The Anatomy of Melancholy · Chapter 3Democritus Junior to the Reader. (2)
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[114]Quid dem? quid non dem? Renuis tu quod jubet ille.
———What courses must I choose?
What not? What both would order you refuse.
How shall I hope to express myself to each man's humour and [115]conceit, or to give satisfaction to all? Some understand too little, some too much, qui similiter in legendos libros, atque in salutandos homines irruunt, non cogitantes quales, sed quibus vestibus induti sint, as [116]Austin observes, not regarding what, but who write, [117]orexin habet auctores celebritas, not valuing the metal, but stamp that is upon it, Cantharum aspiciunt, non quid in eo. If he be not rich, in great place, polite and brave, a great doctor, or full fraught with grand titles, though never so well qualified, he is a dunce; but, as [118]Baronius hath it of Cardinal Caraffa's works, he is a mere hog that rejects any man for his poverty. Some are too partial, as friends to overween, others come with a prejudice to carp, vilify, detract, and scoff; (qui de me forsan, quicquid est, omni contemptu contemptius judicant) some as bees for honey, some as spiders to gather poison. What shall I do in this case? As a Dutch host, if you come to an inn in. Germany, and dislike your fare, diet, lodging, &c., replies in a surly tone, [119]aliud tibi quaeras diversorium, if you like not this, get you to another inn: I resolve, if you like not my writing, go read something else. I do not much esteem thy censure, take thy course, it is not as thou wilt, nor as I will, but when we have both done, that of [120]Plinius Secundus to Trajan will prove true, “Every man's witty labour takes not, except the matter, subject, occasion, and some commending favourite happen to it.” If I be taxed, exploded by thee and some such, I shall haply be approved and commended by others, and so have been (Expertus loquor), and may truly say with [121]Jovius in like case, (absit verbo jactantia) heroum quorundam, pontificum, et virorum nobilium familiaritatem et amicitiam, gratasque gratias, et multorum [122] bene laudatorum laudes sum inde promeritus, as I have been honoured by some worthy men, so have I been vilified by others, and shall be. At the first publishing of this book, (which [123]Probus of Persius satires), editum librum continuo mirari homines, atque avide deripere caeperunt, I may in some sort apply to this my work. The first, second, and third edition were suddenly gone, eagerly read, and, as I have said, not so much approved by some, as scornfully rejected by others. But it was Democritus his fortune, Idem admirationi et [124]irrisioni habitus. 'Twas Seneca's fate, that superintendent of wit, learning, judgment, [125]ad stuporem doctus, the best of Greek and Latin writers, in Plutarch's opinion; that “renowned corrector of vice,” as, [126]Fabius terms him, “and painful omniscious philosopher, that writ so excellently and admirably well,” could not please all parties, or escape censure. How is he vilified by [127] Caligula, Agellius, Fabius, and Lipsius himself, his chief propugner? In eo pleraque pernitiosa, saith the same Fabius, many childish tracts and sentences he hath, sermo illaboratus, too negligent often and remiss, as Agellius observes, oratio vulgaris et protrita, dicaces et ineptae, sententiae, eruditio plebeia, an homely shallow writer as he is. In partibus spinas et fastidia habet, saith [128]Lipsius; and, as in all his other works, so especially in his epistles, aliae in argutiis et ineptiis occupantur, intricatus alicubi, et parum compositus, sine copia rerum hoc fecit, he jumbles up many things together immethodically, after the Stoics' fashion, parum ordinavit, multa accumulavit, &c. If Seneca be thus lashed, and many famous men that I could name, what shall I expect? How shall I that am vix umbra tanti philosophi hope to please? “No man so absolute” ([129]Erasmus holds) “to satisfy all, except antiquity, prescription, &c., set a bar.” But as I have proved in Seneca, this will not always take place, how shall I evade? 'Tis the common doom of all writers, I must (I say) abide it; I seek not applause; [130]Non ego ventosa venor suffragia plebis; again, non sum adeo informis, I would not be [131]vilified:
[132]———laudatus abunde,
Non fastiditus si tibi, lector, ero.
