The Anatomy of Melancholy Part 26

'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 pa.s.sage, _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.

Monta.n.u.s, _consil. 132._ makes mention of a country woman that parting with her friends and native place, became grievously melancholy for many years; and Trallia.n.u.s of another, so caused for the absence of her husband: which is an ordinary pa.s.sion 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 appet.i.te, desire of life, extinguisheth all delights, it causeth deep sighs and groans, tears, exclamations,

(O dulce germen matris, o sanguis meus, Eheu tepentes, &c.--o flos tener.)[2315]

howling, roaring, many bitter pangs, [2316]_lamentis gemituque et faemineo ululatu Tecta fremunt_) and by frequent meditation extends so far sometimes, [2317]"they think they see their dead friends continually in their eyes," _observantes imagines_, as Conciliator confesseth he saw his mother's ghost presenting herself still before him. _Quod nimis miseri volunt, hoc facile credunt_, still, still, still, that good father, that good son, that good wife, that dear friend runs in their minds: _Totus animus hac una cogitatione defixus est_, all the year long, as [2318]Pliny complains to Roma.n.u.s, "methinks I see Virginius, I hear Virginius, I talk with Virginius," &c.

[2319] "Te sine, vae misero mihi, lilia nigra videntur, Pallentesque rosae, nec dulce rubens hyacinthus, Nullos nec myrtus, noc laurus spirat odores."

They that are most staid and patient, are so furiously carried headlong by the pa.s.sion of sorrow in this case, that brave discreet men otherwise, oftentimes forget themselves, and weep like children many months together, [2320]_as if that they to water would_, and will not be comforted. They are gone, they are gone; what shall I do?

"Abstulit atra dies et funere mersit acerbo, Quis dabit in lachrymas fontem mihi? quis satis altos Accendet gemitus, et acerbo verba dolori?

Exhaurit pietas oculos, et hiantia frangit Pectora, nec plenos avido sinit edere questus, Magna adeo jactura premit," &c.

"Fountains of tears who gives, who lends me groans, Deep sighs sufficient to express my moans?

Mine eyes are dry, my breast in pieces torn, My loss so great, I cannot enough mourn."

So Stroza Filius, that elegant Italian poet, in his Epicedium, bewails his father's death, he could moderate his pa.s.sions in other matters, (as he confesseth) but not in this, lie yields wholly to sorrow,

"Nunc fateor do terga malis, mens illa fatiscit, Indomitus quondam vigor et constantia mentis."

How doth [2321]Quintilian complain for the loss of his son, to despair almost: Cardan lament his only child in his book _de libris propriis_, and elsewhere in many of his tracts, [2322]St. Ambrose his brother's death? _an ego possum non cogitare de te, aut sine lachrymis cogitare? O amari dies, o flebiles noctes_, &c. "Can I ever cease to think of thee, and to think with sorrow? O bitter days, O nights of sorrow," &c. Gregory n.a.z.ianzen, that n.o.ble Pulcheria! _O decorem, &c. flos recens, pullulans_, &c. Alexander, a man of most invincible courage, after Hephestion's death, as Curtius relates, _triduum jacuit ad moriendum obstinatus_, lay three days together upon the ground, obstinate, to die with him, and would neither eat, drink, nor sleep. The woman that communed with Esdras (_lib. 2. cap. 10._) when her son fell down dead. "fled into the field, and would not return into the city, but there resolved to remain, neither to eat nor drink, but mourn and fast until she died." "Rachel wept for her children, and would not be comforted because they were not." Matt. ii. 18. So did Adrian the emperor bewail his Antinous; Hercules, Hylas; Orpheus, Eurydice; David, Absalom; (O my dear son Absalom) Austin his mother Monica, Niobe her children, insomuch that the [2323]poets feigned her to be turned into a stone, as being stupefied through the extremity of grief. [2324]_Aegeas, signo lugubri filii consternatus, in mare se praecipitatem dedit_, impatient of sorrow for his son's death, drowned, himself. Our late physicians are full of such examples. Monta.n.u.s _consil. 242._ [2325]had a patient troubled with this infirmity, by reason of her husband's death, many years together.

