The Anatomy of Melancholy (part 2 of 6)

The Anatomy of Melancholy (part 2 of 6)

Air is a cause of great moment, in producing this, or any other disease, being that it is still taken into our bodies by respiration, and our more inner parts. [1505]If it be impure and foggy, it dejects the spirits, and causeth diseases by infection of the heart, as Paulus hath it, lib. 1. c. 49. Avicenna, lib. 1. Gal. de san. tuenda. Mercurialis, Montaltus, &c. [1506]Fernelius saith, A thick air thickeneth the blood and humours. [1507]Lemnius reckons up two main things most profitable, and most pernicious to our bodies; air and diet: and this peculiar disease, nothing sooner causeth [1508](Jobertus holds) than the air wherein we breathe and live. [1509]Such as is the air, such be our spirits; and as our spirits, such are our humours. It offends commonly if it be too [1510]hot and dry, thick, fuliginous, cloudy, blustering, or a tempestuous air. Bodine in his fifth Book, De repub. cap. 1, 5, of his Method of History, proves that hot countries are most troubled with melancholy, and that there are therefore in Spain, Africa, and Asia Minor, great numbers of mad men, insomuch that they are compelled in all cities of note, to build peculiar hospitals for them. Leo [1511]Afer, lib. 3. de Fessa urbe, Ortelius and Zuinger, confirm as much: they are ordinarily so choleric in their speeches, that scarce two words pass without railing or chiding in common talk, and often quarrelling in their streets. [1512]Gordonius will have every man take notice of it: Note this (saith he) that in hot countries it is far more familiar than in cold. Although this we have now said be not continually so, for as [1513]Acosta truly saith, under the Equator itself, is a most temperate habitation, wholesome air, a paradise of pleasure: the leaves ever green, cooling showers. But it holds in such as are intemperately hot, as [1514]Johannes a Meggen found in Cyprus, others in Malta, Aupulia, and the [1515]Holy Land, where at some seasons of the year is nothing but dust, their rivers dried up, the air scorching hot, and earth inflamed; insomuch that many pilgrims going barefoot for devotion sake, from Joppa to Jerusalem upon the hot sands, often run mad, or else quite overwhelmed with sand, profundis arenis, as in many parts of Africa, Arabia Deserta, Bactriana, now Charassan, when the west wind blows [1516]Involuti arenis transeuntes necantur. [1517]Hercules de Saxonia, a professor in Venice, gives this cause why so many Venetian women are melancholy, Quod diu sub sole degant, they tarry too long in the sun. Montanus, consil. 21, amongst other causes assigns this; Why that Jew his patient was mad, Quod tam multum exposuit se calori et frigori: he exposed himself so much to heat and cold, and for that reason in Venice, there is little stirring in those brick paved streets in summer about noon, they are most part then asleep: as they are likewise in the great Mogol's countries, and all over the East Indies. At Aden in Arabia, as [1518] Lodovicus Vertomannus relates in his travels, they keep their markets in the night, to avoid extremity of heat; and in Ormus, like cattle in a pasture, people of all sorts lie up to the chin in water all day long. At Braga in Portugal; Burgos in Castile; Messina in Sicily, all over Spain and Italy, their streets are most part narrow, to avoid the sunbeams. The Turks wear great turbans ad fugandos solis radios, to refract the sunbeams; and much inconvenience that hot air of Bantam in Java yields to our men, that sojourn there for traffic; where it is so hot, [1519]that they that are sick of the pox, lie commonly bleaching in the sun, to dry up their sores. Such a complaint I read of those isles of Cape Verde, fourteen degrees from the Equator, they do male audire: [1520]One calls them the unhealthiest clime of the world, for fluxes, fevers, frenzies, calentures, which commonly seize on seafaring men that touch at them, and all by reason of a hot distemperature of the air. The hardiest men are offended with this heat, and stiffest clowns cannot resist it, as Constantine affirms, Agricult. l. 2. c. 45. They that are naturally born in such air, may not [1521]endure it, as Niger records of some part of Mesopotamia, now called Diarbecha: Quibusdam in locis saevienti aestui adeo subjecta est, ut pleraque animalia fervore solis et coeli extinguantur, 'tis so hot there in some places, that men of the country and cattle are killed with it; and [1522]Adricomius of Arabia Felix, by reason of myrrh, frankincense, and hot spices there growing, the air is so obnoxious to their brains, that the very inhabitants at some times cannot abide it, much less weaklings and strangers. [1523]Amatus Lusitanus, cent. 1. curat. 45, reports of a young maid, that was one Vincent a currier's daughter, some thirteen years of age, that would wash her hair in the heat of the day (in July) and so let it dry in the sun, [1524]to make it yellow, but by that means tarrying too long in the heat, she inflamed her head, and made herself mad. Cold air in the other extreme is almost as bad as hot, and so doth Montaltus esteem of it, c. 11, if it be dry withal. In those northern countries, the people are therefore generally dull, heavy, and many witches, which (as I have before quoted) Saxo Grammaticus, Olaus, Baptista Porta ascribe to melancholy. But these cold climes are more subject to natural melancholy (not this artificial) which is cold and dry: for which cause [1525]Mercurius Britannicus belike puts melancholy men to inhabit just under the Pole. The worst of the three is a [1526]thick, cloudy, misty, foggy air, or such as come from fens, moorish grounds, lakes, muck-hills, draughts, sinks, where any carcasses, or carrion lies, or from whence any stinking fulsome smell comes: Galen, Avicenna, Mercurialis, new and old physicians, hold that such air is unwholesome, and engenders melancholy, plagues, and what not? [1527]Alexandretta, an haven-town in the Mediterranean Sea, Saint John de Ulloa, an haven in Nova-Hispania, are much condemned for a bad air, so are Durazzo in Albania, Lithuania, Ditmarsh, Pomptinae Paludes in Italy, the territories about Pisa, Ferrara, &c. Romney Marsh with us; the Hundreds in Essex, the fens in Lincolnshire. Cardan, de rerum varietate, l. 17, c. 96, finds fault with the sight of those rich, and most populous cities in the Low Countries, as Bruges, Ghent, Amsterdam, Leiden, Utrecht, &c. the air is bad; and so at Stockholm in Sweden; Regium in Italy, Salisbury with us, Hull and Lynn: they may be commodious for navigation, this new kind of fortification, and many other good necessary uses; but are they so wholesome? Old Rome hath descended from the hills to the valley, 'tis the site of most of our new cities, and held best to build in plains, to take the opportunity of rivers. Leander Albertus pleads hard for the air and site of Venice, though the black moorish lands appear at every low water: the sea, fire, and smoke (as he thinks) qualify the air; and [1528]some suppose, that a thick foggy air helps the memory, as in them of Pisa in Italy; and our Camden, out of Plato, commends the site of Cambridge, because it is so near the fens. But let the site of such places be as it may, how can they be excused that have a delicious seat, a pleasant air, and all that nature can afford, and yet through their own nastiness, and sluttishness, immund and sordid manner of life, suffer their air to putrefy, and themselves to be chocked up? Many cities in Turkey do male audire in this kind: Constantinople itself, where commonly carrion lies in the street. Some find the same fault in Spain, even in Madrid, the king's seat, a most excellent air, a pleasant site; but the inhabitants are slovens, and the streets uncleanly kept. A troublesome tempestuous air is as bad as impure, rough and foul weather, impetuous winds, cloudy dark days, as it is commonly with us, Coelum visu foedum, [1529]Polydore calls it a filthy sky, et in quo facile generantur nubes; as Tully's brother Quintus wrote to him in Rome, being then quaestor in Britain. In a thick and cloudy air (saith Lemnius) men are tetric, sad, and peevish: And if the western winds blow, and that there be a calm, or a fair sunshine day, there is a kind of alacrity in men's minds; it cheers up men and beasts: but if it be a turbulent, rough, cloudy, stormy weather, men are sad, lumpish, and much dejected, angry, waspish, dull, and melancholy. This was [1530]Virgil's experiment of old, Verum ubi tempestas, et coeli mobilis humor Mutavere vices, et Jupiter humidus Austro, Vertuntur species animorum, et pectore motus Concipiunt alios———

But when the face of Heaven changed is To tempests, rain, from season fair:

Our minds are altered, and in our breasts Forthwith some new conceits appear.

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

SUBSECT. VI.—Immoderate Exercise a cause, and how. Solitariness, 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 not fight. Mercurialis, consil. 86, for a melancholy young man urgeth, [1545]it as a chief cause; why was he melancholy? because idle. Nothing begets it sooner, increaseth and continueth it oftener than idleness.[1546]A disease familiar to all idle persons, an inseparable companion to such as live at ease, Pingui otio desidiose agentes, a life out of action, and have no calling or ordinary employment to busy themselves about, that have small occasions; and though they have, such is their laziness, dullness, they will not compose themselves to do aught; they cannot abide work, though it be necessary; easy as to dress themselves, write a letter, or the like; yet as he that is benumbed with cold sits still shaking, that might relieve himself with a little exercise or stirring, do they complain, but will not use the facile and ready means to do themselves good; and so are still tormented with melancholy. Especially if they have been formerly brought up to business, or to keep much company, and upon a sudden come to lead a sedentary life; it crucifies their souls, and seizeth on them in an instant; for whilst they are any ways employed, in action, discourse, about any business, sport or recreation, or in company to their liking, they are very well; but if alone or idle, tormented instantly again; one day's solitariness, one hour's sometimes, doth them more harm, than a week's physic, labour, and company can do good. Melancholy seizeth on them forthwith being alone, and is such a torture, that as wise Seneca well saith, Malo mihi male quam molliter esse, I had rather be sick than idle. This idleness is either of body or mind. That of body is nothing but a kind of benumbing laziness, intermitting exercise, which, if we may believe [1547]Fernelius, causeth crudities, obstructions, excremental humours, quencheth the natural heat, dulls the spirits, and makes them unapt to do any thing whatsoever. [1548]Neglectis urenda filix innascitur agris.

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

As fern grows in untilled grounds, and all manner of weeds, so do gross humours in an idle body, Ignavum corrumpunt otia corpus. A horse in a stable that never travels, a hawk in a mew that seldom flies, are both subject to diseases; which left unto themselves, are most free from any such encumbrances. An idle dog will be mangy, and how shall an idle person think to escape? Idleness of the mind is much worse than this of the body; wit without employment is a disease [1549]Aerugo animi, rubigo ingenii: the rust of the soul, [1550]a plague, a hell itself, Maximum animi nocumentum, Galen, calls it. [1551]As in a standing pool, worms and filthy creepers increase, (et vitium capiunt ni moveantur aquae, the water itself putrefies, and air likewise, if it be not continually stirred by the wind) so do evil and corrupt thoughts in an idle person, the soul is contaminated. In a commonwealth, where is no public enemy, there is likely civil wars, and they rage upon themselves: this body of ours, when it is idle, and knows not how to bestow itself, macerates and vexeth itself with cares, griefs, false fears, discontents, and suspicions; it tortures and preys upon his own bowels, and is never at rest. Thus much I dare boldly say; he or she that is idle, be they of what condition they will, never so rich, so well allied, fortunate, happy, let them have all things in abundance and felicity that heart can wish and desire, all contentment, so long as he or she or they are idle, they shall never be pleased, never well in body and mind, but weary still, sickly still, vexed still, loathing still, weeping, sighing, grieving, suspecting, offended with the world, with every object, wishing themselves gone or dead, or else earned away with some foolish phantasy or other. And this is the true cause that so many great men, ladies, and gentlewomen, labour of this disease in country and city; for idleness is an appendix to nobility; they count it a disgrace to work, and spend all their days in sports, recreations, and pastimes, and will therefore take no pains; be of no vocation: they feed liberally, fare well, want exercise, action, employment, (for to work, I say, they may not abide,) and Company to their desires, and thence their bodies become full of gross humours, wind, crudities; their minds disquieted, dull, heavy, &c. care, jealousy, fear of some diseases, sullen fits, weeping fits seize too [1552]familiarly on them. For what will not fear and phantasy work in an idle body? what distempers will they not cause? when the children of [1553] Israel murmured against Pharaoh in Egypt, he commanded his officers to double their task, and let them get straw themselves, and yet make their full number of bricks; for the sole cause why they mutiny, and are evil at ease, is, they are idle. When you shall hear and see so many discontented persons in all places where you come, so many several grievances, unnecessary complaints, fears, suspicions, [1554]the best means to redress it is to set them awork, so to busy their minds; for the truth is, they are idle. Well they may build castles in the air for a time, and sooth up themselves with fantastical and pleasant humours, but in the end they will prove as bitter as gall, they shall be still I say discontent, suspicious, [1555]fearful, jealous, sad, fretting and vexing of themselves; so long as they be idle, it is impossible to please them, Otio qui nescit uti, plus habet negotii quam qui negotium in negotio, as that [1556]Agellius could observe: He that knows not how to spend his time, hath more business, care, grief, anguish of mind, than he that is most busy in the midst of all his business. Otiosus animus nescit quid volet: An idle person (as he follows it) knows not when he is well, what he would have, or whither he would go, Quum illuc ventum est, illinc lubet, he is tired out with everything, displeased with all, weary of his life: Nec bene domi, nec militiae, neither at home nor abroad, errat, et praeter vitam vivitur, he wanders and lives besides himself. In a word, What the mischievous effects of laziness and idleness are, I do not find any where more accurately expressed, than in these verses of Philolaches in the [1557]Comical Poet, which for their elegancy I will in part insert. Novarum aedium esse arbitror similem ego hominem, Quando hic natus est: Ei rei argumenta dicam. Aedes quando sunt ad amussim expolitae, Quisque laudat fabrum, atque exemplum expetit, &c. At ubi illo migrat nequam homo indiligensque, &c. Tempestas venit, confringit tegulas, imbricesque, Putrifacit aer operam fabri, &c. Dicam ut homines similes esse aedium arbitremini, Fabri parentes fundamentum substruunt liberorum, Expoliunt, docent literas, nec parcunt sumptui, Ego autem sub fabrorum potestate frugi fui, Postquam autem migravi in ingenium meum, Perdidi operam fabrorum illico oppido, Venit ignavia, ea mihi tempestas fuit, Adventuque suo grandinem et imbrem attulit, Illa mihi virtutem deturbavit, &c.

A young man is like a fair new house, the carpenter leaves it well built, in good repair, of solid stuff; but a bad tenant lets it rain in, and for want of reparation, fall to decay, &c. Our parents, tutors, friends, spare no cost to bring us up in our youth, in all manner of virtuous education; but when we are left to ourselves, idleness as a tempest drives all virtuous motions out of our minds, et nihili sumus, on a sudden, by sloth and such bad ways, we come to nought. Cousin german to idleness, and a concomitant cause, which goes hand in hand with it, is [1558]nimia solitudo, too much solitariness, by the testimony of all physicians, cause and symptom both; but as it is here put for a cause, it is either coact, enforced, or else voluntary. Enforced solitariness is commonly seen in students, monks, friars, anchorites, that by their order and course of life must abandon all company, society of other men, and betake themselves to a private cell: Otio superstitioso seclusi, as Bale and Hospinian well term it, such as are the Carthusians of our time, that eat no flesh (by their order), keep perpetual silence, never go abroad. Such as live in prison, or some desert place, and cannot have company, as many of our country gentlemen do in solitary houses, they must either be alone without companions, or live beyond their means, and entertain all comers as so many hosts, or else converse with their servants and hinds, such as are unequal, inferior to them, and of a contrary disposition: or else as some do, to avoid solitariness, spend their time with lewd fellows in taverns, and in alehouses, and thence addict themselves to some unlawful disports, or dissolute courses. Divers again are cast upon this rock of solitariness for want of means, or out of a strong apprehension of some infirmity, disgrace, or through bashfulness, rudeness, simplicity, they cannot apply themselves to others' company. Nullum solum infelici gratius solitudine, ubi nullus sit qui miseriam exprobret; this enforced solitariness takes place, and produceth his effect soonest in such as have spent their time jovially, peradventure in all honest recreations, in good company, in some great family or populous city, and are upon a sudden confined to a desert country cottage far off, restrained of their liberty, and barred from their ordinary associates; solitariness is very irksome to such, most tedious, and a sudden cause of great inconvenience. Voluntary solitariness is that which is familiar with melancholy, and gently brings on like a Siren, a shoeing-horn, or some sphinx to this irrevocable gulf, [1559]a primary cause, Piso calls it; most pleasant it is at first, to such as are melancholy given, to lie in bed whole days, and keep their chambers, to walk alone in some solitary grove, betwixt wood and water, by a brook side, to meditate upon some delightsome and pleasant subject, which shall affect them most; amabilis insania, et mentis gratissimus error: a most incomparable delight it is so to melancholise, and build castles in the air, to go smiling to themselves, acting an infinite variety of parts, which they suppose and strongly imagine they represent, or that they see acted or done: Blandae quidem ab initio, saith Lemnius, to conceive and meditate of such pleasant things, sometimes, [1560]present, past, or to come, as Rhasis speaks. So delightsome these toys are at first, they could spend whole days and nights without sleep, even whole years alone in such contemplations, and fantastical meditations, which are like unto dreams, and they will hardly be drawn from them, or willingly interrupt, so pleasant their vain conceits are, that they hinder their ordinary tasks and necessary business, they cannot address themselves to them, or almost to any study or employment, these fantastical and bewitching thoughts so covertly, so feelingly, so urgently, so continually set upon, creep in, insinuate, possess, overcome, distract, and detain them, they cannot, I say, go about their more necessary business, stave off or extricate themselves, but are ever musing, melancholising, and carried along, as he (they say) that is led round about a heath with a Puck in the night, they run earnestly on in this labyrinth of anxious and solicitous melancholy meditations, and cannot well or willingly refrain, or easily leave off, winding and unwinding themselves, as so many clocks, and still pleasing their humours, until at last the scene is turned upon a sudden, by some bad object, and they being now habituated to such vain meditations and solitary places, can endure no company, can ruminate of nothing but harsh and distasteful subjects. Fear, sorrow, suspicion, subrusticus pudor, discontent, cares, and weariness of life surprise them in a moment, and they can think of nothing else, continually suspecting, no sooner are their eyes open, but this infernal plague of melancholy seizeth on them, and terrifies their souls, representing some dismal object to their minds, which now by no means, no labour, no persuasions they can avoid, haeret lateri lethalis arundo, (the arrow of death still remains in the side), they may not be rid of it, [1561]they cannot resist. I may not deny but that there is some profitable meditation, contemplation, and kind of solitariness to be embraced, which the fathers so highly commended, [1562] Hierom, Chrysostom, Cyprian, Austin, in whole tracts, which Petrarch, Erasmus, Stella, and others, so much magnify in their books; a paradise, a heaven on earth, if it be used aright, good for the body, and better for the soul: as many of those old monks used it, to divine contemplations, as Simulus, a courtier in Adrian's time, Diocletian the emperor, retired themselves, &c., in that sense, Vatia solus scit vivere, Vatia lives alone, which the Romans were wont to say, when they commended a country life. Or to the bettering of their knowledge, as Democritus, Cleanthes, and those excellent philosophers have ever done, to sequester themselves from the tumultuous world, or as in Pliny's villa Laurentana, Tully's Tusculan, Jovius' study, that they might better vacare studiis et Deo, serve God, and follow their studies. Methinks, therefore, our too zealous innovators were not so well advised in that general subversion of abbeys and religious houses, promiscuously to fling down all; they might have taken away those gross abuses crept in amongst them, rectified such inconveniences, and not so far to have raved and raged against those fair buildings, and everlasting monuments of our forefathers' devotion, consecrated to pious uses; some monasteries and collegiate cells might have been well spared, and their revenues otherwise employed, here and there one, in good towns or cities at least, for men and women of all sorts and conditions to live in, to sequester themselves from the cares and tumults of the world, that were not desirous, or fit to marry; or otherwise willing to be troubled with common affairs, and know not well where to bestow themselves, to live apart in, for more conveniency, good education, better company sake, to follow their studies (I say), to the perfection of arts and sciences, common good, and as some truly devoted monks of old had done, freely and truly to serve God. For these men are neither solitary, nor idle, as the poet made answer to the husbandman in Aesop, that objected idleness to him; he was never so idle as in his company; or that Scipio Africanus in [1563]Tully, Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus; nunquam minus otiosus, quam quum esset otiosus; never less solitary, than when he was alone, never more busy, than when he seemed to be most idle. It is reported by Plato in his dialogue de Amore, in that prodigious commendation of Socrates, how a deep meditation coming into Socrates' mind by chance, he stood still musing, eodem vestigio cogitabundus, from morning to noon, and when as then he had not yet finished his meditation, perstabat cogitans, he so continued till the evening, the soldiers (for he then followed the camp) observed him with admiration, and on set purpose watched all night, but he persevered immovable ad exhortim solis, till the sun rose in the morning, and then saluting the sun, went his ways. In what humour constant Socrates did thus, I know not, or how he might be affected, but this would be pernicious to another man; what intricate business might so really possess him, I cannot easily guess; but this is otiosum otium, it is far otherwise with these men, according to Seneca, Omnia nobis mala solitudo persuadet; this solitude undoeth us, pugnat cum vita sociali; 'tis a destructive solitariness. These men are devils alone, as the saying is, Homo solus aut Deus, aut Daemon: a man alone, is either a saint or a devil, mens ejus aut languescit, aut tumescit; and [1564]Vae soli in this sense, woe be to him that is so alone. These wretches do frequently degenerate from men, and of sociable creatures become beasts, monsters, inhumane, ugly to behold, Misanthropi; they do even loathe themselves, and hate the company of men, as so many Timons, Nebuchadnezzars, by too much indulging to these pleasing humours, and through their own default. So that which Mercurialis, consil. 11, sometimes expostulated with his melancholy patient, may be justly applied to every solitary and idle person in particular. [1565]Natura de te videtur conqueri posse, &c. Nature may justly complain of thee, that whereas she gave thee a good wholesome temperature, a sound body, and God hath given thee so divine and excellent a soul, so many good parts, and profitable gifts, thou hast not only contemned and rejected, but hast corrupted them, polluted them, overthrown their temperature, and perverted those gifts with riot, idleness, solitariness, and many other ways, thou art a traitor to God and nature, an enemy to thyself and to the world. Perditio tua ex te; thou hast lost thyself wilfully, cast away thyself, thou thyself art the efficient cause of thine own misery, by not resisting such vain cogitations, but giving way unto them.

SUBSECT. VII.—Sleeping and Waking, Causes.

What I have formerly said of exercise, I may now repeat of sleep. Nothing better than moderate sleep, nothing worse than it, if it be in extremes, or unseasonably used. It is a received opinion, that a melancholy man cannot sleep overmuch; Somnus supra modum prodest, as an only antidote, and nothing offends them more, or causeth this malady sooner, than waking, yet in some cases sleep may do more harm than good, in that phlegmatic, swinish, cold, and sluggish melancholy which Melancthon speaks of, that thinks of waters, sighing most part, &c. [1566]It dulls the spirits, if overmuch, and senses; fills the head full of gross humours; causeth distillations, rheums, great store of excrements in the brain, and all the other parts, as [1567]Fuchsius speaks of them, that sleep like so many dormice. Or if it be used in the daytime, upon a full stomach, the body ill-composed to rest, or after hard meats, it increaseth fearful dreams, incubus, night walking, crying out, and much unquietness; such sleep prepares the body, as [1568]one observes, to many perilous diseases. But, as I have said, waking overmuch, is both a symptom, and an ordinary cause. It causeth dryness of the brain, frenzy, dotage, and makes the body dry, lean, hard, and ugly to behold, as [1569]Lemnius hath it. The temperature of the brain is corrupted by it, the humours adust, the eyes made to sink into the head, choler increased, and the whole body inflamed: and, as may be added out of Galen, 3. de sanitate tuendo, Avicenna 3. 1. [1570]It overthrows the natural heat, it causeth crudities, hurts, concoction, and what not? Not without good cause therefore Crato, consil. 21. lib. 2; Hildesheim, spicel. 2. de delir. et Mania, Jacchinus, Arculanus on Rhasis, Guianerius and Mercurialis, reckon up this overmuch waking as a principal cause.

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, [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 ἀπαθής, without all manner of passions and perturbations whatsoever, as [1581]Seneca reports of Cato, the [1582] Greeks of Socrates, and [1583]Io. Aubanus of a nation in Africa, so free from passion, or rather so stupid, that if they be wounded with a sword, they will only look back. [1584]Lactantius, 2 instit., will exclude fear from a wise man: others except all, some the greatest passions. But let them dispute how they will, set down in Thesi, give precepts to the contrary; we find that of [1585]Lemnius true by common experience; No mortal man is free from these perturbations: or if he be so, sure he is either a god, or a block. They are born and bred with us, we have them from our parents by inheritance. A parentibus habemus malum hunc assem, saith [1586]Pelezius, Nascitur una nobiscum, aliturque, 'tis propagated from Adam, Cain was melancholy, [1587]as Austin hath it, and who is not? Good discipline, education, philosophy, divinity (I cannot deny), may mitigate and restrain these passions in some few men at some times, but most part they domineer, and are so violent, [1588]that as a torrent (torrens velut aggere rupto) bears down all before, and overflows his banks, sternit agros, sternit sata, (lays waste the fields, prostrates the crops,) they overwhelm reason, judgment, and pervert the temperature of the body; Fertur [1589] equis auriga, nec audit currus habenas. Now such a man (saith [1590]Austin) that is so led, in a wise man's eye, is no better than he that stands upon his head. It is doubted by some, Gravioresne morbi a perturbationibus, an ab humoribus, whether humours or perturbations cause the more grievous maladies. But we find that of our Saviour, Mat. xxvi. 41, most true, The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak, we cannot resist; and this of [1591]Philo Judeus, Perturbations often offend the body, and are most frequent causes of melancholy, turning it out of the hinges of his health. Vives compares them to [1592]Winds upon the sea, some only move as those great gales, but others turbulent quite overturn the ship. Those which are light, easy, and more seldom, to our thinking, do us little harm, and are therefore contemned of us: yet if they be reiterated, [1593]as the rain (saith Austin) doth a stone, so do these perturbations penetrate the mind: [1594]and (as one observes) produce a habit of melancholy at the last, which having gotten the mastery in our souls, may well be called 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 observe not; which otherwise would much affect us, had we been free. I may therefore conclude with [1599]Arnoldus, Maxima vis est phantasiae, et huic uni fere, non autem corporis intemperiei, omnis melancholiae causa est ascribenda: Great is the force of imagination, and much more ought the cause of melancholy to be ascribed to this alone, than to the distemperature of the body. Of which imagination, because it hath so great a stroke in producing this malady, and is so powerful of itself, it will not be improper to my discourse, to make a brief digression, and speak of the force of it, and how it causeth this alteration. Which manner of digression, howsoever some dislike, as frivolous and impertinent, yet I am of [1600]Beroaldus's opinion, Such digressions do mightily delight and refresh a weary reader, they are like sauce to a bad stomach, and I do therefore most willingly use them.

SUBSECT. II.—Of the Force of Imagination.

What imagination is, I have sufficiently declared in my digression of the anatomy of the soul. I will only now point at the wonderful effects and power of it; which, as it is eminent in all, so most especially it rageth in melancholy persons, in keeping the species of objects so long, mistaking, amplifying them by continual and [1601]strong meditation, until at length it produceth in some parties real effects, causeth this, and many other maladies. And although this phantasy of ours be a subordinate faculty to reason, and should be ruled by it, yet in many men, through inward or outward distemperatures, defect of organs, which are unapt, or otherwise contaminated, it is likewise unapt, or hindered, and hurt. This we see verified in sleepers, which by reason of humours and concourse of vapours troubling the phantasy, imagine many times absurd and prodigious things, and in such as are troubled with incubus, or witch-ridden (as we call it), if they lie on their backs, they suppose an old woman rides, and sits so hard upon them, that they are almost stifled for want of breath; when there is nothing offends, but a concourse of bad humours, which trouble the phantasy. This is likewise evident in such as walk in the night in their sleep, and do strange feats: [1602]these vapours move the phantasy, the phantasy the appetite, which moving the animal spirits causeth the body to walk up and down as if they were awake. Fracast. l. 3. de intellect, refers all ecstasies to this force of imagination, such as lie whole days together in a trance: as that priest whom [1603]Celsus speaks of, that could separate himself from his senses when he list, and lie like a dead man, void of life and sense. Cardan brags of himself, that he could do as much, and that when he list. Many times such men when they come to themselves, tell strange things of heaven and hell, what visions they have seen; as that St. Owen, in Matthew Paris, that went into St. Patrick's purgatory, and the monk of Evesham in the same author. Those common apparitions in Bede and Gregory, Saint Bridget's revelations, Wier. l. 3. de lamiis, c. 11. Caesar Vanninus, in his Dialogues, &c. reduceth (as I have formerly said), with all those tales of witches' progresses, dancing, riding, transformations, operations, &c. to the force of [1604] imagination, and the [1605]devil's illusions. The like effects almost are to be seen in such as are awake: how many chimeras, antics, golden mountains and castles in the air do they build unto themselves? I appeal to painters, mechanicians, mathematicians. Some ascribe all vices to a false and corrupt imagination, anger, revenge, lust, ambition, covetousness, which prefers falsehood before that which is right and good, deluding the soul with false shows and suppositions. [1606]Bernardus Penottus will have heresy and superstition to proceed from this fountain; as he falsely imagineth, so he believeth; and as he conceiveth of it, so it must be, and it shall be, contra gentes, he will have it so. But most especially in passions and affections, it shows strange and evident effects: what will not a fearful man conceive in the dark? What strange forms of bugbears, devils, witches, goblins? Lavater imputes the greatest cause of spectrums, and the like apparitions, to fear, which above all other passions begets the strongest imagination (saith [1607]Wierus), and so likewise love, sorrow, joy, &c. Some die suddenly, as she that saw her son come from the battle at Cannae, &c. Jacob the patriarch, by force of imagination, made speckled lambs, laying speckled rods before his sheep. Persina, that Ethiopian queen in Heliodorus, by seeing the picture of Persius and Andromeda, instead of a blackamoor, was brought to bed of a fair white child. In imitation of whom belike, a hard-favoured fellow in Greece, because he and his wife were both deformed, to get a good brood of children, Elegantissimas imagines in thalamo collocavit, &c. hung the fairest pictures he could buy for money in his chamber, That his wife by frequent sight of them, might conceive and bear such children. And if we may believe Bale, one of Pope Nicholas the Third's concubines by seeing of [1608]a bear was brought to bed of a monster. If a woman (saith [1609] Lemnius), at the time of her conception think of another man present or absent, the child will be like him. Great-bellied women, when they long, yield us prodigious examples in this kind, as moles, warts, scars, harelips, monsters, especially caused in their children by force of a depraved phantasy in them: Ipsam speciem quam animo effigiat, faetui inducit: She imprints that stamp upon her child which she [1610]conceives unto herself. And therefore Lodovicus Vives, lib. 2. de Christ, faem., gives a special caution to great-bellied women, [1611]that they do not admit such absurd conceits and cogitations, but by all means avoid those horrible objects, heard or seen, or filthy spectacles. Some will laugh, weep, sigh, groan, blush, tremble, sweat, at such things as are suggested unto them by their imagination. Avicenna speaks of one that could cast himself into a palsy when he list; and some can imitate the tunes of birds and beasts that they can hardly be discerned: Dagebertus' and Saint Francis' scars and wounds, like those of Christ's (if at the least any such were), [1612]Agrippa supposeth to have happened by force of imagination: that some are turned to wolves, from men to women, and women again to men (which is constantly believed) to the same imagination; or from men to asses, dogs, or any other shapes. [1613]Wierus ascribes all those famous transformations to imagination; that in hydrophobia they seem to see the picture of a dog, still in their water, [1614]that melancholy men and sick men conceive so many fantastical visions, apparitions to themselves, and have such absurd apparitions, as that they are kings, lords, cocks, bears, apes, owls; that they are heavy, light, transparent, great and little, senseless and dead (as shall be showed more at large, in our [1615] sections of symptoms), can be imputed to nought else, but to a corrupt, false, and violent imagination. It works not in sick and melancholy men only, but even most forcibly sometimes in such as are sound: it makes them suddenly sick, and [1616]alters their temperature in an instant. And sometimes a strong conceit or apprehension, as [1617]Valesius proves, will take away diseases: in both kinds it will produce real effects. Men, if they see but another man tremble, giddy or sick of some fearful disease, their apprehension and fear is so strong in this kind, that they will have the same disease. Or if by some soothsayer, wiseman, fortune-teller, or physician, they be told they shall have such a disease, they will so seriously apprehend it, that they will instantly labour of it. A thing familiar in China (saith Riccius the Jesuit), [1618]If it be told them they shall be sick on such a day, when that day comes they will surely be sick, and will be so terribly afflicted, that sometimes they die upon it. Dr. Cotta in his discovery of ignorant practitioners of physic, cap. 8, hath two strange stories to this purpose, what fancy is able to do. The one of a parson's wife in Northamptonshire, An. 1607, that coming to a physician, and told by him that she was troubled with the sciatica, as he conjectured (a disease she was free from), the same night after her return, upon his words, fell into a grievous fit of a sciatica: and such another example he hath of another good wife, that was so troubled with the cramp, after the same manner she came by it, because her physician did but name it. Sometimes death itself is caused by force of phantasy. I have heard of one that coming by chance in company of him that was thought to be sick of the plague (which was not so) fell down suddenly dead. Another was sick of the plague with conceit. One seeing his fellow let blood falls down in a swoon. Another (saith [1619]Cardan out of Aristotle), fell down dead (which is familiar to women at any ghastly sight), seeing but a man hanged. A Jew in France (saith [1620]Lodovicus Vives), came by chance over a dangerous passage or plank, that lay over a brook in the dark, without harm, the next day perceiving what danger he was in, fell down dead. Many will not believe such stories to be true, but laugh commonly, and deride when they hear of them; but let these men consider with themselves, as [1621]Peter Byarus illustrates it, If they were set to walk upon a plank on high, they would be giddy, upon which they dare securely walk upon the ground. Many (saith Agrippa), [1622]strong-hearted men otherwise, tremble at such sights, dazzle, and are sick, if they look but down from a high place, and what moves them but conceit? As some are so molested by phantasy; so some again, by fancy alone, and a good conceit, are as easily recovered. We see commonly the toothache, gout, falling-sickness, biting of a mad dog, and many such maladies cured by spells, words, characters, and charms, and many green wounds by that now so much used Unguentum Armarium, magnetically cured, which Crollius and Goclenius in a book of late hath defended, Libavius in a just tract as stiffly contradicts, and most men controvert. All the world knows there is no virtue in such charms or cures, but a strong conceit and opinion alone, as [1623]Pomponatius holds, which forceth a motion of the humours, spirits, and blood, which takes away the cause of the malady from the parts affected. The like we may say of our magical effects, superstitious cures, and such as are done by mountebanks and wizards. As by wicked incredulity many men are hurt (so saith [1624]Wierus of charms, spells, &c.), we find in our experience, by the same means many are relieved. An empiric oftentimes, and a silly chirurgeon, doth more strange cures than a rational physician. Nymannus gives a reason, because the patient puts his confidence in him, [1625] which Avicenna prefers before art, precepts, and all remedies whatsoever. 'Tis opinion alone (saith [1626]Cardan), that makes or mars physicians, and he doth the best cures, according to Hippocrates, in whom most trust. So diversely doth this phantasy of ours affect, turn, and wind, so imperiously command our bodies, which as another [1627]Proteus, or a chameleon, can take all shapes; and is of such force (as Ficinus adds), that it can work upon others, as well as ourselves. How can otherwise blear eyes in one man cause the like affection in another? Why doth one man's yawning [1628]make another yawn? One man's pissing provoke a second many times to do the like? Why doth scraping of trenchers offend a third, or hacking of files? Why doth a carcass bleed when the murderer is brought before it, some weeks after the murder hath been done? Why do witches and old women fascinate and bewitch children: but as Wierus, Paracelsus, Cardan, Mizaldus, Valleriola, Caesar Vanninus, Campanella, and many philosophers think, the forcible imagination of the one party moves and alters the spirits of the other. Nay more, they can cause and cure not only diseases, maladies, and several infirmities, by this means, as Avicenna, de anim. l. 4. sect. 4, supposeth in parties remote, but move bodies from their places, cause thunder, lightning, tempests, which opinion Alkindus, Paracelsus, and some others, approve of. So that I may certainly conclude this strong conceit or imagination is astrum hominis, and the rudder of this our ship, which reason should steer, but, overborne by phantasy, cannot manage, and so suffers itself, and this whole vessel of ours to be overruled, and often overturned. Read more of this in Wierus, l. 3. de Lamiis, c. 8, 9, 10. Franciscus Valesius, med. controv. l. 5. cont. 6. Marcellus Donatus, l. 2. c. 1. de hist. med. mirabil. Levinus Lemnius, de occult. nat. mir. l. 1. c. 12. Cardan, l. 18. de rerum var. Corn. Agrippa, de occult. plilos. cap. 64, 65. Camerarius, 1 cent. cap. 54. horarum subcis. Nymannus, morat. de Imag. Laurentius, and him that is instar omnium, Fienus, a famous physician of Antwerp, that wrote three books de viribus imaginationis. I have thus far digressed, because this imagination is the medium deferens of passions, by whose means they work and produce many times prodigious effects: and as the phantasy is more or less intended or remitted, and their humours disposed, so do perturbations move, more or less, and take deeper impression.

SUBSECT. III.—Division of Perturbations.

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

SUBSECT. IV.—Sorrow a Cause of Melancholy.

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

SUBSECT. V.—Fear, a Cause.

Cousin german to sorrow, is fear, or rather a sister, fidus Achates, and continual companion, an assistant and a principal agent in procuring of this mischief; a cause and symptom as the other. In a word, as [1657] Virgil of the Harpies, I may justly say of them both, Tristius haud illis monstrum, nec saevior ulla Pestis et ira Deum stygiis sese extulit undis.

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

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

SUBSECT. VI.—Shame and Disgrace, Causes.

Shame and disgrace cause most violent passions and bitter pangs. Ob pudorem et dedecus publicum, ob errorum commissum saepe moventur generosi animi (Felix Plater, lib. 3. de alienat mentis.) Generous minds are often moved with shame, to despair for some public disgrace. And he, saith Philo, lib. 2. de provid. dei, [1673]that subjects himself to fear, grief, ambition, shame, is not happy, but altogether miserable, tortured with continual labour, care, and misery. It is as forcible a batterer as any of the rest: [1674]Many men neglect the tumults of the world, and care not for glory, and yet they are afraid of infamy, repulse, disgrace, (Tul. offic. l. 1,) they can severely contemn pleasure, bear grief indifferently, but they are quite [1675]battered and broken, with reproach and obloquy: (siquidem vita et fama pari passu ambulant) and are so dejected many times for some public injury, disgrace, as a box on the ear by their inferior, to be overcome of their adversary, foiled in the field, to be out in a speech, some foul fact committed or disclosed, &c. that they dare not come abroad all their lives after, but melancholise in corners, and keep in holes. The most generous spirits are most subject to it; Spiritus altos frangit et generosos: Hieronymus. Aristotle, because he could not understand the motion of Euripus, for grief and shame drowned himself: Caelius Rodigimus antiquar. lec. lib. 29. cap. 8. Homerus pudore consumptus, was swallowed up with this passion of shame [1676] because he could not unfold the fisherman's riddle. Sophocles killed himself, [1677]for that a tragedy of his was hissed off the stage: Valer. max. lib. 9. cap. 12. Lucretia stabbed herself, and so did [1678]Cleopatra, when she saw that she was reserved for a triumph, to avoid the infamy. Antonius the Roman, [1679]after he was overcome of his enemy, for three days' space sat solitary in the fore-part of the ship, abstaining from all company, even of Cleopatra herself, and afterwards for very shame butchered himself, Plutarch, vita ejus. Apollonius Rhodius [1680]wilfully banished himself, forsaking his country, and all his dear friends, because he was out in reciting his poems, Plinius, lib. 7. cap. 23. Ajax ran mad, because his arms were adjudged to Ulysses. In China 'tis an ordinary thing for such as are excluded in those famous trials of theirs, or should take degrees, for shame and grief to lose their wits, [1681]Mat Riccius expedit. ad Sinas, l. 3. c. 9. Hostratus the friar took that book which Reuclin had writ against him, under the name of Epist. obscurorum virorum, so to heart, that for shame and grief he made away with himself, [1682]Jovius in elogiis. A grave and learned minister, and an ordinary preacher at Alcmar in Holland, was (one day as he walked in the fields for his recreation) suddenly taken with a lax or looseness, and thereupon compelled to retire to the next ditch; but being [1683]surprised at unawares, by some gentlewomen of his parish wandering that way, was so abashed, that he did never after show his head in public, or come into the pulpit, but pined away with melancholy: (Pet. Forestus med. observat. lib. 10. observat. 12.) So shame amongst other passions can play his prize. I know there be many base, impudent, brazenfaced rogues, that will [1684] Nulla pallescere culpa, be moved with nothing, take no infamy or disgrace to heart, laugh at all; let them be proved perjured, stigmatised, convict rogues, thieves, traitors, lose their ears, be whipped, branded, carted, pointed at, hissed, reviled, and derided with [1685]Ballio the Bawd in Plautus, they rejoice at it, Cantores probos; babe and Bombax, what care they? We have too many such in our times, ———Exclamat Melicerta perisse ———Frontem de rebus.[1686]

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

SUBSECT. VII.—Envy, Malice, Hatred, Causes.

Envy and malice are two links of this chain, and both, as Guianerius, Tract. 15. cap. 2, proves out of Galen, 3 Aphorism, com. 22, [1688] cause this malady by themselves, especially if their bodies be otherwise disposed to melancholy. 'Tis Valescus de Taranta, and Felix Platerus' observation, [1689]Envy so gnaws many men's hearts, that they become altogether melancholy. And therefore belike Solomon, Prov. xiv. 13, calls it, the rotting of the bones, Cyprian, vulnus occultum; [1690]———Siculi non invenere tyranni Majus tormentum———

The Sicilian tyrants never invented the like torment. It crucifies their souls, withers their bodies, makes them hollow-eyed, [1691]pale, lean, and ghastly to behold, Cyprian, ser. 2. de zelo et livore. [1692]As a moth gnaws a garment, so, saith Chrysostom, doth envy consume a man; to be a living anatomy: a skeleton, to be a lean and [1693]pale carcass, quickened with a [1694]fiend, Hall in Charact. for so often as an envious wretch sees another man prosper, to be enriched, to thrive, and be fortunate in the world, to get honours, offices, or the like, he repines and grieves. [1695]———intabescitque videndo Successus hominum—suppliciumque suum est.

He tortures himself if his equal, friend, neighbour, be preferred, commended, do well; if he understand of it, it galls him afresh; and no greater pain can come to him than to hear of another man's well-doing; 'tis a dagger at his heart every such object. He looks at him as they that fell down in Lucian's rock of honour, with an envious eye, and will damage himself, to do another a mischief: Atque cadet subito, dum super hoste cadat. As he did in Aesop, lose one eye willingly, that his fellow might lose both, or that rich man in [1696]Quintilian that poisoned the flowers in his garden, because his neighbour's bees should get no more honey from them. His whole life is sorrow, and every word he speaks a satire: nothing fats him but other men's ruins. For to speak in a word, envy is nought else but Tristitia de bonis alienis, sorrow for other men's good, be it present, past, or to come: et gaudium de adversis, and [1697]joy at their harms, opposite to mercy, [1698]which grieves at other men's mischances, and misaffects the body in another kind; so Damascen defines it, lib. 2. de orthod. fid. Thomas, 2. 2. quaest. 36. art. 1. Aristotle, l. 2. Rhet. c. 4. et 10. Plato Philebo. Tully, 3. Tusc. Greg. Nic. l. de virt. animae, c. 12. Basil, de Invidia. Pindarus Od. 1. ser. 5, and we find it true. 'Tis a common disease, and almost natural to us, as [1699]Tacitus holds, to envy another man's prosperity. And 'tis in most men an incurable disease. [1700]I have read, saith Marcus Aurelius, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee authors; I have consulted with many wise men for a remedy for envy, I could find none, but to renounce all happiness, and to be a wretch, and miserable for ever. 'Tis the beginning of hell in this life, and a passion not to be excused. [1701]Every other sin hath some pleasure annexed to it, or will admit of an excuse; envy alone wants both. Other sins last but for awhile; the gut may be satisfied, anger remits, hatred hath an end, envy never ceaseth. Cardan, lib. 2. de sap. Divine and humane examples are very familiar; you may run and read them, as that of Saul and David, Cain and Abel, angebat illum non proprium peccatum, sed fratris prosperitas, saith Theodoret, it was his brother's good fortune galled him. Rachel envied her sister, being barren, Gen. xxx. Joseph's brethren him, Gen. xxxvii. David had a touch of this vice, as he confesseth, [1702]Psal. 37. [1703]Jeremy and [1704]Habakkuk, they repined at others' good, but in the end they corrected themselves, Psal. 75, fret not thyself, &c. Domitian spited Agricola for his worth, [1705]that a private man should be so much glorified. [1706]Cecinna was envied of his fellow-citizens, because he was more richly adorned. But of all others, [1707]women are most weak, ob pulchritudinem invidae sunt foeminae (Musaeus) aut amat, aut odit, nihil est tertium (Granatensis.) They love or hate, no medium amongst them. Implacabiles plerumque laesae mulieres, Agrippina like, [1708]A woman, if she see her neighbour more neat or elegant, richer in tires, jewels, or apparel, is enraged, and like a lioness sets upon her husband, rails at her, scoffs at her, and cannot abide her; so the Roman ladies in Tacitus did at Solonina, Cecinna's wife, [1709]because she had a better horse, and better furniture, as if she had hurt them with it; they were much offended. In like sort our gentlewomen do at their usual meetings, one repines or scoffs at another's bravery and happiness. Myrsine, an Attic wench, was murdered of her fellows, [1710] because she did excel the rest in beauty, Constantine, Agricult. l. 11. c. 7. Every village will yield such examples.

SUBSECT. VIII.—Emulation, Hatred, Faction, Desire of Revenge, Causes.

Out of this root of envy [1711]spring those feral branches of faction, hatred, livor, emulation, which cause the like grievances, and are, serrae animae, the saws of the soul, [1712]consternationis pleni affectus, affections full of desperate amazement; or as Cyprian describes emulation, it is [1713]a moth of the soul, a consumption, to make another man's happiness his misery, to torture, crucify, and execute himself, to eat his own heart. Meat and drink can do such men no good, they do always grieve, sigh, and groan, day and night without intermission, their breast is torn asunder: and a little after, [1714]Whomsoever he is whom thou dost emulate and envy, he may avoid thee, but thou canst neither avoid him nor thyself; wheresoever thou art he is with thee, thine enemy is ever in thy breast, thy destruction is within thee, thou art a captive, bound hand and foot, as long as thou art malicious and envious, and canst not be comforted. It was the devil's overthrow; and whensoever thou art thoroughly affected with this passion, it will be thine. Yet no perturbation so frequent, no passion so common. [1715]Καὶ κεραμεὺς κεραμεῖ κοτέει καὶ τεκτονι τέκτων, Καὶ πτωχὸς πτωχῷ φθονέει καὶ ἀοίδος ἀοιδῶ.

A potter emulates a potter: One smith envies another:

A beggar emulates a beggar; A singing man his brother.

Every society, corporation, and private family is full of it, it takes hold almost of all sorts of men, from the prince to the ploughman, even amongst gossips it is to be seen, scarce three in a company but there is siding, faction, emulation, between two of them, some simultas, jar, private grudge, heart-burning in the midst of them. Scarce two gentlemen dwell together in the country, (if they be not near kin or linked in marriage) but there is emulation betwixt them and their servants, some quarrel or some grudge betwixt their wives or children, friends and followers, some contention about wealth, gentry, precedency, &c., by means of which, like the frog in [1716]Aesop, that would swell till she was as big as an ox, burst herself at last; they will stretch beyond their fortunes, callings, and strive so long that they consume their substance in lawsuits, or otherwise in hospitality, feasting, fine clothes, to get a few bombast titles, for ambitiosa paupertate laboramus omnes, to outbrave one another, they will tire their bodies, macerate their souls, and through contentions or mutual invitations beggar themselves. Scarce two great scholars in an age, but with bitter invectives they fall foul one on the other, and their adherents; Scotists, Thomists, Reals, Nominals, Plato and Aristotle, Galenists and Paracelsians, &c., it holds in all professions. Honest [1717]emulation in studies, in all callings is not to be disliked, 'tis ingeniorum cos, as one calls it, the whetstone of wit, the nurse of wit and valour, and those noble Romans out of this spirit did brave exploits. There is a modest ambition, as Themistocles was roused up with the glory of Miltiades; Achilles' trophies moved Alexander, [1718]Ambire semper stulta confidentia est, Ambire nunquam deses arrogantia est.

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

SUBSECT. IX.—Anger, a Cause.

Anger, a perturbation, which carries the spirits outwards, preparing the body to melancholy, and madness itself: Ira furor brevis est, anger is temporary madness; and as [1728]Picolomineus accounts it, one of the three most violent passions. [1729]Areteus sets it down for an especial cause (so doth Seneca, ep. 18. l. 1,) of this malady. [1730]Magninus gives the reason, Ex frequenti ira supra modum calefiunt; it overheats their bodies, and if it be too frequent, it breaks out into manifest madness, saith St. Ambrose. 'Tis a known saying, Furor fit Iaesa saepius palienlia, the most patient spirit that is, if he be often provoked, will be incensed to madness; it will make a devil of a saint: and therefore Basil (belike) in his Homily de Ira, calls it tenebras rationis, morbum animae, et daemonem pessimum; the darkening of our understanding, and a bad angel. [1731]Lucian, in Abdicato, tom. 1, will have this passion to work this effect, especially in old men and women. Anger and calumny (saith he) trouble them at first, and after a while break out into madness: many things cause fury in women, especially if they love or hate overmuch, or envy, be much grieved or angry; these things by little and little lead them on to this malady. From a disposition they proceed to an habit, for there is no difference between a mad man, and an angry man, in the time of his fit; anger, as Lactantius describes it, L. de Ira Dei, ad Donatum, c. 5, is [1732]saeva animi tempestas, &c., a cruel tempest of the mind; making his eye sparkle fire, and stare, teeth gnash in his head, his tongue stutter, his face pale, or red, and what more filthy imitation can be of a mad man? [1733]Ora tument ira, fervescunt sanguine venae, Lumina Gorgonio saevius angue micant.

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

SUBSECT. X.—Discontents, Cares, Miseries, &c. Causes.

Discontents, cares, crosses, miseries, or whatsoever it is, that shall cause any molestation of spirits, grief, anguish, and perplexity, may well be reduced to this head, (preposterously placed here in some men's judgments they may seem,) yet in that Aristotle in his [1741]Rhetoric defines these cares, as he doth envy, emulation, &c. still by grief, I think I may well rank them in this irascible row; being that they are as the rest, both causes and symptoms of this disease, producing the like inconveniences, and are most part accompanied with anguish and pain. The common etymology will evince it, Cura quasi cor uro, Dementes curae, insomnes curae, damnosae curae, tristes, mordaces, carnifices, &c. biting, eating, gnawing, cruel, bitter, sick, sad, unquiet, pale, tetric, miserable, intolerable cares, as the poets [1742]call them, worldly cares, and are as many in number as the sea sands. [1743]Galen, Fernelius, Felix Plater, Valescus de Taranta, &c., reckon afflictions, miseries, even all these contentions, and vexations of the mind, as principal causes, in that they take away sleep, hinder concoction, dry up the body, and consume the substance of it. They are not so many in number, but their causes be as divers, and not one of a thousand free from them, or that can vindicate himself, whom that Ate dea, [1744]Per hominum capita molliter ambulans, Plantas pedum teneras habens:

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

Homer's Goddess Ate hath not involved into this discontented [1745]rank, or plagued with some misery or other. Hyginus, fab. 220, to this purpose hath a pleasant tale. Dame Cura by chance went over a brook, and taking up some of the dirty slime, made an image of it; Jupiter eftsoons coming by, put life to it, but Cura and Jupiter could not agree what name to give him, or who should own him; the matter was referred to Saturn as judge; he gave this arbitrement: his name shall be Homo ab humo, Cura eum possideat quamdiu vivat, Care shall have him whilst he lives, Jupiter his soul, and Tellus his body when he dies. But to leave tales. A general cause, a continuate cause, an inseparable accident, to all men, is discontent, care, misery; were there no other particular affliction (which who is free from?) to molest a man in this life, the very cogitation of that common misery were enough to macerate, and make him weary of his life; to think that he can never be secure, but still in danger, sorrow, grief, and persecution. For to begin at the hour of his birth, as [1746]Pliny doth elegantly describe it, he is born naked, and falls [1747]a whining at the very first: he is swaddled, and bound up like a prisoner, cannot help himself, and so he continues to his life's end. Cujusque ferae pabulum, saith [1748]Seneca, impatient of heat and cold, impatient of labour, impatient of idleness, exposed to fortune's contumelies. To a naked mariner Lucretius compares him, cast on shore by shipwreck, cold and comfortless in an unknown land: [1749]no estate, age, sex, can secure himself from this common misery. A man that is born of a woman is of short continuance, and full of trouble, Job xiv. 1, 22. And while his flesh is upon him he shall be sorrowful, and while his soul is in him it shall mourn. All his days are sorrow and his travels griefs: his heart also taketh not rest in the night. Eccles. ii. 23, and ii. 11. All that is in it is sorrow and vexation of spirit. [1750]Ingress, progress, regress, egress, much alike: blindness seizeth on us in the beginning, labour in the middle, grief in the end, error in all. What day ariseth to us without some grief, care, or anguish? Or what so secure and pleasing a morning have we seen, that hath not been overcast before the evening? One is miserable, another ridiculous, a third odious. One complains of this grievance, another of that. Aliquando nervi, aliquando pedes vexant, (Seneca) nunc distillatio, nunc epatis morbus; nunc deest, nunc superest sanguis: now the head aches, then the feet, now the lungs, then the liver, &c. Huic sensus exuberat, sed est pudori degener sanguis, &c. He is rich, but base born; he is noble, but poor; a third hath means, but he wants health peradventure, or wit to manage his estate; children vex one, wife a second, &c. Nemo facile cum conditione sua concordat, no man is pleased with his fortune, a pound of sorrow is familiarly mixed with a dram of content, little or no joy, little comfort, but [1751]everywhere danger, contention, anxiety, in all places: go where thou wilt, and thou shalt find discontents, cares, woes, complaints, sickness, diseases, encumbrances, exclamations: If thou look into the market, there (saith [1752] Chrysostom) is brawling and contention; if to the court, there knavery and flattery, &c.; if to a private man's house, there's cark and care, heaviness, &c. As he said of old, [1753]Nil homine in terra spirat miserum magis alma?

