The new Penguin edition of Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy as a birthday present.
Yet thus much I will say of myself, and that I hope without all suspicion of pride, or self-conceit, I have lived a silent, sedentary, solitary, private life, for myself and for the Muses, in the University as long almost as Xenocrates in Athens, almost until old age, to learn wisdom as he did, penned up most part in my study. I had a great desire (not able to attain to a superficial skill in any), to have some smattering in all, which Plato commends, out of him, Lipsius approves, and furthers, as fit to be imprinted in all curious wits, not to be a slave of one science, or dwell altogether in one subject, as most do, but to rove abroad, a boy with a hundred skills, to have an oar in every man's boat, to taste of every dish and sip of every cup, which saith Montaigne, was well performed by Aristotle and his learned countrymen Adrian Turnebus. This roving humour (though not with like success) I have ever had, and like a ranging spaniel, that barks at every bird he sees, leaving his game, I have followed all, saving that which I should, and may justly complain, and truly, he who's everywhere is nowhere, which Gesner did in modesty, that I have read many books, but to little purpose, for want of good method, I have confusedly tumbled over diverse authors in our Libraries, with small profit for want of art, order, memory, judgement. I never travelled but in Map or Card, in which my unconfined thoughts have freely expatiated, as having ever been especially delighted with the study of Cosmography. I am not poor, I am not rich, I have little, I want nothing: all my treasure is in Minerva's tower. Greater preferment as I could never get, so am I not in debt for it, I have a competency (praise be to God) from my noble and munificent Patrons, though I still live a Collegiate student, as Democritus in his garden, and lead a monastic life, a theatre to myself, sequestered from those tumults and troubles of the world, and as if placed on a watch-tower, as Heinsius said, in some high place above you all, like the Stoic sage, seeing all ages, past and present, as if in a single vision, I hear and see what is done abroad, how others run, ride, turmoil, and macerate themselves in court and country, far from those wrangling Lawsuits: I laugh at all, only secure, lest my suit go amiss, my ships perish, corn and cattle miscarry, trade decay, I have no wife nor children good or bad to provide for. A mere spectator of other men's fortunes and adventures, and how they act their parts, which methinks are diversely presented unto me, as from a common theatre or scene.
I hear new news every day, and those ordinary rumours of war, plagues, fires, inundations, thefts, murders, massacres, meteors, comets, spectrums, prodigies, apparitions, of towns taken, cities besieged in France, Germany, Turkey, Persia, Poland etc., daily musters and preparations and suchlike, which these tempestuous times afford, battles fought, so many men slain, monomachies, shipwrecks, piracies, and sea-fights, peace, leagues, stratagems, and fresh alarms. A vast confusion of vows, wishes, actions, edicts, petitions, lawsuits, pleas, laws, proclamations, complaints, grievances are daily brought to our ears. New books every day, pamphlets, corantoes, stories, whole catalogues of volumes of all sorts, new paradoxes, opinions, schisms, heresies, controversies in philosophy, religion etc.. Now come tidings of weddings, masquings, mummeries, entertainments, jubilees, embassies, tilts and tournaments, trophies, triumphs, revels, sports, plays: then again, as in a new shifted scene, treasons cheating tricks, robberies, enormous villainies in all kinds, funerals, burials, death of Princes, new discoveries, expeditions; now comical, then tragical matters. Today we hear of new Lords and officers created, tomorrow of some great men deposed, and then again of fresh honours conferred; one is let loose, another imprisoned; one purchaseth, another breaketh: he thrives, his neighbour turns bankrupt; now plenty, then again dearth and famine; one runs, another rides, wrangles, laughs, weeps etc.. Thus I daily hear, and suchlike, both private and public news, amidst the gallantry and misery of the world; jollity, pride, perplexities and cares, simplicity and villainy; subtlety, knavery, candour and integrity, mutually mixed and offering themselves, I rub on as my own private person, as I have still lived, so I now continue, in the same condition as before, left to a solitary life, and mine own domestic discontents: saving that sometimes, lest I should like, as Diogenes went into the city, and Democritus to the haven to see fashions, I did for my recreation now and then walk abroad, look into the world, and could not choose but make some little observation, not so much as an acute observer as a simple reciter, not as they did to scoff or laugh at all, but with a mixed passion.