Trincavellius, _l. 1. c. 14._ hath such another, almost in despair, after his [2326]mother's departure, _ut se ferme praecipitatem daret_; and ready through distraction to make away himself: and in his Fifteenth counsel, tells a story of one fifty years of age, "that grew desperate upon his mother's death;" and cured by Fallopius, fell many years after into a relapse, by the sudden death of a daughter which he had, and could never after be recovered. The fury of this pa.s.sion is so violent sometimes, that it daunts whole kingdoms and cities. Vespasian's death was pitifully lamented all over the Roman empire, _totus...o...b..s 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 c.u.m 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 vast.i.tas, et dira malorum omnium incommoda_, wars, plagues, vast.i.ty, discontent. When Augustus Caesar died, saith Paterculus, _orbis ruinam timueramus_, we were all afraid, as if heaven had fallen upon our heads. [2331]Budaeus records, how that, at Lewis the Twelfth his death, _tam subita mutatio, ut qui prius digito coelum attingere videbantur, nunc humi derepente serpere, sideratos esse diceres_, they that were erst in heaven, upon a sudden, as if they had been planet-strucken, lay grovelling on the ground;

[2332] "Concussis cecidere animis, seu frondibus ingens Sylva dolet lapsis"------

they looked like cropped trees. [2333]At Nancy in Lorraine, when Claudia Valesia, Henry the Second French king's sister, and the duke's wife deceased, the temples for forty days were all shut up, no prayers nor ma.s.ses, but in that room where she was. The senators all seen in black, "and for a twelvemonth's s.p.a.ce throughout the city, they were forbid to sing or dance."

[2334] "Non ulli pastos illis egre diebus Frigida (Daphne) boves ad flumina, nulla nec amnem Libavit quadrupes, nec graminis attigit herbam."

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

How were we affected here in England for our t.i.tus, _deliciae, humani generis_, Prince Henry's immature death, as if all our dearest friends'

lives had exhaled with his? [2335]Scanderbeg's death was not so much lamented in Epirus. In a word, as [2336]he saith of Edward the First at the news of Edward of Caernarvon his son's birth, _immortaliter gavisus_, he was immortally glad, may we say on the contrary of friends' deaths, _immortaliter gementes_, we are diverse of us as so many turtles, eternally dejected with it.

There is another sorrow, which arises from the loss of temporal goods and fortunes, which equally afflicts, and may go hand in hand with the preceding; loss of time, loss of honour, office, of good name, of labour, frustrate hopes, will much torment; but in my judgment, there is no torture like unto it, or that sooner procureth this malady and mischief:

[2337] "Ploratur lachrymis amissa pecunia veris:"

"Lost money is bewailed with grief sincere."

it wrings true tears from our eyes, many sighs, much sorrow from our hearts, and often causes habitual melancholy itself, Guianerius _tract. 15.

5._ repeats this for an especial cause: [2338]"Loss of friends, and loss of goods, make many men melancholy, as I have often seen by continual meditation of such things." The same causes Arnoldus Villanova.n.u.s inculcates, _Breviar. l. 1. c. 18._ _ex rerum amissione, d.a.m.no, 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]Monta.n.u.s and Frisemelica cured a young man of 22 years of age, that so became melancholy, _ab amissam pecuniam_, for a sum of money which he had unhappily lost. Sckenkius hath such another story of one melancholy, because he overshot himself, and spent his stock in unnecessary building.

[2342]Roger that rich bishop of Salisbury, _exutus opibus et castris a Rege Stephano_, spoiled of his goods by king Stephen, _vi doloris absorptus, atque in amentiam versus, indecentia fecit_, through grief ran mad, spoke and did he knew not what. Nothing so familiar, as for men in such cases, through anguish of mind to make away themselves. A poor fellow went to hang himself, (which Ausonius hath elegantly expressed in a neat [2343]Epigram) but finding by chance a pot of money, flung away the rope, and went merrily home, but he that hid the gold, when he missed it, hanged himself with that rope which the other man had left, in a discontented humour.

"At qui condiderat, postquam non reperit aurum, Aptavit collo, quem reperit laqueum."

