PukeOnAPlate

Rahan. Episode Sixty-Seven. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Andre Cheret. The Bird that runs. Horrified, the son of Crao froze when he saw the head on the ground. Because even in those wild times, it was rare for “Those-who-walk-upright” to behead each other! Horror gave way to astonishment when the face came to life. Go on your way, hunter. Gahoa must atone for his faults! Buried, up to his chin, the man must have suffered. But he was not complaining. Rahan will take Gahoa from the earth trap! Page Two. While the knife dug and dug, Gahoa protested. Stop, “Hair of Fire”! You are violating the custom of the Clan! Stop! But the son of Crao did not rest until the victim of torture was freed! Mine will turn their anger against you! Rahan hates seeing “those-who-walk-standing-up” suffer! But what fault did Gahoa commit to deserve such cruel torture? Gahoa was hungry. Very hungry. He ate a sacred egg! It was right for the clan to punish him! But Gahoa would have been freed by sunset! My brothers are fair and loyal! But their anger will be great when they know that you have violated our custom! Run away from here, “Firehair”! Flee our territory! Page Three. And Gahoa himself fled into the thickets, admonishing Rahan who was left to be perplexed. Did Rahan do something wrong? No! Rahan is right! Soon after, the son of wild ages, wandered here and there looking for food, when. Oh! Are these the “Sacred Eggs” that Gahoa spoke about?! The eggs lay in a hollow in the sand, and resembled stones. But they were indeed huge eggs, as big as “fruits of wood.” Eggs like he had never seen! Rahan was holding out his hand when a loud cackle came from behind him. Oh! The strange birds! If they shout like that it means the eggs belong to them! The son of wild ages had never met ostriches before. The silhouette of these birds amazed him. Crao sometimes spoke of "The Running Bird"! Page Four. As he approached, the panicked ostriches scampered away on their long legs, their necks stiff like bamboo. Ha-ha-ha! That is right! These birds do not fly. They run! Then began a merry pursuit. But Rahan means you no harm! He just wants to see you up close. To touch your plumage! Amused, Rahan picked up the pace. His fingers reached out to grip a plumed tail. And. Oh! Rahan begs your pardon, “Bird who runs! A splendid feather, thick and silky, remained in his hand! The ostriches were already far away. The son of Crao returned to the eggs, which a large reptile was contemplating! Rahan discovered the eggs before you, “Boak”! They are his! Page Five. Rahan had always hated snakes. Like this one, that raised its threatening head. Do you hear “Boak”?! Rahan will not let you eat his eggs! The branch whipped him with such violence that his flesh burst! Ra-ha-ha! He recovered heavily, breaking an egg whose contents spilled out. And Rahan exclaimed that the yellow was bigger than his fist! Just one egg could satisfy the hunger of a hunter! Rahan does not believe these eggs are "Sacred". But they will be very precious to him! Cries of men arose in the distance and the son of Crao, grieving more for his "Find" than for himself. Hid the two eggs under a layer of clay. Gahoa has undoubtedly found his own. They are approaching. Page Six. Indeed, Gahoa was accompanied by hunters who searched the thickets. But Rahan, who knew the art of hiding, was not discovered. They could come back. Rahan will leave his eggs in their hiding place! As night fell, he lit a fire by which he intended to watch. But fatigue got the better of him and he did not wake up until dawn. He observed the still warm ashes and. The eggs? Cracked under the effect of the heat, the clay mass revealed the eggs. Which rang curiously under the point of the knife. Rahan remained immobile. Although he expected to find a clear, sticky liquid. He discovered under the thin “skin-of-stone”, another white and firm egg. Page Seven. His delight grew even more when he noticed that he could cut egg slices! Therefore, the “clay” burned in the fire, has this wonderful power! Hum, Rahan has never had an egg this good! He would like to know if “clay-earth” also makes meat or fish better! The son of Crao, shortly after, was lying in wait at the edge of a stream. Trout were swimming in the clear water. Their movements were lively and precise. If a raft had a tail like these fish, Rahan could drive it wherever he wanted! Rahan never missed an opportunity to observe nature. And always took advantage of his observations. But, in the meantime, he spied a superb trout. Page Eight. His hand plunged with incredible suddenness. His fingers grabbed the fish, just behind the gills. Ra-ha-ha! Shortly after, this fish was wrapped in clay and placed on the heated fire. Rahan just has to wait! Playing with the long and soft ostrich feather, the son of Crao observed the clay which slowly cracked, when. You will not escape us “Hair of fire”! By rescuing Gahoa before his time, you challenged us! The hunters who launched themselves were not armed, but numerous. And not only ado you challenge the clan, but you have outraged a "Running Bird"! And you ate a sacred egg! Indignant, the chief pointed to the large feather and the remains of the shell. Page Nine. Then, intrigued, he leaned towards the fire. But what demon are you to eat earth! Rahan does not eat the earth. But what he is cooking inside! With a blow of his knife, Rahan broke the baked earthenware mold. A delicious smell escaped. What? What? The astonishment of these men did not diminish their anger. You know things that our clan does not know “Hair of fire”! But that won't spare you the punishment you deserve! May our law be respected, brothers! Let “Fire Hair” meditate on his faults until the next return of the sun! Ten men rushed forward, which the son of Crao tried to resist. Ra-ha-ha! Page Ten. Although unequal, it was a fair and honest fight. The hunters showed firmness, but not hatred. And Rahan was finally knocked to the ground. His wrists were tied. You are stupid hunters! Rahan hopes you will understand it one day! Other men were already digging a hole, with sticks in their hands. Rahan will suffer the same punishment as Gahoa! Indeed, the son of Crao was pushed into this hole, which was filled again. And if Fear consumes you, you can always beg for the clemency of the clan! Ha-ha-ha! “Hair of Fire” is a prisoner of the earth. Like his fish of the clay! The hunters disappeared, abandoning their captive to the burning fire of the sun. Page Eleven. It was impossible to free himself from the earth trap, and until the end of the day Rahan suffered from thirst. But, at dusk, a man crept towards him. It was Gahoa. Drink, “Fire hair”, drink! Gahoa cannot do anything else for you! And Gahoa disappeared into the darkness. A long night began for the prisoner. A night of anxiety. Rahan is at the mercy of the first beast that passes by! Wild animals were roaming in the forest and suddenly, a panther appeared in the moonlight. She approached. Rahan will join the territory of the shadows. When the feline raised her clawed paw, the son of fierce ages, dominating his fear, did not utter a word that could have excited the beast. He held his breath and closed his eyes. Page Twelve. When he reopened them, the beast, without doubt finding no interest in this lifeless "Thing", was walking away. Rahan has never been so scared! With the day, a new danger was presented, more unexpected but just as worrying. The Birds who run! Very interested, the ostriches surround him. The boldest one gave him a quick peck. Then another. These blows were painful but bearable. Fearful of being harassed with pecks which, sooner or later, would put out his eyes, the son of Crao howled. Ra-ha-ha! And the frightened ostriches scattered around. Had it not been for his situation, this frantic flight would have made Rahan smile. Page thirteen. The hunters reappeared shortly after. The punishment is over "Fire hair"! We will free you! If you wish, you can stay with us! With ardor, the men cleared the earth. Was “Hair of Fire” not afraid? Yes. Rahan was very scared! Our clan loves those who admit their fear! Rahan was pulled out of the hole when a howl of terror rang out. The “Nandouk”! The “Nandouk”! In an instant, it was panic. The hunters were running away from all sides, shouting a word that the son of Crao did not know. And he understood the cause of this fear. A fantastic animal was approaching. Twice as tall as a man, this monstrous bird, like the ostriches, seemed incapable of flight. Its legs were massive, its neck thick and its beak enormous. Page Fourteen. Hoping that this monster would flee like the "Running Birds", Rahan uttered his cry. Back Nandouk! Ra-ha-ha! But the bird, far from fleeing, charged! The son of Crao, his hands still hampered, did not have time to dodge! Ah! A peck of incredible violence threw him to the ground! And the rest was terrifying. The Nandouk jumped around Rahan who was writhing desperately on the ground to avoid the pecks, any one of which could have dis-embowelled him! Ten times this monstrous beak plunged towards him. And he managed to avoid it ten times! Rahan is doomed if he does not manage to get up! Page Fifteen. Between two attacks he managed to stand up. Fleeing was his only chance to survive! Ra-ha-ha! Rahan never imagined that he would one day run away. From A bird! His restrained hands unbalanced his running and the "Nandouk" was already on his heels! A terrible blow to the back threw him to the ground again! Argh! He had an instinctive reaction and his freed hands broke his fall! The monster's blow had broken his Bonds. Ra-ha-ha! He immediately stood up and faced the "Nandouk" which was preparing a new attack. Clutching his faithful ivory knife gave him hope. Page Sixteen. But this hope immediately dissipated. He could not approach to strike. And he refused to throw the cutlass for fear of missing a vital organ and finding himself disarmed. Rahan knows how to triumph over you, “Nandouk”! The son of Crao suddenly rushed towards the forest, pursued by the