The Anatomy of Melancholy

Aristotle must discover the movement of the Euripus; Pliny must see Vesuvius—but how did they fare? One loses his possessions, another his life. Pyrrhus will conquer Africa first, and then Asia.

One will be sole monarch, another immortal, a third rich, a fourth gives orders. “In a great whirlwind, anxious hopes wander through the cities.” We run, ride, labour tirelessly, all rising early and lying down late, striving to obtain what we would be better without. Meddlers and busybodies as we are, it would be far better for us to be quiet, sit still and take our ease.

His only concern is with words, that they should be

Lovely phrases, all arranged like little mosaic tiles,

Without a syllable out of place, to dress up a subject worth a straw; just as your only concern is with clothes—to follow fashion, to be trim and polished: both with equal profit. Another’s sole delight is building; he exhausts his resources acquiring exquisite pictures, elaborate models and plans. Another is wholly punctilious about titles, ranks and inscriptions.

A third is excessively anxious about his diet. He must have this or that exquisite sauce, food prepared just so, brought from far away—“birds from foreign skies”—cooked in just this way, and so on; something to excite his thirst, then something else to quench it. Thus he buys back his appetite at extraordinary expense, yet is seldom pleased with any meal, while an ordinary stomach enjoys everything and takes offence at nothing.

Another must have roses in winter, “flowers of another season,” snow-water in summer, fruit before it can be, or usually is, ripe; artificial gardens and fishponds on the roofs of houses; everything unlike what ordinary people have, elaborate and rare, or else it is worthless.

Thus restless, fastidious, over-inquisitive minds make things unbearable in every calling, trade, action and occupation which do not trouble duller understandings. They eagerly pursue what others just as scornfully disregard. Through our foolish curiosity we wear ourselves away, exhaust our souls, and rush headlong, through lack of judgement, perversity of will and lack of self-control, into countless needless cares and troubles, useless expenses, tedious journeys and laborious hours. And when all is done, “What is the point of all this? What good does it do?” To what end?

To wish not to know what the greatest Teacher Does not wish to teach is learned ignorance.