Infomotions, Inc.The Anatomy of Melancholy / Burton, Robert, 1577-1640

Author: Burton, Robert, 1577-1640
Title: The Anatomy of Melancholy
Publisher: Project Gutenberg
Tag(s): saith; melancholy; cap
Contributor(s): Lowell, Orson, 1871-1956 [Illustrator]
Versions: original; local mirror; HTML (this file); printable
Services: find in a library; evaluate using concordance
Rights: GNU General Public License
Size: 516,330 words (tome-like) Grade range: 9-12 (high school) Readability score: 54 (average)
Identifier: etext10800
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Project Gutenberg's The Anatomy of Melancholy, by Democritus Junior

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Title: The Anatomy of Melancholy

Author: Democritus Junior

Release Date: January 13, 2004 [EBook #10800]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII


Produced by Karl Hagen, D. Moynihan and Distributed Proofreaders

Introduction to the Project Gutenberg Edition.

This edition of _The Anatomy of Melancholy_ is based on a
nineteenth-century edition that modernized Burton's spelling and
typographic conventions. In preparing this electronic version, it became
evident that the editor had made a variety of mistakes in this
modernization: some words were left in their original spelling (unusual
words were a particular problem), portions of book titles were mistaken for
proper names, proper names were mistaken for book titles or Latin words,
etc. A certain number of misprints were also introduced into the Latin. As
a result, I have re-edited the text, checking it against images of the 1638
edition, and correcting all errors not present in the earlier edition. I
have continued to follow the general editorial practice of the base text
for quotation marks, italics, etc. Rare words have been normalized
according to their primary spelling in the Oxford English Dictionary. When
Burton spells a person's name in several ways, I have normalized the names
to the most common spelling, or to modern practice if well-known. In a few
cases, mistakes present in both the 1638 edition and the base text have
been corrected. These are always minor reference errors (e.g., an incorrect
or missing section number in the synopses, or misnumbered footnotes).
Incorrect citations to other texts (Burton seems to quote by memory and
sometimes gets it wrong) have not been changed if they are wrong in both
editions. To display some symbols (astrological signs, etc.) the HTML
version requires a browser with unicode support. Most recent browsers
should be OK.--KTH


[Illustration: 1. Democritus Abderites; 2. Zelotypia 3. Solitudo; 4.
Inamorato; 5. Hypocondriacus; 6. Superstitiosus; 7. Maniacus; 8. Borage; 9.
Hellebor; 10. Democritus Junior


What it is, with all the kinds, causes, symptoms, prognostics, and several
cures of it.

In three Partitions, with their several Sections, numbers, and subsections.

Philosophically, medicinally, Historically, opened and cut up.

By Democritus Junior

With a Satyrical Preface conducing to the following Discourse.

The Sixth Edition, corrected and augmented by the Author.

Omne tulit punctum, qui miscit utile dulce.


Printed & to be sold by Hen. Crips & Lodo Lloyd at their shop in
Popes-head Alley. 1652]













        Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci.

        He that joins instruction with delight,
        Profit with pleasure, carries all the votes.













The work now restored to public notice has had an extraordinary fate. At
the time of its original publication it obtained a great celebrity, which
continued more than half a century. During that period few books were more
read, or more deservedly applauded. It was the delight of the learned, the
solace of the indolent, and the refuge of the uninformed. It passed through
at least eight editions, by which the bookseller, as WOOD records, got an
estate; and, notwithstanding the objection sometimes opposed against it, of
a quaint style, and too great an accumulation of authorities, the
fascination of its wit, fancy, and sterling sense, have borne down all
censures, and extorted praise from the first Writers in the English
language. The grave JOHNSON has praised it in the warmest terms, and the
ludicrous STERNE has interwoven many parts of it into his own popular
performance. MILTON did not disdain to build two of his finest poems on it;
and a host of inferior writers have embellished their works with beauties
not their own, culled from a performance which they had not the justice
even to mention. Change of times, and the frivolity of fashion, suspended,
in some degree, that fame which had lasted near a century; and the
succeeding generation affected indifference towards an author, who at
length was only looked into by the plunderers of literature, the poachers
in obscure volumes. The plagiarisms of _Tristram Shandy_, so successfully
brought to light by DR. FERRIAR, at length drew the attention of the public
towards a writer, who, though then little known, might, without impeachment
of modesty, lay claim to every mark of respect; and inquiry proved, beyond
a doubt, that the calls of justice had been little attended to by others,
as well as the facetious YORICK. WOOD observed, more than a century ago,
that several authors had unmercifully stolen matter from BURTON without any
acknowledgment. The time, however, at length arrived, when the merits of
the _Anatomy of Melancholy_ were to receive their due praise. The book was
again sought for and read, and again it became an applauded performance.
Its excellencies once more stood confessed, in the increased price which
every copy offered for sale produced; and the increased demand pointed out
the necessity of a new edition. This is now presented to the public in a
manner not disgraceful to the memory of the author; and the publisher
relies with confidence, that so valuable a repository of amusement and
information will continue to hold the rank to which it has been restored,
firmly supported by its own merit, and safe from the influence and blight
of any future caprices of fashion. To open its valuable mysteries to those
who have not had the advantage of a classical education, translations of
the countless quotations from ancient writers which occur in the work, are
now for the first time given, and obsolete orthography is in all instances


Robert Burton was the son of Ralph Burton, of an ancient and genteel family
at Lindley, in Leicestershire, and was born there on the 8th of February
1576. [1]He received the first rudiments of learning at the free school of
Sutton Coldfield, in Warwickshire [2]from whence he was, at the age of
seventeen, in the long vacation, 1593, sent to Brazen Nose College, in the
condition of a commoner, where he made considerable progress in logic and
philosophy. In 1599 he was elected student of Christ Church, and, for
form's sake, was put under the tuition of Dr. John Bancroft, afterwards
Bishop of Oxford. In 1614 he was admitted to the reading of the Sentences,
and on the 29th of November, 1616, had the vicarage of St. Thomas, in the
west suburb of Oxford, conferred on him by the dean and canons of Christ
Church, which, with the rectory of Segrave, in Leicestershire, given to him
in the year 1636, by George, Lord Berkeley, he kept, to use the words of
the Oxford antiquary, with much ado to his dying day. He seems to have been
first beneficed at Walsby, in Lincolnshire, through the munificence of his
noble patroness, Frances, Countess Dowager of Exeter, but resigned the
same, as he tells us, for some special reasons. At his vicarage he is
remarked to have always given the sacrament in wafers. Wood's character of
him is, that "he was an exact mathematician, a curious calculator of
nativities, a general read scholar, a thorough-paced philologist, and one
that understood the surveying of lands well. As he was by many accounted a
severe student, a devourer of authors, a melancholy and humorous person; so
by others, who knew him well, a person of great honesty, plain dealing and
charity. I have heard some of the ancients of Christ Church often say, that
his company was very merry, facete, and juvenile; and no man in his time
did surpass him for his ready and dexterous interlarding his common
discourses among them with verses from the poets, or sentences from classic
authors; which being then all the fashion in the University, made his
company the more acceptable." He appears to have been a universal reader of
all kinds of books, and availed himself of his multifarious studies in a
very extraordinary manner. From the information of Hearne, we learn that
John Rouse, the Bodleian librarian, furnished him with choice books for the
prosecution of his work. The subject of his labour and amusement, seems to
have been adopted from the infirmities of his own habit and constitution.
Mr. Granger says, "He composed this book with a view of relieving his own
melancholy, but increased it to such a degree, that nothing could make him
laugh, but going to the bridge-foot and hearing the ribaldry of the
bargemen, which rarely failed to throw him into a violent fit of laughter.
Before he was overcome with this horrid disorder, he, in the intervals of
his vapours, was esteemed one of the most facetious companions in the

His residence was chiefly at Oxford; where, in his chamber in Christ Church
College, he departed this life, at or very near the time which he had some
years before foretold, from the calculation of his own nativity, and which,
says Wood, "being exact, several of the students did not forbear to whisper
among themselves, that rather than there should be a mistake in the
calculation, he sent up his soul to heaven through a slip about his neck."
Whether this suggestion is founded in truth, we have no other evidence than
an obscure hint in the epitaph hereafter inserted, which was written by the
author himself, a short time before his death. His body, with due
solemnity, was buried near that of Dr. Robert Weston, in the north aisle
which joins next to the choir of the cathedral of Christ Church, on the
27th of January 1639-40. Over his grave was soon after erected a comely
monument, on the upper pillar of the said aisle, with his bust, painted to
the life. On the right hand is the following calculation of his nativity:

[Illustration: R. natus B.
1576, 8 Feb.
hor. 3, scrup. 16.
long. 22 deg. 0'
polus 51 deg. 30"]

and under the bust, this inscription of his own composition:--

Paucis notus, paucioribus ignotus,
Hic jacet _Democritus_ junior
Cui vitam dedit et mortem
Ob. 8 Id. Jan. A. C. MDCXXXIX.

Arms:--Azure on a bend O. between three dogs' heads O. a crescent G.

A few months before his death, he made his will, of which the following is
a copy:


_In nomine Dei Amen_. August 15th One thousand six hundred thirty nine
because there be so many casualties to which our life is subject besides
quarrelling and contention which happen to our Successors after our Death
by reason of unsettled Estates I Robert Burton Student of Christ-church
Oxon. though my means be but small have thought good by this my last Will
and Testament to dispose of that little which I have and being at this
present I thank God in perfect health of Bodie and Mind and if this
Testament be not so formal according to the nice and strict terms of Law
and other Circumstances peradventure required of which I am ignorant I
desire howsoever this my Will may be accepted and stand good according to
my true Intent and meaning First I bequeath Animam Deo Corpus Terrae
whensoever it shall please God to call me I give my Land in Higham which my
good Father Ralphe Burton of Lindly in the County of Leicester Esquire gave
me by Deed of Gift and that which I have annexed to that Farm by purchase
since, now leased for thirty eight pounds per Ann. to mine Elder Brother
William Burton of Lindly Esquire during his life and after him to his Heirs
I make my said Brother William likewise mine Executor as well as paying
such Annuities and Legacies out of my Lands and Goods as are hereafter
specified I give to my nephew Cassibilan Burton twenty pounds Annuity per
Ann. out of my Land in Higham during his life to be paid at two equal
payments at our Lady Day in Lent and Michaelmas or if he be not paid within
fourteen Days after the said Feasts to distrain on any part of the Ground
or on any of my Lands of Inheritance Item I give to my Sister Katherine
Jackson during her life eight pounds per Ann. Annuity to be paid at the two
Feasts equally as above said or else to distrain on the Ground if she be
not paid after fourteen days at Lindly as the other _some_ is out of the
said Land Item I give to my Servant John Upton the Annuity of Forty
Shillings out of my said Farme during his life (if till then my Servant) to
be paid on Michaelmas day in Lindley each year or else after fourteen days
to distrain Now for my goods I thus dispose them First I give an C'th
pounds to Christ Church in Oxford where I have so long lived to buy five
pounds Lands per Ann. to be Yearly bestowed on Books for the Library Item I
give an hundredth pound to the University Library of Oxford to be bestowed
to purchase five pound Land per Ann. to be paid out Yearly on Books as Mrs.
Brooks formerly gave an hundred pounds to buy Land to the same purpose and
the Rent to the same use I give to my Brother George Burton twenty pounds
and my watch I give to my Brother Ralph Burton five pounds Item I give to
the Parish of Seagrave in Leicestershire where I am now Rector ten pounds
to be given to a certain Feoffees to the perpetual good of the said _Parish
Oxon_ [3]Item I give to my Niece Eugenia Burton One hundredth pounds Item I
give to my Nephew Richard Burton now Prisoner in London an hundredth pound
to redeem him Item I give to the Poor of Higham Forty Shillings where my
Land is to the poor of Nuneaton where I was once a Grammar Scholar three
pound to my Cousin Purfey of Wadlake [Wadley] my Cousin Purfey of Calcott
my Cousin Hales of Coventry my Nephew Bradshaw of Orton twenty shillings a
piece for a small remembrance to Mr. Whitehall Rector of Cherkby myne own
Chamber Fellow twenty shillings I desire my Brother George and my Cosen
Purfey of Calcott to be the Overseers of this part of my Will I give
moreover five pounds to make a small Monument for my Mother where she is
buried in London to my Brother Jackson forty shillings to my Servant John
Upton forty shillings besides his former Annuity if he be my Servant till I
die if he be till then my Servant [4]--ROBERT BURTON--Charles Russell
Witness--John Pepper Witness.

An Appendix to this my Will if I die in Oxford or whilst I am of Christ
Church and with good Mr. Paynes August the Fifteenth 1639.

I give to Mr. Doctor Fell Dean of Christ Church Forty Shillings to the
Eight Canons twenty Shillings a piece as a small remembrance to the poor of
St. Thomas Parish Twenty Shillings to Brasenose Library five pounds to Mr.
Rowse of Oriell Colledge twenty Shillings to Mr. Heywood _xx_s. to Dr.
Metcalfe _xx_s. to Mr. Sherley _xx_s. If I have any Books the University
Library hath not, let them take them If I have any Books our own Library
hath not, let them take them I give to Mrs. Fell all my English Books of
Husbandry one excepted to her Daughter Mrs. Katherine Fell my Six Pieces of
Silver Plate and six Silver spoons to Mrs. Iles my Gerards Herball To Mrs.
Morris my Country Farme Translated out of French 4. and all my English
Physick Books to Mr. Whistler the Recorder of Oxford I give twenty
shillings to all my fellow Students Mrs of Arts a Book in fol. or two a
piece as Master Morris Treasurer or Mr. Dean shall appoint whom I request
to be the Overseer of this Appendix and give him for his pains Atlas
Geografer and Ortelius Theatrum Mond' I give to John Fell the Dean's Son
Student my Mathematical Instruments except my two Crosse Staves which I
give to my Lord of Donnol if he be then of the House To Thomas Iles Doctor
Iles his Son Student Saluntch on Paurrhelia and Lucian's Works in 4 Tomes
If any books be left let my Executors dispose of them with all such Books
as are written with my own hands and half my Melancholy Copy for Crips hath
the other half To Mr. Jones Chaplin and Chanter my Surveying Books and
Instruments To the Servants of the House Forty Shillings ROB.
BURTON--Charles Russell Witness--John Pepper Witness--This Will was shewed
to me by the Testator and acknowledged by him some few days before his
death to be his last Will Ita Testor John Morris S Th D. Prebendari' Eccl
Chri' Oxon Feb. 3, 1639.

Probatum fuit Testamentum suprascriptum, &c. 11 deg. 1640 Juramento Willmi
Burton Fris' et Executoris cui &c. de bene et fideliter administrand.
&c. coram Mag'ris Nathanaele Stephens Rectore Eccl. de Drayton, et
Edwardo Farmer, Clericis, vigore commissionis, &c.

The only work our author executed was that now reprinted, which probably
was the principal employment of his life. Dr. Ferriar says, it was
originally published in the year 1617; but this is evidently a mistake;
[5]the first edition was that printed in 4to, 1621, a copy of which is at
present in the collection of John Nichols, Esq., the indefatigable
illustrator of the _History of Leicestershire_; to whom, and to Isaac Reed,
Esq., of Staple Inn, this account is greatly indebted for its accuracy. The
other impressions of it were in 1624, 1628, 1632, 1638, 1651-2, 1660, and
1676, which last, in the titlepage, is called the eighth edition.

The copy from which the present is reprinted, is that of 1651-2; at the
conclusion of which is the following address:


"Be pleased to know (Courteous Reader) that since the last Impression
of this Book, the ingenuous Author of it is deceased, leaving a Copy
of it exactly corrected, with several considerable Additions by his
own hand; this Copy he committed to my care and custody, with
directions to have those Additions inserted in the next Edition; which
in order to his command, and the Publicke Good, is faithfully
performed in this last Impression."

H. C. (_i.e. HEN. CRIPPS._)

The following testimonies of various authors will serve to show the
estimation in which this work has been held:--

"The ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, wherein the author hath piled up variety of
much excellent learning. Scarce any book of philology in our land hath, in
so short a time, passed so many editions."--_Fuller's Worthies_, fol. 16.

"'Tis a book so full of variety of reading, that gentlemen who have lost
their time, and are put to a push for invention, may furnish themselves
with matter for common or scholastical discourse and writing."--_Wood's
Athenae Oxoniensis_, vol. i. p. 628. 2d edit.

"If you never saw BURTON UPON MELANCHOLY, printed 1676, I pray look into
it, and read the ninth page of his Preface, 'Democritus to the Reader.'
There is something there which touches the point we are upon; but I mention
the author to you, as the pleasantest, the most learned, and the most full
of sterling sense. The wits of Queen Anne's reign, and the beginning of
George the First, were not a little beholden to him."--_Archbishop
Herring's Letters_, 12mo. 1777. p. 149.

"BURTON'S ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, he (Dr. Johnson) said, was the only book
that ever took him out of bed two hours sooner than he wished to
rise."--_Boswell's Life of Johnson_, vol. i. p. 580. 8vo. edit.

"BURTON'S ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY is a valuable book," said Dr. Johnson. "It
is, perhaps, overloaded with quotation. But there is great spirit and great
power in what Burton says when he writes from his own mind."--_Ibid_, vol.
ii. p. 325.

"It will be no detraction from the powers of Milton's original genius and
invention, to remark, that he seems to have borrowed the subject of _L'
Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_, together with some particular thoughts,
expressions, and rhymes, more especially the idea of a contrast between
these two dispositions, from a forgotten poem prefixed to the first edition
of BURTON'S ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, entitled, 'The Author's Abstract of
Melancholy; or, A Dialogue between Pleasure and Pain.' Here pain is
melancholy. It was written, as I conjecture, about the year 1600. I will
make no apology for abstracting and citing as much of this poem as will be
sufficient to prove, to a discerning reader, how far it had taken
possession of Milton's mind. The measure will appear to be the same; and
that our author was at least an attentive reader of Burton's book, may be
already concluded from the traces of resemblance which I have incidentally
noticed in passing through the _L' Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_."--After
extracting the lines, Mr. Warton adds, "as to the very elaborate work to
which these visionary verses are no unsuitable introduction, the writer's
variety of learning, his quotations from scarce and curious books, his
pedantry sparkling with rude wit and shapeless elegance, miscellaneous
matter, intermixture of agreeable tales and illustrations, and, perhaps,
above all, the singularities of his feelings, clothed in an uncommon
quaintness of style, have contributed to render it, even to modern readers,
a valuable repository of amusement and information."--_Warton's Milton_, 2d
edit. p. 94.

"THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY is a book which has been universally read and
admired. This work is, for the most part, what the author himself styles
it, 'a cento;' but it is a very ingenious one. His quotations, which abound
in every page, are pertinent; but if he had made more use of his invention
and less of his commonplace-book, his work would perhaps have been more
valuable than it is. He is generally free from the affected language and
ridiculous metaphors which disgrace most of the books of his
time."--_Granger's Biographical History_.

"BURTON'S ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, a book once the favourite of the learned
and the witty, and a source of surreptitious learning, though written on a
regular plan, consists chiefly of quotations: the author has honestly
termed it a cento. He collects, under every division, the opinions of a
multitude of writers, without regard to chronological order, and has too
often the modesty to decline the interposition of his own sentiments.
Indeed the bulk of his materials generally overwhelms him. In the course of
his folio he has contrived to treat a great variety of topics, that seem
very loosely connected with the general subject; and, like Bayle, when he
starts a favourite train of quotations, he does not scruple to let the
digression outrun the principal question. Thus, from the doctrines of
religion to military discipline, from inland navigation to the morality of
dancing-schools, every thing is discussed and determined."--_Ferriar's
Illustrations of Sterne_, p. 58.

"The archness which BURTON displays occasionally, and his indulgence of
playful digressions from the most serious discussions, often give his style
an air of familiar conversation, notwithstanding the laborious collections
which supply his text. He was capable of writing excellent poetry, but he
seems to have cultivated this talent too little. The English verses
prefixed to his book, which possess beautiful imagery, and great sweetness
of versification, have been frequently published. His Latin elegiac verses
addressed to his book, shew a very agreeable turn for raillery."--_Ibid_.
p. 58.

"When the force of the subject opens his own vein of prose, we discover
valuable sense and brilliant expression. Such is his account of the first
feelings of melancholy persons, written, probably, from his own
experience." [See p. 154, of the present edition.]--_Ibid._ p. 60.

"During a pedantic age, like that in which BURTON'S production appeared, it
must have been eminently serviceable to writers of many descriptions. Hence
the unlearned might furnish themselves with appropriate scraps of Greek and
Latin, whilst men of letters would find their enquiries shortened, by
knowing where they might look for what both ancients and moderns had
advanced on the subject of human passions. I confess my inability to point
out any other English author who has so largely dealt in apt and original
quotation."--_Manuscript note of the late George Steevens, Esq., in his


        Vade liber, qualis, non ausum dicere, felix,
          Te nisi felicem fecerit Alma dies.
        Vade tamen quocunque lubet, quascunque per oras,
          Et Genium Domini fac imitere tui.
        I blandas inter Charites, mystamque saluta
          Musarum quemvis, si tibi lector erit.
        Rura colas, urbem, subeasve palatia regum,
          Submisse, placide, te sine dente geras.
        Nobilis, aut si quis te forte inspexerit heros,
          Da te morigerum, perlegat usque lubet.
        Est quod nobilitas, est quod desideret heros,
          Gratior haec forsan charta placere potest.
        Si quis morosus Cato, tetricusque Senator,
          Hunc etiam librum forte videre velit,
        Sive magistratus, tum te reverenter habeto;
          Sed nullus; muscas non capiunt Aquilae.
        Non vacat his tempus fugitivum impendere nugis,
          Nec tales cupio; par mihi lector erit.
        Si matrona gravis casu diverterit istuc,
          Illustris domina, aut te Comitissa legat:
        Est quod displiceat, placeat quod forsitan illis,
          Ingerere his noli te modo, pande tamen.
        At si virgo tuas dignabitur inclyta chartas
          Tangere, sive schedis haereat illa tuis:
        Da modo te facilem, et quaedam folia esse memento
          Conveniant oculis quae magis apta suis.
        Si generosa ancilla tuos aut alma puella
          Visura est ludos, annue, pande lubens.
        Dic utinam nunc ipse meus [6](nam diligit istas)
          In praesens esset conspiciendus herus.
        Ignotus notusve mihi de gente togata
          Sive aget in ludis, pulpita sive colet,
        Sive in Lycaeo, et nugas evolverit istas,
          Si quasdam mendas viderit inspiciens,
        Da veniam Authori, dices; nam plurima vellet
          Expungi, quae jam displicuisse sciat.
        Sive Melancholicus quisquam, seu blandus Amator,
          Aulicus aut Civis, seu bene comptus eques
        Huc appellat, age et tuto te crede legenti,
          Multa istic forsan non male nata leget.
        Quod fugiat, caveat, quodque amplexabitur, ista
          Pagina fortassis promere multa potest.
        At si quis Medicus coram te sistet, amice
          Fac circumspecte, et te sine labe geras:
        Inveniet namque ipse meis quoque plurima scriptis,
          Non leve subsidium quae sibi forsan erunt.
        Si quis Causidicus chartas impingat in istas,
          Nil mihi vobiscum, pessima turba vale;
        Sit nisi vir bonus, et juris sine fraude peritus,
          Tum legat, et forsan doctior inde siet.
        Si quis cordatus, facilis, lectorque benignus
          Huc oculos vertat, quae velit ipse legat;
        Candidus ignoscet, metuas nil, pande libenter,
          Offensus mendis non erit ille tuis,
        Laudabit nonnulla. Venit si Rhetor ineptus,
          Limata et tersa, et qui bene cocta petit,
        Claude citus librum; nulla hic nisi ferrea verba,
          Offendent stomachum quae minus apta suum.
        At si quis non eximius de plebe poeta,
          Annue; namque istic plurima ficta leget.
        Nos sumus e numero, nullus mihi spirat Apollo,
          Grandiloquus Vates quilibet esse nequit.
        Si Criticus Lector, tumidus Censorque molestus,
          Zoilus et Momus, si rabiosa cohors:
        Ringe, freme, et noli tum pandere, turba malignis
          Si occurrat sannis invidiosa suis:
        Fac fugias; si nulla tibi sit copia eundi,
          Contemnes, tacite scommata quaeque feres.
        Frendeat, allatret, vacuas gannitibus auras
          Impleat, haud cures; his placuisse nefas.
        Verum age si forsan divertat purior hospes,
          Cuique sales, ludi, displiceantque joci,
        Objiciatque tibi sordes, lascivaque: dices,
          Lasciva est Domino et Musa jocosa tuo,
        Nec lasciva tamen, si pensitet omne; sed esto;
          Sit lasciva licet pagina, vita proba est.
        Barbarus, indoctusque rudis spectator in istam
          Si messem intrudat, fuste fugabis eum,
        Fungum pelle procul (jubeo) nam quid mihi fungo?
          Conveniunt stomacho non minus ista suo.
        Sed nec pelle tamen; laeto omnes accipe vultu,
          Quos, quas, vel quales, inde vel unde viros.
        Gratus erit quicunque venit, gratissimus hospes
          Quisquis erit, facilis difficilisque mihi.
        Nam si culparit, quaedam culpasse juvabit,
          Culpando faciet me meliora sequi.
        Sed si laudarit, neque laudibus efferar ullis,
          Sit satis hisce malis opposuisse bonum.
        Haec sunt quae nostro placuit mandare libello,
          Et quae dimittens dicere jussit Herus.



        Go forth my book into the open day;
          Happy, if made so by its garish eye.
        O'er earth's wide surface take thy vagrant way,
          To imitate thy master's genius try.
        The Graces three, the Muses nine salute,
          Should those who love them try to con thy lore.
        The country, city seek, grand thrones to boot,
          With gentle courtesy humbly bow before.
        Should nobles gallant, soldiers frank and brave
          Seek thy acquaintance, hail their first advance:
        From twitch of care thy pleasant vein may save,
          May laughter cause or wisdom give perchance.
        Some surly Cato, Senator austere,
          Haply may wish to peep into thy book:
        Seem very nothing--tremble and revere:
          No forceful eagles, butterflies e'er look.
        They love not thee: of them then little seek,
          And wish for readers triflers like thyself.
        Of ludeful matron watchful catch the beck,
          Or gorgeous countess full of pride and pelf.
        They may say "pish!" and frown, and yet read on:
          Cry odd, and silly, coarse, and yet amusing.
        Should dainty damsels seek thy page to con,
          Spread thy best stores: to them be ne'er refusing:
        Say, fair one, master loves thee dear as life;
          Would he were here to gaze on thy sweet look.
        Should known or unknown student, freed from strife
          Of logic and the schools, explore my book:
        Cry mercy critic, and thy book withhold:
          Be some few errors pardon'd though observ'd:
        An humble author to implore makes bold.
          Thy kind indulgence, even undeserv'd,
        Should melancholy wight or pensive lover,
          Courtier, snug cit, or carpet knight so trim
        Our blossoms cull, he'll find himself in clover,
          Gain sense from precept, laughter from our whim.
        Should learned leech with solemn air unfold
          Thy leaves, beware, be civil, and be wise:
        Thy volume many precepts sage may hold,
          His well fraught head may find no trifling prize.
        Should crafty lawyer trespass on our ground,
          Caitiffs avaunt! disturbing tribe away!
        Unless (white crow) an honest one be found;
          He'll better, wiser go for what we say.
        Should some ripe scholar, gentle and benign,
          With candour, care, and judgment thee peruse:
        Thy faults to kind oblivion he'll consign;
          Nor to thy merit will his praise refuse.
        Thou may'st be searched for polish'd words and verse
          By flippant spouter, emptiest of praters:
        Tell him to seek them in some mawkish verse:
          My periods all are rough as nutmeg graters.
        The doggerel poet, wishing thee to read,
          Reject not; let him glean thy jests and stories.
        His brother I, of lowly sembling breed:
          Apollo grants to few Parnassian glories.
        Menac'd by critic with sour furrowed brow,
          Momus or Troilus or Scotch reviewer:
        Ruffle your heckle, grin and growl and vow:
          Ill-natured foes you thus will find the fewer,
        When foul-mouth'd senseless railers cry thee down,
          Reply not: fly, and show the rogues thy stern;
        They are not worthy even of a frown:
          Good taste or breeding they can never learn;
        Or let them clamour, turn a callous ear,
          As though in dread of some harsh donkey's bray.
        If chid by censor, friendly though severe,
          To such explain and turn thee not away.
        Thy vein, says he perchance, is all too free;
          Thy smutty language suits not learned pen:
        Reply, Good Sir, throughout, the context see;
          Thought chastens thought; so prithee judge again.
        Besides, although my master's pen may wander
          Through devious paths, by which it ought not stray,
        His life is pure, beyond the breath of slander:
          So pardon grant; 'tis merely but his way.
        Some rugged ruffian makes a hideous rout--
          Brandish thy cudgel, threaten him to baste;
        The filthy fungus far from thee cast out;
          Such noxious banquets never suit my taste.
        Yet, calm and cautious moderate thy ire,
          Be ever courteous should the case allow--
        Sweet malt is ever made by gentle fire:
          Warm to thy friends, give all a civil bow.
        Even censure sometimes teaches to improve,
          Slight frosts have often cured too rank a crop,
        So, candid blame my spleen shall never move,
          For skilful gard'ners wayward branches lop.
        Go then, my book, and bear my words in mind;
          Guides safe at once, and pleasant them you'll find.


        Ten distinct Squares here seen apart,
        Are joined in one by Cutter's art.

        Old Democritus under a tree,
        Sits on a stone with book on knee;
        About him hang there many features,
        Of Cats, Dogs and such like creatures,
        Of which he makes anatomy,
        The seat of black choler to see.
        Over his head appears the sky,
        And Saturn Lord of melancholy.

        To the left a landscape of Jealousy,
        Presents itself unto thine eye.
        A Kingfisher, a Swan, an Hern,
        Two fighting-cocks you may discern,
        Two roaring Bulls each other hie,
        To assault concerning venery.
        Symbols are these; I say no more,
        Conceive the rest by that's afore.

        The next of solitariness,
        A portraiture doth well express,
        By sleeping dog, cat: Buck and Doe,
        Hares, Conies in the desert go:
        Bats, Owls the shady bowers over,
        In melancholy darkness hover.
        Mark well: If't be not as't should be,
        Blame the bad Cutter, and not me.

        I'th' under column there doth stand
        _Inamorato_ with folded hand;
        Down hangs his head, terse and polite,
        Some ditty sure he doth indite.
        His lute and books about him lie,
        As symptoms of his vanity.
        If this do not enough disclose,
        To paint him, take thyself by th' nose.

        _Hypocondriacus_ leans on his arm,
        Wind in his side doth him much harm,
        And troubles him full sore, God knows,
        Much pain he hath and many woes.
        About him pots and glasses lie,
        Newly brought from's Apothecary.
        This Saturn's aspects signify,
        You see them portray'd in the sky.

        Beneath them kneeling on his knee,
        A superstitious man you see:
        He fasts, prays, on his Idol fixt,
        Tormented hope and fear betwixt:
        For Hell perhaps he takes more pain,
        Than thou dost Heaven itself to gain.
        Alas poor soul, I pity thee,
        What stars incline thee so to be?

        But see the madman rage downright
        With furious looks, a ghastly sight.
        Naked in chains bound doth he lie,
        And roars amain he knows not why!
        Observe him; for as in a glass,
        Thine angry portraiture it was.
        His picture keeps still in thy presence;
        'Twixt him and thee, there's no difference.

                     VIII, IX.
        _Borage_ and _Hellebor_ fill two scenes,
        Sovereign plants to purge the veins
        Of melancholy, and cheer the heart,
        Of those black fumes which make it smart;
        To clear the brain of misty fogs,
        Which dull our senses, and Soul clogs.
        The best medicine that e'er God made
        For this malady, if well assay'd.

        Now last of all to fill a place,
        Presented is the Author's face;
        And in that habit which he wears,
        His image to the world appears.
        His mind no art can well express,
        That by his writings you may guess.
        It was not pride, nor yet vainglory,
        (Though others do it commonly)
        Made him do this: if you must know,
        The Printer would needs have it so.
        Then do not frown or scoff at it,
        Deride not, or detract a whit.
        For surely as thou dost by him,
        He will do the same again.
        Then look upon't, behold and see,
        As thou lik'st it, so it likes thee.
        And I for it will stand in view,
        Thine to command, Reader, adieu.


        When I go musing all alone
        Thinking of divers things fore-known.
        When I build castles in the air,
        Void of sorrow and void of fear,
        Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet,
        Methinks the time runs very fleet.
          All my joys to this are folly,
          Naught so sweet as melancholy.
        When I lie waking all alone,
        Recounting what I have ill done,
        My thoughts on me then tyrannise,
        Fear and sorrow me surprise,
        Whether I tarry still or go,
        Methinks the time moves very slow.
          All my griefs to this are jolly,
          Naught so mad as melancholy.
        When to myself I act and smile,
        With pleasing thoughts the time beguile,
        By a brook side or wood so green,
        Unheard, unsought for, or unseen,
        A thousand pleasures do me bless,
        And crown my soul with happiness.
          All my joys besides are folly,
          None so sweet as melancholy.
        When I lie, sit, or walk alone,
        I sigh, I grieve, making great moan,
        In a dark grove, or irksome den,
        With discontents and Furies then,
        A thousand miseries at once
        Mine heavy heart and soul ensconce,
          All my griefs to this are jolly,
          None so sour as melancholy.
        Methinks I hear, methinks I see,
        Sweet music, wondrous melody,
        Towns, palaces, and cities fine;
        Here now, then there; the world is mine,
        Rare beauties, gallant ladies shine,
        Whate'er is lovely or divine.
          All other joys to this are folly,
          None so sweet as melancholy.
        Methinks I hear, methinks I see
        Ghosts, goblins, fiends; my phantasy
        Presents a thousand ugly shapes,
        Headless bears, black men, and apes,
        Doleful outcries, and fearful sights,
        My sad and dismal soul affrights.
          All my griefs to this are jolly,
          None so damn'd as melancholy.
        Methinks I court, methinks I kiss,
        Methinks I now embrace my mistress.
        O blessed days, O sweet content,
        In Paradise my time is spent.
        Such thoughts may still my fancy move,
        So may I ever be in love.
          All my joys to this are folly,
          Naught so sweet as melancholy.
        When I recount love's many frights,
        My sighs and tears, my waking nights,
        My jealous fits; O mine hard fate
        I now repent, but 'tis too late.
        No torment is so bad as love,
        So bitter to my soul can prove.
          All my griefs to this are jolly,
          Naught so harsh as melancholy.
        Friends and companions get you gone,
        'Tis my desire to be alone;
        Ne'er well but when my thoughts and I
        Do domineer in privacy.
        No Gem, no treasure like to this,
        'Tis my delight, my crown, my bliss.
          All my joys to this are folly,
          Naught so sweet as melancholy.
        'Tis my sole plague to be alone,
        I am a beast, a monster grown,
        I will no light nor company,
        I find it now my misery.
        The scene is turn'd, my joys are gone,
        Fear, discontent, and sorrows come.
          All my griefs to this are jolly,
          Naught so fierce as melancholy.
        I'll not change life with any king,
        I ravisht am: can the world bring
        More joy, than still to laugh and smile,
        In pleasant toys time to beguile?
        Do not, O do not trouble me,
        So sweet content I feel and see.
          All my joys to this are folly,
          None so divine as melancholy.
        I'll change my state with any wretch,
        Thou canst from gaol or dunghill fetch;
        My pain's past cure, another hell,
        I may not in this torment dwell!
        Now desperate I hate my life,
        Lend me a halter or a knife;
          All my griefs to this are jolly,
          Naught so damn'd as melancholy.


Gentle reader, I presume thou wilt be very inquisitive to know what antic
or personate actor this is, that so insolently intrudes upon this common
theatre, to the world's view, arrogating another man's name; whence he is,
why he doth it, and what he hath to say; although, as [7]he said, _Primum
si noluero, non respondebo, quis coacturus est_? I am a free man born, and
may choose whether I will tell; who can compel me? If I be urged, I will as
readily reply as that Egyptian in [8]Plutarch, when a curious fellow would
needs know what he had in his basket, _Quum vides velatam, quid inquiris in
rem absconditam_? It was therefore covered, because he should not know what
was in it. Seek not after that which is hid; if the contents please thee,
[9]"and be for thy use, suppose the Man in the Moon, or whom thou wilt to
be the author;" I would not willingly be known. Yet in some sort to give
thee satisfaction, which is more than I need, I will show a reason, both of
this usurped name, title, and subject. And first of the name of Democritus;
lest any man, by reason of it, should be deceived, expecting a pasquil, a
satire, some ridiculous treatise (as I myself should have done), some
prodigious tenet, or paradox of the earth's motion, of infinite worlds, _in
infinito vacuo, ex fortuita atomorum collisione_, in an infinite waste, so
caused by an accidental collision of motes in the sun, all which Democritus
held, Epicurus and their master Lucippus of old maintained, and are lately
revived by Copernicus, Brunus, and some others. Besides, it hath been
always an ordinary custom, as [10]Gellius observes, "for later writers and
impostors, to broach many absurd and insolent fictions, under the name of
so noble a philosopher as Democritus, to get themselves credit, and by that
means the more to be respected," as artificers usually do, _Novo qui
marmori ascribunt Praxatilem suo_. 'Tis not so with me.

[11]   "Non hic Centaurus, non Gorgonas, Harpyasque
        Invenies, hominem pagina nostra sapit."

       "No Centaurs here, or Gorgons look to find,
        My subject is of man and human kind."

Thou thyself art the subject of my discourse.

[12]   "Quicquid agunt homines, votum, timor, ira, voluptas,
        Gaudia, discursus, nostri farrago libelli."

       "Whate'er men do, vows, fears, in ire, in sport,
        Joys, wand'rings, are the sum of my report."

My intent is no otherwise to use his name, than Mercurius Gallobelgicus,
Mercurius Britannicus, use the name of Mercury, [13]Democritus Christianus,
&c.; although there be some other circumstances for which I have masked
myself under this vizard, and some peculiar respect which I cannot so well
express, until I have set down a brief character of this our Democritus,
what he was, with an epitome of his life.

Democritus, as he is described by [14]Hippocrates and [15]Laertius, was a
little wearish old man, very melancholy by nature, averse from company in
his latter days, [16]and much given to solitariness, a famous philosopher
in his age, [17]_coaevus_ with Socrates, wholly addicted to his studies at
the last, and to a private life: wrote many excellent works, a great
divine, according to the divinity of those times, an expert physician, a
politician, an excellent mathematician, as [18]Diacosmus and the rest of
his works do witness. He was much delighted with the studies of husbandry,
saith [19]Columella, and often I find him cited by [20]Constantinus and
others treating of that subject. He knew the natures, differences of all
beasts, plants, fishes, birds; and, as some say, could [21]understand the
tunes and voices of them. In a word, he was _omnifariam doctus_, a general
scholar, a great student; and to the intent he might better contemplate,
[22]I find it related by some, that he put out his eyes, and was in his old
age voluntarily blind, yet saw more than all Greece besides, and [23] writ
of every subject, _Nihil in toto opificio naturae, de quo non scripsit_.
[24]A man of an excellent wit, profound conceit; and to attain knowledge
the better in his younger years, he travelled to Egypt and [25] Athens, to
confer with learned men, [26]"admired of some, despised of others." After a
wandering life, he settled at Abdera, a town in Thrace, and was sent for
thither to be their lawmaker, recorder, or town-clerk, as some will; or as
others, he was there bred and born. Howsoever it was, there he lived at
last in a garden in the suburbs, wholly betaking himself to his studies and
a private life, [27]"saving that sometimes he would walk down to the
haven," [28]"and laugh heartily at such variety of ridiculous objects,
which there he saw." Such a one was Democritus.

But in the mean time, how doth this concern me, or upon what reference do I
usurp his habit? I confess, indeed, that to compare myself unto him for
aught I have yet said, were both impudency and arrogancy. I do not presume
to make any parallel, _Antistat mihi millibus trecentis_, [29]_parvus sum,
nullus sum, altum nec spiro, nec spero_. Yet thus much I will say of
myself, and that I hope without all suspicion of pride, or self-conceit, I
have lived a silent, sedentary, solitary, private life, _mihi et musis_ in
the University, as long almost as Xenocrates in Athens, _ad senectam fere_
to learn wisdom as he did, penned up most part in my study. For I have been
brought up a student in the most flourishing college of Europe,
[30]_augustissimo collegio_, and can brag with [31]Jovius, almost, _in ea
luce domicilii Vacicani, totius orbis celeberrimi, per 37 annos multa
opportunaque didici_; for thirty years I have continued (having the use of
as good [32]libraries as ever he had) a scholar, and would be therefore
loath, either by living as a drone, to be an unprofitable or unworthy
member of so learned and noble a society, or to write that which should be
any way dishonourable to such a royal and ample foundation. Something I
have done, though by my profession a divine, yet _turbine raptus ingenii_,
as [33]he said, out of a running wit, an unconstant, unsettled mind, I had
a great desire (not able to attain to a superficial skill in any) to have
some smattering in all, to be _aliquis in omnibus, nullus in singulis_,
[34] which [35]Plato commends, out of him [36]Lipsius approves and
furthers, "as fit to be imprinted in all curious wits, not to be a slave of
one science, or dwell altogether in one subject, as most do, but to rove
abroad, _centum puer artium_, to have an oar in every man's boat, to
[37]taste of every dish, and sip of every cup," which, saith [38]Montaigne,
was well performed by Aristotle, and his learned countryman Adrian
Turnebus. This roving humour (though not with like success) I have ever
had, and like a ranging spaniel, that barks at every bird he sees, leaving
his game, I have followed all, saving that which I should, and may justly
complain, and truly, _qui ubique est, nusquam est_,[39] which [40]Gesner
did in modesty, that I have read many books, but to little purpose, for
want of good method; I have confusedly tumbled over divers authors in our
libraries, with small profit, for want of art, order, memory, judgment. I
never travelled but in map or card, in which mine unconfined thoughts have
freely expatiated, as having ever been especially delighted with the study
of Cosmography. [41]Saturn was lord of my geniture, culminating, &c., and
Mars principal significator of manners, in partile conjunction with my
ascendant; both fortunate in their houses, &c. I am not poor, I am not
rich; _nihil est, nihil deest_, I have little, I want nothing: all my
treasure is in Minerva's tower. Greater preferment as I could never get, so
am I not in debt for it, I have a competence (_laus Deo_) from my noble and
munificent patrons, though I live still a collegiate student, as Democritus
in his garden, and lead a monastic life, _ipse mihi theatrum_, sequestered
from those tumults and troubles of the world, _Et tanquam in specula
positus_, ([42]as he said) in some high place above you all, like Stoicus
Sapiens, _omnia saecula, praeterita presentiaque videns, uno velut
intuitu_, I hear and see what is done abroad, how others [43]run, ride,
turmoil, and macerate themselves in court and country, far from those
wrangling lawsuits, _aulia vanitatem, fori ambitionem, ridere mecum soleo_:
I laugh at all, [44]only secure, lest my suit go amiss, my ships perish,
corn and cattle miscarry, trade decay, I have no wife nor children good or
bad to provide for. A mere spectator of other men's fortunes and
adventures, and how they act their parts, which methinks are diversely
presented unto me, as from a common theatre or scene. I hear new news every
day, and those ordinary rumours of war, plagues, fires, inundations,
thefts, murders, massacres, meteors, comets, spectrums, prodigies,
apparitions, of towns taken, cities besieged in France, Germany, Turkey,
Persia, Poland, &c., daily musters and preparations, and such like, which
these tempestuous times afford, battles fought, so many men slain,
monomachies, shipwrecks, piracies and sea-fights; peace, leagues,
stratagems, and fresh alarms. A vast confusion of vows, wishes, actions,
edicts, petitions, lawsuits, pleas, laws, proclamations, complaints,
grievances are daily brought to our ears. New books every day, pamphlets,
corantoes, stories, whole catalogues of volumes of all sorts, new
paradoxes, opinions, schisms, heresies, controversies in philosophy,
religion, &c. Now come tidings of weddings, maskings, mummeries,
entertainments, jubilees, embassies, tilts and tournaments, trophies,
triumphs, revels, sports, plays: then again, as in a new shifted scene,
treasons, cheating tricks, robberies, enormous villainies in all kinds,
funerals, burials, deaths of princes, new discoveries, expeditions, now
comical, then tragical matters. Today we hear of new lords and officers
created, tomorrow of some great men deposed, and then again of fresh
honours conferred; one is let loose, another imprisoned; one purchaseth,
another breaketh: he thrives, his neighbour turns bankrupt; now plenty,
then again dearth and famine; one runs, another rides, wrangles, laughs,
weeps, &c. This I daily hear, and such like, both private and public news,
amidst the gallantry and misery of the world; jollity, pride, perplexities
and cares, simplicity and villainy; subtlety, knavery, candour and
integrity, mutually mixed and offering themselves; I rub on _privus
privatus_; as I have still lived, so I now continue, _statu quo prius_,
left to a solitary life, and mine own domestic discontents: saving that
sometimes, _ne quid mentiar_, as Diogenes went into the city, and
Democritus to the haven to see fashions, I did for my recreation now and
then walk abroad, look into the world, and could not choose but make some
little observation, _non tam sagax observator ac simplex recitator_, [45]
not as they did, to scoff or laugh at all, but with a mixed passion.

[46]   "Bilem saepe, jocum vestri movere tumultus."

       "Ye wretched mimics, whose fond heats have been,
        How oft! the objects of my mirth and spleen."

I did sometime laugh and scoff with Lucian, and satirically tax with
Menippus, lament with Heraclitus, sometimes again I was [47]_petulanti
splene chachinno_, and then again, [48]_urere bilis jecur_, I was much
moved to see that abuse which I could not mend. In which passion howsoever
I may sympathise with him or them, 'tis for no such respect I shroud myself
under his name; but either in an unknown habit to assume a little more
liberty and freedom of speech, or if you will needs know, for that reason
and only respect which Hippocrates relates at large in his Epistle to
Damegetus, wherein he doth express, how coming to visit him one day, he
found Democritus in his garden at Abdera, in the suburbs, [49]under a shady
bower, [50]with a book on his knees, busy at his study, sometimes writing,
sometimes walking. The subject of his book was melancholy and madness;
about him lay the carcases of many several beasts, newly by him cut up and
anatomised; not that he did contemn God's creatures, as he told
Hippocrates, but to find out the seat of this _atra bilis_, or melancholy,
whence it proceeds, and how it was engendered in men's bodies, to the
intent he might better cure it in himself, and by his writings and
observation [51]teach others how to prevent and avoid it. Which good intent
of his, Hippocrates highly commended: Democritus Junior is therefore bold
to imitate, and because he left it imperfect, and it is now lost, _quasi
succenturiator Democriti_, to revive again, prosecute, and finish in this

You have had a reason of the name. If the title and inscription offend your
gravity, were it a sufficient justification to accuse others, I could
produce many sober treatises, even sermons themselves, which in their
fronts carry more fantastical names. Howsoever, it is a kind of policy in
these days, to prefix a fantastical title to a book which is to be sold;
for, as larks come down to a day-net, many vain readers will tarry and
stand gazing like silly passengers at an antic picture in a painter's shop,
that will not look at a judicious piece. And, indeed, as [52]Scaliger
observes, "nothing more invites a reader than an argument unlooked for,
unthought of, and sells better than a scurrile pamphlet," _tum maxime cum
novitas excitat [53]palatum_. "Many men," saith Gellius, "are very
conceited in their inscriptions," "and able" (as [54]Pliny quotes out of
Seneca) "to make him loiter by the way that went in haste to fetch a
midwife for his daughter, now ready to lie down." For my part, I have
honourable [55]precedents for this which I have done: I will cite one for
all, Anthony Zara, Pap. Epis., his Anatomy of Wit, in four sections,
members, subsections, &c., to be read in our libraries.

If any man except against the matter or manner of treating of this my
subject, and will demand a reason of it, I can allege more than one; I
write of melancholy, by being busy to avoid melancholy. There is no greater
cause of melancholy than idleness, "no better cure than business," as
[56]Rhasis holds: and howbeit, _stultus labor est ineptiarum_, to be busy
in toys is to small purpose, yet hear that divine Seneca, _aliud agere quam
nihil_, better do to no end, than nothing. I wrote therefore, and busied
myself in this playing labour, _oliosaque diligentia ut vitarem torporum
feriandi_ with Vectius in Macrobius, _atque otium in utile verterem

[57]   "Simul et jucunda et idonea dicere vita,
        Lectorem delectando simul atque monendo."

       "Poets would profit or delight mankind,
        And with the pleasing have th' instructive joined.
        Profit and pleasure, then, to mix with art,
        T' inform the judgment, nor offend the heart,
        Shall gain all votes."

To this end I write, like them, saith Lucian, that "recite to trees, and
declaim to pillars for want of auditors:" as [58]Paulus Aegineta
ingenuously confesseth, "not that anything was unknown or omitted, but to
exercise myself," which course if some took, I think it would be good for
their bodies, and much better for their souls; or peradventure as others
do, for fame, to show myself (_Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc
sciat alter_). I might be of Thucydides' opinion, [59]"to know a thing and
not to express it, is all one as if he knew it not." When I first took this
task in hand, _et quod ait [60]ille, impellents genio negotium suscepi_,
this I aimed at; [61]_vel ut lenirem animum scribendo_, to ease my mind by
writing; for I had _gravidum cor, foetum caput_, a kind of imposthume in my
head, which I was very desirous to be unladen of, and could imagine no
fitter evacuation than this. Besides, I might not well refrain, for _ubi
dolor, ibi digitus_, one must needs scratch where it itches. I was not a
little offended with this malady, shall I say my mistress Melancholy, my
Aegeria, or my _malus genius_? and for that cause, as he that is stung with
a scorpion, I would expel _clavum clavo_, [62]comfort one sorrow with
another, idleness with idleness, _ut ex vipera Theriacum_, make an antidote
out of that which was the prime cause of my disease. Or as he did, of whom
[63]Felix Plater speaks, that thought he had some of Aristophanes' frogs in
his belly, still crying _Breec, okex, coax, coax, oop, oop_, and for that
cause studied physic seven years, and travelled over most part of Europe to
ease himself. To do myself good I turned over such physicians as our
libraries would afford, or my [64]private friends impart, and have taken
this pains. And why not? Cardan professeth he wrote his book, _De
Consolatione_ after his son's death, to comfort himself; so did Tully write
of the same subject with like intent after his daughter's departure, if it
be his at least, or some impostor's put out in his name, which Lipsius
probably suspects. Concerning myself, I can peradventure affirm with Marius
in Sallust, [65]"that which others hear or read of, I felt and practised
myself; they get their knowledge by books, I mine by melancholising."
_Experto crede Roberto_. Something I can speak out of experience,
_aerumnabilis experientia me docuit_; and with her in the poet, [66]_Haud
ignara mali miseris succurrere disco_; I would help others out of a
fellow-feeling; and, as that virtuous lady did of old, [67]"being a leper
herself, bestow all her portion to build an hospital for lepers," I will
spend my time and knowledge, which are my greatest fortunes, for the common
good of all.

Yea, but you will infer that this is [68]_actum agere_, an unnecessary
work, _cramben bis coctam apponnere_, the same again and again in other
words. To what purpose? [69]"Nothing is omitted that may well be said," so
thought Lucian in the like theme. How many excellent physicians have
written just volumes and elaborate tracts of this subject? No news here;
that which I have is stolen, from others, [70]_Dicitque mihi mea pagina fur
es_. If that severe doom of [71]Synesius be true, "it is a greater offence
to steal dead men's labours, than their clothes," what shall become of most
writers? I hold up my hand at the bar among others, and am guilty of felony
in this kind, _habes confitentem reum_, I am content to be pressed with the
rest. 'Tis most true, _tenet insanabile multos scribendi cacoethes_, and
[72]"there is no end of writing of books," as the wiseman found of old, in
this [73]scribbling age, especially wherein [74]"the number of books is
without number," (as a worthy man saith,) "presses be oppressed," and out
of an itching humour that every man hath to show himself, [75]desirous of
fame and honour (_scribimus indocti doctique_----) he will write no matter
what, and scrape together it boots not whence. [76]"Bewitched with this
desire of fame," _etiam mediis in morbis_, to the disparagement of their
health, and scarce able to hold a pen, they must say something, [77]"and
get themselves a name," saith Scaliger, "though it be to the downfall and
ruin of many others." To be counted writers, _scriptores ut salutentur_, to
be thought and held polymaths and polyhistors, _apud imperitum vulgus ob
ventosae nomen artis_, to get a paper-kingdom: _nulla spe quaestus sed
ampla famae_, in this precipitate, ambitious age, _nunc ut est saeculum,
inter immaturam eruditionem, ambitiosum et praeceps_ ('tis [78]Scaliger's
censure); and they that are scarce auditors, _vix auditores_, must be
masters and teachers, before they be capable and fit hearers. They will
rush into all learning, _togatam armatam_, divine, human authors, rake over
all indexes and pamphlets for notes, as our merchants do strange havens for
traffic, write great tomes, _Cum non sint re vera doctiores, sed
loquaciores_, whereas they are not thereby better scholars, but greater
praters. They commonly pretend public good, but as [79]Gesner observes,
'tis pride and vanity that eggs them on; no news or aught worthy of note,
but the same in other terms. _Ne feriarentur fortasse typographi vel ideo
scribendum est aliquid ut se vixisse testentur_. As apothecaries we make
new mixtures everyday, pour out of one vessel into another; and as those
old Romans robbed all the cities of the world, to set out their bad-sited
Rome, we skim off the cream of other men's wits, pick the choice flowers of
their tilled gardens to set out our own sterile plots. _Castrant alios ut
libros suos per se graciles alieno adipe suffarciant_ (so [80]Jovius
inveighs.) They lard their lean books with the fat of others' works.
_Ineruditi fures_, &c. A fault that every writer finds, as I do now, and
yet faulty themselves, [81]_Trium literarum homines_, all thieves; they
pilfer out of old writers to stuff up their new comments, scrape Ennius'
dunghills, and out of [82]Democritus' pit, as I have done. By which means
it comes to pass, [83]"that not only libraries and shops are full of our
putrid papers, but every close-stool and jakes," _Scribunt carmina quae
legunt cacantes_; they serve to put under pies, to [84]lap spice in, and
keep roast meat from burning. "With us in France," saith [85]Scaliger,
"every man hath liberty to write, but few ability." [86]"Heretofore
learning was graced by judicious scholars, but now noble sciences are
vilified by base and illiterate scribblers," that either write for
vainglory, need, to get money, or as Parasites to flatter and collogue with
some great men, they put cut [87]_burras, quisquiliasque ineptiasque_.
[88]Amongst so many thousand authors you shall scarce find one, by reading
of whom you shall be any whit better, but rather much worse, _quibus
inficitur potius, quam perficitur_, by which he is rather infected than any
way perfected.

[89]    ------"Qui talia legit,
        Quid didicit tandem, quid scit nisi somnia, nugas?"

So that oftentimes it falls out (which Callimachus taxed of old) a great
book is a great mischief. [90]Cardan finds fault with Frenchmen and
Germans, for their scribbling to no purpose, _non inquit ab edendo
deterreo, modo novum aliquid inveniant_, he doth not bar them to write, so
that it be some new invention of their own; but we weave the same web
still, twist the same rope again and again; or if it be a new invention,
'tis but some bauble or toy which idle fellows write, for as idle fellows
to read, and who so cannot invent? [91]"He must have a barren wit, that in
this scribbling age can forge nothing. [92]Princes show their armies, rich
men vaunt their buildings, soldiers their manhood, and scholars vent their
toys;" they must read, they must hear whether they will or no.

[93]   "Et quodcunque semel chartis illeverit, omnes
        Gestiet a furno redeuntes scire lacuque,
        Et pueros et anus"------

       "What once is said and writ, all men must know,
        Old wives and children as they come and go."

"What a company of poets hath this year brought out," as Pliny complains to
Sossius Sinesius. [94]"This April every day some or other have recited."
What a catalogue of new books all this year, all this age (I say), have our
Frankfort Marts, our domestic Marts brought out? Twice a year, [95]
_Proferunt se nova ingenia et ostentant_, we stretch our wits out, and set
them to sale, _magno conatu nihil agimus_. So that which [96]Gesner much
desires, if a speedy reformation be not had, by some prince's edicts and
grave supervisors, to restrain this liberty, it will run on _in infinitum_.
_Quis tam avidus librorum helluo_, who can read them? As already, we shall
have a vast chaos and confusion of books, we are [97]oppressed with them,
[98]our eyes ache with reading, our fingers with turning. For my part I am
one of the number, _nos numerus sumus_, (we are mere ciphers): I do not
deny it, I have only this of Macrobius to say for myself, _Omne meum, nihil
meum_, 'tis all mine, and none mine. As a good housewife out of divers
fleeces weaves one piece of cloth, a bee gathers wax and honey out of many
flowers, and makes a new bundle of all, _Floriferis ut apes in saltibus
omnia libant_, I have laboriously [99]collected this cento out of divers
writers, and that _sine injuria_, I have wronged no authors, but given
every man his own; which [100]Hierom so much commends in Nepotian; he stole
not whole verses, pages, tracts, as some do nowadays, concealing their
authors' names, but still said this was Cyprian's, that Lactantius, that
Hilarius, so said Minutius Felix, so Victorinus, thus far Arnobius: I cite
and quote mine authors (which, howsoever some illiterate scribblers account
pedantical, as a cloak of ignorance, and opposite to their affected fine
style, I must and will use) _sumpsi, non suripui_; and what Varro, _lib. 6.
de re rust._ speaks of bees, _minime maleficae nullius opus vellicantes
faciunt delerius_, I can say of myself, Whom have I injured? The matter is
theirs most part, and yet mine, _apparet unde sumptum sit_ (which Seneca
approves), _aliud tamen quam unde sumptum sit apparet_, which nature doth
with the aliment of our bodies incorporate, digest, assimilate, I do
_concoquere quod hausi_, dispose of what I take. I make them pay tribute,
to set out this my Maceronicon, the method only is mine own, I must usurp
that of [101]Wecker _e Ter. nihil dictum quod non dictum prius, methodus
sola artificem ostendit_, we can say nothing but what hath been said, the
composition and method is ours only, and shows a scholar. Oribasius,
Aesius, Avicenna, have all out of Galen, but to their own method, _diverso
stilo, non diversa fide_. Our poets steal from Homer; he spews, saith
Aelian, they lick it up. Divines use Austin's words verbatim still, and our
story-dressers do as much; he that comes last is commonly best,

        ------"donec quid grandius aetas
        Postera sorsque ferat melior."------[102]

Though there were many giants of old in physic and philosophy, yet I say
with [103]Didacus Stella, "A dwarf standing on the shoulders of a giant may
see farther than a giant himself;" I may likely add, alter, and see farther
than my predecessors; and it is no greater prejudice for me to indite after
others, than for Aelianus Montaltus, that famous physician, to write _de
morbis capitis_ after Jason Pratensis, Heurnius, Hildesheim, &c., many
horses to run in a race, one logician, one rhetorician, after another.
Oppose then what thou wilt,

       "Allatres licet usque nos et usque
        Et gannitibus improbis lacessas."

I solve it thus. And for those other faults of barbarism, [104]Doric
dialect, extemporanean style, tautologies, apish imitation, a rhapsody of
rags gathered together from several dunghills, excrements of authors, toys
and fopperies confusedly tumbled out, without art, invention, judgment,
wit, learning, harsh, raw, rude, fantastical, absurd, insolent, indiscreet,
ill-composed, indigested, vain, scurrile, idle, dull, and dry; I confess
all ('tis partly affected), thou canst not think worse of me than I do of
myself. 'Tis not worth the reading, I yield it, I desire thee not to lose
time in perusing so vain a subject, I should be peradventure loath myself
to read him or thee so writing; 'tis not _operae, pretium_. All I say is
this, that I have [105]precedents for it, which Isocrates calls _perfugium
iis qui peccant_, others as absurd, vain, idle, illiterate, &c. _Nonnulli
alii idem fecerunt_; others have done as much, it may be more, and perhaps
thou thyself, _Novimus et qui te_, &c. We have all our faults; _scimus, et
hanc, veniaim_, &c.; [106]thou censurest me, so have I done others, and may
do thee, _Cedimus inque vicem_, &c., 'tis _lex talionis, quid pro quo_. Go
now, censure, criticise, scoff, and rail.

[107]  "Nasutus cis usque licet, sis denique nasus:
        Non potes in nugas dicere plura meas,
        Ipse ego quam dixi, &c."

       "Wert thou all scoffs and flouts, a very Momus,
        Than we ourselves, thou canst not say worse of us."

Thus, as when women scold, have I cried whore first, and in some men's
censures I am afraid I have overshot myself, _Laudare se vani, vituperare
stulti_, as I do not arrogate, I will not derogate. _Primus vestrum non
sum, nec imus_, I am none of the best, I am none of the meanest of you. As
I am an inch, or so many feet, so many parasangs, after him or him, I may
be peradventure an ace before thee. Be it therefore as it is, well or ill,
I have essayed, put myself upon the stage; I must abide the censure, I may
not escape it. It is most true, _stylus virum arguit_, our style bewrays
us, and as [108]hunters find their game by the trace, so is a man's genius
descried by his works, _Multo melius ex sermone quam lineamentis, de
moribus hominum judicamus_; it was old Cato's rule. I have laid myself open
(I know it) in this treatise, turned mine inside outward: I shall be
censured, I doubt not; for, to say truth with Erasmus, _nihil morosius
hominum judiciis_, there is nought so peevish as men's judgments; yet this
is some comfort, _ut palata, sic judicia_, our censures are as various as
our palates.

[109]  "Tres mihi convivae prope dissentire videntur,
        Poscentes vario multum diversa palato," &c.

       "Three guests I have, dissenting at my feast,
        Requiring each to gratify his taste
        With different food."

Our writings are as so many dishes, our readers guests, our books like
beauty, that which one admires another rejects; so are we approved as men's
fancies are inclined. _Pro captu lectoris habent sua fata libelli._. That
which is most pleasing to one is _amaracum sui_, most harsh to another.
_Quot homines, tot sententiae_, so many men, so many minds: that which thou
condemnest he commends. [110]_Quod petis, id sane est invisum acidumque
duobus_. He respects matter, thou art wholly for words; he loves a loose
and free style, thou art all for neat composition, strong lines,
hyperboles, allegories; he desires a fine frontispiece, enticing pictures,
such as [111]Hieron. Natali the Jesuit hath cut to the Dominicals, to draw
on the reader's attention, which thou rejectest; that which one admires,
another explodes as most absurd and ridiculous. If it be not point blank to
his humour, his method, his conceit, [112]_si quid, forsan omissum, quod is
animo conceperit, si quae dictio_, &c. If aught be omitted, or added, which
he likes, or dislikes, thou art _mancipium paucae lectionis_, an idiot, an
ass, _nullus es_, or _plagiarius_, a trifler, a trivant, thou art an idle
fellow; or else it is a thing of mere industry, a collection without wit or
invention, a very toy. [113]_Facilia sic putant omnes quae jam facta, nec
de salebris cogitant, ubi via strata_; so men are valued, their labours
vilified by fellows of no worth themselves, as things of nought, who could
not have done as much. _Unusquisque abundat sensu suo_, every man abounds
in his own sense; and whilst each particular party is so affected, how
should one please all?

[114]  "Quid dem? quid non dem? Renuis tu quod jubet ille."

        ------"What courses must I choose?
        What not? What both would order you refuse."

How shall I hope to express myself to each man's humour and [115]conceit,
or to give satisfaction to all? Some understand too little, some too much,
_qui similiter in legendos libros, atque in salutandos homines irruunt, non
cogitantes quales, sed quibus vestibus induti sint_, as [116]Austin
observes, not regarding what, but who write, [117]_orexin habet auctores
celebritas_, not valuing the metal, but stamp that is upon it, _Cantharum
aspiciunt, non quid in eo_. If he be not rich, in great place, polite and
brave, a great doctor, or full fraught with grand titles, though never so
well qualified, he is a dunce; but, as [118]Baronius hath it of Cardinal
Caraffa's works, he is a mere hog that rejects any man for his poverty.
Some are too partial, as friends to overween, others come with a prejudice
to carp, vilify, detract, and scoff; (_qui de me forsan, quicquid est, omni
contemptu contemptius judicant_) some as bees for honey, some as spiders to
gather poison. What shall I do in this case? As a Dutch host, if you come
to an inn in. Germany, and dislike your fare, diet, lodging, &c., replies
in a surly tone, [119]_aliud tibi quaeras diversorium_, if you like not
this, get you to another inn: I resolve, if you like not my writing, go
read something else. I do not much esteem thy censure, take thy course, it
is not as thou wilt, nor as I will, but when we have both done, that of
[120]Plinius Secundus to Trajan will prove true, "Every man's witty labour
takes not, except the matter, subject, occasion, and some commending
favourite happen to it." If I be taxed, exploded by thee and some such, I
shall haply be approved and commended by others, and so have been
(_Expertus loquor_), and may truly say with [121]Jovius in like case,
_(absit verbo jactantia) heroum quorundam, pontificum, et virorum nobilium
familiaritatem et amicitiam, gratasque gratias, et multorum [122] bene
laudatorum laudes sum inde promeritus_, as I have been honoured by some
worthy men, so have I been vilified by others, and shall be. At the first
publishing of this book, (which [123]Probus of Persius satires), _editum
librum continuo mirari homines, atque avide deripere caeperunt_, I may in
some sort apply to this my work. The first, second, and third edition were
suddenly gone, eagerly read, and, as I have said, not so much approved by
some, as scornfully rejected by others. But it was Democritus his fortune,
_Idem admirationi et [124]irrisioni habitus_. 'Twas Seneca's fate, that
superintendent of wit, learning, judgment, [125]_ad stuporem doctus_, the
best of Greek and Latin writers, in Plutarch's opinion; that "renowned
corrector of vice," as, [126]Fabius terms him, "and painful omniscious
philosopher, that writ so excellently and admirably well," could not please
all parties, or escape censure. How is he vilified by [127] Caligula,
Agellius, Fabius, and Lipsius himself, his chief propugner? _In eo pleraque
pernitiosa_, saith the same Fabius, many childish tracts and sentences he
hath, _sermo illaboratus_, too negligent often and remiss, as Agellius
observes, _oratio vulgaris et protrita, dicaces et ineptae, sententiae,
eruditio plebeia_, an homely shallow writer as he is. _In partibus spinas
et fastidia habet_, saith [128]Lipsius; and, as in all his other works, so
especially in his epistles, _aliae in argutiis et ineptiis occupantur,
intricatus alicubi, et parum compositus, sine copia rerum hoc fecit_, he
jumbles up many things together immethodically, after the Stoics' fashion,
_parum ordinavit, multa accumulavit_, &c. If Seneca be thus lashed, and
many famous men that I could name, what shall I expect? How shall I that am
_vix umbra tanti philosophi_ hope to please? "No man so absolute"
([129]Erasmus holds) "to satisfy all, except antiquity, prescription, &c.,
set a bar." But as I have proved in Seneca, this will not always take
place, how shall I evade? 'Tis the common doom of all writers, I must (I
say) abide it; I seek not applause; [130]_Non ego ventosa venor suffragia
plebis_; again, _non sum adeo informis_, I would not be [131]vilified:

[132]   ------"laudatus abunde,
        Non fastiditus si tibi, lector, ero."

I fear good men's censures, and to their favourable acceptance I submit my

[133]   ------"et linguas mancipiorum

As the barking of a dog, I securely contemn those malicious and scurrile
obloquies, flouts, calumnies of railers and detractors; I scorn the rest.
What therefore I have said, _pro tenuitate mea_, I have said.

One or two things yet I was desirous to have amended if I could, concerning
the manner of handling this my subject, for which I must apologise,
_deprecari_, and upon better advice give the friendly reader notice: it was
not mine intent to prostitute my muse in English, or to divulge _secreta
Minervae_, but to have exposed this more contract in Latin, if I could have
got it printed. Any scurrile pamphlet is welcome to our mercenary
stationers in English; they print all

        ------"cuduntque libellos
        In quorum foliis vix simia nuda cacaret;"

But in Latin they will not deal; which is one of the reasons [134]Nicholas
Car, in his oration of the paucity of English writers, gives, that so many
flourishing wits are smothered in oblivion, lie dead and buried in this our
nation. Another main fault is, that I have not revised the copy, and
amended the style, which now flows remissly, as it was first conceived; but
my leisure would not permit; _Feci nec quod potui, nec quod volui_, I
confess it is neither as I would, nor as it should be.

[135]  "Cum relego scripsisse pudet, quia plurima cerno
        Me quoque quae fuerant judice digna lini."

       "When I peruse this tract which I have writ,
        I am abash'd, and much I hold unfit."

_Et quod gravissimum_, in the matter itself, many things I disallow at this
present, which when I writ, [136]_Non eadem est aetas, non mens_; I would
willingly retract much, &c., but 'tis too late, I can only crave pardon now
for what is amiss.

I might indeed, (had I wisely done) observed that precept of the poet,
------_nonumque prematur in annum_, and have taken more care: or, as
Alexander the physician would have done by lapis lazuli, fifty times washed
before it be used, I should have revised, corrected and amended this tract;
but I had not (as I said) that happy leisure, no amanuenses or assistants.
Pancrates in [137]Lucian, wanting a servant as he went from Memphis to
Coptus in Egypt, took a door bar, and after some superstitious words
pronounced (Eucrates the relator was then present) made it stand up like a
serving-man, fetch him water, turn the spit, serve in supper, and what work
he would besides; and when he had done that service he desired, turned his
man to a stick again. I have no such skill to make new men at my pleasure,
or means to hire them; no whistle to call like the master of a ship, and
bid them run, &c. I have no such authority, no such benefactors, as that
noble [138]Ambrosius was to Origen, allowing him six or seven amanuenses to
write out his dictates; I must for that cause do my business myself, and
was therefore enforced, as a bear doth her whelps, to bring forth this
confused lump; I had not time to lick it into form, as she doth her young
ones, but even so to publish it, as it was first written _quicquid in
buccam venit_, in an extemporean style, as [139]I do commonly all other
exercises, _effudi quicquid dictavit genius meus_, out of a confused
company of notes, and writ with as small deliberation as I do ordinarily
speak, without all affectation of big words, fustian phrases, jingling
terms, tropes, strong lines, that like [140]Acesta's arrows caught fire as
they flew, strains of wit, brave heats, elegies, hyperbolical exornations,
elegancies, &c., which many so much affect. I am [141]_aquae potor_, drink
no wine at all, which so much improves our modern wits, a loose, plain,
rude writer, _ficum, voco ficum et ligonem ligonem_ and as free, as loose,
_idem calamo quod in mente_, [142]I call a spade a spade, _animis haec
scribo, non auribus_, I respect matter not words; remembering that of
Cardan, _verba propter res, non res propter verba_: and seeking with
Seneca, _quid scribam, non quemadmodum_, rather _what_ than _how_ to write:
for as Philo thinks, [143]"He that is conversant about matter, neglects
words, and those that excel in this art of speaking, have no profound

[144]  "Verba nitent phaleris, at nullus verba medullas
        Intus habent"------

Besides, it was the observation of that wise Seneca, [145]"when you see a
fellow careful about his words, and neat in his speech, know this for a
certainty, that man's mind is busied about toys, there's no solidity in
him." _Non est ornamentum virile concinnitas_: as he said of a nightingale,
------_vox es, praeterea nihil_, &c. I am therefore in this point a
professed disciple of [146]Apollonius a scholar of Socrates, I neglect
phrases, and labour wholly to inform my reader's understanding, not to
please his ear; 'tis not my study or intent to compose neatly, which an
orator requires, but to express myself readily and plainly as it happens.
So that as a river runs sometimes precipitate and swift, then dull and
slow; now direct, then _per ambages_, now deep, then shallow; now muddy,
then clear; now broad, then narrow; doth my style flow: now serious, then
light; now comical, then satirical; now more elaborate, then remiss, as the
present subject required, or as at that time I was affected. And if thou
vouchsafe to read this treatise, it shall seem no otherwise to thee, than
the way to an ordinary traveller, sometimes fair, sometimes foul; here
champaign, there enclosed; barren, in one place, better soil in another: by
woods, groves, hills, dales, plains, &c. I shall lead thee _per ardua
montium, et lubrica valllum, et roscida cespitum, et [147]glebosa
camporum_, through variety of objects, that which thou shalt like and
surely dislike.

For the matter itself or method, if it be faulty, consider I pray you that
of _Columella, Nihil perfectum, aut a singulari consummatum industria_, no
man can observe all, much is defective no doubt, may be justly taxed,
altered, and avoided in Galen, Aristotle, those great masters. _Boni
venatoris_ ([148]one holds) _plures feras capere, non omnes_; he is a good
huntsman can catch some, not all: I have done my endeavour. Besides, I
dwell not in this study, _Non hic sulcos ducimus, non hoc pulvere
desudamus_, I am but a smatterer, I confess, a stranger, [149]here and
there I pull a flower; I do easily grant, if a rigid censurer should
criticise on this which I have writ, he should not find three sole faults,
as Scaliger in Terence, but three hundred. So many as he hath done in
Cardan's subtleties, as many notable errors as [150]Gul Laurembergius, a
late professor of Rostock, discovers in that anatomy of Laurentius, or
Barocius the Venetian in _Sacro boscus_. And although this be a sixth
edition, in which I should have been more accurate, corrected all those
former escapes, yet it was _magni laboris opus_, so difficult and tedious,
that as carpenters do find out of experience, 'tis much better build a new
sometimes, than repair an old house; I could as soon write as much more, as
alter that which is written. If aught therefore be amiss (as I grant there
is), I require a friendly admonition, no bitter invective, [151]_Sint musis
socii Charites, Furia omnis abesto_, otherwise, as in ordinary
controversies, _funem contentionis nectamus, sed cui bono_? We may contend,
and likely misuse each other, but to what purpose? We are both scholars,

[152]   ------"Arcades ambo
        Et Cantare pares, et respondere parati."

       "Both young Arcadians, both alike inspir'd
        To sing and answer as the song requir'd."

If we do wrangle, what shall we get by it? Trouble and wrong ourselves,
make sport to others. If I be convict of an error, I will yield, I will
amend. _Si quid bonis moribus, si quid veritati dissentaneum, in sacris vel
humanis literis a me dictum sit, id nec dictum esto_. In the mean time I
require a favourable censure of all faults omitted, harsh compositions,
pleonasms of words, tautological repetitions (though Seneca bear me out,
_nunquam nimis dicitur, quod nunquam satis dicitur_) perturbations of
tenses, numbers, printers' faults, &c. My translations are sometimes rather
paraphrases than interpretations, _non ad verbum_, but as an author, I use
more liberty, and that's only taken which was to my purpose. Quotations are
often inserted in the text, which makes the style more harsh, or in the
margin, as it happened. Greek authors, Plato, Plutarch, Athenaeus, &c., I
have cited out of their interpreters, because the original was not so
ready. I have mingled _sacra prophanis_, but I hope not profaned, and in
repetition of authors' names, ranked them _per accidens_, not according to
chronology; sometimes neoterics before ancients, as my memory suggested.
Some things are here altered, expunged in this sixth edition, others
amended, much added, because many good [153]authors in all kinds are come
to my hands since, and 'tis no prejudice, no such indecorum, or oversight.

[154]  "Nunquam ita quicquam bene subducta ratione ad vitam fuit,
        Quin res, aetas, usus, semper aliquid apportent novi,
        Aliquid moneant, ut illa quae scire te credas, nescias,
        Et quae tibi putaris prima, in exercendo ut repudias."

       "Ne'er was ought yet at first contriv'd so fit,
        But use, age, or something would alter it;
        Advise thee better, and, upon peruse,
        Make thee not say, and what thou tak'st refuse."

But I am now resolved never to put this treatise out again, _Ne quid
nimis_, I will not hereafter add, alter, or retract; I have done. The last
and greatest exception is, that I, being a divine, have meddled with

[155]  "Tantumne est ab re tua otii tibi,
        Aliena ut cures, eaque nihil quae ad te attinent."

Which Menedemus objected to Chremes; have I so much leisure, or little
business of mine own, as to look after other men's matters which concern me
not? What have I to do with physic? _Quod medicorum est promittant medici_.
The [156]Lacedaemonians were once in counsel about state matters, a
debauched fellow spake excellent well, and to the purpose, his speech was
generally approved: a grave senator steps up, and by all means would have
it repealed, though good, because _dehonestabatur pessimo auctore_, it had
no better an author; let some good man relate the same, and then it should
pass. This counsel was embraced, _factum est_, and it was registered
forthwith, _Et sic bona sententia mansit, malus auctor mutatus est_. Thou
sayest as much of me, stomachosus as thou art, and grantest, peradventure,
this which I have written in physic, not to be amiss, had another done it,
a professed physician, or so, but why should I meddle with this tract? Hear
me speak. There be many other subjects, I do easily grant, both in humanity
and divinity, fit to be treated of, of which had I written _ad
ostentationem_ only, to show myself, I should have rather chosen, and in
which I have been more conversant, I could have more willingly luxuriated,
and better satisfied myself and others; but that at this time I was fatally
driven upon this rock of melancholy, and carried away by this by-stream,
which, as a rillet, is deducted from the main channel of my studies, in
which I have pleased and busied myself at idle hours, as a subject most
necessary and commodious. Not that I prefer it before divinity, which I do
acknowledge to be the queen of professions, and to which all the rest are
as handmaids, but that in divinity I saw no such great need. For had I
written positively, there be so many books in that kind, so many
commentators, treatises, pamphlets, expositions, sermons, that whole teams
of oxen cannot draw them; and had I been as forward and ambitious as some
others, I might have haply printed a sermon at Paul's Cross, a sermon in
St. Marie's Oxon, a sermon in Christ Church, or a sermon before the right
honourable, right reverend, a sermon before the right worshipful, a sermon
in Latin, in English, a sermon with a name, a sermon without, a sermon, a
sermon, &c. But I have been ever as desirous to suppress my labours in this
kind, as others have been to press and publish theirs. To have written in
controversy had been to cut off an hydra's head, [157]_Lis litem generat_,
one begets another, so many duplications, triplications, and swarms of
questions. _In sacro bello hoc quod stili mucrone agitur_, that having once
begun, I should never make an end. One had much better, as [158]Alexander,
the sixth pope, long since observed, provoke a great prince than a begging
friar, a Jesuit, or a seminary priest, I will add, for _inexpugnabile genus
hoc hominum_, they are an irrefragable society, they must and will have the
last word; and that with such eagerness, impudence, abominable lying,
falsifying, and bitterness in their questions they proceed, that as he
[159]said, _furorne caecus, an rapit vis acrior, an culpa, responsum date_?
Blind fury, or error, or rashness, or what it is that eggs them, I know
not, I am sure many times, which [160]Austin perceived long since,
_tempestate contentionis, serenitas charitatis obnubilatur_, with this
tempest of contention, the serenity of charity is overclouded, and there be
too many spirits conjured up already in this kind in all sciences, and more
than we can tell how to lay, which do so furiously rage, and keep such a
racket, that as [161]Fabius said, "It had been much better for some of them
to have been born dumb, and altogether illiterate, than so far to dote to
their own destruction."

       "At melius fuerat non scribere, namque tacere
        Tutum semper erit,"------[162]

'Tis a general fault, so Severinus the Dane complains [163]in physic,
"unhappy men as we are, we spend our days in unprofitable questions and
disputations," intricate subtleties, _de lana caprina_ about moonshine in
the water, "leaving in the mean time those chiefest treasures of nature
untouched, wherein the best medicines for all manner of diseases are to be
found, and do not only neglect them ourselves, but hinder, condemn, forbid,
and scoff at others, that are willing to inquire after them." These motives
at this present have induced me to make choice of this medicinal subject.

If any physician in the mean time shall infer, _Ne sutor ultra crepidam_,
and find himself grieved that I have intruded into his profession, I will
tell him in brief, I do not otherwise by them, than they do by us. If it be
for their advantage, I know many of their sect which have taken orders, in
hope of a benefice, 'tis a common transition, and why may not a melancholy
divine, that can get nothing but by simony, profess physic? Drusianus an
Italian (Crusianus, but corruptly, Trithemius calls him) [164]"because he
was not fortunate in his practice, forsook his profession, and writ
afterwards in divinity." Marcilius Ficinus was _semel et simul_; a priest
and a physician at once, and [165]T. Linacer in his old age took orders.
The Jesuits profess both at this time, divers of them _permissu
superiorum_, chirurgeons, panders, bawds, and midwives, &c. Many poor
country-vicars, for want of other means, are driven to their shifts; to
turn mountebanks, quacksalvers, empirics, and if our greedy patrons hold us
to such hard conditions, as commonly they do, they will make most of us
work at some trade, as Paul did, at last turn taskers, maltsters,
costermongers, graziers, sell ale as some have done, or worse. Howsoever in
undertaking this task, I hope I shall commit no great error or _indecorum_,
if all be considered aright, I can vindicate myself with Georgius Braunus,
and Hieronymus Hemingius, those two learned divines; who (to borrow a line
or two of mine [166]elder brother) drawn by a "natural love, the one of
pictures and maps, prospectives and chorographical delights, writ that
ample theatre of cities; the other to the study of genealogies, penned
_theatrum genealogicum_." Or else I can excuse my studies with [167]Lessius
the Jesuit in like case. It is a disease of the soul on which I am to
treat, and as much appertaining to a divine as to a physician, and who
knows not what an agreement there is betwixt these two professions? A good
divine either is or ought to be a good physician, a spiritual physician at
least, as our Saviour calls himself, and was indeed, Mat. iv. 23; Luke, v.
18; Luke, vii. 8. They differ but in object, the one of the body, the other
of the soul, and use divers medicines to cure; one amends _animam per
corpus_, the other _corpus per animam_ as [168]our Regius Professor of
physic well informed us in a learned lecture of his not long since. One
helps the vices and passions of the soul, anger, lust, desperation, pride,
presumption, &c. by applying that spiritual physic; as the other uses
proper remedies in bodily diseases. Now this being a common infirmity of
body and soul, and such a one that hath as much need of spiritual as a
corporal cure, I could not find a fitter task to busy myself about, a more
apposite theme, so necessary, so commodious, and generally concerning all
sorts of men, that should so equally participate of both, and require a
whole physician. A divine in this compound mixed malady can do little
alone, a physician in some kinds of melancholy much less, both make an
absolute cure.

[169]  "Alterius sic altera poscit opem."

        ------"when in friendship joined
        A mutual succour in each other find."

And 'tis proper to them both, and I hope not unbeseeming me, who am by my
profession a divine, and by mine inclination a physician. I had Jupiter in
my sixth house; I say with [170]Beroaldus, _non sum medicus, nec medicinae
prorsus expers_, in the theory of physic I have taken some pains, not with
an intent to practice, but to satisfy myself, which was a cause likewise of
the first undertaking of this subject.

If these reasons do not satisfy thee, good reader, as Alexander Munificus
that bountiful prelate, sometimes bishop of Lincoln, when he had built six
castles, _ad invidiam operis eluendam_, saith [171]Mr. Camden, to take away
the envy of his work (which very words Nubrigensis hath of Roger the rich
bishop of Salisbury, who in king Stephen's time built Shirburn castle, and
that of Devises), to divert the scandal or imputation, which might be
thence inferred, built so many religious houses. If this my discourse be
over-medicinal, or savour too much of humanity, I promise thee that I will
hereafter make thee amends in some treatise of divinity. But this I hope
shall suffice, when you have more fully considered of the matter of this my
subject, _rem substratam_, melancholy, madness, and of the reasons
following, which were my chief motives: the generality of the disease, the
necessity of the cure, and the commodity or common good that will arise to
all men by the knowledge of it, as shall at large appear in the ensuing
preface. And I doubt not but that in the end you will say with me, that to
anatomise this humour aright, through all the members of this our
Microcosmus, is as great a task, as to reconcile those chronological errors
in the Assyrian monarchy, find out the quadrature of a circle, the creeks
and sounds of the north-east, or north-west passages, and all out as good a
discovery as that hungry [172]Spaniard's of Terra Australis Incognita, as
great trouble as to perfect the motion of Mars and Mercury, which so
crucifies our astronomers, or to rectify the Gregorian Calendar. I am so
affected for my part, and hope as [173]Theophrastus did by his characters,
"That our posterity, O friend Policles, shall be the better for this which
we have written, by correcting and rectifying what is amiss in themselves
by our examples, and applying our precepts and cautions to their own use."
And as that great captain Zisca would have a drum made of his skin when he
was dead, because he thought the very noise of it would put his enemies to
flight, I doubt not but that these following lines, when they shall be
recited, or hereafter read, will drive away melancholy (though I be gone)
as much as Zisca's drum could terrify his foes. Yet one caution let me give
by the way to my present, or my future reader, who is actually melancholy,
that he read not the [174]symptoms or prognostics in this following tract,
lest by applying that which he reads to himself, aggravating, appropriating
things generally spoken, to his own person (as melancholy men for the most
part do) he trouble or hurt himself, and get in conclusion more harm than
good. I advise them therefore warily to peruse that tract, _Lapides
loquitur_ (so said [175]Agrippa _de occ. Phil._) _et caveant lectores ne
cerebrum iis excutiat_. The rest I doubt not they may securely read, and to
their benefit. But I am over-tedious, I proceed.

Of the necessity and generality of this which I have said, if any man
doubt, I shall desire him to make a brief survey of the world, as [176]
Cyprian adviseth Donat, "supposing himself to be transported to the top of
some high mountain, and thence to behold the tumults and chances of this
wavering world, he cannot choose but either laugh at, or pity it." S.
Hierom out of a strong imagination, being in the wilderness, conceived with
himself, that he then saw them dancing in Rome; and if thou shalt either
conceive, or climb to see, thou shalt soon perceive that all the world is
mad, that it is melancholy, dotes; that it is (which Epichthonius
Cosmopolites expressed not many years since in a map) made like a fool's
head (with that motto, _Caput helleboro dignum_) a crazed head, _cavea
stultorum_, a fool's paradise, or as Apollonius, a common prison of gulls,
cheaters, flatterers, &c. and needs to be reformed. Strabo in the ninth
book of his geography, compares Greece to the picture of a man, which
comparison of his, Nic. Gerbelius in his exposition of Sophianus' map,
approves; the breast lies open from those Acroceraunian hills in Epirus, to
the Sunian promontory in Attica; Pagae and Magaera are the two shoulders;
that Isthmus of Corinth the neck; and Peloponnesus the head. If this
allusion hold, 'tis sure a mad head; Morea may be Moria; and to speak what
I think, the inhabitants of modern Greece swerve as much from reason and
true religion at this day, as that Morea doth from the picture of a man.
Examine the rest in like sort, and you shall find that kingdoms and
provinces are melancholy, cities and families, all creatures, vegetal,
sensible, and rational, that all sorts, sects, ages, conditions, are out of
tune, as in Cebes' table, _omnes errorem bibunt_, before they come into the
world, they are intoxicated by error's cup, from the highest to the lowest
have need of physic, and those particular actions in [177]Seneca, where
father and son prove one another mad, may be general; Porcius Latro shall
plead against us all. For indeed who is not a fool, melancholy, mad?--[178]
_Qui nil molitur inepte_, who is not brain-sick? Folly, melancholy,
madness, are but one disease, _Delirium_ is a common name to all.
Alexander, Gordonius, Jason Pratensis, Savanarola, Guianerius, Montaltus,
confound them as differing _secundum magis et minus_; so doth David, Psal.
xxxvii. 5. "I said unto the fools, deal not so madly," and 'twas an old
Stoical paradox, _omnes stultos insanire_, [179]all fools are mad, though
some madder than others. And who is not a fool, who is free from
melancholy? Who is not touched more or less in habit or disposition? If in
disposition, "ill dispositions beget habits, if they persevere," saith
[180]Plutarch, habits either are, or turn to diseases. 'Tis the same which
Tully maintains in the second of his Tusculans, _omnium insipientum animi
in morbo sunt, et perturbatorum_, fools are sick, and all that are troubled
in mind: for what is sickness, but as [181]Gregory Tholosanus defines it,
"A dissolution or perturbation of the bodily league, which health
combines:" and who is not sick, or ill-disposed? in whom doth not passion,
anger, envy, discontent, fear and sorrow reign? Who labours not of this
disease? Give me but a little leave, and you shall see by what testimonies,
confessions, arguments, I will evince it, that most men are mad, that they
had as much need to go a pilgrimage to the Anticyrae (as in [182]Strabo's
time they did) as in our days they run to Compostella, our Lady of Sichem,
or Lauretta, to seek for help; that it is like to be as prosperous a voyage
as that of Guiana, and that there is much more need of hellebore than of

That men are so misaffected, melancholy, mad, giddy-headed, hear the
testimony of Solomon, Eccl. ii. 12. "And I turned to behold wisdom, madness
and folly," &c. And ver. 23: "All his days are sorrow, his travel grief,
and his heart taketh no rest in the night." So that take melancholy in what
sense you will, properly or improperly, in disposition or habit, for
pleasure or for pain, dotage, discontent, fear, sorrow, madness, for part,
or all, truly, or metaphorically, 'tis all one. Laughter itself is madness
according to Solomon, and as St. Paul hath it, "Worldly sorrow brings
death." "The hearts of the sons of men are evil, and madness is in their
hearts while they live," Eccl. ix. 3. "Wise men themselves are no better."
Eccl. i. 18. "In the multitude of wisdom is much grief, and he that
increaseth wisdom, increaseth sorrow," chap. ii. 17. He hated life itself,
nothing pleased him: he hated his labour, all, as [183]he concludes, is
"sorrow, grief, vanity, vexation of spirit." And though he were the wisest
man in the world, _sanctuarium sapientiae_, and had wisdom in abundance, he
will not vindicate himself, or justify his own actions. "Surely I am more
foolish than any man, and have not the understanding of a man in me," Prov.
xxx. 2. Be they Solomon's words, or the words of Agur, the son of Jakeh,
they are canonical. David, a man after God's own heart, confesseth as much
of himself, Psal. xxxvii. 21, 22. "So foolish was I and ignorant, I was
even as a beast before thee." And condemns all for fools, Psal. xciii.;
xxxii. 9; xlix. 20. He compares them to "beasts, horses, and mules, in
which there is no understanding." The apostle Paul accuseth himself in like
sort, 2 Cor. ix. 21. "I would you would suffer a little my foolishness, I
speak foolishly." "The whole head is sick," saith Esay, "and the heart is
heavy," cap. i. 5. And makes lighter of them than of oxen and asses, "the
ox knows his owner," &c.: read Deut. xxxii. 6; Jer. iv.; Amos, iii. 1;
Ephes. v. 6. "Be not mad, be not deceived, foolish Galatians, who hath
bewitched you?" How often are they branded with this epithet of madness and
folly? No word so frequent amongst the fathers of the Church and divines;
you may see what an opinion they had of the world, and how they valued
men's actions.

I know that we think far otherwise, and hold them most part wise men that
are in authority, princes, magistrates, [184]rich men, they are wise men
born, all politicians and statesmen must needs be so, for who dare speak
against them? And on the other, so corrupt is our judgment, we esteem wise
and honest men fools. Which Democritus well signified in an epistle of his
to Hippocrates: [185]the "Abderites account virtue madness," and so do most
men living. Shall I tell you the reason of it? [186]Fortune and Virtue,
Wisdom and Folly, their seconds, upon a time contended in the Olympics;
every man thought that Fortune and Folly would have the worst, and pitied
their cases; but it fell out otherwise. Fortune was blind and cared not
where she stroke, nor whom, without laws, _Audabatarum instar_, &c. Folly,
rash and inconsiderate, esteemed as little what she said or did. Virtue and
Wisdom gave [187]place, were hissed out, and exploded by the common people;
Folly and Fortune admired, and so are all their followers ever since:
knaves and fools commonly fare and deserve best in worldlings' eyes and
opinions. Many good men have no better fate in their ages: Achish, 1 Sam.
xxi. 14, held David for a madman. [188]Elisha and the rest were no
otherwise esteemed. David was derided of the common people, Ps. ix. 7, "I
am become a monster to many." And generally we are accounted fools for
Christ, 1 Cor. xiv. "We fools thought his life madness, and his end without
honour," Wisd. v. 4. Christ and his Apostles were censured in like sort,
John x.; Mark iii.; Acts xxvi. And so were all Christians in [189]Pliny's
time, _fuerunt et alii, similis dementiae_, &c. And called not long after,
[190]_Vesaniae sectatores, eversores hominum, polluti novatores, fanatici,
canes, malefici, venefici, Galilaei homunciones_, &c. 'Tis an ordinary
thing with us, to account honest, devout, orthodox, divine, religious,
plain-dealing men, idiots, asses, that cannot, or will not lie and
dissemble, shift, flatter, _accommodare se ad eum locum ubi nati sunt_,
make good bargains, supplant, thrive, _patronis inservire; solennes
ascendendi modos apprehendere, leges, mores, consuetudines recte observare,
candide laudare, fortiter defendere, sententias amplecti, dubitare de
nullus, credere omnia, accipere omnia, nihil reprehendere, caeteraque quae
promotionem ferunt et securitatem, quae sine ambage felicem, reddunt
hominem, et vere sapientem apud nos_; that cannot temporise as other men
do, [191]hand and take bribes, &c. but fear God, and make a conscience of
their doings. But the Holy Ghost that knows better how to judge, he calls
them fools. "The fool hath said in his heart," Psal. liii. 1. "And their
ways utter their folly," Psal. xlix. 14. [192]"For what can be more mad,
than for a little worldly pleasure to procure unto themselves eternal
punishment?" As Gregory and others inculcate unto us.

Yea even all those great philosophers the world hath ever had in
admiration, whose works we do so much esteem, that gave precepts of wisdom
to others, inventors of Arts and Sciences, Socrates the wisest man of his
time by the Oracle of Apollo, whom his two scholars, [193]Plato and [194]
Xenophon, so much extol and magnify with those honourable titles, "best and
wisest of all mortal men, the happiest, and most just;" and as [195]
Alcibiades incomparably commends him; Achilles was a worthy man, but
Bracides and others were as worthy as himself; Antenor and Nestor were as
good as Pericles, and so of the rest; but none present, before, or after
Socrates, _nemo veterum neque eorum qui nunc sunt_, were ever such, will
match, or come near him. Those seven wise men of Greece, those Britain
Druids, Indian Brachmanni, Ethiopian Gymnosophist, Magi of the Persians,
Apollonius, of whom Philostratus, _Non doctus, sed natus sapiens_, wise
from his cradle, Epicurus so much admired by his scholar Lucretius:

       "Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit, et omnes
        Perstrinxit stellas exortus ut aetherius sol."

       "Whose wit excell'd the wits of men as far,
        As the sun rising doth obscure a star,"

Or that so much renowned Empedocles,

[196]  "Ut vix humana videatur stirpe creatus."

All those of whom we read such [197]hyperbolical eulogiums, as of
Aristotle, that he was wisdom itself in the abstract, [198]a miracle of
nature, breathing libraries, as Eunapius of Longinus, lights of nature,
giants for wit, quintessence of wit, divine spirits, eagles in the clouds,
fallen from heaven, gods, spirits, lamps of the world, dictators, _Nulla
ferant talem saecla futura virum_: monarchs, miracles, superintendents of
wit and learning, _oceanus, phoenix, atlas, monstrum, portentum hominis,
orbis universi musaeum, ultimus humana naturae donatus, naturae maritus_,

        ------"merito cui doctior orbis
        Submissis defert fascibus imperium."

As Aelian writ of Protagoras and Gorgias, we may say of them all, _tantum a
sapientibus abfuerunt, quantum a viris pueri_, they were children in
respect, infants, not eagles, but kites; novices, illiterate, _Eunuchi
sapientiae_. And although they were the wisest, and most admired in their
age, as he censured Alexander, I do them, there were 10,000 in his army as
worthy captains (had they been in place of command) as valiant as himself;
there were myriads of men wiser in those days, and yet all short of what
they ought to be. [199]Lactantius, in his book of wisdom, proves them to be
dizzards, fools, asses, madmen, so full of absurd and ridiculous tenets,
and brain-sick positions, that to his thinking never any old woman or sick
person doted worse. [200]Democritus took all from Leucippus, and left,
saith he, "the inheritance of his folly to Epicurus," [201]_insanienti dum
sapientiae_, &c. The like he holds of Plato, Aristippus, and the rest,
making no difference [202]"betwixt them and beasts, saving that they could
speak." [203]Theodoret in his tract, _De cur. grec. affect._ manifestly
evinces as much of Socrates, whom though that Oracle of Apollo confirmed to
be the wisest man then living, and saved him from plague, whom 2000 years
have admired, of whom some will as soon speak evil as of Christ, yet _re
vera_, he was an illiterate idiot, as [204]Aristophanes calls him,
_irriscor et ambitiosus_, as his master Aristotle terms him, _scurra
Atticus_, as Zeno, an [205]enemy to all arts and sciences, as Athaeneus, to
philosophers and travellers, an opiniative ass, a caviller, a kind of
pedant; for his manners, as Theod. Cyrensis describes him, a [206]
sodomite, an atheist, (so convict by Anytus) _iracundus et ebrius, dicax_,
&c. a pot-companion, by [207]Plato's own confession, a sturdy drinker; and
that of all others he was most sottish, a very madman in his actions and
opinions. Pythagoras was part philosopher, part magician, or part witch. If
you desire to hear more of Apollonius, a great wise man, sometime
paralleled by Julian the apostate to Christ, I refer you to that learned
tract of Eusebius against Hierocles, and for them all to Lucian's
_Piscator, Icaromenippus, Necyomantia_: their actions, opinions in general
were so prodigious, absurd, ridiculous, which they broached and maintained,
their books and elaborate treatises were full of dotage, which Tully _ad
Atticum_ long since observed, _delirant plerumque scriptores in libris
suis_, their lives being opposite to their words, they commended poverty to
others, and were most covetous themselves, extolled love and peace, and yet
persecuted one another with virulent hate and malice. They could give
precepts for verse and prose, but not a man of them (as [208]Seneca tells
them home) could moderate his affections. Their music did show us _flebiles
modos_, &c. how to rise and fall, but they could not so contain themselves
as in adversity not to make a lamentable tone. They will measure ground by
geometry, set down limits, divide and subdivide, but cannot yet prescribe
_quantum homini satis_, or keep within compass of reason and discretion.
They can square circles, but understand not the state of their own souls,
describe right lines and crooked, &c. but know not what is right in this
life, _quid in vita rectum sit, ignorant_; so that as he said, _Nescio an
Anticyram ratio illis destinet omnem._ I think all the Anticyrae will not
restore them to their wits, [209]if these men now, that held [210]
Xenodotus' heart, Crates' liver, Epictetus' lantern, were so sottish, and
had no more brains than so many beetles, what shall we think of the
commonalty? what of the rest?

Yea, but you will infer, that is true of heathens, if they be conferred
with Christians, 1 Cor. iii. 19. "The wisdom of this world is foolishness
with God, earthly and devilish," as James calls it, iii. 15. "They were
vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was full of darkness,"
Rom. i. 21, 22. "When they professed themselves wise, became fools." Their
witty works are admired here on earth, whilst their souls are tormented in
hell fire. In some sense, _Christiani Crassiani_, Christians are Crassians,
and if compared to that wisdom, no better than fools. _Quis est sapiens?
Solus Deus_, [211]Pythagoras replies, "God is only wise," Rom. xvi. Paul
determines "only good," as Austin well contends, "and no man living can be
justified in his sight." "God looked down from heaven upon the children of
men, to see if any did understand," Psalm liii. 2, 3, but all are corrupt,
err. Rom. iii. 12, "None doeth good, no, not one." Job aggravates this, iv.
18, "Behold he found no steadfastness in his servants, and laid folly upon
his angels;" 19. "How much more on them that dwell in houses of clay?" In
this sense we are all fools, and the [212]Scripture alone is _arx
Minervae_, we and our writings are shallow and imperfect. But I do not so
mean; even in our ordinary dealings we are no better than fools. "All our
actions," as [213]Pliny told Trajan, "upbraid us of folly," our whole
course of life is but matter of laughter: we are not soberly wise; and the
world itself, which ought at least to be wise by reason of his antiquity,
as [214]Hugo de Prato Florido will have it, "_semper stultizat_, is every
day more foolish than other; the more it is whipped, the worse it is, and
as a child will still be crowned with roses and flowers." We are apish in
it, _asini bipedes_, and every place is full _inversorum Apuleiorum_ of
metamorphosed and two-legged asses, _inversorum Silenorum_, childish,
_pueri instar bimuli, tremula patris dormientis in ulna_. Jovianus
Pontanus, Antonio Dial, brings in some laughing at an old man, that by
reason of his age was a little fond, but as he admonisheth there, _Ne
mireris mi hospes de hoc sene_, marvel not at him only, for _tota haec
civitas delirium_, all our town dotes in like sort, [215]we are a company
of fools. Ask not with him in the poet, [216]_Larvae hunc intemperiae
insaniaeque agitant senem_? What madness ghosts this old man, but what
madness ghosts us all? For we are _ad unum omnes_, all mad, _semel
insanivimus omnes_ not once, but alway so, _et semel, et simul, et semper_,
ever and altogether as bad as he; and not _senex bis puer, delira anus_,
but say it of us all, _semper pueri_, young and old, all dote, as
Lactantius proves out of Seneca; and no difference betwixt us and children,
saving that, _majora ludimus, et grandioribus pupis_, they play with babies
of clouts and such toys, we sport with greater baubles. We cannot accuse or
condemn one another, being faulty ourselves, _deliramenta loqueris_, you
talk idly, or as [217]Mitio upbraided Demea, _insanis, auferte_, for we are
as mad our own selves, and it is hard to say which is the worst. Nay, 'tis
universally so, [218]_Vitam regit fortuna, non sapientia_.

When [219]Socrates had taken great pains to find out a wise man, and to
that purpose had consulted with philosophers, poets, artificers, he
concludes all men were fools; and though it procured him both anger and
much envy, yet in all companies he would openly profess it. When [220]
Supputius in Pontanus had travelled all over Europe to confer with a wise
man, he returned at last without his errand, and could find none. [221]
Cardan concurs with him, "Few there are (for aught I can perceive) well in
their wits." So doth [222]Tully, "I see everything to be done foolishly and

       "Ille sinistrorsum, hic dextrorsum, unus utrique
        Error, sed variis illudit partibus omnes."

       "One reels to this, another to that wall,
        'Tis the same error that deludes them all."

[223]They dote all, but not alike, [Greek: Mania gar pasin homoia], not in
the same kind, "One is covetous, a second lascivious, a third ambitious, a
fourth envious," &c. as Damasippus the Stoic hath well illustrated in the

[224]  "Desipiunt omnes aeque ac tu."

       "And they who call you fool, with equal claim
        May plead an ample title to the name."

'Tis an inbred malady in every one of us, there is _seminarium stultitiae_,
a seminary of folly, "which if it be stirred up, or get ahead, will run _in
infinitum_, and infinitely varies, as we ourselves are severally addicted,"
saith [225]Balthazar Castilio: and cannot so easily be rooted out, it takes
such fast hold, as Tully holds, _altae radices stultitiae_, [226]so we are
bred, and so we continue. Some say there be two main defects of wit, error
and ignorance, to which all others are reduced; by ignorance we know not
things necessary, by error we know them falsely. Ignorance is a privation,
error a positive act. From ignorance comes vice, from error heresy, &c. But
make how many kinds you will, divide and subdivide, few men are free, or
that do not impinge on some one kind or other. [227]_Sic plerumque agitat
stultos inscitia_, as he that examines his own and other men's actions
shall find.

[228]Charon in Lucian, as he wittily feigns, was conducted by Mercury to
such a place, where he might see all the world at once; after he had
sufficiently viewed, and looked about, Mercury would needs know of him what
he had observed: He told him that he saw a vast multitude and a
promiscuous, their habitations like molehills, the men as emmets, "he could
discern cities like so many hives of bees, wherein every bee had a sting,
and they did nought else but sting one another, some domineering like
hornets bigger than the rest, some like filching wasps, others as drones."
Over their heads were hovering a confused company of perturbations, hope,
fear, anger, avarice, ignorance, &c., and a multitude of diseases hanging,
which they still pulled on their pates. Some were brawling, some fighting,
riding, running, _sollicite ambientes, callide litigantes_ for toys and
trifles, and such momentary things, Their towns and provinces mere
factions, rich against poor, poor against rich, nobles against artificers,
they against nobles, and so the rest. In conclusion, he condemned them all
for madmen, fools, idiots, asses, _O stulti, quaenam haec est amentia_? O
fools, O madmen, he exclaims, _insana studia, insani labores_, &c. Mad
endeavours, mad actions, mad, mad, mad, [229]_O saeclum insipiens et
infacetum_, a giddy-headed age. Heraclitus the philosopher, out of a
serious meditation of men's lives, fell a weeping, and with continual tears
bewailed their misery, madness, and folly. Democritus on the other side,
burst out a laughing, their whole life seemed to him so ridiculous, and he
was so far carried with this ironical passion, that the citizens of Abdera
took him to be mad, and sent therefore ambassadors to Hippocrates, the
physician, that he would exercise his skill upon him. But the story is set
down at large by Hippocrates, in his epistle to Damogetus, which because it
is not impertinent to this discourse, I will insert verbatim almost as it
is delivered by Hippocrates himself, with all the circumstances belonging
unto it.

When Hippocrates was now come to Abdera, the people of the city came
flocking about him, some weeping, some intreating of him, that he would do
his best. After some little repast, he went to see Democritus, the people
following him, whom he found (as before) in his garden in the suburbs all
alone, [230]"sitting upon a stone under a plane tree, without hose or
shoes, with a book on his knees, cutting up several beasts, and busy at his
study." The multitude stood gazing round about to see the congress.
Hippocrates, after a little pause, saluted him by his name, whom he
resaluted, ashamed almost that he could not call him likewise by his, or
that he had forgot it. Hippocrates demanded of him what he was doing: he
told him that he was [231]"busy in cutting up several beasts, to find out
the cause of madness and melancholy." Hippocrates commended his work,
admiring his happiness and leisure. And why, quoth Democritus, have not you
that leisure? Because, replied Hippocrates, domestic affairs hinder,
necessary to be done for ourselves, neighbours, friends; expenses,
diseases, frailties and mortalities which happen; wife, children, servants,
and such business which deprive us of our time. At this speech Democritus
profusely laughed (his friends and the people standing by, weeping in the
mean time, and lamenting his madness). Hippocrates asked the reason why he
laughed. He told him, at the vanities and the fopperies of the time, to see
men so empty of all virtuous actions, to hunt so far after gold, having no
end of ambition; to take such infinite pains for a little glory, and to be
favoured of men; to make such deep mines into the earth for gold, and many
times to find nothing, with loss of their lives and fortunes. Some to love
dogs, others horses, some to desire to be obeyed in many provinces,[232]
and yet themselves will know no obedience. [233]Some to love their wives
dearly at first, and after a while to forsake and hate them; begetting
children, with much care and cost for their education, yet when they grow
to man's estate, [234]to despise, neglect, and leave them naked to the
world's mercy. [235]Do not these behaviours express their intolerable
folly? When men live in peace, they covet war, detesting quietness, [236]
deposing kings, and advancing others in their stead, murdering some men to
beget children of their wives. How many strange humours are in men! When
they are poor and needy, they seek riches, and when they have them, they do
not enjoy them, but hide them under ground, or else wastefully spend them.
O wise Hippocrates, I laugh at such things being done, but much more when
no good comes of them, and when they are done to so ill purpose. There is
no truth or justice found amongst them, for they daily plead one against
another, [237]the son against the father and the mother, brother against
brother, kindred and friends of the same quality; and all this for riches,
whereof after death they cannot be possessors. And yet notwithstanding they
will defame and kill one another, commit all unlawful actions, contemning
God and men, friends and country. They make great account of many senseless
things, esteeming them as a great part of their treasure, statues,
pictures, and such like movables, dear bought, and so cunningly wrought, as
nothing but speech wanteth in them, [238]and yet they hate living persons
speaking to them. [239]Others affect difficult things; if they dwell on
firm land they will remove to an island, and thence to land again, being no
way constant to their desires. They commend courage and strength in wars,
and let themselves be conquered by lust and avarice; they are, in brief, as
disordered in their minds, as Thersites was in his body. And now, methinks,
O most worthy Hippocrates, you should not reprehend my laughing, perceiving
so many fooleries in men; [240]for no man will mock his own folly, but that
which he seeth in a second, and so they justly mock one another. The
drunkard calls him a glutton whom he knows to be sober. Many men love the
sea, others husbandry; briefly, they cannot agree in their own trades and
professions, much less in their lives and actions.

When Hippocrates heard these words so readily uttered, without
premeditation, to declare the world's vanity, full of ridiculous
contrariety, he made answer, that necessity compelled men to many such
actions, and divers wills ensuing from divine permission, that we might not
be idle, being nothing is so odious to them as sloth and negligence.
Besides, men cannot foresee future events, in this uncertainty of human
affairs; they would not so marry, if they could foretell the causes of
their dislike and separation; or parents, if they knew the hour of their
children's death, so tenderly provide for them; or an husbandman sow, if he
thought there would be no increase; or a merchant adventure to sea, if he
foresaw shipwreck; or be a magistrate, if presently to be deposed. Alas,
worthy Democritus, every man hopes the best, and to that end he doth it,
and therefore no such cause, or ridiculous occasion of laughter.

Democritus hearing this poor excuse, laughed again aloud, perceiving he
wholly mistook him, and did not well understand what he had said concerning
perturbations and tranquillity of the mind. Insomuch, that if men would
govern their actions by discretion and providence, they would not declare
themselves fools as now they do, and he should have no cause of laughter;
but (quoth he) they swell in this life as if they were immortal, and
demigods, for want of understanding. It were enough to make them wise, if
they would but consider the mutability of this world, and how it wheels
about, nothing being firm and sure. He that is now above, tomorrow is
beneath; he that sate on this side today, tomorrow is hurled on the other:
and not considering these matters, they fall into many inconveniences and
troubles, coveting things of no profit, and thirsting after them, tumbling
headlong into many calamities. So that if men would attempt no more than
what they can bear, they should lead contented lives, and learning to know
themselves, would limit their ambition, [241]they would perceive then that
nature hath enough without seeking such superfluities, and unprofitable
things, which bring nothing with them but grief and molestation. As a fat
body is more subject to diseases, so are rich men to absurdities and
fooleries, to many casualties and cross inconveniences. There are many that
take no heed what happeneth to others by bad conversation, and therefore
overthrow themselves in the same manner through their own fault, not
foreseeing dangers manifest. These are things (O more than mad, quoth he)
that give me matter of laughter, by suffering the pains of your impieties,
as your avarice, envy, malice, enormous villainies, mutinies, unsatiable
desires, conspiracies, and other incurable vices; besides your
[242]dissimulation and hypocrisy, bearing deadly hatred one to the other,
and yet shadowing it with a good face, flying out into all filthy lusts,
and transgressions of all laws, both of nature and civility. Many things
which they have left off, after a while they fall to again, husbandry,
navigation; and leave again, fickle and inconstant as they are. When they
are young, they would be old, and old, young. [243] Princes commend a
private life; private men itch after honour: a magistrate commends a quiet
life; a quiet man would be in his office, and obeyed as he is: and what is
the cause of all this, but that they know not themselves? Some delight to
destroy, [244]one to build, another to spoil one country to enrich another
and himself. [245]In all these things they are like children, in whom is no
judgment or counsel and resemble beasts, saving that beasts are better than
they, as being contented with nature. [246] When shall you see a lion hide
gold in the ground, or a bull contend for better pasture? When a boar is
thirsty, he drinks what will serve him, and no more; and when his belly is
full, ceaseth to eat: but men are immoderate in both, as in lust--they
covet carnal copulation at set times; men always, ruinating thereby the
health of their bodies. And doth it not deserve laughter to see an amorous
fool torment himself for a wench; weep, howl for a misshapen slut, a dowdy
sometimes, that might have his choice of the finest beauties? Is there any
remedy for this in physic? I do anatomise and cut up these poor beasts,
[247]to see these distempers, vanities, and follies, yet such proof were
better made on man's body, if my kind nature would endure it: [248]who from
the hour of his birth is most miserable; weak, and sickly; when he sucks he
is guided by others, when he is grown great practiseth unhappiness [249]and
is sturdy, and when old, a child again, and repenteth him of his life past.
And here being interrupted by one that brought books, he fell to it again,
that all were mad, careless, stupid. To prove my former speeches, look into
courts, or private houses. [250]Judges give judgment according to their own
advantage, doing manifest wrong to poor innocents to please others.
Notaries alter sentences, and for money lose their deeds. Some make false
monies; others counterfeit false weights. Some abuse their parents, yea
corrupt their own sisters; others make long libels and pasquils, defaming
men of good life, and extol such as are lewd and vicious. Some rob one,
some another: [251]magistrates make laws against thieves, and are the
veriest thieves themselves. Some kill themselves, others despair, not
obtaining their desires. Some dance, sing, laugh, feast and banquet, whilst
others sigh, languish, mourn and lament, having neither meat, drink, nor
clothes. [252]Some prank up their bodies, and have their minds full of
execrable vices. Some trot about [253]to bear false witness, and say
anything for money; and though judges know of it, yet for a bribe they wink
at it, and suffer false contracts to prevail against equity. Women are all
day a dressing, to pleasure other men abroad, and go like sluts at home,
not caring to please their own husbands whom they should. Seeing men are so
fickle, so sottish, so intemperate, why should not I laugh at those to whom
[254]folly seems wisdom, will not be cured, and perceive it not?

It grew late: Hippocrates left him; and no sooner was he come away, but all
the citizens came about flocking, to know how he liked him. He told them in
brief, that notwithstanding those small neglects of his attire, body, diet,
[255]the world had not a wiser, a more learned, a more honest man, and they
were much deceived to say that he was mad.

Thus Democritus esteemed of the world in his time, and this was the cause
of his laughter: and good cause he had.

[256]  "Olim jure quidem, nunc plus Democrite ride;
          Quin rides? vita haec nunc mage ridicula est."

       "Democritus did well to laugh of old,
          Good cause he had, but now much more;
        This life of ours is more ridiculous
          Than that of his, or long before."

Never so much cause of laughter as now, never so many fools and madmen.
'Tis not one [257]Democritus will serve turn to laugh in these days; we
have now need of a "Democritus to laugh at Democritus;" one jester to flout
at another, one fool to fleer at another: a great stentorian Democritus, as
big as that Rhodian Colossus, For now, as [258]Salisburiensis said in his
time, _totus mundus histrionem agit_, the whole world plays the fool; we
have a new theatre, a new scene, a new comedy of errors, a new company of
personate actors, _volupiae sacra_ (as Calcagninus willingly feigns in his
Apologues) are celebrated all the world over, [259]where all the actors
were madmen and fools, and every hour changed habits, or took that which
came next. He that was a mariner today, is an apothecary tomorrow; a smith
one while, a philosopher another, _in his volupiae ludis_; a king now with
his crown, robes, sceptre, attendants, by and by drove a loaded ass before
him like a carter, &c. If Democritus were alive now, he should see strange
alterations, a new company of counterfeit vizards, whifflers, Cumane asses,
maskers, mummers, painted puppets, outsides, fantastic shadows, gulls,
monsters, giddy-heads, butterflies. And so many of them are indeed ([260]if
all be true that I have read). For when Jupiter and Juno's wedding was
solemnised of old, the gods were all invited to the feast, and many noble
men besides: Amongst the rest came Crysalus, a Persian prince, bravely
attended, rich in golden attires, in gay robes, with a majestical presence,
but otherwise an ass. The gods seeing him come in such pomp and state, rose
up to give him place, _ex habitu hominem metientes_; [261]but Jupiter
perceiving what he was, a light, fantastic, idle fellow, turned him and his
proud followers into butterflies: and so they continue still (for aught I
know to the contrary) roving about in pied coats, and are called
chrysalides by the wiser sort of men: that is, golden outsides, drones, and
flies, and things of no worth. Multitudes of such, &c.

[262]   ------"ubique invenies
        Stultos avaros, sycopliantas prodigos."

Many additions, much increase of madness, folly, vanity, should Democritus
observe, were he now to travel, or could get leave of Pluto to come see
fashions, as Charon did in Lucian to visit our cities of Moronia Pia, and
Moronia Felix: sure I think he would break the rim of his belly with
laughing. [263]_Si foret in terris rideret Democritus, seu_, &c.