giant bird. An instant later, he ducked into the branches where the monster could not follow him. But it remained on the lookout under the tree! And Rahan, who was making a strong lasso, did not want anything else. You are going to fly for the first time in your life, "Nandouk"! The bird, which observed the man with its cruel eyes, did not react even when the long loop sprung from the foliage. Page Seventeen. It slipped over her plumage, fell onto the ground, and was ready to snare her enormous legs. And Rahan plunged into the void! Ra-ha-ha! He was finishing tying the vine to a root when the hunters came running. You will no longer have to fear the “Nandouk” brothers! In fact, the monstrous bird was suspended by its legs, and it was now at the mercy of these men. Rahan achieved something that our hunters have wanted for ages! He deserves the “Feather of Bravery”! Plucking an ostrich feather from his loincloth, the chief offered it to the son of Crao. Would Rahan also have the right to eat the sacred eggs? Rahan will have this privilege! But not my brothers! Page Eighteen. Why this interdiction? Because the “Running Birds” are the main food of the clan. If we ate their eggs. There would be no more "little ones", therefore no more "Big ones" and therefore no more eggs! And we would experience famine! Rahan recognized the wisdom of this reasoning. He stayed for some time among these men who now cooked the flesh of the "Running Birds" in clay molds. But Rahan could not integrate into this clan. There was so much left for him to discover! And his knife, that morning, pointed out to him the immense lake. A lake whipped by the wind. A lake where it would be difficult to steer a skiff. And it was then that he thought of the lively trout. Of the trout, and their tails! Page Nineteen. The following days often found him on the lookout. He needed skins to make a sail. And under the amazed eyes of the hunters his boat slowly took shape. To those who cried for a miracle, the son of fierce ages always revealed his secrets. He spoke of trees carried away by the river, which had given him the idea of building platforms. Floating shapes. He spoke of the dead leaves sliding on the trees, which had inspired him with the idea of “skins-pushed by-the-speaking-wind.” Rahan's observations, as we have said, always found an application. So he designed what would be the “tail” of his raft! Page Twenty. And the day of farewells came. Our clan will not forget you “Hair of Fire”! And we want to make you an offering! Men approached, holding out eggs of the “running birds”! They were cooked in the “ground of Clay”! May they allow you to go far away! Very far! Rahan plunged his fork covered with skin into the water. And this “Rudder” was a marvel! The assembled skins swelled in the wind. The raft launched itself away from the shore. Maybe one day Rahan will return, brothers! The raft, docile, obeyed the combined forces of man and the wind! Towards which unknown land was he sailing? The son of fierce ages did not care, still amused as he was by the white escort of the seagulls. Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

Rahan. Episode Sixty-Six. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Andre Cheret. The men without heads. The son of Crao could not find wood supple enough to make a bow. So he thought of a blowgun, to kill one of these birds and satisfy his hunger. He had once discovered the effectiveness of this silent weapon. The bank covered with large dry reeds would provide him with one. These reeds had been pierced by insects. One of them escaped from the reed he cut. The beast that stings will find refuge elsewhere! Page Two. Before slipping a long thorn into his blowgun, he crawled towards the screaming birds. When he was within range he blew and. Almost screamed in astonishment. It was not the thorn that had sprung from the weapon, but a strange sound! Intrigued, he started again, and a new sound arose which lasted as long as he blew. To-e-i-ou! How can the “wind-of-cheeks” make music? Stuck in the orifice of the reed, the thorn will only allow a trickle of air to pass through. And Rahan Noticed that the sounds changed depending on whether he was blocking this or that hole! Delighted, he had fun modulating short sounds, then long ones that resembled complaints. This music is softer, prettier than that of the great horns of the hunters of the “two tooth”! Page Three. The son of Crao forgot his hunger. He forgot the birds. He even forgot his knife, which he had left stuck in the ground. This was why he found himself disarmed when three menacing beings burst out of the thicket! “Hair of Fire” will pay with his life for the suffering that his people have made us endure! The rough trio rushed towards Rahan. Who only had time to grab a solid vine. Rahan does not understand your words! But he will not let himself be killed without a fight! The vine whirled, lashing the faces. But Rahan, retreating, was soon cornered against a rock. Page Four. And suddenly, hit in the forehead by a stone, one of the men collapsed! Tock! The other two fled, terrified! "Hair of fire" has a magic weapon! Rahan looked up for the one who had come to his aid. But he saw nothing and heard nothing. However, this stone did not fly by itself! Oh! He perceived the rock, and saw similar stones on it. An explanation was born in his mind. The vine of Rahan whipped this rock. It was the vine, who grabbed the stone and threw it! Placing the loop of the line around a stone, he pulled violently. And. The projectile whirled away! Ra-ha-ha! Page Five. It is a happy day for Rahan! He has discovered the “Music-Reed” and the “Vine that throws Stones”! Attributing the discovery of the flute and the slingshot to the son of Crao would be very daring, but who knows? The man, a few steps away, came back to himself. “Hair-of-fire” is bad like all his people! He almost broke Gagna's skull! Rahan did not want to kill. He does not kill "Those Who Walk Upright"! But why did Gagna and his brothers attack him? They want revenge for having been treated like animals for so long! Rahan had no time to ask any further questions. Who are you, you who allowed us to catch up with this “Headless Man”? I am Rahan, the son of Crao! And Rahan does not understand why you are brutalizing Gagna! The hunters savagely prodded Gagna with their spears. Page Six. But they showed Rahan considerable respect. Rahan should have no pity for those who have no more brains than the "Four Hands"! Come with us to the village. You will be welcomed there like a brother! Rahan's gaze met Gagna's. There he detected despondency and fear. And he decided to follow these hunters who pushed their captive without care. Why do they call Gagna "The man without a Head"? Rahan wants to know! The group was crossing a vast clearing when a hammering sounded. A “Two Nose”! The rhinoceros that charged was a large male, one of those loners that hunters so feared. They scattered around screaming. Page Seven. And Gagna, taking advantage of this moment of panic, rushed towards the forest. May the “Two Nose” punish the bad men! Too busy looking for shelter, the hunters did not care about the fugitive. Look! "Fire-hair" has lost his mind! Look! The son of Crao rushed towards the pachyderm that had just stopped, looking for men with his tiny eyes. Attack, “Two-nose”! Attack Rahan! Rahan knew he could not defeat such a monster. But he had another purpose. To lure him towards the large pit he had just glimpsed. Attack! “Two-nose”! Would you be afraid of Rahan!? The rhinoceros swung its heavy head, observing the man gesticulating in front of him. Its formidable hoofs plowed the ground. Page Eight. And he charged the excited animal, which had only one desire left. To crush, to destroy this agile being who was fleeing him. This way, “Two Nose!” This way! The son of fierce ages made a sudden turn, imitated by the monster. The pit was only a hundred steps away. The hunters, hiding in the thickets, did not understand. Why had “Fire-hair” attracted the anger of “Two-Nose”? The pachyderm was no more than thirty steps from Rahan. Twenty steps. Fifteen steps. Ten steps. Ra-ha-ha-ha! In a fantastic bound, Rahan had just lept from the ground. Page Nine. He barely held on to the other edge of the pit, while the rhinoceros, on its dash, rushed headlong into the improvised trap! The clamor of the hunters greeted the reappearance of the son of Crao. “Fire Hair” has just proven that he is not a “Man without a Head”! Rahan deserves no special credit. The "Two-noses" are as stupid as they are powerful! And, backing up to gain momentum. Rahan re-crossed the wide pit from which the monster would never escape again. Tamud himself would not have had this idea to get rid of a “Two-nose”! Who is Tamud? Page Ten. Tamud is our sorcerer. He knows a hundred things that others do not! He foresees everything! Did Tamud predict that Gagna wouldl escape you? The men did not notice the irony of the son of Crao. Come, brother. Tamud will be happy to welcome a brave hunter! An important village soon appeared. The huts which stood on the banks of the river were high and solid. The Clan that lived there was visibly more evolved than many others. One thing immediately intrigued the son of fierce ages. An enclosure where several dozen men were kept. Enemies of your clan? The “Men without Heads” are not enemies, they are our slaves! Slaves! Rahan doesn't like hearing this word! Page Eleven. Rahan, shortly after, was presented to Tamud, who showed no admiration when the hunters recounted the exploit of "Hair-of-fire". Rahan was fleeing the "Two-nose" and he had the chance to jump this pit! It was neither cunning nor intelligence that guided him but fear! But we saw him provoke the "Two-tooth" and. What your eyes saw does not matter! All that matters is what Tamud thinks! Like many wizards Rahan had known, Tamud was jealous of his authority. Lock up Rahan with the “Headless Men”! The hunters who had witnessed Rahan's exploit hesitated. But others rushed forward. If Tamud is jealous of Rahan why