I fear good men's censures, and to their favourable acceptance I submit my labours,
[133]———et linguas mancipiorum
Contemno.———
As the barking of a dog, I securely contemn those malicious and scurrile obloquies, flouts, calumnies of railers and detractors; I scorn the rest. What therefore I have said, pro tenuitate mea, I have said.
One or two things yet I was desirous to have amended if I could, concerning the manner of handling this my subject, for which I must apologise, deprecari, and upon better advice give the friendly reader notice: it was not mine intent to prostitute my muse in English, or to divulge secreta Minervae, but to have exposed this more contract in Latin, if I could have got it printed. Any scurrile pamphlet is welcome to our mercenary stationers in English; they print all
———cuduntque libellos
In quorum foliis vix simia nuda cacaret;
But in Latin they will not deal; which is one of the reasons [134]Nicholas Car, in his oration of the paucity of English writers, gives, that so many flourishing wits are smothered in oblivion, lie dead and buried in this our nation. Another main fault is, that I have not revised the copy, and amended the style, which now flows remissly, as it was first conceived; but my leisure would not permit; Feci nec quod potui, nec quod volui, I confess it is neither as I would, nor as it should be.
[135]Cum relego scripsisse pudet, quia plurima cerno
Me quoque quae fuerant judice digna lini.
When I peruse this tract which I have writ,
I am abash'd, and much I hold unfit.
Et quod gravissimum, in the matter itself, many things I disallow at this present, which when I writ, [136]Non eadem est aetas, non mens; I would willingly retract much, &c., but 'tis too late, I can only crave pardon now for what is amiss.
I might indeed, (had I wisely done) observed that precept of the poet, ———nonumque prematur in annum, and have taken more care: or, as Alexander the physician would have done by lapis lazuli, fifty times washed before it be used, I should have revised, corrected and amended this tract; but I had not (as I said) that happy leisure, no amanuenses or assistants. Pancrates in [137]Lucian, wanting a servant as he went from Memphis to Coptus in Egypt, took a door bar, and after some superstitious words pronounced (Eucrates the relator was then present) made it stand up like a serving-man, fetch him water, turn the spit, serve in supper, and what work he would besides; and when he had done that service he desired, turned his man to a stick again. I have no such skill to make new men at my pleasure, or means to hire them; no whistle to call like the master of a ship, and bid them run, &c. I have no such authority, no such benefactors, as that noble [138]Ambrosius was to Origen, allowing him six or seven amanuenses to write out his dictates; I must for that cause do my business myself, and was therefore enforced, as a bear doth her whelps, to bring forth this confused lump; I had not time to lick it into form, as she doth her young ones, but even so to publish it, as it was first written quicquid in buccam venit, in an extemporean style, as [139]I do commonly all other exercises, effudi quicquid dictavit genius meus, out of a confused company of notes, and writ with as small deliberation as I do ordinarily speak, without all affectation of big words, fustian phrases, jingling terms, tropes, strong lines, that like [140]Acesta's arrows caught fire as they flew, strains of wit, brave heats, elegies, hyperbolical exornations, elegancies, &c., which many so much affect. I am [141]aquae potor, drink no wine at all, which so much improves our modern wits, a loose, plain, rude writer, ficum, voco ficum et ligonem ligonem and as free, as loose, idem calamo quod in mente, [142]I call a spade a spade, animis haec scribo, non auribus, I respect matter not words; remembering that of Cardan, verba propter res, non res propter verba: and seeking with Seneca, quid scribam, non quemadmodum, rather what than how to write: for as Philo thinks, [143]“He that is conversant about matter, neglects words, and those that excel in this art of speaking, have no profound learning,”
[144]Verba nitent phaleris, at nullus verba medullas
Intus habent———