A satirical Roman in his time, thought all vice, folly, and madness were
all at full sea, [264]_Omne in praecipiti vitium stetit._

[265]Josephus the historian taxeth his countrymen Jews for bragging of
their vices, publishing their follies, and that they did contend amongst
themselves who should be most notorious in villainies; but we flow higher
in madness, far beyond them,

[266]  "Mox daturi progeniem vitiosorem,"

       "And yet with crimes to us unknown,
        Our sons shall mark the coming age their own,"

and the latter end (you know whose oracle it is) is like to be worse. 'Tis
not to be denied, the world alters every day, _Ruunt urbes, regna
transferuntur, &c. variantur habitus, leges innovantur_, as [267]Petrarch
observes, we change language, habits, laws, customs, manners, but not
vices, not diseases, not the symptoms of folly and madness, they are still
the same. And as a river, we see, keeps the like name and place, but not
water, and yet ever runs, [268]_Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis
aevum_; our times and persons alter, vices are the same, and ever will be;
look how nightingales sang of old, cocks crowed, kine lowed, sheep bleated,
sparrows chirped, dogs barked, so they do still: we keep our madness still,
play the fools still, _nec dum finitus Orestes_; we are of the same humours
and inclinations as our predecessors were; you shall find us all alike,
much at one, we and our sons, _Et nati natorum, et qui nascuntur ab illis_.
And so shall our posterity continue to the last. But to speak of times

If Democritus were alive now, and should but see the superstition of our
age, our [269]religious madness, as [270]Meteran calls it, _Religiosam
insaniam_, so many professed Christians, yet so few imitators of Christ; so
much talk of religion, so much science, so little conscience; so much
knowledge, so many preachers, so little practice; such variety of sects,
such have and hold of all sides, [271]--_obvia signis Signa_, &c., such
absurd and ridiculous traditions and ceremonies: If he should meet a [272]
Capuchin, a Franciscan, a Pharisaical Jesuit, a man-serpent, a
shave-crowned Monk in his robes, a begging Friar, or, see their
three-crowned Sovereign Lord the Pope, poor Peter's successor, _servus
servorum Dei_, to depose kings with his foot, to tread on emperors' necks,
make them stand barefoot and barelegged at his gates, hold his bridle and
stirrup, &c. (O that Peter and Paul were alive to see this!) If he should
observe a [273]prince creep so devoutly to kiss his toe, and those red-cap
cardinals, poor parish priests of old, now princes' companions; what would
he say? _Coelum ipsum petitur stultitia_. Had he met some of our devout
pilgrims going barefoot to Jerusalem, our lady of Lauretto, Rome, S. Iago,
S. Thomas' Shrine, to creep to those counterfeit and maggot-eaten relics;
had he been present at a mass, and seen such kissing of paxes, crucifixes,
cringes, duckings, their several attires and ceremonies, pictures of
saints, [274]indulgences, pardons, vigils, fasting, feasts, crossing,
knocking, kneeling at Ave-Marias, bells, with many such; _--jucunda rudi
spectacula plebi_,[275] praying in gibberish, and mumbling of beads. Had he
heard an old woman say her prayers in Latin, their sprinkling of holy
water, and going a procession,

[276]   ------"incedunt monachorum agmina mille;
        Quid momerem vexilla, cruces, idolaque culta," &c.

Their breviaries, bulls, hallowed beans, exorcisms, pictures, curious
crosses, fables, and baubles. Had he read the Golden Legend, the Turks'
Alcoran, or Jews' Talmud, the Rabbins' Comments, what would he have
thought? How dost thou think he might have been affected? Had he more
particularly examined a Jesuit's life amongst the rest, he should have seen
an hypocrite profess poverty, [277]and yet possess more goods and lands
than many princes, to have infinite treasures and revenues; teach others to
fast, and play the gluttons themselves; like watermen that row one way and
look another. [278]Vow virginity, talk of holiness, and yet indeed a
notorious bawd, and famous fornicator, _lascivum pecus_, a very goat. Monks
by profession, [279]such as give over the world, and the vanities of it,
and yet a Machiavellian rout [280]interested in all manner of state: holy
men, peace-makers, and yet composed of envy, lust, ambition, hatred, and
malice; firebrands, _adulta patriae pestis_, traitors, assassinats, _hac
itur ad astra_, and this is to supererogate, and merit heaven for
themselves and others. Had he seen on the adverse side, some of our nice
and curious schismatics in another extreme, abhor all ceremonies, and
rather lose their lives and livings, than do or admit anything Papists have
formerly used, though in things indifferent (they alone are the true
Church, _sal terrae, cum sint omnium insulsissimi_). Formalists, out of
fear and base flattery, like so many weather-cocks turn round, a rout of
temporisers, ready to embrace and maintain all that is or shall be proposed
in hope of preferment: another Epicurean company, lying at lurch as so many
vultures, watching for a prey of Church goods, and ready to rise by the
downfall of any: as [281]Lucian said in like case, what dost thou think
Democritus would have done, had he been spectator of these things?

Or had he but observed the common people follow like so many sheep one of
their fellows drawn by the horns over a gap, some for zeal, some for fear,
_quo se cunque rapit tempestas_, to credit all, examine nothing, and yet
ready to die before they will adjure any of those ceremonies to which they
have been accustomed; others out of hypocrisy frequent sermons, knock their
breasts, turn up their eyes, pretend zeal, desire reformation, and yet
professed usurers, gripers, monsters of men, harpies, devils in their
lives, to express nothing less.

What would he have said to see, hear, and read so many bloody battles, so
many thousands slain at once, such streams of blood able to turn mills:
_unius ob noxam furiasque_, or to make sport for princes, without any just
cause, [282]"for vain titles" (saith Austin), "precedency, some wench, or
such like toy, or out of desire of domineering, vainglory, malice, revenge,
folly, madness," (goodly causes all, _ob quas universus orbis bellis et
caedibus misceatur_,) whilst statesmen themselves in the mean time are
secure at home, pampered with all delights and pleasures, take their ease,
and follow their lusts, not considering what intolerable misery poor
soldiers endure, their often wounds, hunger, thirst, &c., the lamentable
cares, torments, calamities, and oppressions that accompany such
proceedings, they feel not, take no notice of it. "So wars are begun, by
the persuasion of a few debauched, hair-brain, poor, dissolute, hungry
captains, parasitical fawners, unquiet hotspurs, restless innovators, green
heads, to satisfy one man's private spleen, lust, ambition, avarice," &c.;
_tales rapiunt scelerata in praelia causae. Flos hominum_, proper men, well
proportioned, carefully brought up, able both in body and mind, sound, led
like so many [283]beasts to the slaughter in the flower of their years,
pride, and full strength, without all remorse and pity, sacrificed to
Pluto, killed up as so many sheep, for devils' food, 40,000 at once. At
once, said I, that were tolerable, but these wars last always, and for many
ages; nothing so familiar as this hacking and hewing, massacres, murders,
desolations--_ignoto coelum clangore remugit_, they care not what mischief
they procure, so that they may enrich themselves for the present; they will
so long blow the coals of contention, till all the world be consumed with
fire. The [284]siege of Troy lasted ten years, eight months, there died
870,000 Grecians, 670,000 Trojans, at the taking of the city, and after
were slain 276,000 men, women, and children of all sorts. Caesar killed a
million, [285]Mahomet the second Turk, 300,000 persons; Sicinius Dentatus
fought in a hundred battles, eight times in single combat he overcame, had
forty wounds before, was rewarded with 140 crowns, triumphed nine times for
his good service. M. Sergius had 32 wounds; Scaeva, the Centurion, I know
not how many; every nation had their Hectors, Scipios, Caesars, and
Alexanders! Our [286]Edward the Fourth was in 26 battles afoot: and as they
do all, he glories in it, 'tis related to his honour. At the siege of
Hierusalem, 1,100,000 died with sword and famine. At the battle of Cannas,
70,000 men were slain, as [287]Polybius records, and as many at Battle
Abbey with us; and 'tis no news to fight from sun to sun, as they did, as
Constantine and Licinius, &c. At the siege of Ostend (the devil's academy)
a poor town in respect, a small fort, but a great grave, 120,000 men lost
their lives, besides whole towns, dorps, and hospitals, full of maimed
soldiers; there were engines, fireworks, and whatsoever the devil could
invent to do mischief with 2,500,000 iron bullets shot of 40 pounds weight,
three or four millions of gold consumed. [288]"Who" (saith mine author)
"can be sufficiently amazed at their flinty hearts, obstinacy, fury,
blindness, who without any likelihood of good success, hazard poor
soldiers, and lead them without pity to the slaughter, which may justly be
called the rage of furious beasts, that run without reason upon their own
deaths:" [289]_quis malus genius, quae furia quae pestis_, &c.; what
plague, what fury brought so devilish, so brutish a thing as war first into
men's minds? Who made so soft and peaceable a creature, born to love,
mercy, meekness, so to rave, rage like beasts, and run on to their own
destruction? how may Nature expostulate with mankind, _Ego te divinum
animal finxi_, &c.? I made thee an harmless, quiet, a divine creature: how
may God expostulate, and all good men? yet, _horum facta_ (as [290]one
condoles) _tantum admirantur, et heroum numero habent_: these are the brave
spirits, the gallants of the world, these admired alone, triumph alone,
have statues, crowns, pyramids, obelisks to their eternal fame, that
immortal genius attends on them, _hac itur ad astra_. When Rhodes was
besieged, [291]_fossae urbis cadaveribus repletae sunt_, the ditches were
full of dead carcases: and as when the said Suleiman, great Turk,
beleaguered Vienna, they lay level with the top of the walls. This they
make a sport of, and will do it to their friends and confederates, against
oaths, vows, promises, by treachery or otherwise; [292]--_dolus an virtus?
quis in hoste requirat_? leagues and laws of arms, ([293]_silent leges
inter arma_,) for their advantage, _omnia jura, divina, humana, proculcata
plerumque sunt_; God's and men's laws are trampled under foot, the sword
alone determines all; to satisfy their lust and spleen, they care not what
they attempt, say, or do, [294]_Rara fides, probitasque viris qui castra
sequuntur._ Nothing so common as to have [295] "father fight against the
son, brother against brother, kinsman against kinsman, kingdom against
kingdom, province against province, Christians against Christians:" _a
quibus nec unquam cogitatione fuerunt laesi_, of whom they never had
offence in thought, word, or deed. Infinite treasures consumed, towns
burned, flourishing cities sacked and ruinated, _quodque animus meminisse
horret_, goodly countries depopulated and left desolate, old inhabitants
expelled, trade and traffic decayed, maids deflowered, _Virgines nondum
thalamis jugatae, et comis nondum positis ephaebi_; chaste matrons cry out
with Andromache, [296]_Concubitum mox cogar pati ejus, qui interemit
Hectorem_, they shall be compelled peradventure to lie with them that erst
killed their husbands: to see rich, poor, sick, sound, lords, servants,
_eodem omnes incommodo macti_, consumed all or maimed, &c. _Et quicquid
gaudens scelere animus audet, et perversa mens_, saith Cyprian, and
whatsoever torment, misery, mischief, hell itself, the devil, [297] fury
and rage can invent to their own ruin and destruction; so abominable a
thing is [298]war, as Gerbelius concludes, _adeo foeda et abominanda res
est bellum, ex quo hominum caedes, vastationes_, &c., the scourge of God,
cause, effect, fruit and punishment of sin, and not _tonsura humani
generis_ as Tertullian calls it, but _ruina_. Had Democritus been present
at the late civil wars in France, those abominable wars--_bellaque matribus
detestata_, [299]"where in less than ten years, ten thousand men were
consumed," saith Collignius, twenty thousand churches overthrown; nay, the
whole kingdom subverted (as [300]Richard Dinoth adds). So many myriads of
the commons were butchered up, with sword, famine, war, _tanto odio
utrinque ut barbari ad abhorrendam lanienam obstupescerent_, with such
feral hatred, the world was amazed at it: or at our late Pharsalian fields
in the time of Henry the Sixth, betwixt the houses of Lancaster and York, a
hundred thousand men slain, [301]one writes; [302]another, ten thousand
families were rooted out, "that no man can but marvel," saith Comineus, "at
that barbarous immanity, feral madness, committed betwixt men of the same
nation, language, and religion." [303]_Quis furor, O cives_? "Why do the
Gentiles so furiously rage," saith the Prophet David, Psal. ii. 1. But we
may ask, why do the Christians so furiously rage? [304]_Arma volunt, quare
poscunt, rapiuntque juventus_? Unfit for Gentiles, much less for us so to
tyrannise, as the Spaniard in the West Indies, that killed up in 42 years
(if we may believe [305]Bartholomeus a Casa, their own bishop) 12 millions
of men, with stupend and exquisite torments; neither should I lie (said he)
if I said 50 millions. I omit those French massacres, Sicilian evensongs,
[306]the Duke of Alva's tyrannies, our gunpowder machinations, and that
fourth fury, as [307]one calls it, the Spanish inquisition, which quite
obscures those ten persecutions, [308]------_saevit toto Mars impius orbe._
Is not this [309]_mundus furiosus_, a mad world, as he terms it, _insanum
bellum_? are not these mad men, as [310]Scaliger concludes, _qui in praelio
acerba morte, insaniae, suae memoriam pro perpetuo teste relinquunt
posteritati_; which leave so frequent battles, as perpetual memorials of
their madness to all succeeding ages? Would this, think you, have enforced
our Democritus to laughter, or rather made him turn his tune, alter his
tone, and weep with [311]Heraclitus, or rather howl, [312]roar, and tear
his hair in commiseration, stand amazed; or as the poets feign, that Niobe
was for grief quite stupefied, and turned to a stone? I have not yet said
the worst, that which is more absurd and [313]mad, in their tumults,
seditions, civil and unjust wars, [314]_quod stulte sucipitur, impie
geritur, misere finitur_. Such wars I mean; for all are not to be
condemned, as those fantastical Anabaptists vainly conceive. Our Christian
tactics are all out as necessary as the Roman acies, or Grecian phalanx, to
be a soldier is a most noble and honourable profession (as the world is),
not to be spared, they are our best walls and bulwarks, and I do therefore
acknowledge that of [315]Tully to be most true, "All our civil affairs, all
our studies, all our pleading, industry, and commendation lies under the
protection of warlike virtues, and whensoever there is any suspicion of
tumult, all our arts cease;" wars are most behoveful, _et bellatores
agricolis civitati sunt utiliores_, as [316]Tyrius defends: and valour is
much to be commended in a wise man; but they mistake most part, _auferre,
trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus virtutem vocant_, &c. ('Twas Galgacus'
observation in Tacitus) they term theft, murder, and rapine, virtue, by a
wrong name, rapes, slaughters, massacres, &c. _jocus et ludus_, are pretty
pastimes, as Ludovicus Vives notes. [317]"They commonly call the most
hair-brain bloodsuckers, strongest thieves, the most desperate villains,
treacherous rogues, inhuman murderers, rash, cruel and dissolute caitiffs,
courageous and generous spirits, heroical and worthy captains, [318]brave
men at arms, valiant and renowned soldiers, possessed with a brute
persuasion of false honour," as Pontus Huter in his Burgundian history
complains. By means of which it comes to pass that daily so many
voluntaries offer themselves, leaving their sweet wives, children, friends,
for sixpence (if they can get it) a day, prostitute their lives and limbs,
desire to enter upon breaches, lie sentinel, perdu, give the first onset,
stand in the fore front of the battle, marching bravely on, with a cheerful
noise of drums and trumpets, such vigour and alacrity, so many banners
streaming in the air, glittering armours, motions of plumes, woods of
pikes, and swords, variety of colours, cost and magnificence, as if they
went in triumph, now victors to the Capitol, and with such pomp, as when
Darius' army marched to meet Alexander at Issus. Void of all fear they run
into imminent dangers, cannon's mouth, &c., _ut vulneribus suis ferrum
hostium hebetent_, saith [319]Barletius, to get a name of valour, humour
and applause, which lasts not either, for it is but a mere flash this fame,
and like a rose, _intra diem unum extinguitur_, 'tis gone in an instant. Of
15,000 proletaries slain in a battle, scarce fifteen are recorded in
history, or one alone, the General perhaps, and after a while his and their
names are likewise blotted out, the whole battle itself is forgotten. Those
Grecian orators, _summa vi ingenii et eloquentiae_, set out the renowned
overthrows at Thermopylae, Salamis, Marathon, Micale, Mantinea, Cheronaea,
Plataea. The Romans record their battle at Cannas, and Pharsalian fields,
but they do but record, and we scarce hear of them. And yet this supposed
honour, popular applause, desire of immortality by this means, pride and
vainglory spur them on many times rashly and unadvisedly, to make away
themselves and multitudes of others. Alexander was sorry, because there
were no more worlds for him to conquer, he is admired by some for it,
_animosa vox videtur, et regia_, 'twas spoken like a Prince; but as wise
[320]Seneca censures him, 'twas _vox inquissima et stultissima_, 'twas
spoken like a Bedlam fool; and that sentence which the same [321]Seneca
appropriates to his father Philip and him, I apply to them all, _Non
minores fuere pestes mortalium quam inundatio, quam conflagratio, quibus_,
&c. they did as much mischief to mortal men as fire and water, those
merciless elements when they rage. [322]Which is yet more to be lamented,
they persuade them this hellish course of life is holy, they promise heaven
to such as venture their lives _bello sacro_, and that by these bloody
wars, as Persians, Greeks, and Romans of old, as modern Turks do now their
commons, to encourage them to fight, _ut cadant infeliciter_. "If they die
in the field, they go directly to heaven, and shall be canonised for
saints." (O diabolical invention!) put in the Chronicles, _in perpetuam rei
memoriam_, to their eternal memory: when as in truth, as [323]some hold, it
were much better (since wars are the scourge of God for sin, by which he
punisheth mortal men's peevishness and folly) such brutish stories were
suppressed, because _ad morum institutionem nihil habent_, they conduce not
at all to manners, or good life. But they will have it thus nevertheless,
and so they put note of [324]"divinity upon the most cruel and pernicious
plague of human kind," adore such men with grand titles, degrees, statues,
images, [325]honour, applaud, and highly reward them for their good
service, no greater glory than to die in the field. So Africanus is
extolled by Ennius: Mars, and [326]Hercules, and I know not how many
besides of old, were deified; went this way to heaven, that were indeed
bloody butchers, wicked destroyers, and troublers of the world, prodigious
monsters, hell-hounds, feral plagues, devourers, common executioners of
human kind, as Lactantius truly proves, and Cyprian to Donat, such as were
desperate in wars, and precipitately made away themselves, (like those
Celts in Damascen, with ridiculous valour, _ut dedecorosum putarent muro
ruenti se subducere_, a disgrace to run away for a rotten wall, now ready
to fall on their heads,) such as will not rush on a sword's point, or seek
to shun a cannon's shot, are base cowards, and no valiant men. By which
means, _Madet orbis mutuo sanguine_, the earth wallows in her own blood,

[327]_Savit amor ferri et scelerati insania belli_; and for that, which if
it be done in private, a man shall be rigorously executed, [328]"and which
is no less than murder itself; if the same fact be done in public in wars,
it is called manhood, and the party is honoured for it."

[329]   ------"Prosperum et felix scelus,
        Virtus vocatur."------

We measure all as Turks do, by the event, and most part, as Cyprian notes,
in all ages, countries, places, _saevitiae magnitudo impunitatem sceleris
acquirit_; the foulness of the fact vindicates the offender. [330]One is
crowned for that which another is tormented: _Ille crucem sceleris precium
tulit, hic diadema_; made a knight, a lord, an earl, a great duke, (as
[331]Agrippa notes) for that which another should have hung in gibbets, as
a terror to the rest,

[332]   ------"et tamen alter,
        Si fecisset idem, caderet sub judice morum."

A poor sheep-stealer is hanged for stealing of victuals, compelled
peradventure by necessity of that intolerable cold, hunger, and thirst, to
save himself from starving: but a [333]great man in office may securely rob
whole provinces, undo thousands, pill and poll, oppress _ad libitum_, flea,
grind, tyrannise, enrich himself by spoils of the commons, be
uncontrollable in his actions, and after all, be recompensed with turgent
titles, honoured for his good service, and no man dare find fault, or [334]
mutter at it.

How would our Democritus have been affected to see a wicked caitiff or
[335]"fool, a very idiot, a funge, a golden ass, a monster of men, to have
many good men, wise, men, learned men to attend upon him with all
submission, as an appendix to his riches, for that respect alone, because
he hath more wealth and money," [336]"to honour him with divine titles, and
bombast epithets," to smother him with fumes and eulogies, whom they know
to be a dizzard, a fool, a covetous wretch, a beast, &c. "because he is
rich?" To see _sub exuviis leonis onagrum_, a filthy loathsome carcass, a
Gorgon's head puffed up by parasites, assume this unto himself, glorious
titles, in worth an infant, a Cuman ass, a painted sepulchre, an Egyptian
temple? To see a withered face, a diseased, deformed, cankered complexion,
a rotten carcass, a viperous mind, and Epicurean soul set out with orient
pearls, jewels, diadems, perfumes, curious elaborate works, as proud of his
clothes as a child of his new coats; and a goodly person, of an angel-like
divine countenance, a saint, an humble mind, a meet spirit clothed in rags,
beg, and now ready to be starved? To see a silly contemptible sloven in
apparel, ragged in his coat, polite in speech, of a divine spirit, wise?
another neat in clothes, spruce, full of courtesy, empty of grace, wit,
talk nonsense?

To see so many lawyers, advocates, so many tribunals, so little justice; so
many magistrates, so little care of common good; so many laws, yet never
more disorders; _Tribunal litium segetem_, the Tribunal a labyrinth, so
many thousand suits in one court sometimes, so violently followed? To see
_injustissimum saepe juri praesidentem, impium religioni, imperitissimum
eruditioni, otiosissimum labori, monstrosum humanitati_? to see a lamb
[337]executed, a wolf pronounce sentence, _latro_ arraigned, and _fur_ sit
on the bench, the judge severely punish others, and do worse himself, [338]
_cundem furtum facere et punire_, [339]_rapinam plectere, quum sit ipse
raptor_? Laws altered, misconstrued, interpreted pro and con, as the
[340]judge is made by friends, bribed, or otherwise affected as a nose of
wax, good today, none tomorrow; or firm in his opinion, cast in his?
Sentence prolonged, changed, _ad arbitrium judicis_, still the same case,
[341]"one thrust out of his inheritance, another falsely put in by favour,
false forged deeds or wills." _Incisae leges negliguntur_, laws are made
and not kept; or if put in execution, [342]they be some silly ones that are
punished. As, put case it be fornication, the father will disinherit or
abdicate his child, quite cashier him (out, villain, be gone, come no more
in my sight); a poor man is miserably tormented with loss of his estate
perhaps, goods, fortunes, good name, for ever disgraced, forsaken, and must
do penance to the utmost; a mortal sin, and yet make the worst of it,
_nunquid aliud fecit_, saith Tranio in the [343]poet, _nisi quod faciunt
summis nati generibus_? he hath done no more than what gentlemen usually
do. [344]_Neque novum, neque mirum, neque secus quam alii solent_. For in a
great person, right worshipful Sir, a right honourable grandee, 'tis not a
venial sin, no, not a peccadillo, 'tis no offence at all, a common and
ordinary thing, no man takes notice of it; he justifies it in public, and
peradventure brags of it,

[345]  "Nam quod turpe bonis, Titio, Seioque, decebat Crispinum"------

       "For what would be base in good men, Titius, and Seius, became

[346]Many poor men, younger brothers, &c. by reason of bad policy and idle
education (for they are likely brought up in no calling), are compelled to
beg or steal, and then hanged for theft; than which, what can be more
ignominious, _non minus enim turpe principi multa supplicia, quam medico
multa funera_, 'tis the governor's fault. _Libentius verberant quam
docent_, as schoolmasters do rather correct their pupils, than teach them
when they do amiss. [347]"They had more need provide there should be no
more thieves and beggars, as they ought with good policy, and take away the
occasions, than let them run on, as they do to their own destruction: root
out likewise those causes of wrangling, a multitude of lawyers, and compose
controversies, _lites lustrales et seculares_, by some more compendious
means." Whereas now for every toy and trifle they go to law, [348]_Mugit
litibus insanum forum, et saevit invicem discordantium rabies_, they are
ready to pull out one another's throats; and for commodity [349]"to squeeze
blood," saith Hierom, "out of their brother's heart," defame, lie,
disgrace, backbite, rail, bear false witness, swear, forswear, fight and
wrangle, spend their goods, lives, fortunes, friends, undo one another, to
enrich an harpy advocate, that preys upon them both, and cries _Eia
Socrates, Eia Xantippe_; or some corrupt judge, that like the [350]kite in
Aesop, while the mouse and frog fought, carried both away. Generally they
prey one upon another as so many ravenous birds, brute beasts, devouring
fishes, no medium, [351]_omnes hic aut captantur aut captant; aut cadavera
quae lacerantur, aut corvi qui lacerant_, either deceive or be deceived;
tear others or be torn in pieces themselves; like so many buckets in a
well, as one riseth another falleth, one's empty, another's full; his ruin
is a ladder to the third; such are our ordinary proceedings. What's the
market? A place, according to [352]Anacharsis, wherein they cozen one
another, a trap; nay, what's the world itself? [353]A vast chaos, a
confusion of manners, as fickle as the air, _domicilium insanorum_, a
turbulent troop full of impurities, a mart of walking spirits, goblins, the
theatre of hypocrisy, a shop of knavery, flattery, a nursery of villainy,
the scene of babbling, the school of giddiness, the academy of vice; a
warfare, _ubi velis nolis pugnandum, aut vincas aut succumbas_, in which
kill or be killed; wherein every man is for himself, his private ends, and
stands upon his own guard. No charity, [354]love, friendship, fear of God,
alliance, affinity, consanguinity, Christianity, can contain them, but if
they be any ways offended, or that string of commodity be touched, they
fall foul. Old friends become bitter enemies on a sudden for toys and small
offences, and they that erst were willing to do all mutual offices of love
and kindness, now revile and persecute one another to death, with more than
Vatinian hatred, and will not be reconciled. So long as they are behoveful,
they love, or may bestead each other, but when there is no more good to be
expected, as they do by an old dog, hang him up or cashier him: which [355]
Cato counts a great indecorum, to use men like old shoes or broken glasses,
which are flung to the dunghill; he could not find in his heart to sell an
old ox, much less to turn away an old servant: but they instead of
recompense, revile him, and when they have made him an instrument of their
villainy, as [356]Bajazet the second Emperor of the Turks did by Acomethes
Bassa, make him away, or instead of [357]reward, hate him to death, as
Silius was served by Tiberius. In a word, every man for his own ends. Our
_summum bonum_ is commodity, and the goddess we adore _Dea moneta_, Queen
money, to whom we daily offer sacrifice, which steers our hearts, hands,
[358]affections, all: that most powerful goddess, by whom we are reared,
depressed, elevated, [359]esteemed the sole commandress of our actions, for
which we pray, run, ride, go, come, labour, and contend as fishes do for a
crumb that falleth into the water. It's not worth, virtue, (that's _bonum
theatrale_,) wisdom, valour, learning, honesty, religion, or any
sufficiency for which we are respected, but [360]money, greatness, office,
honour, authority; honesty is accounted folly; knavery, policy; [361]men
admired out of opinion, not as they are, but as they seem to be: such
shifting, lying, cogging, plotting, counterplotting, temporizing,
nattering, cozening, dissembling, [362]"that of necessity one must highly
offend God if he be conformable to the world, _Cretizare cum Crete_, or
else live in contempt, disgrace and misery." One takes upon him temperance,
holiness, another austerity, a third an affected kind of simplicity, when
as indeed, he, and he, and he, and the rest are [363]"hypocrites,
ambidexters," outsides, so many turning pictures, a lion on the one side,
a lamb on the other. [364]How would Democritus have been affected to see
these things!

To see a man turn himself into all shapes like a chameleon, or as Proteus,
_omnia transformans sese in miracula rerum_, to act twenty parts and
persons at once, for his advantage, to temporise and vary like Mercury the
planet, good with good; bad with bad; having a several face, garb, and
character for every one he meets; of all religions, humours, inclinations;
to fawn like a spaniel, _mentitis et mimicis obsequis_; rage like a lion,
bark like a cur, fight like a dragon, sting like a serpent, as meek as a
lamb, and yet again grin like a tiger, weep like a crocodile, insult over
some, and yet others domineer over him, here command, there crouch,
tyrannise in one place, be baffled in another, a wise man at home, a fool
abroad to make others merry.

To see so much difference betwixt words and deeds, so many parasangs
betwixt tongue and heart, men like stage-players act variety of parts,
[365]give good precepts to others, soar aloft, whilst they themselves
grovel on the ground.

To see a man protest friendship, kiss his hand, [366]_quem mallet truncatum
videre_, [367]smile with an intent to do mischief, or cozen him whom he
salutes, [368]magnify his friend unworthy with hyperbolical eulogiums; his
enemy albeit a good man, to vilify and disgrace him, yea all his actions,
with the utmost that livor and malice can invent.

To see a [369]servant able to buy out his master, him that carries the mace
more worth than the magistrate, which Plato, _lib. 11, de leg._, absolutely
forbids, Epictetus abhors. A horse that tills the [370]land fed with chaff,
an idle jade have provender in abundance; him that makes shoes go barefoot
himself, him that sells meat almost pined; a toiling drudge starve, a drone

To see men buy smoke for wares, castles built with fools' heads, men like
apes follow the fashions in tires, gestures, actions: if the king laugh,
all laugh;

[371]  "Rides? majore chachiano
        Concutitur, flet si lachrymas conspexit amici."

[372]Alexander stooped, so did his courtiers; Alphonsus turned his head,
and so did his parasites. [373]Sabina Poppea, Nero's wife, wore
amber-coloured hair, so did all the Roman ladies in an instant, her fashion
was theirs.

To see men wholly led by affection, admired and censured out of opinion
without judgment: an inconsiderate multitude, like so many dogs in a
village, if one bark all bark without a cause: as fortune's fan turns, if a
man be in favour, or commanded by some great one, all the world applauds
him; [374]if in disgrace, in an instant all hate him, and as at the sun
when he is eclipsed, that erst took no notice, now gaze and stare upon him.

To see a man [375]wear his brains in his belly, his guts in his head, an
hundred oaks on his back, to devour a hundred oxen at a meal, nay more, to
devour houses and towns, or as those Anthropophagi, [376]to eat one

To see a man roll himself up like a snowball, from base beggary to right
worshipful and right honourable titles, unjustly to screw himself into
honours and offices; another to starve his genius, damn his soul to gather
wealth, which he shall not enjoy, which his prodigal son melts and consumes
in an instant. [377]

To see the [Greek: kakozaelian] of our times, a man bend all his forces,
means, time, fortunes, to be a favorite's favorite's favorite, &c., a
parasite's parasite's parasite, that may scorn the servile world as having
enough already.

To see an hirsute beggar's brat, that lately fed on scraps, crept and
whined, crying to all, and for an old jerkin ran of errands, now ruffle in
silk and satin, bravely mounted, jovial and polite, now scorn his old
friends and familiars, neglect his kindred, insult over his betters,
domineer over all.

To see a scholar crouch and creep to an illiterate peasant for a meal's
meat; a scrivener better paid for an obligation; a falconer receive greater
wages than a student; a lawyer get more in a day than a philosopher in a
year, better reward for an hour, than a scholar for a twelvemonth's study;
him that can [378]paint Thais, play on a fiddle, curl hair, &c., sooner get
preferment than a philologer or a poet.

To see a fond mother, like Aesop's ape, hug her child to death, a [379]
wittol wink at his wife's honesty, and too perspicuous in all other
affairs; one stumble at a straw, and leap over a block; rob Peter, and pay
Paul; scrape unjust sums with one hand, purchase great manors by
corruption, fraud and cozenage, and liberally to distribute to the poor
with the other, give a remnant to pious uses, &c. Penny wise, pound
foolish; blind men judge of colours; wise men silent, fools talk; [380]
find fault with others, and do worse themselves; [381]denounce that in
public which he doth in secret; and which Aurelius Victor gives out of
Augustus, severely censure that in a third, of which he is most guilty

To see a poor fellow, or an hired servant venture his life for his new
master that will scarce give him his wages at year's end; A country colon
toil and moil, till and drudge for a prodigal idle drone, that devours all
the gain, or lasciviously consumes with fantastical expenses; A noble man
in a bravado to encounter death, and for a small flash of honour to cast
away himself; A worldling tremble at an executor, and yet not fear
hell-fire; To wish and hope for immortality, desire to be happy, and yet by
all means avoid death, a necessary passage to bring him to it.

To see a foolhardy fellow like those old Danes, _qui decollari malunt quam
verberari_, die rather than be punished, in a sottish humour embrace death
with alacrity, yet [382]scorn to lament his own sins and miseries, or his
clearest friends' departures.

To see wise men degraded, fools preferred, one govern towns and cities, and
yet a silly woman overrules him at home; [383]Command a province, and yet
his own servants or children prescribe laws to him, as Themistocles' son
did in Greece; [384]"What I will" (said he) "my mother will, and what my
mother will, my father doth." To see horses ride in a coach, men draw it;
dogs devour their masters; towers build masons; children rule; old men go
to school; women wear the breeches; [385]sheep demolish towns, devour men,
&c. And in a word, the world turned upside downward. _O viveret

[386]To insist in every particular were one of Hercules' labours, there's
so many ridiculous instances, as motes in the sun. _Quantum est in rebus
inane_? (How much vanity there is in things!) And who can speak of all?
_Crimine ab uno disce omnes_, take this for a taste.

But these are obvious to sense, trivial and well known, easy to be
discerned. How would Democritus have been moved, had he seen [387]the
secrets of their hearts? If every man had a window in his breast, which
Momus would have had in Vulcan's man, or that which Tully so much wished it
were written in every man's forehead, _Quid quisque de republica sentiret_,
what he thought; or that it could be effected in an instant, which Mercury
did by Charon in Lucian, by touching of his eyes, to make him discern
_semel et simul rumores et susurros_.

       "Spes hominum caecas, morbos, votumque labores,
        Et passim toto volitantes aethere curas."

       "Blind hopes and wishes, their thoughts and affairs,
        Whispers and rumours, and those flying cares."

That he could _cubiculorum obductas foras recludere et secreta cordium
penetrare_, which [388]Cyprian desired, open doors and locks, shoot bolts,
as Lucian's Gallus did with a feather of his tail: or Gyges' invisible
ring, or some rare perspective glass, or _Otacousticon_, which would so
multiply species, that a man might hear and see all at once (as [389]
Martianus Capella's Jupiter did in a spear which he held in his hand, which
did present unto him all that was daily done upon the face of the earth),
observe cuckolds' horns, forgeries of alchemists, the philosopher's stone,
new projectors, &c., and all those works of darkness, foolish vows, hopes,
fears and wishes, what a deal of laughter would it have afforded? He should
have seen windmills in one man's head, an hornet's nest in another. Or had
he been present with Icaromenippus in Lucian at Jupiter's whispering place,
[390]and heard one pray for rain, another for fair weather; one for his
wife's, another for his father's death, &c.; "to ask that at God's hand
which they are abashed any man should hear:" How would he have been
confounded? Would he, think you, or any man else, say that these men were
well in their wits? _Haec sani esse hominis quis sanus juret Orestes_? Can
all the hellebore in the Anticyrae cure these men? No, sure, [391]"an acre
of hellebore will not do it."

That which is more to be lamented, they are mad like Seneca's blind woman,
and will not acknowledge, or [392]seek for any cure of it, for _pauci
vident morbum suum, omnes amant_. If our leg or arm offend us, we covet by
all means possible to redress it; [393]and if we labour of a bodily
disease, we send for a physician; but for the diseases of the mind we take
no notice of them: [394]Lust harrows us on the one side; envy, anger,
ambition on the other. We are torn in pieces by our passions, as so many
wild horses, one in disposition, another in habit; one is melancholy,
another mad; [395]and which of us all seeks for help, doth acknowledge his
error, or knows he is sick? As that stupid fellow put out the candle
because the biting fleas should not find him; he shrouds himself in an
unknown habit, borrowed titles, because nobody should discern him. Every
man thinks with himself, _Egomet videor mihi sanus_, I am well, I am wise,
and laughs at others. And 'tis a general fault amongst them all, that [396]
which our forefathers have approved, diet, apparel, opinions, humours,
customs, manners, we deride and reject in our time as absurd. Old men
account juniors all fools, when they are mere dizzards; and as to sailors,
------_terraeque urbesque recedunt_------ they move, the land stands still,
the world hath much more wit, they dote themselves. Turks deride us, we
them; Italians Frenchmen, accounting them light headed fellows, the French
scoff again at Italians, and at their several customs; Greeks have
condemned all the world but themselves of barbarism, the world as much
vilifies them now; we account Germans heavy, dull fellows, explode many of
their fashions; they as contemptibly think of us; Spaniards laugh at all,
and all again at them. So are we fools and ridiculous, absurd in our
actions, carriages, diet, apparel, customs, and consultations; we [397]
scoff and point one at another, when as in conclusion all are fools, [398]
"and they the veriest asses that hide their ears most." A private man if he
be resolved with himself, or set on an opinion, accounts all idiots and
asses that are not affected as he is, [399]------_nil rectum, nisi quod
placuit sibi, ducit_, that are not so minded, [400](_quodque volunt homines
se bene velle putant_,) all fools that think not as he doth: he will not
say with Atticus, _Suam quisque sponsam, mihi meam_, let every man enjoy
his own spouse; but his alone is fair, _suus amor_, &c. and scorns all in
respect of himself [401]will imitate none, hear none [402]but himself, as
Pliny said, a law and example to himself. And that which Hippocrates, in
his epistle to Dionysius, reprehended of old, is verified in our times,
_Quisque in alio superfluum esse censet, ipse quod non habet nec curat_,
that which he hath not himself or doth not esteem, he accounts superfluity,
an idle quality, a mere foppery in another: like Aesop's fox, when he had
lost his tail, would have all his fellow foxes cut off theirs. The Chinese
say, that we Europeans have one eye, they themselves two, all the world
else is blind: (though [403]Scaliger accounts them brutes too, _merum
pecus_,) so thou and thy sectaries are only wise, others indifferent, the
rest beside themselves, mere idiots and asses. Thus not acknowledging our
own errors and imperfections, we securely deride others, as if we alone
were free, and spectators of the rest, accounting it an excellent thing, as
indeed it is, _Aliena optimum frui insania_, to make ourselves merry with
other men's obliquities, when as he himself is more faulty than the rest,
_mutato nomine, de te fabula narratur_, he may take himself by the nose for
a fool; and which one calls _maximum stultitiae specimen_, to be ridiculous
to others, and not to perceive or take notice of it, as Marsyas was when he
contended with Apollo, _non intelligens se deridiculo haberi_, saith [404]
Apuleius; 'tis his own cause, he is a convicted madman, as [405]Austin well
infers "in the eyes of wise men and angels he seems like one, that to our
thinking walks with his heels upwards." So thou laughest at me, and I at
thee, both at a third; and he returns that of the poet upon us again,
[406]_Hei mihi, insanire me aiunt, quum ipsi ultro insaniant_. We accuse
others of madness, of folly, and are the veriest dizzards ourselves. For it
is a great sign and property of a fool (which Eccl. x. 3, points at) out of
pride and self-conceit to insult, vilify, condemn, censure, and call other
men fools (_Non videmus manticae quod a tergo est_) to tax that in others
of which we are most faulty; teach that which we follow not ourselves: For
an inconstant man to write of constancy, a profane liver prescribe rules of
sanctity and piety, a dizzard himself make a treatise of wisdom, or with
Sallust to rail downright at spoilers of countries, and yet in [407]office
to be a most grievous poller himself. This argues weakness, and is an
evident sign of such parties' indiscretion. [408]_Peccat uter nostrum cruce
dignius_? "Who is the fool now?" Or else peradventure in some places we are
all mad for company, and so 'tis not seen, _Satietas erroris et dementiae,
pariter absurditatem et admirationem tollit_. 'Tis with us, as it was of
old (in [409]Tully's censure at least) with C. Pimbria in Rome, a bold,
hair-brain, mad fellow, and so esteemed of all, such only excepted, that
were as mad as himself: now in such a case there is [410]no notice taken of

       "Nimirum insanus paucis videatur; eo quod
        Maxima pars hominum morbo jactatur eodem."

       "When all are mad, where all are like opprest
        Who can discern one mad man from the rest?"

But put case they do perceive it, and some one be manifestly convicted of
madness, [411]he now takes notice of his folly, be it in action, gesture,
speech, a vain humour he hath in building, bragging, jangling, spending,
gaming, courting, scribbling, prating, for which he is ridiculous to
others, [412]on which he dotes, he doth acknowledge as much: yet with all
the rhetoric thou hast, thou canst not so recall him, but to the contrary
notwithstanding, he will persevere in his dotage. 'Tis _amabilis insania,
et mentis gratissimus error_, so pleasing, so delicious, that he [413]
cannot leave it. He knows his error, but will not seek to decline it, tell
him what the event will be, beggary, sorrow, sickness, disgrace, shame,
loss, madness, yet [414]"an angry man will prefer vengeance, a lascivious
his whore, a thief his booty, a glutton his belly, before his welfare."
Tell an epicure, a covetous man, an ambitious man of his irregular course,
wean him from it a little, _pol me occidistis amici_, he cries anon, you
have undone him, and as [415]a "dog to his vomit," he returns to it again;
no persuasion will take place, no counsel, say what thou canst,

       "Clames licet et mare coelo
        ------Confundas, surdo narras,"[416]

demonstrate as Ulysses did to [417]Elpenor and Gryllus, and the rest of his
companions "those swinish men," he is irrefragable in his humour, he will
be a hog still; bray him in a mortar, he will be the same. If he be in an
heresy, or some perverse opinion, settled as some of our ignorant Papists
are, convince his understanding, show him the several follies and absurd
fopperies of that sect, force him to say, _veris vincor_, make it as clear
as the sun, [418]he will err still, peevish and obstinate as he is; and as
he said [419]_si in hoc erro, libenter erro, nec hunc errorem auferri mihi
volo_; I will do as I have done, as my predecessors have done, [420]and as
my friends now do: I will dote for company. Say now, are these men [421]mad
or no, [422]_Heus age responde_? are they ridiculous? _cedo quemvis
arbitrum_, are they _sanae mentis_, sober, wise, and discreet? have they
common sense? ------[423]_uter est insanior horum_? I am of Democritus'
opinion for my part, I hold them worthy to be laughed at; a company of
brain-sick dizzards, as mad as [424]Orestes and Athamas, that they may go
"ride the ass," and all sail along to the Anticyrae, in the "ship of fools"
for company together. I need not much labour to prove this which I say
otherwise than thus, make any solemn protestation, or swear, I think you
will believe me without an oath; say at a word, are they fools? I refer it
to you, though you be likewise fools and madmen yourselves, and I as mad to
ask the question; for what said our comical Mercury?

[425]  "Justum ab injustis petere insipientia est."

       "I'll stand to your censure yet, what think you?"

But forasmuch as I undertook at first, that kingdoms, provinces, families,
were melancholy as well as private men, I will examine them in particular,
and that which I have hitherto dilated at random, in more general terms, I
will particularly insist in, prove with more special and evident arguments,
testimonies, illustrations, and that in brief. [426]_Nunc accipe quare
desipiant omnes aeque ac tu._ My first argument is borrowed from Solomon,
an arrow drawn out of his sententious quiver, Pro. iii. 7, "Be not wise in
thine own eyes." And xxvi. 12, "Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit?
more hope is of a fool than of him." Isaiah pronounceth a woe against such
men, cap. v. 21, "that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own
sight." For hence we may gather, that it is a great offence, and men are
much deceived that think too well of themselves, an especial argument to
convince them of folly. Many men (saith [427]Seneca) "had been without
question wise, had they not had an opinion that they had attained to
perfection of knowledge already, even before they had gone half way," too
forward, too ripe, _praeproperi_, too quick and ready, [428]_cito
prudentes, cito pii, cito mariti, cito patres, cito sacerdotes, cito omnis
officii capaces et curiosi_, they had too good a conceit of themselves, and
that marred all; of their worth, valour, skill, art, learning, judgment,
eloquence, their good parts; all their geese are swans, and that manifestly
proves them to be no better than fools. In former times they had but seven
wise men, now you can scarce find so many fools. Thales sent the golden
tripos, which the fishermen found, and the oracle commanded to be [429]
"given to the wisest, to Bias, Bias to Solon," &c. If such a thing were now
found, we should all fight for it, as the three goddesses did for the
golden apple, we are so wise: we have women politicians, children
metaphysicians; every silly fellow can square a circle, make perpetual
motions, find the philosopher's stone, interpret Apocalypses, make new
Theories, a new system of the world, new Logic, new Philosophy, &c. _Nostra
utique regio_, saith [430]Petronius, "our country is so full of deified
spirits, divine souls, that you may sooner find a God than a man amongst
us," we think so well of ourselves, and that is an ample testimony of much

My second argument is grounded upon the like place of Scripture, which
though before mentioned in effect, yet for some reasons is to be repeated
(and by Plato's good leave, I may do it, [431][Greek: dis to kalon raethen
ouden blaptei]) "Fools" (saith David) "by reason of their transgressions."
&c. Psal. cvii. 17. Hence Musculus infers all transgressors must needs be
fools. So we read Rom. ii., "Tribulation and anguish on the soul of every
man that doeth evil;" but all do evil. And Isaiah, lxv. 14, "My servant
shall sing for joy, and [432]ye shall cry for sorrow of heart, and vexation
of mind." 'Tis ratified by the common consent of all philosophers.
"Dishonesty" (saith Cardan) "is nothing else but folly and madness." [433]
_Probus quis nobiscum vivit_? Show me an honest man, _Nemo malus qui non
stultus_, 'tis Fabius' aphorism to the same end. If none honest, none wise,
then all fools. And well may they be so accounted: for who will account him
otherwise, _Qui iter adornat in occidentem, quum properaret in orientem_?
that goes backward all his life, westward, when he is bound to the east? or
hold him a wise man (saith [434]Musculus) "that prefers momentary pleasures
to eternity, that spends his master's goods in his absence, forthwith to be
condemned for it?" _Nequicquam sapit qui sibi non sapit_, who will say that
a sick man is wise, that eats and drinks to overthrow the temperature of
his body? Can you account him wise or discreet that would willingly have
his health, and yet will do nothing that should procure or continue it?
[435]Theodoret, out of Plotinus the Platonist, "holds it a ridiculous thing
for a man to live after his own laws, to do that which is offensive to God,
and yet to hope that he should save him: and when he voluntarily neglects
his own safety, and contemns the means, to think to be delivered by
another:" who will say these men are wise?

A third argument may be derived from the precedent, [436]all men are
carried away with passion, discontent, lust, pleasures, &c., they generally
hate those virtues they should love, and love such vices they should hate.
Therefore more than melancholy, quite mad, brute beasts, and void of
reason, so Chrysostom contends; "or rather dead and buried alive," as [437]
Philo Judeus concludes it for a certainty, "of all such that are carried
away with passions, or labour of any disease of the mind. Where is fear and
sorrow," there [438]Lactantius stiffly maintains, "wisdom cannot dwell,"

        ------"qui cupiet, metuet quoque porro,
        Qui metuens vivit, liber mihi non erit unquam."[439]

Seneca and the rest of the stoics are of opinion, that where is any the
least perturbation, wisdom may not be found. "What more ridiculous," as
[440]Lactantius urges, than to hear how Xerxes whipped the Hellespont,
threatened the Mountain Athos, and the like. To speak _ad rem_, who is free
from passion? [441]_Mortalis nemo est quem non attingat dolor, morbusve_,
as [442]Tully determines out of an old poem, no mortal men can avoid sorrow
and sickness, and sorrow is an inseparable companion from melancholy.
[443]Chrysostom pleads farther yet, that they are more than mad, very
beasts, stupefied and void of common sense: "For how" (saith he) "shall I
know thee to be a man, when thou kickest like an ass, neighest like a horse
after women, ravest in lust like a bull, ravenest like a bear, stingest
like a scorpion, rakest like a wolf, as subtle as a fox, as impudent as a
dog? Shall I say thou art a man, that hast all the symptoms of a beast? How
shall I know thee to be a man? by thy shape? That affrights me more, when I
see a beast in likeness of a man."

[444]Seneca calls that of Epicurus, _magnificam vocem_, an heroical speech,
"A fool still begins to live," and accounts it a filthy lightness in men,
every day to lay new foundations of their life, but who doth otherwise? One
travels, another builds; one for this, another for that business, and old
folks are as far out as the rest; _O dementem senectutem_, Tully exclaims.
Therefore young, old, middle age, are all stupid, and dote.

[445]Aeneas Sylvius, amongst many other, sets down three special ways to
find a fool by. He is a fool that seeks that he cannot find: he is a fool
that seeks that, which being found will do him more harm than good: he is a
fool, that having variety of ways to bring him to his journey's end, takes
that which is worst. If so, methinks most men are fools; examine their
courses, and you shall soon perceive what dizzards and mad men the major
part are.

Beroaldus will have drunkards, afternoon men, and such as more than
ordinarily delight in drink, to be mad. The first pot quencheth thirst, so
Panyasis the poet determines in _Athenaeus, secunda gratiis, horis et
Dyonisio_: the second makes merry, the third for pleasure, _quarta, ad
insaniam_, the fourth makes them mad. If this position be true, what a
catalogue of mad men shall we have? what shall they be that drink four
times four? _Nonne supra omnem furorem, supra omnem insanian reddunt
insanissimos_? I am of his opinion, they are more than mad, much worse than

The [446]Abderites condemned Democritus for a mad man, because he was
sometimes sad, and sometimes again profusely merry. _Hac Patria_ (saith
Hippocrates) _ob risum furere et insanire dicunt_, his countrymen hold him
mad because he laughs; [447]and therefore "he desires him to advise all his
friends at Rhodes, that they do not laugh too much, or be over sad." Had
those Abderites been conversant with us, and but seen what [448] fleering
and grinning there is in this age, they would certainly have concluded, we
had been all out of our wits.

Aristotle in his Ethics holds _felix idemque sapiens_, to be wise and
happy, are reciprocal terms, _bonus idemque sapiens honestus_. 'Tis [449]
Tully's paradox, "wise men are free, but fools are slaves," liberty is a
power to live according to his own laws, as we will ourselves: who hath
this liberty? who is free?

[450]   ------"sapiens sibique imperiosus,
        Quem neque pauperis, neque mors, neque vincula terrent,
        Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores
        Fortis, et in seipso totus teres atque rotundus."

       "He is wise that can command his own will,
        Valiant and constant to himself still,
        Whom poverty nor death, nor bands can fright,
        Checks his desires, scorns honours, just and right."

But where shall such a man be found? If no where, then _e diametro_, we are
all slaves, senseless, or worse. _Nemo malus felix_. But no man is happy
in this life, none good, therefore no man wise. [451]_Rari quippe
boni_------ For one virtue you shall find ten vices in the same party;
_pauci Promethei, multi Epimethei_. We may peradventure usurp the name, or
attribute it to others for favour, as Carolus Sapiens, Philippus Bonus,
Lodovicus Pius, &c., and describe the properties of a wise man, as Tully
doth an orator, Xenophon Cyrus, Castilio a courtier, Galen temperament, an
aristocracy is described by politicians. But where shall such a man be

       "Vir bonus et sapiens, qualem vix repperit unum
        Millibus e multis hominum consultus Apollo."

       "A wise, a good man in a million,
        Apollo consulted could scarce find one."

A man is a miracle of himself, but Trismegistus adds, _Maximum miraculum
homo sapiens_, a wise man is a wonder: _multi Thirsigeri, pauci Bacchi_.

Alexander when he was presented with that rich and costly casket of king
Darius, and every man advised him what to put in it, he reserved it to keep
Homer's works, as the most precious jewel of human wit, and yet [452]
Scaliger upbraids Homer's muse, _Nutricem insanae sapientiae_, a nursery of
madness, [453]impudent as a court lady, that blushes at nothing. Jacobus
Mycillus, Gilbertus Cognatus, Erasmus, and almost all posterity admire
Lucian's luxuriant wit, yet Scaliger rejects him in his censure, and calls
him the Cerberus of the muses. Socrates, whom all the world so much
magnified, is by Lactantius and Theodoret condemned for a fool. Plutarch
extols Seneca's wit beyond all the Greeks, _nulli secundus_, yet [454]
Seneca saith of himself, "when I would solace myself with a fool, I reflect
upon myself, and there I have him." Cardan, in his Sixteenth Book of
Subtleties, reckons up twelve supereminent, acute philosophers, for worth,
subtlety, and wisdom: Archimedes, Galen, Vitruvius, Architas Tarentinus,
Euclid, Geber, that first inventor of Algebra, Alkindus the Mathematician,
both Arabians, with others. But his _triumviri terrarum_ far beyond the
rest, are Ptolomaeus, Plotinus, Hippocrates. Scaliger _exercitat. 224_,
scoffs at this censure of his, calls some of them carpenters and
mechanicians, he makes Galen _fimbriam Hippocratis_, a skirt of
Hippocrates: and the said [455]Cardan himself elsewhere condemns both Galen
and Hippocrates for tediousness, obscurity, confusion. Paracelsus will have
them both mere idiots, infants in physic and philosophy. Scaliger and
Cardan admire Suisset the Calculator, _qui pene modum excessit humani
ingenii_, and yet [456]Lod. Vives calls them _nugas Suisseticas_: and
Cardan, opposite to himself in another place, contemns those ancients in
respect of times present, [457]_Majoresque nostros ad presentes collatos
juste pueros appellari_. In conclusion, the said [458]Cardan and Saint
Bernard will admit none into this catalogue of wise men, [459]but only
prophets and apostles; how they esteem themselves, you have heard before.
We are worldly-wise, admire ourselves, and seek for applause: but hear
Saint [460]Bernard, _quanto magis foras es sapiens, tanto magis intus
stultus efficeris_, &c. _in omnibus es prudens, circa teipsum insipiens_:
the more wise thou art to others, the more fool to thyself. I may not deny
but that there is some folly approved, a divine fury, a holy madness, even
a spiritual drunkenness in the saints of God themselves; _sanctum insanium_
Bernard calls it (though not as blaspheming [461]Vorstius, would infer it
as a passion incident to God himself, but) familiar to good men, as that of
Paul, 2 Cor. "he was a fool," &c. and Rom. ix. he wisheth himself to be
anathematised for them. Such is that drunkenness which Ficinus speaks of,
when the soul is elevated and ravished with a divine taste of that heavenly
nectar, which poets deciphered by the sacrifice of Dionysius, and in this
sense with the poet, [462]_insanire lubet_, as Austin exhorts us, _ad
ebrietatem se quisque paret_, let's all be mad and [463]drunk. But we
commonly mistake, and go beyond our commission, we reel to the opposite
part, [464]we are not capable of it, [465]and as he said of the Greeks,
_Vos Graeci semper pueri, vos Britanni, Galli, Germani, Itali_, &c. you are
a company of fools.

Proceed now _a partibus ad totum_, or from the whole to parts, and you
shall find no other issue, the parts shall be sufficiently dilated in this
following Preface. The whole must needs follow by a sorites or induction.
Every multitude is mad, [466]_bellua multorum capitum_, (a many-headed
beast), precipitate and rash without judgment, _stultum animal_, a roaring
rout. [467]Roger Bacon proves it out of Aristotle, _Vulgus dividi in
oppositum contra sapientes, quod vulgo videtur verum, falsum est_; that
which the commonalty accounts true, is most part false, they are still
opposite to wise men, but all the world is of this humour (_vulgus_), and
thou thyself art _de vulgo_, one of the commonalty; and he, and he, and so
are all the rest; and therefore, as Phocion concludes, to be approved in
nought you say or do, mere idiots and asses. Begin then where you will, go
backward or forward, choose out of the whole pack, wink and choose, you
shall find them all alike, "never a barrel better herring."

Copernicus, Atlas his successor, is of opinion, the earth is a planet,
moves and shines to others, as the moon doth to us. Digges, Gilbert,
Keplerus, Origanus, and others, defend this hypothesis of his in sober
sadness, and that the moon is inhabited: if it be so that the earth is a
moon, then are we also giddy, vertiginous and lunatic within this sublunary

I could produce such arguments till dark night: if you should hear the

       "Ante diem clauso component vesper Olimpo:"

       "Through such a train of words if I should run,
        The day would sooner than the tale be done:"

but according to my promise, I will descend to particulars. This melancholy
extends itself not to men only, but even to vegetals and sensibles. I speak
not of those creatures which are saturnine, melancholy by nature, as lead,
and such like minerals, or those plants, rue, cypress, &c. and hellebore
itself, of which [468]Agrippa treats, fishes, birds, and beasts, hares,
conies, dormice, &c., owls, bats, nightbirds, but that artificial, which is
perceived in them all. Remove a plant, it will pine away, which is
especially perceived in date trees, as you may read at large in
Constantine's husbandry, that antipathy betwixt the vine and the cabbage,
vine and oil. Put a bird in a cage, he will die for sullenness, or a beast
in a pen, or take his young ones or companions from him, and see what
effect it will cause. But who perceives not these common passions of
sensible creatures, fear, sorrow, &c. Of all other, dogs are most subject
to this malady, insomuch some hold they dream as men do, and through
violence of melancholy run mad; I could relate many stories of dogs that
have died for grief, and pined away for loss of their masters, but they are
common in every [469]author.

Kingdoms, provinces, and politic bodies are likewise sensible and subject
to this disease, as [470]Boterus in his politics hath proved at large. "As
in human bodies" (saith he) "there be divers alterations proceeding from
humours, so be there many diseases in a commonwealth, which do as diversely
happen from several distempers," as you may easily perceive by their
particular symptoms. For where you shall see the people civil, obedient to
God and princes, judicious, peaceable and quiet, rich, fortunate, [471]and
flourish, to live in peace, in unity and concord, a country well tilled,
many fair built and populous cities, _ubi incolae nitent_ as old [472]Cato
said, the people are neat, polite and terse, _ubi bene, beateque vivunt_,
which our politicians make the chief end of a commonwealth; and which [473]
Aristotle, _Polit. lib. 3, cap. 4_, calls _Commune bonum_, Polybius _lib.
6_, _optabilem et selectum statum_, that country is free from melancholy;
as it was in Italy in the time of Augustus, now in China, now in many other
flourishing kingdoms of Europe. But whereas you shall see many discontents,
common grievances, complaints, poverty, barbarism, beggary, plagues, wars,
rebellions, seditions, mutinies, contentions, idleness, riot, epicurism,
the land lie untilled, waste, full of bogs, fens, deserts, &c., cities
decayed, base and poor towns, villages depopulated, the people squalid,
ugly, uncivil; that kingdom, that country, must needs be discontent,
melancholy, hath a sick body, and had need to be reformed.

Now that cannot well be effected, till the causes of these maladies be
first removed, which commonly proceed from their own default, or some
accidental inconvenience: as to be situated in a bad clime, too far north,
sterile, in a barren place, as the desert of Libya, deserts of Arabia,
places void of waters, as those of Lop and Belgian in Asia, or in a bad
air, as at Alexandretta, Bantam, Pisa, Durrazzo, S. John de Ulloa, &c., or
in danger of the sea's continual inundations, as in many places of the Low
Countries and elsewhere, or near some bad neighbours, as Hungarians to
Turks, Podolians to Tartars, or almost any bordering countries, they live
in fear still, and by reason of hostile incursions are oftentimes left
desolate. So are cities by reason [474]of wars, fires, plagues,
inundations, [475]wild beasts, decay of trades, barred havens, the sea's
violence, as Antwerp may witness of late, Syracuse of old, Brundusium in
Italy, Rye and Dover with us, and many that at this day suspect the sea's
fury and rage, and labour against it as the Venetians to their inestimable
charge. But the most frequent maladies are such as proceed from themselves,
as first when religion and God's service is neglected, innovated or
altered, where they do not fear God, obey their prince, where atheism,
epicurism, sacrilege, simony, &c., and all such impieties are freely
committed, that country cannot prosper. When Abraham came to Gerar, and saw
a bad land, he said, sure the fear of God was not in that place. [476]
Cyprian Echovius, a Spanish chorographer, above all other cities of Spain,
commends Borcino, "in which there was no beggar, no man poor, &c., but all
rich, and in good estate, and he gives the reason, because they were more
religious than, their neighbours:" why was Israel so often spoiled by their
enemies, led into captivity, &c., but for their idolatry, neglect of God's
word, for sacrilege, even for one Achan's fault? And what shall we except
that have such multitudes of Achans, church robbers, simoniacal patrons,
&c., how can they hope to flourish, that neglect divine duties, that live
most part like Epicures?

Other common grievances are generally noxious to a body politic; alteration
of laws and customs, breaking privileges, general oppressions, seditions,
&c., observed by [477]Aristotle, Bodin, Boterus, Junius, Arniscus, &c. I
will only point at some of chiefest. [478]_Impotentia gubernandi, ataxia_,
confusion, ill government, which proceeds from unskilful, slothful,
griping, covetous, unjust, rash, or tyrannizing magistrates, when they are
fools, idiots, children, proud, wilful, partial, indiscreet, oppressors,
giddy heads, tyrants, not able or unfit to manage such offices: [479]many
noble cities and flourishing kingdoms by that means are desolate, the whole
body groans under such heads, and all the members must needs be
disaffected, as at this day those goodly provinces in Asia Minor, &c. groan
under the burthen of a Turkish government; and those vast kingdoms of
Muscovia, Russia, [480]under a tyrannizing duke. Who ever heard of more
civil and rich populous countries than those of "Greece, Asia Minor,
abounding with all [481]wealth, multitudes of inhabitants, force, power,
splendour and magnificence?" and that miracle of countries, [482]the Holy
Land, that in so small a compass of ground could maintain so many towns,
cities, produce so many fighting men? Egypt another paradise, now barbarous
and desert, and almost waste, by the despotical government of an imperious
Turk, _intolerabili servitutis jugo premitur_ ([483]one saith) not only
fire and water, goods or lands, _sed ipse spiritus ab insolentissimi
victoris pendet nutu_, such is their slavery, their lives and souls depend
upon his insolent will and command. A tyrant that spoils all wheresoever he
comes, insomuch that an [484]historian complains, "if an old inhabitant
should now see them, he would not know them, if a traveller, or stranger,
it would grieve his heart to behold them." Whereas [485]Aristotle notes,
_Novae exactiones, nova onera imposita_, new burdens and exactions daily
come upon them, like those of which Zosimus, _lib. 2_, so grievous, _ut
viri uxores, patres filios prostituerent ut exactoribus e questu_, &c.,
they must needs be discontent, _hinc civitatum gemitus et ploratus_, as
[486] Tully holds, hence come those complaints and tears of cities, "poor,
miserable, rebellious, and desperate subjects," as [487]Hippolitus adds;
and [488]as a judicious countryman of ours observed not long since, in a
survey of that great Duchy of Tuscany, the people lived much grieved and
discontent, as appeared by their manifold and manifest complainings in that
kind. "That the state was like a sick body which had lately taken physic,
whose humours are not yet well settled, and weakened so much by purging,
that nothing was left but melancholy."

Whereas the princes and potentates are immoderate in lust, hypocrites,
epicures, of no religion, but in show: _Quid hypocrisi fragilius_? what so
brittle and unsure? what sooner subverts their estates than wandering and
raging lusts, on their subjects' wives, daughters? to say no worse. That
they should _facem praeferre_, lead the way to all virtuous actions, are
the ringleaders oftentimes of all mischief and dissolute courses, and by
that means their countries are plagued, [489]"and they themselves often
ruined, banished, or murdered by conspiracy of their subjects, as
Sardanapalus was, Dionysius Junior, Heliogabalus, Periander, Pisistratus,
Tarquinius, Timocrates, Childericus, Appius Claudius, Andronicus, Galeacius
Sforza, Alexander Medices," &c.

Whereas the princes or great men are malicious, envious, factious,
ambitious, emulators, they tear a commonwealth asunder, as so many Guelfs
and Gibelines disturb the quietness of it, [490]and with mutual murders let
it bleed to death; our histories are too full of such barbarous
inhumanities, and the miseries that issue from them.

Whereas they be like so many horseleeches, hungry, griping, corrupt, [491]
covetous, _avaritice mancipia_, ravenous as wolves, for as Tully writes:
_qui praeest prodest, et qui pecudibus praeest, debet eorum utilitati
inservire_: or such as prefer their private before the public good. For as
[492]he said long since, _res privatae publicis semper officere_. Or
whereas they be illiterate, ignorant, empirics in policy, _ubi deest
facultas_, [493]_virtus_ (Aristot. _pol. 5, cap. 8._) _et scientia_, wise
only by inheritance, and in authority by birthright, favour, or for their
wealth and titles; there must needs be a fault, [494]a great defect:
because as an [495]old philosopher affirms, such men are not always fit.
"Of an infinite number, few alone are senators, and of those few, fewer
good, and of that small number of honest, good, and noble men, few that are
learned, wise, discreet and sufficient, able to discharge such places, it
must needs turn to the confusion of a state."

For as the [496]Princes are, so are the people; _Qualis Rex, talis grex_:
and which [497]Antigonus right well said of old, _qui Macedonia regem
erudit, omnes etiam subditos erudit_, he that teacheth the king of Macedon,
teacheth all his subjects, is a true saying still.

       "For Princes are the glass, the school, the book,
        Where subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look."

        ------"Velocius et citius nos
        Corrumpunt vitiorum exempla domestica, magnis
        Cum subeant animos auctoribus."------[498]

Their examples are soonest followed, vices entertained, if they be profane,
irreligious, lascivious, riotous, epicures, factious, covetous, ambitious,
illiterate, so will the commons most part be, idle, unthrifts, prone to
lust, drunkards, and therefore poor and needy ([Greek: hae penia stasin
empoiei kai kakourgian], for poverty begets sedition and villainy) upon all
occasions ready to mutiny and rebel, discontent still, complaining,
murmuring, grudging, apt to all outrages, thefts, treasons, murders,
innovations, in debt, shifters, cozeners, outlaws, _Profligatae famae ac
vitae_. It was an old [499]politician's aphorism, "They that are poor and
bad envy rich, hate good men, abhor the present government, wish for a new,
and would have all turned topsy-turvy." When Catiline rebelled in Rome, he
got a company of such debauched rogues together, they were his familiars
and coadjutors, and such have been your rebels most part in all ages, Jack
Cade, Tom Straw, Kette, and his companions.

Where they be generally riotous and contentious, where there be many
discords, many laws, many lawsuits, many lawyers and many physicians, it is
a manifest sign of a distempered, melancholy state, as [500]Plato long
since maintained: for where such kind of men swarm, they will make more
work for themselves, and that body politic diseased, which was otherwise
sound. A general mischief in these our times, an insensible plague, and
never so many of them: "which are now multiplied" (saith Mat. Geraldus,
[501]a lawyer himself,) "as so many locusts, not the parents, but the
plagues of the country, and for the most part a supercilious, bad,
covetous, litigious generation of men." [502]_Crumenimulga natio_ &c. A
purse-milking nation, a clamorous company, gowned vultures, [503]_qui ex
injuria vivent et sanguine civium_, thieves and seminaries of discord;
worse than any pollers by the highway side, _auri accipitres, auri
exterebronides, pecuniarum hamiolae, quadruplatores, curiae harpagones,
fori tintinabula, monstra hominum, mangones_, &c. that take upon them to
make peace, but are indeed the very disturbers of our peace, a company of
irreligious harpies, scraping, griping catchpoles, (I mean our common
hungry pettifoggers, [504]_rabulas forenses_, love and honour in the
meantime all good laws, and worthy lawyers, that are so many [505]oracles
and pilots of a well-governed commonwealth). Without art, without judgment,
that do more harm, as [506]Livy said, _quam bella externa, fames, morbive_,
than sickness, wars, hunger, diseases; "and cause a most incredible
destruction of a commonwealth," saith [507]Sesellius, a famous civilian
sometimes in Paris, as ivy doth by an oak, embrace it so long, until it
hath got the heart out of it, so do they by such places they inhabit; no
counsel at all, no justice, no speech to be had, _nisi eum premulseris_, he
must be fed still, or else he is as mute as a fish, better open an oyster
without a knife. _Experto crede_ (saith [508] Salisburiensis) _in manus
eorum millies incidi, et Charon immitis qui nulli pepercit unquam, his
longe clementior est_; "I speak out of experience, I have been a thousand
times amongst them, and Charon himself is more gentle than they; [509]he is
contented with his single pay, but they multiply still, they are never
satisfied," besides they have _damnificas linguas_, as he terms it, _nisi
funibus argenteis vincias_, they must be fed to say nothing, and [510]get
more to hold their peace than we can to say our best. They will speak their
clients fair, and invite them to their tables, but as he follows it,
[511]"of all injustice there is none so pernicious as that of theirs, which
when they deceive most, will seem to be honest men." They take upon them to
be peacemakers, _et fovere causas humilium_, to help them to their right,
_patrocinantur afflictis_, [512]but all is for their own good, _ut loculos
pleniorom exhauriant_, they plead for poor men gratis, but they are but as
a stale to catch others. If there be no jar, [513]they can make a jar, out
of the law itself find still some quirk or other, to set them at odds, and
continue causes so long, _lustra aliquot_, I know not how many years before
the cause is heard, and when 'tis judged and determined by reason of some
tricks and errors, it is as fresh to begin, after twice seven years
sometimes, as it was at first; and so they prolong time, delay suits till
they have enriched themselves, and beggared their clients. And, as
[514]Cato inveighed against Isocrates' scholars, we may justly tax our
wrangling lawyers, they do _consenescere in litibus_, are so litigious and
busy here on earth, that I think they will plead their client's causes
hereafter, some of them in hell. [515] Simlerus complains amongst the
Swissers of the advocates in his time, that when they should make an end,
they began controversies, and "protract their causes many years, persuading
them their title is good, till their patrimonies be consumed, and that they
have spent more in seeking than the thing is worth, or they shall get by
the recovery." So that he that goes to law, as the proverb is, [516]holds a
wolf by the ears, or as a sheep in a storm runs for shelter to a brier, if
he prosecute his cause he is consumed, if he surcease his suit he loseth
all; [517]what difference? They had wont heretofore, saith Austin, to end
matters, _per communes arbitros_; and so in Switzerland (we are informed by
[518]Simlerus), "they had some common arbitrators or daysmen in every town,
that made a friendly composition betwixt man and man, and he much wonders
at their honest simplicity, that could keep peace so well, and end such
great causes by that means." At [519]Fez in Africa, they have neither
lawyers nor advocates; but if there be any controversies amongst them, both
parties plaintiff and defendant come to their Alfakins or chief judge, "and
at once without any farther appeals or pitiful delays, the cause is heard
and ended." Our forefathers, as [520]a worthy chorographer of ours
observes, had wont _pauculis cruculis aureis_, with a few golden crosses,
and lines in verse, make all conveyances, assurances. And such was the
candour and integrity of succeeding ages, that a deed (as I have oft seen)
to convey a whole manor, was _implicite_ contained in some twenty lines or
thereabouts; like that scede or _Sytala Laconica_, so much renowned of old
in all contracts, which [521]Tully so earnestly commends to Atticus,
Plutarch in his Lysander, Aristotle _polit._: Thucydides, _lib. 1_,
[522]Diodorus and Suidus approve and magnify, for that laconic brevity in
this kind; and well they might, for, according to [523]Tertullian, _certa
sunt paucis_, there is much more certainty in fewer words. And so was it of
old throughout: but now many skins of parchment will scarce serve turn; he
that buys and sells a house, must have a house full of writings, there be
so many circumstances, so many words, such tautological repetitions of all
particulars (to avoid cavillation they say); but we find by our woeful
experience, that to subtle wits it is a cause of much more contention and
variance, and scarce any conveyance so accurately penned by one, which
another will not find a crack in, or cavil at; if any one word be
misplaced, any little error, all is disannulled. That which is a law today,
is none tomorrow; that which is sound in one man's opinion, is most faulty
to another; that in conclusion, here is nothing amongst us but contention
and confusion, we bandy one against another. And that which long since
[524]Plutarch complained of them in Asia, may be verified in our times.
"These men here assembled, come not to sacrifice to their gods, to offer
Jupiter their first-fruits, or merriments to Bacchus; but an yearly disease
exasperating Asia hath brought them hither, to make an end of their
controversies and lawsuits." 'Tis _multitudo perdentium et pereuntium_, a
destructive rout that seek one another's ruin. Such most part are our
ordinary suitors, termers, clients, new stirs every day, mistakes, errors,
cavils, and at this present, as I have heard in some one court, I know not
how many thousand causes: no person free, no title almost good, with such
bitterness in following, so many slights, procrastinations, delays,
forgery, such cost (for infinite sums are inconsiderately spent), violence
and malice, I know not by whose fault, lawyers, clients, laws, both or all:
but as Paul reprehended the [525]Corinthians long since, I may more
positively infer now: "There is a fault amongst you, and I speak it to your
shame, Is there not a [526]wise man amongst you, to judge between his
brethren? but that a brother goes to law with a brother." And [527]Christ's
counsel concerning lawsuits, was never so fit to be inculcated as in this
age: [528]"Agree with thine adversary quickly," &c. Matth. v. 25.

I could repeat many such particular grievances, which must disturb a body
politic. To shut up all in brief, where good government is, prudent and
wise princes, there all things thrive and prosper, peace and happiness is
in that land: where it is otherwise, all things are ugly to behold, incult,
barbarous, uncivil, a paradise is turned to a wilderness. This island
amongst the rest, our next neighbours the French and Germans, may be a
sufficient witness, that in a short time by that prudent policy of the
Romans, was brought from barbarism; see but what Caesar reports of us, and
Tacitus of those old Germans, they were once as uncivil as they in
Virginia, yet by planting of colonies and good laws, they became from
barbarous outlaws, [529]to be full of rich and populous cities, as now they
are, and most flourishing kingdoms. Even so might Virginia, and those wild
Irish have been civilised long since, if that order had been heretofore
taken, which now begins, of planting colonies, &c. I have read a
[530]discourse, printed _anno_ 1612. "Discovering the true causes why
Ireland was never entirely subdued, or brought under obedience to the crown
of England, until the beginning of his Majesty's happy reign." Yet if his
reasons were thoroughly scanned by a judicious politician, I am afraid he
would not altogether be approved, but that it would turn to the dishonour
of our nation, to suffer it to lie so long waste. Yea, and if some
travellers should see (to come nearer home) those rich, united provinces of
Holland, Zealand, &c., over against us; those neat cities and populous
towns, full of most industrious artificers, [531]so much land recovered
from the sea, and so painfully preserved by those artificial inventions, so
wonderfully approved, as that of Bemster in Holland, _ut nihil huic par aut
simile invenias in toto orbe_, saith Bertius the geographer, all the world
cannot match it, [532]so many navigable channels from place to place, made
by men's hands, &c. and on the other side so many thousand acres of our
fens lie drowned, our cities thin, and those vile, poor, and ugly to behold
in respect of theirs, our trades decayed, our still running rivers stopped,
and that beneficial use of transportation, wholly neglected, so many havens
void of ships and towns, so many parks and forests for pleasure, barren
heaths, so many villages depopulated, &c. I think sure he would find some

I may not deny but that this nation of ours, doth _bene audire apud
exteros_, is a most noble, a most flourishing kingdom, by common consent of
all [533]geographers, historians, politicians, 'tis _unica velut arx_,
[534]and which Quintius in Livy said of the inhabitants of Peloponnesus,
may be well applied to us, we are _testudines testa sua inclusi_, like so
many tortoises in our shells, safely defended by an angry sea, as a wall on
all sides. Our island hath many such honourable eulogiums; and as a learned
countryman of ours right well hath it, [535]"Ever since the Normans first
coming into England, this country both for military matters, and all other
of civility, hath been paralleled with the most flourishing kingdoms of
Europe and our Christian world," a blessed, a rich country, and one of the
fortunate isles: and for some things [536]preferred before other countries,
for expert seamen, our laborious discoveries, art of navigation, true
merchants, they carry the bell away from all other nations, even the
Portugals and Hollanders themselves; [537]"without all fear," saith
Boterus, "furrowing the ocean winter and summer, and two of their captains,
with no less valour than fortune, have sailed round about the world." [538]
We have besides many particular blessings, which our neighbours want, the
Gospel truly preached, church discipline established, long peace and
quietness free from exactions, foreign fears, invasions, domestical
seditions, well manured, [539]fortified by art, and nature, and now most
happy in that fortunate union of England and Scotland, which our
forefathers have laboured to effect, and desired to see. But in which we
excel all others, a wise, learned, religious king, another Numa, a second
Augustus, a true Josiah; most worthy senators, a learned clergy, an
obedient commonalty, &c. Yet amongst many roses, some thistles grow, some
bad weeds and enormities, which much disturb the peace of this body
politic, eclipse the honour and glory of it, fit to be rooted out, and with
all speed to be reformed.

The first is idleness, by reason of which we have many swarms of rogues,
and beggars, thieves, drunkards, and discontented persons (whom Lycurgus in
Plutarch calls _morbos reipublicae_, the boils of the commonwealth), many
poor people in all our towns. _Civitates ignobiles_, as [540]Polydore calls
them, base-built cities, inglorious, poor, small, rare in sight, ruinous,
and thin of inhabitants. Our land is fertile we may not deny, full of all
good things, and why doth it not then abound with cities, as well as Italy,
France, Germany, the Low Countries? because their policy hath been
otherwise, and we are not so thrifty, circumspect, industrious. Idleness is
the _malus genius_ of our nation. For as [541]Boterus justly argues,
fertility of a country is not enough, except art and industry be joined
unto it, according to Aristotle, riches are either natural or artificial;
natural are good land, fair mines, &c. artificial, are manufactures, coins,
&c. Many kingdoms are fertile, but thin of inhabitants, as that Duchy of
Piedmont in Italy, which Leander Albertus so much magnifies for corn, wine,
fruits, &c., yet nothing near so populous as those which are more barren.
[542]"England," saith he, "London only excepted, hath never a populous
city, and yet a fruitful country." I find 46 cities and walled towns in
Alsatia, a small province in Germany, 50 castles, an infinite number of
villages, no ground idle, no not rocky places, or tops of hills are
untilled, as [543]Munster informeth us. In [544]Greichgea, a small
territory on the Necker, 24 Italian miles over, I read of 20 walled towns,
innumerable villages, each one containing 150 houses most part, besides
castles and noblemen's palaces. I observe in [545]Turinge in Dutchland
(twelve miles over by their scale) 12 counties, and in them 144 cities,
2000 villages, 144 towns, 250 castles. In [546]Bavaria 34 cities, 46 towns,
&c. [547]_Portugallia interamnis_, a small plot of ground, hath 1460
parishes, 130 monasteries, 200 bridges. Malta, a barren island, yields
20,000 inhabitants. But of all the rest, I admire Lues Guicciardine's
relations of the Low Countries. Holland hath 26 cities, 400 great villages.
Zealand 10 cities, 102 parishes. Brabant 26 cities, 102 parishes. Flanders
28 cities, 90 towns, 1154 villages, besides abbeys, castles, &c. The Low
Countries generally have three cities at least for one of ours, and those
far more populous and rich: and what is the cause, but their industry and
excellency in all manner of trades? Their commerce, which is maintained by
a multitude of tradesmen, so many excellent channels made by art and
opportune havens, to which they build their cities; all which we have in
like measure, or at least may have. But their chiefest loadstone which
draws all manner of commerce and merchandise, which maintains their present
estate, is not fertility of soil, but industry that enricheth them, the
gold mines of Peru, or Nova Hispania may not compare with them. They have
neither gold nor silver of their own, wine nor oil, or scarce any corn
growing in those united provinces, little or no wood, tin, lead, iron,
silk, wool, any stuff almost, or metal; and yet Hungary, Transylvania, that
brag of their mines, fertile England cannot compare with them. I dare
boldly say, that neither France, Tarentum, Apulia, Lombardy, or any part of
Italy, Valentia in Spain, or that pleasant Andalusia, with their excellent
fruits, wine and oil, two harvests, no not any part of Europe is so
flourishing, so rich, so populous, so full of good ships, of well-built
cities, so abounding with all things necessary for the use of man. 'Tis our
Indies, an epitome of China, and all by reason of their industry, good
policy, and commerce. Industry is a loadstone to draw all good things; that
alone makes countries flourish, cities populous, [548]and will enforce by
reason of much manure, which necessarily follows, a barren soil to be
fertile and good, as sheep, saith [549]Dion, mend a bad pasture.

Tell me politicians, why is that fruitful Palestina, noble Greece, Egypt,
Asia Minor, so much decayed, and (mere carcases now) fallen from that they
were? The ground is the same, but the government is altered, the people are
grown slothful, idle, their good husbandry, policy, and industry is
decayed. _Non fatigata aut effaeta, humus_, as [550]Columella well informs
Sylvinus, _sed nostra fit inertia_, &c. May a man believe that which
Aristotle in his politics, Pausanias, Stephanus, Sophianus, Gerbelius
relate of old Greece? I find heretofore 70 cities in Epirus overthrown by
Paulus Aemilius, a goodly province in times past, [551]now left desolate of
good towns and almost inhabitants. Sixty-two cities in Macedonia in
Strabo's time. I find 30 in Laconia, but now scarce so many villages, saith
Gerbelius. If any man from Mount Taygetus should view the country round
about, and see _tot delicias, tot urbes per Peloponesum dispersas_, so many
delicate and brave built cities with such cost and exquisite cunning, so
neatly set out in Peloponnesus, [552]he should perceive them now ruinous
and overthrown, burnt, waste, desolate, and laid level with the ground.
_Incredibile dictu_, &c. And as he laments, _Quis talia fando Temperet a
lachrymis? Quis tam durus aut ferreus_, (so he prosecutes it). [553]Who is
he that can sufficiently condole and commiserate these ruins? Where are
those 4000 cities of Egypt, those 100 cities in Crete? Are they now come to
two? What saith Pliny and Aelian of old Italy? There were in former ages
1166 cities: Blondus and Machiavel, both grant them now nothing near so
populous, and full of good towns as in the time of Augustus (for now
Leander Albertus can find but 300 at most), and if we may give credit to
[554]Livy, not then so strong and puissant as of old: "They mustered 70
Legions in former times, which now the known world will scarce yield."
Alexander built 70 cities in a short space for his part, our sultans and
Turks demolish twice as many, and leave all desolate. Many will not believe
but that our island of Great Britain is now more populous than ever it was;
yet let them read Bede, Leland and others, they shall find it most
flourished in the Saxon Heptarchy, and in the Conqueror's time was far
better inhabited, than at this present. See that Doomsday Book, and show me
those thousands of parishes, which are now decayed, cities ruined, villages
depopulated, &c. The lesser the territory is, commonly, the richer it is.
_Parvus sed bene cultus ager_. As those Athenian, Lacedaemonian, Arcadian,
Aelian, Sycionian, Messenian, &c. commonwealths of Greece make ample proof,
as those imperial cities and free states of Germany may witness, those
Cantons of Switzers, Rheti, Grisons, Walloons, Territories of Tuscany, Luke
and Senes of old, Piedmont, Mantua, Venice in Italy, Ragusa, &c.

That prince therefore as, [555]Boterus adviseth, that will have a rich
country, and fair cities, let him get good trades, privileges, painful
inhabitants, artificers, and suffer no rude matter unwrought, as tin, iron,
wool, lead, &c., to be transported out of his country,--[556]a thing in
part seriously attempted amongst us, but not effected. And because industry
of men, and multitude of trade so much avails to the ornament and enriching
of a kingdom; those ancient [557]Massilians would admit no man into their
city that had not some trade. Selym the first Turkish emperor procured a
thousand good artificers to be brought from Tauris to Constantinople. The
Polanders indented with Henry Duke of Anjou, their new chosen king, to
bring with him an hundred families of artificers into Poland. James the
first in Scotland (as [558]Buchanan writes) sent for the best artificers he
could get in Europe, and gave them great rewards to teach his subjects
their several trades. Edward the Third, our most renowned king, to his
eternal memory, brought clothing first into this island, transporting some
families of artificers from Gaunt hither. How many goodly cities could I
reckon up, that thrive wholly by trade, where thousands of inhabitants live
singular well by their fingers' ends: As Florence in Italy by making cloth
of gold; great Milan by silk, and all curious works; Arras in Artois by
those fair hangings; many cities in Spain, many in France, Germany, have
none other maintenance, especially those within the land. [559]Mecca, in
Arabia Petraea, stands in a most unfruitful country, that wants water,
amongst the rocks (as Vertomannus describes it), and yet it is a most
elegant and pleasant city, by reason of the traffic of the east and west.
Ormus in Persia is a most famous mart-town, hath nought else but the
opportunity of the haven to make it flourish. Corinth, a noble city (Lumen
Greciae, Tully calls it) the Eye of Greece, by reason of Cenchreas and
Lecheus, those excellent ports, drew all that traffic of the Ionian and
Aegean seas to it; and yet the country about it was _curva et
superciliosa_, as [560]Strabo terms it, rugged and harsh. We may say the
same of Athens, Actium, Thebes, Sparta, and most of those towns in Greece.
Nuremberg in Germany is sited in a most barren soil, yet a noble imperial
city, by the sole industry of artificers, and cunning trades, they draw the
riches of most countries to them, so expert in manufactures, that as
Sallust long since gave out of the like, _Sedem animae in extremis digitis
habent_, their soul, or _intellectus agens_, was placed in their fingers'
end; and so we may say of Basil, Spire, Cambray, Frankfurt, &c. It is
almost incredible to speak what some write of Mexico and the cities
adjoining to it, no place in the world at their first discovery more
populous, [561]Mat. Riccius, the Jesuit, and some others, relate of the
industry of the Chinese most populous countries, not a beggar or an idle
person to be seen, and how by that means they prosper and flourish. We have
the same means, able bodies, pliant wits, matter of all sorts, wool, flax,
iron, tin, lead, wood, &c., many excellent subjects to work upon, only
industry is wanting. We send our best commodities beyond the seas, which
they make good use of to their necessities, set themselves a work about,
and severally improve, sending the same to us back at dear rates, or else
make toys and baubles of the tails of them, which they sell to us again, at
as great a reckoning as the whole. In most of our cities, some few
excepted, like [562]Spanish loiterers, we live wholly by tippling-inns and
alehouses. Malting are their best ploughs, their greatest traffic to sell
ale. [563]Meteran and some others object to us, that we are no whit so
industrious as the Hollanders: "Manual trades" (saith he) "which are more
curious or troublesome, are wholly exercised by strangers: they dwell in a
sea full of fish, but they are so idle, they will not catch so much as
shall serve their own turns, but buy it of their neighbours." Tush
[564]_Mare liberum_, they fish under our noses, and sell it to us when they
have done, at their own prices.

        ------"Pudet haec opprobria nobis
        Et dici potuisse, et non potuisse refelli."

I am ashamed to hear this objected by strangers, and know not how to answer

Amongst our towns, there is only [565]London that bears the face of a city,
[566]_Epitome Britanniae_, a famous emporium, second to none beyond seas, a
noble mart: but _sola crescit, decrescentibus aliis_; and yet, in my
slender judgment, defective in many things. The rest ([567]some few
excepted) are in mean estate, ruinous most part, poor, and full of beggars,
by reason of their decayed trades, neglected or bad policy, idleness of
their inhabitants, riot, which had rather beg or loiter, and be ready to
starve, than work.

I cannot deny but that something may be said in defence of our cities,
[568]that they are not so fair built, (for the sole magnificence of this
kingdom (concerning buildings) hath been of old in those Norman castles and
religious houses,) so rich, thick sited, populous, as in some other
countries; besides the reasons Cardan gives, _Subtil. Lib. 11._ we want
wine and oil, their two harvests, we dwell in a colder air, and for that
cause must a little more liberally [569]feed of flesh, as all northern
countries do: our provisions will not therefore extend to the maintenance
of so many; yet notwithstanding we have matter of all sorts, an open sea
for traffic, as well as the rest, goodly havens. And how can we excuse our
negligence, our riot, drunkenness, &c., and such enormities that follow it?
We have excellent laws enacted, you will say, severe statutes, houses of
correction, &c., to small purpose it seems; it is not houses will serve,
but cities of correction; [570]our trades generally ought to be reformed,
wants supplied. In other countries they have the same grievances, I
confess, but that doth not excuse us, [571]wants, defects, enormities, idle
drones, tumults, discords, contention, lawsuits, many laws made against
them to repress those innumerable brawls and lawsuits, excess in apparel,
diet, decay of tillage, depopulations, [572]especially against rogues,
beggars, Egyptian vagabonds (so termed at least) which have [573] swarmed
all over Germany, France, Italy, Poland, as you may read in [574] Munster,
Cranzius, and Aventinus; as those Tartars and Arabians at this day do in
the eastern countries: yet such has been the iniquity of all ages, as it
seems to small purpose. _Nemo in nostra civitate mendicus esto_, [575]
saith Plato: he will have them purged from a [576]commonwealth, [577]"as a
bad humour from the body," that are like so many ulcers and boils, and must
be cured before the melancholy body can be eased.

What Carolus Magnus, the Chinese, the Spaniards, the duke of Saxony and
many other states have decreed in this case, read Arniseus, _cap. 19_;
Boterus, _libro 8, cap. 2_; Osorius _de Rubus gest. Eman. lib. 11._ When a
country is overstocked with people, as a pasture is oft overlaid with
cattle, they had wont in former times to disburden themselves, by sending
out colonies, or by wars, as those old Romans; or by employing them at home
about some public buildings, as bridges, roadways, for which those Romans
were famous in this island; as Augustus Caesar did in Rome, the Spaniards
in their Indian mines, as at Potosi in Peru, where some 30,000 men are
still at work, 6000 furnaces ever boiling, &c. [578]aqueducts, bridges,
havens, those stupend works of Trajan, Claudius, at [579]Ostium,
Dioclesiani Therma, Fucinus Lacus, that Piraeum in Athens, made by
Themistocles, ampitheatrums of curious marble, as at Verona, Civitas
Philippi, and Heraclea in Thrace, those Appian and Flaminian ways,
prodigious works all may witness; and rather than they should be [580]idle,
as those [581] Egyptian Pharaohs, Maris, and Sesostris did, to task their
subjects to build unnecessary pyramids, obelisks, labyrinths, channels,
lakes, gigantic works all, to divert them from rebellion, riot,
drunkenness, [582]_Quo scilicet alantur et ne vagando laborare desuescant_.

Another eyesore is that want of conduct and navigable rivers, a great
blemish as [583]Boterus, [584]Hippolitus a Collibus, and other politicians
hold, if it be neglected in a commonwealth. Admirable cost and charge is
bestowed in the Low Countries on this behalf, in the duchy of Milan,
territory of Padua, in [585]France, Italy, China, and so likewise about
corrivations of water to moisten and refresh barren grounds, to drain fens,
bogs, and moors. Massinissa made many inward parts of Barbary and Numidia
in Africa, before his time incult and horrid, fruitful and bartable by this
means. Great industry is generally used all over the eastern countries in
this kind, especially in Egypt, about Babylon and Damascus, as Vertomannus
and [586]Gotardus Arthus relate; about Barcelona, Segovia, Murcia, and many
other places of Spain, Milan in Italy; by reason of which, their soil is
much impoverished, and infinite commodities arise to the inhabitants.

The Turks of late attempted to cut that Isthmus betwixt Africa and Asia,
which [587]Sesostris and Darius, and some Pharaohs of Egypt had formerly
undertaken, but with ill success, as [588]Diodorus Siculus records, and
Pliny, for that Red Sea being three [589]cubits higher than Egypt, would
have drowned all the country, _caepto destiterant_, they left off; yet as
the same [590]Diodorus writes, Ptolemy renewed the work many years after,
and absolved in it a more opportune place.

That Isthmus of Corinth was likewise undertaken to be made navigable by
Demetrius, by Julius Caesar, Nero, Domitian, Herodes Atticus, to make a
speedy [591]passage, and less dangerous, from the Ionian and Aegean seas;
but because it could not be so well effected, the Peloponnesians built a
wall like our Picts' wall about Schaenute, where Neptune's temple stood,
and in the shortest cut over the Isthmus, of which Diodorus, _lib. 11._
Herodotus, _lib. 8. Uran._ Our latter writers call it Hexamilium, which
Amurath the Turk demolished, the Venetians, _anno_ 1453, repaired in 15
days with 30,000 men. Some, saith Acosta, would have a passage cut from
Panama to Nombre de Dios in America; but Thuanus and Serres the French
historians speak of a famous aqueduct in France, intended in Henry the
Fourth's time, from the Loire to the Seine, and from Rhodanus to the Loire.
The like to which was formerly assayed by Domitian the emperor, [592]from
Arar to Moselle, which Cornelius Tacitus speaks of in the 13 of his annals,
after by Charles the Great and others. Much cost hath in former times been
bestowed in either new making or mending channels of rivers, and their
passages, (as Aurelianus did by Tiber to make it navigable to Rome, to
convey corn from Egypt to the city, _vadum alvei tumentis effodit_ saith
Vopiscus, _et Tiberis ripas extruxit_ he cut fords, made banks, &c.)
decayed havens, which Claudius the emperor with infinite pains and charges
attempted at Ostia, as I have said, the Venetians at this day to preserve
their city; many excellent means to enrich their territories, have been
fostered, invented in most provinces of Europe, as planting some Indian
plants amongst us, silkworms, [593]the very mulberry leaves in the plains
of Granada yield 30,000 crowns per annum to the king of Spain's coffers,
besides those many trades and artificers that are busied about them in the
kingdom of Granada, Murcia, and all over Spain. In France a great benefit
is raised by salt, &c., whether these things might not be as happily
attempted with us, and with like success, it may be controverted, silkworms
(I mean) vines, fir trees, &c. Cardan exhorts Edward the Sixth to plant
olives, and is fully persuaded they would prosper in this island. With us,
navigable rivers are most part neglected; our streams are not great, I
confess, by reason of the narrowness of the island, yet they run smoothly
and even, not headlong, swift, or amongst rocks and shelves, as foaming
Rhodanus and Loire in France, Tigris in Mesopotamia, violent Durius in
Spain, with cataracts and whirlpools, as the Rhine, and Danubius, about
Shaffausen, Lausenburgh, Linz, and Cremmes, to endanger navigators; or
broad shallow, as Neckar in the Palatinate, Tibris in Italy; but calm and
fair as Arar in France, Hebrus in Macedonia, Eurotas in Laconia, they
gently glide along, and might as well be repaired many of them (I mean Wye,
Trent, Ouse, Thamisis at Oxford, the defect of which we feel in the mean
time) as the river of Lee from Ware to London. B. Atwater of old, or as
some will Henry I. [594]made a channel from Trent to Lincoln, navigable;
which now, saith Mr. Camden, is decayed, and much mention is made of
anchors, and such like monuments found about old [595]Verulamium, good
ships have formerly come to Exeter, and many such places, whose channels,
havens, ports are now barred and rejected. We contemn this benefit of
carriage by waters, and are therefore compelled in the inner parts of this
island, because portage is so dear, to eat up our commodities ourselves,
and live like so many boars in a sty, for want of vent and utterance.

We have many excellent havens, royal havens, Falmouth, Portsmouth, Milford,
&c. equivalent if not to be preferred to that Indian Havana, old Brundusium
in Italy, Aulis in Greece, Ambracia in Acarnia, Suda in Crete, which have
few ships in them, little or no traffic or trade, which have scarce a
village on them, able to bear great cities, _sed viderint politici_. I
could here justly tax many other neglects, abuses, errors, defects among
us, and in other countries, depopulations, riot, drunkenness, &c. and many
such, _quae nunc in aurem susurrare, non libet_. But I must take heed, _ne
quid gravius dicam_, that I do not overshoot myself, _Sus Minervam_, I am
forth of my element, as you peradventure suppose; and sometimes _veritas
odium parit_, as he said, "verjuice and oatmeal is good for a parrot." For
as Lucian said of an historian, I say of a politician. He that will freely
speak and write, must be for ever no subject, under no prince or law, but
lay out the matter truly as it is, not caring what any can, will, like or

We have good laws, I deny not, to rectify such enormities, and so in all
other countries, but it seems not always to good purpose. We had need of
some general visitor in our age, that should reform what is amiss; a just
army of Rosy-cross men, for they will amend all matters (they say)
religion, policy, manners, with arts, sciences, &c. Another Attila,
Tamerlane, Hercules, to strive with Achelous, _Augeae stabulum purgare_, to
subdue tyrants, as [596]he did Diomedes and Busiris: to expel thieves, as
he did Cacus and Lacinius: to vindicate poor captives, as he did Hesione:
to pass the torrid zone, the deserts of Libya, and purge the world of
monsters and Centaurs: or another Theban Crates to reform our manners, to
compose quarrels and controversies, as in his time he did, and was
therefore adored for a god in Athens. "As Hercules [597]purged the world of
monsters, and subdued them, so did he fight against envy, lust, anger,
avarice, &c. and all those feral vices and monsters of the mind." It were
to be wished we had some such visitor, or if wishing would serve, one had
such a ring or rings, as Timolaus desired in [598]Lucian, by virtue of
which he should be as strong as 10,000 men, or an army of giants, go
invisible, open gates and castle doors, have what treasure he would,
transport himself in an instant to what place he desired, alter affections,
cure all manner of diseases, that he might range over the world, and reform
all distressed states and persons, as he would himself. He might reduce
those wandering Tartars in order, that infest China on the one side,
Muscovy, Poland, on the other; and tame the vagabond Arabians that rob and
spoil those eastern countries, that they should never use more caravans, or
janissaries to conduct them. He might root out barbarism out of America,
and fully discover _Terra Australis Incognita_, find out the north-east and
north-west passages, drain those mighty Maeotian fens, cut down those vast
Hircinian woods, irrigate those barren Arabian deserts, &c. cure us of our
epidemical diseases, _scorbutum, plica, morbus Neapolitanus_, &c. end all
our idle controversies, cut off our tumultuous desires, inordinate lusts,
root out atheism, impiety, heresy, schism and superstition, which now so
crucify the world, catechise gross ignorance, purge Italy of luxury and
riot, Spain of superstition and jealousy, Germany of drunkenness, all our
northern country of gluttony and intemperance, castigate our hard-hearted
parents, masters, tutors; lash disobedient children, negligent servants,
correct these spendthrifts and prodigal sons, enforce idle persons to work,
drive drunkards off the alehouse, repress thieves, visit corrupt and
tyrannizing magistrates, &c. But as L. Licinius taxed Timolaus, you may us.
These are vain, absurd and ridiculous wishes not to be hoped: all must be
as it is, [599]Bocchalinus may cite commonwealths to come before Apollo,
and seek to reform the world itself by commissioners, but there is no
remedy, it may not be redressed, _desinent homines tum demum stultescere
quando esse desinent_, so long as they can wag their beards, they will play
the knaves and fools.

Because, therefore, it is a thing so difficult, impossible, and far beyond
Hercules labours to be performed; let them be rude, stupid, ignorant,
incult, _lapis super lapidem sedeat_, and as the [600]apologist will,
_resp. tussi, et graveolentia laboret, mundus vitio_, let them be barbarous
as they are, let them [601]tyrannise, epicurise, oppress, luxuriate,
consume themselves with factions, superstitions, lawsuits, wars and
contentions, live in riot, poverty, want, misery; rebel, wallow as so many
swine in their own dung, with Ulysses' companions, _stultos jubeo esse
libenter_. I will yet, to satisfy and please myself, make an Utopia of mine
own, a new Atlantis, a poetical commonwealth of mine own, in which I will
freely domineer, build cities, make laws, statutes, as I list myself. And
why may I not?--[602]_Pictoribus atque poetis_, &c. You know what liberty
poets ever had, and besides, my predecessor Democritus was a politician, a
recorder of Abdera, a law maker as some say; and why may not I presume so
much as he did? Howsoever I will adventure. For the site, if you will needs
urge me to it, I am not fully resolved, it may be in _Terra Australi
Incognita_, there is room enough (for of my knowledge neither that hungry
Spaniard, [603]nor Mercurius Britannicus, have yet discovered half of it)
or else one of these floating islands in Mare del Zur, which like the
Cyanian isles in the Euxine sea, alter their place, and are accessible only
at set times, and to some few persons; or one of the fortunate isles, for
who knows yet where, or which they are? there is room enough in the inner
parts of America, and northern coasts of Asia. But I will choose a site,
whose latitude shall be 45 degrees (I respect not minutes) in the midst of
the temperate zone, or perhaps under the equator, that [604]paradise of the
world, _ubi semper virens laurus_, &c. where is a perpetual spring: the
longitude for some reasons I will conceal. Yet "be it known to all men by
these presents," that if any honest gentleman will send in so much money,
as Cardan allows an astrologer for casting a nativity, he shall be a
sharer, I will acquaint him with my project, or if any worthy man will
stand for any temporal or spiritual office or dignity, (for as he said of
his archbishopric of Utopia, 'tis _sanctus ambitus_, and not amiss to be
sought after,) it shall be freely given without all intercessions, bribes,
letters, &c. his own worth shall be the best spokesman; and because we
shall admit of no deputies or advowsons, if he be sufficiently qualified,
and as able as willing to execute the place himself, be shall have present
possession. It shall be divided into 12 or 13 provinces, and those by
hills, rivers, roadways, or some more eminent limits exactly bounded. Each
province shall have a metropolis, which shall be so placed as a centre
almost in a circumference, and the rest at equal distances, some 12 Italian
miles asunder, or thereabout, and in them shall be sold all things
necessary for the use of man; _statis horis et diebus_, no market towns,
markets or fairs, for they do but beggar cities (no village shall stand
above 6, 7, or 8 miles from a city) except those emporiums which are by the
sea side, general staples, marts, as Antwerp, Venice, Bergen of old,
London, &c. cities most part shall be situated upon navigable rivers or
lakes, creeks, havens; and for their form, regular, round, square, or long
square, [605]with fair, broad, and straight [606]streets, houses uniform,
built of brick and stone, like Bruges, Brussels, Rhegium Lepidi, Berne in
Switzerland, Milan, Mantua, Crema, Cambalu in Tartary, described by M.
Polus, or that Venetian Palma. I will admit very few or no suburbs, and
those of baser building, walls only to keep out man and horse, except it be
in some frontier towns, or by the sea side, and those to be fortified [607]
after the latest manner of fortification, and situated upon convenient
havens, or opportune places. In every so built city, I will have convenient
churches, and separate places to bury the dead in, not in churchyards; a
_citadella_ (in some, not all) to command it, prisons for offenders,
opportune market places of all sorts, for corn, meat, cattle, fuel, fish,
commodious courts of justice, public halls for all societies, bourses,
meeting places, armouries, [608]in which shall be kept engines for
quenching of fire, artillery gardens, public walks, theatres, and spacious
fields allotted for all gymnastic sports, and honest recreations, hospitals
of all kinds, for children, orphans, old folks, sick men, mad men,
soldiers, pest-houses, &c. not built _precario_, or by gouty benefactors,
who, when by fraud and rapine they have extorted all their lives, oppressed
whole provinces, societies, &c. give something to pious uses, build a
satisfactory alms-house, school or bridge, &c. at their last end, or before
perhaps, which is no otherwise than to steal a goose, and stick down a
feather, rob a thousand to relieve ten; and those hospitals so built and
maintained, not by collections, benevolences, donaries, for a set number,
(as in ours,) just so many and no more at such a rate, but for all those
who stand in need, be they more or less, and that _ex publico aerario_, and
so still maintained, _non nobis solum nati sumus_, &c. I will have conduits
of sweet and good water, aptly disposed in each town, common [609]
granaries, as at Dresden in Misnia, Stetein in Pomerland, Noremberg, &c.
Colleges of mathematicians, musicians, and actors, as of old at Labedum in
Ionia, [610]alchemists, physicians, artists, and philosophers: that all
arts and sciences may sooner be perfected and better learned; and public
historiographers, as amongst those ancient [611]Persians, _qui in
commentarios referebant quae memoratu digna gerebantur_, informed and
appointed by the state to register all famous acts, and not by each
insufficient scribbler, partial or parasitical pedant, as in our times. I
will provide public schools of all kinds, singing, dancing, fencing, &c.
especially of grammar and languages, not to be taught by those tedious
precepts ordinarily used, but by use, example, conversation, [612]as
travellers learn abroad, and nurses teach their children: as I will have
all such places, so will I ordain [613]public governors, fit officers to
each place, treasurers, aediles, quaestors, overseers of pupils, widows'
goods, and all public houses, &c. and those once a year to make strict
accounts of all receipts, expenses, to avoid confusion, _et sic fiet ut non
absumant_ (as Pliny to Trajan,) _quad pudeat dicere_. They shall be
subordinate to those higher officers and governors of each city, which
shall not be poor tradesmen, and mean artificers, but noblemen and
gentlemen, which shall be tied to residence in those towns they dwell next,
at such set times and seasons: for I see no reason (which [614]Hippolitus
complains of) "that it should be more dishonourable for noblemen to govern
the city than the country, or unseemly to dwell there now, than of old."
[615]I will have no bogs, fens, marshes, vast woods, deserts, heaths,
commons, but all enclosed; (yet not depopulated, and therefore take heed
you mistake me not) for that which is common, and every man's, is no man's;
the richest countries are still enclosed, as Essex, Kent, with us, &c.
Spain, Italy; and where enclosures are least in quantity, they are best
[616]husbanded, as about Florence in Italy, Damascus in Syria, &c. which
are liker gardens than fields. I will not have a barren acre in all my
territories, not so much as the tops of mountains: where nature fails, it
shall be supplied by art: [617]lakes and rivers shall not be left desolate.
All common highways, bridges, banks, corrivations of waters, aqueducts,
channels, public works, buildings, &c. out of a [618]common stock,
curiously maintained and kept in repair; no depopulations, engrossings,
alterations of wood, arable, but by the consent of some supervisors that
shall be appointed for that purpose, to see what reformation ought to be
had in all places, what is amiss, how to help it, _et quid quaeque ferat
regio, et quid quaeque recuset_, what ground is aptest for wood, what for
corn, what for cattle, gardens, orchards, fishponds, &c. with a charitable
division in every village, (not one domineering house greedily to swallow
up all, which is too common with us) what for lords, [619]what for tenants;
and because they shall be better encouraged to improve such lands they
hold, manure, plant trees, drain, fence, &c. they shall have long leases, a
known rent, and known fine to free them from those intolerable exactions of
tyrannizing landlords. These supervisors shall likewise appoint what
quantity of land in each manor is fit for the lord's demesnes, [620]what
for holding of tenants, how it ought to be husbanded, _ut [621]magnetis
equis, Minyae gens cognita remis_, how to be manured, tilled, rectified,
[622]_hic segetes veniunt, illic felicius uvae, arborei foetus alibi, atque
injussa virescunt Gramina_, and what proportion is fit for all callings,
because private professors are many times idiots, ill husbands, oppressors,
covetous, and know not how to improve their own, or else wholly respect
their own, and not public good.

Utopian parity is a kind of government, to be wished for, [623]rather than
effected, _Respub. Christianopolitana_, Campanella's city of the Sun, and
that new Atlantis, witty fictions, but mere chimeras; and Plato's community
in many things is impious, absurd and ridiculous, it takes away all
splendour and magnificence. I will have several orders, degrees of
nobility, and those hereditary, not rejecting younger brothers in the mean
time, for they shall be sufficiently provided for by pensions, or so
qualified, brought up in some honest calling, they shall be able to live of
themselves. I will have such a proportion of ground belonging to every
barony, he that buys the land shall buy the barony, he that by riot
consumes his patrimony, and ancient demesnes, shall forfeit his honours.
[624]As some dignities shall be hereditary, so some again by election, or
by gift (besides free officers, pensions, annuities,) like our bishoprics,
prebends, the Bassa's palaces in Turkey, the [625]procurator's houses and
offices in Venice, which, like the golden apple, shall be given to the
worthiest, and best deserving both in war and peace, as a reward of their
worth and good service, as so many goals for all to aim at, (_honos alit
artes_) and encouragements to others. For I hate these severe, unnatural,
harsh, German, French, and Venetian decrees, which exclude plebeians from
honours, be they never so wise, rich, virtuous, valiant, and well
qualified, they must not be patricians, but keep their own rank, this is
_naturae bellum inferre_, odious to God and men, I abhor it. My form of
government shall be monarchical.

[626]  "nunquam libertas gratior extat,
        Quam sub Rege pio," &c.

few laws, but those severely kept, plainly put down, and in the mother
tongue, that every man may understand. Every city shall have a peculiar
trade or privilege, by which it shall be chiefly maintained: [627]and
parents shall teach their children one of three at least, bring up and
instruct them in the mysteries of their own trade. In each town these
several tradesmen shall be so aptly disposed, as they shall free the rest
from danger or offence: fire-trades, as smiths, forge-men, brewers, bakers,
metal-men, &c., shall dwell apart by themselves: dyers, tanners,
fellmongers, and such as use water in convenient places by themselves:
noisome or fulsome for bad smells, as butchers' slaughterhouses, chandlers,
curriers, in remote places, and some back lanes. Fraternities and
companies, I approve of, as merchants' bourses, colleges of druggists,
physicians, musicians, &c., but all trades to be rated in the sale of
wares, as our clerks of the market do bakers and brewers; corn itself, what
scarcity soever shall come, not to extend such a price. Of such wares as
are transported or brought in, [628]if they be necessary, commodious, and
such as nearly concern man's life, as corn, wood, coal, &c., and such
provision we cannot want, I will have little or no custom paid, no taxes;
but for such things as are for pleasure, delight, or ornament, as wine,
spice, tobacco, silk, velvet, cloth of gold, lace, jewels, &c., a greater
impost. I will have certain ships sent out for new discoveries every year,
[629]and some discreet men appointed to travel into all neighbouring
kingdoms by land, which shall observe what artificial inventions and good
laws are in other countries, customs, alterations, or aught else,
concerning war or peace, which may tend to the common good. Ecclesiastical
discipline, _penes Episcopos_, subordinate as the other. No impropriations,
no lay patrons of church livings, or one private man, but common societies,
corporations, &c., and those rectors of benefices to be chosen out of the
Universities, examined and approved, as the literati in China. No parish to
contain above a thousand auditors. If it were possible, I would have such
priest as should imitate Christ, charitable lawyers should love their
neighbours as themselves, temperate and modest physicians, politicians
contemn the world, philosophers should know themselves, noblemen live
honestly, tradesmen leave lying and cozening, magistrates corruption, &c.,
but this is impossible, I must get such as I may. I will therefore have
[630]of lawyers, judges, advocates, physicians, chirurgeons, &c., a set
number, [631]and every man, if it be possible, to plead his own cause, to
tell that tale to the judge which he doth to his advocate, as at Fez in
Africa, Bantam, Aleppo, Ragusa, _suam quisque causam dicere tenetur_. Those
advocates, chirurgeons, and [632]physicians, which are allowed to be
maintained out of the [633]common treasury, no fees to be given or taken
upon pain of losing their places; or if they do, very small fees, and when
the [634]cause is fully ended. [635]He that sues any man shall put in a
pledge, which if it be proved he hath wrongfully sued his adversary, rashly
or maliciously, he shall forfeit, and lose. Or else before any suit begin,
the plaintiff shall have his complaint approved by a set delegacy to that
purpose; if it be of moment he shall be suffered as before, to proceed, if
otherwise they shall determine it. All causes shall be pleaded _suppresso
nomine_, the parties' names concealed, if some circumstances do not
otherwise require. Judges and other officers shall be aptly disposed in
each province, villages, cities, as common arbitrators to hear causes, and
end all controversies, and those not single, but three at least on the
bench at once, to determine or give sentence, and those again to sit by
turns or lots, and not to continue still in the same office. No controversy
to depend above a year, but without all delays and further appeals to be
speedily despatched, and finally concluded in that time allotted. These and
all other inferior magistrates to be chosen [636]as the literati in China,
or by those exact suffrages of the [637]Venetians, and such again not to be
eligible, or capable of magistracies, honours, offices, except they be
sufficiently [638]qualified for learning, manners, and that by the strict
approbation of deputed examiners: [639]first scholars to take place, then
soldiers; for I am of Vigetius his opinion, a scholar deserves better than
a soldier, because _Unius aetatis sunt quae fortiter fiunt, quae vero pro
utilitate Reipub. scribuntur, aeterna_: a soldier's work lasts for an age,
a scholar's for ever. If they [640]misbehave themselves, they shall be
deposed, and accordingly punished, and whether their offices be annual
[641]or otherwise, once a year they shall be called in question, and give
an account; for men are partial and passionate, merciless, covetous,
corrupt, subject to love, hate, fear, favour, &c., _omne sub regno graviore
regnum_: like Solon's Areopagites, or those Roman Censors, some shall visit
others, and [642]be visited _invicem_ themselves, [643] they shall oversee
that no prowling officer, under colour of authority, shall insult over his
inferiors, as so many wild beasts, oppress, domineer, flea, grind, or
trample on, be partial or corrupt, but that there be _aequabile jus_,
justice equally done, live as friends and brethren together; and which
[644]Sesellius would have and so much desires in his kingdom of France, "a
diapason and sweet harmony of kings, princes, nobles, and plebeians so
mutually tied and involved in love, as well as laws and authority, as that
they never disagree, insult, or encroach one upon another." If any man
deserve well in his office he shall be rewarded.

        ------"quis enim virtutem amplectitur ipsam,
        Proemia si tollas?"------[645]

He that invents anything for public good in any art or science, writes a
treatise, [646]or performs any noble exploit, at home or abroad, [647]
shall be accordingly enriched, [648]honoured, and preferred. I say with
Hannibal in Ennius, _Hostem qui feriet erit mihi Carthaginensis_, let him
be of what condition he will, in all offices, actions, he that deserves
best shall have best.

Tilianus in Philonius, out of a charitable mind no doubt, wished all his
books were gold and silver, jewels and precious stones, [649]to redeem
captives, set free prisoners, and relieve all poor distressed souls that
wanted means; religiously done. I deny not, but to what purpose? Suppose
this were so well done, within a little after, though a man had Croesus'
wealth to bestow, there would be as many more. Wherefore I will suffer no
[650]beggars, rogues, vagabonds, or idle persons at all, that cannot give
an account of their lives how they [651]maintain themselves. If they be
impotent, lame, blind, and single, they shall be sufficiently maintained in
several hospitals, built for that purpose; if married and infirm, past
work, or by inevitable loss, or some such like misfortune cast behind, by
distribution of [652]corn, house-rent free, annual pensions or money, they
shall be relieved, and highly rewarded for their good service they have
formerly done; if able, they shall be enforced to work. [653]"For I see no
reason" (as [654]he said) "why an epicure or idle drone, a rich glutton, a
usurer, should live at ease, and do nothing, live in honour, in all manner
of pleasures, and oppress others, when as in the meantime a poor labourer,
a smith, a carpenter, an husbandman that hath spent his time in continual
labour, as an ass to carry burdens, to do the commonwealth good, and
without whom we cannot live, shall be left in his old age to beg or starve,
and lead a miserable life worse than a jument." As [655]all conditions
shall be tied to their task, so none shall be overtired, but have their set
times of recreations and holidays, _indulgere genio_, feasts and merry
meetings, even to the meanest artificer, or basest servant, once a week to
sing or dance, (though not all at once) or do whatsoever he shall please;
like [656]that _Saccarum festum_ amongst the Persians, those Saturnals in
Rome, as well as his master. [657]If any be drunk, he shall drink no more
wine or strong drink in a twelvemonth after. A bankrupt shall be [658]
_Catademiatus in Amphitheatro_, publicly shamed, and he that cannot pay his
debts, if by riot or negligence he have been impoverished, shall be for a
twelvemonth imprisoned, if in that space his creditors be not satisfied,
[659]he shall be hanged. He [660]that commits sacrilege shall lose his
hands; he that bears false witness, or is of perjury convicted, shall have
his tongue cut out, except he redeem it with his head. Murder, [661]
adultery, shall be punished by death, [662]but not theft, except it be some
more grievous offence, or notorious offenders: otherwise they shall be
condemned to the galleys, mines, be his slaves whom they have offended,
during their lives. I hate all hereditary slaves, and that _duram Persarum
legem_ as [663]Brisonius calls it; or as [664]Ammianus, _impendio
formidatas et abominandas leges, per quas ob noxam unius, omnis
propinquitas perit_ hard law that wife and children, friends and allies,
should suffer for the father's offence.

