Story tells us, that Mithridates, the famous enemy of the Romans, among

other trials of skill that he instituted, proposed a reward to the

greatest eater and the stoutest drinker in his kingdom. He won both the

prizes himself; he outdrank every man living, and for his excellency

that way was called Bacchus. But this reason for his surname is a

vain fancy and an idle story; for whilst he was an infant a flash of

lightning burnt his cradle, but did his body no harm, and only left a

little mark on his forehead, which his hair covered when he was grown

a boy; and after he came to be a man, another flash broke into his

bedchambers, and burnt the arrows in a quiver that was hanging under

him; from whence his diviners presaged, that archers and light-armed men

should win him considerable victories in his wars; and the vulgar gave

him this name, because in those many dangers by lightning he bore some

resemblance to the Theban Bacchus.

From hence great drinkers were the subject of our discourse; and the

wrestler Heraclides (or, as the Alexandrians mince it, Heraclus), who

lived but in the last age, was accounted one. He, when he could get

none to hold out with him, invited some to take their morning's draught,

others to dinner, to supper others, and others after, to take a merry

glass of wine; so that as the first went off, the second came, and the

third and fourth company and he all the while without any intermission

took his glass round, and outsat all the four companies.

Amongst the retainers to Drusus, the Emperor Tiberus's son, was a

physician that drank down all the court; he, before he sat down, would

usually take five or six bitter almonds to prevent the operation of the

wine; but whenever he was forbidden that, he knocked under presently,

and a single glass dozed him. Some think these almonds have a

penetrating, abstersive quality, are able to cleanse the face, and clear

it from the common freckles; and therefore, when they are eaten, by

their bitterness vellicate and fret the pores, and by that means draw

down the ascending vapors from the head. But, in my opinion, a bitter

quality is a drier, and consumes moisture; and therefore a bitter taste

is the most unpleasant. For, as Plato says, dryness, being an enemy

to moisture, unnaturally contracts the spongy and tender nerves of the

tongue. And green ulcers are usually drained by bitter injections. Thus

Homer:--

He squeezed his herbs, and bitter juice applied;

And straight the blood was stanched, the sore was dried.

("Iliad," xi. 846.)

And he guesses well, that what is bitter to the taste is a drier.

Besides, the powders women use to dry up their sweat are bitter, and

by reason of that quality astringent. This then being certain, it is no

wonder that the bitterness of the almonds hinders the operation of the

wine, since it dries the inside of the body and keeps the veins from

being overcharged; for from their distention and disturbance they say

drunkenness proceeds. And this conjecture is much confirmed from that

which usually happens to a fox; for if he eats bitter almonds without

drinking, his moisture suddenly fails, and it is present death.

QUESTION VII. WHY OLD MEN LOVE PURE WINE.

PLUTARCH AND OTHERS.

It was debated why old men loved the strongest liquors. Some, fancying

that their natural heat decayed and their constitution grew cold, said

such liquors were most necessary and agreeable to their age; but this

was mean and the obvious, and besides, neither a sufficient nor a true

reason; for the like happens to all their other senses. For they are not

easily moved or wrought on by any qualities, unless they are in intense

degrees and make a vigorous impression; but the reason is the laxity

of the habit of their body, for that, being grown lax and weak, loves a

smart stroke. Thus their taste is pleased most with strong sapors, their

smelling with brisk odors; for strong and unalloyed qualities make a

more pleasing impression on the sense. Their touch is almost senseless

to a sore, and a wound generally raises no sharp pain. The like also in

their hearing may be observed; for old musicians play louder and sharper

than others, that they may move their own dull tympanum with the sound.

For what steel is to the edge in a knife, that spirit is to the sense in

the body; and therefore, when the spirits fail, the sense grows dull and

stupid, and cannot be raised, unless by something, such as strong wine,

that makes a vigorous impression.

QUESTION VIII. WHY OLD MEN READ BEST AT A DISTANCE.

PLUTARCH, LAMPRIAS, AND OTHERS.

To my discourse in the former problem some objection may be drawn from

the sense of seeing in old men; for, if they hold a book at a distance,

they will read pretty well, nearer they cannot see a letter and this

Aeschylus means by these verses:--

Behold from far; for near thou canst not see;

A good old scribe thou mayst much sooner be.

And Sophocles more plainly:--

Old men are slow in talk, they hardly hear;

Far off they see; but all are blind when near.

And therefore, if old men's organs are more obedient to strong and

intense qualities, why, when they read, do they not take the reflection

near at hand, but, holding the book a good way off, mix and weaken it by

the intervening air, as wine by water?

Some answered, that they did not remove the book to lesson the light,

but to receive more rays, and let all the space between the letters and

their eyes be filled with lightsome air. Others agreed with those that

imagine the rays of vision mix with one another; for since there is a

cone stretched between each eye and the object, whose point is in the

eye and whose basis is the object, it is probable that for some way each

cone extends apart and by itself; but, when the distance increases, they

mix and make but one common light; and therefore every object appears

single and not two, though it is seen by both eyes at once; for the

conjunction of the cones makes these two appearances but one. These

things supposed, when old men hold the letters close to their eyes, the

cones not being joined, but each apart and by itself, their sight is

weak; but when they remove it farther, the two lights being mingled and

increased, see better, as a man with both hands can hold that for which

either singly is too weak.

But my brother Lamprias, though unacquainted with Hieronymus's notions,

gave us another reason. We see, said he, some species that come from the

object to the eye, which at their first rise are thick and great; and

therefore when near disturb old men, whose eyes are stiff and not easily

penetrated; but when they are separated and diffused into the air, the

thick obstructing parts are easily removed, and the subtile remainders

coming to the eye gently and easily slide into the pores; and so the

disturbance being less, the sight is more vigorous and clear. Thus a

rose smells most fragrant at a distance; but if you bring it near the

nose, it is not so pure and delightful; and the reason is this,--many

earthy disturbing particles are carried with the smell, and spoil the

fragrancy when near, but in a longer passage those are lost, and the

pure brisk odor, by reason of its subtility, reaches and acts upon the

sense.

But we, according to Plato's opinion, assert that a bright spirit darted

from the eye mixes with the light about the object, and those two are

perfectly blended into one similar body; now these must be joined in due

proportion one to another; for one part ought not wholly to prevail on

the other, but both, being proportionally and amicably joined, should

agree in one third common power. Now this (whether flux, illuminated

spirit, or ray) in old men being very weak, there can be no combination,

no mixture with the light about the object; but it must be wholly

consumed, unless, by removing the letters from their eyes, they lessen

the brightness of the light, so that it comes to the sight not too

strong or unmixed, but well proportioned and blended with the other. And

this explains that common affection of creatures seeing in the dark; for

their eyesight being weak is overcome and darkened by the splendor of

the day; because the little light that flows from their eyes cannot be

proportionably mixed with the stronger and more numerous beams; but it

is proportionable and sufficient for the feeble splendor of the stars,

and so can join with it, and cooperate to move the sense.

QUESTION IX. WHY FRESH WATER WASHES CLOTHES BETTER THAN SALT.

THEON, THEMISTOCLES, METRIUS, FLORUS, PLUTARCH; AND OTHERS.

Theon the grammarian, when Metrius Florus gave us an entertainment,

asked Themistocles the Stoic, why Chrysippus, though he frequently

mentioned some strange phenomena in nature (as that salt meat soaked in

salt water grows fresher than before; fleeces of wool are more easily

separated by a gentle than a quick and violent force, and men that are

fasting eat slower than those who took a breakfast), yet never gave any

reason for the appearance. And Themistocles replied, that Chrysippus

only proposed such things by the by, as instances to correct us,

who easily assent and without any reason to what seems likely, and

disbelieve everything that seems unlikely at the first sight. But why,

sir, are you concerned at this? For if you are speculative and would

inquire into the causes of things you need not want subjects in your own

profession; but pray tell me why Homer makes Nausicaa wash in the river

rather than the sea, though it was near, and in all likelihood hotter,

clearer, and fitter to wash with than that?

And Theon replied: Aristotle hath already given an account for this from

the grossness of the sea water; for in this an abundance of rough

earthy particles is mixed, and those make it salt; and upon this account

swimmers or any other weights sink not so much in sea water as in fresh

for the latter, being thin and weak, yields to every pressure and is

easily divided, because it is pure and unmixed and by reason of

this subtility of parts it penetrates better than salt water, and so

looseneth from the clothes the sticking particles of the spot. And is

not this discourse of Aristotle very probable?

Probable indeed, I replied, but not true; for I have observed that with

ashes, gravel, or, if these are not to be gotten, with dust itself they

usually thicken the water, as if the earthy particles being rough

would scour better than fair water, whose thinness makes it weak and

ineffectual. And therefore he is mistaken when he says the thickness

of the sea water hinders the effect, since the sharpness of the mixed

particles very much conduces to make it cleansing; for that open the

pores, and draws out the stain. But since all oily matter is most

difficult to be washed out and spots a cloth, and the sea is oily, that

is the reason why it doth not scour as well as fresh and that it is

oily, even Aristotle himself asserts, for salt in his opinion hath some

oil in it, and therefore makes candles, when sprinkled on them, burn

the better and clearer than before. And sea water sprinkled on a flame

increaseth it, and it more easily kindled than any other; in my opinion,

makes it hotter than the fresh. And besides, I may urge another cause;

for the end of washing is drying, and that seems cleanest which is

driest; and the moisture that scours (as hellebore, with the humors that

it purges) ought to fly away quickly together with the stain. The sun

quickly draws out the fresh water, because it is so light but the salt

water being rough lodges in the pores, and therefore is not easily

dried.

And Theon replied: You say just nothing, sir; for Aristotle in the same

book affirms that those that wash in the sea, if they stand in sun, are

sooner dried than those that wash in the fresh streams. If it is true,

I am answered, he says so; but I hope that Homer asserting the contrary

will, by you especially, be more easily believed; for Ulysses (as he

writes) after his shipwreck meeting Nausicaa,

A frightful sight, and with the salt besmeared

said to her maidens,

Retire a while, till I have washed my skin,

And when he had leaped into the river,

He from his head did scour the foaming sea.

(See "Odyssey," vi. 137, 218, 226.)

The poet knew very well what happens in such a case; for when those that

come wet out of the sea stand in the sun, the subtilest and lightest

parts suddenly exhale, but the salt and rough particles stick upon

the body in a crust, till they are washed away by the fresh water of a

spring.

QUESTION X. WHY AT ATHENS THE CHORUS OF THE TRIBE AEANTIS WAS NEVER

DETERMINED TO BE THE LAST.

PHILOPAPPUS, MARCUS, MILO, GLAUCIAS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.

When we were feasting at Serapion's, who gave an entertainment after the

tribe Leontis under his order and direction had won the prize (for we

were citizens and free of that tribe), a very pertinent discourse, and

proper to the then occasion, happened. It had been a very notable trial

of skill, the king Philopappus being very generous and magnificent in

his rewards, and defraying the expenses of all the tribes. He was at

the same feast with us and being a very good-humored man and eager for

instruction, he would now and then freely discourse of ancient customs,

and as freely hear.

Marcus the grammarian began thus: Neanthes the Cyzicenian, in his book

called the "Fabulous Narrations of the City," affirms that it was

a privilege of the tribe Aeantis that their chorus should never be

determined to be the last. It is true, he brings some stories for

confirmation of what he says; but if he falsifies, the matter is open,

and let us all inquire after the reason of the thing. But, says Milo,

suppose it be a mere tale. It is no strange thing replied Philopappus,

if in our disquisitions after truth we meet now and then with such

a thing as Democritus the philosopher did; for he one day eating a

cucumber, and finding it of a honey taste, asked his maid where she

bought it; and she telling him in such a garden, he rose from table and

bade her direct him to the place. The maid surprised asked him what he

meant; and he replied, I must search after the cause of the sweetness

of the fruit, and shall find it the sooner if I see the place. The maid

with a smile replied, Sit still, pray, sir, for I unwittingly put it

into a honey barrel. And he, as it were discontented, cried out, Shame

take thee, yet I will pursue my purpose, and seek after the cause, as if

this sweetness were a taste natural and proper to the fruit. Therefore

neither will we admit Neanthes's credulity and inadvertency in some

stories as an excuse and a good reason for avoiding this disquisition;

for we shall exercise our thoughts by it, though no other advantage

rises from that inquiry.

Presently every one poured out something in commendation of that

tribe, mentioning every matter that made for its credit and reputation.

Marathon was brought in as belonging to it, and Harmodius with his

associates, by birth Aphidneans, were also produced as glorious members

of that tribe. The orator Glaucias proved that that tribe made up the

right wing in the battle at Marathon, from the elegies of Aeschylus, who

had himself fought valiantly in the same encounter; and farther evinced

that Callimachus the field marshal was of that tribe, who behaved

himself very bravely, and was the principal cause next to Miltiades,

with whose opinion he concurred, that that battle was fought. To this

discourse of Glaucias I added, that the edict which impowered Miltiades

to lead forth the Athenians, was made when the tribe Aeantis was chief

of the assembly, and that in the battle of Plataea the same tribe won

the greatest glory; and upon that account, as the oracle directed, that

tribe offered a sacrifice for this victory to the nymphs Sphragitides,

the city providing a victim and all other necessaries belonging to it.

But you may observe (I continued) that other tribes likewise have their

peculiar glories; and you know that mine, the tribe Leontids, yields

to none in any point of reputation. Besides, consider whether it is not

more probable that this was granted out of a particular respect, and

to please Ajax, from whom this tribe received its name; for we know

he could not endure to be outdone, but was easily hurried on to the

greatest enormities by his contentious and passionate humor; and

therefore to comply with him and afford him some comfort in his

disasters, they secured him from the most vexing grievance that follows

the misfortune of the conquered, by ordering that his tribe should never

be determined to be last.