Besides, it was the observation of that wise Seneca, [145]“when you see a fellow careful about his words, and neat in his speech, know this for a certainty, that man's mind is busied about toys, there's no solidity in him.” Non est ornamentum virile concinnitas: as he said of a nightingale, ———vox es, praeterea nihil, &c. I am therefore in this point a professed disciple of [146]Apollonius a scholar of Socrates, I neglect phrases, and labour wholly to inform my reader's understanding, not to please his ear; 'tis not my study or intent to compose neatly, which an orator requires, but to express myself readily and plainly as it happens. So that as a river runs sometimes precipitate and swift, then dull and slow; now direct, then per ambages, now deep, then shallow; now muddy, then clear; now broad, then narrow; doth my style flow: now serious, then light; now comical, then satirical; now more elaborate, then remiss, as the present subject required, or as at that time I was affected. And if thou vouchsafe to read this treatise, it shall seem no otherwise to thee, than the way to an ordinary traveller, sometimes fair, sometimes foul; here champaign, there enclosed; barren, in one place, better soil in another: by woods, groves, hills, dales, plains, &c. I shall lead thee per ardua montium, et lubrica valllum, et roscida cespitum, et [147]glebosa camporum, through variety of objects, that which thou shalt like and surely dislike.
For the matter itself or method, if it be faulty, consider I pray you that of Columella, Nihil perfectum, aut a singulari consummatum industria, no man can observe all, much is defective no doubt, may be justly taxed, altered, and avoided in Galen, Aristotle, those great masters. Boni venatoris ([148]one holds) plures feras capere, non omnes; he is a good huntsman can catch some, not all: I have done my endeavour. Besides, I dwell not in this study, Non hic sulcos ducimus, non hoc pulvere desudamus, I am but a smatterer, I confess, a stranger, [149]here and there I pull a flower; I do easily grant, if a rigid censurer should criticise on this which I have writ, he should not find three sole faults, as Scaliger in Terence, but three hundred. So many as he hath done in Cardan's subtleties, as many notable errors as [150]Gul Laurembergius, a late professor of Rostock, discovers in that anatomy of Laurentius, or Barocius the Venetian in Sacro boscus. And although this be a sixth edition, in which I should have been more accurate, corrected all those former escapes, yet it was magni laboris opus, so difficult and tedious, that as carpenters do find out of experience, 'tis much better build a new sometimes, than repair an old house; I could as soon write as much more, as alter that which is written. If aught therefore be amiss (as I grant there is), I require a friendly admonition, no bitter invective, [151]Sint musis socii Charites, Furia omnis abesto, otherwise, as in ordinary controversies, funem contentionis nectamus, sed cui bono? We may contend, and likely misuse each other, but to what purpose? We are both scholars, say,
[152]———Arcades ambo
Et Cantare pares, et respondere parati.
Both young Arcadians, both alike inspir'd
To sing and answer as the song requir'd.
If we do wrangle, what shall we get by it? Trouble and wrong ourselves, make sport to others. If I be convict of an error, I will yield, I will amend. Si quid bonis moribus, si quid veritati dissentaneum, in sacris vel humanis literis a me dictum sit, id nec dictum esto. In the mean time I require a favourable censure of all faults omitted, harsh compositions, pleonasms of words, tautological repetitions (though Seneca bear me out, nunquam nimis dicitur, quod nunquam satis dicitur) perturbations of tenses, numbers, printers' faults, &c. My translations are sometimes rather paraphrases than interpretations, non ad verbum, but as an author, I use more liberty, and that's only taken which was to my purpose. Quotations are often inserted in the text, which makes the style more harsh, or in the margin, as it happened. Greek authors, Plato, Plutarch, Athenaeus, &c., I have cited out of their interpreters, because the original was not so ready. I have mingled sacra prophanis, but I hope not profaned, and in repetition of authors' names, ranked them per accidens, not according to chronology; sometimes neoterics before ancients, as my memory suggested. Some things are here altered, expunged in this sixth edition, others amended, much added, because many good [153]authors in all kinds are come to my hands since, and 'tis no prejudice, no such indecorum, or oversight.