No creature so miserable as man, so generally molested, [1754]in miseries of body, in miseries of mind, miseries of heart, in miseries asleep, in miseries awake, in miseries wheresoever he turns, as Bernard found, Nunquid tentatio est vita humana super terram? A mere temptation is our life, (Austin, confess. lib. 10. cap. 28,) catena perpetuorum malorum, et quis potest molestias et difficultates pati? Who can endure the miseries of it? [1755]In prosperity we are insolent and intolerable, dejected in adversity, in all fortunes foolish and miserable. [1756]In adversity I wish for prosperity, and in prosperity I am afraid of adversity. What mediocrity may be found? Where is no temptation? What condition of life is free? [1757]Wisdom hath labour annexed to it, glory, envy; riches and cares, children and encumbrances, pleasure and diseases, rest and beggary, go together: as if a man were therefore born (as the Platonists hold) to be punished in this life for some precedent sins. Or that, as [1758]Pliny complains, Nature may be rather accounted a stepmother, than a mother unto us, all things considered: no creature's life so brittle, so full of fear, so mad, so furious; only man is plagued with envy, discontent, griefs, covetousness, ambition, superstition. Our whole life is an Irish sea, wherein there is nought to be expected but tempestuous storms and troublesome waves, and those infinite, [1759]Tantum malorum pelagus aspicio, Ut non sit inde enatandi copia,

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

He that erst marched like Xerxes with innumerable armies, as rich as Croesus, now shifts for himself in a poor cock-boat, is bound in iron chains, with Bajazet the Turk, and a footstool with Aurelian, for a tyrannising conqueror to trample on. So many casualties there are, that as Seneca said of a city consumed with fire, Una dies interest inter maximum civitatem et nullam, one day betwixt a great city and none: so many grievances from outward accidents, and from ourselves, our own indiscretion, inordinate appetite, one day betwixt a man and no man. And which is worse, as if discontents and miseries would not come fast enough upon us: homo homini daemon, we maul, persecute, and study how to sting, gall, and vex one another with mutual hatred, abuses, injuries; preying upon and devouring as so many, [1780]ravenous birds; and as jugglers, panders, bawds, cozening one another; or raging as [1781]wolves, tigers, and devils, we take a delight to torment one another; men are evil, wicked, malicious, treacherous, and [1782]naught, not loving one another, or loving themselves, not hospitable, charitable, nor sociable as they ought to be, but counterfeit, dissemblers, ambidexters, all for their own ends, hard-hearted, merciless, pitiless, and to benefit themselves, they care not what mischief they procure to others. [1783]Praxinoe and Gorgo in the poet, when they had got in to see those costly sights, they then cried bene est, and would thrust out all the rest: when they are rich themselves, in honour, preferred, full, and have even that they would, they debar others of those pleasures which youth requires, and they formerly have enjoyed. He sits at table in a soft chair at ease, but he doth remember in the mean time that a tired waiter stands behind him, an hungry fellow ministers to him full, he is athirst that gives him drink (saith [1784]Epictetus) and is silent whilst he speaks his pleasure: pensive, sad, when he laughs. Pleno se proluit auro: he feasts, revels, and profusely spends, hath variety of robes, sweet music, ease, and all the pleasure the world can afford, whilst many an hunger-starved poor creature pines in the street, wants clothes to cover him, labours hard all day long, runs, rides for a trifle, fights peradventure from sun to sun, sick and ill, weary, full of pain and grief, is in great distress and sorrow of heart. He loathes and scorns his inferior, hates or emulates his equal, envies his superior, insults over all such as are under him, as if he were of another species, a demigod, not subject to any fall, or human infirmities. Generally they love not, are not beloved again: they tire out others' bodies with continual labour, they themselves living at ease, caring for none else, sibi nati; and are so far many times from putting to their helping hand, that they seek all means to depress, even most worthy and well deserving, better than themselves, those whom they are by the laws of nature bound to relieve and help, as much as in them lies, they will let them caterwaul, starve, beg, and hang, before they will any ways (though it be in their power) assist or ease: [1785]so unnatural are they for the most part, so unregardful; so hard-hearted, so churlish, proud, insolent, so dogged, of so bad a disposition. And being so brutish, so devilishly bent one towards another, how is it possible but that we should be discontent of all sides, full of cares, woes, and miseries? If this be not a sufficient proof of their discontent and misery, examine every condition and calling apart. Kings, princes, monarchs, and magistrates seem to be most happy, but look into their estate, you shall [1786]find them to be most encumbered with cares, in perpetual fear, agony, suspicion, jealousy: that, as [1787]he said of a crown, if they knew but the discontents that accompany it, they would not stoop to take it up. Quem mihi regent dabis (saith Chrysostom) non curis plenum? What king canst thou show me, not full of cares? [1788]Look not on his crown, but consider his afflictions; attend not his number of servants, but multitude of crosses. Nihil aliud potestas culminis, quam tempestas mentis, as Gregory seconds him; sovereignty is a tempest of the soul: Sylla like they have brave titles, but terrible fits: splendorem titulo, cruciatum animo: which made [1789]Demosthenes vow, si vel ad tribunal, vel ad interitum duceretur: if to be a judge, or to be condemned, were put to his choice, he would be condemned. Rich men are in the same predicament; what their pains are, stulti nesciunt, ipsi sentiunt: they feel, fools perceive not, as I shall prove elsewhere, and their wealth is brittle, like children's rattles: they come and go, there is no certainty in them: those whom they elevate, they do as suddenly depress, and leave in a vale of misery. The middle sort of men are as so many asses to bear burdens; or if they be free, and live at ease, they spend themselves, and consume their bodies and fortunes with luxury and riot, contention, emulation, &c. The poor I reserve for another [1790]place and their discontents. For particular professions, I hold as of the rest, there's no content or security in any; on what course will you pitch, how resolve? to be a divine, 'tis contemptible in the world's esteem; to be a lawyer, 'tis to be a wrangler; to be a physician, [1791]pudet lotii, 'tis loathed; a philosopher, a madman; an alchemist, a beggar; a poet, esurit, an hungry jack; a musician, a player; a schoolmaster, a drudge; an husbandman, an emmet; a merchant, his gains are uncertain; a mechanician, base; a chirurgeon, fulsome; a tradesman, a [1792]liar; a tailor, a thief; a serving-man, a slave; a soldier, a butcher; a smith, or a metalman, the pot's never from his nose; a courtier a parasite, as he could find no tree in the wood to hang himself; I can show no state of life to give content. The like you may say of all ages; children live in a perpetual slavery, still under that tyrannical government of masters; young men, and of riper years, subject to labour, and a thousand cares of the world, to treachery, falsehood, and cozenage, [1793]———Incedit per ignes, Suppositos cineri doloso,

———you incautious tread On fires, with faithless ashes overhead.

[1794]old are full of aches in their bones, cramps and convulsions, silicernia, dull of hearing, weak sighted, hoary, wrinkled, harsh, so much altered as that they cannot know their own face in a glass, a burthen to themselves and others, after 70 years, all is sorrow (as David hath it), they do not live but linger. If they be sound, they fear diseases; if sick, weary of their lives: Non est vivere, sed valere vita. One complains of want, a second of servitude, [1795]another of a secret or incurable disease; of some deformity of body, of some loss, danger, death of friends, shipwreck, persecution, imprisonment, disgrace, repulse, [1796] contumely, calumny, abuse, injury, contempt, ingratitude, unkindness, scoffs, flouts, unfortunate marriage, single life, too many children, no children, false servants, unhappy children, barrenness, banishment, oppression, frustrate hopes and ill-success, &c. [1797]Talia de genere hoc adeo sunt multa, loquacem ut Delassare valent Fabium.———

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

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

SUBSECT. XI.—Concupiscible Appetite, as Desires, Ambition, Causes.

These concupiscible and irascible appetites are as the two twists of a rope, mutually mixed one with the other, and both twining about the heart: both good, as Austin, holds, l. 14. c. 9. de civ. Dei, [1802]if they be moderate; both pernicious if they be exorbitant. This concupiscible appetite, howsoever it may seem to carry with it a show of pleasure and delight, and our concupiscences most part affect us with content and a pleasing object, yet if they be in extremes, they rack and wring us on the other side. A true saying it is, Desire hath no rest; is infinite in itself, endless; and as [1803]one calls it, a perpetual rack, [1804]or horse-mill, according to Austin, still going round as in a ring. They are not so continual, as divers, felicius atomos denumerare possem, saith [1805]Bernard, quam motus cordis; nunc haec, nunc illa cogito, you may as well reckon up the motes in the sun as them. [1806]It extends itself to everything, as Guianerius will have it, that is superfluously sought after:' or to any [1807]fervent desire, as Fernelius interprets it; be it in what kind soever, it tortures if immoderate, and is (according to [1808] Plater and others) an especial cause of melancholy. Multuosis concupiscentiis dilaniantur cogitationes meae, [1809]Austin confessed, that he was torn a pieces with his manifold desires: and so doth [1810] Bernard complain, that he could not rest for them a minute of an hour: this I would have, and that, and then I desire to be such and such. 'Tis a hard matter therefore to confine them, being they are so various and many, impossible to apprehend all. I will only insist upon some few of the chief, and most noxious in their kind, as that exorbitant appetite and desire of honour, which we commonly call ambition; love of money, which is covetousness, and that greedy desire of gain: self-love, pride, and inordinate desire of vainglory or applause, love of study in excess; love of women (which will require a just volume of itself), of the other I will briefly speak, and in their order. Ambition, a proud covetousness, or a dry thirst of honour, a great torture of the mind, composed of envy, pride, and covetousness, a gallant madness, one [1811]defines it a pleasant poison, Ambrose, a canker of the soul, an hidden plague: [1812]Bernard, a secret poison, the father of livor, and mother of hypocrisy, the moth of holiness, and cause of madness, crucifying and disquieting all that it takes hold of. [1813]Seneca calls it, rem solicitam, timidam, vanam, ventosam, a windy thing, a vain, solicitous, and fearful thing. For commonly they that, like Sisyphus, roll this restless stone of ambition, are in a perpetual agony, still [1814] perplexed, semper taciti, tritesque recedunt (Lucretius), doubtful, timorous, suspicious, loath to offend in word or deed, still cogging and colloguing, embracing, capping, cringing, applauding, flattering, fleering, visiting, waiting at men's doors, with all affability, counterfeit honesty and humility. [1815]If that will not serve, if once this humour (as [1816]Cyprian describes it) possess his thirsty soul, ambitionis salsugo ubi bibulam animam possidet, by hook and by crook he will obtain it, and from his hole he will climb to all honours and offices, if it be possible for him to get up, flattering one, bribing another, he will leave no means unessay'd to win all. [1817]It is a wonder to see how slavishly these kind of men subject themselves, when they are about a suit, to every inferior person; what pains they will take, run, ride, cast, plot, countermine, protest and swear, vow, promise, what labours undergo, early up, down late; how obsequious and affable they are, how popular and courteous, how they grin and fleer upon every man they meet; with what feasting and inviting, how they spend themselves and their fortunes, in seeking that many times, which they had much better be without; as [1818]Cyneas the orator told Pyrrhus: with what waking nights, painful hours, anxious thoughts, and bitterness of mind, inter spemque metumque, distracted and tired, they consume the interim of their time. There can be no greater plague for the present. If they do obtain their suit, which with such cost and solicitude they have sought, they are not so freed, their anxiety is anew to begin, for they are never satisfied, nihil aliud nisi imperium spirant, their thoughts, actions, endeavours are all for sovereignty and honour, like [1819]Lues Sforza that huffing Duke of Milan, a man of singular wisdom, but profound ambition, born to his own, and to the destruction of Italy, though it be to their own ruin, and friends' undoing, they will contend, they may not cease, but as a dog in a wheel, a bird in a cage, or a squirrel in a chain, so [1820]Budaeus compares them; [1821]they climb and climb still, with much labour, but never make an end, never at the top. A knight would be a baronet, and then a lord, and then a viscount, and then an earl, &c.; a doctor, a dean, and then a bishop; from tribune to praetor; from bailiff to major; first this office, and then that; as Pyrrhus in [1822]Plutarch, they will first have Greece, then Africa, and then Asia, and swell with Aesop's frog so long, till in the end they burst, or come down with Sejanus, ad Gemonias scalas, and break their own necks; or as Evangelus the piper in Lucian, that blew his pipe so long, till he fell down dead. If he chance to miss, and have a canvass, he is in a hell on the other side; so dejected, that he is ready to hang himself, turn heretic, Turk, or traitor in an instant. Enraged against his enemies, he rails, swears, fights, slanders, detracts, envies, murders: and for his own part, si appetitum explere non potest, furore corripitur; if he cannot satisfy his desire (as [1823]Bodine writes) he runs mad. So that both ways, hit or miss, he is distracted so long as his ambition lasts, he can look for no other but anxiety and care, discontent and grief in the meantime, [1824]madness itself, or violent death in the end. The event of this is common to be seen in populous cities, or in princes' courts, for a courtier's life (as Budaeus describes it) is a [1825]gallimaufry of ambition, lust, fraud, imposture, dissimulation, detraction, envy, pride; [1826]the court, a common conventicle of flatterers, time-servers, politicians, &c.; or as [1827] Anthony Perez will, the suburbs of hell itself. If you will see such discontented persons, there you shall likely find them. [1828]And which he observed of the markets of old Rome, Qui perjurum convenire vult hominem, mitto in Comitium; Qui mendacem et gloriosum, apud Cluasinae sacrum; Dites, damnosos maritos, sub basilica quaerito, &c.

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

SUBSECT. XII.—Φιλαργυρία, Covetousness, a Cause.

Plutarch, in his [1829]book whether the diseases of the body be more grievous than those of the soul, is of opinion, if you will examine all the causes of our miseries in this life, you shall find them most part to have had their beginning from stubborn anger, that furious desire of contention, or some unjust or immoderate affection, as covetousness, &c. From whence are wars and contentions amongst you? [1830]St. James asks: I will add usury, fraud, rapine, simony, oppression, lying, swearing, bearing false witness, &c. are they not from this fountain of covetousness, that greediness in getting, tenacity in keeping, sordidity in spending; that they are so wicked, [1831]unjust against God, their neighbour, themselves; all comes hence. The desire of money is the root of all evil, and they that lust after it, pierce themselves through with many sorrows, 1 Tim. vi. 10. Hippocrates therefore in his Epistle to Crateva, an herbalist, gives him this good counsel, that if it were possible, [1832] amongst other herbs, he should cut up that weed of covetousness by the roots, that there be no remainder left, and then know this for a certainty, that together with their bodies, thou mayst quickly cure all the diseases of their minds. For it is indeed the pattern, image, epitome of all melancholy, the fountain of many miseries, much discontented care and woe; this inordinate, or immoderate desire of gain, to get or keep money, as [1833]Bonaventure defines it: or, as Austin describes it, a madness of the soul, Gregory a torture; Chrysostom, an insatiable drunkenness; Cyprian, blindness, speciosum supplicium, a plague subverting kingdoms, families, an [1834]incurable disease; Budaeus, an ill habit, [1835]yielding to no remedies: neither Aesculapius nor Plutus can cure them: a continual plague, saith Solomon, and vexation of spirit, another hell. I know there be some of opinion, that covetous men are happy, and worldly, wise, that there is more pleasure in getting of wealth than in spending, and no delight in the world like unto it. 'Twas [1836]Bias' problem of old, With what art thou not weary? with getting money. What is most delectable? to gain. What is it, trow you, that makes a poor man labour all his lifetime, carry such great burdens, fare so hardly, macerate himself, and endure so much misery, undergo such base offices with so great patience, to rise up early, and lie down late, if there were not an extraordinary delight in getting and keeping of money? What makes a merchant that hath no need, satis superque domi, to range all over the world, through all those intemperate [1837]Zones of heat and cold; voluntarily to venture his life, and be content with such miserable famine, nasty usage, in a stinking ship; if there were not a pleasure and hope to get money, which doth season the rest, and mitigate his indefatigable pains? What makes them go into the bowels of the earth, an hundred fathom deep, endangering their dearest lives, enduring damps and filthy smells, when they have enough already, if they could be content, and no such cause to labour, but an extraordinary delight they take in riches. This may seem plausible at first show, a popular and strong argument; but let him that so thinks, consider better of it, and he shall soon perceive, that it is far otherwise than he supposeth; it may be haply pleasing at the first, as most part all melancholy is. For such men likely have some lucida intervalla, pleasant symptoms intermixed; but you must note that of [1838]Chrysostom, 'Tis one thing to be rich, another to be covetous: generally they are all fools, dizzards, madmen, [1839]miserable wretches, living besides themselves, sine arte fruendi, in perpetual slavery, fear, suspicion, sorrow, and discontent, plus aloes quam mellis habent; and are indeed, rather possessed by their money, than possessors: as [1840]Cyprian hath it, mancipati pecuniis; bound prentice to their goods, as [1841]Pliny; or as Chrysostom, servi divitiarum, slaves and drudges to their substance; and we may conclude of them all, as [1842]Valerius doth of Ptolomaeus king of Cyprus, He was in title a king of that island, but in his mind, a miserable drudge of money: [1843]———potiore metallis libertate carens———

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

Timidus Plutus, an old proverb, As fearful as Plutus: so doth Aristophanes and Lucian bring him in fearful still, pale, anxious, suspicious, and trusting no man, [1856]They are afraid of tempests for their corn; they are afraid of their friends lest they should ask something of them, beg or borrow; they are afraid of their enemies lest they hurt them, thieves lest they rob them; they are afraid of war and afraid of peace, afraid of rich and afraid of poor; afraid of all. Last of all, they are afraid of want, that they shall die beggars, which makes them lay up still, and dare not use that they have: what if a dear year come, or dearth, or some loss? and were it not that they are both to [1857]lay out money on a rope, they would be hanged forthwith, and sometimes die to save charges, and make away themselves, if their corn and cattle miscarry; though they have abundance left, as [1858]Agellius notes. [1859]Valerius makes mention of one that in a famine sold a mouse for 200 pence, and famished himself: such are their cares, [1860]griefs and perpetual fears. These symptoms are elegantly expressed by Theophrastus in his character of a covetous man; [1861]lying in bed, he asked his wife whether she shut the trunks and chests fast, the cap-case be sealed, and whether the hall door be bolted; and though she say all is well, he riseth out of his bed in his shirt, barefoot and barelegged, to see whether it be so, with a dark lantern searching every corner, scarce sleeping a wink all night. Lucian in that pleasant and witty dialogue called Gallus, brings in Mycillus the cobbler disputing with his cock, sometimes Pythagoras; where after much speech pro and con, to prove the happiness of a mean estate, and discontents of a rich man, Pythagoras' cock in the end, to illustrate by examples that which he had said, brings him to Gnyphon the usurer's house at midnight, and after that to Encrates; whom, they found both awake, casting up their accounts, and telling of their money, [1862]lean, dry, pale and anxious, still suspecting lest somebody should make a hole through the wall, and so get in; or if a rat or mouse did but stir, starting upon a sudden, and running to the door to see whether all were fast. Plautus, in his Aulularia, makes old Euclio [1863]commanding Staphyla his wife to shut the doors fast, and the fire to be put out, lest anybody should make that an errand to come to his house: when he washed his hands, [1864]he was loath to fling away the foul water, complaining that he was undone, because the smoke got out of his roof. And as he went from home, seeing a crow scratch upon the muck-hill, returned in all haste, taking it for malum omen, an ill sign, his money was digged up; with many such. He that will but observe their actions, shall find these and many such passages not feigned for sport, but really performed, verified indeed by such covetous and miserable wretches, and that it is, [1865]———manifesta phrenesis Ut locuples moriaris egenti vivere fato.

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

SUBSECT. XIII.—Love of Gaming, &c. and pleasures immoderate; Causes.

It is a wonder to see, how many poor, distressed, miserable wretches, one shall meet almost in every path and street, begging for an alms, that have been well descended, and sometimes in flourishing estate, now ragged, tattered, and ready to be starved, lingering out a painful life, in discontent and grief of body and mind, and all through immoderate lust, gaming, pleasure and riot. 'Tis the common end of all sensual epicures and brutish prodigals, that are stupefied and carried away headlong with their several pleasures and lusts. Cebes in his table, St. Ambrose in his second book of Abel and Cain, and amongst the rest Lucian in his tract de Mercede conductis, hath excellent well deciphered such men's proceedings in his picture of Opulentia, whom he feigns to dwell on the top of a high mount, much sought after by many suitors; at their first coming they are generally entertained by pleasure and dalliance, and have all the content that possibly may be given, so long as their money lasts: but when their means fail, they are contemptibly thrust out at a back door, headlong, and there left to shame, reproach, despair. And he at first that had so many attendants, parasites, and followers, young and lusty, richly arrayed, and all the dainty fare that might be had, with all kind of welcome and good respect, is now upon a sudden stripped of all, [1866]pale, naked, old, diseased and forsaken, cursing his stars, and ready to strangle himself; having no other company but repentance, sorrow, grief, derision, beggary, and contempt, which are his daily attendants to his life's end. As the [1867]prodigal son had exquisite music, merry company, dainty fare at first; but a sorrowful reckoning in the end; so have all such vain delights and their followers. [1868]Tristes voluptatum exitus, et quisquis voluptatum suarum reminisci volet, intelliget, as bitter as gall and wormwood is their last; grief of mind, madness itself. The ordinary rocks upon which such men do impinge and precipitate themselves, are cards, dice, hawks, and hounds, Insanum venandi studium, one calls it, insanae substructiones: their mad structures, disports, plays, &c., when they are unseasonably used, imprudently handled, and beyond their fortunes. Some men are consumed by mad fantastical buildings, by making galleries, cloisters, terraces, walks, orchards, gardens, pools, rillets, bowers, and such like places of pleasure; Inutiles domos, [1869]Xenophon calls them, which howsoever they be delightsome things in themselves, and acceptable to all beholders, an ornament, and benefiting some great men: yet unprofitable to others, and the sole overthrow of their estates. Forestus in his observations hath an example of such a one that became melancholy upon the like occasion, having consumed his substance in an unprofitable building, which would afterward yield him no advantage. Others, I say, are [1870] overthrown by those mad sports of hawking and hunting; honest recreations, and fit for some great men, but not for every base inferior person; whilst they will maintain their falconers, dogs, and hunting nags, their wealth, saith [1871]Salmutze, runs away with hounds, and their fortunes fly away with hawks. They persecute beasts so long, till in the end they themselves degenerate into beasts, as [1872]Agrippa taxeth them, [1873]Actaeon like, for as he was eaten to death by his own dogs, so do they devour themselves and their patrimonies, in such idle and unnecessary disports, neglecting in the mean time their more necessary business, and to follow their vocations. Over-mad too sometimes are our great men in delighting, and doting too much on it. [1874]When they drive poor husbandmen from their tillage, as [1875]Sarisburiensis objects, Polycrat. l. 1. c. 4, fling down country farms, and whole towns, to make parks, and forests, starving men to feed beasts, and [1876]punishing in the mean time such a man that shall molest their game, more severely than him that is otherwise a common hacker, or a notorious thief. But great men are some ways to be excused, the meaner sort have no evasion why they should not be counted mad. Poggius the Florentine tells a merry story to this purpose, condemning the folly and impertinent business of such kind of persons. A physician of Milan, saith he, that cured mad men, had a pit of water in his house, in which he kept his patients, some up to the knees, some to the girdle, some to the chin, pro modo insaniae, as they were more or less affected. One of them by chance, that was well recovered, stood in the door, and seeing a gallant ride by with a hawk on his fist, well mounted, with his spaniels after him, would needs know to what use all this preparation served; he made answer to kill certain fowls; the patient demanded again, what his fowl might be worth which he killed in a year; he replied 5 or 10 crowns; and when he urged him farther what his dogs, horse, and hawks stood him in, he told him 400 crowns; with that the patient bad be gone, as he loved his life and welfare, for if our master come and find thee here, he will put thee in the pit amongst mad men up to the chin: taxing the madness and folly of such vain men that spend themselves in those idle sports, neglecting their business and necessary affairs. Leo Decimus, that hunting pope, is much discommended by [1877]Jovius in his life, for his immoderate desire of hawking and hunting, in so much that (as he saith) he would sometimes live about Ostia weeks and months together, leave suitors [1878]unrespected, bulls and pardons unsigned, to his own prejudice, and many private men's loss. [1879]And if he had been by chance crossed in his sport, or his game not so good, he was so impatient, that he would revile and miscall many times men of great worth with most bitter taunts, look so sour, be so angry and waspish, so grieved and molested, that it is incredible to relate it. But if he had good sport, and been well pleased, on the other side, incredibili munificentia, with unspeakable bounty and munificence he would reward all his fellow hunters, and deny nothing to any suitor when he was in that mood. To say truth, 'tis the common humour of all gamesters, as Galataeus observes, if they win, no men living are so jovial and merry, but [1880]if they lose, though it be but a trifle, two or three games at tables, or a dealing at cards for two pence a game, they are so choleric and testy that no man may speak with them, and break many times into violent passions, oaths, imprecations, and unbeseeming speeches, little differing from mad men for the time. Generally of all gamesters and gaming, if it be excessive, thus much we may conclude, that whether they win or lose for the present, their winnings are not Munera fortunae, sed insidiae as that wise Seneca determines, not fortune's gifts, but baits, the common catastrophe is [1881]beggary, [1882]Ut pestis vitam, sic adimit alea pecuniam, as the plague takes away life, doth gaming goods, for [1883] omnes nudi, inopes et egeni; [1884]Alea Scylla vorax, species certissima furti, Non contenta bonis animum quoque perfida mergit, Foeda, furax, infamis, iners, furiosa, ruina.

For a little pleasure they take, and some small gains and gettings now and then, their wives and children are ringed in the meantime, and they themselves with loss of body and soul rue it in the end. I will say nothing of those prodigious prodigals, perdendae pecuniae, genitos, as he [1885] taxed Anthony, Qui patrimonium sine ulla fori calumnia amittunt, saith [1886]Cyprian, and [1887]mad sybaritical spendthrifts, Quique una comedunt patrimonia coena; that eat up all at a breakfast, at a supper, or amongst bawds, parasites, and players, consume themselves in an instant, as if they had flung it into [1888]Tiber, with great wages, vain and idle expenses, &c., not themselves only, but even all their friends, as a man desperately swimming drowns him that comes to help him, by suretyship and borrowing they will willingly undo all their associates and allies. [1889] Irati pecuniis, as he saith, angry with their money: [1890]what with a wanton eye, a liquorish tongue, and a gamesome hand, when they have indiscreetly impoverished themselves, mortgaged their wits, together with their lands, and entombed their ancestors' fair possessions in their bowels, they may lead the rest of their days in prison, as many times they do; they repent at leisure; and when all is gone begin to be thrifty: but Sera est in fundo parsimonia, 'tis then too late to look about; their [1891]end is misery, sorrow, shame, and discontent. And well they deserve to be infamous and discontent. [1892]Catamidiari in Amphitheatro, as by Adrian the emperor's edict they were of old, decoctores bonorum suorum, so he calls them, prodigal fools, to be publicly shamed, and hissed out of all societies, rather than to be pitied or relieved. [1893]The Tuscans and Boetians brought their bankrupts into the marketplace in a bier with an empty purse carried before them, all the boys following, where they sat all day circumstante plebe, to be infamous and ridiculous. At [1894]Padua in Italy they have a stone called the stone of turpitude, near the senate-house, where spendthrifts, and such as disclaim non-payment of debts, do sit with their hinder parts bare, that by that note of disgrace others may be terrified from all such vain expense, or borrowing more than they can tell how to pay. The [1895]civilians of old set guardians over such brain-sick prodigals, as they did over madmen, to moderate their expenses, that they should not so loosely consume their fortunes, to the utter undoing of their families. I may not here omit those two main plagues, and common dotages of human kind, wine and women, which have infatuated and besotted myriads of people; they go commonly together. [1896]Qui vino indulget, quemque aloa decoquit, ille In venerem putret———

To whom is sorrow, saith Solomon, Pro. xxiii. 39, to whom is woe, but to such a one as loves drink? it causeth torture, (vino tortus et ira) and bitterness of mind, Sirac. 31. 21. Vinum furoris, Jeremy calls it, 15. cap. wine of madness, as well he may, for insanire facit sanos, it makes sound men sick and sad, and wise men [1897]mad, to say and do they know not what. Accidit hodie terribilis casus (saith [1898]S. Austin) hear a miserable accident; Cyrillus' son this day in his drink, Matrem praegnantem nequiter oppressit, sororem violare voluit, patrem occidit fere, et duas alias sorores ad mortem vulneravit, would have violated his sister, killed his father, &c. A true saying it was of him, Vino dari laetitiam et dolorem, drink causeth mirth, and drink causeth sorrow, drink causeth poverty and want, (Prov. xxi.) shame and disgrace. Multi ignobiles evasere ob vini potum, et (Austin) amissis honoribus profugi aberrarunt: many men have made shipwreck of their fortunes, and go like rogues and beggars, having turned all their substance into aurum potabile, that otherwise might have lived in good worship and happy estate, and for a few hours' pleasure, for their Hilary term's but short, or [1899]free madness, as Seneca calls it, purchase unto themselves eternal tediousness and trouble. That other madness is on women, Apostatare facit cor, saith the wise man, [1900]Atque homini cerebrum minuit. Pleasant at first she is, like Dioscorides Rhododaphne, that fair plant to the eye, but poison to the taste, the rest as bitter as wormwood in the end (Prov. v. 4.) and sharp as a two-edged sword, (vii. 27.) Her house is the way to hell, and goes down to the chambers of death. What more sorrowful can be said? they are miserable in this life, mad, beasts, led like [1901]oxen to the slaughter: and that which is worse, whoremasters and drunkards shall be judged, amittunt gratiam, saith Austin, perdunt gloriam, incurrunt damnationem aeternam. They lose grace and glory; [1902]———brevis illa voluptas Abrogat aeternum caeli decus———

they gain hell and eternal damnation.

SUBSECT. XIV.—Philautia, or Self-love, Vainglory, Praise, Honour, Immoderate Applause, Pride, overmuch Joy, &c., Causes.

Self-love, pride, and vainglory, [1903]caecus amor sui, which Chrysostom calls one of the devil's three great nets; [1904]Bernard, an arrow which pierceth the soul through, and slays it; a sly, insensible enemy, not perceived, are main causes. Where neither anger, lust, covetousness, fear, sorrow, &c., nor any other perturbation can lay hold; this will slyly and insensibly pervert us, Quem non gula vicit, Philautia, superavit, (saith Cyprian) whom surfeiting could not overtake, self-love hath overcome. [1905]He hath scorned all money, bribes, gifts, upright otherwise and sincere, hath inserted himself to no fond imagination, and sustained all those tyrannical concupiscences of the body, hath lost all his honour, captivated by vainglory. Chrysostom, sup. Io. Tu sola animum mentemque peruris, gloria. A great assault and cause of our present malady, although we do most part neglect, take no notice of it, yet this is a violent batterer of our souls, causeth melancholy and dotage. This pleasing humour; this soft and whispering popular air, Amabilis insania; this delectable frenzy, most irrefragable passion, Mentis gratissimus error, this acceptable disease, which so sweetly sets upon us, ravisheth our senses, lulls our souls asleep, puffs up our hearts as so many bladders, and that without all feeling, [1906]insomuch as those that are misaffected with it, never so much as once perceive it, or think of any cure. We commonly love him best in this [1907]malady, that doth us most harm, and are very willing to be hurt; adulationibus nostris libentur facemus (saith [1908] Jerome) we love him, we love him for it: [1909]O Bonciari suave, suave fuit a te tali haec tribui; 'Twas sweet to hear it. And as [1910]Pliny doth ingenuously confess to his dear friend Augurinus, all thy writings are most acceptable, but those especially that speak of us. Again, a little after to Maximus, [1911]I cannot express how pleasing it is to me to hear myself commended. Though we smile to ourselves, at least ironically, when parasites bedaub us with false encomiums, as many princes cannot choose but do, Quum tale quid nihil intra se repererint, when they know they come as far short, as a mouse to an elephant, of any such virtues; yet it doth us good. Though we seem many times to be angry, [1912] and blush at our own praises, yet our souls inwardly rejoice, it puffs us up; 'tis fallax suavitas, blandus daemon, makes us swell beyond our bounds, and forget ourselves. Her two daughters are lightness of mind, immoderate joy and pride, not excluding those other concomitant vices, which [1913]Iodocus Lorichius reckons up; bragging, hypocrisy, peevishness, and curiosity. Now the common cause of this mischief, ariseth from ourselves or others, [1914]we are active and passive. It proceeds inwardly from ourselves, as we are active causes, from an overweening conceit we have of our good parts, own worth, (which indeed is no worth) our bounty, favour, grace, valour, strength, wealth, patience, meekness, hospitality, beauty, temperance, gentry, knowledge, wit, science, art, learning, our [1915] excellent gifts and fortunes, for which, Narcissus-like, we admire, flatter, and applaud ourselves, and think all the world esteems so of us; and as deformed women easily believe those that tell them they be fair, we are too credulous of our own good parts and praises, too well persuaded of ourselves. We brag and venditate our [1916]own works, and scorn all others in respect of us; Inflati scientia, (saith Paul) our wisdom, [1917]our learning, all our geese are swans, and we as basely esteem and vilify other men's, as we do over-highly prize and value our own. We will not suffer them to be in secundis, no, not in tertiis; what, Mecum confertur Ulysses? they are Mures, Muscae, culices prae se, nits and flies compared to his inexorable and supercilious, eminent and arrogant worship: though indeed they be far before him. Only wise, only rich, only fortunate, valorous, and fair, puffed up with this tympany of self-conceit; [1918]as that proud Pharisee, they are not (as they suppose) like other men, of a purer and more precious metal: [1919]Soli rei gerendi sunt efficaces, which that wise Periander held of such: [1920]meditantur omne qui prius negotium, &c. Novi quendam (saith [1921]Erasmus) I knew one so arrogant that he thought himself inferior to no man living, like [1922]Callisthenes the philosopher, that neither held Alexander's acts, or any other subject worthy of his pen, such was his insolency; or Seleucus king of Syria, who thought none fit to contend with him but the Romans. [1923]Eos solos dignos ratus quibuscum de imperio certaret. That which Tully writ to Atticus long since, is still in force. [1924]There was never yet true poet nor orator, that thought any other better than himself. And such for the most part are your princes, potentates, great philosophers, historiographers, authors of sects or heresies, and all our great scholars, as [1925]Hierom defines; a natural philosopher is a glorious creature, and a very slave of rumour, fame, and popular opinion, and though they write de contemptu gloriae, yet as he observes, they will put their names to their books. Vobis et famae, me semper dedi, saith Trebellius Pollio, I have wholly consecrated myself to you and fame. 'Tis all my desire, night and day, 'tis all my study to raise my name. Proud [1926]Pliny seconds him; Quamquam O! &c. and that vainglorious [1927]orator is not ashamed to confess in an Epistle of his to Marcus Lecceius, Ardeo incredibili cupididate, &c. I burn with an incredible desire to have my [1928]name registered in thy book. Out of this fountain proceed all those cracks and brags,—[1929]speramus carmina fingi Posse linenda cedro, et leni servanda cupresso—[1930]Non usitata nec tenui ferar penna.—nec in terra morabor longius. Nil parvum aut humili modo, nil mortale loquor. Dicar qua violens obstrepit Ausidus.—Exegi monumentum aere perennius. Iamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis, &c. cum venit ille dies, &c. parte tamen meliore mei super alta perennis astra ferar, nomenque erit indelebile nostrum. (This of Ovid I have paraphrased in English.) And when I am dead and gone, My corpse laid under a stone My fame shall yet survive, And I shall be alive, In these my works for ever, My glory shall persever, &c.

And that of Ennius, Nemo me lachrymis decoret, neque funera fletu Faxit, cur? volito docta per ora virum.

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

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

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

Or if we do applaud, honour and admire, quota pars, how small a part, in respect of the whole world, never so much as hears our names, how few take notice of us, how slender a tract, as scant as Alcibiades' land in a map! And yet every man must and will be immortal, as he hopes, and extend his fame to our antipodes, when as half, no not a quarter of his own province or city, neither knows nor hears of him—but say they did, what's a city to a kingdom, a kingdom to Europe, Europe to the world, the world itself that must have an end, if compared to the least visible star in the firmament, eighteen times bigger than it? and then if those stars be infinite, and every star there be a sun, as some will, and as this sun of ours hath his planets about him, all inhabited, what proportion bear we to them, and where's our glory? Orbem terrarum victor Romanus habebat, as he cracked in Petronius, all the world was under Augustus: and so in Constantine's time, Eusebius brags he governed all the world, universum mundum praeclare admodum administravit,—et omnes orbis gentes Imperatori subjecti: so of Alexander it is given out, the four monarchies, &c. when as neither Greeks nor Romans ever had the fifteenth part of the now known world, nor half of that which was then described. What braggadocios are they and we then? quam brevis hic de nobis sermo, as [1941]he said, [1942]pudebit aucti nominis, how short a time, how little a while doth this fame of ours continue? Every private province, every small territory and city, when we have all done, will yield as generous spirits, as brave examples in all respects, as famous as ourselves, Cadwallader in Wales, Rollo in Normandy, Robin Hood and Little John, are as much renowned in Sherwood, as Caesar in Rome, Alexander in Greece, or his Hephestion, [1943] Omnis aetas omnisque populus in exemplum et admirationem veniet, every town, city, book, is full of brave soldiers, senators, scholars; and though [1944]Bracyclas was a worthy captain, a good man, and as they thought, not to be matched in Lacedaemon, yet as his mother truly said, plures habet Sparta Bracyda meliores, Sparta had many better men than ever he was; and howsoever thou admirest thyself, thy friend, many an obscure fellow the world never took notice of, had he been in place or action, would have done much better than he or he, or thou thyself. Another kind of mad men there is opposite to these, that are insensibly mad, and know not of it, such as contemn all praise and glory, think themselves most free, when as indeed they are most mad: calcant sed alio fastu: a company of cynics, such as are monks, hermits, anchorites, that contemn the world, contemn themselves, contemn all titles, honours, offices: and yet in that contempt are more proud than any man living whatsoever. They are proud in humility, proud in that they are not proud, saepe homo de vanae gloriae contemptu, vanius gloriatur, as Austin hath it, confess. lib. 10, cap. 38, like Diogenes, intus gloriantur, they brag inwardly, and feed themselves fat with a self-conceit of sanctity, which is no better than hypocrisy. They go in sheep's russet, many great men that might maintain themselves in cloth of gold, and seem to be dejected, humble by their outward carriage, when as inwardly they are swollen full of pride, arrogancy, and self-conceit. And therefore Seneca adviseth his friend Lucilius, [1945]in his attire and gesture, outward actions, especially to avoid all such things as are more notable in themselves: as a rugged attire, hirsute head, horrid beard, contempt of money, coarse lodging, and whatsoever leads to fame that opposite way. All this madness yet proceeds from ourselves, the main engine which batters us is from others, we are merely passive in this business: from a company of parasites and flatterers, that with immoderate praise, and bombast epithets, glossing titles, false eulogiums, so bedaub and applaud, gild over many a silly and undeserving man, that they clap him quite out of his wits. Res imprimis violenta est, as Hierom notes, this common applause is a most violent thing, laudum placenta, a drum, fife, and trumpet cannot so animate; that fattens men, erects and dejects them in an instant. [1946] Palma negata macrum, donata reducit opimum. It makes them fat and lean, as frost doth conies. [1947]And who is that mortal man that can so contain himself, that if he be immoderately commended and applauded, will not be moved? Let him be what he will, those parasites will overturn him: if he be a king, he is one of the nine worthies, more than a man, a god forthwith,—[1948]edictum Domini Deique nostri: and they will sacrifice unto him, [1949]———divinos si tu patiaris honores, Ultro ipsi dabimus meritasque sacrabimus aras.

If he be a soldier, then Themistocles, Epaminondas, Hector, Achilles, duo fulmina belli, triumviri terrarum, &c., and the valour of both Scipios is too little for him, he is invictissimus, serenissimus, multis trophaeus ornatissimus, naturae, dominus, although he be lepus galeatus, indeed a very coward, a milk-sop, [1950]and as he said of Xerxes, postremus in pugna, primus in fuga, and such a one as never durst look his enemy in the face. If he be a big man, then is he a Samson, another Hercules; if he pronounce a speech, another Tully or Demosthenes; as of Herod in the Acts, the voice of God and not of man: if he can make a verse, Homer, Virgil, &c., And then my silly weak patient takes all these eulogiums to himself; if he be a scholar so commended for his much reading, excellent style, method, &c., he will eviscerate himself like a spider, study to death, Laudatas ostendit avis Junonia pennas, peacock-like he will display all his feathers. If he be a soldier, and so applauded, his valour extolled, though it be impar congressus, as that of Troilus and Achilles, Infelix puer, he will combat with a giant, run first upon a breach, as another [1951]Philippus, he will ride into the thickest of his enemies. Commend his housekeeping, and he will beggar himself; commend his temperance, he will starve himself. ———laudataque virtus Crescit, et immensum gloria calcar habet.[1952]

he is mad, mad, mad, no woe with him:—impatiens consortis erit, he will over the [1953]Alps to be talked of, or to maintain his credit. Commend an ambitious man, some proud prince or potentate, si plus aequo laudetur (saith [1954]Erasmus) cristas erigit, exuit hominem, Deum se putat, he sets up his crest, and will be no longer a man but a God. [1955]———nihil est quod credere de se Non audet quum laudatur diis aequa potestas.[1956]

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

SUBSECT. XV.—Love of Learning, or overmuch study. With a Digression of the misery of Scholars, and why the Muses are Melancholy.

Leonartus Fuchsius Instit. lib. iii. sect. 1. cap. 1. Felix Plater, lib. iii. de mentis alienat. Herc. de Saxonia, Tract. post. de melanch. cap. 3, speak of a [1970]peculiar fury, which comes by overmuch study. Fernelius, lib. 1, cap. 18, [1971]puts study, contemplation, and continual meditation, as an especial cause of madness: and in his 86 consul. cites the same words. Jo. Arculanus, in lib. 9, Rhasis ad Alnansorem, cap. 16, amongst other causes reckons up studium vehemens: so doth Levinus Lemnius, lib. de occul. nat. mirac. lib. 1, cap. 16. [1972]Many men (saith he) come to this malady by continual [1973]study, and night-waking, and of all other men, scholars are most subject to it: and such Rhasis adds, [1974]that have commonly the finest wits. Cont. lib. 1, tract. 9, Marsilius Ficinus, de sanit. tuenda, lib. 1. cap. 7, puts melancholy amongst one of those five principal plagues of students, 'tis a common Maul unto them all, and almost in some measure an inseparable companion. Varro belike for that cause calls Tristes Philosophos et severos, severe, sad, dry, tetric, are common epithets to scholars: and [1975]Patritius therefore, in the institution of princes, would not have them to be great students. For (as Machiavel holds) study weakens their bodies, dulls the spirits, abates their strength and courage; and good scholars are never good soldiers, which a certain Goth well perceived, for when his countrymen came into Greece, and would have burned all their books, he cried out against it, by no means they should do it, [1976] leave them that plague, which in time will consume all their vigour, and martial spirits. The [1977]Turks abdicated Cornutus the next heir from the empire, because he was so much given to his book: and 'tis the common tenet of the world, that learning dulls and diminisheth the spirits, and so per consequens produceth melancholy. Two main reasons may be given of it, why students should be more subject to this malady than others. The one is, they live a sedentary, solitary life, sibi et musis, free from bodily exercise, and those ordinary disports which other men use: and many times if discontent and idleness concur with it, which is too frequent, they are precipitated into this gulf on a sudden: but the common cause is overmuch study; too much learning (as [1978]Festus told Paul) hath made thee mad; 'tis that other extreme which effects it. So did Trincavelius, lib. 1, consil. 12 and 13, find by his experience, in two of his patients, a young baron, and another that contracted this malady by too vehement study. So Forestus, observat. l. 10, observ. 13, in a young divine in Louvain, that was mad, and said [1979]he had a Bible in his head: Marsilius Ficinus de sanit. tuend. lib. 1, cap. 1, 3, 4, and lib. 2, cap. 16, gives many reasons, [1980] why students dote more often than others. The first is their negligence; [1981]other men look to their tools, a painter will wash his pencils, a smith will look to his hammer, anvil, forge; a husbandman will mend his plough-irons, and grind his hatchet if it be dull; a falconer or huntsman will have an especial care of his hawks, hounds, horses, dogs, &c.; a musician will string and unstring his lute, &c.; only scholars neglect that instrument, their brain and spirits (I mean) which they daily use, and by which they range overall the world, which by much study is consumed. Vide (saith Lucian) ne funiculum nimis intendendo aliquando abrumpas: See thou twist not the rope so hard, till at length it [1982]break. Facinus in his fourth chap. gives some other reasons; Saturn and Mercury, the patrons of learning, they are both dry planets: and Origanus assigns the same cause, why Mercurialists are so poor, and most part beggars; for that their president Mercury had no better fortune himself. The destinies of old put poverty upon him as a punishment; since when, poetry and beggary are Gemelli, twin-born brats, inseparable companions; [1983]And to this day is every scholar poor; Gross gold from them runs headlong to the boor:

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

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

and labour hard for it. So did Seneca, by his own confession, ep. 8. [1987]Not a day that I spend idle, part of the night I keep mine eyes open, tired with waking, and now slumbering to their continual task. Hear Tully pro Archia Poeta: whilst others loitered, and took their pleasures, he was continually at his book, so they do that will be scholars, and that to the hazard (I say) of their healths, fortunes, wits, and lives. How much did Aristotle and Ptolemy spend? unius regni precium they say, more than a king's ransom; how many crowns per annum, to perfect arts, the one about his History of Creatures, the other on his Almagest? How much time did Thebet Benchorat employ, to find out the motion of the eighth sphere? forty years and more, some write: how many poor scholars have lost their wits, or become dizzards, neglecting all worldly affairs and their own health, wealth, esse and bene esse, to gain knowledge for which, after all their pains, in this world's esteem they are accounted ridiculous and silly fools, idiots, asses, and (as oft they are) rejected, contemned, derided, doting, and mad. Look for examples in Hildesheim spicel. 2, de mania et delirio: read Trincavellius, l. 3. consil. 36, et c. 17. Montanus, consil. 233. [1988]Garceus de Judic. genit. cap. 33. Mercurialis, consil. 86, cap. 25. Prosper [1989]Calenius in his Book de atra bile; Go to Bedlam and ask. Or if they keep their wits, yet they are esteemed scrubs and fools by reason of their carriage: after seven years' study ———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 ἕυρηκα, I have found: [1995]and was commonly so intent to his studies, that he never perceived what was done about him: when the city was taken, and the soldiers now ready to rifle his house, he took no notice of it. St. Bernard rode all day long by the Lemnian lake, and asked at last where he was, Marullus, lib. 2, cap. 4. It was Democritus's carriage alone that made the Abderites suppose him to have been mad, and send for Hippocrates to cure him: if he had been in any solemn company, he would upon all occasions fall a laughing. Theophrastus saith as much of Heraclitus, for that he continually wept, and Laertius of Menedemus Lampsacus, because he ran like a madman, [1996]saying, he came from hell as a spy, to tell the devils what mortal men did. Your greatest students are commonly no better, silly, soft fellows in their outward behaviour, absurd, ridiculous to others, and no whit experienced in worldly business; they can measure the heavens, range over the world, teach others wisdom, and yet in bargains and contracts they are circumvented by every base tradesman. Are not these men fools? and how should they be otherwise, but as so many sots in schools, when (as [1997]he well observed) they neither hear nor see such things as are commonly practised abroad? how should they get experience, by what means? [1998]I knew in my time many scholars, saith Aeneas Sylvius (in an epistle of his to Gasper Scitick, chancellor to the emperor), excellent well learned, but so rude, so silly, that they had no common civility, nor knew how to manage their domestic or public affairs. Paglarensis was amazed, and said his farmer had surely cozened him, when he heard him tell that his sow had eleven pigs, and his ass had but one foal. To say the best of this profession, I can give no other testimony of them in general, than that of Pliny of Isaeus; [1999]He is yet a scholar, than which kind of men there is nothing so simple, so sincere, none better, they are most part harmless, honest, upright, innocent, plain-dealing men. Now because they are commonly subject to such hazards and inconveniences as dotage, madness, simplicity, &c. Jo. Voschius would have good scholars to be highly rewarded, and had in some extraordinary respect above other men, to have greater [2000]privileges than the rest, that adventure themselves and abbreviate their lives for the public good. But our patrons of learning are so far nowadays from respecting the muses, and giving that honour to scholars, or reward which they deserve, and are allowed by those indulgent privileges of many noble princes, that after all their pains taken in the universities, cost and charge, expenses, irksome hours, laborious tasks, wearisome days, dangers, hazards, (barred interim from all pleasures which other men have, mewed up like hawks all their lives) if they chance to wade through them, they shall in the end be rejected, contemned, and which is their greatest misery, driven to their shifts, exposed to want, poverty, and beggary. Their familiar attendants are, [2001]Pallentes morbi, luctus, curaeque laborque Et metus, et malesuada fames, et turpis egestas, Terribiles visu formae———

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

If there were nothing else to trouble them, the conceit of this alone were enough to make them all melancholy. Most other trades and professions, after some seven years' apprenticeship, are enabled by their craft to live of themselves. A merchant adventures his goods at sea, and though his hazard be great, yet if one ship return of four, he likely makes a saving voyage. An husbandman's gains are almost certain; quibus ipse Jupiter nocere non potest (whom Jove himself can't harm) ('tis [2002]Cato's hyperbole, a great husband himself); only scholars methinks are most uncertain, unrespected, subject to all casualties, and hazards. For first, not one of a many proves to be a scholar, all are not capable and docile, [2003]ex omniligno non fit Mercurius: we can make majors and officers every year, but not scholars: kings can invest knights and barons, as Sigismund the emperor confessed; universities can give degrees; and Tu quod es, e populo quilibet esse potest; but he nor they, nor all the world, can give learning, make philosophers, artists, orators, poets; we can soon say, as Seneca well notes, O virum bonum, o divitem, point at a rich man, a good, a happy man, a prosperous man, sumptuose vestitum, Calamistratum, bene olentem, magno temporis impendio constat haec laudatio, o virum literarum, but 'tis not so easily performed to find out a learned man. Learning is not so quickly got, though they may be willing to take pains, to that end sufficiently informed, and liberally maintained by their patrons and parents, yet few can compass it. Or if they be docile, yet all men's wills are not answerable to their wits, they can apprehend, but will not take pains; they are either seduced by bad companions, vel in puellam impingunt, vel in poculum (they fall in with women or wine) and so spend their time to their friends' grief and their own undoings. Or put case they be studious, industrious, of ripe wits, and perhaps good capacities, then how many diseases of body and mind must they encounter? No labour in the world like unto study. It may be, their temperature will not endure it, but striving to be excellent to know all, they lose health, wealth, wit, life and all. Let him yet happily escape all these hazards, aereis intestinis with a body of brass, and is now consummate and ripe, he hath profited in his studies, and proceeded with all applause: after many expenses, he is fit for preferment, where shall he have it? he is as far to seek it as he was (after twenty years' standing) at the first day of his coming to the University. For what course shall he take, being now capable and ready? The most parable and easy, and about which many are employed, is to teach a school, turn lecturer or curate, and for that he shall have falconer's wages, ten pound per annum, and his diet, or some small stipend, so long as he can please his patron or the parish; if they approve him not (for usually they do but a year or two) as inconstant, as [2004]they that cried Hosanna one day, and Crucify him the other; serving-man-like, he must go look a new master; if they do, what is his reward? [2005]Hoc quoque te manet ut pueros elementa docentem Occupet extremis in vicis alba senectus.

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

Like an ass, he wears out his time for provender, and can show a stump rod, togam tritam et laceram saith [2006]Haedus, an old torn gown, an ensign of his infelicity, he hath his labour for his pain, a modicum to keep him till he be decrepit, and that is all. Grammaticus non est felix, &c. If he be a trencher chaplain in a gentleman's house, as it befell [2007] Euphormio, after some seven years' service, he may perchance have a living to the halves, or some small rectory with the mother of the maids at length, a poor kinswoman, or a cracked chambermaid, to have and to hold during the time of his life. But if he offend his good patron, or displease his lady mistress in the mean time, [2008]Ducetur Planta velut ictus ab Hercule Cacus, Poneturque foras, si quid tentaverit unquam 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? [2017]Vixerunt fortes ante Agamemnona Multi: sed omnes illachrymabiles Urgentur, ignotique longa Nocte, carent quia vate sacro.

