been the careful labor of probably many tus to laugh at Democritus, one jester to years.

flout another, one fool to flear at an another,

The professed object of the book is to anat-a great Stentorian Democritus, as big as omize the passion of Melancholy; to trace its nature, its causes, and its possible cure. If any one shall ask the reason for his choice of a subject

"I write of melancholy, by being busie to avoid melancholy."-"I can peradventure affirm with Marius in Sallust, that which others hear or read of I felt and practised myself; they get their knowledge from books, I from melancholising. . . . I would help others out of a fellow-feeling; and as that vertuous lady did of old, being a leper herself, bestow all her portion to build an hospital for lepers, I will spend my time and knowledge, which are my greatest fortunes, for the common good of all."

buriensis said in his time, totus mundus histhat Rhodian Colossus: for now, as Salistrionem agit-the whole world plays the fool; we have a new theatre, a new scene, a new comedy of errors, a new company of personate actors; Volupia Sacræ (as Čalcagninus wittily feigns in his Apologues) are celebrated all the world over, where all the actors were madmen and fools, and every hour changed habits, or took that which came next."

He admits that some might object against him that he, as a beneficed divine, might have more fitly written sermons; but of that class of works he "saw no such great need;" there being already "so many commentaries, treatises, pamphlets, expositions, sermons, Perhaps we have a truer reason, or at that whole teams of oxen cannot draw them." least one which had its share in leading him The reader of Burton need only turn to the to authorship, in the confession that he was conscious of a considerable store of out-of-his treatise, in order to feel assured that if "Cure of Despair" in the last division of the-way reading, which might make an entertaining book;" I had a kind of imposthume in my head, which I was very desirous to be unladen of, and could imagine no fitter evacuation than this." Burton's medical studies

must excuse the metaphor, which is certainly rather professional than delicate; but we must not allow its apparent humility to be caught at as a precedent; there are a great many authors the contents of whose brains can never have been such a burden to them as to justify the "unlading" of them upon the public. He writes under the name of Democritus junior, because the original Democritus cut up and anatomized beasts—

the writer had thought fit to devote his extraordinary stores of learning and powers of have had a formidable rival in his less known composition to pulpit oratory, Donne would favorite line; and it was probably rather his contemporary. But the pulpit was not his erate choice which led him to take holy orstudentship at Christchurch than his delibders. "I am," says he, " by my profession cian." Yet he entertained the idea of some a divine, and by mine inclination a physifuture publication more in the way of his medicinal, or savor too much of humanity, I calling."If this my discourse be overpromise thee that I will hereafter make thee amends in some treatise of divinity."-One feels curious to know what sort of sermons he preached to the good people of St. Thomas' in Oxford, and whether, on the one hand, he took any pains to adapt his powers to their level, or they, on the other, had any distinct appreciation of their learned vicar. The only thing recorded of him in connection with his parochial duties there, so far as we are aware, is, that he built the south porch of the church A.D. 1621, and always adminisHe had another reason for his choice of tered the bread at the Holy Communion in an alias :

"To find out the seat of this atra bilis or melancholy, whence it proceeds and how it is engendered in men's bodies, to the intent he might better cure it in himself, by his writings and observations teach others how to prevent and avoid it. Which good intent of his Hippocrates highly commended, Democritus junior is therefore bold to imitate, and because he left it imperfect, and it is now lost, quasi succentariator Democriti, to revive again, prosecute, and finish it in

this treatise."

"Never so much cause of laughter as now: never so many fools and madmen. "Tis not one Democritus will serve turn to laugh in these days; we have now need of a Democri

the wafer form.

He professes to find the disease of which he treats-" melancholy madness "--so universal amongst mankind, that almost no condition is free from it. "You shall find that

Even

ness.