BOOK II.

Of the several things that are provided for an entertainment,

some, my Sossius Senecio, are absolutely necessary; such are wine,

bread, meat, lounges, and tables. Others are brought in, not for

necessity, but pleasure; such are songs, shows, mimics, and buffoons;

which, when present, delight indeed, but when absent, are not eagerly

desired; nor is the entertainment looked upon as mean because such

things are wanting. Just so of discourses; some the sober men admit as

necessary to a banquet, and others for their pretty nice speculations,

as more profitable and agreeable than the fiddle and the pipe. My former

book gives you examples of both sorts. Of the first are these, Whether

we should philosophize at table?--Whether the entertainer should appoint

proper seats, or leave the guests to agree upon there own? Of the

second, Why lovers are inclined to poetry? And the question about the

tribe of Aeantis. The former I call properly [Greek omitted] but both

together I comprehend under the general name of Symposiacs. They are

promiscuously set down, not in the exact method, but as each singly

occurred to memory. And let not my readers wonder that I dedicate these

collections to you, which I have received from others or your own

mouth; for if all learning is not bare remembrance, yet to learn and to

remember are very commonly one and the same.

QUESTION I

WHAT, AS XENOPHON INTIMATES, ARE THE MOST AGREEABLE QUESTIONS AND MOST

PLEASANT RAILLERY AT AN ENTERTAINMENT?

SOSSIUS, SENECIO, AND PLUTARCH.

Now each book being divided into ten questions, that shall make the

first in this, which Socratial Xenophon hath as it were proposed; for he

tells that, Gobryas banqueting with Cyrus, amongst other things he found

admirable in the Persians, was surprised to hear them ask one another

such questions that it was more pleasant to be interrogated than to be

let alone, and pass such jests on one another that it was more pleasant

to be jested on than not. For if some, even whilst they praise, offend,

why should not their polite and neat facetiousness be admired, whose

very raillery is delightful and pleasant to him that is the subject of

it? Once you said: I wish I could learn what kind of questions those

are; for to be skilled in and make right use of apposite questions and

pleasant raillery, I think is no small part of conversation.

A considerable one, I replied; but pray observe whether Xenophon

himself, in his descriptions of Socrates's and the Persian

entertainments, hath not sufficiently explained them. But if you would

have my thoughts, first, men are pleased to be asked those questions

to which they have an answer ready; such are those in which the persons

asked have some skill and competent knowledge; for when the inquiry is

above their reach, those that can return nothing are troubled, as

if requested to give something beyond their power; and those that do

answer, producing some crude and insufficient demonstration, must needs

be very much concerned, and apt to blunder on the wrong. Now, if the

answer not only is easy but hath something not common, it is more

pleasing to them that make it; and this happens, when their knowledge

is greater than that of the vulgar, as suppose they are well skilled

in points of astrology or logic. For not only in action and serious

matters, but also in discourse, every one hath a natural disposition to

be pleased (as Euripides hath it)

To seem far to outdo himself.

And all are delighted when men put such questions as they understand,

and would have others know that they are acquainted with; and therefore

travellers and merchants are most satisfied when their company is

inquisitive about other countries, the unknown ocean, and the laws

and manners of the barbarians; they are very ready to inform them,

and describe the countries and the creeks, imagining this to be some

recompense for their toil, some comfort for the dangers they have

passed. In short, whatever though unrequested, we are wont to discourse

of, we are desirous to be asked; because then we seem to gratify

those whom otherwise our prattle would disturb and force from our

conversation. And this is the common disease of travellers. But more

genteel and modest men love to be asked about those things which they

have bravely and successfully performed, and which modesty will not

permit to be spoken by themselves before company; and therefore Nestor

did well when, being acquainted with Ulysses's desire of reputation, he

said,

Tell, brave Ulysses, glory of the Greeks,

How you the horses seized.

("Iliad," x. 544.)

For man cannot endure the insolence of those who praise themselves and

repeat their own exploits, unless the company desires it and they are

forced to a relation; therefore it tickles them to be asked about their

embassies and administrations of the commonwealth, if they have done

anything notable in either. And upon this account the envious and

ill-natured start very few questions of that they sort; that thwart

and hinder all such kind of motions, being very unwilling to give any

occasion or opportunity for that discourse which shall tend to the

advantage of the relater. In short, we please those to whom we put them,

when we start questions about those matters which their enemies hate to

hear.

Ulysses says to Alcinous,

You bid me tell what various ills I bore,

That the sad tale might make me grieve the more.

(Sophocles, "Oedipus at Colonus," 510.)

And Oedipus says to the chorus,

'Tis pain to raise again a buried grief.

("Odyssey," ix. 12.)

But Euripides on the contrary,

How sweet it is, when we are lulled in ease,

To think of toils!--when well, of a disease!

(Euripides, "Andromeda," Frag. 131.)

True indeed, but not to those that are still tossed, still under a

misfortune. Therefore be sure never ask a man about his own calamities;

it is irksome to relate his losses of children or estate, or any

unprosperous adventure by sea or land; but ask a man how he carried the

cause, how he was caressed by the king, how he escaped such a storm,

such an assault, thieves, and the like; this pleaseth him, he seems to

enjoy it over again in his relation, and is never weary of the topic.

Besides, men love to be asked about their happy friends, or children

that have made good progress in philosophy or the law, or are great at

court; as also about the disgrace and open conviction of their enemies;

or of such matters they are most eager to discourse, yet are cautious

of beginning it themselves, lest they should seem to insult over and

rejoice at the misery of others. You please a hunter if you ask

him about dogs, a wrestler about exercise, and an amorous man about

beauties; the ceremonious and superstitious man discourses about dreams,

and what success he hath had by following the directions of omens

or sacrifices, and by the kindness of the gods; and some questions

concerning those things will extremely please him. He that inquires

anything of an old man, though the story doth not at all concern him,

wins his heart, and urges one that is very willing to discourse:--

Nelides Nestor, faithfully relate

How great Atrides died, what sort of fate;

And where was Menelaus largely tell?

Did Argos hold him when the hero fell?

("Odyssey," iii. 247.)

Here is a multitude of questions and variety of subjects; which is much

better than to confine and cramp his answers, and so deprive the old

man of the most pleasant enjoyment he can have. In short, they that

had rather please than distaste will still propose such questions, the

answers to which shall rather get the praise and good-will than the

contempt and hatred of the hearers. And so much of questions.

As for raillery, those that cannot use it cautiously with art, and time

it well, should never venture at it. For as in a slippery place, if you

but just touch a man as you pass by, you throw him down; so when we are

in drink, we are in danger of tripping at every little word that is not

spoken with due address. And we are more apt to be offended with a joke

than a plain and scurrilous abuse; for we see the latter often slip

from a man unwittingly in passion, but consider the former as a thing

voluntary, proceeding from malice and ill-nature; and therefore we are

generally more offended at a sharp jeerer than a whistling snarler. Such

a jest has indeed something designedly malicious about it, and often

seems to be an insult skilfully devised and prepared. For instance, he

that calls thee salt-fish monger plainly and openly abuseth; but he that

says, I remember when you wiped your nose upon your sleeve, maliciously

jeers. Such was Cicero's to Octavius, who was thought to be descended

from an African slave; for when Cicero spoke something, and Octavius

said he did not hear him, Cicero rejoined, Remarkable, for you have

a hole through your ear. And Melanthius, when he was ridiculed by a

comedian, said, You pay me now something that you do not owe me. And

upon this account jeers vex more; for like bearded arrows they stick a

long while, and gall the wounded sufferer. Their smartness is pleasant,

and delights the company; and those that are pleased with the saving

seem to believe the detracting speaker. For according to Theophrastus,

a jeer is a figurative reproach for some fault or misdemeanor; and

therefore he that hears it supplies the concealed part, as if he knew

and gave credit to the thing. For he that laughs and is tickled at what

Theocritus said to one whom he suspected of a design upon his clothes,

and who asked him if he went to supper at such a place,--Yes, he

replied, I go, but shall likewise lodge there all night,--doth, as it

were, confirm the accusation, and believe the fellow was a thief. And

therefore an impertinent jeerer makes the whole company seem ill-natured

and abusive, as being pleased with and consenting to the scurrility of

the jeer. It was one of the excellent laws in Sparta, that none should

be bitter in their jests, and the jeered should patiently endure; but

if he took offence, the other was to forbear, and pursue the frolic

no farther. How is it possible therefore to determine such raillery as

shall delight and please the person that is jested on, when to be smart

without offence is no mean piece of cunning and address?

First then, such as will vex and gall the conscious must please those

that are clean, innocent, and not suspected of the matter. Such a joke

is Xenophon's, when he pleasantly brings in a very ugly ill-looking

fellow, and is smart upon him for being Sambaulas's minion. Such was

that of Aufidius Modestus, who, when our friend Quinitus in an ague

complained his hands were cold, replied, Sir, you brought them warm from

your province; for this made Quintius laugh, and extremely pleased

him; yet it had been a reproach and abuse to a covetous and oppressing

governor. Thus Socrates, pretending to compare faces with the beauteous

Critobulus, rallied only, and not abused. And Alcibiades again was smart

on Socrates, as his rival in Agatho's affection. Kings are pleased when

jests are put upon them as if they were private and poor men. Such was

the flatterer's to Philip, who chided him: Sir, don't I keep you? For

those that mention faults of which the persons are not really guilty

intimate those virtues with which they are really adorned. But then it

is requisite that those virtues should be evident and certainly belong

to them; otherwise the discourse will breed disturbance and suspicion.

He that tells a very rich man that he will procure him a sum of

money,--a temperate sober man, and one that drinks water only, that

he is foxed, or hath taken a cup too much,--a hospitable, generous,

good-humored man, that he is a niggard and pinch-penny,--or threatens

an excellent lawyer to meet him at the bar,--must make the persons smile

and please the company. Thus Cyrus was very obliging and complaisant,

when he challenged his playfellows at those sports in which he was sure

to be overcome. And Ismenias piping at a sacrifice, when no good omens

appeared, the man that hired him snatched the pipe, and played very

ridiculously himself; and when all found fault, he said: To play

satisfactorily is the gift of Heaven. And Ismenias with a smile replied:

Whilst I played, the gods were so well pleased that they were careless

of the sacrifice; but to be rid of thy noise they presently received it.

But more, those that jocosely put scandalous names upon things

commendable, if it be opportunely done, please more than he that plainly

and openly commends; for those that cover a reproach under fair and

respectful words (as he that calls an unjust man Aristides, a coward

Achilles) gall more than those that openly abuse. Such is that of

Oedipus, in Sophocles,--

The faithful Creon, my most constant friend.

(Sophocles, "Oedipus Tyrannus," 385.)

The familiar irony in commendations answers to this on the other side.

Such Socrates used, when he called the kind endeavor and industry of

Antisthenes to make men friends pimping, bawds-craft, and allurement;

and others that called Crates the philosopher, who wherever he went was

caressed and honored, the door-opener.

Again, a complaint that implies thankfulness for a received favor is

pleasant raillery. Thus Diogenes of his master Antisthenes:--

That man that made me leave my precious ore,

Clothed me with rags, and forced me to be poor;

That man that made me wander, beg my bread,

And scorn to have a house to hide my head.

For it had not been half so pleasant to have said, that man that made

me wise, content, and happy. And a Spartan, making as if he would find

fault with the master of the exercises for giving him wood that would

not smoke, said, He will not permit us even to shed a tear. And he calls

a hospitable man, and one that treats often, a kidnapper, and a tyrant

who for a long time would not permit him to see his own table; and he

whom the king hath raised and enriched, that says he had a design

upon him and robbed him of his sleep and quiet. So if he that hath an

excellent vintage should complain of Aeschlus's Cabeiri for making him

want vinegar, as they haul jocosely threatened. For such as these have

a pungent pleasantness, so that the praised are not offended nor take it

ill.

Besides, he that would be civilly facetious must know the difference

between a vice and a commendable study or recreation; for instance,

between the love of money or contention and of music or hunting; for men

are grieved if twitted with the former, but take it very well if they

are laughed at for the latter. Thus Demosthenes the Mitylenean was

pleasant enough when, knocking at a man's door that was much given to

singing and playing on the harp, and being bid come in, he said, I

will, if you will tie up your harp. But the flatterer of Lysimachus was

offensive; for being frighted at a wooden scorpion that the king threw

into his lap, and leaping out of his seat, he said after he knew the

humor, And I'll fright your majesty too; give me a talent.

In several things about the body too the like caution is to be observed.

Thus he that is jested on for a flat or hooked nose usually laughs

at the jest. Thus Cassander's friend was not at all displeased when

Theophrastus said to him, 'Tis strange, sir, that your eyes don't play,

since your nose is so near and so well fitted for a pipe to give them

the tune; and Cyrus commanded a long hawk-nosed fellow to marry a

flat-nosed girl, for then they would very well agree. But a jest on any

for his stinking breath or filthy nose is irksome; for baldness it may

be borne, but for blindness or infirmity in the eyes it is intolerable.

It is true, Antigonus would joke upon himself, and once, receiving a

petition written in great letters, he said, This a man may read if he

were stark blind. But he killed Theocritus the Chian for saying,--wh

Byzantine to Pasiades saying, Sir, your eyes are weak, replied, You

upbraid me with this infirmity, not considering that thy son carries the

vengeance of Heaven on his back: now Pasiades's son was hunch-backed.