No man shall marry until he [665]be 25, no woman till she be 20, [666]
_nisi alitur dispensatum fuerit_. If one [667]die, the other party shall
not marry till six months after; and because many families are compelled to
live niggardly, exhaust and undone by great dowers, [668]none shall be
given at all, or very little, and that by supervisors rated, they that are
foul shall have a greater portion; if fair, none at all, or very little:
[669]howsoever not to exceed such a rate as those supervisors shall think
fit. And when once they come to those years, poverty shall hinder no man
from marriage, or any other respect, [670]but all shall be rather enforced
than hindered, [671]except they be [672]dismembered, or grievously
deformed, infirm, or visited with some enormous hereditary disease, in body
or mind; in such cases upon a great pain, or mulct, [673]man or woman shall
not marry, other order shall be taken for them to their content. If people
overabound, they shall be eased by [674]colonies.

[675]No man shall wear weapons in any city. The same attire shall be kept,
and that proper to several callings, by which they shall be distinguished.
[676]_Luxus funerum_ shall be taken away, that intempestive expense
moderated, and many others. Brokers, takers of pawns, biting usurers, I
will not admit; yet because _hic cum hominibus non cum diis agitur_, we
converse here with men, not with gods, and for the hardness of men's hearts
I will tolerate some kind of usury. [677]If we were honest, I confess, _si
probi essemus_, we should have no use of it, but being as it is, we must
necessarily admit it. Howsoever most divines contradict it, _dicimus
inficias, sed vox ea sola reperta est_, it must be winked at by
politicians. And yet some great doctors approve of it, Calvin, Bucer,
Zanchius, P. Martyr, because by so many grand lawyers, decrees of emperors,
princes' statutes, customs of commonwealths, churches' approbations it is
permitted, &c. I will therefore allow it. But to no private persons, nor to
every man that will, to orphans only, maids, widows, or such as by reason
of their age, sex, education, ignorance of trading, know not otherwise how
to employ it; and those so approved, not to let it out apart, but to bring
their money to a [678]common bank which shall be allowed in every city, as
in Genoa, Geneva, Nuremberg, Venice, at [679]5, 6, 7, not above 8 per
centum, as the supervisors, or _aerarii praefecti_ shall think fit.
[680]And as it shall not be lawful for each man to be an usurer that will,
so shall it not be lawful for all to take up money at use, not to prodigals
and spendthrifts, but to merchants, young tradesmen, such as stand in need,
or know honestly how to employ it, whose necessity, cause and condition the
said supervisors shall approve of.

I will have no private monopolies, to enrich one man, and beggar a
multitude, [681]multiplicity of offices, of supplying by deputies, weights
and measures, the same throughout, and those rectified by the _Primum
mobile_ and sun's motion, threescore miles to a degree according to
observation, 1000 geometrical paces to a mile, five foot to a pace, twelve
inches to a foot, &c. and from measures known it is an easy matter to
rectify weights, &c. to cast up all, and resolve bodies by algebra,
stereometry. I hate wars if they be not _ad populi salutem_ upon urgent
occasion, [682]_odimus accipitrim, quia semper vivit in armis_ [683]
offensive wars, except the cause be very just, I will not allow of. For I
do highly magnify that saying of Hannibal to Scipio, in [684]Livy, "It had
been a blessed thing for you and us, if God had given that mind to our
predecessors, that you had been content with Italy, we with Africa. For
neither Sicily nor Sardinia are worth such cost and pains, so many fleets
and armies, or so many famous Captains' lives." _Omnia prius tentanda_,
fair means shall first be tried. [685]_Peragit tranquilla potestas, Quod
violenta nequit_. I will have them proceed with all moderation: but hear
you, Fabius my general, not Minutius, _nam [686]qui Consilio nititur plus
hostibus nocet, quam qui sini animi ratione, viribus_: And in such wars to
abstain as much as is possible from [687]depopulations, burning of towns,
massacring of infants, &c. For defensive wars, I will have forces still
ready at a small warning, by land and sea, a prepared navy, soldiers _in
procinctu, et quam [688]Bonfinius apud Hungaros suos vult, virgam ferream_,
and money, which is _nerves belli_, still in a readiness, and a sufficient
revenue, a third part as in old [689]Rome and Egypt, reserved for the
commonwealth; to avoid those heavy taxes and impositions, as well to defray
this charge of wars, as also all other public defalcations, expenses, fees,
pensions, reparations, chaste sports, feasts, donaries, rewards, and
entertainments. All things in this nature especially I will have maturely
done, and with great [690]deliberation: _ne quid [691] temere, ne quid
remisse ac timide fiat; Sid quo feror hospes_? To prosecute the rest would
require a volume. _Manum de tabella_, I have been over tedious in this
subject; I could have here willingly ranged, but these straits wherein I am
included will not permit.

From commonwealths and cities, I will descend to families, which have as
many corsives and molestations, as frequent discontents as the rest. Great
affinity there is betwixt a political and economical body; they differ only
in magnitude and proportion of business (so Scaliger [692]writes) as they
have both likely the same period, as [693]Bodin and [694]Peucer hold, out
of Plato, six or seven hundred years, so many times they have the same
means of their vexation and overthrows; as namely, riot, a common ruin of
both, riot in building, riot in profuse spending, riot in apparel, &c. be
it in what kind soever, it produceth the same effects. A [695]chorographer
of ours speaking _obiter_ of ancient families, why they are so frequent in
the north, continue so long, are so soon extinguished in the south, and so
few, gives no other reason but this, _luxus omnia dissipavit_, riot hath
consumed all, fine clothes and curious buildings came into this island, as
he notes in his annals, not so many years since; _non sine dispendio
hospitalitatis_ to the decay of hospitality. Howbeit many times that word
is mistaken, and under the name of bounty and hospitality, is shrouded riot
and prodigality, and that which is commendable in itself well used, hath
been mistaken heretofore, is become by his abuse, the bane and utter ruin
of many a noble family. For some men live like the rich glutton, consuming
themselves and their substance by continual feasting and invitations, with
[696]Axilon in Homer, keep open house for all comers, giving entertainment
to such as visit them, [697]keeping a table beyond their means, and a
company of idle servants (though not so frequent as of old) are blown up on
a sudden; and as Actaeon was by his hounds, devoured by their kinsmen,
friends, and multitude of followers. [698]It is a wonder that Paulus Jovius
relates of our northern countries, what an infinite deal of meat we consume
on our tables; that I may truly say, 'tis not bounty, not hospitality, as
it is often abused, but riot and excess, gluttony and prodigality; a mere
vice; it brings in debt, want, and beggary, hereditary diseases, consumes
their fortunes, and overthrows the good temperature of their bodies. To
this I might here well add their inordinate expense in building, those
fantastical houses, turrets, walks, parks, &c. gaming, excess of pleasure,
and that prodigious riot in apparel, by which means they are compelled to
break up house, and creep into holes. Sesellius in his commonwealth of
[699]France, gives three reasons why the French nobility were so frequently
bankrupts: "First, because they had so many lawsuits and contentions one
upon another, which were tedious and costly; by which means it came to
pass, that commonly lawyers bought them out of their possessions. A second
cause was their riot, they lived beyond their means, and were therefore
swallowed up by merchants." (La Nove, a French writer, yields five reasons
of his countrymen's poverty, to the same effect almost, and thinks verily
if the gentry of France were divided into ten parts, eight of them would be
found much impaired, by sales, mortgages, and debts, or wholly sunk in
their estates.) "The last was immoderate excess in apparel, which consumed
their revenues." How this concerns and agrees with our present state, look
you. But of this elsewhere. As it is in a man's body, if either head,
heart, stomach, liver, spleen, or any one part be misaffected, all the rest
suffer with it: so is it with this economical body. If the head be naught,
a spendthrift, a drunkard, a whoremaster, a gamester, how shall the family
live at ease? [700]_Ipsa si cupiat solus servare, prorsus, non potest hanc
familiam_, as Demea said in the comedy, Safety herself cannot save it. A
good, honest, painful man many times hath a shrew to his wife, a sickly,
dishonest, slothful, foolish, careless woman to his mate, a proud, peevish
flirt, a liquorish, prodigal quean, and by that means all goes to ruin: or
if they differ in nature, he is thrifty, she spends all, he wise, she
sottish and soft; what agreement can there be? what friendship? Like that
of the thrush and swallow in Aesop, instead of mutual love, kind
compellations, whore and thief is heard, they fling stools at one another's
heads. [701]_Quae intemperies vexat hanc familiam_? All enforced marriages
commonly produce such effects, or if on their behalves it be well, as to
live and agree lovingly together, they may have disobedient and unruly
children, that take ill courses to disquiet them, [702]"their son is a
thief, a spendthrift, their daughter a whore;" a step [703]mother, or a
daughter-in-law distempers all; [704]or else for want of means, many
torturers arise, debts, dues, fees, dowries, jointures, legacies to be
paid, annuities issuing out, by means of which, they have not wherewithal
to maintain themselves in that pomp as their predecessors have done, bring
up or bestow their children to their callings, to their birth and quality,
[705]and will not descend to their present fortunes. Oftentimes, too, to
aggravate the rest, concur many other inconveniences, unthankful friends,
decayed friends, bad neighbours, negligent servants [706]_servi furaces,
Versipelles, callidi, occlusa sibi mille clavibus reserant, furtimque;
raptant, consumunt, liguriunt_; casualties, taxes, mulcts, chargeable
offices, vain expenses, entertainments, loss of stock, enmities,
emulations, frequent invitations, losses, suretyship, sickness, death of
friends, and that which is the gulf of all, improvidence, ill husbandry,
disorder and confusion, by which means they are drenched on a sudden in
their estates, and at unawares precipitated insensibly into an inextricable
labyrinth of debts, cares, woes, want, grief, discontent and melancholy

I have done with families, and will now briefly run over some few sorts and
conditions of men. The most secure, happy, jovial, and merry in the world's
esteem are princes and great men, free from melancholy: but for their
cares, miseries, suspicions, jealousies, discontents, folly and madness, I
refer you to Xenophon's Tyrannus, where king Hieron discourseth at large
with Simonides the poet, of this subject. Of all others they are most
troubled with perpetual fears, anxieties, insomuch, that as he said in
[707]Valerius, if thou knewest with what cares and miseries this robe were
stuffed, thou wouldst not stoop to take it up. Or put case they be secure
and free from fears and discontents, yet they are void [708]of reason too
oft, and precipitate in their actions, read all our histories, _quos de
stultis prodidere stulti_, Iliades, Aeneides, Annales, and what is the

       "Stultorum regum, et populorum continet aestus."

       "The giddy tumults and the foolish rage
        Of kings and people."

How mad they are, how furious, and upon small occasions, rash and
inconsiderate in their proceedings, how they dote, every page almost will

        ------"delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi."

       "When doting monarchs urge
        Unsound resolves, their subjects feel the scourge."

Next in place, next in miseries and discontents, in all manner of
hair-brain actions, are great men, _procul a Jove, procul a fulmine_, the
nearer the worse. If they live in court, they are up and down, ebb and flow
with their princes' favours, _Ingenium vultu statque caditque suo_, now
aloft, tomorrow down, as [709]Polybius describes them, "like so many
casting counters, now of gold, tomorrow of silver, that vary in worth as
the computant will; now they stand for units, tomorrow for thousands; now
before all, and anon behind." Beside, they torment one another with mutual
factions, emulations: one is ambitious, another enamoured, a third in debt,
a prodigal, overruns his fortunes, a fourth solicitous with cares, gets
nothing, &c. But for these men's discontents, anxieties, I refer you to
Lucian's Tract, _de mercede conductis_, [710]Aeneas Sylvius (_libidinis et
stultitiae servos_, he calls them), Agrippa, and many others.

Of philosophers and scholars _priscae sapientiae dictatores_, I have
already spoken in general terms, those superintendents of wit and learning,
men above men, those refined men, minions of the muses,

[711]   ------"mentemque habere queis bonam
        Et esse [712]corculis datum est."------

[713]These acute and subtle sophisters, so much honoured, have as much need
of hellebore as others.--[714]_O medici mediam pertundite venam._ Read
Lucian's Piscator, and tell how he esteemed them; Agrippa's Tract of the
vanity of Sciences; nay read their own works, their absurd tenets,
prodigious paradoxes, _et risum teneatis amici_? You shall find that of
Aristotle true, _nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae_, they have
a worm as well as others; you shall find a fantastical strain, a fustian, a
bombast, a vainglorious humour, an affected style, &c., like a prominent
thread in an uneven woven cloth, run parallel throughout their works. And
they that teach wisdom, patience, meekness, are the veriest dizzards,
harebrains, and most discontent. [715]"In the multitude of wisdom is grief,
and he that increaseth wisdom, increaseth sorrow." I need not quote mine
author; they that laugh and contemn others, condemn the world of folly,
deserve to be mocked, are as giddy-headed, and lie as open as any other.
[716]Democritus, that common flouter of folly, was ridiculous himself,
barking Menippus, scoffing Lucian, satirical Lucilius, Petronius, Varro,
Persius, &c., may be censured with the rest, _Loripedem rectus derideat,
Aethiopem albus._ Bale, Erasmus, Hospinian, Vives, Kemnisius, explode as a
vast ocean of obs and sols, school divinity. [717]A labyrinth of intricable
questions, unprofitable contentions, _incredibilem delirationem_, one calls
it. If school divinity be so censured, _subtilis [718]Scotus lima
veritatis, Occam irrefragabilis, cujus ingenium vetera omnia ingenia
subvertit_, &c. Baconthrope, Dr. Resolutus, and _Corculum Theolgiae_,
Thomas himself, Doctor [719]Seraphicus, _cui dictavit Angelus_, &c. What
shall become of humanity? _Ars stulta_, what can she plead? what can her
followers say for themselves? Much learning, [720] _cere-diminuit-brum_,
hath cracked their sconce, and taken such root, that _tribus Anticyris
caput insanabile_, hellebore itself can do no good, nor that renowned
[721]lantern of Epictetus, by which if any man studied, he should be as
wise as he was. But all will not serve; rhetoricians, _in ostentationem
loquacitatis multa agitant_, out of their volubility of tongue, will talk
much to no purpose, orators can persuade other men what they will, _quo
volunt, unde volunt_, move, pacify, &c., but cannot settle their own
brains, what saith Tully? _Malo indisertam prudentiam, quam loquacem,
stultitiam_; and as [722]Seneca seconds him, a wise man's oration should
not be polite or solicitous. [723]Fabius esteems no better of most of them,
either in speech, action, gesture, than as men beside themselves, _insanos
declamatores_; so doth Gregory, _Non mihi sapit qui sermone, sed qui factis
sapit._ Make the best of him, a good orator is a turncoat, an evil man,
_bonus orator pessimus vir_, his tongue is set to sale, he is a mere voice,
as [724]he said of a nightingale, _dat sine mente sonum_, an hyperbolical
liar, a flatterer, a parasite, and as [725] Ammianus Marcellinus will, a
corrupting cozener, one that doth more mischief by his fair speeches, than
he that bribes by money; for a man may with more facility avoid him that
circumvents by money, than him that deceives with glozing terms; which made
[726]Socrates so much abhor and explode them. [727]Fracastorius, a famous
poet, freely grants all poets to be mad; so doth [728]Scaliger; and who
doth not? _Aut insanit homo, aut versus facit_ (He's mad or making verses),
Hor. _Sat. vii. l. 2._ _Insanire lubet, i. versus componere._ Virg. _3
Ecl._; so Servius interprets it, all poets are mad, a company of bitter
satirists, detractors, or else parasitical applauders: and what is poetry
itself, but as Austin holds, _Vinum erroris ab ebriis doctoribus
propinatum_? You may give that censure of them in general, which Sir Thomas
More once did of Germanus Brixius' poems in particular.

        In rate stultitiae sylvam habitant Furiae."[729]

Budaeus, in an epistle of his to Lupsetus, will have civil law to be the
tower of wisdom; another honours physic, the quintessence of nature; a
third tumbles them both down, and sets up the flag of his own peculiar
science. Your supercilious critics, grammatical triflers, note-makers,
curious antiquaries, find out all the ruins of wit, _ineptiarum delicias_,
amongst the rubbish of old writers; [730]_Pro stultis habent nisi aliquid
sufficiant invenire, quod in aliorum scriptis vertant vitio_, all fools
with them that cannot find fault; they correct others, and are hot in a
cold cause, puzzle themselves to find out how many streets in Rome, houses,
gates, towers, Homer's country, Aeneas's mother, Niobe's daughters, _an
Sappho publica fuerit? ovum [731]prius extiterit an gallina! &c. et alia
quae dediscenda essent scire, si scires_, as [732]Seneca holds. What
clothes the senators did wear in Rome, what shoes, how they sat, where they
went to the close-stool, how many dishes in a mess, what sauce, which for
the present for an historian to relate, [733]according to Lodovic. Vives,
is very ridiculous, is to them most precious elaborate stuff, they admired
for it, and as proud, as triumphant in the meantime for this discovery, as
if they had won a city, or conquered a province; as rich as if they had
found a mine of gold ore. _Quosvis auctores absurdis commentis suis
percacant et stercorant_, one saith, they bewray and daub a company of
books and good authors, with their absurd comments, _correctorum
sterquilinia_ [734]Scaliger calls them, and show their wit in censuring
others, a company of foolish note-makers, humble-bees, dors, or beetles,
_inter stercora ut plurimum versantur_, they rake over all those rubbish
and dunghills, and prefer a manuscript many times before the Gospel itself,
[735]_thesaurum criticum_, before any treasure, and with their deleaturs,
_alii legunt sic, meus codex sic habet_, with their _postremae editiones_,
annotations, castigations, &c. make books dear, themselves ridiculous, and
do nobody good, yet if any man dare oppose or contradict, they are mad, up
in arms on a sudden, how many sheets are written in defence, how bitter
invectives, what apologies? [736]_Epiphilledes hae sunt ut merae, nugae_.
But I dare say no more of, for, with, or against them, because I am liable
to their lash as well as others. Of these and the rest of our artists and
philosophers, I will generally conclude they are a kind of madmen, as [737]
Seneca esteems of them, to make doubts and scruples, how to read them
truly, to mend old authors, but will not mend their own lives, or teach us
_ingevia sanare, memoriam officiorum ingerere, ac fidem in rebus humanis
retinere_, to keep our wits in order, or rectify our manners. _Numquid tibi
demens videtur, si istis operam impenderit_? Is not he mad that draws lines
with Archimedes, whilst his house is ransacked, and his city besieged, when
the whole world is in combustion, or we whilst our souls are in danger,
(_mors sequitur, vita fugit_) to spend our time in toys, idle questions,
and things of no worth?

That [738]lovers are mad, I think no man will deny, _Amare simul et sapere,
ipsi Jovi non datur_, Jupiter himself cannot intend both at once.

[739]  "Non bene conveniunt, nec in una sede morantur
        Majestas et amor."

Tully, when he was invited to a second marriage, replied, he could not
_simul amare et sapere_ be wise and love both together. [740]_Est orcus
ille, vis est immedicabilis, est rabies insana_, love is madness, a hell,
an incurable disease; _inpotentem et insanam libidinem_ [741]Seneca calls
it, an impotent and raging lust. I shall dilate this subject apart; in the
meantime let lovers sigh out the rest.

[742]Nevisanus the lawyer holds it for an axiom, "most women are fools,"
[743]_consilium foeminis invalidum_; Seneca, men, be they young or old; who
doubts it, youth is mad as Elius in Tully, _Stulti adolescentuli_, old age
little better, _deleri senes_, &c. Theophrastes, in the 107th year of his
age, [744]said he then began to be to wise, _tum sapere coepit_, and
therefore lamented his departure. If wisdom come so late, where shall we
find a wise man? Our old ones dote at threescore-and-ten. I would cite more
proofs, and a better author, but for the present, let one fool point at
another. [745]Nevisanus hath as hard an opinion of [746]rich men, "wealth
and wisdom cannot dwell together," _stultitiam patiuntur opes_, [747]and
they do commonly [748]_infatuare cor hominis_, besot men; and as we see it,
"fools have fortune:" [749]_Sapientia non invenitur in terra suaviter
viventium_. For beside a natural contempt of learning, which accompanies
such kind of men, innate idleness (for they will take no pains), and which
[750]Aristotle observes, _ubi mens plurima, ibi minima fortuna, ubi plurima
fortuna, ibi mens perexigua_, great wealth and little wit go commonly
together: they have as much brains some of them in their heads as in their
heels; besides this inbred neglect of liberal sciences, and all arts, which
should _excolere mentem_, polish the mind, they have most part some gullish
humour or other, by which they are led; one is an Epicure, an Atheist, a
second a gamester, a third a whoremaster (fit subjects all for a satirist
to work upon);

[751]  "Hic nuptarum insanit amoribus, hic puerorum."

       "One burns to madness for the wedded dame;
        Unnatural lusts another's heart inflame."

[752]one is mad of hawking, hunting, cocking; another of carousing,
horse-riding, spending; a fourth of building, fighting, &c., _Insanit
veteres statuas Damasippus emendo_, Damasippus hath an humour of his own,
to be talked of: [753]Heliodorus the Carthaginian another. In a word, as
Scaliger concludes of them all, they are _Statuae erectae stultitiae_, the
very statutes or pillars of folly. Choose out of all stories him that hath
been most admired, you shall still find, _multa ad laudem, multa ad
vituperationem magnifica_, as [754]Berosus of Semiramis; _omnes mortales
militia triumphis, divitiis_, &c., _tum et luxu, caede, caeterisque vitiis
antecessit_, as she had some good, so had she many bad parts.

Alexander, a worthy man, but furious in his anger, overtaken in drink:
Caesar and Scipio valiant and wise, but vainglorious, ambitious: Vespasian
a worthy prince, but covetous: [755]Hannibal, as he had mighty virtues, so
had he many vices; _unam virtutem mille vitia comitantur_, as Machiavel of
Cosmo de Medici, he had two distinct persons in him. I will determine of
them all, they are like these double or turning pictures; stand before
which you see a fair maid, on the one side an ape, on the other an owl;
look upon them at the first sight, all is well, but farther examine, you
shall find them wise on the one side, and fools on the other; in some few
things praiseworthy, in the rest incomparably faulty. I will say nothing of
their diseases, emulations, discontents, wants, and such miseries: let
poverty plead the rest in Aristophanes' Plutus.

Covetous men, amongst others, are most mad, [756]they have all the symptoms
of melancholy, fear, sadness, suspicion, &c., as shall be proved in its
proper place,

       "Danda est Hellebori multo pars maxima avaris."

       "Misers make Anticyra their own;
        Its hellebore reserved for them alone."

And yet methinks prodigals are much madder than they, be of what condition
they will, that bear a public or private purse; as a [757]Dutch writer
censured Richard the rich duke of Cornwall, suing to be emperor, for his
profuse spending, _qui effudit pecuniam, ante pedes principium Electorum
sicut aquam_, that scattered money like water; I do censure them, _Stulta
Anglia_ (saith he) _quae, tot denariis sponte est privata, stulti principes
Alemaniae, qui nobile jus suum pro pecunia vendiderunt_; spendthrifts,
bribers, and bribe-takers are fools, and so are [758]all they that cannot
keep, disburse, or spend their moneys well.

I might say the like of angry, peevish, envious, ambitious; [759]
_Anticyras melior sorbere meracas_; Epicures, Atheists, Schismatics,
Heretics; _hi omnes habent imaginationem laesam_ (saith Nymannus) "and
their madness shall be evident," 2 Tim. iii. 9. [760]Fabatus, an Italian,
holds seafaring men all mad; "the ship is mad, for it never stands still;
the mariners are mad, to expose themselves to such imminent dangers: the
waters are raging mad, in perpetual motion: the winds are as mad as the
rest, they know not whence they come, whither they would go: and those men
are maddest of all that go to sea; for one fool at home, they find forty
abroad." He was a madman that said it, and thou peradventure as mad to read
it. [761] Felix Platerus is of opinion all alchemists are mad, out of their
wits; [762]Atheneus saith as much of fiddlers, _et musarum luscinias_,
[763] Musicians, _omnes tibicines insaniunt, ubi semel efflant, avolat
illico mens_, in comes music at one ear, out goes wit at another. Proud and
vainglorious persons are certainly mad; and so are [764]lascivious; I can
feel their pulses beat hither; horn-mad some of them, to let others lie
with their wives, and wink at it.

To insist [765]in all particulars, were an Herculean task, to [766]reckon
up [767]_insanas substructiones, insanos labores, insanum luxum_, mad
labours, mad books, endeavours, carriages, gross ignorance, ridiculous
actions, absurd gestures; _insanam gulam, insaniam villarum, insana
jurgia_, as Tully terms them, madness of villages, stupend structures; as
those Egyptian Pyramids, Labyrinths and Sphinxes, which a company of
crowned asses, _ad ostentationem opum_, vainly built, when neither the
architect nor king that made them, or to what use and purpose, are yet
known: to insist in their hypocrisy, inconstancy, blindness, rashness,
_dementem temeritatem_, fraud, cozenage, malice, anger, impudence,
ingratitude, ambition, gross superstition, [768]_tempora infecta et
adulatione sordida_, as in Tiberius' times, such base flattery, stupend,
parasitical fawning and colloguing, &c. brawls, conflicts, desires,
contentions, it would ask an expert Vesalius to anatomise every member.
Shall I say? Jupiter himself, Apollo, Mars, &c. doted; and
monster-conquering Hercules that subdued the world, and helped others,
could not relieve himself in this, but mad he was at last. And where shall
a man walk, converse with whom, in what province, city, and not meet with
Signior Deliro, or Hercules Furens, Maenads, and Corybantes? Their speeches
say no less. [769]_E fungis nati homines_, or else they fetched their
pedigree from those that were struck by Samson with the jaw-bone of an ass.
Or from Deucalion and Pyrrha's stones, for _durum genus sumus_, [770]
_marmorei sumus_, we are stony-hearted, and savour too much of the stock,
as if they had all heard that enchanted horn of Astolpho, that English duke
in Ariosto, which never sounded but all his auditors were mad, and for fear
ready to make away with themselves; [771]or landed in the mad haven in the
Euxine sea of _Daphnis insana_, which had a secret quality to dementate;
they are a company of giddy-heads, afternoon men, it is Midsummer moon
still, and the dog-days last all the year long, they are all mad. Whom
shall I then except? Ulricus Huttenus [772]_nemo, nam, nemo omnibus horis
sapit, Nemo nascitur sine vitiis, Crimine Nemo caret, Nemo sorte sua vivit
contentus, Nemo in amore sapit, Nemo bonus, Nemo sapiens, Nemo, est ex omni
parti beatus_, &c. [773]and therefore Nicholas Nemo, or Monsieur Nobody
shall go free, _Quid valeat nemo, Nemo referre potest_? But whom shall I
except in the second place? such as are silent, _vir sapit qui pauca
loquitur_; [774]no better way to avoid folly and madness, than by
taciturnity. Whom in a third? all senators, magistrates; for all fortunate
men are wise, and conquerors valiant, and so are all great men, _non est
bonum ludere cum diis_, they are wise by authority, good by their office
and place, _his licet impune pessimos esse_, (some say) we must not speak
of them, neither is it fit; _per me sint omnia protinus alba_, I will not
think amiss of them. Whom next? Stoics? _Sapiens Stoicus_, and he alone is
subject to no perturbations, as [775]Plutarch scoffs at him, "he is not
vexed with torments, or burnt with fire, foiled by his adversary, sold of
his enemy: though he be wrinkled, sand-blind, toothless, and deformed; yet
he is most beautiful, and like a god, a king in conceit, though not worth a
groat. He never dotes, never mad, never sad, drunk, because virtue cannot
be taken away," as [776]Zeno holds, "by reason of strong apprehension," but
he was mad to say so. [777]_Anticyrae caelo huic est opus aut dolabra_, he
had need to be bored, and so had all his fellows, as wise as they would
seem to be. Chrysippus himself liberally grants them to be fools as well as
others, at certain times, upon some occasions, _amitti virtutem ait per
ebrietatem, aut atribilarium morbum_, it may be lost by drunkenness or
melancholy, he may be sometimes crazed as well as the rest: [778]_ad summum
sapiens nisi quum pituita molesta_. I should here except some Cynics,
Menippus, Diogenes, that Theban Crates; or to descend to these times, that
omniscious, only wise fraternity [779]of the Rosicrucians, those great
theologues, politicians, philosophers, physicians, philologers, artists,
&c. of whom S. Bridget, Albas Joacchimus, Leicenbergius, and such divine
spirits have prophesied, and made promise to the world, if at least there
be any such (Hen. [780]Neuhusius makes a doubt of it, [781] Valentinus
Andreas and others) or an Elias artifex their Theophrastian master; whom
though Libavius and many deride and carp at, yet some will have to be "the
[782]renewer of all arts and sciences," reformer of the world, and now
living, for so Johannes Montanus Strigoniensis, that great patron of
Paracelsus, contends, and certainly avers [783]"a most divine man," and the
quintessence of wisdom wheresoever he is; for he, his fraternity, friends,
&c. are all [784]"betrothed to wisdom," if we may believe their disciples
and followers. I must needs except Lipsius and the Pope, and expunge their
name out of the catalogue of fools. For besides that parasitical testimony
of Dousa,

       "A Sole exoriente Maeotidas usque paludes,
        Nemo est qui justo se aequiparare queat."[785]

Lipsius saith of himself, that he was [786]_humani generis quidem
paedagogus voce et stylo_, a grand signior, a master, a tutor of us all,
and for thirteen years he brags how he sowed wisdom in the Low Countries,
as Ammonius the philosopher sometimes did in Alexandria, [787]_cum
humanitate literas et sapientiam cum prudentia: antistes sapientiae_, he
shall be _Sapientum Octavus_. The Pope is more than a man, as [788]his
parrots often make him, a demigod, and besides his holiness cannot err, _in
Cathedra_ belike: and yet some of them have been magicians, Heretics,
Atheists, children, and as Platina saith of John 22, _Et si vir literatus,
multa stoliditatem et laevitatem prae se ferentia egit, stolidi et socordis
vir ingenii_, a scholar sufficient, yet many things he did foolishly,
lightly. I can say no more than in particular, but in general terms to the
rest, they are all mad, their wits are evaporated, and, as Ariosto feigns,
_l. 34_, kept in jars above the moon.

       "Some lose their wits with love, some with ambition,
        Some following [789]Lords and men of high condition.
        Some in fair jewels rich and costly set,
        Others in Poetry their wits forget.
        Another thinks to be an Alchemist,
        Till all be spent, and that his number's mist."

Convicted fools they are, madmen upon record; and I am afraid past cure
many of them, [790]_crepunt inguina_, the symptoms are manifest, they are
all of Gotam parish:

[791]  "Quum furor haud dubius, quum sit manifesta phrenesis,"

       "Since madness is indisputable, since frenzy is obvious."

what remains then [792]but to send for Lorarios, those officers to carry
them all together for company to Bedlam, and set Rabelais to be their

If any man shall ask in the meantime, who I am that so boldly censure
others, _tu nullane habes vitia_? have I no faults? [793]Yes, more than
thou hast, whatsoever thou art. _Nos numerus sumus_, I confess it again, I
am as foolish, as mad as any one.

[794]  "Insanus vobis videor, non deprecor ipse,
        Quo minus insanus,"------

I do not deny it, _demens de populo dematur_. My comfort is, I have more
fellows, and those of excellent note. And though I be not so right or so
discreet as I should be, yet not so mad, so bad neither, as thou perhaps
takest me to be.

To conclude, this being granted, that all the world is melancholy, or mad,
dotes, and every member of it, I have ended my task, and sufficiently
illustrated that which I took upon me to demonstrate at first. At this
present I have no more to say; _His sanam mentem Democritus_, I can but
wish myself and them a good physician, and all of us a better mind.

And although for the above-named reasons, I had a just cause to undertake
this subject, to point at these particular species of dotage, that so men
might acknowledge their imperfections, and seek to reform what is amiss;
yet I have a more serious intent at this time; and to omit all impertinent
digressions, to say no more of such as are improperly melancholy, or
metaphorically mad, lightly mad, or in disposition, as stupid, angry,
drunken, silly, sottish, sullen, proud, vainglorious, ridiculous, beastly,
peevish, obstinate, impudent, extravagant, dry, doting, dull, desperate,
harebrain, &c. mad, frantic, foolish, heteroclites, which no new [795]
hospital can hold, no physic help; my purpose and endeavour is, in the
following discourse to anatomise this humour of melancholy, through all its
parts and species, as it is an habit, or an ordinary disease, and that
philosophically, medicinally, to show the causes, symptoms, and several
cures of it, that it may be the better avoided. Moved thereunto for the
generality of it, and to do good, it being a disease so frequent, as [796]
Mercurialis observes, "in these our days; so often happening," saith [797]
Laurentius, "in our miserable times," as few there are that feel not the
smart of it. Of the same mind is Aelian Montaltus, [798]Melancthon, and
others; [799]Julius Caesar Claudinus calls it the "fountain of all other
diseases, and so common in this crazed age of ours, that scarce one of a
thousand is free from it;" and that splenetic hypochondriacal wind
especially, which proceeds from the spleen and short ribs. Being then a
disease so grievous, so common, I know not wherein to do a more general
service, and spend my time better, than to prescribe means how to prevent
and cure so universal a malady, an epidemical disease, that so often, so
much crucifies the body and mind.

If I have overshot myself in this which hath been hitherto said, or that it
is, which I am sure some will object, too fantastical, "too light and
comical for a Divine, too satirical for one of my profession," I will
presume to answer with [800]Erasmus, in like case, 'tis not I, but
Democritus, Democritus _dixit_: you must consider what it is to speak in
one's own or another's person, an assumed habit and name; a difference
betwixt him that affects or acts a prince's, a philosopher's, a
magistrate's, a fool's part, and him that is so indeed; and what liberty
those old satirists have had; it is a cento collected from others; not I,
but they that say it.

[801]  "Dixero si quid forte jocosius, hoc mihi juris
        Cum venia, dabis"------

       "Yet some indulgence I may justly claim,
        If too familiar with another's fame."

Take heed you mistake me not. If I do a little forget myself, I hope you
will pardon it. And to say truth, why should any man be offended, or take
exceptions at it?

       "Licuit, semperque licebit,
        Parcere personis, dicere de vitiis."

       "It lawful was of old, and still will be,
        To speak of vice, but let the name go free."

I hate their vices, not their persons. If any be displeased, or take aught
unto himself, let him not expostulate or cavil with him that said it (so
did [802]Erasmus excuse himself to Dorpius, _si parva licet componere
magnis_) and so do I; "but let him be angry with himself, that so betrayed
and opened his own faults in applying it to himself:" [803]"if he be guilty
and deserve it, let him amend, whoever he is, and not be angry." "He that
hateth correction is a fool," Prov. xii. 1. If he be not guilty, it
concerns him not; it is not my freeness of speech, but a guilty conscience,
a galled back of his own that makes him wince.

       "Suspicione si quis errabit sua,
        Et rapiet ad se, quod erit commune omnium,
        Stulte nudabit animi conscientiam."[804]

I deny not this which I have said savours a little of Democritus; [805]
_Quamvis ridentem dicere verum quid velat_; one may speak in jest, and yet
speak truth. It is somewhat tart, I grant it; _acriora orexim excitant
embammata_, as he said, sharp sauces increase appetite, [806]_nec cibus
ipse juvat morsu fraudatus aceti_. Object then and cavil what thou wilt, I
ward all with [807]Democritus's buckler, his medicine shall salve it;
strike where thou wilt, and when: _Democritus dixit_, Democritus will
answer it. It was written by an idle fellow, at idle times, about our
Saturnalian or Dionysian feasts, when as he said, _nullum libertati
periculum est_, servants in old Rome had liberty to say and do what them
list. When our countrymen sacrificed to their goddess [808]Vacuna, and sat
tippling by their Vacunal fires. I writ this, and published this [Greek:
houtis helegen], it is _neminis nihil_. The time, place, persons, and all
circumstances apologise for me, and why may not I then be idle with others?
speak my mind freely? If you deny me this liberty, upon these presumptions
I will take it: I say again, I will take it.

[809]  "Si quis est qui dictum in se inclementius
        Existimavit esse, sic existimet."

If any man take exceptions, let him turn the buckle of his girdle, I care
not. I owe thee nothing (Reader), I look for no favour at thy hands, I am
independent, I fear not.

No, I recant, I will not, I care, I fear, I confess my fault, acknowledge a
great offence,

        ------"motos praestat componere fluctus."

        ------"let's first assuage the troubled waves"

I have overshot myself, I have spoken foolishly, rashly, unadvisedly,
absurdly, I have anatomised mine own folly. And now methinks upon a sudden
I am awaked as it were out of a dream; I have had a raving fit, a
fantastical fit, ranged up and down, in and out, I have insulted over the
most kind of men, abused some, offended others, wronged myself; and now
being recovered, and perceiving mine error, cry with [810]Orlando, _Solvite
me_, pardon (_o boni_) that which is past, and I will make you amends in
that which is to come; I promise you a more sober discourse in my following

If through weakness, folly, passion, [811]discontent, ignorance, I have
said amiss, let it be forgotten and forgiven. I acknowledge that of [812]
Tacitus to be true, _Asperae facetiae, ubi nimis ex vero traxere, acrem sui
memoriam relinquunt_, a bitter jest leaves a sting behind it: and as an
honourable man observes, [813]"They fear a satirist's wit, he their
memories." I may justly suspect the worst; and though I hope I have wronged
no man, yet in Medea's words I will crave pardon,

        ------"Illud jam voce extrema peto,
        Ne si qua noster dubius effudit dolor,
        Maneant in animo verba, sed melior tibi
        Memoria nostri subeat, haec irae data

       "And in my last words this I do desire,
        That what in passion I have said, or ire,
        May be forgotten, and a better mind,
        Be had of us, hereafter as you find."

I earnestly request every private man, as Scaliger did Cardan, not to take
offence. I will conclude in his lines, _Si me cognitum haberes, non solum
donares nobis has facetias nostras, sed etiam indignum duceres, tam humanum
aninum, lene ingenium, vel minimam suspicionem deprecari oportere_. If thou
knewest my [814]modesty and simplicity, thou wouldst easily pardon and
forgive what is here amiss, or by thee misconceived. If hereafter
anatomizing this surly humour, my hand slip, as an unskilful 'prentice I
lance too deep, and cut through skin and all at unawares, make it smart, or
cut awry, [815]pardon a rude hand, an unskilful knife, 'tis a most
difficult thing to keep an even tone, a perpetual tenor, and not sometimes
to lash out; _difficile est Satyram non scribere_, there be so many objects
to divert, inward perturbations to molest, and the very best may sometimes
err; _aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus_ (some times that excellent Homer
takes a nap), it is impossible not in so much to overshoot;--_opere in
longo fas est obrepere, summum_. But what needs all this? I hope there will
no such cause of offence be given; if there be, [816]_Nemo aliquid
recognoscat, nos mentimur omnia_. I'll deny all (my last refuge), recant
all, renounce all I have said, if any man except, and with as much facility
excuse, as he can accuse; but I presume of thy good favour, and gracious
acceptance (gentle reader). Out of an assured hope and confidence thereof,
I will begin.


Tu vero cavesis edico quisquis es, ne temere sugilles Auctorem hujusce
operis, aut cavillator irrideas. Imo ne vel ex aliorum censura tacite
obloquaris (vis dicam verbo) nequid nasutulus inepte improbes, aut falso
fingas. Nam si talis revera sit, qualem prae se fert Junior Democritus,
seniori Democrito saltem affinis, aut ejus Genium vel tantillum sapiat;
actum de te, censorem aeque ac delatorem [817]aget econtra (_petulanti
splene cum sit_) sufflabit te in jocos, comminuet in sales, addo etiam, _et
deo risui_ te sacrificabit.

Iterum moneo, ne quid cavillere, ne dum Democritum Juniorem conviciis
infames, aut ignominiose vituperes, de te non male sentientem, tu idem
audias ab amico cordato, quod olim vulgus Abderitanum ab [818] Hippocrate,
concivem bene meritum et popularem suum Democritum, pro insano habens. _Ne
tu Democrite sapis, stulti autem et insani Abderitae_.

[819]  "Abderitanae pectora plebis habes."

Haec te paucis admonitum volo (male feriate Lector) abi.


Whoever you may be, I caution you against rashly defaming the author of
this work, or cavilling in jest against him. Nay, do not silently reproach
him in consequence of others' censure, nor employ your wit in foolish
disapproval, or false accusation. For, should Democritus Junior prove to be
what he professes, even a kinsman of his elder namesake, or be ever so
little of the same kidney, it is all over with you: he will become both
accuser and judge of you in your spleen, will dissipate you in jests,
pulverise you into salt, and sacrifice you, I can promise you, to the God
of Mirth.

I further advise you, not to asperse, or calumniate, or slander, Democritus
Junior, who possibly does not think ill of you, lest you may hear from some
discreet friend, the same remark the people of Abdera did from Hippocrates,
of their meritorious and popular fellow-citizen, whom they had looked on as
a madman; "It is not that you, Democritus, that art wise, but that the
people of Abdera are fools and madmen." "You have yourself an Abderitian
soul;" and having just given you, gentle reader, these few words of
admonition, farewell.

       "Heraclite fleas, misero sic convenit aevo,
          Nil nisi turpe vides, nil nisi triste vides.
        Ride etiam, quantumque lubet, Democrite ride
          Non nisi vana vides, non nisi stulta vides.
        Is fletu, his risu modo gaudeat, unus utrique
          Sit licet usque labor, sit licet usque dolor.
        Nunc opes est (nam totus eheu jam desipit orbis)
          Mille Heraclitis, milleque Democritis.
        Nunc opus est (tanta est insania) transeat omnis
          Mundus in Anticyras, gramen in Helleborum."

       "Weep, O Heraclitus, it suits the age,
          Unless you see nothing base, nothing sad.
        Laugh, O Democritus, as much as you please,
          Unless you see nothing either vain or foolish.
        Let one rejoice in smiles, the other in tears;
          Let the same labour or pain be the office of both.
        Now (for alas! how foolish the world has become),
          A thousand Heraclitus', a thousand Democritus' are required.
        Now (so much does madness prevail), all the world must be
          Sent to Anticyra, to graze on Hellebore."


In diseases, consider _Sect. 1. Memb. 1._

  Their Causes. _Subs. 1._

          Sin, concupiscence, &c.

          Intemperance, all second causes, &c.

  Or Definition, Member, Division. _Subs. 2._

      Of the body 300, which are
          Epidemical, as Plague, Plica, &c.
          Or Particular as Gout, Dropsy, &c.

      Or Of the head or mind. _Subs. 3._
          In disposition; as all perturbations, evil affection, &c.
          Or Habits, as _Subs. 4._
              Chorus sancti Viti.
              Possession or obsession of Devils.
              Melancholy. See [Symbol: Aries].

[Symbol: Aries] Melancholy: in which consider

  Its Equivocations, in Disposition, Improper, &c. _Subsect. 5._

  _Memb. 2._
  To its explication, a digression of anatomy, in which observe parts of
  _Subs. 1._
      Body hath parts _Subs. 2._
          contained as
              Humours, 4. Blood, Phlegm, &c.
              Spirits; vital, natural, animal.

          or containing
              Similar; spermatical, or flesh, bones, nerves, &c. _Subs. 3._
              Dissimilar; brain, heart, liver, &c. _Subs. 4._

      Soul and its faculties, as
          Vegetal. _Subs. 5._
          Sensible. _Subs. 6, 7, 8._
          Rational. _Subsect. 9, 10, 11._

  _Memb. 3._
  Its definition, name, difference, _Subs. 1._
  The part and parties affected, affection, &c. _Subs. 2._
  The matter of melancholy, natural, &c. _Subs. 3._
  Species, or kinds [_Subs. 4._], which are
      Proper to parts, as
          Of the head alone, hypochondriacal, or windy melancholy. Of the
            whole body.
              with their several causes, symptoms, prognostics, cures

      Or Indefinite; as Love-melancholy, the subject of the third

  Its Causes in general. _Sect. 2._ A.
  Its Symptoms or signs. _Sect. 3._ B.
  Its Prognostics or indications. _Sect. 4._ C.
  Its Cures; the subject of the second Partition.

A. _Sect. 2._ Causes of Melancholy are either

  General, as _Memb. 1._

          As from God immediately, or by second causes. _Subs. 1._

          Or from the devil immediately, with a digression of the nature of
            spirits and devils. _Subs. 2._

          Or mediately, by magicians, witches. _Subs. 3._

      Or Natural

          Primary, as stars, proved by aphorisms, signs from physiognomy,
          metoposcopy, chiromancy. _Subs. 4._

          Or Secondary, as

              Congenite, inward from
                  Old age, temperament, _Subs. 5._
                  Parents, it being an hereditary disease, _Subs. 6._

              Or Outward or adventitious, which are
                  Evident, outward, remote, adventitious, as,
                      Necessary, see [Symbol: Taurus].

                      Not necessary, as _M. 4. S. 2._
                          Nurses, _Subs. 1._
                          Education, _Subs. 2._
                          Terrors, affrights, _Subs. 3._
                          Scoffs, calumnies, bitter jests, _Subs. 4._
                          Loss of liberty, servitude, imprisonment, _Subs.
                          Poverty and want, _Subs. 6.
                          A heap of other accidents, death of friends,
                            loss, &c. _Subs. 7._

                  Or Contingent, inward, antecedent, nearest. _Memb. 5.
                    Sect. 2._

                      In which the body works on the mind, and this malady
                        is caused by precedent diseases; as agues, pox,
                        &c., or temperature, innate _Subs. 1._

                      Or by particular parts distempered, as brain, heart,
                        spleen, liver, mesentery, pylorus, stomach &c.
                        _Subs. 2._

  Particular to the three species. See [Symbol: Gemini].

[Symbol: Gemini] Particular causes. _Sect. 2. Memb. 5._

  Of head Melancholy are _Subs. 3._

          Innate humour, or from temperature adjust.
          A hot brain, corrupted blood in the brain
          Excess of venery, or defect
          Agues, or some precedent disease
          Fumes arising from the stomach, &c.

      Or Outward
          Heat of the sun, immoderate
          A blow on the head
          Overmuch use of hot wines, spices, garlic, onions, hot baths,
            overmuch waking, &c.
          Idleness, solitariness, or overmuch study, vehement labour, &c.
          Passions, perturbations, &c.

  Of hypochondriacal or windy melancholy are, [_Subs. 4._]

          Default of spleen, belly, bowels, stomach, mesentery, miseraic
            veins, liver, &c.
          Months or hemorrhoids stopped, or any other ordinary evacuation

      or Outward
          Those six non-natural things abused.

  Over all the body are, _Subs. 5._

          Liver distempered, stopped, over-hot, apt to engender melancholy,
            temperature innate.

      or Outward
          Bad diet, suppression of hemorrhoids &c. and such evacuations,
            passions, cares, &c. those six non-natural things abused.

[Symbol: Taurus] Necessary causes, as those six non-natural things, which
are, _Sect. 2 Memb. 2._

  Diet offending in _Subs. 1._

          Bread; course and black, &c.
          Drink; thick, thin, sour, &c.
          Water unclean, milk, oil, vinegar, wine, spices &c.
              Parts: heads, feet, entrails, fat, bacon, blood, &c.
                  Beef, pork, venison, hares, goats, pigeons, peacocks,
                    fen-fowl, &c.
          Herbs, Fish, &c.
              Of fish; all shellfish, hard and slimy fish, &c.
              Of herbs; pulse, cabbage, melons, garlic, onions, &c.
              All roots, raw fruits, hard and windy meats

      Quality, as in
          Preparing, dressing, sharp sauces, salt meats, indurate, soused,
          fried, broiled or made-dishes, &c.

          Disorder in eating, immoderate eating, or at unseasonable times,
            &c. _Subs. 2_
          Custom; delight, appetite, altered, &c. _Subs. 3._

  Retention and evacuation, _Subs. 4._
      Costiveness, hot baths, sweating, issues stopped, Venus in excess, or
        in defect, phlebotomy, purging, &c.

  Air; hot, cold, tempestuous, dark, thick, foggy, moorish, &c. _Subs. 5._

  Exercise, _Subs. 6._
      Unseasonable, excessive, or defective, of body or mind, solitariness,
      idleness, a life out of action, &c.

  Sleep and waking, unseasonable, inordinate, overmuch, overlittle, &c.
    _Subs. 7._

  _Memb. 3. Sect. 2._

  Passions and perturbations of the mind, _Subs. 1._ With a digression of
    the force of imagination. _Subs. 2._ and division of passions into
    _Subs. 3._

          Sorrow, cause and symptom, _Subs. 4._
          Fear, cause and symptom, _Subs. 5._
          Shame, repulse, disgrace, &c. _Subs. 6._
          Envy and malice, _Subs. 7._
          Emulation, hatred, faction, desire of revenge, _Subs. 8._
          Anger a cause, _Subs. 9._
          Discontents, cares, miseries, &c. _Subs. 10._

      or concupiscible.
          Vehement desires, ambition, _Subs. 11._
          Covetousness, [Greek: philargurian], _Subs. 12._
          Love of pleasures, gaming in excess, &c. _Subs. 13._
          Desire of praise, pride, vainglory, &c. _Subs. 14._
          Love of learning, study in excess, with a digression, of the
            misery of scholars, and why the Muses are melancholy, _Subs.

B. Symptoms of melancholy are either _Sect. 3._

  General, as of _Memb. 1._

      Body, as ill digestion, crudity, wind, dry brains, hard belly, thick
        blood, much waking, heaviness, and palpitation of heart, leaping in
        many places, &c., _Subs. 1._

      or Mind

          Common to all or most.
              Fear and sorrow without a just cause, suspicion, jealousy,
              discontent, solitariness, irksomeness, continual cogitations,
              restless thoughts, vain imaginations, &c. _Subs. 2._

          Or Particular to private persons, according to _Subs. 3. 4._
              Celestial influences, as [Symbol: Saturn] [Symbol: Jupiter]
                [Symbol: Mars], &c. parts of the body, heart, brain, liver,
                spleen, stomach, &c.

                  Sanguine are merry still, laughing, pleasant, meditating
                    on plays, women, music, &c.
                  Phlegmatic, slothful, dull, heavy, &c.
                  Choleric, furious, impatient, subject to hear and see
                    strange apparitions, &c.
                  Black, solitary, sad; they think they are bewitched,
                    dead, &c.

              Or mixed of these four humours adust, or not adust,
                infinitely varied.

              Their several customs, conditions, inclinations, discipline,

                  Ambitious, thinks himself a king, a lord; covetous, runs
                  on his money; lascivious on his mistress; religious, hath
                  revelations, visions, is a prophet, or troubled in mind;
                  a scholar on his book, &c.

              Continuance of time as the humour is intended or remitted,

                  Pleasant at first, hardly discerned; afterwards harsh and
                  intolerable, if inveterate. Hence some make three
                      1. _Falsa cogitatio._
                      2. _Cogitata loqui._
                      3. _Exequi loquutum._

                  By fits, or continuate, as the object varies, pleasing,
                    or displeasing.

  Simple, or as it is mixed with other diseases, apoplexies, gout, _caninus
    appetitus_, &c. so the symptoms are various.

[Symbol: Cancer] Particular symptoms to the three distinct species. _Sect.
3. Memb. 2._

  Head melancholy. _Subs. 1._

      In body
          Headache, binding and heaviness, vertigo, lightness, singing of
          the ears, much waking, fixed eyes, high colour, red eyes, hard
          belly, dry body; no great sign of melancholy in the other parts.

      Or In mind.
          Continual fear, sorrow, suspicion, discontent, superfluous cares,
          solicitude, anxiety, perpetual cogitation of such toys they are
          possessed with, thoughts like dreams, &c.

  Hypochondriacal, or windy melancholy. _Subs. 2._

      In body
          Wind, rumbling in the guts, bellyache, heat in the bowels,
          convulsions, crudities, short wind, sour and sharp belchings,
          cold sweat, pain in the left side, suffocation, palpitation,
          heaviness of the heart, singing in the ears, much spittle, and
          moist, &c.

      Or In mind.
          Fearful, sad, suspicious, discontent, anxiety, &c. Lascivious by
          reason of much wind, troublesome dreams, affected by fits, &c.

  Over all the body. _Subs. 3._

      In body
          Black, most part lean, broad veins, gross, thick blood, their
          hemorrhoids commonly stopped, &c.

      Or In mind.
          Fearful, sad, solitary, hate light, averse from company, fearful
          dreams, &c.

  Symptoms of nuns, maids, and widows melancholy, in body and mind, &c.
  [_Subs. 4_]

  A reason of these symptoms. _Memb. 3._

      Why they are so fearful, sad, suspicious without a cause, why
        solitary, why melancholy men are witty, why they suppose they hear
        and see strange voices, visions, apparitions.

      Why they prophesy, and speak strange languages; whence comes their
        crudity, rumbling, convulsions, cold sweat, heaviness of heart,
        palpitation, cardiaca, fearful dreams, much waking, prodigious

C. Prognostics of melancholy. _Sect. 4._

  Tending to good, as
      Morphew, scabs, itch, breaking out, &c.
      Black jaundice.
      If the hemorrhoids voluntarily open.
      If varices appear.

  Tending to evil, as
      Leanness, dryness, hollow-eyed, &c.
      Inveterate melancholy is incurable.
      If cold, it degenerates often into epilepsy, apoplexy, dotage, or
        into blindness.
      If hot, into madness, despair, and violent death.

  Corollaries and questions.
      The grievousness of this above all other diseases.
      The diseases of the mind are more grievous than those of the body.
      Whether it be lawful, in this case of melancholy, for a man to offer
        violence to himself. _Neg._
      How a melancholy or mad man offering violence to himself, is to be


_Man's Excellency, Fall, Miseries, Infirmities; The causes of them_.

_Man's Excellency_.] Man the most excellent and noble creature of the
world, "the principal and mighty work of God, wonder of Nature," as
Zoroaster calls him; _audacis naturae miraculum_, "the [820]marvel of
marvels," as Plato; "the [821]abridgment and epitome of the world," as
Pliny; _microcosmus_, a little world, a model of the world, [822]sovereign
lord of the earth, viceroy of the world, sole commander and governor of all
the creatures in it; to whose empire they are subject in particular, and
yield obedience; far surpassing all the rest, not in body only, but in
soul; [823]_imaginis imago_, [824]created to God's own [825]image, to that
immortal and incorporeal substance, with all the faculties and powers
belonging unto it; was at first pure, divine, perfect, happy, [826]
"created after God in true holiness and righteousness;" _Deo congruens_,
free from all manner of infirmities, and put in Paradise, to know God, to
praise and glorify him, to do his will, _Ut diis consimiles parturiat deos_
(as an old poet saith) to propagate the church.

_Man's Fall and Misery_.] But this most noble creature, _Heu tristis, et
lachrymosa commutatio_ ([827]one exclaims) O pitiful change! is fallen from
that he was, and forfeited his estate, become _miserabilis homuncio_, a
castaway, a caitiff, one of the most miserable creatures of the world, if
he be considered in his own nature, an unregenerate man, and so much
obscured by his fall that (some few relics excepted) he is inferior to a
beast, [828]"Man in honour that understandeth not, is like unto beasts that
perish," so David esteems him: a monster by stupend metamorphoses, [829]a
fox, a dog, a hog, what not? _Quantum mutatus ab illo_? How much altered
from that he was; before blessed and happy, now miserable and accursed;
[830]"He must eat his meat in sorrow," subject to death and all manner of
infirmities, all kind of calamities.

_A Description of Melancholy_.] [831]"Great travail is created for all men,
and an heavy yoke on the sons of Adam, from the day that they go out of
their mother's womb, unto that day they return to the mother of all things.
Namely, their thoughts, and fear of their hearts, and their imagination of
things they wait for, and the day of death. From him that sitteth in the
glorious throne, to him that sitteth beneath in the earth and ashes; from
him that is clothed in blue silk and weareth a crown, to him that is
clothed in simple linen. Wrath, envy, trouble, and unquietness, and fear of
death, and rigour, and strife, and such things come to both man and beast,
but sevenfold to the ungodly." All this befalls him in this life, and
peradventure eternal misery in the life to come.

_Impulsive Cause of Man's Misery and Infirmities_.] The impulsive cause of
these miseries in man, this privation or destruction of God's image, the
cause of death and diseases, of all temporal and eternal punishments, was
the sin of our first parent Adam, [832]in eating of the forbidden fruit, by
the devil's instigation and allurement. His disobedience, pride, ambition,
intemperance, incredulity, curiosity; from whence proceeded original sin,
and that general corruption of mankind, as from a fountain, flowed all bad
inclinations and actual transgressions which cause our several calamities
inflicted upon us for our sins. And this belike is that which our fabulous
poets have shadowed unto us in the tale of [833] Pandora's box, which being
opened through her curiosity, filled the world full of all manner of
diseases. It is not curiosity alone, but those other crying sins of ours,
which pull these several plagues and miseries upon our heads. For _Ubi
peccatum, ibi procella_, as [834]Chrysostom well observes. [835]"Fools by
reason of their transgression, and because of their iniquities, are
afflicted." [836]"Fear cometh like sudden desolation, and destruction like
a whirlwind, affliction and anguish," because they did not fear God.
[837]"Are you shaken with wars?" as Cyprian well urgeth to Demetrius, "are
you molested with dearth and famine? is your health crushed with raging
diseases? is mankind generally tormented with epidemical maladies? 'tis all
for your sins," Hag. i. 9, 10; Amos i.; Jer. vii. God is angry, punisheth
and threateneth, because of their obstinacy and stubbornness, they will not
turn unto him. [838]"If the earth be barren then for want of rain, if dry
and squalid, it yield no fruit, if your fountains be dried up, your wine,
corn, and oil blasted, if the air be corrupted, and men troubled with
diseases, 'tis by reason of their sins:" which like the blood of Abel cry
loud to heaven for vengeance, Lam. v. 15. "That we have sinned, therefore
our hearts are heavy," Isa. lix. 11, 12. "We roar like bears, and mourn
like doves, and want health, &c. for our sins and trespasses." But this we
cannot endure to hear or to take notice of, Jer. ii. 30. "We are smitten in
vain and receive no correction;" and cap. v. 3. "Thou hast stricken them,
but they have not sorrowed; they have refused to receive correction; they
have not returned. Pestilence he hath sent, but they have not turned to
him," Amos iv. [839]Herod could not abide John Baptist, nor [840]Domitian
endure Apollonius to tell the causes of the plague at Ephesus, his
injustice, incest, adultery, and the like.

To punish therefore this blindness and obstinacy of ours as a concomitant
cause and principal agent, is God's just judgment in bringing these
calamities upon us, to chastise us, I say, for our sins, and to satisfy
God's wrath. For the law requires obedience or punishment, as you may read
at large, Deut. xxviii. 15. "If they will not obey the Lord, and keep his
commandments and ordinances, then all these curses shall come upon them."
[841]"Cursed in the town and in the field," &c. [842]"Cursed in the fruit
of the body," &c. [843]"The Lord shall send thee trouble and shame, because
of thy wickedness." And a little after, [844]"The Lord shall smite thee
with the botch of Egypt, and with emerods, and scab, and itch, and thou
canst not be healed; [845]with madness, blindness, and astonishing of
heart." This Paul seconds, Rom. ii. 9. "Tribulation and anguish on the soul
of every man that doeth evil." Or else these chastisements are inflicted
upon us for our humiliation, to exercise and try our patience here in this
life to bring us home, to make us to know God ourselves, to inform and
teach us wisdom. [846]"Therefore is my people gone into captivity, because
they had no knowledge; therefore is the wrath of the Lord kindled against
his people, and he hath stretched out his hand upon them." He is desirous
of our salvation. [847]_Nostrae salutis avidus_, saith Lemnius, and for
that cause pulls us by the ear many times, to put us in mind of our duties:
"That they which erred might have understanding, (as Isaiah speaks xxix.
24) and so to be reformed." [848]"I am afflicted, and at the point of
death," so David confesseth of himself, Psal. lxxxviii. v. 15, v. 9. "Mine
eyes are sorrowful through mine affliction:" and that made him turn unto
God. Great Alexander in the midst of all his prosperity, by a company of
parasites deified, and now made a god, when he saw one of his wounds bleed,
remembered that he was but a man, and remitted of his pride. _In morbo
recolligit se animus_,[849] as [850]Pliny well perceived; "In sickness the
mind reflects upon itself, with judgment surveys itself, and abhors its
former courses;" insomuch that he concludes to his friend Marius,[851]
"that it were the period of all philosophy, if we could so continue sound,
or perform but a part of that which we promised to do, being sick. Whoso is
wise then, will consider these things," as David did (Psal. cxliv., verse
last); and whatsoever fortune befall him, make use of it. If he be in
sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity, seriously to recount with
himself, why this or that malady, misery, this or that incurable disease is
inflicted upon him; it may be for his good, [852]_sic expedit_ as Peter
said of his daughter's ague. Bodily sickness is for his soul's health,
_periisset nisi periisset_, had he not been visited, he had utterly
perished; for [853]"the Lord correcteth him whom he loveth, even as a
father doth his child in whom he delighteth." If he be safe and sound on
the other side, and free from all manner of infirmity; [854]_et cui_

       "Gratia, forma, valetudo contingat abunde
        Et mundus victus, non deficiente crumena."

       "And that he have grace, beauty, favour, health,
        A cleanly diet, and abound in wealth."

Yet in the midst of his prosperity, let him remember that caveat of Moses,
[855]"Beware that he do not forget the Lord his God;" that he be not puffed
up, but acknowledge them to be his good gifts and benefits, and [856]"the
more he hath, to be more thankful," (as Agapetianus adviseth) and use them

_Instrumental Causes of our Infirmities_.] Now the instrumental causes of
these our infirmities, are as diverse as the infirmities themselves; stars,
heavens, elements, &c. And all those creatures which God hath made, are
armed against sinners. They were indeed once good in themselves, and that
they are now many of them pernicious unto us, is not in their nature, but
our corruption, which hath caused it. For from the fall of our first parent
Adam, they have been changed, the earth accursed, the influence of stars,
altered, the four elements, beasts, birds, plants, are now ready to offend
us. "The principal things for the use of man, are water, fire, iron, salt,
meal, wheat, honey, milk, oil, wine, clothing, good to the godly, to the
sinners turned to evil," Ecclus. xxxix. 26. "Fire, and hail, and famine,
and dearth, all these are created for vengeance," Ecclus. xxxix. 29. The
heavens threaten us with their comets, stars, planets, with their great
conjunctions, eclipses, oppositions, quartiles, and such unfriendly
aspects. The air with his meteors, thunder and lightning, intemperate heat
and cold, mighty winds, tempests, unseasonable weather; from which proceed
dearth, famine, plague, and all sorts of epidemical diseases, consuming
infinite myriads of men. At Cairo in Egypt, every third year, (as it is
related by [857]Boterus, and others) 300,000 die of the plague; and
200,000, in Constantinople, every fifth or seventh at the utmost. How doth
the earth terrify and oppress us with terrible earthquakes, which are most
frequent in [858]China, Japan, and those eastern climes, swallowing up
sometimes six cities at once? How doth the water rage with his inundations,
irruptions, flinging down towns, cities, villages, bridges, &c. besides
shipwrecks; whole islands are sometimes suddenly overwhelmed with all their
inhabitants in [859]Zealand, Holland, and many parts of the continent
drowned, as the [860]lake Erne in Ireland? [861]_Nihilque praeter arcium
cadavera patenti cernimus freto._ In the fens of Friesland 1230, by reason
of tempests, [862]the sea drowned _multa hominum millia, et jumenta sine
numero_, all the country almost, men and cattle in it. How doth the fire
rage, that merciless element, consuming in an instant whole cities? What
town of any antiquity or note hath not been once, again and again, by the
fury of this merciless element, defaced, ruinated, and left desolate? In a

[863]  "Ignis pepercit, unda mergit, aeris
        Vis pestilentis aequori ereptum necat,
        Bello superstes, tabidus morbo perit."

       "Whom fire spares, sea doth drown; whom sea,
        Pestilent air doth send to clay;
        Whom war 'scapes, sickness takes away."

To descend to more particulars, how many creatures are at deadly feud with
men? Lions, wolves, bears, &c. Some with hoofs, horns, tusks, teeth, nails:
How many noxious serpents and venomous creatures, ready to offend us with
stings, breath, sight, or quite kill us? How many pernicious fishes,
plants, gums, fruits, seeds, flowers, &c. could I reckon up on a sudden,
which by their very smell many of them, touch, taste, cause some grievous
malady, if not death itself? Some make mention of a thousand several
poisons: but these are but trifles in respect. The greatest enemy to man,
is man, who by the devil's instigation is still ready to do mischief, his
own executioner, a wolf, a devil to himself, and others. [864]We are all
brethren in Christ, or at least should be, members of one body, servants of
one lord, and yet no fiend can so torment, insult over, tyrannise, vex, as
one man doth another. Let me not fall therefore (saith David, when wars,
plague, famine were offered) into the hands of men, merciless and wicked

[865]   ------"Vix sunt homines hoc nomine digni,
        Quamque lupi, saevae plus feritatis habent."

We can most part foresee these epidemical diseases, and likely avoid them;
Dearths, tempests, plagues, our astrologers foretell us; Earthquakes,
inundations, ruins of houses, consuming fires, come by little and little,
or make some noise beforehand; but the knaveries, impostures, injuries and
villainies of men no art can avoid. We can keep our professed enemies from
our cities, by gates, walls and towers, defend ourselves from thieves and
robbers by watchfulness and weapons; but this malice of men, and their
pernicious endeavours, no caution can divert, no vigilancy foresee, we have
so many secret plots and devices to mischief one another.

Sometimes by the devil's help as magicians, [866]witches: sometimes by
impostures, mixtures, poisons, stratagems, single combats, wars, we hack
and hew, as if we were _ad internecionem nati_, like Cadmus' soldiers born
to consume one another. 'Tis an ordinary thing to read of a hundred and two
hundred thousand men slain in a battle. Besides all manner of tortures,
brazen bulls, racks, wheels, strappadoes, guns, engines, &c. [867]_Ad unum
corpus humanum supplicia plura, quam membra_: We have invented more
torturing instruments, than there be several members in a man's body, as
Cyprian well observes. To come nearer yet, our own parents by their
offences, indiscretion and intemperance, are our mortal enemies. [868]"The
fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge."
They cause our grief many times, and put upon us hereditary diseases,
inevitable infirmities: they torment us, and we are ready to injure our

[869]   ------"mox daturi progeniem vitiosiorem."

       "And yet with crimes to us unknown,
        Our sons shall mark the coming age their own;"

and the latter end of the world, as [870]Paul foretold, is still like to be
the worst. We are thus bad by nature, bad by kind, but far worse by art,
every man the greatest enemy unto himself. We study many times to undo
ourselves, abusing those good gifts which God hath bestowed upon us,
health, wealth, strength, wit, learning, art, memory to our own
destruction, [871]_Perditio tua ex te_. As [872]Judas Maccabeus killed
Apollonius with his own weapons, we arm ourselves to our own overthrows;
and use reason, art, judgment, all that should help us, as so many
instruments to undo us. Hector gave Ajax a sword, which so long as he
fought against enemies, served for his help and defence; but after he began
to hurt harmless creatures with it, turned to his own hurtless bowels.
Those excellent means God hath bestowed on us, well employed, cannot but
much avail us; but if otherwise perverted, they ruin and confound us: and
so by reason of our indiscretion and weakness they commonly do, we have too
many instances. This St. Austin acknowledgeth of himself in his humble
confessions, "promptness of wit, memory, eloquence, they were God's good
gifts, but he did not use them to his glory." If you will particularly know
how, and by what means, consult physicians, and they will tell you, that it
is in offending in some of those six non-natural things, of which I shall
[873]dilate more at large; they are the causes of our infirmities, our
surfeiting, and drunkenness, our immoderate insatiable lust, and prodigious
riot. _Plures crapula, quam gladius_, is a true saying, the board consumes
more than the sword. Our intemperance it is, that pulls so many several
incurable diseases upon our heads, that hastens [874]old age, perverts our
temperature, and brings upon us sudden death. And last of all, that which
crucifies us most, is our own folly, madness (_quos Jupiter perdit,
dementat_; by subtraction of his assisting grace God permits it) weakness,
want of government, our facility and proneness in yielding to several
lusts, in giving way to every passion and perturbation of the mind: by
which means we metamorphose ourselves and degenerate into beasts. All which
that prince of [875]poets observed of Agamemnon, that when he was well
pleased, and could moderate his passion, he was--_os oculosque Jovi par_:
like Jupiter in feature, Mars in valour, Pallas in wisdom, another god; but
when he became angry, he was a lion, a tiger, a dog, &c., there appeared no
sign or likeness of Jupiter in him; so we, as long as we are ruled by
reason, correct our inordinate appetite, and conform ourselves to God's
word, are as so many saints: but if we give reins to lust, anger, ambition,
pride, and follow our own ways, we degenerate into beasts, transform
ourselves, overthrow our constitutions, [876]provoke God to anger, and heap
upon us this of melancholy, and all kinds of incurable diseases, as a just
and deserved punishment of our sins.

SUBSECT. II.--_The Definition, Number, Division of Diseases_.

What a disease is, almost every physician defines. [877]Fernelius calleth
it an "affection of the body contrary to nature." [878]Fuschius and Crato,
"an hindrance, hurt, or alteration of any action of the body, or part of
it." [879]Tholosanus, "a dissolution of that league which is between body
and soul, and a perturbation of it; as health the perfection, and makes to
the preservation of it." [880]Labeo in Agellius, "an ill habit of the body,
opposite to nature, hindering the use of it." Others otherwise, all to this

_Number of Diseases_.] How many diseases there are, is a question not yet
determined; [881]Pliny reckons up 300 from the crown of the head to the
sole of the foot: elsewhere he saith, _morborum infinita multitudo_, their
number is infinite. Howsoever it was in those times, it boots not; in our
days I am sure the number is much augmented:

[882]   ------"macies, et nova febrium
        Terris incubit cohors."

For besides many epidemical diseases unheard of, and altogether unknown to
Galen and Hippocrates, as scorbutum, small-pox, plica, sweating sickness,
morbus Gallicus, &c., we have many proper and peculiar almost to every

_No man free from some Disease or other_.] No man amongst us so sound, of
so good a constitution, that hath not some impediment of body or mind.
_Quisque suos patimur manes_, we have all our infirmities, first or last,
more or less. There will be peradventure in an age, or one of a thousand,
like Zenophilus the musician in [883]Pliny, that may happily live 105 years
without any manner of impediment; a Pollio Romulus, that can preserve
himself [884]"with wine and oil;" a man as fortunate as Q. Metellus, of
whom Valerius so much brags; a man as healthy as Otto Herwardus, a senator
of Augsburg in Germany, whom [885]Leovitius the astrologer brings in for an
example and instance of certainty in his art; who because he had the
significators in his geniture fortunate, and free from the hostile aspects
of Saturn and Mars, being a very cold man, [886]"could not remember that
ever he was sick." [887]Paracelsus may brag that he could make a man live
400 years or more, if he might bring him up from his infancy, and diet him
as he list; and some physicians hold, that there is no certain period of
man's life; but it may still by temperance and physic be prolonged. We find
in the meantime, by common experience, that no man can escape, but that of
[888]Hesiod is true:

       "[Greek: pleiae men gar gaia kakon, pleiae de thalassa,
        nousoid' anthropoi ein eph' haemerae, aed' epi nukti
        Hautomatoi phoitosi.]"------

       "Th' earth's full of maladies, and full the sea,
        Which set upon us both by night and day."

_Division of Diseases_.] If you require a more exact division of these
ordinary diseases which are incident to men, I refer you to physicians;
[889]they will tell you of acute and chronic, first and secondary, lethals,
salutares, errant, fixed, simple, compound, connexed, or consequent,
belonging to parts or the whole, in habit, or in disposition, &c. My
division at this time (as most befitting my purpose) shall be into those of
the body and mind. For them of the body, a brief catalogue of which
Fuschius hath made, _Institut. lib. 3, sect. 1, cap. 11._ I refer you to
the voluminous tomes of Galen, Areteus, Rhasis, Avicenna, Alexander, Paulus
Aetius, Gordonerius: and those exact Neoterics, Savanarola, Capivaccius,
Donatus Altomarus, Hercules de Saxonia, Mercurialis, Victorius Faventinus,
Wecker, Piso, &c., that have methodically and elaborately written of them
all. Those of the mind and head I will briefly handle, and apart.

SUBSECT. III.--_Division of the Diseases of the Head_.

These diseases of the mind, forasmuch as they have their chief seat and
organs in the head, which are commonly repeated amongst the diseases of the
head which are divers, and vary much according to their site. For in the
head, as there be several parts, so there be divers grievances, which
according to that division of [890]Heurnius, (which he takes out of
Arculanus,) are inward or outward (to omit all others which pertain to eyes
and ears, nostrils, gums, teeth, mouth, palate, tongue, weezle, chops,
face, &c.) belonging properly to the brain, as baldness, falling of hair,
furfur, lice, &c. [891]Inward belonging to the skins next to the brain,
called _dura_ and _pia mater_, as all headaches, &c., or to the ventricles,
caules, kells, tunicles, creeks, and parts of it, and their passions, as
caro, vertigo, incubus, apoplexy, falling sickness. The diseases of the
nerves, cramps, stupor, convulsion, tremor, palsy: or belonging to the
excrements of the brain, catarrhs, sneezing, rheums, distillations: or else
those that pertain to the substance of the brain itself, in which are
conceived frenzy, lethargy, melancholy, madness, weak memory, sopor, or
_Coma Vigilia et vigil Coma_. Out of these again I will single such as
properly belong to the phantasy, or imagination, or reason itself, which
[892]Laurentius calls the disease of the mind; and Hildesheim, _morbos
imaginationis, aut rationis laesae_, (diseases of the imagination, or of
injured reason,) which are three or four in number, frenzy, madness,
melancholy, dotage, and their kinds: as hydrophobia, lycanthropia, _Chorus
sancti viti, morbi daemoniaci_, (St. Vitus's dance, possession of devils,)
which I will briefly touch and point at, insisting especially in this of
melancholy, as more eminent than the rest, and that through all his kinds,
causes, symptoms, prognostics, cures: as Lonicerus hath done _de
apoplexia_, and many other of such particular diseases. Not that I find
fault with those which have written of this subject before, as Jason
Pratensis, Laurentius, Montaltus, T. Bright, &c., they have done very well
in their several kinds and methods; yet that which one omits, another may
haply see; that which one contracts, another may enlarge. To conclude with
[893]Scribanius, "that which they had neglected, or perfunctorily handled,
we may more thoroughly examine; that which is obscurely delivered in them,
may be perspicuously dilated and amplified by us:" and so made more
familiar and easy for every man's capacity, and the common good, which is
the chief end of my discourse.

SUBSECT. IV.--_Dotage, Frenzy, Madness, Hydrophobia, Lycanthropia, Chorus
sancti Viti, Extasis_.

_Delirium, Dotage_.] Dotage, fatuity, or folly, is a common name to all the
following species, as some will have it. [894]Laurentius and [895]
Altomarus comprehended madness, melancholy, and the rest under this name,
and call it the _summum genus_ of them all. If it be distinguished from
them, it is natural or ingenite, which comes by some defect of the organs,
and overmuch brain, as we see in our common fools; and is for the most part
intended or remitted in particular men, and thereupon some are wiser than
others: or else it is acquisite, an appendix or symptom of some other
disease, which comes or goes; or if it continue, a sign of melancholy

_Frenzy_.] _Phrenitis_, which the Greeks derive from the word [Greek:
phraen], is a disease of the mind, with a continual madness or dotage,
which hath an acute fever annexed, or else an inflammation of the brain, or
the membranes or kells of it, with an acute fever, which causeth madness
and dotage. It differs from melancholy and madness, because their dotage is
without an ague: this continual, with waking, or memory decayed, &c.
Melancholy is most part silent, this clamorous; and many such like
differences are assigned by physicians.

_Madness_.] Madness, frenzy, and melancholy are confounded by Celsus, and
many writers; others leave out frenzy, and make madness and melancholy but
one disease, which [896]Jason Pratensis especially labours, and that they
differ only _secundam majus_ or _minus_, in quantity alone, the one being a
degree to the other, and both proceeding from one cause. They differ
_intenso et remisso gradu_, saith [897]Gordonius, as the humour is intended
or remitted. Of the same mind is [898]Areteus, Alexander Tertullianus,
Guianerius, Savanarola, Heurnius; and Galen himself writes promiscuously of
them both by reason of their affinity: but most of our neoterics do handle
them apart, whom I will follow in this treatise. Madness is therefore
defined to be a vehement dotage; or raving without a fever, far more
violent than melancholy, full of anger and clamour, horrible looks,
actions, gestures, troubling the patients with far greater vehemency both
of body and mind, without all fear and sorrow, with such impetuous force
and boldness, that sometimes three or four men cannot hold them. Differing
only in this from frenzy, that it is without a fever, and their memory is
most part better. It hath the same causes as the other, as choler adust,
and blood incensed, brains inflamed, &c. [899]Fracastorius adds, "a due
time, and full age" to this definition, to distinguish it from children,
and will have it confirmed impotency, to separate it from such as
accidentally come and go again, as by taking henbane, nightshade, wine, &c.
Of this fury there be divers kinds; [900]ecstasy, which is familiar with
some persons, as Cardan saith of himself, he could be in one when he list;
in which the Indian priests deliver their oracles, and the witches in
Lapland, as Olaus Magnus writeth, _l. 3, cap. 18._ _Extasi omnia
praedicere_, answer all questions in an ecstasis you will ask; what your
friends do, where they are, how they fare, &c. The other species of this
fury are enthusiasms, revelations, and visions, so often mentioned by
Gregory and Bede in their works; obsession or possession of devils,
sibylline prophets, and poetical furies; such as come by eating noxious
herbs, tarantulas stinging, &c., which some reduce to this. The most known
are these, lycanthropia, hydrophobia, chorus sancti Viti.

_Lycanthropia_.] Lycanthropia, which Avicenna calls _cucubuth_, others
_lupinam insaniam_, or wolf-madness, when men run howling about graves and
fields in the night, and will not be persuaded but that they are wolves, or
some such beasts. [901]Aetius and [902]Paulus call it a kind of melancholy;
but I should rather refer it to madness, as most do. Some make a doubt of
it whether there be any such disease. [903]Donat ab Altomari saith, that he
saw two of them in his time: [904]Wierus tells a story of such a one at
Padua 1541, that would not believe to the contrary, but that he was a wolf.
He hath another instance of a Spaniard, who thought himself a bear;
[905]Forrestus confirms as much by many examples; one amongst the rest of
which he was an eyewitness, at Alcmaer in Holland, a poor husbandman that
still hunted about graves, and kept in churchyards, of a pale, black, ugly,
and fearful look. Such belike, or little better, were king Praetus'
[906]daughters, that thought themselves kine. And Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel,
as some interpreters hold, was only troubled with this kind of madness.
This disease perhaps gave occasion to that bold assertion of [907]Pliny,
"some men were turned into wolves in his time, and from wolves to men
again:" and to that fable of Pausanias, of a man that was ten years a wolf,
and afterwards turned to his former shape: to [908]Ovid's tale of Lycaon,
&c. He that is desirous to hear of this disease, or more examples, let him
read Austin in his 18th book _de Civitate Dei, cap. 5._ Mizaldus, _cent. 5.
77._ Sckenkius, _lib. 1._ Hildesheim, _spicel. 2. de Mania_. Forrestus
_lib. 10. de morbis cerebri._ Olaus Magnus, Vincentius Bellavicensis,
_spec. met. lib. 31. c. 122._ Pierius, Bodine, Zuinger, Zeilger, Peucer,
Wierus, Spranger, &c. This malady, saith Avicenna, troubleth men most in
February, and is nowadays frequent in Bohemia and Hungary, according to
[909]Heurnius. Scheretzius will have it common in Livonia. They lie hid
most part all day, and go abroad in the night, barking, howling, at graves
and deserts; [910]"they have usually hollow eyes, scabbed legs and thighs,
very dry and pale," [911]saith Altomarus; he gives a reason there of all
the symptoms, and sets down a brief cure of them.

_Hydrophobia_ is a kind of madness, well known in every village, which
comes by the biting of a mad dog, or scratching, saith [912]Aurelianus;
touching, or smelling alone sometimes as [913]Sckenkius proves, and is
incident to many other creatures as well as men: so called because the
parties affected cannot endure the sight of water, or any liquor, supposing
still they see a mad dog in it. And which is more wonderful; though they be
very dry, (as in this malady they are) they will rather die than drink:
[914]de Venenis Caelius Aurelianus, an ancient writer, makes a doubt
whether this Hydrophobia be a passion of the body or the mind. The part
affected is the brain: the cause, poison that comes from the mad dog, which
is so hot and dry, that it consumes all the moisture in the body. [915]
Hildesheim relates of some that died so mad; and being cut up, had no
water, scarce blood, or any moisture left in them. To such as are so
affected, the fear of water begins at fourteen days after they are bitten,
to some again not till forty or sixty days after: commonly saith Heurnius,
they begin to rave, fly water and glasses, to look red, and swell in the
face, about twenty days after (if some remedy be not taken in the meantime)
to lie awake, to be pensive, sad, to see strange visions, to bark and howl,
to fall into a swoon, and oftentimes fits of the falling sickness. [916]
Some say, little things like whelps will be seen in their urine. If any of
these signs appear, they are past recovery. Many times these symptoms will
not appear till six or seven months after, saith [917]Codronchus; and
sometimes not till seven or eight years, as Guianerius; twelve as Albertus;
six or eight months after, as Galen holds. Baldus the great lawyer died of
it: an Augustine friar, and a woman in Delft, that were [918]Forrestus'
patients, were miserably consumed with it. The common cure in the country
(for such at least as dwell near the seaside) is to duck them over head and
ears in sea water; some use charms: every good wife can prescribe
medicines. But the best cure to be had in such cases, is from the most
approved physicians; they that will read of them, may consult with
Dioscorides, _lib. 6. c. 37_, Heurnius, Hildesheim, Capivaccius, Forrestus,
Sckenkius and before all others Codronchus an Italian, who hath lately
written two exquisite books on the subject.

_Chorus sancti Viti_, or St. Vitus's dance; the lascivious dance, [919]
Paracelsus calls it, because they that are taken from it, can do nothing
but dance till they be dead, or cured. It is so called, for that the
parties so troubled were wont to go to St. Vitus for help, and after they
had danced there awhile, they were [920]certainly freed. 'Tis strange to
hear how long they will dance, and in what manner, over stools, forms,
tables; even great bellied women sometimes (and yet never hurt their
children) will dance so long that they can stir neither hand nor foot, but
seem to be quite dead. One in red clothes they cannot abide. Music above
all things they love, and therefore magistrates in Germany will hire
musicians to play to them, and some lusty sturdy companions to dance with
them. This disease hath been very common in Germany, as appears by those
relations of [921]Sckenkius, and Paracelsus in his book of Madness, who
brags how many several persons he hath cured of it. Felix Plateras _de
mentis alienat. cap. 3_, reports of a woman in Basil whom he saw, that
danced a whole month together. The Arabians call it a kind of palsy. Bodine
in his 5th book _de Repub. cap. 1_, speaks of this infirmity; Monavius in
his last epistle to Scoltizius, and in another to Dudithus, where you may
read more of it.

The last kind of madness or melancholy, is that demoniacal (if I may so
call it) obsession or possession of devils, which Platerus and others would
have to be preternatural: stupend things are said of them, their actions,
gestures, contortions, fasting, prophesying, speaking languages they were
never taught, &c. Many strange stories are related of them, which because
some will not allow, (for Deacon and Darrel have written large volumes on
this subject pro and con.) I voluntarily omit.

[922]Fuschius, _Institut. lib. 3. sec. 1. cap. 11_, Felix Plater,
[923]Laurentius, add to these another fury that proceeds from love, and
another from study, another divine or religious fury; but these more
properly belong to melancholy; of all which I will speak [924]apart,
intending to write a whole book of them.

SUBSECT. V.--_Melancholy in Disposition, improperly so called,

Melancholy, the subject of our present discourse, is either in disposition
or habit. In disposition, is that transitory melancholy which goes and
comes upon every small occasion of sorrow, need, sickness, trouble, fear,
grief, passion, or perturbation of the mind, any manner of care,
discontent, or thought, which causeth anguish, dullness, heaviness and
vexation of spirit, any ways opposite to pleasure, mirth, joy, delight,
causing frowardness in us, or a dislike. In which equivocal and improper
sense, we call him melancholy that is dull, sad, sour, lumpish, ill
disposed, solitary, any way moved, or displeased. And from these melancholy
dispositions, [925]no man living is free, no stoic, none so wise, none so
happy, none so patient, so generous, so godly, so divine, that can
vindicate himself; so well composed, but more or less, some time or other
he feels the smart of it. Melancholy in this sense is the character of
mortality. [926]"Man that is born of a woman, is of short continuance, and
full of trouble." Zeno, Cato, Socrates himself, whom [927]Aelian so highly
commends for a moderate temper, that "nothing could disturb him, but going
out, and coming in, still Socrates kept the same serenity of countenance,
what misery soever befell him," (if we may believe Plato his disciple) was
much tormented with it. Q. Metellus, in whom [928]Valerius gives instance
of all happiness, "the most fortunate man then living, born in that most
flourishing city of Rome, of noble parentage, a proper man of person, well
qualified, healthful, rich, honourable, a senator, a consul, happy in his
wife, happy in his children," &c. yet this man was not void of melancholy,
he had his share of sorrow. [929]Polycrates Samius, that flung his ring
into the sea, because he would participate of discontent with others, and
had it miraculously restored to him again shortly after, by a fish taken as
he angled, was not free from melancholy dispositions. No man can cure
himself; the very gods had bitter pangs, and frequent passions, as their
own [930]poets put upon them. In general, [931]"as the heaven, so is our
life, sometimes fair, sometimes overcast, tempestuous, and serene; as in a
rose, flowers and prickles; in the year itself, a temperate summer
sometimes, a hard winter, a drought, and then again pleasant showers: so is
our life intermixed with joys, hopes, fears, sorrows, calumnies: _Invicem
cedunt dolor et voluptas_," there is a succession of pleasure and pain.

[932]   ------"medio de fonte leporum
        Surgit amari aliquid, in ipsis floribus angat."

"Even in the midst of laughing there is sorrow," (as [933]Solomon holds):
even in the midst of all our feasting and jollity, as [934]Austin infers in
his _Com. on the 41st Psalm_, there is grief and discontent. _Inter
delicias semper aliquid saevi nos strangulat_, for a pint of honey thou
shalt here likely find a gallon of gall, for a dram of pleasure a pound of
pain, for an inch of mirth an ell of moan; as ivy doth an oak, these
miseries encompass our life. And it is most absurd and ridiculous for any
mortal man to look for a perpetual tenure of happiness in his life. Nothing
so prosperous and pleasant, but it hath [935]some bitterness in it, some
complaining, some grudging; it is all [Greek: glukupikron], a mixed
passion, and like a chequer table black and white: men, families, cities,
have their falls and wanes; now trines, sextiles, then quartiles and
oppositions. We are not here as those angels, celestial powers and bodies,
sun and moon, to finish our course without all offence, with such
constancy, to continue for so many ages: but subject to infirmities,
miseries, interrupted, tossed and tumbled up and down, carried about with
every small blast, often molested and disquieted upon each slender
occasion, [936]uncertain, brittle, and so is all that we trust unto. [937]
"And he that knows not this is not armed to endure it, is not fit to live
in this world (as one condoles our time), he knows not the condition of it,
where with a reciprocalty, pleasure and pain are still united, and succeed
one another in a ring." _Exi e mundo_, get thee gone hence if thou canst
not brook it; there is no way to avoid it, but to arm thyself with
patience, with magnanimity, to [938]oppose thyself unto it, to suffer
affliction as a good soldier of Christ; as [939]Paul adviseth constantly to
bear it. But forasmuch as so few can embrace this good council of his, or
use it aright, but rather as so many brute beasts give away to their
passion, voluntary subject and precipitate themselves into a labyrinth of
cares, woes, miseries, and suffer their souls to be overcome by them,
cannot arm themselves with that patience as they ought to do, it falleth
out oftentimes that these dispositions become habits, and "many affects
contemned" (as [940]Seneca notes) "make a disease. Even as one
distillation, not yet grown to custom, makes a cough; but continual and
inveterate causeth a consumption of the lungs;" so do these our melancholy
provocations: and according as the humour itself is intended, or remitted
in men, as their temperature of body, or rational soul is better able to
make resistance; so are they more or less affected. For that which is but a
flea-biting to one, causeth insufferable torment to another; and which one
by his singular moderation, and well-composed carriage can happily
overcome, a second is no whit able to sustain, but upon every small
occasion of misconceived abuse, injury, grief, disgrace, loss, cross,
humour, &c. (if solitary, or idle) yields so far to passion, that his
complexion is altered, his digestion hindered, his sleep gone, his spirits
obscured, and his heart heavy, his hypochondries misaffected; wind,
crudity, on a sudden overtake him, and he himself overcome with melancholy.
As it is with a man imprisoned for debt, if once in the gaol, every
creditor will bring his action against him, and there likely hold him. If
any discontent seize upon a patient, in an instant all other perturbations
(for--_qua data porta ruunt_) will set upon him, and then like a lame dog
or broken-winged goose he droops and pines away, and is brought at last to
that ill habit or malady of melancholy itself. So that as the philosophers
make [941]eight degrees of heat and cold, we may make eighty-eight of
melancholy, as the parts affected are diversely seized with it, or have
been plunged more or less into this infernal gulf, or waded deeper into it.
But all these melancholy fits, howsoever pleasing at first, or displeasing,
violent and tyrannizing over those whom they seize on for the time; yet
these fits I say, or men affected, are but improperly so called, because
they continue not, but come and go, as by some objects they aye moved. This
melancholy of which we are to treat, is a habit, _mosbus sonticus_, or
_chronicus_, a chronic or continuate disease, a settled humour, as [942]
Aurelianus and [943]others call it, not errant, but fixed; and as it was
long increasing, so now being (pleasant, or painful) grown to an habit, it
will hardly be removed.


SUBSECT. I.--_Digression of Anatomy_.

Before I proceed to define the disease of melancholy, what it is, or to
discourse farther of it, I hold it not impertinent to make a brief
digression of the anatomy of the body and faculties of the soul, for the
better understanding of that which is to follow; because many hard words
will often occur, as mirach, hypocondries, emerods, &c., imagination,
reason, humours, spirits, vital, natural, animal, nerves, veins, arteries,
chylus, pituita; which by the vulgar will not so easily be perceived, what
they are, how cited, and to what end they serve. And besides, it may
peradventure give occasion to some men to examine more accurately, search
further into this most excellent subject, and thereupon with that royal
[944]prophet to praise God, ("for a man is fearfully and wonderfully made,
and curiously wrought") that have time and leisure enough, and are
sufficiently informed in all other worldly businesses, as to make a good
bargain, buy and sell, to keep and make choice of a fair hawk, hound,
horse, &c. But for such matters as concern the knowledge of themselves,
they are wholly ignorant and careless; they know not what this body and
soul are, how combined, of what parts and faculties they consist, or how a
man differs from a dog. And what can be more ignominious and filthy (as
[945]Melancthon well inveighs) "than for a man not to know the structure
and composition of his own body, especially since the knowledge of it tends
so much to the preservation, of his health, and information of his
manners?" To stir them up therefore to this study, to peruse those
elaborate works of [946]Galen, Bauhines, Plater, Vesalius, Falopius,
Laurentius, Remelinus, &c., which have written copiously in Latin; or that
which some of our industrious countrymen have done in our mother tongue,
not long since, as that translation of [947]Columbus and [948]
Microcosmographia, in thirteen books, I have made this brief digression.
Also because [949]Wecker, [950]Melancthon, [951]Fernelius, [952] Fuschius,
and those tedious Tracts _de Anima_ (which have more compendiously handled
and written of this matter,) are not at all times ready to be had, to give
them some small taste, or notice of the rest, let this epitome suffice.

SUBSECT. II.--_Division of the Body, Humours, Spirits_.

Of the parts of the body there may be many divisions: the most approved is
that of [953]Laurentius, out of Hippocrates: which is, into parts
contained, or containing. Contained, are either humours or spirits.

_Humours_.] A humour is a liquid or fluent part of the body, comprehended
in it, for the preservation of it; and is either innate or born with us, or
adventitious and acquisite. The radical or innate, is daily supplied by
nourishment, which some call cambium, and make those secondary humours of
ros and gluten to maintain it: or acquisite, to maintain these four first
primary humours, coming and proceeding from the first concoction in the
liver, by which means chylus is excluded. Some divide them into profitable
and excrementitious. But [954]Crato out of Hippocrates will have all four
to be juice, and not excrements, without which no living creature can be
sustained: which four, though they be comprehended in the mass of blood,
yet they have their several affections, by which they are distinguished
from one another, and from those adventitious, peccant, or [955]diseased
humours, as Melancthon calls them.

_Blood_.] Blood is a hot, sweet, temperate, red humour, prepared in the
mesaraic veins, and made of the most temperate parts of the chylus in the
liver, whose office is to nourish the whole body, to give it strength and
colour, being dispersed by the veins through every part of it. And from it
spirits are first begotten in the heart, which afterwards by the arteries
are communicated to the other parts.

Pituita, or phlegm, is a cold and moist humour, begotten of the colder part
of the chylus (or white juice coming out of the meat digested in the
stomach,) in the liver; his office is to nourish and moisten the members of
the body, which as the tongue are moved, that they be not over dry.

Choler, is hot and dry, bitter, begotten of the hotter parts of the chylus,
and gathered to the gall: it helps the natural heat and senses, and serves
to the expelling of excrements.

_Melancholy_.] Melancholy, cold and dry, thick, black, and sour, begotten
of the more feculent part of nourishment, and purged from the spleen, is a
bridle to the other two hot humours, blood and choler, preserving them in
the blood, and nourishing the bones. These four humours have some analogy
with the four elements, and to the four ages in man.

_Serum, Sweat, Tears_.] To these humours you may add serum, which is the
matter of urine, and those excrementitious humours of the third concoction,
sweat and tears.

_Spirits_.] Spirit is a most subtle vapour, which is expressed from the
blood, and the instrument of the soul, to perform all his actions; a common
tie or medium between the body and the soul, as some will have it; or as
[956]Paracelsus, a fourth soul of itself. Melancthon holds the fountain of
those spirits to be the heart, begotten there; and afterward conveyed to
the brain, they take another nature to them. Of these spirits there be
three kinds, according to the three principal parts, brain, heart, liver;
natural, vital, animal. The natural are begotten in the liver, and thence
dispersed through the veins, to perform those natural actions. The vital
spirits are made in the heart of the natural, which by the arteries are
transported to all the other parts: if the spirits cease, then life
ceaseth, as in a syncope or swooning. The animal spirits formed of the
vital, brought up to the brain, and diffused by the nerves, to the
subordinate members, give sense and motion to them all.

SUBSECT. III.--_Similar Parts_.

_Similar Parts_] Containing parts, by reason of their more solid substance,
are either homogeneal or heterogeneal, similar or dissimilar; so Aristotle
divides them, _lib. 1, cap. 1, de Hist. Animal._; Laurentius, _cap. 20,
lib. 1._ Similar, or homogeneal, are such as, if they be divided, are still
severed into parts of the same nature, as water into water. Of these some
be spermatical, some fleshy or carnal. [957]Spermatical are such as are
immediately begotten of the seed, which are bones, gristles, ligaments,
membranes, nerves, arteries, veins, skins, fibres or strings, fat.

_Bones_.] The bones are dry and hard, begotten of the thickest of the seed,
to strengthen and sustain other parts: some say there be 304, some 307, or
313 in man's body. They have no nerves in them, and are therefore without

A gristle is a substance softer than bone, and harder than the rest,
flexible, and serves to maintain the parts of motion.

Ligaments are they that tie the bones together, and other parts to the
bones, with their subserving tendons: membranes' office is to cover the

Nerves, or sinews, are membranes without, and full of marrow within; they
proceed from the brain, and carry the animal spirits for sense and motion.
Of these some be harder, some softer; the softer serve the senses, and
there be seven pair of them. The first be the optic nerves, by which we
see; the second move the eyes; the third pair serve for the tongue to
taste; the fourth pair for the taste in the palate; the fifth belong to the
ears; the sixth pair is most ample, and runs almost over all the bowels;
the seventh pair moves the tongue. The harder sinews serve for the motion
of the inner parts, proceeding from the marrow in the back, of whom there
be thirty combinations, seven of the neck, twelve of the breast, &c.

_Arteries_.] Arteries are long and hollow, with a double skin to convey the
vital spirit; to discern which the better, they say that Vesalius the
anatomist was wont to cut up men alive. [958]They arise in the left side of
the heart, and are principally two, from which the rest are derived, aorta
and venosa: aorta is the root of all the other, which serve the whole body;
the other goes to the lungs, to fetch air to refrigerate the heart.

_Veins_.] Veins are hollow and round, like pipes, arising from the liver,
carrying blood and natural spirits; they feed all the parts. Of these there
be two chief, _Vena porta_ and _Vena cava_, from which the rest are
corrivated. That _Vena porta_ is a vein coming from the concave of the
liver, and receiving those mesaraical veins, by whom he takes the chylus
from the stomach and guts, and conveys it to the liver. The other derives
blood from the liver to nourish all the other dispersed members. The
branches of that _Vena porta_ are the mesaraical and haemorrhoids. The
branches of the _cava_ are inward or outward. Inward, seminal or emulgent.
Outward, in the head, arms, feet, &c., and have several names.

_Fibrae, Fat, Flesh_.] Fibrae are strings, white and solid, dispersed
through the whole member, and right, oblique, transverse, all which have
their several uses. Fat is a similar part, moist, without blood, composed
of the most thick and unctuous matter of the blood. The [959]skin covers
the rest, and hath _cuticulum_, or a little skin tinder it. Flesh is soft
and ruddy, composed of the congealing of blood, &c.

SUBSECT. IV.--_Dissimilar Parts_.

Dissimilar parts are those which we call organical, or instrumental, and
they be inward or outward. The chiefest outward parts are situate forward
or backward:--forward, the crown and foretop of the head, skull, face,
forehead, temples, chin, eyes, ears, nose, &c., neck, breast, chest, upper
and lower part of the belly, hypocondries, navel, groin, flank, &c.;
backward, the hinder part of the head, back, shoulders, sides, loins,
hipbones, _os sacrum_, buttocks, &c. Or joints, arms, hands, feet, legs,
thighs, knees, &c. Or common to both, which, because they are obvious and
well known, I have carelessly repeated, _eaque praecipua et grandiora
tantum; quod reliquum ex libris de anima qui volet, accipiat_.

Inward organical parts, which cannot be seen, are divers in number, and
have several names, functions, and divisions; but that of [960]Laurentius
is most notable, into noble or ignoble parts. Of the noble there be three
principal parts, to which all the rest belong, and whom they serve--brain,
heart, liver; according to whose site, three regions, or a threefold
division, is made of the whole body. As first of the head, in which the
animal organs are contained, and brain itself, which by his nerves give
sense and motion to the rest, and is, as it were, a privy counsellor and
chancellor to the heart. The second region is the chest, or middle belly,
in which the heart as king keeps his court, and by his arteries
communicates life to the whole body. The third region is the lower belly,
in which the liver resides as a _Legat a latere_, with the rest of those
natural organs, serving for concoction, nourishment, expelling of
excrements. This lower region is distinguished from the upper by the
midriff, or diaphragma, and is subdivided again by [961]some into three
concavities or regions, upper, middle, and lower. The upper of the
hypocondries, in whose right side is the liver, the left the spleen; from
which is denominated hypochondriacal melancholy. The second of the navel
and flanks, divided from the first by the rim. The last of the water
course, which is again subdivided into three other parts. The Arabians make
two parts of this region, _Epigastrium_ and _Hypogastrium_, upper or lower.
_Epigastrium_ they call _Mirach_, from whence comes _Mirachialis
Melancholia_, sometimes mentioned of them. Of these several regions I will
treat in brief apart; and first of the third region, in which the natural
organs are contained.

_De Anima.--The Lower Region, Natural Organs_.] But you that are readers in
the meantime, "Suppose you were now brought into some sacred temple, or
majestical palace" (as [962]Melancthon saith), "to behold not the matter
only, but the singular art, workmanship, and counsel of this our great
Creator. And it is a pleasant and profitable speculation, if it be
considered aright." The parts of this region, which present themselves to
your consideration and view, are such as serve to nutrition or generation.
Those of nutrition serve to the first or second concoction; as the
oesophagus or gullet, which brings meat and drink into the stomach. The
ventricle or stomach, which is seated in the midst of that part of the
belly beneath the midriff, the kitchen, as it were, of the first
concoction, and which turns our meat into chylus. It hath two mouths, one
above, another beneath. The upper is sometimes taken for the stomach
itself; the lower and nether door (as Wecker calls it) is named Pylorus.
This stomach is sustained by a large kell or caul, called omentum; which
some will have the same with peritoneum, or rim of the belly. From the
stomach to the very fundament are produced the guts, or intestina, which
serve a little to alter and distribute the chylus, and convey away the
excrements. They are divided into small and great, by reason of their site
and substance, slender or thicker: the slender is duodenum, or whole gut,
which is next to the stomach, some twelve inches long, saith [963]
Fuschius. Jejunum, or empty gut, continuate to the other, which hath many
mesaraic veins annexed to it, which take part of the chylus to the liver
from it. Ilion the third, which consists of many crinkles, which serves
with the rest to receive, keep, and distribute the chylus from the stomach.
The thick guts are three, the blind gut, colon, and right gut. The blind is
a thick and short gut, having one mouth, in which the ilium and colon meet:
it receives the excrements, and conveys them to the colon. This colon hath
many windings, that the excrements pass not away too fast: the right gut is
straight, and conveys the excrements to the fundament, whose lower part is
bound up with certain muscles called sphincters, that the excrements may be
the better contained, until such time as a man be willing to go to the
stool. In the midst of these guts is situated the mesenterium or midriff,
composed of many veins, arteries, and much fat, serving chiefly to sustain
the guts. All these parts serve the first concoction. To the second, which
is busied either in refining the good nourishment or expelling the bad, is
chiefly belonging the liver, like in colour to congealed blood, the shop of
blood, situate in the right hypochondry, in figure like to a half-moon,
_generosum membrum_ Melancthon styles it, a generous part; it serves to
turn the chylus to blood, for the nourishment of the body. The excrements
of it are either choleric or watery, which the other subordinate parts
convey. The gall placed in the concave of the liver, extracts choler to it:
the spleen, melancholy; which is situate on the left side, over against the
liver, a spongy matter, that draws this black choler to it by a secret
virtue, and feeds upon it, conveying the rest to the bottom of the stomach,
to stir up appetite, or else to the guts as an excrement. That watery
matter the two kidneys expurgate by those emulgent veins and ureters. The
emulgent draw this superfluous moisture from the blood; the two ureters
convey it to the bladder, which, by reason of his site in the lower belly,
is apt to receive it, having two parts, neck and bottom: the bottom holds
the water, the neck is constringed with a muscle, which, as a porter, keeps
the water from running out against our will.

Members of generation are common to both sexes, or peculiar to one; which,
because they are impertinent to my purpose, I do voluntarily omit.

_Middle Region_.] Next in order is the middle region, or chest, which
comprehends the vital faculties and parts; which (as I have said) is
separated from the lower belly by the diaphragma or midriff, which is a
skin consisting of many nerves, membranes; and amongst other uses it hath,
is the instrument of laughing. There is also a certain thin membrane, full
of sinews, which covereth the whole chest within, and is called pleura, the
seat of the disease called pleurisy, when it is inflamed; some add a third
skin, which is termed mediastinus, which divides the chest into two parts,
right and left; of this region the principal part is the heart, which is
the seat and fountain of life, of heat, of spirits, of pulse and
respiration--the sun of our body, the king and sole commander of it--the
seat and organ of all passions and affections. _Primum vivens, ultimum
moriens_, it lives first, dies last in all creatures. Of a pyramidical
form, and not much unlike to a pineapple; a part worthy of [964]
admiration, that can yield such variety of affections, by whose motion it
is dilated or contracted, to stir and command the humours in the body. As
in sorrow, melancholy; in anger, choler; in joy, to send the blood
outwardly; in sorrow, to call it in; moving the humours, as horses do a
chariot. This heart, though it be one sole member, yet it may be divided
into two creeks right and left. The right is like the moon increasing,
bigger than the other part, and receives blood from _vena cava_,
distributing some of it to the lungs to nourish them; the rest to the left
side, to engender spirits. The left creek hath the form of a cone, and is
the seat of life, which, as a torch doth oil, draws blood unto it,
begetting of it spirits and fire; and as fire in a torch, so are spirits in
the blood; and by that great artery called aorta, it sends vital spirits
over the body, and takes air from the lungs by that artery which is called
_venosa_; so that both creeks have their vessels, the right two veins, the
left two arteries, besides those two common anfractuous ears, which serve
them both; the one to hold blood, the other air, for several uses. The
lungs is a thin spongy part, like an ox hoof, (saith [965]Fernelius) the
town-clerk or crier, ([966]one terms it) the instrument of voice, as an
orator to a king; annexed to the heart, to express their thoughts by voice.
That it is the instrument of voice, is manifest, in that no creature can
speak, or utter any voice, which wanteth these lights. It is, besides, the
instrument of respiration, or breathing; and its office is to cool the
heart, by sending air unto it, by the venosal artery, which vein comes to
the lungs by that _aspera arteria_ which consists of many gristles,
membranes, nerves, taking in air at the nose and mouth, and by it likewise
exhales the fumes of the heart.

In the upper region serving the animal faculties, the chief organ is the
brain, which is a soft, marrowish, and white substance, engendered of the
purest part of seed and spirits, included by many skins, and seated within
the skull or brain pan; and it is the most noble organ under heaven, the
dwelling-house and seat of the soul, the habitation of wisdom, memory,
judgment, reason, and in which man is most like unto God; and therefore
nature hath covered it with a skull of hard bone, and two skins or
membranes, whereof the one is called _dura mater_, or meninx, the other
_pia mater_. The dura mater is next to the skull, above the other, which
includes and protects the brain. When this is taken away, the pia mater is
to be seen, a thin membrane, the next and immediate cover of the brain, and
not covering only, but entering into it. The brain itself is divided into
two parts, the fore and hinder part; the fore part is much bigger than the
other, which is called the little brain in respect of it. This fore part
hath many concavities distinguished by certain ventricles, which are the
receptacles of the spirits, brought hither by the arteries from the heart,
and are there refined to a more heavenly nature, to perform the actions of
the soul. Of these ventricles there are three--right, left, and middle. The
right and left answer to their site, and beget animal spirits; if they be
any way hurt, sense and motion ceaseth. These ventricles, moreover, are
held to be the seat of the common sense. The middle ventricle is a common
concourse and cavity of them both, and hath two passages--the one to
receive pituita, and the other extends itself to the fourth creek; in this
they place imagination and cogitation, and so the three ventricles of the
fore part of the brain are used. The fourth creek behind the head is common
to the cerebel or little brain, and marrow of the backbone, the last and
most solid of all the rest, which receives the animal spirits from the
other ventricles, and conveys them to the marrow in the back, and is the
place where they say the memory is seated.

SUBSECT. V.--_Of the Soul and her Faculties_.

According to [967]Aristotle, the soul is defined to be [Greek:
entelecheia], _perfectio et actus primus corporis organici, vitam habentis
in potentia_: the perfection or first act of an organical body, having
power of life, which most [968]philosophers approve. But many doubts arise
about the essence, subject, seat, distinction, and subordinate faculties of
it. For the essence and particular knowledge, of all other things it is
most hard (be it of man or beast) to discern, as [969]Aristotle himself,
[970]Tully, [971]Picus Mirandula, [972]Tolet, and other neoteric
philosophers confess:--[973]"We can understand all things by her, but what
she is we cannot apprehend." Some therefore make one soul, divided into
three principal faculties; others, three distinct souls. Which question of
late hath been much controverted by Picolomineus and Zabarel. [974]
Paracelsus will have four souls, adding to the three grand faculties a
spiritual soul: which opinion of his, Campanella, in his book _de sensu
rerum_ [975]much labours to demonstrate and prove, because carcasses bleed
at the sight of the murderer; with many such arguments And [976]some again,
one soul of all creatures whatsoever, differing only in organs; and that
beasts have reason as well as men, though, for some defect of organs, not
in such measure. Others make a doubt whether it be all in all, and all in
every part; which is amply discussed in Zabarel amongst the rest. The
[977]common division of the soul is into three principal
faculties--vegetal, sensitive, and rational, which make three distinct
kinds of living creatures--vegetal plants, sensible beasts, rational men.
How these three principal faculties are distinguished and connected,
_Humano ingenio inaccessum videtur_, is beyond human capacity, as [978]
Taurellus, Philip, Flavins, and others suppose. The inferior may be alone,
but the superior cannot subsist without the other; so sensible includes
vegetal, rational both; which are contained in it (saith Aristotle) _ut
trigonus in tetragono_ as a triangle in a quadrangle.

_Vegetal Soul_.] Vegetal, the first of the three distinct faculties, is
defined to be "a substantial act of an organical body, by which it is
nourished, augmented, and begets another like unto itself." In which
definition, three several operations are specified--altrix, auctrix,
procreatrix; the first is [979]nutrition, whose object is nourishment,
meat, drink, and the like; his organ the liver in sensible creatures; in
plants, the root or sap. His office is to turn the nutriment into the
substance of the body nourished, which he performs by natural heat. This
nutritive operation hath four other subordinate functions or powers
belonging to it--attraction, retention, digestion, expulsion.

_Attraction_.] [980]Attraction is a ministering faculty, which, as a
loadstone doth iron, draws meat into the stomach, or as a lamp doth oil;
and this attractive power is very necessary in plants, which suck up
moisture by the root, as, another mouth, into the sap, as a like stomach.

_Retention_.] Retention keeps it, being attracted unto the stomach, until
such time it be concocted; for if it should pass away straight, the body
could not be nourished.

_Digestion_.] Digestion is performed by natural heat; for as the flame of a
torch consumes oil, wax, tallow, so doth it alter and digest the nutritive
matter. Indigestion is opposite unto it, for want of natural heat. Of this
digestion there be three differences--maturation, elixation, assation.

_Maturation_.] Maturation is especially observed in the fruits of trees;
which are then said to be ripe, when the seeds are fit to be sown again.
Crudity is opposed to it, which gluttons, epicures, and idle persons are
most subject unto, that use no exercise to stir natural heat, or else choke
it, as too much wood puts out a fire.

_Elixation_.] Elixation is the seething of meat in the stomach, by the said
natural heat, as meat is boiled in a pot; to which corruption or
putrefaction is opposite.

_Assation_.] Assation is a concoction of the inward moisture by heat; his
opposite is semiustulation.

_Order of Concoction fourfold_.] Besides these three several operations of
digestion, there is a fourfold order of concoction:--mastication, or
chewing in the mouth; chilification of this so chewed meat in the stomach;
the third is in the liver, to turn this chylus into blood, called
sanguification; the last is assimilation, which is in every part.

_Expulsion_.] Expulsion is a power of nutrition, by which it expels all
superfluous excrements, and relics of meat and drink, by the guts, bladder,
pores; as by purging, vomiting, spitting, sweating, urine, hairs, nails,

_Augmentation_.] As this nutritive faculty serves to nourish the body, so
doth the augmenting faculty (the second operation or power of the vegetal
faculty) to the increasing of it in quantity, according to all dimensions,
long, broad, thick, and to make it grow till it come to his due proportion
and perfect shape; which hath his period of augmentation, as of
consumption; and that most certain, as the poet observes:--

       "Stat sua cuique dies, breve et irreparabile tempus
        Omnibus est vitae."------

       "A term of life is set to every man,
        Which is but short, and pass it no one can."

_Generation_.] The last of these vegetal faculties is generation, which
begets another by means of seed, like unto itself, to the perpetual
preservation of the species. To this faculty they ascribe three subordinate
operations:--the first to turn nourishment into seed, &c.

_Life and Death concomitants of the Vegetal Faculties_.] Necessary
concomitants or affections of this vegetal faculty are life and his
privation, death. To the preservation of life the natural heat is most
requisite, though siccity and humidity, and those first qualities, be not
excluded. This heat is likewise in plants, as appears by their increasing,
fructifying, &c., though not so easily perceived. In all bodies it must
have radical [981]moisture to preserve it, that it be not consumed; to
which preservation our clime, country, temperature, and the good or bad use
of those six non-natural things avail much. For as this natural heat and
moisture decays, so doth our life itself; and if not prevented before by
some violent accident, or interrupted through our own default, is in the
end dried up by old age, and extinguished by death for want of matter, as a
lamp for defect of oil to maintain it.

SUBSECT. VI.--_Of the sensible Soul_.

Next in order is the sensible faculty, which is as far beyond the other in
dignity, as a beast is preferred to a plant, having those vegetal powers
included in it. 'Tis defined an "Act of an organical body by which it
lives, hath sense, appetite, judgment, breath, and motion." His object in
general is a sensible or passible quality, because the sense is affected
with it. The general organ is the brain, from which principally the
sensible operations are derived. This sensible soul is divided into two
parts, apprehending or moving. By the apprehensive power we perceive the
species of sensible things present, or absent, and retain them as wax doth
the print of a seal. By the moving, the body is outwardly carried from one
place to another; or inwardly moved by spirits and pulse. The apprehensive
faculty is subdivided into two parts, inward or outward. Outward, as the
five senses, of touching, hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, to which you
may add Scaliger's sixth sense of titillation, if you please; or that of
speech, which is the sixth external sense, according to Lullius. Inward are
three--common sense, phantasy, memory. Those five outward senses have their
object in outward things only, and such as are present, as the eye sees no
colour except it be at hand, the ear sound. Three of these senses are of
commodity, hearing, sight, and smell; two of necessity, touch, and taste,
without which we cannot live. Besides, the sensitive power is active or
passive. Active in sight, the eye sees the colour; passive when it is hurt
by his object, as the eye by the sunbeams. According to that axiom,
_visibile forte destruit sensum_. [982]Or if the object be not pleasing, as
a bad sound to the ear, a stinking smell to the nose, &c.

_Sight_.] Of these five senses, sight is held to be most precious, and the
best, and that by reason of his object, it sees the whole body at once. By
it we learn, and discern all things, a sense most excellent for use: to the
sight three things are required; the object, the organ, and the medium. The
object in general is visible, or that which is to be seen, as colours, and
all shining bodies. The medium is the illumination of the air, which comes
from [983]light, commonly called diaphanum; for in dark we cannot see. The
organ is the eye, and chiefly the apple of it, which by those optic nerves,
concurring both in one, conveys the sight to the common sense. Between the
organ and object a true distance is required, that it be not too near, or
too far off! Many excellent questions appertain to this sense, discussed by
philosophers: as whether this sight be caused _intra mittendo, vel extra
mittendo_, &c., by receiving in the visible species, or sending of them
out, which [984]Plato, [985]Plutarch, [986]Macrobius, [987]Lactantius and
others dispute. And, besides, it is the subject of the perspectives, of
which Alhazen the Arabian, Vitellio, Roger Bacon, Baptista Porta, Guidus
Ubaldus, Aquilonius, &c., have written whole volumes.

_Hearing_.] Hearing, a most excellent outward sense, "by which we learn and
get knowledge." His object is sound, or that which is heard; the medium,
air; organ, the ear. To the sound, which is a collision of the air, three
things are required; a body to strike, as the hand of a musician; the body
struck, which must be solid and able to resist; as a bell, lute-string, not
wool, or sponge; the medium, the air; which is inward, or outward; the
outward being struck or collided by a solid body, still strikes the next
air, until it come to that inward natural air, which as an exquisite organ
is contained in a little skin formed like a drum-head, and struck upon by
certain small instruments like drum-sticks, conveys the sound by a pair of
nerves, appropriated to that use, to the common sense, as to a judge of
sounds. There is great variety and much delight in them; for the knowledge
of which, consult with Boethius and other musicians.

_Smelling_.] Smelling is an "outward sense, which apprehends by the
nostrils drawing in air;" and of all the rest it is the weakest sense in
men. The organ in the nose, or two small hollow pieces of flesh a little
above it: the medium the air to men, as water to fish: the object, smell,
arising from a mixed body resolved, which, whether it be a quality, fume,
vapour, or exhalation, I will not now dispute, or of their differences, and
how they are caused. This sense is an organ of health, as sight and
hearing, saith [988]Agellius, are of discipline; and that by avoiding bad
smells, as by choosing good, which do as much alter and affect the body
many times, as diet itself.