does he not confront him himself!? Page Twelve. The wizard gave a scornful smile. Tamud, who knows how to create fire, who knows how to cut stones, who knows how to make bows and spears, does not lower himself to fight! A moment later, the son of Crao was pushed into the enclosure. Fearful men surrounded him. Are you a “Man without a head” too? Rahan was finally able to learn who these captives were. They all belonged to the swamp clan, a particularly primitive tribe that knew nothing, or almost nothing. We do not know, like the hunters of Tamud, how to make fire from stones. We do not know, like them, how to make weapons that kill from afar. We do not know anything! And that is why Tamud calls you "Headless Men"! And he takes advantage of the ignorance of these unfortunate men to make them his slaves! Page thirteen. Rahan further learned how Tamud forced his captives to build huts. How he treated them like animals to carry out the most arduous work. Some of us occasionally manage to escape the village. But hunters of Tamud almost always catch up with them! You will soon be free! Rahan promises you! He will prove that Tamud is merely a proud and stupid person! Strange things happened that night. There was, first of all, a curious music which rose from the enclosure. When the sorcerer, escorted by hunters entered there, Rahan blew into a bamboo reed. That! So what is this? Page Fourteen. Rahan thought Tamud knew everything? Does Tamud not know that you can make a bamboo sing? Displeased, The Sorcerer withdrew. He was meditating near the big fire when, a little later, some hunters saw him wavering. Ha! Who? Who hit Tamud? Can you not see? It was Rahan who struck Tamud! Supported by the shoulders of the headless men, the son of Crao jumped the enclosure. You lie! How could you have struck me, since you do not have a weapon! Therefore, Tamud does not know how to throw stones from a distance! With this!? Rahan placed a stone on the strip of skin, twirled his "Sling" and released the projectile. He shattered the earthen jar that he had aimed for! Page Fifteen. Tamud was not aware of this weapon? Clearly, there are a lot of things that Tamud does not know! But perhaps Tamud knows, like Rahan, “Crawling on water”? Mockingly, the son of Crao dove into the river. A moment later, he was moving in the water with magnificent ease. The moment of astonishment passed, and then the whole clan cheered him on. Why does Tamud not join Rahan? Does Tamud not know that “Those-who-walk-upright” can also crawl on water? Being ignorant of so many things, could Tamud be a “man without a head”? Kill this demon! Kill him! The wizard screamed in rage. But, as the hunters did not obey his orders, he brandished his own spear. Page Sixteen. This one did not reach Rahan, who had let himself sink. Rahan could flee! But he will not abandon those of the swamp! He returned to the shore to the ovations of the clan. But Tamud rushed towards him, brandishing a sharp flint. And you said that Tamud would not lower himself to fighting! There was not even a fight. The sorcerer, lifted from the ground, was thrown into the black waters! Ra-ha-ha! Agloo! But as he was about to drown, the son of the fierce ages dove to his aid. This was a generous gesture, which definitely won him the trust of the clan. “Hair-of-Fire” knows more things than Tamud! And he is more loyal than Tamud! Page Seventeen. No one opposed him when he opened the door of the enclosure to free the “Headless Men”. Grateful but fearful, they were going to flee. But he kept them there. Stay here, brothers! Rahan will teach you everything he knows! There will be no more difference between you and the hunters of Tamud! In the days that followed, the son of Crao revealed all his knowledge to these men. He taught a thousand things. He spoke of a hundred distant countries and a hundred peoples. Tamud-the-sorcerer, who had lost all authority over the clan, remained prostrate in his hut, meditating on revenge. Tamud will kill “Hair of Fire” this very night! That night, in fact, the sorcerer slipped towards the hut that had been attributed to Rahan. Page Eighteen. This one, plunged into a calm and deep sleep did not hear, and could not hear, as the deceiver approached. But Tamud heard the peaceful breathing of the one he was going to assassinate. The hunters will believe that the evil spirit has come to take the life of “Fire-hair!” A wicked smile creased Tamud's face. Stretched out on the palm litter Rahan was there, at his mercy! He raised his weapon. He took another step. And then, the son of Crao rolled onto his side, narrowly avoiding the terrible blow of the spear! Shouts arose, alerting the hunters! What is going on "Hair of Fire"? Why are you shouting like that? Page Nineteen. And Rahan appeared, throwing the Sorcerer out of the hut. Tamud the coward wanted to kill Rahan! You wanted to take away the life of the one who taught us so much! You are the one who's going to die, Tamud! No! No! Panicked, the sorcerer fled. And the son of fierce ages did not have time to intervene. A spear had stopped the coward! This deceiver could have disemboweled you, “Hair of fire”! Luckily you were not sleeping! If Rahan was sleeping! But Rahan guessed Tamud's bad feelings. He knew that Tamud would try to kill him while he slept. And Rahan had set a trap for him! Come and see. Page Twenty. This vine was stretched across the bottom of the door and tied to Rahan's wrist. Like this. Upon entering the hut, Talmud touched the vine and the shaking woke up Rahan! Oh! Please excuse me for not teaching you this trick yet! The body of the sorcerer was placed in the river at dawn. May peace now reign between our clan and that of the swamps! Thanks to you, there will be no more “headless men”! You will also remember that "Those-who-walk-upright" must not abuse their knowledge, but that they must share it with their brothers! The son of Crao stayed a long, very long time in this village. In fact, he only left when he was certain that all these men had nothing more to learn from Him! Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

Rahan. The son of the Ferocious ages. Episode Sixty Five. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Andre Cheret. The Infant Chief. The ground suddenly began to shake and the son of Crao instantly remembered the tragic night of the blue Mountain. The nearby volcano, he knew, would soon vomit its fiery entrails. Abandoning the half-dismembered "Two-horn" he set off in search of a cave. But will Rahan have time to find refuge! Oh! They would do well to imitate Rahan! A few arrow ranges away, hunters and their companions implored the spirits for clemency. They responded to every rumble of the ground with incantations. Page Two. May the good mountain spirits spare our clan! May good spirits appease the anger of the “Great Mountain!” Your pleas are in vain, brothers! “Those-who-walk-upright” must rely only on themselves! Run away while there is still time! Run away! Who are you? What allows you to give us orders? I am Rahan, the son of Crao! Rahan does not give orders, but advice! The man who had just emerged from a strange hut made of mammoth tusks was obviously the clan sorcerer. I have just consulted our chief! He affirms that the “Great Mountain” will calm down and. Your chief is stupid and Rahan is going to tell him so! Sacrilege! “Hair-of-fire” Violates the leader's secret abode! Energetically pushing the wizard aside, Rahan rushed into the hut. Page Three. And astonishment froze him in place. Under the large ivory dome, lying on thick, warm furs, he saw only a very young child. This little man has only seen the green leaf season once! Your chief is not here! Where is he? You just saw him! And those who set eyes on Atara must die! A leader who cannot stand on his feet yet!? Rahan has never seen or heard of such stupidity! “Fire Hair” Despises our revered leader! Kill him! Gahar commands you! The hunters were already rushing forward, brandishing their clubs. The son of Crao repelled the first assault, but his vivacity and strength, although exceptional, did not allow him to confront the pack victoriously. Ra-ha-ha! Page Four. He was out numbered, he was defeated, and mastered. Clubs were going to crush his skull when. Wait! If we deliver him alive to the "Grand-Mountain", like Ogoo-the-Profaner, we will attract the favor of good spirits to the clan! While Gahar-the-sorcerer grabbed his ivory knife, Rahan was firmly tied up Gahar is lying to you! No sacrifice will calm the "Great Mountain"! Some hunters dragged him away from the camp, towards the volcano whose sides were now rumbling dully. They left him there. Rahan was desperately trying to break his bonds when a voice spoke out. We will leave together for the territory of shadows! What? What? Page Five. The fiery slime of the “Grand-mountain” will burn our flesh and bones! A man was lying twenty steps away, also tied up. Who are you? I am Ogoo! Gahar decided that I had to die because I refused to obey the orders he said he had come from little Atara! Rahan does not understand. Ogoo recounted how Raykaa, the clan leader, had died two seasons earlier. But Gahar-the-sorcerer claimed that he still lived in the body of his son, little Atara! With this lie, Gahar imposes his wishes on the clan! No one other than he can approach Atara, who, he claims, relays his father's orders to him! It was because I opposed this deceiver that he demanded my death, claiming, of course, that it was Raukaa who demanded it through the mouth of his son! The rumblings grew louder. The eruption could happen at any moment! Page Six. Neither Ogoo nor Rahan will die! Rahan will untie your bonds! Getting close to Ogoo was difficult for the son of the ferocious ages. To get his wrists free, when the knots resisted, he sheared them with his teeth. Your turn Ogoo! Rid Rahan of these vines! Their hands free, the rest was childishly easy. He was rushing away from the "Gand-Mountain" when the fantastic explosion rang out. Ba-boom! The crest of the volcano was crowned with reddish clouds from