And Archippus the popular Athenian was much displeased with Melanthius

for being smart on his crooked back; for Melanthius had said that he did

not stand at the head of the state but bowed down before it. It is true,

some are not much concerned at such jeers. Thus Antigonus's friend, when

he had begged a talent and was denied, desired a guard, lest somebody

should rob him of that talent he was now to carry home. Different

tempers make men differently affected, and that which troubles one

is not regarded by another. Epaminondas feasting with his

fellow-magistrates drank vinegar; and some asking if it was good for his

health, he replied, I cannot tell that, but I know it makes me remember

what I drink at home. Therefore it becomes every man that would rally,

to look into the humors of his company, and take heed to converse

without offence.

Love, as in most things else, so in this matter causes different

effects; for some lovers are pleased and some displeased at a merry

jest. Therefore in this case a fit time must be accurately observed; for

as a blast of wind puffs out a fire whilst it is weak and little, but

when thoroughly kindled strengthens and increaseth it; so love, before

it is evident and confessed, is displeased at a discoverer, but when it

breaks forth and blazes in everybody's eyes, then it is delighted and

gathers strength by the frequent blasts of joke and raillery. When their

beloved is present it will gratify them most to pass a jest upon their

passion, but to fall on any other subject will be counted an abuse. If

they are remarkably loving to their own wives, or entertain a generous

affection for a hopeful youth, then are they proud, then tickled when

jeered for such a love. And therefore Arcesilaus, when an amorous man

in his school laid down this proposition, in my opinion one thing cannot

touch another, replied, Sir you touch this person, pointing to a lovely

boy that sat near him.

Besides, the company must be considered; for what a man will only laugh

at when mentioned amongst his friends and familiar acquaintance, he will

not endure to be told of before his wife, father, or his tutor, unless

perhaps it be something that will please those too; as for instance,

if before a philosopher one should jeer a man for going barefoot or

studying all night; or before his father, for carefulness and thrift; or

in the presence of his wife, for being cold to his companions and doting

upon her. Thus Tigranes, when Cyrus asked him, What will your wife say

when she hears that you are put to servile offices? replied, Sir, she

will not hear it, but be present herself and see it.

Again, those jokes are accounted less affronting which reflect somewhat

also on the man that makes them; as when one poor man, base-born fellow,

or lover jokes upon another. For whatever comes from one in the same

circumstances looks more like a piece of mirth than a designed affront;

but otherwise it must needs be irksome and distasteful. Upon this

account, when a slave whom the king had lately freed and enriched

behaved himself very impertinently in the company of some philosophers,

asking them, how it came to pass that the broth of beans whether white

or black, was always green, Aridices putting another question, why, let

the whips be white or not, the wales and marks they made were still red,

displeased him extremely, and made him rise from the table in a great

rage and discontent. But Amphias the Tarsian, who was supposed to

be sprung from a gardener, joking upon the governor's friend for his

obscure and mean birth, and presently subjoining, But 'tis true, I

sprung from the same seed, caused much mirth and laughter. And

the harper very facetiously put a cheek to Philip's ignorance and

impertinence; for when Philip pretended to correct him, he cried out,

God forbid, sir, that ever you should be brought so low as to understand

these things better than I. For by this seeming joke he instructed him

without giving any offence. And therefore some of the comedians seem

to lay aside their bitterness in every jest that may reflect upon

themselves; as Aristophanes, when he is merry upon a baldpate; and

Cratinus in his play "Pytine" upon drunkenness and excess.

Besides, you must be very careful that the jest should seem to be

extempore, taken from some present question or merry humor; not

far-fetched, as if premeditate and designed. For as men are not much

concerned at the anger and disputes among themselves at table while they

are drinking, but if any stranger should come in and offer abuse, they

would hate and look upon him as an enemy; so they will easily pardon and

indulge a jest if undesignedly taken from any present circumstance; but

if it is nothing to the matter in hand but fetched from another thing,

it must look like a design and be resented as an affront. Such was

that of Timagenes to the husband of a woman that often vomited,--"Thou

beginnest thy troubles by bringing home this vomiting woman," saying

[Greek omitted] (this vomiting woman), when the poet had written

[Greek omitted] (this Muse); and also his question to Athenodorus

the philosopher,--Is affection to our children natural? For when the

raillery is not founded on some present circumstance, it is an argument

of ill-nature and a mischievous temper; and such as these do often for

a mere word, the lightest thing in the world (as Plato says), suffer the

heaviest punishment. But those that know how to time and apply a jest

confirm Plato's opinion, that to rally pleasantly and facetiously is the

business of a scholar and a wit.

QUESTION II. WHY IN AUTUMN MEN HAVE BETTER STOMACHS THAN IN OTHER

SEASONS OF THE YEAR.

GLAUCLAS, XENOCLES, LAMPRIAS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.

In Eleusis, after the solemn celebration of the sacred mysteries,

Glaucias the orator entertained us at a feast; where after the rest had

done, Xenocles of Delphi, as his humor is, began to be smart upon

my brother Lamprias for his good Boeotian stomach. I in his defence

opposing Xenocles, who was an Epicurean, said, Pray, sir, do not all

place the very substance of pleasure in privation of pain and suffering?

But Lamprias, who prefers the Lyceum before the Garden, ought by his

practice to confirm Aristotle's doctrine; for he affirms that every man

hath a better stomach in the autumn than in other seasons of the year,

and gives the reason, which I cannot remember at present. So much the

better (says Glaucias), for when supper is done, we will endeavor to

discover it ourselves. That being over, Glaucias and Xenocles drew

the autumnal fruit. One said that it scoured the body, and by this

evacuation continually raised new appetites. Xenocles affirmed, that

ripe fruit had usually a pleasing, vellicating sapor, and thereby

provoked the appetite better than sauces or sweetmeats; for sick men

of a vitiated stomach usually recover it by eating fruit. But Lamprias

said, that our natural heat, the principal instrument of nutrition, in

the midst of summer is scattered and becomes rare and weak, but when

autumn comes it unites again and gathers strength, being shut in by the

ambient cold and contraction of the pores, and I for my part said: In

summer we are more thirsty and use more moisture than in other seasons;

and therefore Nature, observing the same method in all her operations,

at this change of seasons employs the contrary and makes us hungry;

and to maintain an equal temper in the body, she gives us dry food to

countervail the moisture taken in the summer. Yet none can deny but that

the food itself is a partial cause; for not only new fruit, bread, or

corn, but flesh of the same year, is better tasted than that of the

former, more forcibly provokes the guests, and enticeth them to eat on.

QUESTION III. WHICH WAS FIRST THE BIRD OR THE EGG?

PLUTARCH, ALEXANDER, SYLLA, FIRMUS, SOSSIUS SENECIO, AND OTHERS.

When upon a dream I had forborne eggs a long time, on purpose that in

an egg (as in a heart) I might make experiment of a notable vision that

often troubled me; some at Sossius Senecio's table suspected that I was

tainted with Orpheus's or Pythagoras's opinions, and refused to eat an

egg (as some do the heart and brain) imagining it to be the principle of

generation. And Alexander the Epicurean ridiculingly repeated,

To feed on beans and parents' heads

Is equal sin;

As if the Pythagoreans meant eggs by the word [Greek omitted] (BEANS),

deriving it from [Greek omitted](TO CONCEIVE), and thought it as

unlawful to feed on eggs as on the animals that lay them. Now to pretend

a dream for the cause of my abstaining, to an Epicurean, had been a

defence more irrational than the cause itself; and therefore I suffered

jocose Alexander to enjoy his opinion, for he was a pleasant man and an

excellent scholar.

Soon after he proposed that perplexed question, that plague of the

inquisitive, Which was first, the bird or the egg? And my friend Sylla,

saying that with this little question, as with an engine, we shook the

great and weighty problem (whether the world had a beginning), declared

his dislike of such questions. But Alexander deriding the question as

slight and impertinent, my relation Firmus said:. Well, sir, at present

your atoms will do me some service; for if we suppose that small things

must be the principles of greater, it is likely that the egg was before

the bird; for an egg amongst sensible things is very simple, and the

bird is more mixed, and contains a greater variety of parts. It is

universally true that a principle is before that whose principle it is;

now the seed is a principle, and the egg is somewhat more than the seed

and less than the bird for as a disposition or a progress in goodness is

something between a tractable mind and a habit of virtue, so an egg

is as it were a progress of Nature tending from the seed to a perfect

animal. And as in an animal they say the veins and arteries are formed

first, upon the same account the egg should be before the bird, as the

thing containing before the thing contained. Thus art first makes rude

and ill-shapen figures and afterwards perfects everything with its

proper form; and it was for this that the statuary Polycletus said, Then

our work is most difficult, when the clay comes to be fashioned by the

fingers. So it is probable that matter, not readily obeying the slow

motions of contriving Nature, at first frames rude and indefinite

masses, as the egg, and of these moulded anew, and joined in better

order, the animal afterward is formed. As the canker is first, and then

growing dry and cleaving lets forth a winged animal, called psyche; so

the egg is first as it were the subject-matter of the generation. For

it is certain that, in every change, that out of which the thing changes

must be before the thing changing. Observe how worms and caterpillars

are bred in trees from the moisture corrupted or concocted; now none can

say but that the engendering moisture is naturally before all these. For

(as Plato says) matter is as a mother or nurse in respect of the bodies

that are formed, and we call that matter out of which anything that

is made. And with a smile continued he, I speak to those that are

acquainted with the mystical and sacred discourse of Orpheus, who not

only affirms the egg to be before the bird, but makes it the first being

in the whole world. The other parts, because deep mysteries, we shall

now pass by; but let us look upon the various kinds of animals, and we

shall find almost every one beginning from an egg,--fowls and fishes;

land animals, as lizards; amphibious, as crocodiles; some with two

legs, as a cock; some without any, as a snake; and some with many, as

a locust. And therefore in the solemn feast of Bacchus it is very well

done to dedicate an egg, as the emblem of that which begets and contains

everything in itself.

To this discourse of Firmus, Senecio replied: Sir, your last similitude

contradicts your first, and you have unwittingly opened the world

(instead of the door, as the proverb goes) against yourself. For the

world was before all, being the most perfect; and it is rational that

the perfect in Nature should be before the imperfect, as the sound

before the maimed, and the whole before the part. For it is absurd

that there should be a part when there is nothing whose part it is; and

therefore nobody says the seed's man or egg's hen, but the man's seed

and hen's egg; because those being after these and formed in them, pay

as it were a debt to Nature, by bringing forth another. For they are not

in themselves perfect, and therefore have a natural appetite to produce

such a thing as that out of which they were first formed; and therefore

seed is defined as a thing produced that is to be perfected by another

production. Now nothing can be perfected by or want that which as yet

is not. Everybody sees that eggs have the nature of a concretion or

consistence in some animal or other, but want those organs, veins, and

muscles which animals enjoy. And therefore no story delivers that ever

any egg was formed immediately from earth; and the poets themselves tell

us, that the egg out of which came the Tyndaridae fell down from heaven.

But even till this time the earth produceth some perfect and organized

animals, as mice in Egypt, and snakes, frogs, and grasshoppers almost

everywhere, some external and invigorating principle assisting in the

production. And in Sicily, where in the servile war much blood was shed,

and many carcasses rotted on the ground, whole swarms of locusts were

produced, and spoiled the corn over the whole isle. Such spring from and

are nourished by the earth; and seed being formed in them, pleasure

and titillation provoke them to mix, upon which some lay eggs, and some

bring forth their young alive; and this evidently proves that animals

first sprang from earth, and afterwards by copulation, after different

ways, propagated their several kinds. In short, it is the same thing

as if you said the womb was before the woman; for as the womb is to

the egg, the egg is to the chick that is formed in it; so that he that

inquires how birds should be when there were no eggs, might ask as well

how men and women could be before any organs of generation were

formed. Parts generally have their subsistence together with the whole;

particular powers follow particular members, and operations those

Powers, and effects those operations. Now the effect of the generative

power is the seed and egg; so that these must be after the formation

of the whole. Therefore consider, as there can be no digestion of food

before the animal is formed, so there can be no seed nor egg; for those,

it is likely, are made by some digestion and alterations; nor can it

be that, before the animal is, the superfluous parts of the food of the

animal should have a being. Besides, though seed may perhaps pretend to

be a principle, the egg cannot; for it doth not subsist first, nor

hath it the nature of a whole, for it is imperfect. Therefore we do not

affirm that the animal is produced without a principle of its being; but

we call the principle that power which changes, mixes, and tempers the

matter, so that a living creature is regularly produced; but the egg is

an after-production, as the blood or milk of an animal after the taking

in and digestion of the food. For we never see an egg formed immediately

of mud, for it is produced in the bodies of animals alone; but

a thousand living creatures rise from the mud. What need of many

instances? None ever found the spawn or egg of an eel; yet if you empty

a pit and take out all the mud, as soon as other water settles in it,

eels likewise are presently produced. Now that must exist first which

hath no need of any other thing that it may exist, and that after, which

cannot be without the concurrence of another thing. And of this priority

is our present discourse. Besides, birds build nests before they lay

their eggs; and women provide cradles, swaddling cloths and the like;

yet who says that the nest is before the egg, or the swaddling cloths

before the infant. For the earth (as Plato says doth not imitate a

woman, but a woman, and so likewise all other females, the earth.)

Moreover, it is probable that the first production out of the earth,

which was then vigorous and perfect, was self-sufficient and entire,

nor stood in need of those secundines, membranes, and vessels, which now

Nature forms to help the weakness and supply the defects of breeders.

QUESTION IV. WHETHER OR NO WRESTLING IS THE OLDEST EXERCISE.

SOSICLES, LYSIMACHUS, PLUTARCH, PHILINUS.