_Taste_.] Taste, a necessary sense, "which perceives all savours by the
tongue and palate, and that by means of a thin spittle, or watery juice."
His organ is the tongue with his tasting nerves; the medium, a watery
juice; the object, taste, or savour, which is a quality in the juice,
arising from the mixture of things tasted. Some make eight species or kinds
of savour, bitter, sweet, sharp, salt, &c., all which sick men (as in an
ague) cannot discern, by reason of their organs misaffected.

_Touching_.] Touch, the last of the senses, and most ignoble, yet of as
great necessity as the other, and of as much pleasure. This sense is
exquisite in men, and by his nerves dispersed all over the body, perceives
any tactile quality. His organ the nerves; his object those first
qualities, hot, dry, moist, cold; and those that follow them, hard, soft,
thick, thin, &c. Many delightsome questions are moved by philosophers about
these five senses; their organs, objects, mediums, which for brevity I

SUBSECT. VII.--_Of the Inward Senses._

_Common Sense_.] Inner senses are three in number, so called, because they
be within the brainpan, as common sense, phantasy, memory. Their objects
are not only things present, but they perceive the sensible species of
things to come, past, absent, such as were before in the sense. This common
sense is the judge or moderator of the rest, by whom we discern all
differences of objects; for by mine eye I do not know that I see, or by
mine ear that I hear, but by my common sense, who judgeth of sounds and
colours: they are but the organs to bring the species to be censured; so
that all their objects are his, and all their offices are his. The fore
part of the brain is his organ or seat.

_Phantasy_.] Phantasy, or imagination, which some call estimative, or
cogitative, (confirmed, saith [989]Fernelius, by frequent meditation,) is
an inner sense which doth more fully examine the species perceived by
common sense, of things present or absent, and keeps them longer, recalling
them to mind again, or making new of his own. In time of sleep this faculty
is free, and many times conceive strange, stupend, absurd shapes, as in
sick men we commonly observe. His organ is the middle cell of the brain;
his objects all the species communicated to him by the common sense, by
comparison of which he feigns infinite other unto himself. In melancholy
men this faculty is most powerful and strong, and often hurts, producing
many monstrous and prodigious things, especially if it be stirred up by
some terrible object, presented to it from common sense or memory. In poets
and painters imagination forcibly works, as appears by their several
fictions, antics, images: as Ovid's house of sleep, Psyche's palace in
Apuleius, &c. In men it is subject and governed by reason, or at least
should be; but in brutes it hath no superior, and is _ratio brutorum_, all
the reason they have.

_Memory_.] Memory lays up all the species which the senses have brought in,
and records them as a good register, that they may be forthcoming when they
are called for by phantasy and reason. His object is the same with
phantasy, his seat and organ the back part of the brain.

_Affections of the Senses, sleep and waking._] The affections of these
senses are sleep and waking, common to all sensible creatures. "Sleep is a
rest or binding of the outward senses, and of the common sense, for the
preservation of body and soul" (as Scaliger [990]defines it); for when the
common sense resteth, the outward senses rest also. The phantasy alone is
free, and his commander reason: as appears by those imaginary dreams, which
are of divers kinds, natural, divine, demoniacal, &c., which vary according
to humours, diet, actions, objects, &c., of which Artemidorus, Cardanus,
and Sambucus, with their several interpretators, have written great
volumes. This litigation of senses proceeds from an inhibition of spirits,
the way being stopped by which they should come; this stopping is caused of
vapours arising out of the stomach, filling the nerves, by which the
spirits should be conveyed. When these vapours are spent, the passage is
open, and the spirits perform their accustomed duties: so that "waking is
the action and motion of the senses, which the spirits dispersed over all
parts cause."

SUBSECT. VIII.--_Of the Moving Faculty_.

_Appetite_] This moving faculty is the other power of the sensitive soul,
which causeth all those inward and outward animal motions in the body. It
is divided into two faculties, the power of appetite, and of moving from
place to place. This of appetite is threefold, so some will have it;
natural, as it signifies any such inclination, as of a stone to fall
downward, and such actions as retention, expulsion, which depend not on
sense, but are vegetal, as the appetite of meat and drink; hunger and
thirst. Sensitive is common to men and brutes. Voluntary, the third, or
intellective, which commands the other two in men, and is a curb unto them,
or at least should be, but for the most part is captivated and overruled by
them; and men are led like beasts by sense, giving reins to their
concupiscence and several lusts. For by this appetite the soul is led or
inclined to follow that good which the senses shall approve, or avoid that
which they hold evil: his object being good or evil, the one he embraceth,
the other he rejecteth; according to that aphorism, _Omnia appetunt bonum_,
all things seek their own good, or at least seeming good. This power is
inseparable from sense, for where sense is, there are likewise pleasure and
pain. His organ is the same with the common sense, and is divided into two
powers, or inclinations, concupiscible or irascible: or (as one [991]
translates it) coveting, anger invading, or impugning. Concupiscible covets
always pleasant and delightsome things, and abhors that which is
distasteful, harsh, and unpleasant. _Irascible, quasi [992] aversans per
iram et odium_, as avoiding it with anger and indignation. All affections
and perturbations arise out of these two fountains, which, although the
stoics make light of, we hold natural, and not to be resisted. The good
affections are caused by some object of the same nature; and if present,
they procure joy, which dilates the heart, and preserves the body: if
absent, they cause hope, love, desire, and concupiscence. The bad are
simple or mixed: simple for some bad object present, as sorrow, which
contracts the heart, macerates the soul, subverts the good estate of the
body, hindering all the operations of it, causing melancholy, and many
times death itself; or future, as fear. Out of these two arise those mixed
affections and passions of anger, which is a desire of revenge; hatred,
which is inveterate anger; zeal, which is offended with him who hurts that
he loves; and [Greek: epikairekakia], a compound affection of joy and hate,
when we rejoice at other men's mischief, and are grieved at their
prosperity; pride, self-love, emulation, envy, shame, &c., of which

_Moving from place to place_, is a faculty necessarily following the other.
For in vain were it otherwise to desire and to abhor, if we had not
likewise power to prosecute or eschew, by moving the body from place to
place: by this faculty therefore we locally move the body, or any part of
it, and go from one place to another. To the better performance of which,
three things are requisite: that which moves; by what it moves; that which
is moved. That which moves, is either the efficient cause, or end. The end
is the object, which is desired or eschewed; as in a dog to catch a hare,
&c. The efficient cause in man is reason, or his subordinate phantasy,
which apprehends good or bad objects: in brutes imagination alone, which
moves the appetite, the appetite this faculty, which by an admirable league
of nature, and by meditation of the spirit, commands the organ by which it
moves: and that consists of nerves, muscles, cords, dispersed through the
whole body, contracted and relaxed as the spirits will, which move the
muscles, or [993]nerves in the midst of them, and draw the cord, and so
_per consequens_ the joint, to the place intended. That which is moved, is
the body or some member apt to move. The motion of the body is divers, as
going, running, leaping, dancing, sitting, and such like, referred to the
predicament of _situs_. Worms creep, birds fly, fishes swim; and so of
parts, the chief of which is respiration or breathing, and is thus
performed. The outward air is drawn in by the vocal artery, and sent by
mediation of the midriff to the lungs, which, dilating themselves as a pair
of bellows, reciprocally fetch it in, and send it out to the heart to cool
it; and from thence now being hot, convey it again, still taking in fresh.
Such a like motion is that of the pulse, of which, because many have
written whole books, I will say nothing.

SUBSECT. IX.--_Of the Rational Soul._

In the precedent subsections I have anatomised those inferior faculties of
the soul; the rational remaineth, "a pleasant, but a doubtful subject" (as
[994]one terms it), and with the like brevity to be discussed. Many
erroneous opinions are about the essence and original of it; whether it be
fire, as Zeno held; harmony, as Aristoxenus; number, as Xenocrates; whether
it be organical, or inorganical; seated in the brain, heart or blood;
mortal or immortal; how it comes into the body. Some hold that it is _ex
traduce_, as _Phil. 1. de Anima_, Tertullian, Lactantius _de opific. Dei,
cap. 19._ Hugo, _lib. de Spiritu et Anima_, Vincentius Bellavic. _spec.
natural. lib. 23. cap. 2. et 11._ Hippocrates, Avicenna, and many [995]
late writers; that one man begets another, body and soul; or as a candle
from a candle, to be produced from the seed: otherwise, say they, a man
begets but half a man, and is worse than a beast that begets both matter
and form; and, besides, the three faculties of the soul must be together
infused, which is most absurd as they hold, because in beasts they are
begot, the two inferior I mean, and may not be well separated in men. [996]
Galen supposeth the soul _crasin esse_, to be the temperature itself;
Trismegistus, Musaeus, Orpheus, Homer, Pindarus, Phaerecides Syrus,
Epictetus, with the Chaldees and Egyptians, affirmed the soul to be
immortal, as did those British [997]Druids of old. The [998]Pythagoreans
defend Metempsychosis; and Palingenesia, that souls go from one body to
another, _epota prius Lethes unda_, as men into wolves, bears, dogs, hogs,
as they were inclined in their lives, or participated in conditions:

[999]   ------"inque ferinas
        Possumus ire domus, pecudumque in corpora condi."

[1000]Lucian's cock was first Euphorbus, a captain:

       "Ille ego (nam memini) Trojani tempore belli,
        Panthoides Euphorbus eram,"

a horse, a man, a sponge. [1001]Julian the Apostate thought Alexander's
soul was descended into his body: Plato in Timaeo, and in his Phaedon, (for
aught I can perceive,) differs not much from this opinion, that it was from
God at first, and knew all, but being enclosed in the body, it forgets, and
learns anew, which he calls _reminiscentia_, or recalling, and that it was
put into the body for a punishment; and thence it goes into a beast's, or
man's, as appears by his pleasant fiction _de sortitione animarum, lib. 10.
de rep._ and after [1002]ten thousand years is to return into the former
body again,

[1003]  ------"post varios annos, per mille figuras,
        Rursus ad humanae fertur primordia vitae."

Others deny the immortality of it, which Pomponatus of Padua decided out of
Aristotle not long since, Plinias Avunculus, _cap. 1. lib. 2, et lib. 7.
cap. 55_; Seneca, _lib. 7. epist. ad Lucilium, epist. 55_; Dicearchus _in
Tull. Tusc._ Epicurus, Aratus, Hippocrates, Galen, Lucretius, _lib. 1._

       (Praeterea gigni pariter cum corpore, et una
        Cresere sentimus, pariterque senescere mentem.)[1004]

Averroes, and I know not how many Neoterics. [1005]"This question of the
immortality of the soul, is diversely and wonderfully impugned and
disputed, especially among the Italians of late," saith Jab. Colerus, _lib.
de immort. animae, cap. 1._ The popes themselves have doubted of it: Leo
Decimus, that Epicurean pope, as [1006]some record of him, caused this
question to be discussed pro and con before him, and concluded at last, as
a profane and atheistical moderator, with that verse of Cornelius Gallus,
Et redit in nihilum, quod fuit ante nihil. It began of nothing, and in
nothing it ends. Zeno and his Stoics, as [1007]Austin quotes him, supposed
the soul so long to continue, till the body was fully putrified, and
resolved into _materia prima_: but after that, _in fumos evanescere_, to be
extinguished and vanished; and in the meantime, whilst the body was
consuming, it wandered all abroad, _et e longinquo multa annunciare_, and
(as that Clazomenian Hermotimus averred) saw pretty visions, and suffered I
know not what. [1008]Errant exangues sine corpore et ossibus umbrae. Others
grant the immortality thereof, but they make many fabulous fictions in the
meantime of it, after the departure from the body: like Plato's Elysian
fields, and that Turkey paradise. The souls of good men they deified; the
bad (saith [1009]Austin) became devils, as they supposed; with many such
absurd tenets, which he hath confuted. Hierome, Austin, and other Fathers
of the church, hold that the soul is immortal, created of nothing, and so
infused into the child or embryo in his mother's womb, six months after the
[1010]conception; not as those of brutes, which are _ex traduce_, and dying
with them vanish into nothing. To whose divine treatises, and to the
Scriptures themselves, I rejourn all such atheistical spirits, as Tully did
Atticus, doubting of this point, to Plato's Phaedon. Or if they desire
philosophical proofs and demonstrations, I refer them to Niphus, Nic.
Faventinus' tracts of this subject. To Fran. and John Picus _in digress:
sup. 3. de Anima_, Tholosanus, Eugubinus, To. Soto, Canas, Thomas,
Peresius, Dandinus, Colerus, to that elaborate tract in Zanchius, to
Tolet's Sixty Reasons, and Lessius' Twenty-two Arguments, to prove the
immortality of the soul. Campanella, _lib. de sensu rerum_, is large in the
same discourse, Albertinus the Schoolman, Jacob. Nactantus, _tom. 2. op._
handleth it in four questions, Antony Brunus, Aonius Palearius, Marinus
Marcennus, with many others. This reasonable soul, which Austin calls a
spiritual substance moving itself, is defined by philosophers to be "the
first substantial act of a natural, humane, organical body, by which a man
lives, perceives, and understands, freely doing all things, and with
election." Out of which definition we may gather, that this rational soul
includes the powers, and performs the duties of the two other, which are
contained in it, and all three faculties make one soul, which is
inorganical of itself, although it be in all parts, and incorporeal, using
their organs, and working by them. It is divided into two chief parts,
differing in office only, not in essence. The understanding, which is the
rational power apprehending; the will, which is the rational power moving:
to which two, all the other rational powers are subject and reduced.

SUBSECT. X.--_Of the Understanding_.

"Understanding is a power of the soul, [1011]by which we perceive, know,
remember, and judge as well singulars, as universals, having certain innate
notices or beginnings of arts, a reflecting action, by which it judgeth of
his own doings, and examines them." Out of this definition (besides his
chief office, which is to apprehend, judge all that he performs, without
the help of any instruments or organs) three differences appear betwixt a
man and a beast. As first, the sense only comprehends singularities, the
understanding universalities. Secondly, the sense hath no innate notions.
Thirdly, brutes cannot reflect upon themselves. Bees indeed make neat and
curious works, and many other creatures besides; but when they have done,
they cannot judge of them. His object is God, _ens_, all nature, and
whatsoever is to be understood: which successively it apprehends. The
object first moving the understanding, is some sensible thing; after by
discoursing, the mind finds out the corporeal substance, and from thence
the spiritual. His actions (some say) are apprehension, composition,
division, discoursing, reasoning, memory, which some include in invention,
and judgment. The common divisions are of the understanding, agent, and
patient; speculative, and practical; in habit, or in act; simple, or
compound. The agent is that which is called the wit of man, acumen or
subtlety, sharpness of invention, when he doth invent of himself without a
teacher, or learns anew, which abstracts those intelligible species from
the phantasy, and transfers them to the passive understanding, [1012]
"because there is nothing in the understanding, which was not first in the
sense." That which the imagination hath taken from the sense, this agent
judgeth of, whether it be true or false; and being so judged he commits it
to the passible to be kept. The agent is a doctor or teacher, the passive a
scholar; and his office is to keep and further judge of such things as are
committed to his charge; as a bare and rased table at first, capable of all
forms and notions. Now these notions are twofold, actions or habits:
actions, by which we take notions of, and perceive things; habits, which
are durable lights and notions, which we may use when we will. Some reckon
up eight kinds of them, sense, experience, intelligence, faith, suspicion,
error, opinion, science; to which are added art, prudency, wisdom: as also
[1013]synteresis, _dictamen rationis_, conscience; so that in all there be
fourteen species of the understanding, of which some are innate, as the
three last mentioned; the other are gotten by doctrine, learning, and use.
Plato will have all to be innate: Aristotle reckons up but five
intellectual habits; two practical, as prudency, whose end is to practise;
to fabricate; wisdom to comprehend the use and experiments of all notions
and habits whatsoever. Which division of Aristotle (if it be considered
aright) is all one with the precedent; for three being innate, and five
acquisite, the rest are improper, imperfect, and in a more strict
examination excluded. Of all these I should more amply dilate, but my
subject will not permit. Three of them I will only point at, as more
necessary to my following discourse.

Synteresis, or the purer part of the conscience, is an innate habit, and
doth signify "a conversation of the knowledge of the law of God and Nature,
to know good or evil." And (as our divines hold) it is rather in the
understanding than in the will. This makes the major proposition in a
practical syllogism. The _dictamen rationis_ is that which doth admonish us
to do good or evil, and is the minor in the syllogism. The conscience is
that which approves good or evil, justifying or condemning our actions, and
is the conclusion of the syllogism: as in that familiar example of Regulus
the Roman, taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, and suffered to go to Rome,
on that condition he should return again, or pay so much for his ransom.
The synteresis proposeth the question; his word, oath, promise, is to be
religiously kept, although to his enemy, and that by the law of nature.
[1014]"Do not that to another which thou wouldst not have done to thyself."
Dictamen applies it to him, and dictates this or the like: Regulus, thou
wouldst not another man should falsify his oath, or break promise with
thee: conscience concludes, therefore, Regulus, thou dost well to perform
thy promise, and oughtest to keep thine oath. More of this in Religious

SUBSECT. XI.--_Of the Will_.

Will is the other power of the rational soul, [1015]"which covets or avoids
such things as have been before judged and apprehended by the
understanding." If good, it approves; if evil, it abhors it: so that his
object is either good or evil. Aristotle calls this our rational appetite;
for as, in the sensitive, we are moved to good or bad by our appetite,
ruled and directed by sense; so in this we are carried by reason. Besides,
the sensitive appetite hath a particular object, good or bad; this an
universal, immaterial: that respects only things delectable and pleasant;
this honest. Again, they differ in liberty. The sensual appetite seeing an
object, if it be a convenient good, cannot but desire it; if evil, avoid
it: but this is free in his essence, [1016]"much now depraved, obscured,
and fallen from his first perfection; yet in some of his operations still
free," as to go, walk, move at his pleasure, and to choose whether it will
do or not do, steal or not steal. Otherwise, in vain were laws,
deliberations, exhortations, counsels, precepts, rewards, promises, threats
and punishments: and God should be the author of sin. But in [1017]
spiritual things we will no good, prone to evil (except we be regenerate,
and led by the Spirit), we are egged on by our natural concupiscence, and
there is [Greek: ataxia], a confusion in our powers, [1018]"our whole will
is averse from God and his law," not in natural things only, as to eat and
drink, lust, to which we are led headlong by our temperature and inordinate

[1019] "Nec nos obniti contra, nec tendere tantum

we cannot resist, our concupiscence is originally bad, our heart evil, the
seat of our affections captivates and enforceth our will. So that in
voluntary things we are averse from God and goodness, bad by nature, by
[1020]ignorance worse, by art, discipline, custom, we get many bad habits:
suffering them to domineer and tyrannise over us; and the devil is still
ready at hand with his evil suggestions, to tempt our depraved will to some
ill-disposed action, to precipitate us to destruction, except our will be
swayed and counterpoised again with some divine precepts, and good motions
of the spirit, which many times restrain, hinder and check us, when we are
in the full career of our dissolute courses. So David corrected himself,
when he had Saul at a vantage. Revenge and malice were as two violent
oppugners on the one side; but honesty, religion, fear of God, withheld him
on the other.

The actions of the will are _velle_ and _nolle_, to will and nill: which
two words comprehend all, and they are good or bad, accordingly as they are
directed, and some of them freely performed by himself; although the stoics
absolutely deny it, and will have all things inevitably done by destiny,
imposing a fatal necessity upon us, which we may not resist; yet we say
that our will is free in respect of us, and things contingent, howsoever in
respect of God's determinate counsel, they are inevitable and necessary.
Some other actions of the will are performed by the inferior powers, which
obey him, as the sensitive and moving appetite; as to open our eyes, to go
hither and thither, not to touch a book, to speak fair or foul: but this
appetite is many times rebellious in us, and will not be contained within
the lists of sobriety and temperance. It was (as I said) once well agreeing
with reason, and there was an excellent consent and harmony between them,
but that is now dissolved, they often jar, reason is overborne by passion:
_Fertur equis auriga, nec audit currus habenas_, as so many wild horses run
away with a chariot, and will not be curbed. We know many times what is
good, but will not do it, as she said,

[1021] "Trahit invitum nova vis, aliudque cupido,
        Mens aliud suadet,"------

Lust counsels one thing, reason another, there is a new reluctancy in men.
[1022]_Odi, nec possum, cupiens non esse, quod odi_. We cannot resist, but
as Phaedra confessed to her nurse, [1023]_quae loqueris, vera sunt, sed
furor suggerit sequi pejora_: she said well and true, she did acknowledge
it, but headstrong passion and fury made her to do that which was opposite.
So David knew the filthiness of his fact, what a loathsome, foul, crying
sin adultery was, yet notwithstanding he would commit murder, and take away
another man's wife, enforced against reason, religion, to follow his

Those natural and vegetal powers are not commanded by will at all; for "who
can add one cubit to his stature?" These other may, but are not: and thence
come all those headstrong passions, violent perturbations of the mind; and
many times vicious habits, customs, feral diseases; because we give so much
way to our appetite, and follow our inclination, like so many beasts. The
principal habits are two in number, virtue and vice, whose peculiar
definitions, descriptions, differences, and kinds, are handled at large in
the ethics, and are, indeed, the subject of moral philosophy.


SUBSECT. I.--_Definition of Melancholy, Name, Difference_.

Having thus briefly anatomised the body and soul of man, as a preparative
to the rest; I may now freely proceed to treat of my intended object, to
most men's capacity; and after many ambages, perspicuously define what this
melancholy is, show his name and differences. The name is imposed from the
matter, and disease denominated from the material cause: as Bruel observes,
[Greek: Melancholia] quasi [Greek: Melainacholae], from black choler. And
whether it be a cause or an effect, a disease or symptom, let Donatus
Altomarus and Salvianus decide; I will not contend about it. It hath
several descriptions, notations, and definitions. [1024]Fracastorius, in
his second book of intellect, calls those melancholy, "whom abundance of
that same depraved humour of black choler hath so misaffected, that they
become mad thence, and dote in most things, or in all, belonging to
election, will, or other manifest operations of the understanding." [1025]
Melanelius out of Galen, Ruffus, Aetius, describe it to be "a bad and
peevish disease, which makes men degenerate into beasts:" Galen, "a
privation or infection of the middle cell of the head," &c. defining it
from the part affected, which [1026]Hercules de Saxonia approves, _lib. 1.
cap. 16._ calling it "a depravation of the principal function:" Fuschius,
_lib. 1. cap. 23._ Arnoldus _Breviar. lib. 1. cap. 18._ Guianerius, and
others: "By reason of black choler," Paulus adds. Halyabbas simply calls it
a "commotion of the mind." Aretaeus, [1027]"a perpetual anguish of the
soul, fastened on one thing, without an ague;" which definition of his,
Mercurialis _de affect. cap. lib. 1. cap. 10._ taxeth: but Aelianus
Montaltus defends, _lib. de morb. cap. 1. de Melan._ for sufficient and
good. The common sort define it to be "a kind of dotage without a fever,
having for his ordinary companions, fear and sadness, without any apparent
occasion." So doth Laurentius, _cap. 4._ Piso. _lib. 1. cap. 43._ Donatus
Altomarus, _cap. 7. art. medic_. Jacchinus, _in com. in lib. 9. Rhasis ad
Almansor, cap. 15._ Valesius, _exerc. 17._ Fuschius, _institut. 3. sec. 1.
c. 11._ &c. which common definition, howsoever approved by most,
[1028]Hercules de Saxonia will not allow of, nor David Crucius, _Theat.
morb. Herm. lib. 2. cap. 6._ he holds it insufficient: as [1029]rather
showing what it is not, than what it is: as omitting the specific
difference, the phantasy and brain: but I descend to particulars. The
_summum genus_ is "dotage, or anguish of the mind," saith Aretaeus; "of the
principal parts," Hercules de Saxonia adds, to distinguish it from cramp
and palsy, and such diseases as belong to the outward sense and motions
[depraved] [1030]to distinguish it from folly and madness (which Montaltus
makes _angor animi_, to separate) in which those functions are not
depraved, but rather abolished; [without an ague] is added by all, to sever
it from frenzy, and that melancholy which is in a pestilent fever. (Fear
and sorrow) make it differ from madness: [without a cause] is lastly
inserted, to specify it from all other ordinary passions of [fear and
sorrow.] We properly call that dotage, as [1031]Laurentius interprets it,
"when some one principal faculty of the mind, as imagination, or reason, is
corrupted, as all melancholy persons have." It is without a fever, because
the humour is most part cold and dry, contrary to putrefaction. Fear and
sorrow are the true characters and inseparable companions of most
melancholy, not all, as Her. de Saxonia, _Tract. de posthumo de
Melancholia, cap. 2._ well excepts; for to some it is most pleasant, as to
such as laugh most part; some are bold again, and free from all manner of
fear and grief, as hereafter shall be declared.

SUBSECT. II.--_Of the part affected. Affection. Parties affected_.

Some difference I find amongst writers, about the principal part affected
in this disease, whether it be the brain, or heart, or some other member.
Most are of opinion that it is the brain: for being a kind of dotage, it
cannot otherwise be but that the brain must be affected, as a similar part,
be it by [1032]consent or essence, not in his ventricles, or any
obstructions in them, for then it would be an apoplexy, or epilepsy, as
[1033]Laurentius well observes, but in a cold, dry distemperature of it in
his substance, which is corrupt and become too cold, or too dry, or else
too hot, as in madmen, and such as are inclined to it: and this [1034]
Hippocrates confirms, Galen, the Arabians, and most of our new writers.
Marcus de Oddis (in a consultation of his, quoted by [1035]Hildesheim) and
five others there cited are of the contrary part; because fear and sorrow,
which are passions, be seated in the heart. But this objection is
sufficiently answered by [1036]Montaltus, who doth not deny that the heart
is affected (as [1037]Melanelius proves out of Galen) by reason of his
vicinity, and so is the midriff and many other parts. They do _compati_,
and have a fellow feeling by the law of nature: but forasmuch as this
malady is caused by precedent imagination, with the appetite, to whom
spirits obey, and are subject to those principal parts, the brain must
needs primarily be misaffected, as the seat of reason; and then the heart,
as the seat of affection. [1038]Capivaccius and Mercurialis have copiously
discussed this question, and both conclude the subject is the inner brain,
and from thence it is communicated to the heart and other inferior parts,
which sympathise and are much troubled, especially when it comes by
consent, and is caused by reason of the stomach, or _mirach_, as the
Arabians term it, whole body, liver, or [1039]spleen, which are seldom
free, pylorus, mesaraic veins, &c. For our body is like a clock, if one
wheel be amiss, all the rest are disordered; the whole fabric suffers: with
such admirable art and harmony is a man composed, such excellent
proportion, as Ludovicus Vives in his Fable of Man hath elegantly declared.

As many doubts almost arise about the [1040]affection, whether it be
imagination or reason alone, or both, Hercules de Saxonia proves it out of
Galen, Aetius, and Altomarus, that the sole fault is in [1041]imagination.
Bruel is of the same mind: Montaltus in his _2 cap._ of Melancholy confutes
this tenet of theirs, and illustrates the contrary by many examples: as of
him that thought himself a shellfish, of a nun, and of a desperate monk
that would not be persuaded but that he was damned; reason was in fault as
well as imagination, which did not correct this error: they make away
themselves oftentimes, and suppose many absurd and ridiculous things. Why
doth not reason detect the fallacy, settle and persuade, if she be free?
[1042]Avicenna therefore holds both corrupt, to whom most Arabians
subscribe. The same is maintained by [1043]Areteus, [1044]Gorgonius,
Guianerius, &c. To end the controversy, no man doubts of imagination, but
that it is hurt and misaffected here; for the other I determine with [1045]
Albertinus Bottonus, a doctor of Padua, that it is first in "imagination,
and afterwards in reason; if the disease be inveterate, or as it is more or
less of continuance;" but by accident, as [1046]Herc. de Saxonia adds;
"faith, opinion, discourse, ratiocination, are all accidentally depraved by
the default of imagination."

_Parties affected_.] To the part affected, I may here add the parties,
which shall be more opportunely spoken of elsewhere, now only signified.
Such as have the moon, Saturn, Mercury misaffected in their genitures, such
as live in over cold or over hot climes: such as are born of melancholy
parents; as offend in those six non-natural things, are black, or of a high
sanguine complexion, [1047]that have little heads, that have a hot heart,
moist brain, hot liver and cold stomach, have been long sick: such as are
solitary by nature, great students, given to much contemplation, lead a
life out of action, are most subject to melancholy. Of sexes both, but men
more often; yet [1048]women misaffected are far more violent, and
grievously troubled. Of seasons of the year, the autumn is most melancholy.
Of peculiar times: old age, from which natural melancholy is almost an
inseparable accident; but this artificial malady is more frequent in such
as are of a [1049]middle age. Some assign 40 years, Gariopontus 30.
Jubertus excepts neither young nor old from this adventitious. Daniel
Sennertus involves all of all sorts, out of common experience, [1050]_in
omnibus omnino corporibus cujuscunque constitutionis dominatar_. Aetius and
Aretius [1051]ascribe into the number "not only [1052]discontented,
passionate, and miserable persons, swarthy, black; but such as are most
merry and pleasant, scoffers, and high coloured." "Generally," saith
Rhasis, [1053]"the finest wits and most generous spirits, are before other
obnoxious to it;" I cannot except any complexion, any condition, sex, or
age, but [1054]fools and stoics, which, according to [1055]Synesius, are
never troubled with any manner of passion, but as Anacreon's _cicada, sine
sanguine et dolore; similes fere diis sunt_. Erasmus vindicates fools from
this melancholy catalogue, because they have most part moist brains and
light hearts; [1056]they are free from ambition, envy, shame and fear; they
are neither troubled in conscience, nor macerated with cares, to which our
whole life is most subject.

SUBSECT. III.--_Of the Matter of Melancholy_.

Of the matter of melancholy, there is much question betwixt Avicen and
Galen, as you may read in [1057]Cardan's Contradictions, [1058]Valesius'
Controversies, Montanus, Prosper Calenus, Capivaccius, [1059]Bright,
[1060]Ficinus, that have written either whole tracts, or copiously of it,
in their several treatises of this subject. [1061]"What this humour is, or
whence it proceeds, how it is engendered in the body, neither Galen, nor
any old writer hath sufficiently discussed," as Jacchinus thinks: the
Neoterics cannot agree. Montanus, in his Consultations, holds melancholy to
be material or immaterial: and so doth Arculanus: the material is one of
the four humours before mentioned, and natural. The immaterial or
adventitious, acquisite, redundant, unnatural, artificial; which [1062]
Hercules de Saxonia will have reside in the spirits alone, and to proceed
from a "hot, cold, dry, moist distemperature, which, without matter, alter
the brain and functions of it." Paracelsus wholly rejects and derides this
division of four humours and complexions, but our Galenists generally
approve of it, subscribing to this opinion of Montanus.

This material melancholy is either simple or mixed; offending in quantity
or quality, varying according to his place, where it settleth, as brain,
spleen, mesaraic veins, heart, womb, and stomach; or differing according to
the mixture of those natural humours amongst themselves, or four unnatural
adust humours, as they are diversely tempered and mingled. If natural
melancholy abound in the body, which is cold and dry, "so that it be more
[1063]than the body is well able to bear, it must needs be distempered,"
saith Faventius, "and diseased;" and so the other, if it be depraved,
whether it arise from that other melancholy of choler adust, or from blood,
produceth the like effects, and is, as Montaltus contends, if it come by
adustion of humours, most part hot and dry. Some difference I find, whether
this melancholy matter may be engendered of all four humours, about the
colour and temper of it. Galen holds it may be engendered of three alone,
excluding phlegm, or pituita, whose true assertion [1064]Valesius and
Menardus stiffly maintain, and so doth [1065]Fuschius, Montaltus, [1066]
Montanus. How (say they) can white become black? But Hercules de Saxonia,
_lib. post. de mela. c. 8_, and [1067]Cardan are of the opposite part (it
may be engendered of phlegm, _etsi raro contingat_, though it seldom come
to pass), so is [1068]Guianerius and Laurentius, _c. 1._ with Melanct. in
his book _de Anima_, and Chap. of Humours; he calls it _asininam_, dull,
swinish melancholy, and saith that he was an eyewitness of it: so is
[1069]Wecker. From melancholy adust ariseth one kind; from choler another,
which is most brutish; another from phlegm, which is dull; and the last
from blood, which is best. Of these some are cold and dry, others hot and
dry, [1070]varying according to their mixtures, as they are intended, and
remitted. And indeed as Rodericus a Fons. _cons. 12. l. 1._ determines,
ichors, and those serous matters being thickened become phlegm, and phlegm
degenerates into choler, choler adust becomes _aeruginosa melancholia_, as
vinegar out of purest wine putrified or by exhalation of purer spirits is
so made, and becomes sour and sharp; and from the sharpness of this humour
proceeds much waking, troublesome thoughts and dreams, &c. so that I
conclude as before. If the humour be cold, it is, saith [1071]Faventinus,
"a cause of dotage, and produceth milder symptoms: if hot, they are rash,
raving mad, or inclining to it." If the brain be hot, the animal spirits
are hot; much madness follows, with violent actions: if cold, fatuity and
sottishness, [1072]Capivaccius. [1073]"The colour of this mixture varies
likewise according to the mixture, be it hot or cold; 'tis sometimes black,
sometimes not," Altomarus. The same [1074]Melanelius proves out of Galen;
and Hippocrates in his Book of Melancholy (if at least it be his), giving
instance in a burning coal, "which when it is hot, shines; when it is cold,
looks black; and so doth the humour." This diversity of melancholy matter
produceth diversity of effects. If it be within the [1075]body, and not
putrified, it causeth black jaundice; if putrified, a quartan ague; if it
break out to the skin, leprosy; if to parts, several maladies, as scurvy,
&c. If it trouble the mind; as it is diversely mixed, it produceth several
kinds of madness and dotage: of which in their place.

SUBSECT. IV.--_Of the species or kinds of Melancholy_.

When the matter is divers and confused, how should it otherwise be, but
that the species should be divers and confused? Many new and old writers
have spoken confusedly of it, confounding melancholy and madness, as [1076]
Heurnius, Guianerius, Gordonius, Salustius Salvianus, Jason Pratensis,
Savanarola, that will have madness no other than melancholy in extent,
differing (as I have said) in degrees. Some make two distinct species, as
Ruffus Ephesius, an old writer, Constantinus Africanus, Aretaeus, [1077]
Aurelianus, [1078]Paulus Aegineta: others acknowledge a multitude of kinds,
and leave them indefinite, as Aetius in his _Tetrabiblos_, [1079]Avicenna,
_lib. 3. Fen. 1. Tract. 4. cap. 18._ Arculanus, _cap. 16. in 9. Rasis_.
Montanus, _med. part. 1._ [1080]"If natural melancholy be adust, it maketh
one kind; if blood, another; if choler, a third, differing from the first;
and so many several opinions there are about the kinds, as there be men
themselves." [1081]Hercules de Saxonia sets down two kinds, "material and
immaterial; one from spirits alone, the other from humours and spirits."
Savanarola, _Rub. 11. Tract. 6. cap. 1. de aegritud. capitis_, will have
the kinds to be infinite; one from the mirach, called _myrachialis_ of the
Arabians; another _stomachalis_, from the stomach; another from the liver,
heart, womb, haemorrhoids, [1082]"one beginning, another consummate."
Melancthon seconds him, [1083]"as the humour is diversely adust and mixed,
so are the species divers;" but what these men speak of species I think
ought to be understood of symptoms; and so doth [1084] Arculanus interpret
himself: infinite species, _id est_, symptoms; and in that sense, as Jo.
Gorrheus acknowledgeth in his medicinal definitions, the species are
infinite, but they may be reduced to three kinds by reason of their seat;
head, body, and hypochrondries. This threefold division is approved by
Hippocrates in his Book of Melancholy, (if it be his, which some suspect)
by Galen, _lib. 3. de loc. affectis, cap. 6._ by Alexander, _lib. 1. cap.
16._ Rasis, _lib. 1. Continent. Tract. 9. lib. 1. cap. 16._ Avicenna and
most of our new writers. Th. Erastus makes two kinds; one perpetual, which
is head melancholy; the other interrupt, which comes and goes by fits,
which he subdivides into the other two kinds, so that all comes to the same
pass. Some again make four or five kinds, with Rodericus a Castro, _de
morbis mulier. lib. 2. cap. 3._ and Lod. Mercatus, who in his second book
_de mulier. affect. cap. 4._ will have that melancholy of nuns, widows, and
more ancient maids, to be a peculiar species of melancholy differing from
the rest: some will reduce enthusiasts, ecstatical and demoniacal persons
to this rank, adding [1085] love melancholy to the first, and lycanthropia.
The most received division is into three kinds. The first proceeds from the
sole fault of the brain, and is called head melancholy; the second
sympathetically proceeds from the whole body, when the whole temperature is
melancholy: the third ariseth from the bowels, liver, spleen, or membrane,
called _mesenterium_, named hypochondriacal or windy melancholy, which
[1086]Laurentius subdivides into three parts, from those three members,
hepatic, splenetic, mesaraic. Love melancholy, which Avicenna calls
_ilishi_: and Lycanthropia, which he calls _cucubuthe_, are commonly
included in head melancholy; but of this last, which Gerardus de Solo calls
_amoreus_, and most knight melancholy, with that of religious melancholy,
_virginum et viduarum_, maintained by Rod. a Castro and Mercatus, and the
other kinds of love melancholy, I will speak of apart by themselves in my
third partition. The three precedent species are the subject of my present
discourse, which I will anatomise and treat of through all their causes,
symptoms, cures, together and apart; that every man that is in any measure
affected with this malady, may know how to examine it in himself, and apply
remedies unto it.

It is a hard matter, I confess, to distinguish these three species one from
the other, to express their several causes, symptoms, cures, being that
they are so often confounded amongst themselves, having such affinity, that
they can scarce be discerned by the most accurate physicians; and so often
intermixed with other diseases, that the best experienced have been
plunged. Montanus _consil. 26_, names a patient that had this disease of
melancholy and caninus appetitus both together; and _consil. 23_, with
vertigo, [1087]Julius Caesar Claudinus with stone, gout, jaundice.
Trincavellius with an ague, jaundice, caninus appetitus, &c. [1088]Paulus
Regoline, a great doctor in his time, consulted in this case, was so
confounded with a confusion of symptoms, that he knew not to what kind of
melancholy to refer it. [1089]Trincavellius, Fallopius, and Francanzanus,
famous doctors in Italy, all three conferred with about one party, at the
same time, gave three different opinions. And in another place,
Trincavellius being demanded what he thought of a melancholy young man to
whom he was sent for, ingenuously confessed that he was indeed melancholy,
but he knew not to what kind to reduce it. In his seventeenth consultation
there is the like disagreement about a melancholy monk. Those symptoms,
which others ascribe to misaffected parts and humours, [1090]Herc. de
Saxonia attributes wholly to distempered spirits, and those immaterial, as
I have said. Sometimes they cannot well discern this disease from others.
In Reinerus Solenander's counsels, (_Sect, consil. 5_,) he and Dr. Brande
both agreed, that the patient's disease was hypochondriacal melancholy. Dr.
Matholdus said it was asthma, and nothing else. [1091]Solenander and
Guarionius, lately sent for to the melancholy Duke of Cleve, with others,
could not define what species it was, or agree amongst themselves. The
species are so confounded, as in Caesar Claudinus his forty-fourth
consultation for a Polonian Count, in his judgment [1092]"he laboured of
head melancholy, and that which proceeds from the whole temperature both at
once." I could give instance of some that have had all three kinds _semel
et simul_, and some successively. So that I conclude of our melancholy
species, as [1093]many politicians do of their pure forms of commonwealths,
monarchies, aristocracies, democracies, are most famous in contemplation,
but in practice they are temperate and usually mixed, (so [1094]Polybius
informeth us) as the Lacedaemonian, the Roman of old, German now, and many
others. What physicians say of distinct species in their books it much
matters not, since that in their patients' bodies they are commonly mixed.
In such obscurity, therefore, variety and confused mixture of symptoms,
causes, how difficult a thing is it to treat of several kinds apart; to
make any certainty or distinction among so many casualties, distractions,
when seldom two men shall be like effected _per omnia_? 'Tis hard, I
confess, yet nevertheless I will adventure through the midst of these
perplexities, and, led by the clue or thread of the best writers, extricate
myself out of a labyrinth of doubts and errors, and so proceed to the


SUBSECT. I.--_Causes of Melancholy. God a cause._

"It is in vain to speak of cures, or think of remedies, until such time as
we have considered of the causes," so [1095]Galen prescribes Glauco: and
the common experience of others confirms that those cures must be
imperfect, lame, and to no purpose, wherein the causes have not first been
searched, as [1096]Prosper Calenius well observes in his tract _de atra
bile_ to Cardinal Caesius. Insomuch that [1097]"Fernelius puts a kind of
necessity in the knowledge of the causes, and without which it is
impossible to cure or prevent any manner of disease." Empirics may ease,
and sometimes help, but not thoroughly root out; _sublata causa tollitur
effectus_ as the saying is, if the cause be removed, the effect is likewise
vanquished. It is a most difficult thing (I confess) to be able to discern
these causes whence they are, and in such [1098]variety to say what the
beginning was. [1099]He is happy that can perform it aright. I will
adventure to guess as near as I can, and rip them all up, from the first to
the last, general and particular, to every species, that so they may the
better be described.

General causes, are either supernatural, or natural. "Supernatural are from
God and his angels, or by God's permission from the devil" and his
ministers. That God himself is a cause for the punishment of sin, and
satisfaction of his justice, many examples and testimonies of holy
Scriptures make evident unto us, Ps. cvii, 17. "Foolish men are plagued for
their offence, and by reason of their wickedness." Gehazi was stricken with
leprosy, 2 Reg. v. 27. Jehoram with dysentery and flux, and great diseases
of the bowels, 2 Chron. xxi. 15. David plagued for numbering his people, 1
Par. 21. Sodom and Gomorrah swallowed up. And this disease is peculiarly
specified, Psalm cxxvii. 12. "He brought down their heart through
heaviness." Deut. xxviii. 28. "He struck them with madness, blindness, and
astonishment of heart." [1100]"An evil spirit was sent by the Lord upon
Saul, to vex him." [1101]Nebuchadnezzar did eat grass like an ox, and his
"heart was made like the beasts of the field." Heathen stories are full of
such punishments. Lycurgus, because he cut down the vines in the country,
was by Bacchus driven into madness: so was Pentheus and his mother Agave
for neglecting their sacrifice. [1102]Censor Fulvius ran mad for untiling
Juno's temple, to cover a new one of his own, which he had dedicated to
Fortune, [1103]"and was confounded to death with grief and sorrow of
heart." When Xerxes would have spoiled [1104]Apollo's temple at Delphos of
those infinite riches it possessed, a terrible thunder came from heaven and
struck four thousand men dead, the rest ran mad. [1105]A little after, the
like happened to Brennus, lightning, thunder, earthquakes, upon such a
sacrilegious occasion. If we may believe our pontifical writers, they will
relate unto us many strange and prodigious punishments in this kind,
inflicted by their saints. How [1106]Clodoveus, sometime king of France,
the son of Dagobert, lost his wits for uncovering the body of St. Denis:
and how a [1107]sacrilegious Frenchman, that would have stolen a silver
image of St. John, at Birgburge, became frantic on a sudden, raging, and
tyrannising over his own flesh: of a [1108]Lord of Rhadnor, that coming
from hunting late at night, put his dogs into St. Avan's church, (Llan Avan
they called it) and rising betimes next morning, as hunters use to do,
found all his dogs mad, himself being suddenly strucken blind. Of Tyridates
an [1109]Armenian king, for violating some holy nuns, that was punished in
like sort, with loss of his wits. But poets and papists may go together for
fabulous tales; let them free their own credits: howsoever they feign of
their Nemesis, and of their saints, or by the devil's means may be deluded;
we find it true, that _ultor a tergo Deus_, [1110]"He is God the avenger,"
as David styles him; and that it is our crying sins that pull this and many
other maladies on our own heads. That he can by his angels, which are his
ministers, strike and heal (saith [1111]Dionysius) whom he will; that he
can plague us by his creatures, sun, moon, and stars, which he useth as his
instruments, as a husbandman (saith Zanchius) doth a hatchet: hail, snow,
winds, &c. [1112]_Et conjurati veniunt in classica venti_: as in Joshua's
time, as in Pharaoh's reign in Egypt; they are but as so many executioners
of his justice. He can make the proudest spirits stoop, and cry out with
Julian the Apostate, _Vicisti Galilaee_: or with Apollo's priest in
[1113]Chrysostom, _O coelum! o terra! unde hostis hic_? What an enemy is
this? And pray with David, acknowledging his power, "I am weakened and sore
broken, I roar for the grief of mine heart, mine heart panteth," &c. Psalm
xxxviii. 8. "O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chastise me in
thy wrath," Psalm xxxviii. 1. "Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the
bones which thou hast broken, may rejoice," Psalm li. 8. and verse 12.
"Restore to me the joy of thy salvation, and stablish me with thy free
spirit." For these causes belike [1114]Hippocrates would have a physician
take special notice whether the disease come not from a divine supernatural
cause, or whether it follow the course of nature. But this is farther
discussed by Fran. Valesius, _de sacr. philos. cap. 8._ [1115] Fernelius,
and [1116]J. Caesar Claudinus, to whom I refer you, how this place of
Hippocrates is to be understood. Paracelsus is of opinion, that such
spiritual diseases (for so he calls them) are spiritually to be cured, and
not otherwise. Ordinary means in such cases will not avail: _Non est
reluctandum cum Deo_ (we must not struggle with God.) When that
monster-taming Hercules overcame all in the Olympics, Jupiter at last in an
unknown shape wrestled with him; the victory was uncertain, till at length
Jupiter descried himself, and Hercules yielded. No striving with supreme
powers. _Nil juvat immensos Cratero promittere montes_, physicians and
physic can do no good, [1117]"we must submit ourselves unto the mighty hand
of God," acknowledge our offences, call to him for mercy. If he strike us
_una eademque manus vulnus opemque feret_, as it is with them that are
wounded with the spear of Achilles, he alone must help; otherwise our
diseases are incurable, and we not to be relieved.

SUBSECT. II.--_A Digression of the nature of Spirits, bad Angels, or
Devils, and how they cause Melancholy_.

How far the power of spirits and devils doth extend, and whether they can
cause this, or any other disease, is a serious question, and worthy to be
considered: for the better understanding of which, I will make a brief
digression of the nature of spirits. And although the question be very
obscure, according to [1118]Postellus, "full of controversy and ambiguity,"
beyond the reach of human capacity, _fateor excedere vires intentionis
meae_, saith [1119]Austin, I confess I am not able to understand it,
_finitum de infinito non potest statuere_, we can sooner determine with
Tully, _de nat. deorum_, _quid non sint, quam quid sint_, our subtle
schoolmen, Cardans, Scaligers, profound Thomists, Fracastoriana and
Ferneliana _acies_, are weak, dry, obscure, defective in these mysteries,
and all our quickest wits, as an owl's eyes at the sun's light, wax dull,
and are not sufficient to apprehend them; yet, as in the rest, I will
adventure to say something to this point. In former times, as we read, Acts
xxiii., the Sadducees denied that there were any such spirits, devils, or
angels. So did Galen the physician, the Peripatetics, even Aristotle
himself, as Pomponatius stoutly maintains, and Scaliger in some sort
grants. Though Dandinus the Jesuit, _com. in lib. 2. de anima_, stiffly
denies it; _substantiae separatae_ and intelligences, are the same which
Christians call angels, and Platonists devils, for they name all the
spirits, _daemones_, be they good or bad angels, as Julius Pollux
_Onomasticon, lib. 1. cap. 1._ observes. Epicures and atheists are of the
same mind in general, because they never saw them. Plato, Plotinus,
Porphyrius, Jamblichus, Proclus, insisting in the steps of Trismegistus,
Pythagoras and Socrates, make no doubt of it: nor Stoics, but that there
are such spirits, though much erring from the truth. Concerning the first
beginning of them, the [1120]Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called
Lilis, before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils. The
Turks' [1121]Alcoran is altogether as absurd and ridiculous in this point:
but the Scripture informs us Christians, how Lucifer, the chief of them,
with his associates, [1122]fell from heaven for his pride and ambition;
created of God, placed in heaven, and sometimes an angel of light, now cast
down into the lower aerial sublunary parts, or into hell, "and delivered
into chains of darkness (2 Pet. ii. 4.) to be kept unto damnation."

_Nature of Devils._] There is a foolish opinion which some hold, that they
are the souls of men departed, good and more noble were deified, the baser
grovelled on the ground, or in the lower parts, and were devils, the which
with Tertullian, Porphyrius the philosopher, M. Tyrius, _ser. 27_
maintains. "These spirits," he [1123]saith, "which we call angels and
devils, are nought but souls of men departed, which either through love and
pity of their friends yet living, help and assist them, or else persecute
their enemies, whom they hated," as Dido threatened to persecute Aeneas:

       "Omnibus umbra locis adero: dabis improbe poenas."

       "My angry ghost arising from the deep,
        Shall haunt thee waking, and disturb thy sleep;
        At least my shade thy punishment shall know,
        And Fame shall spread the pleasing news below."

They are (as others suppose) appointed by those higher powers to keep men
from their nativity, and to protect or punish them as they see cause: and
are called _boni et mali Genii_ by the Romans. Heroes, lares, if good,
lemures or larvae if bad, by the stoics, governors of countries, men,
cities, saith [1124]Apuleius, _Deos appellant qui ex hominum numero juste
ac prudenter vitae curriculo gubernato, pro numine, postea ab hominibus
praediti fanis et ceremoniis vulgo admittuntur, ut in Aegypto Osyris_, &c.
_Praestites_, Capella calls them, "which protected particular men as well
as princes," Socrates had his _Daemonium Saturninum et ignium_, which of
all spirits is best, _ad sublimes cogitationes animum erigentem_, as the
Platonists supposed; Plotinus his, and we Christians our assisting angel,
as Andreas Victorellus, a copious writer of this subject, Lodovicus de
La-Cerda, the Jesuit, in his voluminous tract _de Angelo Custode_,
Zanchius, and some divines think. But this absurd tenet of Tyreus, Proclus
confutes at large in his book _de Anima et daemone_.

Psellus [1125], a Christian, and sometimes tutor (saith Cuspinian) to
Michael Parapinatius, Emperor of Greece, a great observer of the nature of
devils, holds they are corporeal [1126], and have "aerial bodies, that they
are mortal, live and die," (which Martianus Capella likewise maintains, but
our Christian philosophers explode) "that they [1127]are nourished and have
excrements, they feel pain if they be hurt" (which Cardan confirms, and
Scaliger justly laughs him to scorn for; _Si pascantur aere, cur non
pugnant ob puriorem aera_? &c.) "or stroken:" and if their bodies be cut,
with admirable celerity they come together again. Austin, _in Gen. lib.
iii. lib. arbit._, approves as much, _mutata casu corpora in deteriorem
qualitatem aeris spissioris_, so doth Hierome. _Comment. in epist. ad
Ephes. cap. 3_, Origen, Tertullian, Lactantius, and many ancient Fathers of
the Church: that in their fall their bodies were changed into a more aerial
and gross substance. Bodine, _lib. 4, Theatri Naturae_ and David Crusius,
_Hermeticae Philosophiae, lib. 1. cap. 4_, by several arguments proves
angels and spirits to be corporeal: _quicquid continetur in loco corporeum
est; At spiritus continetur in loco, ergo. [1128]Si spiritus sunt quanti,
erunt corporei: At sunt quanti, ergo. sunt finiti, ergo. quanti_, &c.
Bodine [1129]goes farther yet, and will have these, _Animae separatae
genii_, spirits, angels, devils, and so likewise souls of men departed, if
corporeal (which he most eagerly contends) to be of some shape, and that
absolutely round, like Sun and Moon, because that is the most perfect form,
_quae nihil habet asperitatis, nihil angulis incisum, nihil anfractibus
involutem, nihil eminens, sed inter corpora perfecta est perfectissimum_;
[1130]therefore all spirits are corporeal he concludes, and in their proper
shapes round. That they can assume other aerial bodies, all manner of
shapes at their pleasures, appear in what likeness they will themselves,
that they are most swift in motion, can pass many miles in an instant, and
so likewise [1131]transform bodies of others into what shape they please,
and with admirable celerity remove them from place to place; (as the Angel
did Habakkuk to Daniel, and as Philip the deacon was carried away by the
Spirit, when he had baptised the eunuch; so did Pythagoras and Apollonius
remove themselves and others, with many such feats) that they can represent
castles in the air, palaces, armies, spectrums, prodigies, and such strange
objects to mortal men's eyes, [1132]cause smells, savours, &c., deceive all
the senses; most writers of this subject credibly believe; and that they
can foretell future events, and do many strange miracles. Juno's image
spake to Camillus, and Fortune's statue to the Roman matrons, with many
such. Zanchius, Bodine, Spondanus, and others, are of opinion that they
cause a true metamorphosis, as Nebuchadnezzar was really translated into a
beast, Lot's wife into a pillar of salt; Ulysses' companions into hogs and
dogs, by Circe's charms; turn themselves and others, as they do witches
into cats, dogs, hares, crows, &c. Strozzius Cicogna hath many examples,
_lib. iii. omnif. mag. cap. 4 and 5_, which he there confutes, as Austin
likewise doth, _de civ. Dei lib. xviii_. That they can be seen when and in
what shape, and to whom they will, saith Psellus, _Tametsi nil tale
viderim, nec optem videre_, though he himself never saw them nor desired
it; and use sometimes carnal copulation (as elsewhere I shall [1133]prove
more at large) with women and men. Many will not believe they can be seen,
and if any man shall say, swear, and stiffly maintain, though he be
discreet and wise, judicious and learned, that he hath seen them, they
account him a timorous fool, a melancholy dizzard, a weak fellow, a
dreamer, a sick or a mad man, they contemn him, laugh him to scorn, and yet
Marcus of his credit told Psellus that he had often seen them. And Leo
Suavius, a Frenchman, _c. 8, in Commentar. l. 1. Paracelsi de vita longa_,
out of some Platonists, will have the air to be as full of them as snow
falling in the skies, and that they may be seen, and withal sets down the
means how men may see them; _Si irreverberatus oculis sole splendente
versus caelum continuaverint obtutus_, &c., [1134]and saith moreover he
tried it, _praemissorum feci experimentum_, and it was true, that the
Platonists said. Paracelsus confesseth that he saw them divers times, and
conferred with them, and so doth Alexander ab [1135]Alexandro, "that he so
found it by experience, when as before he doubted of it." Many deny it,
saith Lavater, _de spectris, part 1. c. 2_, and _part 2. c. 11_, "because
they never saw them themselves;" but as he reports at large all over his
book, especially _c. 19. part 1_, they are often seen and heard, and
familiarly converse with men, as Lod. Vives assureth us, innumerable
records, histories, and testimonies evince in all ages, times, places, and
[1136]all travellers besides; in the West Indies and our northern climes,
_Nihil familiarius quam in agris et urbibus spiritus videre, audire qui
vetent, jubeant_, &c. Hieronymus _vita Pauli_, Basil _ser. 40_, Nicephorus,
Eusebius, Socrates, Sozomenus, [1137]Jacobus Boissardus in his tract _de
spirituum apparitionibus_, Petrus Loyerus _l. de spectris_, Wierus _l. 1._
have infinite variety of such examples of apparitions of spirits, for him
to read that farther doubts, to his ample satisfaction. One alone I will
briefly insert. A nobleman in Germany was sent ambassador to the King of
Sweden (for his name, the time, and such circumstances, I refer you to
Boissardus, mine [1138]Author). After he had done his business, he sailed
to Livonia, on set purpose to see those familiar spirits, which are there
said to be conversant with men, and do their drudgery works. Amongst other
matters, one of them told him where his wife was, in what room, in what
clothes, what doing, and brought him a ring from her, which at his return,
_non sine omnium admiratione_, he found to be true; and so believed that
ever after, which before he doubted of. Cardan, _l. 19. de subtil_, relates
of his father, Facius Cardan, that after the accustomed solemnities, _An._
1491, 13 August, he conjured up seven devils, in Greek apparel, about forty
years of age, some ruddy of complexion, and some pale, as he thought; he
asked them many questions, and they made ready answer, that they were
aerial devils, that they lived and died as men did, save that they were far
longer lived (700 or 800 [1139]years); they did as much excel men in
dignity as we do juments, and were as far excelled again of those that were
above them; our [1140]governors and keepers they are moreover, which
[1141]Plato in Critias delivered of old, and subordinate to one another,
_Ut enim homo homini sic daemon daemoni dominatur_, they rule themselves as
well as us, and the spirits of the meaner sort had commonly such offices,
as we make horse-keepers, neat-herds, and the basest of us, overseers of
our cattle; and that we can no more apprehend their natures and functions,
than a horse a man's. They knew all things, but might not reveal them to
men; and ruled and domineered over us, as we do over our horses; the best
kings amongst us, and the most generous spirits, were not comparable to the
basest of them. Sometimes they did instruct men, and communicate their
skill, reward and cherish, and sometimes, again, terrify and punish, to
keep them in awe, as they thought fit, _Nihil magis cupientes_ (saith
Lysius, _Phis. Stoicorum_) _quam adorationem hominum_. [1142]The same
Author, Cardan, in his _Hyperchen_, out of the doctrine of Stoics, will
have some of these _genii_ (for so he calls them) to be [1143]desirous of
men's company, very affable and familiar with them, as dogs are; others,
again, to abhor as serpents, and care not for them. The same belike
Tritemius calls _Ignios et sublunares, qui nunquam demergunt ad inferiora,
aut vix ullum habent in terris commercium_: [1144]"Generally they far excel
men in worth, as a man the meanest worm; though some of them are inferior
to those of their own rank in worth, as the blackguard in a prince's court,
and to men again, as some degenerate, base, rational creatures, are
excelled of brute beasts."

That they are mortal, besides these testimonies of Cardan, Martianus, &c.,
many other divines and philosophers hold, _post prolixum tempus moriuntur
omnes_; The [1145]Platonists, and some Rabbins, Porphyrius and Plutarch, as
appears by that relation of Thamus: [1146]"The great God Pan is dead;
Apollo Pythius ceased; and so the rest." St. Hierome, in the life of Paul
the Hermit, tells a story how one of them appeared to St. Anthony in the
wilderness, and told him as much. [1147]Paracelsus of our late writers
stiffly maintains that they are mortal, live and die as other creatures do.
Zozimus, _l. 2_, farther adds, that religion and policy dies and alters
with them. The [1148]Gentiles' gods, he saith, were expelled by
Constantine, and together with them. _Imperii Romani majestas, et fortuna
interiit, et profligata est_; The fortune and majesty of the Roman Empire
decayed and vanished, as that heathen in [1149]Minutius formerly bragged,
when the Jews were overcome by the Romans, the Jew's God was likewise
captivated by that of Rome; and Rabsakeh to the Israelites, no God should
deliver them out of the hands of the Assyrians. But these paradoxes of
their power, corporeity, mortality, taking of shapes, transposing bodies,
and carnal copulations, are sufficiently confuted by Zanch. _c. 10, l. 4._
Pererius in his comment, and Tostatus questions on the 6th of Gen. Th.
Aquin., St. Austin, Wierus, Th. Erastus, Delrio, _tom. 2, l. 2, quaest.
29_; Sebastian Michaelis, _c. 2, de spiritibus_, D. Reinolds _Lect. 47._
They may deceive the eyes of men, yet not take true bodies, or make a real
metamorphosis; but as Cicogna proves at large, they are [1150]_Illusoriae,
et praestigiatrices transformationes_, _omnif. mag. lib. 4. cap. 4_, mere
illusions and cozenings, like that tale of _Pasetis obulus_ in Suidas, or
that of Autolicus, Mercury's son, that dwelt in Parnassus, who got so much
treasure by cozenage and stealth. His father Mercury, because he could
leave him no wealth, taught him many fine tricks to get means, [1151]for he
could drive away men's cattle, and if any pursued him, turn them into what
shapes he would, and so did mightily enrich himself, _hoc astu maximam
praedam est adsecutus_. This, no doubt, is as true as the rest; yet thus
much in general. Thomas, Durand, and others, grant that they have
understanding far beyond men, can probably conjecture and [1152]foretell
many things; they can cause and cure most diseases, deceive our senses;
they have excellent skill in all Arts and Sciences; and that the most
illiterate devil is _Quovis homine scientior_ (more knowing than any man),
as [1153]Cicogna maintains out of others. They know the virtues of herbs,
plants, stones, minerals, &c.; of all creatures, birds, beasts, the four
elements, stars, planets, can aptly apply and make use of them as they see
good; perceiving the causes of all meteors, and the like: _Dant se
coloribus_ (as [1154] Austin hath it) _accommodant se figuris, adhaerent
sonis, subjiciunt se odoribus, infundunt se saporibus, omnes sensus etiam
ipsam intelligentiam daemones fallunt_, they deceive all our senses, even
our understanding itself at once. [1155]They can produce miraculous
alterations in the air, and most wonderful effects, conquer armies, give
victories, help, further, hurt, cross and alter human attempts and projects
(_Dei permissu_) as they see good themselves. [1156]When Charles the Great
intended to make a channel betwixt the Rhine and the Danube, look what his
workmen did in the day, these spirits flung down in the night, _Ut conatu
Rex desisteret, pervicere_. Such feats can they do. But that which Bodine,
_l. 4, Theat. nat._ thinks (following Tyrius belike, and the Platonists,)
they can tell the secrets of a man's heart, _aut cogitationes hominum_, is
most false; his reasons are weak, and sufficiently confuted by Zanch. _lib.
4, cap. 9._ Hierom. _lib. 2, com. in Mat. ad cap. 15_, Athanasius _quaest.
27, ad Antiochum Principem_, and others.

_Orders_.] As for those orders of good and bad devils, which the Platonists
hold, is altogether erroneous, and those Ethnics _boni et mali Genii_, are
to be exploded: these heathen writers agree not in this point among
themselves, as Dandinus notes, _An sint [1157]mali non conveniunt_, some
will have all spirits good or bad to us by a mistake, as if an Ox or Horse
could discourse, he would say the Butcher was his enemy because he killed
him, the grazier his friend because he fed him; a hunter preserves and yet
kills his game, and is hated nevertheless of his game; _nec piscatorem
piscis amare potest_, &c. But Jamblichus, Psellus, Plutarch, and most
Platonists acknowledge bad, _et ab eorum maleficiis cavendum_, and we
should beware of their wickedness, for they are enemies of mankind, and
this Plato learned in Egypt, that they quarrelled with Jupiter, and were
driven by him down to hell. [1158]That which [1159]Apuleius, Xenophon, and
Plato contend of Socrates Daemonium, is most absurd: That which Plotinus of
his, that he had likewise _Deum pro Daemonio_; and that which Porphyry
concludes of them all in general, if they be neglected in their sacrifice
they are angry; nay more, as Cardan in his _Hipperchen_ will, they feed on
men's souls, _Elementa sunt plantis elementum, animalibus plantae,
hominibus animalia, erunt et homines aliis, non autem diis, nimis enim
remota est eorum natura a nostra, quapropter daemonibus_: and so belike
that we have so many battles fought in all ages, countries, is to make them
a feast, and their sole delight: but to return to that I said before, if
displeased they fret and chafe, (for they feed belike on the souls of
beasts, as we do on their bodies) and send many plagues amongst us; but if
pleased, then they do much good; is as vain as the rest and confuted by
Austin, _l. 9. c. 8. de Civ. Dei_. Euseb. _l. 4. praepar. Evang. c. 6._ and
others. Yet thus much I find, that our schoolmen and other [1160]divines
make nine kinds of bad spirits, as Dionysius hath done of angels. In the
first rank are those false gods of the gentiles, which were adored
heretofore in several idols, and gave oracles at Delphos, and elsewhere;
whose prince is Beelzebub. The second rank is of liars and equivocators, as
Apollo, Pythius, and the like. The third are those vessels of anger,
inventors of all mischief; as that Theutus in Plato; Esay calls them
[1161]vessels of fury; their prince is Belial. The fourth are malicious
revenging devils; and their prince is Asmodaeus. The fifth kind are
cozeners, such as belong to magicians and witches; their prince is Satan.
The sixth are those aerial devils that [1162]corrupt the air and cause
plagues, thunders, fires, &c.; spoken of in the Apocalypse, and Paul to the
Ephesians names them the princes of the air; Meresin is their prince. The
seventh is a destroyer, captain of the furies, causing wars, tumults,
combustions, uproars, mentioned in the Apocalypse; and called Abaddon. The
eighth is that accusing or calumniating devil, whom the Greeks call [Greek:
Diabolos], that drives men to despair. The ninth are those tempters in
several kinds, and their prince is Mammon. Psellus makes six kinds, yet
none above the Moon: Wierus in his _Pseudo-monarchia Daemonis_, out of an
old book, makes many more divisions and subordinations, with their several
names, numbers, offices, &c., but Gazaeus cited by [1163]Lipsius will have
all places full of angels, spirits, and devils, above and beneath the Moon,
[1164]ethereal and aerial, which Austin cites out of Varro _l. 7. de Civ.
Dei, c. 6._ "The celestial devils above, and aerial beneath," or, as some
will, gods above, Semi-dei or half gods beneath, Lares, Heroes, Genii,
which climb higher, if they lived well, as the Stoics held; but grovel on
the ground as they were baser in their lives, nearer to the earth: and are
Manes, Lemures, Lamiae, &c. [1165]They will have no place but all full of
spirits, devils, or some other inhabitants; _Plenum Caelum, aer, aqua
terra, et omnia sub terra_, saith [1166]Gazaeus; though Anthony Rusca in
his book _de Inferno, lib. v. cap. 7._ would confine them to the middle
region, yet they will have them everywhere. "Not so much as a hair-breadth
empty in heaven, earth, or waters, above or under the earth." The air is
not so full of flies in summer, as it is at all times of invisible devils:
this [1167]Paracelsus stiffly maintains, and that they have every one their
several chaos, others will have infinite worlds, and each world his
peculiar spirits, gods, angels, and devils to govern and punish it.

       "Singula [1168]nonnulli credunt quoque sidera posse
        Dici orbes, terramque appellant sidus opacum,
        Cui minimus divum praesit."------

       "Some persons believe each star to be a world, and this earth an
        opaque star, over which the least of the gods presides."

[1169]Gregorius Tholsanus makes seven kinds of ethereal spirits or angels,
according to the number of the seven planets, Saturnine, Jovial, Martial,
of which Cardan discourseth _lib. 20. de subtil._ he calls them
_substantias primas, Olympicos daemones Tritemius, qui praesunt Zodiaco_,
&c., and will have them to be good angels above, devils beneath the Moon,
their several names and offices he there sets down, and which Dionysius of
Angels, will have several spirits for several countries, men, offices, &c.,
which live about them, and as so many assisting powers cause their
operations, will have in a word, innumerable, as many of them as there be
stars in the skies. [1170]Marcilius Ficinus seems to second this opinion,
out of Plato, or from himself, I know not, (still ruling their inferiors,
as they do those under them again, all subordinate, and the nearest to the
earth rule us, whom we subdivide into good and bad angels, call gods or
devils, as they help or hurt us, and so adore, love or hate) but it is most
likely from Plato, for he relying wholly on Socrates, _quem mori potius
quam mentiri voluisse scribit_, whom he says would rather die than tell a
falsehood, out of Socrates' authority alone, made nine kinds of them: which
opinion belike Socrates took from Pythagoras, and he from Trismegistus, he
from Zoroastes, first God, second idea, 3. Intelligences, 4. Arch-Angels,
5. Angels, 6. Devils, 7. Heroes, 8. Principalities, 9. Princes: of which
some were absolutely good, as gods, some bad, some indifferent _inter deos
et homines_, as heroes and daemons, which ruled men, and were called genii,
or as [1171]Proclus and Jamblichus will, the middle betwixt God and men.
Principalities and princes, which commanded and swayed kings and countries;
and had several places in the spheres perhaps, for as every sphere is
higher, so hath it more excellent inhabitants: which belike is that
Galilaeus a Galileo and Kepler aims at in his nuncio Syderio, when he will
have [1172]Saturnine and Jovial inhabitants: and which Tycho Brahe doth in
some sort touch or insinuate in one of his epistles: but these things
[1173]Zanchius justly explodes, _cap. 3. lib. 4._ P. Martyr, _in 4. Sam.

So that according to these men the number of ethereal spirits must needs be
infinite: for if that be true that some of our mathematicians say: if a
stone could fall from the starry heaven, or eighth sphere, and should pass
every hour an hundred miles, it would be 65 years, or more, before it would
come to ground, by reason of the great distance of heaven from earth, which
contains as some say 170 millions 800 miles, besides those other heavens,
whether they be crystalline or watery which Maginus adds, which
peradventure holds as much more, how many such spirits may it contain? And
yet for all this [1174]Thomas Albertus, and most hold that there be far
more angels than devils.

_Sublunary devils, and their kinds._] But be they more or less, _Quod supra
nos nihil ad nos_ (what is beyond our comprehension does not concern us).
Howsoever as Martianus foolishly supposeth, _Aetherii Daemones non curant
res humanas_, they care not for us, do not attend our actions, or look for
us, those ethereal spirits have other worlds to reign in belike or business
to follow. We are only now to speak in brief of these sublunary spirits or
devils: for the rest, our divines determine that the devil had no power
over stars, or heavens; [1175]_Carminibus coelo possunt deducere lunam_,
&C., (by their charms (verses) they can seduce the moon from the heavens).
Those are poetical fictions, and that they can [1176]_sistere aquam
fluviis, et vertere sidera retro_, &c., (stop rivers and turn the stars
backward in their courses) as Canadia in Horace, 'tis all false. [1177]
They are confined until the day of judgment to this sublunary world, and
can work no farther than the four elements, and as God permits them.
Wherefore of these sublunary devils, though others divide them otherwise
according to their several places and offices, Psellus makes six kinds,
fiery, aerial, terrestrial, watery, and subterranean devils, besides those
fairies, satyrs, nymphs, &c.

Fiery spirits or devils are such as commonly work by blazing stars,
fire-drakes, or _ignes fatui_; which lead men often _in flumina aut
praecipitia_, saith Bodine, _lib. 2. Theat. Naturae, fol. 221._ _Quos
inquit arcere si volunt viatores, clara voce Deum appellare aut pronam
facie terram contingente adorare oportet, et hoc amuletum majoribus nostris
acceptum ferre debemus_, &c., (whom if travellers wish to keep off they
must pronounce the name of God with a clear voice, or adore him with their
faces in contact with the ground, &c.); likewise they counterfeit suns and
moons, stars oftentimes, and sit on ship masts: _In navigiorum summitatibus
visuntur_; and are called _dioscuri_, as Eusebius _l. contra Philosophos,
c. xlviii_. informeth us, out of the authority of Zenophanes; or little
clouds, _ad motum nescio quem volantes_; which never appear, saith Cardan,
but they signify some mischief or other to come unto men, though some again
will have them to pretend good, and victory to that side they come towards
in sea fights, St. Elmo's fires they commonly call them, and they do likely
appear after a sea storm; Radzivilius, the Polonian duke, calls this
apparition, _Sancti Germani sidus_; and saith moreover that he saw the same
after in a storm, as he was sailing, 1582, from Alexandria to Rhodes.
[1178]Our stories are full of such apparitions in all kinds. Some think
they keep their residence in that Hecla, a mountain in Iceland, Aetna in
Sicily, Lipari, Vesuvius, &c. These devils were worshipped heretofore by
that superstitious Pyromanteia [1179]and the like.

Aerial spirits or devils, are such as keep quarter most part in the [1180]
air, cause many tempests, thunder, and lightnings, tear oaks, fire
steeples, houses, strike men and beasts, make it rain stones, as in Livy's
time, wool, frogs, &c. Counterfeit armies in the air, strange noises,
swords, &c., as at Vienna before the coming of the Turks, and many times in
Rome, as Scheretzius _l. de spect. c. 1. part 1._ Lavater _de spect. part.
1. c. 17._ Julius Obsequens, an old Roman, in his book of prodigies, _ab
urb. cond._ 505. [1181]Machiavel hath illustrated by many examples, and
Josephus, in his book _de bello Judaico_, before the destruction of
Jerusalem. All which Guil. Postellus, in his first book, _c. 7, de orbis
concordia_, useth as an effectual argument (as indeed it is) to persuade
them that will not believe there be spirits or devils. They cause
whirlwinds on a sudden, and tempestuous storms; which though our
meteorologists generally refer to natural causes, yet I am of Bodine's
mind, _Theat. Nat. l. 2._ they are more often caused by those aerial
devils, in their several quarters; for _Tempestatibus se ingerunt_, saith
[1182] Rich. Argentine; as when a desperate man makes away with himself,
which by hanging or drowning they frequently do, as Kommanus observes, _de
mirac. mort. part. 7, c. 76._ _tripudium agentes_, dancing and rejoicing at
the death of a sinner. These can corrupt the air, and cause plagues,
sickness, storms, shipwrecks, fires, inundations. At Mons Draconis in
Italy, there is a most memorable example in [1183]Jovianus Pontanus: and
nothing so familiar (if we may believe those relations of Saxo Grammaticus,
Olaus Magnus, Damianus A. Goes) as for witches and sorcerers, in Lapland,
Lithuania, and all over Scandia, to sell winds to mariners, and cause
tempests, which Marcus Paulus the Venetian relates likewise of the Tartars.
These kind of devils are much [1184]delighted in sacrifices (saith
Porphyry), held all the world in awe, and had several names, idols,
sacrifices, in Rome, Greece, Egypt, and at this day tyrannise over, and
deceive those Ethnics and Indians, being adored and worshipped for [1185]
gods. For the Gentiles' gods were devils (as [1186]Trismegistus confesseth
in his Asclepius), and he himself could make them come to their images by
magic spells: and are now as much "respected by our papists" (saith [1187]
Pictorius) "under the name of saints." These are they which Cardan thinks
desire so much carnal copulation with witches (Incubi and Succubi),
transform bodies, and are so very cold, if they be touched; and that serve
magicians. His father had one of them (as he is not ashamed to relate),
[1188]an aerial devil, bound to him for twenty and eight years. As
Agrippa's dog had a devil tied to his collar; some think that Paracelsus
(or else Erastus belies him) had one confined to his sword pummel; others
wear them in rings, &c. Jannes and Jambres did many things of old by their
help; Simon Magus, Cinops, Apollonius Tianeus, Jamblichus, and Tritemius of
late, that showed Maximilian the emperor his wife, after she was dead; _Et
verrucam in collo ejus_ (saith [1189]Godolman) so much as the wart in her
neck. Delrio, _lib. 2._ hath divers examples of their feats: Cicogna, _lib.
3. cap. 3._ and Wierus in his book _de praestig. daemonum_. Boissardus _de
magis et veneficis_.

Water-devils are those Naiads or water nymphs which have been heretofore
conversant about waters and rivers. The water (as Paracelsus thinks) is
their chaos, wherein they live; some call them fairies, and say that
Habundia is their queen; these cause inundations, many times shipwrecks,
and deceive men divers ways, as Succuba, or otherwise, appearing most part
(saith Tritemius) in women's shapes. [1190]Paracelsus hath several stories
of them that have lived and been married to mortal men, and so continued
for certain years with them, and after, upon some dislike, have forsaken
them. Such a one as Aegeria, with whom Numa was so familiar, Diana, Ceres,
&c. [1191]Olaus Magnus hath a long narration of one Hotherus, a king of
Sweden, that having lost his company, as he was hunting one day, met with
these water nymphs or fairies, and was feasted by them; and Hector
Boethius, or Macbeth, and Banquo, two Scottish lords, that as they were
wandering in the woods, had their fortunes told them by three strange
women. To these, heretofore, they did use to sacrifice, by that [Greek:
hydromanteia], or divination by waters.

Terrestrial devils are those [1192]Lares, genii, fauns, satyrs, [1193]
wood-nymphs, foliots, fairies, Robin Goodfellows, trulli, &c., which as
they are most conversant with men, so they do them most harm. Some think it
was they alone that kept the heathen people in awe of old, and had so many
idols and temples erected to them. Of this range was Dagon amongst the
Philistines, Bel amongst the Babylonians, Astartes amongst the Sidonians,
Baal amongst the Samaritans, Isis and Osiris amongst the Egyptians, &c.;
some put our [1194]fairies into this rank, which have been in former times
adored with much superstition, with sweeping their houses, and setting of a
pail of clean water, good victuals, and the like, and then they should not
be pinched, but find money in their shoes, and be fortunate in their
enterprises. These are they that dance on heaths and greens, as [1195]
Lavater thinks with Tritemius, and as [1196]Olaus Magnus adds, leave that
green circle, which we commonly find in plain fields, which others hold to
proceed from a meteor falling, or some accidental rankness of the ground,
so nature sports herself; they are sometimes seen by old women and
children. Hierom. Pauli, in his description of the city of Bercino in
Spain, relates how they have been familiarly seen near that town, about
fountains and hills; _Nonnunquam_ (saith Tritemius) _in sua latibula
montium simpliciores homines ducant, stupenda mirantibus ostentes miracula,
nolarum sonitus, spectacula_, &c. [1197]Giraldus Cambrensis gives instance
in a monk of Wales that was so deluded. [1198]Paracelsus reckons up many
places in Germany, where they do usually walk in little coats, some two
feet long. A bigger kind there is of them called with us hobgoblins, and
Robin Goodfellows, that would in those superstitious times grind corn for a
mess of milk, cut wood, or do any manner of drudgery work. They would mend
old irons in those Aeolian isles of Lipari, in former ages, and have been
often seen and heard. [1199]Tholosanus calls them _trullos_ and Getulos,
and saith, that in his days they were common in many places of France.
Dithmarus Bleskenius, in his description of Iceland, reports for a
certainty, that almost in every family they have yet some such familiar
spirits; and Felix Malleolus, in his book _de crudel. daemon._ affirms as
much, that these trolli or telchines are very common in Norway, "and [1200]
seen to do drudgery work;" to draw water, saith Wierus, _lib. 1. cap. 22_,
dress meat, or any such thing. Another sort of these there are, which
frequent forlorn [1201]houses, which the Italians call foliots, most part
innoxious, [1202]Cardan holds; "They will make strange noises in the night,
howl sometimes pitifully, and then laugh again, cause great flame and
sudden lights, fling stones, rattle chains, shave men, open doors and shut
them, fling down platters, stools, chests, sometimes appear in the likeness
of hares, crows, black dogs," &c. of which read [1203]Pet Thyraeus the
Jesuit, in his Tract, _de locis infestis, part. 1. et cap. 4_, who will
have them to be devils or the souls of damned men that seek revenge, or
else souls out of purgatory that seek ease; for such examples peruse [1204]
Sigismundus Scheretzius, _lib. de spectris, part 1. c. 1._ which he saith
he took out of Luther most part; there be many instances. [1205]Plinius
Secundus remembers such a house at Athens, which Athenodorus the
philosopher hired, which no man durst inhabit for fear of devils. Austin,
_de Civ. Dei. lib. 22, cap. 1._ relates as much of Hesperius the Tribune's
house, at Zubeda, near their city of Hippos, vexed with evil spirits, to
his great hindrance, _Cum afflictione animalium et servorum suorum_. Many
such instances are to be read in Niderius Formicar, _lib. 5. cap. xii. 3._
&c. Whether I may call these Zim and Ochim, which Isaiah, cap. xiii. 21.
speaks of, I make a doubt. See more of these in the said Scheretz. _lib. 1.
de spect. cap. 4._ he is full of examples. These kind of devils many times
appear to men, and affright them out of their wits, sometimes walking at
[1206]noonday, sometimes at nights, counterfeiting dead men's ghosts, as
that of Caligula, which (saith Suetonius) was seen to walk in Lavinia's
garden, where his body was buried, spirits haunted, and the house where he
died, [1207]_Nulla nox sine terrore transacta, donec incendio consumpta_;
every night this happened, there was no quietness, till the house was
burned. About Hecla, in Iceland, ghosts commonly walk, _animas mortuorum
simulantes_, saith Joh. Anan, _lib. 3. de nat. daem._ Olaus. _lib. 2. cap.
2._ Natal Tallopid. _lib. de apparit. spir._ Kornmannus _de mirac. mort.
part. 1. cap. 44._ such sights are frequently seen _circa sepulchra et
monasteria_, saith Lavat. _lib. 1. cap. 19._ in monasteries and about
churchyards, _loca paludinosa, ampla aedificia, solitaria, et caede hominum
notata_, &c. (marshes, great buildings, solitary places, or remarkable as
the scene of some murder.) Thyreus adds, _ubi gravius peccatum est
commissum, impii, pauperum oppressores et nequiter insignes habitant_
(where some very heinous crime was committed, there the impious and
infamous generally dwell). These spirits often foretell men's deaths by
several signs, as knocking, groanings, &c. [1208]though Rich. Argentine,
_c. 18. de praestigiis daemonum_, will ascribe these predictions to good
angels, out of the authority of Ficinus and others; _prodigia in obitu
principum saepius contingunt_, &c. (prodigies frequently occur at the
deaths of illustrious men), as in the Lateran church in [1209]Rome, the
popes' deaths are foretold by Sylvester's tomb. Near Rupes Nova in Finland,
in the kingdom of Sweden, there is a lake, in which, before the governor of
the castle dies, a spectrum, in the habit of Arion with his harp, appears,
and makes excellent music, like those blocks in Cheshire, which (they say)
presage death to the master of the family; or that [1210]oak in Lanthadran
park in Cornwall, which foreshows as much. Many families in Europe are so
put in mind of their last by such predictions, and many men are forewarned
(if we may believe Paracelsus) by familiar spirits in divers shapes, as
cocks, crows, owls, which often hover about sick men's chambers, _vel quia
morientium foeditatem sentiunt_, as [1211]Baracellus conjectures, _et ideo
super tectum infirmorum crocitant_, because they smell a corse; or for that
(as [1212]Bernardinus de Bustis thinketh) God permits the devil to appear
in the form of crows, and such like creatures, to scare such as live
wickedly here on earth. A little before Tully's death (saith Plutarch) the
crows made a mighty noise about him, _tumultuose perstrepentes_, they
pulled the pillow from under his head. Rob. Gaguinus, _hist. Franc. lib.
8_, telleth such another wonderful story at the death of Johannes de
Monteforti, a French lord, _anno_ 1345, _tanta corvorum multitudo aedibus
morientis insedit, quantam esse in Gallia nemo judicasset_ (a multitude of
crows alighted on the house of the dying man, such as no one imagined
existed in France). Such prodigies are very frequent in authors. See more
of these in the said Lavater, Thyreus _de locis infestis, part 3, cap. 58._
Pictorius, Delrio, Cicogna, _lib. 3, cap. 9._ Necromancers take upon them
to raise and lay them at their pleasures: and so likewise, those which
Mizaldus calls _ambulones_, that walk about midnight on great heaths and
desert places, which (saith [1213]Lavater) "draw men out of the way, and
lead them all night a byway, or quite bar them of their way;" these have
several names in several places; we commonly call them Pucks. In the
deserts of Lop, in Asia, such illusions of walking spirits are often
perceived, as you may read in M. Paulus the Venetian his travels; if one
lose his company by chance, these devils will call him by his name, and
counterfeit voices of his companions to seduce him. Hieronym. Pauli, in his
book of the hills of Spain, relates of a great [1214]mount in Cantabria,
where such spectrums are to be seen; Lavater and Cicogna have variety of
examples of spirits and walking devils in this kind. Sometimes they sit by
the highway side, to give men falls, and make their horses stumble and
start as they ride (if you will believe the relation of that holy man
Ketellus in [1215]Nubrigensis), that had an especial grace to see devils,
_Gratiam divinitus collatam_, and talk with them, _Et impavidus cum
spiritibus sermonem miscere_, without offence, and if a man curse or spur
his horse for stumbling, they do heartily rejoice at it; with many such
pretty feats.

Subterranean devils are as common as the rest, and do as much harm. Olaus
Magnus, _lib. 6, cap. 19_, make six kinds of them; some bigger, some less.
These (saith [1216]Munster) are commonly seen about mines of metals, and
are some of them noxious; some again do no harm. The metal-men in many
places account it good luck, a sign of treasure and rich ore when they see
them. Georgius Agricola, in his book _de subterraneis animantibus, cap.
37_, reckons two more notable kinds of them, which he calls [1217]_getuli_
and _cobali_, both "are clothed after the manner of metal-men, and will
many times imitate their works." Their office, as Pictorius and Paracelsus
think, is to keep treasure in the earth, that it be not all at once
revealed; and besides, [1218]Cicogna avers that they are the frequent
causes of those horrible earthquakes "which often swallow up, not only
houses, but whole islands and cities;" in his third book, _cap. 11_, he
gives many instances.

The last are conversant about the centre of the earth to torture the souls
of damned men to the day of judgment; their egress and regress some suppose
to be about Etna, Lipari, Mons Hecla in Iceland, Vesuvius, Terra del Fuego,
&c., because many shrieks and fearful cries are continually heard
thereabouts, and familiar apparitions of dead men, ghosts and goblins.

_Their Offices, Operations, Study_.] Thus the devil reigns, and in a
thousand several shapes, "as a roaring lion still seeks whom he may
devour," 1 Pet. v., by sea, land, air, as yet unconfined, though [1219]
some will have his proper place the air; all that space between us and the
moon for them that transgressed least, and hell for the wickedest of them,
_Hic velut in carcere ad finem mundi, tunc in locum funestiorum trudendi_,
as Austin holds _de Civit. Dei, c. 22, lib. 14, cap. 3 et 23_; but be where
he will, he rageth while he may to comfort himself, as [1220] Lactantius
thinks, with other men's falls, he labours all he can to bring them into
the same pit of perdition with him. For [1221]"men's miseries, calamities,
and ruins are the devil's banqueting dishes." By many temptations and
several engines, he seeks to captivate our souls. The Lord of Lies, saith
[1222]Austin, "as he was deceived himself, he seeks to deceive others," the
ringleader to all naughtiness, as he did by Eve and Cain, Sodom and
Gomorrah, so would he do by all the world. Sometimes he tempts by
covetousness, drunkenness, pleasure, pride, &c., errs, dejects, saves,
kills, protects, and rides some men, as they do their horses. He studies
our overthrow, and generally seeks our destruction; and although he pretend
many times human good, and vindicate himself for a god by curing of several
diseases, _aegris sanitatem, et caecis luminis usum restituendo_, as Austin
declares, _lib. 10, de civit Dei, cap. 6_, as Apollo, Aesculapius, Isis, of
old have done; divert plagues, assist them in wars, pretend their
happiness, yet _nihil his impurius, scelestius, nihil humano generi
infestius_, nothing so impure, nothing so pernicious, as may well appear by
their tyrannical and bloody sacrifices of men to Saturn and Moloch, which
are still in use among those barbarous Indians, their several deceits and
cozenings to keep men in obedience, their false oracles, sacrifices, their
superstitious impositions of fasts, penury, &c. Heresies, superstitious
observations of meats, times, &c., by which they [1223] crucify the souls
of mortal men, as shall be showed in our Treatise of Religious Melancholy.
_Modico adhuc tempore sinitur malignari_, as [1224] Bernard expresseth it,
by God's permission he rageth a while, hereafter to be confined to hell and
darkness, "which is prepared for him and his angels," Mat. xxv.

How far their power doth extend it is hard to determine; what the ancients
held of their effects, force and operations, I will briefly show you: Plato
in Critias, and after him his followers, gave out that these spirits or
devils, "were men's governors and keepers, our lords and masters, as we are
of our cattle." [1225]"They govern provinces and kingdoms by oracles,
auguries," dreams, rewards and punishments, prophecies, inspirations,
sacrifices, and religious superstitions, varied in as many forms as there
be diversity of spirits; they send wars, plagues, peace, sickness, health,
dearth, plenty, [1226]_Adstantes hic jam nobis, spectantes, et
arbitrantes_, &c. as appears by those histories of Thucydides, Livius,
Dionysius Halicarnassus, with many others that are full of their wonderful
stratagems, and were therefore by those Roman and Greek commonwealths
adored and worshipped for gods with prayers and sacrifices, &c. [1227]In a
word, _Nihil magis quaerunt quam metum et admirationem hominum_; [1228]and
as another hath it, _Dici non potest, quam impotenti ardore in homines
dominium, et Divinos cultus maligni spiritus affectent_. [1229]Tritemius in
his book _de septem secundis_, assigns names to such angels as are
governors of particular provinces, by what authority I know not, and gives
them several jurisdictions. Asclepiades a Grecian, Rabbi Achiba the Jew,
Abraham Avenezra, and Rabbi Azariel, Arabians, (as I find them cited by
[1230]Cicogna) farther add, that they are not our governors only, _Sed ex
eorum concordia et discordia, boni et mali affectus promanant_, but as they
agree, so do we and our princes, or disagree; stand or fall. Juno was a
bitter enemy to Troy, Apollo a good friend, Jupiter indifferent, _Aequa
Venus Teucris, Pallas iniqua fuit_; some are for us still, some against us,
_Premente Deo, fert Deus alter opem_. Religion, policy, public and private
quarrels, wars are procured by them, and they are [1231]delighted perhaps
to see men fight, as men are with cocks, bulls and dogs, bears, &c.,
plagues, dearths depend on them, our _bene_ and _male esse_, and almost all
our other peculiar actions, (for as Anthony Rusea contends, _lib. 5, cap.
18_, every man hath a good and a bad angel attending on him in particular,
all his life long, which Jamblichus calls _daemonem_,) preferments, losses,
weddings, deaths, rewards and punishments, and as [1232]Proclus will, all
offices whatsoever, _alii genetricem, alii opificem potestatem habent_, &c.
and several names they give them according to their offices, as Lares,
Indegites, Praestites, &c. When the Arcades in that battle at Cheronae,
which was fought against King Philip for the liberty of Greece, had
deceitfully carried themselves, long after, in the very same place, _Diis
Graeciae, ultoribus_ (saith mine author) they were miserably slain by
Metellus the Roman: so likewise, in smaller matters, they will have things
fall out, as these _boni_ and _mali genii_ favour or dislike us: _Saturni
non conveniunt Jovialibus_, &c. He that is Saturninus shall never likely be
preferred. [1233]That base fellows are often advanced, undeserving
Gnathoes, and vicious parasites, whereas discreet, wise, virtuous and
worthy men are neglected and unrewarded; they refer to those domineering
spirits, or subordinate Genii; as they are inclined, or favour men, so they
thrive, are ruled and overcome; for as [1234]Libanius supposeth in our
ordinary conflicts and contentions, _Genius Genio cedit et obtemperat_, one
genius yields and is overcome by another. All particular events almost they
refer to these private spirits; and (as Paracelsus adds) they direct,
teach, inspire, and instruct men. Never was any man extraordinary famous in
any art, action, or great commander, that had not _familiarem daemonem_ to
inform him, as Numa, Socrates, and many such, as Cardan illustrates, _cap.
128_, _Arcanis prudentiae civilis_, [1235] _Speciali siquidem gratia, se a
Deo donari asserunt magi, a Geniis caelestibus instrui, ab iis doceri_. But
these are most erroneous paradoxes, _ineptae et fabulosae nugae_, rejected
by our divines and Christian churches. 'Tis true they have, by God's
permission, power over us, and we find by experience, that they can
[1236]hurt not our fields only, cattle, goods, but our bodies and minds. At
Hammel in Saxony, _An._ 1484. 20 _Junii_, the devil, in likeness of a pied
piper, carried away 130 children that were never after seen. Many times men
are [1237]affrighted out of their wits, carried away quite, as Scheretzius
illustrates, _lib. 1, c. iv._, and severally molested by his means,
Plotinus the Platonist, _lib. 14, advers. Gnos._ laughs them to scorn, that
hold the devil or spirits can cause any such diseases. Many think he can
work upon the body, but not upon the mind. But experience pronounceth
otherwise, that he can work both upon body and mind. Tertullian is of this
opinion, _c. 22._ [1238]"That he can cause both sickness and health," and
that secretly. [1239]Taurellus adds "by clancular poisons he can infect the
bodies, and hinder the operations of the bowels, though we perceive it not,
closely creeping into them," saith [1240]Lipsius, and so crucify our souls:
_Et nociva melancholia furiosos efficit_. For being a spiritual body, he
struggles with our spirits, saith Rogers, and suggests (according to
[1241]Cardan, _verba sine voce, species sine visu_, envy, lust, anger, &c.)
as he sees men inclined.

The manner how he performs it, Biarmannus in his Oration against Bodine,
sufficiently declares. [1242]"He begins first with the phantasy, and moves
that so strongly, that no reason is able to resist." Now the phantasy he
moves by mediation of humours; although many physicians are of opinion,
that the devil can alter the mind, and produce this disease of himself.
_Quibusdam medicorum visum_, saith [1243]Avicenna, _quod Melancholia
contingat a daemonio_. Of the same mind is Psellus and Rhasis the Arab.
_lib. 1. Tract. 9. Cont_. [1244]"That this disease proceeds especially from
the devil, and from him alone." Arculanus, _cap. 6. in 9. Rhasis_, Aelianus
Montaltus, in his _9. cap_. Daniel Sennertus, _lib. 1. part. 2. cap. 11._
confirm as much, that the devil can cause this disease; by reason many
times that the parties affected prophesy, speak strange language, but _non
sine interventu humoris_, not without the humour, as he interprets himself;
no more doth Avicenna, _si contingat a daemonio, sufficit nobis ut
convertat complexionem ad choleram nigram, et sit causa ejus propinqua
cholera nigra_; the immediate cause is choler adust, which [1245]
Pomponatius likewise labours to make good: Galgerandus of Mantua, a famous
physician, so cured a demoniacal woman in his time, that spake all
languages, by purging black choler, and thereupon belike this humour of
melancholy is called _balneum diaboli_, the devil's bath; the devil spying
his opportunity of such humours drives them many times to despair, fury,
rage, &c., mingling himself among these humours. This is that which
Tertullian avers, _Corporibus infligunt acerbos casus, animaeque
repentinos, membra distorquent, occulte repentes_, &c. and which Lemnius
goes about to prove, _Immiscent se mali Genii pravis humoribus, atque
atrae, bili_, &c. And [1246]Jason Pratensis, "that the devil, being a
slender incomprehensible spirit, can easily insinuate and wind himself into
human bodies, and cunningly couched in our bowels vitiate our healths,
terrify our souls with fearful dreams, and shake our minds with furies."
And in another place, "These unclean spirits settled in our bodies, and now
mixed with our melancholy humours, do triumph as it were, and sport
themselves as in another heaven." Thus he argues, and that they go in and
out of our bodies, as bees do in a hive, and so provoke and tempt us as
they perceive our temperature inclined of itself, and most apt to be
deluded. [1247] Agrippa and [1248]Lavater are persuaded, that this humour
invites the devil to it, wheresoever it is in extremity, and of all other,
melancholy persons are most subject to diabolical temptations and
illusions, and most apt to entertain them, and the Devil best able to work
upon them. But whether by obsession, or possession, or otherwise, I will
not determine; 'tis a difficult question. Delrio the Jesuit, _Tom. 3. lib.
6._ Springer and his colleague, _mall. malef_. Pet. Thyreus the Jesuit,
_lib. de daemoniacis, de locis infestis, de Terrificationibus nocturnis_,
Hieronymus Mengus _Flagel. daem_. and others of that rank of pontifical
writers, it seems, by their exorcisms and conjurations approve of it,
having forged many stories to that purpose. A nun did eat a lettuce
[1249]without grace, or signing it with the sign of the cross, and was
instantly possessed. Durand. _lib. 6. Rationall. c. 86. numb. 8._ relates
that he saw a wench possessed in Bononia with two devils, by eating an
unhallowed pomegranate, as she did afterwards confess, when she was cured
by exorcisms. And therefore our Papists do sign themselves so often with
the sign of the cross, _Ne daemon ingredi ausit_, and exorcise all manner
of meats, as being unclean or accursed otherwise, as Bellarmine defends.
Many such stories I find amongst pontifical writers, to prove their
assertions, let them free their own credits; some few I will recite in this
kind out of most approved physicians. Cornelius Gemma, _lib. 2. de nat.
mirac. c. 4._ relates of a young maid, called Katherine Gualter, a cooper's
daughter, _an._ 1571. that had such strange passions and convulsions, three
men could not sometimes hold her; she purged a live eel, which he saw, a
foot and a half long, and touched it himself; but the eel afterwards
vanished; she vomited some twenty-four pounds of fulsome stuff of all
colours, twice a day for fourteen days; and after that she voided great
balls of hair, pieces of wood, pigeon's dung, parchment, goose dung, coals;
and after them two pounds of pure blood, and then again coals and stones,
or which some had inscriptions bigger than a walnut, some of them pieces of
glass, brass, &c. besides paroxysms of laughing, weeping and ecstasies, &c.
_Et hoc (inquit) cum horore vidi_, this I saw with horror. They could do no
good on her by physic, but left her to the clergy. Marcellus Donatus, _lib.
2. c. 1. de med. mirab._ hath such another story of a country fellow, that
had four knives in his belly, _Instar serrae dentatos_, indented like a
saw, every one a span long, and a wreath of hair like a globe, with much
baggage of like sort, wonderful to behold: how it should come into his
guts, he concludes, _Certe non alio quam daemonis astutia et dolo_, (could
assuredly only have been through the artifice of the devil). Langius,
_Epist. med. lib. 1. Epist. 38._ hath many relations to this effect, and so
hath Christophorus a Vega: Wierus, Skenkius, Scribanius, all agree that
they are done by the subtlety and illusion of the devil. If you shall ask a
reason of this, 'tis to exercise our patience; for as [1250]Tertullian
holds, _Virtus non est virtus, nisi comparem habet aliquem, in quo
superando vim suam ostendat_ 'tis to try us and our faith, 'tis for our
offences, and for the punishment of our sins, by God's permission they do
it, _Carnifices vindictae justae Dei_, as [1251]Tolosanus styles them,
Executioners of his will; or rather as David, Ps. 78. ver. 49. "He cast
upon them the fierceness of his anger, indignation, wrath, and vexation, by
sending out of evil angels:" so did he afflict Job, Saul, the Lunatics and
demoniacal persons whom Christ cured, Mat. iv. 8. Luke iv. 11. Luke xiii.
Mark ix. Tobit. viii. 3. &c. This, I say, happeneth for a punishment of
sin, for their want of faith, incredulity, weakness, distrust, &c.

SUBSECT. III.--_Of Witches and Magicians, how they cause Melancholy_.

You have heard what the devil can do of himself, now you shall hear what he
can perform by his instruments, who are many times worse (if it be
possible) than he himself, and to satisfy their revenge and lust cause more
mischief, _Multa enim mala non egisset daemon, nisi provocatus a sagis_, as
[1252]Erastus thinks; much harm had never been done, had he not been
provoked by witches to it. He had not appeared in Samuel's shape, if the
Witch of Endor had let him alone; or represented those serpents in
Pharaoh's presence, had not the magicians urged him unto it; _Nec morbos
vel hominibus, vel brutis infligeret_ (Erastus maintains) _si sagae
quiescerent_; men and cattle might go free, if the witches would let him
alone. Many deny witches at all, or if there be any they can do no harm; of
this opinion is Wierus, _lib. 3. cap. 53. de praestig. daem_. Austin
Lerchemer a Dutch writer, Biarmanus, Ewichius, Euwaldus, our countryman
Scot; with him in Horace,

       "Somnia, terrores Magicos, miracula, sagas,
        Nocturnos Lemures, portentaque Thessala risu

       "Say, can you laugh indignant at the schemes
        Of magic terrors, visionary dreams,
        Portentous wonders, witching imps of Hell,
        The nightly goblin, and enchanting spell?"

They laugh at all such stories; but on the contrary are most lawyers,
divines, physicians, philosophers, Austin, Hemingius, Danaeus, Chytraeus,
Zanchius, Aretius, &c. Delrio, Springer, [1253]Niderius, _lib. 5._
Fornicar. Guiatius, Bartolus, _consil. 6. tom. 1. Bodine, daemoniant. lib
2. cap. 8._ Godelman, Damhoderius, &c. Paracelsus, Erastus, Scribanius,
Camerarius, &c. The parties by whom the devil deals, may be reduced to
these two, such as command him in show at least, as conjurors, and
magicians, whose detestable and horrid mysteries are contained in their
book called [1254]Arbatell; _daemonis enim advocati praesto sunt, seque
exorcismis et conjurationibus quasi cogi patiuntur, ut miserum magorum
genus, in impietate detineant_. Or such as are commanded, as witches, that
deal _ex parte implicite_, or _explicite_, as the [1255]king hath well
defined; many subdivisions there are, and many several species of
sorcerers, witches, enchanters, charmers, &c. They have been tolerated
heretofore some of them; and magic hath been publicly professed in former
times, in [1256]Salamanca, [1257]Krakow, and other places, though after
censured by several [1258]Universities, and now generally contradicted,
though practised by some still, maintained and excused, _Tanquam res
secreta quae non nisi viris magnis et peculiari beneficio de Coelo
instructis communicatur_ (I use [1259]Boesartus his words) and so far
approved by some princes, _Ut nihil ausi aggredi in politicis, in sacris,
in consiliis, sine eorum arbitrio_; they consult still with them, and dare
indeed do nothing without their advice. Nero and Heliogabalus, Maxentius,
and Julianus Apostata, were never so much addicted to magic of old, as some
of our modern princes and popes themselves are nowadays. Erricus, King of
Sweden, had an [1260]enchanted cap, by virtue of which, and some magical
murmur or whispering terms, he could command spirits, trouble the air, and
make the wind stand which way he would, insomuch that when there was any
great wind or storm, the common people were wont to say, the king now had
on his conjuring cap. But such examples are infinite. That which they can
do, is as much almost as the devil himself, who is still ready to satisfy
their desires, to oblige them the more unto him. They can cause tempests,
storms, which is familiarly practised by witches in Norway, Iceland, as I
have proved. They can make friends enemies, and enemies friends by
philters; [1261]_Turpes amores conciliare_, enforce love, tell any man
where his friends are, about what employed, though in the most remote
places; and if they will, [1262]"bring their sweethearts to them by night,
upon a goat's back flying in the air." Sigismund Scheretzius, _part. 1.
cap. 9. de spect._ reports confidently, that he conferred with sundry such,
that had been so carried many miles, and that he heard witches themselves
confess as much; hurt and infect men and beasts, vines, corn, cattle,
plants, make women abortive, not to conceive, [1263]barren, men and women
unapt and unable, married and unmarried, fifty several ways, saith Bodine,
_lib. 2. c. 2._ fly in the air, meet when and where they will, as Cicogna
proves, and Lavat. _de spec. part. 2. c. 17._ "steal young children out of
their cradles, _ministerio daemonum_, and put deformed in their rooms,
which we call changelings," saith [1264]Scheretzius, _part. 1. c. 6._ make
men victorious, fortunate, eloquent; and therefore in those ancient
monomachies and combats they were searched of old, [1265]they had no
magical charms; they can make [1266]stick frees, such as shall endure a
rapier's point, musket shot, and never be wounded: of which read more in
Boissardus, _cap. 6. de Magia_, the manner of the adjuration, and by whom
'tis made, where and how to be used _in expeditionibus bellicis, praeliis,
duellis_, &c., with many peculiar instances and examples; they can walk in
fiery furnaces, make men feel no pain on the rack, _aut alias torturas
sentire_; they can stanch blood, [1267]represent dead men's shapes, alter
and turn themselves and others into several forms, at their pleasures.
[1268]Agaberta, a famous witch in Lapland, would do as much publicly to all
spectators, _Modo Pusilla, modo anus, modo procera ut quercus, modo vacca,
avis, coluber_, &c. Now young, now old, high, low, like a cow, like a bird,
a snake, and what not? She could represent to others what forms they most
desired to see, show them friends absent, reveal secrets, _maxima omnium
admiratione_, &c. And yet for all this subtlety of theirs, as Lipsius well
observes, _Physiolog. Stoicor. lib. 1. cap. 17._ neither these magicians
nor devils themselves can take away gold or letters out of mine or Crassus'
chest, _et Clientelis suis largiri_, for they are base, poor, contemptible
fellows most part; as [1269]Bodine notes, they can do nothing _in Judicum
decreta aut poenas, in regum concilia vel arcana, nihil in rem nummariam
aut thesauros_, they cannot give money to their clients, alter judges'
decrees, or councils of kings, these _minuti Genii_ cannot do it, _altiores
Genii hoc sibi adservarunt_, the higher powers reserve these things to
themselves. Now and then peradventure there may be some more famous
magicians like Simon Magus, [1270]Apollonius Tyaneus, Pasetes, Jamblichus,
[1271]Odo de Stellis, that for a time can build castles in the air,
represent armies, &c., as they are [1272]said to have done, command wealth
and treasure, feed thousands with all variety of meats upon a sudden,
protect themselves and their followers from all princes' persecutions, by
removing from place to place in an instant, reveal secrets, future events,
tell what is done in far countries, make them appear that died long since,
and do many such miracles, to the world's terror, admiration and opinion of
deity to themselves, yet the devil forsakes them at last, they come to
wicked ends, and _raro aut nunquam_ such impostors are to be found. The
vulgar sort of them can work no such feats. But to my purpose, they can,
last of all, cure and cause most diseases to such as they love or hate, and
this of [1273]melancholy amongst the rest. Paracelsus, _Tom. 4. de morbis
amentium, Tract. 1._ in express words affirms; _Multi fascinantur in
melancholiam_, many are bewitched into melancholy, out of his experience.
The same saith Danaeus, _lib. 3. de sortiariis_. _Vidi, inquit, qui
Melancholicos morbos gravissimos induxerunt_: I have seen those that have
caused melancholy in the most grievous manner, [1274]dried up women's paps,
cured gout, palsy; this and apoplexy, falling sickness, which no physic
could help, _solu tactu_, by touch alone. Ruland in his _3 Cent. Cura 91._
gives an instance of one David Helde, a young man, who by eating cakes
which a witch gave him, _mox delirare coepit_, began to dote on a sudden,
and was instantly mad: F. H. D. in [1275]Hildesheim, consulted about a
melancholy man, thought his disease was partly magical, and partly natural,
because he vomited pieces of iron and lead, and spake such languages as he
had never been taught; but such examples are common in Scribanius, Hercules
de Saxonia, and others. The means by which they work are usually charms,
images, as that in Hector Boethius of King Duffe; characters stamped of
sundry metals, and at such and such constellations, knots, amulets, words,
philters, &c., which generally make the parties affected, melancholy; as
[1276]Monavius discourseth at large in an epistle of his to Acolsius,
giving instance in a Bohemian baron that was so troubled by a philter
taken. Not that there is any power at all in those spells, charms,
characters, and barbarous words; but that the devil doth use such means to
delude them. _Ut fideles inde magos_ (saith [1277]Libanius) _in officio
retineat, tum in consortium malefactorum vocet._

SUBSECT. IV.--_Stars a cause. Signs from Physiognomy, Metoposcopy,

Natural causes are either primary and universal, or secondary and more
particular. Primary causes are the heavens, planets, stars, &c., by their
influence (as our astrologers hold) producing this and such like effects. I
will not here stand to discuss _obiter_, whether stars be causes, or signs;
or to apologise for judical astrology. If either Sextus Empericus, Picus
Mirandula, Sextus ab Heminga, Pererius, Erastus, Chambers, &c., have so far
prevailed with any man, that he will attribute no virtue at all to the
heavens, or to sun, or moon, more than he doth to their signs at an
innkeeper's post, or tradesman's shop, or generally condemn all such
astrological aphorisms approved by experience: I refer him to Bellantius,
Pirovanus, Marascallerus, Goclenius, Sir Christopher Heidon, &c. If thou
shalt ask me what I think, I must answer, _nam et doctis hisce erroribus
versatus sum_, (for I am conversant with these learned errors,) they do
incline, but not compel; no necessity at all: [1278]_agunt non cogunt_: and
so gently incline, that a wise man may resist them; _sapiens dominabitur
astris_: they rule us, but God rules them. All this (methinks) [1279]Joh.
de Indagine hath comprised in brief, _Quaeris a me quantum in nobis
operantur astra_? &c. "Wilt thou know how far the stars work upon us? I say
they do but incline, and that so gently, that if we will be ruled by
reason, they have no power over us; but if we follow our own nature, and be
led by sense, they do as much in us as in brute beasts, and we are no
better." So that, I hope, I may justly conclude with [1280]Cajetan, _Coelum
est vehiculum divinae virtutis_, &c., that the heaven is God's instrument,
by mediation of which he governs and disposeth these elementary bodies; or
a great book, whose letters are the stars, (as one calls it,) wherein are
written many strange things for such as can read, [1281]"or an excellent
harp, made by an eminent workman, on which, he that can but play, will make
most admirable music." But to the purpose.

[1282]Paracelsus is of opinion, "that a physician without the knowledge of
stars can neither understand the cause or cure of any disease, either of
this or gout, not so much as toothache; except he see the peculiar geniture
and scheme of the party effected." And for this proper malady, he will have
the principal and primary cause of it proceed from the heaven, ascribing
more to stars than humours, [1283]"and that the constellation alone many
times produceth melancholy, all other causes set apart." He gives instance
in lunatic persons, that are deprived of their wits by the moon's motion;
and in another place refers all to the ascendant, and will have the true
and chief cause of it to be sought from the stars. Neither is it his
opinion only, but of many Galenists and philosophers, though they do not so
peremptorily maintain as much. "This variety of melancholy symptoms
proceeds from the stars," saith [1284]Melancthon: the most generous
melancholy, as that of Augustus, comes from the conjunction of Saturn and
Jupiter in Libra: the bad, as that of Catiline's, from the meeting of
Saturn and the moon in Scorpio. Jovianus Pontanus, in his tenth book, and
thirteenth chapter _de rebus coelestibus_, discourseth to this purpose at
large, _Ex atra bile varii generantur morbi_, &c., [1285]"many diseases
proceed from black choler, as it shall be hot or cold; and though it be
cold in its own nature, yet it is apt to be heated, as water may be made to
boil, and burn as bad as fire; or made cold as ice: and thence proceed such
variety of symptoms, some mad, some solitary, some laugh, some rage," &c.
The cause of all which intemperance he will have chiefly and primarily
proceed from the heavens, [1286]"from the position of Mars, Saturn, and
Mercury." His aphorisms be these, [1287]"Mercury in any geniture, if he
shall be found in Virgo, or Pisces his opposite sign, and that in the
horoscope, irradiated by those quartile aspects of Saturn or Mars, the
child shall be mad or melancholy." Again, [1288]"He that shall have Saturn
and Mars, the one culminating, the other in the fourth house, when he shall
be born, shall be melancholy, of which he shall be cured in time, if
Mercury behold them. [1289]If the moon be in conjunction or opposition at
the birth time with the sun, Saturn or Mars, or in a quartile aspect with
them," (_e malo coeli loco_, Leovitius adds,) "many diseases are signified,
especially the head and brain is like to be misaffected with pernicious
humours, to be melancholy, lunatic, or mad," Cardan adds, _quarta luna
natos_, eclipses, earthquakes. Garcaeus and Leovitius will have the chief
judgment to be taken from the lord of the geniture, or where there is an
aspect between the moon and Mercury, and neither behold the horoscope, or
Saturn and Mars shall be lord of the present conjunction or opposition in
Sagittarius or Pisces, of the sun or moon, such persons are commonly
epileptic, dote, demoniacal, melancholy: but see more of these aphorisms in
the above-named Pontanus. Garcaeus, _cap. 23. de Jud. genitur. Schoner.
lib. 1. cap. 8_, which he hath gathered out of [1290]Ptolemy, Albubater,
and some other Arabians, Junctine, Ranzovius, Lindhout, Origen, &c. But
these men you will reject peradventure, as astrologers, and therefore
partial judges; then hear the testimony of physicians, Galenists
themselves. [1291]Carto confesseth the influence of stars to have a great
hand to this peculiar disease, so doth Jason Pratensis, Lonicerius
_praefat. de Apoplexia_, Ficinus, Fernelius, &c. [1292]P. Cnemander
acknowledgeth the stars an universal cause, the particular from parents,
and the use of the six non-natural things. Baptista Port. _mag. l. 1. c.
10, 12, 15_, will have them causes to every particular _individium_.
Instances and examples, to evince the truth of those aphorisms, are common
amongst those astrologian treatises. Cardan, in his thirty-seventh
geniture, gives instance in Matth. Bolognius. _Camerar. hor. natalit.
centur. 7. genit. 6. et 7._ of Daniel Gare, and others; but see Garcaeus,
_cap. 33._ Luc. Gauricus, _Tract. 6. de Azemenis_, &c. The time of this
melancholy is, when the significators of any geniture are directed
according to art, as the hor: moon, hylech, &c. to the hostile beams or
terms of [Symbol: Saturn] and [Symbol: Mars] especially, or any fixed star
of their nature, or if [Symbol: Saturn] by his revolution or transitus,
shall offend any of those radical promissors in the geniture.

Other signs there are taken from physiognomy, metoposcopy, chiromancy,
which because Joh. de Indagine, and Rotman, the landgrave of Hesse his
mathematician, not long since in his Chiromancy; Baptista Porta, in his
celestial Physiognomy, have proved to hold great affinity with astrology,
to satisfy the curious, I am the more willing to insert.

The general notions [1293]physiognomers give, be these; "black colour
argues natural melancholy; so doth leanness, hirsuteness, broad veins, much
hair on the brows," saith [1294]Gratanarolus, _cap. 7_, and a little head,
out of Aristotle, high sanguine, red colour, shows head melancholy; they
that stutter and are bald, will be soonest melancholy, (as Avicenna
supposeth,) by reason of the dryness of their brains; but he that will know
more of the several signs of humour and wits out of physiognomy, let him
consult with old Adamantus and Polemus, that comment, or rather paraphrase
upon Aristotle's Physiognomy, Baptista Porta's four pleasant books, Michael
Scot _de secretis naturae_, John de Indagine, Montaltus, Antony Zara.
_anat. ingeniorum, sect. 1. memb. 13. et lib. 4._

Chiromancy hath these aphorisms to foretell melancholy, Tasneir. _lib. 5.
cap. 2_, who hath comprehended the sum of John de Indagine: Tricassus,
Corvinus, and others in his book, thus hath it; [1295]"The Saturnine line
going from the rascetta through the hand, to Saturn's mount, and there
intersected by certain little lines, argues melancholy; so if the vital and
natural make an acute angle, Aphorism 100. The saturnine, hepatic, and
natural lines, making a gross triangle in the hand, argue as much;" which
Goclenius, _cap. 5. Chiros._ repeats verbatim out of him. In general they
conclude all, that if Saturn's mount be full of many small lines and
intersections, [1296]"such men are most part melancholy, miserable and full
of disquietness, care and trouble, continually vexed with anxious and
bitter thoughts, always sorrowful, fearful, suspicious; they delight in
husbandry, buildings, pools, marshes, springs, woods, walks," &c. Thaddaeus
Haggesius, in his _Metoposcopia_, hath certain aphorisms derived from
Saturn's lines in the forehead, by which he collects a melancholy
disposition; and [1297]Baptista Porta makes observations from those other
parts of the body, as if a spot be over the spleen; [1298]"or in the nails;
if it appear black, it signifieth much care, grief, contention, and
melancholy;" the reason he refers to the humours, and gives instance in
himself, that for seven years space he had such black spots in his nails,
and all that while was in perpetual lawsuits, controversies for his
inheritance, fear, loss of honour, banishment, grief, care, &c. and when
his miseries ended, the black spots vanished. Cardan, in his book _de
libris propriis_, tells such a story of his own person, that a little
before his son's death, he had a black spot, which appeared in one of his
nails; and dilated itself as he came nearer to his end. But I am over
tedious in these toys, which howsoever, in some men's too severe censures,
they may be held absurd and ridiculous, I am the bolder to insert, as not
borrowed from circumforanean rogues and gipsies, but out of the writings of
worthy philosophers and physicians, yet living some of them, and religious
professors in famous universities, who are able to patronise that which
they have said, and vindicate themselves from all cavillers and ignorant

SUBSECT. V.--_Old age a cause_.