which a terrifying geyser of fire and molten rock gushed. In a few seconds it was an inferno. The ground cracked, releasing jets of steam. Rocks rolled down the "Grand-mountain." Others rained down from the sky, from all sides. Page Seven. Yours finally understand that they have nothing to expect from good spirits! And Gahar is not the last! The whole clan fled in indescribable panic. And Atara!? Why didn't you save Atara!? Uh. Through the mouth of Atara, Raukaa told me that he did not want to flee the fire of the "Great Mountain"! As they rushed into the deserted camp. Despite the noise of the volcano, Rahan and Ogoo could hear cries. The coward! Gahar abandoned Atara to so he could flee faster! Go Ogoo, go. Join yours! Perhaps Rahan can save the little man! As the incandescent stones fell everywhere, Rahan rushed towards the sacred hut. The child was there. Frightened by the incessant rumbling and explosions of volcanic bombs. He only stopped crying when the strong hands of the son of Crao grabbed him. Page Eight. He had not gone a hundred steps when the hut collapsed, dislocated by a huge rock! Atara narrowly missed it! The anger of the Great Mountain redoubled. Here and there were worrying cracks that Rahan had to jump. He saw the clan taking refuge on a rock platform at the edge of a salient. Profanation! “Hair-of-Fire” has defiled Atara with his hands! Unaware of what the hunters' reactions would be, the son of Crao froze. Rahan told you that no sacrifice would appease the “Grand-mountain”! Gahar lied to you! Gahar deceived you by claiming that Raukaa-the-chief spoke to him through the mouth of Atara! Atara, like all little men, does not yet speak! Page Nine. And since Gahar and him alone! Had the privilege of seeing and touching Atara. Why did he not do anything to protect him!? Gahar is just a coward! To save his miserable life he did not hesitate to abandon the child he said he venerated! The hunters observed Rahan, then the sorcerer, then Rahan. But they did not flinch. Kill him! Kill him! Then, mad with Rage, Gahar descended the Rocks, rushing towards the son of fierce ages! The bone points of his formidable head smasher reflected the fire of his eyes. The “Grand Mountain” thundered even more loudly. The ground shook more fiercely. Rahan placed the child on the ground, to face the sorcerer who was coming towards him. Page Ten. He was unarmed but he knew how to parry the first blow. His hand flew towards his ivory knife, and slid into Gahar's belt. Rahan will not let you steal his life! Knife versus “Head breaker”. Rahan was ready for an unequal fight. When a shock, stronger than the others threw him off balance. Screaming with joy Gahar, rushed towards his opponent who was on the ground. Rahan reared up instinctively, avoiding the fatal blow. But the weapon clipped his wrist with incredible violence. And his cutlass fluttered far away! He was at the mercy of the sorcerer! But he suddenly faltered and the son of Crao felt the earth open beneath him! His hands grabbed at a root. Page Eleven. Argh! Clinging to this root he is alive to everything at once. Gahar, who disappeared into the crevasse and the child who fell there in turn! An extraordinary reflex made him grab one of the infant chief’s legs in mid-air! But now, his good hand was no longer of any help to him. And he would not find the strength in his injured hand to hold on for very long! By abandoning Atara, he could still save himself. But this thought did not even cross his mind. We will live Atara! Yours are coming! Despite the rumblings of the "Grand-Mountain" he heard the clamors of the hunters who were quickly approaching the crevasse. Ogoo was the first to look into it. “Hair of Fire” is alive! He has saved Atara once again! Bring us vines! Quickly! Quickly! Page Twelve. An instant later. Ra-ha-ha! Rahan shouted with joy, because what he had feared had not happened. His knife had not disappeared into the bowels of the earth! What is happening "Fire hair"? Gahar unmasked himself in front of my brothers! No one will cry for this coward! But our clan, now no longer has a sorcerer or leader! Rahan maliciously observed the hunters. One day, perhaps Atara will become head of the clan. But many seasons will pass before he becomes strong and brave like his father! Until that day, why would the clan not appoint as leader the one who first had the wisdom and courage to oppose Gahar the perfidious! The "Grand-Mountain" still thundered while Ogoo was being hailed. But the earth no longer shook and the clan was safe. Who would adopt Atara? The son of Crao, happy, took pleasure in watching the women happily arguing over he who had been "The Infant Chief". Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

Rahan. Episode Sixty Four. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Guy Zam. The eye that sees far. The torrent of lava had spread to the shore, releasing such strong heat that the fine sand had melted, itself flowing into the sea. And, the anger of the volcano was appeased. The sea had thrown up translucent rocks into the coves, which it had shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars. Then the waves, patiently, had worn away these shards, and had polished them to make sparkling pebbles! But all this had happened many centuries before the son of Crao discovered this shore. Page Two. If the son of Crao had recently fled a clan that meant him no harm, it was quite different this morning! The long, pointed spears struck closer and closer behind him. Oh! Rahan should have stayed in the forest! “Hair of Fire” Will not go any further! He is at our mercy! The fugitive, in fact, should have stopped at the edge of the cliff, which dominated the ocean. But why do you want to steal Rahan's life? What did he do to you? A few spears still whistled. The son of Crao, surrounded by these men of whom he knew nothing, had only one chance left to escape them. The jump into the void! Page Three. As the semi-circle of hunters closed, he did not hesitate any longer. It was a fantastic dive but Rahan had achieved even more dangerous ones! A clamor of stupefaction arose. “Hair of Fire” preferred to kill himself! He steals our fish, it is good that he is devoured by the fish! Fortunately, the water was deep. The son of Crao sank into it with the force of a rock spat out by the thundering mountain! And the amazement was at its height when he reappeared on the surface. The fact that he could “Crawl on water” was amazing to these men. Did they dream again? Death to the thief! The chief's savage order brought these hunters back to reality. Page Four. Rahan saw the spears coming at a crazy speed. They were falling straight towards him! He only had time. To let himself sink, narrowly escaping this deadly rain. They brushed against Rahan so closely that the hunters might have thought that they had hit him! And indeed. Arakan's prediction has finally come true brothers! We have killed the thief, "Hair-of-Fire"! Swimming near the cliff that had been hollowed out by the waves, the son of Crao could no longer be seen by the hunters. Oh! What a strange shore! At an arrow's distance, the cliff fell abruptly onto a large cove. A cove, whose sand sparkled, shimmered like a lake in the sunlight! Page Five. Oh! A few sharks were floating here and there but Rahan noticed that the fish were very rare. The bottom was lined with curious translucent pebbles, which in less clear water would have been invisible. The one that Rahan brought to the surface looked like a tear. The petrified tear of a gigantic monster! A “water stone”! Rahan has never seen such a beautiful stone! The huge drop of glass sparkled wonderfully. The “Stone-of-water” is more wonderful, more brilliant than the knife of Rahan. But the sharks were getting dangerously close and the son of Crao had to think about his own fate. With you "water stone", Rahan would not escape the "blue skins"! Page Six. Abandoning the "Thing" at the depths, he swam vigorously towards the cove that had so intrigued him. A moment later he approached the sparkling shore. It was covered with shards of glass of all sizes and shapes. Some were sharp like flint, but others were more like "water stone." Some were round like an eye, others round like an almond. And they all sparkled with a thousand lights. Are you once "Water Stones" that were broken on these rocks? Only the “blue-skins” could say that! The sharks retreated towards the open sea and suddenly the son of Crao screamed in astonishment. Oh! Page Seven. Looking through the transparent stone, a huge finger was revealed! When he moved his hand away, this finger became blurred and disappeared. While he meditated on this new mystery. Your prediction was right, Arakan! We chased a man with “Fire Hair” who was roaming in the forest and we killed him! Arakan the soothsayer turned towards the totem. Dahar is too sure of himself! The grand fish tells Arakan that this man is still alive! He will come back to steal our fish again! We do not know how to crawl on water. But if the “blue-skins” have not devoured “Fire-hair”. The great river will throw his corpse back on the shore. We will bring it back to you, Arakan! The son of Crao, however, went from discovery to discovery. Under the glass eye, everything became fantastic. The heart of flowers became like a crater. Page Eight. And the tiny ants turned into monsters! The flat tear shows Rahan what he would never have seen! The flat tear has wonderful power! Rahan must protect it! Bamboo had already allowed him countless discoveries. The first sheath of his cutlass. Javelins and three-headed arrows. Soft poles and light travois. And the oil torch. And some that he had forgotten! This time the bamboo became a case, into which he slipped the precious glass lens. And the bamboos will allow Rahan to leave this shore! He will flee the cliff clan, which kills for no reason! The great river will carry him to the other land. The other land was this distant island that could barely be seen on the horizon. Page Nine. Oh! What? What? Although he shook the case