Sosicles of Coronea having at the Pythian games won the prize from all

the poets, gave us an entertainment. And the time for running, cuffing,

wrestling, and the like drawing on, there was a great talk of the

wrestlers; for there were many and very famous men, who came to try

their skill. Lysimachus, one of the company, a procurator of the

Amphictyons, said he heard a grammarian lately affirm that wrestling was

the most ancient exercise of all, as even the very name witnessed; for

some modern things have the names of more ancient transferred to them;

thus to tune a pipe is called fitting it, and playing on it is called

striking; both these names being transferred to it from the harp. Thus

all places of exercise they call wrestling schools, wrestling being the

oldest exercise, and therefore giving its name to the newer sorts. That,

said I, is no good argument, for these palaestras or wrestling schools

are called so from wrestling [Greek omitted] not because it is the most

ancient exercise, but because it is the only sort in which they use clay

[Greek omitted] dust, and oil; for in these there is neither racing nor

cuffing, but wrestling only, and that feature of the pancratium in

which they struggle on the ground,--for the pancratium comprises both

wrestling and cuffing. Besides, it is unlikely that wrestling, being

more artificial and methodical than any other sort of exercise, should

likewise be the most ancient; for mere want or necessity putting us upon

new inventions, produces simple and inartificial things first, and

such as have more of force in them than sleight and skill. This ended,

Sosicles said: You speak right, and I will confirm your discourse from

the very name; for, in my opinion, [Greek omitted] wrestling, is derived

from [Greek omitted] i.e. to throw down by sleight and artifice. And

Philinus said, it seems to me to be derived from [Greek omitted] the

palm of the hand, for wrestlers use that part most, as cuffers do the

[Greek omitted] fist; and hence both these sorts of exercises have

their proper names, the one [Greek omitted] the other [Greek omitted].

Besides, since the poets use the word [Greek omitted] for [Greek

omitted] and [Greek omitted], to sprinkle, and this action is most

frequent amongst wrestlers, this exercise [Greek omitted] may receive

its name from that word. But more, consider that racers strive to be

distant from one another; cuffers, by the judges of the field, are not

permitted to take hold; and none but wrestlers come up breast to breast,

and clasp one another round the waist, and most of their turnings,

liftings, lockings bring them very close. It is probable that this

exercise is called [Greek omitted] from [Greek omitted] or [Greek

omitted] to come up close or to be near together.

QUESTION V. WHY, IN RECKONING UP DIFFERENT KINDS OF EXERCISES, HOMER

PUTS CUFFING FIRST, WRESTLING NEXT, AND RACING LAST.

LYSIMACHUS, CRATES, TIMON, PLUTARCH.

This discourse being ended, and Philinus hummed, Lysimachus began again,

What sort of exercise then shall we imagine to be first? Racing, as at

the Olympian games? For here in the Pythian, as every exercise comes

on, all the contenders are brought in, the boy wrestlers first, then the

men, and the same method is observed when the cuffers and fencers are to

exercise; but there the boys perform all first, and then the men. But,

says Timon interposing, pray consider whether Homer hath not determined

this matter; for in his poems cuffing is always put in the first place,

wrestling next, and racing last. At this Menecrates the Thessalian

surprised cried out, Good God, what things we skip over! But, pray sir,

if you remember any of his verses to that purpose, do us the favor

to repeat them. And Timon replied: That the funeral solemnities of

Patroclus had this order I think every one hath heard; but the poet, all

along observing the same order, brings in Achilles speaking to Nestor

thus:

With this reward I Nestor freely grace,

Unfit for cuffing, wrestling, or the race.

And in his answer he makes the old man impertinently brag:--

I cuffing conquered Oinop's famous son,

With Anceus wrestled, and the garland won,

And outran Iphiclus.

("Iliad," xxiii. 620 and 634.)

And again he brings in Ulysses challenging the Phaeacians

To cuff, to wrestle, or to run the race;

and Alcinous answers:

Neither in cuffing nor in wrestling strong

But swift of foot are we.

("Odyssey" viii. 206 and 246.)

So that he doth not carelessly confound the order, and, according to

the present occasion, now place one sort first and now another; but he

follows the then custom and practice and is constant in the same. And

this was so as long as the ancient order was observed.

To this discourse of my brother's I subjoined, that I liked what he

said, but could not see the reason of this order. And some of the

company, thinking it unlikely that cuffing or wrestling should be a more

ancient exercise than racing, they desired me to search farther into the

matter; and thus I spake upon the sudden. All these exercises seem to me

to be representations of feats of arms and training therein; for after

all, a man armed at all points is brought in to show that that is the

end at which all these exercises and trainings end. And the privilege

granted to the conquerors, viz., as they rode into the city, to throw

down some part of the wall--hath this meaning; that walls are but a

small advantage to that city which hath men able to fight and overcome.

In Sparta those that were victors in any of the crowned games had an

honorable place in the army and were to fight near the king's person. Of

all other creatures a horse only can have a part in these games and win

the crown, for that alone is designed by nature to be trained to war,

and to prove assisting in a battle. If these things seem probable, let

us consider farther, that it is the first work of a fighter to strike

his enemy and ward the other's blows; the second, when they come up

close and lay hold of one another, to trip and overturn him; and

in this, they say, our countrymen being better wrestlers very much

distressed the Spartans at the battle of Leuctra. And Aeschylus

describes a warrior thus,--

One stout, and skilled to wrestle in his arms;

and Sophocles somewhere says of the Trojans,--

They rid the horse, they could the bow command

And wrestle with a rattling shield in hand.

But it is the third and last, either when conquered to fly, when

conquerors to pursue. And therefore it is likely that cuffing is

set first, wrestling next, and racing last; for the first bears the

resemblance of charging or warding the blows; the second, of close

fighting and repelling; the third, of flying a victorious, or pursuing a

routed enemy.

QUESTION VI. WHY FIR-TREES, PINE-TREES, AND THE LIKE WILL NOT BE GRAFTED

UPON.

SOCLARUS, CRATO, PHILO.

Soclarus entertaining us in his gardens, round which the river Cephissus

runs, showed us several trees strangely varied by the different grafts

upon their stocks. We saw an olive upon a juniper, a peach upon a

myrtle, pear grafts on an oak, apple upon a plane, a mulberry on a fig

and a great many such like, which were grown strong enough to bear. Some

joked on Soclarus as nourishing stranger kinds of things than the poets'

Sphinxes or Chimaeras, but Crato set us to inquire why those stocks only

that are of an oily nature will not admit such mixtures for we never see

a pine, fir, or cypress bear a graft of another kind.

And Philo subjoined: There is, Crato, a reason for this amongst the

philosophers, which the gardeners confirm and strengthen. For they say,

oil is very hurtful to all plants, and any plant dipped in it like

a bee, will soon die. Now these trees are of a fat and oily nature,

insomuch that they weep pitch and rosin; and, if you cut then gore (as

it were) appears presently in the wound. Besides, a torch made of them

sends forth an oily smoke, and the brightness of the flame shows it to

be fat; and upon this account these trees are as great enemies to all

other kinds of grafts as oil itself. To this Crato added, that the bark

was a partial cause; for that, being rare and dry, could not afford

either convenient room or sufficient nourishment to the grafts; but when

the bark is moist, it quickly joins with those grafts that are let into

the body of the tree.

Then Soclarus added: This too ought to be considered, that that which

receives a graft of another kind ought to be easy to be changed, that

the graft may prevail, and make the sap in the stock fit and natural

to itself. Thus we break up the ground and soften it, that being thus

broken it may more easily be wrought upon, and applied to what we plant

in it; for things that are hard and rigid cannot be so quickly wrought

upon nor so easily changed. Now those trees, being of very light wood,

do not mix well with the grafts, because they are very hard either to

be changed or overcome. But more, it is manifest that the stock which

receives the graft should be instead of a soil to it, and a soil should

have a breeding faculty; and therefore we choose the most fruitful

stocks to graft on, as women that are full of milk, when we would put

out a child to nurse. But everybody knows that the fir, cypress, and the

like are no great bearers. For as men very fat have few children (for,

the whole nourishment being employed in the body, there remains no

overplus to make seed), so these trees, spending all their sap in their

own stock, flourish indeed and grow great; but as for fruit, some bear

none at all, some very little, and that too slowly ripens; therefore it

is no wonder that they will not nourish another's fruit, when they are

so very sparing to their own.

QUESTION VII. ABOUT THE FISH CALLED REMORA OR ECHENEIS.

CHAEREMONIANUS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.

Chaeremonianus the Trallian, when we were at a very noble fish dinner,

pointing to a little, long, sharp-headed fish, said the echeneis

(ship-stopper) was like that, for he had often seen it as he sailed in

the Sicilian sea, and wondered at its strange force; for it stopped the

ship when under full sail, till one of the seamen perceived it

sticking to the outside of the ship, and took it off. Some laughed at

Chaeremonianus for believing such an incredible and unlikely story.

Others on this occasion talked very much of antipathies, and produced a

thousand instances of such strange effects; for example, the sight of

a ram quiets an enraged elephant; a viper lies stock-still, if touched

with a beechen leaf; a wild bull grows tame, if bound with the twigs

of a fig-tree; and amber draws all light things to it, except basil and

such as are dipped in oil; and a loadstone will not draw a piece of iron

that is rubbed with onion. Now all these, as to matter of fact, are

very evident; but it is hard, if not altogether impossible, to find the

cause.

Then said I: This is a mere shift and avoiding of the question, rather

than a declaration of the cause; but if we please to consider, we shall

find a great many accidents that are only consequents of the effect to

be unjustly esteemed the causes of it; as for instance, if we should

fancy that by the blossoming of the chaste-tree the fruit of the vine is

ripened; because this is a common saying,--

The chaste-tree blossoms, and the grapes grow ripe;

Or that the little protuberances in the candle-snuff thicken the air and

make it cloudy; or the hookedness of the nails is the cause and not an

accident consequential to an ulcer. Therefore as those things mentioned

are but consequents to the effect, though proceeding from one and the

same cause, so one and the same cause stops the ship, and joins the

echeneis to it; for the ship continuing dry, not yet made heavy by the

moisture soaking into the wood, it is probable that it lightly glides,

and as long as it is clean, easily cuts the waves; but when it is

thoroughly soaked, when weeds, ooze, and filth stick upon its sides, the

stroke of the ship is more obtuse and weak; and the water, coming upon

this clammy matter, doth not so easily part from it; and this is the

reason why they usually calk their ships. Now it is likely that the

echeneis in this case, sticking upon the clammy matter, is not thought

an accidental consequent to this cause, but the very cause itself.

QUESTION VIII. WHY THEY SAY THOSE HORSES CALLED [GREEK OMITTED] ARE VERY

METTLESOME.

PLUTARCH, HIS FATHER, AND OTHERS.

Some say the horses called [Greek omitted] received that name from the

fashion of their bridles (called [Greek omitted]), that had prickles

like the teeth on the wolf's jaw; for being fiery and hard-mouthed, the

riders used such to tame them. But my father, who seldom speaks but on

good reason, and breeds excellent horses, said, those that were set upon

by wolves when colts, if they escaped, grew swift and mettlesome, and

were called [Greek omitted] Many agreeing to what he said, it began

to be inquired why such an accident as that should make them more

mettlesome and fierce; and many of the company thought that, from such

an assault, fear and not courage was produced; and that thence growing

fearful and apt to start at everything, their motions became more quick

and vigorous, as they are in wild beasts when entangled in a net. But,

said I, it ought to be considered whether the contrary be not more

probable; for the colts do not become more swift by escaping the assault

of a wild beast, but they had never escaped unless they had been swift

and mettlesome before. As Ulysses was not made wise by escaping from the

Cyclops, but by being wise before he escaped.

QUESTION IX. WHY THE FLESH OF SHEEP BITTEN BY WOLVES IS SWEETER THAN

THAT OF OTHERS, AND THE WOOL MORE APT TO BREED LICE.

PATROCLIAS, THE SAME.

After the former discourse, mention was made of those sheep that wolves

have bitten; for it is commonly said of them, that their flesh is very

sweet, and their wool breeds lice. My relative Patroclias seemed to

be pretty happy in his reasoning upon the first part, saying, that the

beast by biting it did mollify the flesh; for wolves' spirits are so

hot and fiery, that they soften and digest the hardest bones and for

the same reason things bitten by wolves rot sooner than others. But

concerning the wool we could not agree, being not fully resolved whether

it breeds those lice, or only opens a passage for them, separating the

flesh by its fretting roughness or proper warmth; and appeared that this

power proceeded from the bite of wolf, which alters even the very hair

of the creature that it kills. And this some particular instances seem

to confirm; for we know some huntsmen and cooks will kill a beast with

one stroke, so that it never breathes after, whilst others repeat their

blows, and scarce do it with a great deal of trouble. But (what is more

strange) some, as they kill it, infuse such a quality that the flesh

rots presently and cannot be kept sweet above a day; yet others that

despatch it as soon find no such alteration, but the flesh will keep

sweet a long while. And that by the manner of killing a great alteration

is made even in the skins, nails, and hair of a beast, Homer seems to

witness, when, speaking of a good hide, he says,--

An ox's hide that fell by violent blows;

("Iliad," iii. 375.)

for not those that fell by a disease or old age, but by a violent death,

leave us tough and strong hides; but after they are bitten by wild

beasts, their hoofs grow black, their hair falls, their skins putrefy

and are good for nothing.

QUESTION X. WHETHER THE ANCIENTS, BY PROVIDING EVERY ONE HIS MESS, DID

BEST OR WE, WHO SET MANY TO THE SAME DISH.

PLUTARCH, HAGIAS.