Secondary peculiar causes efficient, so called in respect of the other
precedent, are either _congenitae, internae, innatae_, as they term them,
inward, innate, inbred; or else outward and adventitious, which happen to
us after we are born: congenite or born with us, are either natural, as old
age, or _praeter naturam_ (as [1299]Fernelius calls it) that
distemperature, which we have from our parent's seed, it being an
hereditary disease. The first of these, which is natural to all, and which
no man living can avoid, is [1300]old age, which being cold and dry, and of
the same quality as melancholy is, must needs cause it, by diminution of
spirits and substance, and increasing of adust humours; therefore [1301]
Melancthon avers out of Aristotle, as an undoubted truth, _Senes plerunque
delirasse in senecta_, that old men familiarly dote, _ob atram bilem_, for
black choler, which is then superabundant in them: and Rhasis, that Arabian
physician, in his _Cont. lib. 1. cap. 9_, calls it [1302]"a necessary and
inseparable accident," to all old and decrepit persons. After seventy years
(as the Psalmist saith) [1303]"all is trouble and sorrow;" and common
experience confirms the truth of it in weak and old persons, especially
such as have lived in action all their lives, had great employment, much
business, much command, and many servants to oversee, and leave off _ex
abrupto_; as [1304]Charles the Fifth did to King Philip, resign up all on a
sudden; they are overcome with melancholy in an instant: or if they do
continue in such courses, they dote at last, (_senex bis puer_,) and are
not able to manage their estates through common infirmities incident in
their age; full of ache, sorrow and grief, children again, dizzards, they
carl many times as they sit, and talk to themselves, they are angry,
waspish, displeased with every thing, "suspicious of all, wayward,
covetous, hard" (saith Tully,) "self-willed, superstitious, self-conceited,
braggers and admirers of themselves," as [1305]Balthazar Castilio hath
truly noted of them. [1306]This natural infirmity is most eminent in old
women, and such as are poor, solitary, live in most base esteem and
beggary, or such as are witches; insomuch that Wierus, Baptista Porta,
Ulricus Molitor, Edwicus, do refer all that witches are said to do, to
imagination alone, and this humour of melancholy. And whereas it is
controverted, whether they can bewitch cattle to death, ride in the air
upon a cowl-staff out of a chimney-top, transform themselves into cats,
dogs, &c., translate bodies from place to place, meet in companies, and
dance, as they do, or have carnal copulation with the devil, they ascribe
all to this redundant melancholy, which domineers in them, to [1307]
somniferous potions, and natural causes, the devil's policy. _Non laedunt
omnino_ (saith Wierus) _aut quid mirum faciunt_, (_de Lamiis, lib. 3. cap.
36_), _ut putatur, solam vitiatam habent phantasiam_; they do no such
wonders at all, only their [1308]brains are crazed. [1309]"They think they
are witches, and can do hurt, but do not." But this opinion Bodine,
Erastus, Danaeus, Scribanius, Sebastian Michaelis, Campanella _de Sensu
rerum, lib. 4. cap. 9._ [1310]Dandinus the Jesuit, _lib. 2. de Animae
explode_; [1311]Cicogna confutes at large. That witches are melancholy,
they deny not, but not out of corrupt phantasy alone, so to delude
themselves and others, or to produce such effects.

SUBSECT. VI.--_Parents a cause by Propagation_.

That other inward inbred cause of Melancholy is our temperature, in whole
or part, which we receive from our parents, which [1312]Fernelius calls
_Praeter naturam_, or unnatural, it being an hereditary disease; for as he
justifies [1313]_Quale parentum maxime patris semen obtigerit, tales
evadunt similares spermaticaeque paries, quocunque etiam morbo Pater quum
generat tenetur, cum semine transfert, in Prolem_; such as the temperature
of the father is, such is the son's, and look what disease the father had
when he begot him, his son will have after him; [1314]"and is as well
inheritor of his infirmities, as of his lands. And where the complexion and
constitution of the father is corrupt, there ([1315]saith Roger Bacon) the
complexion and constitution of the son must needs be corrupt, and so the
corruption is derived from the father to the son." Now this doth not so
much appear in the composition of the body, according to that of
Hippocrates, [1316]"in habit, proportion, scars, and other lineaments; but
in manners and conditions of the mind," _Et patrum in natos abeunt cum
semine mores._

Seleucus had an anchor on his thigh, so had his posterity, as Trogus
records, _lib. 15._ Lepidus, in Pliny _l. 7. c. 17_, was purblind, so was
his son. That famous family of Aenobarbi were known of old, and so surnamed
from their red beards; the Austrian lip, and those Indian flat noses are
propagated, the Bavarian chin, and goggle eyes amongst the Jews, as [1317]
Buxtorfius observes; their voice, pace, gesture, looks, are likewise
derived with all the rest of their conditions and infirmities; such a
mother, such a daughter; their very [1318]affections Lemnius contends "to
follow their seed, and the malice and bad conditions of children are many
times wholly to be imputed to their parents;" I need not therefore make any
doubt of Melancholy, but that it is an hereditary disease. [1319]
Paracelsus in express words affirms it, _lib. de morb. amentium to. 4. tr.
1_; so doth [1320]Crato in an Epistle of his to Monavius. So doth Bruno
Seidelius in his book _de morbo incurab._ Montaltus proves, _cap. 11_, out
of Hippocrates and Plutarch, that such hereditary dispositions are
frequent, _et hanc (inquit) fieri reor ob participatam melancholicam
intemperantiam_ (speaking of a patient) I think he became so by
participation of Melancholy. Daniel Sennertus, _lib. 1. part 2. cap. 9_,
will have his melancholy constitution derived not only from the father to
the son, but to the whole family sometimes; _Quandoque totis familiis
hereditativam_, [1321]Forestus, in his medicinal observations, illustrates
this point, with an example of a merchant, his patient, that had this
infirmity by inheritance; so doth Rodericus a Fonseca, _tom. 1. consul.
69_, by an instance of a young man that was so affected _ex matre
melancholica_, had a melancholy mother, _et victu melancholico_, and bad
diet together. Ludovicus Mercatus, a Spanish physician, in that excellent
Tract which he hath lately written of hereditary diseases, _tom. 2. oper.
lib. 5_, reckons up leprosy, as those [1322]Galbots in Gascony, hereditary
lepers, pox, stone, gout, epilepsy, &c. Amongst the rest, this and madness
after a set time comes to many, which he calls a miraculous thing in
nature, and sticks for ever to them as an incurable habit. And that which
is more to be wondered at, it skips in some families the father, and goes
to the son, [1323]"or takes every other, and sometimes every third in a
lineal descent, and doth not always produce the same, but some like, and a
symbolizing disease." These secondary causes hence derived, are commonly so
powerful, that (as [1324]Wolfius holds) _saepe mutant decreta siderum_,
they do often alter the primary causes, and decrees of the heavens. For
these reasons, belike, the Church and commonwealth, human and Divine laws,
have conspired to avoid hereditary diseases, forbidding such marriages as
are any whit allied; and as Mercatus adviseth all families to take such,
_si fieri possit quae maxime distant natura_, and to make choice of those
that are most differing in complexion from them; if they love their own,
and respect the common good. And sure, I think, it hath been ordered by
God's especial providence, that in all ages there should be (as usually
there is) once in [1325]600 years, a transmigration of nations, to amend
and purify their blood, as we alter seed upon our land, and that there
should be as it were an inundation of those northern Goths and Vandals, and
many such like people which came out of that continent of Scandia and
Sarmatia (as some suppose) and overran, as a deluge, most part of Europe
and Africa, to alter for our good, our complexions, which were much defaced
with hereditary infirmities, which by our lust and intemperance we had
contracted. A sound generation of strong and able men were sent amongst us,
as those northern men usually are, innocuous, free from riot, and free from
diseases; to qualify and make us as those poor naked Indians are generally
at this day; and those about Brazil (as a late [1326]writer observes), in
the Isle of Maragnan, free from all hereditary diseases, or other
contagion, whereas without help of physic they live commonly 120 years or
more, as in the Orcades and many other places. Such are the common effects
of temperance and intemperance, but I will descend to particular, and show
by what means, and by whom especially, this infirmity is derived unto us.

_Filii ex senibus nati, raro sunt firmi temperamenti_, old men's children
are seldom of a good temperament, as Scoltzius supposeth, _consult. 177_,
and therefore most apt to this disease; and as [1327]Levinus Lemnius
farther adds, old men beget most part wayward, peevish, sad, melancholy
sons, and seldom merry. He that begets a child on a full stomach, will
either have a sick child, or a crazed son (as [1328]Cardan thinks),
_contradict. med. lib. 1. contradict. 18_, or if the parents be sick, or
have any great pain of the head, or megrim, headache, (Hieronymus Wolfius
[1329]doth instance in a child of Sebastian Castalio's); if a drunken man
get a child, it will never likely have a good brain, as Gellius argues,
_lib. 12. cap. 1._ _Ebrii gignunt Ebrios_, one drunkard begets another,
saith [1330]Plutarch, _symp. lib. 1. quest. 5_, whose sentence
[1331]Lemnius approves, _l. 1. c. 4._ Alsarius Crutius, _Gen. de qui sit
med. cent. 3. fol. 182._ Macrobius, _lib. 1._ Avicenna, _lib. 3. Fen. 21.
Tract 1. cap. 8_, and Aristotle himself, _sect. 2. prob. 4_, foolish,
drunken, or hair-brain women, most part bring forth children like unto
themselves, _morosos et languidos_, and so likewise he that lies with a
menstruous woman. _Intemperantia veneris, quam in nautis praesertim
insectatur [1332] Lemnius, qui uxores ineunt, nulla menstrui decursus
ratione habita nec observato interlunio, praecipua causa est, noxia,
pernitiosa, concubitum hunc exitialem ideo, et pestiferum vocat.
[1333]Rodoricus a Castro Lucitanus, detestantur ad unum omnes medici, tum
et quarta luna concepti, infelices plerumque et amentes, deliri, stolidi,
morbosi, impuri, invalidi, tetra lue sordidi minime vitales, omnibus bonis
corporis atque animi destituti: ad laborem nati, si seniores, inquit
Eustathius, ut Hercules, et alii. [1334]Judaei maxime insectantur foedum
hunc, et immundum apud Christianas Concubitum, ut illicitum abhorrent, et
apud suos prohibent; et quod Christiani toties leprosi, amentes, tot
morbili, impetigines, alphi, psorae, cutis et faciei decolorationes, tam
multi morbi epidemici, acerbi, et venenosi sint, in hunc immundum
concubitum rejiciunt, et crudeles in pignora vocant, qui quarta, luna
profluente hac mensium illuvie concubitum hunc non perhorrescunt. Damnavit
olim divina Lex et morte mulctavit hujusmodi homines, Lev. 18, 20, et inde
nati, siqui deformes aut mutili, pater dilapidatus, quod non contineret ab
[1335] immunda muliere. Gregorius Magnus, petenti Augustino nunquid apud
[1336]Britannos hujusmodi concubitum toleraret, severe prohibuit viris suis
tum misceri foeminas in consuetis suis menstruis_, &c. I spare to English
this which I have said. Another cause some give, inordinate diet, as if a
man eat garlic, onions, fast overmuch, study too hard, be over-sorrowful,
dull, heavy, dejected in mind, perplexed in his thoughts, fearful, &c.,
"their children" (saith [1337]Cardan _subtil. lib. 18_) "will be much
subject to madness and melancholy; for if the spirits of the brain be
fuzzled, or misaffected by such means, at such a time, their children will
be fuzzled in the brain: they will be dull, heavy, timorous, discontented
all their lives." Some are of opinion, and maintain that paradox or
problem, that wise men beget commonly fools; Suidas gives instance in
Aristarchus the Grammarian, _duos reliquit Filios Aristarchum et
Aristachorum, ambos stultos_; and which [1338]Erasmus urgeth in his
_Moria_, fools beget wise men. Card. _subt. l. 12_, gives this cause,
_Quoniam spiritus sapientum ob studium resolvuntur, et in cerebrum feruntur
a corde_: because their natural spirits are resolved by study, and turned
into animal; drawn from the heart, and those other parts to the brain.
Lemnius subscribes to that of Cardan, and assigns this reason, _Quod
persolvant debitum languide, et obscitanter, unde foetus a parentum
generositate desciscit_: they pay their debt (as Paul calls it) to their
wives remissly, by which means their children are weaklings, and many times
idiots and fools.

Some other causes are given, which properly pertain, and do proceed from
the mother: if she be over-dull, heavy, angry, peevish, discontented, and
melancholy, not only at the time of conception, but even all the while she
carries the child in her womb (saith Fernelius, _path. l. 1, 11_) her son
will be so likewise affected, and worse, as [1339]Lemnius adds, _l. 4. c.
7_, if she grieve overmuch, be disquieted, or by any casualty be affrighted
and terrified by some fearful object, heard or seen, she endangers her
child, and spoils the temperature of it; for the strange imagination of a
woman works effectually upon her infant, that as Baptista Porta proves,
_Physiog. caelestis l. 5. c. 2_, she leaves a mark upon it, which is most
especially seen in such as prodigiously long for such and such meats, the
child will love those meats, saith Fernelius, and be addicted to like
humours: [1340]"if a great-bellied woman see a hare, her child will often
have a harelip," as we call it. Garcaeus, _de Judiciis geniturarum, cap.
33_, hath a memorable example of one Thomas Nickell, born in the city of
Brandeburg, 1551, [1341]"that went reeling and staggering all the days of
his life, as if he would fall to the ground, because his mother being great
with child saw a drunken man reeling in the street." Such another I find in
Martin Wenrichius, _com. de ortu monstrorum, c. 17_, I saw (saith he) at
Wittenberg, in Germany, a citizen that looked like a carcass; I asked him
the cause, he replied, [1342]"His mother, when she bore him in her womb,
saw a carcass by chance, and was so sore affrighted with it, that _ex eo
foetus ei assimilatus_, from a ghastly impression the child was like it."

So many several ways are we plagued and punished for our father's defaults;
insomuch that as Fernelius truly saith, [1343]"It is the greatest part of
our felicity to be well born, and it were happy for human kind, if only
such parents as are sound of body and mind should be suffered to marry." An
husbandman will sow none but the best and choicest seed upon his land, he
will not rear a bull or a horse, except he be right shapen in all parts, or
permit him to cover a mare, except he be well assured of his breed; we make
choice of the best rams for our sheep, rear the neatest kine, and keep the
best dogs, _Quanto id diligentius in procreandis liberis observandum_? And
how careful then should we be in begetting of our children? In former times
some [1344]countries have been so chary in this behalf, so stern, that if a
child were crooked or deformed in body or mind, they made him away; so did
the Indians of old by the relation of Curtius, and many other well-governed
commonwealths, according to the discipline of those times. Heretofore in
Scotland, saith [1345]Hect. Boethius, "if any were visited with the falling
sickness, madness, gout, leprosy, or any such dangerous disease, which was
likely to be propagated from the father to the son, he was instantly
gelded; a woman kept from all company of men; and if by chance having some
such disease, she were found to be with child, she with her brood were
buried alive:" and this was done for the common good, lest the whole nation
should be injured or corrupted. A severe doom you will say, and not to be
used amongst Christians, yet more to be looked into than it is. For now by
our too much facility in this kind, in giving way for all to marry that
will, too much liberty and indulgence in tolerating all sorts, there is a
vast confusion of hereditary diseases, no family secure, no man almost free
from some grievous infirmity or other, when no choice is had, but still the
eldest must marry, as so many stallions of the race; or if rich, be they
fools or dizzards, lame or maimed, unable, intemperate, dissolute, exhaust
through riot, as he said, [1346]_jura haereditario sapere jubentur_; they
must be wise and able by inheritance: it comes to pass that our generation
is corrupt, we have many weak persons, both in body and mind, many feral
diseases raging amongst us, crazed families, _parentes, peremptores_; our
fathers bad, and we are like to be worse.


SUBSECT. I.--_Bad Diet a cause. Substance. Quality of Meats_.

According to my proposed method, having opened hitherto these secondary
causes, which are inbred with us, I must now proceed to the outward and
adventitious, which happen unto us after we are born. And those are either
evident, remote, or inward, antecedent, and the nearest: continent causes
some call them. These outward, remote, precedent causes are subdivided
again into necessary and not necessary. Necessary (because we cannot avoid
them, but they will alter us, as they are used, or abused) are those six
non-natural things, so much spoken of amongst physicians, which are
principal causes of this disease. For almost in every consultation, whereas
they shall come to speak of the causes, the fault is found, and this most
part objected to the patient; _Peccavit circa res sex non naturales_: he
hath still offended in one of those six. Montanus, _consil. 22_, consulted
about a melancholy Jew, gives that sentence, so did Frisemelica in the same
place; and in his 244 counsel, censuring a melancholy soldier, assigns that
reason of his malady, [1347]"he offended in all those six non-natural
things, which were the outward causes, from which came those inward
obstructions;" and so in the rest.

These six non-natural things are diet, retention and evacuation, which are
more material than the other because they make new matter, or else are
conversant in keeping or expelling of it. The other four are air, exercise,
sleeping, waking, and perturbations of the mind, which only alter the
matter. The first of these is diet, which consists in meat and drink, and
causeth melancholy, as it offends in substance, or accidents, that is,
quantity, quality, or the like. And well it may be called a material cause,
since that, as [1348]Fernelius holds, "it hath such a power in begetting of
diseases, and yields the matter and sustenance of them; for neither air,
nor perturbations, nor any of those other evident causes take place, or
work this effect, except the constitution of body, and preparation of
humours, do concur. That a man may say, this diet is the mother of
diseases, let the father be what he will, and from this alone, melancholy
and frequent other maladies arise." Many physicians, I confess, have
written copious volumes of this one subject, of the nature and qualities of
all manner of meats; as namely, Galen, Isaac the Jew, Halyabbas, Avicenna,
Mesue, also four Arabians, Gordonius, Villanovanus, Wecker, Johannes
Bruerinus, _sitologia de Esculentis et Poculentis_, Michael Savanarola,
_Tract 2. c. 8_, Anthony Fumanellus, _lib. de regimine senum_, Curio in his
comment on Schola Salerna, Godefridus Steckius _arte med._, Marcilius
Cognatus, Ficinus, Ranzovius, Fonseca, Lessius, Magninus, _regim.
sanitatis_, Frietagius, Hugo Fridevallius, &c., besides many other in
[1349]English, and almost every peculiar physician, discourseth at large of
all peculiar meats in his chapter of melancholy: yet because these books
are not at hand to every man, I will briefly touch what kind of meats
engender this humour, through their several species, and which are to be
avoided. How they alter and change the matter, spirits first, and after
humours, by which we are preserved, and the constitution of our body,
Fernelius and others will show you. I hasten to the thing itself: and first
of such diet as offends in substance.

_Beef._] Beef, a strong and hearty meat (cold in the first degree, dry in
the second, saith _Gal. l. 3. c. 1. de alim. fac._) is condemned by him and
all succeeding Authors, to breed gross melancholy blood: good for such as
are sound, and of a strong constitution, for labouring men if ordered
aright, corned, young, of an ox (for all gelded meats in every species are
held best), or if old, [1350]such as have been tired out with labour, are
preferred. Aubanus and Sabellicus commend Portugal beef to be the most
savoury, best and easiest of digestion; we commend ours: but all is
rejected, and unfit for such as lead a resty life, any ways inclined to
melancholy, or dry of complexion: _Tales_ (Galen thinks) _de facile
melancholicis aegritudinibus capiuntur_.

_Pork._] Pork, of all meats, is most nutritive in his own nature, [1351]
but altogether unfit for such as live at ease, are any ways unsound of body
or mind: too moist, full of humours, and therefore _noxia delicatis_, saith
Savanarola, _ex earum usu ut dubitetur an febris quartana generetur_:
naught for queasy stomachs, insomuch that frequent use of it may breed a
quartan ague.

_Goat._] Savanarola discommends goat's flesh, and so doth [1352]Bruerinus,
_l. 13. c. 19_, calling it a filthy beast, and rammish: and therefore
supposeth it will breed rank and filthy substance; yet kid, such as are
young and tender, Isaac accepts, Bruerinus and Galen, _l. 1. c. 1. de
alimentorum facultatibus_.

_Hart._] Hart and red deer [1353]hath an evil name: it yields gross
nutriment: a strong and great grained meat, next unto a horse. Which
although some countries eat, as Tartars, and they of China; yet [1354]
Galen condemns. Young foals are as commonly eaten in Spain as red deer, and
to furnish their navies, about Malaga especially, often used; but such
meats ask long baking, or seething, to qualify them, and yet all will not

Venison, Fallow Deer.] All venison is melancholy, and begets bad blood; a
pleasant meat: in great esteem with us (for we have more parks in England
than there are in all Europe besides) in our solemn feasts. 'Tis somewhat
better hunted than otherwise, and well prepared by cookery; but generally
bad, and seldom to be used.

_Hare._] Hare, a black meat, melancholy, and hard of digestion, it breeds
incubus, often eaten, and causeth fearful dreams, so doth all venison, and
is condemned by a jury of physicians. Mizaldus and some others say, that
hare is a merry meat, and that it will make one fair, as Martial's epigram
testifies to Gellia; but this is _per accidens_, because of the good sport
it makes, merry company and good discourse that is commonly at the eating
of it, and not otherwise to be understood.

_Conies._] [1355]Conies are of the nature of hares. Magninus compares them
to beef, pig, and goat, _Reg. sanit. part. 3. c. 17_; yet young rabbits by
all men are approved to be good.

Generally, all such meats as are hard of digestion breed melancholy.
Areteus, _lib. 7. cap. 5_, reckons up heads and feet, [1356]bowels, brains,
entrails, marrow, fat, blood, skins, and those inward parts, as heart,
lungs, liver, spleen, &c. They are rejected by Isaac, _lib. 2. part. 3_,
Magninus, _part. 3. cap. 17_, Bruerinus, _lib. 12_, Savanarola, _Rub. 32.
Tract. 2._

_Milk._] Milk, and all that comes of milk, as butter and cheese, curds,
&c., increase melancholy (whey only excepted, which is most wholesome):
[1357]some except asses' milk. The rest, to such as are sound, is nutritive
and good, especially for young children, but because soon turned to
corruption, [1358]not good for those that have unclean stomachs, are
subject to headache, or have green wounds, stone, &c. Of all cheeses, I
take that kind which we call Banbury cheese to be the best, _ex vetustis
pessimus_, the older, stronger, and harder, the worst, as Langius
discourseth in his Epistle to Melancthon, cited by Mizaldus, Isaac, _p. 5.
Gal. 3. de cibis boni succi_. &c.

_Fowl._] Amongst fowl, [1359]peacocks and pigeons, all fenny fowl are
forbidden, as ducks, geese, swans, herons, cranes, coots, didappers,
water-hens, with all those teals, curs, sheldrakes, and peckled fowls, that
come hither in winter out of Scandia, Muscovy, Greenland, Friesland, which
half the year are covered all over with snow, and frozen up. Though these
be fair in feathers, pleasant in taste, and have a good outside, like
hypocrites, white in plumes, and soft, their flesh is hard, black,
unwholesome, dangerous, melancholy meat; _Gravant et putrefaciant
stomachum_, saith Isaac, _part. 5. de vol._, their young ones are more
tolerable, but young pigeons he quite disapproves.

_Fishes._] Rhasis and [1360]Magninus discommend all fish, and say, they
breed viscosities, slimy nutriment, little and humorous nourishment.
Savanarola adds, cold, moist: and phlegmatic, Isaac; and therefore
unwholesome for all cold and melancholy complexions: others make a
difference, rejecting only amongst freshwater fish, eel, tench, lamprey,
crawfish (which Bright approves, _cap. 6_), and such as are bred in muddy
and standing waters, and have a taste of mud, as Franciscus Bonsuetus
poetically defines, _Lib. de aquatilibus_.

       "Nam pisces omnes, qui stagna, lacusque frequentant,
        Semper plus succi deterioris habent."

       "All fish, that standing pools, and lakes frequent,
        Do ever yield bad juice and nourishment."

Lampreys, Paulus Jovius, _c. 34. de piscibus fluvial._, highly magnifies,
and saith, None speak against them, but _inepti et scrupulosi_, some
scrupulous persons; but [1361]eels, _c. 33_, "he abhorreth in all places,
at all times, all physicians detest them, especially about the solstice."
Gomesius, _lib. 1. c. 22, de sale_, doth immoderately extol sea-fish, which
others as much vilify, and above the rest, dried, soused, indurate fish, as
ling, fumados, red-herrings, sprats, stock-fish, haberdine, poor-John, all
shellfish. [1362]Tim. Bright excepts lobster and crab. Messarius commends
salmon, which Bruerinus contradicts, _lib. 22. c. 17._ Magninus rejects
conger, sturgeon, turbot, mackerel, skate.

Carp is a fish of which I know not what to determine. Franciscus Bonsuetus
accounts it a muddy fish. Hippolitus Salvianus, in his Book _de Piscium
natura et praeparatione_, which was printed at Rome in folio, 1554, with
most elegant pictures, esteems carp no better than a slimy watery meat.
Paulus Jovius on the other side, disallowing tench, approves of it; so doth
Dubravius in his Books of Fishponds. Freitagius [1363]extols it for an
excellent wholesome meat, and puts it amongst the fishes of the best rank;
and so do most of our country gentlemen, that store their ponds almost with
no other fish. But this controversy is easily decided, in my judgment, by
Bruerinus, _l. 22. c. 13._ The difference riseth from the site and nature
of pools, [1364]sometimes muddy, sometimes sweet; they are in taste as the
place is from whence they be taken. In like manner almost we may conclude
of other fresh fish. But see more in Rondoletius, Bellonius, Oribasius,
_lib. 7. cap. 22_, Isaac, _l. 1_, especially Hippolitus Salvianus, who is
_instar omnium solus_, &c. Howsoever they may be wholesome and approved,
much use of them is not good; P. Forestus, in his medicinal observations,
[1365]relates, that Carthusian friars, whose living is most part fish, are
more subject to melancholy than any other order, and that he found by
experience, being sometimes their physician ordinary at Delft, in Holland.
He exemplifies it with an instance of one Buscodnese, a Carthusian of a
ruddy colour, and well liking, that by solitary living, and fish-eating,
became so misaffected.

_Herbs._] Amongst herbs to be eaten I find gourds, cucumbers, coleworts,
melons, disallowed, but especially cabbage. It causeth troublesome dreams,
and sends up black vapours to the brain. Galen, _loc. affect. l. 3. c. 6_,
of all herbs condemns cabbage; and Isaac, _lib. 2. c. 1._ _Animae
gravitatem facit_, it brings heaviness to the soul. Some are of opinion
that all raw herbs and salads breed melancholy blood, except bugloss and
lettuce. Crato, _consil. 21. lib. 2_, speaks against all herbs and worts,
except borage, bugloss, fennel, parsley, dill, balm, succory. Magninus,
_regim. sanitatis, part. 3. cap. 31._ _Omnes herbae simpliciter malae, via
cibi_; all herbs are simply evil to feed on (as he thinks). So did that
scoffing cook in [1366]Plautus hold:

       "Non ego coenam condio ut alii coqui solent,
        Qui mihi condita prata in patinis proferunt,
        Boves qui convivas faciunt, herbasque aggerunt."

       "Like other cooks I do not supper dress,
          That put whole meadows into a platter,
        And make no better of their guests than beeves,
          With herbs and grass to feed them fatter."

Our Italians and Spaniards do make a whole dinner of herbs and salads
(which our said Plautus calls _coenas terrestras_, Horace, _coenas sine
sanguine_), by which means, as he follows it,

[1367] "Hic homines tam brevem vitam colunt------
        Qui herbas hujusmodi in alvum suum congerunt,
        Formidolosum dictu, non esu modo,
        Quas herbas pecudes non edunt, homines edunt."

       "Their lives, that eat such herbs, must needs be short,
        And 'tis a fearful thing for to report,
        That men should feed on such a kind of meat,
        Which very juments would refuse to eat."

[1368]They are windy, and not fit therefore to be eaten of all men raw,
though qualified with oil, but in broths, or otherwise. See more of these
in every [1369]husbandman, and herbalist.

_Roots._] Roots, _Etsi quorundam gentium opes sint_, saith Bruerinus, the
wealth of some countries, and sole food, are windy and bad, or troublesome
to the head: as onions, garlic, scallions, turnips, carrots, radishes,
parsnips: Crato, _lib. 2. consil. 11_, disallows all roots, though [1370]
some approve of parsnips and potatoes. [1371]Magninus is of Crato's
opinion, [1372]"They trouble the mind, sending gross fumes to the brain,
make men mad," especially garlic, onions, if a man liberally feed on them a
year together. Guianerius, _tract. 15. cap. 2_, complains of all manner of
roots, and so doth Bruerinus, even parsnips themselves, which are the best,
_Lib. 9. cap. 14._

_Fruits._] _Pastinacarum usus succos gignit improbos_. Crato, _consil. 21.
lib. 1_, utterly forbids all manner of fruits, as pears, apples, plums,
cherries, strawberries, nuts, medlars, serves, &c. _Sanguinem inficiunt_,
saith Villanovanus, they infect the blood, and putrefy it, Magninus holds,
and must not therefore be taken _via cibi, aut quantitate magna_, not to
make a meal of, or in any great quantity. [1373]Cardan makes that a cause
of their continual sickness at Fessa in Africa, "because they live so much
on fruits, eating them thrice a day." Laurentius approves of many fruits,
in his Tract of Melancholy, which others disallow, and amongst the rest
apples, which some likewise commend, sweetings, pearmains, pippins, as good
against melancholy; but to him that is any way inclined to, or touched with
this malady, [1374]Nicholas Piso in his Practics, forbids all fruits, as
windy, or to be sparingly eaten at least, and not raw. Amongst other
fruits, [1375]Bruerinus, out of Galen, excepts grapes and figs, but I find
them likewise rejected.

_Pulse._] All pulse are naught, beans, peas, vetches, &c., they fill the
brain (saith Isaac) with gross fumes, breed black thick blood, and cause
troublesome dreams. And therefore, that which Pythagoras said to his
scholars of old, may be for ever applied to melancholy men, _A fabis
abstinete_, eat no peas, nor beans; yet to such as will needs eat them, I
would give this counsel, to prepare them according to those rules that
Arnoldus Villanovanus, and Frietagius prescribe, for eating, and dressing.
fruits, herbs, roots, pulse, &c.

_Spices._] Spices cause hot and head melancholy, and are for that cause
forbidden by our physicians to such men as are inclined to this malady, as
pepper, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, mace, dates, &c. honey and sugar. [1376]
Some except honey; to those that are cold, it may be tolerable, but [1377]
_Dulcia se in bilem vertunt_, (sweets turn into bile,) they are
obstructive. Crato therefore forbids all spice, in a consultation of his,
for a melancholy schoolmaster, _Omnia aromatica et quicquid sanguinem
adurit_: so doth Fernelius, _consil. 45._ Guianerius, _tract 15. cap. 2._
Mercurialis, _cons. 189._ To these I may add all sharp and sour things,
luscious and over-sweet, or fat, as oil, vinegar, verjuice, mustard, salt;
as sweet things are obstructive, so these are corrosive. Gomesius, in his
books, _de sale, l. 1. c. 21_, highly commends salt; so doth Codronchus in
his tract, _de sale Absynthii_, Lemn. _l. 3. c. 9. de occult, nat. mir._
yet common experience finds salt, and salt-meats, to be great procurers of
this disease. And for that cause belike those Egyptian priests abstained
from salt, even so much, as in their bread, _ut sine perturbatione anima
esset_, saith mine author, that their souls might be free from

_Bread._] Bread that is made of baser grain, as peas, beans, oats, rye, or
[1378]over-hard baked, crusty, and black, is often spoken against, as
causing melancholy juice and wind. Joh. Mayor, in the first book of his
History of Scotland, contends much for the wholesomeness of oaten bread: it
was objected to him then living at Paris in France, that his countrymen fed
on oats, and base grain, as a disgrace; but he doth ingenuously confess,
Scotland, Wales, and a third part of England, did most part use that kind
of bread, that it was as wholesome as any grain, and yielded as good
nourishment. And yet Wecker out of Galen calls it horsemeat, and fitter
for juments than men to feed on. But read Galen himself, _Lib. 1. De cibis
boni et mali succi_, more largely discoursing of corn and bread.

_Wine._] All black wines, over-hot, compound, strong thick drinks, as
Muscadine, Malmsey, Alicant, Rumney, Brownbastard, Metheglen, and the like,
of which they have thirty several kinds in Muscovy, all such made drinks
are hurtful in this case, to such as are hot, or of a sanguine choleric
complexion, young, or inclined to head-melancholy. For many times the
drinking of wine alone causeth it. Arculanus, _c. 16. in 9. Rhasis_, puts
in [1379]wine for a great cause, especially if it be immoderately used.
Guianerius, _tract. 15. c. 2_, tells a story of two Dutchmen, to whom he
gave entertainment in his house, "that [1380]in one month's space were both
melancholy by drinking of wine, one did nought but sing, the other sigh."
Galen, _l. de causis morb. c. 3._ Matthiolus on Dioscorides, and above all
other Andreas Bachius, _l. 3. 18, 19, 20_, have reckoned upon those
inconveniences that come by wine: yet notwithstanding all this, to such as
are cold, or sluggish melancholy, a cup of wine is good physic, and so doth
Mercurialis grant, _consil. 25_, in that case, if the temperature be cold,
as to most melancholy men it is, wine is much commended, if it be
moderately used.

_Cider, Perry._] Cider and perry are both cold and windy drinks, and for
that cause to be neglected, and so are all those hot spiced strong drinks.

Beer.] Beer, if it be over-new or over-stale, over-strong, or not sodden,
smell of the cask, sharp, or sour, is most unwholesome, frets, and galls,
&c. Henricus Ayrerus, in a [1381]consultation of his, for one that laboured
of hypochondriacal melancholy, discommends beer. So doth [1382] Crato in
that excellent counsel of his, _Lib. 2. consil. 21_, as too windy, because
of the hop. But he means belike that thick black Bohemian beer used in some
other parts of [1383]Germany.

        ------"nil spissius illa
        Dum bibitur, nil clarius est dum mingitur, unde
        Constat, quod multas faeces in corpore linquat."

       "Nothing comes in so thick,
        Nothing goes out so thin,
        It must needs follow then
        The dregs are left within."

As that [1384]old poet scoffed, calling it _Stygiae monstrum conforme
paludi_, a monstrous drink, like the river Styx. But let them say as they
list, to such as are accustomed unto it, "'tis a most wholesome" (so [1385]
Polydore Virgil calleth it) "and a pleasant drink," it is more subtle and
better, for the hop that rarefies it, hath an especial virtue against
melancholy, as our herbalists confess, Fuchsius approves, _Lib. 2. sec. 2.
instit. cap. 11_, and many others.

Waters] Standing waters, thick and ill-coloured, such as come forth of
pools, and moats, where hemp hath been steeped, or slimy fishes live, are
most unwholesome, putrefied, and full of mites, creepers, slimy, muddy,
unclean, corrupt, impure, by reason of the sun's heat, and still-standing;
they cause foul distemperatures in the body and mind of man, are unfit to
make drink of, to dress meat with, or to be [1386]used about men inwardly
or outwardly. They are good for many domestic uses, to wash horses, water
cattle, &c., or in time of necessity, but not otherwise. Some are of
opinion, that such fat standing waters make the best beer, and that
seething doth defecate it, as [1387]Cardan holds, _Lib. 13. subtil._ "It
mends the substance, and savour of it," but it is a paradox. Such beer may
be stronger, but not so wholesome as the other, as [1388]Jobertus truly
justifieth out of Galen, _Paradox, dec. 1. Paradox 5_, that the seething of
such impure waters doth not purge or purify them, Pliny, _lib. 31. c. 3_,
is of the same tenet, and P. Crescentius, _agricult. lib. 1. et lib. 4. c.
11. et c. 45._ Pamphilius Herilachus, _l. 4. de not. aquarum_, such waters
are naught, not to be used, and by the testimony of [1389]Galen, "breed
agues, dropsies, pleurisies, splenetic and melancholy passions, hurt the
eyes, cause a bad temperature, and ill disposition of the whole body, with
bad colour." This Jobertus stiffly maintains, _Paradox, lib. 1. part. 5_,
that it causeth blear eyes, bad colour, and many loathsome diseases to such
as use it: this which they say, stands with good reason; for as geographers
relate, the water of Astracan breeds worms in such as drink it. [1390]
Axius, or as now called Verduri, the fairest river in Macedonia, makes all
cattle black that taste of it. Aleacman now Peleca, another stream in
Thessaly, turns cattle most part white, _si polui ducas_, L. Aubanus
Rohemus refers that [1391]struma or poke of the Bavarians and Styrians to
the nature of their waters, as [1392]Munster doth that of Valesians in the
Alps, and [1393]Bodine supposeth the stuttering of some families in
Aquitania, about Labden, to proceed from the same cause, "and that the
filth is derived from the water to their bodies." So that they that use
filthy, standing, ill-coloured, thick, muddy water, must needs have muddy,
ill-coloured, impure, and infirm bodies. And because the body works upon
the mind, they shall have grosser understandings, dull, foggy, melancholy
spirits, and be really subject to all manner of infirmities.

To these noxious simples, we may reduce an infinite number of compound,
artificial, made dishes, of which our cooks afford us a great variety, as
tailors do fashions in our apparel. Such are [1394]puddings stuffed with
blood, or otherwise composed; baked, meats, soused indurate meats, fried
and broiled buttered meats; condite, powdered, and over-dried, [1395]all
cakes, simnels, buns, cracknels made with butter, spice, &c., fritters,
pancakes, pies, sausages, and those several sauces, sharp, or over-sweet,
of which _scientia popinae_, as Seneca calls it, hath served those [1396]
Apician tricks, and perfumed dishes, which Adrian the sixth Pope so much
admired in the accounts of his predecessor Leo Decimus; and which
prodigious riot and prodigality have invented in this age. These do
generally engender gross humours, fill the stomach with crudities, and all
those inward parts with obstructions. Montanus, _consil. 22_, gives
instance, in a melancholy Jew, that by eating such tart sauces, made
dishes, and salt meats, with which he was overmuch delighted, became
melancholy, and was evil affected. Such examples are familiar and common.

SUBSECT. II.--_Quantity of Diet a Cause._

There is not so much harm proceeding from the substance itself of meat, and
quality of it, in ill-dressing and preparing, as there is from the
quantity, disorder of time and place, unseasonable use of it, [1397]
intemperance, overmuch, or overlittle taking of it. A true saying it is,
_Plures crapula quam gladius_. This gluttony kills more than the sword,
this _omnivorantia et homicida gula_, this all-devouring and murdering gut.
And that of [1398]Pliny is truer, "Simple diet is the best; heaping up of
several meats is pernicious, and sauces worse; many dishes bring many
diseases." [1399]Avicen cries out, "That nothing is worse than to feed on
many dishes, or to protract the time of meats longer than ordinary; from
thence proceed our infirmities, and 'tis the fountain of all diseases,
which arise out of the repugnancy of gross humours." Thence, saith [1400]
Fernelius, come crudities, wind, oppilations, cacochymia, plethora,
cachexia, bradiopepsia, [1401]_Hinc subitae, mortes, atque intestata
senectus_, sudden death, &c., and what not.

As a lamp is choked with a multitude of oil, or a little fire with overmuch
wood quite extinguished, so is the natural heat with immoderate eating,
strangled in the body. _Pernitiosa sentina est abdomen insaturabile_: one
saith, An insatiable paunch is a pernicious sink, and the fountain of all
diseases, both of body and mind. [1402]Mercurialis will have it a peculiar
cause of this private disease; Solenander, _consil. 5. sect. 3_,
illustrates this of Mercurialis, with an example of one so melancholy, _ab
intempestivis commessationibus_, unseasonable feasting. [1403]Crato
confirms as much, in that often cited counsel, _21. lib. 2_, putting
superfluous eating for a main cause. But what need I seek farther for
proofs? Hear [1404]Hippocrates himself, _lib. 2. aphor. 10_, "Impure bodies
the more they are nourished, the more they are hurt, for the nourishment is
putrefied with vicious humours."

And yet for all this harm, which apparently follows surfeiting and
drunkenness, see how we luxuriate and rage in this kind; read what Johannes
Stuckius hath written lately of this subject, in his great volume _De
Antiquorum Conviviis_, and of our present age; _Quam [1405]portentosae
coenae_, prodigious suppers, [1406]_Qui dum invitant ad coenam efferunt ad
sepulchrum_, what Fagos, Epicures, Apetios, Heliogables, our times afford?
Lucullus' ghost walks still, and every man desires to sup in Apollo;
Aesop's costly dish is ordinarily served up. [1407]_Magis illa juvant, quae
pluris emuntur_. The dearest cates are best, and 'tis an ordinary thing to
bestow twenty or thirty pounds on a dish, some thousand crowns upon a
dinner: [1408]Mully-Hamet, king of Fez and Morocco, spent three pounds on
the sauce of a capon: it is nothing in our times, we scorn all that is
cheap. "We loathe the very [1409]light" (some of us, as Seneca notes)
"because it comes free, and we are offended with the sun's heat, and those
cool blasts, because we buy them not." This air we breathe is so common, we
care not for it; nothing pleaseth but what is dear. And if we be
[1410]witty in anything, it is _ad gulam_: If we study at all, it is
_erudito luxu_, to please the palate, and to satisfy the gut. "A cook of
old was a base knave" (as [1411]Livy complains), "but now a great man in
request; cookery is become an art, a noble science: cooks are gentlemen:"
_Venter Deus_: They wear "their brains in their bellies, and their guts in
their heads," as [1412]Agrippa taxed some parasites of his time, rushing on
their own destruction, as if a man should run upon the point of a sword,
_usque dum rumpantur comedunt_, "They eat till they burst:" [1413]All day,
all night, let the physician say what he will, imminent danger, and feral
diseases are now ready to seize upon them, that will eat till they vomit,
_Edunt ut vomant, vomut ut edant_, saith Seneca; which Dion relates of
Vitellius, _Solo transitu ciborum nutriri judicatus_: His meat did pass
through and away, or till they burst again. [1414]_Strage animantium
ventrem onerant_, and rake over all the world, as so many [1415]slaves,
belly-gods, and land-serpents, _Et totus orbis ventri nimis angustus_, the
whole world cannot satisfy their appetite. [1416]"Sea, land, rivers, lakes,
&c., may not give content to their raging guts." To make up the mess, what
immoderate drinking in every place? _Senem potum pota trahebat anus_, how
they flock to the tavern: as if they were _fruges consumere nati_, born to
no other end but to eat and drink, like Offellius Bibulus, that famous
Roman parasite, _Qui dum vixit, aut bibit aut minxit_; as so many casks to
hold wine, yea worse than a cask, that mars wine, and itself is not marred
by it, yet these are brave men, Silenus Ebrius was no braver. _Et quae
fuerunt vitia, mores sunt_: 'tis now the fashion of our times, an honour:
_Nunc vero res ista eo rediit_ (as Chrysost. _serm. 30. in v. Ephes._
comments) _Ut effeminatae ridendaeque ignaviae loco habeatur, nolle
inebriari_; 'tis now come to that pass that he is no gentleman, a very
milk-sop, a clown, of no bringing up, that will not drink; fit for no
company; he is your only gallant that plays it off finest, no disparagement
now to stagger in the streets, reel, rave, &c., but much to his fame and
renown; as in like case Epidicus told Thesprio his fellow-servant, in the
[1417]Poet. _Aedipol facinus improbum_, one urged, the other replied, _At
jam alii fecere idem, erit illi illa res honori_, 'tis now no fault, there
be so many brave examples to bear one out; 'tis a credit to have a strong
brain, and carry his liquor well; the sole contention who can drink most,
and fox his fellow the soonest. 'Tis the _summum bonum_ of our tradesmen,
their felicity, life, and soul, _Tanta dulcedine affectant_, saith Pliny,
_lib. 14. cap. 12._ _Ut magna pars non aliud vitae praemium intelligat_,
their chief comfort, to be merry together in an alehouse or tavern, as our
modern Muscovites do in their mead-inns, and Turks in their coffeehouses,
which much resemble our taverns; they will labour hard all day long to be
drunk at night, and spend _totius anni labores_, as St. Ambrose adds, in a
tippling feast; convert day into night, as Seneca taxes some in his times,
_Pervertunt officia anoctis et lucis_; when we rise, they commonly go to
bed, like our antipodes,

       "Nosque ubi primus equis oriens afflavit anhelis,
        Illis sera rubens ascendit lumina vesper."

So did Petronius in Tacitus, Heliogabalus in Lampridius.

[1418]  ------"Noctes vigilibat ad ipsum
        Mane, diem totum stertebat?"------

        ------"He drank the night away
        Till rising dawn, then snored out all the day."

Snymdiris the Sybarite never saw the sun rise or set so much as once in
twenty years. Verres, against whom Tully so much inveighs, in winter he
never was _extra tectum vix extra lectum_, never almost out of bed, [1419]
still wenching and drinking; so did he spend his time, and so do myriads in
our days. They have _gymnasia bibonum_, schools and rendezvous; these
centaurs and Lapithae toss pots and bowls as so many balls; invent new
tricks, as sausages, anchovies, tobacco, caviar, pickled oysters, herrings,
fumados, &c.: innumerable salt meats to increase their appetite, and study
how to hurt themselves by taking antidotes [1420]"to carry their drink the
better; [1421]and when nought else serves, they will go forth, or be
conveyed out, to empty their gorge, that they may return to drink afresh."
They make laws, _insanas leges, contra bibendi fallacias_, and [1422]brag
of it when they have done, crowning that man that is soonest gone, as their
drunken predecessors have done, --[1423]_quid ego video_? Ps. _Cum corona
Pseudolum ebrium tuum_--. And when they are dead, will have a can of wine
with [1424]Maron's old woman to be engraven on their tombs. So they triumph
in villainy, and justify their wickedness; with Rabelais, that French
Lucian, drunkenness is better for the body than physic, because there be
more old drunkards than old physicians. Many such frothy arguments they
have, [1425]inviting and encouraging others to do as they do, and love them
dearly for it (no glue like to that of good fellowship). So did Alcibiades
in Greece; Nero, Bonosus, Heliogabalus in Rome, or Alegabalus rather, as he
was styled of old (as [1426]Ignatius proves out of some old coins). So do
many great men still, as [1427]Heresbachius observes. When a prince drinks
till his eyes stare, like Bitias in the Poet,

[1428]  ------("ille impiger hausit
        Spumantem vino pateram.")

        ------"a thirsty soul;
        He took challenge and embrac'd the bowl;
        With pleasure swill'd the gold, nor ceased to draw
        Till he the bottom of the brimmer saw."

and comes off clearly, sound trumpets, fife and drums, the spectators will
applaud him, "the [1429]bishop himself (if he belie them not) with his
chaplain will stand by and do as much," _O dignum principe haustum_, 'twas
done like a prince. "Our Dutchmen invite all comers with a pail and a
dish," _Velut infundibula integras obbas exhauriunt, et in monstrosis
poculis, ipsi monstrosi monstrosius epotant_, "making barrels of their
bellies." _Incredibile dictu_, as [1430]one of their own countrymen
complains: [1431]_Quantum liquoris immodestissima gens capiat_, &c. "How
they love a man that will be drunk, crown him and honour him for it," hate
him that will not pledge him, stab him, kill him: a most intolerable
offence, and not to be forgiven. [1432]"He is a mortal enemy that will not
drink with him," as Munster relates of the Saxons. So in Poland, he is the
best servitor, and the honestest fellow, saith Alexander Gaguinus, [1433]
"that drinketh most healths to the honour of his master, he shall be
rewarded as a good servant, and held the bravest fellow that carries his
liquor best," when a brewer's horse will bear much more than any sturdy
drinker, yet for his noble exploits in this kind, he shall be accounted a
most valiant man, for [1434]_Tam inter epulas fortis vir esse potest ac in
bello_, as much valour is to be found in feasting as in fighting, and some
of our city captains, and carpet knights will make this good, and prove it.
Thus they many times wilfully pervert the good temperature of their bodies,
stifle their wits, strangle nature, and degenerate into beasts.

Some again are in the other extreme, and draw this mischief on their heads
by too ceremonious and strict diet, being over-precise, cockney-like, and
curious in their observation of meats, times, as that _Medicina statica_
prescribes, just so many ounces at dinner, which Lessius enjoins, so much
at supper, not a little more, nor a little less, of such meat, and at such
hours, a diet-drink in the morning, cock-broth, China-broth, at dinner,
plum-broth, a chicken, a rabbit, rib of a rack of mutton, wing of a capon,
the merry-thought of a hen, &c.; to sounder bodies this is too nice and
most absurd. Others offend in overmuch fasting: pining adays, saith [1435]
Guianerius, and waking anights, as many Moors and Turks in these our times
do. "Anchorites, monks, and the rest of that superstitious rank (as the
same Guianerius witnesseth, that he hath often seen to have happened in his
time) through immoderate fasting, have been frequently mad." Of such men
belike Hippocrates speaks, _l. Aphor. 5_, when as he saith, [1436]"they
more offend in too sparing diet, and are worse damnified, than they that
feed liberally, and are ready to surfeit."

SUBSECT. III.--_Custom of Diet, Delight, Appetite, Necessity, how they
cause or hinder_.

No rule is so general, which admits not some exception; to this, therefore,
which hath been hitherto said, (for I shall otherwise put most men out of
commons,) and those inconveniences which proceed from the substance of
meats, an intemperate or unseasonable use of them, custom somewhat detracts
and qualifies, according to that of Hippocrates, _2 Aphoris. 50._ [1437]
"Such things as we have been long accustomed to, though they be evil in
their own nature, yet they are less offensive." Otherwise it might well be
objected that it were a mere [1438]tyranny to live after those strict rules
of physic; for custom [1439]doth alter nature itself, and to such as are
used to them it makes bad meats wholesome, and unseasonable times to cause
no disorder. Cider and perry are windy drinks, so are all fruits windy in
themselves, cold most part, yet in some shires of [1440]England, Normandy
in France, Guipuscoa in Spain, 'tis their common drink, and they are no
whit offended with it. In Spain, Italy, and Africa, they live most on
roots, raw herbs, camel's [1441]milk, and it agrees well with them: which
to a stranger will cause much grievance. In Wales, _lacticiniis vescuntur_,
as Humphrey Llwyd confesseth, a Cambro-Briton himself, in his elegant
epistle to Abraham Ortelius, they live most on white meats: in Holland on
fish, roots, [1442]butter; and so at this day in Greece, as [1443]Bellonius
observes, they had much rather feed on fish than flesh. With us, _Maxima
pars victus in carne consistit_, we feed on flesh most part, saith
[1444]Polydore Virgil, as all northern countries do; and it would be very
offensive to us to live after their diet, or they to live after ours. We
drink beer, they wine; they use oil, we butter; we in the north are
[1445]great eaters; they most sparing in those hotter countries; and yet
they and we following our own customs are well pleased. An Ethiopian of old
seeing an European eat bread, wondered, _quomodo stercoribus vescentes
viverimus_, how we could eat such kind of meats: so much differed his
countrymen from ours in diet, that as mine [1446]author infers, _si quis
illorum victum apud nos aemulari vellet_; if any man should so feed with
us, it would be all one to nourish, as Cicuta, Aconitum, or Hellebore
itself. At this day in China the common people live in a manner altogether
on roots and herbs, and to the wealthiest, horse, ass, mule, dogs,
cat-flesh, is as delightsome as the rest, so [1447]Mat. Riccius the Jesuit
relates, who lived many years amongst them. The Tartars eat raw meat, and
most commonly [1448]horse-flesh, drink milk and blood, as the nomades of
old. _Et lac concretum cum sanguine potat equino_. They scoff at our
Europeans for eating bread, which they call tops of weeds, and horse meat,
not fit for men; and yet Scaliger accounts them a sound and witty nation,
living a hundred years; even in the civilest country of them they do thus,
as Benedict the Jesuit observed in his travels, from the great Mogul's
Court by land to Pekin, which Riccius contends to be the same with Cambulu
in Cataia. In Scandia their bread is usually dried fish, and so likewise in
the Shetland Isles; and their other fare, as in Iceland, saith
[1449]Dithmarus Bleskenius, butter, cheese, and fish; their drink water,
their lodging on the ground. In America in many places their bread is
roots, their meat palmettos, pinas, potatoes, &c., and such fruits. There
be of them too that familiarly drink [1450]salt seawater all their lives,
eat [1451]raw meat, grass, and that with delight. With some, fish,
serpents, spiders: and in divers places they [1452]eat man's flesh, raw and
roasted, even the Emperor [1453]Montezuma himself. In some coasts, again,
[1454]one tree yields them cocoanuts, meat and drink, fire, fuel, apparel;
with his leaves, oil, vinegar, cover for houses, &c., and yet these men
going naked, feeding coarse, live commonly a hundred years, are seldom or
never sick; all which diet our physicians forbid. In Westphalia they feed
most part on fat meats and worts, knuckle deep, and call it [1455]_cerebrum
Iovis_: in the Low Countries with roots, in Italy frogs and snails are
used. The Turks, saith Busbequius, delight most in fried meats. In Muscovy,
garlic and onions are ordinary meat and sauce, which would be pernicious to
such as are unaccustomed to them, delightsome to others; and all is
[1456]because they have been brought up unto it. Husbandmen, and such as
labour, can eat fat bacon, salt gross meat, hard cheese, &c., (_O dura
messorum illa_), coarse bread at all times, go to bed and labour upon a
full stomach, which to some idle persons would be present death, and is
against the rules of physic, so that custom is all in all. Our travellers
find this by common experience when they come in far countries, and use
their diet, they are suddenly offended, [1457]as our Hollanders and
Englishmen when they touch upon the coasts of Africa, those Indian capes
and islands, are commonly molested with calentures, fluxes, and much
distempered by reason of their fruits. [1458]_Peregrina, etsi suavia solent
vescentibus perturbationes insignes adferre_, strange meats, though
pleasant, cause notable alterations and distempers. On the other side, use
or custom mitigates or makes all good again. Mithridates by often use,
which Pliny wonders at, was able to drink poison; and a maid, as Curtius
records, sent to Alexander from King Porus, was brought up with poison from
her infancy. The Turks, saith Bellonius, lib. 3. c. 15, eat opium
familiarly, a dram at once, which we dare not take in grains. [1459]Garcias
ab Horto writes of one whom he saw at Goa in the East Indies, that took ten
drams of opium in three days; and yet _consulto loquebatur_, spake
understandingly, so much can custom do. [1460] Theophrastus speaks of a
shepherd that could eat hellebore in substance. And therefore Cardan
concludes out of Galen, _Consuetudinem utcunque ferendam, nisi valde
malam_. Custom is howsoever to be kept, except it be extremely bad: he
adviseth all men to keep their old customs, and that by the authority of
[1461]Hippocrates himself, _Dandum aliquid tempori, aetati regioni,
consuetudini_, and therefore to [1462]continue as they began, be it diet,
bath, exercise, &c., or whatsoever else.

Another exception is delight, or appetite, to such and such meats: though
they be hard of digestion, melancholy; yet as Fuchsius excepts, _cap. 6.
lib. 2. Instit. sect. 2_, [1463]"The stomach doth readily digest, and
willingly entertain such meats we love most, and are pleasing to us, abhors
on the other side such as we distaste." Which Hippocrates confirms,
_Aphoris. 2. 38._ Some cannot endure cheese, out of a secret antipathy; or
to see a roasted duck, which to others is a [1464]delightsome meat.

The last exception is necessity, poverty, want, hunger, which drives men
many times to do that which otherwise they are loath, cannot endure, and
thankfully to accept of it: as beverage in ships, and in sieges of great
cities, to feed on dogs, cats, rats, and men themselves. Three outlaws in
[1465]Hector Boethius, being driven to their shifts, did eat raw flesh, and
flesh of such fowl as they could catch, in one of the Hebrides for some few
months. These things do mitigate or disannul that which hath been said of
melancholy meats, and make it more tolerable; but to such as are wealthy,
live plenteously, at ease, may take their choice, and refrain if they will,
these viands are to be forborne, if they be inclined to, or suspect
melancholy, as they tender their healths: Otherwise if they be intemperate,
or disordered in their diet, at their peril be it. _Qui monet amat, Ave et

       "He who advises is your friend
        Farewell, and to your health attend."

SUBSECT. IV.--_Retention and Evacuation a cause, and how_.

Of retention and evacuation, there be divers kinds, which are either
concomitant, assisting, or sole causes many times of melancholy. [1466]
Galen reduceth defect and abundance to this head; others [1467]"All that is
separated, or remains."

_Costiveness_.] In the first rank of these, I may well reckon up
costiveness, and keeping in of our ordinary excrements, which as it often
causeth other diseases, so this of melancholy in particular. [1468]Celsus,
lib. 1. cap. 3, saith, "It produceth inflammation of the head, dullness,
cloudiness, headache," &c. Prosper Calenus, _lib. de atra bile_, will have
it distemper not the organ only, [1469]"but the mind itself by troubling of
it:" and sometimes it is a sole cause of madness, as you may read in the
first book of [1470]Skenkius's Medicinal Observations. A young merchant
going to Nordeling fair in Germany, for ten days' space never went to
stool; at his return he was [1471]grievously melancholy, thinking that he
was robbed, and would not be persuaded but that all his money was gone; his
friends thought he had some philtrum given him, but Cnelius, a physician,
being sent for, found his [1472]costiveness alone to be the cause, and
thereupon gave him a clyster, by which he was speedily recovered.
Trincavellius, _consult. 35. lib. 1_, saith as much of a melancholy lawyer,
to whom he administered physic, and Rodericus a Fonseca, _consult. 85. tom.
2_, [1473]of a patient of his, that for eight days was bound, and therefore
melancholy affected. Other retentions and evacuations there are, not simply
necessary, but at some times; as Fernelius accounts them, _Path. lib. 1.
cap. 15_, as suppression of haemorrhoids, monthly issues in women, bleeding
at nose, immoderate or no use at all of Venus: or any other ordinary

[1474]Detention of haemorrhoids, or monthly issues, Villanovanus _Breviar.
lib. 1. cap. 18._ Arculanus, _cap. 16. in 9. Rhasis_, Vittorius Faventinus,
_pract. mag. tract. 2. cap. 15._ Bruel, &c. put for ordinary causes.
Fuchsius, _l. 2. sect. 5. c. 30_, goes farther, and saith, [1475]"That many
men unseasonably cured of the haemorrhoids have been corrupted with
melancholy, seeking to avoid Scylla, they fall into Charybdis." Galen, _l.
de hum. commen. 3. ad text. 26_, illustrates this by an example of Lucius
Martius, whom he cured of madness, contracted by this means: And [1476]
Skenkius hath two other instances of two melancholy and mad women, so
caused from the suppression of their months. The same may be said of
bleeding at the nose, if it be suddenly stopped, and have been formerly
used, as [1477]Villanovanus urgeth: And [1478]Fuchsius, _lib. 2. sect. 5.
cap. 33_, stiffly maintains, "That without great danger, such an issue may
not be stayed."

Venus omitted produceth like effects. Mathiolus, _epist. 5. l. penult._,
[1479]"avoucheth of his knowledge, that some through bashfulness abstained
from venery, and thereupon became very heavy and dull; and some others that
were very timorous, melancholy, and beyond all measure sad." Oribasius,
_med. collect. l. 6. c. 37_, speaks of some, [1480]"That if they do not use
carnal copulation, are continually troubled with heaviness and headache;
and some in the same case by intermission of it." Not use of it hurts many,
Arculanus, _c. 6. in 9. Rhasis, et Magninus, part. 3. cap. 5_, think,
because it [1481]"sends up poisoned vapours to the brain and heart." And so
doth Galen himself hold, "That if this natural seed be over-long kept (in
some parties) it turns to poison." Hieronymus Mercurialis, in his chapter
of melancholy, cites it for an especial cause of this malady,
[1482]priapismus, satyriasis, &c. Haliabbas, _5. Theor. c. 36_, reckons up
this and many other diseases. Villanovanus _Breviar. l. 1. c. 18_, saith,
"He knew [1483]many monks and widows grievously troubled with melancholy,
and that from this sole cause." [1484]Ludovicus Mercatus, _l. 2. de
mulierum affect. cap. 4_, and Rodericus a Castro, _de morbis mulier. l. 2.
c. 3_, treat largely of this subject, and will have it produce a peculiar
kind of melancholy in stale maids, nuns, and widows, _Ob suppressionem
mensium et venerem omissam, timidae, moestae anxiae, verecundae,
suspicioscae, languentes, consilii inopes, cum summa vitae et rerum
meliorum desperatione_, &c., they are melancholy in the highest degree, and
all for want of husbands. Aelianus Montaltus, _cap. 37. de melanchol._,
confirms as much out of Galen; so doth Wierus, Christophorus a Vega _de
art. med. lib. 3. c. 14_, relates many such examples of men and women, that
he had seen so melancholy. Felix Plater in the first book of his
Observations, [1485]"tells a story of an ancient gentleman in Alsatia, that
married a young wife, and was not able to pay his debts in that kind for a
long time together, by reason of his several infirmities: but she, because
of this inhibition of Venus, fell into a horrible fury, and desired every
one that came to see her, by words, looks, and gestures, to have to do with
her," &c. [1486]Bernardus Paternus, a physician, saith, "He knew a good
honest godly priest, that because he would neither willingly marry, nor
make use of the stews, fell into grievous melancholy fits." Hildesheim,
_spicel. 2_, hath such another example of an Italian melancholy priest, in
a consultation had _Anno_ 1580. Jason Pratensis gives instance in a married
man, that from his wife's death abstaining, [1487]"after marriage, became
exceedingly melancholy," Rodericus a Fonseca in a young man so misaffected,
_Tom. 2. consult. 85._ To these you may add, if you please, that conceited
tale of a Jew, so visited in like sort, and so cured, out of Poggius

Intemperate Venus is all but as bad in the other extreme. Galen, _l. 6. de
mortis popular. sect. 5. text. 26_, reckons up melancholy amongst those
diseases which are [1488]"exasperated by venery:" so doth Avicenna, _2, 3,
c. 11._ Oribasius, _loc. citat._ Ficinus, _lib. 2. de sanitate tuenda_.
Marsilius Cognatus, Montaltus, _cap. 27._ Guianerius, _Tract. 3. cap. 2._
Magninus, _cap. 5. part. 3._ [1489]gives the reason, because [1490]"it
infrigidates and dries up the body, consumes the spirits; and would
therefore have all such as are cold and dry to take heed of and to avoid it
as a mortal enemy." Jacchinus _in 9 Rhasis, cap. 15_, ascribes the same
cause, and instanceth in a patient of his, that married a young wife in a
hot summer, [1491]"and so dried himself with chamber-work, that he became
in short space from melancholy, mad:" he cured him by moistening remedies.
The like example I find in Laelius a Fonte Eugubinus, _consult. 129_, of a
gentleman of Venice, that upon the same occasion was first melancholy,
afterwards mad. Read in him the story at large.

Any other evacuation stopped will cause it, as well as these above named,
be it bile, [1492]ulcer, issue, &c. Hercules de Saxonia, _lib. 1. c. 16_,
and Gordonius, verify this out of their experience. They saw one wounded in
the head who as long as the sore was open, _Lucida habuit mentis
intervalla_, was well; but when it was stopped, _Rediit melancholia_, his
melancholy fit seized on him again.

Artificial evacuations are much like in effect, as hot houses, baths,
bloodletting, purging, unseasonably and immoderately used. [1493]Baths dry
too much, if used in excess, be they natural or artificial, and offend
extreme hot, or cold; [1494]one dries, the other refrigerates overmuch.
Montanus, _consil. 137_, saith, they overheat the liver. Joh. Struthius,
_Stigmat. artis. l. 4. c. 9_, contends, [1495]"that if one stay longer than
ordinary at the bath, go in too oft, or at unseasonable times, he putrefies
the humours in his body." To this purpose writes Magninus, _l. 3. c. 5._
Guianerius, _Tract. 15. c. 21_, utterly disallows all hot baths in
melancholy adust. [1496]"I saw" (saith he) "a man that laboured of the
gout, who to be freed of this malady came to the bath, and was instantly
cured of his disease, but got another worse, and that was madness." But
this judgment varies as the humour doth, in hot or cold: baths may be good
for one melancholy man, bad for another; that which will cure it in this
party, may cause it in a second.

_Phlebotomy_.] Phlebotomy, many times neglected, may do much harm to the
body, when there is a manifest redundance of bad humours, and melancholy
blood; and when these humours heat and boil, if this be not used in time,
the parties affected, so inflamed, are in great danger to be mad; but if it
be unadvisedly, importunely, immoderately used, it doth as much harm by
refrigerating the body, dulling the spirits, and consuming them: as Joh.
[1497]Curio in his 10th chapter well reprehends, such kind of letting blood
doth more hurt than good: [1498]"The humours rage much more than they did
before, and is so far from avoiding melancholy, that it increaseth it, and
weakeneth the sight." [1499]Prosper Calenus observes as much of all
phlebotomy, except they keep a very good diet after it; yea, and as
[1500]Leonartis Jacchinus speaks out of his own experience, [1501]"The
blood is much blacker to many men after their letting of blood than it was
at first." For this cause belike Salust. Salvinianus, _l. 2. c. 1_, will
admit or hear of no bloodletting at all in this disease, except it be
manifest it proceed from blood: he was (it appears) by his own words in
that place, master of an hospital of mad men, [1502]"and found by long
experience, that this kind of evacuation, either in head, arm, or any other
part, did more harm than good." To this opinion of his, [1503]Felix Plater
is quite opposite, "though some wink at, disallow and quite contradict all
phlebotomy in melancholy, yet by long experience I have found innumerable
so saved, after they had been twenty, nay, sixty times let blood, and to
live happily after it. It was an ordinary thing of old, in Galen's time, to
take at once from such men six pounds of blood, which now we dare scarce
take in ounces: _sed viderint medici_;" great books are written of this

Purging upward and downward, in abundance of bad humours omitted, may be
for the worst; so likewise as in the precedent, if overmuch, too frequent
or violent, it [1504]weakeneth their strength, saith Fuchsius, _l. 2.
sect., 2 c. 17_, or if they be strong or able to endure physic, yet it
brings them to an ill habit, they make their bodies no better than
apothecaries' shops, this and such like infirmities must needs follow.

SUBSECT. V.--_Bad Air, a cause of Melancholy_.

Air is a cause of great moment, in producing this, or any other disease,
being that it is still taken into our bodies by respiration, and our more
inner parts. [1505]"If it be impure and foggy, it dejects the spirits, and
causeth diseases by infection of the heart," as Paulus hath it, _lib. 1. c.
49._ Avicenna, _lib. 1. Gal. de san. tuenda_. Mercurialis, Montaltus, &c.
[1506]Fernelius saith, "A thick air thickeneth the blood and humours."
[1507]Lemnius reckons up two main things most profitable, and most
pernicious to our bodies; air and diet: and this peculiar disease, nothing
sooner causeth [1508](Jobertus holds) "than the air wherein we breathe and
live." [1509]Such as is the air, such be our spirits; and as our spirits,
such are our humours. It offends commonly if it be too [1510]hot and dry,
thick, fuliginous, cloudy, blustering, or a tempestuous air. Bodine in his
fifth Book, _De repub. cap. 1, 5_, of his Method of History, proves that
hot countries are most troubled with melancholy, and that there are
therefore in Spain, Africa, and Asia Minor, great numbers of mad men,
insomuch that they are compelled in all cities of note, to build peculiar
hospitals for them. Leo [1511]Afer, _lib. 3. de Fessa urbe_, Ortelius and
Zuinger, confirm as much: they are ordinarily so choleric in their
speeches, that scarce two words pass without railing or chiding in common
talk, and often quarrelling in their streets. [1512]Gordonius will have
every man take notice of it: "Note this" (saith he) "that in hot countries
it is far more familiar than in cold." Although this we have now said be
not continually so, for as [1513]Acosta truly saith, under the Equator
itself, is a most temperate habitation, wholesome air, a paradise of
pleasure: the leaves ever green, cooling showers. But it holds in such as
are intemperately hot, as [1514]Johannes a Meggen found in Cyprus, others
in Malta, Aupulia, and the [1515]Holy Land, where at some seasons of the
year is nothing but dust, their rivers dried up, the air scorching hot, and
earth inflamed; insomuch that many pilgrims going barefoot for devotion
sake, from Joppa to Jerusalem upon the hot sands, often run mad, or else
quite overwhelmed with sand, _profundis arenis_, as in many parts of
Africa, Arabia Deserta, Bactriana, now Charassan, when the west wind blows
[1516]_Involuti arenis transeuntes necantur_. [1517]Hercules de Saxonia, a
professor in Venice, gives this cause why so many Venetian women are
melancholy, _Quod diu sub sole degant_, they tarry too long in the sun.
Montanus, _consil. 21_, amongst other causes assigns this; Why that Jew his
patient was mad, _Quod tam multum exposuit se calori et frigori_: he
exposed himself so much to heat and cold, and for that reason in Venice,
there is little stirring in those brick paved streets in summer about noon,
they are most part then asleep: as they are likewise in the great Mogol's
countries, and all over the East Indies. At Aden in Arabia, as [1518]
Lodovicus Vertomannus relates in his travels, they keep their markets in
the night, to avoid extremity of heat; and in Ormus, like cattle in a
pasture, people of all sorts lie up to the chin in water all day long. At
Braga in Portugal; Burgos in Castile; Messina in Sicily, all over Spain and
Italy, their streets are most part narrow, to avoid the sunbeams. The Turks
wear great turbans _ad fugandos solis radios_, to refract the sunbeams; and
much inconvenience that hot air of Bantam in Java yields to our men, that
sojourn there for traffic; where it is so hot, [1519]"that they that are
sick of the pox, lie commonly bleaching in the sun, to dry up their sores."
Such a complaint I read of those isles of Cape Verde, fourteen degrees from
the Equator, they do _male audire_: [1520]One calls them the unhealthiest
clime of the world, for fluxes, fevers, frenzies, calentures, which
commonly seize on seafaring men that touch at them, and all by reason of a
hot distemperature of the air. The hardiest men are offended with this
heat, and stiffest clowns cannot resist it, as Constantine affirms,
_Agricult. l. 2. c. 45._ They that are naturally born in such air, may not
[1521]endure it, as Niger records of some part of Mesopotamia, now called
Diarbecha: _Quibusdam in locis saevienti aestui adeo subjecta est, ut
pleraque animalia fervore solis et coeli extinguantur_, 'tis so hot there
in some places, that men of the country and cattle are killed with it; and
[1522]Adricomius of Arabia Felix, by reason of myrrh, frankincense, and hot
spices there growing, the air is so obnoxious to their brains, that the
very inhabitants at some times cannot abide it, much less weaklings and
strangers. [1523]Amatus Lusitanus, _cent. 1. curat. 45_, reports of a young
maid, that was one Vincent a currier's daughter, some thirteen years of
age, that would wash her hair in the heat of the day (in July) and so let
it dry in the sun, [1524]"to make it yellow, but by that means tarrying too
long in the heat, she inflamed her head, and made herself mad."

Cold air in the other extreme is almost as bad as hot, and so doth
Montaltus esteem of it, _c. 11_, if it be dry withal. In those northern
countries, the people are therefore generally dull, heavy, and many
witches, which (as I have before quoted) Saxo Grammaticus, Olaus, Baptista
Porta ascribe to melancholy. But these cold climes are more subject to
natural melancholy (not this artificial) which is cold and dry: for which
cause [1525]Mercurius Britannicus belike puts melancholy men to inhabit
just under the Pole. The worst of the three is a [1526]thick, cloudy,
misty, foggy air, or such as come from fens, moorish grounds, lakes,
muck-hills, draughts, sinks, where any carcasses, or carrion lies, or from
whence any stinking fulsome smell comes: Galen, Avicenna, Mercurialis, new
and old physicians, hold that such air is unwholesome, and engenders
melancholy, plagues, and what not? [1527]Alexandretta, an haven-town in the
Mediterranean Sea, Saint John de Ulloa, an haven in Nova-Hispania, are much
condemned for a bad air, so are Durazzo in Albania, Lithuania, Ditmarsh,
Pomptinae Paludes in Italy, the territories about Pisa, Ferrara, &c. Romney
Marsh with us; the Hundreds in Essex, the fens in Lincolnshire. Cardan, _de
rerum varietate, l. 17, c. 96_, finds fault with the sight of those rich,
and most populous cities in the Low Countries, as Bruges, Ghent, Amsterdam,
Leiden, Utrecht, &c. the air is bad; and so at Stockholm in Sweden; Regium
in Italy, Salisbury with us, Hull and Lynn: they may be commodious for
navigation, this new kind of fortification, and many other good necessary
uses; but are they so wholesome? Old Rome hath descended from the hills to
the valley, 'tis the site of most of our new cities, and held best to build
in plains, to take the opportunity of rivers. Leander Albertus pleads hard
for the air and site of Venice, though the black moorish lands appear at
every low water: the sea, fire, and smoke (as he thinks) qualify the air;
and [1528]some suppose, that a thick foggy air helps the memory, as in them
of Pisa in Italy; and our Camden, out of Plato, commends the site of
Cambridge, because it is so near the fens. But let the site of such places
be as it may, how can they be excused that have a delicious seat, a
pleasant air, and all that nature can afford, and yet through their own
nastiness, and sluttishness, immund and sordid manner of life, suffer their
air to putrefy, and themselves to be chocked up? Many cities in Turkey do
_male audire_ in this kind: Constantinople itself, where commonly carrion
lies in the street. Some find the same fault in Spain, even in Madrid, the
king's seat, a most excellent air, a pleasant site; but the inhabitants are
slovens, and the streets uncleanly kept.

A troublesome tempestuous air is as bad as impure, rough and foul weather,
impetuous winds, cloudy dark days, as it is commonly with us, _Coelum visu
foedum_, [1529]Polydore calls it a filthy sky, _et in quo facile generantur
nubes_; as Tully's brother Quintus wrote to him in Rome, being then
quaestor in Britain. "In a thick and cloudy air" (saith Lemnius) "men are
tetric, sad, and peevish: And if the western winds blow, and that there be
a calm, or a fair sunshine day, there is a kind of alacrity in men's minds;
it cheers up men and beasts: but if it be a turbulent, rough, cloudy,
stormy weather, men are sad, lumpish, and much dejected, angry, waspish,
dull, and melancholy." This was [1530]Virgil's experiment of old,

       "Verum ubi tempestas, et coeli mobilis humor
        Mutavere vices, et Jupiter humidus Austro,
        Vertuntur species animorum, et pectore motus
        Concipiunt alios"------

       "But when the face of Heaven changed is
          To tempests, rain, from season fair:
        Our minds are altered, and in our breasts
          Forthwith some new conceits appear."

And who is not weather-wise against such and such conjunctions of planets,
moved in foul weather, dull and heavy in such tempestuous seasons? [1531]
_Gelidum contristat Aquarius annum_: the time requires, and the autumn
breeds it; winter is like unto it, ugly, foul, squalid, the air works on
all men, more or less, but especially on such as are melancholy, or
inclined to it, as Lemnius holds, [1532]"They are most moved with it, and
those which are already mad, rave downright, either in, or against a
tempest. Besides, the devil many times takes his opportunity of such
storms, and when the humours by the air be stirred, he goes in with them,
exagitates our spirits, and vexeth our souls; as the sea waves, so are the
spirits and humours in our bodies tossed with tempestuous winds and
storms." To such as are melancholy therefore, Montanus, _consil. 24_, will
have tempestuous and rough air to be avoided, and _consil. 27_, all night
air, and would not have them to walk abroad, but in a pleasant day.
Lemnius, _l. 3. c. 3_, discommends the south and eastern winds, commends
the north. Montanus, _consil. 31._ [1533]"Will not any windows to be opened
in the night." _Consil. 229. et consil. 230_, he discommends especially the
south wind, and nocturnal air: So doth [1534]Plutarch. The night and
darkness makes men sad, the like do all subterranean vaults, dark houses in
caves and rocks, desert places cause melancholy in an instant, especially
such as have not been used to it, or otherwise accustomed. Read more of air
in Hippocrates, _Aetius, l. 3. a c. 171. ad 175._ Oribasius, _a c. 1. ad
21._ Avicen. _l. 1. can. Fen. 2. doc. 2. Fen. 1. c. 123_ to the 12, &c.

SUBSECT. VI.--_Immoderate Exercise a cause, and how. Solitariness,

Nothing so good but it may be abused: nothing better than exercise (if
opportunely used) for the preservation of the body: nothing so bad if it be
unseasonable. violent, or overmuch. Fernelius out of Galen, _Path. lib. 1.
c. 16_, saith, [1535]"That much exercise and weariness consumes the spirits
and substance, refrigerates the body; and such humours which Nature would
have otherwise concocted and expelled, it stirs up and makes them rage:
which being so enraged, diversely affect and trouble the body and mind." So
doth it, if it be unseasonably used, upon a full stomach, or when the body
is full of crudities, which Fuchsius so much inveighs against, _lib. 2.
instit. sec. 2. c. 4_, giving that for a cause, why schoolboys in Germany
are so often scabbed, because they use exercise presently after meats.
[1536]Bayerus puts in a caveat against such exercise, because "it
[1537]corrupts the meat in the stomach, and carries the same juice raw, and
as yet undigested, into the veins" (saith Lemnius), "which there putrefies
and confounds the animal spirits." Crato, _consil. 21. l. 2_,
[1538]protests against all such exercise after meat, as being the greatest
enemy to concoction that may be, and cause of corruption of humours, which
produce this, and many other diseases. Not without good reason then doth
Salust. Salvianus, _l. 2. c. 1_, and Leonartus Jacchinus, _in 9. Rhasis_,
Mercurialis, Arcubanus, and many other, set down [1539]immoderate exercise
as a most forcible cause of melancholy.

Opposite to exercise is idleness (the badge of gentry) or want of exercise,
the bane of body and mind, the nurse of naughtiness, stepmother of
discipline, the chief author of all mischief, one of the seven deadly sins,
and a sole cause of this and many other maladies, the devil's cushion, as
[1540]Gualter calls it, his pillow and chief reposal. "For the mind can
never rest, but still meditates on one thing or other, except it be
occupied about some honest business, of his own accord it rusheth into
melancholy." [1541]"As too much and violent exercise offends on the one
side, so doth an idle life on the other" (saith Crato), "it fills the body
full of phlegm, gross humours, and all manner of obstructions, rheums,
catarrhs," &c. Rhasis, _cont. lib. 1. tract. 9_, accounts of it as the
greatest cause of melancholy. [1542]"I have often seen" (saith he) "that
idleness begets this humour more than anything else." Montaltus, _c. 1_,
seconds him out of his experience, [1543]"They that are idle are far more
subject to melancholy than such as are conversant or employed about any
office or business." [1544]Plutarch reckons up idleness for a sole cause of
the sickness of the soul: "There are they" (saith he) "troubled in mind,
that have no other cause but this." Homer, _Iliad. 1_, brings in Achilles
eating of his own heart in his idleness, because he might not fight.
Mercurialis, _consil. 86_, for a melancholy young man urgeth, [1545]it as a
chief cause; why was he melancholy? because idle. Nothing begets it sooner,
increaseth and continueth it oftener than idleness. [1546]A disease
familiar to all idle persons, an inseparable companion to such as live at
ease, _Pingui otio desidiose agentes_, a life out of action, and have no
calling or ordinary employment to busy themselves about, that have small
occasions; and though they have, such is their laziness, dullness, they
will not compose themselves to do aught; they cannot abide work, though it
be necessary; easy as to dress themselves, write a letter, or the like; yet
as he that is benumbed with cold sits still shaking, that might relieve
himself with a little exercise or stirring, do they complain, but will not
use the facile and ready means to do themselves good; and so are still
tormented with melancholy. Especially if they have been formerly brought up
to business, or to keep much company, and upon a sudden come to lead a
sedentary life; it crucifies their souls, and seizeth on them in an
instant; for whilst they are any ways employed, in action, discourse, about
any business, sport or recreation, or in company to their liking, they are
very well; but if alone or idle, tormented instantly again; one day's
solitariness, one hour's sometimes, doth them more harm, than a week's
physic, labour, and company can do good. Melancholy seizeth on them
forthwith being alone, and is such a torture, that as wise Seneca well
saith, _Malo mihi male quam molliter esse_, I had rather be sick than idle.
This idleness is either of body or mind. That of body is nothing but a kind
of benumbing laziness, intermitting exercise, which, if we may believe
[1547]Fernelius, "causeth crudities, obstructions, excremental humours,
quencheth the natural heat, dulls the spirits, and makes them unapt to do
any thing whatsoever."

[1548] "Neglectis urenda filix innascitur agris."

        ------"for, a neglected field
        Shall for the fire its thorns and thistles yield."

As fern grows in untilled grounds, and all manner of weeds, so do gross
humours in an idle body, _Ignavum corrumpunt otia corpus_. A horse in a
stable that never travels, a hawk in a mew that seldom flies, are both
subject to diseases; which left unto themselves, are most free from any
such encumbrances. An idle dog will be mangy, and how shall an idle person
think to escape? Idleness of the mind is much worse than this of the body;
wit without employment is a disease [1549]_Aerugo animi, rubigo ingenii_:
the rust of the soul, [1550]a plague, a hell itself, _Maximum animi
nocumentum_, Galen, calls it. [1551]"As in a standing pool, worms and
filthy creepers increase, (_et vitium capiunt ni moveantur aquae_, the
water itself putrefies, and air likewise, if it be not continually stirred
by the wind) so do evil and corrupt thoughts in an idle person," the soul
is contaminated. In a commonwealth, where is no public enemy, there is
likely civil wars, and they rage upon themselves: this body of ours, when
it is idle, and knows not how to bestow itself, macerates and vexeth itself
with cares, griefs, false fears, discontents, and suspicions; it tortures
and preys upon his own bowels, and is never at rest. Thus much I dare
boldly say; he or she that is idle, be they of what condition they will,
never so rich, so well allied, fortunate, happy, let them have all things
in abundance and felicity that heart can wish and desire, all contentment,
so long as he or she or they are idle, they shall never be pleased, never
well in body and mind, but weary still, sickly still, vexed still, loathing
still, weeping, sighing, grieving, suspecting, offended with the world,
with every object, wishing themselves gone or dead, or else earned away
with some foolish phantasy or other. And this is the true cause that so
many great men, ladies, and gentlewomen, labour of this disease in country
and city; for idleness is an appendix to nobility; they count it a disgrace
to work, and spend all their days in sports, recreations, and pastimes, and
will therefore take no pains; be of no vocation: they feed liberally, fare
well, want exercise, action, employment, (for to work, I say, they may not
abide,) and Company to their desires, and thence their bodies become full
of gross humours, wind, crudities; their minds disquieted, dull, heavy, &c.
care, jealousy, fear of some diseases, sullen fits, weeping fits seize too
[1552]familiarly on them. For what will not fear and phantasy work in an
idle body? what distempers will they not cause? when the children of [1553]
Israel murmured against Pharaoh in Egypt, he commanded his officers to
double their task, and let them get straw themselves, and yet make their
full number of bricks; for the sole cause why they mutiny, and are evil at
ease, is, "they are idle." When you shall hear and see so many discontented
persons in all places where you come, so many several grievances,
unnecessary complaints, fears, suspicions, [1554]the best means to redress
it is to set them awork, so to busy their minds; for the truth is, they are
idle. Well they may build castles in the air for a time, and sooth up
themselves with fantastical and pleasant humours, but in the end they will
prove as bitter as gall, they shall be still I say discontent, suspicious,
[1555]fearful, jealous, sad, fretting and vexing of themselves; so long as
they be idle, it is impossible to please them, _Otio qui nescit uti, plus
habet negotii quam qui negotium in negotio_, as that [1556]Agellius could
observe: He that knows not how to spend his time, hath more business, care,
grief, anguish of mind, than he that is most busy in the midst of all his
business. _Otiosus animus nescit quid volet_: An idle person (as he follows
it) knows not when he is well, what he would have, or whither he would go,
_Quum illuc ventum est, illinc lubet_, he is tired out with everything,
displeased with all, weary of his life: _Nec bene domi, nec militiae_,
neither at home nor abroad, _errat, et praeter vitam vivitur_, he wanders
and lives besides himself. In a word, What the mischievous effects of
laziness and idleness are, I do not find any where more accurately
expressed, than in these verses of Philolaches in the [1557]Comical Poet,
which for their elegancy I will in part insert.

       "Novarum aedium esse arbitror similem ego hominem,
        Quando hic natus est: Ei rei argumenta dicam.
        Aedes quando sunt ad amussim expolitae,
        Quisque laudat fabrum, atque exemplum expetit, &c.
        At ubi illo migrat nequam homo indiligensque, &c.
        Tempestas venit, confringit tegulas, imbricesque,
        Putrifacit aer operam fabri, &c.
        Dicam ut homines similes esse aedium arbitremini,
        Fabri parentes fundamentum substruunt liberorum,
        Expoliunt, docent literas, nec parcunt sumptui,
        Ego autem sub fabrorum potestate frugi fui,
        Postquam autem migravi in ingenium meum,
        Perdidi operam fabrorum illico oppido,
        Venit ignavia, ea mihi tempestas fuit,
        Adventuque suo grandinem et imbrem attulit,
        Illa mihi virtutem deturbavit," &c.

A young man is like a fair new house, the carpenter leaves it well built,
in good repair, of solid stuff; but a bad tenant lets it rain in, and for
want of reparation, fall to decay, &c. Our parents, tutors, friends, spare
no cost to bring us up in our youth, in all manner of virtuous education;
but when we are left to ourselves, idleness as a tempest drives all
virtuous motions out of our minds, et _nihili sumus_, on a sudden, by sloth
and such bad ways, we come to nought.

Cousin german to idleness, and a concomitant cause, which goes hand in hand
with it, is [1558]_nimia solitudo_, too much solitariness, by the testimony
of all physicians, cause and symptom both; but as it is here put for a
cause, it is either coact, enforced, or else voluntary. Enforced
solitariness is commonly seen in students, monks, friars, anchorites, that
by their order and course of life must abandon all company, society of
other men, and betake themselves to a private cell: _Otio superstitioso
seclusi_, as Bale and Hospinian well term it, such as are the Carthusians
of our time, that eat no flesh (by their order), keep perpetual silence,
never go abroad. Such as live in prison, or some desert place, and cannot
have company, as many of our country gentlemen do in solitary houses, they
must either be alone without companions, or live beyond their means, and
entertain all comers as so many hosts, or else converse with their servants
and hinds, such as are unequal, inferior to them, and of a contrary
disposition: or else as some do, to avoid solitariness, spend their time
with lewd fellows in taverns, and in alehouses, and thence addict
themselves to some unlawful disports, or dissolute courses. Divers again
are cast upon this rock of solitariness for want of means, or out of a
strong apprehension of some infirmity, disgrace, or through bashfulness,
rudeness, simplicity, they cannot apply themselves to others' company.
_Nullum solum infelici gratius solitudine, ubi nullus sit qui miseriam
exprobret_; this enforced solitariness takes place, and produceth his
effect soonest in such as have spent their time jovially, peradventure in
all honest recreations, in good company, in some great family or populous
city, and are upon a sudden confined to a desert country cottage far off,
restrained of their liberty, and barred from their ordinary associates;
solitariness is very irksome to such, most tedious, and a sudden cause of
great inconvenience.

Voluntary solitariness is that which is familiar with melancholy, and
gently brings on like a Siren, a shoeing-horn, or some sphinx to this
irrevocable gulf, [1559]a primary cause, Piso calls it; most pleasant it is
at first, to such as are melancholy given, to lie in bed whole days, and
keep their chambers, to walk alone in some solitary grove, betwixt wood and
water, by a brook side, to meditate upon some delightsome and pleasant
subject, which shall affect them most; _amabilis insania, et mentis
gratissimus error_: a most incomparable delight it is so to melancholise,
and build castles in the air, to go smiling to themselves, acting an
infinite variety of parts, which they suppose and strongly imagine they
represent, or that they see acted or done: _Blandae quidem ab initio_,
saith Lemnius, to conceive and meditate of such pleasant things, sometimes,
[1560]"present, past, or to come," as Rhasis speaks. So delightsome these
toys are at first, they could spend whole days and nights without sleep,
even whole years alone in such contemplations, and fantastical meditations,
which are like unto dreams, and they will hardly be drawn from them, or
willingly interrupt, so pleasant their vain conceits are, that they hinder
their ordinary tasks and necessary business, they cannot address themselves
to them, or almost to any study or employment, these fantastical and
bewitching thoughts so covertly, so feelingly, so urgently, so continually
set upon, creep in, insinuate, possess, overcome, distract, and detain
them, they cannot, I say, go about their more necessary business, stave off
or extricate themselves, but are ever musing, melancholising, and carried
along, as he (they say) that is led round about a heath with a Puck in the
night, they run earnestly on in this labyrinth of anxious and solicitous
melancholy meditations, and cannot well or willingly refrain, or easily
leave off, winding and unwinding themselves, as so many clocks, and still
pleasing their humours, until at last the scene is turned upon a sudden, by
some bad object, and they being now habituated to such vain meditations and
solitary places, can endure no company, can ruminate of nothing but harsh
and distasteful subjects. Fear, sorrow, suspicion, _subrusticus pudor_,
discontent, cares, and weariness of life surprise them in a moment, and
they can think of nothing else, continually suspecting, no sooner are their
eyes open, but this infernal plague of melancholy seizeth on them, and
terrifies their souls, representing some dismal object to their minds,
which now by no means, no labour, no persuasions they can avoid, _haeret
lateri lethalis arundo_, (the arrow of death still remains in the side),
they may not be rid of it, [1561]they cannot resist. I may not deny but
that there is some profitable meditation, contemplation, and kind of
solitariness to be embraced, which the fathers so highly commended, [1562]
Hierom, Chrysostom, Cyprian, Austin, in whole tracts, which Petrarch,
Erasmus, Stella, and others, so much magnify in their books; a paradise, a
heaven on earth, if it be used aright, good for the body, and better for
the soul: as many of those old monks used it, to divine contemplations, as
Simulus, a courtier in Adrian's time, Diocletian the emperor, retired
themselves, &c., in that sense, _Vatia solus scit vivere_, Vatia lives
alone, which the Romans were wont to say, when they commended a country
life. Or to the bettering of their knowledge, as Democritus, Cleanthes, and
those excellent philosophers have ever done, to sequester themselves from
the tumultuous world, or as in Pliny's villa Laurentana, Tully's Tusculan,
Jovius' study, that they might better _vacare studiis et Deo_, serve God,
and follow their studies. Methinks, therefore, our too zealous innovators
were not so well advised in that general subversion of abbeys and religious
houses, promiscuously to fling down all; they might have taken away those
gross abuses crept in amongst them, rectified such inconveniences, and not
so far to have raved and raged against those fair buildings, and
everlasting monuments of our forefathers' devotion, consecrated to pious
uses; some monasteries and collegiate cells might have been well spared,
and their revenues otherwise employed, here and there one, in good towns or
cities at least, for men and women of all sorts and conditions to live in,
to sequester themselves from the cares and tumults of the world, that were
not desirous, or fit to marry; or otherwise willing to be troubled with
common affairs, and know not well where to bestow themselves, to live apart
in, for more conveniency, good education, better company sake, to follow
their studies (I say), to the perfection of arts and sciences, common good,
and as some truly devoted monks of old had done, freely and truly to serve
God. For these men are neither solitary, nor idle, as the poet made answer
to the husbandman in Aesop, that objected idleness to him; he was never so
idle as in his company; or that Scipio Africanus in [1563]Tully, _Nunquam
minus solus, quam cum solus; nunquam minus otiosus, quam quum esset
otiosus_; never less solitary, than when he was alone, never more busy,
than when he seemed to be most idle. It is reported by Plato in his
dialogue _de Amore_, in that prodigious commendation of Socrates, how a
deep meditation coming into Socrates' mind by chance, he stood still
musing, _eodem vestigio cogitabundus_, from morning to noon, and when as
then he had not yet finished his meditation, _perstabat cogitans_, he so
continued till the evening, the soldiers (for he then followed the camp)
observed him with admiration, and on set purpose watched all night, but he
persevered immovable _ad exhortim solis_, till the sun rose in the morning,
and then saluting the sun, went his ways. In what humour constant Socrates
did thus, I know not, or how he might be affected, but this would be
pernicious to another man; what intricate business might so really possess
him, I cannot easily guess; but this is _otiosum otium_, it is far
otherwise with these men, according to Seneca, _Omnia nobis mala solitudo
persuadet_; this solitude undoeth us, _pugnat cum vita sociali_; 'tis a
destructive solitariness. These men are devils alone, as the saying is,
_Homo solus aut Deus, aut Daemon_: a man alone, is either a saint or a
devil, _mens ejus aut languescit, aut tumescit_; and [1564]_Vae soli_ in
this sense, woe be to him that is so alone. These wretches do frequently
degenerate from men, and of sociable creatures become beasts, monsters,
inhumane, ugly to behold, _Misanthropi_; they do even loathe themselves,
and hate the company of men, as so many Timons, Nebuchadnezzars, by too
much indulging to these pleasing humours, and through their own default. So
that which Mercurialis, _consil. 11_, sometimes expostulated with his
melancholy patient, may be justly applied to every solitary and idle person
in particular. [1565]_Natura de te videtur conqueri posse_, &c. "Nature may
justly complain of thee, that whereas she gave thee a good wholesome
temperature, a sound body, and God hath given thee so divine and excellent
a soul, so many good parts, and profitable gifts, thou hast not only
contemned and rejected, but hast corrupted them, polluted them, overthrown
their temperature, and perverted those gifts with riot, idleness,
solitariness, and many other ways, thou art a traitor to God and nature, an
enemy to thyself and to the world." _Perditio tua ex te_; thou hast lost
thyself wilfully, cast away thyself, "thou thyself art the efficient cause
of thine own misery, by not resisting such vain cogitations, but giving way
unto them."

SUBSECT. VII.--_Sleeping and Waking, Causes_.

What I have formerly said of exercise, I may now repeat of sleep. Nothing
better than moderate sleep, nothing worse than it, if it be in extremes, or
unseasonably used. It is a received opinion, that a melancholy man cannot
sleep overmuch; _Somnus supra modum prodest_, as an only antidote, and
nothing offends them more, or causeth this malady sooner, than waking, yet
in some cases sleep may do more harm than good, in that phlegmatic,
swinish, cold, and sluggish melancholy which Melancthon speaks of, that
thinks of waters, sighing most part, &c. [1566]It dulls the spirits, if
overmuch, and senses; fills the head full of gross humours; causeth
distillations, rheums, great store of excrements in the brain, and all the
other parts, as [1567]Fuchsius speaks of them, that sleep like so many
dormice. Or if it be used in the daytime, upon a full stomach, the body
ill-composed to rest, or after hard meats, it increaseth fearful dreams,
incubus, night walking, crying out, and much unquietness; such sleep
prepares the body, as [1568]one observes, "to many perilous diseases." But,
as I have said, waking overmuch, is both a symptom, and an ordinary cause.
"It causeth dryness of the brain, frenzy, dotage, and makes the body dry,
lean, hard, and ugly to behold," as [1569]Lemnius hath it. "The temperature
of the brain is corrupted by it, the humours adust, the eyes made to sink
into the head, choler increased, and the whole body inflamed:" and, as may
be added out of Galen, _3. de sanitate tuendo_, Avicenna _3. 1._ [1570]"It
overthrows the natural heat, it causeth crudities, hurts, concoction," and
what not? Not without good cause therefore Crato, _consil. 21. lib. 2_;
Hildesheim, _spicel. 2. de delir. et Mania_, Jacchinus, Arculanus on
Rhasis, Guianerius and Mercurialis, reckon up this overmuch waking as a
principal cause.


SUBSECT. I.--_Passions and Perturbations of the Mind, how they cause

As that gymnosophist in [1571]Plutarch made answer to Alexander (demanding
which spake best), Every one of his fellows did speak better than the
other: so may I say of these causes; to him that shall require which is the
greatest, every one is more grievous than other, and this of passion the
greatest of all. A most frequent and ordinary cause of melancholy, [1572]
_fulmen perturbationum_ (Picolomineus calls it) this thunder and lightning
of perturbation, which causeth such violent and speedy alterations in this
our microcosm, and many times subverts the good estate and temperature of
it. For as the body works upon the mind by his bad humours, troubling the
spirits, sending gross fumes into the brain, and so _per consequens_
disturbing the soul, and all the faculties of it,

[1573]  ------"Corpus onustum,
        Hesternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una,"

with fear, sorrow, &c., which are ordinary symptoms of this disease: so on
the other side, the mind most effectually works upon the body, producing by
his passions and perturbations miraculous alterations, as melancholy,
despair, cruel diseases, and sometimes death itself. Insomuch that it is
most true which Plato saith in his Charmides, _omnia corporis mala ab anima
procedere_; all the [1574]mischiefs of the body proceed from the soul: and
Democritus in [1575]Plutarch urgeth, _Damnatam iri animam a corpore_, if
the body should in this behalf bring an action against the soul, surely the
soul would be cast and convicted, that by her supine negligence had caused
such inconveniences, having authority over the body, and using it for an
instrument, as a smith doth his hammer (saith [1576]Cyprian), imputing all
those vices and maladies to the mind. Even so doth [1577]Philostratus, _non
coinquinatur corpus, nisi consensuanimae_; the body is not corrupted, but
by the soul. Lodovicus Vives will have such turbulent commotions proceed
from ignorance and indiscretion. [1578]All philosophers impute the miseries
of the body to the soul, that should have governed it better, by command of
reason, and hath not done it. The Stoics are altogether of opinion (as
[1579]Lipsius and [1580]Picolomineus record), that a wise man should be
[Greek: apathaes], without all manner of passions and perturbations
whatsoever, as [1581]Seneca reports of Cato, the [1582] Greeks of Socrates,
and [1583]Io. Aubanus of a nation in Africa, so free from passion, or
rather so stupid, that if they be wounded with a sword, they will only look
back. [1584]Lactantius, _2 instit._, will exclude "fear from a wise man:"
others except all, some the greatest passions. But let them dispute how
they will, set down in Thesi, give precepts to the contrary; we find that
of [1585]Lemnius true by common experience; "No mortal man is free from
these perturbations: or if he be so, sure he is either a god, or a block."
They are born and bred with us, we have them from our parents by
inheritance. _A parentibus habemus malum hunc assem_, saith [1586]Pelezius,
_Nascitur una nobiscum, aliturque_, 'tis propagated from Adam, Cain was
melancholy, [1587]as Austin hath it, and who is not? Good discipline,
education, philosophy, divinity (I cannot deny), may mitigate and restrain
these passions in some few men at some times, but most part they domineer,
and are so violent, [1588]that as a torrent (_torrens velut aggere rupto_)
bears down all before, and overflows his banks, _sternit agros, sternit
sata_, (lays waste the fields, prostrates the crops,) they overwhelm
reason, judgment, and pervert the temperature of the body; _Fertur [1589]
equis auriga, nec audit currus habenas_. Now such a man (saith
[1590]Austin) "that is so led, in a wise man's eye, is no better than he
that stands upon his head." It is doubted by some, _Gravioresne morbi a
perturbationibus, an ab humoribus_, whether humours or perturbations cause
the more grievous maladies. But we find that of our Saviour, Mat. xxvi. 41,
most true, "The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak," we cannot resist;
and this of [1591]Philo Judeus, "Perturbations often offend the body, and
are most frequent causes of melancholy, turning it out of the hinges of his
health." Vives compares them to [1592]"Winds upon the sea, some only move
as those great gales, but others turbulent quite overturn the ship." Those
which are light, easy, and more seldom, to our thinking, do us little harm,
and are therefore contemned of us: yet if they be reiterated, [1593]"as the
rain" (saith Austin) "doth a stone, so do these perturbations penetrate the
mind:" [1594]and (as one observes) "produce a habit of melancholy at the
last," which having gotten the mastery in our souls, may well be called

How these passions produce this effect, [1595]Agrippa hath handled at
large, _Occult. Philos. l. 11. c. 63._ Cardan, _l. 14. subtil._ Lemnius,
_l. 1. c. 12, de occult. nat. mir. et lib. 1. cap. 16._ Suarez, _Met.
disput. 18. sect. 1. art. 25._ T. Bright, _cap. 12._ of his Melancholy
Treatise. Wright the Jesuit, in his Book of the Passions of the Mind, &c.
Thus in brief, to our imagination cometh by the outward sense or memory,
some object to be known (residing in the foremost part of the brain), which
he misconceiving or amplifying presently communicates to the heart, the
seat of all affections. The pure spirits forthwith flock from the brain to
the heart, by certain secret channels, and signify what good or bad object
was presented; [1596]which immediately bends itself to prosecute, or avoid
it; and withal, draweth with it other humours to help it: so in pleasure,
concur great store of purer spirits; in sadness, much melancholy blood; in
ire, choler. If the imagination be very apprehensive, intent, and violent,
it sends great store of spirits to, or from the heart, and makes a deeper
impression, and greater tumult, as the humours in the body be likewise
prepared, and the temperature itself ill or well disposed, the passions are
longer and stronger; so that the first step and fountain of all our
grievances in this kind, is [1597]_laesa imaginatio_, which misinforming
the heart, causeth all these distemperatures, alteration and confusion of
spirits and humours. By means of which, so disturbed, concoction is
hindered, and the principal parts are much debilitated; as [1598]Dr.
Navarra well declared, being consulted by Montanus about a melancholy Jew.
The spirits so confounded, the nourishment must needs be abated, bad
humours increased, crudities and thick spirits engendered with melancholy
blood. The other parts cannot perform their functions, having the spirits
drawn from them by vehement passion, but fail in sense and motion; so we
look upon a thing, and see it not; hear, and 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 in Bede and Gregory, Saint Bridget's revelations, Wier. _l. 3.
de lamiis, c. 11._ Caesar Vanninus, in his Dialogues, &c. reduceth (as I
have formerly said), with all those tales of witches' progresses, dancing,
riding, transformations, operations, &c. to the force of [1604]
imagination, and the [1605]devil's illusions. The like effects almost are
to be seen in such as are awake: how many chimeras, antics, golden
mountains and castles in the air do they build unto themselves? I appeal to
painters, mechanicians, mathematicians. Some ascribe all vices to a false
and corrupt imagination, anger, revenge, lust, ambition, covetousness,
which prefers falsehood before that which is right and good, deluding the
soul with false shows and suppositions. [1606]Bernardus Penottus will have
heresy and superstition to proceed from this fountain; as he falsely
imagineth, so he believeth; and as he conceiveth of it, so it must be, and
it shall be, _contra gentes_, he will have it so. But most especially in
passions and affections, it shows strange and evident effects: what will
not a fearful man conceive in the dark? What strange forms of bugbears,
devils, witches, goblins? Lavater imputes the greatest cause of spectrums,
and the like apparitions, to fear, which above all other passions begets
the strongest imagination (saith [1607]Wierus), and so likewise love,
sorrow, joy, &c. Some die suddenly, as she that saw her son come from the
battle at Cannae, &c. Jacob the patriarch, by force of imagination, made
speckled lambs, laying speckled rods before his sheep. Persina, that
Ethiopian queen in Heliodorus, by seeing the picture of Persius and
Andromeda, instead of a blackamoor, was brought to bed of a fair white
child. In imitation of whom belike, a hard-favoured fellow in Greece,
because he and his wife were both deformed, to get a good brood of
children, _Elegantissimas imagines in thalamo collocavit_, &c. hung the
fairest pictures he could buy for money in his chamber, "That his wife by
frequent sight of them, might conceive and bear such children." And if we
may believe Bale, one of Pope Nicholas the Third's concubines by seeing of
[1608]a bear was brought to bed of a monster. "If a woman" (saith [1609]
Lemnius), "at the time of her conception think of another man present or
absent, the child will be like him." Great-bellied women, when they long,
yield us prodigious examples in this kind, as moles, warts, scars,
harelips, monsters, especially caused in their children by force of a
depraved phantasy in them: _Ipsam speciem quam animo effigiat, faetui
inducit_: She imprints that stamp upon her child which she [1610]conceives
unto herself. And therefore Lodovicus Vives, _lib. 2. de Christ, faem._,
gives a special caution to great-bellied women, [1611]"that they do not
admit such absurd conceits and cogitations, but by all means avoid those
horrible objects, heard or seen, or filthy spectacles." Some will laugh,
weep, sigh, groan, blush, tremble, sweat, at such things as are suggested
unto them by their imagination. Avicenna speaks of one that could cast
himself into a palsy when he list; and some can imitate the tunes of birds
and beasts that they can hardly be discerned: Dagebertus' and Saint
Francis' scars and wounds, like those of Christ's (if at the least any such
were), [1612]Agrippa supposeth to have happened by force of imagination:
that some are turned to wolves, from men to women, and women again to men
(which is constantly believed) to the same imagination; or from men to
asses, dogs, or any other shapes. [1613]Wierus ascribes all those famous
transformations to imagination; that in hydrophobia they seem to see the
picture of a dog, still in their water, [1614]that melancholy men and sick
men conceive so many fantastical visions, apparitions to themselves, and
have such absurd apparitions, as that they are kings, lords, cocks, bears,
apes, owls; that they are heavy, light, transparent, great and little,
senseless and dead (as shall be showed more at large, in our [1615]
sections of symptoms), can be imputed to nought else, but to a corrupt,
false, and violent imagination. It works not in sick and melancholy men
only, but even most forcibly sometimes in such as are sound: it makes them
suddenly sick, and [1616]alters their temperature in an instant. And
sometimes a strong conceit or apprehension, as [1617]Valesius proves, will
take away diseases: in both kinds it will produce real effects. Men, if
they see but another man tremble, giddy or sick of some fearful disease,
their apprehension and fear is so strong in this kind, that they will have
the same disease. Or if by some soothsayer, wiseman, fortune-teller, or
physician, they be told they shall have such a disease, they will so
seriously apprehend it, that they will instantly labour of it. A thing
familiar in China (saith Riccius the Jesuit), [1618]"If it be told them
they shall be sick on such a day, when that day comes they will surely be
sick, and will be so terribly afflicted, that sometimes they die upon it."
Dr. Cotta in his discovery of ignorant practitioners of physic, _cap. 8_,
hath two strange stories to this purpose, what fancy is able to do. The one
of a parson's wife in Northamptonshire, _An._ 1607, that coming to a
physician, and told by him that she was troubled with the sciatica, as he
conjectured (a disease she was free from), the same night after her return,
upon his words, fell into a grievous fit of a sciatica: and such another
example he hath of another good wife, that was so troubled with the cramp,
after the same manner she came by it, because her physician did but name
it. Sometimes death itself is caused by force of phantasy. I have heard of
one that coming by chance in company of him that was thought to be sick of
the plague (which was not so) fell down suddenly dead. Another was sick of
the plague with conceit. One seeing his fellow let blood falls down in a
swoon. Another (saith [1619]Cardan out of Aristotle), fell down dead (which
is familiar to women at any ghastly sight), seeing but a man hanged. A Jew
in France (saith [1620]Lodovicus Vives), came by chance over a dangerous
passage or plank, that lay over a brook in the dark, without harm, the next
day perceiving what danger he was in, fell down dead. Many will not believe
such stories to be true, but laugh commonly, and deride when they hear of
them; but let these men consider with themselves, as [1621]Peter Byarus
illustrates it, If they were set to walk upon a plank on high, they would
be giddy, upon which they dare securely walk upon the ground. Many (saith
Agrippa), [1622]"strong-hearted men otherwise, tremble at such sights,
dazzle, and are sick, if they look but down from a high place, and what
moves them but conceit?" As some are so molested by phantasy; so some
again, by fancy alone, and a good conceit, are as easily recovered. We see
commonly the toothache, gout, falling-sickness, biting of a mad dog, and
many such maladies cured by spells, words, characters, and charms, and many
green wounds by that now so much used _Unguentum Armarium_, magnetically
cured, which Crollius and Goclenius in a book of late hath defended,
Libavius in a just tract as stiffly contradicts, and most men controvert.
All the world knows there is no virtue in such charms or cures, but a
strong conceit and opinion alone, as [1623]Pomponatius holds, "which
forceth a motion of the humours, spirits, and blood, which takes away the
cause of the malady from the parts affected." The like we may say of our
magical effects, superstitious cures, and such as are done by mountebanks
and wizards. "As by wicked incredulity many men are hurt" (so saith
[1624]Wierus of charms, spells, &c.), "we find in our experience, by the
same means many are relieved." An empiric oftentimes, and a silly
chirurgeon, doth more strange cures than a rational physician. Nymannus
gives a reason, because the patient puts his confidence in him, [1625]
which Avicenna "prefers before art, precepts, and all remedies whatsoever."
'Tis opinion alone (saith [1626]Cardan), that makes or mars physicians, and
he doth the best cures, according to Hippocrates, in whom most trust. So
diversely doth this phantasy of ours affect, turn, and wind, so imperiously
command our bodies, which as another [1627]"Proteus, or a chameleon, can
take all shapes; and is of such force (as Ficinus adds), that it can work
upon others, as well as ourselves." How can otherwise blear eyes in one man
cause the like affection in another? Why doth one man's yawning [1628]make
another yawn? One man's pissing provoke a second many times to do the like?
Why doth scraping of trenchers offend a third, or hacking of files? Why
doth a carcass bleed when the murderer is brought before it, some weeks
after the murder hath been done? Why do witches and old women fascinate and
bewitch children: but as Wierus, Paracelsus, Cardan, Mizaldus, Valleriola,
Caesar Vanninus, Campanella, and many philosophers think, the forcible
imagination of the one party moves and alters the spirits of the other. Nay
more, they can cause and cure not only diseases, maladies, and several
infirmities, by this means, as Avicenna, _de anim. l. 4. sect. 4_,
supposeth in parties remote, but move bodies from their places, cause
thunder, lightning, tempests, which opinion Alkindus, Paracelsus, and some
others, approve of. So that I may certainly conclude this strong conceit or
imagination is _astrum hominis_, and the rudder of this our ship, which
reason should steer, but, overborne by phantasy, cannot manage, and so
suffers itself, and this whole vessel of ours to be overruled, and often
overturned. Read more of this in Wierus, _l. 3. de Lamiis, c. 8, 9, 10._
Franciscus Valesius, _med. controv. l. 5. cont. 6._ Marcellus Donatus, _l.
2. c. 1. de hist. med. mirabil_. Levinus Lemnius, _de occult. nat. mir. l.
1. c. 12._ Cardan, _l. 18. de rerum var_. Corn. Agrippa, _de occult.
plilos. cap. 64, 65._ Camerarius, _1 cent. cap. 54. horarum subcis_.
Nymannus, _morat. de Imag_. Laurentius, and him that is _instar omnium_,
Fienus, a famous physician of Antwerp, that wrote three books _de viribus
imaginationis_. I have thus far digressed, because this imagination is the
medium deferens of passions, by whose means they work and produce many
times prodigious effects: and as the phantasy is more or less intended or
remitted, and their humours disposed, so do perturbations move, more or
less, and take deeper impression.

SUBSECT. III.--_Division of Perturbations_.

Perturbations and passions, which trouble the phantasy, though they dwell
between the confines of sense and reason, yet they rather follow sense than
reason, because they are drowned in corporeal organs of sense. They are
commonly [1629]reduced into two inclinations, irascible and concupiscible.
The Thomists subdivide them into eleven, six in the coveting, and five in
the invading. Aristotle reduceth all to pleasure and pain, Plato to love
and hatred, [1630]Vives to good and bad. If good, it is present, and then
we absolutely joy and love; or to come, and then we desire and hope for it.
If evil, we absolute hate it; if present, it is by sorrow; if to come fear.
These four passions [1631]Bernard compares "to the wheels of a chariot, by
which we are carried in this world." All other passions are subordinate
unto these four, or six, as some will: love, joy, desire, hatred, sorrow,
fear; the rest, as anger, envy, emulation, pride, jealousy, anxiety, mercy,
shame, discontent, despair, ambition, avarice, &c., are reducible unto the
first; and if they be immoderate, they [1632]consume the spirits, and
melancholy is especially caused by them. Some few discreet men there are,
that can govern themselves, and curb in these inordinate affections, by
religion, philosophy, and such divine precepts, of meekness, patience, and
the like; but most part for want of government, out of indiscretion,
ignorance, they suffer themselves wholly to be led by sense, and are so far
from repressing rebellious inclinations, that they give all encouragement
unto them, leaving the reins, and using all provocations to further them:
bad by nature, worse by art, discipline, [1633]custom, education, and a
perverse will of their own, they follow on, wheresoever their unbridled
affections will transport them, and do more out of custom, self-will, than
out of reason. _Contumax voluntas_, as Melancthon calls it, _malum facit_:
this stubborn will of ours perverts judgment, which sees and knows what
should and ought to be done, and yet will not do it. _Mancipia gulae_,
slaves to their several lusts and appetite, they precipitate and plunge
[1634]themselves into a labyrinth of cares, blinded with lust, blinded with
ambition; [1635]"They seek that at God's hands which they may give unto
themselves, if they could but refrain from those cares and perturbations,
wherewith they continually macerate their minds." But giving way to these
violent passions of fear, grief, shame, revenge, hatred, malice, &c., they
are torn in pieces, as Actaeon was with his dogs, and [1636]crucify their
own souls.

SUBSECT. IV.--_Sorrow a Cause of Melancholy_.

_Sorrow. Insanus dolor_.] In this catalogue of passions, which so much
torment the soul of man, and cause this malady, (for I will briefly speak
of them all, and in their order,) the first place in this irascible
appetite, may justly be challenged by sorrow. An inseparable companion,
[1637]"The mother and daughter of melancholy, her epitome, symptom, and
chief cause:" as Hippocrates hath it, they beget one another, and tread in
a ring, for sorrow is both cause and symptom of this disease. How it is a
symptom shall be shown in its place. That it is a cause all the world
acknowledgeth, _Dolor nonnullis insaniae causa fuit, et aliorum morborum
insanabilium_, saith Plutarch to Apollonius; a cause of madness, a cause of
many other diseases, a sole cause of this mischief, [1638]Lemnius calls it.
So doth Rhasis, _cont. l. 1. tract. 9._ Guianerius, _Tract. 15. c. 5_, And
if it take root once, it ends in despair, as [1639]Felix Plater observes,
and as in [1640]Cebes' table, may well be coupled with it.
[1641]Chrysostom, in his seventeenth epistle to Olympia, describes it to be
"a cruel torture of the soul, a most inexplicable grief, poisoned worm,
consuming body and soul, and gnawing the very heart, a perpetual
executioner, continual night, profound darkness, a whirlwind, a tempest, an
ague not appearing, heating worse than any fire, and a battle that hath no
end. It crucifies worse than any tyrant; no torture, no strappado, no
bodily punishment is like unto it." 'Tis the eagle without question which
the poets feigned to gnaw [1642]Prometheus' heart, and "no heaviness is
like unto the heaviness of the heart," Eccles. xxv. 15, 16. [1643]"Every
perturbation is a misery, but grief a cruel torment," a domineering
passion: as in old Rome, when the Dictator was created, all inferior
magistracies ceased; when grief appears, all other passions vanish. "It
dries up the bones," saith Solomon, cap. 17. Prov., makes them hollow-eyed,
pale, and lean, furrow-faced, to have dead looks, wrinkled brows,
shrivelled cheeks, dry bodies, and quite perverts their temperature that
are misaffected with it. As Eleonara, that exiled mournful duchess (in our
[1644]English Ovid), laments to her noble husband Humphrey, Duke of

       "Sawest thou those eyes in whose sweet cheerful look
        Duke Humphrey once such joy and pleasure took,
        Sorrow hath so despoil'd me of all grace,
        Thou couldst not say this was my Elnor's face.
        Like a foul Gorgon," &c.

[1645]"It hinders concoction, refrigerates the heart, takes away stomach,
colour, and sleep, thickens the blood," ([1646]Fernelius, _l. 1. c. 18. de
morb. causis_,) "contaminates the spirits." ([1647]Piso.) Overthrows the
natural heat, perverts the good estate of body and mind, and makes them
weary of their lives, cry out, howl and roar for very anguish of their
souls. David confessed as much, Psalm xxxviii. 8, "I have roared for the
very disquietness of my heart." And Psalm cxix. 4, part 4 v. "My soul
melteth away for very heaviness," v. 38. "I am like a bottle in the smoke."
Antiochus complained that he could not sleep, and that his heart fainted
for grief, [1648]Christ himself, _vir dolorum_, out of an apprehension of
grief, did sweat blood, Mark xiv. "His soul was heavy to the death, and no
sorrow was like unto his." Crato, _consil. 24. l. 2_, gives instance in one
that was so melancholy by reason of [1649]grief; and Montanus, _consil.
30_, in a noble matron, [1650]"that had no other cause of this mischief."
I. S. D. in Hildesheim, fully cured a patient of his that was much troubled
with melancholy, and for many years, [1651]"but afterwards, by a little
occasion of sorrow, he fell into his former fits, and was tormented as
before." Examples are common, how it causeth melancholy, [1652]desperation,
and sometimes death itself; for (Eccles. xxxviii. 15,) "Of heaviness comes
death; worldly sorrow causeth death." 2 Cor. vii. 10, Psalm xxxi. 10, "My
life is wasted with heaviness, and my years with mourning." Why was Hecuba
said to be turned to a dog? Niobe into a stone? but that for grief she was
senseless and stupid. Severus the Emperor [1653] died for grief; and how
[1654]many myriads besides? _Tanta illi est feritas, tanta est insania
luctus_. [1655]Melancthon gives a reason of it, [1656]"the gathering of
much melancholy blood about the heart, which collection extinguisheth the
good spirits, or at least dulleth them, sorrow strikes the heart, makes it
tremble and pine away, with great pain; and the black blood drawn from the
spleen, and diffused under the ribs, on the left side, makes those perilous
hypochondriacal convulsions, which happen to them that are troubled with

SUBSECT. V.--_Fear, a Cause_.