Before great Agamemnon reign'd, Reign'd kings as great as he, and brave,

Whose huge ambition's now contain'd In the small compass of a grave:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ever since all their followers are poor, forsaken and left unto themselves. Insomuch, that as [2020]Petronius argues, you shall likely know them by their clothes. There came, saith he, by chance into my company, a fellow not very spruce to look on, that I could perceive by that note alone he was a scholar, whom commonly rich men hate: I asked him what he was, he answered, a poet: I demanded again why he was so ragged, he told me this kind of learning never made any man rich. [2021]Qui Pelago credit, magno se faenore tollit, Qui pugnas et rostra petit, praecingitur auro: Vilis adulator picto jacet ebrius ostro, Sola pruinosis horret facundia pannis.

A merchant's gain is great, that goes to sea; A soldier embossed all in gold;

A flatterer lies fox'd in brave array; A scholar only ragged to behold.

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

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, παν τῶν ἐνδεῖς πλὴν λιμοὺ καὶ φόβου, needy of all things but hunger and fear, or if we be maintained but partly by our parents' cost, do expend in unnecessary maintenance, books and degrees, before we come to any perfection, five hundred pounds, or a thousand marks. If by this price of the expense of time, our bodies and spirits, our substance and patrimonies, we cannot purchase those small rewards, which are ours by law, and the right of inheritance, a poor parsonage, or a vicarage of 50_l._ per annum, but we must pay to the patron for the lease of a life (a spent and out-worn life) either in annual pension, or above the rate of a copyhold, and that with the hazard and loss of our souls, by simony and perjury, and the forfeiture of all our spiritual preferments, in esse and posse, both present and to come. What father after a while will be so improvident to bring up his son to his great charge, to this necessary beggary? What Christian will be so irreligious, to bring up his son in that course of life, which by all probability and necessity, cogit ad turpia, enforcing to sin, will entangle him in simony and perjury, when as the poet said, Invitatus ad haec aliquis de ponte negabit: a beggar's brat taken from the bridge where he sits a begging, if he knew the inconvenience, had cause to refuse it. This being thus, have not we fished fair all this while, that are initiate divines, to find no better fruits of our labours, [2030] hoc est cur palles, cur quis non prandeat hoc est? do we macerate ourselves for this? Is it for this we rise so early all the year long? [2031]Leaping (as he saith) out of our beds, when we hear the bell ring, as if we had heard a thunderclap. If this be all the respect, reward and honour we shall have, [2032]frange leves calamos, et scinde Thalia libellos: let us give over our books, and betake ourselves to some other course of life; to what end should we study? [2033]Quid me litterulas stulti docuere parentes, what did our parents mean to make us scholars, to be as far to seek of preferment after twenty years' study, as we were at first: why do we take such pains? Quid tantum insanis juvat impallescere chartis? If there be no more hope of reward, no better encouragement, I say again, Frange leves calamos, et scinde Thalia libellos; let's turn soldiers, sell our books, and buy swords, guns, and pikes, or stop bottles with them, turn our philosopher's gowns, as Cleanthes once did, into millers' coats, leave all and rather betake ourselves to any other course of life, than to continue longer in this misery. [2034]Praestat dentiscalpia radere, quam literariis monumentis magnatum favorem 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 with rich Crassus, was even as poor when from, (which many wondered at) as when he came first to him; he never asked, the other never gave him anything; when he travelled with Crassus he borrowed a hat of him, at his return restored it again. I have had some such noble friends' acquaintance and scholars, but most part (common courtesies and ordinary respects excepted) they and I parted as we met, they gave me as much as I requested, and that was—And as Alexander ab Alexandro Genial. dier. l. 6. c. 16. made answer to Hieronymus Massainus, that wondered, quum plures ignavos et ignobiles ad dignitates et sacerdotia promotos quotidie videret, when other men rose, still he was in the same state, eodem tenore et fortuna cui mercedem laborum studiorumque deberi putaret, whom he thought to deserve as well as the rest. He made answer, that he was content with his present estate, was not ambitious, and although objurgabundus suam segnitiem accusaret, cum obscurae sortis homines ad sacerdotia et pontificatus evectos, &c., he chid him for his backwardness, yet he was still the same: and for my part (though I be not worthy perhaps to carry Alexander's books) yet by some overweening and well-wishing friends, the like speeches have been used to me; but I replied still with Alexander, that I had enough, and more peradventure than I deserved; and with Libanius Sophista, that rather chose (when honours and offices by the emperor were offered unto him) to be talis Sophista, quam tails Magistratus. I had as lief be still Democritus junior, and privus privatus, si mihi jam daretur optio, quam talis fortasse Doctor, talis Dominus.—Sed quorsum haec? For the rest 'tis on both sides facinus detestandum, to buy and sell livings, to detain from the church, that which God's and men's laws have bestowed on it; but in them most, and that from the covetousness and ignorance of such as are interested in this business; I name covetousness in the first place, as the root of all these mischiefs, which, Achan-like, compels them to commit sacrilege, and to make simoniacal compacts, (and what not) to their own ends, [2038]that kindles God's wrath, brings a plague, vengeance, and a heavy visitation upon themselves and others. Some out of that insatiable desire of filthy lucre, to be enriched, care not how they come by it per fas et nefas, hook or crook, so they have it. And others when they have with riot and prodigality embezzled their estates, to recover themselves, make a prey of the church, robbing it, as [2039]Julian the apostate did, spoil parsons of their revenues (in keeping half back, [2040]as a great man amongst us observes:) and that maintenance on which they should live: by means whereof, barbarism is increased, and a great decay of Christian professors: for who will apply himself to these divine studies, his son, or friend, when after great pains taken, they shall have nothing whereupon to live? But with what event do they these things? [2041]Opesque totis viribus venamini At inde messis accidit miserrima.

They toil and moil, but what reap they? They are commonly unfortunate families that use it, accursed in their progeny, and, as common experience evinceth, accursed themselves in all their proceedings. With what face (as [2042]he quotes out of Aust.) can they expect a blessing or inheritance from Christ in heaven, that defraud Christ of his inheritance here on earth? I would all our simoniacal patrons, and such as detain tithes, would read those judicious tracts of Sir Henry Spelman, and Sir James Sempill, knights; those late elaborate and learned treatises of Dr. Tilslye, and Mr. Montague, which they have written of that subject. But though they should read, it would be to small purpose, clames licet et mare coelo Confundas; thunder, lighten, preach hell and damnation, tell them 'tis a sin, they will not believe it; denounce and terrify, they have [2043]cauterised consciences, they do not attend, as the enchanted adder, they stop their ears. Call them base, irreligious, profane, barbarous, pagans, atheists, epicures, (as some of them surely are) with the bawd in Plautus, Euge, optime, they cry and applaud themselves with that miser, [2044]simul ac nummos contemplor in arca: say what you will, quocunque modo rem: as a dog barks at the moon, to no purpose are your sayings: Take your heaven, let them have money. A base, profane, epicurean, hypocritical rout: for my part, let them pretend what zeal they will, counterfeit religion, blear the world's eyes, bombast themselves, and stuff out their greatness with church spoils, shine like so many peacocks; so cold is my charity, so defective in this behalf, that I shall never think better of them, than that they are rotten at core, their bones are full of epicurean hypocrisy, and atheistical marrow, they are worse than heathens. For as Dionysius Halicarnassaeus observes, Antiq. Rom. lib. 7. [2045]Primum locum, &c. Greeks and Barbarians observe all religious rites, and dare not break them for fear of offending their gods; but our simoniacal contractors, our senseless Achans, our stupefied patrons, fear neither God nor devil, they have evasions for it, it is no sin, or not due jure divino, or if a sin, no great sin, &c. And though they be daily punished for it, and they do manifestly perceive, that as he said, frost and fraud come to foul ends; yet as [2046]Chrysostom follows it Nulla ex poena sit correctio, et quasi adversis malitia hominum provocetur, crescit quotidie quod puniatur: they are rather worse than better,—iram atque animos a crimine sumunt, and the more they are corrected, the more they offend: but let them take their course, [2047]Rode caper vites, go on still as they begin, 'tis no sin, let them rejoice secure, God's vengeance will overtake them in the end, and these ill-gotten goods, as an eagle's feathers, [2048] will consume the rest of their substance; it is [2049]aurum Tholosanum, and will produce no better effects. [2050]Let them lay it up safe, and make their conveyances never so close, lock and shut door, saith Chrysostom, yet fraud and covetousness, two most violent thieves are still included, and a little gain evil gotten will subvert the rest of their goods. The eagle in Aesop, seeing a piece of flesh now ready to be sacrificed, swept it away with her claws, and carried it to her nest; but there was a burning coal stuck to it by chance, which unawares consumed her young ones, nest, and all together. Let our simoniacal church-chopping patrons, and sacrilegious harpies, look for no better success. A second cause is ignorance, and from thence contempt, successit odium in literas ab ignorantia vulgi; which [2051]Junius well perceived: this hatred and contempt of learning proceeds out of [2052]ignorance; as they are themselves barbarous, idiots, dull, illiterate, and proud, so they esteem of others. Sint Mecaenates, non deerunt Flacce Marones: Let there be bountiful patrons, and there will be painful scholars in all sciences. But when they contemn learning, and think themselves sufficiently qualified, if they can write and read, scramble at a piece of evidence, or have so much Latin as that emperor had, [2053]qui nescit dissimulare, nescit vivere, they are unfit to do their country service, to perform or undertake any action or employment, which may tend to the good of a commonwealth, except it be to fight, or to do country justice, with common sense, which every yeoman can likewise do. And so they bring up their children, rude as they are themselves, unqualified, untaught, uncivil most part. [2054]Quis e nostra juventute legitime instituitur literis? Quis oratores aut Philosophos tangit? quis historiam legit, illam rerum agendarum quasi animam? praecipitant parentes vota sua, &c. 'twas Lipsius' complaint to his illiterate countrymen, it may be ours. Now shall these men judge of a scholar's worth, that have no worth, that know not what belongs to a student's labours, that cannot distinguish between a true scholar and a drone? or him that by reason of a voluble tongue, a strong voice, a pleasing tone, and some trivially polyanthean helps, steals and gleans a few notes from other men's harvests, and so makes a fairer show, than he that is truly learned indeed: that thinks it no more to preach, than to speak, [2055]or to run away with an empty cart; as a grave man said: and thereupon vilify us, and our pains; scorn us, and all learning. [2056] Because they are rich, and have other means to live, they think it concerns them not to know, or to trouble themselves with it; a fitter task for younger brothers, or poor men's sons, to be pen and inkhorn men, pedantical slaves, and no whit beseeming the calling of a gentleman, as Frenchmen and Germans commonly do, neglect therefore all human learning, what have they to do with it? Let mariners learn astronomy; merchants, factors study arithmetic; surveyors get them geometry; spectacle-makers optics; land-leapers geography; town-clerks rhetoric, what should he do with a spade, that hath no ground to dig; or they with learning, that have no use of it? thus they reason, and are not ashamed to let mariners, apprentices, and the basest servants, be better qualified than themselves. In former times, kings, princes, and emperors, were the only scholars, excellent in all faculties. Julius Caesar mended the year, and writ his own 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 so by this depression of theirs [2065]some want means, others will, all want [2066]encouragement, as being forsaken almost; and generally contemned. 'Tis an old saying, Sint Mecaenates, non deerunt Flacce Marones, and 'tis a true saying still. Yet oftentimes I may not deny it the main fault is in ourselves. Our academics too frequently offend in neglecting patrons, as [2067]Erasmus well taxeth, or making ill choice of them; negligimus oblatos aut amplectimur parum aptos, or if we get a good one, non studemus mutuis officiis favorem ejus alere, we do not ply and follow him as we should. Idem mihi accidit Adolescenti (saith Erasmus) acknowledging his fault, et gravissime peccavi, and so may [2068]I say myself, I have offended in this, and so peradventure have many others. We did not spondere magnatum favoribus, qui caeperunt nos amplecti, apply ourselves with that readiness we should: idleness, love of liberty, immodicus amor libertatis effecit ut diu cum perfidis amicis, as he confesseth, et pertinaci pauperate colluctarer, bashfulness, melancholy, timorousness, cause many of us to be too backward and remiss. So some offend in one extreme, but too many on the other, we are most part too forward, too solicitous, too ambitious, too impudent; we commonly complain deesse Maecenates, of want of encouragement, want of means, when as the true defect is in our own want of worth, our insufficiency: did Maecenas take notice of Horace or Virgil till they had shown themselves first? or had Bavius and Mevius any patrons? Egregium specimen dent, saith Erasmus, let them approve themselves worthy first, sufficiently qualified for learning and manners, before they presume or impudently intrude and put themselves on great men as too many do, with such base flattery, parasitical colloguing, such hyperbolical elogies they do usually insinuate that it is a shame to hear and see. Immodicae laudes conciliant invidiam, potius quam laudem, and vain commendations derogate from truth, and we think in conclusion, non melius de laudato, pejus de laudante, ill of both, the commender and commended. So we offend, but the main fault is in their harshness, defect of patrons. How beloved of old, and how much respected was Plato to Dionysius? How dear to Alexander was Aristotle, Demeratus to Philip, Solon to Croesus, Auexarcus and Trebatius to Augustus, Cassius to Vespasian, Plutarch to Trajan, Seneca to Nero, Simonides to Hieron? how honoured? [2069]Sed haec prius fuere, nunc recondita Senent quiete,

those days are gone; Et spes, et ratio studiorum in Caesare tantum: [2070] as he said of old, we may truly say now, he is our amulet, our [2071]sun, our sole comfort and refuge, our Ptolemy, our common Maecenas, Jacobus munificus, Jacobus pacificus, mysta Musarum, Rex Platonicus: Grande decus, columenque nostrum: a famous scholar himself, and the sole patron, pillar, and sustainer of learning: but his worth in this kind is so well known, that as Paterculus of Cato, Jam ipsum laudare nefas sit: and which [2072] Pliny to Trajan. Seria te carmina, honorque aeternus annalium, non haec brevis et pudenda praedicatio colet. But he is now gone, the sun of ours set, and yet no night follows, Sol occubuit, nox nulla sequuta est. We have such another in his room, [2073]aureus alter. Avulsus, simili frondescit virga metallo, and long may he reign and flourish amongst us. Let me not be malicious, and lie against my genius, I may not deny, but that we have a sprinkling of our gentry, here and there one, excellently well learned, like those Fuggeri in Germany; Dubartus, Du Plessis, Sadael, in France; Picus Mirandula, Schottus, Barotius, in Italy; Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto. But they are but few in respect of the multitude, the major part (and some again excepted, that are indifferent) are wholly bent for hawks and hounds, and carried away many times with intemperate lust, gaming and drinking. If they read a book at any time (si quod est interim otii a venatu, poculis, alea, scortis) 'tis an English Chronicle, St. Huon of Bordeaux, Amadis de Gaul, &c., a play-book, or some pamphlet of news, and that at such seasons only, when they cannot stir abroad, to drive away time, [2074]their sole discourse is dogs, hawks, horses, and what news? If some one have been a traveller in Italy, or as far as the emperor's court, wintered in Orleans, and can court his mistress in broken French, wear his clothes neatly in the newest fashion, sing some choice outlandish tunes, discourse of lords, ladies, towns, palaces, and cities, he is complete and to be admired: [2075]otherwise he and they are much at one; no difference between the master and the man, but worshipful titles; wink and choose betwixt him that sits down (clothes excepted) and him that holds the trencher behind him: yet these men must be our patrons, our governors too sometimes, statesmen, magistrates, noble, great, and wise by 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 be consecrated to all posterity; but of your rank, there are a debauched, corrupt, covetous, illiterate crew again, no better than stocks, merum pecus (testor Deum, non mihi videri dignos ingenui hominis appellatione) barbarous Thracians, et quis ille thrax qui hoc neget? a sordid, profane, pernicious company, irreligious, impudent and stupid, I know not what epithets to give them, enemies to learning, confounders of the church, and the ruin of a commonwealth; patrons they are by right of inheritance, and put in trust freely to dispose of such livings to the church's good; but (hard taskmasters they prove) they take away their straw, and compel them to make their number of brick: they commonly respect their own ends, commodity is the steer of all their actions, and him they present in conclusion, as a man of greatest gifts, that will give most; no penny, [2077]no paternoster, as the saying is. Nisi preces auro fulcias, amplius irritas: ut Cerberus offa, their attendants and officers must be bribed, feed, and made, as Cerberus is with a sop by him that goes to hell. It was an old saying, Omnia Romae venalia (all things are venal at Rome,) 'tis a rag of Popery, which will never be rooted out, there is no hope, no good to be done without money. A clerk may offer himself, approve his [2078]worth, learning, honesty, religion, zeal, they will commend him for it; but [2079]probitas laudatur et alget. If he be a man of extraordinary parts, they will flock afar off to hear him, as they did in Apuleius, to see Psyche: multi mortales confluebant ad videndum saeculi decus, speculum gloriosum, laudatur ab omnibus, spectatur ob omnibus, nec quisquam non rex, non regius, cupidus ejus nuptiarium petitor accedit; mirantur quidem divinam formam omnes, sed ut simulacrum fabre politum mirantur; many mortal men came to see fair Psyche the glory of her age, they did admire her, commend, desire her for her divine beauty, and gaze upon her; but as on a picture; none would marry her, quod indotato, fair Psyche had no money. [2080]So they do by learning; [2081]———didicit jam dives avarus Tantum admirari, tantum laudare disertos, Ut pueri Junonis avem———

Your rich men have now learn'd of latter days T'admire, commend, and come together

To hear and see a worthy scholar speak, As children do a peacock's feather.

He shall have all the good words that may be given, [2082]a proper man, and 'tis pity he hath no preferment, all good wishes, but inexorable, indurate as he is, he will not prefer him, though it be in his power, because he is indotatus, he hath no money. Or if he do give him entertainment, let him be never so well qualified, plead affinity, consanguinity, sufficiency, he shall serve seven years, as Jacob did for Rachel, before he shall have it. [2083]If he will enter at first, he must get in at that Simoniacal gate, come off soundly, and put in good security to perform all covenants, else he will not deal with, or admit him. But if some poor scholar, some parson chaff, will offer himself; some trencher chaplain, that will take it to the halves, thirds, or accepts of what he will give, he is welcome; be conformable, preach as he will have him, he likes him before a million of others; for the host is always best cheap: and then as Hierom said to Cromatius, patella dignum operculum, such a patron, such a clerk; the cure is well supplied, and all parties pleased. So that is still verified in our age, which [2084]Chrysostom complained of in his time, Qui opulentiores sunt, in ordinem parasitorum cogunt eos, et ipsos tanquam canes ad mensas suas enutriunt, eorumque impudentes. Venires iniquarum coenarum reliquiis differtiunt, iisdem pro arbitro abulentes: Rich men keep these lecturers, and fawning parasites, like so many dogs at their tables, and filling their hungry guts with the offals of their meat, they abuse them at their pleasure, and make them say what they propose. [2085]As children do by a bird or a butterfly in a string, pull in and let him out as they list, do they by their trencher chaplains, prescribe, command their wits, let in and out as to them it seems best. If the patron be precise, so must his chaplain be; if he be papistical, his clerk must be so too, or else be turned out. These are those clerks which serve the turn, whom they commonly entertain, and present to church livings, whilst in the meantime we that are University men, like so many hidebound calves in a pasture, tarry out our time, wither away as a flower ungathered in a garden, and are never used; or as so many candles, illuminate ourselves alone, obscuring one another's light, and are not discerned here at all, the least of which, translated to a dark room, or to some country benefice, where it might shine apart, would give a fair light, and be seen over all. Whilst we lie waiting here as those sick men did at the Pool of [2086] Bethesda, till the Angel stirred the water, expecting a good hour, they step between, and beguile us of our preferment. I have not yet said, if after long expectation, much expense, travel, earnest suit of ourselves and friends, we obtain a small benefice at last; our misery begins afresh, we are suddenly encountered with the flesh, world, and devil, with a new onset; we change a quiet life for an ocean of troubles, we come to a ruinous house, which before it be habitable, must be necessarily to our great damage repaired; we are compelled to sue for dilapidations, or else sued ourselves, and scarce yet settled, we are called upon for our predecessor's arrearages; first-fruits, tenths, subsidies, are instantly to be paid, benevolence, procurations, &c., and which is most to be feared, we light upon a cracked title, as it befell Clenard of Brabant, for his rectory, and charge of his Beginae; he was no sooner inducted, but instantly sued, cepimusque [2087](saith he) strenue litigare, et implacabili bello confligere: at length after ten years' suit, as long as Troy's siege, when he had tired himself, and spent his money, he was fain to leave all for quietness' sake, and give it up to his adversary. Or else we are insulted over, and trampled on by domineering officers, fleeced by those greedy harpies to get more fees; we stand in fear of some precedent lapse; we fall amongst refractory, seditious sectaries, peevish puritans, perverse papists, a lascivious rout of atheistical Epicures, that will not be reformed, or some litigious people (those wild beasts of Ephesus must be fought with) that will not pay their dues without much repining, or compelled by long suit; Laici clericis oppido infesti, an old axiom, all they think well gotten that is had from the church, and by such uncivil, harsh dealings, they make their poor minister weary of his place, if not his life; and put case they be quiet honest men, make the best of it, as often it falls out, from a polite and terse academic, he must turn rustic, rude, melancholise alone, learn to forget, or else, as many do, become maltsters, graziers, chapmen, &c. (now banished from the academy, all commerce of the muses, and confined to a country village, as Ovid was from Rome to Pontus), and daily converse with a company of idiots and clowns. Nos interim quod, attinet (nec enim immunes ab hac noxa sumus) idem realus manet, idem nobis, et si non multo gravius, crimen objici potest: nostra enim culpa sit, nostra incuria, nostra avaritia, quod tam frequentes, foedaeque fiant in Ecclesia nundinationes, (templum est vaenale, deusque) tot sordes invehantur, tanta grassetur impietas, tanta nequitia, tam insanus miseriarum Euripus, et turbarum aestuarium, nostro inquam, omnium (Academicorum imprimis) vitio sit. Quod tot Resp. malis afficiatur, a nobis seminarium; ultro malum hoc accersimus, et quavis contumelia, quavis interim miseria digni, qui pro virili non occurrimus. Quid enim fieri posse speramus, quum tot indies sine delectu pauperes alumni, terrae filii, et cujuscunque ordinis homunciones ad gradus certatim admittantur? qui si definitionem, distinctionemque unam aut alteram memoriter edidicerint, et pro more tot annos in dialectica posuerint, non refert quo profectu, quales demum sint, idiotae, nugatores, otiatores, aleatores, compotores, indigni, libidinis voluptatumque administri, Sponsi Penelopes, nebulones, Alcinoique, modo tot annos in academia insumpserint, et se pro togatis venditarint; lucri causa, et amicorum intercessu praesentantur; addo etiam et magnificis nonnunquam elogiis morum et scientiae; et jam valedicturi testimonialibus hisce litteris, amplissime conscriptis in eorum gratiam honorantur, abiis, qui fidei suae et existimationis jacturam proculdubio faciunt. Doctores enim et professores (quod ait [2088]ille) id unum curant, ut ex professionibus frequentibus, et tumultuariis potius quam legitimis, commoda sua promoverant, et ex dispendio publico suum faciant incrementum. Id solum in votis habent annui plerumque magistratus, ut ab incipientium numero [2089]pecunias emungant, nec multum interest qui sint, literatores an literati, modo pingues, nitidi, ad aspectum speciosi, et quod verbo dicam, pecuniosi sint. [2090]Philosophastri licentiantur in artibus, artem qui non habent, [2091]Eosque sapientes esse jubent, qui nulla praediti sunt sapientia, et nihil ad gradum praeterquam velle adferunt. Theologastri (solvant modo) satis superque docti, per omnes honorum gradus evehuntur et ascendunt. Atque hinc fit quod tam viles scurrae, tot passim idiotae, literarum crepusculo positi, larvae pastorum, circumforanei, vagi, barbi, fungi, crassi, asini, merum pecus in sacrosanctos theologiae aditus, illotis pedibus irrumpant, praeter inverecundam frontem adferentes nihil, vulgares quasdam quisquilias, et scholarium quaedam nugamenta, indigna quae vel recipiantur in triviis. Hoc illud indignum genus hominum et famelicum, indigum, vagum, ventris mancipium, ad stivam potius relegandum, ad haras aptius quam ad aras, quod divinas hasce literas turpiter prostituit; hi sunt qui pulpita complent, in aedes nobilium irrepunt, et quum reliquis vitae destituantur subsidiis, ob corporis et animi egestatem, aliarum in repub. partium minime capaces sint; ad sacram hanc anchoram confugiunt, sacerdotium quovis modo captantes, non ex sinceritate, quod [2092]Paulus ait, sed cauponantes verbum Dei. Ne quis interim viris bonis detractum quid putet, quos habet ecclesia Anglicana quamplurimos, eggregie doctos, illustres, intactae famae, homines, et plures forsan quam quaevis Europae provincia; ne quis a florentisimis Academiis, quae viros undiquaque doctissimos, omni virtutum genere suspiciendos, abunde producunt. Et multo plures utraque habitura, multo splendidior futura, si non hae sordes splendidum lumen ejus obfuscarent, obstaret corruptio, et cauponantes quaedam harpyae, proletariique bonum hoc nobis non inviderent. Nemo enim tam caeca mente, qui non hoc ipsum videat: nemo tam stolido ingenio, qui non intelligat; tam pertinaci judicio, qui non agnoscat, ab his idiotis circumforaneis, sacram pollui Theologiam, ac caelestes Musas quasi prophanum quiddam prostitui. Viles animae et effrontes (sic enim Lutherus [2093] alicubi vocat) lucelli causa, ut muscae ad mulctra, ad nobilium et heroum mensas advolant, in spem sacerdotii, cujuslibet honoris, officii, in quamvis aulam, urbem se ingerunt, ad quodvis se ministerium componunt.— Ut nervis alienis mobile lignum—Ducitur—Hor. Lib. II. Sat. 7. [2094] offam sequentes, psittacorum more, in praedae spem quidvis effutiunt: obsecundantes Parasiti [2095](Erasmus ait) quidvis docent, dicunt, scribunt, suadent, et contra conscientiam probant, non ut salutarem reddant gregem, sed ut magnificam sibi parent fortunam. [2096]Opiniones quasvis et decreta contra verbum Dei astruunt, ne non offendant patronum, sed ut retineant favorem procerum, et populi plausum, sibique ipsis opes accumulent. Eo etenim plerunque animo ad Theologiam accedunt, non ut rem divinam, sed ut suam facient; non ad Ecclesiae bonum promovendum, sed expilandum; quaerentes, quod Paulus ait, non quae Jesu Christi, sed quae sua, non domini thesaurum, sed ut sibi, suisque thesaurizent. Nec tantum iis, qui vilirrie fortunae, et abjectae, sortis sunt, hoc in usu est: sed et medios, summos elatos, ne dicam Episcopos, hoc malum invasit. [2097] Dicite pontifices, in sacris quid facit aurum? [2098]summos saepe viros transversos agit avaritia, et qui reliquis morum probitate praelucerent; hi facem praeferunt ad Simoniam, et in corruptionis hunc scopulum impingentes, non tondent pecus, sed deglubunt, et quocunque se conferunt, expilant, exhauriunt, abradunt, magnum famae suae, si non animae naufragium facientes; ut non ab infimis ad summos, sed a summis ad infimos malum promanasse videatur, et illud verum sit quod ille olim lusit, emerat ille prius, vendere jure potest. Simoniacus enim (quod cum Leone dicam) gratiam non accepit, si non accipit, non habet, et si non habet, nec gratus potest esse; tantum enim absunt istorum nonnulli, qui ad clavum sedent a promovendo reliquos, ut penitus impediant, probe sibi conscii, quibus artibus illic pervenerint. [2099]Nam qui ob literas emersisse illos credat, desipit; qui vero ingenii, eruditionis, experientiae, probitatis, pietatis, et Musarum id esse pretium putat (quod olim revera fuit, hodie promittitur) planissime insanit. Utcunque vel undecunque malum hoc originem ducat, non ultra quaeram, ex his primordiis caepit vitiorum colluvies, omnis calamitas, omne miseriarum agmen in Ecclesiam invehitur. Hinc tam frequens simonia, hinc ortae querelae, fraudes, imposturae, ab hoc fonte se derivarunt omnes nequitiae. Ne quid obiter dicam de ambitione, adulatione plusquam aulica, ne tristi domicaenio laborent, de luxu, de foedo nonnunquam vitae exemplo, quo nonnullos offendunt, de compotatione Sybaritica, &c. hinc ille squalor academicus, tristes hac tempestate Camenae, quum quivis homunculus artium ignarus, hic artibus assurgat, hunc in modum promoveatur et ditescat, ambitiosis appellationibus insignis, et multis dignitatibus augustus vulgi oculos perstringat, bene se habeat, et grandia gradiens majestatem quandam ac amplitudinem prae se ferens, miramque sollicitudinem, barba reverendus, toga nitidus, purpura coruscus, supellectilis splendore, et famulorum numero maxime conspicuus. Quales statuae (quod ait [2100]ille) quae sacris in aedibus columnis imponuntur, velut oneri cedentes videntur, ac si insudarent, quum revera sensu sint carentes, et nihil saxeam adjuvent firmitatem: atlantes videri volunt, quum sint statuae lapideae, umbratiles revera homunciones, fungi, forsan et bardi, nihil a saxo differentes. Quum interim docti viri, et vilae sanctioris ornamentis praediti, qui aestum diei sustinent, his iniqua sorte serviant, minimo forsan salario contenti, puris nominibus nuncupati, humiles, obscuri, multoque digniores licet, egentes, inhonorati vitam privam privatam agant, tenuique sepulti sacerdotio, vel in collegiis suis in aeternum incarcerati, inglorie delitescant. Sed nolo diutius hanc movere sentinam, hinc illae lachrymae, lugubris musarum habitus, [2101]hinc ipsa religio (quod cum Secellio dicam) in ludibrium et contemptum adducitur, abjectum sacerdotium (atque haec ubi fiunt, ausim dicere, et pulidum [2102] putidi dicterium de clero usurpare) putidum vulgus, inops, rude, sordidum, melancholicum, miserum, despicabile, contemnendum.[2103]

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 suck upon his wife's breast, because by that means they would love him and his the better, and in all likelihood agree with them. A more evident example that the minds are altered by milk cannot be given, than that of [2112]Dion, which he relates of Caligula's cruelty; it could neither be imputed to father nor mother, but to his cruel nurse alone, that anointed her paps with blood still when he sucked, which made him such a murderer, and to express her cruelty to a hair: and that of Tiberius, who was a common drunkard, because his nurse was such a one. Et si delira fuerit ([2113]one observes) infantulum delirum faciet, if she be a fool or dolt, the child she nurseth will take after her, or otherwise be misaffected; which Franciscus Barbarus l. 2. c. ult. de re uxoria proves at full, and Ant. Guivarra, lib. 2. de Marco Aurelio: the child will surely participate. For bodily sickness there is no doubt to be made. Titus, Vespasian's son, was therefore sickly, because the nurse was so, Lampridius. And if we may believe physicians, many times children catch the pox from a bad nurse, Botaldus cap. 61. de lue vener. Besides evil attendance, negligence, and many gross inconveniences, which are incident to nurses, much danger may so come to the child. [2114]For these causes Aristotle Polit. lib. 7. c. 17. Phavorinus and Marcus Aurelius would not have a child put to nurse at all, but every mother to bring up her own, of what condition soever she be; for a sound and able mother to put out her child to nurse, is naturae intemperies, so [2115]Guatso calls it, 'tis fit therefore she should be nurse herself; the mother will be more careful, loving, and attendant, than any servile woman, or such hired creatures; this all the world acknowledgeth, convenientissimum est (as Rod. a Castro de nat. mulierum. lib. 4. c. 12. in many words confesseth) matrem ipsam lactare infantem, It is most fit that the mother should suckle her own infant—who denies that it should be so?—and which some women most curiously observe; amongst the rest, [2116]that queen of France, a Spaniard by birth, that was so precise and zealous in this behalf, that when in her absence a strange nurse had suckled her child, she was never quiet till she had made the infant vomit it up again. But she was too jealous. If it be so, as many times it is, they must be put forth, the mother be not fit or well able to be a nurse, I would then advise such mothers, as [2117]Plutarch doth in his book de liberis educandis and [2118]S. Hierom, li. 2. epist. 27. Laetae de institut. fil. Magninus part 2. Reg. sanit. cap. 7. and the said Rodericus, that they make choice of a sound woman, of a good complexion, honest, free from bodily diseases, if it be possible, all passions and perturbations of the mind, as sorrow, fear, grief, [2119]folly, melancholy. For such passions corrupt the milk, and alter the temperature of the child, which now being [2120] Udum et molle lutum, a moist and soft clay, is easily seasoned and perverted. And if such a nurse may be found out, that will be diligent and careful withal, let Phavorinus and M. Aurelius plead how they can against it, I had rather accept of her in some cases than the mother herself, and which Bonacialus the physician, Nic. Biesius the politician, lib. 4. de repub. cap. 8. approves, [2121]Some nurses are much to be preferred to some mothers. For why may not the mother be naught, a peevish drunken flirt, a waspish choleric slut, a crazed piece, a fool (as many mothers are), unsound as soon as the nurse? There is more choice of nurses than mothers; and therefore except the mother be most virtuous, staid, a woman of excellent good parts, and of a sound complexion, I would have all children in such cases committed to discreet strangers. And 'tis the only way; as by marriage they are engrafted to other families to alter the breed, or if anything be amiss in the mother, as Ludovicus Mercatus contends, Tom. 2. lib. de morb. haered. to prevent diseases and future maladies, to correct and qualify the child's ill-disposed temperature, which he had from his parents. This is an excellent remedy, if good choice be made of such a nurse.

SUBSECT. II.—Education a Cause of Melancholy.

Education, of these accidental causes of melancholy, may justly challenge the next place, for if a man escape a bad nurse, he may be undone by evil bringing up. [2122]Jason Pratensis puts this of education for a principal cause; bad parents, stepmothers, tutors, masters, teachers, too rigorous, too severe, too remiss or indulgent on the other side, are often fountains and furtherers of this disease. Parents and such as have the tuition and oversight of children, offend many times in that they are too stern, always threatening, chiding, brawling, whipping, or striking; by means of which their poor children are so disheartened and cowed, that they never after have any courage, a merry hour in their lives, or take pleasure in anything. There is a great moderation to be had in such things, as matters of so great moment to the making or marring of a child. Some fright their children with beggars, bugbears, and hobgoblins, if they cry, or be otherwise unruly: but they are much to blame in it, many times, saith Lavater, de spectris, part. 1, cap. 5. ex metu in morbos graves incidunt et noctu dormientes clamant, for fear they fall into many diseases, and cry out in their sleep, and are much the worse for it all their lives: these things ought not at all, or to be sparingly done, and upon just occasion. Tyrannical, impatient, hair-brain schoolmasters, aridi magistri, so [2123]Fabius terms them, Ajaces flagelliferi, are in this kind as bad as hangmen and executioners, they make many children endure a martyrdom all the while they are at school, with bad diet, if they board in their houses, too much severity and ill-usage, they quite pervert their temperature of body and mind: still chiding, railing, frowning, lashing, tasking, keeping, that they are fracti animis, moped many times, weary of their lives, [2124]nimia severitate deficiunt et desperant, and think no slavery in the world (as once I did myself) like to that of a grammar scholar. Praeceptorum ineptiis discruciantur ingenia puerorum, [2125] saith Erasmus, they tremble at his voice, looks, coming in. St. Austin, in the first book of his confess. et 4 ca. calls this schooling meliculosam necessitatem, and elsewhere a martyrdom, and confesseth of himself, how cruelly he was tortured in mind for learning Greek, nulla verba noveram, et saevis terroribus et poenis, ut nossem, instabatur mihi vehementer, I know nothing, and with cruel terrors and punishment I was daily compelled. [2126]Beza complains in like case of a rigorous schoolmaster in Paris, that made him by his continual thunder and threats once in a mind to drown himself, had he not met by the way with an uncle of his that vindicated him from that misery for the time, by taking him to his house. Trincavellius, lib. 1. consil. 16. had a patient nineteen years of age, extremely melancholy, ob nimium studium, Tarvitii et praeceptoris minas, by reason of overmuch study, and his [2127]tutor's threats. Many masters are hard-hearted, and bitter to their servants, and by that means do so deject, with terrible speeches and hard usage so crucify them, that they become desperate, and can never be recalled. Others again, in that opposite extreme, do as great harm by their too much remissness, they give them no bringing up, no calling to busy themselves about, or to live in, teach them no trade, or set them in any good course; by means of which their servants, children, scholars, are carried away with that stream of drunkenness, idleness, gaming, and many such irregular courses, that in the end they rue it, curse their parents, and mischief themselves. Too much indulgence causeth the like, [2128]inepta patris lenitas et facilitas prava, when as Mitio-like, with too much liberty and too great allowance, they feed their children's humours, let them revel, wench, riot, swagger, and do what they will themselves, and then punish them with a noise of musicians; [2129]Obsonet, potet, oleat unguenta de meo; Amat? dabitur a me argentum ubi erit commodum. Fores effregit? restituentur: descidit Vestem? resarcietur.—Faciat quod lubet, Sumat, consumat, perdat, decretum est pati.

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

SUBSECT. III.—Terrors and Affrights, Causes of Melancholy.

Tully, in the fourth of his Tusculans, distinguishes these terrors which arise from the apprehension of some terrible object heard or seen, from other fears, and so doth Patritius lib. 5. Tit. 4. de regis institut. Of all fears they are most pernicious and violent, and so suddenly alter the whole temperature of the body, move the soul and spirits, strike such a deep impression, that the parties can never be recovered, causing more grievous and fiercer melancholy, as Felix Plater, c. 3. de mentis alienat. [2136]speaks out of his experience, than any inward cause whatsoever: and imprints itself so forcibly in the spirits, brain, humours, that if all the mass of blood were let out of the body, it could hardly be extracted. This horrible kind of melancholy (for so he terms it) had been often brought before him, and troubles and affrights commonly men and women, young and old of all sorts. [2137]Hercules de Saxonia calls this kind of melancholy (ab agitatione spirituum) by a peculiar name, it comes from the agitation, motion, contraction, dilatation of spirits, not from any distemperature of humours, and produceth strong effects. This terror is most usually caused, as [2138]Plutarch will have, from some imminent danger, when a terrible object is at hand, heard, seen, or conceived, [2139]truly appearing, or in a [2140]dream: and many times the more sudden the accident, it is the more violent. [2141]Stat terror animis, et cor attonitum salit, Pavidumque trepidis palpitat venis jecur.

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

Arthemedorus the grammarian lost his wits by the unexpected sight of a crocodile, Laurentius 7. de melan. [2142]The massacre at Lyons, 1572, in the reign of Charles IX., was so terrible and fearful, that many ran mad, some died, great-bellied women were brought to bed before their time, generally all affrighted aghast. Many lose their wits [2143]by the sudden sight of some spectrum or devil, a thing very common in all ages, saith Lavater part 1. cap. 9. as Orestes did at the sight of the Furies, which appeared to him in black (as [2144]Pausanias records). The Greeks call them μορμολύχεια, which so terrify their souls, or if they be but affrighted by some counterfeit devils in jest, [2145]———ut pueri trepidant, atque omnia caecis In tenebris metuunt———

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

SUBSECT. IV.—Scoffs, Calumnies, bitter Jests, how they cause Melancholy.

It is an old saying, [2161]A blow with a word strikes deeper than a blow with a sword: and many men are as much galled with a calumny, a scurrilous and bitter jest, a libel, a pasquil, satire, apologue, epigram, stage-play or the like, as with any misfortune whatsoever. Princes and potentates, that are otherwise happy, and have all at command, secure and free, quibus potentia sceleris impunitatem fecit, are grievously vexed with these pasquilling libels, and satires: they fear a railing [2162]Aretine, more than an enemy in the field, which made most princes of his time (as some relate) allow him a liberal pension, that he should not tax them in his satires. [2163]The Gods had their Momus, Homer his Zoilus, Achilles his Thersites, Philip his Demades: the Caesars themselves in Rome were commonly taunted. There was never wanting a Petronius, a Lucian in those times, nor will be a Rabelais, an Euphormio, a Boccalinus in ours. Adrian the sixth pope [2164]was so highly offended, and grievously vexed with pasquillers at Rome, he gave command that his statue should be demolished and burned, the ashes flung into the river Tiber, and had done it forthwith, had not Ludovicus Suessanus, a facete companion, dissuaded him to the contrary, by telling him, that pasquil's ashes would turn to frogs in the bottom of the river, and croak worse and louder than before,—genus irritabile vatum, and therefore [2165]Socrates in Plato adviseth all his friends, that respect their credits, to stand in awe of poets, for they are terrible fellows, can praise and dispraise as they see cause. Hinc quam sit calamus saevior ense patet. The prophet David complains, Psalm cxxiii. 4. that his soul was full of the mocking of the wealthy, and of the despitefulness of the proud, and Psalm lv. 4. for the voice of the wicked, &c., and their hate: his heart trembled within him, and the terrors of death came upon him; fear and horrible fear, &c., and Psal. lxix. 20. Rebuke hath broken my heart, and I am full of heaviness. Who hath not like cause to complain, and is not so troubled, that shall fall into the mouths of such men? for many are of so [2166]petulant a spleen; and have that figure Sarcasmus so often in their mouths, so bitter, so foolish, as [2167]Balthazar Castilio notes of them, that they cannot speak, but they must bite; they had rather lose a friend than a jest; and what company soever they come in, they will be scoffing, insulting over their inferiors, especially over such as any way depend upon them, humouring, misusing, or putting gulleries on some or other till they have made by their humouring or gulling [2168]ex stulto insanum, a mope or a noddy, and all to make themselves merry: [2169]———dummodo risum Excutiat sibi; non hic cuiquam parcit amico;

Friends, neuters, enemies, all are as one, to make a fool a madman, is their sport, and they have no greater felicity than to scoff and deride others; they must sacrifice to the god of laughter, with them in [2170] Apuleius, once a day, or else they shall be melancholy themselves; they care not how they grind and misuse others, so they may exhilarate their own persons. Their wits indeed serve them to that sole purpose, to make sport, to break a scurrile jest, which is levissimus ingenii fructus, the froth of wit, as [2171]Tully holds, and for this they are often applauded, in all other discourse, dry, barren, stramineous, dull and heavy, here lies their genius, in this they alone excel, please themselves and others. Leo Decimus, that scoffing pope, as Jovius hath registered in the Fourth book of his life, took an extraordinary delight in humouring of silly fellows, and to put gulleries upon them, [2172]by commending some, persuading others to this or that: he made ex stolidis stultissimos, et maxime ridiculos, ex stultis insanos; soft fellows, stark noddies; and such as were foolish, quite mad before he left them. One memorable example he recites there, of Tarascomus of Parma, a musician that was so humoured by Leo Decimus, and Bibiena his second in this business, that he thought himself to be a man of most excellent skill, (who was indeed a ninny) they [2173]made him set foolish songs, and invent new ridiculous precepts, which they did highly commend, as to tie his arm that played on the lute, to make him strike a sweeter stroke, [2174]and to pull down the arras hangings, because the voice would be clearer, by reason of the reverberation of the wall. In the like manner they persuaded one Baraballius of Caieta, that he was as good a poet as Petrarch; would have him to be made a laureate poet, and invite all his friends to his instalment; and had so possessed the poor man with a conceit of his excellent poetry, that when some of his more discreet friends told him of his folly, he was very angry with them, and said [2175]they envied his honour, and prosperity: it was strange (saith Jovius) to see an old man of 60 years, a venerable and grave old man, so gulled. But what cannot such scoffers do, especially if they find a soft creature, on whom they may work? nay, to say truth, who is so wise, or so discreet, that may not be humoured in this kind, especially if some excellent wits shall set upon him; he that mads others, if he were so humoured, would be as mad himself, as much grieved and tormented; he might cry with him in the comedy, Proh Jupiter tu homo me, adigas ad insaniam. For all is in these things as they are taken; if he be a silly soul, and do not perceive it, 'tis well, he may haply make others sport, and be no whit troubled himself; but if he be apprehensive of his folly, and take it to heart, then it torments him worse than any lash: a bitter jest, a slander, a calumny, pierceth deeper than any loss, danger, bodily pain, or injury whatsoever; leviter enim volat, (it flies swiftly) as Bernard of an arrow, sed graviter vulnerat, (but wounds deeply), especially if it shall proceed from a virulent tongue, it cuts (saith David) like a two-edged sword. They shoot bitter words as arrows, Psal. lxiv. 5. And they smote with their tongues, Jer. xviii. 18, and that so hard, that they leave an incurable wound behind them. Many men are undone by this means, moped, and so dejected, that they are never to be recovered; and of all other men living, those which are actually melancholy, or inclined to it, are most sensible, (as being suspicious, choleric, apt to mistake) and impatient of an injury in that kind: they aggravate, and so meditate continually of it, that it is a perpetual corrosive, not to be removed, till time wear it out. Although they peradventure that so scoff, do it alone in mirth and merriment, and hold it optimum aliena frui insania, an excellent thing to enjoy another man's madness; yet they must know, that it is a mortal sin (as [2176]Thomas holds) and as the prophet [2177]David denounceth, they that use it, shall never dwell in God's tabernacle. Such scurrilous jests, flouts, and sarcasms, therefore, ought not at all to be used; especially to our betters, to those that are in misery, or any way distressed: for to such, aerumnarum incrementa sunt, they multiply grief, and as [2178]he perceived, In multis pudor, in multis iracundia, &c., many are ashamed, many vexed, angered, and there is no greater cause or furtherer of melancholy. Martin Cromerus, in the Sixth book of his history, hath a pretty story to this purpose, of Vladislaus, the second king of Poland, and Peter Dunnius, earl of Shrine; they had been hunting late, and were enforced to lodge in a poor cottage. When they went to bed, Vladislaus told the earl in jest, that his wife lay softer with the abbot of Shrine; he not able to contain, replied, Et tua cum Dabesso, and yours with Dabessus, a gallant young gentleman in the court, whom Christina the queen loved. Tetigit id dictum Principis animum, these words of his so galled the prince, that he was long after tristis et cogitabundus, very sad and melancholy for many months; but they were the earl's utter undoing: for when Christina heard of it, she persecuted him to death. Sophia the empress, Justinian's wife, broke a bitter jest upon Narsetes the eunuch, a famous captain then disquieted for an overthrow which he lately had: that he was fitter for a distaff and to keep women company, than to wield a sword, or to be general of an army: but it cost her dear, for he so far distasted it, that he went forthwith to the adverse part, much troubled in his thoughts, caused the Lombards to rebel, and thence procured many miseries to the commonwealth. Tiberius the emperor withheld a legacy from the people of Rome, which his predecessor Augustus had lately given, and perceiving a fellow round a dead corse in the ear, would needs know wherefore he did so; the fellow replied, that he wished the departed soul to signify to Augustus, the commons of Rome were yet unpaid: for this bitter jest the emperor caused him forthwith to be slain, and carry the news himself. For this reason, all those that otherwise approve of jests in some cases, and facete companions, (as who doth not?) let them laugh and be merry, rumpantur et illa Codro, 'tis laudable and fit, those yet will by no means admit them in their companies, that are any way inclined to this malady: non jocandum cum iis qui miseri sunt, et aerumnosi, no jesting with a discontented person. 'Tis Castilio's caveat, [2179]Jo. Pontanus, and [2180]Galateus, and every good man's. Play with me, but hurt me not: Jest with me, but shame me not.