When I was chief magistrate, most of the suppers consisted of distinct

messes, where every particular guest had his portion of the sacrifice

allowed him. Some were wonderfully well pleased with this order; others

blamed it as unsociable and ungenteel, and were of the opinion that, as

soon as I was out of my office, the manner of entertainments ought to be

reformed; for, says Hagias, we invite one another not barely to eat

and drink, but to eat and drink together. Now this division into messes

takes away all society, makes many suppers, and many eaters, but no one

sups with another; but every man takes his pound of beef, as from the

meat shop, sets it before himself, and falls on. And is it not the same

thing to provide a different cup and different table for every guest (as

the Demophontidae treated Orestes), as now to set each man his loaf of

bread and mess of meat, and feed him, as it were, out of his own proper

manger? Only, it is true, we are not (as those that treated Orestes

were) obliged to be silent and not discourse. Besides, that all the

guests should have a share in everything, we may draw an argument from

hence;--the same discourse is common to us all, the same songstress

sings, and the same musician plays to all. So, when the same cup is

set in the midst, not appropriated to any, it is a large spring of good

fellowship, and each man may take as much as his appetite requires;

not like this most unjust distribution of bread and meat, which prides

itself forsooth in being equal to all, though unequal, stomachs; for

the same share to a man of a small appetite is too much; to one of a

greater, too little. And, sir, as he that administers the very same dose

of physic to all sorts of patients must be very ridiculous; so likewise

must that entertainer who, inviting a great many guests that can neither

eat nor drink alike, sets before every one an equal mess, and measures

what is just and fit by an arithmetical not geometrical proportion. When

we go to a shop to buy, we all use, it is true, one and the same public

measure; but to an entertainment each man brings his own belly, which is

satisfied with a portion, not because it is equal to that which others

have, but because it is sufficient for itself. Those entertainments

where every one had his single mess Homer mentions amongst soldiers and

in the camp, which we ought not to bring into fashion amongst us; but

rather imitate the good friendship of the ancients, who, to show what

reverence they had for all kinds of societies, not only respected those

that lived with them or under the same roof, but also those that drank

out of the same cup or ate out of the same dish. Let us never mind

Homer's entertainments; they were good for nothing but to starve a man,

and the makers of them were kings more stingy and observant than the

Italian cooks; insomuch that in the midst of a battle, whilst they were

at handy-blows with their enemies, they could exactly reckon up how many

glasses each man drank at his table. But those that Pindar describes are

much better,--

Where heroes mixed sat round the noble board,

because they maintained society and good fellowship; for the latter

truly mixed and joined friends, but our modern system divides and

asperses them as persons who, though seemingly very good friends, cannot

so much as eat with one another out of the same dish.

To this polite discourse of Hagias they urged me to reply. And I

said: Hagias, it is true, hath reason to be troubled at this unusual

disappointment, because having so great a belly (for he was an excellent

trencherman) he had no larger mess than others; for in a fish eaten

together Democritus says, there are no bones. But that very thing is

likely to increase our share beyond our own proper allowance. For it is

equality, as the old woman in Euripides hath it,

That fastens towns to towns, and friends to friends;

(Euripides, "Phoenissae," 536.)

and entertainments chiefly stand in need of this. The necessity is from

nature as well as custom, and is not lately introduced or founded only

on opinion. For when the same dish lies in common before all, the man

that is slow and eats little must be offended at the other that is too

quick for him, as a slow ship at the swift sailor. Besides, snatching,

contention, shoving, and the like, are not, in my mind, neighborly

beginnings of mirth and jollity; but they are absurd, doggish, and

often end in anger or reproaches, not only against one another, but also

against the entertainer himself or the carvers of the feast. But as long

as Moera and Lachesis (DIVISION AND DISTRIBUTION) maintained equality

in feasts, nothing uncivil or disorderly was seen, and they called the

feasts [Greek omitted], DISTRIBUTIONS, the entertained [Greek omitted],

and the carvers [Greek omitted], DISTRIBUTERS, from dividing and

distributing to every man his proper mess. The Lacedaemonians had

officers called distributers of the flesh, no mean men, but the chief of

the city; for Lysander himself by king Agesilaus was constituted one of

these in Asia. But when luxury crept into our feasts, distributing was

thrown out; for I suppose they had not leisure to divide these numerous

tarts, cheese-cakes, pies, and other delicate varieties; but, surprised

with the pleasantness of the taste and tired with the variety, they

left off cutting it into portions, and left all in common. And this

is confirmed from the present practice; for in our religious or public

feasts, where the food is simple and inartificial, each man hath his

mess assigned him; so that he that endeavors to retrieve the ancient

custom will likewise recover thrift and almost lost frugality again.

But, you object, where only property is, community is lost. True indeed,

where equality is not; for not the possession of what is proper and our

own, but the taking away of another's and coveting that which is common,

is the cause of all injury and contention; and the laws, restraining and

confining these within the proper bounds, receive their name from their

office, being a power distributing equally to every one in order to the

common good. Thus every one is not to be honored by the entertainer with

the garland or the chiefest place; but if any one brings with him

his sweetheart or a singing girl, they must be common to him and his

friends, that all possessions may be brought together, as Anaxagoras

would have it. Now if propriety in these things doth not in the least

hinder but that things of greater moment, and the only considerable, as

discourse and civility, may be still common, let us leave off abasing

distributions or the lot, the son of Fortune (as Euripides hath

it), which hath no respect either to riches or honor, but in its

inconsiderate wheel now and then raiseth up the humble and the poor, and

makes him master of himself, and, by accustoming the great and rich to

endure and not be offended at equality, pleasingly instructs.

BOOK III

Simonides the poet, my Sossius Senecio, seeing one of the company sit

silent and discourse nobody, said: Sir, if you are fool, it is wisely

done; if a wise man, very foolishly. It is good to conceal a man's

folly (but as Heraclitus says) it is very hard to do it over a glass of

wine,--

Which doth the gravest men to mirth advance,

And let them loose to sing, to laugh, and dance,

And speak what had been better unsaid.

("Odyssey," xiv. 464.)

In which lines the poet in my mind shows the difference between being

a little heated and downright drunk; for to sing, laugh, and dance may

agree very well with those that have gone no farther than the merry cup;

but to prattle, and speak what had been better left unsaid, argues a

man to be quite gone. And therefore Plato thinks that wine is the must

ingenious discoverer of men's humors; and Homer, when he says,--

At feasts they had not known each other's minds,

(Ibid. xxi. 35.)

evidently shows that he knew wine was powerful to open men's thoughts,

and was full of new discoveries. It is true from the bare eating and

drinking, if they say nothing we can give no guess at the tempers of the

men; but because drinking leads them into discourse, and discourse lays

a great many things open and naked which were secret and hid before,

therefore to sport a glass of wine together lets us into one another's

humors. And therefore a man may reasonably fall foul on Aesop: Why sir,

would you have a window in every man's breast, through which we may look

in upon his thoughts? Wine opens and exposes all, it will not suffer us

to be silent, but takes off all mask and visor, and makes us regardless

of the severe precepts of decency and custom. Thus Aesop or Plato,

or any other that designs to look into a man, may have his desires

satisfied by the assistance of a bottle; but those that are not

solicitous to pump one another, but to be sociable and pleasant,

discourse of such matters and handle such questions as make no discovery

of the bad parts of the soul, but such as comfort the good, and, by

the help of neat and polite learning, lead the intelligent part into

an agreeable pasture and garden of delight This made me collect and

dedicate the first to you this third dedication of table discourses, the

first of which is about chaplets made of flowers.

QUESTION I. WHETHER IT IS FITTING TO WEAR CHAPLETS OF FLOWERS AT TABLE.

ERATO, AMMONIUS, TRYPHO, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.

At Athens Erato the musician keeping a solemn feast to the Muses, and

inviting a great many to the treat, the company was full of talk, and

the subject of the discourse garlands. For after supper many of all

sorts of flowers being presented to the guests, Ammonius began to jeer

me for choosing a rose chaplet before a laurel, saying that those made

of flowers were effeminate, and fitted toyish girls and women more than

grave philosophers and men of music. And I admire that our friend Erato,

that abominates all flourishing in songs, and blames good Agatho, who

first in his tragedy of the Mysians ventured to introduce the chromatic

airs, should himself fill his entertainment with such various and

such florid colors; yet, while he shuts out all the soft delights that

through the ears can enter to the soul, he should introduce others

through the eyes and through the nose, and make these garlands, instead

of signs of piety, to be instruments of pleasure. For it must be

confessed that this ointment gives a better smell than those trifling

flowers, which wither even in the hands of those that wreathe them.

Besides, all pleasure must be banished the company of philosophers,

unless it is of some use or desired by natural appetite; for as those

that are carried to a banquet by some of their invited friends (as, for

instance, Socrates carried Aristodemus to Agatho's table) are as civilly

entertained as the bidden guests, but he that goes on his own account

is shut out of doors; thus the pleasures of eating and drinking, being

invited by natural appetite, should have admission; but all the others

which come on no account and have only luxury to introduce them, ought

in reason to be denied.

At this some young men, not thoroughly acquainted with Ammonius's humor,

being abashed, privately tore their chaplets; but I, perceiving that

Ammonius proposed this only for discourse and disputation's sake,

applying myself to Trypho the physician, said: Sir, you must put off

that sparkling rosy chaplet as well as we, or declare, as I have often

heard you, what excellent preservatives these flowery garlands are

against the strength of liquor. But here Erato putting in said: What, is

it decreed that no pleasure must be admitted without profit? And must

we be angry with our delight, unless hired to endure it? Perhaps we

may have reason to be ashamed of ointments and purple vests, because

so costly and expensive, and to look upon them as (in the barbarian's

phrase) treacherous garments and deceitful odors; but these natural

smells and colors are pure and simple as fruits themselves, and without

expense or the curiosity of art. And I appeal to any one, whether it is

not absurd to receive the pleasant savors Nature gives us, and enjoy

and reject those smells and colors that the seasons afford us, because

forsooth they blossom with delight, if they have no other external

profit or advantage. Besides, we have an axiom against you, for if (as

you affirm) Nature makes nothing in vain, those things that have no

other use were designed on purpose to please and to delight. Besides,

observe that to thriving trees Nature hath given leaves, both for the

preservation of the fruit and of the stock itself; for those sometimes

warming, sometimes cooling it, the seasons creep on by degrees, and

do not assault it with all their violence at once. But now the flower,

whilst it is on the plant, is of no profit at all, unless we use it to

delight our nose with the admirable smell, and to please our eyes when

it opens that inimitable variety of colors. And therefore, when the

leaves are plucked off, the plants as it were suffer injury and grief.

There is a kind of an ulcer raised, and an unbecoming nakedness attends

them; and we must not only (as Empedocles says)

By all means spare the leaves that grace the palm,

but likewise of all other trees, and not injuriously against Nature

robbing them of their leaves, bring deformity on them to adorn

ourselves. But to pluck the flowers doth no injury at all. It is like

gathering of grapes at the time of vintage; unless plucked when ripe,

they wither of themselves and fall. And therefore, like the barbarians

who clothe themselves with the skins more commonly than with the wool of

sheep, those that wreathe leaves rather than flowers into garlands seem

to me to use the plants neither according to the dictates of reason nor

the design of Nature. And thus much I say in defence of those who sell

chaplets of flowers; for I am not grammarian enough to remember those

poems which tell us that the old conquerors in the sacred games were

crowned with flowers. Yet, now I think of it, there is a story of a rosy

crown that belongs to the Muses; Sappho mentions it in a copy of verses

to a woman unlearned and unacquainted with the Muses:--

Thou shalt unregarded lie

Cause ne'er acquainted with the Muses' Rose.

(From Sappho, Frag. 68.)

But if Trypho can produce anything to our advantage from physic, pray

let us have it.

Then Trypho taking the discourse said: The ancients were very curious

and well acquainted with all these things, because plants were the chief

ingredients of their physic. And of this some signs remain till now;

for the Tyrians offer to Agenor, and the Magnesians to Chiron, the first

supposed practitioners of physic, as the first fruits, the roots of

those plants which have been successful on a patient. And Bacchus was

not only counted a physician for finding wine, the most pleasing

and most potent remedy, but for bringing ivy, the greatest opposite

imaginable to wine, into reputation, and for teaching his drunken

followers to wear garlands of it, that by that means they might be

secured against the violence of a debauch, the heat of the liquor being

remitted by the coldness of the ivy. Besides, the names of several

plants sufficiently evidence the ancients curiosity in this matter; for

they named the walnut-tree [Greek omitted], because it sends forth a

heavy and [Greek omitted] drowsy spirit, which affects their heads who

sleep beneath it; and the daffodil, [Greek omitted], because it benumbs

the nerves and causes a stupid narcotic heaviness in the limbs, and

therefore Sophocles calls it the ancient garland flower of the great

(that is, the earthy) gods. And some say rue was called [Greek omitted]

from its astringent quality; for, by its dryness preceding from its

heat, it fixes [Greek omitted] or dries the seed, and is very hurtful

to great-bellied women. But those that imagine the herb amethyst [Greek

omitted], and the precious stone of the same name, are called so because

powerful against the force of wine are much mistaken; for both receive

there names from their color; for its leaf is not of the color of strong

wine, but resembles that of weak diluted liquor. And indeed I could

mention a great many which have their names from their proper virtues.

But the care and the experience of the ancients sufficiently appears in

those of which they made their garlands when they designed to be merry

and frolic over a glass of wine; for wine, especially when it seizes on

the head, and weakens the body just at the very spring and origin of

the sense, disturbs the whole man. Now the effluvia of flowers are an

admirable preservative against this, they secure the brain, as it were a

citadel, against the effects of drunkenness; for those that are hot

upon the pores and give the fumes free passage to exhale, and those

moderately cold repel and keep down the ascending vapors. Such are the

violet and rose; for the odors of both these are prevalent against any

ache and heaviness in the head. The flowers of the privet and crocus

bring those that have drunk freely into a gentle sleep; for they

send forth a smooth and gentle effluvia, which softly takes off all

asperities that arise in the body of the drunken; and so all things

being quiet and composed, the violence on the noxious humor is abated

and thrown off. The smells of some flowers being received into the brain

cleanse the organs and instruments of sense, and gently by their heat,

without any violence or force, dissolve the humors, and warm and cherish

the brain itself, which is naturally cold. And upon this account, they

call those little posies they hang about their necks [Greek omitted],

and anointed their breasts with the oils that were squeezed from them;

and of this Alcaeus is a witness, when he bids his friends,

Pour ointments o'er his laboring temples, pressed

With various cares, and o'er his aged breast.