[154]Nunquam ita quicquam bene subducta ratione ad vitam fuit,
Quin res, aetas, usus, semper aliquid apportent novi,
Aliquid moneant, ut illa quae scire te credas, nescias,
Et quae tibi putaris prima, in exercendo ut repudias.
Ne'er was ought yet at first contriv'd so fit,
But use, age, or something would alter it;
Advise thee better, and, upon peruse,
Make thee not say, and what thou tak'st refuse.
But I am now resolved never to put this treatise out again, Ne quid nimis, I will not hereafter add, alter, or retract; I have done. The last and greatest exception is, that I, being a divine, have meddled with physic,
[155]Tantumne est ab re tua otii tibi,
Aliena ut cures, eaque nihil quae ad te attinent.
Which Menedemus objected to Chremes; have I so much leisure, or little business of mine own, as to look after other men's matters which concern me not? What have I to do with physic? Quod medicorum est promittant medici. The [156]Lacedaemonians were once in counsel about state matters, a debauched fellow spake excellent well, and to the purpose, his speech was generally approved: a grave senator steps up, and by all means would have it repealed, though good, because dehonestabatur pessimo auctore, it had no better an author; let some good man relate the same, and then it should pass. This counsel was embraced, factum est, and it was registered forthwith, Et sic bona sententia mansit, malus auctor mutatus est. Thou sayest as much of me, stomachosus as thou art, and grantest, peradventure, this which I have written in physic, not to be amiss, had another done it, a professed physician, or so, but why should I meddle with this tract? Hear me speak. There be many other subjects, I do easily grant, both in humanity and divinity, fit to be treated of, of which had I written ad ostentationem only, to show myself, I should have rather chosen, and in which I have been more conversant, I could have more willingly luxuriated, and better satisfied myself and others; but that at this time I was fatally driven upon this rock of melancholy, and carried away by this by-stream, which, as a rillet, is deducted from the main channel of my studies, in which I have pleased and busied myself at idle hours, as a subject most necessary and commodious. Not that I prefer it before divinity, which I do acknowledge to be the queen of professions, and to which all the rest are as handmaids, but that in divinity I saw no such great need. For had I written positively, there be so many books in that kind, so many commentators, treatises, pamphlets, expositions, sermons, that whole teams of oxen cannot draw them; and had I been as forward and ambitious as some others, I might have haply printed a sermon at Paul's Cross, a sermon in St. Marie's Oxon, a sermon in Christ Church, or a sermon before the right honourable, right reverend, a sermon before the right worshipful, a sermon in Latin, in English, a sermon with a name, a sermon without, a sermon, a sermon, &c. But I have been ever as desirous to suppress my labours in this kind, as others have been to press and publish theirs. To have written in controversy had been to cut off an hydra's head, [157]Lis litem generat, one begets another, so many duplications, triplications, and swarms of questions. In sacro bello hoc quod stili mucrone agitur, that having once begun, I should never make an end. One had much better, as [158]Alexander, the sixth pope, long since observed, provoke a great prince than a begging friar, a Jesuit, or a seminary priest, I will add, for inexpugnabile genus hoc hominum, they are an irrefragable society, they must and will have the last word; and that with such eagerness, impudence, abominable lying, falsifying, and bitterness in their questions they proceed, that as he [159]said, furorne caecus, an rapit vis acrior, an culpa, responsum date? Blind fury, or error, or rashness, or what it is that eggs them, I know not, I am sure many times, which [160]Austin perceived long since, tempestate contentionis, serenitas charitatis obnubilatur, with this tempest of contention, the serenity of charity is overclouded, and there be too many spirits conjured up already in this kind in all sciences, and more than we can tell how to lay, which do so furiously rage, and keep such a racket, that as [161]Fabius said, “It had been much better for some of them to have been born dumb, and altogether illiterate, than so far to dote to their own destruction.”