Comitas is a virtue between rusticity and scurrility, two extremes, as affability is between flattery and contention, it must not exceed; but be still accompanied with that [2181]ἀβλάβεια 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 si sua norint: yet they loathe it, and are tired with the present: Est natura hominum novitatis avida; men's nature is still desirous of news, variety, delights; and our wandering affections are so irregular in this kind, that they must change, though it must be to the worst. Bachelors must be married, and married men would be bachelors; they do not love their own wives, though otherwise fair, wise, virtuous, and well qualified, because they are theirs; our present estate is still the worst, we cannot endure one course of life long, et quod modo voverat, odit, one calling long, esse in honore juvat, mox displicet; one place long, [2189]Romae Tibur amo, ventosus Tybure Romam, that which we earnestly sought, we now contemn. Hoc quosdam agit ad mortem, (saith [2190]Seneca) quod proposita saepe mutando in eadem revolvuntur, et non relinquunt novitati locum: Fastidio caepit esse vita, et ipsus mundus, et subit illud rapidissimarum deliciarum, Quousque eadem? this alone kills many a man, that they are tied to the same still, as a horse in a mill, a dog in a wheel, they run round, without alteration or news, their life groweth odious, the world loathsome, and that which crosseth their furious delights, what? still the same? Marcus Aurelius and Solomon, that had experience of all worldly delights and pleasure, confessed as much of themselves; what they most desired, was tedious at last, and that their lust could never be satisfied, all was vanity and affliction of mind. Now if it be death itself, another hell, to be glutted with one kind of sport, dieted with one dish, tied to one place; though they have all things otherwise as they can desire, and are in heaven to another man's opinion, what misery and discontent shall they have, that live in slavery, or in prison itself? Quod tristius morte, in servitute vivendum, as Hermolaus told Alexander in [2191]Curtius, worse than death is bondage: [2192]hoc animo scito omnes fortes, ut mortem servituti anteponant, All brave men at arms (Tully holds) are so affected. [2193]Equidem ego is sum, qui servitutem extremum omnium malorum esse arbitror: I am he (saith Boterus) that account servitude the extremity of misery. And what calamity do they endure, that live with those hard taskmasters, in gold mines (like those 30,000 [2194]Indian slaves at Potosi, in Peru), tin-mines, lead-mines, stone-quarries, coal-pits, like so many mouldwarps under ground, condemned to the galleys, to perpetual drudgery, hunger, thirst, and stripes, without all hope of delivery? How are those women in Turkey affected, that most part of the year come not abroad; those Italian and Spanish dames, that are mewed up like hawks, and locked up by their jealous husbands? how tedious is it to them that live in stoves and caves half a year together? as in Iceland, Muscovy, or under the [2195]pole itself, where they have six months' perpetual night. Nay, what misery and discontent do they endure, that are in prison? They want all those six non-natural things at once, good air, good diet, exercise, company, sleep, rest, ease, &c., that are bound in chains all day long, suffer hunger, and (as [2196]Lucian describes it) must abide that filthy stink, and rattling of chains, howlings, pitiful outcries, that prisoners usually make; these things are not only troublesome, but intolerable. They lie nastily among toads and frogs in a dark dungeon, in their own dung, in pain of body, in pain of soul, as Joseph did, Psal. cv. 18, they hurt his feet in the stocks, the iron entered his soul. They live solitary, alone, sequestered from all company but heart-eating melancholy; and for want of meat, must eat that bread of affliction, prey upon themselves. Well might [2197]Arculanus put long imprisonment for a cause, especially to such as have lived jovially, in all sensuality and lust, upon a sudden are estranged and debarred from all manner of pleasures: as were Huniades, Edward, and Richard II., Valerian the Emperor, Bajazet the Turk. If it be irksome to miss our ordinary companions and repast for once a day, or an hour, what shall it be to lose them for ever? If it be so great a delight to live at liberty, and to enjoy that variety of objects the world affords; what misery and discontent must it needs bring to him, that shall now be cast headlong into that Spanish inquisition, to fall from heaven to hell, to be cubbed up upon a sudden, how shall he be perplexed, what shall become of him? [2198] Robert Duke of Normandy being imprisoned by his youngest brother Henry I., ab illo die inconsolabili dolore in carcere contabuit, saith Matthew Paris, from that day forward pined away with grief. [2199]Jugurtha that generous captain, brought to Rome in triumph, and after imprisoned, through anguish of his soul, and melancholy, died. [2200]Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, the second man from King Stephen (he that built that famous castle of [2201]Devizes in Wiltshire,) was so tortured in prison with hunger, and all those calamities accompanying such men, [2202]ut vivere noluerit, mori nescierit, he would not live, and could not die, between fear of death, and torments of life. Francis King of France was taken prisoner by Charles V., ad mortem fere melancholicus, saith Guicciardini, melancholy almost to death, and that in an instant. But this is as clear as the sun, and needs no further 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, vile and base, a severe torture, summum scelus, a most intolerable burden; we [2205]shun it all, cane pejus et angue (worse than a dog or a snake), we abhor the name of it, [2206]Paupertas fugitur, totoque arcessitur orbe, as being the fountain of all other miseries, cares, woes, labours, and grievances whatsoever. To avoid which, we will take any pains,—extremos currit mercator ad Indos, we will leave no haven, no coast, no creek of the world unsearched, though it be to the hazard of our lives, we will dive to the bottom of the sea, to the bowels of the earth, [2207]five, six, seven, eight, nine hundred fathom deep, through all five zones, and both extremes of heat and cold: we will turn parasites and slaves, prostitute ourselves, swear and lie, damn our bodies and souls, forsake God, abjure religion, steal, rob, murder, rather than endure this insufferable yoke of poverty, which doth so tyrannise, crucify, and generally depress us. For look into the world, and you shall see men most part esteemed according to their means, and happy as they are rich: [2208]Ubique tanti quisque quantum habuit fuit. If he be likely to thrive, and in the way of preferment, who but he? In the vulgar opinion, if a man be wealthy, no matter how he gets it, of what parentage, how qualified, how virtuously endowed, or villainously inclined; let him be a bawd, a gripe, an usurer, a villain, a pagan, a barbarian, a wretch, [2209]Lucian's tyrant, on whom you may look with less security than on the sun; so that he be rich (and liberal withal) he shall be honoured, admired, adored, reverenced, and highly [2210]magnified. The rich is had in reputation because of his goods, Eccl. x. 31. He shall be befriended: for riches gather many friends, Prov. xix. 4,—multos numerabit amicos, all [2211]happiness ebbs and flows with his money. He shall be accounted a gracious lord, a Mecaenas, a benefactor, a wise, discreet, a proper, a valiant, a fortunate man, of a generous spirit, Pullus Jovis, et gallinae, filius albae: a hopeful, a good man, a virtuous, honest man. Quando ego ie Junonium puerum, et matris partum vere aureum, as [2212]Tully said of Octavianus, while he was adopted Caesar, and an heir [2213]apparent of so great a monarchy, he was a golden child. All [2214]honour, offices, applause, grand titles, and turgent epithets are put upon him, omnes omnia bona dicere; all men's eyes are upon him, God bless his good worship, his honour; [2215]every man speaks well of him, every man presents him, seeks and sues to him for his love, favour, and protection, to serve him, belong unto him, every man riseth to him, as to Themistocles in the Olympics, if he speak, as of Herod, Vox Dei, non hominis, the voice of God, not of man. All the graces, Veneres, pleasures, elegances attend him, [2216] golden fortune accompanies and lodgeth with him; and as to those Roman emperors, is placed in his chamber. [2217]———Secura naviget aura, Fortunamque suo temperet arbitrio:

he may sail as he will himself, and temper his estate at his pleasure, jovial days, splendour and magnificence, sweet music, dainty fare, the good things, and fat of the land, fine clothes, rich attires, soft beds, down pillows are at his command, all the world labours for him, thousands of artificers are his slaves to drudge for him, run, ride, and post for him: [2218]Divines (for Pythia Philippisat) lawyers, physicians, philosophers, scholars are his, wholly devote to his service. Every man seeks his [2219]acquaintance, his kindred, to match with him, though he be an oaf, a ninny, a monster, a goose-cap, uxorem ducat Danaen, [2220]when, and whom he will, hunc optant generum Rex et Regina—he is an excellent [2221]match for my son, my daughter, my niece, &c. Quicquid calcaverit hic, Rosa fiet, let him go whither he will, trumpets sound, bells ring, &c., all happiness attends him, every man is willing to entertain him, he sups in [2222]Apollo wheresoever he comes; what preparation is made for his [2223]entertainment? fish and fowl, spices and perfumes, all that sea and land affords. What cookery, masking, mirth to exhilarate his person? [2224]Da Trebio, pone ad Trebium, vis frater ab illia 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 jus cogit, obolus literatum pascit, metallum sanitatem conciliat, aes amicos conglutinat.[2230]And therefore not without good cause, John de Medicis, that rich Florentine, when he lay upon his death-bed, calling his sons, Cosmo and Laurence, before him, amongst other sober sayings, repeated this, animo quieto digredior, quod vos sanos et divites post me relinquam, It doth me good to think yet, though I be dying, that I shall leave you, my children, sound and rich: for wealth sways all. It is not with us, as amongst those Lacedaemonian senators of Lycurgus in Plutarch, He preferred that deserved best, was most virtuous and worthy of the place, [2231]not swiftness, or strength, or wealth, or friends carried it in those days: but inter optimos optimus, inter temperantes temperantissimus, the most temperate and best. We have no aristocracies but in contemplation, all oligarchies, wherein a few rich men domineer, do what they list, and are privileged by their greatness. [2232]They may freely trespass, and do as they please, no man dare accuse them, no not so much as mutter against them, there is no notice taken of it, they may securely do it, live after their own laws, and for their money get pardons, indulgences, redeem their souls from purgatory and hell itself,—clausum possidet arca Jovem. Let them be epicures, or atheists, libertines, Machiavellians, (as they often are) [2233]Et quamvis perjuris erit, sine gente, cruentus, they may go to heaven through the eye of a needle, if they will themselves, they may be canonised for saints, they shall be [2234]honourably interred in Mausolean tombs, commended by poets, registered in histories, have temples and statues erected to their names,—e manibus illis—nascentur violae.—If he be bountiful in his life, and liberal at his death, he shall have one to swear, as he did by Claudius the Emperor in Tacitus, he saw his soul go to heaven, and be miserably lamented at his funeral. Ambubalarum collegia, &c. Trimalcionis topanta in Petronius recta in caelum abiit, went right to heaven: a, base quean, [2235]thou wouldst have scorned once in thy misery to have a penny from her; and why? modio nummos metiit, she measured her money by the bushel. These prerogatives do not usually belong to rich men, but to such as are most part seeming rich, let him have but a good [2236]outside, he carries it, and shall be adored for a god, as [2237]Cyrus was amongst the Persians, ob splendidum apparatum, for his gay attires; now most men are esteemed according to their clothes. In our gullish times, whom you peradventure in modesty would give place to, as being deceived by his habit, and presuming him some great worshipful man, believe it, if you shall examine his estate, he will likely be proved a serving man of no great note, my lady's tailor, his lordship's barber, or some such gull, a Fastidius Brisk, Sir Petronel Flash, a mere outside. Only this respect is given him, that wheresoever he comes, he may call for what he will, and take place by reason of his outward habit. But on the contrary, if he be poor, Prov. xv. 15, all his days are miserable, he is under hatches, dejected, rejected and forsaken, poor in purse, poor in spirit; [2238]prout res nobis fluit, ita et animus se habet; [2239]money gives life and soul. Though he be honest, wise, learned, well-deserving, noble by birth, and of excellent good parts; yet in that he is poor, unlikely to rise, come to honour, office, or good means, he is contemned, neglected, frustra sapit, inter literas esurit, amicus molestus. [2240]If he speak, what babbler is this? Ecclus, his nobility without wealth, is [2241]projecta vilior alga, and he not esteemed: nos viles pulli nati infelicibus ovis, if once poor, we are metamorphosed in an instant, base slaves, villains, and vile drudges; [2242]for to be poor, is to be a knave, a fool, a wretch, a wicked, an odious fellow, a common eyesore, say poor and say all; they are born to labour, to misery, to carry burdens like juments, pistum stercus comedere with Ulysses' companions, and as Chremilus objected in Aristophanes, [2243] salem lingere, lick salt, to empty jakes, fay channels, [2244]carry out dirt and dunghills, sweep chimneys, rub horse-heels, &c. I say nothing of Turks, galley-slaves, which are bought [2245]and sold like juments, or those African Negroes, or poor [2246]Indian drudges, qui indies hinc inde deferendis oneribus occumbunt, nam quod apud nos boves et asini vehunt, trahunt, &c. [2247]Id omne misellis Indis, they are ugly to behold, and though erst spruce, now rusty and squalid, because poor, [2248]immundas fortunas aquum est squalorem sequi, it is ordinarily so. [2249]Others eat to live, but they live to drudge, [2250]servilis et misera gens nihil recusare audet, a servile generation, that dare refuse no task.—[2251]Heus tu Dromo, cape hoc flabellum, ventulum hinc facito dum lavamus, sirrah blow wind upon us while we wash, and bid your fellow get him up betimes in the morning, be it fair or foul, he shall run fifty miles afoot tomorrow, to carry me a letter to my mistress, Socia ad pistrinam, Socia shall tarry at home and grind malt all day long, Tristan thresh. Thus are they commanded, being indeed some of them as so many footstools for rich men to tread on, blocks for them to get on horseback, or as [2252]walls for them to piss on. They are commonly such people, rude, silly, superstitious idiots, nasty, unclean, lousy, poor, dejected, slavishly humble: and as [2253]Leo Afer observes of the commonalty of Africa, natura viliores sunt, nec apud suos duces majore in precio quam si canes essent: [2254]base by nature, and no more esteemed than dogs, miseram, laboriosam, calamitosam vitam agunt, et inopem, infelicem, rudiores asinis, ut e brutis plane natos dicas: no learning, no knowledge, no civility, scarce common, sense, nought but barbarism amongst them, belluino more vivunt, neque calceos gestant, neque vestes, like rogues and vagabonds, they go barefooted and barelegged, the soles of their feet being as hard as horse-hoofs, as [2255]Radzivilus observed at Damietta in Egypt, leading a laborious, miserable, wretched, unhappy life, [2256]like beasts and juments, if not worse: (for a [2257]Spaniard in Incatan, sold three Indian boys for a cheese, and a hundred Negro slaves for a horse) their discourse is scurrility, their summum bonum, a pot of ale. There is not any slavery which these villains will not undergo, inter illos plerique latrinas evacuant, alii culinariam curant, alii stabularios agunt, urinatores et id genus similia exercent, &c. like those people that dwell in the [2258]Alps, chimney-sweepers, jakes-farmers, dirt-daubers, vagrant rogues, they labour hard some, and yet cannot get clothes to put on, or bread to eat. For what can filthy poverty give else, but [2259]beggary, fulsome nastiness, squalor, contempt, drudgery, labour, ugliness, hunger and thirst; pediculorum, et pulicum numerum? as [2260] he well followed it in Aristophanes, fleas and lice, pro pallio vestem laceram, et pro pulvinari lapidem bene magnum ad caput, rags for his raiment, and a stone for his pillow, pro cathedra, ruptae caput urnae, he sits in a broken pitcher, or on a block for a chair, et malvae, ramos pro panibus comedit, he drinks water, and lives on wort leaves, pulse, like a hog, or scraps like a dog, ut nunc nobis vita afficitur, quis non putabit insaniam esse, infelicitatemque? as Chremilus concludes his speech, as we poor men live nowadays, who will not take our life to be [2261] infelicity, misery, and 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 means to live according to their callings, bring up their children, it breaks their hearts, they cannot do as they would. No greater misery than for a lord to have a knight's living, a gentleman a yeoman's, not to be able to live as his birth and place require. Poverty and want are generally corrosives to all kinds of men, especially to such as have been in good and flourishing estate, are suddenly distressed, [2266]nobly born, liberally brought up, and, by some disaster and casualty miserably dejected. For the rest, as they have base fortunes, so have they base minds correspondent, like beetles, e stercore orti, e stercore victus, in stercore delicium, as they were obscurely born and bred, so they delight in obscenity; they are not thoroughly touched with it. Angustas animas angusto in pectore versant. [2267]Yet, that which is no small cause of their torments, if once they come to be in distress, they are forsaken of their fellows, most part neglected, and left unto themselves; as poor [2268]Terence in Rome was by Scipio, Laelius, and Furius, his great and noble friends. Nil Publius Scipio profuit, nil ei Laelius, nil Furius, Tres per idem tempus qui agitabant nobiles facillime, Horum ille opera ne domum quident habuit conductitiam.[2269]

'Tis generally so, Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris, he is left cold and comfortless, nullas ad amissas ibit amicus opes, all flee from him as from a rotten wall, now ready to fall on their heads. Prov. xix. 1. Poverty separates them from their [2270]neighbours. [2271]Dum fortuna favet vultum servatis amici, Cum cecidit, turpi vertitis ora fuga.

Whilst fortune favour'd, friends, you smil'd on me, But when she fled, a friend I could not see.

Which is worse yet, if he be poor [2272]every man contemns him, insults over him, oppresseth him, scoffs at, aggravates his misery. [2273]Quum caepit quassata domus subsidere, partes In proclinatas omne recumbit onus.

When once the tottering house begins to shrink, Thither comes all the weight by an instinct.

Nay they are odious to their own brethren, and dearest friends, Pro. xix. 7. His brethren hate him if he be poor, [2274]omnes vicini oderunt, his neighbours hate him, Pro. xiv. 20, [2275]omnes me noti ac ignoti deserunt, as he complained in the comedy, friends and strangers, all forsake me. Which is most grievous, poverty makes men ridiculous, Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se, quam quod ridiculos homines facit, they must endure [2276]jests, taunts, flouts, blows of their betters, and take all in good part to get a meal's meat: [2277]magnum pauperies opprobrium, jubet quidvis et facere et pati. He must turn parasite, jester, fool, cum desipientibus desipere; saith [2278]Euripides, slave, villain, drudge to get a poor living, apply himself to each man's humours, to win and please, &c., and be buffeted when he hath all done, as Ulysses was by Melanthius [2279]in Homer, be reviled, baffled, insulted over, for [2280]potentiorum stultitia perferenda est, and may not so much as mutter against it. He must turn rogue and villain; for as the saying is, Necessitas cogit ad turpia, poverty alone makes men thieves, rebels, murderers, traitors, assassins, because of poverty we have sinned, Ecclus. xxvii. 1, swear and forswear, bear false witness, lie, dissemble, anything, as I say, to advantage themselves, and to relieve their necessities: [2281] Culpae scelerisque magistra est, when a man is driven to his shifts, what will he not do? [2282]———si miserum fortuna Sinonem Finxit, vanum etiam mendacemque improba finget.

he will betray his father, prince, and country, turn Turk, forsake religion, abjure God and all, nulla tam horrenda proditio, quam illi lucri causa (saith [2283]Leo Afer) perpetrare nolint. [2284]Plato, therefore, calls poverty, thievish, sacrilegious, filthy, wicked, and mischievous: and well he might. For it makes many an upright man otherwise, had he not been in want, to take bribes, to be corrupt, to do against his conscience, to sell his tongue, heart, hand, &c., to be churlish, hard, unmerciful, uncivil, to use indirect means to help his present estate. It makes princes to exact upon their subjects, great men tyrannise, landlords oppress, justice mercenary, lawyers vultures, physicians harpies, friends importunate, tradesmen liars, honest men thieves, devout assassins, great men to prostitute their wives, daughters, and themselves, middle sort to repine, commons to mutiny, all to grudge, murmur, and complain. A great temptation to all mischief, it compels some miserable wretches to counterfeit several diseases, to dismember, make themselves blind, lame, to have a more plausible cause to beg, and lose their limbs to recover their present wants. Jodocus Damhoderius, a lawyer of Bruges, praxi rerum criminal. c. 112. hath some notable examples of such counterfeit cranks, and every village almost will yield abundant testimonies amongst us; we have dummerers, Abraham men, &c. And that which is the extent of misery, it enforceth them through anguish and wearisomeness of their lives, to make away themselves; they had rather be hanged, drowned, &c., than to live without means. [2285]In mare caetiferum, ne te premat aspera egestas, Desili, et a celsis corrue Cerne jugis.

Much better 'tis to break thy neck, Or drown thyself i' the sea,

Than suffer irksome poverty; Go make thyself away.

A Sybarite of old, as I find it registered in [2286]Athenaeus, supping in Phiditiis in Sparta, and observing their hard fare, said it was no marvel if the Lacedaemonians were valiant men; for his part, he would rather run upon a sword point (and so would any man in his wits,) than live with such base diet, or lead so wretched a life. [2287]In Japonia, 'tis a common thing to stifle their children if they be poor, or to make an abortion, which Aristotle commends. In that civil commonwealth of China, [2288]the mother strangles her child, if she be not able to bring it up, and had rather lose, than sell it, or have it endure such misery as poor men do. Arnobius, lib. 7, adversus gentes, [2289]Lactantius, lib. 5. cap. 9. objects as much to those ancient Greeks and Romans, they did expose their children to wild beasts, strangle, or knock out their brains against a stone, in such cases. If we may give credit to [2290]Munster, amongst us Christians in Lithuania, they voluntarily mancipate and sell themselves, their wives and children to rich men, to avoid hunger and beggary; [2291] many make away themselves in this extremity. Apicius the Roman, when he cast up his accounts, and found but 100,000 crowns left, murdered himself for fear he should be famished to death. P. Forestus, in his medicinal observations, hath a memorable example of two brothers of Louvain that, being destitute of means, became both melancholy, and in a discontented humour massacred themselves. Another of a merchant, learned, wise otherwise and discreet, but out of a deep apprehension he had of a loss at seas, would not be persuaded but as [2292]Ventidius in the poet, he should die a beggar. In a word, thus much I may conclude of poor men, that though they have good [2293]parts they cannot show or make use of them: [2294]ab inopia ad virtutem obsepta est via, 'tis hard for a poor man to [2295] rise, haud facile emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat res angusta domi. [2296]The wisdom of the poor is despised, and his words are not heard. Eccles. vi. 19. His works are rejected, contemned, for the baseness and obscurity of the author, though laudable and good in themselves, they will not likely take. Nulla placere diu, neque vivere carmina possunt, Quae scribuntur atquae potoribus.———

No verses can please men or live long that are written by water-drinkers. Poor men cannot please, their actions, counsels, consultations, projects, are vilified in the world's esteem, amittunt consilium in re, which Gnatho long since observed. [2297]Sapiens crepidas sibi nunquam nec soleas fecit, a wise man never cobbled shoes; as he said of old, but how doth he prove it? I am sure we find it otherwise in our days, [2298] pruinosis horret facundia pannis. Homer himself must beg if he want means, and as by report sometimes he did [2299]go from door to door, and sing ballads, with a company of boys about him. This common misery of theirs must needs distract, make them discontent and melancholy, as ordinarily they are, wayward, peevish, like a weary traveller, for [2300] Fames et mora bilem in nares conciunt, still murmuring and repining: Ob inopiam morosi sunt, quibus est male, as Plutarch quotes out of Euripides, and that comical poet well seconds, [2301]Omnes quibus res sunt minus secundae, nescio quomodo Suspitiosi, ad contumeliam omnia accipiunt magis, Propter suam impotentiam se credunt negligi.

If they be in adversity, they are more suspicious and apt to mistake: they think themselves scorned by reason of their misery: and therefore many generous spirits in such cases withdraw themselves from all company, as that comedian [2302]Terence is said to have done; when he perceived himself to be forsaken and poor, he voluntarily banished himself to Stymphalus, a base town in Arcadia, and there miserably died. [2303]———ad summam inopiam redactus, Itaque e conspectu omnium abiit Graeciae in terram ultimam.

Neither is it without cause, for we see men commonly respected according to their means, ([2304]an dives sit omnes quaerunt, nemo an bonus) and vilified if they be in bad clothes. [2305]Philophaemen the orator was set to cut wood, because he was so homely attired, [2306]Terentius was placed at the lower end of Cecilius' table, because of his homely outside. [2307] Dante, that famous Italian poet, by reason his clothes were but mean, could not be admitted to sit down at a feast. Gnatho scorned his old familiar friend because of his apparel, [2308]Hominem video pannis, annisque obsitum, hic ego illum contempsi prae me. King Persius overcome sent a letter to [2309]Paulus Aemilius, the Roman general; Persius P. Consuli. S. but he scorned him any answer, tacite exprobrans fortunam suam (saith mine author) upbraiding him with a present fortune. [2310]Carolus Pugnax, that great duke of Burgundy, made H. Holland, late duke of Exeter, exiled, run after his horse like a lackey, and would take no notice of him: [2311] 'tis the common fashion of the world. So that such men as are poor may justly be discontent, melancholy, and complain of their present misery, and all may pray with [2312]Solomon, Give me, O Lord, neither riches nor poverty; feed me with food convenient for me.

SUBSECT. VII.—A heap of other Accidents causing Melancholy, Death of Friends, Losses, &c.

In this labyrinth of accidental causes, the farther I wander, the more intricate I find the passage, multae ambages, and new causes as so many by-paths offer themselves to be discussed: to search out all, were an Herculean work, and fitter for Theseus: I will follow mine intended thread; and point only at some few of the chiefest. Death of Friends.] Amongst which, loss and death of friends may challenge a first place, multi tristantur, as [2313]Vives well observes, post delicias, convivia, dies festos, many are melancholy after a feast, holiday, merry meeting, or some pleasing sport, if they be solitary by chance, left alone to themselves, without employment, sport, or want their ordinary companions, some at the departure of friends only whom they shall shortly see again, weep and howl, and look after them as a cow lows after her calf, or a child takes on that goes to school after holidays. Ut me levarat tuus adventus, sic discessus afflixit, (which [2314]Tully writ to Atticus) thy coming was not so welcome to me, as thy departure was harsh. Montanus, consil. 132. makes mention of a country woman that parting with her friends and native place, became grievously melancholy for many years; and Trallianus of another, so caused for the absence of her husband: which is an ordinary passion amongst our good wives, if their husband tarry out a day longer than his appointed time, or break his hour, they take on presently with sighs and tears, he is either robbed, or dead, some mischance or other is surely befallen him, they cannot eat, drink, sleep, or be quiet in mind, till they see him again. If parting of friends, absence alone can work such violent effects, what shall death do, when they must eternally be separated, never in this world to meet again? This is so grievous a torment for the time, that it takes away their appetite, desire of life, extinguisheth all delights, it causeth deep sighs and groans, tears, exclamations, (O dulce germen matris, o sanguis meus, Eheu tepentes, &c.—o flos tener.)[2315]

howling, roaring, many bitter pangs, [2316]lamentis gemituque et faemineo ululatu Tecta fremunt) and by frequent meditation extends so far sometimes, [2317]they think they see their dead friends continually in their eyes, observantes imagines, as Conciliator confesseth he saw his mother's ghost presenting herself still before him. Quod nimis miseri volunt, hoc facile credunt, still, still, still, that good father, that good son, that good wife, that dear friend runs in their minds: Totus animus hac una cogitatione defixus est, all the year long, as [2318]Pliny complains to Romanus, methinks I see Virginius, I hear Virginius, I talk with Virginius, &c. [2319]Te sine, vae misero mihi, lilia nigra videntur, Pallentesque rosae, nec dulce rubens hyacinthus, Nullos nec myrtus, noc laurus spirat odores.

They that are most staid and patient, are so furiously carried headlong by the passion of sorrow in this case, that brave discreet men otherwise, oftentimes forget themselves, and weep like children many months together, [2320]as if that they to water would, and will not be comforted. They are gone, they are gone; what shall I do? Abstulit atra dies et funere mersit acerbo, Quis dabit in lachrymas fontem mihi? quis satis altos Accendet gemitus, et acerbo verba dolori? Exhaurit pietas oculos, et hiantia frangit Pectora, nec plenos avido sinit edere questus, Magna adeo jactura premit, &c.

Fountains of tears who gives, who lends me groans, Deep sighs sufficient to express my moans? Mine eyes are dry, my breast in pieces torn, My loss so great, I cannot enough mourn.

So Stroza Filius, that elegant Italian poet, in his Epicedium, bewails his father's death, he could moderate his passions in other matters, (as he confesseth) but not in this, lie yields wholly to sorrow, Nunc fateor do terga malis, mens illa fatiscit, Indomitus quondam vigor et constantia mentis.

How doth [2321]Quintilian complain for the loss of his son, to despair almost: Cardan lament his only child in his book de libris propriis, and elsewhere in many of his tracts, [2322]St. Ambrose his brother's death? an ego possum non cogitare de te, aut sine lachrymis cogitare? O amari dies, o flebiles noctes, &c. Can I ever cease to think of thee, and to think with sorrow? O bitter days, O nights of sorrow, &c. Gregory Nazianzen, that noble Pulcheria! O decorem, &c. flos recens, pullulans, &c. Alexander, a man of most invincible courage, after Hephestion's death, as Curtius relates, triduum jacuit ad moriendum obstinatus, lay three days together upon the ground, obstinate, to die with him, and would neither eat, drink, nor sleep. The woman that communed with Esdras (lib. 2. cap. 10.) when her son fell down dead. fled into the field, and would not return into the city, but there resolved to remain, neither to eat nor drink, but mourn and fast until she died. Rachel wept for her children, and would not be comforted because they were not. Matt. ii. 18. So did Adrian the emperor bewail his Antinous; Hercules, Hylas; Orpheus, Eurydice; David, Absalom; (O my dear son Absalom) Austin his mother Monica, Niobe her children, insomuch that the [2323]poets feigned her to be turned into a stone, as being stupefied through the extremity of grief. [2324]Aegeas, signo lugubri filii consternatus, in mare se proecipitatem 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 proecipitatem daret; and ready through distraction to make away himself: and in his Fifteenth counsel, tells a story of one fifty years of age, that grew desperate upon his mother's death; and cured by Fallopius, fell many years after into a relapse, by the sudden death of a daughter which he had, and could never after be recovered. The fury of this passion is so violent sometimes, that it daunts whole kingdoms and cities. Vespasian's death was pitifully lamented all over the Roman empire, totus orbis lugebat, saith Aurelius Victor. Alexander commanded the battlements of houses to be pulled down, mules and horses to have their manes shorn off, and many common soldiers to be slain, to accompany his dear Hephestion's death; which is now practised amongst the Tartars, when [2327]a great Cham dieth, ten or twelve thousand must be slain, men and horses, all they meet; and among those the [2328]Pagan Indians, their wives and servants voluntarily die with them. Leo Decimus was so much bewailed in Rome after his departure, that as Jovius gives out, [2329]communis salus, publica hilaritas, the common safety of all good fellowship, peace, mirth, and plenty died with him, tanquam eodem sepulchro cum Leone condita lugebantur: for it was a golden age whilst he lived, [2330]but after his decease an iron season succeeded, barbara vis et foeda vastitas, et dira malorum omnium incommoda, wars, plagues, vastity, discontent. When Augustus Caesar died, saith Paterculus, orbis ruinam timueramus, we were all afraid, as if heaven had fallen upon our heads. [2331]Budaeus records, how that, at Lewis the Twelfth his death, tam subita mutatio, ut qui prius digito coelum attingere videbantur, nunc humi derepente serpere, sideratos esse diceres, they that were erst in heaven, upon a sudden, as if they had been planet-strucken, lay grovelling on the ground; [2332]Concussis cecidere animis, seu frondibus ingens Sylva dolet lapsis———

they looked like cropped trees. [2333]At Nancy in Lorraine, when Claudia Valesia, Henry the Second French king's sister, and the duke's wife deceased, the temples for forty days were all shut up, no prayers nor masses, but in that room where she was. The senators all seen in black, and for a twelvemonth's space throughout the city, they were forbid to sing or dance. [2334]Non ulli pastos illis egre diebus Frigida (Daphne) boves ad flumina, nulla nec amnem Libavit quadrupes, nec graminis attigit herbam.

The swains forgot their sheep, nor near the brink Of running waters brought their herds to drink; The thirsty cattle, of themselves, abstained From water, and their grassy fare disdain'd.

How were we affected here in England for our Titus, deliciae, humani generis, Prince Henry's immature death, as if all our dearest friends' lives had exhaled with his? [2335]Scanderbeg's death was not so much lamented in Epirus. In a word, as [2336]he saith of Edward the First at the news of Edward of Caernarvon his son's birth, immortaliter gavisus, he was immortally glad, may we say on the contrary of friends' deaths, immortaliter gementes, we are diverse of us as so many turtles, eternally dejected with it. There is another sorrow, which arises from the loss of temporal goods and fortunes, which equally afflicts, and may go hand in hand with the preceding; loss of time, loss of honour, office, of good name, of labour, frustrate hopes, will much torment; but in my judgment, there is no torture like unto it, or that sooner procureth this malady and mischief: [2337]Ploratur lachrymis amissa pecunia veris:

Lost money is bewailed with grief sincere.

it wrings true tears from our eyes, many sighs, much sorrow from our hearts, and often causes habitual melancholy itself, Guianerius tract. 15. 5. repeats this for an especial cause: [2338]Loss of friends, and loss of goods, make many men melancholy, as I have often seen by continual meditation of such things. The same causes Arnoldus Villanovanus inculcates, Breviar. l. 1. c. 18. ex rerum amissione, damno, amicorum morte, &c. Want alone will make a man mad, to be Sans argent will cause a deep and grievous melancholy. Many persons are affected like [2339] Irishmen in this behalf, who if they have a good scimitar, had rather have a blow on their arm, than their weapon hurt: they will sooner lose their life, than their goods: and the grief that cometh hence, continueth long (saith [2340]Plater) and out of many dispositions, procureth an habit. [2341]Montanus and Frisemelica cured a young man of 22 years of age, that so became melancholy, ab amissam pecuniam, for a sum of money which he had unhappily lost. Sckenkius hath such another story of one melancholy, because he overshot himself, and spent his stock in unnecessary building. [2342]Roger that rich bishop of Salisbury, exutus opibus et castris a Rege Stephano, spoiled of his goods by king Stephen, vi doloris absorptus, atque in amentiam versus, indecentia fecit, through grief ran mad, spoke and did he knew not what. Nothing so familiar, as for men in such cases, through anguish of mind to make away themselves. A poor fellow went to hang himself, (which Ausonius hath elegantly expressed in a neat [2343]Epigram) but finding by chance a pot of money, flung away the rope, and went merrily home, but he that hid the gold, when he missed it, hanged himself with that rope which the other man had left, in a discontented humour. At qui condiderat, postquam non reperit aurum, Aptavit collo, quem reperit laqueum.

Such feral accidents can want and penury produce. Be it by suretyship, shipwreck, fire, spoil and pillage of soldiers, or what loss soever, it boots not, it will work the like effect, the same desolation in provinces and cities, as well as private persons. The Romans were miserably dejected after the battle of Cannae, the men amazed for fear, the stupid women tore their hair and cried. The Hungarians, when their king Ladislaus and bravest soldiers were slain by the Turks, Luctus publicus, &c. The Venetians when their forces were overcome by the French king Lewis, the French and Spanish kings, pope, emperor, all conspired against them, at Cambray, the French herald denounced open war in the senate: Lauredane Venetorum dux, &c., and they had lost Padua, Brixia, Verona, Forum Julii, their territories in the continent, and had now nothing left, but the city of Venice itself, et urbi quoque ipsi (saith [2344]Bembus) timendum putarent, and the loss of that was likewise to be feared, tantus repente dolor omnes tenuit, ut nunquam, alias, &c., they were pitifully plunged, never before in such lamentable distress. Anno 1527, when Rome was sacked by Burbonius, the common soldiers made such spoil, that fair [2345]churches were turned to stables, old monuments and books made horse-litter, or burned like straw; relics, costly pictures defaced; altars demolished, rich hangings, carpets, &c., trampled in the dirt. [2346]Their wives and loveliest daughters constuprated by every base cullion, as Sejanus' daughter was by the hangman in public, before their fathers and husbands' faces. Noblemen's children, and of the wealthiest citizens, reserved for princes' beds, were prostitute to every common soldier, and kept for concubines; senators and cardinals themselves dragged along the streets, and put to exquisite torments, to confess where their money was hid; the rest, murdered on heaps, lay stinking in the streets; infants' brains dashed out before their mothers' eyes. A lamentable sight it was to see so goodly a city so suddenly defaced, rich citizens sent a begging to Venice, Naples, Ancona, &c., that erst lived in all manner of delights. [2347]Those proud palaces that even now vaunted their tops up to heaven, were dejected as low as hell in an instant. Whom will not such misery make discontent? Terence the poet drowned himself (some say) for the loss of his comedies, which suffered shipwreck. When a poor man hath made many hungry meals, got together a small sum, which he loseth in an instant; a scholar spent many an hour's study to no purpose, his labours lost, &c., how should it otherwise be? I may conclude with Gregory, temporalium amor, quantum afficit, cum haeret possessio, tantum quum subtrahitur, urit dolor; riches do not so much exhilarate us with their possession, as they torment us with their loss. Next to sorrow still I may annex such accidents as procure fear; for besides those terrors which I have [2348]before touched, and many other fears (which are infinite) there is a superstitious fear, one of the three great causes of fear in Aristotle, commonly caused by prodigies and dismal accidents, which much trouble many of us, (Nescio quid animus mihi praesagit mali.) As if a hare cross the way at our going forth, or a mouse gnaw our clothes: if they bleed three drops at nose, the salt falls towards them, a black spot appear in their nails, &c., with many such, which Delrio Tom. 2. l. 3. sect. 4. Austin Niphus in his book de Auguriis. Polydore Virg. l. 3. de Prodigas. Sarisburiensis Polycrat. l. 1. c. 13. discuss at large. They are so much affected, that with the very strength of imagination, fear, and the devil's craft, [2349]they pull those misfortunes they suspect, upon their own heads, and that which they fear, shall come upon them, as Solomon fortelleth, Prov. x. 24. and Isaiah denounceth, lxvi. 4. which if [2350]they could neglect and contemn, would not come to pass, Eorum vires nostra resident opinione, ut morbi gravitas ?grotantium cogitatione, they are intended and remitted, as our opinion is fixed, more or less. N. N. dat poenas, saith [2351]Crato of such a one, utinam non attraheret: he is punished, and is the cause of it [2352] himself: [2353]Dum fata fugimus fata stulti incurrimus, the thing that I feared, saith Job, is fallen upon me. As much we may say of them that are troubled with their fortunes; or ill destinies foreseen: multos angit praecientia malorum: The foreknowledge of what shall come to pass, crucifies many men: foretold by astrologers, or wizards, iratum ob coelum, be it ill accident, or death itself: which often falls out by God's permission; quia daemonem timent (saith Chrysostom) Deus ideo permittit accidere. Severus, Adrian, Domitian, can testify as much, of whose fear and suspicion, Sueton, Herodian, and the rest of those writers, tell strange stories in this behalf. [2354]Montanus consil. 31. hath one example of a young man, exceeding melancholy upon this occasion. Such fears have still tormented mortal men in all ages, by reason of those lying oracles, and juggling priests. [2355]There was a fountain in Greece, near Ceres' temple in Achaia, where the event of such diseases was to be known; A glass let down by a thread, &c. Amongst those Cyanean rocks at the springs of Lycia, was the oracle of Thrixeus Apollo, where all fortunes were foretold, sickness, health, or what they would besides: so common people have been always deluded with future events. At this day, Metus futurorum maxime torquet Sinas, this foolish fear, mightily crucifies them in China: as [2356]Matthew Riccius the Jesuit informeth us, in his commentaries of those countries, of all nations they are most superstitious, and much tormented in this kind, attributing so much to their divinators, ut ipse metus fidem faciat, that fear itself and conceit, cause it to [2357]fall out: If he foretell sickness such a day, that very time they will be sick, vi metus afflicti in aegritudinem cadunt; and many times die as it is foretold. A true saying, Timor mortis, morte pejor, the fear of death is worse than death itself, and the memory of that sad hour, to some fortunate and rich men, is as bitter as gall, Eccl. xli. 1. Inquietam nobis vitam facit mortis metus, a worse plague cannot happen to a man, than to be so troubled in his mind; 'tis triste divortium, a heavy separation, to leave their goods, with so much labour got, pleasures of the world, which they have so deliciously enjoyed, friends and companions whom they so dearly loved, all at once. Axicchus the philosopher was bold and courageous all his life, and gave good precepts de contemnenda morte, and against the vanity of the world, to others; but being now ready to die himself, he was mightily dejected, hac luce privabor? his orbabor bonis?[2358]he lamented like a child, &c. And though Socrates himself was there to comfort him, ubi pristina virtutum jactatio O Axioche? where is all your boasted virtue now, my friend? yet he was very timorous and impatient of death, much troubled in his mind, Imbellis pavor et impatientia, &c. O Clotho, Megapetus the tyrant in Lucian exclaims, now ready to depart, let me live a while longer. [2359]I will give thee a thousand talents of gold, and two boles besides, which I took from Cleocritus, worth a hundred talents apiece. Woe's me, [2360] saith another, what goodly manors shall I leave! what fertile fields! what a fine house! what pretty children! how many servants! who shall gather my grapes, my corn? Must I now die so well settled? Leave all, so richly and well provided? Woe's me, what shall I do? [2361]Animula vagula, blandula, qua nunc abibis in loca? To these tortures of fear and sorrow, may well be annexed curiosity, that irksome, that tyrannising care, nimia solicitudo, [2362]superfluous industry about unprofitable things, and their qualities, as Thomas defines it: an itching humour or a kind of longing to see that which is not to be seen, to do that which ought not to be done, to know that [2363]secret which should not be known, to eat of the forbidden fruit. We commonly molest and tire ourselves about things unfit and unnecessary, as Martha troubled herself to little purpose. Be it in religion, humanity, magic, philosophy, policy, any action or study, 'tis a needless trouble, a mere torment. For what else is school divinity, how many doth it puzzle? what fruitless questions about the Trinity, resurrection, election, predestination, reprobation, hell-fire, &c., how many shall be saved, damned? What else is all superstition, but an endless observation of idle ceremonies, traditions? What is most of our philosophy but a labyrinth of opinions, idle questions, propositions, metaphysical terms? Socrates, therefore, held all philosophers, cavillers, and mad men, circa subtilia Cavillatores pro insanis habuit, palam eos arguens, saith [2364]Eusebius, because they commonly sought after such things quae nec percipi a nobis neque comprehendi posset, or put case they did understand, yet they were altogether unprofitable. For what matter is it for us to know how high the Pleiades are, how far distant Perseus and Cassiopeia from us, how deep the sea, &c., we are neither wiser, as he follows it, nor modester, nor better, nor richer, nor stronger for the knowledge of it. Quod supra nos nihil ad, nos, I may say the same of those genethliacal studies, what is astrology but vain elections, predictions? all magic, but a troublesome error, a pernicious foppery? physic, but intricate rules and prescriptions? philology, but vain criticisms? logic, needless sophisms? metaphysics themselves, but intricate subtleties, and fruitless abstractions? alchemy, but a bundle of errors? to what end are such great tomes? why do we spend so many years in their studies? Much better to know nothing at all, as those barbarous Indians are wholly ignorant, than as some of us, to be so sore vexed about unprofitable toys: stultus labor est ineptiarum, to build a house without pins, make a rope of sand, to what end? cui bono? He studies on, but as the boy told St. Austin, when I have laved the sea dry, thou shalt understand the mystery of the Trinity. He makes observations, keeps times and seasons; and as [2365]Conradus the emperor would not touch his new bride, till an astrologer had told him a masculine hour, but with what success? He travels into Europe, Africa, Asia, searcheth every creek, sea, city, mountain, gulf, to what end? See one promontory (said Socrates of old), one mountain, one sea, one river, and see all. An alchemist spends his fortunes to find out the philosopher's stone forsooth, cure all diseases, make men long-lived, victorious, fortunate, invisible, and beggars himself, misled by those seducing impostors (which he shall never attain) to make gold; an antiquary consumes his treasure and time to scrape up a company of old coins, statues, rules, edicts, manuscripts, &c., he must know what was done of old in Athens, Rome, what lodging, diet, houses they had, and have all the present news at first, though never so remote, before all others, what projects, counsels, consultations, &c., quid Juno in aurem insusurret Jovi, what's now decreed in France, what in Italy: who was he, whence comes he, which way, whither goes he, &c. Aristotle must find out the motion of Euripus; Pliny must needs see Vesuvius, but how sped they? One loseth goods, another his life; Pyrrhus will conquer Africa first, and then Asia: he will be a sole monarch, a second immortal, a third rich; a fourth commands. [2366] Turbine magno spes solicitae in urbibus errant; we run, ride, take indefatigable pains, all up early, down late, striving to get that which we had better be without, (Ardelion's busybodies as we are) it were much fitter for us to be quiet, sit still, and take our ease. His sole study is for words, that they be—Lepidae lexeis compostae, ut tesserulae omnes, not a syllable misplaced, to set out a stramineous subject: as thine is about apparel, to follow the fashion, to be terse and polite, 'tis thy sole business: both with like profit. His only delight is building, he spends himself to get curious pictures, intricate models and plots, another is wholly ceremonious about titles, degrees, inscriptions: a third is over-solicitous about his diet, he must have such and such exquisite sauces, meat so dressed, so far-fetched, peregrini aeris volucres, so cooked, &c., something to provoke thirst, something anon to quench his thirst. Thus he redeems his appetite with extraordinary charge to his purse, is seldom pleased with any meal, whilst a trivial stomach useth all with delight and is never offended. Another must have roses in winter, alieni temporis flores, snow-water in summer, fruits before they can be or are usually ripe, artificial gardens and fishponds on the tops of houses, all things opposite to the vulgar sort, intricate and rare, or else they are nothing worth. So busy, nice, curious wits, make that insupportable in all vocations, trades, actions, employments, which to duller apprehensions is not offensive, earnestly seeking that which others so scornfully neglect. Thus through our foolish curiosity do we macerate ourselves, tire our souls, and run headlong, through our indiscretion, perverse will, and want of government, into many needless cares, and troubles, vain expenses, tedious journeys, painful hours; and when all is done, quorsum haec? cui bono? to what end? [2367]Nescire velle quae Magister maximus Docere non vult, erudita inscitia est.

Unfortunate marriage.] Amongst these passions and irksome accidents, unfortunate marriage may be ranked: a condition of life appointed by God himself in Paradise, an honourable and happy estate, and as great a felicity as can befall a man in this world, [2368]if the parties can agree as they ought, and live as [2369]Seneca lived with his Paulina; but if they be unequally matched, or at discord, a greater misery cannot be expected, to have a scold, a slut, a harlot, a fool, a fury or a fiend, there can be no such plague. Eccles. xxvi. 14, He that hath her is as if he held a scorpion, &c. xxvi. 25, a wicked wife makes a sorry countenance, a heavy heart, and he had rather dwell with a lion than keep house with such a wife. Her [2370]properties Jovianus Pontanus hath described at large, Ant. dial. Tom. 2, under the name of Euphorbia. Or if they be not equal in years, the like mischief happens. Cecilius in Agellius lib. 2. cap. 23, complains much of an old wife, dum ejus morti inhio, egomet mortuus vivo inter vivos, whilst I gape after her death, I live a dead man amongst the living, or if they dislike upon any occasion, [2371]Judge who that are unfortunately wed What 'tis to come into a loathed bed.

The same inconvenience befalls women. [2372]At vos o duri miseram lugete parentes, Si ferro aut laqueo laeva hac me exsolvere sorte 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 she hanged herself. Many other stories he relates in this kind. Thus men are plagued with women; they again with men, when they are of divers humours and conditions; he a spendthrift, she sparing; one honest, the other dishonest, &c. Parents many times disquiet their children, and they their parents. [2374]A foolish son is an heaviness to his mother. Injusta noverca: a stepmother often vexeth a whole family, is matter of repentance, exercise of patience, fuel of dissension, which made Cato's son expostulate with his father, why he should offer to marry his client Solinius' daughter, a young wench, Cujus causa novercam induceret; what offence had he done, that he should marry again? Unkind, unnatural friends, evil neighbours, bad servants, debts and debates, &c., 'twas Chilon's sentence, comes aeris alieni et litis est miseria, misery and usury do commonly together; suretyship is the bane of many families, Sponde, praesto noxa est: he shall be sore vexed that is surety for a stranger, Prov. xi. 15, and he that hateth suretyship is sure. Contention, brawling, lawsuits, falling out of neighbours and friends.—discordia demens (Virg. Aen. 6,) are equal to the first, grieve many a man, and vex his soul. Nihil sane miserabilius eorum mentibus, (as [2375]Boter holds) nothing so miserable as such men, full of cares, griefs, anxieties, as if they were stabbed with a sharp sword, fear, suspicion, desperation, sorrow, are their ordinary companions. Our Welshmen are noted by some of their [2376]own writers, to consume one another in this kind; but whosoever they are that use it, these are their common symptoms, especially if they be convict or overcome, [2377]cast in a suit. Arius put out of a bishopric by Eustathius, turned heretic, and lived after discontented all his life. [2378]Every repulse is of like nature; heu quanta de spe decidi! Disgrace, infamy, detraction, will almost effect as much, and that a long time after. Hipponax, a satirical poet, so vilified and lashed two painters in his iambics, ut ambo laqueo se suffocarent, [2379]Pliny saith, both hanged themselves. All oppositions, dangers, perplexities, discontents, [2380]to live in any suspense, are of the same rank: potes hoc sub casu ducere somnos? Who can be secure in such cases? Ill-bestowed benefits, ingratitude, unthankful friends, much disquiet and molest some. Unkind speeches trouble as many; uncivil carriage or dogged answers, weak women above the rest, if they proceed from their surly husbands, are as bitter as gall, and not to be digested. A glassman's wife in Basil became melancholy because her husband said he would marry again if she died. No cut to unkindness, as the saying is, a frown and hard speech, ill respect, a browbeating, or bad look, especially to courtiers, or such as attend upon great persons, is present death: Ingenium vultu statque caditque suo, they ebb and flow with their masters' favours. Some persons are at their wits' ends, if by chance they overshoot themselves, in their ordinary speeches, or actions, which may after turn to their disadvantage or disgrace, or have any secret disclosed. Ronseus epist. miscel. 2, reports of a gentlewoman 25 years old, that falling foul with one of her gossips, was upbraided with a secret infirmity (no matter what) in public, and so much grieved with it, that she did thereupon solitudines quaerere omnes ab se ablegare, ac tandem in gravissimam incidens melancholiam, contabescere, forsake all company, quite moped, and in a melancholy humour pine away. Others are as much tortured to see themselves rejected, contemned, scorned, disabled, defamed, detracted, undervalued, or [2381]left behind their fellows. Lucian brings in Aetamacles, a philosopher in his Lapith. convivio, much discontented that he was not invited amongst the rest, expostulating the matter, in a long epistle, with Aristenetus their host. Praetextatus, a robed gentleman in Plutarch, would not sit down at a feast, because he might not sit highest, but went his ways all in a chafe. We see the common quarrelings, that are ordinary with us, for taking of the wall, precedency, and the like, which though toys in themselves, and things of no moment, yet they cause many distempers, much heart-burning amongst us. Nothing pierceth deeper than a contempt or disgrace, [2382]especially if they be generous spirits, scarce anything affects them more than to be despised or vilified. Crato, consil. 16, l. 2, exemplifies it, and common experience confirms it. Of the same nature is oppression, Ecclus. 77, surely oppression makes a man mad, loss of liberty, which made Brutus venture his life, Cato kill himself, and [2383]Tully complain, Omnem hilaritatem in perpetuum amisi, mine heart's broken, I shall never look up, or be merry again, [2384]haec jactura intolerabilis, to some parties 'tis a most intolerable loss. Banishment a great misery, as Tyrteus describes it in an epigram of his,

Nam miserum est patria amissa, laribusque vagari Mendicum, et timida voce rogare cibos:

Omnibus invisus, quocunque accesserit exul Semper erit, semper spretus egensque jacet, &c.

A miserable thing 'tis so to wander, And like a beggar for to whine at door,

Contemn'd of all the world, an exile is, Hated, rejected, needy still and poor.

Polynices in his conference with Jocasta in [2385]Euripides, reckons up five miseries of a banished man, the least of which alone were enough to deject some pusillanimous creatures. Oftentimes a too great feeling of our own infirmities or imperfections of body or mind, will shrivel us up; as if we be long sick: O beata sanitas, te praesente, amaenum Ver florit gratiis, absque te nemo beatus:

O blessed health! thou art above all gold and treasure, Ecclus. xxx. 15, the poor man's riches, the rich man's bliss, without thee there can be no happiness: or visited with some loathsome disease, offensive to others, or troublesome to ourselves; as a stinking breath, deformity of our limbs, crookedness, loss of an eye, leg, hand, paleness, leanness, redness, baldness, loss or want of hair, &c., hic ubi fluere caepit, diros ictus cordi infert, saith [2386]Synesius, he himself troubled not a little ob comae defectum, the loss of hair alone, strikes a cruel stroke to the heart. Acco, an old woman, seeing by chance her face in a true glass (for she used false flattering glasses belike at other times, as most gentlewomen do,) animi dolore in insaniam delapsa est, (Caelius Rhodiginus l. 17, c. 2,) ran mad. [2387]Brotheus, the son of Vulcan, because he was ridiculous for his imperfections, flung himself into the fire. Lais of Corinth, now grown old, gave up her glass to Venus, for she could not abide to look upon it. [2388]Qualis sum nolo, qualis eram nequeo. Generally to fair nice pieces, old age and foul linen are two most odious things, a torment of torments, they may not abide the thought of it, [2389]———o deorum Quisquis haec audis, utinam inter errem

Nuda leones,

Antequam turpis macies decentes Occupet malas, teneraeque succus Defluat praedae, speciosa quaerro

Pascere tigres.

Hear me, some gracious heavenly power, Let lions dire this naked corse devour. My cheeks ere hollow wrinkles seize. Ere yet their rosy bloom decays: While youth yet rolls its vital flood, Let tigers friendly riot in my blood.

To be foul, ugly, and deformed, much better be buried alive. Some are fair but barren, and that galls them. Hannah wept sore, did not eat, and was troubled in spirit, and all for her barrenness, 1 Sam. 1. and Gen. 30. Rachel said in the anguish of her soul, give me a child, or I shall die: another hath too many: one was never married, and that's his hell, another is, and that's his plague. Some are troubled in that they are obscure; others by being traduced, slandered, abused, disgraced, vilified, or any way injured: minime miror eos (as he said) qui insanire occipiunt ex injuria, I marvel not at all if offences make men mad. Seventeen particular causes of anger and offence Aristotle reckons them up, which for brevity's sake I must omit. No tidings troubles one; ill reports, rumours, bad tidings or news, hard hap, ill success, cast in a suit, vain hopes, or hope deferred, another: expectation, adeo omnibus in rebus molesta semper est expectatio, as [2390]Polybius observes; one is too eminent, another too base born, and that alone tortures him as much as the rest: one is out of action, company, employment; another overcome and tormented with worldly cares, and onerous business. But what [2391]tongue can suffice to speak of all? Many men catch this malady by eating certain meats, herbs, roots, at unawares; as henbane, nightshade, cicuta, mandrakes, &c. [2392]A company of young men at Agrigentum in Sicily, came into a tavern; where after they had freely taken their liquor, whether it were the wine itself, or something mixed with it 'tis not yet known, [2393]but upon a sudden they began to be so troubled in their brains, and their phantasy so crazed, that they thought they were in a ship at sea, and now ready to be cast away by reason of a tempest. Wherefore to avoid shipwreck and present drowning, they flung all the goods in the house out at the windows into the street, or into the sea, as they supposed; thus they continued mad a pretty season, and being brought before the magistrate to give an account of this their fact, they told him (not yet recovered of their madness) that what was done they did for fear of death, and to avoid imminent danger: the spectators were all amazed at this their stupidity, and gazed on them still, whilst one of the ancientest of the company, in a grave tone, excused himself to the magistrate upon his knees, O viri Tritones, ego in imo jacui, I beseech your deities, &c. for I was in the bottom of the ship all the while: another besought them as so many sea gods to be good unto them, and if ever he and his fellows came to land again, [2394]he would build an altar to their service. The magistrate could not sufficiently laugh at this their madness, bid them sleep it out, and so went his ways. Many such accidents frequently happen, upon these unknown occasions. Some are so caused by philters, wandering in the sun, biting of a mad dog, a blow on the head, stinging with that kind of spider called tarantula, an ordinary thing if we may believe Skeuck. l. 6. de Venenis, in Calabria and Apulia in Italy, Cardan, subtil. l. 9. Scaliger exercitat. 185. Their symptoms are merrily described by Jovianus Pontanus, Ant. dial. how they dance altogether, and are cured by music. [2395]Cardan speaks of certain stones, if they be carried about one, which will cause melancholy and madness; he calls them unhappy, as an [2396]adamant, selenites, &c. which dry up the body, increase cares, diminish sleep: Ctesias in Persicis, makes mention of a well in those parts, of which if any man drink, [2397]he is mad for 24 hours. Some lose their wits by terrible objects (as elsewhere I have more [2398]copiously dilated) and life itself many times, as Hippolitus affrighted by Neptune's seahorses, Athemas by Juno's furies: but these relations are common in all writers. [2399]Hic alias poteram, et plures subnectere causas, Sed jumenta vocant, et Sol inclinat, Eundum est.

Many such causes, much more could I say, But that for provender my cattle stay: The sun declines, and I must needs away.

These causes if they be considered, and come alone, I do easily yield, can do little of themselves, seldom, or apart (an old oak is not felled at a blow) though many times they are all sufficient every one: yet if they concur, as often they do, vis unita fortior; et quae non obsunt singula, multa nocent, they may batter a strong constitution; as [2400]Austin said, many grains and small sands sink a ship, many small drops make a flood, &c., often reiterated; many dispositions produce an habit.

MEMB. V.

SUBSECT. I.—Continent, inward, antecedent, next causes and how the body works on the mind.