For the warm odors shoot upward into the very brain, being drawn up by

the nostrils. For they did not call those garlands hung about the neck

[Greek omitted] because they thought the heart was the seat and citadel

of the mind [Greek omitted], for on that account they should rather have

called them [Greek omitted], but, as I said before, from their vapor

and exhalation. Besides, it is no strange thing that these smells of

garlands should be of so considerable a virtue; for some tell us that

the shadow of the yew, especially when it blossoms, kills those that

sleep under it; and a subtle spirit ariseth from pressed poppy, which

suddenly overcomes the unwary squeezers. And there is an herb called

alyssus, which to some that take it in their hands, to others that do

but look on it, is found a present remedy against the hiccough; and some

affirm that planted near the stalls it preserves sheep and goats from

the rot and mange. And the rose is called [Greek omitted], probably

because it sends forth a stream [Greek omitted] of odors; and for that

reason it withers presently. It is a cooler, yet fiery to look upon; and

no wonder, for upon the surface a subtile heat, being driven out by the

inward heat, looks vivid and appears.

QUESTION II. WHETHER IVY IS OF A HOT OR COLD NATURE.

AMMONIUS, TRYPHO, ERATO.

Upon this discourse, when we all hummed Trypho, Ammonius with a smile

said: It is not decent by any contradiction to pull in pieces, like a

chaplet, this various and florid discourse of Trypho's. Yet methinks the

ivy is a little oddly interwoven, and unjustly said by its cold powers

to temper the heat of strong wine; for it is rather fiery and hot, and

its berries steeped in wine make the liquor more apt to inebriate and

inflame. And from this cause, as in sticks warped by the fire, proceeds

the crookedness of the boughs. And snow, that for many days will lie on

other trees, presently melts from the branches of the ivy, and wastes

all around, as far as the warmth reaches. But the greatest evidence is

this. Theophrastus tells us, that when Alexander commanded Harpalus to

plant some Grecian trees in the Babylonian gardens, and--because the

climate is very hot and the sun violent--such as were leafy, thick, and

fit to make a shade, the ivy only would not grow; though all art and

diligence possible were used, it withered and died. For being hot

itself, it could not agree with the fiery nature of the soil; for excess

in similar qualities is destructive, and therefore we see everything as

it were affects its contrary; a cold plant flourishes in a hot ground,

and a hot plant is delighted with a cold. Upon which account it is that

bleak mountains, exposed to cold winds and snow, bear firs, pines,

and the like, full of pitch, fiery, and excellent to make a torch. But

besides, Trypho, trees of a cold nature, their little feeble heat not

being able to diffuse itself but retiring to the heart, shed their

leaves; but their natural oiliness and warmth preserve the laurel,

olive, and cypress always green; and the like too in the ivy may be

observed. And therefore it is not likely our dear friend Bacchus, who

called wine [Greek omitted] intoxicating and himself [Greek omitted],

should bring ivy into reputation for being a preservative against

drunkenness and an enemy to wine. But in my opinion, as lovers of wine,

when they have not any juice of the grape ready, drink ale, mead, cider,

or the like; thus he that in winter would have a vine-garland on his

head, and finding the vine naked and without leaves, used the ivy that

is like it; for its boughs are twisted and irregular, its leaves

moist and disorderly confused, but chiefly the berries, like ripening

clusters, make an exact representation of the vine. But grant the ivy to

be a preservative against drunkenness,--that to please you, Trypho, we

may name Bachus a physician,--still I affirm that power to proceed from

its heat, which either opens the pores or helps to digest the wine.

Upon this Trypho sat silent, studying for an answer. Erato addressing

himself to us youths, said: Trypho wants your assistance; help him

in this dispute about the garlands, or be content to sit without any.

Ammonius too bade us not be afraid, for he would not reply to any of our

discourses; and Trypho likewise urging me to propose something, I said:

To demonstrate that the ivy is cold is not so proper a task for me as

Trypho, for he often useth coolers and binders; but that proposition,

that wine in which ivy berries have been is more inebriating, is not

true; for that disturbance which it raiseth in those that drink it is

not so properly called drunkenness as alienation of mind or madness,

such as hyoscyamus and a thousand other things that set men beside

themselves usually produce. The crookedness of the bough is no argument

at all, for such violent and unnatural effects cannot be supposed to

proceed from any natural quality or power. Now sticks are bent by the

fire, because that draws the moisture, and so the crookedness is a

violent distortion; but the natural heat nourishes and preserves the

body. Consider, therefore, whether it is not the weakness and coldness

of the body that makes it wind, bend, and creep upon the ground; for

those qualities check its rise, and depress it in its ascent, and render

it like a weak traveller, that often sits down and then goes on again.

And therefore the ivy requires something to twine about, and needs a

prop; for it is not able to sustain and direct its own branches, because

it wants heat, which naturally tends upward. The snow is melted by the

wetness of the leaf, for water destroys it easily, passing through the

thin contexture, it being nothing but a congeries of small bubbles; and

therefore in very cold but moist places the snow melts as soon as in

hot. That it is continually green doth not proceed from its heat, for to

shed its leaves doth not argue the coldness of a tree. Thus the myrtle

and well fern, though not hot, but confessedly cold, are green all

the year. Some imagine this comes from the equal and duly proportioned

mixture of the qualities in the leaf, to which Empedocles hath added a

certain aptness of pores, through which the nourishing juice is orderly

transmitted, so that there is still supply sufficient. But now it is

otherwise in trees whose leaves fall, by reason of the wideness of their

higher and narrowness of their lower pores; for the latter do not send

juice enough, nor do the former keep it, but as soon as a small stock is

received pour it out. This may be illustrated from the usual watering of

our gardens; for when the distribution is unequal, the plants that are

always watered have nourishment enough, seldom wither, and look always

green. But you further argue, that being planted in Babylon it would not

grow. It was well done of the plant, methinks, being a particular

friend and familiar of the Boeotian god, to scorn to live amongst the

barbarians, or imitate Alexander in following the manners of those

nations; but it was not its heat but cold that was the cause of this

aversion, for that could not agree with the contrary quality. For one

similar quality doth not destroy but cherish another. Thus dry ground

bears thyme, though it is naturally hot. Now at Babylon they say the air

is so suffocating, so intolerably hot, that many of the more prosperous

sleep upon skins full of water, that they may lie cool.

QUESTION III. WHY WOMEN ARE HARDLY, OLD MEN EASILY, FOXED.

FLORUS, SYLLA.

Florus thought it strange that Aristotle in his discourse of

Drunkenness, affirming that old men are easily, women hardly, overtaken,

did not assign the cause, since he seldom failed on such occasions.

Therefore he proposed it to us (we were a great many acquaintance met

at supper) as a fit subject for our inquiry. Sylla began: One part will

conduce to the discovery of the other; and if we rightly hit the cause

in relation to the women, the difficulty, as it concerns the old men,

will be easily despatched; for their two natures are quite contrary.

Moistness, smoothness, and softness belong to the one; and dryness,

roughness, and hardness are the accidents of the other. As for women,

I think the principal cause is the moistness of their temper; this

produceth a softness in the flesh, a shining smoothness, and their usual

purgations. Now when wine is mixed with a great deal of weak liquor,

it is overpowered by that, loses its strength, and becomes flat and

waterish. Some reason likewise may be drawn from Aristotle himself; for

he affirms that those that drink fast, and take a large draught without

drawing breath, are seldom overtaken, because the wine doth not stay

long in their bodies, but having acquired an impetus by this greedy

drinking, suddenly runs through; and women are generally observed to

drink after that manner. Besides, it is probable that their bodies,

by reason of the continual deduction of the moisture in order to their

usual purgations, are very porous, and divided as it were into many

little pipes and conduits; into which when the wine falls, it is quickly

conveyed away, and doth not lie and fret the principal parts, from whose

disturbance drunkenness proceeds. But that old men want the natural

moisture, even the name [Greek omitted], in my opinion, intimates; for

that name was given them not as stooping to the earth [Greek omitted]

but as being in the habit of their body [Greek omitted] and [Greek

omitted], earthlike and earthy. Besides, the stiffness and roughness

prove the dryness of their nature. Therefore it is probable that, when

they drink, their body, being grown spongy by the dryness of its nature,

soaks up the wine, and that lying in the vessels it affects the senses

and prevents the natural motions. For as floods of water glide over the

close grounds, nor make them slabby, but quickly sink into the open and

chapped fields; thus wine, being sucked in by the dry parts, lies and

works in the bodies of old men. But besides, it is easy to observe,

that age of itself hath all the symptoms of drunkenness. These symptoms

everybody knows; viz., shaking of the joints, faltering of the tongue,

babbling, passion, forgetfulness, and distraction of the mind; many

of which being incident to old men, even whilst they are well and in

perfect health, are heightened by any little irregularity and accidental

debauch. So that drunkenness doth not beget in old men any new and

proper symptoms, but only intend and increase the common ones. And an

evident sign of this is, that nothing is so like an old man as a young

man drunk.

QUESTION IV. WHETHER THE TEMPER OF WOMEN IS COLDER OR HOTTER THAN THAT

OF MEN.

APOLLONIDES, ATHRYILATUS.

Thus Sylla said, and Apollonides the marshal subjoined: Sir, what you

discoursed of old men I willingly admit; but in my opinion you have

omitted a considerable reason in relation to the women, viz., the

coldness of their temper, which quencheth the heat of the strongest

wine, and makes it lose all its destructive force and fire. This

reflection seeming reasonable, Athryilatus the Thasian, a physician,

kept us from a hasty conclusion in this matter, by saying that some

supposed the female sex was not cold, but hotter than the male; and

others thought wine rather cold than hot.

When Florus seemed surprised at this discourse, Athryilatus continued:

Sir, what I mention about wine I shall leave to this man to make out

(pointing to me, for a few days before we had handled the same matter).

But that women are of a hot constitution, some suppose, may be proved,

first, from their smoothness, for their heat wastes all the superfluous

nourishment which breeds hair; secondly from their abundance of blood,

which seems to be the fountain and source of all the heat that is in the

body;--now this abounds so much in females, that they would be all on

fire, unless relieved by frequent and sudden evacuations. Thirdly, from

a usual practice of the sextons in burning the bodies of the dead, it is

evident that females are hotter than males; for the bedsmen are wont to

put one female body with ten males upon the same pile, for that contains

some inflammable and oily parts, and serves for fuel to the rest.

Besides, if that that is soonest fit for generation is hottest, and a

maid begins to be furious sooner than a boy, this is a strong proof

of the hotness of the female sex. But a more convincing proof follows:

women endure cold better than men, they are not so sensible of the

sharpness of the weather, and are contented with a few clothes.

And Florus replied: Methinks, sir, from the same topics I could draw

conclusions against your assertion. For, first, they endure cold better,

because one similar quality doth not so readily act upon another; and

then again, their seed is not active in generation, but passive matter

and nourishment to that which the male injects. But more, women grow

effete sooner than men; that they burn better than the males proceeds

from their fat, which is the coldest part of the body; and young men, or

such as use exercise, have but little fat. Their monthly purgations do

not prove the abundance, but the corruption and badness, of their blood;

for being the superfluous and undigested part, and having no convenient

vessel in the body it flows out, and appears languid and feculent, by

reason of the weakness of its heat. And the shivering that seizes them

at the time of their purgations sufficiently proves that which flows

from them is cold and undigested. And who will believe their smoothness

to be an effect of heat rather than cold, when everybody knows that the

hottest parts of a body are the most hairy? For all such excrements are

thrust out by the heat, which opens and makes passages through the skin;

but smoothness is a consequent of that closeness of the superficies

which proceeds from condensing cold. And that the flesh of women is

closer than that of men, you may be informed by those that lie with

women that have anointed themselves with oil or other perfumes; for

though they do not touch the women, yet they find themselves perfumed,

their bodies by reason of their heat and rarity drawing the odor to

them. But I think we have disputed plausibly and sufficiently of this

matter....

QUESTION V. WHETHER WINE IS POTENTIALLY COLD.

ATHRYILATUS, PLUTARCH.

But now I would fain know upon what account you can imagine that wine is

cold. Then, said I, do you believe this to be my opinion? Yes, said

he, whose else? And I replied: I remember a good while ago I met with a

discourse of Aristotle's upon this very question. And Epicurus, in his

Banquet, hath a long discourse, the sum of which is that wine of itself

is not hot, but that it contains some atoms that cause heat, and others

that cause cold; now, when it is taken into the body, it loses one sort

of particles and takes the other out of the body itself, as it agrees

with one's nature and constitution; so that some when they are drunk are

very hot, and others very cold.

This way of talking, said Florus, leads us by Protagoras directly to

Pyrrho; for it is evident that, suppose we were to discourse of

oil, milk, honey, or the like, we shall avoid all inquiry into their

particular natures by saying that things are so and so by their mutual

mixture with one another. But how do you prove that wine is cold? And I,

being forced to speak extempore, replied: By two arguments. The first I

draw from the practice of physicians, for when their patients' stomachs

grow very weak, they prescribe no hot things, and yet give them wine

as an excellent remedy. Besides, they stop looseness and immoderate

sweating by wine; and this shows that they think it more binding and

constipating than snow itself. Now if it were potentially hot, I should

think it as wise a thing to apply fire to snow as wine to the stomach.

