A Belly Full of Frogs

Mind and Body: The Anatomy of Melancholy

It is natural, at this time of year, with a fire burning and snow through the night and Saturnine skies, to turn to Burton for solace and delight. I love him for his style, for the poetry of his lists (in lists he is second to none, not Joyce, not Rabelais), for his erudite tirades and his common sense. But these are all eccentricities compared to the mind he brings to his great subject, the madness of melancholy.

from[Part. I, Sect.3, Memb. I, Subs. 1 & 2]

“Parrhasius, a painter of Athens, amongst those Olynthian captives Philip of Macedon brought home to sell, bought one very old man; and when he had him at Athens, put him to extreme torture and torment, the better by his example to express the pains and passions of his Prometheus, whom he was then about to paint. I need not be so barbarous, inhumane, curious, or cruel, for this purpose to torture any poor melancholy man; their symptoms are plain, obvious and familiar, there needs no such accurate observation or far-fetcht object, they delineate themselves, they voluntarily bewray themselves, they are too frequent in all places, I meet them still as I go, they cannot conceal it, their grievances are too well known, I need not seek far to describe them.”

Symptoms or Signs in the Mind

“So that I think I may truly conclude, they [melancholics] are not always sad and fearful,
but usually so, and that ‘without a cause; although not all alike,’ (sayeth Altomarus), ‘yet all likely fear, some with an extraordinary and mighty fear,’ Aretaeus. ‘Many fear death, and yet, in a contrary humour, make away themselves.’ Some are afraid that heaven will fall on their heads: some afraid they are damned, or shall be. ‘They are troubled with scruples of Conscience, distrusting God’s mercies, think they shall go certainly to hell, the Devil will have them, & make great lamentation,’ Jason Pratensis. Fear of Devils, death, that they shall be sick of some such or such disease, ready to tremble at every object, they shall die themselves forthwith, or that some of their friends or near allies are certainly dead; imminent danger, loss, disgrace, still torment others, &c. that they are all glass, and therefore they will suffer no man to come near them; that they are all cork, as light as feathers; others as heavy as lead; some are afraid their heads will fall off their shoulders, that they have frogs in their bellies, &c. Montanus speaks of one ‘that durst not walk alone from home, for fear he should swoon, or die.’ A second ‘fears every man he meets will rob him, quarrel with him, or kill him.’ A third dares not venture to walk alone, for fear he should meet the Devil, a thief, be sick, fears all old women as witches, & every black dog or cat he sees he suspecteth to be a Devil, every person comes near him is maleficiated, every creature, all intend to hurt him, seek his ruin. Another dares not go over a bridge, come near a pool, rock, steep hill, lie in a chamber where cross beams are, for fear he be tempted hang, drown, or precipitate himself. If he be in a silent auditory, as at a sermon, he is afraid he shall speak aloud at unawares, some thing undecent, unfit to be said….
“Hence it proceeds many times that they are weary of their lives, and feral thoughts to offer violence to their persons come into their minds; being bored with life is a common symptom, their days pass wearily by, they are soon tired with all things; they will now tarry, now be gone; now in bed they will rise, now up, then go to bed; now pleased, then again displeased; now they like, by and by dislike all, weary of all; now they desire to live, and now to die, saith Aurelianus, but most part they hate life; discontent, disquieted, perplexed, upon every light or no occasion, object; often tempted, I say, to make away themselves: they cannot die, they will not live: they complain, weep, lament, and think they lead a most miserable life; never was any man so bad, or so before, every poor man they see is most fortunate in respect of them, every beggar that comes to the door is happier than they are, they could be contented to change lives with them,, especially if they be alone, idle, & parted from their ordinary company, molested, displeased, or provoked, grief, fear, agony, discontent, wearisomeness, laziness, suspicion, or some such passion, forcibly seizeth on them. Yet by and by, when they come in company again which they like, or be pleased, as Octavius Horatianus observes, they condemn their former mislike, and are well pleased to live. And so they continue, till with some fresh discontent they be molested again, and then they are weary of their lives, weary of all, they will die, and show rather a necessity to live than a desire.”

This is from Subs.1, Symptoms, or Signs of Melancholy in the Body:

“Hippocrates, in his book On Insanity and Melancholy, reckons up these signs, that they are ‘lean, withered, hollow-eyed, look old, wrinkled, harsh, much troubled with wind, and a griping in their bellies, or belly-ache, belch often, dry bellies and hard, dejected looks, flaggy beards, singing of the ears, vertigo, lightheaded, little or no sleep, & that interrupt, terrible and fearful dreams,’—–Sister Anne, what dreams these be that confound and appall me! The same symptoms are repeated by Melanelius (in his book of Melancholy, collected out of Galen, Ruffus, Aetius,)… ‘ continual, sharp, & stinking belchings, as if their meat in their stomack were putrefied, or that they had eaten fish, dry bellies, absurd and interrupt dreams, & many phantastical visions about their eyes, vertiginous, apt to tremble, and prone to Venery.’…. ‘headache and a binding heaviness’ for a principle token, ‘much leaping of wind about the skin, as well as stutting, or tripping in speech, &c., hollow eyes, gross veins, & broad lips.’ To some too, if they be far gone, mimical gestures are too familiar, laughing, grinning, fleering, murmuring, talking to themselves, with strange mouths and faces, inarticulate voices, exclamations, &c., And although they be commonly lean, hirsute, uncheerful in countenance, withered, and not so pleasant to behold, by reason of those continual fears, griefs, and vexations, dull, heavy, lazy, restless, unapt to go about any business: yet their memories are most part good, they have happy wits, and excellent apprehensions.”