hard, the “Tear of Water” did not come out! And he noticed that it was stuck in the bamboo, just behind the narrow hole in the groove. Rahan will dislodge you rom there! More impatient, and irritated, the son of Crao turned the case over and hit the ground with it several times. Oh! Not only had the "Tear of Water" not moved, but a second shard of glass had become stuck in the end of the tube. Everything so far had been astonishing. But when Rahan brought the bamboo to his eye, the effect was prodigious! The landscape had suddenly closed in on him, encircling him as if to bury him! Page Ten. The distant island now seemed very close, although slightly blurry. The image suggested the creeks, the coconut trees, the huts of a village! “The eye that sees far”! Rahan has discovered “the eye that sees far”! In his enthusiasm, the son of Crao wanted to see everything. The birds on the crest of the hills, And that's how he saw the cliff clan. Leaving their village, the hunters went down the only track that led to the shore, to the cove where he was! The hunters have new spears! Without “the eye that sees far,” Rahan would have seen them too late! But they are still very far away and Rahan has time to set a trap for them! Page Eleven. However. If the great river has rejected "Firehair", we will find his corpse in the cove of the sun! The son of Crao was finishing his "Trap" when he heard those from the cliff. The great stump rose higher and higher. He was ready! Rahan will probably die! But he will not leave for the territory of shadows without fighting! Ra-ha-ha! When Dahar and his hunters appeared, rushing towards the creek, Rahan released the heavy stump! Brutally cut down, ten men collapsed. They were only momentarily out of combat, but the effect of surprise was decisive! Page Twelve. Are you a demon “Fire Hair”? You jump off the cliff without your body bursting! You avoid our spears and you escape the “Blue skins.” Only a demon can do that! So why were you lying in wait for us? Without knowing what we were looking for!? Rahan is not a demon! He is the son of Crao! Rahan has been watching for you for a long time, thanks to “The Eye That Sees Far”! But why are you tracking him? Because you have stolen our fish too often! Arakan-the-soothsayer has always told us that a man with fiery hair slips into the village at night to steal fish. Dahar and his brothers often kept watch to capture him. But in vain! We were beginning to think that Arakan was wrong when, this morning, we saw you! But why do you come and steal the fish that we have so much difficulty perching, you who know how to crawl on the water!? The son of Crao was devastated. Arakan is crazy! Rahan had never seen your village before seeing it in the far-seeing eye! Like this! Look for yourself. Page thirteen. Incredulous, Dahar brought the bamboo to his eye. At first he had an expression of wonder, but then his face suddenly tightened. Arakan! Dahar understands why he said that "hair-of-Fire" was not dead! Although the scene was imprecise, it was not misleading. All the way up in the deserted village, Arakan the soothsayer took the last fish drying in the sun! If "The Eye That Sees Far" tells the truth, Arakan will be punished! And you, “Fire Hair”, you will become our brother! Follow us! Arakan-the-soothsayer was in ecstasy in front of the totem when his own appeared. We are bringing back "Fire-hair" Arakan! Hum! Hum! Let this demon be slain immediately! He will be if Dahar does not find what he thinks he finds! The clan chief rushed towards the “Soothsayer’s” hut. Page Fourteen. He came out almost immediately. Look, brothers! And there are just as many under his mattress! For many moons, Arakan has been deceiving us! Let him be delivered to the “Blue Skins”! Do not do that! Arakan may have wanted to. Wanted what? To live for himself alone! This cheat does not deserve your pity! They were already dragging Arakan towards the cliff. The rare fish that wash up barely feed our clan! Arkan knew it! To deceive us, he imagined an elusive "Theif with hair of fire." He probably believed that this hair color did not exist, and that he could abuse our trust for a long time! But he, the soothsayer, did not know that a fiery-haired hunter would one day venture into our territory! Page Fifteen. Without "The Eye That Sees Far" his crime would never have been discovered! They barely heard the howl of terror of Arakan as he was thrown into the great river. This “Eye” is magnificent! “Hair-of-fire” should make more for our hunters! Rahan will try! In the days that followed, the son of Crao often returned to the "creek of the sun". He built a bamboo skiff there. And sought to make another “Eye that sees far.” But everything was an obstacle. The length of the cases. The shape of the shards of glass. Chance, which had revealed a marvelous secret to Rahan, was not repeated! And millennia would pass before man invented his telescope. Page Sixteen. And one morning, while the great river roared, the son of Crao admitted his failure Rahan does not know how to remake "The Eye That Sees Far"! Rahan did everything to understand. But there is too much mystery in this “Eye”! You have to believe Rahan, brothers! Believe me! But understand that Rahan is just a hunter like you! From the hostile hubbub that he raised, the son of Crao understood that his good faith was doubted. Rahan does not want to dominate his brothers with a magic item! Rahan only wants to be their friend! He can prove it by giving your chief the eye that sees far! Dahar took the bamboo with a trembling hand. Rahan is loyal! But how will he see now? With his simple eyes, like all hunters! Page Seventeen. And his eyes are still good enough to show him that the great river is carrying away his skiff! The bamboo raft sailed away on the waves. Stay with us, brother! We will share “The Eye That Sees Far”! No, Dahar! Rahan never takes root in a territory! He saw, on the distant island, the huts of another tribe! That is where he will go! This is where he will discover other mysteries! Goodbye Brothers! God or demon? The hunters of Dahar would not have been able to tell. The being who stood on the cliff looked so much like them! Ra-ha-ha! Everyone rushed forward when, repeating his incredible feat, he plunged into the great river. Page Eighteen. And they saw him, beating the "Blue-skins" in speed, climb onto the tiny bamboo skiff. Faster, “Blue-skins”! Faster! Rahan wants you to escort him to the other land, ha-ha-ha! Laughing in the spray, the son of Crao saluted Dahar and his clan who were watching him from the top of the great cliff. Was this a good or bad spirit Dahar? Neither brother! He was only a man! In “The Eye That sees Far” the image was dulled and distorted. But Dahar's tears were the cause. Because even in those fierce times, where it was necessary to kill in order to survive, “Those-who-walk-upright” were capable of emotion. Rahan. Episode Sixty Four. By Roger Lecureux. The eye that sees far. A Puke (TM) Comic. Rahan. Episode Sixty Four. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Guy Zam. The eye that sees far. The torrent of lava had spread to the shore, releasing such strong heat that the fine sand had melted, itself flowing into the sea. And, the anger of the volcano was appeased. The sea had thrown up translucent rocks into the coves, which it had shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars. Then the waves, patiently, had worn away these shards, and had polished them to make sparkling pebbles! But all this had happened many centuries before the son of Crao discovered this shore. Page Two. If the son of Crao had recently fled a clan that meant him no harm, it was quite different this morning! The long, pointed spears struck closer and closer behind him. Oh! Rahan should have stayed in the forest! “Hair of Fire” Will not go any further! He is at our mercy! The fugitive, in fact, should have stopped at the edge of the cliff, which dominated the ocean. But why do you want to steal Rahan's life? What did he do to you? A few spears still whistled. The son of Crao, surrounded by these men of whom he knew nothing, had only one chance left to escape them. The jump into the void! Page Three. As the semi-circle of hunters closed, he did not hesitate any longer. It was a fantastic dive but Rahan had achieved even more dangerous ones! A clamor of stupefaction arose. “Hair of Fire” preferred to kill himself! He steals our fish, it is good that he is devoured by the fish! Fortunately, the water was deep. The son of Crao sank into it with the force of a rock spat out by the thundering mountain! And the amazement was at its height when he reappeared on the surface. The fact that he could “Crawl on water” was amazing to these men. Did they dream again? Death to the thief! The chief's savage order brought these hunters back to reality. Page Four. Rahan saw the spears coming at a crazy speed. They were falling straight towards him! He only had time. To let himself sink, narrowly escaping this deadly rain. They brushed against Rahan so closely that the hunters might have thought that they had hit him! And indeed. Arakan's prediction has finally come true brothers! We have killed the thief, "Hair-of-Fire"! Swimming near the cliff that had been hollowed out by the waves, the son of Crao could no longer be seen by the hunters. Oh! What a strange shore! At an arrow's distance, the cliff fell abruptly onto a large cove. A cove, whose sand sparkled, shimmered like a lake in the sunlight! Page Five. Oh! A few sharks were floating here and there but Rahan noticed that the fish were very rare. The bottom was lined with curious translucent pebbles, which in less clear water would have been invisible. The one that Rahan brought to the surface looked like a tear. The petrified tear of a gigantic monster! A “water stone”! Rahan has never seen such a beautiful stone! The huge drop of glass sparkled wonderfully. The “Stone-of-water” is more wonderful, more brilliant than the knife of Rahan. But the sharks were getting dangerously close and the son of