As a purlieu hunter, I have hitherto beaten about the circuit of the forest of this microcosm, and followed only those outward adventitious causes. I will now break into the inner rooms, and rip up the antecedent immediate causes which are there to be found. For as the distraction of the mind, amongst other outward causes and perturbations, alters the temperature of the body, so the distraction and distemper of the body will cause a distemperature of the soul, and 'tis hard to decide which of these two do more harm to the other. Plato, Cyprian, and some others, as I have formerly said, lay the greatest fault upon the soul, excusing the body; others again accusing the body, excuse the soul, as a principal agent. Their reasons are, because [2401]the manners do follow the temperature of the body, as Galen proves in his book of that subject, Prosper Calenius de Atra bile, Jason Pratensis c. de Mania, Lemnius l. 4. c. 16. and many others. And that which Gualter hath commented, hom. 10. in epist. Johannis, is most true, concupiscence and originals in, inclinations, and bad humours, are [2402]radical in every one of us, causing these perturbations, affections, and several distempers, offering many times violence unto the soul. Every man is tempted by his own concupiscence (James i. 14), the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, and rebelleth against the spirit, as our [2403]apostle teacheth us: that methinks the soul hath the better plea against the body, which so forcibly inclines us, that we cannot resist, Nec nos obniti contra, nec tendere tantum sufficimus. How the body being material, worketh upon the immaterial soul, by mediation of humours and spirits, which participate of both, and ill-disposed organs, Cornelius Agrippa hath discoursed lib. 1. de occult. Philos. cap. 63, 64, 65. Levinus Lemnius lib. 1. de occult. nat. mir. cap. 12. et 16. et 21. institut. ad opt. vit. Perkins lib. 1. Cases of Cons. cap. 12. T. Bright c. 10, 11, 12. in his treatise of melancholy, for as, [2404] anger, fear, sorrow, obtrectation, emulation, &c. si mentis intimos recessus occuparint, saith [2405]Lemnius, corpori quoque infesta sunt, et illi teterrimos morbos inferunt, cause grievous diseases in the body, so bodily diseases affect the soul by consent. Now the chiefest causes proceed from the [2406]heart, humours, spirits: as they are purer, or impurer, so is the mind, and equally suffers, as a lute out of tune, if one string or one organ be distempered, all the rest miscarry, [2407]corpus onustum hesternis vitiis, animum quoque praegravat una. The body is domicilium animae, her house, abode, and stay; and as a torch gives a better light, a sweeter smell, according to the matter it is made of; so doth our soul perform all her actions, better or worse, as her organs are disposed; or as wine savours of the cask wherein it is kept; the soul receives a tincture from the body, through which it works. We see this in old men, children, Europeans; Asians, hot and cold climes; sanguine are merry, melancholy sad, phlegmatic dull, by reason of abundance of those humours, and they cannot resist such passions which are inflicted by them. For in this infirmity of human nature, as Melancthon declares, the understanding is so tied to, and captivated by his inferior senses, that without their help he cannot exercise his functions, and the will being weakened, hath but a small power to restrain those outward parts, but suffers herself to be overruled by them; that I must needs conclude with Lemnius, spiritus et humores maximum nocumentum obtinent, spirits and humours do most harm in [2408]troubling the soul. How should a man choose but be choleric and angry, that hath his body so clogged with abundance of gross humours? or melancholy, that is so inwardly disposed? That thence comes then this malady, madness, apoplexies, lethargies, &c. it may not be denied. Now this body of ours is most part distempered by some precedent diseases, which molest his inward organs and instruments, and so per consequens cause melancholy, according to the consent of the most approved physicians. [2409]This humour (as Avicenna l. 3. Fen. 1. Tract. 4. c. 18. Arnoldus breviar. l. 1. c. 18. Jacchinus comment. in 9 Rhasis, c. 15. Montaltus, c. 10. Nicholas Piso c. de Melan. &c. suppose) is begotten by the distemperature of some inward part, innate, or left after some inflammation, or else included in the blood after an [2410]ague, or some other malignant disease. This opinion of theirs concurs with that of Galen, l. 3. c. 6. de locis affect. Guianerius gives an instance in one so caused by a quartan ague, and Montanus consil. 32. in a young man of twenty-eight years of age, so distempered after a quartan, which had molested him five years together; Hildesheim spicel. 2. de Mania, relates of a Dutch baron, grievously tormented with melancholy after a long [2411]ague: Galen, l. de atra bile, c. 4. puts the plague a cause. Botaldus in his book de lue vener. c. 2. the French pox for a cause, others, frenzy, epilepsy, apoplexy, because those diseases do often degenerate into this. Of suppression of haemorrhoids, haemorrhagia, or bleeding at the nose, menstruous retentions, (although they deserve a larger explication, as being the sole cause of a proper kind of melancholy, in more ancient maids, nuns and widows, handled apart by Rodericus a Castro, and Mercatus, as I have elsewhere signified,) or any other evacuation stopped, I have already spoken. Only this I will add, that this melancholy which shall be caused by such infirmities, deserves to be pitied of all men, and to be respected with a more tender compassion, according to Laurentius, as coming from a more inevitable cause.

SUBSECT. II.—Distemperature of particular Parts, causes.

There is almost no part of the body, which being distempered, doth not cause this malady, as the brain and his parts, heart, liver, spleen, stomach, matrix or womb, pylorus, mirach, mesentery, hypochondries, mesaraic veins; and in a word, saith [2412]Arculanus, there is no part which causeth not melancholy, either because it is adust, or doth not expel the superfluity of the nutriment. Savanarola Pract. major. rubric. 11. Tract. 6. cap. 1. is of the same opinion, that melancholy is engendered in each particular part, and [2413]Crato in consil. 17. lib. 2. Gordonius, who is instar omnium, lib. med. partic. 2. cap. 19. confirms as much, putting the [2414]matter of melancholy, sometimes in the stomach, liver, heart, brain, spleen, mirach, hypochondries, when as the melancholy humour resides there, or the liver is not well cleansed from melancholy blood. The brain is a familiar and frequent cause, too hot, or too cold, [2415] through adust blood so caused, as Mercurialis will have it, within or without the head, the brain itself being distempered. Those are most apt to this disease, [2416]that have a hot heart and moist brain, which Montaltus cap. 11. de Melanch. approves out of Halyabbas, Rhasis, and Avicenna. Mercurialis consil. 11. assigns the coldness of the brain a cause, and Salustius Salvianus med. lect. l. 2. c. 1. [2417]will have it arise from a cold and dry distemperature of the brain. Piso, Benedictus Victorius Faventinus, will have it proceed from a [2418]hot distemperature of the brain; and [2419]Montaltus cap. 10. from the brain's heat, scorching the blood. The brain is still distempered by himself, or by consent: by himself or his proper affection, as Faventinus calls it, [2420]or by vapours which arise from the other parts, and fume up into the head, altering the animal facilities. Hildesheim spicel. 2. de Mania, thinks it may be caused from a [2421] distemperature of the heart; sometimes hot; sometimes cold. A hot liver, and a cold stomach, are put for usual causes of melancholy: Mercurialis consil. 11. et consil. 6. consil. 86. assigns a hot liver and cold stomach for ordinary causes. [2422]Monavius, in an epistle of his to Crato in Scoltzius, is of opinion, that hypochondriacal melancholy may proceed from a cold liver; the question is there discussed. Most agree that a hot liver is in fault; [2423]the liver is the shop of humours, and especially causeth melancholy by his hot and dry distemperature. [2424]The stomach and mesaraic veins do often concur, by reason of their obstructions, and thence their heat cannot be avoided, and many times the matter is so adust and inflamed in those parts, that it degenerates into hypochondriacal melancholy. Guianerius c. 2. Tract. 15. holds the mesaraic veins to be a sufficient [2425]cause alone. The spleen concurs to this malady, by all their consents, and suppression of haemorrhoids, dum non expurget alter a causa lien, saith Montaltus, if it be [2426]too cold and dry, and do not purge the other parts as it ought, consil. 23. Montanus puts the [2427] spleen stopped for a great cause. [2428]Christophorus a Vega reports of his knowledge, that he hath known melancholy caused from putrefied blood in those seed-veins and womb; [2429]Arculanus, from that menstruous blood turned into melancholy, and seed too long detained (as I have already declared) by putrefaction or adustion. The mesenterium, or midriff, diaphragma, is a cause which the [2430]Greeks called φρένας: because by his inflammation, the mind is much troubled with convulsions and dotage. All these, most part, offend by inflammation, corrupting humours and spirits, in this non-natural melancholy: for from these are engendered fuliginous and black spirits. And for that reason [2431]Montaltus cap. 10. de causis melan. will have the efficient cause of melancholy to be hot and dry, not a cold and dry distemperature, as some hold, from the heat of the brain, roasting the blood, immoderate heat of the liver and bowels, and inflammation of the pylorus. And so much the rather, because that, as Galen holds, all spices inflame the blood, solitariness, waking, agues, study, meditation, all which heat: and therefore he concludes that this distemperature causing adventitious melancholy is not cold and dry, but hot and dry. But of this I have sufficiently treated in the matter of melancholy, and hold that this may be true in non-natural melancholy, which produceth madness, but not in that natural, which is more cold, and being immoderate, produceth a gentle dotage. [2432]Which opinion Geraldus de Solo maintains in his comment upon Rhasis.

SUBSECT. III.—Causes of Head-Melancholy.

After a tedious discourse of the general causes of melancholy, I am now returned at last to treat in brief of the three particular species, and such causes as properly appertain unto them. Although these causes promiscuously concur to each and every particular kind, and commonly produce their effects in that part which is most ill-disposed, and least able to resist, and so cause all three species, yet many of them are proper to some one kind, and seldom found in the rest. As for example, head-melancholy is commonly caused by a cold or hot distemperature of the brain, according to Laurentius cap. 5 de melan. but as [2433]Hercules de Saxonia contends, from that agitation or distemperature of the animal spirits alone. Salust. Salvianus, before mentioned, lib. 2. cap. 3. de re med. will have it proceed from cold: but that I take of natural melancholy, such as are fools and dote: for as Galen writes lib. 4. de puls. 8. and Avicenna, [2434]a cold and moist brain is an inseparable companion of folly. But this adventitious melancholy which is here meant, is caused of a hot and dry distemperature, as [2435]Damascen the Arabian lib. 3. cap. 22. thinks, and most writers: Altomarus and Piso call it [2436]an innate burning intemperateness, turning blood and choler into melancholy. Both these opinions may stand good, as Bruel maintains, and Capivaccius, si cerebrum sit calidius, [2437]if the brain be hot, the animal spirits will be hot, and thence comes madness; if cold, folly. David Crusius Theat. morb. Hermet. lib. 2. cap. 6. de atra bile, grants melancholy to be a disease of an inflamed brain, but cold notwithstanding of itself: calida per accidens, frigida per se, hot by accident only; I am of Capivaccius' mind for my part. Now this humour, according to Salvianus, is sometimes in the substance of the brain, sometimes contained in the membranes and tunicles that cover the brain, sometimes in the passages of the ventricles of the brain, or veins of those ventricles. It follows many times [2438]frenzy, long diseases, agues, long abode in hot places, or under the sun, a blow on the head, as Rhasis informeth us: Piso adds solitariness, waking, inflammations of the head, proceeding most part [2439]from much use of spices, hot wines, hot meats: all which Montanus reckons up consil. 22. for a melancholy Jew; and Heurnius repeats cap. 12. de Mania: hot baths, garlic, onions, saith Guianerius, bad air, corrupt, much [2440]waking, &c., retention of seed or abundance, stopping of haemorrhagia, the midriff misaffected; and according to Trallianus l. 1. 16. immoderate cares, troubles, griefs, discontent, study, meditation, and, in a word, the abuse of all those six non-natural things. Hercules de Saxonia, cap. 16. lib. 1. will have it caused from a [2441]cautery, or boil dried up, or an issue. Amatus Lusitanus cent. 2. cura. 67. gives instance in a fellow that had a hole in his arm, [2442]after that was healed, ran mad, and when the wound was open, he was cured again. Trincavellius consil. 13. lib. 1. hath an example of a melancholy man so caused by overmuch continuance in the sun, frequent use of venery, and immoderate exercise: and in his cons. 49. lib. 3. from a [2443]headpiece overheated, which caused head-melancholy. Prosper Calenus brings in Cardinal Caesius for a pattern of such as are so melancholy by long study; but examples are infinite.

SUBSECT. IV.—Causes of Hypochondriacal, or Windy Melancholy.

In repeating of these causes, I must crambem bis coctam apponere, say that again which I have formerly said, in applying them to their proper species. Hypochondriacal or flatuous melancholy, is that which the Arabians call mirachial, and is in my judgment the most grievous and frequent, though Bruel and Laurentius make it least dangerous, and not so hard to be known or cured. His causes are inward or outward. Inward from divers parts or organs, as midriff, spleen, stomach, liver, pylorus, womb, diaphragma, mesaraic veins, stopping of issues, &c. Montaltus cap. 15. out of Galen recites, [2444]heat and obstruction of those mesaraic veins, as an immediate cause, by which means the passage of the chilus to the liver is detained, stopped or corrupted, and turned into rumbling and wind. Montanus, consil. 233, hath an evident demonstration, Trincavelius another, lib. 1, cap. 1, and Plater a third, observat. lib. 1, for a doctor of the law visited with this infirmity, from the said obstruction and heat of these mesaraic veins, and bowels; quoniam inter ventriculum et jecur venae effervescunt, the veins are inflamed about the liver and stomach. Sometimes those other parts are together misaffected; and concur to the production of this malady: a hot liver and cold stomach, or cold belly: look for instances in Hollerius, Victor Trincavelius, consil. 35, l. 3, Hildesheim Spicel. 2, fol. 132, Solenander consil. 9, pro cive Lugdunensi, Montanus consil. 229, for the Earl of Montfort in Germany, 1549, and Frisimelica in the 233 consultation of the said Montanus. I. Caesar Claudinus gives instance of a cold stomach and over-hot liver, almost in every consultation, con. 89, for a certain count; and con. 106, for a Polonian baron, by reason of heat the blood is inflamed, and gross vapours sent to the heart and brain. Mercurialis subscribes to them, cons. 89, [2445]the stomach being misaffected, which he calls the king of the belly, because if he be distempered, all the rest suffer with him, as being deprived of their nutriment, or fed with bad nourishment, by means of which come crudities, obstructions, wind, rumbling, griping, &c. Hercules de Saxonia, besides heat, will have the weakness of the liver and his obstruction a cause, facultatem debilem jecinoris, which he calls the mineral of melancholy. Laurentius assigns this reason, because the liver over-hot draws the meat undigested out of the stomach, and burneth the humours. Montanus, cons. 244, proves that sometimes a cold liver may be a cause. Laurentius c. 12, Trincavelius lib. 12, consil., and Gualter Bruel, seems to lay the greatest fault upon the spleen, that doth not his duty in purging the liver as he ought, being too great, or too little, in drawing too much blood sometimes to it, and not expelling it, as P. Cnemiandrus in a [2446]consultation of his noted tumorem lienis, he names it, and the fountain of melancholy. Diocles supposed the ground of this kind of melancholy to proceed from the inflammation of the pylorus, which is the nether mouth of the ventricle. Others assign the mesenterium or midriff distempered by heat, the womb misaffected, stopping of haemorrhoids, with many such. All which Laurentius, cap. 12, reduceth to three, mesentery, liver, and spleen, from whence he denominates hepatic, splenetic, and mesaraic melancholy. Outward causes, are bad diet, care, griefs, discontents, and in a word all those six non-natural things, as Montanus found by his experience, consil. 244. Solenander consil. 9, for a citizen of Lyons, in France, gives his reader to understand, that he knew this mischief procured by a medicine of cantharides, which an unskilful physician ministered his patient to drink ad venerem excitandam. But most commonly fear, grief, and some sudden commotion, or perturbation of the mind, begin it, in such bodies especially as are ill-disposed. Melancthon, tract. 14, cap. 2, de anima, will have it as common to men, as the mother to women, upon some grievous trouble, dislike, passion, or discontent. For as Camerarius records in his life, Melancthon himself was much troubled with it, and therefore could speak out of experience. Montanus, consil. 22, pro delirante Judaeo, confirms it, [2447]grievous symptoms of the mind brought him to it. Randolotius relates of himself, that being one day very intent to write out a physician's notes, molested by an occasion, he fell into a hypochondriacal fit, to avoid which he drank the decoction of wormwood, and was freed. [2448]Melancthon (being the disease is so troublesome and frequent) holds it a most necessary and profitable study, for every man to know the accidents of it, and a dangerous thing to be ignorant, and would therefore have all men in some sort to understand the causes, symptoms, and cures of it.

SUBSECT. V.—Causes of Melancholy from the whole Body.

As before, the cause of this kind of melancholy is inward or outward. Inward, [2449]when the liver is apt to engender such a humour, or the spleen weak by nature, and not able to discharge his office. A melancholy temperature, retention of haemorrhoids, monthly issues, bleeding at nose, long diseases, agues, and all those six non-natural things increase it. But especially [2450]bad diet, as Piso thinks, pulse, salt meat, shellfish, cheese, black wine, &c. Mercurialis out of Averroes and Avicenna condemns all herbs: Galen, lib. 3, de loc. affect. cap. 7, especially cabbage. So likewise fear, sorrow, discontents, &c., but of these before. And thus in brief you have had the general and particular causes of melancholy. Now go and brag of thy present happiness, whosoever thou art, brag of thy temperature, of thy good parts, insult, triumph, and boast; thou seest in what a brittle state thou art, how soon thou mayst be dejected, how many several ways, by bad diet, bad air, a small loss, a little sorrow or discontent, an ague, &c.; how many sudden accidents may procure thy ruin, what a small tenure of happiness thou hast in this life, how weak and silly a creature thou art. Humble thyself, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, 1 Peter, v. 6, know thyself, acknowledge thy present misery, and make right use of it. Qui stat videat ne cadat. Thou dost now flourish, and hast bona animi, corporis, et fortunae, goods of body, mind, and fortune, nescis quid serus secum vesper ferat, thou knowest not what storms and tempests the late evening may bring with it. Be not secure then, be sober and watch, [2451]fortunam reverenter habe, if fortunate and rich; if sick and poor, moderate thyself. I have said.

SECT. III. MEMB. I.

SUBSECT. I.—Symptoms, or Signs of Melancholy in the Body.

Parrhasius, a painter of Athens, amongst those Olynthian captives Philip of Macedon brought home to sell, [2452]bought one very old man; and when he had him at Athens, put him to extreme torture and torment, the better by his example to express the pains and passions of his Prometheus, whom he was then about to paint. I need not be so barbarous, inhuman, curious, or cruel, for this purpose to torture any poor melancholy man, their symptoms are plain, obvious and familiar, there needs no such accurate observation or far-fetched object, they delineate themselves, they voluntarily betray themselves, they are too frequent in all places, I meet them still as I go, they cannot conceal it, their grievances are too well known, I need not seek far to describe them. Symptoms therefore are either [2453]universal or particular, saith Gordonius, lib. med. cap. 19, part. 2, to persons, to species; some signs are secret, some manifest, some in the body, some in the mind, and diversely vary, according to the inward or outward causes, Capivaccius: or from stars, according to Jovianus Pontanus, de reb. caelest. lib. 10, cap. 13, and celestial influences, or from the humours diversely mixed, Ficinus, lib. 1, cap. 4, de sanit. tuenda: as they are hot, cold, natural, unnatural, intended, or remitted, so will Aetius have melancholica deliria multiformia, diversity of melancholy signs. Laurentius ascribes them to their several temperatures, delights, natures, inclinations, continuance of time, as they are simple or mixed with other diseases, as the causes are divers, so must the signs be, almost infinite, Altomarus cap. 7, art. med. And as wine produceth divers effects, or that herb Tortocolla in [2454]Laurentius, which makes some laugh, some weep, some sleep, some dance, some sing, some howl, some drink, &c. so doth this our melancholy humour work several signs in several parties. But to confine them, these general symptoms may be reduced to those of the body or the mind. Those usual signs appearing in the bodies of such as are melancholy, be these cold and dry, or they are hot and dry, as the humour is more or less adust. From [2455]these first qualities arise many other second, as that of [2456]colour, black, swarthy, pale, ruddy, &c., some are impense rubri, as Montaltus cap. 16 observes out of Galen, lib. 3, de locis affectis, very red and high coloured. Hippocrates in his book [2457]de insania et melan. reckons up these signs, that they are [2458] lean, withered, hollow-eyed, look old, wrinkled, harsh, much troubled with wind, and a griping in their bellies, or bellyache, belch often, dry bellies and hard, dejected looks, flaggy beards, singing of the ears, vertigo, light-headed, little or no sleep, and that interrupt, terrible and fearful dreams, [2459]Anna soror, quae, me suspensam insomnia terrent? The same symptoms are repeated by Melanelius in his book of melancholy collected out of Galen, Ruffus, Aetius, by Rhasis, Gordonius, and all the juniors, [2460]continual, sharp, and stinking belchings, as if their meat in their stomachs were putrefied, or that they had eaten fish, dry bellies, absurd and interrupt dreams, and many fantastical visions about their eyes, vertiginous, apt to tremble, and prone to venery. [2461]Some add palpitation of the heart, cold sweat, as usual symptoms, and a leaping in many parts of the body, saltum in multis corporis partibus, a kind of itching, saith Laurentius, on the superficies of the skin, like a flea-biting sometimes. [2462]Montaltus cap. 21. puts fixed eyes and much twinkling of their eyes for a sign, and so doth Avicenna, oculos habentes palpitantes, trauli, vehementer rubicundi, &c., lib. 3. Fen. 1. Tract. 4. cap. 18. They stut most part, which he took out of Hippocrates' aphorisms. [2463]Rhasis makes headache and a binding heaviness for a principal token, much leaping of wind about the skin, as well as stutting, or tripping in speech, &c., hollow eyes, gross veins, and broad lips. To some too, if they be far gone, mimical gestures are too familiar, laughing, grinning, fleering, murmuring, talking to themselves, with strange mouths and faces, inarticulate voices, exclamations, &c. And although they be commonly lean, hirsute, uncheerful in countenance, withered, and not so pleasant to behold, by reason of those continual fears, griefs, and vexations, dull, heavy, lazy, restless, unapt to go about any business; yet their memories are most part good, they have happy wits, and excellent apprehensions. Their hot and dry brains make them they cannot sleep, Ingentes habent et crebras vigilias (Arteus) mighty and often watchings, sometimes waking for a month, a year together. [2464]Hercules de Saxonia faithfully averreth, that he hath heard his mother swear, she slept not for seven months together: Trincavelius, Tom. 2. cons. 16. speaks of one that waked 50 days, and Skenkius hath examples of two years, and all without offence. In natural actions their appetite is greater than their concoction, multa appetunt pauca digerunt as Rhasis hath it, they covet to eat, but cannot digest. And although they [2465]do eat much, yet they are lean, ill-liking, saith Areteus, withered and hard, much troubled with costiveness, crudities, oppilations, spitting, belching, &c. Their pulse is rare and slow, except it be of the [2466]Carotides, which is very strong; but that varies according to their intended passions or perturbations, as Struthius hath proved at large, Spigmaticae. artis l. 4. c. 13. To say truth, in such chronic diseases the pulse is not much to be respected, there being so much superstition in it, as [2467]Crato notes, and so many differences in Galen, that he dares say they may not be observed, or understood of any man. Their urine is most part pale, and low coloured, urina pauca acris, biliosa (Areteus), not much in quantity; but this, in my judgment, is all out as uncertain as the other, varying so often according to several persons, habits, and other occasions not to be respected in chronic diseases. [2468]Their melancholy excrements in some very much, in others little, as the spleen plays his part, and thence proceeds wind, palpitation of the heart, short breath, plenty of humidity in the stomach, heaviness of heart and heartache, and intolerable stupidity and dullness of spirits. Their excrements or stool hard, black to some and little. If the heart, brain, liver, spleen, be misaffected, as usually they are, many inconveniences proceed from them, many diseases accompany, as incubus, [2469]apoplexy, epilepsy, vertigo, those frequent wakings and terrible dreams, [2470]intempestive laughing, weeping, sighing, sobbing, bashfulness, blushing, trembling, sweating, swooning, &c. [2471]All their senses are troubled, they think they see, hear, smell, and touch that which they do not, as shall be proved in the following discourse.

SUBSECT. II.—Symptoms or Signs in the Mind.

Fear.] Arculanus in 9. Rhasis ad Almansor. cap. 16. will have these symptoms to be infinite, as indeed they are, varying according to the parties, for scarce is there one of a thousand that dotes alike, [2472] Laurentius c. 16. Some few of greater note I will point at; and amongst the rest, fear and sorrow, which as they are frequent causes, so if they persevere long, according to Hippocrates [2473]and Galen's aphorisms, they are most assured signs, inseparable companions, and characters of melancholy; of present melancholy and habituated, saith Montaltus cap. 11. and common to them all, as the said Hippocrates, Galen, Avicenna, and all Neoterics hold. But as hounds many times run away with a false cry, never perceiving themselves to be at a fault, so do they. For Diocles of old, (whom Galen confutes,) and amongst the juniors, [2474]Hercules de Saxonia, with Lod. Mercatus cap. 17. l. 1. de melan., takes just exceptions, at this aphorism of Hippocrates, 'tis not always true, or so generally to be understood, fear and sorrow are no common symptoms to all melancholy; upon more serious consideration, I find some (saith he) that are not so at all. Some indeed are sad, and not fearful; some fearful and not sad; some neither fearful nor sad; some both. Four kinds he excepts, fanatical persons, such as were Cassandra, Nanto, Nicostrata, Mopsus, Proteus, the sibyls, whom [2475]Aristotle confesseth to have been deeply melancholy. Baptista Porta seconds him, Physiog. lib. 1, cap. 8, they were atra bile perciti: demoniacal persons, and such as speak strange languages, are of this rank: some poets, such as laugh always, and think themselves kings, cardinals, &c., sanguine they are, pleasantly disposed most part, and so continue. [2476]Baptista Portia confines fear and sorrow to them that are cold; but lovers, Sibyls, enthusiasts, he wholly excludes. So that I think I may truly conclude, they are not always sad and fearful, but usually so: and that [2477]without a cause, timent de non timendis, (Gordonius,) quaeque momenti non sunt, although not all alike (saith Altomarus), [2478]yet all likely fear, [2479]some with an extraordinary and a mighty fear, Areteus. [2480]Many fear death, and yet in a contrary humour, make away themselves, Galen, lib. 3. de loc. affec. cap. 7. Some are afraid that heaven will fall on their heads: some they are damned, or shall be. [2481]They are troubled with scruples of consciences, distrusting God's mercies, think they shall go certainly to hell, the devil will have them, and make great lamentation, Jason Pratensis. Fear of devils, death, that they shall be so sick, of some such or such disease, ready to tremble at every object, they shall die themselves forthwith, or that some of their dear friends or near allies are certainly dead; imminent danger, loss, disgrace still torment others, &c.; that they are all glass, and therefore will suffer no man to come near them: that they are all cork, as light as feathers; others as heavy as lead; some are afraid their heads will fall off their shoulders, that they have frogs in their bellies, &c. [2482]Montanus consil. 23, speaks of one that durst not walk alone from home, for fear he should swoon or die. A second [2483]fears every man he meets will rob him, quarrel with him, or kill him. A third dares not venture to walk alone, for fear he should meet the devil, a thief, be sick; fears all old women as witches, and every black dog or cat he sees he suspecteth to be a devil, every person comes near him is maleficiated, every creature, all intend to hurt him, seek his ruin; another dares not go over a bridge, come near a pool, rock, steep hill, lie in a chamber where cross beams are, for fear he be tempted to hang, drown, or precipitate himself. If he be in a silent auditory, as at a sermon, he is afraid he shall speak aloud at unawares, something indecent, unfit to be said. If he be locked in a close room, he is afraid of being stifled for want of air, and still carries biscuit, aquavitae, or some strong waters about him, for fear of deliquiums, or being sick; or if he be in a throng, middle of a church, multitude, where he may not well get out, though he sit at ease, he is so misaffected. He will freely promise, undertake any business beforehand, but when it comes to be performed, he dare not adventure, but fears an infinite number of dangers, disasters, &c. Some are [2484] afraid to be burned, or that the [2485]ground will sink under them, or [2486]swallow them quick, or that the king will call them in question for some fact they never did (Rhasis cont.) and that they shall surely be executed. The terror of such a death troubles them, and they fear as much and are equally tormented in mind, [2487]as they that have committed a murder, and are pensive without a cause, as if they were now presently to be put to death. Plater, cap. 3. de mentis alienat. They are afraid of some loss, danger, that they shall surely lose their lives, goods, and all they have, but why they know not. Trincavelius, consil. 13. lib. 1. had a patient that would needs make away himself, for fear of being hanged, and could not be persuaded for three years together, but that he had killed a man. Plater, observat. lib. 1. hath two other examples of such as feared to be executed without a cause. If they come in a place where a robbery, theft, or any such offence hath been done, they presently fear they are suspected, and many times betray themselves without a cause. Lewis XI., the French king, suspected every man a traitor that came about him, durst trust no officer. Alii formidolosi omnium, alii quorundam (Fracatorius lib. 2. de Intellect.) [2488]some fear all alike, some certain men, and cannot endure their companies, are sick in them, or if they be from home. Some suspect [2489]treason still, others are afraid of their [2490]dearest and nearest friends. (Melanelius e Galeno, Ruffo, Aetio,) and dare not be alone in the dark for fear of hobgoblins and devils: he suspects everything he hears or sees to be a devil, or enchanted, and imagineth a thousand chimeras and visions, which to his thinking he certainly sees, bugbears, talks with black men, ghosts, goblins, &c., [2491]Omnes se terrent aurae, sonus excitat omnis. Another through bashfulness, suspicion, and timorousness will not be seen abroad, [2492]loves darkness as life, and cannot endure the light, or to sit in lightsome places, his hat still in his eyes, he will neither see nor be seen by his goodwill, Hippocrates, lib. de Insania et Melancholia. He dare not come in company for fear he should be misused, disgraced, overshoot himself in gesture or speeches, or be sick; he thinks every man observes him, aims at him, derides him, owes him malice. Most part [2493]they are afraid they are bewitched, possessed, or poisoned by their enemies, and sometimes they suspect their nearest friends: he thinks something speaks or talks within him, and he belcheth of the poison. Christophorus a Vega, lib. 2. cap. 1. had a patient so troubled, that by no persuasion or physic he could be reclaimed. Some are afraid that they shall have every fearful disease they see others have, hear of, or read, and dare not therefore hear or read of any such subject, no not of melancholy itself, lest by applying to themselves that which they hear or read, they should aggravate and increase it. If they see one possessed, bewitched, an epileptic paroxysm, a man shaking with the palsy, or giddy-headed, reeling or standing in a dangerous place, &c., for many days after it runs in their minds, they are afraid they shall be so too, they are in like danger, as Perkins c. 12. sc. 12. well observes in his Cases of Conscience and many times by violence of imagination they produce it. They cannot endure to see any terrible object, as a monster, a man executed, a carcase, hear the devil named, or any tragical relation seen, but they quake for fear, Hecatas somniare sibi videntur (Lucian) they dream of hobgoblins, and may not get it out of their minds a long time after: they apply (as I have said) all they hear, see, read, to themselves; as [2494]Felix Plater notes of some young physicians, that study to cure diseases, catch them themselves, will be sick, and appropriate all symptoms they find related of others, to their own persons. And therefore (quod iterum moneo, licet nauseam paret lectori, malo decem potius verba, decies repetita licet abundare, quam unum desiderari) I would advise him that is actually melancholy not to read this tract of Symptoms, lest he disquiet or make himself for a time worse, and more melancholy than he was before. Generally of them all take this, de inanibus semper conqueruntur et timent, saith Aretius; they complain of toys, and fear [2495]without a cause, and still think their melancholy to be most grievous, none so bad as they are, though it be nothing in respect, yet never any man sure was so troubled, or in this sort. As really tormented and perplexed, in as great an agony for toys and trifles (such things as they will after laugh at themselves) as if they were most material and essential matters indeed, worthy to be feared, and will not be satisfied. Pacify them for one, they are instantly troubled with some other fear; always afraid of something which they foolishly imagine or conceive to themselves, which never peradventure was, never can be, never likely will be; troubled in mind upon every small occasion, unquiet, still complaining, grieving, vexing, suspecting, grudging, discontent, and cannot be freed so long as melancholy continues. Or if their minds be more quiet for the present, and they free from foreign fears, outward accidents, yet their bodies are out of tune, they suspect some part or other to be amiss, now their head aches, heart, stomach, spleen, &c. is misaffected, they shall surely have this or that disease; still troubled in body, mind, or both, and through wind, corrupt fantasy, some accidental distemper, continually molested. Yet for all this, as [2496]Jacchinus notes, in all other things they are wise, staid, discreet, and do nothing unbeseeming their dignity, person, or place, this foolish, ridiculous, and childish fear excepted; which so much, so continually tortures and crucifies their souls, like a barking dog that always bawls, but seldom bites, this fear ever molesteth, and so long as melancholy lasteth, cannot be avoided. Sorrow is that other character, and inseparable companion, as individual as Saint Cosmus and Damian, fidus Achates, as all writers witness, a common symptom, a continual, and still without any evident cause, [2497]moerent omnes, et si roges eos reddere causam, non possunt: grieving still, but why they cannot tell: Agelasti, moesti, cogitabundi, they look as if they had newly come forth of Trophonius' den. And though they laugh many times, and seem to be extraordinary merry (as they will by fits), yet extreme lumpish again in an instant, dull and heavy, semel et simul, merry and sad, but most part sad: [2498]Si qua placent, abeunt; inimica tenacius haerent: sorrow sticks by them still continually, gnawing as the vulture did [2499]Titius' bowels, and they cannot avoid it. No sooner are their eyes open, but after terrible and troublesome dreams their heavy hearts begin to sigh: they are still fretting, chafing, sighing, grieving, complaining, finding faults, repining, grudging, weeping, Heautontimorumenoi, vexing themselves, [2500]disquieted in mind, with restless, unquiet thoughts, discontent, either for their own, other men's or public affairs, such as concern them not; things past, present, or to come, the remembrance of some disgrace, loss, injury, abuses, &c. troubles them now being idle afresh, as if it were new done; they are afflicted otherwise for some danger, loss, want, shame, misery, that will certainly come, as they suspect and mistrust. Lugubris Ate frowns upon them, insomuch that Areteus well calls it angorem animi, a vexation of the mind, a perpetual agony. They can hardly be pleased, or eased, though in other men's opinion most happy, go, tarry, run, ride, [2501]—post equitem sedet atra cura: they cannot avoid this feral plague, let them come in what company they will, [2502]haeret leteri lethalis arundo, as to a deer that is struck, whether he run, go, rest with the herd, or alone, this grief remains: irresolution, inconstancy, vanity of mind, their fear, torture, care, jealousy, suspicion, &c., continues, and they cannot be relieved. So [2503]he complained in the poet, Domum revertor moestus, atque animo fere Perturbato, atque incerto prae aegritudine, Assido, accurrunt servi: succos detrahunt, Video alios festinare, lectos sternere, Coenam apparare, pro se quisque sedulo Faciebant, quo illam mihi lenirent miseriam.

He came home sorrowful, and troubled in his mind, his servants did all they possibly could to please him; one pulled off his socks, another made ready his bed, a third his supper, all did their utmost endeavours to ease his grief, and exhilarate his person, he was profoundly melancholy, he had lost his son, illud angebat, that was his Cordolium, his pain, his agony which could not be removed. Taedium vitae.] Hence it proceeds many times, that they are weary of their lives, and feral thoughts to offer violence to their own persons come into their minds, taedium vitae is a common symptom, tarda fluunt, ingrataque tempora, they are soon tired with all things; they will now tarry, now be gone; now in bed they will rise, now up, then go to bed, now pleased, then again displeased; now they like, by and by dislike all, weary of all, sequitur nunc vivendi, nunc moriendi cupido, saith Aurelianus, lib. 1. cap. 6, but most part [2504]vitam damnant, discontent, disquieted, perplexed upon every light, or no occasion, object: often tempted, I say, to make away themselves: [2505]Vivere nolunt, mori nesciunt: they cannot die, they will not live: they complain, weep, lament, and think they lead a most miserable life, never was any man so bad, or so before, every poor man they see is most fortunate in respect of them, every beggar that comes to the door is happier than they are, they could be contented to change lives with them, especially if they be alone, idle, and parted from their ordinary company, molested, displeased, or provoked: grief, fear, agony, discontent, wearisomeness, laziness, suspicion, or some such passion forcibly seizeth on them. Yet by and by when they come in company again, which they like, or be pleased, suam sententiam rursus damnant, et vitae solatia delectantur, as Octavius Horatianus observes, lib. 2. cap. 5, they condemn their former mislike, and are well pleased to live. And so they continue, till with some fresh discontent they be molested again, and then they are weary of their lives, weary of all, they will die, and show rather a necessity to live, than a desire. Claudius the emperor, as [2506] Sueton describes him, had a spice of this disease, for when he was tormented with the pain of his stomach, he had a conceit to make away himself. Julius Caesar Claudinus, consil. 84. had a Polonian to his patient, so affected, that through [2507]fear and sorrow, with which he was still disquieted, hated his own life, wished for death every moment, and to be freed of his misery. Mercurialis another, and another that was often minded to despatch himself, and so continued for many years. Suspicion, Jealousy.] Suspicion, and jealousy, are general symptoms: they are commonly distrustful, apt to mistake, and amplify, facile irascibiles, [2508]testy, pettish, peevish, and ready to snarl upon every [2509]small occasion, cum amicissimis, and without a cause, datum vel non datum, it will be scandalum acceptum. If they speak in jest, he takes it in good earnest. If they be not saluted, invited, consulted with, called to counsel, &c., or that any respect, small compliment, or ceremony be omitted, they think themselves neglected, and contemned; for a time that tortures them. If two talk together, discourse, whisper, jest, or tell a tale in general, he thinks presently they mean him, applies all to himself, de se putat omnia dici. Or if they talk with him, he is ready to misconstrue every word they speak, and interpret it to the worst; he cannot endure any man to look steadily on him, speak to him almost, laugh, jest, or be familiar, or hem, or point, cough, or spit, or make a noise sometimes, &c. [2510]He thinks they laugh or point at him, or do it in disgrace of him, circumvent him, contemn him; every man looks at him, he is pale, red, sweats for fear and anger, lest somebody should observe him. He works upon it, and long after this false conceit of an abuse troubles him. Montanus consil. 22. gives instance in a melancholy Jew, that was Iracundior Adria, so waspish and suspicious, tam facile iratus, that no man could tell how to carry himself in his company. Inconstancy.] Inconstant they are in all their actions, vertiginous, restless, unapt to resolve of any business, they will and will not, persuaded to and fro upon every small occasion, or word spoken: and yet if once they be resolved, obstinate, hard to be reconciled. If they abhor, dislike, or distaste, once settled, though to the better by odds, by no counsel, or persuasion, to be removed. Yet in most things wavering, irresolute, unable to deliberate, through fear, faciunt, et mox facti poenitent (Areteus) avari, et paulo post prodigi. Now prodigal, and then covetous, they do, and by-and-by repent them of that which they have done, so that both ways they are troubled, whether they do or do not, want or have, hit or miss, disquieted of all hands, soon weary, and still seeking change, restless, I say, fickle, fugitive, they may not abide to tarry in one place long. [2511]Romae rus optans, absentem rusticus urbem Tollit ad astra———

no company long, or to persevere in any action or business. [2512]Et similis regum pueris, pappare minutum Poscit, et iratus mammae lallare recusat,

eftsoons pleased, and anon displeased, as a man that's bitten with fleas, or that cannot sleep turns to and fro in his bed, their restless minds are tossed and vary, they have no patience to read out a book, to play out a game or two, walk a mile, sit an hour, &c., erected and dejected in an instant; animated to undertake, and upon a word spoken again discouraged. Passionate.] Extreme passionate, Quicquid volunt valde volunt; and what they desire, they do most furiously seek; anxious ever, and very solicitous, distrustful, and timorous, envious, malicious, profuse one while, sparing another, but most part covetous, muttering, repining, discontent, and still complaining, grudging, peevish, injuriarum tenaces, prone to revenge, soon troubled, and most violent in all their imaginations, not affable in speech, or apt to vulgar compliment, but surly, dull, sad, austere; cogitabundi still, very intent, and as [2513] Albertus Durer paints melancholy, like a sad woman leaning on her arm with fixed looks, neglected habit, &c., held therefore by some proud, soft, sottish, or half-mad, as the Abderites esteemed of Democritus: and yet of a deep reach, excellent apprehension, judicious, wise, and witty: for I am of that [2514]nobleman's mind, Melancholy advanceth men's conceits, more than any humour whatsoever, improves their meditations more than any strong drink or sack. They are of profound judgment in some things, although in others non recte judicant inquieti, saith Fracastorius, lib. 2. de Intell. And as Arculanus, c. 16. in 9. Rhasis, terms it, Judicium plerumque perversum, corrupti, cum judicant honesta inhonesta, et amicitiam habent pro inimicitia: they count honesty dishonesty, friends as enemies, they will abuse their best friends, and dare not offend their enemies. Cowards most part et ad inferendam injuriam timidissimi, saith Cardan, lib. 8. cap. 4. de rerum varietate: loath to offend, and if they chance to overshoot themselves in word or deed: or any small business or circumstance be omitted, forgotten, they are miserably tormented, and frame a thousand dangers and inconveniences to themselves, ex musca elephantem, if once they conceit it: overjoyed with every good rumour, tale, or prosperous event, transported beyond themselves: with every small cross again, bad news, misconceived injury, loss, danger, afflicted beyond measure, in great agony, perplexed, dejected, astonished, impatient, utterly undone: fearful, suspicious of all. Yet again, many of them desperate harebrains, rash, careless, fit to be assassinates, as being void of all fear and sorrow, according to [2515]Hercules de Saxonia, Most audacious, and such as dare walk alone in the night, through deserts and dangerous places, fearing none. Amorous.] They are prone to love, and [2516]easy to be taken; Propensi ad amorem et excandescentiam (Montaltus cap. 21.) quickly enamoured, and dote upon all, love one dearly, till they see another, and then dote on her, Et hanc, et hanc, et illam, et omnes, the present moves most, and the last commonly they love best. Yet some again Anterotes, cannot endure the sight of a woman, abhor the sex, as that same melancholy [2517]duke of Muscovy, that was instantly sick, if he came but in sight of them; and that [2518]Anchorite, that fell into a cold palsy, when a woman was brought before him. Humorous.] Humorous they are beyond all measure, sometimes profusely laughing, extraordinarily merry, and then again weeping without a cause, (which is familiar with many gentlewomen,) groaning, sighing, pensive, sad, almost distracted, multa absurda fingunt, et a ratione aliena (saith [2519]Frambesarius), they feign many absurdities, vain, void of reason: one supposeth himself to be a dog, cock, bear, horse, glass, butter, &c. He is a giant, a dwarf, as strong as an hundred men, a lord, duke, prince, &c. And if he be told he hath a stinking breath, a great nose, that he is sick, or inclined to such or such a disease, he believes it eftsoons, and peradventure by force of imagination will work it out. Many of them are immovable, and fixed in their conceits, others vary upon every object, heard or seen. If they see a stage-play, they run upon that a week after; if they hear music, or see dancing, they have nought but bagpipes in their brain: if they see a combat, they are all for arms. [2520]If abused, an abuse troubles them long after; if crossed, that cross, &c. Restless in their thoughts and actions, continually meditating, Velut aegri somnia, vanae finguntur species; more like dreams, than men awake, they fain a company of antic, fantastical conceits, they have most frivolous thoughts, impossible to be effected; and sometimes think verily they hear and see present before their eyes such phantasms or goblins, they fear, suspect, or conceive, they still talk with, and follow them. In fine, cogitationes somniantibus similes, id vigilant, quod alii somniant cogitabundi, still, saith Avicenna, they wake, as others dream, and such for the most part are their imaginations and conceits, [2521]absurd, vain, foolish toys, yet they are [2522]most curious and solicitous, continual, et supra modum, Rhasis cont. lib. 1. cap. 9. praemeditantur de aliqua re. As serious in a toy, as if it were a most necessary business, of great moment, importance, and still, still, still thinking of it: saeviunt in se, macerating themselves. Though they do talk with you, and seem to be otherwise employed, and to your thinking very intent and busy, still that toy runs in their mind, that fear, that suspicion, that abuse, that jealousy, that agony, that vexation, that cross, that castle in the air, that crotchet, that whimsy, that fiction, that pleasant waking dream, whatsoever it is. Nec interrogant (saith [2523]Fracastorius) nec interrogatis recte respondent. They do not much heed what you say, their mind is on another matter; ask what you will, they do not attend, or much intend that business they are about, but forget themselves what they are saying, doing, or should otherwise say or do, whither they are going, distracted with their own melancholy thoughts. One laughs upon a sudden, another smiles to himself, a third frowns, calls, his lips go still, he acts with his hand as he walks, &c. 'Tis proper to all melancholy men, saith [2524]Mercurialis, con. 11. What conceit they have once entertained, to be most intent, violent, and continually about it. Invitas occurrit, do what they may they cannot be rid of it, against their wills they must think of it a thousand times over, Perpetuo molestantur nec oblivisci possunt, they are continually troubled with it, in company, out of company; at meat, at exercise, at all times and places, [2525]non desinunt ea, quae, minime volunt, cogitare, if it be offensive especially, they cannot forget it, they may not rest or sleep for it, but still tormenting themselves, Sysiphi saxum volvunt sibi ipsis, as [2526]Brunner observes, Perpetua calamitas et miserabile flagellum. Bashfulness.] [2527]Crato, [2528]Laurentius, and Fernelius, put bashfulness for an ordinary symptom, sabrusticus pudor, or vitiosus pudor, is a thing which much haunts and torments them. If they have been misused, derided, disgraced, chidden, &c., or by any perturbation of mind, misaffected, it so far troubles them, that they become quite moped many times, and so disheartened, dejected, they dare not come abroad, into strange companies especially, or manage their ordinary affairs, so childish, timorous, and bashful, they can look no man in the face; some are more disquieted in this kind, some less, longer some, others shorter, by fits, &c., though some on the other side (according to [2529]Fracastorius) be inverecundi et pertinaces, impudent and peevish. But most part they are very shamefaced, and that makes them with Pet. Blesensis, Christopher Urswick, and many such, to refuse honours, offices, and preferments, which sometimes fall into their mouths, they cannot speak, or put forth themselves as others can, timor hos, pudor impedit illos, timorousness and bashfulness hinder their proceedings, they are contented with their present estate, unwilling to undertake any office, and therefore never likely to rise. For that cause they seldom visit their friends, except some familiars: pauciloqui, of few words, and oftentimes wholly silent. [2530] Frambeserius, a Frenchman, had two such patients, omnino taciturnos, their friends could not get them to speak: Rodericus a Fonseca consult. tom. 2. 85. consil. gives instance in a young man, of twenty-seven years of age, that was frequently silent, bashful, moped, solitary, that would not eat his meat, or sleep, and yet again by fits apt to be angry, &c. Solitariness.] Most part they are, as Plater notes, desides, taciturni, aegre impulsi, nec nisi coacti procedunt, &c. they will scarce be compelled to do that which concerns them, though it be for their good, so diffident, so dull, of small or no compliment, unsociable, hard to be acquainted with, especially of strangers; they had rather write their minds than speak, and above all things love solitariness. Ob voluptatem, an ob timorem soli sunt? Are they so solitary for pleasure (one asks,) or pain? for both; yet I rather think for fear and sorrow, &c. [2531]Hinc metuunt cupiuntque, dolent fugiuntque, nec auras Respiciunt, clausi tenebris, et carcere caeco.

Hence 'tis they grieve and fear, avoiding light, And shut themselves in prison dark from sight.

As Bellerophon in [2532]Homer, Qui miser in sylvis moerens errabat opacis, Ipse suum cor edens, hominum vestigia vitans.

That wandered in the woods sad all alone, Forsaking men's society, making great moan.

They delight in floods and waters, desert places, to walk alone in orchards, gardens, private walks, back lanes, averse from company, as Diogenes in his tub, or Timon Misanthropus [2533], they abhor all companions at last, even their nearest acquaintances and most familiar friends, for they have a conceit (I say) every man observes them, will deride, laugh to scorn, or misuse them, confining themselves therefore wholly to their private houses or chambers, fugiunt homines sine causa (saith Rhasis) et odio habent, cont. l. 1. c. 9. they will diet themselves, feed and live alone. It was one of the chiefest reasons why the citizens of Abdera suspected Democritus to be melancholy and mad, because that, as Hippocrates related in his Epistle to Philopaemenes, [2534]he forsook the city, lived in groves and hollow trees, upon a green bank by a brook side, or confluence of waters all day long, and all night. Quae quidem (saith he) plurimum atra bile vexatis et melancholicis eveniunt, deserta frequentant, hominumque congressum aversantur; [2535]which is an ordinary thing with melancholy men. The Egyptians therefore in their hieroglyphics expressed a melancholy man by a hare sitting in her form, as being a most timorous and solitary creature, Pierius Hieroglyph. l. 12. But this, and all precedent symptoms, are more or less apparent, as the humour is intended or remitted, hardly perceived in some, or not all, most manifest in others. Childish in some, terrible in others; to be derided in one, pitied or admired in another; to him by fits, to a second continuate: and howsoever these symptoms be common and incident to all persons, yet they are the more remarkable, frequent, furious and violent in melancholy men. To speak in a word, there is nothing so vain, absurd, ridiculous, extravagant, impossible, incredible, so monstrous a chimera, so prodigious and strange, [2536]such as painters and poets durst not attempt, which they will not really fear, feign, suspect and imagine unto themselves: and that which [2537]Lod. Vives said in a jest of a silly country fellow, that killed his ass for drinking up the moon, ut lunam mundo redderet, you may truly say of them in earnest; they will act, conceive all extremes, contrarieties, and contradictions, and that in infinite varieties. Melancholici plane incredibilia sibi persuadent, ut vix omnibus saeculis duo reperti sint, qui idem imaginati sint (Erastus de Lamiis), scarce two of two thousand that concur in the same symptoms. The tower of Babel never yielded such confusion of tongues, as the chaos of melancholy doth variety of symptoms. There is in all melancholy similitudo dissimilis, like men's faces, a disagreeing likeness still; and as in a river we swim in the same place, though not in the same numerical water; as the same instrument affords several lessons, so the same disease yields diversity of symptoms. Which howsoever they be diverse, intricate, and hard to be confined, I will adventure yet in such a vast confusion and generality to bring them into some order; and so descend to particulars.

SUBSECT. III.—Particular Symptoms from the influence of Stars, parts of the Body, and Humours.