Cousin german to sorrow, is fear, or rather a sister, _fidus Achates_, and
continual companion, an assistant and a principal agent in procuring of
this mischief; a cause and symptom as the other. In a word, as [1657]
Virgil of the Harpies, I may justly say of them both,

       "Tristius haud illis monstrum, nec saevior ulla
        Pestis et ira Deum stygiis sese extulit undis."

       "A sadder monster, or more cruel plague so fell,
        Or vengeance of the gods, ne'er came from Styx or Hell."

This foul fiend of fear was worshipped heretofore as a god by the
Lacedaemonians, and most of those other torturing [1658]affections, and so
was sorrow amongst the rest, under the name of Angerona Dea, they stood in
such awe of them, as Austin, _de Civitat. Dei, lib. 4. cap. 8_, noteth out
of Varro, fear was commonly [1659]adored and painted in their temples with
a lion's head; and as Macrobius records, _l. 10. Saturnalium_; [1660]"In
the calends of January, Angerona had her holy day, to whom in the temple of
Volupia, or goddess of pleasure, their augurs and bishops did yearly
sacrifice; that, being propitious to them, she might expel all cares,
anguish, and vexation of the mind for that year following." Many lamentable
effects this fear causeth in men, as to be red, pale, tremble, sweat,
[1661]it makes sudden cold and heat to come over all the body, palpitation
of the heart, syncope, &c. It amazeth many men that are to speak, or show
themselves in public assemblies, or before some great personages, as Tully
confessed of himself, that he trembled still at the beginning of his
speech; and Demosthenes, that great orator of Greece, before Philippus. It
confounds voice and memory, as Lucian wittily brings in Jupiter Tragoedus,
so much afraid of his auditory, when he was to make a speech to the rest of
the Gods, that he could not utter a ready word, but was compelled to use
Mercury's help in prompting. Many men are so amazed and astonished with
fear, they know not where they are, what they say, [1662]what they do, and
that which is worst, it tortures them many days before with continual
affrights and suspicion. It hinders most honourable attempts, and makes
their hearts ache, sad and heavy. They that live in fear are never free,
[1663]resolute, secure, never merry, but in continual pain: that, as Vives
truly said, _Nulla est miseria major quam metus_, no greater misery, no
rack, nor torture like unto it, ever suspicious, anxious, solicitous, they
are childishly drooping without reason, without judgment, [1664]"especially
if some terrible object be offered," as Plutarch hath it. It causeth
oftentimes sudden madness, and almost all manner of diseases, as I have
sufficiently illustrated in my [1665] digression of the force of
imagination, and shall do more at large in my section of [1666]terrors.
Fear makes our imagination conceive what it list, invites the devil to come
to us, as [1667]Agrippa and Cardan avouch, and tyranniseth over our
phantasy more than all other affections, especially in the dark. We see
this verified in most men, as [1668]Lavater saith, _Quae metuunt, fingunt_;
what they fear they conceive, and feign unto themselves; they think they
see goblins, hags, devils, and many times become melancholy thereby.
Cardan, _subtil. lib. 18_, hath an example of such an one, so caused to be
melancholy (by sight of a bugbear) all his life after. Augustus Caesar
durst not sit in the dark, _nisi aliquo assidente_, saith [1669]Suetonius,
_Nunquam tenebris exigilavit_. And 'tis strange what women and children
will conceive unto themselves, if they go over a churchyard in the night,
lie, or be alone in a dark room, how they sweat and tremble on a sudden.
Many men are troubled with future events, foreknowledge of their fortunes,
destinies, as Severus the Emperor, Adrian and Domitian, _Quod sciret
ultimum vitae diem_, saith Suetonius, _valde solicitus_, much tortured in
mind because he foreknew his end; with many such, of which I shall speak
more opportunely in another place.[1670] Anxiety, mercy, pity, indignation,
&c., and such fearful branches derived from these two stems of fear and
sorrow, I voluntarily omit; read more of them in [1671]Carolus Pascalius,
[1672]Dandinus, &c.

SUBSECT. VI.--_Shame and Disgrace, Causes_.

Shame and disgrace cause most violent passions and bitter pangs. _Ob
pudorem et dedecus publicum, ob errorum commissum saepe moventur generosi
animi_ (Felix Plater, _lib. 3. de alienat mentis_.) Generous minds are
often moved with shame, to despair for some public disgrace. And he, saith
Philo, _lib. 2. de provid. dei_, [1673]"that subjects himself to fear,
grief, ambition, shame, is not happy, but altogether miserable, tortured
with continual labour, care, and misery." It is as forcible a batterer as
any of the rest: [1674]"Many men neglect the tumults of the world, and care
not for glory, and yet they are afraid of infamy, repulse, disgrace,"
(_Tul. offic. l. 1_,) "they can severely contemn pleasure, bear grief
indifferently, but they are quite [1675]battered and broken, with reproach
and obloquy:" (_siquidem vita et fama pari passu ambulant_) and are so
dejected many times for some public injury, disgrace, as a box on the ear
by their inferior, to be overcome of their adversary, foiled in the field,
to be out in a speech, some foul fact committed or disclosed, &c. that they
dare not come abroad all their lives after, but melancholise in corners,
and keep in holes. The most generous spirits are most subject to it;
_Spiritus altos frangit et generosos_: Hieronymus. Aristotle, because he
could not understand the motion of Euripus, for grief and shame drowned
himself: Caelius Rodigimus _antiquar. lec. lib. 29. cap. 8._ _Homerus
pudore consumptus_, was swallowed up with this passion of shame [1676]
"because he could not unfold the fisherman's riddle." Sophocles killed
himself, [1677]"for that a tragedy of his was hissed off the stage:"
_Valer. max. lib. 9. cap. 12._ Lucretia stabbed herself, and so did
[1678]Cleopatra, "when she saw that she was reserved for a triumph, to
avoid the infamy." Antonius the Roman, [1679]"after he was overcome of his
enemy, for three days' space sat solitary in the fore-part of the ship,
abstaining from all company, even of Cleopatra herself, and afterwards for
very shame butchered himself," Plutarch, _vita ejus_. Apollonius Rhodius
[1680]"wilfully banished himself, forsaking his country, and all his dear
friends, because he was out in reciting his poems," Plinius, _lib. 7. cap.
23._ Ajax ran mad, because his arms were adjudged to Ulysses. In China 'tis
an ordinary thing for such as are excluded in those famous trials of
theirs, or should take degrees, for shame and grief to lose their wits,
[1681]Mat Riccius _expedit. ad Sinas, l. 3. c. 9._ Hostratus the friar took
that book which Reuclin had writ against him, under the name of _Epist.
obscurorum virorum_, so to heart, that for shame and grief he made away
with himself, [1682]_Jovius in elogiis_. A grave and learned minister, and
an ordinary preacher at Alcmar in Holland, was (one day as he walked in the
fields for his recreation) suddenly taken with a lax or looseness, and
thereupon compelled to retire to the next ditch; but being [1683]surprised
at unawares, by some gentlewomen of his parish wandering that way, was so
abashed, that he did never after show his head in public, or come into the
pulpit, but pined away with melancholy: (Pet. Forestus _med. observat. lib.
10. observat. 12._) So shame amongst other passions can play his prize.

I know there be many base, impudent, brazenfaced rogues, that will [1684]
_Nulla pallescere culpa_, be moved with nothing, take no infamy or disgrace
to heart, laugh at all; let them be proved perjured, stigmatised, convict
rogues, thieves, traitors, lose their ears, be whipped, branded, carted,
pointed at, hissed, reviled, and derided with [1685]Ballio the Bawd in
Plautus, they rejoice at it, _Cantores probos_; "babe and Bombax," what
care they? We have too many such in our times,

        ------"Exclamat Melicerta perisse
        ------Frontem de rebus."[1686]

Yet a modest man, one that hath grace, a generous spirit, tender of his
reputation, will be deeply wounded, and so grievously affected with it,
that he had rather give myriads of crowns, lose his life, than suffer the
least defamation of honour, or blot in his good name. And if so be that he
cannot avoid it, as a nightingale, _Que cantando victa moritur_, (saith
[1687]Mizaldus,) dies for shame if another bird sing better, he languisheth
and pineth away in the anguish of his spirit.

SUBSECT. VII.--_Envy, Malice, Hatred, Causes_.

Envy and malice are two links of this chain, and both, as Guianerius,
_Tract. 15. cap. 2_, proves out of Galen, _3 Aphorism, com. 22_, [1688]
"cause this malady by themselves, especially if their bodies be otherwise
disposed to melancholy." 'Tis Valescus de Taranta, and Felix Platerus'
observation, [1689]"Envy so gnaws many men's hearts, that they become
altogether melancholy." And therefore belike Solomon, Prov. xiv. 13, calls
it, "the rotting of the bones," Cyprian, _vulnus occultum_;

[1690]  ------"Siculi non invenere tyranni
        Majus tormentum"------

The Sicilian tyrants never invented the like torment. It crucifies their
souls, withers their bodies, makes them hollow-eyed, [1691]pale, lean, and
ghastly to behold, Cyprian, _ser. 2. de zelo et livore_. [1692]"As a moth
gnaws a garment, so," saith Chrysostom, "doth envy consume a man;" to be a
living anatomy: a "skeleton, to be a lean and [1693]pale carcass, quickened
with a [1694]fiend", Hall _in Charact._ for so often as an envious wretch
sees another man prosper, to be enriched, to thrive, and be fortunate in
the world, to get honours, offices, or the like, he repines and grieves.

[1695]  ------"intabescitque videndo
        Successus hominum--suppliciumque suum est."

He tortures himself if his equal, friend, neighbour, be preferred,
commended, do well; if he understand of it, it galls him afresh; and no
greater pain can come to him than to hear of another man's well-doing; 'tis
a dagger at his heart every such object. He looks at him as they that fell
down in Lucian's rock of honour, with an envious eye, and will damage
himself, to do another a mischief: _Atque cadet subito, dum super hoste
cadat_. As he did in Aesop, lose one eye willingly, that his fellow might
lose both, or that rich man in [1696]Quintilian that poisoned the flowers
in his garden, because his neighbour's bees should get no more honey from
them. His whole life is sorrow, and every word he speaks a satire: nothing
fats him but other men's ruins. For to speak in a word, envy is nought else
but _Tristitia de bonis alienis_, sorrow for other men's good, be it
present, past, or to come: _et gaudium de adversis_, and [1697]joy at their
harms, opposite to mercy, [1698]which grieves at other men's mischances,
and misaffects the body in another kind; so Damascen defines it, _lib. 2.
de orthod. fid._ Thomas, _2. 2. quaest. 36. art. 1._ Aristotle, _l. 2.
Rhet. c. 4. et 10._ Plato _Philebo_. Tully, _3. Tusc_. Greg. Nic. _l. de
virt. animae, c. 12._ Basil, _de Invidia_. Pindarus _Od. 1. ser. 5_, and we
find it true. 'Tis a common disease, and almost natural to us, as
[1699]Tacitus holds, to envy another man's prosperity. And 'tis in most men
an incurable disease. [1700]"I have read," saith Marcus Aurelius, "Greek,
Hebrew, Chaldee authors; I have consulted with many wise men for a remedy
for envy, I could find none, but to renounce all happiness, and to be a
wretch, and miserable for ever." 'Tis the beginning of hell in this life,
and a passion not to be excused. [1701]"Every other sin hath some pleasure
annexed to it, or will admit of an excuse; envy alone wants both. Other
sins last but for awhile; the gut may be satisfied, anger remits, hatred
hath an end, envy never ceaseth." Cardan, _lib. 2. de sap._ Divine and
humane examples are very familiar; you may run and read them, as that of
Saul and David, Cain and Abel, _angebat illum non proprium peccatum, sed
fratris prosperitas_, saith Theodoret, it was his brother's good fortune
galled him. Rachel envied her sister, being barren, Gen. xxx. Joseph's
brethren him, Gen. xxxvii. David had a touch of this vice, as he
confesseth, [1702]Psal. 37. [1703]Jeremy and [1704]Habakkuk, they repined
at others' good, but in the end they corrected themselves, Psal. 75, "fret
not thyself," &c. Domitian spited Agricola for his worth, [1705]"that a
private man should be so much glorified." [1706]Cecinna was envied of his
fellow-citizens, because he was more richly adorned. But of all others,
[1707]women are most weak, _ob pulchritudinem invidae sunt foeminae
(Musaeus) aut amat, aut odit, nihil est tertium (Granatensis.)_ They love
or hate, no medium amongst them. _Implacabiles plerumque laesae mulieres_,
Agrippina like, [1708]"A woman, if she see her neighbour more neat or
elegant, richer in tires, jewels, or apparel, is enraged, and like a
lioness sets upon her husband, rails at her, scoffs at her, and cannot
abide her;" so the Roman ladies in Tacitus did at Solonina, Cecinna's wife,
[1709]"because she had a better horse, and better furniture, as if she had
hurt them with it; they were much offended." In like sort our gentlewomen
do at their usual meetings, one repines or scoffs at another's bravery and
happiness. Myrsine, an Attic wench, was murdered of her fellows, [1710]
"because she did excel the rest in beauty," Constantine, _Agricult. l. 11.
c. 7._ Every village will yield such examples.

SUBSECT. VIII.--_Emulation, Hatred, Faction, Desire of Revenge, Causes_.

Out of this root of envy [1711]spring those feral branches of faction,
hatred, livor, emulation, which cause the like grievances, and are, _serrae
animae_, the saws of the soul, [1712]_consternationis pleni affectus_,
affections full of desperate amazement; or as Cyprian describes emulation,
it is [1713]"a moth of the soul, a consumption, to make another man's
happiness his misery, to torture, crucify, and execute himself, to eat his
own heart. Meat and drink can do such men no good, they do always grieve,
sigh, and groan, day and night without intermission, their breast is torn
asunder:" and a little after, [1714]"Whomsoever he is whom thou dost
emulate and envy, he may avoid thee, but thou canst neither avoid him nor
thyself; wheresoever thou art he is with thee, thine enemy is ever in thy
breast, thy destruction is within thee, thou art a captive, bound hand and
foot, as long as thou art malicious and envious, and canst not be
comforted. It was the devil's overthrow;" and whensoever thou art
thoroughly affected with this passion, it will be thine. Yet no
perturbation so frequent, no passion so common.

[1715] "[Greek: kai kerameus keramei koteei kai tektoni tekton,
        kai ptochos ptochoi phthoneei kai aoidos aoido.]"

       "A potter emulates a potter:
          One smith envies another:
        A beggar emulates a beggar;
          A singing man his brother."

Every society, corporation, and private family is full of it, it takes hold
almost of all sorts of men, from the prince to the ploughman, even amongst
gossips it is to be seen, scarce three in a company but there is siding,
faction, emulation, between two of them, some _simultas_, jar, private
grudge, heart-burning in the midst of them. Scarce two gentlemen dwell
together in the country, (if they be not near kin or linked in marriage)
but there is emulation betwixt them and their servants, some quarrel or
some grudge betwixt their wives or children, friends and followers, some
contention about wealth, gentry, precedency, &c., by means of which, like
the frog in [1716]Aesop, "that would swell till she was as big as an ox,
burst herself at last;" they will stretch beyond their fortunes, callings,
and strive so long that they consume their substance in lawsuits, or
otherwise in hospitality, feasting, fine clothes, to get a few bombast
titles, for _ambitiosa paupertate laboramus omnes_, to outbrave one
another, they will tire their bodies, macerate their souls, and through
contentions or mutual invitations beggar themselves. Scarce two great
scholars in an age, but with bitter invectives they fall foul one on the
other, and their adherents; Scotists, Thomists, Reals, Nominals, Plato and
Aristotle, Galenists and Paracelsians, &c., it holds in all professions.

Honest [1717]emulation in studies, in all callings is not to be disliked,
'tis _ingeniorum cos_, as one calls it, the whetstone of wit, the nurse of
wit and valour, and those noble Romans out of this spirit did brave
exploits. There is a modest ambition, as Themistocles was roused up with
the glory of Miltiades; Achilles' trophies moved Alexander,

[1718] "Ambire semper stulta confidentia est,
        Ambire nunquam deses arrogantia est."

'Tis a sluggish humour not to emulate or to sue at all, to withdraw
himself, neglect, refrain from such places, honours, offices, through
sloth, niggardliness, fear, bashfulness, or otherwise, to which by his
birth, place, fortunes, education, he is called, apt, fit, and well able to
undergo; but when it is immoderate, it is a plague and a miserable pain.
What a deal of money did Henry VIII. and Francis I. king of France, spend
at that [1719]famous interview? and how many vain courtiers, seeking each
to outbrave other, spent themselves, their livelihood and fortunes, and
died beggars? [1720]Adrian the Emperor was so galled with it, that he
killed all his equals; so did Nero. This passion made [1721]Dionysius the
tyrant banish Plato and Philoxenus the poet, because they did excel and
eclipse his glory, as he thought; the Romans exile Coriolanus, confine
Camillus, murder Scipio; the Greeks by ostracism to expel Aristides,
Nicias, Alcibiades, imprison Theseus, make away Phocion, &c. When Richard
I. and Philip of France were fellow soldiers together, at the siege of Acon
in the Holy Land, and Richard had approved himself to be the more valiant
man, insomuch that all men's eyes were upon him, it so galled Philip,
_Francum urebat Regis victoria_, saith mine [1722]author, _tam aegre
ferebat Richardi gloriam, ut carpere dicta, calumniari facta_; that he
cavilled at all his proceedings, and fell at length to open defiance; he
could contain no longer, but hasting home, invaded his territories, and
professed open war. "Hatred stirs up contention," Prov. x. 12, and they
break out at last into immortal enmity, into virulency, and more than
Vatinian hate and rage; [1723]they persecute each other, their friends,
followers, and all their posterity, with bitter taunts, hostile wars,
scurrile invectives, libels, calumnies, fire, sword, and the like, and will
not be reconciled. Witness that Guelph and Ghibelline faction in Italy;
that of the Adurni and Fregosi in Genoa; that of Cneius Papirius, and
Quintus Fabius in Rome; Caesar and Pompey; Orleans and Burgundy in France;
York and Lancaster in England: yea, this passion so rageth [1724]many
times, that it subverts not men only, and families, but even populous
cities. [1725]Carthage and Corinth can witness as much, nay, flourishing
kingdoms are brought into a wilderness by it. This hatred, malice, faction,
and desire of revenge, invented first all those racks and wheels,
strappadoes, brazen bulls, feral engines, prisons, inquisitions, severe
laws to macerate and torment one another. How happy might we be, and end
our time with blessed days and sweet content, if we could contain
ourselves, and, as we ought to do, put up injuries, learn humility,
meekness, patience, forget and forgive, as in [1726]God's word we are
enjoined, compose such final controversies amongst ourselves, moderate our
passions in this kind, "and think better of others," as [1727]Paul would
have us, "than of ourselves: be of like affection one towards another, and
not avenge ourselves, but have peace with all men." But being that we are
so peevish and perverse, insolent and proud, so factious and seditious, so
malicious and envious; we do _invicem angariare_, maul and vex one another,
torture, disquiet, and precipitate ourselves into that gulf of woes and
cares, aggravate our misery and melancholy, heap upon us hell and eternal

SUBSECT. IX.--_Anger, a Cause_.

Anger, a perturbation, which carries the spirits outwards, preparing the
body to melancholy, and madness itself: _Ira furor brevis est_, "anger is
temporary madness;" and as [1728]Picolomineus accounts it, one of the three
most violent passions. [1729]Areteus sets it down for an especial cause (so
doth Seneca, _ep. 18. l. 1_,) of this malady. [1730]Magninus gives the
reason, _Ex frequenti ira supra modum calefiunt_; it overheats their
bodies, and if it be too frequent, it breaks out into manifest madness,
saith St. Ambrose. 'Tis a known saying, _Furor fit Iaesa saepius
palienlia_, the most patient spirit that is, if he be often provoked, will
be incensed to madness; it will make a devil of a saint: and therefore
Basil (belike) in his Homily _de Ira_, calls it _tenebras rationis, morbum
animae, et daemonem pessimum_; the darkening of our understanding, and a
bad angel. [1731]Lucian, _in Abdicato, tom. 1_, will have this passion to
work this effect, especially in old men and women. "Anger and calumny"
(saith he) "trouble them at first, and after a while break out into
madness: many things cause fury in women, especially if they love or hate
overmuch, or envy, be much grieved or angry; these things by little and
little lead them on to this malady." From a disposition they proceed to an
habit, for there is no difference between a mad man, and an angry man, in
the time of his fit; anger, as Lactantius describes it, _L. de Ira Dei, ad
Donatum, c. 5_, is [1732]_saeva animi tempestas_, &c., a cruel tempest of
the mind; "making his eye sparkle fire, and stare, teeth gnash in his head,
his tongue stutter, his face pale, or red, and what more filthy imitation
can be of a mad man?"

[1733] "Ora tument ira, fervescunt sanguine venae,
        Lumina Gorgonio saevius angue micant."

They are void of reason, inexorable, blind, like beasts and monsters for
the time, say and do they know not what, curse, swear, rail, fight, and
what not? How can a mad man do more? as he said in the comedy, [1734]
_Iracundia non sum apud me_, I am not mine own man. If these fits be
immoderate, continue long, or be frequent, without doubt they provoke
madness. Montanus, _consil. 21_, had a melancholy Jew to his patient, he
ascribes this for a principal cause: _Irascebatur levibus de causis_, he
was easily moved to anger. Ajax had no other beginning of his madness; and
Charles the Sixth, that lunatic French king, fell into this misery, out of
the extremity of his passion, desire of revenge and malice, [1735]incensed
against the duke of Britain, he could neither eat, drink, nor sleep for
some days together, and in the end, about the calends of July, 1392, he
became mad upon his horseback, drawing his sword, striking such as came
near him promiscuously, and so continued all the days of his life, Aemil.,
_lib. 10._ Gal. _hist._ Aegesippus _de exid. urbis Hieros, l. 1. c. 37_,
hath such a story of Herod, that out of an angry fit, became mad,
[1736]leaping out of his bed, he killed Jossippus, and played many such
bedlam pranks, the whole court could not rule him for a long time after:
sometimes he was sorry and repented, much grieved for that he had done,
_Postquam deferbuit ira_, by and by outrageous again. In hot choleric
bodies, nothing so soon causeth madness, as this passion of anger, besides
many other diseases, as Pelesius observes, _cap. 21. l. 1. de hum. affect.
causis_; _Sanguinem imminuit, fel auget_: and as [1737]Valesius
controverts, _Med. controv., lib. 5. contro. 8_, many times kills them
quite out. If this were the worst of this passion, it were more tolerable,
[1738]"but it ruins and subverts whole towns, [1739]cities, families, and
kingdoms;" _Nulla pestis humano generi pluris stetit_, saith Seneca, _de
Ira, lib. 1._ No plague hath done mankind so much harm. Look into our
histories, and you shall almost meet with no other subject, but what a
company [1740]of harebrains have done in their rage. We may do well
therefore to put this in our procession amongst the rest; "From all
blindness of heart, from pride, vainglory, and hypocrisy, from envy, hatred
and malice, anger, and all such pestiferous perturbations, good Lord
deliver us."

SUBSECT. X.--_Discontents, Cares, Miseries, &c. Causes_.

Discontents, cares, crosses, miseries, or whatsoever it is, that shall
cause any molestation of spirits, grief, anguish, and perplexity, may well
be reduced to this head, (preposterously placed here in some men's
judgments they may seem,) yet in that Aristotle in his [1741]Rhetoric
defines these cares, as he doth envy, emulation, &c. still by grief, I
think I may well rank them in this irascible row; being that they are as
the rest, both causes and symptoms of this disease, producing the like
inconveniences, and are most part accompanied with anguish and pain. The
common etymology will evince it, _Cura quasi cor uro, Dementes curae,
insomnes curae, damnosae curae, tristes, mordaces, carnifices_, &c. biting,
eating, gnawing, cruel, bitter, sick, sad, unquiet, pale, tetric,
miserable, intolerable cares, as the poets [1742]call them, worldly cares,
and are as many in number as the sea sands. [1743]Galen, Fernelius, Felix
Plater, Valescus de Taranta, &c., reckon afflictions, miseries, even all
these contentions, and vexations of the mind, as principal causes, in that
they take away sleep, hinder concoction, dry up the body, and consume the
substance of it. They are not so many in number, but their causes be as
divers, and not one of a thousand free from them, or that can vindicate
himself, whom that _Ate dea_,

[1744] "Per hominum capita molliter ambulans,
        Plantas pedum teneras habens:"

       "Over men's heads walking aloft,
        With tender feet treading so soft,"

Homer's Goddess Ate hath not involved into this discontented [1745]rank, or
plagued with some misery or other. Hyginus, _fab. 220_, to this purpose
hath a pleasant tale. Dame Cura by chance went over a brook, and taking up
some of the dirty slime, made an image of it; Jupiter eftsoons coming by,
put life to it, but Cura and Jupiter could not agree what name to give him,
or who should own him; the matter was referred to Saturn as judge; he gave
this arbitrement: his name shall be _Homo ab humo, Cura eum possideat
quamdiu vivat_, Care shall have him whilst he lives, Jupiter his soul, and
Tellus his body when he dies. But to leave tales. A general cause, a
continuate cause, an inseparable accident, to all men, is discontent, care,
misery; were there no other particular affliction (which who is free from?)
to molest a man in this life, the very cogitation of that common misery
were enough to macerate, and make him weary of his life; to think that he
can never be secure, but still in danger, sorrow, grief, and persecution.
For to begin at the hour of his birth, as [1746]Pliny doth elegantly
describe it, "he is born naked, and falls [1747]a whining at the very
first: he is swaddled, and bound up like a prisoner, cannot help himself,
and so he continues to his life's end." _Cujusque ferae pabulum_, saith
[1748]Seneca, impatient of heat and cold, impatient of labour, impatient of
idleness, exposed to fortune's contumelies. To a naked mariner Lucretius
compares him, cast on shore by shipwreck, cold and comfortless in an
unknown land: [1749]no estate, age, sex, can secure himself from this
common misery. "A man that is born of a woman is of short continuance, and
full of trouble," Job xiv. 1, 22. "And while his flesh is upon him he shall
be sorrowful, and while his soul is in him it shall mourn. All his days are
sorrow and his travels griefs: his heart also taketh not rest in the
night." Eccles. ii. 23, and ii. 11. "All that is in it is sorrow and
vexation of spirit. [1750]Ingress, progress, regress, egress, much alike:
blindness seizeth on us in the beginning, labour in the middle, grief in
the end, error in all. What day ariseth to us without some grief, care, or
anguish? Or what so secure and pleasing a morning have we seen, that hath
not been overcast before the evening?" One is miserable, another
ridiculous, a third odious. One complains of this grievance, another of
that. _Aliquando nervi, aliquando pedes vexant_, (Seneca) _nunc
distillatio, nunc epatis morbus; nunc deest, nunc superest sanguis_: now
the head aches, then the feet, now the lungs, then the liver, &c. _Huic
sensus exuberat, sed est pudori degener sanguis_, &c. He is rich, but base
born; he is noble, but poor; a third hath means, but he wants health
peradventure, or wit to manage his estate; children vex one, wife a second,
&c. _Nemo facile cum conditione sua concordat_, no man is pleased with his
fortune, a pound of sorrow is familiarly mixed with a dram of content,
little or no joy, little comfort, but [1751]everywhere danger, contention,
anxiety, in all places: go where thou wilt, and thou shalt find
discontents, cares, woes, complaints, sickness, diseases, encumbrances,
exclamations: "If thou look into the market, there" (saith [1752]
Chrysostom) "is brawling and contention; if to the court, there knavery and
flattery, &c.; if to a private man's house, there's cark and care,
heaviness," &c. As he said of old,

[1753] "Nil homine in terra spirat miserum magis alma?"

No creature so miserable as man, so generally molested, [1754]"in miseries
of body, in miseries of mind, miseries of heart, in miseries asleep, in
miseries awake, in miseries wheresoever he turns," as Bernard found,
_Nunquid tentatio est vita humana super terram_? A mere temptation is our
life, (Austin, _confess. lib. 10. cap. 28_,) _catena perpetuorum malorum,
et quis potest molestias et difficultates pati_? Who can endure the
miseries of it? [1755]"In prosperity we are insolent and intolerable,
dejected in adversity, in all fortunes foolish and miserable." [1756]"In
adversity I wish for prosperity, and in prosperity I am afraid of
adversity. What mediocrity may be found? Where is no temptation? What
condition of life is free?" [1757]"Wisdom hath labour annexed to it, glory,
envy; riches and cares, children and encumbrances, pleasure and diseases,
rest and beggary, go together: as if a man were therefore born" (as the
Platonists hold) "to be punished in this life for some precedent sins." Or
that, as [1758]Pliny complains, "Nature may be rather accounted a
stepmother, than a mother unto us, all things considered: no creature's
life so brittle, so full of fear, so mad, so furious; only man is plagued
with envy, discontent, griefs, covetousness, ambition, superstition." Our
whole life is an Irish sea, wherein there is nought to be expected but
tempestuous storms and troublesome waves, and those infinite,

[1759] "Tantum malorum pelagus aspicio,
        Ut non sit inde enatandi copia,"

no halcyonian times, wherein a man can hold himself secure, or agree with
his present estate; but as Boethius infers, [1760]"there is something in
every one of us which before trial we seek, and having tried abhor: [1761]
we earnestly wish, and eagerly covet, and are eftsoons weary of it." Thus
between hope and fear, suspicions, angers, [1762]_Inter spemque metumque,
timores inter et iras_, betwixt falling in, falling out, &c., we bangle
away our best days, befool out our times, we lead a contentious,
discontent, tumultuous, melancholy, miserable life; insomuch, that if we
could foretell what was to come, and it put to our choice, we should rather
refuse than accept of this painful life. In a word, the world itself is a
maze, a labyrinth of errors, a desert, a wilderness, a den of thieves,
cheaters, &c., full of filthy puddles, horrid rocks, precipitiums, an ocean
of adversity, an heavy yoke, wherein infirmities and calamities overtake,
and follow one another, as the sea waves; and if we scape Scylla, we fall
foul on Charybdis, and so in perpetual fear, labour, anguish, we run from
one plague, one mischief, one burden to another, _duram servientes
servitutem_, and you may as soon separate weight from lead, heat from fire,
moistness from water, brightness from the sun, as misery, discontent, care,
calamity, danger, from a man. Our towns and cities are but so many
dwellings of human misery. "In which grief and sorrow" ([1763]as he right
well observes out of Solon) "innumerable troubles, labours of mortal men,
and all manner of vices, are included, as in so many pens." Our villages
are like molehills, and men as so many emmets, busy, busy still, going to
and fro, in and out, and crossing one another's projects, as the lines of
several sea-cards cut each other in a globe or map. "Now light and merry,"
but ([1764]as one follows it) "by-and-by sorrowful and heavy; now hoping,
then distrusting; now patient, tomorrow crying out; now pale, then red;
running, sitting, sweating, trembling, halting," &c. Some few amongst the
rest, or perhaps one of a thousand, may be Pullus Jovis, in the world's
esteem, _Gallinae filius albae_, an happy and fortunate man, _ad invidiam
felix_, because rich, fair, well allied, in honour and office; yet
peradventure ask himself, and he will say, that of all others [1765]he is
most miserable and unhappy. A fair shoe, _Hic soccus novus, elegans_, as he
[1766]said, _sed nescis ubi urat_, but thou knowest not where it pincheth.
It is not another man's opinion can make me happy: but as [1767]Seneca well
hath it, "He is a miserable wretch that doth not account himself happy,
though he be sovereign lord of a world: he is not happy, if he think
himself not to be so; for what availeth it what thine estate is, or seem to
others, if thou thyself dislike it?" A common humour it is of all men to
think well of other men's fortunes, and dislike their own: [1768]_Cui
placet alterius, sua nimirum est odio sors_; but [1769]_qui fit Mecoenas_,
&c., how comes it to pass, what's the cause of it? Many men are of such a
perverse nature, they are well pleased with nothing, (saith [1770]
Theodoret,) "neither with riches nor poverty, they complain when they are
well and when they are sick, grumble at all fortunes, prosperity and
adversity; they are troubled in a cheap year, in a barren, plenty or not
plenty, nothing pleaseth them, war nor peace, with children, nor without."
This for the most part is the humour of us all, to be discontent,
miserable, and most unhappy, as we think at least; and show me him that is
not so, or that ever was otherwise. Quintus Metellus his felicity is
infinitely admired amongst the Romans, insomuch that as [1771]Paterculus
mentioneth of him, you can scarce find of any nation, order, age, sex, one
for happiness to be compared unto him: he had, in a word, _Bona animi,
corporis et fortunae_, goods of mind, body, and fortune, so had P.
Mutianus, [1772]Crassus. Lampsaca, that Lacedaemonian lady, was such
another in [1773]Pliny's conceit, a king's wife, a king's mother, a king's
daughter: and all the world esteemed as much of Polycrates of Samos. The
Greeks brag of their Socrates, Phocion, Aristides; the Psophidians in
particular of their Aglaus, _Omni vita felix, ab omni periculo immunis_
(which by the way Pausanias held impossible;) the Romans of their [1774]
Cato, Curius, Fabricius, for their composed fortunes, and retired estates,
government of passions, and contempt of the world: yet none of all these
were happy, or free from discontent, neither Metellus, Crassus, nor
Polycrates, for he died a violent death, and so did Cato; and how much evil
doth Lactantius and Theodoret speak of Socrates, a weak man, and so of the
rest. There is no content in this life, but as [1775]he said, "All is
vanity and vexation of spirit;" lame and imperfect. Hadst thou Sampson's
hair, Milo's strength, Scanderbeg's arm, Solomon's wisdom, Absalom's
beauty, Croesus' wealth, _Pasetis obulum_, Caesar's valour, Alexander's
spirit, Tully's or Demosthenes' eloquence, Gyges' ring, Perseus' Pegasus,
and Gorgon's head, Nestor's years to come, all this would not make thee
absolute; give thee content, and true happiness in this life, or so
continue it. Even in the midst of all our mirth, jollity, and laughter, is
sorrow and grief, or if there be true happiness amongst us, 'tis but for a

[1776] "Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne:"

       "A handsome woman with a fish's tail,"

a fair morning turns to a lowering afternoon. Brutus and Cassius, once
renowned, both eminently happy, yet you shall scarce find two (saith
Paterculus) _quos fortuna maturius destiturit_, whom fortune sooner
forsook. Hannibal, a conqueror all his life, met with his match, and was
subdued at last, _Occurrit forti, qui mage fortis erit._ One is brought in
triumph, as Caesar into Rome, Alcibiades into Athens, _coronis aureis
donatus_, crowned, honoured, admired; by-and-by his statues demolished, he
hissed out, massacred, &c. [1777]Magnus Gonsalva, that famous Spaniard, was
of the prince and people at first honoured, approved; forthwith confined
and banished. _Admirandas actiones; graves plerunque sequuntur invidiae, et
acres calumniae_: 'tis Polybius his observation, grievous enmities, and
bitter calumnies, commonly follow renowned actions. One is born rich, dies
a beggar; sound today, sick tomorrow; now in most flourishing estate,
fortunate and happy, by-and-by deprived of his goods by foreign enemies,
robbed by thieves, spoiled, captivated, impoverished, as they of
[1778]"Rabbah put under iron saws, and under iron harrows, and under axes
of iron, and cast into the tile kiln,"

[1779] "Quid me felicem toties jactastis amici,
        Qui cecidit, stabili non erat ille gradu."

He that erst marched like Xerxes with innumerable armies, as rich as
Croesus, now shifts for himself in a poor cock-boat, is bound in iron
chains, with Bajazet the Turk, and a footstool with Aurelian, for a
tyrannising conqueror to trample on. So many casualties there are, that as
Seneca said of a city consumed with fire, _Una dies interest inter maximum
civitatem et nullam_, one day betwixt a great city and none: so many
grievances from outward accidents, and from ourselves, our own
indiscretion, inordinate appetite, one day betwixt a man and no man. And
which is worse, as if discontents and miseries would not come fast enough
upon us: _homo homini daemon_, we maul, persecute, and study how to sting,
gall, and vex one another with mutual hatred, abuses, injuries; preying
upon and devouring as so many, [1780]ravenous birds; and as jugglers,
panders, bawds, cozening one another; or raging as [1781]wolves, tigers,
and devils, we take a delight to torment one another; men are evil, wicked,
malicious, treacherous, and [1782]naught, not loving one another, or loving
themselves, not hospitable, charitable, nor sociable as they ought to be,
but counterfeit, dissemblers, ambidexters, all for their own ends,
hard-hearted, merciless, pitiless, and to benefit themselves, they care not
what mischief they procure to others. [1783]Praxinoe and Gorgo in the poet,
when they had got in to see those costly sights, they then cried _bene
est_, and would thrust out all the rest: when they are rich themselves, in
honour, preferred, full, and have even that they would, they debar others
of those pleasures which youth requires, and they formerly have enjoyed. He
sits at table in a soft chair at ease, but he doth remember in the mean
time that a tired waiter stands behind him, "an hungry fellow ministers to
him full, he is athirst that gives him drink" (saith [1784]Epictetus) "and
is silent whilst he speaks his pleasure: pensive, sad, when he laughs."
_Pleno se proluit auro_: he feasts, revels, and profusely spends, hath
variety of robes, sweet music, ease, and all the pleasure the world can
afford, whilst many an hunger-starved poor creature pines in the street,
wants clothes to cover him, labours hard all day long, runs, rides for a
trifle, fights peradventure from sun to sun, sick and ill, weary, full of
pain and grief, is in great distress and sorrow of heart. He loathes and
scorns his inferior, hates or emulates his equal, envies his superior,
insults over all such as are under him, as if he were of another species, a
demigod, not subject to any fall, or human infirmities. Generally they love
not, are not beloved again: they tire out others' bodies with continual
labour, they themselves living at ease, caring for none else, _sibi nati_;
and are so far many times from putting to their helping hand, that they
seek all means to depress, even most worthy and well deserving, better than
themselves, those whom they are by the laws of nature bound to relieve and
help, as much as in them lies, they will let them caterwaul, starve, beg,
and hang, before they will any ways (though it be in their power) assist or
ease: [1785]so unnatural are they for the most part, so unregardful; so
hard-hearted, so churlish, proud, insolent, so dogged, of so bad a
disposition. And being so brutish, so devilishly bent one towards another,
how is it possible but that we should be discontent of all sides, full of
cares, woes, and miseries?

If this be not a sufficient proof of their discontent and misery, examine
every condition and calling apart. Kings, princes, monarchs, and
magistrates seem to be most happy, but look into their estate, you shall
[1786]find them to be most encumbered with cares, in perpetual fear, agony,
suspicion, jealousy: that, as [1787]he said of a crown, if they knew but
the discontents that accompany it, they would not stoop to take it up.
_Quem mihi regent dabis_ (saith Chrysostom) _non curis plenum_? What king
canst thou show me, not full of cares? [1788]"Look not on his crown, but
consider his afflictions; attend not his number of servants, but multitude
of crosses." _Nihil aliud potestas culminis, quam tempestas mentis_, as
Gregory seconds him; sovereignty is a tempest of the soul: Sylla like they
have brave titles, but terrible fits: _splendorem titulo, cruciatum animo_:
which made [1789]Demosthenes vow, _si vel ad tribunal, vel ad interitum
duceretur_: if to be a judge, or to be condemned, were put to his choice,
he would be condemned. Rich men are in the same predicament; what their
pains are, _stulti nesciunt, ipsi sentiunt_: they feel, fools perceive not,
as I shall prove elsewhere, and their wealth is brittle, like children's
rattles: they come and go, there is no certainty in them: those whom they
elevate, they do as suddenly depress, and leave in a vale of misery. The
middle sort of men are as so many asses to bear burdens; or if they be
free, and live at ease, they spend themselves, and consume their bodies and
fortunes with luxury and riot, contention, emulation, &c. The poor I
reserve for another [1790]place and their discontents.

For particular professions, I hold as of the rest, there's no content or
security in any; on what course will you pitch, how resolve? to be a
divine, 'tis contemptible in the world's esteem; to be a lawyer, 'tis to be
a wrangler; to be a physician, [1791]_pudet lotii_, 'tis loathed; a
philosopher, a madman; an alchemist, a beggar; a poet, _esurit_, an hungry
jack; a musician, a player; a schoolmaster, a drudge; an husbandman, an
emmet; a merchant, his gains are uncertain; a mechanician, base; a
chirurgeon, fulsome; a tradesman, a [1792]liar; a tailor, a thief; a
serving-man, a slave; a soldier, a butcher; a smith, or a metalman, the
pot's never from his nose; a courtier a parasite, as he could find no tree
in the wood to hang himself; I can show no state of life to give content.
The like you may say of all ages; children live in a perpetual slavery,
still under that tyrannical government of masters; young men, and of riper
years, subject to labour, and a thousand cares of the world, to treachery,
falsehood, and cozenage,

[1793]  ------"Incedit per ignes,
        Suppositos cineri doloso,"

        ------"you incautious tread
        On fires, with faithless ashes overhead."

[1794]old are full of aches in their bones, cramps and convulsions,
_silicernia_, dull of hearing, weak sighted, hoary, wrinkled, harsh, so
much altered as that they cannot know their own face in a glass, a burthen
to themselves and others, after 70 years, "all is sorrow" (as David hath
it), they do not live but linger. If they be sound, they fear diseases; if
sick, weary of their lives: _Non est vivere, sed valere vita._ One
complains of want, a second of servitude, [1795]another of a secret or
incurable disease; of some deformity of body, of some loss, danger, death
of friends, shipwreck, persecution, imprisonment, disgrace, repulse, [1796]
contumely, calumny, abuse, injury, contempt, ingratitude, unkindness,
scoffs, flouts, unfortunate marriage, single life, too many children, no
children, false servants, unhappy children, barrenness, banishment,
oppression, frustrate hopes and ill-success, &c.

[1797] "Talia de genere hoc adeo sunt multa, loquacem ut
        Delassare valent Fabium."------

       "But, every various instance to repeat,
        Would tire even Fabius of incessant prate."

Talking Fabius will be tired before he can tell half of them; they are the
subject of whole volumes, and shall (some of them) be more opportunely
dilated elsewhere. In the meantime thus much I may say of them, that
generally they crucify the soul of man, [1798]attenuate our bodies, dry
them, wither them, shrivel them up like old apples, make them as so many
anatomies ([1799]_ossa atque pellis est totus, ita curis macet_) they cause
_tempus foedum et squalidum_, cumbersome days, _ingrataque tempora_, slow,
dull, and heavy times: make us howl, roar, and tear our hairs, as sorrow
did in [1800]Cebes' table, and groan for the very anguish of our souls. Our
hearts fail us as David's did, Psal. xl. 12, "for innumerable troubles that
compassed him;" and we are ready to confess with Hezekiah, Isaiah lviii.
17, "behold, for felicity I had bitter grief;" to weep with Heraclitus, to
curse the day of our birth with Jeremy, xx. 14, and our stars with Job: to
hold that axiom of Silenus, [1801]"better never to have been born, and the
best next of all, to die quickly:" or if we must live, to abandon the
world, as Timon did; creep into caves and holes, as our anchorites; cast
all into the sea, as Crates Thebanus; or as Theombrotus Ambrociato's 400
auditors, precipitate ourselves to be rid of these miseries.

SUBSECT. XI.--_Concupiscible Appetite, as Desires, Ambition, Causes_.

These concupiscible and irascible appetites are as the two twists of a
rope, mutually mixed one with the other, and both twining about the heart:
both good, as Austin, holds, _l. 14. c. 9. de civ. Dei_, [1802]"if they be
moderate; both pernicious if they be exorbitant." This concupiscible
appetite, howsoever it may seem to carry with it a show of pleasure and
delight, and our concupiscences most part affect us with content and a
pleasing object, yet if they be in extremes, they rack and wring us on the
other side. A true saying it is, "Desire hath no rest;" is infinite in
itself, endless; and as [1803]one calls it, a perpetual rack, [1804]or
horse-mill, according to Austin, still going round as in a ring. They are
not so continual, as divers, _felicius atomos denumerare possem_, saith
[1805]Bernard, _quam motus cordis; nunc haec, nunc illa cogito_, you may as
well reckon up the motes in the sun as them. [1806]"It extends itself to
everything," as Guianerius will have it, "that is superfluously sought
after:"' or to any [1807]fervent desire, as Fernelius interprets it; be it
in what kind soever, it tortures if immoderate, and is (according to [1808]
Plater and others) an especial cause of melancholy. _Multuosis
concupiscentiis dilaniantur cogitationes meae_, [1809]Austin confessed,
that he was torn a pieces with his manifold desires: and so doth [1810]
Bernard complain, "that he could not rest for them a minute of an hour:
this I would have, and that, and then I desire to be such and such." 'Tis a
hard matter therefore to confine them, being they are so various and many,
impossible to apprehend all. I will only insist upon some few of the chief,
and most noxious in their kind, as that exorbitant appetite and desire of
honour, which we commonly call ambition; love of money, which is
covetousness, and that greedy desire of gain: self-love, pride, and
inordinate desire of vainglory or applause, love of study in excess; love
of women (which will require a just volume of itself), of the other I will
briefly speak, and in their order.

Ambition, a proud covetousness, or a dry thirst of honour, a great torture
of the mind, composed of envy, pride, and covetousness, a gallant madness,
one [1811]defines it a pleasant poison, Ambrose, "a canker of the soul, an
hidden plague:" [1812]Bernard, "a secret poison, the father of livor, and
mother of hypocrisy, the moth of holiness, and cause of madness, crucifying
and disquieting all that it takes hold of." [1813]Seneca calls it, _rem
solicitam, timidam, vanam, ventosam_, a windy thing, a vain, solicitous,
and fearful thing. For commonly they that, like Sisyphus, roll this
restless stone of ambition, are in a perpetual agony, still [1814]
perplexed, _semper taciti, tritesque recedunt_ (Lucretius), doubtful,
timorous, suspicious, loath to offend in word or deed, still cogging and
colloguing, embracing, capping, cringing, applauding, flattering, fleering,
visiting, waiting at men's doors, with all affability, counterfeit honesty
and humility. [1815]If that will not serve, if once this humour (as
[1816]Cyprian describes it) possess his thirsty soul, _ambitionis salsugo
ubi bibulam animam possidet_, by hook and by crook he will obtain it, "and
from his hole he will climb to all honours and offices, if it be possible
for him to get up, flattering one, bribing another, he will leave no means
unessay'd to win all." [1817]It is a wonder to see how slavishly these kind
of men subject themselves, when they are about a suit, to every inferior
person; what pains they will take, run, ride, cast, plot, countermine,
protest and swear, vow, promise, what labours undergo, early up, down late;
how obsequious and affable they are, how popular and courteous, how they
grin and fleer upon every man they meet; with what feasting and inviting,
how they spend themselves and their fortunes, in seeking that many times,
which they had much better be without; as [1818]Cyneas the orator told
Pyrrhus: with what waking nights, painful hours, anxious thoughts, and
bitterness of mind, _inter spemque metumque_, distracted and tired, they
consume the interim of their time. There can be no greater plague for the
present. If they do obtain their suit, which with such cost and solicitude
they have sought, they are not so freed, their anxiety is anew to begin,
for they are never satisfied, _nihil aliud nisi imperium spirant_, their
thoughts, actions, endeavours are all for sovereignty and honour, like
[1819]Lues Sforza that huffing Duke of Milan, "a man of singular wisdom,
but profound ambition, born to his own, and to the destruction of Italy,"
though it be to their own ruin, and friends' undoing, they will contend,
they may not cease, but as a dog in a wheel, a bird in a cage, or a
squirrel in a chain, so [1820]Budaeus compares them; [1821]they climb and
climb still, with much labour, but never make an end, never at the top. A
knight would be a baronet, and then a lord, and then a viscount, and then
an earl, &c.; a doctor, a dean, and then a bishop; from tribune to praetor;
from bailiff to major; first this office, and then that; as Pyrrhus in
[1822]Plutarch, they will first have Greece, then Africa, and then Asia,
and swell with Aesop's frog so long, till in the end they burst, or come
down with Sejanus, _ad Gemonias scalas_, and break their own necks; or as
Evangelus the piper in Lucian, that blew his pipe so long, till he fell
down dead. If he chance to miss, and have a canvass, he is in a hell on the
other side; so dejected, that he is ready to hang himself, turn heretic,
Turk, or traitor in an instant. Enraged against his enemies, he rails,
swears, fights, slanders, detracts, envies, murders: and for his own part,
_si appetitum explere non potest, furore corripitur_; if he cannot satisfy
his desire (as [1823]Bodine writes) he runs mad. So that both ways, hit or
miss, he is distracted so long as his ambition lasts, he can look for no
other but anxiety and care, discontent and grief in the meantime,
[1824]madness itself, or violent death in the end. The event of this is
common to be seen in populous cities, or in princes' courts, for a
courtier's life (as Budaeus describes it) "is a [1825]gallimaufry of
ambition, lust, fraud, imposture, dissimulation, detraction, envy, pride;
[1826]the court, a common conventicle of flatterers, time-servers,
politicians," &c.; or as [1827] Anthony Perez will, "the suburbs of hell
itself." If you will see such discontented persons, there you shall likely
find them. [1828]And which he observed of the markets of old Rome,

       "Qui perjurum convenire vult hominem, mitto in Comitium;
        Qui mendacem et gloriosum, apud Cluasinae sacrum;
        Dites, damnosos maritos, sub basilica quaerito," &c.

Perjured knaves, knights of the post, liars, crackers, bad husbands, &c.
keep their several stations; they do still, and always did in every

SUBSECT. XII.--[Greek: philarguria], _Covetousness, a Cause_.

Plutarch, in his [1829]book whether the diseases of the body be more
grievous than those of the soul, is of opinion, "if you will examine all
the causes of our miseries in this life, you shall find them most part to
have had their beginning from stubborn anger, that furious desire of
contention, or some unjust or immoderate affection, as covetousness," &c.
From whence "are wars and contentions amongst you?" [1830]St. James asks: I
will add usury, fraud, rapine, simony, oppression, lying, swearing, bearing
false witness, &c. are they not from this fountain of covetousness, that
greediness in getting, tenacity in keeping, sordidity in spending; that
they are so wicked, [1831]"unjust against God, their neighbour,
themselves;" all comes hence. "The desire of money is the root of all evil,
and they that lust after it, pierce themselves through with many sorrows,"
1 Tim. vi. 10. Hippocrates therefore in his Epistle to Crateva, an
herbalist, gives him this good counsel, that if it were possible, [1832]
"amongst other herbs, he should cut up that weed of covetousness by the
roots, that there be no remainder left, and then know this for a certainty,
that together with their bodies, thou mayst quickly cure all the diseases
of their minds." For it is indeed the pattern, image, epitome of all
melancholy, the fountain of many miseries, much discontented care and woe;
this "inordinate, or immoderate desire of gain, to get or keep money," as
[1833]Bonaventure defines it: or, as Austin describes it, a madness of the
soul, Gregory a torture; Chrysostom, an insatiable drunkenness; Cyprian,
blindness, _speciosum supplicium_, a plague subverting kingdoms, families,
an [1834]incurable disease; Budaeus, an ill habit, [1835]"yielding to no
remedies:" neither Aesculapius nor Plutus can cure them: a continual
plague, saith Solomon, and vexation of spirit, another hell. I know there
be some of opinion, that covetous men are happy, and worldly, wise, that
there is more pleasure in getting of wealth than in spending, and no
delight in the world like unto it. 'Twas [1836]Bias' problem of old, "With
what art thou not weary? with getting money. What is most delectable? to
gain." What is it, trow you, that makes a poor man labour all his lifetime,
carry such great burdens, fare so hardly, macerate himself, and endure so
much misery, undergo such base offices with so great patience, to rise up
early, and lie down late, if there were not an extraordinary delight in
getting and keeping of money? What makes a merchant that hath no need,
_satis superque domi_, to range all over the world, through all those
intemperate [1837]Zones of heat and cold; voluntarily to venture his life,
and be content with such miserable famine, nasty usage, in a stinking ship;
if there were not a pleasure and hope to get money, which doth season the
rest, and mitigate his indefatigable pains? What makes them go into the
bowels of the earth, an hundred fathom deep, endangering their dearest
lives, enduring damps and filthy smells, when they have enough already, if
they could be content, and no such cause to labour, but an extraordinary
delight they take in riches. This may seem plausible at first show, a
popular and strong argument; but let him that so thinks, consider better of
it, and he shall soon perceive, that it is far otherwise than he supposeth;
it may be haply pleasing at the first, as most part all melancholy is. For
such men likely have some _lucida intervalla_, pleasant symptoms
intermixed; but you must note that of [1838]Chrysostom, "'Tis one thing to
be rich, another to be covetous:" generally they are all fools, dizzards,
madmen, [1839]miserable wretches, living besides themselves, _sine arte
fruendi_, in perpetual slavery, fear, suspicion, sorrow, and discontent,
_plus aloes quam mellis habent_; and are indeed, "rather possessed by their
money, than possessors:" as [1840]Cyprian hath it, _mancipati pecuniis_;
bound prentice to their goods, as [1841]Pliny; or as Chrysostom, _servi
divitiarum_, slaves and drudges to their substance; and we may conclude of
them all, as [1842]Valerius doth of Ptolomaeus king of Cyprus, "He was in
title a king of that island, but in his mind, a miserable drudge of money:"

[1843]  ------"potiore metallis
        libertate carens"------

wanting his liberty, which is better than gold. Damasippus the Stoic, in
Horace, proves that all mortal men dote by fits, some one way, some
another, but that covetous men [1844]are madder than the rest; and he that
shall truly look into their estates, and examine their symptoms, shall find
no better of them, but that they are all [1845]fools, as Nabal was, _Re et
nomine_ (1. Reg. 15.) For what greater folly can there be, or [1846]
madness, than to macerate himself when he need not? and when, as Cyprian
notes, [1847]"he may be freed from his burden, and eased of his pains, will
go on still, his wealth increasing, when he hath enough, to get more, to
live besides himself," to starve his genius, keep back from his wife
[1848]and children, neither letting them nor other friends use or enjoy
that which is theirs by right, and which they much need perhaps; like a
hog, or dog in the manger, he doth only keep it, because it shall do nobody
else good, hurting himself and others: and for a little momentary pelf,
damn his own soul? They are commonly sad and tetric by nature, as Achab's
spirit was because he could not get Naboth's vineyard, (1. Reg. 22.) and if
he lay out his money at any time, though it be to necessary uses, to his
own children's good, he brawls and scolds, his heart is heavy, much
disquieted he is, and loath to part from it: _Miser abstinet et timet uti_,
Hor. He is of a wearish, dry, pale constitution, and cannot sleep for cares
and worldly business; his riches, saith Solomon, will not let him sleep,
and unnecessary business which he heapeth on himself; or if he do sleep,
'tis a very unquiet, interrupt, unpleasing sleep: with his bags in his

        ------"congestis undique sacc
        indormit inhians,"------

And though he be at a banquet, or at some merry feast, "he sighs for grief
of heart" (as [1849]Cyprian hath it) "and cannot sleep though it be upon a
down bed; his wearish body takes no rest," [1850]"troubled in his
abundance, and sorrowful in plenty, unhappy for the present, and more
unhappy in the life to come." Basil. He is a perpetual drudge,
[1851]restless in his thoughts, and never satisfied, a slave, a wretch, a
dust-worm, _semper quod idolo suo immolet, sedulus observat_ Cypr. _prolog.
ad sermon_ still seeking what sacrifice he may offer to his golden god,
_per fas et nefas_, he cares not how, his trouble is endless,
[1852]_crescunt divitiae, tamen curtae nescio quid semper abest rei_: his
wealth increaseth, and the more he hath, the more [1853]he wants: like
Pharaoh's lean kine, which devoured the fat, and were not satisfied.
[1854]Austin therefore defines covetousness, _quarumlibet rerum inhonestam
et insatiabilem cupiditatem_ a dishonest and insatiable desire of gain; and
in one of his epistles compares it to hell; [1855]"which devours all, and
yet never hath enough, a bottomless pit," an endless misery; _in quem
scopulum avaritiae cadaverosi senes utplurimum impingunt_, and that which
is their greatest corrosive, they are in continual suspicion, fear, and
distrust, He thinks his own wife and children are so many thieves, and go
about to cozen him, his servants are all false:

       "Rem suam periisse, seque eradicarier,
        Et divum atque hominum clamat continuo fidem,
        De suo tigillo si qua exit foras."

       "If his doors creek, then out he cries anon,
        His goods are gone, and he is quite undone."

_Timidus Plutus_, an old proverb, As fearful as Plutus: so doth
Aristophanes and Lucian bring him in fearful still, pale, anxious,
suspicious, and trusting no man, [1856]"They are afraid of tempests for
their corn; they are afraid of their friends lest they should ask something
of them, beg or borrow; they are afraid of their enemies lest they hurt
them, thieves lest they rob them; they are afraid of war and afraid of
peace, afraid of rich and afraid of poor; afraid of all." Last of all, they
are afraid of want, that they shall die beggars, which makes them lay up
still, and dare not use that they have: what if a dear year come, or
dearth, or some loss? and were it not that they are both to [1857]lay out
money on a rope, they would be hanged forthwith, and sometimes die to save
charges, and make away themselves, if their corn and cattle miscarry;
though they have abundance left, as [1858]Agellius notes. [1859]Valerius
makes mention of one that in a famine sold a mouse for 200 pence, and
famished himself: such are their cares, [1860]griefs and perpetual fears.
These symptoms are elegantly expressed by Theophrastus in his character of
a covetous man; [1861]"lying in bed, he asked his wife whether she shut the
trunks and chests fast, the cap-case be sealed, and whether the hall door
be bolted; and though she say all is well, he riseth out of his bed in his
shirt, barefoot and barelegged, to see whether it be so, with a dark
lantern searching every corner, scarce sleeping a wink all night." Lucian
in that pleasant and witty dialogue called Gallus, brings in Mycillus the
cobbler disputing with his cock, sometimes Pythagoras; where after much
speech pro and con, to prove the happiness of a mean estate, and
discontents of a rich man, Pythagoras' cock in the end, to illustrate by
examples that which he had said, brings him to Gnyphon the usurer's house
at midnight, and after that to Encrates; whom, they found both awake,
casting up their accounts, and telling of their money, [1862]lean, dry,
pale and anxious, still suspecting lest somebody should make a hole through
the wall, and so get in; or if a rat or mouse did but stir, starting upon a
sudden, and running to the door to see whether all were fast. Plautus, in
his Aulularia, makes old Euclio [1863]commanding Staphyla his wife to shut
the doors fast, and the fire to be put out, lest anybody should make that
an errand to come to his house: when he washed his hands, [1864]he was
loath to fling away the foul water, complaining that he was undone, because
the smoke got out of his roof. And as he went from home, seeing a crow
scratch upon the muck-hill, returned in all haste, taking it for _malum
omen_, an ill sign, his money was digged up; with many such. He that will
but observe their actions, shall find these and many such passages not
feigned for sport, but really performed, verified indeed by such covetous
and miserable wretches, and that it is,

[1865]  ------"manifesta phrenesis
        Ut locuples moriaris egenti vivere fato."

A mere madness, to live like a wretch, and die rich.

SUBSECT. XIII.--_Love of Gaming, &c. and pleasures immoderate; Causes_.

It is a wonder to see, how many poor, distressed, miserable wretches, one
shall meet almost in every path and street, begging for an alms, that have
been well descended, and sometimes in flourishing estate, now ragged,
tattered, and ready to be starved, lingering out a painful life, in
discontent and grief of body and mind, and all through immoderate lust,
gaming, pleasure and riot. 'Tis the common end of all sensual epicures and
brutish prodigals, that are stupefied and carried away headlong with their
several pleasures and lusts. Cebes in his table, St. Ambrose in his second
book of Abel and Cain, and amongst the rest Lucian in his tract _de Mercede
conductis_, hath excellent well deciphered such men's proceedings in his
picture of Opulentia, whom he feigns to dwell on the top of a high mount,
much sought after by many suitors; at their first coming they are generally
entertained by pleasure and dalliance, and have all the content that
possibly may be given, so long as their money lasts: but when their means
fail, they are contemptibly thrust out at a back door, headlong, and there
left to shame, reproach, despair. And he at first that had so many
attendants, parasites, and followers, young and lusty, richly arrayed, and
all the dainty fare that might be had, with all kind of welcome and good
respect, is now upon a sudden stripped of all, [1866]pale, naked, old,
diseased and forsaken, cursing his stars, and ready to strangle himself;
having no other company but repentance, sorrow, grief, derision, beggary,
and contempt, which are his daily attendants to his life's end. As the
[1867]prodigal son had exquisite music, merry company, dainty fare at
first; but a sorrowful reckoning in the end; so have all such vain delights
and their followers. [1868]_Tristes voluptatum exitus, et quisquis
voluptatum suarum reminisci volet, intelliget_, as bitter as gall and
wormwood is their last; grief of mind, madness itself. The ordinary rocks
upon which such men do impinge and precipitate themselves, are cards, dice,
hawks, and hounds, _Insanum venandi studium_, one calls it, _insanae
substructiones_: their mad structures, disports, plays, &c., when they are
unseasonably used, imprudently handled, and beyond their fortunes. Some men
are consumed by mad fantastical buildings, by making galleries, cloisters,
terraces, walks, orchards, gardens, pools, rillets, bowers, and such like
places of pleasure; _Inutiles domos_, [1869]Xenophon calls them, which
howsoever they be delightsome things in themselves, and acceptable to all
beholders, an ornament, and benefiting some great men: yet unprofitable to
others, and the sole overthrow of their estates. Forestus in his
observations hath an example of such a one that became melancholy upon the
like occasion, having consumed his substance in an unprofitable building,
which would afterward yield him no advantage. Others, I say, are [1870]
overthrown by those mad sports of hawking and hunting; honest recreations,
and fit for some great men, but not for every base inferior person; whilst
they will maintain their falconers, dogs, and hunting nags, their wealth,
saith [1871]Salmutze, "runs away with hounds, and their fortunes fly away
with hawks." They persecute beasts so long, till in the end they themselves
degenerate into beasts, as [1872]Agrippa taxeth them, [1873]Actaeon like,
for as he was eaten to death by his own dogs, so do they devour themselves
and their patrimonies, in such idle and unnecessary disports, neglecting in
the mean time their more necessary business, and to follow their vocations.
Over-mad too sometimes are our great men in delighting, and doting too much
on it. [1874]"When they drive poor husbandmen from their tillage," as
[1875]Sarisburiensis objects, _Polycrat. l. 1. c. 4_, "fling down country
farms, and whole towns, to make parks, and forests, starving men to feed
beasts, and [1876]punishing in the mean time such a man that shall molest
their game, more severely than him that is otherwise a common hacker, or a
notorious thief." But great men are some ways to be excused, the meaner
sort have no evasion why they should not be counted mad. Poggius the
Florentine tells a merry story to this purpose, condemning the folly and
impertinent business of such kind of persons. A physician of Milan, saith
he, that cured mad men, had a pit of water in his house, in which he kept
his patients, some up to the knees, some to the girdle, some to the chin,
_pro modo insaniae_, as they were more or less affected. One of them by
chance, that was well recovered, stood in the door, and seeing a gallant
ride by with a hawk on his fist, well mounted, with his spaniels after him,
would needs know to what use all this preparation served; he made answer to
kill certain fowls; the patient demanded again, what his fowl might be
worth which he killed in a year; he replied 5 or 10 crowns; and when he
urged him farther what his dogs, horse, and hawks stood him in, he told him
400 crowns; with that the patient bad be gone, as he loved his life and
welfare, for if our master come and find thee here, he will put thee in the
pit amongst mad men up to the chin: taxing the madness and folly of such
vain men that spend themselves in those idle sports, neglecting their
business and necessary affairs. Leo Decimus, that hunting pope, is much
discommended by [1877]Jovius in his life, for his immoderate desire of
hawking and hunting, in so much that (as he saith) he would sometimes live
about Ostia weeks and months together, leave suitors [1878]unrespected,
bulls and pardons unsigned, to his own prejudice, and many private men's
loss. [1879]"And if he had been by chance crossed in his sport, or his game
not so good, he was so impatient, that he would revile and miscall many
times men of great worth with most bitter taunts, look so sour, be so angry
and waspish, so grieved and molested, that it is incredible to relate it."
But if he had good sport, and been well pleased, on the other side,
_incredibili munificentia_, with unspeakable bounty and munificence he
would reward all his fellow hunters, and deny nothing to any suitor when he
was in that mood. To say truth, 'tis the common humour of all gamesters, as
Galataeus observes, if they win, no men living are so jovial and merry, but
[1880]if they lose, though it be but a trifle, two or three games at
tables, or a dealing at cards for two pence a game, they are so choleric
and testy that no man may speak with them, and break many times into
violent passions, oaths, imprecations, and unbeseeming speeches, little
differing from mad men for the time. Generally of all gamesters and gaming,
if it be excessive, thus much we may conclude, that whether they win or
lose for the present, their winnings are not _Munera fortunae, sed
insidiae_ as that wise Seneca determines, not fortune's gifts, but baits,
the common catastrophe is [1881]beggary, [1882]_Ut pestis vitam, sic adimit
alea pecuniam_, as the plague takes away life, doth gaming goods, for
[1883] _omnes nudi, inopes et egeni_;

[1884] "Alea Scylla vorax, species certissima furti,
        Non contenta bonis animum quoque perfida mergit,
        Foeda, furax, infamis, iners, furiosa, ruina."

For a little pleasure they take, and some small gains and gettings now and
then, their wives and children are ringed in the meantime, and they
themselves with loss of body and soul rue it in the end. I will say nothing
of those prodigious prodigals, _perdendae pecuniae, genitos_, as he [1885]
taxed Anthony, _Qui patrimonium sine ulla fori calumnia amittunt_, saith
[1886]Cyprian, and [1887]mad sybaritical spendthrifts, _Quique una comedunt
patrimonia coena_; that eat up all at a breakfast, at a supper, or amongst
bawds, parasites, and players, consume themselves in an instant, as if they
had flung it into [1888]Tiber, with great wages, vain and idle expenses,
&c., not themselves only, but even all their friends, as a man desperately
swimming drowns him that comes to help him, by suretyship and borrowing
they will willingly undo all their associates and allies. [1889] _Irati
pecuniis_, as he saith, angry with their money: [1890]"what with a wanton
eye, a liquorish tongue, and a gamesome hand," when they have indiscreetly
impoverished themselves, mortgaged their wits, together with their lands,
and entombed their ancestors' fair possessions in their bowels, they may
lead the rest of their days in prison, as many times they do; they repent
at leisure; and when all is gone begin to be thrifty: but _Sera est in
fundo parsimonia_, 'tis then too late to look about; their [1891]end is
misery, sorrow, shame, and discontent. And well they deserve to be infamous
and discontent. [1892]_Catamidiari in Amphitheatro_, as by Adrian the
emperor's edict they were of old, _decoctores bonorum suorum_, so he calls
them, prodigal fools, to be publicly shamed, and hissed out of all
societies, rather than to be pitied or relieved. [1893]The Tuscans and
Boetians brought their bankrupts into the marketplace in a bier with an
empty purse carried before them, all the boys following, where they sat all
day _circumstante plebe_, to be infamous and ridiculous. At [1894]Padua in
Italy they have a stone called the stone of turpitude, near the
senate-house, where spendthrifts, and such as disclaim non-payment of
debts, do sit with their hinder parts bare, that by that note of disgrace
others may be terrified from all such vain expense, or borrowing more than
they can tell how to pay. The [1895]civilians of old set guardians over
such brain-sick prodigals, as they did over madmen, to moderate their
expenses, that they should not so loosely consume their fortunes, to the
utter undoing of their families.

I may not here omit those two main plagues, and common dotages of human
kind, wine and women, which have infatuated and besotted myriads of people;
they go commonly together.

[1896] "Qui vino indulget, quemque aloa decoquit, ille
        In venerem putret"------

To whom is sorrow, saith Solomon, Pro. xxiii. 39, to whom is woe, but to
such a one as loves drink? it causeth torture, (_vino tortus et ira_) and
bitterness of mind, Sirac. 31. 21. _Vinum furoris_, Jeremy calls it, _15.
cap._ wine of madness, as well he may, for _insanire facit sanos_, it makes
sound men sick and sad, and wise men [1897]mad, to say and do they know not
what. _Accidit hodie terribilis casus_ (saith [1898]S. Austin) hear a
miserable accident; Cyrillus' son this day in his drink, _Matrem
praegnantem nequiter oppressit, sororem violare voluit, patrem occidit
fere, et duas alias sorores ad mortem vulneravit_, would have violated his
sister, killed his father, &c. A true saying it was of him, _Vino dari
laetitiam et dolorem_, drink causeth mirth, and drink causeth sorrow, drink
causeth "poverty and want," (Prov. xxi.) shame and disgrace. _Multi
ignobiles evasere ob vini potum, et_ (Austin) _amissis honoribus profugi
aberrarunt_: many men have made shipwreck of their fortunes, and go like
rogues and beggars, having turned all their substance into _aurum
potabile_, that otherwise might have lived in good worship and happy
estate, and for a few hours' pleasure, for their Hilary term's but short,
or [1899]free madness, as Seneca calls it, purchase unto themselves eternal
tediousness and trouble.

That other madness is on women, _Apostatare facit cor_, saith the wise man,
[1900]_Atque homini cerebrum minuit_. Pleasant at first she is, like
Dioscorides Rhododaphne, that fair plant to the eye, but poison to the
taste, the rest as bitter as wormwood in the end (Prov. v. 4.) and sharp as
a two-edged sword, (vii. 27.) "Her house is the way to hell, and goes down
to the chambers of death." What more sorrowful can be said? they are
miserable in this life, mad, beasts, led like [1901]"oxen to the
slaughter:" and that which is worse, whoremasters and drunkards shall be
judged, _amittunt gratiam_, saith Austin, _perdunt gloriam, incurrunt
damnationem aeternam_. They lose grace and glory;

[1902]  ------"brevis illa voluptas
        Abrogat aeternum caeli decus"------

they gain hell and eternal damnation.

SUBSECT. XIV.--_Philautia, or Self-love, Vainglory, Praise, Honour,
Immoderate Applause, Pride, overmuch Joy, &c., Causes_.

Self-love, pride, and vainglory, [1903]_caecus amor sui_, which Chrysostom
calls one of the devil's three great nets; [1904]"Bernard, an arrow which
pierceth the soul through, and slays it; a sly, insensible enemy, not
perceived," are main causes. Where neither anger, lust, covetousness, fear,
sorrow, &c., nor any other perturbation can lay hold; this will slyly and
insensibly pervert us, _Quem non gula vicit, Philautia, superavit_, (saith
Cyprian) whom surfeiting could not overtake, self-love hath overcome.
[1905]"He hath scorned all money, bribes, gifts, upright otherwise and
sincere, hath inserted himself to no fond imagination, and sustained all
those tyrannical concupiscences of the body, hath lost all his honour,
captivated by vainglory." Chrysostom, _sup. Io._ _Tu sola animum mentemque
peruris, gloria_. A great assault and cause of our present malady, although
we do most part neglect, take no notice of it, yet this is a violent
batterer of our souls, causeth melancholy and dotage. This pleasing humour;
this soft and whispering popular air, _Amabilis insania_; this delectable
frenzy, most irrefragable passion, _Mentis gratissimus error_, this
acceptable disease, which so sweetly sets upon us, ravisheth our senses,
lulls our souls asleep, puffs up our hearts as so many bladders, and that
without all feeling, [1906]insomuch as "those that are misaffected with it,
never so much as once perceive it, or think of any cure." We commonly love
him best in this [1907]malady, that doth us most harm, and are very willing
to be hurt; _adulationibus nostris libentur facemus_ (saith [1908] Jerome)
we love him, we love him for it: [1909]_O Bonciari suave, suave fuit a te
tali haec tribui_; 'Twas sweet to hear it. And as [1910]Pliny doth
ingenuously confess to his dear friend Augurinus, "all thy writings are
most acceptable, but those especially that speak of us." Again, a little
after to Maximus, [1911]"I cannot express how pleasing it is to me to hear
myself commended." Though we smile to ourselves, at least ironically, when
parasites bedaub us with false encomiums, as many princes cannot choose but
do, _Quum tale quid nihil intra se repererint_, when they know they come as
far short, as a mouse to an elephant, of any such virtues; yet it doth us
good. Though we seem many times to be angry, [1912] "and blush at our own
praises, yet our souls inwardly rejoice, it puffs us up;" 'tis _fallax
suavitas, blandus daemon_, "makes us swell beyond our bounds, and forget
ourselves." Her two daughters are lightness of mind, immoderate joy and
pride, not excluding those other concomitant vices, which [1913]Iodocus
Lorichius reckons up; bragging, hypocrisy, peevishness, and curiosity.

Now the common cause of this mischief, ariseth from ourselves or others,
[1914]we are active and passive. It proceeds inwardly from ourselves, as we
are active causes, from an overweening conceit we have of our good parts,
own worth, (which indeed is no worth) our bounty, favour, grace, valour,
strength, wealth, patience, meekness, hospitality, beauty, temperance,
gentry, knowledge, wit, science, art, learning, our [1915] excellent gifts
and fortunes, for which, Narcissus-like, we admire, flatter, and applaud
ourselves, and think all the world esteems so of us; and as deformed women
easily believe those that tell them they be fair, we are too credulous of
our own good parts and praises, too well persuaded of ourselves. We brag
and venditate our [1916]own works, and scorn all others in respect of us;
_Inflati scientia_, (saith Paul) our wisdom, [1917]our learning, all our
geese are swans, and we as basely esteem and vilify other men's, as we do
over-highly prize and value our own. We will not suffer them to be _in
secundis_, no, not _in tertiis_; what, _Mecum confertur Ulysses_? they are
_Mures, Muscae, culices prae se_, nits and flies compared to his inexorable
and supercilious, eminent and arrogant worship: though indeed they be far
before him. Only wise, only rich, only fortunate, valorous, and fair,
puffed up with this tympany of self-conceit; [1918]as that proud Pharisee,
they are not (as they suppose) "like other men," of a purer and more
precious metal: [1919]_Soli rei gerendi sunt efficaces_, which that wise
Periander held of such: [1920]_meditantur omne qui prius negotium_, &c.
_Novi quendam_ (saith [1921]Erasmus) I knew one so arrogant that he thought
himself inferior to no man living, like [1922]Callisthenes the philosopher,
that neither held Alexander's acts, or any other subject worthy of his pen,
such was his insolency; or Seleucus king of Syria, who thought none fit to
contend with him but the Romans. [1923]_Eos solos dignos ratus quibuscum de
imperio certaret_. That which Tully writ to Atticus long since, is still in
force. [1924]"There was never yet true poet nor orator, that thought any
other better than himself." And such for the most part are your princes,
potentates, great philosophers, historiographers, authors of sects or
heresies, and all our great scholars, as [1925]Hierom defines; "a natural
philosopher is a glorious creature, and a very slave of rumour, fame, and
popular opinion," and though they write _de contemptu gloriae_, yet as he
observes, they will put their names to their books. _Vobis et famae, me
semper dedi_, saith Trebellius Pollio, I have wholly consecrated myself to
you and fame. "'Tis all my desire, night and day, 'tis all my study to
raise my name." Proud [1926]Pliny seconds him; _Quamquam O_! &c. and that
vainglorious [1927]orator is not ashamed to confess in an Epistle of his to
Marcus Lecceius, _Ardeo incredibili cupididate_, &c. "I burn with an
incredible desire to have my [1928]name registered in thy book." Out of
this fountain proceed all those cracks and brags,--[1929]_speramus carmina
fingi Posse linenda cedro, et leni servanda cupresso_--[1930]_Non usitata
nec tenui ferar penna.--nec in terra morabor longius. Nil parvum aut humili
modo, nil mortale loquor. Dicar qua violens obstrepit Ausidus.--Exegi
monumentum aere perennius. Iamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec
ignis, &c. cum venit ille dies, &c. parte tamen meliore mei super alta
perennis astra ferar, nomenque erit indelebile nostrum_. (This of Ovid I
have paraphrased in English.)

       "And when I am dead and gone,
        My corpse laid under a stone
        My fame shall yet survive,
        And I shall be alive,
        In these my works for ever,
        My glory shall persever," &c.

And that of Ennius,

       "Nemo me lachrymis decoret, neque funera fletu
        Faxit, cur? volito docta per ora virum."

"Let none shed tears over me, or adorn my bier with sorrow--because I am
eternally in the mouths of men." With many such proud strains, and foolish
flashes too common with writers. Not so much as Democharis on the [1931]
Topics, but he will be immortal. _Typotius de fama_, shall be famous, and
well he deserves, because he writ of fame; and every trivial poet must be
renowned,--_Plausuque petit clarescere vulgi_. "He seeks the applause of
the public." This puffing humour it is, that hath produced so many great
tomes, built such famous monuments, strong castles, and Mausolean tombs, to
have their acts eternised,--_Digito monstrari, et dicier hic est_; "to be
pointed at with the finger, and to have it said 'there he goes,'" to see
their names inscribed, as Phryne on the walls of Thebes, _Phryne fecit_;
this causeth so many bloody battles,--_Et noctes cogit vigilare serenas_;
"and induces us to watch during calm nights." Long journeys, _Magnum iter
intendo, sed dat mihi gloria vires_, "I contemplate a monstrous journey,
but the love of glory strengthens me for it," gaining honour, a little
applause, pride, self-love, vainglory. This is it which makes them take
such pains, and break out into those ridiculous strains, this high conceit
of themselves, to [1932]scorn all others; _ridiculo fastu et intolerando
contemptu_; as [1933]Palaemon the grammarian contemned Varro, _secum et
natas et morituras literas jactans_, and brings them to that height of
insolency, that they cannot endure to be contradicted, [1934]"or hear of
anything but their own commendation," which Hierom notes of such kind of
men. And as [1935]Austin well seconds him, "'tis their sole study day and
night to be commended and applauded." When as indeed, in all wise men's
judgments, _quibus cor sapit_, they are [1936]mad, empty vessels, funges,
beside themselves, derided, _et ut Camelus in proverbio quaerens cornua,
etiam quas habebat aures amisit_, [1937]their works are toys, as an almanac
out of date, [1938]_authoris pereunt garrulitate sui_, they seek fame and
immortality, but reap dishonour and infamy, they are a common obloquy,
_insensati_, and come far short of that which they suppose or expect.
[1939]_O puer ut sis vitalis metuo_,

        ------"How much I dread
        Thy days are short, some lord shall strike thee dead."

Of so many myriads of poets, rhetoricians, philosophers, sophisters, as
[1940]Eusebius well observes, which have written in former ages, scarce one
of a thousand's works remains, _nomina et libri simul cum corporibus
interierunt_, their books and bodies are perished together. It is not as
they vainly think, they shall surely be admired and immortal, as one told
Philip of Macedon insultingly, after a victory, that his shadow was no
longer than before, we may say to them,

       "Nos demiramur, sed non cum deside vulgo,
        Sed velut Harpyas, Gorgonas, et Furias."

       "We marvel too, not as the vulgar we,
        But as we Gorgons, Harpies, or Furies see."

Or if we do applaud, honour and admire, _quota pars_, how small a part, in
respect of the whole world, never so much as hears our names, how few take
notice of us, how slender a tract, as scant as Alcibiades' land in a map!
And yet every man must and will be immortal, as he hopes, and extend his
fame to our antipodes, when as half, no not a quarter of his own province
or city, neither knows nor hears of him--but say they did, what's a city to
a kingdom, a kingdom to Europe, Europe to the world, the world itself that
must have an end, if compared to the least visible star in the firmament,
eighteen times bigger than it? and then if those stars be infinite, and
every star there be a sun, as some will, and as this sun of ours hath his
planets about him, all inhabited, what proportion bear we to them, and
where's our glory? _Orbem terrarum victor Romanus habebat_, as he cracked
in Petronius, all the world was under Augustus: and so in Constantine's
time, Eusebius brags he governed all the world, _universum mundum praeclare
admodum administravit,--et omnes orbis gentes Imperatori subjecti_: so of
Alexander it is given out, the four monarchies, &c. when as neither Greeks
nor Romans ever had the fifteenth part of the now known world, nor half of
that which was then described. What braggadocios are they and we then?
_quam brevis hic de nobis sermo_, as [1941]he said, [1942]_pudebit aucti
nominis_, how short a time, how little a while doth this fame of ours
continue? Every private province, every small territory and city, when we
have all done, will yield as generous spirits, as brave examples in all
respects, as famous as ourselves, Cadwallader in Wales, Rollo in Normandy,
Robin Hood and Little John, are as much renowned in Sherwood, as Caesar in
Rome, Alexander in Greece, or his Hephestion, [1943] _Omnis aetas omnisque
populus in exemplum et admirationem veniet_, every town, city, book, is
full of brave soldiers, senators, scholars; and though [1944]Bracyclas was
a worthy captain, a good man, and as they thought, not to be matched in
Lacedaemon, yet as his mother truly said, _plures habet Sparta Bracyda
meliores_, Sparta had many better men than ever he was; and howsoever thou
admirest thyself, thy friend, many an obscure fellow the world never took
notice of, had he been in place or action, would have done much better than
he or he, or thou thyself.

Another kind of mad men there is opposite to these, that are insensibly
mad, and know not of it, such as contemn all praise and glory, think
themselves most free, when as indeed they are most mad: _calcant sed alio
fastu_: a company of cynics, such as are monks, hermits, anchorites, that
contemn the world, contemn themselves, contemn all titles, honours,
offices: and yet in that contempt are more proud than any man living
whatsoever. They are proud in humility, proud in that they are not proud,
_saepe homo de vanae gloriae contemptu, vanius gloriatur_, as Austin hath
it, _confess. lib. 10, cap. 38_, like Diogenes, _intus gloriantur_, they
brag inwardly, and feed themselves fat with a self-conceit of sanctity,
which is no better than hypocrisy. They go in sheep's russet, many great
men that might maintain themselves in cloth of gold, and seem to be
dejected, humble by their outward carriage, when as inwardly they are
swollen full of pride, arrogancy, and self-conceit. And therefore Seneca
adviseth his friend Lucilius, [1945]"in his attire and gesture, outward
actions, especially to avoid all such things as are more notable in
themselves: as a rugged attire, hirsute head, horrid beard, contempt of
money, coarse lodging, and whatsoever leads to fame that opposite way."

All this madness yet proceeds from ourselves, the main engine which batters
us is from others, we are merely passive in this business: from a company
of parasites and flatterers, that with immoderate praise, and bombast
epithets, glossing titles, false eulogiums, so bedaub and applaud, gild
over many a silly and undeserving man, that they clap him quite out of his
wits. _Res imprimis violenta est_, as Hierom notes, this common applause is
a most violent thing, _laudum placenta_, a drum, fife, and trumpet cannot
so animate; that fattens men, erects and dejects them in an instant. [1946]
_Palma negata macrum, donata reducit opimum_. It makes them fat and lean,
as frost doth conies. [1947]"And who is that mortal man that can so contain
himself, that if he be immoderately commended and applauded, will not be
moved?" Let him be what he will, those parasites will overturn him: if he
be a king, he is one of the nine worthies, more than a man, a god
forthwith,--[1948]_edictum Domini Deique nostri_: and they will sacrifice
unto him,

[1949]  ------"divinos si tu patiaris honores,
        Ultro ipsi dabimus meritasque sacrabimus aras."

If he be a soldier, then Themistocles, Epaminondas, Hector, Achilles, _duo
fulmina belli, triumviri terrarum_, &c., and the valour of both Scipios is
too little for him, he is _invictissimus, serenissimus, multis trophaeus
ornatissimus, naturae, dominus_, although he be _lepus galeatus_, indeed a
very coward, a milk-sop, [1950]and as he said of Xerxes, _postremus in
pugna, primus in fuga_, and such a one as never durst look his enemy in the
face. If he be a big man, then is he a Samson, another Hercules; if he
pronounce a speech, another Tully or Demosthenes; as of Herod in the Acts,
"the voice of God and not of man:" if he can make a verse, Homer, Virgil,
&c., And then my silly weak patient takes all these eulogiums to himself;
if he be a scholar so commended for his much reading, excellent style,
method, &c., he will eviscerate himself like a spider, study to death,
_Laudatas ostendit avis Junonia pennas_, peacock-like he will display all
his feathers. If he be a soldier, and so applauded, his valour extolled,
though it be _impar congressus_, as that of Troilus and Achilles, _Infelix
puer_, he will combat with a giant, run first upon a breach, as another
[1951]Philippus, he will ride into the thickest of his enemies. Commend his
housekeeping, and he will beggar himself; commend his temperance, he will
starve himself.

        ------"laudataque virtus
        Crescit, et immensum gloria calcar habet."[1952]

he is mad, mad, mad, no woe with him:--_impatiens consortis erit_, he will
over the [1953]Alps to be talked of, or to maintain his credit. Commend an
ambitious man, some proud prince or potentate, _si plus aequo laudetur_
(saith [1954]Erasmus) _cristas erigit, exuit hominem, Deum se putat_, he
sets up his crest, and will be no longer a man but a God.

[1955]  ------"nihil est quod credere de se
        Non audet quum laudatur diis aequa potestas."[1956]

How did this work with Alexander, that would needs be Jupiter's son, and go
like Hercules in a lion's skin? Domitian a god, [1957](_Dominus Deus noster
sic fieri jubet_,) like the [1958]Persian kings, whose image was adored by
all that came into the city of Babylon. Commodus the emperor was so gulled
by his flattering parasites, that he must be called Hercules.
[1959]Antonius the Roman would be crowned with ivy, carried in a chariot,
and adored for Bacchus. Cotys, king of Thrace, was married to [1960]
Minerva, and sent three several messengers one after another, to see if she
were come to his bedchamber. Such a one was [1961]Jupiter Menecrates,
Maximinus, Jovianus, Dioclesianus Herculeus, Sapor the Persian king,
brother of the sun and moon, and our modern Turks, that will be gods on
earth, kings of kings, God's shadow, commanders of all that may be
commanded, our kings of China and Tartary in this present age. Such a one
was Xerxes, that would whip the sea, fetter Neptune, _stulta jactantia_,
and send a challenge to Mount Athos; and such are many sottish princes,
brought into a fool's paradise by their parasites, 'tis a common humour,
incident to all men, when they are in great places, or come to the solstice
of honour, have done, or deserved well, to applaud and flatter themselves.
_Stultitiam suam produnt_, &c., (saith [1962]Platerus) your very tradesmen
if they be excellent, will crack and brag, and show their folly in excess.
They have good parts, and they know it, you need not tell them of it; out
of a conceit of their worth, they go smiling to themselves, a perpetual
meditation of their trophies and plaudits, they run at last quite mad, and
lose their wits. [1963]Petrarch, _lib. 1 de contemptu mundi_, confessed as
much of himself, and Cardan, in his fifth book of wisdom, gives an instance
in a smith of Milan, a fellow-citizen of his, [1964]one Galeus de Rubeis,
that being commended for refining of an instrument of Archimedes, for joy
ran mad. Plutarch in the life of Artaxerxes, hath such a like story of one
Chamus, a soldier, that wounded king Cyrus in battle, and "grew thereupon
so [1965]arrogant, that in a short space after he lost his wits." So many
men, if any new honour, office, preferment, booty, treasure, possession, or
patrimony, _ex insperato_ fall unto them for immoderate joy, and continual
meditation of it, cannot sleep [1966]or tell what they say or do, they are
so ravished on a sudden; and with vain conceits transported, there is no
rule with them. Epaminondas, therefore, the next day after his Leuctrian
victory, [1967]"came abroad all squalid and submiss," and gave no other
reason to his friends of so doing, than that he perceived himself the day
before, by reason of his good fortune, to be too insolent, overmuch joyed.
That wise and virtuous lady, [1968]Queen Katherine, Dowager of England, in
private talk, upon like occasion, said, that [1969]"she would not willingly
endure the extremity of either fortune; but if it were so, that of
necessity she must undergo the one, she would be in adversity, because
comfort was never wanting in it, but still counsel and government were
defective in the other:" they could not moderate themselves.

SUBSECT. XV.--_Love of Learning, or overmuch study. With a Digression of
the misery of Scholars, and why the Muses are Melancholy_.

Leonartus Fuchsius _Instit. lib. iii. sect. 1. cap. 1._ Felix Plater, _lib.
iii. de mentis alienat_. Herc. de Saxonia, _Tract. post. de melanch. cap.
3_, speak of a [1970]peculiar fury, which comes by overmuch study.
Fernelius, _lib. 1, cap. 18_, [1971]puts study, contemplation, and
continual meditation, as an especial cause of madness: and in his _86
consul._ cites the same words. Jo. Arculanus, _in lib. 9, Rhasis ad
Alnansorem, cap. 16_, amongst other causes reckons up _studium vehemens_:
so doth Levinus Lemnius, _lib. de occul. nat. mirac. lib. 1, cap. 16._
[1972]"Many men" (saith he) "come to this malady by continual [1973]study,
and night-waking, and of all other men, scholars are most subject to it:"
and such Rhasis adds, [1974]"that have commonly the finest wits." _Cont.
lib. 1, tract. 9_, Marsilius Ficinus, _de sanit. tuenda, lib. 1. cap. 7_,
puts melancholy amongst one of those five principal plagues of students,
'tis a common Maul unto them all, and almost in some measure an inseparable
companion. Varro belike for that cause calls _Tristes Philosophos et
severos_, severe, sad, dry, tetric, are common epithets to scholars: and
[1975]Patritius therefore, in the institution of princes, would not have
them to be great students. For (as Machiavel holds) study weakens their
bodies, dulls the spirits, abates their strength and courage; and good
scholars are never good soldiers, which a certain Goth well perceived, for
when his countrymen came into Greece, and would have burned all their
books, he cried out against it, by no means they should do it, [1976]
"leave them that plague, which in time will consume all their vigour, and
martial spirits." The [1977]Turks abdicated Cornutus the next heir from the
empire, because he was so much given to his book: and 'tis the common tenet
of the world, that learning dulls and diminisheth the spirits, and so _per
consequens_ produceth melancholy.

Two main reasons may be given of it, why students should be more subject to
this malady than others. The one is, they live a sedentary, solitary life,
_sibi et musis_, free from bodily exercise, and those ordinary disports
which other men use: and many times if discontent and idleness concur with
it, which is too frequent, they are precipitated into this gulf on a
sudden: but the common cause is overmuch study; too much learning (as
[1978]Festus told Paul) hath made thee mad; 'tis that other extreme which
effects it. So did Trincavelius, _lib. 1, consil. 12 and 13_, find by his
experience, in two of his patients, a young baron, and another that
contracted this malady by too vehement study. So Forestus, _observat. l.
10, observ. 13_, in a young divine in Louvain, that was mad, and said
[1979]"he had a Bible in his head:" Marsilius Ficinus _de sanit. tuend.
lib. 1, cap. 1, 3, 4_, and _lib. 2, cap. 16_, gives many reasons, [1980]
"why students dote more often than others." The first is their negligence;
[1981]"other men look to their tools, a painter will wash his pencils, a
smith will look to his hammer, anvil, forge; a husbandman will mend his
plough-irons, and grind his hatchet if it be dull; a falconer or huntsman
will have an especial care of his hawks, hounds, horses, dogs, &c.; a
musician will string and unstring his lute, &c.; only scholars neglect that
instrument, their brain and spirits (I mean) which they daily use, and by
which they range overall the world, which by much study is consumed."
_Vide_ (saith Lucian) _ne funiculum nimis intendendo aliquando abrumpas_:
"See thou twist not the rope so hard, till at length it [1982]break."
Facinus in his fourth chap. gives some other reasons; Saturn and Mercury,
the patrons of learning, they are both dry planets: and Origanus assigns
the same cause, why Mercurialists are so poor, and most part beggars; for
that their president Mercury had no better fortune himself. The destinies
of old put poverty upon him as a punishment; since when, poetry and beggary
are Gemelli, twin-born brats, inseparable companions;

[1983] "And to this day is every scholar poor;
        Gross gold from them runs headlong to the boor:"

Mercury can help them to knowledge, but not to money. The second is
contemplation, [1984]"which dries the brain and extinguisheth natural heat;
for whilst the spirits are intent to meditation above in the head, the
stomach and liver are left destitute, and thence come black blood and
crudities by defect of concoction, and for want of exercise the superfluous
vapours cannot exhale," &c. The same reasons are repeated by Gomesius,
_lib. 4, cap. 1, de sale_ [1985]Nymannus _orat. de Imag._ Jo. Voschius,
_lib. 2, cap. 5, de peste_: and something more they add, that hard students
are commonly troubled with gouts, catarrhs, rheums, cachexia, bradiopepsia,
bad eyes, stone and colic, [1986]crudities, oppilations, vertigo, winds,
consumptions, and all such diseases as come by overmuch sitting; they are
most part lean, dry, ill-coloured, spend their fortunes, lose their wits,
and many times their lives, and all through immoderate pains, and
extraordinary studies. If you will not believe the truth of this, look upon
great Tostatus and Thomas Aquinas's works, and tell me whether those men
took pains? peruse Austin, Hierom, &c., and many thousands besides.

       "Qui cupit optatam cursu contingere metam,
        Multa tulit, fecitque puer, sudavit et alsit."

       "He that desires this wished goal to gain,
        Must sweat and freeze before he can attain,"

and labour hard for it. So did Seneca, by his own confession, _ep. 8._
[1987]"Not a day that I spend idle, part of the night I keep mine eyes
open, tired with waking, and now slumbering to their continual task." Hear
Tully _pro Archia Poeta_: "whilst others loitered, and took their
pleasures, he was continually at his book," so they do that will be
scholars, and that to the hazard (I say) of their healths, fortunes, wits,
and lives. How much did Aristotle and Ptolemy spend? _unius regni precium_
they say, more than a king's ransom; how many crowns per annum, to perfect
arts, the one about his History of Creatures, the other on his Almagest?
How much time did Thebet Benchorat employ, to find out the motion of the
eighth sphere? forty years and more, some write: how many poor scholars
have lost their wits, or become dizzards, neglecting all worldly affairs
and their own health, wealth, _esse_ and _bene esse_, to gain knowledge for
which, after all their pains, in this world's esteem they are accounted
ridiculous and silly fools, idiots, asses, and (as oft they are) rejected,
contemned, derided, doting, and mad. Look for examples in Hildesheim
_spicel. 2, de mania et delirio_: read Trincavellius, _l. 3. consil. 36, et
c. 17._ Montanus, _consil. 233._ [1988]Garceus _de Judic. genit. cap. 33._
Mercurialis, _consil. 86, cap. 25._ Prosper [1989]Calenius in his Book _de
atra bile_; Go to Bedlam and ask. Or if they keep their wits, yet they are
esteemed scrubs and fools by reason of their carriage: "after seven years'

        ------"statua, taciturnius exit,
        Plerumque et risum populi quatit."------

"He becomes more silent than a statue, and generally excites people's
laughter." Because they cannot ride a horse, which every clown can do;
salute and court a gentlewoman, carve at table, cringe and make conges,
which every common swasher can do, [1990]_hos populus ridet_, &c., they are
laughed to scorn, and accounted silly fools by our gallants. Yea, many
times, such is their misery, they deserve it: [1991]a mere scholar, a mere

[1992] "Obstipo capite, et figentes lumine terram,
        Murmura cum secum, et rabiosa silentia rodunt,
        Atque experrecto trutinantur verba labello,
        Aegroti veteris meditantes somnia, gigni
        De nihilo nihilum; in nihilum nil posse reverti."

[1993]  ------"who do lean awry
        Their heads, piercing the earth with a fixt eye;
        When, by themselves, they gnaw their murmuring,
        And furious silence, as 'twere balancing
        Each word upon their out-stretched lip, and when
        They meditate the dreams of old sick men,
        As, 'Out of nothing, nothing can be brought;
        And that which is, can ne'er be turn'd to nought.'"

Thus they go commonly meditating unto themselves, thus they sit, such is
their action and gesture. Fulgosus, _l. 8, c. 7_, makes mention how Th.
Aquinas supping with king Lewis of France, upon a sudden knocked his fist
upon the table, and cried, _conclusum est contra Manichaeos_, his wits were
a wool-gathering, as they say, and his head busied about other matters,
when he perceived his error, he was much [1994]abashed. Such a story there
is of Archimedes in Vitruvius, that having found out the means to know how
much gold was mingled with the silver in king Hieron's crown, ran naked
forth of the bath and cried [Greek: heuraeka], I have found: [1995]"and was
commonly so intent to his studies, that he never perceived what was done
about him: when the city was taken, and the soldiers now ready to rifle his
house, he took no notice of it." St. Bernard rode all day long by the
Lemnian lake, and asked at last where he was, Marullus, _lib. 2, cap. 4._
It was Democritus's carriage alone that made the Abderites suppose him to
have been mad, and send for Hippocrates to cure him: if he had been in any
solemn company, he would upon all occasions fall a laughing. Theophrastus
saith as much of Heraclitus, for that he continually wept, and Laertius of
Menedemus Lampsacus, because he ran like a madman, [1996]saying, "he came
from hell as a spy, to tell the devils what mortal men did." Your greatest
students are commonly no better, silly, soft fellows in their outward
behaviour, absurd, ridiculous to others, and no whit experienced in worldly
business; they can measure the heavens, range over the world, teach others
wisdom, and yet in bargains and contracts they are circumvented by every
base tradesman. Are not these men fools? and how should they be otherwise,
"but as so many sots in schools, when" (as [1997]he well observed) "they
neither hear nor see such things as are commonly practised abroad?" how
should they get experience, by what means? [1998]"I knew in my time many
scholars," saith Aeneas Sylvius (in an epistle of his to Gasper Scitick,
chancellor to the emperor), "excellent well learned, but so rude, so silly,
that they had no common civility, nor knew how to manage their domestic or
public affairs." "Paglarensis was amazed, and said his farmer had surely
cozened him, when he heard him tell that his sow had eleven pigs, and his
ass had but one foal." To say the best of this profession, I can give no
other testimony of them in general, than that of Pliny of Isaeus; [1999]"He
is yet a scholar, than which kind of men there is nothing so simple, so
sincere, none better, they are most part harmless, honest, upright,
innocent, plain-dealing men."

Now because they are commonly subject to such hazards and inconveniences as
dotage, madness, simplicity, &c. Jo. Voschius would have good scholars to
be highly rewarded, and had in some extraordinary respect above other men,
"to have greater [2000]privileges than the rest, that adventure themselves
and abbreviate their lives for the public good." But our patrons of
learning are so far nowadays from respecting the muses, and giving that
honour to scholars, or reward which they deserve, and are allowed by those
indulgent privileges of many noble princes, that after all their pains
taken in the universities, cost and charge, expenses, irksome hours,
laborious tasks, wearisome days, dangers, hazards, (barred interim from all
pleasures which other men have, mewed up like hawks all their lives) if
they chance to wade through them, they shall in the end be rejected,
contemned, and which is their greatest misery, driven to their shifts,
exposed to want, poverty, and beggary. Their familiar attendants are,

[2001] "Pallentes morbi, luctus, curaeque laborque
        Et metus, et malesuada fames, et turpis egestas,
        Terribiles visu formae"------

       "Grief, labour, care, pale sickness, miseries,
        Fear, filthy poverty, hunger that cries,
        Terrible monsters to be seen with eyes."

If there were nothing else to trouble them, the conceit of this alone were
enough to make them all melancholy. Most other trades and professions,
after some seven years' apprenticeship, are enabled by their craft to live
of themselves. A merchant adventures his goods at sea, and though his
hazard be great, yet if one ship return of four, he likely makes a saving
voyage. An husbandman's gains are almost certain; _quibus ipse Jupiter
nocere non potest_ (whom Jove himself can't harm) ('tis [2002]Cato's
hyperbole, a great husband himself); only scholars methinks are most
uncertain, unrespected, subject to all casualties, and hazards. For first,
not one of a many proves to be a scholar, all are not capable and docile,
[2003]_ex omniligno non fit Mercurius_: we can make majors and officers
every year, but not scholars: kings can invest knights and barons, as
Sigismund the emperor confessed; universities can give degrees; and _Tu
quod es, e populo quilibet esse potest_; but he nor they, nor all the
world, can give learning, make philosophers, artists, orators, poets; we
can soon say, as Seneca well notes, _O virum bonum, o divitem_, point at a
rich man, a good, a happy man, a prosperous man, _sumptuose vestitum,
Calamistratum, bene olentem, magno temporis impendio constat haec laudatio,
o virum literarum_, but 'tis not so easily performed to find out a learned
man. Learning is not so quickly got, though they may be willing to take
pains, to that end sufficiently informed, and liberally maintained by their
patrons and parents, yet few can compass it. Or if they be docile, yet all
men's wills are not answerable to their wits, they can apprehend, but will
not take pains; they are either seduced by bad companions, _vel in puellam
impingunt, vel in poculum_ (they fall in with women or wine) and so spend
their time to their friends' grief and their own undoings. Or put case they
be studious, industrious, of ripe wits, and perhaps good capacities, then
how many diseases of body and mind must they encounter? No labour in the
world like unto study. It may be, their temperature will not endure it, but
striving to be excellent to know all, they lose health, wealth, wit, life
and all. Let him yet happily escape all these hazards, _aereis intestinis_
with a body of brass, and is now consummate and ripe, he hath profited in
his studies, and proceeded with all applause: after many expenses, he is
fit for preferment, where shall he have it? he is as far to seek it as he
was (after twenty years' standing) at the first day of his coming to the
University. For what course shall he take, being now capable and ready? The
most parable and easy, and about which many are employed, is to teach a
school, turn lecturer or curate, and for that he shall have falconer's
wages, ten pound per annum, and his diet, or some small stipend, so long as
he can please his patron or the parish; if they approve him not (for
usually they do but a year or two) as inconstant, as [2004]they that cried
"Hosanna" one day, and "Crucify him" the other; serving-man-like, he must
go look a new master; if they do, what is his reward?

[2005] "Hoc quoque te manet ut pueros elementa docentem
        Occupet extremis in vicis alba senectus."

       "At last thy snow-white age in suburb schools,
        Shall toil in teaching boys their grammar rules."

Like an ass, he wears out his time for provender, and can show a stump rod,
_togam tritam et laceram_ saith [2006]Haedus, an old torn gown, an ensign
of his infelicity, he hath his labour for his pain, a modicum to keep him
till he be decrepit, and that is all. _Grammaticus non est felix_, &c. If
he be a trencher chaplain in a gentleman's house, as it befell [2007]
Euphormio, after some seven years' service, he may perchance have a living
to the halves, or some small rectory with the mother of the maids at
length, a poor kinswoman, or a cracked chambermaid, to have and to hold
during the time of his life. But if he offend his good patron, or displease
his lady mistress in the mean time,

[2008] "Ducetur Planta velut ictus ab Hercule Cacus,
        Poneturque foras, si quid tentaverit unquam

as Hercules did by Cacus, he shall be dragged forth of doors by the heels,
away with him. If he bend his forces to some other studies, with an intent
to be _a secretis_ to some nobleman, or in such a place with an ambassador,
he shall find that these persons rise like apprentices one under another,
and in so many tradesmen's shops, when the master is dead, the foreman of
the shop commonly steps in his place. Now for poets, rhetoricians,
historians, philosophers, [2009]mathematicians, sophisters, &c.; they are
like grasshoppers, sing they must in summer, and pine in the winter, for
there is no preferment for them. Even so they were at first, if you will
believe that pleasant tale of Socrates, which he told fair Phaedrus under a
plane-tree, at the banks of the river Iseus; about noon when it was hot,
and the grasshoppers made a noise, he took that sweet occasion to tell him
a tale, how grasshoppers were once scholars, musicians, poets, &c., before
the Muses were born, and lived without meat and drink, and for that cause
were turned by Jupiter into grasshoppers. And may be turned again, _In
Tythoni Cicadas, aut Lyciorum ranas_, for any reward I see they are like to
have: or else in the mean time, I would they could live, as they did,
without any viaticum, like so many [2010]manucodiatae, those Indian birds
of paradise, as we commonly call them, those I mean that live with the air
and dew of heaven, and need no other food; for being as they are, their
[2011]"rhetoric only serves them to curse their bad fortunes," and many of
them for want of means are driven to hard shifts; from grasshoppers they
turn humble-bees and wasps, plain parasites, and make the muses, mules, to
satisfy their hunger-starved paunches, and get a meal's meat. To say truth,
'tis the common fortune of most scholars, to be servile and poor, to
complain pitifully, and lay open their wants to their respectless patrons,
as [2012]Cardan doth, as [2013]Xilander and many others: and which is too
common in those dedicatory epistles, for hope of gain, to lie, flatter, and
with hyperbolical eulogiums and commendations, to magnify and extol an
illiterate unworthy idiot, for his excellent virtues, whom they should
rather, as [2014]Machiavel observes, vilify, and rail at downright for his
most notorious villainies and vices. So they prostitute themselves as
fiddlers, or mercenary tradesmen, to serve great men's turns for a small
reward. They are like [2015]Indians, they have store of gold, but know not
the worth of it: for I am of Synesius's opinion, [2016]"King Hieron got
more by Simonides' acquaintance, than Simonides did by his;" they have
their best education, good institution, sole qualification from us, and
when they have done well, their honour and immortality from us: we are the
living tombs, registers, and as so many trumpeters of their fames: what was
Achilles without Homer? Alexander without Arian and Curtius? who had known
the Caesars, but for Suetonius and Dion?

[2017] "Vixerunt fortes ante Agamemnona
        Multi: sed omnes illachrymabiles
        Urgentur, ignotique longa
        Nocte, carent quia vate sacro."

       "Before great Agamemnon reign'd,
          Reign'd kings as great as he, and brave,
        Whose huge ambition's now contain'd
          In the small compass of a grave:"

       "In endless night, they sleep, unwept, unknown,
        No bard they had to make all time their own."

they are more beholden to scholars, than scholars to them; but they
undervalue themselves, and so by those great men are kept down. Let them
have that encyclopaedian, all the learning in the world; they must keep it
to themselves, [2018]"live in base esteem, and starve, except they will
submit," as Budaeus well hath it, "so many good parts, so many ensigns of
arts, virtues, be slavishly obnoxious to some illiterate potentate, and
live under his insolent worship, or honour, like parasites," _Qui tanquam
mures alienum panem comedunt_. For to say truth, _artes hae, non sunt
Lucrativae_, as Guido Bonat that great astrologer could foresee, they be
not gainful arts these, _sed esurientes et famelicae_, but poor and hungry.

[2019] "Dat Galenus opes, dat Justinianus honores,
          Sed genus et species cogitur ire pedes:"

       "The rich physician, honour'd lawyers ride,
        Whilst the poor scholar foots it by their side."

Poverty is the muses' patrimony, and as that poetical divinity teacheth us,
when Jupiter's daughters were each of them married to the gods, the muses
alone were left solitary, Helicon forsaken of all suitors, and I believe it
was, because they had no portion.

       "Calliope longum caelebs cur vixit in aevum?
          Nempe nihil dotis, quod numeraret, erat."

       "Why did Calliope live so long a maid?
        Because she had no dowry to be paid."

Ever since all their followers are poor, forsaken and left unto themselves.
Insomuch, that as [2020]Petronius argues, you shall likely know them by
their clothes. "There came," saith he, "by chance into my company, a fellow
not very spruce to look on, that I could perceive by that note alone he was
a scholar, whom commonly rich men hate: I asked him what he was, he
answered, a poet: I demanded again why he was so ragged, he told me this
kind of learning never made any man rich."

[2021] "Qui Pelago credit, magno se faenore tollit,
        Qui pugnas et rostra petit, praecingitur auro:
        Vilis adulator picto jacet ebrius ostro,
        Sola pruinosis horret facundia pannis."

       "A merchant's gain is great, that goes to sea;
          A soldier embossed all in gold;
        A flatterer lies fox'd in brave array;
          A scholar only ragged to behold."

All which our ordinary students, right well perceiving in the universities,
how unprofitable these poetical, mathematical, and philosophical studies
are, how little respected, how few patrons; apply themselves in all haste
to those three commodious professions of law, physic, and divinity, sharing
themselves between them, [2022]rejecting these arts in the mean time,
history, philosophy, philology, or lightly passing them over, as pleasant
toys fitting only table-talk, and to furnish them with discourse. They are
not so behoveful: he that can tell his money hath arithmetic enough: he is
a true geometrician, can measure out a good fortune to himself; a perfect
astrologer, that can cast the rise and fall of others, and mark their
errant motions to his own use. The best optics are, to reflect the beams of
some great man's favour and grace to shine upon him. He is a good engineer
that alone can make an instrument to get preferment. This was the common
tenet and practice of Poland, as Cromerus observed not long since, in the
first book of his history; their universities were generally base, not a
philosopher, a mathematician, an antiquary, &c., to be found of any note
amongst them, because they had no set reward or stipend, but every man
betook himself to divinity, _hoc solum in votis habens, opimum
sacerdotium_, a good parsonage was their aim. This was the practice of some
of our near neighbours, as [2023]Lipsius inveighs, "they thrust their
children to the study of law and divinity, before they be informed aright,
or capable of such studies." _Scilicet omnibus artibus antistat spes lucri,
et formosior est cumulus auri, quam quicquid Graeci Latinique delirantes
scripserunt. Ex hoc numero deinde veniunt ad gubernacula reipub. intersunt
et praesunt consiliis regum, o pater, o patria_? so he complained, and so
may others. For even so we find, to serve a great man, to get an office in
some bishop's court (to practise in some good town) or compass a benefice,
is the mark we shoot at, as being so advantageous, the highway to

Although many times, for aught I can see, these men fail as often as the
rest in their projects, and are as usually frustrate of their hopes. For
let him be a doctor of the law, an excellent civilian of good worth, where
shall he practise and expatiate? Their fields are so scant, the civil law
with us so contracted with prohibitions, so few causes, by reason of those
all-devouring municipal laws, _quibus nihil illiteratius_, saith [2024]
Erasmus, an illiterate and a barbarous study, (for though they be never so
well learned in it, I can hardly vouchsafe them the name of scholars,
except they be otherwise qualified) and so few courts are left to that
profession, such slender offices, and those commonly to be compassed at
such dear rates, that I know not how an ingenious man should thrive amongst
them. Now for physicians, there are in every village so many mountebanks,
empirics, quacksalvers, Paracelsians, as they call themselves, _Caucifici
et sanicidae_ so [2025]Clenard terms them, wizards, alchemists, poor
vicars, cast apothecaries, physicians' men, barbers, and good wives,
professing great skill, that I make great doubt how they shall be
maintained, or who shall be their patients. Besides, there are so many of
both sorts, and some of them such harpies, so covetous, so clamorous, so
impudent; and as [2026]he said, litigious idiots,

       "Quibus loquacis affatim arrogantiae est
          Pentiae parum aut nihil,
        Nec ulla mica literarii salis,
          Crumenimulga natio:
        Loquuteleia turba, litium strophae,
          Maligna litigantium cohors, togati vultures,"

       "Lavernae alumni, Agyrtae," &c.

       "Which have no skill but prating arrogance,
          No learning, such a purse-milking nation:
        Gown'd vultures, thieves, and a litigious rout
          Of cozeners, that haunt this occupation,"

that they cannot well tell how to live one by another, but as he jested in
the Comedy of Clocks, they were so many, [2027]_major pars populi arida
reptant fame_, they are almost starved a great part of them, and ready to
devour their fellows, [2028]_Et noxia callidilate se corripere_, such a
multitude of pettifoggers and empirics, such impostors, that an honest man
knows not in what sort to compose and behave himself in their society, to
carry himself with credit in so vile a rout, _scientiae nomen, tot
sumptibus partum et vigiliis, profiteri dispudeat, postquam_, &c.

Last of all to come to our divines, the most noble profession and worthy of
double honour, but of all others the most distressed and miserable. If you
will not believe me, hear a brief of it, as it was not many years since
publicly preached at Paul's cross, [2029]by a grave minister then, and now
a reverend bishop of this land: "We that are bred up in learning, and
destinated by our parents to this end, we suffer our childhood in the
grammar-school, which Austin calls _magnam tyrannidem, et grave malum_, and
compares it to the torments of martyrdom; when we come to the university,
if we live of the college allowance, as Phalaris objected to the Leontines,
[Greek: pan ton endeis plaen limou kai phobou], needy of all things but
hunger and fear, or if we be maintained but partly by our parents' cost, do
expend in unnecessary maintenance, books and degrees, before we come to any
perfection, five hundred pounds, or a thousand marks. If by this price of
the expense of time, our bodies and spirits, our substance and patrimonies,
we cannot purchase those small rewards, which are ours by law, and the
right of inheritance, a poor parsonage, or a vicarage of 50_l._ per annum,
but we must pay to the patron for the lease of a life (a spent and out-worn
life) either in annual pension, or above the rate of a copyhold, and that
with the hazard and loss of our souls, by simony and perjury, and the
forfeiture of all our spiritual preferments, in _esse_ and _posse_, both
present and to come. What father after a while will be so improvident to
bring up his son to his great charge, to this necessary beggary? What
Christian will be so irreligious, to bring up his son in that course of
life, which by all probability and necessity, _cogit ad turpia_, enforcing
to sin, will entangle him in simony and perjury, when as the poet said,
_Invitatus ad haec aliquis de ponte negabit_: a beggar's brat taken from
the bridge where he sits a begging, if he knew the inconvenience, had cause
to refuse it." This being thus, have not we fished fair all this while,
that are initiate divines, to find no better fruits of our labours, [2030]
_hoc est cur palles, cur quis non prandeat hoc est_? do we macerate
ourselves for this? Is it for this we rise so early all the year long?
[2031]"Leaping" (as he saith) "out of our beds, when we hear the bell ring,
as if we had heard a thunderclap." If this be all the respect, reward and
honour we shall have, [2032]_frange leves calamos, et scinde Thalia
libellos_: let us give over our books, and betake ourselves to some other
course of life; to what end should we study? [2033]_Quid me litterulas
stulti docuere parentes_, what did our parents mean to make us scholars, to
be as far to seek of preferment after twenty years' study, as we were at
first: why do we take such pains? _Quid tantum insanis juvat impallescere
chartis_? If there be no more hope of reward, no better encouragement, I
say again, _Frange leves calamos, et scinde Thalia libellos_; let's turn
soldiers, sell our books, and buy swords, guns, and pikes, or stop bottles
with them, turn our philosopher's gowns, as Cleanthes once did, into
millers' coats, leave all and rather betake ourselves to any other course
of life, than to continue longer in this misery. [2034]_Praestat
dentiscalpia radere, quam literariis monumentis magnatum favorem

Yea, but methinks I hear some man except at these words, that though this
be true which I have said of the estate of scholars, and especially of
divines, that it is miserable and distressed at this time, that the church
suffers shipwreck of her goods, and that they have just cause to complain;
there is a fault, but whence proceeds it? If the cause were justly
examined, it would be retorted upon ourselves, if we were cited at that
tribunal of truth, we should be found guilty, and not able to excuse it
That there is a fault among us, I confess, and were there not a buyer,
there would not be a seller; but to him that will consider better of it, it
will more than manifestly appear, that the fountain of these miseries
proceeds from these griping patrons. In accusing them, I do not altogether
excuse us; both are faulty, they and we: yet in my judgment, theirs is the
greater fault, more apparent causes and much to be condemned. For my part,
if it be not with me as I would, or as it should, I do ascribe the cause,
as [2035]Cardan did in the like case; _meo infortunio potius quam illorum
sceleri_, to [2036]mine own infelicity rather than their naughtiness:
although I have been baffled in my time by some of them, and have as just
cause to complain as another: or rather indeed to mine own negligence; for
I was ever like that Alexander in [2037]Plutarch, Crassus his tutor in
philosophy, who, though he lived many years familiarly with rich Crassus,
was even as poor when from, (which many wondered at) as when he came first
to him; he never asked, the other never gave him anything; when he
travelled with Crassus he borrowed a hat of him, at his return restored it
again. I have had some such noble friends' acquaintance and scholars, but
most part (common courtesies and ordinary respects excepted) they and I
parted as we met, they gave me as much as I requested, and that was--And as
Alexander ab Alexandro _Genial. dier. l. 6. c. 16._ made answer to
Hieronymus Massainus, that wondered, _quum plures ignavos et ignobiles ad
dignitates et sacerdotia promotos quotidie videret_, when other men rose,
still he was in the same state, _eodem tenore et fortuna cui mercedem
laborum studiorumque deberi putaret_, whom he thought to deserve as well as
the rest. He made answer, that he was content with his present estate, was
not ambitious, and although _objurgabundus suam segnitiem accusaret, cum
obscurae sortis homines ad sacerdotia et pontificatus evectos_, &c., he
chid him for his backwardness, yet he was still the same: and for my part
(though I be not worthy perhaps to carry Alexander's books) yet by some
overweening and well-wishing friends, the like speeches have been used to
me; but I replied still with Alexander, that I had enough, and more
peradventure than I deserved; and with Libanius Sophista, that rather chose
(when honours and offices by the emperor were offered unto him) to be
_talis Sophista, quam tails Magistratus_. I had as lief be still Democritus
junior, and _privus privatus, si mihi jam daretur optio, quam talis
fortasse Doctor, talis Dominus.--Sed quorsum haec_? For the rest 'tis on
both sides _facinus detestandum_, to buy and sell livings, to detain from
the church, that which God's and men's laws have bestowed on it; but in
them most, and that from the covetousness and ignorance of such as are
interested in this business; I name covetousness in the first place, as the
root of all these mischiefs, which, Achan-like, compels them to commit
sacrilege, and to make simoniacal compacts, (and what not) to their own
ends, [2038]that kindles God's wrath, brings a plague, vengeance, and a
heavy visitation upon themselves and others. Some out of that insatiable
desire of filthy lucre, to be enriched, care not how they come by it _per
fas et nefas_, hook or crook, so they have it. And others when they have
with riot and prodigality embezzled their estates, to recover themselves,
make a prey of the church, robbing it, as [2039]Julian the apostate did,
spoil parsons of their revenues (in keeping half back, [2040]as a great man
amongst us observes:) "and that maintenance on which they should live:" by
means whereof, barbarism is increased, and a great decay of Christian
professors: for who will apply himself to these divine studies, his son, or
friend, when after great pains taken, they shall have nothing whereupon to
live? But with what event do they these things?