Crao had to think about his own fate. With you "water stone", Rahan would not escape the "blue skins"! Page Six. Abandoning the "Thing" at the depths, he swam vigorously towards the cove that had so intrigued him. A moment later he approached the sparkling shore. It was covered with shards of glass of all sizes and shapes. Some were sharp like flint, but others were more like "water stone." Some were round like an eye, others round like an almond. And they all sparkled with a thousand lights. Are you once "Water Stones" that were broken on these rocks? Only the “blue-skins” could say that! The sharks retreated towards the open sea and suddenly the son of Crao screamed in astonishment. Oh! Page Seven. Looking through the transparent stone, a huge finger was revealed! When he moved his hand away, this finger became blurred and disappeared. While he meditated on this new mystery. Your prediction was right, Arakan! We chased a man with “Fire Hair” who was roaming in the forest and we killed him! Arakan the soothsayer turned towards the totem. Dahar is too sure of himself! The grand fish tells Arakan that this man is still alive! He will come back to steal our fish again! We do not know how to crawl on water. But if the “blue-skins” have not devoured “Fire-hair”. The great river will throw his corpse back on the shore. We will bring it back to you, Arakan! The son of Crao, however, went from discovery to discovery. Under the glass eye, everything became fantastic. The heart of flowers became like a crater. Page Eight. And the tiny ants turned into monsters! The flat tear shows Rahan what he would never have seen! The flat tear has wonderful power! Rahan must protect it! Bamboo had already allowed him countless discoveries. The first sheath of his cutlass. Javelins and three-headed arrows. Soft poles and light travois. And the oil torch. And some that he had forgotten! This time the bamboo became a case, into which he slipped the precious glass lens. And the bamboos will allow Rahan to leave this shore! He will flee the cliff clan, which kills for no reason! The great river will carry him to the other land. The other land was this distant island that could barely be seen on the horizon. Page Nine. Oh! What? What? Although he shook the case hard, the “Tear of Water” did not come out! And he noticed that it was stuck in the bamboo, just behind the narrow hole in the groove. Rahan will dislodge you rom there! More impatient, and irritated, the son of Crao turned the case over and hit the ground with it several times. Oh! Not only had the "Tear of Water" not moved, but a second shard of glass had become stuck in the end of the tube. Everything so far had been astonishing. But when Rahan brought the bamboo to his eye, the effect was prodigious! The landscape had suddenly closed in on him, encircling him as if to bury him! Page Ten. The distant island now seemed very close, although slightly blurry. The image suggested the creeks, the coconut trees, the huts of a village! “The eye that sees far”! Rahan has discovered “the eye that sees far”! In his enthusiasm, the son of Crao wanted to see everything. The birds on the crest of the hills, And that's how he saw the cliff clan. Leaving their village, the hunters went down the only track that led to the shore, to the cove where he was! The hunters have new spears! Without “the eye that sees far,” Rahan would have seen them too late! But they are still very far away and Rahan has time to set a trap for them! Page Eleven. However. If the great river has rejected "Firehair", we will find his corpse in the cove of the sun! The son of Crao was finishing his "Trap" when he heard those from the cliff. The great stump rose higher and higher. He was ready! Rahan will probably die! But he will not leave for the territory of shadows without fighting! Ra-ha-ha! When Dahar and his hunters appeared, rushing towards the creek, Rahan released the heavy stump! Brutally cut down, ten men collapsed. They were only momentarily out of combat, but the effect of surprise was decisive! Page Twelve. Are you a demon “Fire Hair”? You jump off the cliff without your body bursting! You avoid our spears and you escape the “Blue skins.” Only a demon can do that! So why were you lying in wait for us? Without knowing what we were looking for!? Rahan is not a demon! He is the son of Crao! Rahan has been watching for you for a long time, thanks to “The Eye That Sees Far”! But why are you tracking him? Because you have stolen our fish too often! Arakan-the-soothsayer has always told us that a man with fiery hair slips into the village at night to steal fish. Dahar and his brothers often kept watch to capture him. But in vain! We were beginning to think that Arakan was wrong when, this morning, we saw you! But why do you come and steal the fish that we have so much difficulty perching, you who know how to crawl on the water!? The son of Crao was devastated. Arakan is crazy! Rahan had never seen your village before seeing it in the far-seeing eye! Like this! Look for yourself. Page thirteen. Incredulous, Dahar brought the bamboo to his eye. At first he had an expression of wonder, but then his face suddenly tightened. Arakan! Dahar understands why he said that "hair-of-Fire" was not dead! Although the scene was imprecise, it was not misleading. All the way up in the deserted village, Arakan the soothsayer took the last fish drying in the sun! If "The Eye That Sees Far" tells the truth, Arakan will be punished! And you, “Fire Hair”, you will become our brother! Follow us! Arakan-the-soothsayer was in ecstasy in front of the totem when his own appeared. We are bringing back "Fire-hair" Arakan! Hum! Hum! Let this demon be slain immediately! He will be if Dahar does not find what he thinks he finds! The clan chief rushed towards the “Soothsayer’s” hut. Page Fourteen. He came out almost immediately. Look, brothers! And there are just as many under his mattress! For many moons, Arakan has been deceiving us! Let him be delivered to the “Blue Skins”! Do not do that! Arakan may have wanted to. Wanted what? To live for himself alone! This cheat does not deserve your pity! They were already dragging Arakan towards the cliff. The rare fish that wash up barely feed our clan! Arkan knew it! To deceive us, he imagined an elusive "Theif with hair of fire." He probably believed that this hair color did not exist, and that he could abuse our trust for a long time! But he, the soothsayer, did not know that a fiery-haired hunter would one day venture into our territory! Page Fifteen. Without "The Eye That Sees Far" his crime would never have been discovered! They barely heard the howl of terror of Arakan as he was thrown into the great river. This “Eye” is magnificent! “Hair-of-fire” should make more for our hunters! Rahan will try! In the days that followed, the son of Crao often returned to the "creek of the sun". He built a bamboo skiff there. And sought to make another “Eye that sees far.” But everything was an obstacle. The length of the cases. The shape of the shards of glass. Chance, which had revealed a marvelous secret to Rahan, was not repeated! And millennia would pass before man invented his telescope. Page Sixteen. And one morning, while the great river roared, the son of Crao admitted his failure Rahan does not know how to remake "The Eye That Sees Far"! Rahan did everything to understand. But there is too much mystery in this “Eye”! You have to believe Rahan, brothers! Believe me! But understand that Rahan is just a hunter like you! From the hostile hubbub that he raised, the son of Crao understood that his good faith was doubted. Rahan does not want to dominate his brothers with a magic item! Rahan only wants to be their friend! He can prove it by giving your chief the eye that sees far! Dahar took the bamboo with a trembling hand. Rahan is loyal! But how will he see now? With his simple eyes, like all hunters! Page Seventeen. And his eyes are still good enough to show him that the great river is carrying away his skiff! The bamboo raft sailed away on the waves. Stay with us, brother! We will share “The Eye That Sees Far”! No, Dahar! Rahan never takes root in a territory! He saw, on the distant island, the huts of another tribe! That is where he will go! This is where he will discover other mysteries! Goodbye Brothers! God or demon? The hunters of Dahar would not have been able to tell. The being who stood on the cliff looked so much like them! Ra-ha-ha! Everyone rushed forward when, repeating his incredible feat, he plunged into the great river. Page Eighteen. And they saw him, beating the "Blue-skins" in speed, climb onto the tiny bamboo skiff. Faster, “Blue-skins”! Faster! Rahan wants you to escort him to the other land, ha-ha-ha! Laughing in the spray, the son of Crao saluted Dahar and his clan who were watching him from the top of the great cliff. Was this a good or bad spirit Dahar? Neither brother! He was only a man! In “The Eye That sees Far” the image was dulled and distorted. But Dahar's tears were the cause. Because even in those fierce times, where it was necessary to kill in order to survive, “Those-who-walk-upright” were capable of emotion. Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