Of course, our author observes, his is not the popular doctrine. On the contrary, we all think ourselves wise; and this is, in truth

and he quotes Solomon, Pliny, and Seneca to the point-the most indisputable symptom of folly. Never was a wiser age than his own, he says, if one could take its own testimony.

kingdoms and provinces are melancholy, ent author pushes his argument still further. cities and families, all creature, vegetal, sen- animals have this melancholy madsible, and rational-that all sorts, sects, ages, "Put a bird in a cage, he will die for conditions, are out of tune. Folly, melan- sullenness; or a beast in a pen, and take his choly, madness, are but one disease; delir- young ones or companions from him, and see ium is a common name to all. All fools are what effect it will cause." And even what mad, though some madder than others. And he calls "vegetals" are liable (so he will who is not a fool? who is free from melan- have it) to the same diseases. Lead is "satcholy? who is not touched more or less in urnine by nature;" and a plant, if removed, habit or disposition?" In fact, the whole will pine away. of this portion of his preface is but a sermon upon the text of the Stoic philosopher, that all men were mad-Stoics themselves included. He sets to work to establish this thesis in the most comprehensive manner. Solomon, he shows, was a fool by his own confession (Prov. 23: 2), and St. Paul himself admits that he was occasionally no better. Socrates, after consulting all the philosophers in order to find out a wise man, came to the conclusion "that all men were fools;" and other philosophers say the same of him. As to learned men in general, you have only to listen to their deliberately recorded opinions of each other to be convinced that they are the greatest fools in the world. He cunningly anticipates a possible retort of the reader on this point-" Democritus, that common flouter of folly was ridiculous himself." He quotes an old law maxim, to the effect that "all women are ordinarily fools;" but let no fair reader feel aggrieved,

"In former times they had but seven wise men; now, you can scarce find so many fools. Thales sent the golden tripos, which the fishermen found, and which the oracle commanded to be given to the wisest, to Bias, Bias to Solon, etc. If such a thing were now found, we should all fight for it, as the three goddesses did for the golden apple-we are so wise. We have women politicians, children metaphysicians; every silly fellow can square a circle, make perpetual motions, find the philosopher's stone, interpret Apocalypsis, make new theoricks, a new system of the world, new logic, new philosophy, etc.

ample testimony of much folly."

We think so well of ourselves, and that is an

for such are all men also. Of all estates, and of all ages, "youth is mad-stulti adoles- After a very long exordium-which is, centuli; old age little better-deliri senes." however, one of the best parts of the bookThe only man whom he would allow to have he proceeds to treat of melancholy as to-1. a taste of wisdom is Theophrastus, who re- Its nature; 2. Its causes; 3. Its symptoms. gretted his own death "because he was just He gives a most elaborate synopsis, as a kind then beginning to be wise "-at one hundred of index to the work, in which all the heads and seven years old; which, as Burton ob- of his discourse are indicated in their secserves, was rather late in the day. But not tions, members, and subsections. Whether only individuals - "kingdoms, provinces, this was for his own amusement, or as a kind and politick bodies, are liable likewise, sensi- of solemn joke upon the subtleties of the ble and subject to this disease." Those who schoolmen's logical divisions and subdivilived to see the French Reign of Terror sions, one can scarcely tell; certainly he might have well discussed such a theory in could not expect many of his readers to ena more earnest strain than Burton's. Bishop ter upon the study in the severely philosophiButler, walking in his garden with his chap-cal spirit which such an apparatus implieslain in those terrible days, turned round to to "take up melancholy as a science," in his companion after an interval of medita- modern Oxford language. At any rate, tion, and asked him seriously whether he modern students will be rather apt to run thought it possible for nations, like men, to on delighted with the rich flow of quaint anhave fits of insanity? There were phenom- ecdote and quotation, bewildered in a pleasena in that Revolution which were sufficient ant maze (for Burton's digressions are of the to justify the bishop's speculation. Our pres- longest and boldest), than to pause from