Again, most teach that sleep proceeds from the coolness of the parts;

and most of the narcotic medicines, as mandrake and opium, are coolers.

Those indeed work violently, and forcibly condense, but wine cools by

degrees; it gently stops the motion, according as it hath more or less

of such narcotic qualities. Besides, heat has a generative power; for

owing to heat the fluid flows easily and the vital spirit gets vigor

and a stimulating force. Now the great drinkers are very dull, inactive

fellows, no women's men at all; they eject nothing strong, vigorous, and

fit for generation, but are weak and unperforming, by reason of the bad

digestion and coldness of their seed. And it is farther observable

that the effects of cold and drunkenness upon men's bodies are the

same,--trembling, heaviness, paleness, shivering, faltering of tongue,

numbness, and cramps. In many, a debauch ends in a dead palsy, when the

wine stupefies and extinguisheth all the heat. And the physicians use

this method in curing the qualms and diseases gotten by debauch; at

night they cover them well and keep them warm; and at day they annoint

and bathe, and give them such food as shall not disturb, but by degrees

recover the heat which the wine hath scattered and driven out of the

body. Thus, I added, in these appearances we trace obscure qualities and

powers; but as for drunkenness, it is easily known what it is. For, in

my opinion, as I hinted before, those that are drunk are very much like

old men; and therefore great drinkers grow old soonest, and they are

commonly bald and gray before their time; and all these accidents

certainly proceed from want of heat. But mere vinegar is of a vinous

nature, and nothing quenches fire so soon as that; its extreme coldness

overcomes and kills the flame presently. And of all fruits physicians

use the vinous as the greatest coolers, as pomegranates and apples.

Besides, do they not make wine by mixing honey with rain-water or snow;

for the cold, because those two qualities are near akin, if it prevails,

changes the luscious into a poignant taste? And did not the ancients of

all the creeping beasts consecrate the snake to Bacchus, and of all the

plants the ivy, because they were of a cold and frozen nature? Now, lest

any one should think this is a proof of its heat, that if a man takes

juice of hemlock, a large dose of wine cures him, I shall, on the

contrary affirm that wine and hemlock juice mixed is an incurable

poison, and kills him that drinks it presently. So that we can no more

conclude it to be hot because it resists, than to be cold because it

assists, the poison. For cold is the only quality by which hemlock juice

works and kills.

QUESTION VI. WHICH IS THE FITTEST TIME FOR A MAN TO KNOW HIS WIFE?

YOUTHS, ZOPYRUS, OLYMPICHUS, SOCLARUS.

Some young students, that had not gone far in the learning of the

ancients, inveighed against Epicurus for bringing in, in his Svmposium,

an impertinent and unseemly discourse, about what time was best to lie

with a woman; for an old man at supper in the company of youths to talk

of such a subject, and dispute whether after or before supper was the

most convenient time, argued him to be a very loose and debauched man.

To this some said that Xenophon, after his entertainment was ended, sent

all his guests home on horseback, to lie with their wives. But Zopyrus

the physician, a man very well read in Epicurus, said, that they had not

duly weighed that piece; for he did not propose that question first,

and then discuss that matter on purpose; but after supper he desired the

young men to take a walk, and he then discoursed on it, that he might

persuade them to continence, and to abate their desires and restrain

their appetites; showing them that it was very dangerous at all times,

but especially after they had been eating or making merry. But suppose

he had proposed this as the chief topic for discourse, doth it never

become a philosopher to inquire which is the convenient and proper time?

Ought we not to time it well, and direct our embrace by reason? Or may

such discourse be otherwise allowed, and must they be thought unseemly

problems to be proposed at table? Indeed I am of another mind. It is

true, I should blame a philosopher that in the middle of the day, in the

schools, before all sorts of men, should discourse of such a subject;

but over a glass of wine between friends and acquaintance, when it

is necessary to propose something beside dull, serious discourse, why

should it be a fault to hear or speak anything that may inform our

judgments or direct our practice in such matters? And I protest I had

rather that Zeno had inserted his loose topics in some merry discourses

and agreeable table-talk, than in such a grave, serious piece as his

politics.

The youth, startled at this free declaration, sat silent; and the rest

of the company desired Zopyrus to deliver Epicurus's sentiment. He said:

The particulars I cannot remember; but I believe he feared the violent

agitations of such exercises, because the bodies employed in them are

so violently disturbed. For it is certain that wine is a very great

disturber, and puts the body out of its usual temper; and therefore,

when thus disquieted, if quiet and sleep do not compose it but other

agitations seize it, it is likely that those parts which knit and join

the members may be loosened, and the whole frame be as it were unsettled

from its foundation and overthrown. For then likewise the seed cannot

freely pass, but is confusedly and forcibly thrown out, because the

liquor hath filled the vessels of the body, and stopped its way.

Therefore, says Epicurus, we must use those sports when the body is at

quiet, when the meat hath been thoroughly digested, carried about and

applied to several parts of the body, so that we begin to want a fresh

supply of food. To this of Epicurus we might join an argument taken from

physic. At day-time, while our digestion is performing, we are not so

lusty nor eager to embrace; and presently after supper to endeavor it

is dangerous, for the crudity of the stomach, the food being yet

undigested, may be disorderly motion upon this crudity, and so the

mischief be double. Olympicus, continuing the discourse, said: I very

much like what Clinias the Pythagorean delivers. For the story goes

that, being asked when a man should lie with a woman, he replied,

when he hath a mind to receive the greatest mischief that he can. For

Zopyrus's discourse seems rational, and other times as well as those he

mentions have their peculiar inconveniences. And therefore,--as Thales

the philosopher, to free himself from the pressing solicitations of his

mother who advised him to marry, said at first, 'tis not yet time; and

when, now he was growing old, she repeated her admonition, replied, nor

is it now time,--so it is best for every man to have the same mind in

relation to those sports of Venus; when he goes to bed, let him say,

'tis not yet time; and when he rises, 'tis not now time.

What you say, Olympicus, said Soclarus interposing, befits wrestlers

indeed; it smells, methinks, of their meals of flesh and casks of wine,

but is not suitable to the resent company, for there are some young

married men here,

Whose duty 'tis to follow Venus' sports.

Nay, we ourselves seem to have some relation to Venus still, when in our

hymns to the gods we pray thus to her,

Fair Venus, keep off feeble age.

But waiving this, let us inquire (if you think fit) whether Epicurus

does well, when contrary to all right and equity he separates Venus and

the Night, though Menander, a man well skilled in love matters, says

that she likes her company better than that of any of the gods. For, in

my opinion, night is a very convenient veil, spread over those that give

themselves to that kind of pleasure; for it is not fit that day should

be the time, lest modesty should be banished from our eyes, effeminacy

grow bold, and such vigorous impressions on our memories be left, as

might still possess us with the same fancies and raise new inclinations.

For the sight (according to Plato) receives a more vigorous impression

than any other bodily organ, and joining with the imagination, that lies

near it, works presently upon the soul, and ever causes fresh desires by

those images of pleasure which it brings. But the night, hiding many and

the most furious of the actions, quiets and lulls nature, and doth not

suffer it to be carried to intemperance by the eye. But besides this,

how absurd is it, that a man returning from an entertainment merry

perhaps and jocund, crowned and perfumed, should cover himself up, turn

his back to his wife, and go to sleep; and then at day-time, in the

midst of his business, send for her out of her apartment to serve his

pleasure or in the morning, as a cock treads his hens. No, sir the

evening is the end of our labor, and the morning the beginning. Bacchus

the Loosener and Terpsichore and Thalia preside over the former; and the

latter raiseth us up betimes to attend on Minerva the Work-mistress,

and Mercury the merchandiser. And therefore songs, dances, and

epithalamiums, merry-meetings, with balls and feasts, and sounds of

pipes and flutes, are the entertainment of the one; but in the other,

nothing but the noise of hammers and anvils, the scratching of saws,

the city cries, citations to court or to attend this or that prince and

magistrate are heard.

Then all the sports of pleasure disappear,

Then Venus, then gay youth removes:

No Thyrsus then which Bacchus loves;

But all is clouded and o'erspread with care.

Besides, Homer makes not one of the heroes lie with his wife or mistress

in the day-time, but only Paris, who, having shamefully fled from the

battle, sneaked into the embraces of his wife; intimating that such

lasciviousness by day did not befit the sober temper of a man, but the

mad lust of an adulterer. But, moreover, the body will not (as Epicurus

fancies) be injured more after supper than at any other time, unless a

man be drunk or overcharged,--for in those cases, no doubt, it is very

dangerous and hurtful. But if a man is only raised and cheered, not

overpowered by liquor, if his body is pliable, his mind agreeing, and

then he sports, he need not fear any disturbance from the load he

has within him; he need not fear catching cold, or too great a

transportation of atoms, which Epicurus makes the cause of all the

ensuing harm. For if he lies quiet he will quickly fill again, and new

spirits will supply the vessels that are emptied.

But this is to be especially taken care of, that, the body being then

in a ferment and disturbed, no cares of the soul, no business about

necessary affairs, no labor, should distract and seize it, lest they

should corrupt and sour its humors, Nature not having had time enough

for settling what has been disturbed. For, sir, all men have not the

command of that happy ease and tranquillity which Epicurus's philosophy

procured him; for many great incumbrances seize almost upon every one

every day, or at least some disquiets; and it is not safe to trust the

body with any of these, when it is in such a condition and disturbance,

presently after the fury and heat of the embrace is over. Let, according

to his opinion, the happy and immortal deity sit at ease and never mind

us; but if we regard the laws of our country, we must not dare to enter

into the temple and offer sacrifice, if but a little before we have done

any such thing. It is fit therefore to let night and sleep intervene,

and after there is a sufficient space of time past between, to rise

as it were pure and new, and (as Democritus was wont to say) "with new

thoughts upon the new day."

QUESTION VII. WHY NEW WINE DOTH NOT INEBRIATE AS SOON AS OTHER.

PLUTARCH, HIS FATHER, HAGIAS, ARISTAENETUS, AND OTHER YOUTH.

At Athens on the eleventh day of February (thence called [Greek omitted]

THE BARREL-OPENING), they began to taste their new wine; and in old

times (as it appears), before they drank, they offered some to the gods,

and prayed that that cordial liquor might prove good and wholesome. By

us Thebans the month is named [Greek omitted], and it is our custom upon

the sixth day to sacrifice to our good Genius and then taste our new

wine, after the zephyr has done blowing; for that wind makes wine

ferment more than any other, and the liquor that can bear this

fermentation is of a strong body and will keep well. My father

offered the usual sacrifice, and when after supper the young men, my

fellow-students, commended the wine, he started this question: Why

does not new wine inebriate as soon as other? This seemed a paradox and

incredible to most of us; but Hagias said, that luscious things were

cloying and would presently satiate, and therefore few could drink

enough to make them drunk; for when once the thirst is allayed, the

appetite would be quickly palled by that unpleasant liquor; for that a

luscious is different from a sweet taste, even the poet intimates, when

he says,

With luscious wine, and with sweet milk and cheese.

("Odyssey, xx. 69.)

Wine at first is sweet; afterward, as it grows old, it ferments and

begins to be pricked a little; then it gets a sweet taste.

Aristaenetus the Nicaean said, that he remembered he had read somewhere

that sweet things mixed with wine make it less heady, and that some

physicians prescribe to one that hath drunk freely, before he goes to

bed, a crust of bread dipped in honey. And therefore, if sweet mixtures

weaken strong wine, it is reasonable that wine should not be heady till

it hath lost its sweetness.

We admired the acuteness of the young philosophers, and were well

pleased to see them propose something out of the common road and give us

their own sentiments on this matter. Now the common and obvious reason

is the heaviness of new wine,--which (as Aristotle says) violently

presseth the stomach,--or the abundance of airy and watery parts that

lie in it; the former of which, as soon as they are pressed, fly out;

and the watery parts are naturally fit to weaken the spirituous liquor.

Now, when it grows old, the juice is improved, and though by the

separation of the watery parts it loses in quantity, it gets in

strength.

QUESTION VIII. WHY DO THOSE THAT ARE STARK DRUNK SEEM NOT SO MUCH

DEBAUCHED AS THOSE THAT ARE BUT HALF FOXED?

PLUTARCH, HIS FATHER.

Well then, said my father, since we have fallen upon Aristotle, I will

endeavor to propose something of my own concerning those that are

half drunk; for, in my mind, though he was a very acute man, he is not

accurate enough in such matters. They usually say, I think, that a sober

man's understanding apprehends things right and judges well; the sense

of one quite drunk is weak and enfeebled; but of him that is half drunk

the fancy is vigorous and the understanding weakened, and therefore,

following their own fancies, they judge, but judge ill. But pray, sirs,

what is your opinion in these matters?

This reason, I replied, would satisfy me upon a private disquisition;

but if you will have my own sentiments, let us first consider, whether

this difference doth not proceed from the different temper of the body.

For of those that are only half drunk, the mind alone is disturbed, but

the body not being quite overwhelmed is yet able to obey its motions;

but when it is too much oppressed and the wine has overpowered it,

it betrays and frustrates the motions of the mind, for men in such a

condition never go so far as action. But those that are half drunk,

having a body serviceable to the absurd motions of the mind, are rather

to be thought to have greater ability to comply with those they have,

than to have worse inclinations than the others. Now if, proceeding on

another principle, we consider the strength of the wine itself, nothing

hinders but that this may be different and changeable, according to the

quantity that is drunk. As fire, when moderate, hardens a piece of clay,

but if very strong, makes it brittle and crumble into pieces; and the

heat of the spring fires our blood with fevers but as the summer comes

on, the disease usually abates; what hinders then but that the mind,

being naturally raised by the power of the wine, when it is come to a

pitch, should by pouring on more be weakened again and its force abated?