What happened on Epstien Island? We may never know. However, the Marquis de Sade gives us an illustration of the abuse of power, to help us where our imaginations may fail. On the twenty second of October, seventeen eighty-five, Donatien-Alphonse-Francois de Sade, for more than seven years a prisoner of the Royal dungeons, and since February of seventeen eighty-four confined in the Bastille, began the final revision of his first major work, which he entitled The 120 Days of Sodom. There are those who consider it his masterpiece; there can be no doubt that it is the foundation upon which the rest of his achievement reposes. If this was the first major work, it was also the decisive step: three years earlier Sade had written the Dialogue between a Priest and a Dying Man in which the ferocity of his atheism and the rigor of his vision were evident, but with The 120 Days he moved further, much further, into a realm of philosophic absolutism from which there could be no retreat. Sade was here declaring all-out war on the society that had judged and imprisoned him, and on that virtue which it preached as the ultimate good. If, up to this time, he had been drawn instinctively to the twin poles of pleasure and vice, now the full power of his intellect entered into the fray. Henceforth he would do all he could to “outrage the laws of both Nature and religion.” Sade was out to shock, as no writer had ever tried to shock his readers before in the history of literature. He was fully aware of what he was about. After describing his main characters and his plan of action in the opening pages of The 120 Days, the author warns: I advise the overmodest to lay my book aside at once if he would not be scandalized, for Tis already clear there’s not much of the chaste in our plan, and we dare hold ourselves answerable in advance that there’ll be still less in the execution. And now, friend-reader, you must prepare your heart and your mind for the most impure tale that has ever been told since our world began, a book the likes of which are met with neither amongst the ancients nor amongst us moderns. If Sade was cognizant of the importance of the work he was undertaking, he was also aware of the dangers of seizure to which such a manuscript was constantly subject, given the conditions and place of its composition. He therefore devised a method which, he thought, would at least minimize the chances of having the manuscript lost or taken from him. Using sheets of thin paper twelve centimeters wide, he pasted them together into a kind of scroll just over twelve meters long, which he thought would be relatively easy to conceal. From the twenty second of October on, he worked for twenty consecutive evenings, from seven till ten, at the end of which time he had covered one side of the scroll with a microscopic writing; he then continued on the other side, until he had completed the manuscript by the twenty-eighth of November. But all his precautions were in vain: when the Bastille was stormed, most of the manuscripts Sade had left behind were lost or destroyed, and neither the notes nor the roll itself ever came into the author’s hands again. It must have been especially to the scroll of The 120 Days that Sade was referring when he wrote to his steward, Gaufridy, in May, seventeen ninety, that its loss had caused him to shed “tears of blood”: There are moments when I am moved by a wish to join the Trappists, and I cannot say but what I may go off some fine day and vanish altogether from the scene. Never was I such a misanthrope as since I have returned into the midst of men; and if in their eyes I now have the look of a stranger, they may be very sure they produce the same effect upon me. I was not idle during my detention; consider, my dear lawyer, I had readied fifteen volumes for the printer; now that I am at large, hardly a quarter of those manuscripts remains to me. Through unpardonable thoughtlessness, Madame de Sade let some of them become lost, let others be seized; thirteen years of toil gone for naught! The bulk of those writings had remained behind in my room at the Bastille when, on the fourth of July, I was removed from there to Charenton; on the fourteenth the Bastille is stormed, overrun, and my manuscripts, six hundred books I owned, two thousand pounds worth of furniture, precious portraits, the lot is lacerated, burned, carried off, pillaged: a clean sweep, not a straw left: and all that owing to the sheer negligence of Madame de Sade. She had had ten whole days to retrieve my possessions; she could not but have known that the Bastille, which they had been cramming with guns, powder, soldiers, was being prepared either for an attack or for a defense. Why then did she not hasten to get my belongings out of harm’s way? My manuscripts? my manuscripts over whose loss I shed tears of blood! Other beds, tables, chests of drawers can be found, but ideas once gone are not found again. No, my friend, no, I shall never be able to figure to you my despair at their loss, for me it is irreparable. Justine, Juliette, Philosophy in the Bedroom, and La Nouvelle Justine all represent attempts by Sade to reconstitute, in one form or another, the elements he had expounded in The 120 Days of Sodom, which he assumed lost forever. But, though Sade would never know it, the precious roll had not been destroyed. It was found, in the same cell of the Bastille where Sade had been kept prisoner, by one Arnoux de Saint-Maximin, and thence came into the possession of the Villeneuve-Trans family, in whose care it remained for three generations. At the turn of the present century, it was sold to a German collector, and in 1904 it was published by the German psychiatrist, Doctor Iwan Bloch, under the pseudonym of Eugene Duhren. Bloch justified his publishing the work by its “scientific importance, to doctors, jurists, and anthropologists,” pointing out in his notes the “amazing analogies” between cases cited by Sade and those recorded a century later by Krafft-Ebing. Bloch’s text, however, as Lely notes, is replete with “thousands of errors” which hopelessly denature and distort it. After Bloch’s death, the manuscript remained in Germany until 1929, when Maurice Heine, at the behest of the Viscount Charles de, went to Berlin to acquire it. From 1931 to 1935, Heine’s masterful and authoritative text of the work appeared in three quarto volumes, in what must be considered the original edition of the work. This is what Heine had to say of The 120 Days: It is a document of singular value, as well as the first positive effort, aside from that of the father-confessors, to classify sexual anomalies. The man responsible for having undertaken this methodical observation, a century before Krafft-Ebing and Freud, fully deserves the honor bestowed upon him by scholars of having the gravest of these psychopathic conditions known by the term “sadism.” And Lely, on the 120 Days: Despite the reservations one has to make, The 120 Days contains some of the most admirable pages the Marquis de Sade ever wrote. The texture, the breadth, the sweep of the sentences, all seem more allied to his correspondence than to his other works. The Introduction, wherein we see deployed to full advantage the resources of his art, in its newest and most spontaneous form, is without doubt Sade’s masterpiece. There are other works more finished, of greater literary merit and with a philosophic content more developed, but Messrs. Heine and Lely are correct: The 120 Days of Sodom is the seminal work in all Sade’s writing. It is perhaps his masterpiece; at the very least, it is the cornerstone on which the massive edifice he constructed was founded. INTRODUCTION. The extensive wars wherewith Louis the fourteenth was burdened during his reign, while draining the State’s treasury and exhausting the substance of the people, none the less contained the secret that led to the prosperity of a swarm of those bloodsuckers who are always on the watch for public calamities, which, instead of appeasing, they promote or invent so as, precisely, to be able to profit from them the more advantageously. The end of this so very sublime reign was perhaps one of the periods in the history of the French Empire when one saw the emergence of the greatest number of these mysterious fortunes whose origins are as obscure as the lust and debauchery that accompany them. It was toward the close of this period, and not long before the Regent sought, by means of the famous tribunal which goes under the name of the Chambre de Justice, to flush this multitude of traffickers, that four of them conceived the idea for the singular revels whereof we are going to give an account. One must not suppose that it was exclusively the lowborn and vulgar sort which did this swindling; gentlemen of the highest note led the pack. The Duc de Blangis and his brother the Bishop of X, each of whom had thus wise amassed immense fortunes, are in themselves solid proof that, like the others, the nobility neglected no opportunities to take this road to wealth. These two illustrious figures, through their pleasures and business closely associated with the celebrated Durcet and the President de Curval, were the first to hit upon the debauch we propose to chronicle, and having communicated the scheme to their two friends, all four agreed to assume the major roles in these unusual orgies. For above six years these four libertines, kindred through their wealth and tastes, had thought to strengthen their ties by means of alliances in which debauchery had by far a heavier part than any of the other motives that ordinarily serve as a basis for such bonds. What they arranged was as follows: the Duc de Blangis, thrice a widower and sire of two daughters one wife had given him, having noticed that the President de Curval appeared interested in marrying the elder of these girls, despite the familiarities he knew perfectly well her father had indulged in with her, the Duc, I say, suddenly conceived the idea of a triple alliance. “You want Julie for your wife,” said he to Curval, “I give her to you unhesitatingly and put but one condition to the match: that you’ll not be jealous when, although your wife, she continues to show me the same complaisance she always has in the past; what is more, I’d have you lend your voice to mine in persuading our good Durcet to give me his daughter Constance, for whom, I must confess, I have developed roughly the same feelings you have formed for Julie.” “But,” said Curval, “you are surely aware that Durcet, just as libertine as you” “I know all that’s to be known,” the Duc rejoined. “In this age, and with our manner of thinking, is one halted by such things? Do you think I seek a wife in order to have a mistress? I want a wife that my whims may be served, I want her to veil, to cover an infinite number of little secret debauches the cloak of marriage wonderfully conceals. In a word, I