time to time to take up the several steps of who are most liable to it are persons either the discussion, or observe carefully that" of a black, or of a high sanguine complex"subsection 7" is a branch of " member 3." ion" (which gives rise to different forms of It is only the critical reader of Burton who the disease, which shows itself in more violent will feel himself bound to this more system- symptoms in the latter temperament); but atic, and less luxurious, proceeding. indeed, our author goes on to say, "I canAfter premising that no man is free from not except any complexion, any age, condidisease of some kind-a position which we tion, sex, or age, but fools and stoics, which believe is still held by the faculty-he pro- (according to Synesius) are never troubled ceeds to a preliminary "digression" as to with any manner of passion." We do not the anatomy of the body and of the mind. know how far the philosophers may be The first we may leave unnoticed: medical pleased with an exemption granted in such technicalities are not lively reading at the company, but it may be some comfort to best, and the anatomical science of two hun- the fools in these days of universal wisdom. dred and fifty years ago is not very valuable. On the other hand, we fear that some of our He has certainly done his best to give his very saturnine and disagreeable friends, if readers something of the poetry of science, they study Burton, will shelter themselves even in dealing with this very technical sub- under his authority, and set down to their ject; showing how "the brain" in the high- superior genius what is due to their bad diest region is, as it were, a privy counsellor gestion. " Generally, saith Rhasis, the finest and chancellor to the heart," which (in the wits and most generous spirits are, before second region, the chest) "as a king keeps other, obnoxious to it." It will be a great his court, and by his arteries communicates temptation to those who feel themselves life to the whole body;" while in the third" dull, heavy, lazy," "uncheerful in counteor lower region "the liver resides as a legate a latere ;" and the lungs is "the town-clark or crier, as an orator to a king; annexed to the heart to express his thoughts by voice." The anatomy of the soul is more curious, though it is about the hardest reading in the book, and has no doubt turned back many a lazy reader who has opened Burton in search of amusement. But we will not stop now to examine how "there be in all fourteen species of the understanding." Let us proceed to ascertain what this "melancholy," atra bilis, is. There is one species of it "in disposition," "which comes and goes upon every small occasion of sorrow, need, sickness, etc.," with which this treatise will have nothing to do; in this sense, "melancholy is the character of mortality." It is melancholy proper, "in habit, morbus chronicus," with which we have to do. Burton accepts what he calls the " common definition of it, "a kind of dotage without a fever, having for his ordinary companions fear and sadness without any apparent occasion." Those *It has been more than insinuated, by Dibdin and others, that the author of this Anatomy, the prey of so many literary pirates, was himself, to a certain extent, a copyist. That there were abundance of treatises on melancholy, in all languages, before the appearance of his book, is of course true; and that he made free use of them in the way of reference and quotation, he declares himself in his ample footnotes. It would require a research

nance and not pleasant to behold,” to plead that these are the tokens of a superior mind, when they find it here remarked of the same characters that "their memories are for the most part good, they have happy wits and excellent apprehensions." Even the authority of Aristotle is quoted to the same effect. There may be an unpleasant amount of truth in the theory. The temper which sees a sadinto forgotten literature almost as laborious as Burthe definition of melancholy just quoted from his ton's own, to refute this charge effectually. But pages, affords a convenient opportunity of showing, by an examination of one particular instance, how ond-hand. One of the books to which he is thought far the author was likely to take any thing at secto have been indebted is A Treatise of Melancholie, by Timothy Bright, M.D., first printed in 1586. has only an imperfect copy.] There is no question [The work is very scarce, and the British Museum but that Burton made use of the book, for he quotes from it, or refers to it, more than once. And there are several passages in the old physician's work from which at first sight it might appear that the later writer had borrowed. For instance, Bright's through vaine feare, procured by fault of the meldefinition of melancholy is "a doting of the reason ancholic humour." Now, upon comparing this with Burton's, as given above, it will be seen that the terms are the same. But when we come to examine the process by which the later author arrives at his definition, we see that Bright got his term "dotage" from Arctæus ; "of the reason" from Montaltus, Albertus, Bottonus, etc.; "fear," as a necessary ingredient, from Hercules de Saxonia, etc.; and "black choler," or "the melancholic humor," as the cause, from Paul of Ægina. Both had probably recourse to the same authorities, and hence the resemblance.

medical science of that day. It was applied to such cases of diseases as were not congenital. A namesake of the author of the Anatomy, John Bur† Sir Bulwer Lytton (in a letter to Lady Bless- ton, M.D., of York, wrote a Treatise on the Nonington).