At melius fuerat non scribere, namque tacere
Tutum semper erit,———[162]
'Tis a general fault, so Severinus the Dane complains [163]in physic, “unhappy men as we are, we spend our days in unprofitable questions and disputations,” intricate subtleties, de lana caprina about moonshine in the water, “leaving in the mean time those chiefest treasures of nature untouched, wherein the best medicines for all manner of diseases are to be found, and do not only neglect them ourselves, but hinder, condemn, forbid, and scoff at others, that are willing to inquire after them.” These motives at this present have induced me to make choice of this medicinal subject.
If any physician in the mean time shall infer, Ne sutor ultra crepidam, and find himself grieved that I have intruded into his profession, I will tell him in brief, I do not otherwise by them, than they do by us. If it be for their advantage, I know many of their sect which have taken orders, in hope of a benefice, 'tis a common transition, and why may not a melancholy divine, that can get nothing but by simony, profess physic? Drusianus an Italian (Crusianus, but corruptly, Trithemius calls him) [164]“because he was not fortunate in his practice, forsook his profession, and writ afterwards in divinity.” Marcilius Ficinus was semel et simul; a priest and a physician at once, and [165]T. Linacer in his old age took orders. The Jesuits profess both at this time, divers of them permissu superiorum, chirurgeons, panders, bawds, and midwives, &c. Many poor country-vicars, for want of other means, are driven to their shifts; to turn mountebanks, quacksalvers, empirics, and if our greedy patrons hold us to such hard conditions, as commonly they do, they will make most of us work at some trade, as Paul did, at last turn taskers, maltsters, costermongers, graziers, sell ale as some have done, or worse. Howsoever in undertaking this task, I hope I shall commit no great error or indecorum, if all be considered aright, I can vindicate myself with Georgius Braunus, and Hieronymus Hemingius, those two learned divines; who (to borrow a line or two of mine [166]elder brother) drawn by a “natural love, the one of pictures and maps, prospectives and chorographical delights, writ that ample theatre of cities; the other to the study of genealogies, penned theatrum genealogicum.” Or else I can excuse my studies with [167]Lessius the Jesuit in like case. It is a disease of the soul on which I am to treat, and as much appertaining to a divine as to a physician, and who knows not what an agreement there is betwixt these two professions? A good divine either is or ought to be a good physician, a spiritual physician at least, as our Saviour calls himself, and was indeed, Mat. iv. 23; Luke, v. 18; Luke, vii. 8. They differ but in object, the one of the body, the other of the soul, and use divers medicines to cure; one amends animam per corpus, the other corpus per animam as [168]our Regius Professor of physic well informed us in a learned lecture of his not long since. One helps the vices and passions of the soul, anger, lust, desperation, pride, presumption, &c. by applying that spiritual physic; as the other uses proper remedies in bodily diseases. Now this being a common infirmity of body and soul, and such a one that hath as much need of spiritual as a corporal cure, I could not find a fitter task to busy myself about, a more apposite theme, so necessary, so commodious, and generally concerning all sorts of men, that should so equally participate of both, and require a whole physician. A divine in this compound mixed malady can do little alone, a physician in some kinds of melancholy much less, both make an absolute cure.
[169]Alterius sic altera poscit opem.
———when in friendship joined
A mutual succour in each other find.
And 'tis proper to them both, and I hope not unbeseeming me, who am by my profession a divine, and by mine inclination a physician. I had Jupiter in my sixth house; I say with [170]Beroaldus, non sum medicus, nec medicinae prorsus expers, in the theory of physic I have taken some pains, not with an intent to practice, but to satisfy myself, which was a cause likewise of the first undertaking of this subject.
