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.

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? What dish will your good worship eat of? 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.

'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.” Which is worse yet, if he be poor [2272]every man contemns him, insults over him, oppresseth him, scoffs at, aggravates his misery. 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? 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. 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. “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, “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. 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,

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. 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? 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, 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; 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.” 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:

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. 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?

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,

The same inconvenience befalls women. [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,

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 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, 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.

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.