Such feral accidents can want and penury produce. Be it by suretyship, shipwreck, fire, spoil and pillage of soldiers, or what loss soever, it boots not, it will work the like effect, the same desolation in provinces and cities, as well as private persons. The Romans were miserably dejected after the battle of Cannae, the men amazed for fear, the stupid women tore their hair and cried. The Hungarians, when their king Ladislaus and bravest soldiers were slain by the Turks, _Luctus publicus_, &c. The Venetians when their forces were overcome by the French king Lewis, the French and Spanish kings, pope, emperor, all conspired against them, at Cambray, the French herald denounced open war in the senate: _Lauredane Venetorum dux_, &c., and they had lost Padua, Brixia, Verona, Forum Julii, their territories in the continent, and had now nothing left, but the city of Venice itself, _et urbi quoque ipsi_ (saith [2344]Bembus) _timendum putarent_, and the loss of that was likewise to be feared, _tantus repente dolor omnes tenuit, ut nunquam, alias_, &c., they were pitifully plunged, never before in such lamentable distress. _Anno_ 1527, when Rome was sacked by Burbonius, the common soldiers made such spoil, that fair [2345]churches were turned to stables, old monuments and books made horse-litter, or burned like straw; relics, costly pictures defaced; altars demolished, rich hangings, carpets, &c., trampled in the dirt. [2346]Their wives and loveliest daughters constuprated by every base cullion, as Seja.n.u.s' daughter was by the hangman in public, before their fathers and husbands' faces. n.o.blemen's children, and of the wealthiest citizens, reserved for princes' beds, were prost.i.tute 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 h.e.l.l 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, c.u.m 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 superst.i.tious 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 pa.s.s," _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 pa.s.s, crucifies many men: foretold by astrologers, or wizards, _iratum ob coelum_, be it ill accident, or death itself: which often falls out by G.o.d's permission; _quia daemonem timent_ (saith Chrysostom) _Deus ideo permitt.i.t 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]Monta.n.u.s _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 gla.s.s 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 superst.i.tious, 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 n.o.bis 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...o...b..bor 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, h.e.l.l-fire, &c., how many shall be saved, d.a.m.ned? What else is all superst.i.tion, 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 n.o.bis 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 Ca.s.siopeia 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 sc.r.a.pe up a company of old coins, statues, rules, edicts, ma.n.u.scripts, &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 t.i.tles, 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 appet.i.te with extraordinary charge to his purse, is seldom pleased with any meal, whilst a trivial stomach useth all with delight and is never offended. Another must have roses in winter, _alieni temporis flores_, snow-water in summer, fruits before they can be or are usually ripe, artificial gardens and fishponds on the tops of houses, all things opposite to the vulgar sort, intricate and rare, or else they are nothing worth. So busy, nice, curious wits, make that insupportable in all vocations, trades, actions, employments, which to duller apprehensions is not offensive, earnestly seeking that which others so scornfully neglect. Thus through our foolish curiosity do we macerate ourselves, tire our souls, and run headlong, through our indiscretion, perverse will, and want of government, into many needless cares, and troubles, vain expenses, tedious journeys, painful hours; and when all is done, _quorsum haec? cui bono_? to what end?

[2367] "Nescire velle quae Magister maximus Docere non vult, erudita inscitia est."

_Unfortunate marriage_.] Amongst these pa.s.sions and irksome accidents, unfortunate marriage may be ranked: a condition of life appointed by G.o.d 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 s.l.u.t, 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 Jovia.n.u.s Ponta.n.u.s hath described at large, _Ant. dial. Tom. 2_, under the name of Euphorbia. Or if they be not equal in years, the like mischief happens. Cecilius in _Agellius lib. 2. cap.

23_, complains much of an old wife, _dum ejus morti inhio, egomet mortuus vivo inter vivos_, whilst I gape after her death, I live a dead man amongst the living, or if they dislike upon any occasion,

[2371] "Judge who that are unfortunately wed What 'tis to come into a loathed bed."

The same inconvenience befalls women.

[2372] "At vos o duri miseram lugete parentes, Si ferro aut laqueo laeva hac me exsolvere sorte Sustineo:"------

"Hard hearted parents both lament my fate, If self I kill or hang, to ease my state."

[2373]A young gentlewoman in Basil was married, saith Felix Plater, _observat. l. 1_, to an ancient man against her will, whom she could not affect; she was continually melancholy, and pined away for grief; and though her husband did all he could possibly to give her content, in a discontented humour at length she hanged herself. Many other stories he relates in this kind. Thus men are plagued with women; they again with men, when they are of divers humours and conditions; he a spendthrift, she sparing; one honest, the other dishonest, &c. Parents many times disquiet their children, and they their parents. [2374]"A foolish son is an heaviness to his mother." _Injusta noverca_: a stepmother often vexeth a whole family, is matter of repentance, exercise of patience, fuel of dissension, which made Cato's son expostulate with his father, why he should offer to marry his client Solinius' daughter, a young wench, _Cujus causa novercam induceret_; what offence had he done, that he should marry again?

