The Anatomy of Melancholy. Robert Burton

after his own laws, to do that which is offensive to God, and yet to hope that he should save him: and when he voluntarily neglects his own safety, and contemns the means, to think to be delivered by another:" who will say these men are wise?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      [450]———"sapiens sibique imperiosus,

       Quem neque pauperis, neque mors, neque vincula terrent,

       Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores

       Fortis, et in seipso totus teres atque rotundus."

      "He is wise that can command his own will,

       Valiant and constant to himself still,

       Whom poverty nor death, nor bands can fright,

       Checks his desires, scorns honours, just and right."

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

      "Vir bonus et sapiens, qualem vix repperit unum

       Millibus e multis hominum consultus Apollo."

      "A wise, a good man in a million,

       Apollo consulted could scarce find one."

      A man is a miracle of himself, but Trismegistus adds, Maximum miraculum homo sapiens, a wise man is a wonder: multi Thirsigeri, pauci Bacchi.

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