Some men have peculiar symptoms, according to their temperament and crisis, which they had from the stars and those celestial influences, variety of wits and dispositions, as Anthony Zara contends, Anat. ingen. sect. 1. memb. 11, 12, 13, 14. plurimum irritant influentiae, caelestes, unde cientur animi aegritudines et morbi corporum. [2538]One saith, diverse diseases of the body and mind proceed from their influences, [2539]as I have already proved out of Ptolemy, Pontanus, Lemnius, Cardan, and others as they are principal significators of manners, diseases, mutually irradiated, or lords of the geniture, &c. Ptolomeus in his centiloquy, Hermes, or whosoever else the author of that tract, attributes all these symptoms, which are in melancholy men, to celestial influences: which opinion Mercurialis de affect, lib. cap. 10. rejects; but, as I say, [2540]Jovianus Pontanus and others stiffly defend. That some are solitary, dull, heavy, churlish; some again blithe, buxom, light, and merry, they ascribe wholly to the stars. As if Saturn be predominant in his nativity, and cause melancholy in his temperature, then [2541]he shall be very austere, sullen, churlish, black of colour, profound in his cogitations, full of cares, miseries, and discontents, sad and fearful, always silent, solitary, still delighting in husbandry, in woods, orchards, gardens, rivers, ponds, pools, dark walks and close: Cogitationes sunt velle aedificare, velle arbores plantare, agros colere, &c. To catch birds, fishes, &c. still contriving and musing of such matters. If Jupiter domineers, they are more ambitious, still meditating of kingdoms, magistracies, offices, honours, or that they are princes, potentates, and how they would carry themselves, &c. If Mars, they are all for wars, brave combats, monomachies, testy, choleric, harebrain, rash, furious, and violent in their actions. They will feign themselves victors, commanders, are passionate and satirical in their speeches, great braggers, ruddy of colour. And though they be poor in show, vile and base, yet like Telephus and Peleus in the [2542]poet, Ampullas jactant et sesquipedalia verba, forget their swelling and gigantic words, their mouths are full of myriads, and tetrarchs at their tongues' end. If the sun, they will be lords, emperors, in conceit at least, and monarchs, give offices, honours, &c. If Venus, they are still courting of their mistresses, and most apt to love, amorously given, they seem to hear music, plays, see fine pictures, dancers, merriments, and the like. Ever in love, and dote on all they see. Mercurialists are solitary, much in contemplation, subtle, poets, philosophers, and musing most part about such matters. If the moon have a hand, they are all for peregrinations, sea voyages, much affected with travels, to discourse, read, meditate of such things; wandering in their thoughts, diverse, much delighting in waters, to fish, fowl, &c. But the most immediate symptoms proceed from the temperature itself, and the organical parts, as head, liver, spleen, mesaraic veins, heart, womb, stomach, &c., and most especially from distemperature of spirits (which, as [2543]Hercules de Saxonia contends, are wholly immaterial), or from the four humours in those seats, whether they be hot or cold, natural, unnatural, innate or adventitious, intended or remitted, simple or mixed, their diverse mixtures, and several adustions, combinations, which may be as diversely varied, as those [2544]four first qualities in [2545] Clavius, and produce as many several symptoms and monstrous fictions as wine doth effect, which as Andreas Bachius observes, lib. 3. de vino, cap. 20. are infinite. Of greater note be these. If it be natural melancholy, as Lod. Mercatus, lib. 1. cap. 17. de melan. T. Bright. c. 16. hath largely described, either of the spleen, or of the veins, faulty by excess of quantity, or thickness of substance, it is a cold and dry humour, as Montanus affirms, consil. 26 the parties are sad, timorous and fearful. Prosper Calenus, in his book de atra bile, will have them to be more stupid than ordinary, cold, heavy, solitary, sluggish. Si multam atram bilem et frigidam habent. Hercules de Saxonia, c. 19. l. 7. [2546]holds these that are naturally melancholy, to be of a leaden colour or black, and so doth Guianerius, c. 3. tract. 15. and such as think themselves dead many times, or that they see, talk with black men, dead men, spirits and goblins frequently, if it be in excess. These symptoms vary according to the mixture of those four humours adust, which is unnatural melancholy. For as Trallianus hath written, cap. 16. l. 7. [2547]There is not one cause of this melancholy, nor one humour which begets, but divers diversely intermixed, from whence proceeds this variety of symptoms: and those varying again as they are hot or cold. [2548]Cold melancholy (saith Benedic. Vittorius Faventinus pract. mag.) is a cause of dotage, and more mild symptoms, if hot or more adust, of more violent passions, and furies. Fracastorius, l. 2. de intellect. will have us to consider well of it, [2549]with what kind of melancholy every one is troubled, for it much avails to know it; one is enraged by fervent heat, another is possessed by sad and cold; one is fearful, shamefaced; the other impudent and bold; as Ajax, Arma rapit superosque furens inpraelia poscit: quite mad or tending to madness. Nunc hos, nunc impetit illos. Bellerophon on the other side, solis errat male sanus in agris, wanders alone in the woods; one despairs, weeps, and is weary of his life, another laughs, &c. All which variety is produced from the several degrees of heat and cold, which [2550]Hercules de Saxonia will have wholly proceed from the distemperature of spirits alone, animal especially, and those immaterial, the next and immediate causes of melancholy, as they are hot, cold, dry, moist, and from their agitation proceeds that diversity of symptoms, which he reckons up, in the [2551]thirteenth chap. of his Tract of Melancholy, and that largely through every part. Others will have them come from the diverse adustion of the four humours, which in this unnatural melancholy, by corruption of blood, adust choler, or melancholy natural, [2552]by excessive distemper of heat turned, in comparison of the natural, into a sharp lye by force of adustion, cause, according to the diversity of their matter, diverse and strange symptoms, which T. Bright reckons up in his following chapter. So doth [2553]Arculanus, according to the four principal humours adust, and many others. For example, if it proceed from phlegm, (which is seldom and not so frequently as the rest) [2554]it stirs up dull symptoms, and a kind of stupidity, or impassionate hurt: they are sleepy, saith [2555]Savanarola, dull, slow, cold, blockish, ass-like, Asininam melancholiam, [2556] Melancthon calls it, they are much given to weeping, and delight in waters, ponds, pools, rivers, fishing, fowling, &c. (Arnoldus breviar. 1. cap. 18.) They are [2557]pale of colour, slothful, apt to sleep, heavy; [2558]much troubled with headache, continual meditation, and muttering to themselves; they dream of waters, [2559]that they are in danger of drowning, and fear such things, Rhasis. They are fatter than others that are melancholy, of a muddy complexion, apter to spit, [2560] sleep, more troubled with rheum than the rest, and have their eyes still fixed on the ground. Such a patient had Hercules de Saxonia, a widow in Venice, that was fat and very sleepy still; Christophorus a Vega another affected in the same sort. If it be inveterate or violent, the symptoms are more evident, they plainly denote and are ridiculous to others, in all their gestures, actions, speeches; imagining impossibilities, as he in Christophorus a Vega, that thought he was a tun of wine, [2561]and that Siennois, that resolved within himself not to piss, for fear he should drown all the town. If it proceed from blood adust, or that there be a mixture of blood in it, [2562]such are commonly ruddy of complexion, and high-coloured, according to Salust. Salvianus, and Hercules de Saxonia. And as Savanarola, Vittorius Faventinus Emper. farther adds, [2563]the veins of their eyes be red, as well as their faces. They are much inclined to laughter, witty and merry, conceited in discourse, pleasant, if they be not far gone, much given to music, dancing, and to be in women's company. They meditate wholly on such things, and think [2564]they see or hear plays, dancing, and suchlike sports (free from all fear and sorrow, as [2565]Hercules de Saxonia supposeth.) If they be more strongly possessed with this kind of melancholy, Arnoldus adds, Breviar. lib. 1. cap. 18. Like him of Argos in the Poet, that sate laughing [2566]all day long, as if he had been at a theatre. Such another is mentioned by [2567]Aristotle, living at Abydos, a town of Asia Minor, that would sit after the same fashion, as if he had been upon a stage, and sometimes act himself; now clap his hands, and laugh, as if he had been well pleased with the sight. Wolfius relates of a country fellow called Brunsellius, subject to this humour, [2568]that being by chance at a sermon, saw a woman fall off from a form half asleep, at which object most of the company laughed, but he for his part was so much moved, that for three whole days after he did nothing but laugh, by which means he was much weakened, and worse a long time following. Such a one was old Sophocles, and Democritus himself had hilare delirium, much in this vein. Laurentius cap. 3. de melan. thinks this kind of melancholy, which is a little adust with some mixture of blood, to be that which Aristotle meant, when he said melancholy men of all others are most witty, which causeth many times a divine ravishment, and a kind of enthusiasmus, which stirreth them up to be excellent philosophers, poets, prophets, &c. Mercurialis, consil. 110. gives instance in a young man his patient, sanguine melancholy, [2569]of a great wit, and excellently learned. If it arise from choler adust, they are bold and impudent, and of a more harebrain disposition, apt to quarrel, and think of such things, battles, combats, and their manhood, furious; impatient in discourse, stiff, irrefragable and prodigious in their tenets; and if they be moved, most violent, outrageous, [2570]ready to disgrace, provoke any, to kill themselves and others; Arnoldus adds, stark mad by fits, [2571]they sleep little, their urine is subtle and fiery. (Guianerius.) In their fits you shall hear them speak all manner of languages, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, that never were taught or knew them before. Apponensis in com. in Pro. sec. 30. speaks of a mad woman that spake excellent good Latin: and Rhasis knew another, that could prophecy in her fit, and foretell things truly to come. [2572]Guianerius had a patient could make Latin verses when the moon was combust, otherwise illiterate. Avicenna and some of his adherents will have these symptoms, when they happen, to proceed from the devil, and that they are rather demoniaci, possessed, than mad or melancholy, or both together, as Jason Pratensis thinks, Immiscent se mali genii, &c. but most ascribe it to the humour, which opinion Montaltus cap. 21. stiffly maintains, confuting Avicenna and the rest, referring it wholly to the quality and disposition of the humour and subject. Cardan de rerum var. lib. 8. cap. 10. holds these men of all others fit to be assassins, bold, hardy, fierce, and adventurous, to undertake anything by reason of their choler adust. [2573]This humour, saith he, prepares them to endure death itself, and all manner of torments with invincible courage, and 'tis a wonder to see with what alacrity they will undergo such tortures, ut supra naturam res videatur: he ascribes this generosity, fury, or rather stupidity, to this adustion of choler and melancholy: but I take these rather to be mad or desperate, than properly melancholy; for commonly this humour so adust and hot, degenerates into madness. If it come from melancholy itself adust, those men, saith Avicenna, [2574] are usually sad and solitary, and that continually, and in excess, more than ordinarily suspicious more fearful, and have long, sore, and most corrupt imaginations; cold and black, bashful, and so solitary, that as [2575]Arnoldus writes, they will endure no company, they dream of graves still, and dead men, and think themselves bewitched or dead: if it be extreme, they think they hear hideous noises, see and talk [2576]with black men, and converse familiarly with devils, and such strange chimeras and visions, (Gordonius) or that they are possessed by them, that somebody talks to them, or within them. Tales melancholici plerumque daemoniaci, Montaltus consil. 26. ex Avicenna. Valescus de Taranta had such a woman in cure, [2577]that thought she had to do with the devil: and Gentilis Fulgosus quaest. 55. writes that he had a melancholy friend, that [2578] had a black man in the likeness of a soldier still following him wheresoever he was. Laurentius cap. 7. hath many stories of such as have thought themselves bewitched by their enemies; and some that would eat no meat as being dead. [2579]Anno 1550 an advocate of Paris fell into such a melancholy fit, that he believed verily he was dead, he could not be persuaded otherwise, or to eat or drink, till a kinsman of his, a scholar of Bourges, did eat before him dressed like a corse. The story, saith Serres, was acted in a comedy before Charles the Ninth. Some think they are beasts, wolves, hogs, and cry like dogs, foxes, bray like asses, and low like kine, as King Praetus' daughters. [2580]Hildesheim spicel. 2. de mania, hath an example of a Dutch baron so affected, and Trincavelius lib. 1. consil. 11. another of a nobleman in his country, [2581]that thought he was certainly a beast, and would imitate most of their voices, with many such symptoms, which may properly be reduced to this kind. If it proceed from the several combinations of these four humours, or spirits, Herc. de Saxon. adds hot, cold, dry, moist, dark, confused, settled, constringed, as it participates of matter, or is without matter, the symptoms are likewise mixed. One thinks himself a giant, another a dwarf. One is heavy as lead, another is as light as a feather. Marcellus Donatus l. 2. cap. 41. makes mention out of Seneca, of one Seneccio, a rich man, [2582]that thought himself and everything else he had, great: great wife, great horses, could not abide little things, but would have great pots to drink in, great hose, and great shoes bigger than his feet. Like her in [2583]Trallianus, that supposed she could shake all the world with her finger, and was afraid to clinch her hand together, lest she should crush the world like an apple in pieces: or him in Galen, that thought he was [2584]Atlas, and sustained heaven with his shoulders. Another thinks himself so little, that he can creep into a mouse-hole: one fears heaven will fall on his head: a second is a cock; and such a one, [2585]Guianerius saith he saw at Padua, that would clap his hands together and crow. [2586]Another thinks he is a nightingale, and therefore sings all the night long; another he is all glass, a pitcher, and will therefore let nobody come near him, and such a one [2587]Laurentius gives out upon his credit, that he knew in France. Christophorus a Vega cap. 3. lib. 14. Skenkius and Marcellus Donatus l. 2. cap. 1. have many such examples, and one amongst the rest of a baker in Ferrara that thought he was composed of butter, and durst not sit in the sun, or come near the fire for fear of being melted: of another that thought he was a case of leather, stuffed with wind. Some laugh, weep; some are mad, some dejected, moped, in much agony, some by fits, others continuate, &c. Some have a corrupt ear, they think they hear music, or some hideous noise as their phantasy conceives, corrupt eyes, some smelling, some one sense, some another. [2588]Lewis the Eleventh had a conceit everything did stink about him, all the odoriferous perfumes they could get, would not ease him, but still he smelled a filthy stink. A melancholy French poet in [2589]Laurentius, being sick of a fever, and troubled with waking, by his physicians was appointed to use unguentum populeum to anoint his temples; but he so distasted the smell of it, that for many years after, all that came near him he imagined to scent of it, and would let no man talk with him but aloof off, or wear any new clothes, because he thought still they smelled of it; in all other things wise and discreet, he would talk sensibly, save only in this. A gentleman in Limousin, saith Anthony Verdeur, was persuaded he had but one leg, affrighted by a wild boar, that by chance struck him on the leg; he could not be satisfied his leg was sound (in all other things well) until two Franciscans by chance coming that way, fully removed him from the conceit. Sed abunde fabularum audivimus,—enough of story-telling.

SUBSECT. IV.—Symptoms from Education, Custom, continuance of Time, our Condition, mixed with other Diseases, by Fits, Inclination, &c.

Another great occasion of the variety of these symptoms proceeds from custom, discipline, education, and several inclinations, [2590]this humour will imprint in melancholy men the objects most answerable to their condition of life, and ordinary actions, and dispose men according to their several studies and callings. If an ambitious man become melancholy, he forthwith thinks he is a king, an emperor, a monarch, and walks alone, pleasing himself with a vain hope of some future preferment, or present as he supposeth, and withal acts a lord's part, takes upon him to be some statesman or magnifico, makes conges, gives entertainment, looks big, &c. Francisco Sansovino records of a melancholy man in Cremona, that would not be induced to believe but that he was pope, gave pardons, made cardinals, &c. [2591]Christophorus a Vega makes mention of another of his acquaintance, that thought he was a king, driven from his kingdom, and was very anxious to recover his estate. A covetous person is still conversant about purchasing of lands and tenements, plotting in his mind how to compass such and such manors, as if he were already lord of, and able to go through with it; all he sees is his, re or spe, he hath devoured it in hope, or else in conceit esteems it his own: like him in [2592]Athenaeus, that thought all the ships in the haven to be his own. A lascivious inamorato plots all the day long to please his mistress, acts and struts, and carries himself as if she were in presence, still dreaming of her, as Pamphilus of his Glycerium, or as some do in their morning sleep. [2593] Marcellus Donatus knew such a gentlewoman in Mantua, called Elionora Meliorina, that constantly believed she was married to a king, and [2594] would kneel down and talk with him, as if he had been there present with his associates; and if she had found by chance a piece of glass in a muck-hill or in the street, she would say that it was a jewel sent from her lord and husband. If devout and religious, he is all for fasting, prayer, ceremonies, alms, interpretations, visions, prophecies, revelations, [2595] he is inspired by the Holy Ghost, full of the spirit: one while he is saved, another while damned, or still troubled in mind for his sins, the devil will surely have him, &c. more of these in the third partition of love-melancholy. [2596]A scholar's mind is busied about his studies, he applauds himself for that he hath done, or hopes to do, one while fearing to be out in his next exercise, another while contemning all censures; envies one, emulates another; or else with indefatigable pains and meditation, consumes himself. So of the rest, all which vary according to the more remiss and violent impression of the object, or as the humour itself is intended or remitted. For some are so gently melancholy, that in all their carriage, and to the outward apprehension of others it can hardly be discerned, yet to them an intolerable burden, and not to be endured. [2597]Quaedam occulta quaedam manifesta, some signs are manifest and obvious to all at all times, some to few, or seldom, or hardly perceived; let them keep their own council, none will take notice or suspect them. They do not express in outward show their depraved imaginations, as [2598]Hercules de Saxonia observes, but conceal them wholly to themselves, and are very wise men, as I have often seen; some fear, some do not fear at all, as such as think themselves kings or dead, some have more signs, some fewer, some great, some less, some vex, fret, still fear, grieve, lament, suspect, laugh, sing, weep, chafe, &c. by fits (as I have said) or more during and permanent. Some dote in one thing, are most childish, and ridiculous, and to be wondered at in that, and yet for all other matters most discreet and wise. To some it is in disposition, to another in habit; and as they write of heat and cold, we may say of this humour, one is melancholicus ad octo, a second two degrees less, a third halfway. 'Tis superparticular, sesquialtera, sesquitertia, and superbipartiens tertias, quintas Melancholiae, &c. all those geometrical proportions are too little to express it. [2599]It comes to many by fits, and goes; to others it is continuate: many (saith [2600]Faventinus) in spring and fall only are molested, some once a year, as that Roman [2601] Galen speaks of: [2602]one, at the conjunction of the moon alone, or some unfortunate aspects, at such and such set hours and times, like the sea-tides, to some women when they be with child, as [2603]Plater notes, never otherwise: to others 'tis settled and fixed; to one led about and variable still by that ignis fatuus of phantasy, like an arthritis or running gout, 'tis here and there, and in every joint, always molesting some part or other; or if the body be free, in a myriad of forms exercising the mind. A second once peradventure in his life hath a most grievous fit, once in seven years, once in five years, even to the extremity of madness, death, or dotage, and that upon, some feral accident or perturbation, terrible object, and for a time, never perhaps so before, never after. A third is moved upon all such troublesome objects, cross fortune, disaster, and violent passions, otherwise free, once troubled in three or four years. A fourth, if things be to his mind, or he in action, well pleased, in good company, is most jocund, and of a good complexion: if idle, or alone, a la mort, or carried away wholly with pleasant dreams and phantasies, but if once crossed and displeased, Pectore concipiet nil nisi triste suo;

He will imagine naught save sadness in his heart;

his countenance is altered on a sudden, his heart heavy, irksome thoughts crucify his soul, and in an instant he is moped or weary of his life, he will kill himself. A fifth complains in his youth, a sixth in his middle age, the last in his old age. Generally thus much we may conclude of melancholy; that it is [2604]most pleasant at first, I say, mentis gratissimus error, [2605]a most delightsome humour, to be alone, dwell alone, walk alone, meditate, lie in bed whole days, dreaming awake as it were, and frame a thousand fantastical imaginations unto themselves. They are never better pleased than when they are so doing, they are in paradise for the time, and cannot well endure to be interrupt; with him in the poet, [2606]pol me occidistis amici, non servastis ait? you have undone him, he complains, if you trouble him: tell him what inconvenience will follow, what will be the event, all is one, canis ad vomitum, [2607]'tis so pleasant he cannot refrain. He may thus continue peradventure many years by reason of a strong temperature, or some mixture of business, which may divert his cogitations: but at the last laesa imaginatio, his phantasy is crazed, and now habituated to such toys, cannot but work still like a fate, the scene alters upon a sudden, fear and sorrow supplant those pleasing thoughts, suspicion, discontent, and perpetual anxiety succeed in their places; so by little and little, by that shoeing-horn of idleness, and voluntary solitariness, melancholy this feral fiend is drawn on, [2608]et quantum vertice ad auras Aethereas, tantum radice in Tartara tendit, extending up, by its branches, so far towards Heaven, as, by its roots, it does down towards Tartarus; it was not so delicious at first, as now it is bitter and harsh; a cankered soul macerated with cares and discontents, taedium vitae, impatience, agony, inconstancy, irresolution, precipitate them unto unspeakable miseries. They cannot endure company, light, or life itself, some unfit for action, and the like. [2609]Their bodies are lean and dried up, withered, ugly, their looks harsh, very dull, and their souls tormented, as they are more or less entangled, as the humour hath been intended, or according to the continuance of time they have been troubled. To discern all which symptoms the better, [2610]Rhasis the Arabian makes three degrees of them. The first is, falsa cogitatio, false conceits and idle thoughts: to misconstrue and amplify, aggravating everything they conceive or fear; the second is, falso cogitata loqui, to talk to themselves, or to use inarticulate incondite voices, speeches, obsolete gestures, and plainly to utter their minds and conceits of their hearts, by their words and actions, as to laugh, weep, to be silent, not to sleep, eat their meat, &c.: the third is to put in practice [2611]that which they think or speak. Savanarola, Rub. 11. tract. 8. cap. 1. de aegritudine, confirms as much, [2612]when he begins to express that in words, which he conceives in his heart, or talks idly, or goes from one thing to another, which [2613]Gordonius calls nec caput habentia, nec caudam, (having neither head nor tail,) he is in the middle way: [2614] but when he begins to act it likewise, and to put his fopperies in execution, he is then in the extent of melancholy, or madness itself. This progress of melancholy you shall easily observe in them that have been so affected, they go smiling to themselves at first, at length they laugh out; at first solitary, at last they can endure no company: or if they do, they are now dizzards, past sense and shame, quite moped, they care not what they say or do, all their actions, words, gestures, are furious or ridiculous. At first his mind is troubled, he doth not attend what is said, if you tell him a tale, he cries at last, what said you? but in the end he mutters to himself, as old women do many times, or old men when they sit alone, upon a sudden they laugh, whoop, halloo, or run away, and swear they see or hear players, [2615]devils, hobgoblins, ghosts, strike, or strut, &c., grow humorous in the end; like him in the poet, saepe ducentos, saepe decem servos, (at one time followed by two hundred servants, at another only by ten) he will dress himself, and undress, careless at last, grows insensible, stupid, or mad. [2616]He howls like a wolf, barks like a dog, and raves like Ajax and Orestes, hears music and outcries, which no man else hears. As [2617]he did whom Amatus Lusitanus mentioneth cent. 3, cura. 55, or that woman in [2618]Springer, that spake many languages, and said she was possessed: that farmer in [2619]Prosper Calenius, that disputed and discoursed learnedly in philosophy and astronomy, with Alexander Achilles his master, at Bologna, in Italy. But of these I have already spoken. Who can sufficiently speak of these symptoms, or prescribe rules to comprehend them? as Echo to the painter in Ausonius, vane quid affectas, &c., foolish fellow; what wilt? if you must needs paint me, paint a voice, et similem si vis pingere, pinge sonum; if you will describe melancholy, describe a fantastical conceit, a corrupt imagination, vain thoughts and different, which who can do? The four and twenty letters make no more variety of words in diverse languages, than melancholy conceits produce diversity of symptoms in several persons. They are irregular, obscure, various, so infinite, Proteus himself is not so diverse, you may as well make the moon a new coat, as a true character of a melancholy man; as soon find the motion of a bird in the air, as the heart of man, a melancholy man. They are so confused, I say, diverse, intermixed with other diseases. As the species be confounded (which [2620]I have showed) so are the symptoms; sometimes with headache, cachexia, dropsy, stone; as you may perceive by those several examples and illustrations, collected by [2621] Hildesheim spicel. 2. Mercurialis consil. 118. cap. 6 and 11. with headache, epilepsy, priapismus. Trincavelius consil. 12. lib. 1. consil. 49. with gout: caninus appetitus. Montanus consil. 26, &c. 23, 234, 249, with falling-sickness, headache, vertigo, lycanthropia, &c. J. Caesar Claudinus consult. 4. consult. 89 and 116. with gout, agues, haemorrhoids, stone, &c., who can distinguish these melancholy symptoms so intermixed with others, or apply them to their several kinds, confine them into method? 'Tis hard I confess, yet I have disposed of them as I could, and will descend to particularise them according to their species. For hitherto I have expatiated in more general lists or terms, speaking promiscuously of such ordinary signs, which occur amongst writers. Not that they are all to be found in one man, for that were to paint a monster or chimera, not a man: but some in one, some in another, and that successively or at several times. Which I have been the more curious to express and report; not to upbraid any miserable man, or by way of derision, (I rather pity them,) but the better to discern, to apply remedies unto them; and to show that the best and soundest of us all is in great danger; how much we ought to fear our own fickle estates, remember our miseries and vanities, examine and humiliate ourselves, seek to God, and call to Him for mercy, that needs not look for any rods to scourge ourselves, since we carry them in our bowels, and that our souls are in a miserable captivity, if the light of grace and heavenly truth doth not shine continually upon us: and by our discretion to moderate ourselves, to be more circumspect and wary in the midst of these dangers.

MEMB. II.

SUBSECT. I.—Symptoms of Head-Melancholy.

If [2622]no symptoms appear about the stomach, nor the blood be misaffected, and fear and sorrow continue, it is to be thought the brain itself is troubled, by reason of a melancholy juice bred in it, or otherwise conveyed into it, and that evil juice is from the distemperature of the part, or left after some inflammation, thus far Piso. But this is not always true, for blood and hypochondries both are often affected even in head-melancholy. [2623]Hercules de Saxonia differs here from the common current of writers, putting peculiar signs of head-melancholy, from the sole distemperature of spirits in the brain, as they are hot, cold, dry, moist, all without matter from the motion alone, and tenebrosity of spirits; of melancholy which proceeds from humours by adustion, he treats apart, with their several symptoms and cures. The common signs, if it be by essence in the head, are ruddiness of face, high sanguine complexion, most part rubore saturato, [2624]one calls it, a bluish, and sometimes full of pimples, with red eyes. Avicenna l. 3, Fen. 2, Tract. 4, c. 18. Duretus and others out of Galen, de affect. l. 3, c. 6. [2625]Hercules de Saxonia to this of redness of face, adds heaviness of the head, fixed and hollow eyes. [2626]If it proceed from dryness of the brain, then their heads will be light, vertiginous, and they most apt to wake, and to continue whole months together without sleep. Few excrements in their eyes and nostrils, and often bald by reason of excess of dryness, Montaltus adds, c. 17. If it proceed from moisture: dullness, drowsiness, headache follows; and as Salust. Salvianus, c. 1, l. 2, out of his own experience found, epileptical, with a multitude of humours in the head. They are very bashful, if ruddy, apt to blush, and to be red upon all occasions, praesertim si metus accesserit. But the chiefest symptom to discern this species, as I have said, is this, that there be no notable signs in the stomach, hypochondries, or elsewhere, digna, as [2627] Montaltus terms them, or of greater note, because oftentimes the passions of the stomach concur with them. Wind is common to all three species, and is not excluded, only that of the hypochondries is [2628]more windy than the rest, saith Hollerius. Aetius tetrab. l. 2, sc. 2, c. 9 and 10, maintains the same, [2629]if there be more signs, and more evident in the head than elsewhere, the brain is primarily affected, and prescribes head-melancholy to be cured by meats amongst the rest, void of wind, and good juice, not excluding wind, or corrupt blood, even in head-melancholy itself: but these species are often confounded, and so are their symptoms, as I have already proved. The symptoms of the mind are superfluous and continual cogitations; [2630]for when the head is heated, it scorcheth the blood, and from thence proceed melancholy fumes, which trouble the mind, Avicenna. They are very choleric, and soon hot, solitary, sad, often silent, watchful, discontent, Montaltus, cap. 24. If anything trouble them, they cannot sleep, but fret themselves still, till another object mitigate, or time wear it out. They have grievous passions, and immoderate perturbations of the mind, fear, sorrow, &c., yet not so continuate, but that they are sometimes merry, apt to profuse laughter, which is more to be wondered at, and that by the authority of [2631]Galen himself, by reason of mixture of blood, praerubri jocosis delectantur, et irrisores plerumque sunt, if they be ruddy, they are delighted in jests, and oftentimes scoffers themselves, conceited: and as Rodericus a Vega comments on that place of Galen, merry, witty, of a pleasant disposition, and yet grievously melancholy anon after: omnia discunt sine doctore, saith Aretus, they learn without a teacher: and as [2632]Laurentius supposeth, those feral passions and symptoms of such as think themselves glass, pitchers, feathers, &c., speak strange languages, a colore cerebri (if it be in excess) from the brain's distempered heat.

SUBSECT. II.—Symptoms of windy Hypochondriacal Melancholy.

In this hypochondriacal or flatuous melancholy, the symptoms are so ambiguous, saith [2633]Crato in a counsel of his for a noblewoman, that the most exquisite physicians cannot determine of the part affected. Matthew Flaccius, consulted about a noble matron, confessed as much, that in this malady he with Hollerius, Fracastorius, Falopius, and others, being to give their sentence of a party labouring of hypochondriacal melancholy, could not find out by the symptoms which part was most especially affected; some said the womb, some heart, some stomach, &c., and therefore Crato, consil. 24. lib. 1. boldly avers, that in this diversity of symptoms, which commonly accompany this disease, [2634]no physician can truly say what part is affected. Galen lib. 3. de loc. affect., reckons up these ordinary symptoms, which all the Neoterics repeat of Diocles; only this fault he finds with him, that he puts not fear and sorrow amongst the other signs. Trincavelius excuseth Diocles, lib. 3. consil. 35. because that oftentimes in a strong head and constitution, a generous spirit, and a valiant, these symptoms appear not, by reason of his valour and courage. [2635]Hercules de Saxonia (to whom I subscribe) is of the same mind (which I have before touched) that fear and sorrow are not general symptoms; some fear and are not sad; some be sad and fear not; some neither fear nor grieve. The rest are these, beside fear and sorrow, [2636]sharp belchings, fulsome crudities, heat in the bowels, wind and rumbling in the guts, vehement gripings, pain in the belly and stomach sometimes, after meat that is hard of concoction, much watering of the stomach, and moist spittle, cold sweat, importunus sudor, unseasonable sweat all over the body, as Octavius Horatianus lib. 2. cap. 5. calls it; cold joints, indigestion, [2637]they cannot endure their own fulsome belchings, continual wind about their hypochondries, heat and griping in their bowels, praecordia sursum convelluntur, midriff and bowels are pulled up, the veins about their eyes look red, and swell from vapours and wind. Their ears sing now and then, vertigo and giddiness come by fits, turbulent dreams, dryness, leanness, apt they are to sweat upon all occasions, of all colours and complexions. Many of them are high-coloured especially after meals, which symptom Cardinal Caecius was much troubled with, and of which he complained to Prosper Calenus his physician, he could not eat, or drink a cup of wine, but he was as red in the face as if he had been at a mayor's feast. That symptom alone vexeth many. [2638]Some again are black, pale, ruddy, sometimes their shoulders and shoulder blades ache, there is a leaping all over their bodies, sudden trembling, a palpitation of the heart, and that cardiaca passio, grief in the mouth of the stomach, which maketh the patient think his heart itself acheth, and sometimes suffocation, difficultas anhelitus, short breath, hard wind, strong pulse, swooning. Montanus consil. 55. Trincavelius lib. 3. consil. 36. et 37. Fernelius cons. 43. Frambesarius consult. lib. 1. consil. 17. Hildesheim, Claudinus, &c., give instance of every particular. The peculiar symptoms which properly belong to each part be these. If it proceed from the stomach, saith [2639]Savanarola, 'tis full of pain wind. Guianerius adds, vertigo, nausea, much spitting, &c. If from the mirach, a swelling and wind in the hypochondries, a loathing, and appetite to vomit, pulling upward. If from the heart, aching and trembling of it, much heaviness. If from the liver, there is usually a pain in the right hypochondry. If from the spleen, hardness and grief in the left hypochondry, a rumbling, much appetite and small digestion, Avicenna. If from the mesaraic veins and liver on the other side, little or no appetite, Herc. de Saxonia. If from the hypochondries, a rumbling inflation, concoction is hindered, often belching, &c. And from these crudities, windy vapours ascend up to the brain which trouble the imagination, and cause fear, sorrow, dullness, heaviness, many terrible conceits and chimeras, as Lemnius well observes, l. 1. c. 16. as [2640]a black and thick cloud covers the sun, and intercepts his beams and light, so doth this melancholy vapour obnubilate the mind, enforce it to many absurd thoughts and imaginations, and compel good, wise, honest, discreet men (arising to the brain from the [2641] lower parts, as smoke out of a chimney) to dote, speak, and do that which becomes them not, their persons, callings, wisdoms. One by reason of those ascending vapours and gripings, rumbling beneath, will not be persuaded but that he hath a serpent in his guts, a viper, another frogs. Trallianus relates a story of a woman, that imagined she had swallowed an eel, or a serpent, and Felix Platerus, observat. lib. 1. hath a most memorable example of a countryman of his, that by chance, falling into a pit where frogs and frogs' spawn was, and a little of that water swallowed, began to suspect that he had likewise swallowed frogs' spawn, and with that conceit and fear, his phantasy wrought so far, that he verily thought he had young live frogs in his belly, qui vivebant ex alimento suo, that lived by his nourishment, and was so certainly persuaded of it, that for many years afterwards he could not be rectified in his conceit: He studied physic seven years together to cure himself, travelled into Italy, France and Germany to confer with the best physicians about it, and A.D. 1609, asked his counsel amongst the rest; he told him it was wind, his conceit, &c., but mordicus contradicere, et ore, et scriptis probare nitebatur: no saying would serve, it was no wind, but real frogs: and do you not hear them croak? Platerus would have deceived him, by putting live frog's into his excrements; but he, being a physician himself, would not be deceived, vir prudens alias, et doctus a wise and learned man otherwise, a doctor of physic, and after seven years' dotage in this kind, a phantasia liberatus est, he was cured. Laurentius and Goulart have many such examples, if you be desirous to read them. One commodity above the rest which are melancholy, these windy flatuous have, lucidia intervalla, their symptoms and pains are not usually so continuate as the rest, but come by fits, fear and sorrow, and the rest: yet in another they exceed all others; and that is, [2642]they are luxurious, incontinent, and prone to venery, by reason of wind, et facile amant, et quamlibet fere amant. (Jason Pratensis) [2643]Rhasis is of opinion, that Venus doth many of them much good; the other symptoms of the mind be common with the rest.

SUBSECT. III.—Symptoms of Melancholy abounding in the whole body.

Their bodies that are affected with this universal melancholy are most part black, [2644]the melancholy juice is redundant all over, hirsute they are, and lean, they have broad veins, their blood is gross and thick [2645] Their spleen is weak, and a liver apt to engender the humour; they have kept bad diet, or have had some evacuation stopped, as haemorrhoids, or months in women, which [2646]Trallianus, in the cure, would have carefully to be inquired, and withal to observe of what complexion the party is of, black or red. For as Forrestus and Hollerius contend, if [2647]they be black, it proceeds from abundance of natural melancholy; if it proceed from cares, agony, discontents, diet, exercise, &c., they may be as well of any other colour: red, yellow, pale, as black, and yet their whole blood corrupt: praerubri colore saepe sunt tales, saepe flavi, (saith [2648] Montaltus cap. 22.) The best way to discern this species, is to let them bleed, if the blood be corrupt, thick and black, and they withal free from those hypochondriacal symptoms, and not so grievously troubled with them, or those of the head, it argues they are melancholy, a toto corpore. The fumes which arise from this corrupt blood, disturb the mind, and make them fearful and sorrowful, heavy hearted, as the rest, dejected, discontented, solitary, silent, weary of their lives, dull and heavy, or merry, &c., and if far gone, that which Apuleius wished to his enemy, by way of imprecation, is true in them; [2649]Dead men's bones, hobgoblins, ghosts are ever in their minds, and meet them still in every turn: all the bugbears of the night, and terrors, fairy-babes of tombs, and graves are before their eyes, and in their thoughts, as to women and children, if they be in the dark alone. If they hear, or read, or see any tragical object, it sticks by them, they are afraid of death, and yet weary of their lives, in their discontented humours they quarrel with all the world, bitterly inveigh, tax satirically, and because they cannot otherwise vent their passions or redress what is amiss, as they mean, they will by violent death at last be revenged on themselves.

SUBSECT. IV.—Symptoms of Maids, Nuns, and Widows' Melancholy.

Because Lodovicus Mercatus in his second book de mulier. affect. cap. 4. and Rodericus a Castro de morb. mulier. cap. 3. lib. 2. two famous physicians in Spain, Daniel Sennertus of Wittenberg lib. 1. part 2. cap. 13. with others, have vouchsafed in their works not long since published, to write two just treatises de Melancholia virginum, Monialium et Viduarum, as a particular species of melancholy (which I have already specified) distinct from the rest; [2650](for it much differs from that which commonly befalls men and other women, as having one only cause proper to women alone) I may not omit in this general survey of melancholy symptoms, to set down the particular signs of such parties so misaffected. The causes are assigned out of Hippocrates, Cleopatra, Moschion, and those old Gynaeciorum Scriptores, of this feral malady, in more ancient maids, widows, and barren women, ob septum transversum violatum, saith Mercatus, by reason of the midriff or Diaphragma, heart and brain offended with those vicious vapours which come from menstruous blood, inflammationem arteriae circa dorsum, Rodericus adds, an inflammation of the back, which with the rest is offended by [2651]that fuliginous exhalation of corrupt seed, troubling the brain, heart and mind; the brain, I say, not in essence, but by consent, Universa enim hujus affectus causa ab utero pendet, et a sanguinis menstrui malitia, for in a word, the whole malady proceeds from that inflammation, putridity, black smoky vapours, &c., from thence comes care, sorrow, and anxiety, obfuscation of spirits, agony, desperation, and the like, which are intended or remitted; si amatorius accesserit ardor, or any other violent object or perturbation of mind. This melancholy may happen to widows, with much care and sorrow, as frequently it doth, by reason of a sudden alteration of their accustomed course of life, &c. To such as lie in childbed ob suppressam purgationem; but to nuns and more ancient maids, and some barren women for the causes abovesaid, 'tis more familiar, crebrius his quam reliquis accidit, inquit Rodericus, the rest are not altogether excluded. Out of these causes Rodericus defines it with Areteus, to be angorem animi, a vexation of the mind, a sudden sorrow from a small, light, or no occasion, [2652]with a kind of still dotage and grief of some part or other, head, heart, breasts, sides, back, belly, &c., with much solitariness, weeping, distraction, &c., from which they are sometimes suddenly delivered, because it comes and goes by fits, and is not so permanent as other melancholy. But to leave this brief description, the most ordinary symptoms be these, pulsatio juxta dorsum, a beating about the back, which is almost perpetual, the skin is many times rough, squalid, especially, as Areteus observes, about the arms, knees, and knuckles. The midriff and heart-strings do burn and beat very fearfully, and when this vapour or fume is stirred, flieth upward, the heart itself beats, is sore grieved, and faints, fauces siccitate praecluduntur, ut difficulter possit ab uteri strangulatione decerni, like fits of the mother, Alvus plerisque nil reddit, aliis exiguum, acre, biliosum, lotium flavum. They complain many times, saith Mercatus, of a great pain in their heads, about their hearts, and hypochondries, and so likewise in their breasts, which are often sore, sometimes ready to swoon, their faces are inflamed, and red, they are dry, thirsty, suddenly hot, much troubled with wind, cannot sleep, &c. And from hence proceed ferina deliramenta, a brutish kind of dotage, troublesome sleep, terrible dreams in the night, subrusticus pudor et verecundia ignava, a foolish kind of bashfulness to some, perverse conceits and opinions, [2653]dejection of mind, much discontent, preposterous judgment. They are apt to loath, dislike, disdain, to be weary of every object, &c., each thing almost is tedious to them, they pine away, void of counsel, apt to weep, and tremble, timorous, fearful, sad, and out of all hope of better fortunes. They take delight in nothing for the time, but love to be alone and solitary, though that do them more harm: and thus they are affected so long as this vapour lasteth; but by-and-by, as pleasant and merry as ever they were in their lives, they sing, discourse, and laugh in any good company, upon all occasions, and so by fits it takes them now and then, except the malady be inveterate, and then 'tis more frequent, vehement, and continuate. Many of them cannot tell how to express themselves in words, or how it holds them, what ails them, you cannot understand them, or well tell what to make of their sayings; so far gone sometimes, so stupefied and distracted, they think themselves bewitched, they are in despair, aptae ad fletum, desperationem, dolores mammis et hypocondriis. Mercatus therefore adds, now their breasts, now their hypochondries, belly and sides, then their heart and head aches, now heat, then wind, now this, now that offends, they are weary of all; [2654]and yet will not, cannot again tell how, where or what offends them, though they be in great pain, agony, and frequently complain, grieving, sighing, weeping, and discontented still, sine causa manifesta, most part, yet I say they will complain, grudge, lament, and not be persuaded, but that they are troubled with an evil spirit, which is frequent in Germany, saith Rodericus, amongst the common sort: and to such as are most grievously affected, (for he makes three degrees of this disease in women,) they are in despair, surely forespoken or bewitched, and in extremity of their dotage, (weary of their lives,) some of them will attempt to make away themselves. Some think they see visions, confer with spirits and devils, they shall surely be damned, are afraid of some treachery, imminent danger, and the like, they will not speak, make answer to any question, but are almost distracted, mad, or stupid for the time, and by fits: and thus it holds them, as they are more or less affected, and as the inner humour is intended or remitted, or by outward objects and perturbations aggravated, solitariness, idleness, &c. Many other maladies there are incident to young women, out of that one and only cause above specified, many feral diseases. I will not so much as mention their names, melancholy alone is the subject of my present discourse, from which I will not swerve. The several cures of this infirmity, concerning diet, which must be very sparing, phlebotomy, physic, internal, external remedies, are at large in great variety in [2655] Rodericus a Castro, Sennertus, and Mercatus, which whoso will, as occasion serves, may make use of. But the best and surest remedy of all, is to see them well placed, and married to good husbands in due time, hinc illae, lachrymae, that is the primary cause, and this the ready cure, to give them content to their desires. I write not this to patronise any wanton, idle flirt, lascivious or light housewives, which are too forward many times, unruly, and apt to cast away themselves on him that comes next, without all care, counsel, circumspection, and judgment. If religion, good discipline, honest education, wholesome exhortation, fair promises, fame and loss of good name cannot inhibit and deter such, (which to chaste and sober maids cannot choose but avail much,) labour and exercise, strict diet, rigour and threats may more opportunely be used, and are able of themselves to qualify and divert an ill-disposed temperament. For seldom should you see an hired servant, a poor handmaid, though ancient, that is kept hard to her work, and bodily labour, a coarse country wench troubled in this kind, but noble virgins, nice gentlewomen, such as are solitary and idle, live at ease, lead a life out of action and employment, that fare well, in great houses and jovial companies, ill-disposed peradventure of themselves, and not willing to make any resistance, discontented otherwise, of weak judgment, able bodies, and subject to passions, (grandiores virgines, saith Mercatus, steriles et viduae plerumque melancholicae,) such for the most part are misaffected, and prone to this disease. I do not so much pity them that may otherwise be eased, but those alone that out of a strong temperament, innate constitution, are violently carried away with this torrent of inward humours, and though very modest of themselves, sober, religious, virtuous, and well given, (as many so distressed maids are,) yet cannot make resistance, these grievances will appear, this malady will take place, and now manifestly show itself, and may not otherwise be helped. But where am I? Into what subject have I rushed? What have I to do with nuns, maids, virgins, widows? I am a bachelor myself, and lead a monastic life in a college, nae ego sane ineptus qui haec dixerim,) I confess 'tis an indecorum, and as Pallas a virgin blushed, when Jupiter by chance spake of love matters in her presence, and turned away her face; me reprimam though my subject necessarily require it, I will say no more. And yet I must and will say something more, add a word or two in gratiam virginum et viduarum, in favour of all such distressed parties, in commiseration of their present estate. And as I cannot choose but condole their mishap that labour of this infirmity, and are destitute of help in this case, so must I needs inveigh against them that are in fault, more than manifest causes, and as bitterly tax those tyrannising pseudopoliticians, superstitious orders, rash vows, hard-hearted parents, guardians, unnatural friends, allies, (call them how you will,) those careless and stupid overseers, that out of worldly respects, covetousness, supine negligence, their own private ends (cum sibi sit interim bene) can so severely reject, stubbornly neglect, and impiously contemn, without all remorse and pity, the tears, sighs, groans, and grievous miseries of such poor souls committed to their charge. How odious and abominable are those superstitious and rash vows of Popish monasteries, so to bind and enforce men and women to vow virginity, to lead a single life, against the laws of nature, opposite to religion, policy, and humanity, so to starve, to offer violence, to suppress the vigour of youth, by rigorous statutes, severe laws, vain persuasions, to debar them of that to which by their innate temperature they are so furiously inclined, urgently carried, and sometimes precipitated, even irresistibly led, to the prejudice of their soul's health, and good estate of body and mind: and all for base and private respects, to maintain their gross superstition, to enrich themselves and their territories as they falsely suppose, by hindering some marriages, that the world be not full of beggars, and their parishes pestered with orphans; stupid politicians; haeccine fieri flagilia? ought these things so to be carried? better marry than burn, saith the Apostle, but they are otherwise persuaded. They will by all means quench their neighbour's house if it be on fire, but that fire of lust which breaks out into such lamentable flames, they will not take notice of, their own bowels oftentimes, flesh and blood shall so rage and burn, and they will not see it: miserum est, saith Austin, seipsum non miserescere, and they are miserable in the meantime that cannot pity themselves, the common good of all, and per consequens their own estates. For let them but consider what fearful maladies, feral diseases, gross inconveniences, come to both sexes by this enforced temperance, it troubles me to think of, much more to relate those frequent abortions and murdering of infants in their nunneries (read [2656]Kemnitius and others), and notorious fornications, those Spintrias, Tribadas, Ambubeias, &c., those rapes, incests, adulteries, mastuprations, sodomies, buggeries of monks and friars. See Bale's visitation of abbeys, [2657]Mercurialis, Rodericus a Castro, Peter Forestus, and divers physicians; I know their ordinary apologies and excuses for these things, sed viderint Politici, Medici, Theologi, I shall more opportunely meet with them [2658]elsewhere. [2659]Illius viduae, aut patronum Virginis hujus, Ne me forte putes, verbum non amplius addam.

MEMB. III.

Immediate cause of these precedent Symptoms.

To give some satisfaction to melancholy men that are troubled with these symptoms, a better means in my judgment cannot be taken, than to show them the causes whence they proceed; not from devils as they suppose, or that they are bewitched or forsaken of God, hear or see, &c. as many of them think, but from natural and inward causes, that so knowing them, they may better avoid the effects, or at least endure them with more patience. The most grievous and common symptoms are fear and sorrow, and that without a cause to the wisest and discreetest men, in this malady not to be avoided. The reason why they are so, Aetius discusseth at large, Tetrabib. 2. 2. in his first problem out of Galen, lib. 2. de causis sympt. 1. For Galen imputeth all to the cold that is black, and thinks that the spirits being darkened, and the substance of the brain cloudy and dark, all the objects thereof appear terrible, and the [2660]mind itself, by those dark, obscure, gross fumes, ascending from black humours, is in continual darkness, fear, and sorrow; divers terrible monstrous fictions in a thousand shapes and apparitions occur, with violent passions, by which the brain and fantasy are troubled and eclipsed. [2661]Fracastorius, lib. 2. de intellect, will have cold to be the cause of fear and sorrow; for such as are cold are ill-disposed to mirth, dull, and heavy, by nature solitary, silent; and not for any inward darkness (as physicians think) for many melancholy men dare boldly be, continue, and walk in the dark, and delight in it: solum frigidi timidi: if they be hot, they are merry; and the more hot, the more furious, and void of fear, as we see in madmen; but this reason holds not, for then no melancholy, proceeding from choler adust, should fear. [2662]Averroes scoffs at Galen for his reasons, and brings five arguments to repel them: so doth Herc. de Saxonia, Tract. de Melanch. cap. 3. assigning other causes, which are copiously censured and confuted by Aelianus Montaltus, cap. 5 and 6. Lod. Mercatus de Inter. morb. cur. lib. 1. cap. 17. Altomarus, cap. 7. de mel. Guianerius, tract. 15. c. 1. Bright cap. 37. Laurentius, cap. 5. Valesius, med. cont. lib. 5, con. 1. [2663]Distemperature, they conclude, makes black juice, blackness obscures the spirits, the spirits obscured, cause fear and sorrow. Laurentius, cap. 13. supposeth these black fumes offend specially the diaphragma or midriff, and so per consequens the mind, which is obscured as [2664]the sun by a cloud. To this opinion of Galen, almost all the Greeks and Arabians subscribe, the Latins new and old, internae, tenebrae offuscant animum, ut externae nocent pueris, as children are affrighted in the dark, so are melancholy men at all times, [2665]as having the inward cause with them, and still carrying it about. Which black vapours, whether they proceed from the black blood about the heart, as T. W. Jes. thinks in his treatise of the passions of the mind, or stomach, spleen, midriff, or all the misaffected parts together, it boots not, they keep the mind in a perpetual dungeon, and oppress it with continual fears, anxieties, sorrows, &c. It is an ordinary thing for such as are sound to laugh at this dejected pusillanimity, and those other symptoms of melancholy, to make themselves merry with them, and to wonder at such, as toys and trifles, which may be resisted and withstood, if they will themselves: but let him that so wonders, consider with himself, that if a man should tell him on a sudden, some of his especial friends were dead, could he choose but grieve? Or set him upon a steep rock, where he should be in danger to be precipitated, could he be secure? His heart would tremble for fear, and his head be giddy. P. Byaras, Tract. de pest. gives instance (as I have said) [2666]and put case (saith he) in one that walks upon a plank, if it lie on the ground, he can safely do it: but if the same plank be laid over some deep water, instead of a bridge, he is vehemently moved, and 'tis nothing but his imagination, forma cadendi impressa, to which his other members and faculties obey. Yea, but you infer, that such men have a just cause to fear, a true object of fear; so have melancholy men an inward cause, a perpetual fume and darkness, causing fear, grief, suspicion, which they carry with them, an object which cannot be removed; but sticks as close, and is as inseparable as a shadow to a body, and who can expel or overrun his shadow? Remove heat of the liver, a cold stomach, weak spleen: remove those adust humours and vapours arising from them, black blood from the heart, all outward perturbations, take away the cause, and then bid them not grieve nor fear, or be heavy, dull, lumpish, otherwise counsel can do little good; you may as well bid him that is sick of an ague not to be a dry; or him that is wounded not to feel pain. Suspicion follows fear and sorrow at heels, arising out of the same fountain, so thinks [2667]Fracastorius, that fear is the cause of suspicion, and still they suspect some treachery, or some secret machination to be framed against them, still they distrust. Restlessness proceeds from the same spring, variety of fumes make them like and dislike. Solitariness, avoiding of light, that they are weary of their lives, hate the world, arise from the same causes, for their spirits and humours are opposite to light, fear makes them avoid company, and absent themselves, lest they should be misused, hissed at, or overshoot themselves, which still they suspect. They are prone to venery by reason of wind. Angry, waspish, and fretting still, out of abundance of choler, which causeth fearful dreams and violent perturbations to them, both sleeping and waking: That they suppose they have no heads, fly, sink, they are pots, glasses, &c. is wind in their heads. [2668]Herc. de Saxonia doth ascribe this to the several motions in the animal spirits, their dilation, contraction, confusion, alteration, tenebrosity, hot or cold distemperature, excluding all material humours. [2669]Fracastorius accounts it a thing worthy of inquisition, why they should entertain such false conceits, as that they have horns, great noses, that they are birds, beasts, &c., why they should think themselves kings, lords, cardinals. For the first, [2670] Fracastorius gives two reasons: One is the disposition of the body; the other, the occasion of the fantasy, as if their eyes be purblind, their ears sing, by reason of some cold and rheum, &c. To the second, Laurentius answers, the imagination inwardly or outwardly moved, represents to the understanding, not enticements only, to favour the passion or dislike, but a very intensive pleasure follows the passion or displeasure, and the will and reason are captivated by delighting in it. Why students and lovers are so often melancholy and mad, the philosopher of [2671]Conimbra assigns this reason, because by a vehement and continual meditation of that wherewith they are affected, they fetch up the spirits into the brain, and with the heat brought with them, they incend it beyond measure: and the cells of the inner senses dissolve their temperature, which being dissolved, they cannot perform their offices as they ought. Why melancholy men are witty, which Aristotle hath long since maintained in his problems; and that [2672]all learned men, famous philosophers, and lawgivers, ad unum fere omnes melancholici, have still been melancholy, is a problem much controverted. Jason Pratensis will have it understood of natural melancholy, which opinion Melancthon inclines to, in his book de Anima, and Marcilius Ficinus de san. tuend. lib. 1. cap. 5. but not simple, for that makes men stupid, heavy, dull, being cold and dry, fearful, fools, and solitary, but mixed with the other humours, phlegm only excepted; and they not adust, [2673]but so mixed as that blood he half, with little or no adustion, that they be neither too hot nor too cold. Aponensis, cited by Melancthon, thinks it proceeds from melancholy adust, excluding all natural melancholy as too cold. Laurentius condemns his tenet, because adustion of humours makes men mad, as lime burns when water is cast on it. It must be mixed with blood, and somewhat adust, and so that old aphorism of Aristotle may be verified, Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae, no excellent wit without a mixture of madness. Fracastorius shall decide the controversy, [2674]phlegmatic are dull: sanguine lively, pleasant, acceptable, and merry, but not witty; choleric are too swift in motion, and furious, impatient of contemplation, deceitful wits: melancholy men have the most excellent wits, but not all; this humour may be hot or cold, thick, or thin; if too hot, they are furious and mad: if too cold, dull, stupid, timorous, and sad: if temperate, excellent, rather inclining to that extreme of heat, than cold. This sentence of his will agree with that of Heraclitus, a dry light makes a wise mind, temperate heat and dryness are the chief causes of a good wit; therefore, saith Aelian, an elephant is the wisest of all brute beasts, because his brain is driest, et ob atrae, bilis capiam: this reason Cardan approves, subtil. l. 12. Jo. Baptista Silvaticus, a physician of Milan, in his first controversy, hath copiously handled this question: Rulandus in his problems, Caelius Rhodiginus, lib. 17. Valleriola 6to. narrat. med. Herc. de Saxonia, Tract. posth. de mel. cap. 3. Lodovicus Mercatus, de inter. morb. cur. lib. cap. 17. Baptista Porta, Physiog. lib. 1. c. 13. and many others. Weeping, sighing, laughing, itching, trembling, sweating, blushing, hearing and seeing strange noises, visions, wind, crudity, are motions of the body, depending upon these precedent motions of the mind: neither are tears, affections, but actions (as Scaliger holds) [2675]the voice of such as are afraid, trembles, because the heart is shaken (Conimb. prob. 6. sec. 3. de som.) why they stutter or falter in their speech, Mercurialis and Montaltus, cap. 17. give like reasons out of Hippocrates, [2676]dryness, which makes the nerves of the tongue torpid. Fast speaking (which is a symptom of some few) Aetius will have caused [2677] from abundance of wind, and swiftness of imagination: [2678]baldness comes from excess of dryness, hirsuteness from a dry temperature. The cause of much waking in a dry brain, continual meditation, discontent, fears and cares, that suffer not the mind to be at rest, incontinency is from wind, and a hot liver, Montanus, cons. 26. Rumbling in the guts is caused from wind, and wind from ill concoction, weakness of natural heat, or a distempered heat and cold; [2679]Palpitation of the heart from vapours, heaviness and aching from the same cause. That the belly is hard, wind is a cause, and of that leaping in many parts. Redness of the face, and itching, as if they were flea-bitten, or stung with pismires, from a sharp subtle wind. [2680]Cold sweat from vapours arising from the hypochondries, which pitch upon the skin; leanness for want of good nourishment. Why their appetite is so great, [2681]Aetius answers: Os ventris frigescit, cold in those inner parts, cold belly, and hot liver, causeth crudity, and intention proceeds from perturbations, [2682]our souls for want of spirits cannot attend exactly to so many intentive operations, being exhaust, and overswayed by passion, she cannot consider the reasons which may dissuade her from such affections. [2683]Bashfulness and blushing, is a passion proper to men alone, and is not only caused for [2684]some shame and ignominy, or that they are guilty unto themselves of some foul fact committed, but as [2685]Fracastorius well determines, ob defectum proprium, et timorem, from fear, and a conceit of our defects; the face labours and is troubled at his presence that sees our defects, and nature willing to help, sends thither heat, heat draws the subtlest blood, and so we blush. They that are bold, arrogant, and careless, seldom or never blush, but such as are fearful. Anthonius Lodovicus, in his book de pudore, will have this subtle blood to arise in the face, not so much for the reverence of our betters in presence, [2686]but for joy and pleasure, or if anything at unawares shall pass from us, a sudden accident, occurse, or meeting: (which Disarius in [2687] Macrobius confirms) any object heard or seen, for blind men never blush, as Dandinus observes, the night and darkness make men impudent. Or that we be staid before our betters, or in company we like not, or if anything molest and offend us, erubescentia turns to rubor, blushing to a continuate redness. [2688]Sometimes the extremity of the ears tingle, and are red, sometimes the whole face, Etsi nihil vitiosum commiseris, as Lodovicus holds: though Aristotle is of opinion, omnis pudor ex vitio commisso, all shame for some offence. But we find otherwise, it may as well proceed [2689]from fear, from force and inexperience, (so [2690]Dandinus holds) as vice; a hot liver, saith Duretus (notis in Hollerium:) from a hot brain, from wind, the lungs heated, or after drinking of wine, strong drink, perturbations, &c. Laughter what it is, saith [2691]Tully, how caused, where, and so suddenly breaks out, that desirous to stay it, we cannot, how it comes to possess and stir our face, veins, eyes, countenance, mouth, sides, let Democritus determine. The cause that it often affects melancholy men so much, is given by Gomesius, lib. 3. de sale genial. cap. 18. abundance of pleasant vapours, which, in sanguine melancholy especially, break from the heart, [2692]and tickle the midriff, because it is transverse and full of nerves: by which titillation the sense being moved, and arteries distended, or pulled, the spirits from thence move and possess the sides, veins, countenance, eyes. See more in Jossius de risu et fletu, Vives 3 de Anima. Tears, as Scaliger defines, proceed from grief and pity, [2693]or from the heating of a moist brain, for a dry cannot weep. That they see and hear so many phantasms, chimeras, noises, visions, &c. as Fienus hath discoursed at large in his book of imagination, and [2694] Lavater de spectris, part. 1. cap. 2. 3. 4. their corrupt phantasy makes them see and hear that which indeed is neither heard nor seen, Qui multum jejunant, aut noctes ducunt insomnes, they that much fast, or want sleep, as melancholy or sick men commonly do, see visions, or such as are weak-sighted, very timorous by nature, mad, distracted, or earnestly seek. Sabini quod volunt somniant, as the saying is, they dream of that they desire. Like Sarmiento the Spaniard, who when he was sent to discover the straits of Magellan, and confine places, by the Prorex of Peru, standing on the top of a hill, Amaenissimam planitiem despicere sibi visus fuit, aedificia magnifica, quamplurimos Pagos, alias Turres, splendida Templa, and brave cities, built like ours in Europe, not, saith mine [2695]author, that there was any such thing, but that he was vanissimus et nimis credulus, and would fain have had it so. Or as [2696]Lod. Mercatus proves, by reason of inward vapours, and humours from blood, choler, &c. diversely mixed, they apprehend and see outwardly, as they suppose, divers images, which indeed are not. As they that drink wine think all runs round, when it is in their own brain; so is it with these men, the fault and cause is inward, as Galen affirms, [2697]mad men and such as are near death, quas extra se videre putant Imagines, intra oculos habent, 'tis in their brain, which seems to be before them; the brain as a concave glass reflects solid bodies. Senes etiam decrepiti cerebrum habent concavum et aridum, ut imaginentur se videre (saith [2698]Boissardus) quae non sunt, old men are too frequently mistaken and dote in like case: or as he that looketh through a piece of red glass, judgeth everything he sees to be red; corrupt vapours mounting from the body to the head, and distilling again from thence to the eyes, when they have mingled themselves with the watery crystal which receiveth the shadows of things to be seen, make all things appear of the same colour, which remains in the humour that overspreads our sight, as to melancholy men all is black, to phlegmatic all white, &c. Or else as before the organs corrupt by a corrupt phantasy, as Lemnius, lib. 1. cap. 16. well quotes, [2699]cause a great agitation of spirits, and humours, which wander to and fro in all the creeks of the brain, and cause such apparitions before their eyes. One thinks he reads something written in the moon, as Pythagoras is said to have done of old, another smells brimstone, hears Cerberus bark: Orestes now mad supposed he saw the furies tormenting him, and his mother still ready to run upon him, [2700]O mater obsecro noli me persequi His furiis, aspectu anguineis, horribilibus, Ecce ecce me invadunt, in me jam ruunt;

but Electra told him thus raving in his mad fit, he saw no such sights at all, it was but his crazed imagination. [2701]Quiesce, quiesce miser in linteis tuis, Non cernis etenim quae videre te putas.