Unkind, unnatural friends, evil neighbours, bad servants, debts and debates, &c., 'twas Chilon's sentence, _comes aeris alieni et litis est miseria_, misery and usury do commonly together; suretyship is the bane of many families, _Sponde, praesto noxa est_: "he shall be sore vexed that is surety for a stranger," Prov. xi. 15, "and he that hateth suretyship is sure." Contention, brawling, lawsuits, falling out of neighbours and friends.--_discordia demens_ (Virg. _Aen. 6_,) are equal to the first, grieve many a man, and vex his soul. _Nihil sane miserabilius eorum mentibus_, (as [2375]Boter holds) "nothing so miserable as such men, full of cares, griefs, anxieties, as if they were stabbed with a sharp sword, fear, suspicion, desperation, sorrow, are their ordinary companions." Our Welshmen are noted by some of their [2376]own writers, to consume one another in this kind; but whosoever they are that use it, these are their common symptoms, especially if they be convict or overcome, [2377]cast in a suit. Arius put out of a bishopric by Eustathius, turned heretic, and lived after discontented all his life. [2378]Every repulse is of like nature; _heu quanta de spe decidi_! Disgrace, infamy, detraction, will almost effect as much, and that a long time after. Hipponax, a satirical poet, so vilified and lashed two painters in his iambics, _ut ambo laqueo se suffocarent_, [2379]Pliny saith, both hanged themselves. All oppositions, dangers, perplexities, discontents, [2380]to live in any suspense, are of the same rank: _potes hoc sub casu ducere somnos_? Who can be secure in such cases? Ill-bestowed benefits, ingrat.i.tude, 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 gla.s.sman's wife in Basil became melancholy because her husband said he would marry again if she died. "No cut to unkindness," as the saying is, a frown and hard speech, ill respect, a browbeating, or bad look, especially to courtiers, or such as attend upon great persons, is present death: _Ingenium vultu statque caditque suo_, they ebb and flow with their masters' favours. Some persons are at their wits' ends, if by chance they overshoot themselves, in their ordinary speeches, or actions, which may after turn to their disadvantage or disgrace, or have any secret disclosed.

Ronseus _epist. miscel. 2_, reports of a gentlewoman 25 years old, that falling foul with one of her gossips, was upbraided with a secret infirmity (no matter what) in public, and so much grieved with it, that she did thereupon _solitudines quaerere omnes ab se ablegare, ac tandem in gravissimam incidens melancholiam, contabescere_, forsake all company, quite moped, and in a melancholy humour pine away. Others are as much tortured to see themselves rejected, contemned, scorned, disabled, defamed, detracted, undervalued, or [2381]"left behind their fellows." Lucian brings in Aetamacles, a philosopher in his _Lapith. convivio_, much discontented that he was not invited amongst the rest, expostulating the matter, in a long epistle, with Aristenetus their host. Praetextatus, a robed gentleman in Plutarch, would not sit down at a feast, because he might not sit highest, but went his ways all in a chafe. We see the common quarrelings, that are ordinary with us, for taking of the wall, precedency, and the like, which though toys in themselves, and things of no moment, yet they cause many distempers, much heart-burning amongst us. Nothing pierceth deeper than a contempt or disgrace, [2382]especially if they be generous spirits, scarce anything affects them more than to be despised or vilified.

Crato, _consil. 16, l. 2_, exemplifies it, and common experience confirms it. Of the same nature is oppression, Ecclus. 77, "surely oppression makes a man mad," loss of liberty, which made Brutus venture his life, Cato kill himself, and [2383]Tully complain, _Omnem hilaritatem in perpetuum amisi_, mine heart's broken, I shall never look up, or be merry again, [2384]_haec jactura intolerabilis_, to some parties 'tis a most intolerable loss.

Banishment a great misery, as Tyrteus describes it in an epigram of his,

"Nam miserum est patria amissa, laribusque vagari Mendic.u.m, et timida voce rogare cibos: Omnibus invisus, quocunque accesserit exul Semper erit, semper spretus egensque jacet," &c.

"A miserable thing 'tis so to wander, And like a beggar for to whine at door, Contemn'd of all the world, an exile is, Hated, rejected, needy still and poor."

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

"O beata sanitas, te praesente, amaenum Ver florit gratiis, absque te nemo beatus:"