If these reasons do not satisfy thee, good reader, as Alexander Munificus that bountiful prelate, sometimes bishop of Lincoln, when he had built six castles, ad invidiam operis eluendam, saith [171]Mr. Camden, to take away the envy of his work (which very words Nubrigensis hath of Roger the rich bishop of Salisbury, who in king Stephen's time built Shirburn castle, and that of Devises), to divert the scandal or imputation, which might be thence inferred, built so many religious houses. If this my discourse be over-medicinal, or savour too much of humanity, I promise thee that I will hereafter make thee amends in some treatise of divinity. But this I hope shall suffice, when you have more fully considered of the matter of this my subject, rem substratam, melancholy, madness, and of the reasons following, which were my chief motives: the generality of the disease, the necessity of the cure, and the commodity or common good that will arise to all men by the knowledge of it, as shall at large appear in the ensuing preface. And I doubt not but that in the end you will say with me, that to anatomise this humour aright, through all the members of this our Microcosmus, is as great a task, as to reconcile those chronological errors in the Assyrian monarchy, find out the quadrature of a circle, the creeks and sounds of the north-east, or north-west passages, and all out as good a discovery as that hungry [172]Spaniard's of Terra Australis Incognita, as great trouble as to perfect the motion of Mars and Mercury, which so crucifies our astronomers, or to rectify the Gregorian Calendar. I am so affected for my part, and hope as [173]Theophrastus did by his characters, “That our posterity, O friend Policles, shall be the better for this which we have written, by correcting and rectifying what is amiss in themselves by our examples, and applying our precepts and cautions to their own use.” And as that great captain Zisca would have a drum made of his skin when he was dead, because he thought the very noise of it would put his enemies to flight, I doubt not but that these following lines, when they shall be recited, or hereafter read, will drive away melancholy (though I be gone) as much as Zisca's drum could terrify his foes. Yet one caution let me give by the way to my present, or my future reader, who is actually melancholy, that he read not the [174]symptoms or prognostics in this following tract, lest by applying that which he reads to himself, aggravating, appropriating things generally spoken, to his own person (as melancholy men for the most part do) he trouble or hurt himself, and get in conclusion more harm than good. I advise them therefore warily to peruse that tract, Lapides loquitur (so said [175]Agrippa de occ. Phil.) et caveant lectores ne cerebrum iis excutiat. The rest I doubt not they may securely read, and to their benefit. But I am over-tedious, I proceed.
Of the necessity and generality of this which I have said, if any man doubt, I shall desire him to make a brief survey of the world, as [176] Cyprian adviseth Donat, “supposing himself to be transported to the top of some high mountain, and thence to behold the tumults and chances of this wavering world, he cannot choose but either laugh at, or pity it.” S. Hierom out of a strong imagination, being in the wilderness, conceived with himself, that he then saw them dancing in Rome; and if thou shalt either conceive, or climb to see, thou shalt soon perceive that all the world is mad, that it is melancholy, dotes; that it is (which Epichthonius Cosmopolites expressed not many years since in a map) made like a fool's head (with that motto, Caput helleboro dignum) a crazed head, cavea stultorum, a fool's paradise, or as Apollonius, a common prison of gulls, cheaters, flatterers, &c. and needs to be reformed. Strabo in the ninth book of his geography, compares Greece to the picture of a man, which comparison of his, Nic. Gerbelius in his exposition of Sophianus' map, approves; the breast lies open from those Acroceraunian hills in Epirus, to the Sunian promontory in Attica; Pagae and Magaera are the two shoulders; that Isthmus of Corinth the neck; and Peloponnesus the head. If this allusion hold, 'tis sure a mad head; Morea may be Moria; and to speak what I think, the inhabitants of modern Greece swerve as much from reason and true religion at this day, as that Morea doth from the picture of a man. Examine the rest in like sort, and you shall find that kingdoms and provinces are melancholy, cities and families, all creatures, vegetal, sensible, and rational, that all sorts, sects, ages, conditions, are out of tune, as in Cebes' table, omnes errorem bibunt, before they come into the world, they are intoxicated by error's cup, from the highest to the lowest have need of physic, and those particular actions in [177]Seneca, where father and son prove one another mad, may be general; Porcius Latro shall plead against us all. For indeed who is not a fool, melancholy, mad?