So Pentheus (in Bacchis Euripidis) saw two suns, two Thebes, his brain alone was troubled. Sickness is an ordinary cause of such sights. Cardan, subtil. 8. Mens aegra laboribus et jejuniis fracta, facit eos videre, audire, &c. And, Osiander beheld strange visions, and Alexander ab Alexandro both, in their sickness, which he relates de rerum varietat. lib. 8. cap. 44. Albategnius that noble Arabian, on his death-bed, saw a ship ascending and descending, which Fracastorius records of his friend Baptista Tirrianus. Weak sight and a vain persuasion withal, may effect as much, and second causes concurring, as an oar in water makes a refraction, and seems bigger, bended double, &c. The thickness of the air may cause such effects, or any object not well-discerned in the dark, fear and phantasy will suspect to be a ghost, a devil, &c. [2702]Quod nimis miseri timent, hoc facile credunt, we are apt to believe, and mistake in such cases. Marcellus Donatus, lib. 2. cap. 1. brings in a story out of Aristotle, of one Antepharon which likely saw, wheresoever he was, his own image in the air, as in a glass. Vitellio, lib. 10. perspect. hath such another instance of a familiar acquaintance of his, that after the want of three or four nights sleep, as he was riding by a river side, saw another riding with him, and using all such gestures as he did, but when more light appeared, it vanished. Eremites and anchorites have frequently such absurd visions, revelations by reason of much fasting, and bad diet, many are deceived by legerdemain, as Scot hath well showed in his book of the discovery of witchcraft, and Cardan, subtil. 18. suffites, perfumes, suffumigations, mixed candles, perspective glasses, and such natural causes, make men look as if they were dead, or with horse-heads, bull's-horns, and such like brutish shapes, the room full of snakes, adders, dark, light, green, red, of all colours, as you may perceive in Baptista Porta, Alexis, Albertus, and others, glow-worms, fire-drakes, meteors, Ignis fatuus, which Plinius, lib. 2. cap. 37. calls Castor and Pollux, with many such that appear in moorish grounds, about churchyards, moist valleys, or where battles have been fought, the causes of which read in Goclenius, Velouris, Fickius, &c. such fears are often done, to frighten children with squibs, rotten wood, &c. to make folks look as if they were dead, [2703]solito majores, bigger, lesser, fairer, fouler, ut astantes sine capitibus videantur; aut toti igniti, aut forma daemonum, accipe pilos canis nigri, &c. saith Albertus; and so 'tis ordinary to see strange uncouth sights by catoptrics: who knows not that if in a dark room, the light be admitted at one only little hole, and a paper or glass put upon it, the sun shining, will represent on the opposite wall all such objects as are illuminated by his rays? with concave and cylinder glasses, we may reflect any shape of men, devils, antics, (as magicians most part do, to gull a silly spectator in a dark room), we will ourselves, and that hanging in the air, when 'tis nothing but such an horrible image as [2704]Agrippa demonstrates, placed in another room. Roger Bacon of old is said to have represented his own image walking in the air by this art, though no such thing appear in his perspectives. But most part it is in the brain that deceives them, although I may not deny, but that oftentimes the devil deludes them, takes his opportunity to suggest, and represent vain objects to melancholy men, and such as are ill affected. To these you may add the knavish impostures of jugglers, exorcists, mass-priests, and mountebanks, of whom Roger Bacon speaks, &c. de miraculis naturae et artis. cap. 1. [2705]they can counterfeit the voices of all birds and brute beasts almost, all tones and tunes of men, and speak within their throats, as if they spoke afar off, that they make their auditors believe they hear spirits, and are thence much astonished and affrighted with it. Besides, those artificial devices to overhear their confessions, like that whispering place of Gloucester [2706]with us, or like the duke's place at Mantua in Italy, where the sound is reverberated by a concave wall; a reason of which Blancanus in his Echometria gives, and mathematically demonstrates. So that the hearing is as frequently deluded as the sight, from the same causes almost, as he that hears bells, will make them sound what he list. As the fool thinketh, so the bell clinketh. Theophilus in Galen thought he heard music, from vapours which made his ears sound, &c. Some are deceived by echoes, some by roaring of waters, or concaves and reverberation of air in the ground, hollow places and walls. [2707]At Cadurcum, in Aquitaine, words and sentences are repeated by a strange echo to the full, or whatsoever you shall play upon a musical instrument, more distinctly and louder, than they are spoken at first. Some echoes repeat a thing spoken seven times, as at Olympus, in Macedonia, as Pliny relates, lib. 36. cap. 15. Some twelve times, as at Charenton, a village near Paris, in France. At Delphos, in Greece, heretofore was a miraculous echo, and so in many other places. Cardan, subtil. l. 18, hath wonderful stories of such as have been deluded by these echoes. Blancanus the Jesuit, in his Echometria, hath variety of examples, and gives his reader full satisfaction of all such sounds by way of demonstration. [2708]At Barrey, an isle in the Severn mouth, they seem to hear a smith's forge; so at Lipari, and those sulphureous isles, and many such like, which Olaus speaks of in the continent of Scandia, and those northern countries. Cardan de rerum var. l. 15, c. 84, mentioneth a woman, that still supposed she heard the devil call her, and speaking to her, she was a painter's wife in Milan: and many such illusions and voices, which proceed most part from a corrupt imagination. Whence it comes to pass, that they prophesy, speak several languages, talk of astronomy, and other unknown sciences to them (of which they have been ever ignorant): [2709]I have in brief touched, only this I will here add, that Arculanus, Bodin. lib. 3, cap. 6, daemon. and some others, [2710] hold as a manifest token that such persons are possessed with the devil; so doth [2711]Hercules de Saxonia, and Apponensis, and fit only to be cured by a priest. But [2712]Guianerius, [2713]Montaltus, Pomporiatius of Padua, and Lemnius lib. 2. cap. 2, refer it wholly to the ill-disposition of the [2714]humour, and that out of the authority of Aristotle prob. 30. 1, because such symptoms are cured by purging; and as by the striking of a flint fire is enforced, so by the vehement motion of spirits, they do elicere voces inauditas, compel strange speeches to be spoken: another argument he hath from Plato's reminiscentia, which all out as likely as that which [2715]Marsilius Ficinus speaks of his friend Pierleonus; by a divine kind of infusion he understood the secrets of nature, and tenets of Grecian and barbarian philosophers, before ever he heard of, saw, or read their works: but in this I should rather hold with Avicenna and his associates, that such symptoms proceed from evil spirits, which take all opportunities of humours decayed, or otherwise to pervert the soul of man: and besides, the humour itself is balneum diaboli, the devil's bath; and as Agrippa proves, doth entice him to seize upon them.

SECT. IV. MEMB. I.

Prognostics of Melancholy.

Prognostics, or signs of things to come, are either good or bad. If this malady be not hereditary, and taken at the beginning, there is good hope of cure, recens curationem non habet difficilem, saith Avicenna, l. 3, Fen. 1, Tract. 4, c. 18. That which is with laughter, of all others is most secure, gentle, and remiss, Hercules de Saxonia. [2716]If that evacuation of haemorrhoids, or varices, which they call the water between the skin, shall happen to a melancholy man, his misery is ended, Hippocrates Aphor. 6, 11. Galen l. 6, de morbis vulgar. com. 8, confirms the same; and to this aphorism of Hippocrates, all the Arabians, new and old Latins subscribe; Montaltus c. 25, Hercules de Saxonia, Mercurialis, Vittorius Faventinus, &c. Skenkius, l. 1, observat. med. c. de Mania, illustrates this aphorism, with an example of one Daniel Federer a coppersmith that was long melancholy, and in the end mad about the 27th year of his age, these varices or water began to arise in his thighs, and he was freed from his madness. Marius the Roman was so cured, some, say, though with great pain. Skenkius hath some other instances of women that have been helped by flowing of their mouths, which before were stopped. That the opening of the haemorrhoids will do as much for men, all physicians jointly signify, so they be voluntary, some say, and not by compulsion. All melancholy are better after a quartan; [2717]Jobertus saith, scarce any man hath that ague twice; but whether it free him from this malady, 'tis a question; for many physicians ascribe all long agues for especial causes, and a quartan ague amongst the rest. [2718]Rhasis cont. lib. 1, tract. 9. When melancholy gets out at the superficies of the skin, or settles breaking out in scabs, leprosy, morphew, or is purged by stools, or by the urine, or that the spleen is enlarged, and those varices appear, the disease is dissolved. Guianerius, cap. 5, tract. 15, adds dropsy, jaundice, dysentery, leprosy, as good signs, to these scabs, morphews, and breaking out, and proves it out of the 6th of Hippocrates' Aphorisms. Evil prognostics on the other part. Inveterata melancholia incurabilis, if it be inveterate, it is [2719]incurable, a common axiom, aut difficulter curabilis as they say that make the best, hardly cured. This Galen witnesseth, l. 3, de loc. affect. cap. 6, [2720]be it in whom it will, or from what cause soever, it is ever long, wayward, tedious, and hard to be cured, if once it be habituated. As Lucian said of the gout, she was [2721]the queen of diseases, and inexorable, may we say of melancholy. Yet Paracelsus will have all diseases whatsoever curable, and laughs at them which think otherwise, as T. Erastus par. 3, objects to him; although in another place, hereditary diseases he accounts incurable, and by no art to be removed. [2722]Hildesheim spicel. 2, de mel. holds it less dangerous if only [2723]imagination be hurt, and not reason, [2724]the gentlest is from blood. Worse from choler adust, but the worst of all from melancholy putrefied. [2725]Bruel esteems hypochondriacal least dangerous, and the other two species (opposite to Galen) hardest to be cured. [2726]The cure is hard in man, but much more difficult in women. And both men and women must take notice of that saying of Montanus consil. 230, pro Abate Italo, [2727]This malady doth commonly accompany them to their grave; physicians may ease, and it may lie hid for a time, but they cannot quite cure it, but it will return again more violent and sharp than at first, and that upon every small occasion or error: as in Mercury's weather-beaten statue, that was once all over gilt, the open parts were clean, yet there was in fimbriis aurum, in the chinks a remnant of gold: there will be some relics of melancholy left in the purest bodies (if once tainted) not so easily to be rooted out. [2728] Oftentimes it degenerates into epilepsy, apoplexy, convulsions, and blindness: by the authority of Hippocrates and Galen, [2729]all aver, if once it possess the ventricles of the brain, Frambesarius, and Salust. Salvianus adds, if it get into the optic nerves, blindness. Mercurialis, consil. 20, had a woman to his patient, that from melancholy became epileptic and blind. [2730]If it come from a cold cause, or so continue cold, or increase, epilepsy; convulsions follow, and blindness, or else in the end they are moped, sottish, and in all their actions, speeches, and gestures, ridiculous. [2731]If it come from a hot cause, they are more furious, and boisterous, and in conclusion mad. Calescentem melancholiam saepius sequitur mania. [2732]If it heat and increase, that is the common event, [2733]per circuitus, aut semper insanit, he is mad by fits, or altogether. For as [2734]Sennertus contends out of Crato, there is seminarius ignis in this humour, the very seeds of fire. If it come from melancholy natural adust, and in excess, they are often demoniacal, Montanus. [2735]Seldom this malady procures death, except (which is the greatest, most grievous calamity, and the misery of all miseries,) they make away themselves, which is a frequent thing, and familiar amongst them. 'Tis [2736]Hippocrates' observation, Galen's sentence, Etsi mortem timent, tamen plerumque sibi ipsis mortem consciscunt, l. 3. de locis affec. cap. 7. The doom of all physicians. 'Tis [2737]Rabbi Moses' Aphorism, the prognosticon of Avicenna, Rhasis, Aetius, Gordonius, Valescus, Altomarus, Salust. Salvianus, Capivaccius, Mercatus, Hercules de Saxonia, Piso, Bruel, Fuchsius, all, &c. [2738]Et saepe usque adeo mortis formidine vitae Percipit infelix odium lucisque videndae, Ut sibi consciscat maerenti pectore lethum.

And so far forth death's terror doth affright, He makes away himself, and hates the light To make an end of fear and grief of heart, He voluntary dies to ease his smart.

In such sort doth the torture and extremity of his misery torment him, that he can take no pleasure in his life, but is in a manner enforced to offer violence unto himself, to be freed from his present insufferable pains. So some (saith [2739]Fracastorius) in fury, but most in despair, sorrow, fear, and out of the anguish and vexation of their souls, offer violence to themselves: for their life is unhappy and miserable. They can take no rest in the night, nor sleep, or if they do slumber, fearful dreams astonish them. In the daytime they are affrighted still by some terrible object, and torn in pieces with suspicion, fear, sorrow, discontents, cares, shame, anguish, &c. as so many wild horses, that they cannot be quiet an hour, a minute of time, but even against their wills they are intent, and still thinking of it, they cannot forget it, it grinds their souls day and night, they are perpetually tormented, a burden to themselves, as Job was, they can neither eat, drink or sleep. Psal. cvii. 18. Their soul abhorreth all meat, and they are brought to death's door, [2740]being bound in misery and iron: they [2741]curse their stars with Job, [2742]and day of their birth, and wish for death: for as Pineda and most interpreters hold, Job was even melancholy to despair, and almost [2743]madness itself; they murmur many times against the world, friends, allies, all mankind, even against God himself in the bitterness of their passion, [2744]vivere nolunt, mori nesciunt, live they will not, die they cannot. And in the midst of these squalid, ugly, and such irksome days, they seek at last, finding no comfort, [2745]no remedy in this wretched life, to be eased of all by death. Omnia appetunt bonum, all creatures seek the best, and for their good as they hope, sub specie, in show at least, vel quia mori pulchrum putant (saith [2746]Hippocrates) vel quia putant inde se majoribus malis liberari, to be freed as they wish. Though many times, as Aesop's fishes, they leap from the frying-pan into the fire itself, yet they hope to be eased by this means: and therefore (saith Felix [2747]Platerus) after many tedious days at last, either by drowning, hanging, or some such fearful end, they precipitate or make away themselves: many lamentable examples are daily seen amongst us: alius ante, fores se laqueo suspendit (as Seneca notes), alius se praecipitavit a tecto, ne dominum stomachantem audiret, alius ne reduceretur a fuga ferrum redegit in viscera, one hangs himself before his own door,—another throws himself from the house-top, to avoid his master's anger,—a third, to escape expulsion, plunges a dagger into his heart,—so many causes there are—His amor exitio est, furor his—love, grief, anger, madness, and shame, &c. 'Tis a common calamity, [2748]a fatal end to this disease, they are condemned to a violent death, by a jury of physicians, furiously disposed, carried headlong by their tyrannising wills, enforced by miseries, and there remains no more to such persons, if that heavenly Physician, by his assisting grace and mercy alone do not prevent, (for no human persuasion or art can help) but to be their own butchers, and execute themselves. Socrates his cicuta, Lucretia's dagger, Timon's halter, are yet to be had; Cato's knife, and Nero's sword are left behind them, as so many fatal engines, bequeathed to posterity, and will be used to the world's end, by such distressed souls: so intolerable, insufferable, grievous, and violent is their pain, [2749]so unspeakable and continuate. One day of grief is an hundred years, as Cardan observes: 'Tis carnificina hominum, angor animi, as well saith Areteus, a plague of the soul, the cramp and convulsion of the soul, an epitome of hell; and if there be a hell upon earth, it is to be found in a melancholy man's heart. For that deep torture may be call'd an hell, When more is felt, than one hath power to tell.

Yea, that which scoffing Lucian said of the gout in jest, I may truly affirm of melancholy in earnest. [2750]O triste nomen! o diis odibile Melancholia lacrymosa, Cocyti filia, Tu Tartari specubus opacis edita Erinnys, utero quam Megara suo tulit, Et ab uberibus aluit, cuique parvidae Amarulentum in os lac Alecto dedit, Omnes abominabilem te daemones Produxere in lucem, exitio mortalium. Et paulo post Non Jupiter ferit tale telum fulminis, Non ulla sic procella saevit aequoris, Non impetuosi tanta vis est turbinis. An asperos sustineo morsus Cerberi? Num virus Echidnae membra mea depascitur? Aut tunica sanie tincta Nessi sanguinis? Illacrymabile et immedicabile malum hoc.

O sad and odious name! a name so fell, Is this of melancholy, brat of hell. There born in hellish darkness doth it dwell, The Furies brought it up, Megara's teat, Alecto gave it bitter milk to eat. And all conspir'd a bane to mortal men, To bring this devil out of that black den. Jupiter's thunderbolt, not storm at sea, Nor whirlwind doth our hearts so much dismay. What? am I bit by that fierce Cerberus? Or stung by [2751]serpent so pestiferous? Or put on shirt that's dipt in Nessus' blood? My pain's past cure; physic can do no good.

No torture of body like unto it, Siculi non invenere tyranni majus tormentum, no strappadoes, hot irons, Phalaris' bulls, [2752]Nec ira deum tantum, nec tela, nec hostis, Quantum sola noces animis illapsa.

Jove's wrath, nor devils can Do so much harm to th' soul of man.

All fears, griefs, suspicions, discontents, imbonites, insuavities are swallowed up, and drowned in this Euripus, this Irish sea, this ocean of misery, as so many small brooks; 'tis coagulum omnium aerumnarum: which [2753]Ammianus applied to his distressed Palladins. I say of our melancholy man, he is the cream of human adversity, the [2754] quintessence, and upshot; all other diseases whatsoever, are but flea-bitings to melancholy in extent: 'Tis the pith of them all, [2755] Hospitium est calamitatis; quid verbis opus est? Quamcunque malam rem quaeris, illic reperies:

What need more words? 'tis calamities inn, Where seek for any mischief, 'tis within;

and a melancholy man is that true Prometheus, which is bound to Caucasus; the true Titius, whose bowels are still by a vulture devoured (as poets feign) for so doth [2756]Lilius Geraldus interpret it, of anxieties, and those griping cares, and so ought it to be understood. In all other maladies, we seek for help, if a leg or an arm ache, through any distemperature or wound, or that we have an ordinary disease, above all things whatsoever, we desire help and health, a present recovery, if by any means possible it may be procured; we will freely part with all our other fortunes, substance, endure any misery, drink bitter potions, swallow those distasteful pills, suffer our joints to be seared, to be cut off, anything for future health: so sweet, so dear, so precious above all other things in this world is life: 'tis that we chiefly desire, long life and happy days, [2757]multos da Jupiter annos, increase of years all men wish; but to a melancholy man, nothing so tedious, nothing so odious; that which they so carefully seek to preserve [2758]he abhors, he alone; so intolerable are his pains; some make a question, graviores morbi corporis an animi, whether the diseases of the body or mind be more grievous, but there is no comparison, no doubt to be made of it, multo enim saevior longeque est atrocior animi, quam corporis cruciatus (Lem. l. 1. c. 12.) the diseases of the mind are far more grievous.—Totum hic pro vulnere corpus, body and soul is misaffected here, but the soul especially. So Cardan testifies de rerum var. lib. 8. 40. [2759]Maximus Tyrius a Platonist, and Plutarch, have made just volumes to prove it. [2760]Dies adimit aegritudinem hominibus, in other diseases there is some hope likely, but these unhappy men are born to misery, past all hope of recovery, incurably sick, the longer they live the worse they are, and death alone must ease them. Another doubt is made by some philosophers, whether it be lawful for a man in such extremity of pain and grief, to make away himself: and how these men that so do are to be censured. The Platonists approve of it, that it is lawful in such cases, and upon a necessity; Plotinus l. de beatitud. c. 7. and Socrates himself defends it, in Plato's Phaedon, if any man labour of an incurable disease, he may despatch himself, if it be to his good. Epicurus and his followers, the cynics and stoics in general affirm it, Epictetus and [2761]Seneca amongst the rest, quamcunque veram esse viam ad libertatem, any way is allowable that leads to liberty, [2762]let us give God thanks, that no man is compelled to live against his will; [2763] quid ad hominem claustra, career, custodia? liberum ostium habet, death is always ready and at hand. Vides illum praecipitem locum, illud flumen, dost thou see that steep place, that river, that pit, that tree, there's liberty at hand, effugia servitutis et doloris sunt, as that Laconian lad cast himself headlong (non serviam aiebat puer) to be freed of his misery: every vein in thy body, if these be nimis operosi exitus, will set thee free, quid tua refert finem facias an accipias? there's no necessity for a man to live in misery. Malum est necessitati vivere; sed in necessitate vivere, necessitas nulla est. Ignavus qui sine causa moritur, et stultus qui cum dolore vivit. Idem epi. 58. Wherefore hath our mother the earth brought out poisons, saith [2764]Pliny, in so great a quantity, but that men in distress might make away themselves? which kings of old had ever in a readiness, ad incerta fortunae venenum sub custode promptum, Livy writes, and executioners always at hand. Speusippes being sick was met by Diogenes, and carried on his slaves' shoulders, he made his moan to the philosopher; but I pity thee not, quoth Diogenes, qui cum talis vivere sustines, thou mayst be freed when thou wilt, meaning by death. [2765]Seneca therefore commends Cato, Dido, and Lucretia, for their generous courage in so doing, and others that voluntarily die, to avoid a greater mischief, to free themselves from misery, to save their honour, or vindicate their good name, as Cleopatra did, as Sophonisba, Syphax's wife did, Hannibal did, as Junius Brutus, as Vibius Virus, and those Campanian senators in Livy (Dec. 3. lib. 6.) to escape the Roman tyranny, that poisoned themselves. Themistocles drank bull's blood, rather than he would fight against his country, and Demosthenes chose rather to drink poison, Publius Crassi filius, Censorius and Plancus, those heroical Romans to make away themselves, than to fall into their enemies' hands. How many myriads besides in all ages might I remember, qui sibi lethum Insontes pepperere manu, &c. [2766]Rhasis in the Maccabees is magnified for it, Samson's death approved. So did Saul and Jonas sin, and many worthy men and women, quorum memoria celebratur in Ecclesia, saith [2767]Leminchus, for killing themselves to save their chastity and honour, when Rome was taken, as Austin instances, l. 1. de Civit. Dei, cap. 16. Jerome vindicateth the same in Ionam and Ambrose, l. 3. de virginitate commendeth Pelagia for so doing. Eusebius, lib. 8. cap. 15. admires a Roman matron for the same fact to save herself from the lust of Maxentius the Tyrant. Adelhelmus, abbot of Malmesbury, calls them Beatas virgines quae sic, &c. Titus Pomponius Atticus, that wise, discreet, renowned Roman senator, Tully's dear friend, when he had been long sick, as he supposed, of an incurable disease, vitamque produceret ad augendos dolores, sine spe salutis, was resolved voluntarily by famine to despatch himself to be rid of his pain; and when as Agrippa, and the rest of his weeping friends earnestly besought him, osculantes obsecrarent ne id quod natura cogeret, ipse acceleraret, not to offer violence to himself, with a settled resolution he desired again they would approve of his good intent, and not seek to dehort him from it: and so constantly died, precesque eorum taciturna sua obstinatione depressit. Even so did Corellius Rufus, another grave senator, by the relation of Plinius Secundus, epist. lib. 1. epist. 12. famish himself to death; pedibus correptus cum incredibiles cruciatus et indignissima tormenta pateretur, a cibis omnino abstinuit; [2768]neither he nor Hispilla his wife could divert him, but destinatus mori obstinate magis, &c. die he would, and die he did. So did Lycurgus, Aristotle, Zeno, Chrysippus, Empedocles, with myriads, &c. In wars for a man to run rashly upon imminent danger, and present death, is accounted valour and magnanimity, [2769]to be the cause of his own, and many a thousand's ruin besides, to commit wilful murder in a manner, of himself and others, is a glorious thing, and he shall be crowned for it. The [2770] Massegatae in former times, [2771]Barbiccians, and I know not what nations besides, did stifle their old men, after seventy years, to free them from those grievances incident to that age. So did the inhabitants of the island of Choa, because their air was pure and good, and the people generally long lived, antevertebant fatum suum, priusquam manci forent, aut imbecillitas accederet, papavere vel cicuta, with poppy or hemlock they prevented death. Sir Thomas More in his Utopia commends voluntary death, if he be sibi aut aliis molestus, troublesome to himself or others, ([2772] especially if to live be a torment to him,) let him free himself with his own hands from this tedious life, as from a prison, or suffer himself to be freed by others. [2773]And 'tis the same tenet which Laertius relates of Zeno, of old, Juste sapiens sibi mortem consciscit, si in acerbis doloribus versetur, membrorum mutilatione aut morbis aegre curandis, and which Plato 9. de legibus approves, if old age, poverty, ignominy, &c. oppress, and which Fabius expresseth in effect. (Praefat. 7. Institut.) Nemo nisi sua culpa diu dolet. It is an ordinary thing in China, (saith Mat. Riccius the Jesuit,) [2774]if they be in despair of better fortunes, or tired and tortured with misery, to bereave themselves of life, and many times, to spite their enemies the more, to hang at their door. Tacitus the historian, Plutarch the philosopher, much approve a voluntary departure, and Aust. de civ. Dei, l. 1. c. 29. defends a violent death, so that it be undertaken in a good cause, nemo sic mortuus, qui non fuerat aliquando moriturus; quid autem interest, quo mortis genere vita ista finiatur, quando ille cui finitur, iterum mori non cogitur? &c. [2775]no man so voluntarily dies, but volens nolens, he must die at last, and our life is subject to innumerable casualties, who knows when they may happen, utrum satius est unam perpeti moriendo, an omnes timere vivendo, [2776] rather suffer one, than fear all. Death is better than a bitter life, Eccl. xxx. 17. [2777]and a harder choice to live in fear, than by once dying, to be freed from all. Theombrotus Ambraciotes persuaded I know not how many hundreds of his auditors, by a luculent oration he made of the miseries of this, and happiness of that other life, to precipitate themselves. And having read Plato's divine tract de anima, for example's sake led the way first. That neat epigram of Callimachus will tell you as much,

[2778]Jamque vale Soli cum diceret Ambrociotes, In Stygios fertur desiluisse lacus,

Morte nihil dignum passus: sed forte Platonis Divini eximum de nece legit opus.

[2779]Calenus and his Indians hated of old to die a natural death: the Circumcellians and Donatists, loathing life, compelled others to make them away, with many such: [2780]but these are false and pagan positions, profane stoical paradoxes, wicked examples, it boots not what heathen philosophers determine in this kind, they are impious, abominable, and upon a wrong ground. No evil is to be done that good may come of it; reclamat Christus, reclamat Scriptura, God, and all good men are [2781]against it: He that stabs another, can kill his body; but he that stabs himself, kills his own soul. [2782]Male meretur, qui dat mendico, quod edat; nam et illud quod dat, perit; et illi producit vitam ad miseriam: he that gives a beggar an alms (as that comical poet said) doth ill, because he doth but prolong his miseries. But Lactantius l. 6. c. 7. de vero cultu, calls it a detestable opinion, and fully confutes it, lib. 3. de sap. cap. 18. and S. Austin, epist. 52. ad Macedonium, cap. 61. ad Dulcitium Tribunum: so doth Hierom to Marcella of Blesilla's death, Non recipio tales animas, &c., he calls such men martyres stultae Philosophiae: so doth Cyprian de duplici martyrio; Si qui sic moriantur, aut infirmitas, aut ambitio, aut dementia cogit eos; 'tis mere madness so to do, [2783]furore est ne moriare mori. To this effect writes Arist. 3. Ethic. Lipsius Manuduc. ad Stoicam Philosophiaem lib. 3. dissertat. 23. but it needs no confutation. This only let me add, that in some cases, those [2784]hard censures of such as offer violence to their own persons, or in some desperate fit to others, which sometimes they do, by stabbing, slashing, &c. are to be mitigated, as in such as are mad, beside themselves for the time, or found to have been long melancholy, and that in extremity, they know not what they do, deprived of reason, judgment, all, [2785]as a ship that is void of a pilot, must needs impinge upon the next rock or sands, and suffer shipwreck. [2786]P. Forestus hath a story of two melancholy brethren, that made away themselves, and for so foul a fact, were accordingly censured to be infamously buried, as in such cases they use: to terrify others, as it did the Milesian virgins of old; but upon farther examination of their misery and madness, the censure was [2787]revoked, and they were solemnly interred, as Saul was by David, 2 Sam. ii. 4. and Seneca well adviseth, Irascere interfectori, sed miserere interfecti; be justly offended with him as he was a murderer, but pity him now as a dead man. Thus of their goods and bodies we can dispose; but what shall become of their souls, God alone can tell; his mercy may come inter pontem et fontem, inter gladium et jugulum, betwixt the bridge and the brook, the knife and the throat. Quod cuiquam contigit, quivis potest: Who knows how he may be tempted? It is his case, it may be thine: [2788]Quae sua sors hodie est, eras fore vestra potest. We ought not to be so rash and rigorous in our censures, as some are; charity will judge and hope the best: God be merciful unto us all.

THE SYNOPSIS OF THE SECOND PARTITION.

Cure of melancholy is either

Sect 1. General to all, which contains

Unlawful means forbidden,

Memb. 1. From the devil, magicians, witches, &c., by charms, spells, incantations, &c.

Quest. 1. Whether they can cure this, or other such like diseases?

Quest. 2. Whether, if they can so cure, it be lawful to seek to them for help?

or Lawful means, which are

Memb. 2. Immediately from God, a Jove principium by prayer &c.

Memb. 3. Quest. 1. Whether saints and their relics can help this infirmity?

Quest. 2. Whether it be lawful to sue to them for aid.

or Memb. 4. Mediately by Nature which concerns and works by

Subsect. 1. Physician, in whom is required science, confidence, honesty, &c.

Subsect. 2. Patient, in whom is required obedience, constancy, willingness, patience, confidence, bounty, &c., not to practise on himself.

Subsect. 3. Physic, which consists of

Dietetical ♈

Pharmaceutical ♉

Chirurgical ♊

or Particular to the three distinct species, ♋ ♌ ♍

♈ Sect. 2. Dietetical, which consists in reforming those six non-natural things, as in

Diet rectified 1. Memb.

Matter and quality 1 Subs.

Such meats as are easy of digestion, well-dressed, hot, sod, &c., young, moist, of good nourishment, &c.

Bread of pure wheat, well-baked.

Water clear from the fountain.

Wine and drink not too strong, &c.

Flesh

Mountain birds, partridge, pheasant, quails, &c. Hen, capon, mutton, veal, kid, rabbit, &c.

Fish

That live in gravelly waters, as pike, perch, trout, sea-fish, solid, white, &c.

Herbs

Borage, bugloss, balm, succory, endive, violets, in broth, not raw, &c.

Fruits and roots.

Raisins of the sun, apples corrected for wind, oranges, &c., parsnips, potatoes, &c.

or Subs. 2. Quantity.

At seasonable and unusual times of repast, in good order, not before the first be concocted, sparing, not overmuch of one dish.

Memb. 2. Rectification of retention and evacuation, as costiveness, venery, bleeding at nose, months stopped, baths, &c.

Memb. 3. Air rectified, with a digression of the air

Naturally in the choice and site of our country, dwelling-place, to be hot and moist, light, wholesome, pleasant &c.

Artificially, by often change of air, avoiding winds, fogs, tempests, opening windows, perfumes, &c.

Memb. 4. Exercise

Of body and mind, but moderate, as hawking, hunting, riding, shooting, bowling, fishing, fowling, walking in fair fields, galleries, tennis, bar.

Of mind, as chess, cards, tables &c., to see plays, masks, &c., serious studies, business, all honest recreations.

Memb. 5. Rectification of waking and terrible dreams, &c.

Memb. 6. Rectification of passions and perturbations of the mind. ♎

Memb. 6. Passions and perturbations of the mind rectified.

From himself

Subsect. 1. By using all good means of help, confessing to a friend, &c.

Avoiding all occasions of his infirmity.

Not giving way to passions, but resisting to his utmost.

or from his friends.

Subsect. 2. By fair and foul means, counsel, comfort, good persuasion, witty devices, fictions, and, if it be possible, to satisfy his mind.

Subsect. 3. Music of all sorts aptly applied.

Subsect. 4. Mirth and merry company. Sect. 3. A consolatory digression, containing remedies to all discontents and passions of the mind.

Memb. 1. General discontents and grievances satisfied.

Memb. 2. Particular discontents, as deformity of body, sickness, baseness of birth, &c.

Memb. 3. Poverty and want, such calamites and adversities.

Memb. 4. Against servitude, loss of liberty, imprisonment, banishment, &c.

Memb. 5. Against vain fears, sorrows for death of friends, or otherwise.

Memb. 6. Against envy, livor, hatred, malice, emulation, ambition, and self-love, &c.

Memb. 7. Against repulses, abuses, injuries, contempts, disgraces, contumelies, slanders, and scoffs, &c.

Memb. 8. Against all other grievous and ordinary symptoms of this disease of melancholy.

♉ Sect. 4. Pharmaceutics, or Physic which cureth with medicines, with a digression of this kind of physic, is either Memb. 1. Subsect. 1.

General to all

Alterative

Simples altering melancholy, with a digression of exotic simples 2. Subs.

Herbs. 3. Subs.

To the heart; borage, bugloss, scorzonera, &c.

To the head; balm, hops, nenuphar, &c.

Liver; eupatory, artemisia, &c.

Stomach; wormwood, centaury, pennyroyal.

Spleen; ceterache, ash, tamarisk.

To Purify the blood; endive, succory, &c.

Against wind; origan, fennel, aniseed, &c.

4. Subs Precious stones; as smaragdes, chelidonies, &c. Minerals;

or compounds altering melancholy, with a digression of compounds. 5. Subs.

Inwardly taken

Liquid

fluid

Wines; as of hellebore, bugloss, tamarisk, &c.

Syrups of borage, bugloss, hops, epithyme, endive, succory, &c.

or consisting.

Conserves of violets, maidenhair, borage, bugloss, roses, &c.

Confections; treacle, mithridate, eclegms or linctures.

or solid, as those aromatical confections.

hot

Diambra, dianthos.

Diamargaritum calidum.

Diamoscum dulce.

Electuarium de gemmis.

Laetificans Galeni et Rhasis.

or cold

Diamargaritum frigidum.

Diarrhodon abbatis.

Diacorolli, diacodium with their tables.

Condites of all sorts, &c.

or Outwardly used, as

Oils of camomile, violets, roses, &c.

Ointments, alablastritum, populeum, &c.

Liniments, plasters, cerotes, cataplasms, frontals, fomentations, epithymes, sacks, bags, odoraments, posies, &c.

or Purging ☾

or Particular to three distinct species, ♋ ♌ ♍.

Medicines purging melancholy are either Memb. 2.

Simples purging melancholy

1. Subs. Upward, as vomits

Asrabecca, laurel, white hellebore, scilla, or sea-onion, antimony, tobacco

or Downward. 2. Subs.

More gentle; as senna, epithyme, polypody, mirobalanes, fumitory, &c.

Stronger; aloes, lapis Armenus, lapis lazuli, black hellebore.

or 3. Subs. Compounds purging melancholy

Superior parts

Mouth

swallowed

Liquid, as potions, juleps, syrups, wine of hellebore, bugloss, &c.

Solid, as lapis Armenus, and lazuli, pills of Indie, pills of fumitory, &c.

Electuaries, diasena, confection of hamech, hierologladium, &c.

or Not swallowed, as gargarisms, masticatories, &c.

or Nostrils, sneezing powders, odoraments, perfumes, &c.

or Inferior parts, as clysters strong and weak, and suppositories of Castilian soap, honey boiled, &c.

♊ Chirurgical physic, which consists of Memb. 3.

Phlebotomy, to all parts almost, and all the distinct species.

With knife, horseleeches.

Cupping-glasses.

Cauteries, and searing with hot irons, boring.

Dropax and sinapismus.

Issues to several parts, and upon several occasions.

♋ Sect. 5. Cure of head-melancholy. Memb. 1.

1. Subsect. Moderate diet, meat of good juice, moistening, easy of digestion.

Good air.

Sleep more than ordinary.

Excrements daily to be voided by art or nature.

Exercise of body and mind not too violent, or too remiss, passions of the mind, and perturbations to be avoided.

Subsect. 2. Bloodletting, if there be need, or that the blood be corrupt, in the arm, forehead, &c., or with cupping-glasses.

Subsect. 3. Preparatives and purgers.

Preparatives; as syrup of borage, bugloss, epithyme, hops, with their distilled waters, &c.

Purgers; as Montanus, and Matthiolus helleborismus, Quercetanus, syrup of hellebore, extract of hellebore, pulvis Hali, antimony prepared, Rulandi aqua mirabilis; which are used, if gentler medicines will not take place, with Arnoldus, vinum buglossatum, senna, cassia, mirobalanes, aurum potabile, or before Hamech, Pil. Indae, Hiera, Pil. de lap. Armeno, lazuli.

Subsect. 4. Averters.

Cardan's nettles, frictions, clysters, suppositories, sneezings, masticatories, nasals, cupping-glasses.

To open the haemorrhoids with horseleeches, to apply horseleeches to the forehead without scarification, to the shoulders, thighs.

Issues, boring, cauteries, hot irons in the suture of the crown.

Subsect. 5. Cordials, resolvers, hinderers.

A cup of wine or strong drink.

Bezars stone, amber, spice.

Conserves of borage, bugloss, roses, fumitory.

Confection of Alchermes.

Electuarium laetificans Galeni et Rhasis, &c.

Diamargaritum frig. diaboraginatum, &c.

Subsect. 6. Correctors of accidents, as,

Odoraments of roses, violets.

Irrigations of the head, with the decoctions of nymphea, lettuce, mallows, &c.

Epithymes, ointments, bags to the heart.

Fomentations of oil for the belly.

Baths of sweet water, in which were sod mallows, violets, roses, water-lilies, borage flowers, ramsheads, &c.

To procure sleep, and are

Inwardly taken,

Simples

Poppy, nymphea, lettuce, roses, purslane, henbane, mandrake, nightshade, opium, &c.

or Compounds.

Liquid, as syrups of poppy, verbasco, violets, roses.

Solid, as requies Nicholai, Philonium, Romanum, Laudanum Paracelsi.

or Outwardly used, as

Oil of nymphea, poppy, violets, roses, mandrake, nutmegs.

Odoraments of vinegar, rosewater, opium.

Frontals of rose-cake, rose-vinegar, nutmeg.

Ointments, alablastritum, unguentum populeum, simple or mixed with opium.

Irrigations of the head, feet, sponges, music, murmur and noise of waters.

Frictions of the head and outward parts, sacculi of henbane, wormwood at his pillow, &c.

Against terrible dreams; not to sup late, or eat peas, cabbage, venison, meats heavy of digestion, use balm, hart's-tongue, &c.

Against ruddiness and blushing, inward and outward remedies.

♌ 2. Memb. Cure of melancholy over the body.

Diet, preparatives, purges, averters, cordials, correctors, as before.

Phlebotomy in this kind more necessary, and more frequent.

To correct and cleanse the blood with fumitory, senna, succory, dandelion, endive, &c.

♍ Cure of hypochondriacal or windy melancholy. 3. Memb.

Subsect. 1 Phlebotomy, if need require.

Diet, preparatives, averters, cordials, purgers, as before, saving that they must not be so vehement.

Use of pennyroyal, wormwood, centaury sod, which alone hath cured many.

To provoke urine with aniseed, daucus, asarum, &c., and stools, if need be, by clysters and suppositories.

To respect the spleen, stomach, liver, hypochondries.

To use treacle now and then in winter.

To vomit after meals sometimes, if it be inveterate.

Subsect. 2. To expel wind.

Inwardly Taken,

Simples,

Roots,

Galanga, gentian, enula, angelica, calamus aromaticus, zedoary, china, condite ginger, &c.

Herbs,

Pennyroyal, rue, calamint, bay leaves, and berries, scordium, bethany, lavender, camomile, centaury, wormwood, cumin, broom, orange pills.

Spices,

Saffron, cinnamon, mace, nutmeg, pepper, musk, zedoary with wine, &c.

Seeds,

Aniseed, fennel-seed, ammi, cary, cumin, nettle, bays, parsley, grana paradisi.

or Compounds, as

Dianisum, diagalanga, diaciminum, diacalaminthes, electuarium de baccis lauri, benedicta laxativa, &c. pulvia carminativus, and pulvis descrip. Antidotario Florentine, aromaticum, rosatum, Mithridate.

or Outwardly used, as cupping-glasses to the hypochonries without scarification, oil of camomile, rue, aniseed, their decoctions, &c.

THE SECOND PARTITION.

THE CURE OF MELANCHOLY.

THE FIRST SECTION, MEMBER, SUBSECTION.

Unlawful Cures rejected.

Inveterate Melancholy, howsoever it may seem to be a continuate, inexorable disease, hard to be cured, accompanying them to their graves, most part, as [2789]Montanus observes, yet many times it may be helped, even that which is most violent, or at least, according to the same [2790]author, it may be mitigated and much eased. Nil desperandum. It may be hard to cure, but not impossible for him that is most grievously affected, if he but willing to be helped. Upon this good hope I will proceed, using the same method in the cure, which I have formerly used in the rehearsing of the causes; first general, then particular; and those according to their several species. Of these cures some be lawful, some again unlawful, which though frequent, familiar, and often used, yet justly censured, and to be controverted. As first, whether by these diabolical means, which are commonly practised by the devil and his ministers, sorcerers, witches, magicians, &c., by spells, cabilistical words, charms, characters, images, amulets, ligatures, philters, incantations, &c., this disease and the like may be cured? and if they may, whether it be lawful to make use of them, those magnetical cures, or for our good to seek after such means in any case? The first, whether they can do any such cures, is questioned amongst many writers, some affirming, some denying. Valesius, cont. med. lib. 5. cap. 6. Malleus Maleficar, Heurnius, lib. 3. pract. med. cap. 28. Caelius lib. 16. c. 16. Delrio Tom. 3. Wierus lib. 2. de praestig. daem. Libanius Lavater de spect. part. 2. cap. 7. Holbrenner the Lutheran in Pistorium, Polydore Virg. l. 1. de prodig. Tandlerus, Lemnius, (Hippocrates and Avicenna amongst the rest) deny that spirits or devils have any power over us, and refer all with Pomponatius of Padua to natural causes and humours. Of the other opinion are Bodinus Daemonamantiae, lib. 3, cap. 2. Arnoldus, Marcellus Empyricus, I. Pistorius, Paracelsus Apodix. Magic. Agrippa lib. 2. de occult. Philos. cap. 36. 69. 71. 72. et l. 3, c. 23, et 10. Marcilius Ficinus de vit. coelit. compar. cap. 13. 15. 18. 21. &c. Galeottus de promiscua doct. cap. 24. Jovianus Pontanus Tom. 2. Plin. lib. 28, c. 2. Strabo, lib. 15. Geog. Leo Suavius: Goclenius de ung. armar. Oswoldus Crollius, Ernestus Burgravius, Dr. Flud, &c. Cardan de subt. brings many proofs out of Ars Notoria, and Solomon's decayed works, old Hermes, Artefius, Costaben Luca, Picatrix, &c. that such cures may be done. They can make fire it shall not burn, fetch back thieves or stolen goods, show their absent faces in a glass, make serpents lie still, stanch blood, salve gouts, epilepsies, biting of mad dogs, toothache, melancholy, et omnia mundi mala, make men immortal, young again as the [2791]Spanish marquis is said to have done by one of his slaves, and some, which jugglers in [2792]China maintain still (as Tragaltius writes) that they can do by their extraordinary skill in physic, and some of our modern chemists by their strange limbecks, by their spells, philosopher's stones and charms. [2793]Many doubt, saith Nicholas Taurellus, whether the devil can cure such diseases he hath not made, and some flatly deny it, howsoever common experience confirms to our astonishment, that magicians can work such feats, and that the devil without impediment can penetrate through all the parts of our bodies, and cure such maladies by means to us unknown. Daneus in his tract de Sortiariis subscribes to this of Taurellus; Erastus de lamiis, maintaineth as much, and so do most divines, out of their excellent knowledge and long experience they can commit [2794]agentes cum patientibus, colligere semina rerum, eaque materiae applicare, as Austin infers de Civ. Dei et de Trinit. lib. 3. cap. 7. et 8. they can work stupendous and admirable conclusions; we see the effects only, but not the causes of them. Nothing so familiar as to hear of such cures. Sorcerers are too common; cunning men, wizards, and white-witches, as they call them, in every village, which if they be sought unto, will help almost all infirmities of body and mind, Servatores in Latin, and they have commonly St. Catherine's wheel printed in the roof of their mouth, or in some other part about them, resistunt incantatorum praestigiis ([2795]Boissardus writes) morbos a sagis motos propulsant &c., that to doubt of it any longer, [2796]or not to believe, were to run into that other sceptical extreme of incredulity, saith Taurellus. Leo Suavius in his comment upon Paracelsus seems to make it an art, which ought to be approved; Pistorius and others stiffly maintain the use of charms, words, characters, &c. Ars vera est, sed pauci artifices reperiuntur; the art is true, but there be but a few that have skill in it. Marcellius Donatus lib. 2. de hist, mir. cap. 1. proves out of Josephus' eight books of antiquities, that [2797]Solomon so cured all the diseases of the mind by spells, charms, and drove away devils, and that Eleazer did as much before Vespasian. Langius in his med. epist. holds Jupiter Menecrates, that did so many stupendous cures in his time, to have used this art, and that he was no other than a magician. Many famous cures are daily done in this kind, the devil is an expert physician, as Godelman calls him, lib. 1. cap. 18. and God permits oftentimes these witches and magicians to produce such effects, as Lavater cap. 3. lib. 8. part. 3. cap. 1. Polid. Virg. lib. 1. de prodigiis, Delrio and others admit. Such cures may be done, and as Paracels. Tom. 4. de morb. ament. stiffly maintains, [2798]they cannot otherwise be cured but by spells, seals, and spiritual physic. [2799]Arnoldus, lib. de sigillis, sets down the making of them, so doth Rulandus and many others. Hoc posito, they can effect such cures, the main question is, whether it be lawful in a desperate case to crave their help, or ask a wizard's advice. 'Tis a common practice of some men to go first to a witch, and then to a physician, if one cannot the other shall, Flectere si nequeant superos Acheronta movebunt. [2800]It matters not, saith Paracelsus, whether it be God or the devil, angels, or unclean spirits cure him, so that he be eased. If a man fall into a ditch, as he prosecutes it, what matter is it whether a friend or an enemy help him out? and if I be troubled with such a malady, what care I whether the devil himself, or any of his ministers by God's permission, redeem me? He calls a [2801] magician, God's minister and his vicar, applying that of vos estis dii profanely to them, for which he is lashed by T. Erastus part. 1. fol. 45. And elsewhere he encourageth his patients to have a good faith, [2802] a strong imagination, and they shall find the effects: let divines say to the contrary what they will. He proves and contends that many diseases cannot otherwise be cured. Incantatione orti incantatione curari debent; if they be caused by incantation, [2803]they must be cured by incantation. Constantinus lib. 4. approves of such remedies: Bartolus the lawyer, Peter Aerodius rerum Judic. lib. 3. tit. 7. Salicetus Godefridus, with others of that sect, allow of them; modo sint ad sanitatem quae a magis fiunt, secus non, so they be for the parties good, or not at all. But these men are confuted by Remigius, Bodinus, daem. lib. 3. cap 2. Godelmanus lib. 1. cap. 8, Wierus, Delrio lib. 6. quaest. 2. tom. 3. mag. inquis. Erastus de Lamiis; all our [2804]divines, schoolmen, and such as write cases of conscience are against it, the scripture itself absolutely forbids it as a mortal sin, Levit. cap. xviii. xix. xx. Deut. xviii. &c. Rom. viii. 19. Evil is not to be done, that good may come of it. Much better it were for such patients that are so troubled, to endure a little misery in this life, than to hazard their souls' health for ever, and as Delrio counselleth, [2805]much better die, than be so cured. Some take upon them to expel devils by natural remedies, and magical exorcisms, which they seem to approve out of the practice of the primitive church, as that above cited of Josephus, Eleazer, Irenaeus, Tertullian, Austin. Eusebius makes mention of such, and magic itself hath been publicly professed in some universities, as of old in Salamanca in Spain, and Krakow in Poland: but condemned anno 1318, by the chancellor and university of [2806]Paris. Our pontifical writers retain many of these adjurations and forms of exorcisms still in the church; besides those in baptism used, they exorcise meats, and such as are possessed, as they hold, in Christ's name. Read Hieron. Mengus cap. 3. Pet. Tyreus, part. 3. cap. 8. What exorcisms they prescribe, besides those ordinary means of [2807]fire suffumigations, lights, cutting the air with swords, cap. 57. herbs, odours: of which Tostatus treats, 2. Reg. cap. 16. quaest. 43, you shall find many vain and frivolous superstitious forms of exorcisms among them, not to be tolerated, or endured.

MEMB. II.

Lawful Cures, first from God.

Being so clearly evinced, as it is, all unlawful cures are to be refused, it remains to treat of such as are to be admitted, and those are commonly such which God hath appointed, [2808]by virtue of stones, herbs, plants, meats, and the like, which are prepared and applied to our use, by art and industry of physicians, who are the dispensers of such treasures for our good, and to be [2809]honoured for necessities' sake, God's intermediate ministers, to whom in our infirmities we are to seek for help. Yet not so that we rely too much, or wholly upon them: a Jove principium, we must first begin with [2810]prayer, and then use physic; not one without the other, but both together. To pray alone, and reject ordinary means, is to do like him in Aesop, that when his cart was stalled, lay flat on his back, and cried aloud help Hercules, but that was to little purpose, except as his friend advised him, rotis tute ipse annitaris, he whipped his horses withal, and put his shoulder to the wheel. God works by means, as Christ cured the blind man with clay and spittle: Orandum est ut sit mens sana in corpore sano. As we must pray for health of body and mind, so we must use our utmost endeavours to preserve and continue it. Some kind of devils are not cast out but by fasting and prayer, and both necessarily required, not one without the other. For all the physic we can use, art, excellent industry, is to no purpose without calling upon God, nil juvat immensos Cratero promittere montes: it is in vain to seek for help, run, ride, except God bless us. [2811]———non Siculi dapes Dulcem elaborabunt saporem. Non animum cytheraeve cantus.

[2812]Non domus et fundus, non aeris acervus et auri Aegroto possunt domino deducere febres.

[2813]With house, with land, with money, and with gold, The master's fever will not be controll'd.