mesius doth immoderately extol sea-fish, in the conversation of a living philosopher, which others as much vilifie " "Messarius but at which your self-conceit takes no ofcommends salmon, which Bruerinus contra- fence in one whose only personality is a titledicts;" Paulus Jovius "commends lam- page. Beer, on the other hand, our author preys, and saith none speak against them strongly commends, though in opposition to but inepti and scrupulosi-some scrupulous authorities: ""Tis a most wholesome and a persons." Carp is a fish of which, says our pleasant drink," and much the better for the author, "I know not what to determine;" hop, that rarefies it, and hath an especial it "hath a taste of mud, as Franciscus Bon- vertue against melancholy." It may be very suetus poetically defines in his Liber de fairly surmised that Christchurch brewed Aquatilibus" (and as we can prosaically con- good ale in those days, and that Democritus firm from personal experience); nevertheless, junior patronized the tap. He had sense "Freitagius extols it for an excellent whole- enough, no doubt, to recognize the truth of some meat," "and so do most of our coun- one golden rule in the matter of dietaries, try gentlemen." The present Leo Rusticus, which he quotes as being as ancient as HipEsq., prefers Scotch salmon, we are bound pocrates-that what a man relishes most to say in justice to his taste. Venison is commonly agrees with him. still" a pleasant meat, in great esteem with Unwholesome air, excess or defect of sleep us at our solemn feasts; " and we conscien- and exercise, and other neglects of the body, tiously dissent from the dictum, though it are set down as proximate causes of melanwere fortified by the opinions of a thousand choly. So also, disordered passions, which physicians, Greek, Latin, French, or Eng- are dwelt on at considerable length in Arislish, that it is "a melancholy meat, and be- totelian fashion. On the great question of gets bad blood." No doubt, as Burton the connection between matter and spiritsays, it ought to be well prepared by cook-"how the body, being material, worketh ery;" and it could only have been the atro- upon the immaterial soul"-he is content to cious culinary arrangements in the kitchen refer us to Cornelius Agrippa and Lemnius at Christchurch in his days that could have in their treatises on occult philosophy. We induced the assertion that it is "generally cannot boast of an acquaintance with these bad, and seldom to be used." On another learned writers, but can guess that they point we are quite willing to agree with leave the humiliating fact pretty much as him; we recommend no dyspeptic student they found it. It is a most anomalous and to eat horse (not if he knows it). Even inexplicable state of things, that merely be"young foals " we should be shy of recom-cause a man's internal cooking apparatus is mending as an article of diet, although a little out of order, he should go nigh "commonly eaten in Spain, and to furnish the navies often used." Some revelations as to certain tins of preserved meats supplied to her Britannic Majesty's ships lead us to think that these delicacies are still in vogue with navy contractors. Wine is set down by the authorities as a great cause of headmelancholy. "Guianerius (Tract. 15, c. 2) tells a story of two Dutchmen to whom he gave entertainment in his house, that in one month's space were both melancholy by drinking of wine; one did nought but sing, the other sigh." A melancholy Dutchman keeping up a perpetual chant must have been if a man wants pity let him break his leg, a guest that no one but an experimental physician would have entertained long. One great delight in reading old Burton is that you never feel certain when Democritus in telling his gravest stories, is not laughing at you in his sleeve ;-not an agreeable feature

to hating all his neighbors, and making all his neighbors hate him; that a good digestion should be the root of nine-tenths of the moral virtues: but so it is. And when will society listen to the plea which our honest anatomist puts forth on behalf of those unfortunate mortals, who find their moral and intellectual being "so tied and captivated by their inferior senses?" "This melancholy," says he, " deserves to be pitied of all men, and to be respected with a tender compassion." Pity, indeed! we wish the unfortunate dyspeptic may get it. No

and get laid up comfortably for six weeks. Then he shall enjoy all the luxury of concentrating upon himself the interest and sympathies of a whole household-nay, a whole neighborhood. Bright eyes shall watch him, eager to anticipate his every wish,