The Anatomy of Melancholy eBook

The Anatomy of Melancholy by Robert Burton (scholar)

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Table of Contents

Table of Contents
Section Page

Start of eBook1
Introduction to the Project Gutenberg Edition.1
FRONTISPIECE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION1
THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY1
WITH1
WITH THEIR SEVERAL2
HONORATISSIMO DOMINO2
HANC SUAM2
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE LAST LONDON EDITION.2
DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO HIS BOOK11
THE ARGUMENT OF THE FRONTISPIECE.12
DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO THE READER.15
LECTORI MALE FERIATO.103
TO THE READER AT LEISURE.104
THE SYNOPSIS OF THE FIRST PARTITION.104
THE FIRST PARTITION.109
SECT.  I. MEMB.  II.123
MEMB.  III.142
SECT.  II.  MEMB.  I.149
MEMB.  II.183
MEMB.  III.212
MEMB.  IV.276
MEMB.  V.311
SECT.  III.  MEMB.  I.319
MEMB.  II.342
THE SYNOPSIS OF THE SECOND PARTITION.368
372
MEMB.  IV.380
SECT.  II.  MEMB.  I.386
MEMB.  VI.454
SECT.  IV.  MEMB.  I.539
MEMB.  II.555
SECT.  V. MEMB.  I.563
MEMB.  III.580
THE SYNOPSIS OF THE THIRD PARTITION.584
587
MEMB.  II.599
SECT.  II.  MEMB.  I.617
MEMB.  II.633
MEMB.  V.736
SECT.  III.  MEMB.  I.790
MEMB.  IV.815
SECT.  IV.  MEMB.  I.833
MEMB.  II.891
INDEX.935
C.937
I.940
L.940
V.945
NOTES946

Page 1

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

FRONTISPIECE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION

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

THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY

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.

London

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

The anatomy of melancholy,

What it is,

WITH

All the kinds, causes, symptoms, prognostics, and several cures of it.

Page 2

In three partitions.

WITH THEIR SEVERAL

Sections, members, and subsections, philosophically, medically,
historically opened and cut up.

By democritus junior.

With A satirical preface, conducing to the following discourse.

A new edition,
corrected, and enriched by translations of the numerous classical extracts.

By democritus minor.

To which is prefixed an account of the author.

        Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci.

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

HONORATISSIMO DOMINO

Non MINVS virtute sua, quam generis splendore,

ILLVSTRISSIMO,

Georgio BEKKLEIO,

MILITI de balneo, Baroni de Berkley, MOUBREY, Segrave,

D. De Bruse,

Domino suo multis nominibus Observando,

HANC SUAM

Melancholiae ANATOMEN,

Jam sexto REVISAM, D.D.

Democritus junior.

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE LAST LONDON EDITION.

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

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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 YorickWood 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 modernized.

Account of the author.

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

Page 4

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 University.”

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”]

Page 5

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

Paucis notus, paucioribus ignotus,
Hic jacet Democritus junior
Cui vitam dedit et mortem
        Melancholia
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: 

Extracted from the registry of the prerogative court of Canterbury.

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

Page 6

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 xxs. to Dr. Metcalfe xxs. to Mr. Sherley xxs.  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 robBurton—­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.

Page 7

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: 

To the reader.

“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.

Page 8

“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.

Page 9

“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 copy of THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY.

DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR AD LIBRUM SUUM.

        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

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          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? 

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          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.

DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO HIS BOOK

PARAPHRASTIC METRICAL TRANSLATION.

        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,

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          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.

THE ARGUMENT OF THE FRONTISPIECE.

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

             I.

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.

             II. 

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.

             III. 

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.

             IV. 

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.

             V.

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.

             VI. 

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?

             VII. 

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.

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              X.

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.

THE AUTHOR’S ABSTRACT OF MELANCHOLY, [Greek:  Dialogos]

        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. 

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        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.

DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO THE READER.

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

Page 16

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

Page 17

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

Page 18

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,

Page 19

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 treatise.

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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 negatium.

[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

Page 21

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

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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.

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[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

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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.

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[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?

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[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

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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 labours,

[133]   ------“et linguas mancipiorum
Contemno.”------

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.”

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       “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
learning,”
[144]  “Verba nitent phaleris, at nullus verba medullas
Intus habent”------

Besides, it was the observation of that wise Seneca,

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[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, say,

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[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 physic,

[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,

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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.”

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“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,

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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

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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,

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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 tobacco.

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

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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

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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,

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------“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

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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

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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 unadvisedly.”

       “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 poet,

[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.

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[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

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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.

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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

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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?

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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.

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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 present.

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,

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[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

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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,

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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

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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,

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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

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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,

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[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,

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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
        Crispinus.”

[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

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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!

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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 flourish.

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 another.

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]

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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 himself.

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 Democritus.

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[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

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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

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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 it.

       “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,

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“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

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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 folly.

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?

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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 mad.

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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 found?

       “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

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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.

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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 maze.

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

       “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.

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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,

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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,

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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.”

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------“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,

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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

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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.

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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 fault.

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

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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,

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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,

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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

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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

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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 it.