We must use our prayer and physic both together: and so no doubt but our prayers will be available, and our physic take effect. 'Tis that Hezekiah practised, 2 King. xx. Luke the Evangelist: and which we are enjoined, Coloss. iv. not the patient only, but the physician himself. Hippocrates, a heathen, required this in a good practitioner, and so did Galen, lib. de Plat. et Hipp. dog. lib. 9. cap. 15. and in that tract of his, an mores sequantur temp. cor. ca. 11.. 'tis a rule which he doth inculcate, [2814] and many others. Hyperius in his first book de sacr. script. lect. speaking of that happiness and good success which all physicians desire and hope for in their cures, [2815]tells them that it is not to be expected, except with a true faith they call upon God, and teach their patients to do the like. The council of Lateran, Canon 22. decreed they should do so: the fathers of the church have still advised as much: whatsoever thou takest in hand (saith [2816]Gregory) let God be of thy counsel, consult with him; that healeth those that are broken in heart, (Psal. cxlvii. 3.) and bindeth up their sores. Otherwise as the prophet Jeremiah, cap. xlvi. 11. denounced to Egypt, In vain shalt thou use many medicines, for thou shalt have no health. It is the same counsel which [2817]Comineus that politic historiographer gives to all Christian princes, upon occasion of that unhappy overthrow of Charles Duke of Burgundy, by means of which he was extremely melancholy, and sick to death: insomuch that neither physic nor persuasion could do him any good, perceiving his preposterous error belike, adviseth all great men in such cases, [2818]to pray first to God with all submission and penitency, to confess their sins, and then to use physic. The very same fault it was, which the prophet reprehends in Asa king of Judah, that he relied more on physic than on God, and by all means would have him to amend it. And 'tis a fit caution to be observed of all other sorts of men. The prophet David was so observant of this precept, that in his greatest misery and vexation of mind, he put this rule first in practice. Psal. lxxvii. 3. When I am in heaviness, I will think on God. Psal. lxxxvi. 4. Comfort the soul of thy servant, for unto thee I lift up my soul: and verse 7. In the day of trouble will I call upon thee, for thou hearest me. Psal. liv. 1. Save me, O God, by thy name, &c. Psal. lxxxii. Psal. xx. And 'tis the common practice of all good men, Psal. cvii. 13. when their heart was humbled with heaviness, they cried to the Lord in their troubles, and he delivered them from their distress. And they have found good success in so doing, as David confesseth, Psal. xxx. 12. Thou hast turned my mourning into joy, thou hast loosed my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness. Therefore he adviseth all others to do the like, Psal. xxxi. 24. All ye that trust in the Lord, be strong, and he shall establish your heart. It is reported by [2819]Suidas, speaking of Hezekiah, that there was a great book of old, of King Solomon's writing, which contained medicines for all manner of diseases, and lay open still as they came into the temple: but Hezekiah king of Jerusalem, caused it to be taken away, because it made the people secure, to neglect their duty in calling and relying upon God, out of a confidence on those remedies. [2820]Minutius that worthy consul of Rome in an oration he made to his soldiers, was much offended with them, and taxed their ignorance, that in their misery called more on him than upon God. A general fault it is all over the world, and Minutius's speech concerns us all, we rely more on physic, and seek oftener to physicians, than to God himself. As much faulty are they that prescribe, as they that ask, respecting wholly their gain, and trusting more to their ordinary receipts and medicines many times, than to him that made them. I would wish all patients in this behalf, in the midst of their melancholy, to remember that of Siracides, Ecc. i. 11. and 12. The fear of the Lord is glory and gladness, and rejoicing. The fear of the Lord maketh a merry heart, and giveth gladness, and joy, and long life: and all such as prescribe physic, to begin in nomine Dei, as [2821]Mesue did, to imitate Laelius a Fonte Eugubinus, that in all his consultations, still concludes with a prayer for the good success of his business; and to remember that of Creto one of their predecessors, fuge avaritiam, et sine oratione et invocations Dei nihil facias avoid covetousness, and do nothing without invocation upon God.

MEMB. III.

Whether it be lawful to seek to Saints for Aid in this Disease.

That we must pray to God, no man doubts; but whether we should pray to saints in such cases, or whether they can do us any good, it may be lawfully controverted. Whether their images, shrines, relics, consecrated things, holy water, medals, benedictions, those divine amulets, holy exorcisms, and the sign of the cross, be available in this disease? The papists on the one side stiffly maintain how many melancholy, mad, demoniacal persons are daily cured at St. Anthony's Church in Padua, at St. Vitus' in Germany, by our Lady of Loretto in Italy, our Lady of Sichem in the Low Countries: [2822]Quae et caecis lumen, aegris salutem, mortuis vitam, claudis gressum reddit, omnes morbos corporis, animi, curat, et in ipsos daemones imperium exercet; she cures halt, lame, blind, all diseases of body and mind, and commands the devil himself, saith Lipsius. twenty-five thousand in a day come thither, [2823]quis nisi numen in illum locum sic induxit; who brought them? in auribus, in oculis omnium gesta, novae novitia; new news lately done, our eyes and ears are full of her cures, and who can relate them all? They have a proper saint almost for every peculiar infirmity: for poison, gouts, agues, Petronella: St. Romanus for such as are possessed; Valentine for the falling sickness; St. Vitus for madmen, &c. and as of old [2824]Pliny reckons up Gods for all diseases, (Febri fanum dicalum est) Lilius Giraldus repeats many of her ceremonies: all affections of the mind were heretofore accounted gods, [2825]love, and sorrow, virtue, honour, liberty, contumely, impudency, had their temples, tempests, seasons, Crepitus Ventris, dea Vacuna, dea Cloacina, there was a goddess of idleness, a goddess of the draught, or jakes, Prema, Premunda, Priapus, bawdy gods, and gods for all [2826] offices. Varro reckons up 30,000 gods: Lucian makes Podagra the gout a goddess, and assigns her priests and ministers: and melancholy comes not behind; for as Austin mentioneth, lib. 4. de Civit. Dei, cap. 9. there was of old Angerona dea, and she had her chapel and feasts, to whom (saith [2827]Macrobius) they did offer sacrifice yearly, that she might be pacified as well as the rest. 'Tis no new thing, you see this of papists; and in my judgment, that old doting Lipsius might have fitter dedicated his [2828]pen after all his labours, to this our goddess of melancholy, than to his Virgo Halensis, and been her chaplain, it would have become him better: but he, poor man, thought no harm in that which he did, and will not be persuaded but that he doth well, he hath so many patrons, and honourable precedents in the like kind, that justify as much, as eagerly, and more than he there saith of his lady and mistress: read but superstitious Coster and Gretser's Tract de Cruce, Laur. Arcturus Fanteus de Invoc. Sanct. Bellarmine, Delrio dis. mag. tom. 3. l. 6. quaest. 2. sect. 3. Greg. Tolosanus tom. 2. lib. 8. cap. 24. Syntax. Strozius Cicogna lib. 4. cap. 9. Tyreus, Hieronymus Mengus, and you shall find infinite examples of cures done in this kind, by holy waters, relics, crosses, exorcisms, amulets, images, consecrated beads, &c. Barradius the Jesuit boldly gives it out, that Christ's countenance, and the Virgin Mary's, would cure melancholy, if one had looked steadfastly on them. P. Morales the Spaniard in his book de pulch. Jes. et Mar. confirms the same out of Carthusianus, and I know not whom, that it was a common proverb in those days, for such as were troubled in mind to say, eamus ad videndum filium Mariae, let us see the son of Mary, as they now do post to St. Anthony's in Padua, or to St. Hilary's at Poitiers in France. [2829] In a closet of that church, there is at this day St. Hilary's bed to be seen, to which they bring all the madmen in the country, and after some prayers and other ceremonies, they lay them down there to sleep, and so they recover. It is an ordinary thing in those parts, to send all their madmen to St. Hilary's cradle. They say the like of St. Tubery in [2830] another place. Giraldus Cambrensis Itin. Camb. c. 1. tells strange stories of St. Ciricius' staff, that would cure this and all other diseases. Others say as much (as [2831]Hospinian observes) of the three kings of Cologne; their names written in parchment, and hung about a patient's neck, with the sign of the cross, will produce like effects. Read Lippomanus, or that golden legend of Jacobus de Voragine, you shall have infinite stories, or those new relations of our [2832]Jesuits in Japan and China, of Mat. Riccius, Acosta, Loyola, Xaverius's life, &c. Jasper Belga, a Jesuit, cured a mad woman by hanging St. John's gospel about her neck, and many such. Holy water did as much in Japan, &c. Nothing so familiar in their works, as such examples. But we on the other side seek to God alone. We say with David, Psal. xlvi. 1. God is our hope and strength, and help in trouble, ready to be found. For their catalogue of examples, we make no other answer, but that they are false fictions, or diabolical illusions, counterfeit miracles. We cannot deny but that it is an ordinary thing on St. Anthony's day in Padua, to bring diverse madmen and demoniacal persons to be cured: yet we make a doubt whether such parties be so affected indeed, but prepared by their priests, by certain ointments and drams, to cozen the commonalty, as [2833] Hildesheim well saith; the like is commonly practised in Bohemia as Mathiolus gives us to understand in his preface to his comment upon Dioscorides. But we need not run so far for examples in this kind, we have a just volume published at home to this purpose. [2834]A declaration of egregious popish impostures, to withdraw the hearts of religious men under the pretence of casting out of devils, practised by Father Edmunds, alias Weston, a Jesuit, and divers Romish priests, his wicked associates, with the several parties' names, confessions, examinations, &c. which were pretended to be possessed. But these are ordinary tricks only to get opinion and money, mere impostures. Aesculapius of old, that counterfeit God, did as many famous cures; his temple (as [2835]Strabo relates) was daily full of patients, and as many several tables, inscriptions, pendants, donories, &c. to be seen in his church, as at this day our Lady of Loretto's in Italy. It was a custom long since, ———suspendisse potenti Vestimenta maris deo.[2836] Hor. Od. 1. lib. 5. Od.

To do the like, in former times they were seduced and deluded as they are now. 'Tis the same devil still, called heretofore Apollo, Mars, Neptune, Venus, Aesculapius, &c. as [2837]Lactantius lib. 2. de orig. erroris, c. 17. observes. The same Jupiter and those bad angels are now worshipped and adored by the name of St. Sebastian, Barbara, &c. Christopher and George are come in their places. Our lady succeeds Venus (as they use her in many offices), the rest are otherwise supplied, as [2838]Lavater writes, and so they are deluded. [2839]And God often winks at these impostures, because they forsake his word, and betake themselves to the devil, as they do that seek after holy water, crosses, &c. Wierus, lib. 4. cap. 3. What can these men plead for themselves more than those heathen gods, the same cures done by both, the same spirit that seduceth; but read more of the Pagan god's effects in Austin de Civitate Dei, l. 10. cap. 6. and of Aesculapius especially in Cicogna l. 3. cap. 8. or put case they could help, why should we rather seek to them, than to Christ himself, since that he so kindly invites us unto him, Come unto me all ye that are heavy laden, and I will ease you, Mat. xi. and we know that there is one God, one Mediator between God and man, Jesus Christ, (1 Tim. ii. 5) who gave himself a ransom for all men. We know that we have an [2840] advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ (1 Joh. ii. 1.) that there is no other name under heaven, by which we can be saved, but by his, who is always ready to hear us, and sits at the right hand of God, and from [2841] whom we can have no repulse, solus vult, solus potest, curat universos tanquam singulos, et [2842]unumquemque nostrum et solum, we are all as one to him, he cares for us all as one, and why should we then seek to any other but to him.

MEMB. IV.

SUBSECT. I.—Physician, Patient, Physic.

Of those diverse gifts which our apostle Paul saith God hath bestowed on man, this of physic is not the least, but most necessary, and especially conducing to the good of mankind. Next therefore to God in all our extremities (for of the most high cometh healing, Ecclus. xxxviii. 2.) we must seek to, and rely upon the Physician, [2843]who is Manus Dei, saith Hierophilus, and to whom he hath given knowledge, that he might be glorified in his wondrous works. With such doth he heal men, and take away their pains, Ecclus. xxxviii. 6. 7. when thou hast need of him, let him not go from thee. The hour may come that their enterprises may have good success, ver. 13. It is not therefore to be doubted, that if we seek a physician as we ought, we may be eased of our infirmities, such a one I mean as is sufficient, and worthily so called; for there be many mountebanks, quacksalvers, empirics, in every street almost, and in every village, that take upon them this name, make this noble and profitable art to be evil spoken of and contemned, by reason of these base and illiterate artificers: but such a physician I speak of, as is approved, learned, skilful, honest, &c., of whose duty Wecker, Antid. cap. 2. and Syntax. med. Crato, Julius Alexandrinus medic. Heurnius prax. med. lib. 3. cap. 1. &c. treat at large. For this particular disease, him that shall take upon him to cure it, [2844]Paracelsus will have to be a magician, a chemist, a philosopher, an astrologer; Thurnesserus, Severinus the Dane, and some other of his followers, require as much: many of them cannot be cured but by magic. [2845]Paracelsus is so stiff for those chemical medicines, that in his cures he will admit almost of no other physic, deriding in the mean time Hippocrates, Galen, and all their followers: but magic, and all such remedies I have already censured, and shall speak of chemistry [2846]elsewhere. Astrology is required by many famous physicians, by Ficinus, Crato, Fernelius; [2847]doubted of, and exploded by others: I will not take upon me to decide the controversy myself, Johannes Hossurtus, Thomas Boderius, and Maginus in the preface to his mathematical physic, shall determine for me. Many physicians explode astrology in physic (saith he), there is no use of it, unam artem ac quasi temerarium insectantur, ac gloriam sibi ab ejus imperitia, aucupari: but I will reprove physicians by physicians, that defend and profess it, Hippocrates, Galen, Avicen. &c., that count them butchers without it, homicidas medicos Astrologiae ignaros, &c. Paracelsus goes farther, and will have his physician [2848]predestinated to this man's cure, this malady; and time of cure, the scheme of each geniture inspected, gathering of herbs, of administering astrologically observed; in which Thurnesserus and some iatromathematical professors, are too superstitious in my judgment. [2849]Hellebore will help, but not alway, not given by every physician, &c. but these men are too peremptory and self-conceited as I think. But what do I do, interposing in that which is beyond my reach? A blind man cannot judge of colours, nor I peradventure of these things. Only thus much I would require, honesty in every physician, that he be not over-careless or covetous, harpy-like to make a prey of his patient; Carnificis namque est (as [2850]Wecker notes) inter ipsos cruciatus ingens precium exposcere, as a hungry chirurgeon often produces and wire-draws his cure, so long as there is any hope of pay, Non missura cutem, nisi plena cruoris hirudo. [2851]Many of them, to get a fee, will give physic to every one that comes, when there is no cause, and they do so irritare silentem morbum, as [2852]Heurnius complains, stir up a silent disease, as it often falleth out, which by good counsel, good advice alone, might have been happily composed, or by rectification of those six non-natural things otherwise cured. This is Naturae bellum inferre, to oppugn nature, and to make a strong body weak. Arnoldus in his 8 and 11 Aphorisms gives cautions against, and expressly forbiddeth it. [2853]A wise physician will not give physic, but upon necessity, and first try medicinal diet, before he proceed to medicinal cure. [2854]In another place he laughs those men to scorn, that think longis syrupis expugnare daemones et animi phantasmata, they can purge fantastical imaginations and the devil by physic. Another caution is, that they proceed upon good grounds, if so be there be need of physic, and not mistake the disease; they are often deceived by the [2855]similitude of symptoms, saith Heurnius, and I could give instance in many consultations, wherein they have prescribed opposite physic. Sometimes they go too perfunctorily to work, in not prescribing a just [2856]course of physic: To stir up the humour, and not to purge it, doth often more harm than good. Montanus consil. 30. inveighs against such perturbations, that purge to the halves, tire nature, and molest the body to no purpose. 'Tis a crabbed humour to purge, and as Laurentius calls this disease, the reproach of physicians: Bessardus, flagellum medicorum, their lash; and for that cause, more carefully to be respected. Though the patient be averse, saith Laurentius, desire help, and refuse it again, though he neglect his own health, it behoves a good physician not to leave him helpless. But most part they offend in that other extreme, they prescribe too much physic, and tire out their bodies with continual potions, to no purpose. Aetius tetrabib. 2. 2. ser. cap. 90. will have them by all means therefore [2857]to give some respite to nature, to leave off now and then; and Laelius a Fonte Eugubinus in his consultations, found it (as he there witnesseth) often verified by experience, [2858]that after a deal of physic to no purpose, left to themselves, they have recovered. 'Tis that which Nic. Piso, Donatus Altomarus, still inculcate, dare requiem naturae, to give nature rest.

SUBSECT. II.—Concerning the Patient.

When these precedent cautions are accurately kept, and that we have now got a skilful, an honest physician to our mind, if his patient will not be conformable, and content to be ruled by him, all his endeavours will come to no good end. Many things are necessarily to be observed and continued on the patient's behalf: First that he be not too niggardly miserable of his purse, or think it too much he bestows upon himself, and to save charges endanger his health. The Abderites, when they sent for [2859]Hippocrates, promised him what reward he would, [2860]all the gold they had, if all the city were gold he should have it. Naaman the Syrian, when he went into Israel to Elisha to be cured of his leprosy, took with him ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes of raiment, (2 Kings v. 5.) Another thing is, that out of bashfulness he do not conceal his grief; if aught trouble his mind, let him freely disclose it, Stultorum incurata pudor malus ulcera celat: by that means he procures to himself much mischief, and runs into a greater inconvenience: he must be willing to be cured, and earnestly desire it. Pars sanitatis velle sanare fuit, (Seneca). 'Tis a part of his cure to wish his own health, and not to defer it too long. [2861]Qui blandiendo dulce nutrivit malum, Soro recusat ferre quod subiit jugum.

He that by cherishing a mischief doth provoke, Too late at last refuseth to cast off his yoke,

[2862]Helleborum frustra cum jam cutis aegra tumebit, Poscentes videas; venienti occurrite morbo.

When the skin swells, to seek it to appease With hellebore, is vain; meet your disease.

By this means many times, or through their ignorance in not taking notice of their grievance and danger of it, contempt, supine negligence, extenuation, wretchedness and peevishness; they undo themselves. The citizens, I know not of what city now, when rumour was brought their enemies were coming, could not abide to hear it; and when the plague begins in many places and they certainly know it, they command silence and hush it up; but after they see their foes now marching to their gates, and ready to surprise them, they begin to fortify and resist when 'tis too late; when, the sickness breaks out and can be no longer concealed, then they lament their supine negligence: 'tis no otherwise with these men. And often out of prejudice, a loathing, and distaste of physic, they had rather die, or do worse, than take any of it. Barbarous immanity ([2863]Melancthon terms it) and folly to be deplored, so to contemn the precepts of health, good remedies, and voluntarily to pull death, and many maladies upon their own heads. Though many again are in that other extreme too profuse, suspicious, and jealous of their health, too apt to take physic on every small occasion, to aggravate every slender passion, imperfection, impediment: if their finger do but ache, run, ride, send for a physician, as many gentlewomen do, that are sick, without a cause, even when they will themselves, upon every toy or small discontent, and when he comes, they make it worse than it is, by amplifying that which is not. [2864]Hier. Capivaccius sets it down as a common fault of all melancholy persons to say their symptoms are greater than they are, to help themselves. And which [2865]Mercurialis notes, consil. 53. to be more troublesome to their physicians, than other ordinary patients, that they may have change of physic. A third thing to be required in a patient, is confidence, to be of good cheer, and have sure hope that his physician can help him. [2866]Damascen the Arabian requires likewise in the physician himself, that he be confident he can cure him, otherwise his physic will not be effectual, and promise withal that he will certainly help him, make him believe so at least. [2867]Galeottus gives this reason, because the form of health is contained in the physician's mind, and as Galen, holds [2868]confidence and hope to be more good than physic, he cures most in whom most are confident. Axiocus sick almost to death, at the very sight of Socrates recovered his former health. Paracelsus assigns it for an only cause, why Hippocrates was so fortunate in his cures, not for any extraordinary skill he had; [2869]but because the common people had a most strong conceit of his worth. To this of confidence we may add perseverance, obedience, and constancy, not to change his physician, or dislike him upon every toy; for he that so doth (saith [2870]Janus Damascen) or consults with many, falls into many errors; or that useth many medicines. It was a chief caveat of [2871]Seneca to his friend Lucilius, that he should not alter his physician, or prescribed physic: Nothing hinders health more; a wound can never be cured, that hath several plasters. Crato consil. 186. taxeth all melancholy persons of this fault: [2872]'Tis proper to them, if things fall not out to their mind, and that they have not present ease, to seek another and another; (as they do commonly that have sore eyes) twenty one after another, and they still promise all to cure them, try a thousand remedies; and by this means they increase their malady, make it most dangerous and difficult to be cured. They try many (saith [2873] Montanus) and profit by none: and for this cause, consil. 24. he enjoins his patient before he take him in hand, [2874]perseverance and sufferance, for in such a small time no great matter can be effected, and upon that condition he will administer physic, otherwise all his endeavour and counsel would be to small purpose. And in his 31. counsel for a notable matron, he tells her, [2875]if she will be cured, she must be of a most abiding patience, faithful obedience, and singular perseverance; if she remit, or despair, she can expect or hope for no good success. Consil. 230. for an Italian Abbot, he makes it one of the greatest reasons why this disease is so incurable, [2876]because the parties are so restless, and impatient, and will therefore have him that intends to be eased, [2877]to take physic, not for a month, a year, but to apply himself to their prescriptions all the days of his life. Last of all, it is required that the patient be not too bold to practise upon himself, without an approved physician's consent, or to try conclusions, if he read a receipt in a book; for so, many grossly mistake, and do themselves more harm than good. That which is conducing to one man, in one case, the same time is opposite to another. [2878]An ass and a mule went laden over a brook, the one with salt, the other with wool: the mule's pack was wet by chance, the salt melted, his burden the lighter, and he thereby much eased: he told the ass, who, thinking to speed as well, wet his pack likewise at the next water, but it was much the heavier, he quite tired. So one thing may be good and bad to several parties, upon diverse occasions. Many things (saith [2879] Penottus) are written in our books, which seem to the reader to be excellent remedies, but they that make use of them are often deceived, and take for physic poison. I remember in Valleriola's observations, a story of one John Baptist a Neapolitan, that finding by chance a pamphlet in Italian, written in praise of hellebore, would needs adventure on himself, and took one dram for one scruple, and had not he been sent for, the poor fellow had poisoned himself. From whence he concludes out of Damascenus 2 et 3. Aphoris. [2880]that without exquisite knowledge, to work out of books is most dangerous: how unsavoury a thing it is to believe writers, and take upon trust, as this patient perceived by his own peril. I could recite such another example of mine own knowledge, of a friend of mine, that finding a receipt in Brassivola, would needs take hellebore in substance, and try it on his own person; but had not some of his familiars come to visit him by chance, he had by his indiscretion hazarded himself: many such I have observed. These are those ordinary cautions, which I should think fit to be noted, and he that shall keep them, as [2881] Montanus saith, shall surely be much eased, if not thoroughly cured.

SUBSECT. III.—Concerning Physic.

Physic itself in the last place is to be considered; for the Lord hath created medicines of the earth, and he that is wise will not abhor them. Ecclus. xxxviii. 4. ver. 8. of such doth the apothecary make a confection, &c. Of these medicines there be diverse and infinite kinds, plants, metals, animals, &c., and those of several natures, some good for one, hurtful to another: some noxious in themselves, corrected by art, very wholesome and good, simples, mixed, &c., and therefore left to be managed by discreet and skilful physicians, and thence applied to man's use. To this purpose they have invented method, and several rules of art, to put these remedies in order, for their particular ends. Physic (as Hippocrates defines it) is nought else but [2882]addition and subtraction; and as it is required in all other diseases, so in this of melancholy it ought to be most accurate, it being (as [2883]Mercurialis acknowledgeth) so common an affection in these our times, and therefore fit to be understood. Several prescripts and methods I find in several men, some take upon them to cure all maladies with one medicine, severally applied, as that panacea, aurum potabile, so much controverted in these days, herba solis, &c. Paracelsus reduceth all diseases to four principal heads, to whom Severinus, Ravelascus, Leo Suavius, and others adhere and imitate: those are leprosy, gout, dropsy, falling-sickness. To which they reduce the rest; as to leprosy, ulcers, itches, furfurs, scabs, &c. To gout, stone, colic, toothache, headache, &c. To dropsy, agues, jaundice, cachexia, &c. To the falling-sickness, belong palsy, vertigo, cramps, convulsions, incubus, apoplexy, &c. [2884]If any of these four principal be cured (saith Ravelascus) all the inferior are cured, and the same remedies commonly serve: but this is too general, and by some contradicted: for this peculiar disease of melancholy, of which I am now to speak, I find several cures, several methods and prescripts. They that intend the practic cure of melancholy, saith Duretus in his notes to Hollerius, set down nine peculiar scopes or ends; Savanarola prescribes seven especial canons. Aelianus Montaltus cap. 26. Faventinus in his empirics, Hercules de Saxonia, &c., have their several injunctions and rules, all tending to one end. The ordinary is threefold, which I mean to follow. Διαιτητικὴ, Pharmaceutica, and Chirurgica, diet, or living, apothecary, chirurgery, which Wecker, Crato, Guianerius, &c., and most, prescribe; of which I will insist, and speak in their order.

SECT. II. MEMB. I.

SUBSECT. I.—Diet rectified in substance.

Diet, Διαιτητικὴ, victus, or living, according to [2885] Fuchsius and others, comprehends those six non-natural things, which I have before specified, are especial causes, and being rectified, a sole or chief part of the cure. [2886]Johannes Arculanus, cap. 16. in 9. Rhasis, accounts the rectifying of these six a sufficient cure. Guianerius, tract. 15, cap. 9. calls them, propriam et primam curam, the principal cure: so doth Montanus, Crato, Mercurialis, Altomarus, &c., first to be tried, Lemnius, instit. cap. 22, names them the hinges of our health, [2887]no hope of recovery without them. Reinerus Solenander, in his seventh consultation for a Spanish young gentlewoman, that was so melancholy she abhorred all company, and would not sit at table with her familiar friends, prescribes this physic above the rest, [2888]no good to be done without it. [2889]Aretus, lib. 1. cap. 7. an old physician, is of opinion, that this is enough of itself, if the party be not too far gone in sickness. [2890]Crato, in a consultation of his for a noble patient, tells him plainly, that if his highness will keep but a good diet, he will warrant him his former health. [2891]Montanus, consil. 27. for a nobleman of France, admonisheth his lordship to be most circumspect in his diet, or else all his other physic will [2892]be to small purpose. The same injunction I find verbatim in J. Caesar Claudinus, Respon. 34. Scoltzii, consil. 183. Trallianus, cap. 16. lib. 1. Laelius a Fonte Aeugubinus often brags, that he hath done more cures in this kind by rectification of diet, than all other physic besides. So that in a word I may say to most melancholy men, as the fox said to the weasel, that could not get out of the garner, Macra cavum repetes, quem macra subisti, [2893]the six non-natural things caused it, and they must cure it. Which howsoever I treat of, as proper to the meridian of melancholy, yet nevertheless, that which is here said with him in [2894]Tully, though writ especially for the good of his friends at Tarentum and Sicily, yet it will generally serve [2895]most other diseases, and help them likewise, if it be observed. Of these six non-natural things, the first is diet, properly so called, which consists in meat and drink, in which we must consider substance, quantity, quality, and that opposite to the precedent. In substance, such meats are generally commended, which are [2896]moist, easy of digestion, and not apt to engender wind, not fried, nor roasted, but sod (saith Valescus, Altomarus, Piso, &c.) hot and moist, and of good nourishment; Crato, consil. 21. lib. 2. admits roast meat, [2897]if the burned and scorched superficies, the brown we call it, be pared off. Salvianus, lib. 2. cap. 1. cries out on cold and dry meats; [2898]young flesh and tender is approved, as of kid, rabbits, chickens, veal, mutton, capons, hens, partridge, pheasant, quails, and all mountain birds, which are so familiar in some parts of Africa, and in Italy, and as [2899]Dublinius reports, the common food of boors and clowns in Palestine. Galen takes exception at mutton, but without question he means that rammy mutton, which is in Turkey and Asia Minor, which have those great fleshy tails, of forty-eight pounds weight, as Vertomannus witnesseth, navig. lib. 2. cap. 5. The lean of fat meat is best, and all manner of broths, and pottage, with borage, lettuce, and such wholesome herbs are excellent good, especially of a cock boiled; all spoon meat. Arabians commend brains, but [2900]Laurentius, c. 8. excepts against them, and so do many others; [2901]eggs are justified as a nutritive wholesome meat, butter and oil may pass, but with some limitation; so [2902]Crato confines it, and to some men sparingly at set times, or in sauce, and so sugar and honey are approved. [2903]All sharp and sour sauces must be avoided, and spices, or at least seldom used: and so saffron sometimes in broth may be tolerated; but these things may be more freely used, as the temperature of the party is hot or cold, or as he shall find inconvenience by them. The thinnest, whitest, smallest wine is best, not thick, nor strong; and so of beer, the middling is fittest. Bread of good wheat, pure, well purged from the bran is preferred; Laurentius, cap. 8. would have it kneaded with rain water, if it may be gotten. Water.] Pure, thin, light water by all means use, of good smell and taste, like to the air in sight, such as is soon hot, soon cold, and which Hippocrates so much approves, if at least it may be had. Rain water is purest, so that it fall not down in great drops, and be used forthwith, for it quickly putrefies. Next to it fountain water that riseth in the east, and runneth eastward, from a quick running spring, from flinty, chalky, gravelly grounds: and the longer a river runneth, it is commonly the purest, though many springs do yield the best water at their fountains. The waters in hotter countries, as in Turkey, Persia, India, within the tropics, are frequently purer than ours in the north, more subtile, thin, and lighter, as our merchants observe, by four ounces in a pound, pleasanter to drink, as good as our beer, and some of them, as Choaspis in Persia, preferred by the Persian kings, before wine itself. [2904]Clitorio quicunque sitim de fonte levarit Vina fugit gaudetque meris abstemius undis.

Many rivers I deny not are muddy still, white, thick, like those in China, Nile in Egypt, Tiber at Rome, but after they be settled two or three days, defecate and clear, very commodious, useful and good. Many make use of deep wells, as of old in the Holy Land, lakes, cisterns, when they cannot be better provided; to fetch it in carts or gondolas, as in Venice, or camels' backs, as at Cairo in Egypt, [2905]Radzivilius observed 8000 camels daily there, employed about that business; some keep it in trunks, as in the East Indies, made four square with descending steps, and 'tis not amiss, for I would not have any one so nice as that Grecian Calis, sister to Nicephorus, emperor of Constantinople, and [2906]married to Dominitus Silvius, duke of Venice, that out of incredible wantonness, communi aqua uti nolebat, would use no vulgar water; but she died tanta (saith mine author) foetidissimi puris copia, of so fulsome a disease, that no water could wash her clean. [2907]Plato would not have a traveller lodge in a city that is not governed by laws, or hath not a quick stream running by it; illud enim animum, hoc corrumpit valetudinem, one corrupts the body, the other the mind. But this is more than needs, too much curiosity is naught, in time of necessity any water is allowed. Howsoever, pure water is best, and which (as Pindarus holds) is better than gold; an especial ornament it is, and very commodious to a city (according to [2908]Vegetius) when fresh springs are included within the walls, as at Corinth, in the midst of the town almost, there was arx altissima scatens fontibus, a goodly mount full of fresh water springs: if nature afford them not they must be had by art. It is a wonder to read of those [2909]stupend aqueducts, and infinite cost hath been bestowed in Rome of old, Constantinople, Carthage, Alexandria, and such populous cities, to convey good and wholesome waters: read [2910]Frontinus, Lipsius de admir. [2911]Plinius, lib. 3. cap. 11, Strabo in his Geogr. That aqueduct of Claudius was most eminent, fetched upon arches fifteen miles, every arch 109 feet high: they had fourteen such other aqueducts, besides lakes and cisterns, 700 as I take it; [2912]every house had private pipes and channels to serve them for their use. Peter Gillius, in his accurate description of Constantinople, speaks of an old cistern which he went down to see, 336 feet long, 180 feet broad, built of marble, covered over with arch-work, and sustained by 336 pillars, 12 feet asunder, and in eleven rows, to contain sweet water. Infinite cost in channels and cisterns, from Nilus to Alexandria, hath been formerly bestowed, to the admiration of these times; [2913]their cisterns so curiously cemented and composed, that a beholder would take them to be all of one stone: when the foundation is laid, and cistern made, their house is half built. That Segovian aqueduct in Spain, is much wondered at in these days, [2914]upon three rows of pillars, one above another, conveying sweet water to every house: but each city almost is full of such aqueducts. Amongst the rest [2915]he is eternally to be commended, that brought that new stream to the north side of London at his own charge: and Mr. Otho Nicholson, founder of our waterworks and elegant conduit in Oxford. So much have all times attributed to this element, to be conveniently provided of it: although Galen hath taken exceptions at such waters, which run through leaden pipes, ob cerussam quae in iis generatur, for that unctuous ceruse, which causeth dysenteries and fluxes; [2916]yet as Alsarius Crucius of Genna well answers, it is opposite to common experience. If that were true, most of our Italian cities, Montpelier in France, with infinite others, would find this inconvenience, but there is no such matter. For private families, in what sort they should furnish themselves, let them consult with P. Crescentius, de Agric. l. 1. c. 4, Pamphilius Hirelacus, and the rest. Amongst fishes, those are most allowed of, that live in gravelly or sandy waters, pikes, perch, trout, gudgeon, smelts, flounders, &c. Hippolitus Salvianus takes exception at carp; but I dare boldly say with [2917] Dubravius, it is an excellent meat, if it come not from [2918]muddy pools, that it retain not an unsavoury taste. Erinacius Marinus is much commended by Oribatius, Aetius, and most of our late writers. [2919]Crato, consil. 21. lib. 2. censures all manner of fruits, as subject to putrefaction, yet tolerable at sometimes, after meals, at second course, they keep down vapours, and have their use. Sweet fruits are best, as sweet cherries, plums, sweet apples, pearmains, and pippins, which Laurentius extols, as having a peculiar property against this disease, and Plater magnifies, omnibus modis appropriata conveniunt, but they must be corrected for their windiness: ripe grapes are good, and raisins of the sun, musk-melons well corrected, and sparingly used. Figs are allowed, and almonds blanched. Trallianus discommends figs, [2920]Salvianus olives and capers, which [2921]others especially like of, and so of pistick nuts. Montanus and Mercurialis out of Avenzoar, admit peaches, [2922]pears, and apples baked after meals, only corrected with sugar, and aniseed, or fennel-seed, and so they may be profitably taken, because they strengthen the stomach, and keep down vapours. The like may be said of preserved cherries, plums, marmalade of plums, quinces, &c., but not to drink after them. [2923]Pomegranates, lemons, oranges are tolerated, if they be not too sharp. [2924]Crato will admit of no herbs, but borage, bugloss, endive, fennel, aniseed, baum; Callenius and Arnoldus tolerate lettuce, spinach, beets, &c. The same Crato will allow no roots at all to be eaten. Some approve of potatoes, parsnips, but all corrected for wind. No raw salads; but as Laurentius prescribes, in broths; and so Crato commends many of them: or to use borage, hops, baum, steeped in their ordinary drink. [2925]Avenzoar magnifies the juice of a pomegranate, if it be sweet, and especially rose water, which he would have to be used in every dish, which they put in practice in those hot countries, about Damascus, where (if we may believe the relations of Vertomannus) many hogsheads of rose water are to be sold in the market at once, it is in so great request with them.

SUBSECT. II.—Diet rectified in quantity.

Man alone, saith [2926]Cardan, eats and drinks without appetite, and useth all his pleasure without necessity, animae vitio, and thence come many inconveniences unto him. For there is no meat whatsoever, though otherwise wholesome and good, but if unseasonably taken, or immoderately used, more than the stomach can well bear, it will engender crudity, and do much harm. Therefore [2927]Crato adviseth his patient to eat but twice a day, and that at his set meals, by no means to eat without an appetite, or upon a full stomach, and to put seven hours' difference between dinner and supper. Which rule if we did observe in our colleges, it would be much better for our healths: but custom, that tyrant, so prevails, that contrary to all good order and rules of physic, we scarce admit of five. If after seven hours' tarrying he shall have no stomach, let him defer his meal, or eat very little at his ordinary time of repast. This very counsel was given by Prosper Calenus to Cardinal Caesius, labouring of this disease; and [2928] Platerus prescribes it to a patient of his, to be most severely kept. Guianerius admits of three meals a day, but Montanus, consil. 23. pro. Ab. Italo, ties him precisely to two. And as he must not eat overmuch, so he may not absolutely fast; for as Celsus contends, lib. 1. Jacchinus 15. in 9. Rhasis, [2929]repletion and inanition may both do harm in two contrary extremes. Moreover, that which he doth eat, must be well [2930]chewed, and not hastily gobbled, for that causeth crudity and wind; and by all means to eat no more than he can well digest. Some think (saith [2931] Trincavelius, lib. 11. cap. 29. de curand. part. hum.) the more they eat the more they nourish themselves: eat and live, as the proverb is, not knowing that only repairs man, which is well concocted, not that which is devoured. Melancholy men most part have good [2932]appetites, but ill digestion, and for that cause they must be sure to rise with an appetite; and that which Socrates and Disarius the physicians in [2933]Macrobius so much require, St. Hierom enjoins Rusticus to eat and drink no more than, will [2934]satisfy hunger and thirst. [2935]Lessius, the Jesuit, holds twelve, thirteen, or fourteen ounces, or in our northern countries, sixteen at most, (for all students, weaklings, and such as lead an idle sedentary life) of meat, bread, &c., a fit proportion for a whole day, and as much or little more of drink. Nothing pesters the body and mind sooner than to be still fed, to eat and ingurgitate beyond all measure, as many do. [2936] By overmuch eating and continual feasts they stifle nature, and choke up themselves; which, had they lived coarsely, or like galley slaves been tied to an oar, might have happily prolonged many fair years. A great inconvenience comes by variety of dishes, which causeth the precedent distemperature, [2937]than which (saith Avicenna) nothing is worse; to feed on diversity of meats, or overmuch, Sertorius-like, in lucem caenare, and as commonly they do in Muscovy and Iceland, to prolong their meals all day long, or all night. Our northern countries offend especially in this, and we in this island (ampliter viventes in prandiis et caenis, as [2938]Polydore notes) are most liberal feeders, but to our own hurt. [2939]Persicos odi puer apparatus: Excess of meat breedeth sickness, and gluttony causeth choleric diseases: by surfeiting many perish, but he that dieteth himself prolongeth his life, Ecclus. xxxvii. 29, 30. We account it a great glory for a man to have his table daily furnished with variety of meats: but hear the physician, he pulls thee by the ear as thou sittest, and telleth thee, [2940]that nothing can be more noxious to thy health than such variety and plenty. Temperance is a bridle of gold, and he that can use it aright, [2941]ego non summis viris comparo, sed simillimum Deo judico, is liker a God than a man: for as it will transform a beast to a man again, so will it make a man a God. To preserve thine honour, health, and to avoid therefore all those inflations, torments, obstructions, crudities, and diseases that come by a full diet, the best way is to [2942]feed sparingly of one or two dishes at most, to have ventrem bene moratum, as Seneca calls it, [2943]to choose one of many, and to feed on that alone, as Crato adviseth his patient. The same counsel [2944]Prosper Calenus gives to Cardinal Caesius, to use a moderate and simple diet: and though his table be jovially furnished by reason of his state and guests, yet for his own part to single out some one savoury dish and feed on it. The same is inculcated by [2945]Crato, consil. 9. l. 2. to a noble personage affected with this grievance, he would have his highness to dine or sup alone, without all his honourable attendance and courtly company, with a private friend or so, [2946]a dish or two, a cup of Rhenish wine, &c. Montanus, consil. 24. for a noble matron enjoins her one dish, and by no means to drink between meals. The like, consil. 229. or not to eat till he be an hungry, which rule Berengarius did most strictly observe, as Hilbertus, Cenomecensis Episc. writes in his life, ———cui non fuit unquam Ante sitim potus, nec cibus ante famem,

and which all temperate men do constantly keep. It is a frequent solemnity still used with us, when friends meet, to go to the alehouse or tavern, they are not sociable otherwise: and if they visit one another's houses, they must both eat and drink. I reprehend it not moderately used; but to some men nothing can be more offensive; they had better, I speak it with Saint [2947]Ambrose, pour so much water in their shoes. It much avails likewise to keep good order in our diet, [2948]to eat liquid things first, broths, fish, and such meats as are sooner corrupted in the stomach; harder meats of digestion must come last. Crato would have the supper less than the dinner, which Cardan, Contradict. lib. 1. tract. 5. contradict. 18. disallows, and that by the authority of Galen. 7. art. curat. cap. 6. and for four reasons he will have the supper biggest: I have read many treatises to this purpose, I know not how it may concern some few sick men, but for my part generally for all, I should subscribe to that custom of the Romans, to make a sparing dinner, and a liberal supper; all their preparation and invitation was still at supper, no mention of dinner. Many reasons I could give, but when all is said pro and con, [2949]Cardan's rule is best, to keep that we are accustomed unto, though it be naught, and to follow our disposition and appetite in some things is not amiss; to eat sometimes of a dish which is hurtful, if we have an extraordinary liking to it. Alexander Severus loved hares and apples above all other meats, as [2950]Lampridius relates in his life: one pope pork, another peacock, &c.; what harm came of it? I conclude our own experience is the best physician; that diet which is most propitious to one, is often pernicious to another, such is the variety of palates, humours, and temperatures, let every man observe, and be a law unto himself. Tiberius, in [2951]Tacitus, did laugh at all such, that thirty years of age would ask counsel of others concerning matters of diet; I say the same. These few rules of diet he that keeps, shall surely find great ease and speedy remedy by it. It is a wonder to relate that prodigious temperance of some hermits, anchorites, and fathers of the church: he that shall but read their lives, written by Hierom, Athanasius, &c., how abstemious heathens have been in this kind, those Curii and Fabritii, those old philosophers, as Pliny records, lib. 11. Xenophon, lib. 1. de vit. Socrat. Emperors and kings, as Nicephorus relates, Eccles. hist. lib. 18. cap. 8. of Mauritius, Ludovicus Pius, &c., and that admirable [2952]example of Ludovicus Cornarus, a patrician of Venice, cannot but admire them. This have they done voluntarily and in health; what shall these private men do that are visited with sickness, and necessarily [2953]enjoined to recover, and continue their health? It is a hard thing to observe a strict diet, et qui medice vivit, misere vivit, [2954]as the saying is, quale hoc ipsum erit vivere, his si privatus fueris? as good be buried, as so much debarred of his appetite; excessit medicina malum, the physic is more troublesome than the disease, so he complained in the poet, so thou thinkest: yet he that loves himself will easily endure this little misery, to avoid a greater inconvenience; e malis minimum better do this than do worse. And as [2955]Tully holds, better be a temperate old man than a lascivious youth. 'Tis the only sweet thing (which he adviseth) so to moderate ourselves, that we may have senectutem in juventute, et in juventute senectutem, be youthful in our old age, staid in our youth, discreet and temperate in both.

MEMB. II.

Retention and Evacuation rectified.

I have declared in the causes what harm costiveness hath done in procuring this disease; if it be so noxious, the opposite must needs be good, or mean at least, as indeed it is, and to this cure necessarily required; maxime conducit, saith Montaltus, cap. 27. it very much avails. [2956] Altomarus, cap. 7, commends walking in a morning, into some fair green pleasant fields, but by all means first, by art or nature, he will have these ordinary excrements evacuated. Piso calls it, Beneficium ventris, the benefit, help or pleasure of the belly, for it doth much ease it. Laurentius, cap. 8, Crato, consil. 21. l. 2. prescribes it once a day at least: where nature is defective, art must supply, by those lenitive electuaries, suppositories, condite prunes, turpentine, clysters, as shall be shown. Prosper Calenus, lib. de atra bile, commends clysters in hypochondriacal melancholy, still to be used as occasion serves; [2957] Peter Cnemander in a consultation of his pro hypocondriaco, will have his patient continually loose, and to that end sets down there many forms of potions and clysters. Mercurialis, consil. 88. if this benefit come not of its own accord, prescribes [2958]clysters in the first place: so doth Montanus, consil. 24. consil. 31 et 229. he commends turpentine to that purpose: the same he ingeminates, consil. 230. for an Italian abbot. 'Tis very good to wash his hands and face often, to shift his clothes, to have fair linen about him, to be decently and comely attired, for sordes vitiant, nastiness defiles and dejects any man that is so voluntarily, or compelled by want, it dulleth the spirits. Baths are either artificial or natural, both have their special uses in this malady, and as [2959]Alexander supposeth, lib. 1. cap. 16. yield as speedy a remedy as any other physic whatsoever. Aetius would have them daily used, assidua balnea, Tetra. 2. sect. 2. c. 9. Galen cracks how many several cures he hath performed in this kind by use of baths alone, and Rufus pills, moistening them which are otherwise dry. Rhasis makes it a principal cure, Tota cura sit in humectando, to bathe and afterwards anoint with oil. Jason Pratensis, Laurentius, cap. 8. and Montanus set down their peculiar forms of artificial baths. Crato, consil. 17. lib. 2. commends mallows, camomile, violets, borage to be boiled in it, and sometimes fair water alone, and in his following counsel, Balneum aquae dulcis solum saepissime profuisse compertum habemus. So doth Fuchsius, lib. 1. cap. 33. Frisimelica, 2. consil. 42. in Trincavelius. Some beside herbs prescribe a ram's head and other things to be boiled. [2960] Fernelius, consil. 44. will have them used ten or twelve days together; to which he must enter fasting, and so continue in a temperate heat, and after that frictions all over the body. Lelius Aegubinus, consil. 142. and Christoph. Aererus, in a consultation of his, hold once or twice a week sufficient to bathe, the [2961]water to be warm, not hot, for fear of sweating. Felix Plater, observ. lib. 1. for a melancholy lawyer, [2962] will have lotions of the head still joined to these baths, with a ley wherein capital herbs have been boiled. [2963]Laurentius speaks of baths of milk, which I find approved by many others. And still after bath, the body to be anointed with oil of bitter almonds, of violets, new or fresh butter, [2964]capon's grease, especially the backbone, and then lotions of the head, embrocations, &c. These kinds of baths have been in former times much frequented, and diversely varied, and are still in general use in those eastern countries. The Romans had their public baths very sumptuous and stupend, as those of Antoninus and Diocletian. Plin. 36. saith there were an infinite number of them in Rome, and mightily frequented; some bathed seven times a day, as Commodus the emperor is reported to have done; usually twice a day, and they were after anointed with most costly ointments: rich women bathed themselves in milk, some in the milk of five hundred she-asses at once: we have many ruins of such, baths found in this island, amongst those parietines and rubbish of old Roman towns. Lipsius, de mag. Urb. Rom. l. 3, c. 8, Rosinus, Scot of Antwerp, and other antiquaries, tell strange stories of their baths. Gillius, l. 4. cap. ult. Topogr. Constant. reckons up 155 public [2965]baths in Constantinople, of fair building; they are still [2966]frequented in that city by the Turks of all sorts, men and women, and all over Greece, and those hot countries; to absterge belike that fulsomeness of sweat, to which they are there subject. [2967]Busbequius, in his epistles, is very copious in describing the manner of them, how their women go covered, a maid following with a box of ointment to rub them. The richer sort have private baths in their houses; the poorer go to the common, and are generally so curious in this behalf, that they will not eat nor drink until they have bathed, before and after meals some, [2968]and will not make water (but they will wash their hands) or go to stool. Leo Afer. l. 3. makes mention of one hundred several baths at Fez in Africa, most sumptuous, and such as have great revenues belonging to them. Buxtorf. cap. 14, Synagog. Jud. speaks of many ceremonies amongst the Jews in this kind; they are very superstitious in their baths, especially women. Natural baths are praised by some, discommended by others; but it is in a divers respect. [2969]Marcus, de Oddis in Hip. affect. consulted about baths, condemns them for the heat of the liver, because they dry too fast; and yet by and by, [2970]in another counsel for the same disease, he approves them because they cleanse by reason of the sulphur, and would have their water to be drunk. Areteus, c. 7. commends alum baths above the rest; and [2971]Mercurialis, consil. 88. those of Lucca in that hypochondriacal passion. He would have his patient tarry there fifteen days together, and drink the water of them, and to be bucketed, or have the water poured on his head. John Baptista, Sylvaticus cont. 64. commends all the baths in Italy, and drinking of their water, whether they be iron, alum, sulphur; so doth [2972]Hercules de Saxonia. But in that they cause sweat and dry so much, he confines himself to hypochondriacal melancholy alone, excepting that of the head and the other. Trincavelius, consil. 14. lib. 1. refers those [2973]Porrectan baths before the rest, because of the mixture of brass, iron, alum, and consil. 35. l. 3. for a melancholy lawyer, and consil. 36. in that hypochondriacal passion, the [2974]baths of Aquaria, and 36. consil. the drinking of them. Frisimelica, consulted amongst the rest in Trincavelius, consil. 42. lib. 2. prefers the waters of [2975]Apona before all artificial baths whatsoever in this disease, and would have one nine years affected with hypochondriacal passions fly to them as to a [2976]holy anchor. Of the same mind is Trincavelius himself there, and yet both put a hot liver in the same party for a cause, and send him to the waters of St. Helen, which are much hotter. Montanus, consil. 230. magnifies the [2977]Chalderinian baths, and consil 237. et 239. he exhorteth to the same, but with this caution, [2978]that the liver be outwardly anointed with some coolers that it be not overheated. But these baths must be warily frequented by melancholy persons, or if used, to such as are very cold of themselves, for as Gabelius concludes of all Dutch baths, and especially of those of Baden, they are good for all cold diseases, [2979]naught for choleric, hot and dry, and all infirmities proceeding of choler, inflammations of the spleen and liver. Our English baths, as they are hot, must needs incur the same censure: but D. Turner of old, and D. Jones have written at large of them. Of cold baths I find little or no mention in any physician, some speak against them: [2980]Cardan alone out of Agathinus commends bathing in fresh rivers, and cold waters, and adviseth all such as mean to live long to use it, for it agrees with all ages and complexions, and is most profitable for hot temperatures. As for sweating, urine, bloodletting by haemrods, or otherwise, I shall elsewhere more opportunely speak of them. Immoderate Venus in excess, as it is a cause, or in defect; so moderately used to some parties an only help, a present remedy. Peter Forestus calls it aptissimum remedium, a most apposite remedy, [2981]remitting anger, and reason, that was otherwise bound. Avicenna Fen. 3. 20. Oribasius med. collect. lib. 6. cap. 37. contend out of Ruffus and others, [2982] that many madmen, melancholy, and labouring of the falling sickness, have been cured by this alone. Montaltus cap. 27. de melan. will have it drive away sorrow, and all illusions of the brain, to purge the heart and brain from ill smokes and vapours that offend them: [2983]and if it be omitted, as Valescus supposeth, it makes the mind sad, the body dull and heavy. Many other inconveniences are reckoned up by Mercatus, and by Rodericus a Castro, in their tracts de melancholia virginum et monialium; ob seminis retentionem saviunt saepe moniales et virgines, but as Platerus adds, si nubant sanantur, they rave single, and pine away, much discontent, but marriage mends all. Marcellus Donatus lib. 2. med. hist. cap. 1. tells a story to confirm this out of Alexander Benedictus, of a maid that was mad, ob menses inhibitos, cum in officinam meritoriam incidisset, a quindecem viris eadem nocte compressa, mensium largo profluvio, quod pluribus annis ante constiterat, non sine magno pudore mane menti restituta discessit. But this must be warily understood, for as Arnoldus objects, lib. 1. breviar. 18. cap. Quid coitus ad melancholicum succum? What affinity have these two? [2984]except it be manifest that superabundance of seed, or fullness of blood be a cause, or that love, or an extraordinary desire of Venus, have gone before, or that as Lod. Mercatus excepts, they be very flatuous, and have been otherwise accustomed unto it. Montaltus cap. 27. will not allow of moderate Venus to such as have the gout, palsy, epilepsy, melancholy, except they be very lusty, and full of blood. [2985]Lodovicus Antonius lib. med. miscet. in his chapter of Venus, forbids it utterly to all wrestlers, ditchers, labouring men, &c. [2986]Ficinus and [2987]Marsilius Cognatus puts Venus one of the five mortal enemies of a student: it consumes the spirits, and weakeneth the brain. Halyabbas the Arabian, 5. Theor. cap. 36. and Jason Pratensis make it the fountain of most diseases, [2988]but most pernicious to them who are cold and dry: a melancholy man must not meddle with it, but in some cases. Plutarch in his book de san. tuend. accounts of it as one of the three principal signs and preservers of health, temperance in this kind: [2989]to rise with an appetite, to be ready to work, and abstain from venery, tria saluberrima, are three most healthful things. We see their opposites how pernicious they are to mankind, as to all other creatures they bring death, and many feral diseases: Immodicis brevis est aetas et rara senectus. Aristotle gives instance in sparrows, which are parum vivaces ob salacitatem, [2990]short lived because of their salacity, which is very frequent, as Scoppius in Priapus will better inform you. The extremes being both bad, [2991]the medium is to be kept, which cannot easily be determined. Some are better able to sustain, such as are hot and moist, phlegmatic, as Hippocrates insinuateth, some strong and lusty, well fed like [2992]Hercules, [2993] Proculus the emperor, lusty Laurence, [2994]prostibulum faeminae Messalina the empress, that by philters, and such kind of lascivious meats, use all means to [2995]enable themselves: and brag of it in the end, confodi multas enim, occidi vero paucas per ventrem vidisti, as that Spanish [2996]Celestina merrily said: others impotent, of a cold and dry constitution, cannot sustain those gymnics without great hurt done to their own bodies, of which number (though they be very prone to it) are melancholy men for the most part.

MEMB. III.

Air rectified. With a digression of the Air.