[2041] "Opesque totis viribus venamini
        At inde messis accidit miserrima."

They toil and moil, but what reap they? They are commonly unfortunate
families that use it, accursed in their progeny, and, as common experience
evinceth, accursed themselves in all their proceedings. "With what face"
(as [2042]he quotes out of Aust.) "can they expect a blessing or
inheritance from Christ in heaven, that defraud Christ of his inheritance
here on earth?" I would all our simoniacal patrons, and such as detain
tithes, would read those judicious tracts of Sir Henry Spelman, and Sir
James Sempill, knights; those late elaborate and learned treatises of Dr.
Tilslye, and Mr. Montague, which they have written of that subject. But
though they should read, it would be to small purpose, _clames licet et
mare coelo Confundas_; thunder, lighten, preach hell and damnation, tell
them 'tis a sin, they will not believe it; denounce and terrify, they have
[2043]cauterised consciences, they do not attend, as the enchanted adder,
they stop their ears. Call them base, irreligious, profane, barbarous,
pagans, atheists, epicures, (as some of them surely are) with the bawd in
Plautus, _Euge, optime_, they cry and applaud themselves with that miser,
[2044]_simul ac nummos contemplor in arca_: say what you will, _quocunque
modo rem_: as a dog barks at the moon, to no purpose are your sayings: Take
your heaven, let them have money. A base, profane, epicurean, hypocritical
rout: for my part, let them pretend what zeal they will, counterfeit
religion, blear the world's eyes, bombast themselves, and stuff out their
greatness with church spoils, shine like so many peacocks; so cold is my
charity, so defective in this behalf, that I shall never think better of
them, than that they are rotten at core, their bones are full of epicurean
hypocrisy, and atheistical marrow, they are worse than heathens. For as
Dionysius Halicarnassaeus observes, _Antiq. Rom. lib. 7._ [2045]_Primum
locum_, &c. "Greeks and Barbarians observe all religious rites, and dare
not break them for fear of offending their gods;" but our simoniacal
contractors, our senseless Achans, our stupefied patrons, fear neither God
nor devil, they have evasions for it, it is no sin, or not due _jure
divino_, or if a sin, no great sin, &c. And though they be daily punished
for it, and they do manifestly perceive, that as he said, frost and fraud
come to foul ends; yet as [2046]Chrysostom follows it _Nulla ex poena sit
correctio, et quasi adversis malitia hominum provocetur, crescit quotidie
quod puniatur_: they are rather worse than better,--_iram atque animos a
crimine sumunt_, and the more they are corrected, the more they offend: but
let them take their course, [2047]_Rode caper vites_, go on still as they
begin, 'tis no sin, let them rejoice secure, God's vengeance will overtake
them in the end, and these ill-gotten goods, as an eagle's feathers, [2048]
will consume the rest of their substance; it is [2049]_aurum Tholosanum_,
and will produce no better effects. [2050]"Let them lay it up safe, and
make their conveyances never so close, lock and shut door," saith
Chrysostom, "yet fraud and covetousness, two most violent thieves are still
included, and a little gain evil gotten will subvert the rest of their
goods." The eagle in Aesop, seeing a piece of flesh now ready to be
sacrificed, swept it away with her claws, and carried it to her nest; but
there was a burning coal stuck to it by chance, which unawares consumed her
young ones, nest, and all together. Let our simoniacal church-chopping
patrons, and sacrilegious harpies, look for no better success.

A second cause is ignorance, and from thence contempt, _successit odium in
literas ab ignorantia vulgi_; which [2051]Junius well perceived: this
hatred and contempt of learning proceeds out of [2052]ignorance; as they
are themselves barbarous, idiots, dull, illiterate, and proud, so they
esteem of others. _Sint Mecaenates, non deerunt Flacce Marones_: Let there
be bountiful patrons, and there will be painful scholars in all sciences.
But when they contemn learning, and think themselves sufficiently
qualified, if they can write and read, scramble at a piece of evidence, or
have so much Latin as that emperor had, [2053]_qui nescit dissimulare,
nescit vivere_, they are unfit to do their country service, to perform or
undertake any action or employment, which may tend to the good of a
commonwealth, except it be to fight, or to do country justice, with common
sense, which every yeoman can likewise do. And so they bring up their
children, rude as they are themselves, unqualified, untaught, uncivil most
part. [2054]_Quis e nostra juventute legitime instituitur literis? Quis
oratores aut Philosophos tangit? quis historiam legit, illam rerum
agendarum quasi animam? praecipitant parentes vota sua_, &c. 'twas Lipsius'
complaint to his illiterate countrymen, it may be ours. Now shall these men
judge of a scholar's worth, that have no worth, that know not what belongs
to a student's labours, that cannot distinguish between a true scholar and
a drone? or him that by reason of a voluble tongue, a strong voice, a
pleasing tone, and some trivially polyanthean helps, steals and gleans a
few notes from other men's harvests, and so makes a fairer show, than he
that is truly learned indeed: that thinks it no more to preach, than to
speak, [2055]"or to run away with an empty cart;" as a grave man said: and
thereupon vilify us, and our pains; scorn us, and all learning. [2056]
Because they are rich, and have other means to live, they think it concerns
them not to know, or to trouble themselves with it; a fitter task for
younger brothers, or poor men's sons, to be pen and inkhorn men, pedantical
slaves, and no whit beseeming the calling of a gentleman, as Frenchmen and
Germans commonly do, neglect therefore all human learning, what have they
to do with it? Let mariners learn astronomy; merchants, factors study
arithmetic; surveyors get them geometry; spectacle-makers optics;
land-leapers geography; town-clerks rhetoric, what should he do with a
spade, that hath no ground to dig; or they with learning, that have no use
of it? thus they reason, and are not ashamed to let mariners, apprentices,
and the basest servants, be better qualified than themselves. In former
times, kings, princes, and emperors, were the only scholars, excellent in
all faculties. Julius Caesar mended the year, and writ his own

[2057]  ------"media inter prealia semper,
        Stellarum coelique plagis, superisque vacavit."

[2058]Antonius, Adrian, Nero, Seve. Jul. &c. [2059]Michael the emperor, and
Isacius, were so much given to their studies, that no base fellow would
take so much pains: Orion, Perseus, Alphonsus, Ptolomeus, famous
astronomers; Sabor, Mithridates, Lysimachus, admired physicians: Plato's
kings all: Evax, that Arabian prince, a most expert jeweller, and an
exquisite philosopher; the kings of Egypt were priests of old, chosen and
from thence,--_Idem rex hominum, Phoebique sacerdos_: but those heroical
times are past; the Muses are now banished in this bastard age, _ad sordida
tuguriola_, to meaner persons, and confined alone almost to universities.
In those days, scholars were highly beloved, [2060]honoured, esteemed; as
old Ennius by Scipio Africanus, Virgil by Augustus; Horace by Meceanas:
princes' companions; dear to them, as Anacreon to Polycrates; Philoxenus to
Dionysius, and highly rewarded. Alexander sent Xenocrates the philosopher
fifty talents, because he was poor, _visu rerum, aut eruditione praestantes
viri, mensis olim regum adhibiti_, as Philostratus relates of Adrian and
Lampridius of Alexander Severus: famous clerks came to these princes'
courts, _velut in Lycaeum_, as to a university, and were admitted to their
tables, _quasi divum epulis accumbentes_; Archilaus, that Macedonian king,
would not willingly sup without Euripides, (amongst the rest he drank to
him at supper one night, and gave him a cup of gold for his pains)
_delectatus poetae suavi sermone_; and it was fit it should be so; because
as [2061]Plato in his Protagoras well saith, a good philosopher as much
excels other men, as a great king doth the commons of his country; and
again, [2062]_quoniam illis nihil deest, et minime egere solent, et
disciplinas quas profitentur, soli a contemptu vindicare possunt_, they
needed not to beg so basely, as they compel [2063]scholars in our times to
complain of poverty, or crouch to a rich chuff for a meal's meat, but could
vindicate themselves, and those arts which they professed. Now they would
and cannot: for it is held by some of them, as an axiom, that to keep them
poor, will make them study; they must be dieted, as horses to a race, not
pampered, [2064]_Alendos volunt, non saginandos, ne melioris mentis
flammula extinguatur_; a fat bird will not sing, a fat dog cannot hunt, and
so by this depression of theirs [2065]some want means, others will, all
want [2066]encouragement, as being forsaken almost; and generally
contemned. 'Tis an old saying, _Sint Mecaenates, non deerunt Flacce
Marones_, and 'tis a true saying still. Yet oftentimes I may not deny it
the main fault is in ourselves. Our academics too frequently offend in
neglecting patrons, as [2067]Erasmus well taxeth, or making ill choice of
them; _negligimus oblatos aut amplectimur parum aptos_, or if we get a good
one, _non studemus mutuis officiis favorem ejus alere_, we do not ply and
follow him as we should. _Idem mihi accidit Adolescenti_ (saith Erasmus)
acknowledging his fault, _et gravissime peccavi_, and so may [2068]I say
myself, I have offended in this, and so peradventure have many others. We
did not _spondere magnatum favoribus, qui caeperunt nos amplecti_, apply
ourselves with that readiness we should: idleness, love of liberty,
_immodicus amor libertatis effecit ut diu cum perfidis amicis_, as he
confesseth, _et pertinaci pauperate colluctarer_, bashfulness, melancholy,
timorousness, cause many of us to be too backward and remiss. So some
offend in one extreme, but too many on the other, we are most part too
forward, too solicitous, too ambitious, too impudent; we commonly complain
_deesse Maecenates_, of want of encouragement, want of means, when as the
true defect is in our own want of worth, our insufficiency: did Maecenas
take notice of Horace or Virgil till they had shown themselves first? or
had Bavius and Mevius any patrons? _Egregium specimen dent_, saith Erasmus,
let them approve themselves worthy first, sufficiently qualified for
learning and manners, before they presume or impudently intrude and put
themselves on great men as too many do, with such base flattery,
parasitical colloguing, such hyperbolical elogies they do usually insinuate
that it is a shame to hear and see. _Immodicae laudes conciliant invidiam,
potius quam laudem_, and vain commendations derogate from truth, and we
think in conclusion, _non melius de laudato, pejus de laudante_, ill of
both, the commender and commended. So we offend, but the main fault is in
their harshness, defect of patrons. How beloved of old, and how much
respected was Plato to Dionysius? How dear to Alexander was Aristotle,
Demeratus to Philip, Solon to Croesus, Auexarcus and Trebatius to Augustus,
Cassius to Vespasian, Plutarch to Trajan, Seneca to Nero, Simonides to
Hieron? how honoured?

[2069] "Sed haec prius fuere, nunc recondita
        Senent quiete,"

those days are gone; _Et spes, et ratio studiorum in Caesare tantum_:
[2070] as he said of old, we may truly say now, he is our amulet, our
[2071]sun, our sole comfort and refuge, our Ptolemy, our common Maecenas,
_Jacobus munificus, Jacobus pacificus, mysta Musarum, Rex Platonicus:
Grande decus, columenque nostrum_: a famous scholar himself, and the sole
patron, pillar, and sustainer of learning: but his worth in this kind is so
well known, that as Paterculus of Cato, _Jam ipsum laudare nefas sit_: and
which [2072] Pliny to Trajan. _Seria te carmina, honorque aeternus
annalium, non haec brevis et pudenda praedicatio colet_. But he is now
gone, the sun of ours set, and yet no night follows, _Sol occubuit, nox
nulla sequuta est_. We have such another in his room, [2073]_aureus alter.
Avulsus, simili frondescit virga metallo_, and long may he reign and
flourish amongst us.

Let me not be malicious, and lie against my genius, I may not deny, but
that we have a sprinkling of our gentry, here and there one, excellently
well learned, like those Fuggeri in Germany; Dubartus, Du Plessis, Sadael,
in France; Picus Mirandula, Schottus, Barotius, in Italy; _Apparent rari
nantes in gurgite vasto_. But they are but few in respect of the multitude,
the major part (and some again excepted, that are indifferent) are wholly
bent for hawks and hounds, and carried away many times with intemperate
lust, gaming and drinking. If they read a book at any time (_si quod est
interim otii a venatu, poculis, alea, scortis_) 'tis an English Chronicle,
St. Huon of Bordeaux, Amadis de Gaul, &c., a play-book, or some pamphlet of
news, and that at such seasons only, when they cannot stir abroad, to drive
away time, [2074]their sole discourse is dogs, hawks, horses, and what
news? If some one have been a traveller in Italy, or as far as the
emperor's court, wintered in Orleans, and can court his mistress in broken
French, wear his clothes neatly in the newest fashion, sing some choice
outlandish tunes, discourse of lords, ladies, towns, palaces, and cities,
he is complete and to be admired: [2075]otherwise he and they are much at
one; no difference between the master and the man, but worshipful titles;
wink and choose betwixt him that sits down (clothes excepted) and him that
holds the trencher behind him: yet these men must be our patrons, our
governors too sometimes, statesmen, magistrates, noble, great, and wise by

Mistake me not (I say again) _Vos o Patritius sanguis_, you that are worthy
senators, gentlemen, I honour your names and persons, and with all
submissiveness, prostrate myself to your censure and service. There are
amongst you, I do ingenuously confess, many well-deserving patrons, and
true patriots, of my knowledge, besides many hundreds which I never saw, no
doubt, or heard of, pillars of our commonwealth, [2076]whose worth, bounty,
learning, forwardness, true zeal in religion, and good esteem of all
scholars, ought to be consecrated to all posterity; but of your rank, there
are a debauched, corrupt, covetous, illiterate crew again, no better than
stocks, _merum pecus (testor Deum, non mihi videri dignos ingenui hominis
appellatione)_ barbarous Thracians, _et quis ille thrax qui hoc neget_? a
sordid, profane, pernicious company, irreligious, impudent and stupid, I
know not what epithets to give them, enemies to learning, confounders of
the church, and the ruin of a commonwealth; patrons they are by right of
inheritance, and put in trust freely to dispose of such livings to the
church's good; but (hard taskmasters they prove) they take away their
straw, and compel them to make their number of brick: they commonly respect
their own ends, commodity is the steer of all their actions, and him they
present in conclusion, as a man of greatest gifts, that will give most; no
penny, [2077]no paternoster, as the saying is. _Nisi preces auro fulcias,
amplius irritas: ut Cerberus offa_, their attendants and officers must be
bribed, feed, and made, as Cerberus is with a sop by him that goes to hell.
It was an old saying, _Omnia Romae venalia_ (all things are venal at Rome,)
'tis a rag of Popery, which will never be rooted out, there is no hope, no
good to be done without money. A clerk may offer himself, approve his
[2078]worth, learning, honesty, religion, zeal, they will commend him for
it; but [2079]_probitas laudatur et alget_. If he be a man of extraordinary
parts, they will flock afar off to hear him, as they did in Apuleius, to
see Psyche: _multi mortales confluebant ad videndum saeculi decus, speculum
gloriosum, laudatur ab omnibus, spectatur ob omnibus, nec quisquam non rex,
non regius, cupidus ejus nuptiarium petitor accedit; mirantur quidem
divinam formam omnes, sed ut simulacrum fabre politum mirantur_; many
mortal men came to see fair Psyche the glory of her age, they did admire
her, commend, desire her for her divine beauty, and gaze upon her; but as
on a picture; none would marry her, _quod indotato_, fair Psyche had no
money. [2080]So they do by learning;

[2081]  ------"didicit jam dives avarus
        Tantum admirari, tantum laudare disertos,
        Ut pueri Junonis avem"------

       "Your rich men have now learn'd of latter days
          T'admire, commend, and come together
        To hear and see a worthy scholar speak,
          As children do a peacock's feather."

He shall have all the good words that may be given, [2082]a proper man, and
'tis pity he hath no preferment, all good wishes, but inexorable, indurate
as he is, he will not prefer him, though it be in his power, because he is
_indotatus_, he hath no money. Or if he do give him entertainment, let him
be never so well qualified, plead affinity, consanguinity, sufficiency, he
shall serve seven years, as Jacob did for Rachel, before he shall have it.
[2083]If he will enter at first, he must get in at that Simoniacal gate,
come off soundly, and put in good security to perform all covenants, else
he will not deal with, or admit him. But if some poor scholar, some parson
chaff, will offer himself; some trencher chaplain, that will take it to the
halves, thirds, or accepts of what he will give, he is welcome; be
conformable, preach as he will have him, he likes him before a million of
others; for the host is always best cheap: and then as Hierom said to
Cromatius, _patella dignum operculum_, such a patron, such a clerk; the
cure is well supplied, and all parties pleased. So that is still verified
in our age, which [2084]Chrysostom complained of in his time, _Qui
opulentiores sunt, in ordinem parasitorum cogunt eos, et ipsos tanquam
canes ad mensas suas enutriunt, eorumque impudentes. Venires iniquarum
coenarum reliquiis differtiunt, iisdem pro arbitro abulentes_: Rich men
keep these lecturers, and fawning parasites, like so many dogs at their
tables, and filling their hungry guts with the offals of their meat, they
abuse them at their pleasure, and make them say what they propose.
[2085]"As children do by a bird or a butterfly in a string, pull in and let
him out as they list, do they by their trencher chaplains, prescribe,
command their wits, let in and out as to them it seems best." If the patron
be precise, so must his chaplain be; if he be papistical, his clerk must be
so too, or else be turned out. These are those clerks which serve the turn,
whom they commonly entertain, and present to church livings, whilst in the
meantime we that are University men, like so many hidebound calves in a
pasture, tarry out our time, wither away as a flower ungathered in a
garden, and are never used; or as so many candles, illuminate ourselves
alone, obscuring one another's light, and are not discerned here at all,
the least of which, translated to a dark room, or to some country benefice,
where it might shine apart, would give a fair light, and be seen over all.
Whilst we lie waiting here as those sick men did at the Pool of [2086]
Bethesda, till the Angel stirred the water, expecting a good hour, they
step between, and beguile us of our preferment. I have not yet said, if
after long expectation, much expense, travel, earnest suit of ourselves and
friends, we obtain a small benefice at last; our misery begins afresh, we
are suddenly encountered with the flesh, world, and devil, with a new
onset; we change a quiet life for an ocean of troubles, we come to a
ruinous house, which before it be habitable, must be necessarily to our
great damage repaired; we are compelled to sue for dilapidations, or else
sued ourselves, and scarce yet settled, we are called upon for our
predecessor's arrearages; first-fruits, tenths, subsidies, are instantly to
be paid, benevolence, procurations, &c., and which is most to be feared, we
light upon a cracked title, as it befell Clenard of Brabant, for his
rectory, and charge of his _Beginae_; he was no sooner inducted, but
instantly sued, _cepimusque_ [2087](saith he) _strenue litigare, et
implacabili bello confligere_: at length after ten years' suit, as long as
Troy's siege, when he had tired himself, and spent his money, he was fain
to leave all for quietness' sake, and give it up to his adversary. Or else
we are insulted over, and trampled on by domineering officers, fleeced by
those greedy harpies to get more fees; we stand in fear of some precedent
lapse; we fall amongst refractory, seditious sectaries, peevish puritans,
perverse papists, a lascivious rout of atheistical Epicures, that will not
be reformed, or some litigious people (those wild beasts of Ephesus must be
fought with) that will not pay their dues without much repining, or
compelled by long suit; _Laici clericis oppido infesti_, an old axiom, all
they think well gotten that is had from the church, and by such uncivil,
harsh dealings, they make their poor minister weary of his place, if not
his life; and put case they be quiet honest men, make the best of it, as
often it falls out, from a polite and terse academic, he must turn rustic,
rude, melancholise alone, learn to forget, or else, as many do, become
maltsters, graziers, chapmen, &c. (now banished from the academy, all
commerce of the muses, and confined to a country village, as Ovid was from
Rome to Pontus), and daily converse with a company of idiots and clowns.

Nos interim quod, attinet (nec enim immunes ab hac noxa sumus) idem realus
manet, idem nobis, et si non multo gravius, crimen objici potest: nostra
enim culpa sit, nostra incuria, nostra avaritia, quod tam frequentes,
foedaeque fiant in Ecclesia nundinationes, (templum est vaenale, deusque)
tot sordes invehantur, tanta grassetur impietas, tanta nequitia, tam
insanus miseriarum Euripus, et turbarum aestuarium, nostro inquam, omnium
(Academicorum imprimis) vitio sit. Quod tot Resp. malis afficiatur, a nobis
seminarium; ultro malum hoc accersimus, et quavis contumelia, quavis
interim miseria digni, qui pro virili non occurrimus. Quid enim fieri posse
speramus, quum tot indies sine delectu pauperes alumni, terrae filii, et
cujuscunque ordinis homunciones ad gradus certatim admittantur? qui si
definitionem, distinctionemque unam aut alteram memoriter edidicerint, et
pro more tot annos in dialectica posuerint, non refert quo profectu, quales
demum sint, idiotae, nugatores, otiatores, aleatores, compotores, indigni,
libidinis voluptatumque administri, "Sponsi Penelopes, nebulones,
Alcinoique," modo tot annos in academia insumpserint, et se pro togatis
venditarint; lucri causa, et amicorum intercessu praesentantur; addo etiam
et magnificis nonnunquam elogiis morum et scientiae; et jam valedicturi
testimonialibus hisce litteris, amplissime conscriptis in eorum gratiam
honorantur, abiis, qui fidei suae et existimationis jacturam proculdubio
faciunt. "Doctores enim et professores" (quod ait [2088]ille) "id unum
curant, ut ex professionibus frequentibus, et tumultuariis potius quam
legitimis, commoda sua promoverant, et ex dispendio publico suum faciant
incrementum." Id solum in votis habent annui plerumque magistratus, ut ab
incipientium numero [2089]pecunias emungant, nec multum interest qui sint,
literatores an literati, modo pingues, nitidi, ad aspectum speciosi, et
quod verbo dicam, pecuniosi sint. [2090]Philosophastri licentiantur in
artibus, artem qui non habent, [2091]"Eosque sapientes esse jubent, qui
nulla praediti sunt sapientia, et nihil ad gradum praeterquam velle
adferunt." Theologastri (solvant modo) satis superque docti, per omnes
honorum gradus evehuntur et ascendunt. Atque hinc fit quod tam viles
scurrae, tot passim idiotae, literarum crepusculo positi, larvae pastorum,
circumforanei, vagi, barbi, fungi, crassi, asini, merum pecus in
sacrosanctos theologiae aditus, illotis pedibus irrumpant, praeter
inverecundam frontem adferentes nihil, vulgares quasdam quisquilias, et
scholarium quaedam nugamenta, indigna quae vel recipiantur in triviis. Hoc
illud indignum genus hominum et famelicum, indigum, vagum, ventris
mancipium, ad stivam potius relegandum, ad haras aptius quam ad aras, quod
divinas hasce literas turpiter prostituit; hi sunt qui pulpita complent, in
aedes nobilium irrepunt, et quum reliquis vitae destituantur subsidiis, ob
corporis et animi egestatem, aliarum in repub. partium minime capaces sint;
ad sacram hanc anchoram confugiunt, sacerdotium quovis modo captantes, non
ex sinceritate, quod [2092]Paulus ait, "sed cauponantes verbum Dei." Ne
quis interim viris bonis detractum quid putet, quos habet ecclesia
Anglicana quamplurimos, eggregie doctos, illustres, intactae famae,
homines, et plures forsan quam quaevis Europae provincia; ne quis a
florentisimis Academiis, quae viros undiquaque doctissimos, omni virtutum
genere suspiciendos, abunde producunt. Et multo plures utraque habitura,
multo splendidior futura, si non hae sordes splendidum lumen ejus
obfuscarent, obstaret corruptio, et cauponantes quaedam harpyae,
proletariique bonum hoc nobis non inviderent. Nemo enim tam caeca mente,
qui non hoc ipsum videat: nemo tam stolido ingenio, qui non intelligat; tam
pertinaci judicio, qui non agnoscat, ab his idiotis circumforaneis, sacram
pollui Theologiam, ac caelestes Musas quasi prophanum quiddam prostitui.
"Viles animae et effrontes" (sic enim Lutherus [2093] alicubi vocat)
"lucelli causa, ut muscae ad mulctra, ad nobilium et heroum mensas
advolant, in spem sacerdotii," cujuslibet honoris, officii, in quamvis
aulam, urbem se ingerunt, ad quodvis se ministerium componunt.-- "Ut nervis
alienis mobile lignum--Ducitur"--Hor. _Lib. II. Sat. 7_. [2094] "offam
sequentes, psittacorum more, in praedae spem quidvis effutiunt:"
obsecundantes Parasiti [2095](Erasmus ait) "quidvis docent, dicunt,
scribunt, suadent, et contra conscientiam probant, non ut salutarem reddant
gregem, sed ut magnificam sibi parent fortunam." [2096]"Opiniones quasvis
et decreta contra verbum Dei astruunt, ne non offendant patronum, sed ut
retineant favorem procerum, et populi plausum, sibique ipsis opes
accumulent." Eo etenim plerunque animo ad Theologiam accedunt, non ut rem
divinam, sed ut suam facient; non ad Ecclesiae bonum promovendum, sed
expilandum; quaerentes, quod Paulus ait, "non quae Jesu Christi, sed quae
sua," non domini thesaurum, sed ut sibi, suisque thesaurizent. Nec tantum
iis, qui vilirrie fortunae, et abjectae, sortis sunt, hoc in usu est: sed
et medios, summos elatos, ne dicam Episcopos, hoc malum invasit. [2097]
"Dicite pontifices, in sacris quid facit aurum?" [2098]"summos saepe viros
transversos agit avaritia," et qui reliquis morum probitate praelucerent;
hi facem praeferunt ad Simoniam, et in corruptionis hunc scopulum
impingentes, non tondent pecus, sed deglubunt, et quocunque se conferunt,
expilant, exhauriunt, abradunt, magnum famae suae, si non animae naufragium
facientes; ut non ab infimis ad summos, sed a summis ad infimos malum
promanasse videatur, et illud verum sit quod ille olim lusit, "emerat ille
prius, vendere jure potest. Simoniacus enim" (quod cum Leone dicam)
"gratiam non accepit, si non accipit, non habet, et si non habet, nec
gratus potest esse;" tantum enim absunt istorum nonnulli, qui ad clavum
sedent a promovendo reliquos, ut penitus impediant, probe sibi conscii,
quibus artibus illic pervenerint. [2099]"Nam qui ob literas emersisse illos
credat, desipit; qui vero ingenii, eruditionis, experientiae, probitatis,
pietatis, et Musarum id esse pretium putat" (quod olim revera fuit, hodie
promittitur) "planissime insanit." Utcunque vel undecunque malum hoc
originem ducat, non ultra quaeram, ex his primordiis caepit vitiorum
colluvies, omnis calamitas, omne miseriarum agmen in Ecclesiam invehitur.
Hinc tam frequens simonia, hinc ortae querelae, fraudes, imposturae, ab hoc
fonte se derivarunt omnes nequitiae. Ne quid obiter dicam de ambitione,
adulatione plusquam aulica, ne tristi domicaenio laborent, de luxu, de
foedo nonnunquam vitae exemplo, quo nonnullos offendunt, de compotatione
Sybaritica, &c. hinc ille squalor academicus, "tristes hac tempestate
Camenae," quum quivis homunculus artium ignarus, hic artibus assurgat, hunc
in modum promoveatur et ditescat, ambitiosis appellationibus insignis, et
multis dignitatibus augustus vulgi oculos perstringat, bene se habeat, et
grandia gradiens majestatem quandam ac amplitudinem prae se ferens,
miramque sollicitudinem, barba reverendus, toga nitidus, purpura coruscus,
supellectilis splendore, et famulorum numero maxime conspicuus. "Quales
statuae" (quod ait [2100]ille) "quae sacris in aedibus columnis imponuntur,
velut oneri cedentes videntur, ac si insudarent, quum revera sensu sint
carentes, et nihil saxeam adjuvent firmitatem:" atlantes videri volunt,
quum sint statuae lapideae, umbratiles revera homunciones, fungi, forsan et
bardi, nihil a saxo differentes. Quum interim docti viri, et vilae
sanctioris ornamentis praediti, qui aestum diei sustinent, his iniqua sorte
serviant, minimo forsan salario contenti, puris nominibus nuncupati,
humiles, obscuri, multoque digniores licet, egentes, inhonorati vitam
privam privatam agant, tenuique sepulti sacerdotio, vel in collegiis suis
in aeternum incarcerati, inglorie delitescant. Sed nolo diutius hanc movere
sentinam, hinc illae lachrymae, lugubris musarum habitus, [2101]hinc ipsa
religio (quod cum Secellio dicam) "in ludibrium et contemptum adducitur,"
abjectum sacerdotium (atque haec ubi fiunt, ausim dicere, et pulidum [2102]
putidi dicterium de clero usurpare) "putidum vulgus," inops, rude,
sordidum, melancholicum, miserum, despicabile, contemnendum.[2103]


SUBSECT. I--_Non-necessary, remote, outward, adventitious, or accidental
causes: as first from the Nurse_.

Of those remote, outward, ambient, necessary causes, I have sufficiently
discoursed in the precedent member, the non-necessary follow; of which,
saith [2104]Fuchsius, no art can be made, by reason of their uncertainty,
casualty, and multitude; so called "not necessary" because according to
[2105]Fernelius, "they may be avoided, and used without necessity." Many of
these accidental causes, which I shall entreat of here, might have well
been reduced to the former, because they cannot be avoided, but fatally
happen to us, though accidentally, and unawares, at some time or other; the
rest are contingent and inevitable, and more properly inserted in this rank
of causes. To reckon up all is a thing impossible; of some therefore most
remarkable of these contingent causes which produce melancholy, I will
briefly speak and in their order.

From a child's nativity, the first ill accident that can likely befall him
in this kind is a bad nurse, by whose means alone he may be tainted with
this [2106]malady from his cradle, Aulus Gellius _l. 12. c. 1._ brings in
Phavorinus, that eloquent philosopher, proving this at large, [2107] "that
there is the same virtue and property in the milk as in the seed, and not
in men alone, but in all other creatures; he gives instance in a kid and
lamb, if either of them suck of the other's milk, the lamb of the goat's,
or the kid of the ewe's, the wool of the one will be hard, and the hair of
the other soft." Giraldus Cambrensis _Itinerar. Cambriae, l. 1. c. 2._
confirms this by a notable example which happened in his time. A sow-pig by
chance sucked a brach, and when she was grown [2108]"would miraculously
hunt all manner of deer, and that as well, or rather better, than any
ordinary hound." His conclusion is, [2109]"that men and beasts participate
of her nature and conditions by whose milk they are fed." Phavorinus urges
it farther, and demonstrates it more evidently, that if a nurse be
[2110]"misshapen, unchaste, dishonest, impudent, [2111]cruel, or the like,
the child that sucks upon her breast will be so too;" all other affections
of the mind and diseases are almost engrafted, as it were, and imprinted
into the temperature of the infant, by the nurse's milk; as pox, leprosy,
melancholy, &c. Cato for some such reason would make his servants' children
suck upon his wife's breast, because by that means they would love him and
his the better, and in all likelihood agree with them. A more evident
example that the minds are altered by milk cannot be given, than that of
[2112]Dion, which he relates of Caligula's cruelty; it could neither be
imputed to father nor mother, but to his cruel nurse alone, that anointed
her paps with blood still when he sucked, which made him such a murderer,
and to express her cruelty to a hair: and that of Tiberius, who was a
common drunkard, because his nurse was such a one. _Et si delira fuerit_
([2113]one observes) _infantulum delirum faciet_, if she be a fool or dolt,
the child she nurseth will take after her, or otherwise be misaffected;
which Franciscus Barbarus _l. 2. c. ult. de re uxoria_ proves at full, and
Ant. Guivarra, _lib. 2. de Marco Aurelio_: the child will surely
participate. For bodily sickness there is no doubt to be made. Titus,
Vespasian's son, was therefore sickly, because the nurse was so,
Lampridius. And if we may believe physicians, many times children catch the
pox from a bad nurse, Botaldus _cap. 61. de lue vener._ Besides evil
attendance, negligence, and many gross inconveniences, which are incident
to nurses, much danger may so come to the child. [2114]For these causes
Aristotle _Polit. lib. 7. c. 17._ Phavorinus and Marcus Aurelius would not
have a child put to nurse at all, but every mother to bring up her own, of
what condition soever she be; for a sound and able mother to put out her
child to nurse, is _naturae intemperies_, so [2115]Guatso calls it, 'tis
fit therefore she should be nurse herself; the mother will be more careful,
loving, and attendant, than any servile woman, or such hired creatures;
this all the world acknowledgeth, _convenientissimum est_ (as Rod. a Castro
_de nat. mulierum. lib. 4. c. 12._ in many words confesseth) _matrem ipsam
lactare infantem_, "It is most fit that the mother should suckle her own
infant"--who denies that it should be so?--and which some women most
curiously observe; amongst the rest, [2116]that queen of France, a Spaniard
by birth, that was so precise and zealous in this behalf, that when in her
absence a strange nurse had suckled her child, she was never quiet till she
had made the infant vomit it up again. But she was too jealous. If it be
so, as many times it is, they must be put forth, the mother be not fit or
well able to be a nurse, I would then advise such mothers, as
[2117]Plutarch doth in his book _de liberis educandis_ and [2118]S. Hierom,
_li. 2. epist. 27. Laetae de institut. fil. Magninus part 2. Reg. sanit.
cap. 7._ and the said Rodericus, that they make choice of a sound woman, of
a good complexion, honest, free from bodily diseases, if it be possible,
all passions and perturbations of the mind, as sorrow, fear, grief,
[2119]folly, melancholy. For such passions corrupt the milk, and alter the
temperature of the child, which now being [2120] _Udum et molle lutum_, "a
moist and soft clay," is easily seasoned and perverted. And if such a nurse
may be found out, that will be diligent and careful withal, let Phavorinus
and M. Aurelius plead how they can against it, I had rather accept of her
in some cases than the mother herself, and which Bonacialus the physician,
Nic. Biesius the politician, _lib. 4. de repub. cap. 8._ approves,
[2121]"Some nurses are much to be preferred to some mothers." For why may
not the mother be naught, a peevish drunken flirt, a waspish choleric slut,
a crazed piece, a fool (as many mothers are), unsound as soon as the nurse?
There is more choice of nurses than mothers; and therefore except the
mother be most virtuous, staid, a woman of excellent good parts, and of a
sound complexion, I would have all children in such cases committed to
discreet strangers. And 'tis the only way; as by marriage they are
engrafted to other families to alter the breed, or if anything be amiss in
the mother, as Ludovicus Mercatus contends, _Tom. 2. lib. de morb. haered._
to prevent diseases and future maladies, to correct and qualify the child's
ill-disposed temperature, which he had from his parents. This is an
excellent remedy, if good choice be made of such a nurse.

SUBSECT. II.--_Education a Cause of Melancholy_.

Education, of these accidental causes of melancholy, may justly challenge
the next place, for if a man escape a bad nurse, he may be undone by evil
bringing up. [2122]Jason Pratensis puts this of education for a principal
cause; bad parents, stepmothers, tutors, masters, teachers, too rigorous,
too severe, too remiss or indulgent on the other side, are often fountains
and furtherers of this disease. Parents and such as have the tuition and
oversight of children, offend many times in that they are too stern, always
threatening, chiding, brawling, whipping, or striking; by means of which
their poor children are so disheartened and cowed, that they never after
have any courage, a merry hour in their lives, or take pleasure in
anything. There is a great moderation to be had in such things, as matters
of so great moment to the making or marring of a child. Some fright their
children with beggars, bugbears, and hobgoblins, if they cry, or be
otherwise unruly: but they are much to blame in it, many times, saith
Lavater, _de spectris, part. 1, cap. 5._ _ex metu in morbos graves incidunt
et noctu dormientes clamant_, for fear they fall into many diseases, and
cry out in their sleep, and are much the worse for it all their lives:
these things ought not at all, or to be sparingly done, and upon just
occasion. Tyrannical, impatient, hair-brain schoolmasters, _aridi
magistri_, so [2123]Fabius terms them, _Ajaces flagelliferi_, are in this
kind as bad as hangmen and executioners, they make many children endure a
martyrdom all the while they are at school, with bad diet, if they board in
their houses, too much severity and ill-usage, they quite pervert their
temperature of body and mind: still chiding, railing, frowning, lashing,
tasking, keeping, that they are _fracti animis_, moped many times, weary of
their lives, [2124]_nimia severitate deficiunt et desperant_, and think no
slavery in the world (as once I did myself) like to that of a grammar
scholar. _Praeceptorum ineptiis discruciantur ingenia puerorum_, [2125]
saith Erasmus, they tremble at his voice, looks, coming in. St. Austin, in
the first book of his _confess. et 4 ca._ calls this schooling _meliculosam
necessitatem_, and elsewhere a martyrdom, and confesseth of himself, how
cruelly he was tortured in mind for learning Greek, _nulla verba noveram,
et saevis terroribus et poenis, ut nossem, instabatur mihi vehementer_, I
know nothing, and with cruel terrors and punishment I was daily compelled.
[2126]Beza complains in like case of a rigorous schoolmaster in Paris, that
made him by his continual thunder and threats once in a mind to drown
himself, had he not met by the way with an uncle of his that vindicated him
from that misery for the time, by taking him to his house. Trincavellius,
_lib. 1. consil. 16._ had a patient nineteen years of age, extremely
melancholy, _ob nimium studium, Tarvitii et praeceptoris minas_, by reason
of overmuch study, and his [2127]tutor's threats. Many masters are
hard-hearted, and bitter to their servants, and by that means do so deject,
with terrible speeches and hard usage so crucify them, that they become
desperate, and can never be recalled.

Others again, in that opposite extreme, do as great harm by their too much
remissness, they give them no bringing up, no calling to busy themselves
about, or to live in, teach them no trade, or set them in any good course;
by means of which their servants, children, scholars, are carried away with
that stream of drunkenness, idleness, gaming, and many such irregular
courses, that in the end they rue it, curse their parents, and mischief
themselves. Too much indulgence causeth the like, [2128]_inepta patris
lenitas et facilitas prava_, when as Mitio-like, with too much liberty and
too great allowance, they feed their children's humours, let them revel,
wench, riot, swagger, and do what they will themselves, and then punish
them with a noise of musicians;

[2129] "Obsonet, potet, oleat unguenta de meo;
        Amat? dabitur a me argentum ubi erit commodum.
        Fores effregit? restituentur: descidit
        Vestem? resarcietur.--Faciat quod lubet,
        Sumat, consumat, perdat, decretum est pati."

But as Demeo told him, _tu illum corrumpi sinis_, your lenity will be his
undoing, _praevidere videor jam diem, illum, quum hic egens profugiet
aliquo militatum_, I foresee his ruin. So parents often err, many fond
mothers especially, dote so much upon their children, like [2130]Aesop's
ape, till in the end they crush them to death, _Corporum nutrices animarum
novercae_, pampering up their bodies to the undoing of their souls: they
will not let them be [2131]corrected or controlled, but still soothed up in
everything they do, that in conclusion "they bring sorrow, shame, heaviness
to their parents" (Ecclus. cap. xxx. 8, 9), "become wanton, stubborn,
wilful, and disobedient;" rude, untaught, headstrong, incorrigible, and
graceless; "they love them so foolishly," saith [2132]Cardan, "that they
rather seem to hate them, bringing them not up to virtue but injury, not to
learning but to riot, not to sober life and conversation, but to all
pleasure and licentious behaviour." Who is he of so little experience that
knows not this of Fabius to be true? [2133]"Education is another nature,
altering the mind and will, and I would to God" (saith he) "we ourselves
did not spoil our children's manners, by our overmuch cockering and nice
education, and weaken the strength of their bodies and minds, that causeth
custom, custom nature," &c. For these causes Plutarch in his book _de lib.
educ._ and Hierom. _epist. lib. 1. epist. 17. to Laeta de institut.
filiae_, gives a most especial charge to all parents, and many good
cautions about bringing up of children, that they be not committed to
indiscreet, passionate, bedlam tutors, light, giddy-headed, or covetous
persons, and spare for no cost, that they may be well nurtured and taught,
it being a matter of so great consequence. For such parents as do
otherwise, Plutarch esteems of them [2134]"that are more careful of their
shoes than of their feet," that rate their wealth above their children. And
he, saith [2135]Cardan, "that leaves his son to a covetous schoolmaster to
be informed, or to a close Abbey to fast and learn wisdom together, doth no
other, than that he be a learned fool, or a sickly wise man."

SUBSECT. III.--_Terrors and Affrights, Causes of Melancholy_.

Tully, in the fourth of his Tusculans, distinguishes these terrors which
arise from the apprehension of some terrible object heard or seen, from
other fears, and so doth Patritius _lib. 5. Tit. 4. de regis institut._ Of
all fears they are most pernicious and violent, and so suddenly alter the
whole temperature of the body, move the soul and spirits, strike such a
deep impression, that the parties can never be recovered, causing more
grievous and fiercer melancholy, as Felix Plater, _c. 3. de mentis
alienat_. [2136]speaks out of his experience, than any inward cause
whatsoever: "and imprints itself so forcibly in the spirits, brain,
humours, that if all the mass of blood were let out of the body, it could
hardly be extracted. This horrible kind of melancholy" (for so he terms it)
"had been often brought before him, and troubles and affrights commonly men
and women, young and old of all sorts." [2137]Hercules de Saxonia calls
this kind of melancholy (_ab agitatione spirituum_) by a peculiar name, it
comes from the agitation, motion, contraction, dilatation of spirits, not
from any distemperature of humours, and produceth strong effects. This
terror is most usually caused, as [2138]Plutarch will have, "from some
imminent danger, when a terrible object is at hand," heard, seen, or
conceived, [2139]"truly appearing, or in a [2140]dream:" and many times the
more sudden the accident, it is the more violent.

[2141] "Stat terror animis, et cor attonitum salit,
        Pavidumque trepidis palpitat venis jecur."

       "Their soul's affright, their heart amazed quakes,
        The trembling liver pants i' th' veins, and aches."

Arthemedorus the grammarian lost his wits by the unexpected sight of a
crocodile, Laurentius _7. de melan_. [2142]The massacre at Lyons, 1572, in
the reign of Charles IX., was so terrible and fearful, that many ran mad,
some died, great-bellied women were brought to bed before their time,
generally all affrighted aghast. Many lose their wits [2143]"by the sudden
sight of some spectrum or devil, a thing very common in all ages," saith
Lavater _part 1. cap. 9._ as Orestes did at the sight of the Furies, which
appeared to him in black (as [2144]Pausanias records). The Greeks call them
[Greek: mormolucheia], which so terrify their souls, or if they be but
affrighted by some counterfeit devils in jest,

[2145]  ------"ut pueri trepidant, atque omnia caecis
        In tenebris metuunt"------

as children in the dark conceive hobgoblins, and are so afraid, they are
the worse for it all their lives. Some by sudden fires, earthquakes,
inundations, or any such dismal objects: Themiscon the physician fell into
a hydrophobia, by seeing one sick of that disease: (Dioscorides _l. 6. c.
33._) or by the sight of a monster, a carcase, they are disquieted many
months following, and cannot endure the room where a corpse hath been, for
a world would not be alone with a dead man, or lie in that bed many years
after in which a man hath died. At [2146]Basil many little children in the
springtime went to gather flowers in a meadow at the town's end, where a
malefactor hung in gibbets; all gazing at it, one by chance flung a stone,
and made it stir, by which accident, the children affrighted ran away; one
slower than the rest, looking back, and seeing the stirred carcase wag
towards her, cried out it came after, and was so terribly affrighted, that
for many days she could not rest, eat, or sleep, she could not be pacified,
but melancholy, died. [2147]In the same town another child, beyond the
Rhine, saw a grave opened, and upon the sight of a carcase, was so troubled
in mind that she could not be comforted, but a little after departed, and
was buried by it. Platerus _observat. l. 1_, a gentlewoman of the same city
saw a fat hog cut up, when the entrails were opened, and a noisome savour
offended her nose, she much misliked, and would not longer abide: a
physician in presence, told her, as that hog, so was she, full of filthy
excrements, and aggravated the matter by some other loathsome instances,
insomuch, this nice gentlewoman apprehended it so deeply, that she fell
forthwith a-vomiting, was so mightily distempered in mind and body, that
with all his art and persuasions, for some months after, he could not
restore her to herself again, she could not forget it, or remove the object
out of her sight, _Idem_. Many cannot endure to see a wound opened, but
they are offended: a man executed, or labour of any fearful disease, as
possession, apoplexies, one bewitched; [2148]or if they read by chance of
some terrible thing, the symptoms alone of such a disease, or that which
they dislike, they are instantly troubled in mind, aghast, ready to apply
it to themselves, they are as much disquieted as if they had seen it, or
were so affected themselves. _Hecatas sibi videntur somniare_, they dream
and continually think of it. As lamentable effects are caused by such
terrible objects heard, read, or seen, _auditus maximos motus in corpore
facit_, as [2149]Plutarch holds, no sense makes greater alteration of body
and mind: sudden speech sometimes, unexpected news, be they good or bad,
_praevisa minus oratio_, will move as much, _animum obruere, et de sede sua
dejicere_, as a [2150]philosopher observes, will take away our sleep and
appetite, disturb and quite overturn us. Let them bear witness that have
heard those tragical alarms, outcries, hideous noises, which are many times
suddenly heard in the dead of the night by irruption of enemies and
accidental fires, &c., those [2151]panic fears, which often drive men out
of their wits, bereave them of sense, understanding and all, some for a
time, some for their whole lives, they never recover it. The [2152]
Midianites were so affrighted by Gideon's soldiers, they breaking but every
one a pitcher; and [2153]Hannibal's army by such a panic fear was
discomfited at the walls of Rome. Augusta Livia hearing a few tragical
verses recited out of Virgil, _Tu Marcellus eris_, &c., fell down dead in a
swoon. Edinus king of Denmark, by a sudden sound which he heard, [2154]
"was turned into fury with all his men," Cranzius, _l. 5, Dan. hist._ and
Alexander ab Alexandro _l. 3. c. 5._ Amatus Lusitanus had a patient, that
by reason of bad tidings became epilepticus, _cen. 2. cura 90_, Cardan
_subtil. l. 18_, saw one that lost his wits by mistaking of an echo. If one
sense alone can cause such violent commotions of the mind, what may we
think when hearing, sight, and those other senses are all troubled at once?
as by some earthquakes, thunder, lightning, tempests, &c. At Bologna in
Italy, _anno_ 1504, there was such a fearful earthquake about eleven
o'clock in the night (as [2155]Beroaldus in his book _de terrae motu_, hath
commended to posterity) that all the city trembled, the people thought the
world was at an end, _actum de mortalibus_, such a fearful noise, it made
such a detestable smell, the inhabitants were infinitely affrighted, and
some ran mad. _Audi rem atrocem, et annalibus memorandam_ (mine author
adds), hear a strange story, and worthy to be chronicled: I had a servant
at the same time called Fulco Argelanus, a bold and proper man, so
grievously terrified with it, that he [2156]was first melancholy, after
doted, at last mad, and made away himself. At [2157]Fuscinum in Japona
"there was such an earthquake, and darkness on a sudden, that many men were
offended with headache, many overwhelmed with sorrow and melancholy. At
Meacum whole streets and goodly palaces were overturned at the same time,
and there was such a hideous noise withal, like thunder, and filthy smell,
that their hair stared for fear, and their hearts quaked, men and beasts
were incredibly terrified. In Sacai, another city, the same earthquake was
so terrible unto them, that many were bereft of their senses; and others by
that horrible spectacle so much amazed, that they knew not what they did."
Blasius a Christian, the reporter of the news, was so affrighted for his
part, that though it were two months after, he was scarce his own man,
neither could he drive the remembrance of it out of his mind. Many times,
some years following, they will tremble afresh at the [2158]remembrance or
conceit of such a terrible object, even all their lives long, if mention be
made of it. Cornelius Agrippa relates out of Gulielmus Parisiensis, a story
of one, that after a distasteful purge which a physician had prescribed
unto him, was so much moved, [2159]"that at the very sight of physic he
would be distempered," though he never so much as smelled to it, the box of
physic long after would give him a purge; nay, the very remembrance of it
did effect it; [2160]"like travellers and seamen," saith Plutarch, "that
when they have been sanded, or dashed on a rock, for ever after fear not
that mischance only, but all such dangers whatsoever."

SUBSECT. IV.--_Scoffs, Calumnies, bitter Jests, how they cause Melancholy_.

It is an old saying, [2161]"A blow with a word strikes deeper than a blow
with a sword:" and many men are as much galled with a calumny, a scurrilous
and bitter jest, a libel, a pasquil, satire, apologue, epigram, stage-play
or the like, as with any misfortune whatsoever. Princes and potentates,
that are otherwise happy, and have all at command, secure and free, _quibus
potentia sceleris impunitatem fecit_, are grievously vexed with these
pasquilling libels, and satires: they fear a railing [2162]Aretine, more
than an enemy in the field, which made most princes of his time (as some
relate) "allow him a liberal pension, that he should not tax them in his
satires." [2163]The Gods had their Momus, Homer his Zoilus, Achilles his
Thersites, Philip his Demades: the Caesars themselves in Rome were commonly
taunted. There was never wanting a Petronius, a Lucian in those times, nor
will be a Rabelais, an Euphormio, a Boccalinus in ours. Adrian the sixth
pope [2164]was so highly offended, and grievously vexed with pasquillers at
Rome, he gave command that his statue should be demolished and burned, the
ashes flung into the river Tiber, and had done it forthwith, had not
Ludovicus Suessanus, a facete companion, dissuaded him to the contrary, by
telling him, that pasquil's ashes would turn to frogs in the bottom of the
river, and croak worse and louder than before,--_genus irritabile vatum_,
and therefore [2165]Socrates in Plato adviseth all his friends, "that
respect their credits, to stand in awe of poets, for they are terrible
fellows, can praise and dispraise as they see cause." _Hinc quam sit
calamus saevior ense patet_. The prophet David complains, Psalm cxxiii. 4.
"that his soul was full of the mocking of the wealthy, and of the
despitefulness of the proud," and Psalm lv. 4. "for the voice of the
wicked, &c., and their hate: his heart trembled within him, and the terrors
of death came upon him; fear and horrible fear," &c., and Psal. lxix. 20.
"Rebuke hath broken my heart, and I am full of heaviness." Who hath not
like cause to complain, and is not so troubled, that shall fall into the
mouths of such men? for many are of so [2166]petulant a spleen; and have
that figure Sarcasmus so often in their mouths, so bitter, so foolish, as
[2167]Balthazar Castilio notes of them, that "they cannot speak, but they
must bite;" they had rather lose a friend than a jest; and what company
soever they come in, they will be scoffing, insulting over their inferiors,
especially over such as any way depend upon them, humouring, misusing, or
putting gulleries on some or other till they have made by their humouring
or gulling [2168]_ex stulto insanum_, a mope or a noddy, and all to make
themselves merry:

[2169]  ------"dummodo risum
        Excutiat sibi; non hic cuiquam parcit amico;"

Friends, neuters, enemies, all are as one, to make a fool a madman, is
their sport, and they have no greater felicity than to scoff and deride
others; they must sacrifice to the god of laughter, with them in [2170]
Apuleius, once a day, or else they shall be melancholy themselves; they
care not how they grind and misuse others, so they may exhilarate their own
persons. Their wits indeed serve them to that sole purpose, to make sport,
to break a scurrile jest, which is _levissimus ingenii fructus_, the froth
of wit, as [2171]Tully holds, and for this they are often applauded, in all
other discourse, dry, barren, stramineous, dull and heavy, here lies their
genius, in this they alone excel, please themselves and others. Leo
Decimus, that scoffing pope, as Jovius hath registered in the Fourth book
of his life, took an extraordinary delight in humouring of silly fellows,
and to put gulleries upon them, [2172]by commending some, persuading others
to this or that: he made _ex stolidis stultissimos, et maxime ridiculos, ex
stultis insanos_; soft fellows, stark noddies; and such as were foolish,
quite mad before he left them. One memorable example he recites there, of
Tarascomus of Parma, a musician that was so humoured by Leo Decimus, and
Bibiena his second in this business, that he thought himself to be a man of
most excellent skill, (who was indeed a ninny) they [2173]"made him set
foolish songs, and invent new ridiculous precepts, which they did highly
commend," as to tie his arm that played on the lute, to make him strike a
sweeter stroke, [2174]"and to pull down the arras hangings, because the
voice would be clearer, by reason of the reverberation of the wall." In the
like manner they persuaded one Baraballius of Caieta, that he was as good a
poet as Petrarch; would have him to be made a laureate poet, and invite all
his friends to his instalment; and had so possessed the poor man with a
conceit of his excellent poetry, that when some of his more discreet
friends told him of his folly, he was very angry with them, and said
[2175]"they envied his honour, and prosperity:" it was strange (saith
Jovius) to see an old man of 60 years, a venerable and grave old man, so
gulled. But what cannot such scoffers do, especially if they find a soft
creature, on whom they may work? nay, to say truth, who is so wise, or so
discreet, that may not be humoured in this kind, especially if some
excellent wits shall set upon him; he that mads others, if he were so
humoured, would be as mad himself, as much grieved and tormented; he might
cry with him in the comedy, _Proh Jupiter tu homo me, adigas ad insaniam_.
For all is in these things as they are taken; if he be a silly soul, and do
not perceive it, 'tis well, he may haply make others sport, and be no whit
troubled himself; but if he be apprehensive of his folly, and take it to
heart, then it torments him worse than any lash: a bitter jest, a slander,
a calumny, pierceth deeper than any loss, danger, bodily pain, or injury
whatsoever; _leviter enim volat_, (it flies swiftly) as Bernard of an
arrow, _sed graviter vulnerat_, (but wounds deeply), especially if it shall
proceed from a virulent tongue, "it cuts" (saith David) "like a two-edged
sword. They shoot bitter words as arrows," Psal. lxiv. 5. "And they smote
with their tongues," Jer. xviii. 18, and that so hard, that they leave an
incurable wound behind them. Many men are undone by this means, moped, and
so dejected, that they are never to be recovered; and of all other men
living, those which are actually melancholy, or inclined to it, are most
sensible, (as being suspicious, choleric, apt to mistake) and impatient of
an injury in that kind: they aggravate, and so meditate continually of it,
that it is a perpetual corrosive, not to be removed, till time wear it out.
Although they peradventure that so scoff, do it alone in mirth and
merriment, and hold it _optimum aliena frui insania_, an excellent thing to
enjoy another man's madness; yet they must know, that it is a mortal sin
(as [2176]Thomas holds) and as the prophet [2177]David denounceth, "they
that use it, shall never dwell in God's tabernacle."

Such scurrilous jests, flouts, and sarcasms, therefore, ought not at all to
be used; especially to our betters, to those that are in misery, or any way
distressed: for to such, _aerumnarum incrementa sunt_, they multiply grief,
and as [2178]he perceived, _In multis pudor, in multis iracundia_, &c.,
many are ashamed, many vexed, angered, and there is no greater cause or
furtherer of melancholy. Martin Cromerus, in the Sixth book of his history,
hath a pretty story to this purpose, of Vladislaus, the second king of
Poland, and Peter Dunnius, earl of Shrine; they had been hunting late, and
were enforced to lodge in a poor cottage. When they went to bed, Vladislaus
told the earl in jest, that his wife lay softer with the abbot of Shrine;
he not able to contain, replied, _Et tua cum Dabesso_, and yours with
Dabessus, a gallant young gentleman in the court, whom Christina the queen
loved. _Tetigit id dictum Principis animum_, these words of his so galled
the prince, that he was long after _tristis et cogitabundus_, very sad and
melancholy for many months; but they were the earl's utter undoing: for
when Christina heard of it, she persecuted him to death. Sophia the
empress, Justinian's wife, broke a bitter jest upon Narsetes the eunuch, a
famous captain then disquieted for an overthrow which he lately had: that
he was fitter for a distaff and to keep women company, than to wield a
sword, or to be general of an army: but it cost her dear, for he so far
distasted it, that he went forthwith to the adverse part, much troubled in
his thoughts, caused the Lombards to rebel, and thence procured many
miseries to the commonwealth. Tiberius the emperor withheld a legacy from
the people of Rome, which his predecessor Augustus had lately given, and
perceiving a fellow round a dead corse in the ear, would needs know
wherefore he did so; the fellow replied, that he wished the departed soul
to signify to Augustus, the commons of Rome were yet unpaid: for this
bitter jest the emperor caused him forthwith to be slain, and carry the
news himself. For this reason, all those that otherwise approve of jests in
some cases, and facete companions, (as who doth not?) let them laugh and be
merry, _rumpantur et illa Codro_, 'tis laudable and fit, those yet will by
no means admit them in their companies, that are any way inclined to this
malady: _non jocandum cum iis qui miseri sunt, et aerumnosi_, no jesting
with a discontented person. 'Tis Castilio's caveat, [2179]Jo. Pontanus, and
[2180]Galateus, and every good man's.

       "Play with me, but hurt me not:
        Jest with me, but shame me not."

Comitas is a virtue between rusticity and scurrility, two extremes, as
affability is between flattery and contention, it must not exceed; but be
still accompanied with that [2181][Greek: ablabeia] or innocency, _quae
nemini nocet, omnem injuriae, oblationem abhorrens_, hurts no man, abhors
all offer of injury. Though a man be liable to such a jest or obloquy, have
been overseen, or committed a foul fact, yet it is no good manners or
humanity, to upbraid, to hit him in the teeth with his offence, or to scoff
at such a one; 'tis an old axiom, _turpis in reum omnis exprobratio_.[2182]
I speak not of such as generally tax vice, Barclay, Gentilis, Erasmus,
Agrippa, Fishcartus, &c., the Varronists and Lucians of our time,
satirists, epigrammists, comedians, apologists, &c., but such as personate,
rail, scoff, calumniate, perstringe by name, or in presence offend;

[2183] "Ludit qui stolida procacitate
        Non est Sestius ille sed caballus:"

'Tis horse-play this, and those jests (as he [2184]saith) "are no better
than injuries," biting jests, _mordentes et aculeati_, they are poisoned
jests, leave a sting behind them, and ought not to be used.

[2185] "Set not thy foot to make the blind to fall;
          Nor wilfully offend thy weaker brother:
        Nor wound the dead with thy tongue's bitter gall,
          Neither rejoice thou in the fall of other."

If these rules could be kept, we should have much more ease and quietness
than we have, less melancholy, whereas on the contrary, we study to misuse
each other, how to sting and gall, like two fighting boors, bending all our
force and wit, friends, fortune, to crucify [2186]one another's souls; by
means of which, there is little content and charity, much virulency,
hatred, malice, and disquietness among us.

SUBSECT. V.--_Loss of Liberty, Servitude, Imprisonment, how they cause

To this catalogue of causes, I may well annex loss of liberty, servitude,
or imprisonment, which to some persons is as great a torture as any of the
rest. Though they have all things convenient, sumptuous houses to their
use, fair walks and gardens, delicious bowers, galleries, good fare and
diet, and all things correspondent, yet they are not content, because they
are confined, may not come and go at their pleasure, have and do what they
will, but live [2187]_aliena quadra_, at another man's table and command.
As it is [2188]in meats so it is in all other things, places, societies,
sports; let them be never so pleasant, commodious, wholesome, so good; yet
_omnium rerum est satietas_, there is a loathing satiety of all things. The
children of Israel were tired with manna, it is irksome to them so to live,
as to a bird in his cage, or a dog in his kennel, they are weary of it.
They are happy, it is true, and have all things, to another man's judgment,
that heart can wish, or that they themselves can desire, _bona si sua
norint_: yet they loathe it, and are tired with the present: _Est natura
hominum novitatis avida_; men's nature is still desirous of news, variety,
delights; and our wandering affections are so irregular in this kind, that
they must change, though it must be to the worst. Bachelors must be
married, and married men would be bachelors; they do not love their own
wives, though otherwise fair, wise, virtuous, and well qualified, because
they are theirs; our present estate is still the worst, we cannot endure
one course of life long, _et quod modo voverat, odit_, one calling long,
_esse in honore juvat, mox displicet_; one place long, [2189]_Romae Tibur
amo, ventosus Tybure Romam_, that which we earnestly sought, we now
contemn. _Hoc quosdam agit ad mortem_, (saith [2190]Seneca) _quod proposita
saepe mutando in eadem revolvuntur, et non relinquunt novitati locum:
Fastidio caepit esse vita, et ipsus mundus, et subit illud rapidissimarum
deliciarum, Quousque eadem_? this alone kills many a man, that they are
tied to the same still, as a horse in a mill, a dog in a wheel, they run
round, without alteration or news, their life groweth odious, the world
loathsome, and that which crosseth their furious delights, what? still the
same? Marcus Aurelius and Solomon, that had experience of all worldly
delights and pleasure, confessed as much of themselves; what they most
desired, was tedious at last, and that their lust could never be satisfied,
all was vanity and affliction of mind.

Now if it be death itself, another hell, to be glutted with one kind of
sport, dieted with one dish, tied to one place; though they have all things
otherwise as they can desire, and are in heaven to another man's opinion,
what misery and discontent shall they have, that live in slavery, or in
prison itself? _Quod tristius morte, in servitute vivendum_, as Hermolaus
told Alexander in [2191]Curtius, worse than death is bondage: [2192]_hoc
animo scito omnes fortes, ut mortem servituti anteponant_, All brave men at
arms (Tully holds) are so affected. [2193]_Equidem ego is sum, qui
servitutem extremum omnium malorum esse arbitror_: I am he (saith Boterus)
that account servitude the extremity of misery. And what calamity do they
endure, that live with those hard taskmasters, in gold mines (like those
30,000 [2194]Indian slaves at Potosi, in Peru), tin-mines, lead-mines,
stone-quarries, coal-pits, like so many mouldwarps under ground, condemned
to the galleys, to perpetual drudgery, hunger, thirst, and stripes, without
all hope of delivery? How are those women in Turkey affected, that most
part of the year come not abroad; those Italian and Spanish dames, that are
mewed up like hawks, and locked up by their jealous husbands? how tedious
is it to them that live in stoves and caves half a year together? as in
Iceland, Muscovy, or under the [2195]pole itself, where they have six
months' perpetual night. Nay, what misery and discontent do they endure,
that are in prison? They want all those six non-natural things at once,
good air, good diet, exercise, company, sleep, rest, ease, &c., that are
bound in chains all day long, suffer hunger, and (as [2196]Lucian describes
it) "must abide that filthy stink, and rattling of chains, howlings,
pitiful outcries, that prisoners usually make; these things are not only
troublesome, but intolerable." They lie nastily among toads and frogs in a
dark dungeon, in their own dung, in pain of body, in pain of soul, as
Joseph did, Psal. cv. 18, "they hurt his feet in the stocks, the iron
entered his soul." They live solitary, alone, sequestered from all company
but heart-eating melancholy; and for want of meat, must eat that bread of
affliction, prey upon themselves. Well might [2197]Arculanus put long
imprisonment for a cause, especially to such as have lived jovially, in all
sensuality and lust, upon a sudden are estranged and debarred from all
manner of pleasures: as were Huniades, Edward, and Richard II., Valerian
the Emperor, Bajazet the Turk. If it be irksome to miss our ordinary
companions and repast for once a day, or an hour, what shall it be to lose
them for ever? If it be so great a delight to live at liberty, and to enjoy
that variety of objects the world affords; what misery and discontent must
it needs bring to him, that shall now be cast headlong into that Spanish
inquisition, to fall from heaven to hell, to be cubbed up upon a sudden,
how shall he be perplexed, what shall become of him? [2198] Robert Duke of
Normandy being imprisoned by his youngest brother Henry I., _ab illo die
inconsolabili dolore in carcere contabuit_, saith Matthew Paris, from that
day forward pined away with grief. [2199]Jugurtha that generous captain,
"brought to Rome in triumph, and after imprisoned, through anguish of his
soul, and melancholy, died." [2200]Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, the second
man from King Stephen (he that built that famous castle of [2201]Devizes in
Wiltshire,) was so tortured in prison with hunger, and all those calamities
accompanying such men, [2202]_ut vivere noluerit, mori nescierit_, he would
not live, and could not die, between fear of death, and torments of life.
Francis King of France was taken prisoner by Charles V., _ad mortem fere
melancholicus_, saith Guicciardini, melancholy almost to death, and that in
an instant. But this is as clear as the sun, and needs no further

SUBSECT. VI.--_Poverty and Want, Causes of Melancholy_.

Poverty and want are so violent oppugners, so unwelcome guests, so much
abhorred of all men, that I may not omit to speak of them apart. Poverty,
although (if considered aright, to a wise, understanding, truly regenerate,
and contented man) it be _donum Dei_, a blessed estate, the way to heaven,
as [2203]Chrysostom calls it, God's gift, the mother of modesty, and much
to be preferred before riches (as shall be shown in his [2204]place), yet
as it is esteemed in the world's censure, it is a most odious calling, vile
and base, a severe torture, _summum scelus_, a most intolerable burden; we
[2205]shun it all, _cane pejus et angue_ (worse than a dog or a snake), we
abhor the name of it, [2206]_Paupertas fugitur, totoque arcessitur orbe_,
as being the fountain of all other miseries, cares, woes, labours, and
grievances whatsoever. To avoid which, we will take any pains,--_extremos
currit mercator ad Indos_, we will leave no haven, no coast, no creek of
the world unsearched, though it be to the hazard of our lives, we will dive
to the bottom of the sea, to the bowels of the earth, [2207]five, six,
seven, eight, nine hundred fathom deep, through all five zones, and both
extremes of heat and cold: we will turn parasites and slaves, prostitute
ourselves, swear and lie, damn our bodies and souls, forsake God, abjure
religion, steal, rob, murder, rather than endure this insufferable yoke of
poverty, which doth so tyrannise, crucify, and generally depress us.

For look into the world, and you shall see men most part esteemed according
to their means, and happy as they are rich: [2208]_Ubique tanti quisque
quantum habuit fuit_. If he be likely to thrive, and in the way of
preferment, who but he? In the vulgar opinion, if a man be wealthy, no
matter how he gets it, of what parentage, how qualified, how virtuously
endowed, or villainously inclined; let him be a bawd, a gripe, an usurer, a
villain, a pagan, a barbarian, a wretch, [2209]Lucian's tyrant, "on whom
you may look with less security than on the sun;" so that he be rich (and
liberal withal) he shall be honoured, admired, adored, reverenced, and
highly [2210]magnified. "The rich is had in reputation because of his
goods," Eccl. x. 31. He shall be befriended: "for riches gather many
friends," Prov. xix. 4,--_multos numerabit amicos_, all [2211]happiness
ebbs and flows with his money. He shall be accounted a gracious lord, a
Mecaenas, a benefactor, a wise, discreet, a proper, a valiant, a fortunate
man, of a generous spirit, _Pullus Jovis, et gallinae, filius albae_: a
hopeful, a good man, a virtuous, honest man. _Quando ego ie Junonium
puerum, et matris partum vere aureum_, as [2212]Tully said of Octavianus,
while he was adopted Caesar, and an heir [2213]apparent of so great a
monarchy, he was a golden child. All [2214]honour, offices, applause, grand
titles, and turgent epithets are put upon him, _omnes omnia bona dicere_;
all men's eyes are upon him, God bless his good worship, his honour;
[2215]every man speaks well of him, every man presents him, seeks and sues
to him for his love, favour, and protection, to serve him, belong unto him,
every man riseth to him, as to Themistocles in the Olympics, if he speak,
as of Herod, _Vox Dei, non hominis_, the voice of God, not of man. All the
graces, Veneres, pleasures, elegances attend him, [2216] golden fortune
accompanies and lodgeth with him; and as to those Roman emperors, is placed
in his chamber.

[2217]  ------"Secura naviget aura,
        Fortunamque suo temperet arbitrio:"

he may sail as he will himself, and temper his estate at his pleasure,
jovial days, splendour and magnificence, sweet music, dainty fare, the good
things, and fat of the land, fine clothes, rich attires, soft beds, down
pillows are at his command, all the world labours for him, thousands of
artificers are his slaves to drudge for him, run, ride, and post for him:
[2218]Divines (for _Pythia Philippisat_) lawyers, physicians, philosophers,
scholars are his, wholly devote to his service. Every man seeks his
[2219]acquaintance, his kindred, to match with him, though he be an oaf, a
ninny, a monster, a goose-cap, _uxorem ducat Danaen_, [2220]when, and whom
he will, _hunc optant generum Rex et Regina_--he is an excellent
[2221]match for my son, my daughter, my niece, &c. _Quicquid calcaverit
hic, Rosa fiet_, let him go whither he will, trumpets sound, bells ring,
&c., all happiness attends him, every man is willing to entertain him, he
sups in [2222]Apollo wheresoever he comes; what preparation is made for his
[2223]entertainment? fish and fowl, spices and perfumes, all that sea and
land affords. What cookery, masking, mirth to exhilarate his person?

[2224] "Da Trebio, pone ad Trebium, vis frater ab illia

What dish will your good worship eat of?

[2225]  ------"dulcia poma,
        Et quoscunque feret cultus tibi fundus honores,
        Ante Larem, gustet venerabilior Lare dives."

       "Sweet apples, and whate'er thy fields afford,
        Before thy Gods be serv'd, let serve thy Lord."

What sport will your honour have? hawking, hunting, fishing, fowling,
bulls, bears, cards, dice, cocks, players, tumblers, fiddlers, jesters,
&c., they are at your good worship's command. Fair houses, gardens,
orchards, terraces, galleries, cabinets, pleasant walks, delightsome
places, they are at hand: [2226]_in aureis lac, vinum in argenteis,
adolescentulae ad nutum speciosae_, wine, wenches, &c. a Turkish paradise,
a heaven upon earth. Though he be a silly soft fellow, and scarce have
common sense, yet if he be borne to fortunes (as I have said) [2227]_jure
haereditario sapere jubetur_, he must have honour and office in his course:
[2228]_Nemo nisi dives honore dignus_ (Ambros. _offic. 21._) none so worthy
as himself: he shall have it, _atque esto quicquid Servius aut Labeo_. Get
money enough and command [2229]kingdoms, provinces, armies, hearts, hands,
and affections; thou shalt have popes, patriarchs to be thy chaplains and
parasites: thou shalt have (Tamerlane-like) kings to draw thy coach, queens
to be thy laundresses, emperors thy footstools, build more towns and cities
than great Alexander, Babel towers, pyramids and Mausolean tombs, &c.
command heaven and earth, and tell the world it is thy vassal, _auro emitur
diadema, argento caelum panditur, denarius philosophum conducit, nummus jus
cogit, obolus literatum pascit, metallum sanitatem conciliat, aes amicos
conglutinat_. [2230]And therefore not without good cause, John de Medicis,
that rich Florentine, when he lay upon his death-bed, calling his sons,
Cosmo and Laurence, before him, amongst other sober sayings, repeated this,
_animo quieto digredior, quod vos sanos et divites post me relinquam_, "It
doth me good to think yet, though I be dying, that I shall leave you, my
children, sound and rich:" for wealth sways all. It is not with us, as
amongst those Lacedaemonian senators of Lycurgus in Plutarch, "He preferred
that deserved best, was most virtuous and worthy of the place, [2231]not
swiftness, or strength, or wealth, or friends carried it in those days:"
but _inter optimos optimus, inter temperantes temperantissimus_, the most
temperate and best. We have no aristocracies but in contemplation, all
oligarchies, wherein a few rich men domineer, do what they list, and are
privileged by their greatness. [2232]They may freely trespass, and do as
they please, no man dare accuse them, no not so much as mutter against
them, there is no notice taken of it, they may securely do it, live after
their own laws, and for their money get pardons, indulgences, redeem their
souls from purgatory and hell itself,--_clausum possidet arca Jovem_. Let
them be epicures, or atheists, libertines, Machiavellians, (as they often
are) [2233]_Et quamvis perjuris erit, sine gente, cruentus_, they may go
to heaven through the eye of a needle, if they will themselves, they may be
canonised for saints, they shall be [2234]honourably interred in Mausolean
tombs, commended by poets, registered in histories, have temples and
statues erected to their names,--_e manibus illis--nascentur violae_.--If
he be bountiful in his life, and liberal at his death, he shall have one to
swear, as he did by Claudius the Emperor in Tacitus, he saw his soul go to
heaven, and be miserably lamented at his funeral. _Ambubalarum collegia,
&c. Trimalcionis topanta_ in Petronius _recta in caelum abiit_, went right
to heaven: a, base quean, [2235]"thou wouldst have scorned once in thy
misery to have a penny from her;" and why? _modio nummos metiit_, she
measured her money by the bushel. These prerogatives do not usually belong
to rich men, but to such as are most part seeming rich, let him have but a
good [2236]outside, he carries it, and shall be adored for a god, as
[2237]Cyrus was amongst the Persians, _ob splendidum apparatum_, for his
gay attires; now most men are esteemed according to their clothes. In our
gullish times, whom you peradventure in modesty would give place to, as
being deceived by his habit, and presuming him some great worshipful man,
believe it, if you shall examine his estate, he will likely be proved a
serving man of no great note, my lady's tailor, his lordship's barber, or
some such gull, a Fastidius Brisk, Sir Petronel Flash, a mere outside. Only
this respect is given him, that wheresoever he comes, he may call for what
he will, and take place by reason of his outward habit.

But on the contrary, if he be poor, Prov. xv. 15, "all his days are
miserable," he is under hatches, dejected, rejected and forsaken, poor in
purse, poor in spirit; [2238]_prout res nobis fluit, ita et animus se
habet_; [2239]money gives life and soul. Though he be honest, wise,
learned, well-deserving, noble by birth, and of excellent good parts; yet
in that he is poor, unlikely to rise, come to honour, office, or good
means, he is contemned, neglected, _frustra sapit, inter literas esurit,
amicus molestus_. [2240]"If he speak, what babbler is this?" Ecclus, his
nobility without wealth, is [2241]_projecta vilior alga_, and he not
esteemed: _nos viles pulli nati infelicibus ovis_, if once poor, we are
metamorphosed in an instant, base slaves, villains, and vile drudges;
[2242]for to be poor, is to be a knave, a fool, a wretch, a wicked, an
odious fellow, a common eyesore, say poor and say all; they are born to
labour, to misery, to carry burdens like juments, _pistum stercus comedere_
with Ulysses' companions, and as Chremilus objected in Aristophanes, [2243]
_salem lingere_, lick salt, to empty jakes, fay channels, [2244]carry out
dirt and dunghills, sweep chimneys, rub horse-heels, &c. I say nothing of
Turks, galley-slaves, which are bought [2245]and sold like juments, or
those African Negroes, or poor [2246]Indian drudges, _qui indies hinc inde
deferendis oneribus occumbunt, nam quod apud nos boves et asini vehunt,
trahunt_, &c. [2247]_Id omne misellis Indis_, they are ugly to behold, and
though erst spruce, now rusty and squalid, because poor, [2248]_immundas
fortunas aquum est squalorem sequi_, it is ordinarily so. [2249]"Others eat
to live, but they live to drudge," [2250]_servilis et misera gens nihil
recusare audet_, a servile generation, that dare refuse no
task.--[2251]_Heus tu Dromo, cape hoc flabellum, ventulum hinc facito dum
lavamus_, sirrah blow wind upon us while we wash, and bid your fellow get
him up betimes in the morning, be it fair or foul, he shall run fifty miles
afoot tomorrow, to carry me a letter to my mistress, _Socia ad pistrinam_,
Socia shall tarry at home and grind malt all day long, Tristan thresh. Thus
are they commanded, being indeed some of them as so many footstools for
rich men to tread on, blocks for them to get on horseback, or as
[2252]"walls for them to piss on." They are commonly such people, rude,
silly, superstitious idiots, nasty, unclean, lousy, poor, dejected,
slavishly humble: and as [2253]Leo Afer observes of the commonalty of
Africa, _natura viliores sunt, nec apud suos duces majore in precio quam si
canes essent_: [2254]base by nature, and no more esteemed than dogs,
_miseram, laboriosam, calamitosam vitam agunt, et inopem, infelicem,
rudiores asinis, ut e brutis plane natos dicas_: no learning, no knowledge,
no civility, scarce common, sense, nought but barbarism amongst them,
_belluino more vivunt, neque calceos gestant, neque vestes_, like rogues
and vagabonds, they go barefooted and barelegged, the soles of their feet
being as hard as horse-hoofs, as [2255]Radzivilus observed at Damietta in
Egypt, leading a laborious, miserable, wretched, unhappy life, [2256]"like
beasts and juments, if not worse:" (for a [2257]Spaniard in Incatan, sold
three Indian boys for a cheese, and a hundred Negro slaves for a horse)
their discourse is scurrility, their _summum bonum_, a pot of ale. There is
not any slavery which these villains will not undergo, _inter illos
plerique latrinas evacuant, alii culinariam curant, alii stabularios agunt,
urinatores et id genus similia exercent_, &c. like those people that dwell
in the [2258]Alps, chimney-sweepers, jakes-farmers, dirt-daubers, vagrant
rogues, they labour hard some, and yet cannot get clothes to put on, or
bread to eat. For what can filthy poverty give else, but [2259]beggary,
fulsome nastiness, squalor, contempt, drudgery, labour, ugliness, hunger
and thirst; _pediculorum, et pulicum numerum_? as [2260] he well followed
it in Aristophanes, fleas and lice, _pro pallio vestem laceram, et pro
pulvinari lapidem bene magnum ad caput_, rags for his raiment, and a stone
for his pillow, _pro cathedra, ruptae caput urnae_, he sits in a broken
pitcher, or on a block for a chair, _et malvae, ramos pro panibus comedit_,
he drinks water, and lives on wort leaves, pulse, like a hog, or scraps
like a dog, _ut nunc nobis vita afficitur, quis non putabit insaniam esse,
infelicitatemque_? as Chremilus concludes his speech, as we poor men live
nowadays, who will not take our life to be [2261] infelicity, misery, and

If they be of little better condition than those base villains,
hunger-starved beggars, wandering rogues, those ordinary slaves, and
day-labouring drudges; yet they are commonly so preyed upon by [2262]
polling officers for breaking the laws, by their tyrannising landlords, so
flayed and fleeced by perpetual [2263]exactions, that though they do
drudge, fare hard, and starve their genius, they cannot live in [2264]some
countries; but what they have is instantly taken from them, the very care
they take to live, to be drudges, to maintain their poor families, their
trouble and anxiety "takes away their sleep," Sirac. xxxi. 1, it makes them
weary of their lives: when they have taken all pains, done their utmost and
honest endeavours, if they be cast behind by sickness, or overtaken with
years, no man pities them, hard-hearted and merciless, uncharitable as they
are, they leave them so distressed, to beg, steal, murmur, and [2265]
rebel, or else starve. The feeling and fear of this misery compelled those
old Romans, whom Menenius Agrippa pacified, to resist their governors:
outlaws, and rebels in most places, to take up seditious arms, and in all
ages hath caused uproars, murmurings, seditions, rebellions, thefts,
murders, mutinies, jars and contentions in every commonwealth: grudging,
repining, complaining, discontent in each private family, because they want
means to live according to their callings, bring up their children, it
breaks their hearts, they cannot do as they would. No greater misery than
for a lord to have a knight's living, a gentleman a yeoman's, not to be
able to live as his birth and place require. Poverty and want are generally
corrosives to all kinds of men, especially to such as have been in good and
flourishing estate, are suddenly distressed, [2266]nobly born, liberally
brought up, and, by some disaster and casualty miserably dejected. For the
rest, as they have base fortunes, so have they base minds correspondent,
like beetles, _e stercore orti, e stercore victus, in stercore delicium_,
as they were obscurely born and bred, so they delight in obscenity; they
are not thoroughly touched with it. _Angustas animas angusto in pectore
versant_. [2267]Yet, that which is no small cause of their torments, if
once they come to be in distress, they are forsaken of their fellows, most
part neglected, and left unto themselves; as poor [2268]Terence in Rome was
by Scipio, Laelius, and Furius, his great and noble friends.

       "Nil Publius Scipio profuit, nil ei Laelius, nil Furius,
        Tres per idem tempus qui agitabant nobiles facillime,
        Horum ille opera ne domum quident habuit conductitiam."[2269]

'Tis generally so, _Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris_, he is left cold
and comfortless, _nullas ad amissas ibit amicus opes_, all flee from him as
from a rotten wall, now ready to fall on their heads. Prov. xix. 1.
"Poverty separates them from their [2270]neighbours."

[2271] "Dum fortuna favet vultum servatis amici,
        Cum cecidit, turpi vertitis ora fuga."

       "Whilst fortune favour'd, friends, you smil'd on me,
        But when she fled, a friend I could not see."

Which is worse yet, if he be poor [2272]every man contemns him, insults
over him, oppresseth him, scoffs at, aggravates his misery.

[2273] "Quum caepit quassata domus subsidere, partes
        In proclinatas omne recumbit onus."

       "When once the tottering house begins to shrink,
        Thither comes all the weight by an instinct."

Nay they are odious to their own brethren, and dearest friends, Pro. xix.
7. "His brethren hate him if he be poor," [2274]_omnes vicini oderunt_,
"his neighbours hate him," Pro. xiv. 20, [2275]_omnes me noti ac ignoti
deserunt_, as he complained in the comedy, friends and strangers, all
forsake me. Which is most grievous, poverty makes men ridiculous, _Nil
habet infelix paupertas durius in se, quam quod ridiculos homines facit_,
they must endure [2276]jests, taunts, flouts, blows of their betters, and
take all in good part to get a meal's meat: [2277]_magnum pauperies
opprobrium, jubet quidvis et facere et pati_. He must turn parasite,
jester, fool, _cum desipientibus desipere_; saith [2278]Euripides, slave,
villain, drudge to get a poor living, apply himself to each man's humours,
to win and please, &c., and be buffeted when he hath all done, as Ulysses
was by Melanthius [2279]in Homer, be reviled, baffled, insulted over, for
[2280]_potentiorum stultitia perferenda est_, and may not so much as mutter
against it. He must turn rogue and villain; for as the saying is,
_Necessitas cogit ad turpia_, poverty alone makes men thieves, rebels,
murderers, traitors, assassins, "because of poverty we have sinned,"
Ecclus. xxvii. 1, swear and forswear, bear false witness, lie, dissemble,
anything, as I say, to advantage themselves, and to relieve their
necessities: [2281] _Culpae scelerisque magistra est_, when a man is driven
to his shifts, what will he not do?

[2282]  ------"si miserum fortuna Sinonem
        Finxit, vanum etiam mendacemque improba finget."

he will betray his father, prince, and country, turn Turk, forsake
religion, abjure God and all, _nulla tam horrenda proditio, quam illi lucri
causa_ (saith [2283]Leo Afer) _perpetrare nolint_. [2284]Plato, therefore,
calls poverty, "thievish, sacrilegious, filthy, wicked, and mischievous:"
and well he might. For it makes many an upright man otherwise, had he not
been in want, to take bribes, to be corrupt, to do against his conscience,
to sell his tongue, heart, hand, &c., to be churlish, hard, unmerciful,
uncivil, to use indirect means to help his present estate. It makes princes
to exact upon their subjects, great men tyrannise, landlords oppress,
justice mercenary, lawyers vultures, physicians harpies, friends
importunate, tradesmen liars, honest men thieves, devout assassins, great
men to prostitute their wives, daughters, and themselves, middle sort to
repine, commons to mutiny, all to grudge, murmur, and complain. A great
temptation to all mischief, it compels some miserable wretches to
counterfeit several diseases, to dismember, make themselves blind, lame, to
have a more plausible cause to beg, and lose their limbs to recover their
present wants. Jodocus Damhoderius, a lawyer of Bruges, _praxi rerum
criminal. c. 112._ hath some notable examples of such counterfeit cranks,
and every village almost will yield abundant testimonies amongst us; we
have dummerers, Abraham men, &c. And that which is the extent of misery, it
enforceth them through anguish and wearisomeness of their lives, to make
away themselves; they had rather be hanged, drowned, &c., than to live
without means.

[2285] "In mare caetiferum, ne te premat aspera egestas,
        Desili, et a celsis corrue Cerne jugis."

       "Much better 'tis to break thy neck,
          Or drown thyself i' the sea,
        Than suffer irksome poverty;
          Go make thyself away."

A Sybarite of old, as I find it registered in [2286]Athenaeus, supping in
Phiditiis in Sparta, and observing their hard fare, said it was no marvel
if the Lacedaemonians were valiant men; "for his part, he would rather run
upon a sword point (and so would any man in his wits,) than live with such
base diet, or lead so wretched a life." [2287]In Japonia, 'tis a common
thing to stifle their children if they be poor, or to make an abortion,
which Aristotle commends. In that civil commonwealth of China, [2288]the
mother strangles her child, if she be not able to bring it up, and had
rather lose, than sell it, or have it endure such misery as poor men do.
Arnobius, _lib. 7, adversus gentes_, [2289]Lactantius, _lib. 5. cap. 9._
objects as much to those ancient Greeks and Romans, "they did expose their
children to wild beasts, strangle, or knock out their brains against a
stone, in such cases." If we may give credit to [2290]Munster, amongst us
Christians in Lithuania, they voluntarily mancipate and sell themselves,
their wives and children to rich men, to avoid hunger and beggary; [2291]
many make away themselves in this extremity. Apicius the Roman, when he
cast up his accounts, and found but 100,000 crowns left, murdered himself
for fear he should be famished to death. P. Forestus, in his medicinal
observations, hath a memorable example of two brothers of Louvain that,
being destitute of means, became both melancholy, and in a discontented
humour massacred themselves. Another of a merchant, learned, wise otherwise
and discreet, but out of a deep apprehension he had of a loss at seas,
would not be persuaded but as [2292]Ventidius in the poet, he should die a
beggar. In a word, thus much I may conclude of poor men, that though they
have good [2293]parts they cannot show or make use of them: [2294]_ab
inopia ad virtutem obsepta est via_, 'tis hard for a poor man to [2295]
rise, _haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat res angusta domi_.
[2296]"The wisdom of the poor is despised, and his words are not heard."
Eccles. vi. 19. His works are rejected, contemned, for the baseness and
obscurity of the author, though laudable and good in themselves, they will
not likely take.

       "Nulla placere diu, neque vivere carmina possunt,
        Quae scribuntur atquae potoribus."------

"No verses can please men or live long that are written by water-drinkers."
Poor men cannot please, their actions, counsels, consultations, projects,
are vilified in the world's esteem, _amittunt consilium in re_, which
Gnatho long since observed. [2297]_Sapiens crepidas sibi nunquam nec soleas
fecit_, a wise man never cobbled shoes; as he said of old, but how doth he
prove it? I am sure we find it otherwise in our days, [2298] _pruinosis
horret facundia pannis_. Homer himself must beg if he want means, and as by
report sometimes he did [2299]"go from door to door, and sing ballads, with
a company of boys about him." This common misery of theirs must needs
distract, make them discontent and melancholy, as ordinarily they are,
wayward, peevish, like a weary traveller, for [2300] _Fames et mora bilem
in nares conciunt_, still murmuring and repining: _Ob inopiam morosi sunt,
quibus est male_, as Plutarch quotes out of Euripides, and that comical
poet well seconds,

[2301] "Omnes quibus res sunt minus secundae, nescio quomodo
        Suspitiosi, ad contumeliam omnia accipiunt magis,
        Propter suam impotentiam se credunt negligi."

"If they be in adversity, they are more suspicious and apt to mistake: they
think themselves scorned by reason of their misery:" and therefore many
generous spirits in such cases withdraw themselves from all company, as
that comedian [2302]Terence is said to have done; when he perceived himself
to be forsaken and poor, he voluntarily banished himself to Stymphalus, a
base town in Arcadia, and there miserably died.

[2303]  ------"ad summam inopiam redactus,
        Itaque e conspectu omnium abiit Graeciae in terram ultimam."

Neither is it without cause, for we see men commonly respected according to
their means, ([2304]_an dives sit omnes quaerunt, nemo an bonus_) and
vilified if they be in bad clothes. [2305]Philophaemen the orator was set
to cut wood, because he was so homely attired, [2306]Terentius was placed
at the lower end of Cecilius' table, because of his homely outside. [2307]
Dante, that famous Italian poet, by reason his clothes were but mean, could
not be admitted to sit down at a feast. Gnatho scorned his old familiar
friend because of his apparel, [2308]_Hominem video pannis, annisque
obsitum, hic ego illum contempsi prae me_. King Persius overcome sent a
letter to [2309]Paulus Aemilius, the Roman general; Persius P. Consuli. S.
but he scorned him any answer, _tacite exprobrans fortunam suam_ (saith
mine author) upbraiding him with a present fortune. [2310]Carolus Pugnax,
that great duke of Burgundy, made H. Holland, late duke of Exeter, exiled,
run after his horse like a lackey, and would take no notice of him: [2311]
'tis the common fashion of the world. So that such men as are poor may
justly be discontent, melancholy, and complain of their present misery, and
all may pray with [2312]Solomon, "Give me, O Lord, neither riches nor
poverty; feed me with food convenient for me."

SUBSECT. VII.--_A heap of other Accidents causing Melancholy, Death of
Friends, Losses, &c._

In this labyrinth of accidental causes, the farther I wander, the more
intricate I find the passage, _multae ambages_, and new causes as so many
by-paths offer themselves to be discussed: to search out all, were an
Herculean work, and fitter for Theseus: I will follow mine intended thread;
and point only at some few of the chiefest.

_Death of Friends_.] Amongst which, loss and death of friends may challenge
a first place, _multi tristantur_, as [2313]Vives well observes, _post
delicias, convivia, dies festos_, many are melancholy after a feast,
holiday, merry meeting, or some pleasing sport, if they be solitary by
chance, left alone to themselves, without employment, sport, or want their
ordinary companions, some at the departure of friends only whom they shall
shortly see again, weep and howl, and look after them as a cow lows after
her calf, or a child takes on that goes to school after holidays. _Ut me
levarat tuus adventus, sic discessus afflixit_, (which [2314]Tully writ to
Atticus) thy coming was not so welcome to me, as thy departure was harsh.
Montanus, _consil. 132._ makes mention of a country woman that parting with
her friends and native place, became grievously melancholy for many years;
and Trallianus of another, so caused for the absence of her husband: which
is an ordinary passion amongst our good wives, if their husband tarry out a
day longer than his appointed time, or break his hour, they take on
presently with sighs and tears, he is either robbed, or dead, some
mischance or other is surely befallen him, they cannot eat, drink, sleep,
or be quiet in mind, till they see him again. If parting of friends,
absence alone can work such violent effects, what shall death do, when they
must eternally be separated, never in this world to meet again? This is so
grievous a torment for the time, that it takes away their appetite, desire
of life, extinguisheth all delights, it causeth deep sighs and groans,
tears, exclamations,

        (O dulce germen matris, o sanguis meus,
        Eheu tepentes, &c.--o flos tener.)[2315]

howling, roaring, many bitter pangs, [2316]_lamentis gemituque et faemineo
ululatu Tecta fremunt_) and by frequent meditation extends so far
sometimes, [2317]"they think they see their dead friends continually in
their eyes," _observantes imagines_, as Conciliator confesseth he saw his
mother's ghost presenting herself still before him. _Quod nimis miseri
volunt, hoc facile credunt_, still, still, still, that good father, that
good son, that good wife, that dear friend runs in their minds: _Totus
animus hac una cogitatione defixus est_, all the year long, as [2318]Pliny
complains to Romanus, "methinks I see Virginius, I hear Virginius, I talk
with Virginius," &c.

[2319] "Te sine, vae misero mihi, lilia nigra videntur,
        Pallentesque rosae, nec dulce rubens hyacinthus,
        Nullos nec myrtus, noc laurus spirat odores."

They that are most staid and patient, are so furiously carried headlong by
the passion of sorrow in this case, that brave discreet men otherwise,
oftentimes forget themselves, and weep like children many months together,
[2320]_as if that they to water would_, and will not be comforted. They are
gone, they are gone; what shall I do?

       "Abstulit atra dies et funere mersit acerbo,
        Quis dabit in lachrymas fontem mihi? quis satis altos
        Accendet gemitus, et acerbo verba dolori?
        Exhaurit pietas oculos, et hiantia frangit
        Pectora, nec plenos avido sinit edere questus,
        Magna adeo jactura premit," &c.

       "Fountains of tears who gives, who lends me groans,
        Deep sighs sufficient to express my moans?
        Mine eyes are dry, my breast in pieces torn,
        My loss so great, I cannot enough mourn."

So Stroza Filius, that elegant Italian poet, in his Epicedium, bewails his
father's death, he could moderate his passions in other matters, (as he
confesseth) but not in this, lie yields wholly to sorrow,

       "Nunc fateor do terga malis, mens illa fatiscit,
        Indomitus quondam vigor et constantia mentis."

How doth [2321]Quintilian complain for the loss of his son, to despair
almost: Cardan lament his only child in his book _de libris propriis_, and
elsewhere in many of his tracts, [2322]St. Ambrose his brother's death? _an
ego possum non cogitare de te, aut sine lachrymis cogitare? O amari dies, o
flebiles noctes_, &c. "Can I ever cease to think of thee, and to think with
sorrow? O bitter days, O nights of sorrow," &c. Gregory Nazianzen, that
noble Pulcheria! _O decorem, &c. flos recens, pullulans_, &c. Alexander, a
man of most invincible courage, after Hephestion's death, as Curtius
relates, _triduum jacuit ad moriendum obstinatus_, lay three days together
upon the ground, obstinate, to die with him, and would neither eat, drink,
nor sleep. The woman that communed with Esdras (_lib. 2. cap. 10._) when
her son fell down dead. "fled into the field, and would not return into the
city, but there resolved to remain, neither to eat nor drink, but mourn and
fast until she died." "Rachel wept for her children, and would not be
comforted because they were not." Matt. ii. 18. So did Adrian the emperor
bewail his Antinous; Hercules, Hylas; Orpheus, Eurydice; David, Absalom; (O
my dear son Absalom) Austin his mother Monica, Niobe her children, insomuch
that the [2323]poets feigned her to be turned into a stone, as being
stupefied through the extremity of grief. [2324]_Aegeas, signo lugubri
filii consternatus, in mare se praecipitatem dedit_, impatient of sorrow
for his son's death, drowned, himself. Our late physicians are full of such
examples. Montanus _consil. 242._ [2325]had a patient troubled with this
infirmity, by reason of her husband's death, many years together.
Trincavellius, _l. 1. c. 14._ hath such another, almost in despair, after
his [2326]mother's departure, _ut se ferme praecipitatem daret_; and ready
through distraction to make away himself: and in his Fifteenth counsel,
tells a story of one fifty years of age, "that grew desperate upon his
mother's death;" and cured by Fallopius, fell many years after into a
relapse, by the sudden death of a daughter which he had, and could never
after be recovered. The fury of this passion is so violent sometimes, that
it daunts whole kingdoms and cities. Vespasian's death was pitifully
lamented all over the Roman empire, _totus orbis lugebat_, saith Aurelius
Victor. Alexander commanded the battlements of houses to be pulled down,
mules and horses to have their manes shorn off, and many common soldiers to
be slain, to accompany his dear Hephestion's death; which is now practised
amongst the Tartars, when [2327]a great Cham dieth, ten or twelve thousand
must be slain, men and horses, all they meet; and among those the
[2328]Pagan Indians, their wives and servants voluntarily die with them.
Leo Decimus was so much bewailed in Rome after his departure, that as
Jovius gives out, [2329]_communis salus, publica hilaritas_, the common
safety of all good fellowship, peace, mirth, and plenty died with him,
_tanquam eodem sepulchro cum Leone condita lugebantur_: for it was a golden
age whilst he lived, [2330]but after his decease an iron season succeeded,
_barbara vis et foeda vastitas, et dira malorum omnium incommoda_, wars,
plagues, vastity, discontent. When Augustus Caesar died, saith Paterculus,
_orbis ruinam timueramus_, we were all afraid, as if heaven had fallen upon
our heads. [2331]Budaeus records, how that, at Lewis the Twelfth his death,
_tam subita mutatio, ut qui prius digito coelum attingere videbantur, nunc
humi derepente serpere, sideratos esse diceres_, they that were erst in
heaven, upon a sudden, as if they had been planet-strucken, lay grovelling
on the ground;

[2332] "Concussis cecidere animis, seu frondibus ingens
        Sylva dolet lapsis"------

they looked like cropped trees. [2333]At Nancy in Lorraine, when Claudia
Valesia, Henry the Second French king's sister, and the duke's wife
deceased, the temples for forty days were all shut up, no prayers nor
masses, but in that room where she was. The senators all seen in black,
"and for a twelvemonth's space throughout the city, they were forbid to
sing or dance."

[2334] "Non ulli pastos illis egre diebus
        Frigida (Daphne) boves ad flumina, nulla nec amnem
        Libavit quadrupes, nec graminis attigit herbam."

       "The swains forgot their sheep, nor near the brink
        Of running waters brought their herds to drink;
        The thirsty cattle, of themselves, abstained
        From water, and their grassy fare disdain'd."

How were we affected here in England for our Titus, _deliciae, humani
generis_, Prince Henry's immature death, as if all our dearest friends'
lives had exhaled with his? [2335]Scanderbeg's death was not so much
lamented in Epirus. In a word, as [2336]he saith of Edward the First at the
news of Edward of Caernarvon his son's birth, _immortaliter gavisus_, he
was immortally glad, may we say on the contrary of friends' deaths,
_immortaliter gementes_, we are diverse of us as so many turtles, eternally
dejected with it.

There is another sorrow, which arises from the loss of temporal goods and
fortunes, which equally afflicts, and may go hand in hand with the
preceding; loss of time, loss of honour, office, of good name, of labour,
frustrate hopes, will much torment; but in my judgment, there is no torture
like unto it, or that sooner procureth this malady and mischief:

[2337] "Ploratur lachrymis amissa pecunia veris:"

       "Lost money is bewailed with grief sincere."

it wrings true tears from our eyes, many sighs, much sorrow from our
hearts, and often causes habitual melancholy itself, Guianerius _tract. 15.
5._ repeats this for an especial cause: [2338]"Loss of friends, and loss of
goods, make many men melancholy, as I have often seen by continual
meditation of such things." The same causes Arnoldus Villanovanus
inculcates, _Breviar. l. 1. c. 18._ _ex rerum amissione, damno, amicorum
morte_, &c. Want alone will make a man mad, to be _Sans argent_ will cause
a deep and grievous melancholy. Many persons are affected like [2339]
Irishmen in this behalf, who if they have a good scimitar, had rather have
a blow on their arm, than their weapon hurt: they will sooner lose their
life, than their goods: and the grief that cometh hence, continueth long
(saith [2340]Plater) "and out of many dispositions, procureth an habit."
[2341]Montanus and Frisemelica cured a young man of 22 years of age, that
so became melancholy, _ab amissam pecuniam_, for a sum of money which he
had unhappily lost. Sckenkius hath such another story of one melancholy,
because he overshot himself, and spent his stock in unnecessary building.
[2342]Roger that rich bishop of Salisbury, _exutus opibus et castris a Rege
Stephano_, spoiled of his goods by king Stephen, _vi doloris absorptus,
atque in amentiam versus, indecentia fecit_, through grief ran mad, spoke
and did he knew not what. Nothing so familiar, as for men in such cases,
through anguish of mind to make away themselves. A poor fellow went to hang
himself, (which Ausonius hath elegantly expressed in a neat [2343]Epigram)
but finding by chance a pot of money, flung away the rope, and went merrily
home, but he that hid the gold, when he missed it, hanged himself with that
rope which the other man had left, in a discontented humour.

       "At qui condiderat, postquam non reperit aurum,
        Aptavit collo, quem reperit laqueum."

Such feral accidents can want and penury produce. Be it by suretyship,
shipwreck, fire, spoil and pillage of soldiers, or what loss soever, it
boots not, it will work the like effect, the same desolation in provinces
and cities, as well as private persons. The Romans were miserably dejected
after the battle of Cannae, the men amazed for fear, the stupid women tore
their hair and cried. The Hungarians, when their king Ladislaus and bravest
soldiers were slain by the Turks, _Luctus publicus_, &c. The Venetians when
their forces were overcome by the French king Lewis, the French and Spanish
kings, pope, emperor, all conspired against them, at Cambray, the French
herald denounced open war in the senate: _Lauredane Venetorum dux_, &c.,
and they had lost Padua, Brixia, Verona, Forum Julii, their territories in
the continent, and had now nothing left, but the city of Venice itself, _et
urbi quoque ipsi_ (saith [2344]Bembus) _timendum putarent_, and the loss of
that was likewise to be feared, _tantus repente dolor omnes tenuit, ut
nunquam, alias_, &c., they were pitifully plunged, never before in such
lamentable distress. _Anno_ 1527, when Rome was sacked by Burbonius, the
common soldiers made such spoil, that fair [2345]churches were turned to
stables, old monuments and books made horse-litter, or burned like straw;
relics, costly pictures defaced; altars demolished, rich hangings, carpets,
&c., trampled in the dirt. [2346]Their wives and loveliest daughters
constuprated by every base cullion, as Sejanus' daughter was by the hangman
in public, before their fathers and husbands' faces. Noblemen's children,
and of the wealthiest citizens, reserved for princes' beds, were prostitute
to every common soldier, and kept for concubines; senators and cardinals
themselves dragged along the streets, and put to exquisite torments, to
confess where their money was hid; the rest, murdered on heaps, lay
stinking in the streets; infants' brains dashed out before their mothers'
eyes. A lamentable sight it was to see so goodly a city so suddenly
defaced, rich citizens sent a begging to Venice, Naples, Ancona, &c., that
erst lived in all manner of delights. [2347]"Those proud palaces that even
now vaunted their tops up to heaven, were dejected as low as hell in an
instant." Whom will not such misery make discontent? Terence the poet
drowned himself (some say) for the loss of his comedies, which suffered
shipwreck. When a poor man hath made many hungry meals, got together a
small sum, which he loseth in an instant; a scholar spent many an hour's
study to no purpose, his labours lost, &c., how should it otherwise be? I
may conclude with Gregory, _temporalium amor, quantum afficit, cum haeret
possessio, tantum quum subtrahitur, urit dolor_; riches do not so much
exhilarate us with their possession, as they torment us with their loss.

Next to sorrow still I may annex such accidents as procure fear; for
besides those terrors which I have [2348]before touched, and many other
fears (which are infinite) there is a superstitious fear, one of the three
great causes of fear in Aristotle, commonly caused by prodigies and dismal
accidents, which much trouble many of us, (_Nescio quid animus mihi
praesagit mali._) As if a hare cross the way at our going forth, or a mouse
gnaw our clothes: if they bleed three drops at nose, the salt falls towards
them, a black spot appear in their nails, &c., with many such, which Delrio
_Tom. 2. l. 3. sect. 4._ Austin Niphus in his book _de Auguriis._ Polydore
Virg. _l. 3. de Prodigas_. Sarisburiensis _Polycrat. l. 1. c. 13._ discuss
at large. They are so much affected, that with the very strength of
imagination, fear, and the devil's craft, [2349]"they pull those
misfortunes they suspect, upon their own heads, and that which they fear,
shall come upon them," as Solomon fortelleth, Prov. x. 24. and Isaiah
denounceth, lxvi. 4. which if [2350]"they could neglect and contemn, would
not come to pass," _Eorum vires nostra resident opinione, ut morbi gravitas
?grotantium cogitatione_, they are intended and remitted, as our opinion is
fixed, more or less. _N. N. dat poenas_, saith [2351]Crato of such a one,
_utinam non attraheret_: he is punished, and is the cause of it [2352]

[2353]_Dum fata fugimus fata stulti incurrimus_, the thing that I feared,
saith Job, is fallen upon me.

As much we may say of them that are troubled with their fortunes; or ill
destinies foreseen: _multos angit praecientia malorum_: The foreknowledge
of what shall come to pass, crucifies many men: foretold by astrologers, or
wizards, _iratum ob coelum_, be it ill accident, or death itself: which
often falls out by God's permission; _quia daemonem timent_ (saith
Chrysostom) _Deus ideo permittit accidere_. Severus, Adrian, Domitian, can
testify as much, of whose fear and suspicion, Sueton, Herodian, and the
rest of those writers, tell strange stories in this behalf. [2354]Montanus
_consil. 31._ hath one example of a young man, exceeding melancholy upon
this occasion. Such fears have still tormented mortal men in all ages, by
reason of those lying oracles, and juggling priests. [2355]There was a
fountain in Greece, near Ceres' temple in Achaia, where the event of such
diseases was to be known; "A glass let down by a thread," &c. Amongst those
Cyanean rocks at the springs of Lycia, was the oracle of Thrixeus Apollo,
"where all fortunes were foretold, sickness, health, or what they would
besides:" so common people have been always deluded with future events. At
this day, _Metus futurorum maxime torquet Sinas_, this foolish fear,
mightily crucifies them in China: as [2356]Matthew Riccius the Jesuit
informeth us, in his commentaries of those countries, of all nations they
are most superstitious, and much tormented in this kind, attributing so
much to their divinators, _ut ipse metus fidem faciat_, that fear itself
and conceit, cause it to [2357]fall out: If he foretell sickness such a
day, that very time they will be sick, _vi metus afflicti in aegritudinem
cadunt_; and many times die as it is foretold. A true saying, _Timor
mortis, morte pejor_, the fear of death is worse than death itself, and the
memory of that sad hour, to some fortunate and rich men, "is as bitter as
gall," Eccl. xli. 1. _Inquietam nobis vitam facit mortis metus_, a worse
plague cannot happen to a man, than to be so troubled in his mind; 'tis
_triste divortium_, a heavy separation, to leave their goods, with so much
labour got, pleasures of the world, which they have so deliciously enjoyed,
friends and companions whom they so dearly loved, all at once. Axicchus the
philosopher was bold and courageous all his life, and gave good precepts
_de contemnenda morte_, and against the vanity of the world, to others; but
being now ready to die himself, he was mightily dejected, _hac luce
privabor? his orbabor bonis_? [2358]he lamented like a child, &c. And
though Socrates himself was there to comfort him, _ubi pristina virtutum
jactatio O Axioche_? "where is all your boasted virtue now, my friend?" yet
he was very timorous and impatient of death, much troubled in his mind,
_Imbellis pavor et impatientia_, &c. "O Clotho," Megapetus the tyrant in
Lucian exclaims, now ready to depart, "let me live a while longer. [2359]I
will give thee a thousand talents of gold, and two boles besides, which I
took from Cleocritus, worth a hundred talents apiece." "Woe's me," [2360]
saith another, "what goodly manors shall I leave! what fertile fields! what
a fine house! what pretty children! how many servants! who shall gather my
grapes, my corn? Must I now die so well settled? Leave all, so richly and
well provided? Woe's me, what shall I do?" [2361]_Animula vagula, blandula,
qua nunc abibis in loca_?

To these tortures of fear and sorrow, may well be annexed curiosity, that
irksome, that tyrannising care, _nimia solicitudo_, [2362]"superfluous
industry about unprofitable things, and their qualities," as Thomas defines
it: an itching humour or a kind of longing to see that which is not to be
seen, to do that which ought not to be done, to know that [2363]secret
which should not be known, to eat of the forbidden fruit. We commonly
molest and tire ourselves about things unfit and unnecessary, as Martha
troubled herself to little purpose. Be it in religion, humanity, magic,
philosophy, policy, any action or study, 'tis a needless trouble, a mere
torment. For what else is school divinity, how many doth it puzzle? what
fruitless questions about the Trinity, resurrection, election,
predestination, reprobation, hell-fire, &c., how many shall be saved,
damned? What else is all superstition, but an endless observation of idle
ceremonies, traditions? What is most of our philosophy but a labyrinth of
opinions, idle questions, propositions, metaphysical terms? Socrates,
therefore, held all philosophers, cavillers, and mad men, _circa subtilia
Cavillatores pro insanis habuit, palam eos arguens_, saith [2364]Eusebius,
because they commonly sought after such things _quae nec percipi a nobis
neque comprehendi posset_, or put case they did understand, yet they were
altogether unprofitable. For what matter is it for us to know how high the
Pleiades are, how far distant Perseus and Cassiopeia from us, how deep the
sea, &c., we are neither wiser, as he follows it, nor modester, nor better,
nor richer, nor stronger for the knowledge of it. _Quod supra nos nihil ad,
nos_, I may say the same of those genethliacal studies, what is astrology
but vain elections, predictions? all magic, but a troublesome error, a
pernicious foppery? physic, but intricate rules and prescriptions?
philology, but vain criticisms? logic, needless sophisms? metaphysics
themselves, but intricate subtleties, and fruitless abstractions? alchemy,
but a bundle of errors? to what end are such great tomes? why do we spend
so many years in their studies? Much better to know nothing at all, as
those barbarous Indians are wholly ignorant, than as some of us, to be so
sore vexed about unprofitable toys: _stultus labor est ineptiarum_, to
build a house without pins, make a rope of sand, to what end? _cui bono_?
He studies on, but as the boy told St. Austin, when I have laved the sea
dry, thou shalt understand the mystery of the Trinity. He makes
observations, keeps times and seasons; and as [2365]Conradus the emperor
would not touch his new bride, till an astrologer had told him a masculine
hour, but with what success? He travels into Europe, Africa, Asia,
searcheth every creek, sea, city, mountain, gulf, to what end? See one
promontory (said Socrates of old), one mountain, one sea, one river, and
see all. An alchemist spends his fortunes to find out the philosopher's
stone forsooth, cure all diseases, make men long-lived, victorious,
fortunate, invisible, and beggars himself, misled by those seducing
impostors (which he shall never attain) to make gold; an antiquary consumes
his treasure and time to scrape up a company of old coins, statues, rules,
edicts, manuscripts, &c., he must know what was done of old in Athens,
Rome, what lodging, diet, houses they had, and have all the present news at
first, though never so remote, before all others, what projects, counsels,
consultations, &c., _quid Juno in aurem insusurret Jovi_, what's now
decreed in France, what in Italy: who was he, whence comes he, which way,
whither goes he, &c. Aristotle must find out the motion of Euripus; Pliny
must needs see Vesuvius, but how sped they? One loseth goods, another his
life; Pyrrhus will conquer Africa first, and then Asia: he will be a sole
monarch, a second immortal, a third rich; a fourth commands. [2366]
_Turbine magno spes solicitae in urbibus errant_; we run, ride, take
indefatigable pains, all up early, down late, striving to get that which we
had better be without, (Ardelion's busybodies as we are) it were much
fitter for us to be quiet, sit still, and take our ease. His sole study is
for words, that they be--_Lepidae lexeis compostae, ut tesserulae omnes_,
not a syllable misplaced, to set out a stramineous subject: as thine is
about apparel, to follow the fashion, to be terse and polite, 'tis thy sole
business: both with like profit. His only delight is building, he spends
himself to get curious pictures, intricate models and plots, another is
wholly ceremonious about titles, degrees, inscriptions: a third is
over-solicitous about his diet, he must have such and such exquisite
sauces, meat so dressed, so far-fetched, _peregrini aeris volucres_, so
cooked, &c., something to provoke thirst, something anon to quench his
thirst. Thus he redeems his appetite with extraordinary charge to his
purse, is seldom pleased with any meal, whilst a trivial stomach useth all
with delight and is never offended. Another must have roses in winter,
_alieni temporis flores_, snow-water in summer, fruits before they can be
or are usually ripe, artificial gardens and fishponds on the tops of
houses, all things opposite to the vulgar sort, intricate and rare, or else
they are nothing worth. So busy, nice, curious wits, make that
insupportable in all vocations, trades, actions, employments, which to
duller apprehensions is not offensive, earnestly seeking that which others
so scornfully neglect. Thus through our foolish curiosity do we macerate
ourselves, tire our souls, and run headlong, through our indiscretion,
perverse will, and want of government, into many needless cares, and
troubles, vain expenses, tedious journeys, painful hours; and when all is
done, _quorsum haec? cui bono_? to what end?

[2367] "Nescire velle quae Magister maximus
        Docere non vult, erudita inscitia est."

_Unfortunate marriage_.] Amongst these passions and irksome accidents,
unfortunate marriage may be ranked: a condition of life appointed by God
himself in Paradise, an honourable and happy estate, and as great a
felicity as can befall a man in this world, [2368]if the parties can agree
as they ought, and live as [2369]Seneca lived with his Paulina; but if they
be unequally matched, or at discord, a greater misery cannot be expected,
to have a scold, a slut, a harlot, a fool, a fury or a fiend, there can be
no such plague. Eccles. xxvi. 14, "He that hath her is as if he held a
scorpion," &c. xxvi. 25, "a wicked wife makes a sorry countenance, a heavy
heart, and he had rather dwell with a lion than keep house with such a
wife." Her [2370]properties Jovianus Pontanus hath described at large,
_Ant. dial. Tom. 2_, under the name of Euphorbia. Or if they be not equal
in years, the like mischief happens. Cecilius in _Agellius lib. 2. cap.
23_, complains much of an old wife, _dum ejus morti inhio, egomet mortuus
vivo inter vivos_, whilst I gape after her death, I live a dead man amongst
the living, or if they dislike upon any occasion,

[2371] "Judge who that are unfortunately wed
        What 'tis to come into a loathed bed."

The same inconvenience befalls women.

[2372] "At vos o duri miseram lugete parentes,
        Si ferro aut laqueo laeva hac me exsolvere sorte

       "Hard hearted parents both lament my fate,
        If self I kill or hang, to ease my state."