Thus hellebore, before it purges, disturbs the body; but if too small a

dose be given, disturbs only and purges not at all; and some taking too

little of an opiate are more restless than before; and some taking too

much sleep well. Besides, it is probable that this disturbance into

which those that are half drunk are put, when it comes to a pitch, leads

to that decay. For a great quantity being taken inflames the body and

consumes the frenzy of the mind; as a mournful song and melancholy

music at a funeral raises grief at first and forces tears, but as it

continues, by little and little it takes away all dismal apprehensions

and consumes our sorrows. Thus wine, after it hath heated and disturbed,

calms the mind again and quiets the frenzy; and when men are dead drunk,

their passions are at rest.

QUESTION IX. WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THE SAYING: DRINK EITHER FIVE OR

THREE, BUT NOT FOUR?

ARISTO, PLUTARCH, PLUTARCH'S FATHER.

When I had said these things Aristo, as his habit was, cried out: A

return has been decreed in banquets to a very popular and just standard,

which, because it was driven away by unseasonable temperance as if

by the act of a tyrant, has long remained in exile. For just as those

trained in the canons of the lyre declare the sesquialter proportion

produces the symphony diapente, the double proportion the diapason, the

sesquiterte the diatessaron, the slowest of all, so the specialists

in Bacchic harmonies have detected three accords between wine and

water--Diapente, Diatrion, Diatessaron. For so they speak and sing,

"drink five or three, but not four." For five have the sesquialter

proportion, three cups of water being mixed in two of wine; three, the

double proportion, two being mixed with one; four, the sesquiterce,

three cups of water to one of wine, which is the epitrite proportion

for those exercising their minds in the council-chamber or frowning over

dialectics, when changes of speeches are expected,--a sober and mild

mixture. But in regard to those proportions of two to one, that mixture

gives the strength by which we are confused and made half drunk,

"Exciting the chords of the soul never moved before." For it does not

admit of sobriety, nor does it induce the senselessness of pure wine.

The most harmonious is the proportion of two to three, provoking sleep,

generating the forgetfulness of cares, and like that cornfield of

Hesiod, "which mildly pacifieth children and heals injuries." It

composes in us the harsh and irregular motions of the soul and secures

deep peace for it. Against these sayings of Aristo no one had anything

to offer in reply, since it was quite evident he was jesting. I

suggested to him to take a cup and treat it as a lyre, tuning it to the

harmony and order he praised. At the same time a slave came offering him

pure wine. But he refused it, saying with a laugh that he was discussing

logical not organic music. To what had been said before my father added

that Jove seemed to have taken, according to the ancients, two

nurses, Ite and Adrastea; Juno one, Euboea; Apollo also two, Truth and

Corythalea; but Bacchus several, because he needed several measures of

water to make him manageable, trained, milder, and more prudent.

QUESTION X. WHY FLESH STINKS SOONER WHEN EXPOSED TO THE MOON, THAN TO

THE SUN.

EUTHYDEMUS, SATYRUS.

Euthydemus of Sunium gave us at an entertainment a very large boar. The

guests wondering at the bigness of the beast, he said that he had one

a great deal larger, but in the carriage the moon had made it stink; he

could not imagine how this should happen, for it was probable that the

sun, being much hotter than the moon, should make it stink sooner.

But, said Satyrus, this is not so strange as the common practice of

the hunters; for, when they send a boar or a doe to a city some miles

distant, they drive a brazen nail into it to keep it from stinking.

After supper Euthydemus bringing the question into play again, Moschio

the physician said, that putrefaction was a colliquation of the flesh,

and that everything that putrefied grew moister than before, and that

all heat, if gentle, did stir the humors, though not force them out, but

if strong, dry the flesh; and that from these considerations an answer

to the question might be easily deduced. For the moon gently warming

makes the body moist; but the sun by his violent beams dries rather, and

draws all moisture from them. Thus Archilochus spoke like a naturalist,

I hope hot Sirius's beams will many drain,

And Homer more plainly concerning Hector, over whose body Apollo spread

a thick cloud,

Lest the hot sun should scorch his naked limbs.

(Iliad, xxiii, 190.)

Now the moon's rays are weaker; for, as Ion says,

They do not ripen well the clustered grapes.

When he had done, I said: The rest of the discourse I like very well,

but I cannot consent when you ascribe this effect to the strength and

degree of heat, and chiefly in the hot seasons; for in winter every one

knows that the sun warms little, yet in summer it putrefies most. Now

the contrary should happen, if the gentleness of the heat were the cause

of putrefaction. And besides, the hotter the season is, so much the

sooner meat stinks; and therefore this effect is not to be ascribed to

the want of heat in the moon, but to some particular proper quality in

her beams. For heat is not different only by degrees; but in fires there

are some proper qualities very much unlike one another, as a thousand

obvious instances will prove. Goldsmiths heat their gold in chaff fires;

physicians use fires of vine-twigs in their distillations; and tamarisk

is the best fuel for a glass-house. Olive-boughs in a chimney warm very

well, but hurt other baths: they spoil the plastering, and weaken the

foundation; and therefore the most skilful of the public officers forbid

those that rent the baths to burn olive-tree wood, or throw darnel seed

into the fire, because the fumes of it dizzy and bring the headache to

those that bathe. Therefore it is no wonder that the moon differs in her

qualities from the sun; and that the sun should shed some drying, and

the moon some dissolving, influence upon flesh. And upon this account it

is that nurses are very cautious of exposing their infants to the beams

of the moon; for they being full of moisture, as green plants, are

easily wrested and distorted. And everybody knows that those that sleep

abroad under the beams of the moon are not easily waked, but seem stupid

and senseless; for the moisture that the moon sheds upon them oppresses

their faculty and disables their bodies. Besides, it is commonly said,

that women brought to bed when the moon is a fortnight old, have easy

labors; and for this reason I believe that Diana, which was the same

with the moon, was called the goddess of childbirth. And Timotheus

appositely says,

By the blue heaven that wheels the stars,

And by the moon that eases women's pains.

Even in inanimate bodies the power of the moon is very evident. For

trees that are cut in the full of the moon carpenters refuse, as being

soft, and, by reason of their moistness, subject to corruption; and

in its wane farmers usually thresh their wheat, that being dry it may

better endure the flail; for the corn in the full of the moon is moist,

and commonly bruised in threshing. Besides, they say dough will be

leavened sooner in the full, for then, though the leaven is scarce

proportioned to the meal, yet it rarefies and leavens the whole lump.

Now when flesh putrefies, the combining spirit is only changed into a

moist consistence, and the parts of the body separate and dissolve. And

this is evident in the very air itself, for when the moon is full, most

dew falls; and this Alcman the poet intimates, when he somewhere calls

dew the air's and moon's daughter, saying,

See how the daughter of the Moon and Air

Does nourish all things.

Thus a thousand instances do prove that the light of the moon is moist,

and carries with it a softening and corrupting quality. Now the brazen

nail that is driven through the flesh, if, as they say, it keeps the

flesh from putrefying, doth it by an astringent quality proper to the

brass. The rust of brass physicians use in astringent medicines, and

they say those that dig brass ore have been cured of a rheum in their

eyes, and that the hair upon their eyelids hath grown again; for the

particles rising from the ore, being insensibly applied to the eyes,

stops the rheum and dries up the humor, and upon this account, perhaps;

Homer calls brass [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted], and Aristotle

says, that wounds made by a brazen dart or a brazen sword are less

painful and sooner cured than those that are made of iron weapons,

because brass hath something medicinal in itself, which in the very

instant is applied to the wound. Now it is manifest that astringents

are contrary to putrefying, and healing to corrupting qualities. Some

perhaps may say, that the nail being driven through draws all the

moisture to itself, for the humor still flows to the part that is hurt;

and therefore it is said that by the nail there always appears some

speck and tumor; and therefore it is rational that the other parts

should remain sound, when all the corruption gathers about that.

BOOK IV.

Polybius, my Sossius Senecio, advised Scipio Africanus never to

return from the Forum, where he was conversant about the affairs of

the city, before he had gained one new friend. Where I suppose the

word friend is not to be taken too nicely, to signify a lasting and

unchangeable acquaintance; but, as it vulgarly means, a well-wisher, and

as Dicearchus takes it, when he says that we should endeavor to make

all men well-wishers, but only good men friends. For friendship is to

be acquired by time and virtue; but good-will is produced by a familiar

intercourse, or by mirth and trifling amongst civil and genteel

men, especially if opportunity assists their natural inclinations to

good-nature. But consider whether this advice may not be accommodated

to an entertainment as well as the Forum; so that we should not break up

the meeting before we had gained one of the company to be a well-wisher

and a friend. Other occasions draw men into the Forum, but men of sense

come to an entertainment as well to get new friends as to make their old

ones merry; indeed, to carry away anything else is sordid and uncivil,

but to depart with one friend more than we had is pleasing and

commendable. And so, on the contrary, he that doth not aim at this

renders the meeting useless and unpleasant to himself, and departs at

last, having been a partaker of an entertainment with his belly but not

with his mind. For he that makes one at a feast doth not come only to

enjoy the meat and drink, but likewise the discourse, mirth, and genteel

humor which ends at last in friendship and good-will. The wrestlers,

that they may hold fast and lock better, use dust; and so wine mixed

with discourse is of extraordinary use to make us hold fast of, and

fasten upon, a friend. For wine tempered with discourse carries gentle

and kind affections out of the body into the mind; otherwise, it is

scattered through the limbs, and serves only to swell and disturb. Thus

as a marble, by cooling red hot iron, takes away its softness and makes

it hard, fit to be wrought and receive impression; thus discourse at

an entertainment doth not permit the men that are engaged to become

altogether liquid by the wine, but confines and makes their jocund and

obliging tempers very fit to receive an impression from the seal of

friendship if dexterously applied.

QUESTION I. WHETHER DIFFERENT SORTS OF FOOD, OR ONE SINGLE DISH FED UPON

AT ONCE, IS MORE EASILY DIGESTED.

PHILO, PLUTARCH, MARCION.

The first question of my fourth decade of Table Discourses shall be

concerning different sorts of food eaten at one meal. When we came to

Hyampolis at the feast called Elaphebolia, Philo the physician gave us

a very sumptuous entertainment; and seeing a boy who came with Philinus

feeding upon dry bread and calling for nothing else, he cried out, O

Hercules, well I see the proverb is verified,

They fought midst stones, but could not take up one,

and presently went out to fetch him some agreeable food. He stayed some

time, and at last brought them dried figs and cheese; upon which I

said: It is usually seen that those that provide costly and superfluous

dainties neglect, or are not well furnished with, useful and necessary

things. I protest, said Philo, I did not mind that Philinus designs to

breed us a young Sosastrus, who (they say) never all his lifetime drank

or ate anything beside milk, although it is probable that it was some

change in his constitution that made him use this sort of diet; but our

Chiron here,--quite contrary to the old one that bred Achilles from his

very birth,--feeding his son with unbloody food, gives people reason

to suspect that like a grasshopper he keeps him on dew and air. Indeed,

said Philinus, I did not know that we were to meet with a supper of a

hundred beasts, such as Aristomenes made for his friends; otherwise

I had come with some poor and wholesome food about me, as a specific

against such costly and unwholesome entertainments. For I have often

heard that simple diet is not only more easily provided, but likewise

more easily digested, than such variety. At this Marcion said to Philo:

Philinus hath spoiled your whole provision by deterring guests from

eating; but, if you desire it, I will be surety for you, that such

variety is more easily digested than simple food, so that without fear

or distrust they may feed heartily. Philo desired him to do so.

When after supper we begged Philinus to discover what he had to urge

against variety of food, he thus began: I am not the author of this

opinion, but our friend Philo here is ever now and then telling us,

first, that wild beasts, feeding on one sort only and simple diet, are

much more healthy than men are; and that those which are kept in pens

are much more subject to diseases and crudities, by reason of the

prepared variety we usually give them. Secondly, no physician is so

daring, so venturous at new experiments, as to give a feverish patient

different sorts of food at once. No, simple food, and without sauce, as

more easy to be digested, is the only diet they allow. Now food must be

wrought on and altered by our natural powers; in dyeing, cloth of the

most simple color takes the tincture soonest; the most inodorous oil is

soonest by perfumes changed into an essence; and simple diet is soonest

changed, and soonest yields to the digesting power. For many and

different qualities, having some contrariety, when they meet disagree

and corrupt one another; as in a city, a mixed rout are not easily

reduced into one body, nor brought to follow the same concerns; for each

works according to its own nature, and is very hardly brought to

side with another's quality. Now this is evident in wine; mixed wine

inebriates very soon, and drunkenness is much like a crudity rising

from undigested wine; and therefore the drinkers hate mixed liquors, and

those that do mix them do it privately, as afraid to have their design

upon the company discovered. Every change is disturbing and injurious,

and therefore musicians are very careful how they strike many strings at

once; though the mixture and variety of the notes would be the only harm

that would follow. This I dare say, that belief and assent can be

sooner procured by disagreeing arguments, than concoction by various and

different qualities. But lest I should seem jocose, waiving this, I will

return to Philo's observations again. We have often heard him declare

that it is the quality that makes meat hard to be digested; that to mix

many things together is hurtful, and begets unnatural qualities; and

that every man should take that which by experience he finds most

agreeable to his temper.

Now if nothing is by its own nature hard to be digested, but it is

the quantity that disturbs and corrupts, I think we have still greater

reason to forbear that variety with which Philo's cook, as it were in

opposition to his master's practice, would draw us on to surfeits and

diseases. For by the different sorts of food and new ways of dressing,

he still keeps up the unwearied appetite, and leads it from one dish to

another, till tasting of everything we take more than is sufficient and

enough; as Hypsipyle's foster-son,