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.

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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.

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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

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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 dislike.

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,

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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,

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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

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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,

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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

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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

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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

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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 itself.

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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 subject?

       “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 witness,

------“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

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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

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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.

------“vehuntur
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_. 

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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);

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[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.

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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

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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,

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       “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 physician.

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.

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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.”

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       “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 treatise.

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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
Obliterentur”------

       “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.

LECTORI MALE FERIATO.

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.

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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.

TO THE READER AT LEISURE.

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.”

THE SYNOPSIS OF THE FIRST PARTITION.

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In diseases, consider Sect. 1.  Memb. 1.

  Their Causes. Subs. 1.

      Impulsive;
          Sin, concupiscence, &c.

      Instrumental;
          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.
Dotage
Frenzy. 
Madness. 
Ecstasy. 
Lycanthropia. 
Chorus sancti Viti. 
Hydrophobia. 
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
Partition.

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.

Supernatural
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].

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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.
5.

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.

Inward
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.]

Inward
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.

Inward
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.

Substance
Bread; course and black, &c. 
Drink; thick, thin, sour, &c. 
Water unclean, milk, oil, vinegar, wine, spices &c. 
Flesh
Parts:  heads, feet, entrails, fat, bacon, blood, &c. 
Kinds: 
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.

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

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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.

      Irascible,
          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.
15.

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.

Humours
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,
&c.

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,
&c.

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Pleasant at first, hardly discerned; afterwards harsh and
intolerable, if inveterate.  Hence some make three
degrees,
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
        fantasies.

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.

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  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
        censured.

THE FIRST PARTITION.

THE FIRST SECTION, MEMBER, SUBSECTION.
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.

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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.

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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

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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 aright.

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,

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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 word,

[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 men: 

[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.

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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 posterity;

[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

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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 effect.

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 part.

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

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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: 

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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 itself.

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.

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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

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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

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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.

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SUBSECT.  V.—­Melancholy in Disposition, improperly so called, Equivocations.

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

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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

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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.

SECT.  I. MEMB.  II.

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

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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.

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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 sense.

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 rest.

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.

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.

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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, &c.

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:—­

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“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.

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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.

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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 omit.

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.

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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

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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 elsewhere.

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.

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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.

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       (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

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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,

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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 Melancholy.

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

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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 appetite,

[1019] “Nec nos obniti contra, nec tendere tantum
Sufficimus,”------

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,

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[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 appetite.

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.

MEMB.  III.

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;”

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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

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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.”

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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.

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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;

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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.

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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,

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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 causes.

SECT.  II.  MEMB.  I.

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.

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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

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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,

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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.”

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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

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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,

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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

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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

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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

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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.

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       “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. 28.

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.

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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.

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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

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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,

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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

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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

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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.

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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,

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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

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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;

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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

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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

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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
        Excipiunt.”------

       “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

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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’

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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, Chiromancy.

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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: 

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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. 

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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

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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 persons.

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

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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.

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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,

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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

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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

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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

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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.

MEMB.  II.

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,

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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 serve.

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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.

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       “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: 

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       “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.

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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 perturbations.

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.

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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.

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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,

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&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.”

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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

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(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

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[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,

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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

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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

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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 cave.

       “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.”

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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 issues.

[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

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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 Florentinus.

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.

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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

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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 subject.

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

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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,

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’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

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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.

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SUBSECT.  VI.—­Immoderate Exercise a cause, and how.  Solitariness, Idleness.

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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.

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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.

MEMB.  III.

SUBSECT.  I.—­Passions and Perturbations of the Mind, how they cause Melancholy.

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,

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[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

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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 diseases.

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

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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

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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,

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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. 

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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,

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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

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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,”

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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 Gloucester,

       “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 sorrow.”

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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

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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

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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.

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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

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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.

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[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;

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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 damnation.

SUBSECT.  IX.—­Anger, a Cause.

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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

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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,”

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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

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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,

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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,

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[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 time,

[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.”

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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

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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,

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[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.

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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,

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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

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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 commonwealth.

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

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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

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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 arms,

------“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.”

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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.

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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,

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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.” 

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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,

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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;

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[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.

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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

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[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_,

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------“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.

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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;

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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

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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

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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:” 

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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’ study”

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------“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 ass.

[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,

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“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

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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,

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[2008] “Ducetur Planta velut ictus ab Hercule Cacus,
        Poneturque foras, si quid tentaverit unquam
        Hiscere”------

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?

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[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.”

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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 preferment.

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,

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       “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

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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 emendicare_.

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

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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?

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[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

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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

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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 Commentaries,

[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

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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,”

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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 inheritance.

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

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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

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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

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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,

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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

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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

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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]

MEMB.  IV.

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

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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,

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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

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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.”

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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. 

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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

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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

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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.”

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[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

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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.”

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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.”

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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 Melancholy.

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

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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? 

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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 illustration.

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,

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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.

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[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
Ilibus?”------

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

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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.

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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,

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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 madness?

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

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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

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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.”

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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,

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[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,

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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.”

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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,

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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.”

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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

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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] himself: 

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[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

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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

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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,

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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
        Sustineo:”------

       “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