[2373]A young gentlewoman in Basil was married, saith Felix Plater,
_observat. l. 1_, to an ancient man against her will, whom she could not
affect; she was continually melancholy, and pined away for grief; and
though her husband did all he could possibly to give her content, in a
discontented humour at length she hanged herself. Many other stories he
relates in this kind. Thus men are plagued with women; they again with men,
when they are of divers humours and conditions; he a spendthrift, she
sparing; one honest, the other dishonest, &c. Parents many times disquiet
their children, and they their parents. [2374]"A foolish son is an
heaviness to his mother." _Injusta noverca_: a stepmother often vexeth a
whole family, is matter of repentance, exercise of patience, fuel of
dissension, which made Cato's son expostulate with his father, why he
should offer to marry his client Solinius' daughter, a young wench, _Cujus
causa novercam induceret_; what offence had he done, that he should marry

Unkind, unnatural friends, evil neighbours, bad servants, debts and
debates, &c., 'twas Chilon's sentence, _comes aeris alieni et litis est
miseria_, misery and usury do commonly together; suretyship is the bane of
many families, _Sponde, praesto noxa est_: "he shall be sore vexed that is
surety for a stranger," Prov. xi. 15, "and he that hateth suretyship is
sure." Contention, brawling, lawsuits, falling out of neighbours and
friends.--_discordia demens_ (Virg. _Aen. 6_,) are equal to the first,
grieve many a man, and vex his soul. _Nihil sane miserabilius eorum
mentibus_, (as [2375]Boter holds) "nothing so miserable as such men, full
of cares, griefs, anxieties, as if they were stabbed with a sharp sword,
fear, suspicion, desperation, sorrow, are their ordinary companions." Our
Welshmen are noted by some of their [2376]own writers, to consume one
another in this kind; but whosoever they are that use it, these are their
common symptoms, especially if they be convict or overcome, [2377]cast in a
suit. Arius put out of a bishopric by Eustathius, turned heretic, and lived
after discontented all his life. [2378]Every repulse is of like nature;
_heu quanta de spe decidi_! Disgrace, infamy, detraction, will almost
effect as much, and that a long time after. Hipponax, a satirical poet, so
vilified and lashed two painters in his iambics, _ut ambo laqueo se
suffocarent_, [2379]Pliny saith, both hanged themselves. All oppositions,
dangers, perplexities, discontents, [2380]to live in any suspense, are of
the same rank: _potes hoc sub casu ducere somnos_? Who can be secure in
such cases? Ill-bestowed benefits, ingratitude, unthankful friends, much
disquiet and molest some. Unkind speeches trouble as many; uncivil carriage
or dogged answers, weak women above the rest, if they proceed from their
surly husbands, are as bitter as gall, and not to be digested. A glassman's
wife in Basil became melancholy because her husband said he would marry
again if she died. "No cut to unkindness," as the saying is, a frown and
hard speech, ill respect, a browbeating, or bad look, especially to
courtiers, or such as attend upon great persons, is present death:
_Ingenium vultu statque caditque suo_, they ebb and flow with their
masters' favours. Some persons are at their wits' ends, if by chance they
overshoot themselves, in their ordinary speeches, or actions, which may
after turn to their disadvantage or disgrace, or have any secret disclosed.
Ronseus _epist. miscel. 2_, reports of a gentlewoman 25 years old, that
falling foul with one of her gossips, was upbraided with a secret infirmity
(no matter what) in public, and so much grieved with it, that she did
thereupon _solitudines quaerere omnes ab se ablegare, ac tandem in
gravissimam incidens melancholiam, contabescere_, forsake all company,
quite moped, and in a melancholy humour pine away. Others are as much
tortured to see themselves rejected, contemned, scorned, disabled, defamed,
detracted, undervalued, or [2381]"left behind their fellows." Lucian brings
in Aetamacles, a philosopher in his _Lapith. convivio_, much discontented
that he was not invited amongst the rest, expostulating the matter, in a
long epistle, with Aristenetus their host. Praetextatus, a robed gentleman
in Plutarch, would not sit down at a feast, because he might not sit
highest, but went his ways all in a chafe. We see the common quarrelings,
that are ordinary with us, for taking of the wall, precedency, and the
like, which though toys in themselves, and things of no moment, yet they
cause many distempers, much heart-burning amongst us. Nothing pierceth
deeper than a contempt or disgrace, [2382]especially if they be generous
spirits, scarce anything affects them more than to be despised or vilified.
Crato, _consil. 16, l. 2_, exemplifies it, and common experience confirms
it. Of the same nature is oppression, Ecclus. 77, "surely oppression makes
a man mad," loss of liberty, which made Brutus venture his life, Cato kill
himself, and [2383]Tully complain, _Omnem hilaritatem in perpetuum amisi_,
mine heart's broken, I shall never look up, or be merry again, [2384]_haec
jactura intolerabilis_, to some parties 'tis a most intolerable loss.
Banishment a great misery, as Tyrteus describes it in an epigram of his,

       "Nam miserum est patria amissa, laribusque vagari
          Mendicum, et timida voce rogare cibos:
        Omnibus invisus, quocunque accesserit exul
          Semper erit, semper spretus egensque jacet," &c.

       "A miserable thing 'tis so to wander,
          And like a beggar for to whine at door,
        Contemn'd of all the world, an exile is,
          Hated, rejected, needy still and poor."

Polynices in his conference with Jocasta in [2385]Euripides, reckons up
five miseries of a banished man, the least of which alone were enough to
deject some pusillanimous creatures. Oftentimes a too great feeling of our
own infirmities or imperfections of body or mind, will shrivel us up; as if
we be long sick:

       "O beata sanitas, te praesente, amaenum
        Ver florit gratiis, absque te nemo beatus:"

O blessed health! "thou art above all gold and treasure," Ecclus. xxx. 15,
the poor man's riches, the rich man's bliss, without thee there can be no
happiness: or visited with some loathsome disease, offensive to others, or
troublesome to ourselves; as a stinking breath, deformity of our limbs,
crookedness, loss of an eye, leg, hand, paleness, leanness, redness,
baldness, loss or want of hair, &c., _hic ubi fluere caepit, diros ictus
cordi infert_, saith [2386]Synesius, he himself troubled not a little _ob
comae defectum_, the loss of hair alone, strikes a cruel stroke to the
heart. Acco, an old woman, seeing by chance her face in a true glass (for
she used false flattering glasses belike at other times, as most
gentlewomen do,) _animi dolore in insaniam delapsa est_, (Caelius
Rhodiginus _l. 17, c. 2_,) ran mad. [2387]Brotheus, the son of Vulcan,
because he was ridiculous for his imperfections, flung himself into the
fire. Lais of Corinth, now grown old, gave up her glass to Venus, for she
could hot abide to look upon it. [2388]_Qualis sum nolo, qualis eram
nequeo_. Generally to fair nice pieces, old age and foul linen are two most
odious things, a torment of torments, they may not abide the thought of it,

[2389]  ------"o deorum
        Quisquis haec audis, utinam inter errem
                Nuda leones,"

       "Antequam turpis macies decentes
        Occupet malas, teneraeque succus
        Defluat praedae, speciosa quaerro
                Pascere tigres."

       "Hear me, some gracious heavenly power,
        Let lions dire this naked corse devour.
        My cheeks ere hollow wrinkles seize.
        Ere yet their rosy bloom decays:
        While youth yet rolls its vital flood,
        Let tigers friendly riot in my blood."

To be foul, ugly, and deformed, much better be buried alive. Some are fair
but barren, and that galls them. "Hannah wept sore, did not eat, and was
troubled in spirit, and all for her barrenness," 1 Sam. 1. and Gen. 30.
Rachel said "in the anguish of her soul, give me a child, or I shall die:"
another hath too many: one was never married, and that's his hell, another
is, and that's his plague. Some are troubled in that they are obscure;
others by being traduced, slandered, abused, disgraced, vilified, or any
way injured: _minime miror eos_ (as he said) _qui insanire occipiunt ex
injuria_, I marvel not at all if offences make men mad. Seventeen
particular causes of anger and offence Aristotle reckons them up, which for
brevity's sake I must omit. No tidings troubles one; ill reports, rumours,
bad tidings or news, hard hap, ill success, cast in a suit, vain hopes, or
hope deferred, another: expectation, _adeo omnibus in rebus molesta semper
est expectatio_, as [2390]Polybius observes; one is too eminent, another
too base born, and that alone tortures him as much as the rest: one is out
of action, company, employment; another overcome and tormented with worldly
cares, and onerous business. But what [2391]tongue can suffice to speak of

Many men catch this malady by eating certain meats, herbs, roots, at
unawares; as henbane, nightshade, cicuta, mandrakes, &c. [2392]A company of
young men at Agrigentum in Sicily, came into a tavern; where after they had
freely taken their liquor, whether it were the wine itself, or something
mixed with it 'tis not yet known, [2393]but upon a sudden they began to be
so troubled in their brains, and their phantasy so crazed, that they
thought they were in a ship at sea, and now ready to be cast away by reason
of a tempest. Wherefore to avoid shipwreck and present drowning, they flung
all the goods in the house out at the windows into the street, or into the
sea, as they supposed; thus they continued mad a pretty season, and being
brought before the magistrate to give an account of this their fact, they
told him (not yet recovered of their madness) that what was done they did
for fear of death, and to avoid imminent danger: the spectators were all
amazed at this their stupidity, and gazed on them still, whilst one of the
ancientest of the company, in a grave tone, excused himself to the
magistrate upon his knees, _O viri Tritones, ego in imo jacui_, I beseech
your deities, &c. for I was in the bottom of the ship all the while:
another besought them as so many sea gods to be good unto them, and if ever
he and his fellows came to land again, [2394]he would build an altar to
their service. The magistrate could not sufficiently laugh at this their
madness, bid them sleep it out, and so went his ways. Many such accidents
frequently happen, upon these unknown occasions. Some are so caused by
philters, wandering in the sun, biting of a mad dog, a blow on the head,
stinging with that kind of spider called tarantula, an ordinary thing if we
may believe Skeuck. _l. 6. de Venenis_, in Calabria and Apulia in Italy,
Cardan, _subtil. l. 9._ Scaliger _exercitat. 185._ Their symptoms are
merrily described by Jovianus Pontanus, _Ant. dial._ how they dance
altogether, and are cured by music. [2395]Cardan speaks of certain stones,
if they be carried about one, which will cause melancholy and madness; he
calls them unhappy, as an [2396]_adamant, selenites_, &c. "which dry up the
body, increase cares, diminish sleep:" Ctesias in Persicis, makes mention
of a well in those parts, of which if any man drink, [2397]"he is mad for
24 hours." Some lose their wits by terrible objects (as elsewhere I have
more [2398]copiously dilated) and life itself many times, as Hippolitus
affrighted by Neptune's seahorses, Athemas by Juno's furies: but these
relations are common in all writers.

[2399] "Hic alias poteram, et plures subnectere causas,
        Sed jumenta vocant, et Sol inclinat, Eundum est."

       "Many such causes, much more could I say,
        But that for provender my cattle stay:
        The sun declines, and I must needs away."

These causes if they be considered, and come alone, I do easily yield, can
do little of themselves, seldom, or apart (an old oak is not felled at a
blow) though many times they are all sufficient every one: yet if they
concur, as often they do, _vis unita fortior; et quae non obsunt singula,
multa nocent_, they may batter a strong constitution; as [2400]Austin said,
"many grains and small sands sink a ship, many small drops make a flood,"
&c., often reiterated; many dispositions produce an habit.


SUBSECT. I.--_Continent, inward, antecedent, next causes and how the body
works on the mind_.

As a purlieu hunter, I have hitherto beaten about the circuit of the forest
of this microcosm, and followed only those outward adventitious causes. I
will now break into the inner rooms, and rip up the antecedent immediate
causes which are there to be found. For as the distraction of the mind,
amongst other outward causes and perturbations, alters the temperature of
the body, so the distraction and distemper of the body will cause a
distemperature of the soul, and 'tis hard to decide which of these two do
more harm to the other. Plato, Cyprian, and some others, as I have formerly
said, lay the greatest fault upon the soul, excusing the body; others again
accusing the body, excuse the soul, as a principal agent. Their reasons
are, because [2401]"the manners do follow the temperature of the body," as
Galen proves in his book of that subject, Prosper Calenius _de Atra bile_,
Jason Pratensis _c. de Mania_, Lemnius _l. 4. c. 16._ and many others. And
that which Gualter hath commented, _hom. 10. in epist. Johannis_, is most
true, concupiscence and originals in, inclinations, and bad humours, are
[2402]radical in every one of us, causing these perturbations, affections,
and several distempers, offering many times violence unto the soul. "Every
man is tempted by his own concupiscence (James i. 14), the spirit is
willing but the flesh is weak, and rebelleth against the spirit," as our
[2403]apostle teacheth us: that methinks the soul hath the better plea
against the body, which so forcibly inclines us, that we cannot resist,
_Nec nos obniti contra, nec tendere tantum sufficimus_. How the body being
material, worketh upon the immaterial soul, by mediation of humours and
spirits, which participate of both, and ill-disposed organs, Cornelius
Agrippa hath discoursed _lib. 1. de occult. Philos. cap. 63, 64, 65._
Levinus Lemnius _lib. 1. de occult. nat. mir. cap. 12. et 16. et 21.
institut. ad opt. vit_. Perkins _lib. 1. Cases of Cons. cap. 12._ T. Bright
_c. 10, 11, 12._ "in his treatise of melancholy," for as, [2404] anger,
fear, sorrow, obtrectation, emulation, &c. _si mentis intimos recessus
occuparint_, saith [2405]Lemnius, _corpori quoque infesta sunt, et illi
teterrimos morbos inferunt_, cause grievous diseases in the body, so bodily
diseases affect the soul by consent. Now the chiefest causes proceed from
the [2406]heart, humours, spirits: as they are purer, or impurer, so is the
mind, and equally suffers, as a lute out of tune, if one string or one
organ be distempered, all the rest miscarry, [2407]_corpus onustum
hesternis vitiis, animum quoque praegravat una_. The body is _domicilium
animae_, her house, abode, and stay; and as a torch gives a better light, a
sweeter smell, according to the matter it is made of; so doth our soul
perform all her actions, better or worse, as her organs are disposed; or as
wine savours of the cask wherein it is kept; the soul receives a tincture
from the body, through which it works. We see this in old men, children,
Europeans; Asians, hot and cold climes; sanguine are merry, melancholy sad,
phlegmatic dull, by reason of abundance of those humours, and they cannot
resist such passions which are inflicted by them. For in this infirmity of
human nature, as Melancthon declares, the understanding is so tied to, and
captivated by his inferior senses, that without their help he cannot
exercise his functions, and the will being weakened, hath but a small power
to restrain those outward parts, but suffers herself to be overruled by
them; that I must needs conclude with Lemnius, _spiritus et humores maximum
nocumentum obtinent_, spirits and humours do most harm in [2408]troubling
the soul. How should a man choose but be choleric and angry, that hath his
body so clogged with abundance of gross humours? or melancholy, that is so
inwardly disposed? That thence comes then this malady, madness, apoplexies,
lethargies, &c. it may not be denied.

Now this body of ours is most part distempered by some precedent diseases,
which molest his inward organs and instruments, and so _per consequens_
cause melancholy, according to the consent of the most approved physicians.
[2409]"This humour" (as Avicenna _l. 3. Fen. 1. Tract. 4. c. 18._ Arnoldus
_breviar. l. 1. c. 18._ Jacchinus _comment. in 9 Rhasis, c. 15._ Montaltus,
_c. 10._ Nicholas Piso _c. de Melan._ &c. suppose) "is begotten by the
distemperature of some inward part, innate, or left after some
inflammation, or else included in the blood after an [2410]ague, or some
other malignant disease." This opinion of theirs concurs with that of
Galen, _l. 3. c. 6. de locis affect_. Guianerius gives an instance in one
so caused by a quartan ague, and Montanus _consil. 32._ in a young man of
twenty-eight years of age, so distempered after a quartan, which had
molested him five years together; Hildesheim _spicel. 2. de Mania_, relates
of a Dutch baron, grievously tormented with melancholy after a long
[2411]ague: Galen, _l. de atra bile, c. 4._ puts the plague a cause.
Botaldus in his book _de lue vener. c. 2._ the French pox for a cause,
others, frenzy, epilepsy, apoplexy, because those diseases do often
degenerate into this. Of suppression of haemorrhoids, haemorrhagia, or
bleeding at the nose, menstruous retentions, (although they deserve a
larger explication, as being the sole cause of a proper kind of melancholy,
in more ancient maids, nuns and widows, handled apart by Rodericus a
Castro, and Mercatus, as I have elsewhere signified,) or any other
evacuation stopped, I have already spoken. Only this I will add, that this
melancholy which shall be caused by such infirmities, deserves to be pitied
of all men, and to be respected with a more tender compassion, according to
Laurentius, as coming from a more inevitable cause.

SUBSECT. II.--_Distemperature of particular Parts, causes_.

There is almost no part of the body, which being distempered, doth not
cause this malady, as the brain and his parts, heart, liver, spleen,
stomach, matrix or womb, pylorus, mirach, mesentery, hypochondries,
mesaraic veins; and in a word, saith [2412]Arculanus, "there is no part
which causeth not melancholy, either because it is adust, or doth not expel
the superfluity of the nutriment." Savanarola _Pract. major. rubric. 11.
Tract. 6. cap. 1._ is of the same opinion, that melancholy is engendered in
each particular part, and [2413]Crato _in consil. 17. lib. 2._ Gordonius,
who is _instar omnium, lib. med. partic. 2. cap. 19._ confirms as much,
putting the [2414]"matter of melancholy, sometimes in the stomach, liver,
heart, brain, spleen, mirach, hypochondries, when as the melancholy humour
resides there, or the liver is not well cleansed from melancholy blood."

The brain is a familiar and frequent cause, too hot, or too cold, [2415]
"through adust blood so caused," as Mercurialis will have it, "within or
without the head," the brain itself being distempered. Those are most apt
to this disease, [2416]"that have a hot heart and moist brain," which
Montaltus _cap. 11. de Melanch._ approves out of Halyabbas, Rhasis, and
Avicenna. Mercurialis _consil. 11._ assigns the coldness of the brain a
cause, and Salustius Salvianus _med. lect. l. 2. c. 1._ [2417]will have it
"arise from a cold and dry distemperature of the brain." Piso, Benedictus
Victorius Faventinus, will have it proceed from a [2418]"hot distemperature
of the brain;" and [2419]Montaltus _cap. 10._ from the brain's heat,
scorching the blood. The brain is still distempered by himself, or by
consent: by himself or his proper affection, as Faventinus calls it,
[2420]"or by vapours which arise from the other parts, and fume up into the
head, altering the animal facilities."

Hildesheim _spicel. 2. de Mania_, thinks it may be caused from a [2421]
"distemperature of the heart; sometimes hot; sometimes cold." A hot liver,
and a cold stomach, are put for usual causes of melancholy: Mercurialis
_consil. 11. et consil. 6. consil. 86._ assigns a hot liver and cold
stomach for ordinary causes. [2422]Monavius, in an epistle of his to Crato
in Scoltzius, is of opinion, that hypochondriacal melancholy may proceed
from a cold liver; the question is there discussed. Most agree that a hot
liver is in fault; [2423]"the liver is the shop of humours, and especially
causeth melancholy by his hot and dry distemperature." [2424]"The stomach
and mesaraic veins do often concur, by reason of their obstructions, and
thence their heat cannot be avoided, and many times the matter is so adust
and inflamed in those parts, that it degenerates into hypochondriacal
melancholy." Guianerius _c. 2. Tract. 15._ holds the mesaraic veins to be a
sufficient [2425]cause alone. The spleen concurs to this malady, by all
their consents, and suppression of haemorrhoids, _dum non expurget alter a
causa lien_, saith Montaltus, if it be [2426]"too cold and dry, and do not
purge the other parts as it ought," _consil. 23._ Montanus puts the [2427]
"spleen stopped" for a great cause. [2428]Christophorus a Vega reports of
his knowledge, that he hath known melancholy caused from putrefied blood in
those seed-veins and womb; [2429]"Arculanus, from that menstruous blood
turned into melancholy, and seed too long detained (as I have already
declared) by putrefaction or adustion."

The mesenterium, or midriff, diaphragma, is a cause which the [2430]Greeks
called [Greek: phrenas]: because by his inflammation, the mind is much
troubled with convulsions and dotage. All these, most part, offend by
inflammation, corrupting humours and spirits, in this non-natural
melancholy: for from these are engendered fuliginous and black spirits. And
for that reason [2431]Montaltus _cap. 10. de causis melan._ will have "the
efficient cause of melancholy to be hot and dry, not a cold and dry
distemperature, as some hold, from the heat of the brain, roasting the
blood, immoderate heat of the liver and bowels, and inflammation of the
pylorus. And so much the rather, because that," as Galen holds, "all spices
inflame the blood, solitariness, waking, agues, study, meditation, all
which heat: and therefore he concludes that this distemperature causing
adventitious melancholy is not cold and dry, but hot and dry." But of this
I have sufficiently treated in the matter of melancholy, and hold that this
may be true in non-natural melancholy, which produceth madness, but not in
that natural, which is more cold, and being immoderate, produceth a gentle
dotage. [2432]Which opinion Geraldus de Solo maintains in his comment upon

SUBSECT. III.--_Causes of Head-Melancholy_.

After a tedious discourse of the general causes of melancholy, I am now
returned at last to treat in brief of the three particular species, and
such causes as properly appertain unto them. Although these causes
promiscuously concur to each and every particular kind, and commonly
produce their effects in that part which is most ill-disposed, and least
able to resist, and so cause all three species, yet many of them are proper
to some one kind, and seldom found in the rest. As for example,
head-melancholy is commonly caused by a cold or hot distemperature of the
brain, according to Laurentius _cap. 5 de melan_. but as [2433]Hercules de
Saxonia contends, from that agitation or distemperature of the animal
spirits alone. Salust. Salvianus, before mentioned, _lib. 2. cap. 3. de re
med._ will have it proceed from cold: but that I take of natural
melancholy, such as are fools and dote: for as Galen writes _lib. 4. de
puls. 8._ and Avicenna, [2434]"a cold and moist brain is an inseparable
companion of folly." But this adventitious melancholy which is here meant,
is caused of a hot and dry distemperature, as [2435]Damascen the Arabian
_lib. 3. cap. 22._ thinks, and most writers: Altomarus and Piso call it
[2436]"an innate burning intemperateness, turning blood and choler into
melancholy." Both these opinions may stand good, as Bruel maintains, and
Capivaccius, _si cerebrum sit calidius_, [2437]"if the brain be hot, the
animal spirits will be hot, and thence comes madness; if cold, folly."
David Crusius _Theat. morb. Hermet. lib. 2. cap. 6. de atra bile_, grants
melancholy to be a disease of an inflamed brain, but cold notwithstanding
of itself: _calida per accidens, frigida per se_, hot by accident only; I
am of Capivaccius' mind for my part. Now this humour, according to
Salvianus, is sometimes in the substance of the brain, sometimes contained
in the membranes and tunicles that cover the brain, sometimes in the
passages of the ventricles of the brain, or veins of those ventricles. It
follows many times [2438]"frenzy, long diseases, agues, long abode in hot
places, or under the sun, a blow on the head," as Rhasis informeth us: Piso
adds solitariness, waking, inflammations of the head, proceeding most part
[2439]from much use of spices, hot wines, hot meats: all which Montanus
reckons up _consil. 22._ for a melancholy Jew; and Heurnius repeats _cap.
12. de Mania_: hot baths, garlic, onions, saith Guianerius, bad air,
corrupt, much [2440]waking, &c., retention of seed or abundance, stopping
of haemorrhagia, the midriff misaffected; and according to Trallianus _l.
1. 16._ immoderate cares, troubles, griefs, discontent, study, meditation,
and, in a word, the abuse of all those six non-natural things. Hercules de
Saxonia, _cap. 16. lib. 1._ will have it caused from a [2441]cautery, or
boil dried up, or an issue. Amatus Lusitanus _cent. 2. cura. 67._ gives
instance in a fellow that had a hole in his arm, [2442]"after that was
healed, ran mad, and when the wound was open, he was cured again."
Trincavellius _consil. 13. lib. 1._ hath an example of a melancholy man so
caused by overmuch continuance in the sun, frequent use of venery, and
immoderate exercise: and in his _cons. 49. lib. 3._ from a [2443]headpiece
overheated, which caused head-melancholy. Prosper Calenus brings in
Cardinal Caesius for a pattern of such as are so melancholy by long study;
but examples are infinite.

SUBSECT. IV.--_Causes of Hypochondriacal, or Windy Melancholy_.

In repeating of these causes, I must _crambem bis coctam apponere_, say
that again which I have formerly said, in applying them to their proper
species. Hypochondriacal or flatuous melancholy, is that which the Arabians
call mirachial, and is in my judgment the most grievous and frequent,
though Bruel and Laurentius make it least dangerous, and not so hard to be
known or cured. His causes are inward or outward. Inward from divers parts
or organs, as midriff, spleen, stomach, liver, pylorus, womb, diaphragma,
mesaraic veins, stopping of issues, &c. Montaltus _cap. 15._ out of Galen
recites, [2444]"heat and obstruction of those mesaraic veins, as an
immediate cause, by which means the passage of the chilus to the liver is
detained, stopped or corrupted, and turned into rumbling and wind."
Montanus, _consil. 233_, hath an evident demonstration, Trincavelius
another, _lib. 1, cap. 1_, and Plater a third, _observat. lib. 1_, for a
doctor of the law visited with this infirmity, from the said obstruction
and heat of these mesaraic veins, and bowels; _quoniam inter ventriculum et
jecur venae effervescunt_, the veins are inflamed about the liver and
stomach. Sometimes those other parts are together misaffected; and concur
to the production of this malady: a hot liver and cold stomach, or cold
belly: look for instances in Hollerius, Victor Trincavelius, _consil. 35,
l. 3_, Hildesheim _Spicel. 2, fol. 132_, Solenander _consil. 9, pro cive
Lugdunensi_, Montanus _consil. 229_, for the Earl of Montfort in Germany,
1549, and Frisimelica in the 233 consultation of the said Montanus. I.
Caesar Claudinus gives instance of a cold stomach and over-hot liver,
almost in every consultation, _con. 89_, for a certain count; and _con.
106_, for a Polonian baron, by reason of heat the blood is inflamed, and
gross vapours sent to the heart and brain. Mercurialis subscribes to them,
_cons. 89_, [2445]"the stomach being misaffected," which he calls the king
of the belly, because if he be distempered, all the rest suffer with him,
as being deprived of their nutriment, or fed with bad nourishment, by means
of which come crudities, obstructions, wind, rumbling, griping, &c.
Hercules de Saxonia, besides heat, will have the weakness of the liver and
his obstruction a cause, _facultatem debilem jecinoris_, which he calls the
mineral of melancholy. Laurentius assigns this reason, because the liver
over-hot draws the meat undigested out of the stomach, and burneth the
humours. Montanus, _cons. 244_, proves that sometimes a cold liver may be a
cause. Laurentius _c. 12_, Trincavelius _lib. 12, consil._, and Gualter
Bruel, seems to lay the greatest fault upon the spleen, that doth not his
duty in purging the liver as he ought, being too great, or too little, in
drawing too much blood sometimes to it, and not expelling it, as P.
Cnemiandrus in a [2446]consultation of his noted _tumorem lienis_, he names
it, and the fountain of melancholy. Diocles supposed the ground of this
kind of melancholy to proceed from the inflammation of the pylorus, which
is the nether mouth of the ventricle. Others assign the mesenterium or
midriff distempered by heat, the womb misaffected, stopping of
haemorrhoids, with many such. All which Laurentius, _cap. 12_, reduceth to
three, mesentery, liver, and spleen, from whence he denominates hepatic,
splenetic, and mesaraic melancholy. Outward causes, are bad diet, care,
griefs, discontents, and in a word all those six non-natural things, as
Montanus found by his experience, _consil. 244._ Solenander _consil. 9_,
for a citizen of Lyons, in France, gives his reader to understand, that he
knew this mischief procured by a medicine of cantharides, which an
unskilful physician ministered his patient to drink _ad venerem
excitandam_. But most commonly fear, grief, and some sudden commotion, or
perturbation of the mind, begin it, in such bodies especially as are
ill-disposed. Melancthon, _tract. 14, cap. 2, de anima_, will have it as
common to men, as the mother to women, upon some grievous trouble, dislike,
passion, or discontent. For as Camerarius records in his life, Melancthon
himself was much troubled with it, and therefore could speak out of
experience. Montanus, _consil. 22, pro delirante Judaeo_, confirms it,
[2447]grievous symptoms of the mind brought him to it. Randolotius relates
of himself, that being one day very intent to write out a physician's
notes, molested by an occasion, he fell into a hypochondriacal fit, to
avoid which he drank the decoction of wormwood, and was freed.
[2448]Melancthon "(being the disease is so troublesome and frequent) holds
it a most necessary and profitable study, for every man to know the
accidents of it, and a dangerous thing to be ignorant," and would therefore
have all men in some sort to understand the causes, symptoms, and cures of

SUBSECT. V.--_Causes of Melancholy from the whole Body_.

As before, the cause of this kind of melancholy is inward or outward.
Inward, [2449]"when the liver is apt to engender such a humour, or the
spleen weak by nature, and not able to discharge his office." A melancholy
temperature, retention of haemorrhoids, monthly issues, bleeding at nose,
long diseases, agues, and all those six non-natural things increase it. But
especially [2450]bad diet, as Piso thinks, pulse, salt meat, shellfish,
cheese, black wine, &c. Mercurialis out of Averroes and Avicenna condemns
all herbs: Galen, _lib. 3, de loc. affect. cap. 7_, especially cabbage. So
likewise fear, sorrow, discontents, &c., but of these before. And thus in
brief you have had the general and particular causes of melancholy.

Now go and brag of thy present happiness, whosoever thou art, brag of thy
temperature, of thy good parts, insult, triumph, and boast; thou seest in
what a brittle state thou art, how soon thou mayst be dejected, how many
several ways, by bad diet, bad air, a small loss, a little sorrow or
discontent, an ague, &c.; how many sudden accidents may procure thy ruin,
what a small tenure of happiness thou hast in this life, how weak and silly
a creature thou art. "Humble thyself, therefore, under the mighty hand of
God," 1 Peter, v. 6, know thyself, acknowledge thy present misery, and make
right use of it. _Qui stat videat ne cadat._ Thou dost now flourish, and
hast _bona animi, corporis, et fortunae_, goods of body, mind, and fortune,
_nescis quid serus secum vesper ferat_, thou knowest not what storms and
tempests the late evening may bring with it. Be not secure then, "be sober
and watch," [2451]_fortunam reverenter habe_, if fortunate and rich; if
sick and poor, moderate thyself. I have said.


SUBSECT. I.--_Symptoms, or Signs of Melancholy in the Body_.

Parrhasius, a painter of Athens, amongst those Olynthian captives Philip of
Macedon brought home to sell, [2452]bought one very old man; and when he
had him at Athens, put him to extreme torture and torment, the better by
his example to express the pains and passions of his Prometheus, whom he
was then about to paint. I need not be so barbarous, inhuman, curious, or
cruel, for this purpose to torture any poor melancholy man, their symptoms
are plain, obvious and familiar, there needs no such accurate observation
or far-fetched object, they delineate themselves, they voluntarily betray
themselves, they are too frequent in all places, I meet them still as I go,
they cannot conceal it, their grievances are too well known, I need not
seek far to describe them.

Symptoms therefore are either [2453]universal or particular, saith
Gordonius, _lib. med. cap. 19, part. 2_, to persons, to species; "some
signs are secret, some manifest, some in the body, some in the mind, and
diversely vary, according to the inward or outward causes," Capivaccius: or
from stars, according to Jovianus Pontanus, _de reb. caelest. lib. 10, cap.
13_, and celestial influences, or from the humours diversely mixed,
Ficinus, _lib. 1, cap. 4, de sanit. tuenda_: as they are hot, cold,
natural, unnatural, intended, or remitted, so will Aetius have
_melancholica deliria multiformia_, diversity of melancholy signs.
Laurentius ascribes them to their several temperatures, delights, natures,
inclinations, continuance of time, as they are simple or mixed with other
diseases, as the causes are divers, so must the signs be, almost infinite,
Altomarus _cap. 7, art. med._ And as wine produceth divers effects, or that
herb Tortocolla in [2454]Laurentius, "which makes some laugh, some weep,
some sleep, some dance, some sing, some howl, some drink," &c. so doth this
our melancholy humour work several signs in several parties.

But to confine them, these general symptoms may be reduced to those of the
body or the mind. Those usual signs appearing in the bodies of such as are
melancholy, be these cold and dry, or they are hot and dry, as the humour
is more or less adust. From [2455]these first qualities arise many other
second, as that of [2456]colour, black, swarthy, pale, ruddy, &c., some are
_impense rubri_, as Montaltus _cap. 16_ observes out of Galen, _lib. 3, de
locis affectis_, very red and high coloured. Hippocrates in his book
[2457]_de insania et melan._ reckons up these signs, that they are [2458]
"lean, withered, hollow-eyed, look old, wrinkled, harsh, much troubled with
wind, and a griping in their bellies, or bellyache, belch often, dry
bellies and hard, dejected looks, flaggy beards, singing of the ears,
vertigo, light-headed, little or no sleep, and that interrupt, terrible and
fearful dreams," [2459]_Anna soror, quae, me suspensam insomnia terrent_?
The same symptoms are repeated by Melanelius in his book of melancholy
collected out of Galen, Ruffus, Aetius, by Rhasis, Gordonius, and all the
juniors, [2460]"continual, sharp, and stinking belchings, as if their meat
in their stomachs were putrefied, or that they had eaten fish, dry bellies,
absurd and interrupt dreams, and many fantastical visions about their eyes,
vertiginous, apt to tremble, and prone to venery." [2461]Some add
palpitation of the heart, cold sweat, as usual symptoms, and a leaping in
many parts of the body, _saltum in multis corporis partibus_, a kind of
itching, saith Laurentius, on the superficies of the skin, like a
flea-biting sometimes. [2462]Montaltus _cap. 21._ puts fixed eyes and much
twinkling of their eyes for a sign, and so doth Avicenna, _oculos habentes
palpitantes, trauli, vehementer rubicundi_, &c., _lib. 3. Fen. 1. Tract. 4.
cap. 18._ They stut most part, which he took out of Hippocrates' aphorisms.
[2463]Rhasis makes "headache and a binding heaviness for a principal
token, much leaping of wind about the skin, as well as stutting, or
tripping in speech, &c., hollow eyes, gross veins, and broad lips." To some
too, if they be far gone, mimical gestures are too familiar, laughing,
grinning, fleering, murmuring, talking to themselves, with strange mouths
and faces, inarticulate voices, exclamations, &c. And although they be
commonly lean, hirsute, uncheerful in countenance, withered, and not so
pleasant to behold, by reason of those continual fears, griefs, and
vexations, dull, heavy, lazy, restless, unapt to go about any business; yet
their memories are most part good, they have happy wits, and excellent
apprehensions. Their hot and dry brains make them they cannot sleep,
_Ingentes habent et crebras vigilias_ (Arteus) mighty and often watchings,
sometimes waking for a month, a year together. [2464]Hercules de Saxonia
faithfully averreth, that he hath heard his mother swear, she slept not for
seven months together: Trincavelius, _Tom. 2. cons. 16._ speaks of one that
waked 50 days, and Skenkius hath examples of two years, and all without
offence. In natural actions their appetite is greater than their
concoction, _multa appetunt pauca digerunt_ as Rhasis hath it, they covet
to eat, but cannot digest. And although they [2465]"do eat much, yet they
are lean, ill-liking," saith Areteus, "withered and hard, much troubled
with costiveness," crudities, oppilations, spitting, belching, &c. Their
pulse is rare and slow, except it be of the [2466]Carotides, which is very
strong; but that varies according to their intended passions or
perturbations, as Struthius hath proved at large, _Spigmaticae. artis l. 4.
c. 13._ To say truth, in such chronic diseases the pulse is not much to be
respected, there being so much superstition in it, as [2467]Crato notes,
and so many differences in Galen, that he dares say they may not be
observed, or understood of any man.

Their urine is most part pale, and low coloured, _urina pauca acris,
biliosa_ (Areteus), not much in quantity; but this, in my judgment, is all
out as uncertain as the other, varying so often according to several
persons, habits, and other occasions not to be respected in chronic
diseases. [2468]"Their melancholy excrements in some very much, in others
little, as the spleen plays his part," and thence proceeds wind,
palpitation of the heart, short breath, plenty of humidity in the stomach,
heaviness of heart and heartache, and intolerable stupidity and dullness of
spirits. Their excrements or stool hard, black to some and little. If the
heart, brain, liver, spleen, be misaffected, as usually they are, many
inconveniences proceed from them, many diseases accompany, as incubus,
[2469]apoplexy, epilepsy, vertigo, those frequent wakings and terrible
dreams, [2470]intempestive laughing, weeping, sighing, sobbing,
bashfulness, blushing, trembling, sweating, swooning, &c. [2471]All their
senses are troubled, they think they see, hear, smell, and touch that which
they do not, as shall be proved in the following discourse.

SUBSECT. II.--_Symptoms or Signs in the Mind_.

_Fear_.] Arculanus _in 9. Rhasis ad Almansor. cap. 16._ will have these
symptoms to be infinite, as indeed they are, varying according to the
parties, "for scarce is there one of a thousand that dotes alike," [2472]
Laurentius _c. 16._ Some few of greater note I will point at; and amongst
the rest, fear and sorrow, which as they are frequent causes, so if they
persevere long, according to Hippocrates [2473]and Galen's aphorisms, they
are most assured signs, inseparable companions, and characters of
melancholy; of present melancholy and habituated, saith Montaltus _cap.
11._ and common to them all, as the said Hippocrates, Galen, Avicenna, and
all Neoterics hold. But as hounds many times run away with a false cry,
never perceiving themselves to be at a fault, so do they. For Diocles of
old, (whom Galen confutes,) and amongst the juniors, [2474]Hercules de
Saxonia, with Lod. Mercatus _cap. 17. l. 1. de melan._, takes just
exceptions, at this aphorism of Hippocrates, 'tis not always true, or so
generally to be understood, "fear and sorrow are no common symptoms to all
melancholy; upon more serious consideration, I find some" (saith he) "that
are not so at all. Some indeed are sad, and not fearful; some fearful and
not sad; some neither fearful nor sad; some both." Four kinds he excepts,
fanatical persons, such as were Cassandra, Nanto, Nicostrata, Mopsus,
Proteus, the sibyls, whom [2475]Aristotle confesseth to have been deeply
melancholy. Baptista Porta seconds him, _Physiog. lib. 1, cap. 8_, they
were _atra bile perciti_: demoniacal persons, and such as speak strange
languages, are of this rank: some poets, such as laugh always, and think
themselves kings, cardinals, &c., sanguine they are, pleasantly disposed
most part, and so continue. [2476]Baptista Portia confines fear and sorrow
to them that are cold; but lovers, Sibyls, enthusiasts, he wholly excludes.
So that I think I may truly conclude, they are not always sad and fearful,
but usually so: and that [2477]without a cause, _timent de non timendis_,
(Gordonius,) _quaeque momenti non sunt_, "although not all alike" (saith
Altomarus), [2478]"yet all likely fear," [2479]"some with an extraordinary
and a mighty fear," Areteus. [2480]"Many fear death, and yet in a contrary
humour, make away themselves," Galen, _lib. 3. de loc. affec. cap. 7._ Some
are afraid that heaven will fall on their heads: some they are damned, or
shall be. [2481]"They are troubled with scruples of consciences,
distrusting God's mercies, think they shall go certainly to hell, the devil
will have them, and make great lamentation," Jason Pratensis. Fear of
devils, death, that they shall be so sick, of some such or such disease,
ready to tremble at every object, they shall die themselves forthwith, or
that some of their dear friends or near allies are certainly dead; imminent
danger, loss, disgrace still torment others, &c.; that they are all glass,
and therefore will suffer no man to come near them: that they are all cork,
as light as feathers; others as heavy as lead; some are afraid their heads
will fall off their shoulders, that they have frogs in their bellies, &c.
[2482]Montanus _consil. 23_, speaks of one "that durst not walk alone from
home, for fear he should swoon or die." A second [2483]"fears every man he
meets will rob him, quarrel with him, or kill him." A third dares not
venture to walk alone, for fear he should meet the devil, a thief, be sick;
fears all old women as witches, and every black dog or cat he sees he
suspecteth to be a devil, every person comes near him is maleficiated,
every creature, all intend to hurt him, seek his ruin; another dares not go
over a bridge, come near a pool, rock, steep hill, lie in a chamber where
cross beams are, for fear he be tempted to hang, drown, or precipitate
himself. If he be in a silent auditory, as at a sermon, he is afraid he
shall speak aloud at unawares, something indecent, unfit to be said. If he
be locked in a close room, he is afraid of being stifled for want of air,
and still carries biscuit, aquavitae, or some strong waters about him, for
fear of deliquiums, or being sick; or if he be in a throng, middle of a
church, multitude, where he may not well get out, though he sit at ease, he
is so misaffected. He will freely promise, undertake any business
beforehand, but when it comes to be performed, he dare not adventure, but
fears an infinite number of dangers, disasters, &c. Some are [2484] "afraid
to be burned, or that the [2485]ground will sink under them, or
[2486]swallow them quick, or that the king will call them in question for
some fact they never did (Rhasis _cont._) and that they shall surely be
executed." The terror of such a death troubles them, and they fear as much
and are equally tormented in mind, [2487]"as they that have committed a
murder, and are pensive without a cause, as if they were now presently to
be put to death." Plater, _cap. 3. de mentis alienat._ They are afraid of
some loss, danger, that they shall surely lose their lives, goods, and all
they have, but why they know not. Trincavelius, _consil. 13. lib. 1._ had a
patient that would needs make away himself, for fear of being hanged, and
could not be persuaded for three years together, but that he had killed a
man. Plater, _observat. lib. 1._ hath two other examples of such as feared
to be executed without a cause. If they come in a place where a robbery,
theft, or any such offence hath been done, they presently fear they are
suspected, and many times betray themselves without a cause. Lewis XI., the
French king, suspected every man a traitor that came about him, durst trust
no officer. _Alii formidolosi omnium, alii quorundam_ (Fracatorius _lib. 2.
de Intellect._) [2488]"some fear all alike, some certain men, and cannot
endure their companies, are sick in them, or if they be from home." Some
suspect [2489]treason still, others "are afraid of their [2490]dearest and
nearest friends." (_Melanelius e Galeno, Ruffo, Aetio_,) and dare not be
alone in the dark for fear of hobgoblins and devils: he suspects everything
he hears or sees to be a devil, or enchanted, and imagineth a thousand
chimeras and visions, which to his thinking he certainly sees, bugbears,
talks with black men, ghosts, goblins, &c., [2491]_Omnes se terrent aurae,
sonus excitat omnis._ Another through bashfulness, suspicion, and
timorousness will not be seen abroad, [2492]"loves darkness as life, and
cannot endure the light," or to sit in lightsome places, his hat still in
his eyes, he will neither see nor be seen by his goodwill, Hippocrates,
_lib. de Insania et Melancholia_. He dare not come in company for fear he
should be misused, disgraced, overshoot himself in gesture or speeches, or
be sick; he thinks every man observes him, aims at him, derides him, owes
him malice. Most part [2493]"they are afraid they are bewitched, possessed,
or poisoned by their enemies, and sometimes they suspect their nearest
friends: he thinks something speaks or talks within him, and he belcheth of
the poison." Christophorus a Vega, _lib. 2. cap. 1._ had a patient so
troubled, that by no persuasion or physic he could be reclaimed. Some are
afraid that they shall have every fearful disease they see others have,
hear of, or read, and dare not therefore hear or read of any such subject,
no not of melancholy itself, lest by applying to themselves that which they
hear or read, they should aggravate and increase it. If they see one
possessed, bewitched, an epileptic paroxysm, a man shaking with the palsy,
or giddy-headed, reeling or standing in a dangerous place, &c., for many
days after it runs in their minds, they are afraid they shall be so too,
they are in like danger, as Perkins _c. 12. sc. 12._ well observes in his
Cases of Conscience and many times by violence of imagination they produce
it. They cannot endure to see any terrible object, as a monster, a man
executed, a carcase, hear the devil named, or any tragical relation seen,
but they quake for fear, _Hecatas somniare sibi videntur_ (Lucian) they
dream of hobgoblins, and may not get it out of their minds a long time
after: they apply (as I have said) all they hear, see, read, to themselves;
as [2494]Felix Plater notes of some young physicians, that study to cure
diseases, catch them themselves, will be sick, and appropriate all symptoms
they find related of others, to their own persons. And therefore (_quod
iterum moneo, licet nauseam paret lectori, malo decem potius verba, decies
repetita licet abundare, quam unum desiderari_) I would advise him that is
actually melancholy not to read this tract of Symptoms, lest he disquiet or
make himself for a time worse, and more melancholy than he was before.
Generally of them all take this, _de inanibus semper conqueruntur et
timent_, saith Aretius; they complain of toys, and fear [2495]without a
cause, and still think their melancholy to be most grievous, none so bad as
they are, though it be nothing in respect, yet never any man sure was so
troubled, or in this sort. As really tormented and perplexed, in as great
an agony for toys and trifles (such things as they will after laugh at
themselves) as if they were most material and essential matters indeed,
worthy to be feared, and will not be satisfied. Pacify them for one, they
are instantly troubled with some other fear; always afraid of something
which they foolishly imagine or conceive to themselves, which never
peradventure was, never can be, never likely will be; troubled in mind upon
every small occasion, unquiet, still complaining, grieving, vexing,
suspecting, grudging, discontent, and cannot be freed so long as melancholy
continues. Or if their minds be more quiet for the present, and they free
from foreign fears, outward accidents, yet their bodies are out of tune,
they suspect some part or other to be amiss, now their head aches, heart,
stomach, spleen, &c. is misaffected, they shall surely have this or that
disease; still troubled in body, mind, or both, and through wind, corrupt
fantasy, some accidental distemper, continually molested. Yet for all this,
as [2496]Jacchinus notes, "in all other things they are wise, staid,
discreet, and do nothing unbeseeming their dignity, person, or place, this
foolish, ridiculous, and childish fear excepted;" which so much, so
continually tortures and crucifies their souls, like a barking dog that
always bawls, but seldom bites, this fear ever molesteth, and so long as
melancholy lasteth, cannot be avoided.

Sorrow is that other character, and inseparable companion, as individual as
Saint Cosmus and Damian, _fidus Achates_, as all writers witness, a common
symptom, a continual, and still without any evident cause, [2497]_moerent
omnes, et si roges eos reddere causam, non possunt_: grieving still, but
why they cannot tell: _Agelasti, moesti, cogitabundi_, they look as if they
had newly come forth of Trophonius' den. And though they laugh many times,
and seem to be extraordinary merry (as they will by fits), yet extreme
lumpish again in an instant, dull and heavy, _semel et simul_, merry and
sad, but most part sad: [2498]_Si qua placent, abeunt; inimica tenacius
haerent_: sorrow sticks by them still continually, gnawing as the vulture
did [2499]Titius' bowels, and they cannot avoid it. No sooner are their
eyes open, but after terrible and troublesome dreams their heavy hearts
begin to sigh: they are still fretting, chafing, sighing, grieving,
complaining, finding faults, repining, grudging, weeping,
_Heautontimorumenoi_, vexing themselves, [2500]disquieted in mind, with
restless, unquiet thoughts, discontent, either for their own, other men's
or public affairs, such as concern them not; things past, present, or to
come, the remembrance of some disgrace, loss, injury, abuses, &c. troubles
them now being idle afresh, as if it were new done; they are afflicted
otherwise for some danger, loss, want, shame, misery, that will certainly
come, as they suspect and mistrust. Lugubris Ate frowns upon them, insomuch
that Areteus well calls it _angorem animi_, a vexation of the mind, a
perpetual agony. They can hardly be pleased, or eased, though in other
men's opinion most happy, go, tarry, run, ride, [2501]--_post equitem sedet
atra cura_: they cannot avoid this feral plague, let them come in what
company they will, [2502]_haeret leteri lethalis arundo_, as to a deer that
is struck, whether he run, go, rest with the herd, or alone, this grief
remains: irresolution, inconstancy, vanity of mind, their fear, torture,
care, jealousy, suspicion, &c., continues, and they cannot be relieved. So
[2503]he complained in the poet,

       "Domum revertor moestus, atque animo fere
        Perturbato, atque incerto prae aegritudine,
        Assido, accurrunt servi: succos detrahunt,
        Video alios festinare, lectos sternere,
        Coenam apparare, pro se quisque sedulo
        Faciebant, quo illam mihi lenirent miseriam."

"He came home sorrowful, and troubled in his mind, his servants did all
they possibly could to please him; one pulled off his socks, another made
ready his bed, a third his supper, all did their utmost endeavours to ease
his grief, and exhilarate his person, he was profoundly melancholy, he had
lost his son, _illud angebat_, that was his Cordolium, his pain, his agony
which could not be removed."

_Taedium vitae._] Hence it proceeds many times, that they are weary of
their lives, and feral thoughts to offer violence to their own persons come
into their minds, _taedium vitae_ is a common symptom, _tarda fluunt,
ingrataque tempora_, they are soon tired with all things; they will now
tarry, now be gone; now in bed they will rise, now up, then go to bed, now
pleased, then again displeased; now they like, by and by dislike all, weary
of all, _sequitur nunc vivendi, nunc moriendi cupido_, saith Aurelianus,
_lib. 1. cap. 6_, but most part [2504]_vitam damnant_, discontent,
disquieted, perplexed upon every light, or no occasion, object: often
tempted, I say, to make away themselves: [2505]_Vivere nolunt, mori
nesciunt_: they cannot die, they will not live: they complain, weep,
lament, and think they lead a most miserable life, never was any man so
bad, or so before, every poor man they see is most fortunate in respect of
them, every beggar that comes to the door is happier than they are, they
could be contented to change lives with them, especially if they be alone,
idle, and parted from their ordinary company, molested, displeased, or
provoked: grief, fear, agony, discontent, wearisomeness, laziness,
suspicion, or some such passion forcibly seizeth on them. Yet by and by
when they come in company again, which they like, or be pleased, _suam
sententiam rursus damnant, et vitae solatia delectantur_, as Octavius
Horatianus observes, _lib. 2. cap. 5_, they condemn their former mislike,
and are well pleased to live. And so they continue, till with some fresh
discontent they be molested again, and then they are weary of their lives,
weary of all, they will die, and show rather a necessity to live, than a
desire. Claudius the emperor, as [2506] Sueton describes him, had a spice
of this disease, for when he was tormented with the pain of his stomach, he
had a conceit to make away himself. Julius Caesar Claudinus, _consil. 84._
had a Polonian to his patient, so affected, that through [2507]fear and
sorrow, with which he was still disquieted, hated his own life, wished for
death every moment, and to be freed of his misery. Mercurialis another, and
another that was often minded to despatch himself, and so continued for
many years.

_Suspicion, Jealousy._] Suspicion, and jealousy, are general symptoms: they
are commonly distrustful, apt to mistake, and amplify, _facile
irascibiles_, [2508]testy, pettish, peevish, and ready to snarl upon every
[2509]small occasion, _cum amicissimis_, and without a cause, _datum vel
non datum_, it will be _scandalum acceptum_. If they speak in jest, he
takes it in good earnest. If they be not saluted, invited, consulted with,
called to counsel, &c., or that any respect, small compliment, or ceremony
be omitted, they think themselves neglected, and contemned; for a time that
tortures them. If two talk together, discourse, whisper, jest, or tell a
tale in general, he thinks presently they mean him, applies all to himself,
_de se putat omnia dici_. Or if they talk with him, he is ready to
misconstrue every word they speak, and interpret it to the worst; he cannot
endure any man to look steadily on him, speak to him almost, laugh, jest,
or be familiar, or hem, or point, cough, or spit, or make a noise
sometimes, &c. [2510]He thinks they laugh or point at him, or do it in
disgrace of him, circumvent him, contemn him; every man looks at him, he is
pale, red, sweats for fear and anger, lest somebody should observe him. He
works upon it, and long after this false conceit of an abuse troubles him.
Montanus _consil. 22._ gives instance in a melancholy Jew, that was
_Iracundior Adria_, so waspish and suspicious, _tam facile iratus_, that no
man could tell how to carry himself in his company.

_Inconstancy._] Inconstant they are in all their actions, vertiginous,
restless, unapt to resolve of any business, they will and will not,
persuaded to and fro upon every small occasion, or word spoken: and yet if
once they be resolved, obstinate, hard to be reconciled. If they abhor,
dislike, or distaste, once settled, though to the better by odds, by no
counsel, or persuasion, to be removed. Yet in most things wavering,
irresolute, unable to deliberate, through fear, _faciunt, et mox facti
poenitent (Areteus) avari, et paulo post prodigi_. Now prodigal, and then
covetous, they do, and by-and-by repent them of that which they have done,
so that both ways they are troubled, whether they do or do not, want or
have, hit or miss, disquieted of all hands, soon weary, and still seeking
change, restless, I say, fickle, fugitive, they may not abide to tarry in
one place long.

[2511] "Romae rus optans, absentem rusticus urbem
        Tollit ad astra"------

no company long, or to persevere in any action or business.

[2512] "Et similis regum pueris, pappare minutum
        Poscit, et iratus mammae lallare recusat,"

eftsoons pleased, and anon displeased, as a man that's bitten with fleas,
or that cannot sleep turns to and fro in his bed, their restless minds are
tossed and vary, they have no patience to read out a book, to play out a
game or two, walk a mile, sit an hour, &c., erected and dejected in an
instant; animated to undertake, and upon a word spoken again discouraged.

_Passionate._] Extreme passionate, _Quicquid volunt valde volunt_; and what
they desire, they do most furiously seek; anxious ever, and very
solicitous, distrustful, and timorous, envious, malicious, profuse one
while, sparing another, but most part covetous, muttering, repining,
discontent, and still complaining, grudging, peevish, _injuriarum tenaces_,
prone to revenge, soon troubled, and most violent in all their
imaginations, not affable in speech, or apt to vulgar compliment, but
surly, dull, sad, austere; _cogitabundi_ still, very intent, and as [2513]
Albertus Durer paints melancholy, like a sad woman leaning on her arm with
fixed looks, neglected habit, &c., held therefore by some proud, soft,
sottish, or half-mad, as the Abderites esteemed of Democritus: and yet of a
deep reach, excellent apprehension, judicious, wise, and witty: for I am of
that [2514]nobleman's mind, "Melancholy advanceth men's conceits, more than
any humour whatsoever," improves their meditations more than any strong
drink or sack. They are of profound judgment in some things, although in
others _non recte judicant inquieti_, saith Fracastorius, _lib. 2. de
Intell_. And as Arculanus, _c. 16. in 9. Rhasis_, terms it, _Judicium
plerumque perversum, corrupti, cum judicant honesta inhonesta, et amicitiam
habent pro inimicitia_: they count honesty dishonesty, friends as enemies,
they will abuse their best friends, and dare not offend their enemies.
Cowards most part _et ad inferendam injuriam timidissimi_, saith Cardan,
_lib. 8. cap. 4. de rerum varietate_: loath to offend, and if they chance
to overshoot themselves in word or deed: or any small business or
circumstance be omitted, forgotten, they are miserably tormented, and frame
a thousand dangers and inconveniences to themselves, _ex musca elephantem_,
if once they conceit it: overjoyed with every good rumour, tale, or
prosperous event, transported beyond themselves: with every small cross
again, bad news, misconceived injury, loss, danger, afflicted beyond
measure, in great agony, perplexed, dejected, astonished, impatient,
utterly undone: fearful, suspicious of all. Yet again, many of them
desperate harebrains, rash, careless, fit to be assassinates, as being void
of all fear and sorrow, according to [2515]Hercules de Saxonia, "Most
audacious, and such as dare walk alone in the night, through deserts and
dangerous places, fearing none."

_Amorous_.] "They are prone to love," and [2516]easy to be taken; _Propensi
ad amorem et excandescentiam_ (Montaltus _cap. 21._) quickly enamoured, and
dote upon all, love one dearly, till they see another, and then dote on
her, _Et hanc, et hanc, et illam, et omnes_, the present moves most, and
the last commonly they love best. Yet some again _Anterotes_, cannot endure
the sight of a woman, abhor the sex, as that same melancholy [2517]duke of
Muscovy, that was instantly sick, if he came but in sight of them; and that
[2518]Anchorite, that fell into a cold palsy, when a woman was brought
before him.

_Humorous_.] Humorous they are beyond all measure, sometimes profusely
laughing, extraordinarily merry, and then again weeping without a cause,
(which is familiar with many gentlewomen,) groaning, sighing, pensive, sad,
almost distracted, _multa absurda fingunt, et a ratione aliena_ (saith
[2519]Frambesarius), they feign many absurdities, vain, void of reason: one
supposeth himself to be a dog, cock, bear, horse, glass, butter, &c. He is
a giant, a dwarf, as strong as an hundred men, a lord, duke, prince, &c.
And if he be told he hath a stinking breath, a great nose, that he is sick,
or inclined to such or such a disease, he believes it eftsoons, and
peradventure by force of imagination will work it out. Many of them are
immovable, and fixed in their conceits, others vary upon every object,
heard or seen. If they see a stage-play, they run upon that a week after;
if they hear music, or see dancing, they have nought but bagpipes in their
brain: if they see a combat, they are all for arms. [2520]If abused, an
abuse troubles them long after; if crossed, that cross, &c. Restless in
their thoughts and actions, continually meditating, _Velut aegri somnia,
vanae finguntur species_; more like dreams, than men awake, they fain a
company of antic, fantastical conceits, they have most frivolous thoughts,
impossible to be effected; and sometimes think verily they hear and see
present before their eyes such phantasms or goblins, they fear, suspect, or
conceive, they still talk with, and follow them. In fine, _cogitationes
somniantibus similes, id vigilant, quod alii somniant cogitabundi_, still,
saith Avicenna, they wake, as others dream, and such for the most part are
their imaginations and conceits, [2521]absurd, vain, foolish toys, yet they
are [2522]most curious and solicitous, continual, _et supra modum_, Rhasis
_cont. lib. 1. cap. 9._ _praemeditantur de aliqua re_. As serious in a toy,
as if it were a most necessary business, of great moment, importance, and
still, still, still thinking of it: _saeviunt in se_, macerating
themselves. Though they do talk with you, and seem to be otherwise
employed, and to your thinking very intent and busy, still that toy runs in
their mind, that fear, that suspicion, that abuse, that jealousy, that
agony, that vexation, that cross, that castle in the air, that crotchet,
that whimsy, that fiction, that pleasant waking dream, whatsoever it is.
_Nec interrogant_ (saith [2523]Fracastorius) _nec interrogatis recte
respondent_. They do not much heed what you say, their mind is on another
matter; ask what you will, they do not attend, or much intend that business
they are about, but forget themselves what they are saying, doing, or
should otherwise say or do, whither they are going, distracted with their
own melancholy thoughts. One laughs upon a sudden, another smiles to
himself, a third frowns, calls, his lips go still, he acts with his hand as
he walks, &c. 'Tis proper to all melancholy men, saith [2524]Mercurialis,
_con. 11._ "What conceit they have once entertained, to be most intent,
violent, and continually about it." _Invitas occurrit_, do what they may
they cannot be rid of it, against their wills they must think of it a
thousand times over, _Perpetuo molestantur nec oblivisci possunt_, they are
continually troubled with it, in company, out of company; at meat, at
exercise, at all times and places, [2525]_non desinunt ea, quae, minime
volunt, cogitare_, if it be offensive especially, they cannot forget it,
they may not rest or sleep for it, but still tormenting themselves,
_Sysiphi saxum volvunt sibi ipsis_, as [2526]Brunner observes, _Perpetua
calamitas et miserabile flagellum_.

_Bashfulness._] [2527]Crato, [2528]Laurentius, and Fernelius, put
bashfulness for an ordinary symptom, _sabrusticus pudor_, or _vitiosus
pudor_, is a thing which much haunts and torments them. If they have been
misused, derided, disgraced, chidden, &c., or by any perturbation of mind,
misaffected, it so far troubles them, that they become quite moped many
times, and so disheartened, dejected, they dare not come abroad, into
strange companies especially, or manage their ordinary affairs, so
childish, timorous, and bashful, they can look no man in the face; some are
more disquieted in this kind, some less, longer some, others shorter, by
fits, &c., though some on the other side (according to [2529]Fracastorius)
be _inverecundi et pertinaces_, impudent and peevish. But most part they
are very shamefaced, and that makes them with Pet. Blesensis, Christopher
Urswick, and many such, to refuse honours, offices, and preferments, which
sometimes fall into their mouths, they cannot speak, or put forth
themselves as others can, _timor hos, pudor impedit illos_, timorousness
and bashfulness hinder their proceedings, they are contented with their
present estate, unwilling to undertake any office, and therefore never
likely to rise. For that cause they seldom visit their friends, except some
familiars: _pauciloqui_, of few words, and oftentimes wholly silent. [2530]
Frambeserius, a Frenchman, had two such patients, _omnino taciturnos_,
their friends could not get them to speak: Rodericus a Fonseca _consult.
tom. 2. 85. consil._ gives instance in a young man, of twenty-seven years
of age, that was frequently silent, bashful, moped, solitary, that would
not eat his meat, or sleep, and yet again by fits apt to be angry, &c.

_Solitariness._] Most part they are, as Plater notes, _desides, taciturni,
aegre impulsi, nec nisi coacti procedunt_, &c. they will scarce be
compelled to do that which concerns them, though it be for their good, so
diffident, so dull, of small or no compliment, unsociable, hard to be
acquainted with, especially of strangers; they had rather write their minds
than speak, and above all things love solitariness. _Ob voluptatem, an ob
timorem soli sunt_? Are they so solitary for pleasure (one asks,) or pain?
for both; yet I rather think for fear and sorrow, &c.

[2531] "Hinc metuunt cupiuntque, dolent fugiuntque, nec auras
        Respiciunt, clausi tenebris, et carcere caeco."

       "Hence 'tis they grieve and fear, avoiding light,
        And shut themselves in prison dark from sight."

As Bellerophon in [2532]Homer,

       "Qui miser in sylvis moerens errabat opacis,
        Ipse suum cor edens, hominum vestigia vitans."

       "That wandered in the woods sad all alone,
        Forsaking men's society, making great moan."

They delight in floods and waters, desert places, to walk alone in
orchards, gardens, private walks, back lanes, averse from company, as
Diogenes in his tub, or Timon Misanthropus [2533], they abhor all
companions at last, even their nearest acquaintances and most familiar
friends, for they have a conceit (I say) every man observes them, will
deride, laugh to scorn, or misuse them, confining themselves therefore
wholly to their private houses or chambers, _fugiunt homines sine causa_
(saith Rhasis) _et odio habent_, _cont. l. 1. c. 9._ they will diet
themselves, feed and live alone. It was one of the chiefest reasons why the
citizens of Abdera suspected Democritus to be melancholy and mad, because
that, as Hippocrates related in his Epistle to Philopaemenes, [2534]"he
forsook the city, lived in groves and hollow trees, upon a green bank by a
brook side, or confluence of waters all day long, and all night." _Quae
quidem_ (saith he) _plurimum atra bile vexatis et melancholicis eveniunt,
deserta frequentant, hominumque congressum aversantur_; [2535]which is an
ordinary thing with melancholy men. The Egyptians therefore in their
hieroglyphics expressed a melancholy man by a hare sitting in her form, as
being a most timorous and solitary creature, Pierius _Hieroglyph. l. 12._
But this, and all precedent symptoms, are more or less apparent, as the
humour is intended or remitted, hardly perceived in some, or not all, most
manifest in others. Childish in some, terrible in others; to be derided in
one, pitied or admired in another; to him by fits, to a second continuate:
and howsoever these symptoms be common and incident to all persons, yet
they are the more remarkable, frequent, furious and violent in melancholy
men. To speak in a word, there is nothing so vain, absurd, ridiculous,
extravagant, impossible, incredible, so monstrous a chimera, so prodigious
and strange, [2536]such as painters and poets durst not attempt, which they
will not really fear, feign, suspect and imagine unto themselves: and that
which [2537]Lod. Vives said in a jest of a silly country fellow, that
killed his ass for drinking up the moon, _ut lunam mundo redderet_, you may
truly say of them in earnest; they will act, conceive all extremes,
contrarieties, and contradictions, and that in infinite varieties.
_Melancholici plane incredibilia sibi persuadent, ut vix omnibus saeculis
duo reperti sint, qui idem imaginati sint (Erastus de Lamiis)_, scarce two
of two thousand that concur in the same symptoms. The tower of Babel never
yielded such confusion of tongues, as the chaos of melancholy doth variety
of symptoms. There is in all melancholy _similitudo dissimilis_, like men's
faces, a disagreeing likeness still; and as in a river we swim in the same
place, though not in the same numerical water; as the same instrument
affords several lessons, so the same disease yields diversity of symptoms.
Which howsoever they be diverse, intricate, and hard to be confined, I will
adventure yet in such a vast confusion and generality to bring them into
some order; and so descend to particulars.

SUBSECT. III.--_Particular Symptoms from the influence of Stars, parts of
the Body, and Humours_.

Some men have peculiar symptoms, according to their temperament and crisis,
which they had from the stars and those celestial influences, variety of
wits and dispositions, as Anthony Zara contends, _Anat. ingen. sect. 1.
memb. 11, 12, 13, 14._ _plurimum irritant influentiae, caelestes, unde
cientur animi aegritudines et morbi corporum_. [2538]One saith, diverse
diseases of the body and mind proceed from their influences, [2539]as I
have already proved out of Ptolemy, Pontanus, Lemnius, Cardan, and others
as they are principal significators of manners, diseases, mutually
irradiated, or lords of the geniture, &c. Ptolomeus in his centiloquy,
Hermes, or whosoever else the author of that tract, attributes all these
symptoms, which are in melancholy men, to celestial influences: which
opinion Mercurialis _de affect, lib. cap. 10._ rejects; but, as I say,
[2540]Jovianus Pontanus and others stiffly defend. That some are solitary,
dull, heavy, churlish; some again blithe, buxom, light, and merry, they
ascribe wholly to the stars. As if Saturn be predominant in his nativity,
and cause melancholy in his temperature, then [2541]he shall be very
austere, sullen, churlish, black of colour, profound in his cogitations,
full of cares, miseries, and discontents, sad and fearful, always silent,
solitary, still delighting in husbandry, in woods, orchards, gardens,
rivers, ponds, pools, dark walks and close: _Cogitationes sunt velle
aedificare, velle arbores plantare, agros colere_, &c. To catch birds,
fishes, &c. still contriving and musing of such matters. If Jupiter
domineers, they are more ambitious, still meditating of kingdoms,
magistracies, offices, honours, or that they are princes, potentates, and
how they would carry themselves, &c. If Mars, they are all for wars, brave
combats, monomachies, testy, choleric, harebrain, rash, furious, and
violent in their actions. They will feign themselves victors, commanders,
are passionate and satirical in their speeches, great braggers, ruddy of
colour. And though they be poor in show, vile and base, yet like Telephus
and Peleus in the [2542]poet, _Ampullas jactant et sesquipedalia verba_,
"forget their swelling and gigantic words," their mouths are full of
myriads, and tetrarchs at their tongues' end. If the sun, they will be
lords, emperors, in conceit at least, and monarchs, give offices, honours,
&c. If Venus, they are still courting of their mistresses, and most apt to
love, amorously given, they seem to hear music, plays, see fine pictures,
dancers, merriments, and the like. Ever in love, and dote on all they see.
Mercurialists are solitary, much in contemplation, subtle, poets,
philosophers, and musing most part about such matters. If the moon have a
hand, they are all for peregrinations, sea voyages, much affected with
travels, to discourse, read, meditate of such things; wandering in their
thoughts, diverse, much delighting in waters, to fish, fowl, &c.

But the most immediate symptoms proceed from the temperature itself, and
the organical parts, as head, liver, spleen, mesaraic veins, heart, womb,
stomach, &c., and most especially from distemperature of spirits (which, as
[2543]Hercules de Saxonia contends, are wholly immaterial), or from the
four humours in those seats, whether they be hot or cold, natural,
unnatural, innate or adventitious, intended or remitted, simple or mixed,
their diverse mixtures, and several adustions, combinations, which may be
as diversely varied, as those [2544]four first qualities in [2545] Clavius,
and produce as many several symptoms and monstrous fictions as wine doth
effect, which as Andreas Bachius observes, _lib. 3. de vino, cap. 20._ are
infinite. Of greater note be these.

If it be natural melancholy, as Lod. Mercatus, _lib. 1. cap. 17. de melan._
T. Bright. _c. 16._ hath largely described, either of the spleen, or of the
veins, faulty by excess of quantity, or thickness of substance, it is a
cold and dry humour, as Montanus affirms, _consil. 26_ the parties are sad,
timorous and fearful. Prosper Calenus, in his book _de atra bile_, will
have them to be more stupid than ordinary, cold, heavy, solitary, sluggish.
_Si multam atram bilem et frigidam habent_. Hercules de Saxonia, _c. 19. l.
7._ [2546]"holds these that are naturally melancholy, to be of a leaden
colour or black," and so doth Guianerius, _c. 3. tract. 15._ and such as
think themselves dead many times, or that they see, talk with black men,
dead men, spirits and goblins frequently, if it be in excess. These
symptoms vary according to the mixture of those four humours adust, which
is unnatural melancholy. For as Trallianus hath written, _cap. 16. l. 7._
[2547]"There is not one cause of this melancholy, nor one humour which
begets, but divers diversely intermixed, from whence proceeds this variety
of symptoms:" and those varying again as they are hot or cold. [2548]"Cold
melancholy" (saith Benedic. Vittorius Faventinus _pract. mag._) "is a cause
of dotage, and more mild symptoms, if hot or more adust, of more violent
passions, and furies." Fracastorius, _l. 2. de intellect._ will have us to
consider well of it, [2549]"with what kind of melancholy every one is
troubled, for it much avails to know it; one is enraged by fervent heat,
another is possessed by sad and cold; one is fearful, shamefaced; the other
impudent and bold;" as Ajax, _Arma rapit superosque furens inpraelia
poscit_: quite mad or tending to madness. _Nunc hos, nunc impetit illos._
Bellerophon on the other side, _solis errat male sanus in agris_, wanders
alone in the woods; one despairs, weeps, and is weary of his life, another
laughs, &c. All which variety is produced from the several degrees of heat
and cold, which [2550]Hercules de Saxonia will have wholly proceed from the
distemperature of spirits alone, animal especially, and those immaterial,
the next and immediate causes of melancholy, as they are hot, cold, dry,
moist, and from their agitation proceeds that diversity of symptoms, which
he reckons up, in the [2551]thirteenth chap. of his Tract of Melancholy,
and that largely through every part. Others will have them come from the
diverse adustion of the four humours, which in this unnatural melancholy,
by corruption of blood, adust choler, or melancholy natural, [2552]"by
excessive distemper of heat turned, in comparison of the natural, into a
sharp lye by force of adustion, cause, according to the diversity of their
matter, diverse and strange symptoms," which T. Bright reckons up in his
following chapter. So doth [2553]Arculanus, according to the four principal
humours adust, and many others.

For example, if it proceed from phlegm, (which is seldom and not so
frequently as the rest) [2554]it stirs up dull symptoms, and a kind of
stupidity, or impassionate hurt: they are sleepy, saith [2555]Savanarola,
dull, slow, cold, blockish, ass-like, _Asininam melancholiam_, [2556]
Melancthon calls it, "they are much given to weeping, and delight in
waters, ponds, pools, rivers, fishing, fowling," &c. (Arnoldus _breviar. 1.
cap. 18._) They are [2557]pale of colour, slothful, apt to sleep, heavy;
[2558]much troubled with headache, continual meditation, and muttering to
themselves; they dream of waters, [2559]that they are in danger of
drowning, and fear such things, Rhasis. They are fatter than others that
are melancholy, of a muddy complexion, apter to spit, [2560] sleep, more
troubled with rheum than the rest, and have their eyes still fixed on the
ground. Such a patient had Hercules de Saxonia, a widow in Venice, that was
fat and very sleepy still; Christophorus a Vega another affected in the
same sort. If it be inveterate or violent, the symptoms are more evident,
they plainly denote and are ridiculous to others, in all their gestures,
actions, speeches; imagining impossibilities, as he in Christophorus a
Vega, that thought he was a tun of wine, [2561]and that Siennois, that
resolved within himself not to piss, for fear he should drown all the town.

If it proceed from blood adust, or that there be a mixture of blood in it,
[2562]"such are commonly ruddy of complexion, and high-coloured," according
to Salust. Salvianus, and Hercules de Saxonia. And as Savanarola, Vittorius
Faventinus Emper. farther adds, [2563]"the veins of their eyes be red, as
well as their faces." They are much inclined to laughter, witty and merry,
conceited in discourse, pleasant, if they be not far gone, much given to
music, dancing, and to be in women's company. They meditate wholly on such
things, and think [2564]"they see or hear plays, dancing, and suchlike
sports" (free from all fear and sorrow, as [2565]Hercules de Saxonia
supposeth.) If they be more strongly possessed with this kind of
melancholy, Arnoldus adds, _Breviar. lib. 1. cap. 18._ Like him of Argos in
the Poet, that sate laughing [2566]all day long, as if he had been at a
theatre. Such another is mentioned by [2567]Aristotle, living at Abydos, a
town of Asia Minor, that would sit after the same fashion, as if he had
been upon a stage, and sometimes act himself; now clap his hands, and
laugh, as if he had been well pleased with the sight. Wolfius relates of a
country fellow called Brunsellius, subject to this humour, [2568]"that
being by chance at a sermon, saw a woman fall off from a form half asleep,
at which object most of the company laughed, but he for his part was so
much moved, that for three whole days after he did nothing but laugh, by
which means he was much weakened, and worse a long time following." Such a
one was old Sophocles, and Democritus himself had _hilare delirium_, much
in this vein. Laurentius _cap. 3. de melan._ thinks this kind of
melancholy, which is a little adust with some mixture of blood, to be that
which Aristotle meant, when he said melancholy men of all others are most
witty, which causeth many times a divine ravishment, and a kind of
_enthusiasmus_, which stirreth them up to be excellent philosophers, poets,
prophets, &c. Mercurialis, _consil. 110._ gives instance in a young man his
patient, sanguine melancholy, [2569]"of a great wit, and excellently

If it arise from choler adust, they are bold and impudent, and of a more
harebrain disposition, apt to quarrel, and think of such things, battles,
combats, and their manhood, furious; impatient in discourse, stiff,
irrefragable and prodigious in their tenets; and if they be moved, most
violent, outrageous, [2570]ready to disgrace, provoke any, to kill
themselves and others; Arnoldus adds, stark mad by fits, [2571]"they sleep
little, their urine is subtle and fiery." (Guianerius.) "In their fits you
shall hear them speak all manner of languages, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin,
that never were taught or knew them before." Apponensis in _com. in Pro.
sec. 30._ speaks of a mad woman that spake excellent good Latin: and Rhasis
knew another, that could prophecy in her fit, and foretell things truly to
come. [2572]Guianerius had a patient could make Latin verses when the moon
was combust, otherwise illiterate. Avicenna and some of his adherents will
have these symptoms, when they happen, to proceed from the devil, and that
they are rather _demoniaci_, possessed, than mad or melancholy, or both
together, as Jason Pratensis thinks, _Immiscent se mali genii_, &c. but
most ascribe it to the humour, which opinion Montaltus _cap. 21._ stiffly
maintains, confuting Avicenna and the rest, referring it wholly to the
quality and disposition of the humour and subject. Cardan _de rerum var.
lib. 8. cap. 10._ holds these men of all others fit to be assassins, bold,
hardy, fierce, and adventurous, to undertake anything by reason of their
choler adust. [2573]"This humour, saith he, prepares them to endure death
itself, and all manner of torments with invincible courage, and 'tis a
wonder to see with what alacrity they will undergo such tortures," _ut
supra naturam res videatur_: he ascribes this generosity, fury, or rather
stupidity, to this adustion of choler and melancholy: but I take these
rather to be mad or desperate, than properly melancholy; for commonly this
humour so adust and hot, degenerates into madness.

If it come from melancholy itself adust, those men, saith Avicenna, [2574]
"are usually sad and solitary, and that continually, and in excess, more
than ordinarily suspicious more fearful, and have long, sore, and most
corrupt imaginations;" cold and black, bashful, and so solitary, that as
[2575]Arnoldus writes, "they will endure no company, they dream of graves
still, and dead men, and think themselves bewitched or dead:" if it be
extreme, they think they hear hideous noises, see and talk [2576]"with
black men, and converse familiarly with devils, and such strange chimeras
and visions," (Gordonius) or that they are possessed by them, that somebody
talks to them, or within them. _Tales melancholici plerumque daemoniaci_,
Montaltus _consil. 26. ex Avicenna_. Valescus de Taranta had such a woman
in cure, [2577]"that thought she had to do with the devil:" and Gentilis
Fulgosus _quaest. 55._ writes that he had a melancholy friend, that [2578]
"had a black man in the likeness of a soldier" still following him
wheresoever he was. Laurentius _cap. 7._ hath many stories of such as have
thought themselves bewitched by their enemies; and some that would eat no
meat as being dead. [2579]_Anno_ 1550 an advocate of Paris fell into such a
melancholy fit, that he believed verily he was dead, he could not be
persuaded otherwise, or to eat or drink, till a kinsman of his, a scholar
of Bourges, did eat before him dressed like a corse. The story, saith
Serres, was acted in a comedy before Charles the Ninth. Some think they are
beasts, wolves, hogs, and cry like dogs, foxes, bray like asses, and low
like kine, as King Praetus' daughters. [2580]Hildesheim _spicel. 2. de
mania_, hath an example of a Dutch baron so affected, and Trincavelius
_lib. 1. consil. 11._ another of a nobleman in his country, [2581]"that
thought he was certainly a beast, and would imitate most of their voices,"
with many such symptoms, which may properly be reduced to this kind.

If it proceed from the several combinations of these four humours, or
spirits, Herc. de Saxon. adds hot, cold, dry, moist, dark, confused,
settled, constringed, as it participates of matter, or is without matter,
the symptoms are likewise mixed. One thinks himself a giant, another a
dwarf. One is heavy as lead, another is as light as a feather. Marcellus
Donatus _l. 2. cap. 41._ makes mention out of Seneca, of one Seneccio, a
rich man, [2582]"that thought himself and everything else he had, great:
great wife, great horses, could not abide little things, but would have
great pots to drink in, great hose, and great shoes bigger than his feet."
Like her in [2583]Trallianus, that supposed she "could shake all the world
with her finger," and was afraid to clinch her hand together, lest she
should crush the world like an apple in pieces: or him in Galen, that
thought he was [2584]Atlas, and sustained heaven with his shoulders.
Another thinks himself so little, that he can creep into a mouse-hole: one
fears heaven will fall on his head: a second is a cock; and such a one,
[2585]Guianerius saith he saw at Padua, that would clap his hands together
and crow. [2586]Another thinks he is a nightingale, and therefore sings all
the night long; another he is all glass, a pitcher, and will therefore let
nobody come near him, and such a one [2587]Laurentius gives out upon his
credit, that he knew in France. Christophorus a Vega _cap. 3. lib. 14._
Skenkius and Marcellus Donatus _l. 2. cap. 1._ have many such examples, and
one amongst the rest of a baker in Ferrara that thought he was composed of
butter, and durst not sit in the sun, or come near the fire for fear of
being melted: of another that thought he was a case of leather, stuffed
with wind. Some laugh, weep; some are mad, some dejected, moped, in much
agony, some by fits, others continuate, &c. Some have a corrupt ear, they
think they hear music, or some hideous noise as their phantasy conceives,
corrupt eyes, some smelling, some one sense, some another. [2588]Lewis the
Eleventh had a conceit everything did stink about him, all the odoriferous
perfumes they could get, would not ease him, but still he smelled a filthy
stink. A melancholy French poet in [2589]Laurentius, being sick of a fever,
and troubled with waking, by his physicians was appointed to use _unguentum
populeum_ to anoint his temples; but he so distasted the smell of it, that
for many years after, all that came near him he imagined to scent of it,
and would let no man talk with him but aloof off, or wear any new clothes,
because he thought still they smelled of it; in all other things wise and
discreet, he would talk sensibly, save only in this. A gentleman in
Limousin, saith Anthony Verdeur, was persuaded he had but one leg,
affrighted by a wild boar, that by chance struck him on the leg; he could
not be satisfied his leg was sound (in all other things well) until two
Franciscans by chance coming that way, fully removed him from the conceit.
_Sed abunde fabularum audivimus_,--enough of story-telling.

SUBSECT. IV.--_Symptoms from Education, Custom, continuance of Time, our
Condition, mixed with other Diseases, by Fits, Inclination, &c._

Another great occasion of the variety of these symptoms proceeds from
custom, discipline, education, and several inclinations, [2590]"this humour
will imprint in melancholy men the objects most answerable to their
condition of life, and ordinary actions, and dispose men according to their
several studies and callings." If an ambitious man become melancholy, he
forthwith thinks he is a king, an emperor, a monarch, and walks alone,
pleasing himself with a vain hope of some future preferment, or present as
he supposeth, and withal acts a lord's part, takes upon him to be some
statesman or magnifico, makes conges, gives entertainment, looks big, &c.
Francisco Sansovino records of a melancholy man in Cremona, that would not
be induced to believe but that he was pope, gave pardons, made cardinals,
&c. [2591]Christophorus a Vega makes mention of another of his
acquaintance, that thought he was a king, driven from his kingdom, and was
very anxious to recover his estate. A covetous person is still conversant
about purchasing of lands and tenements, plotting in his mind how to
compass such and such manors, as if he were already lord of, and able to go
through with it; all he sees is his, _re_ or _spe_, he hath devoured it in
hope, or else in conceit esteems it his own: like him in [2592]Athenaeus,
that thought all the ships in the haven to be his own. A lascivious
_inamorato_ plots all the day long to please his mistress, acts and struts,
and carries himself as if she were in presence, still dreaming of her, as
Pamphilus of his Glycerium, or as some do in their morning sleep. [2593]
Marcellus Donatus knew such a gentlewoman in Mantua, called Elionora
Meliorina, that constantly believed she was married to a king, and [2594]
"would kneel down and talk with him, as if he had been there present with
his associates; and if she had found by chance a piece of glass in a
muck-hill or in the street, she would say that it was a jewel sent from her
lord and husband." If devout and religious, he is all for fasting, prayer,
ceremonies, alms, interpretations, visions, prophecies, revelations, [2595]
he is inspired by the Holy Ghost, full of the spirit: one while he is
saved, another while damned, or still troubled in mind for his sins, the
devil will surely have him, &c. more of these in the third partition of
love-melancholy. [2596]A scholar's mind is busied about his studies, he
applauds himself for that he hath done, or hopes to do, one while fearing
to be out in his next exercise, another while contemning all censures;
envies one, emulates another; or else with indefatigable pains and
meditation, consumes himself. So of the rest, all which vary according to
the more remiss and violent impression of the object, or as the humour
itself is intended or remitted. For some are so gently melancholy, that in
all their carriage, and to the outward apprehension of others it can hardly
be discerned, yet to them an intolerable burden, and not to be endured.
[2597]_Quaedam occulta quaedam manifesta_, some signs are manifest and
obvious to all at all times, some to few, or seldom, or hardly perceived;
let them keep their own council, none will take notice or suspect them.
"They do not express in outward show their depraved imaginations," as
[2598]Hercules de Saxonia observes, "but conceal them wholly to themselves,
and are very wise men, as I have often seen; some fear, some do not fear at
all, as such as think themselves kings or dead, some have more signs, some
fewer, some great, some less," some vex, fret, still fear, grieve, lament,
suspect, laugh, sing, weep, chafe, &c. by fits (as I have said) or more
during and permanent. Some dote in one thing, are most childish, and
ridiculous, and to be wondered at in that, and yet for all other matters
most discreet and wise. To some it is in disposition, to another in habit;
and as they write of heat and cold, we may say of this humour, one is
_melancholicus ad octo_, a second two degrees less, a third halfway. 'Tis
superparticular, _sesquialtera, sesquitertia_, and _superbipartiens
tertias, quintas Melancholiae_, &c. all those geometrical proportions are
too little to express it. [2599]"It comes to many by fits, and goes; to
others it is continuate:" many (saith [2600]Faventinus) "in spring and fall
only are molested," some once a year, as that Roman [2601] Galen speaks of:
[2602]one, at the conjunction of the moon alone, or some unfortunate
aspects, at such and such set hours and times, like the sea-tides, to some
women when they be with child, as [2603]Plater notes, never otherwise: to
others 'tis settled and fixed; to one led about and variable still by that
_ignis fatuus_ of phantasy, like an _arthritis_ or running gout, 'tis here
and there, and in every joint, always molesting some part or other; or if
the body be free, in a myriad of forms exercising the mind. A second once
peradventure in his life hath a most grievous fit, once in seven years,
once in five years, even to the extremity of madness, death, or dotage, and
that upon, some feral accident or perturbation, terrible object, and for a
time, never perhaps so before, never after. A third is moved upon all such
troublesome objects, cross fortune, disaster, and violent passions,
otherwise free, once troubled in three or four years. A fourth, if things
be to his mind, or he in action, well pleased, in good company, is most
jocund, and of a good complexion: if idle, or alone, a la mort, or carried
away wholly with pleasant dreams and phantasies, but if once crossed and

       "Pectore concipiet nil nisi triste suo;"

       "He will imagine naught save sadness in his heart;"

his countenance is altered on a sudden, his heart heavy, irksome thoughts
crucify his soul, and in an instant he is moped or weary of his life, he
will kill himself. A fifth complains in his youth, a sixth in his middle
age, the last in his old age.

Generally thus much we may conclude of melancholy; that it is [2604]most
pleasant at first, I say, _mentis gratissimus error_, [2605]a most
delightsome humour, to be alone, dwell alone, walk alone, meditate, lie in
bed whole days, dreaming awake as it were, and frame a thousand fantastical
imaginations unto themselves. They are never better pleased than when they
are so doing, they are in paradise for the time, and cannot well endure to
be interrupt; with him in the poet, [2606]_pol me occidistis amici, non
servastis ait_? you have undone him, he complains, if you trouble him: tell
him what inconvenience will follow, what will be the event, all is one,
_canis ad vomitum_, [2607]'tis so pleasant he cannot refrain. He may thus
continue peradventure many years by reason of a strong temperature, or some
mixture of business, which may divert his cogitations: but at the last
_laesa imaginatio_, his phantasy is crazed, and now habituated to such
toys, cannot but work still like a fate, the scene alters upon a sudden,
fear and sorrow supplant those pleasing thoughts, suspicion, discontent,
and perpetual anxiety succeed in their places; so by little and little, by
that shoeing-horn of idleness, and voluntary solitariness, melancholy this
feral fiend is drawn on, [2608]_et quantum vertice ad auras Aethereas,
tantum radice in Tartara tendit_, "extending up, by its branches, so far
towards Heaven, as, by its roots, it does down towards Tartarus;" it was
not so delicious at first, as now it is bitter and harsh; a cankered soul
macerated with cares and discontents, _taedium vitae_, impatience, agony,
inconstancy, irresolution, precipitate them unto unspeakable miseries. They
cannot endure company, light, or life itself, some unfit for action, and
the like. [2609]Their bodies are lean and dried up, withered, ugly, their
looks harsh, very dull, and their souls tormented, as they are more or less
entangled, as the humour hath been intended, or according to the
continuance of time they have been troubled.

To discern all which symptoms the better, [2610]Rhasis the Arabian makes
three degrees of them. The first is, _falsa cogitatio_, false conceits and
idle thoughts: to misconstrue and amplify, aggravating everything they
conceive or fear; the second is, _falso cogitata loqui_, to talk to
themselves, or to use inarticulate incondite voices, speeches, obsolete
gestures, and plainly to utter their minds and conceits of their hearts, by
their words and actions, as to laugh, weep, to be silent, not to sleep, eat
their meat, &c.: the third is to put in practice [2611]that which they
think or speak. Savanarola, _Rub. 11. tract. 8. cap. 1. de aegritudine_,
confirms as much, [2612]"when he begins to express that in words, which he
conceives in his heart, or talks idly, or goes from one thing to another,"
which [2613]Gordonius calls _nec caput habentia, nec caudam_, ("having
neither head nor tail,") he is in the middle way: [2614] "but when he
begins to act it likewise, and to put his fopperies in execution, he is
then in the extent of melancholy, or madness itself." This progress of
melancholy you shall easily observe in them that have been so affected,
they go smiling to themselves at first, at length they laugh out; at first
solitary, at last they can endure no company: or if they do, they are now
dizzards, past sense and shame, quite moped, they care not what they say or
do, all their actions, words, gestures, are furious or ridiculous. At first
his mind is troubled, he doth not attend what is said, if you tell him a
tale, he cries at last, what said you? but in the end he mutters to
himself, as old women do many times, or old men when they sit alone, upon a
sudden they laugh, whoop, halloo, or run away, and swear they see or hear
players, [2615]devils, hobgoblins, ghosts, strike, or strut, &c., grow
humorous in the end; like him in the poet, _saepe ducentos, saepe decem
servos_, ("at one time followed by two hundred servants, at another only by
ten") he will dress himself, and undress, careless at last, grows
insensible, stupid, or mad. [2616]He howls like a wolf, barks like a dog,
and raves like Ajax and Orestes, hears music and outcries, which no man
else hears. As [2617]he did whom Amatus Lusitanus mentioneth _cent. 3,
cura. 55_, or that woman in [2618]Springer, that spake many languages, and
said she was possessed: that farmer in [2619]Prosper Calenius, that
disputed and discoursed learnedly in philosophy and astronomy, with
Alexander Achilles his master, at Bologna, in Italy. But of these I have
already spoken.

Who can sufficiently speak of these symptoms, or prescribe rules to
comprehend them? as Echo to the painter in Ausonius, _vane quid affectas_,
&c., foolish fellow; what wilt? if you must needs paint me, paint a voice,
_et similem si vis pingere, pinge sonum_; if you will describe melancholy,
describe a fantastical conceit, a corrupt imagination, vain thoughts and
different, which who can do? The four and twenty letters make no more
variety of words in diverse languages, than melancholy conceits produce
diversity of symptoms in several persons. They are irregular, obscure,
various, so infinite, Proteus himself is not so diverse, you may as well
make the moon a new coat, as a true character of a melancholy man; as soon
find the motion of a bird in the air, as the heart of man, a melancholy
man. They are so confused, I say, diverse, intermixed with other diseases.
As the species be confounded (which [2620]I have showed) so are the
symptoms; sometimes with headache, cachexia, dropsy, stone; as you may
perceive by those several examples and illustrations, collected by [2621]
Hildesheim _spicel. 2._ Mercurialis _consil. 118. cap. 6 and 11._ with
headache, epilepsy, priapismus. Trincavelius _consil. 12. lib. 1. consil.
49._ with gout: _caninus appetitus_. Montanus _consil. 26, &c. 23, 234,
249_, with falling-sickness, headache, vertigo, lycanthropia, &c. J. Caesar
Claudinus _consult. 4. consult. 89 and 116._ with gout, agues,
haemorrhoids, stone, &c., who can distinguish these melancholy symptoms so
intermixed with others, or apply them to their several kinds, confine them
into method? 'Tis hard I confess, yet I have disposed of them as I could,
and will descend to particularise them according to their species. For
hitherto I have expatiated in more general lists or terms, speaking
promiscuously of such ordinary signs, which occur amongst writers. Not that
they are all to be found in one man, for that were to paint a monster or
chimera, not a man: but some in one, some in another, and that successively
or at several times.

Which I have been the more curious to express and report; not to upbraid
any miserable man, or by way of derision, (I rather pity them,) but the
better to discern, to apply remedies unto them; and to show that the best
and soundest of us all is in great danger; how much we ought to fear our
own fickle estates, remember our miseries and vanities, examine and
humiliate ourselves, seek to God, and call to Him for mercy, that needs not
look for any rods to scourge ourselves, since we carry them in our bowels,
and that our souls are in a miserable captivity, if the light of grace and
heavenly truth doth not shine continually upon us: and by our discretion to
moderate ourselves, to be more circumspect and wary in the midst of these


SUBSECT. I.--_Symptoms of Head-Melancholy_.

"If [2622]no symptoms appear about the stomach, nor the blood be
misaffected, and fear and sorrow continue, it is to be thought the brain
itself is troubled, by reason of a melancholy juice bred in it, or
otherwise conveyed into it, and that evil juice is from the distemperature
of the part, or left after some inflammation," thus far Piso. But this is
not always true, for blood and hypochondries both are often affected even
in head-melancholy. [2623]Hercules de Saxonia differs here from the common
current of writers, putting peculiar signs of head-melancholy, from the
sole distemperature of spirits in the brain, as they are hot, cold, dry,
moist, "all without matter from the motion alone, and tenebrosity of
spirits;" of melancholy which proceeds from humours by adustion, he treats
apart, with their several symptoms and cures. The common signs, if it be by
essence in the head, "are ruddiness of face, high sanguine complexion, most
part _rubore saturato_," [2624]one calls it, a bluish, and sometimes full
of pimples, with red eyes. Avicenna _l. 3, Fen. 2, Tract. 4, c. 18._
Duretus and others out of Galen, _de affect. l. 3, c. 6._ [2625]Hercules de
Saxonia to this of redness of face, adds "heaviness of the head, fixed and
hollow eyes." [2626]"If it proceed from dryness of the brain, then their
heads will be light, vertiginous, and they most apt to wake, and to
continue whole months together without sleep. Few excrements in their eyes
and nostrils, and often bald by reason of excess of dryness," Montaltus
adds, _c. 17._ If it proceed from moisture: dullness, drowsiness, headache
follows; and as Salust. Salvianus, _c. 1, l. 2_, out of his own experience
found, epileptical, with a multitude of humours in the head. They are very
bashful, if ruddy, apt to blush, and to be red upon all occasions,
_praesertim si metus accesserit_. But the chiefest symptom to discern this
species, as I have said, is this, that there be no notable signs in the
stomach, hypochondries, or elsewhere, _digna_, as [2627] Montaltus terms
them, or of greater note, because oftentimes the passions of the stomach
concur with them. Wind is common to all three species, and is not excluded,
only that of the hypochondries is [2628]more windy than the rest, saith
Hollerius. Aetius _tetrab. l. 2, sc. 2, c. 9 and 10_, maintains the same,
[2629]if there be more signs, and more evident in the head than elsewhere,
the brain is primarily affected, and prescribes head-melancholy to be cured
by meats amongst the rest, void of wind, and good juice, not excluding
wind, or corrupt blood, even in head-melancholy itself: but these species
are often confounded, and so are their symptoms, as I have already proved.
The symptoms of the mind are superfluous and continual cogitations;
[2630]"for when the head is heated, it scorcheth the blood, and from thence
proceed melancholy fumes, which trouble the mind," Avicenna. They are very
choleric, and soon hot, solitary, sad, often silent, watchful, discontent,
Montaltus, _cap. 24._ If anything trouble them, they cannot sleep, but fret
themselves still, till another object mitigate, or time wear it out. They
have grievous passions, and immoderate perturbations of the mind, fear,
sorrow, &c., yet not so continuate, but that they are sometimes merry, apt
to profuse laughter, which is more to be wondered at, and that by the
authority of [2631]Galen himself, by reason of mixture of blood, _praerubri
jocosis delectantur, et irrisores plerumque sunt_, if they be ruddy, they
are delighted in jests, and oftentimes scoffers themselves, conceited: and
as Rodericus a Vega comments on that place of Galen, merry, witty, of a
pleasant disposition, and yet grievously melancholy anon after: _omnia
discunt sine doctore_, saith Aretus, they learn without a teacher: and as
[2632]Laurentius supposeth, those feral passions and symptoms of such as
think themselves glass, pitchers, feathers, &c., speak strange languages,
_a colore cerebri_ (if it be in excess) from the brain's distempered heat.

SUBSECT. II.--_Symptoms of windy Hypochondriacal Melancholy_.

"In this hypochondriacal or flatuous melancholy, the symptoms are so
ambiguous," saith [2633]Crato in a counsel of his for a noblewoman, "that
the most exquisite physicians cannot determine of the part affected."
Matthew Flaccius, consulted about a noble matron, confessed as much, that
in this malady he with Hollerius, Fracastorius, Falopius, and others, being
to give their sentence of a party labouring of hypochondriacal melancholy,
could not find out by the symptoms which part was most especially affected;
some said the womb, some heart, some stomach, &c., and therefore Crato,
_consil. 24. lib. 1._ boldly avers, that in this diversity of symptoms,
which commonly accompany this disease, [2634]"no physician can truly say
what part is affected." Galen _lib. 3. de loc. affect._, reckons up these
ordinary symptoms, which all the Neoterics repeat of Diocles; only this
fault he finds with him, that he puts not fear and sorrow amongst the other
signs. Trincavelius excuseth Diocles, _lib. 3. consil. 35._ because that
oftentimes in a strong head and constitution, a generous spirit, and a
valiant, these symptoms appear not, by reason of his valour and courage.
[2635]Hercules de Saxonia (to whom I subscribe) is of the same mind (which
I have before touched) that fear and sorrow are not general symptoms; some
fear and are not sad; some be sad and fear not; some neither fear nor
grieve. The rest are these, beside fear and sorrow, [2636]"sharp belchings,
fulsome crudities, heat in the bowels, wind and rumbling in the guts,
vehement gripings, pain in the belly and stomach sometimes, after meat that
is hard of concoction, much watering of the stomach, and moist spittle,
cold sweat, _importunus sudor_, unseasonable sweat all over the body," as
Octavius Horatianus _lib. 2. cap. 5._ calls it; "cold joints, indigestion,
[2637]they cannot endure their own fulsome belchings, continual wind about
their hypochondries, heat and griping in their bowels, _praecordia sursum
convelluntur_, midriff and bowels are pulled up, the veins about their eyes
look red, and swell from vapours and wind." Their ears sing now and then,
vertigo and giddiness come by fits, turbulent dreams, dryness, leanness,
apt they are to sweat upon all occasions, of all colours and complexions.
Many of them are high-coloured especially after meals, which symptom
Cardinal Caecius was much troubled with, and of which he complained to
Prosper Calenus his physician, he could not eat, or drink a cup of wine,
but he was as red in the face as if he had been at a mayor's feast. That
symptom alone vexeth many. [2638]Some again are black, pale, ruddy,
sometimes their shoulders and shoulder blades ache, there is a leaping all
over their bodies, sudden trembling, a palpitation of the heart, and that
_cardiaca passio_, grief in the mouth of the stomach, which maketh the
patient think his heart itself acheth, and sometimes suffocation,
_difficultas anhelitus_, short breath, hard wind, strong pulse, swooning.
Montanus _consil. 55._ Trincavelius _lib. 3. consil. 36. et 37._ Fernelius
_cons. 43._ Frambesarius _consult. lib. 1. consil. 17._ Hildesheim,
Claudinus, &c., give instance of every particular. The peculiar symptoms
which properly belong to each part be these. If it proceed from the
stomach, saith [2639]Savanarola, 'tis full of pain wind. Guianerius adds,
vertigo, nausea, much spitting, &c. If from the mirach, a swelling and wind
in the hypochondries, a loathing, and appetite to vomit, pulling upward. If
from the heart, aching and trembling of it, much heaviness. If from the
liver, there is usually a pain in the right hypochondry. If from the
spleen, hardness and grief in the left hypochondry, a rumbling, much
appetite and small digestion, Avicenna. If from the mesaraic veins and
liver on the other side, little or no appetite, Herc. de Saxonia. If from
the hypochondries, a rumbling inflation, concoction is hindered, often
belching, &c. And from these crudities, windy vapours ascend up to the
brain which trouble the imagination, and cause fear, sorrow, dullness,
heaviness, many terrible conceits and chimeras, as Lemnius well observes,
_l. 1. c. 16._ "as [2640]a black and thick cloud covers the sun, and
intercepts his beams and light, so doth this melancholy vapour obnubilate
the mind, enforce it to many absurd thoughts and imaginations," and compel
good, wise, honest, discreet men (arising to the brain from the [2641]
lower parts, "as smoke out of a chimney") to dote, speak, and do that which
becomes them not, their persons, callings, wisdoms. One by reason of those
ascending vapours and gripings, rumbling beneath, will not be persuaded but
that he hath a serpent in his guts, a viper, another frogs. Trallianus
relates a story of a woman, that imagined she had swallowed an eel, or a
serpent, and Felix Platerus, _observat. lib. 1._ hath a most memorable
example of a countryman of his, that by chance, falling into a pit where
frogs and frogs' spawn was, and a little of that water swallowed, began to
suspect that he had likewise swallowed frogs' spawn, and with that conceit
and fear, his phantasy wrought so far, that he verily thought he had young
live frogs in his belly, _qui vivebant ex alimento suo_, that lived by his
nourishment, and was so certainly persuaded of it, that for many years
afterwards he could not be rectified in his conceit: He studied physic
seven years together to cure himself, travelled into Italy, France and
Germany to confer with the best physicians about it, and A.D. 1609, asked
his counsel amongst the rest; he told him it was wind, his conceit, &c.,
but _mordicus contradicere, et ore, et scriptis probare nitebatur_: no
saying would serve, it was no wind, but real frogs: "and do you not hear
them croak?" Platerus would have deceived him, by putting live frog's into
his excrements; but he, being a physician himself, would not be deceived,
_vir prudens alias, et doctus_ a wise and learned man otherwise, a doctor
of physic, and after seven years' dotage in this kind, _a phantasia
liberatus est_, he was cured. Laurentius and Goulart have many such
examples, if you be desirous to read them. One commodity above the rest
which are melancholy, these windy flatuous have, _lucidia intervalla_,
their symptoms and pains are not usually so continuate as the rest, but
come by fits, fear and sorrow, and the rest: yet in another they exceed all
others; and that is, [2642]they are luxurious, incontinent, and prone to
venery, by reason of wind, _et facile amant, et quamlibet fere amant_.
(Jason Pratensis) [2643]Rhasis is of opinion, that Venus doth many of them
much good; the other symptoms of the mind be common with the rest.

SUBSECT. III.--_Symptoms of Melancholy abounding in the whole body_.

Their bodies that are affected with this universal melancholy are most part
black, [2644]"the melancholy juice is redundant all over," hirsute they
are, and lean, they have broad veins, their blood is gross and thick [2645]
"Their spleen is weak," and a liver apt to engender the humour; they have
kept bad diet, or have had some evacuation stopped, as haemorrhoids, or
months in women, which [2646]Trallianus, in the cure, would have carefully
to be inquired, and withal to observe of what complexion the party is of,
black or red. For as Forrestus and Hollerius contend, if [2647]they be
black, it proceeds from abundance of natural melancholy; if it proceed from
cares, agony, discontents, diet, exercise, &c., they may be as well of any
other colour: red, yellow, pale, as black, and yet their whole blood
corrupt: _praerubri colore saepe sunt tales, saepe flavi_, (saith [2648]
Montaltus _cap. 22._) The best way to discern this species, is to let them
bleed, if the blood be corrupt, thick and black, and they withal free from
those hypochondriacal symptoms, and not so grievously troubled with them,
or those of the head, it argues they are melancholy, _a toto corpore_. The
fumes which arise from this corrupt blood, disturb the mind, and make them
fearful and sorrowful, heavy hearted, as the rest, dejected, discontented,
solitary, silent, weary of their lives, dull and heavy, or merry, &c., and
if far gone, that which Apuleius wished to his enemy, by way of
imprecation, is true in them; [2649]"Dead men's bones, hobgoblins, ghosts
are ever in their minds, and meet them still in every turn: all the
bugbears of the night, and terrors, fairy-babes of tombs, and graves are
before their eyes, and in their thoughts, as to women and children, if they
be in the dark alone." If they hear, or read, or see any tragical object,
it sticks by them, they are afraid of death, and yet weary of their lives,
in their discontented humours they quarrel with all the world, bitterly
inveigh, tax satirically, and because they cannot otherwise vent their
passions or redress what is amiss, as they mean, they will by violent death
at last be revenged on themselves.

SUBSECT. IV.--_Symptoms of Maids, Nuns, and Widows' Melancholy_.

Because Lodovicus Mercatus in his second book _de mulier. affect. cap. 4._
and Rodericus a Castro _de morb. mulier. cap. 3. lib. 2._ two famous
physicians in Spain, Daniel Sennertus of Wittenberg _lib. 1. part 2. cap.
13._ with others, have vouchsafed in their works not long since published,
to write two just treatises _de Melancholia virginum, Monialium et
Viduarum_, as a particular species of melancholy (which I have already
specified) distinct from the rest; [2650](for it much differs from that
which commonly befalls men and other women, as having one only cause proper
to women alone) I may not omit in this general survey of melancholy
symptoms, to set down the particular signs of such parties so misaffected.

The causes are assigned out of Hippocrates, Cleopatra, Moschion, and those
old _Gynaeciorum Scriptores_, of this feral malady, in more ancient maids,
widows, and barren women, _ob septum transversum violatum_, saith Mercatus,
by reason of the midriff or _Diaphragma_, heart and brain offended with
those vicious vapours which come from menstruous blood, _inflammationem
arteriae circa dorsum_, Rodericus adds, an inflammation of the back, which
with the rest is offended by [2651]that fuliginous exhalation of corrupt
seed, troubling the brain, heart and mind; the brain, I say, not in
essence, but by consent, _Universa enim hujus affectus causa ab utero
pendet, et a sanguinis menstrui malitia_, for in a word, the whole malady
proceeds from that inflammation, putridity, black smoky vapours, &c., from
thence comes care, sorrow, and anxiety, obfuscation of spirits, agony,
desperation, and the like, which are intended or remitted; _si amatorius
accesserit ardor_, or any other violent object or perturbation of mind.
This melancholy may happen to widows, with much care and sorrow, as
frequently it doth, by reason of a sudden alteration of their accustomed
course of life, &c. To such as lie in childbed _ob suppressam
purgationem_; but to nuns and more ancient maids, and some barren women for
the causes abovesaid, 'tis more familiar, _crebrius his quam reliquis
accidit, inquit Rodericus_, the rest are not altogether excluded.

Out of these causes Rodericus defines it with Areteus, to be _angorem
animi_, a vexation of the mind, a sudden sorrow from a small, light, or no
occasion, [2652]with a kind of still dotage and grief of some part or
other, head, heart, breasts, sides, back, belly, &c., with much
solitariness, weeping, distraction, &c., from which they are sometimes
suddenly delivered, because it comes and goes by fits, and is not so
permanent as other melancholy.

But to leave this brief description, the most ordinary symptoms be these,
_pulsatio juxta dorsum_, a beating about the back, which is almost
perpetual, the skin is many times rough, squalid, especially, as Areteus
observes, about the arms, knees, and knuckles. The midriff and
heart-strings do burn and beat very fearfully, and when this vapour or fume
is stirred, flieth upward, the heart itself beats, is sore grieved, and
faints, _fauces siccitate praecluduntur, ut difficulter possit ab uteri
strangulatione decerni_, like fits of the mother, _Alvus plerisque nil
reddit, aliis exiguum, acre, biliosum, lotium flavum_. They complain many
times, saith Mercatus, of a great pain in their heads, about their hearts,
and hypochondries, and so likewise in their breasts, which are often sore,
sometimes ready to swoon, their faces are inflamed, and red, they are dry,
thirsty, suddenly hot, much troubled with wind, cannot sleep, &c. And from
hence proceed _ferina deliramenta_, a brutish kind of dotage, troublesome
sleep, terrible dreams in the night, _subrusticus pudor et verecundia
ignava_, a foolish kind of bashfulness to some, perverse conceits and
opinions, [2653]dejection of mind, much discontent, preposterous judgment.
They are apt to loath, dislike, disdain, to be weary of every object, &c.,
each thing almost is tedious to them, they pine away, void of counsel, apt
to weep, and tremble, timorous, fearful, sad, and out of all hope of better
fortunes. They take delight in nothing for the time, but love to be alone
and solitary, though that do them more harm: and thus they are affected so
long as this vapour lasteth; but by-and-by, as pleasant and merry as ever
they were in their lives, they sing, discourse, and laugh in any good
company, upon all occasions, and so by fits it takes them now and then,
except the malady be inveterate, and then 'tis more frequent, vehement, and
continuate. Many of them cannot tell how to express themselves in words, or
how it holds them, what ails them, you cannot understand them, or well tell
what to make of their sayings; so far gone sometimes, so stupefied and
distracted, they think themselves bewitched, they are in despair, _aptae ad
fletum, desperationem, dolores mammis et hypocondriis_. Mercatus therefore
adds, now their breasts, now their hypochondries, belly and sides, then
their heart and head aches, now heat, then wind, now this, now that
offends, they are weary of all; [2654]and yet will not, cannot again tell
how, where or what offends them, though they be in great pain, agony, and
frequently complain, grieving, sighing, weeping, and discontented still,
_sine causa manifesta_, most part, yet I say they will complain, grudge,
lament, and not be persuaded, but that they are troubled with an evil
spirit, which is frequent in Germany, saith Rodericus, amongst the common
sort: and to such as are most grievously affected, (for he makes three
degrees of this disease in women,) they are in despair, surely forespoken
or bewitched, and in extremity of their dotage, (weary of their lives,)
some of them will attempt to make away themselves. Some think they see
visions, confer with spirits and devils, they shall surely be damned, are
afraid of some treachery, imminent danger, and the like, they will not
speak, make answer to any question, but are almost distracted, mad, or
stupid for the time, and by fits: and thus it holds them, as they are more
or less affected, and as the inner humour is intended or remitted, or by
outward objects and perturbations aggravated, solitariness, idleness, &c.

Many other maladies there are incident to young women, out of that one and
only cause above specified, many feral diseases. I will not so much as
mention their names, melancholy alone is the subject of my present
discourse, from which I will not swerve. The several cures of this
infirmity, concerning diet, which must be very sparing, phlebotomy, physic,
internal, external remedies, are at large in great variety in [2655]
Rodericus a Castro, Sennertus, and Mercatus, which whoso will, as occasion
serves, may make use of. But the best and surest remedy of all, is to see
them well placed, and married to good husbands in due time, _hinc illae,
lachrymae_, that is the primary cause, and this the ready cure, to give
them content to their desires. I write not this to patronise any wanton,
idle flirt, lascivious or light housewives, which are too forward many
times, unruly, and apt to cast away themselves on him that comes next,
without all care, counsel, circumspection, and judgment. If religion, good
discipline, honest education, wholesome exhortation, fair promises, fame
and loss of good name cannot inhibit and deter such, (which to chaste and
sober maids cannot choose but avail much,) labour and exercise, strict
diet, rigour and threats may more opportunely be used, and are able of
themselves to qualify and divert an ill-disposed temperament. For seldom
should you see an hired servant, a poor handmaid, though ancient, that is
kept hard to her work, and bodily labour, a coarse country wench troubled
in this kind, but noble virgins, nice gentlewomen, such as are solitary and
idle, live at ease, lead a life out of action and employment, that fare
well, in great houses and jovial companies, ill-disposed peradventure of
themselves, and not willing to make any resistance, discontented otherwise,
of weak judgment, able bodies, and subject to passions, (_grandiores
virgines_, saith Mercatus, _steriles et viduae plerumque melancholicae_,)
such for the most part are misaffected, and prone to this disease. I do not
so much pity them that may otherwise be eased, but those alone that out of
a strong temperament, innate constitution, are violently carried away with
this torrent of inward humours, and though very modest of themselves,
sober, religious, virtuous, and well given, (as many so distressed maids
are,) yet cannot make resistance, these grievances will appear, this malady
will take place, and now manifestly show itself, and may not otherwise be
helped. But where am I? Into what subject have I rushed? What have I to do
with nuns, maids, virgins, widows? I am a bachelor myself, and lead a
monastic life in a college, _nae ego sane ineptus qui haec dixerim_,) I
confess 'tis an indecorum, and as Pallas a virgin blushed, when Jupiter by
chance spake of love matters in her presence, and turned away her face; _me
reprimam_ though my subject necessarily require it, I will say no more.

And yet I must and will say something more, add a word or two _in gratiam
virginum et viduarum_, in favour of all such distressed parties, in
commiseration of their present estate. And as I cannot choose but condole
their mishap that labour of this infirmity, and are destitute of help in
this case, so must I needs inveigh against them that are in fault, more
than manifest causes, and as bitterly tax those tyrannising
pseudopoliticians, superstitious orders, rash vows, hard-hearted parents,
guardians, unnatural friends, allies, (call them how you will,) those
careless and stupid overseers, that out of worldly respects, covetousness,
supine negligence, their own private ends (_cum sibi sit interim bene_) can
so severely reject, stubbornly neglect, and impiously contemn, without all
remorse and pity, the tears, sighs, groans, and grievous miseries of such
poor souls committed to their charge. How odious and abominable are those
superstitious and rash vows of Popish monasteries, so to bind and enforce
men and women to vow virginity, to lead a single life, against the laws of
nature, opposite to religion, policy, and humanity, so to starve, to offer
violence, to suppress the vigour of youth, by rigorous statutes, severe
laws, vain persuasions, to debar them of that to which by their innate
temperature they are so furiously inclined, urgently carried, and sometimes
precipitated, even irresistibly led, to the prejudice of their soul's
health, and good estate of body and mind: and all for base and private
respects, to maintain their gross superstition, to enrich themselves and
their territories as they falsely suppose, by hindering some marriages,
that the world be not full of beggars, and their parishes pestered with
orphans; stupid politicians; _haeccine fieri flagilia_? ought these things
so to be carried? better marry than burn, saith the Apostle, but they are
otherwise persuaded. They will by all means quench their neighbour's house
if it be on fire, but that fire of lust which breaks out into such
lamentable flames, they will not take notice of, their own bowels
oftentimes, flesh and blood shall so rage and burn, and they will not see
it: _miserum est_, saith Austin, _seipsum non miserescere_, and they are
miserable in the meantime that cannot pity themselves, the common good of
all, and _per consequens_ their own estates. For let them but consider what
fearful maladies, feral diseases, gross inconveniences, come to both sexes
by this enforced temperance, it troubles me to think of, much more to
relate those frequent abortions and murdering of infants in their nunneries
(read [2656]Kemnisius and others), and notorious fornications, those
Spintrias, Tribadas, Ambubeias, &c., those rapes, incests, adulteries,
mastuprations, sodomies, buggeries of monks and friars. See Bale's
visitation of abbeys, [2657]Mercurialis, Rodericus a Castro, Peter
Forestus, and divers physicians; I know their ordinary apologies and
excuses for these things, _sed viderint Politici, Medici, Theologi_, I
shall more opportunely meet with them [2658]elsewhere.

[2659] "Illius viduae, aut patronum Virginis hujus,
        Ne me forte putes, verbum non amplius addam."

_Immediate cause of these precedent Symptoms_.

To give some satisfaction to melancholy men that are troubled with these
symptoms, a better means in my judgment cannot be taken, than to show them
the causes whence they proceed; not from devils as they suppose, or that
they are bewitched or forsaken of God, hear or see, &c. as many of them
think, but from natural and inward causes, that so knowing them, they may
better avoid the effects, or at least endure them with more patience. The
most grievous and common symptoms are fear and sorrow, and that without a
cause to the wisest and discreetest men, in this malady not to be avoided.
The reason why they are so, Aetius discusseth at large, _Tetrabib. 2. 2._
in his first problem out of Galen, _lib. 2. de causis sympt. 1._ For Galen
imputeth all to the cold that is black, and thinks that the spirits being
darkened, and the substance of the brain cloudy and dark, all the objects
thereof appear terrible, and the [2660]mind itself, by those dark, obscure,
gross fumes, ascending from black humours, is in continual darkness, fear,
and sorrow; divers terrible monstrous fictions in a thousand shapes and
apparitions occur, with violent passions, by which the brain and fantasy
are troubled and eclipsed. [2661]Fracastorius, _lib. 2. de intellect_,
"will have cold to be the cause of fear and sorrow; for such as are cold
are ill-disposed to mirth, dull, and heavy, by nature solitary, silent; and
not for any inward darkness (as physicians think) for many melancholy men
dare boldly be, continue, and walk in the dark, and delight in it:" _solum
frigidi timidi_: if they be hot, they are merry; and the more hot, the more
furious, and void of fear, as we see in madmen; but this reason holds not,
for then no melancholy, proceeding from choler adust, should fear.
[2662]Averroes scoffs at Galen for his reasons, and brings five arguments
to repel them: so doth Herc. de Saxonia, _Tract. de Melanch. cap. 3._
assigning other causes, which are copiously censured and confuted by
Aelianus Montaltus, _cap. 5 and 6._ Lod. Mercatus _de Inter. morb. cur.
lib. 1. cap. 17._ Altomarus, _cap. 7. de mel._ Guianerius, _tract. 15. c.
1._ Bright _cap. 37._ Laurentius, _cap. 5._ Valesius, _med. cont. lib. 5,
con. 1._ [2663]"Distemperature,