—[178] Qui nil molitur inepte, who is not brain-sick? Folly, melancholy, madness, are but one disease, Delirium is a common name to all. Alexander, Gordonius, Jason Pratensis, Savanarola, Guianerius, Montaltus, confound them as differing secundum magis et minus; so doth David, Psal. xxxvii. 5. “I said unto the fools, deal not so madly,” and 'twas an old Stoical paradox, omnes stultos insanire, [179]all fools are mad, though some madder than others. And who is not a fool, who is free from melancholy? Who is not touched more or less in habit or disposition? If in disposition, “ill dispositions beget habits, if they persevere,” saith [180]Plutarch, habits either are, or turn to diseases. 'Tis the same which Tully maintains in the second of his Tusculans, omnium insipientum animi in morbo sunt, et perturbatorum, fools are sick, and all that are troubled in mind: for what is sickness, but as [181]Gregory Tholosanus defines it, “A dissolution or perturbation of the bodily league, which health combines:” and who is not sick, or ill-disposed? in whom doth not passion, anger, envy, discontent, fear and sorrow reign? Who labours not of this disease? Give me but a little leave, and you shall see by what testimonies, confessions, arguments, I will evince it, that most men are mad, that they had as much need to go a pilgrimage to the Anticyrae (as in [182]Strabo's time they did) as in our days they run to Compostella, our Lady of Sichem, or Lauretta, to seek for help; that it is like to be as prosperous a voyage as that of Guiana, and that there is much more need of hellebore than of tobacco.
That men are so misaffected, melancholy, mad, giddy-headed, hear the testimony of Solomon, Eccl. ii. 12. “And I turned to behold wisdom, madness and folly,” &c. And ver. 23: “All his days are sorrow, his travel grief, and his heart taketh no rest in the night.” So that take melancholy in what sense you will, properly or improperly, in disposition or habit, for pleasure or for pain, dotage, discontent, fear, sorrow, madness, for part, or all, truly, or metaphorically, 'tis all one. Laughter itself is madness according to Solomon, and as St. Paul hath it, “Worldly sorrow brings death.” “The hearts of the sons of men are evil, and madness is in their hearts while they live,” Eccl. ix. 3. “Wise men themselves are no better.” Eccl. i. 18. “In the multitude of wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth wisdom, increaseth sorrow,” chap. ii. 17. He hated life itself, nothing pleased him: he hated his labour, all, as [183]he concludes, is “sorrow, grief, vanity, vexation of spirit.” And though he were the wisest man in the world, sanctuarium sapientiae, and had wisdom in abundance, he will not vindicate himself, or justify his own actions. “Surely I am more foolish than any man, and have not the understanding of a man in me,” Prov. xxx. 2. Be they Solomon's words, or the words of Agur, the son of Jakeh, they are canonical. David, a man after God's own heart, confesseth as much of himself, Psal. xxxvii. 21, 22. “So foolish was I and ignorant, I was even as a beast before thee.” And condemns all for fools, Psal. xciii.; xxxii. 9; xlix. 20. He compares them to “beasts, horses, and mules, in which there is no understanding.” The apostle Paul accuseth himself in like sort, 2 Cor. ix. 21. “I would you would suffer a little my foolishness, I speak foolishly.” “The whole head is sick,” saith Esay, “and the heart is heavy,” cap. i. 5. And makes lighter of them than of oxen and asses, “the ox knows his owner,” &c.: read Deut. xxxii. 6; Jer. iv.; Amos, iii. 1; Ephes. v. 6. “Be not mad, be not deceived, foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?” How often are they branded with this epithet of madness and folly? No word so frequent amongst the fathers of the Church and divines; you may see what an opinion they had of the world, and how they valued men's actions.