want her for the reasons you want my daughter, do you fancy I am ignorant of your object and desires? We libertines wed women to hold slaves; as wives they are rendered more submissive than mistresses, and you know the value we set upon despotism in the joys we pursue.” It was at this point Durcet entered. His two friends related their conversation and, delighted by an overture which promptly induced him to avow the sentiments he too had conceived for Adelaide, the President’s daughter, Durcet accepted the Duc as his son-in-law, provided he might become Curval’s. The three marriages were speedily concluded, the dowries were immense, and the wedding contracts identical. No less culpable than his two colleagues, the President had admitted to Durcet, who betrayed no displeasure upon learning it, that he maintained a little clandestine commerce with his own daughter; the three fathers, each wishing not only to preserve his rights, but noticing here the possibility of extending them, commonly agreed that the three young ladies, bound to their husbands by goods and homes only, would not in body belong more to one than to any of them, and the severest punishments were prescribed for her who should take it into her head not to comply with any of the conditions whereunto she was subject. They were on the eve of realizing their plan when the Bishop of X, already close bound through pleasure shared with his brother’s two friends, proposed contributing a fourth element to the alliance should the other three gentlemen consent to his participation in the affair. This element, the Duc’s second daughter and hence the Bishop’s niece, was already more thoroughly his property than was generally imagined. He had effected connections with his sister-in-law and the two brothers knew beyond all shadow of doubt that the existence of this maiden, who was called Aline, was far more accurately to be ascribed to the Bishop than to the Duc; the former who, from the time she left the cradle, had taken the girl into his keeping, had not, as one may well suppose, stood idle as the years brought her charms to flower. And so, upon this head, he was his colleagues’ equal, and the article he offered to put on the market was in an equal degree damaged or degraded; but as Aline’s attractions and tender youth outshone even those of her three companions, she was unhesitatingly made a part of the bargain. As had the other three, the Bishop yielded her up, but retained the rights to her use; and so each of our four characters thus found himself husband to four wives. Thus there resulted an arrangement which, for the reader’s convenience, we shall recapitulate: The Duc, Julie’s father, became the husband of Constance, Durcet’s daughter; Durcet, Constance’s father, became the husband of Adelaide, the President’s daughter; The President, Adelaide’s father, became the husband of Julie, the Duc’s elder daughter; And the Bishop, Aline’s uncle and father, became the husband of the other three females by ceding this same Aline to his friends, the while retaining the same rights over her. It was at a superb estate of the Duc, situated in the Bourbonnais, that these happy matches were made, and I leave to the reader to fancy how they were consummated and in what orgies; obliged as we are to describe others, we shall forego the pleasure of picturing these. Upon their return to Paris, our four friends’ association became only the firmer; and as our next task is to make the reader familiar with them, before proceeding to individual and more searching developments, a few details of their lubricious arrangements will serve, it seems to me, to shed a preliminary light upon the character of these debauchees. The society had created a common fund, which each of its members took his turn administering for six months; the sums, allocated for nothing but expenses in the interests of pleasure, were vast. Their excessive wealth put the most unusual things within their reach, and the reader ought not to be surprised to hear that two million were annually disbursed to obtain good cheer and lust’s satisfaction. Four accomplished procuresses to recruit women, and a similar number of pimps to scout out men, had the sole duty to range both the capital and the provinces and bring back everything, in the one gender and in the other, that could best satisfy their sensuality’s demands. Four supper parties were held regularly every week in four different country houses located at four different extremities of Paris. At the first of these gatherings, the one exclusively given over to the pleasures of sodomy, only men were present; there would always be at hand sixteen young men, ranging in age from twenty to thirty, whose immense faculties permitted our four heroes, in feminine guise, to taste the most agreeable delights. The youths were selected solely upon the basis of the size of their member, and it almost became necessary that this superb limb be of such magnificence that it could never have penetrated any woman; this was an essential clause, and as naught was spared by way of expense, only very rarely would it fail to be fulfilled. But simultaneously to sample every pleasure, to these sixteen husbands was joined the same quantity of boys, much younger, whose purpose was to assume the office of women. These lads were from twelve to eighteen years old, and to be chosen for service each had to possess a freshness, a face, graces, charms, an air, an innocence, a candor which are far beyond what our brush could possibly paint. No woman was admitted to these masculine orgies, in the course of which everything of the lewdest invented in Sodom and Gomorrah was executed. At the second supper were girls of superior class who, upon these occasions forced to give up their proud ostentation and the customary insolence of their bearing, were constrained, in return for their hire, to abandon themselves to the most irregular caprices, and often even to the outrages our libertines were pleased to inflict upon them. Twelve of these girls would appear, and as Paris could not have furnished a fresh supply of them as often as would have been necessary, these evenings were interspersed with others at which were admitted, only in the same number as the well-bred ladies, women ranging from procuresses up through the class of officers’ wives. There are above four or five thousand women in Paris who belong to one or the other of the two latter classes and whom need or lust obliges to attend soirees of this kind; one has but to have good agents to find them, and our libertines, who were splendidly represented, would frequently come across miraculous specimens. But it was in vain one was honest or a decent woman, one had to submit to everything: our Lordships’ libertinage, of a variety that never brooks limits, would overwhelm with horrors and infamies whatever, whether by Nature or social convention, ought to have been exempt from such ordeals. Once one was there, one had to be ready for anything, and as our four villains had every taste that accompanies the lowest, most crapulous debauch, this fundamental acquiescence to their desires was not by any means a matter of inconsequence. The guests at the third supper were the vilest, foulest creatures that can possibly be met with. To him who has some acquaintance with debauchery’s extravagances, this refinement will appear wholly understandable; Tis most voluptuous to wallow, so to speak, in filth with persons of this category; these exercises offer the completest abandon, the most monstrous intemperance, the most total abasement, and these pleasures, compared with those tasted the evening before, or with the distinguished individuals in whose company we have tasted them, have a way of lending a sharp spice to earlier activities. At these third suppers, debauch being more thorough, nothing was omitted that might render it complex and piquant. A hundred whores would appear in the course of six hours, and only too often something less than the full hundred would leave the games. But there is nothing to be gained by hurrying our story or by broaching subjects which can only receive adequate treatment in the sequel. As for the fourth supper, it was reserved for young maids; only those between the ages of seven and fifteen were permitted. Their condition in life was of no importance, what counted was their looks: they had to be charming; as for their virginity, authentic evidence was required. Oh, incredible refinement of libertinage! It was not, assuredly, that they wished to pluck all those roses, and how indeed could they have done so? for those untouched flowers were always a score in number, and of our four libertines only two were capable of proceeding to the act, one of the remaining two, the financier, being absolutely incapable of an erection, and the Bishop being absolutely unable to take his pleasure save in a fashion which, yes, I agree, may dishonor a virgin but which, however, always leaves her perfectly intact. No matter; the twenty maidenheads had to be there, and those which were not impaired by our quartet of masters became, before their eyes, the prey of certain of their valets just as depraved as they, whom they kept constantly at beck and call for more than one reason. Apart from these four supper parties there was another, a secret and private one held every Friday, involving many fewer persons but surely costing a great deal more. The participants were restricted to four young and high-born damsels who, by means of strategy and money, had been abducted from their parents’ homes. Our libertines’ wives nearly always had a share in this debauch, and their extreme submissiveness, their docile attentions, their services made it more of a success each time. As for the genial atmosphere at these suppers, it goes without saying that even greater profusion than delicacy reigned there; not one of these meals cost less than ten thousand francs, and neighboring countries as well as all France were ransacked so that what was of the rarest and most exquisite might be assembled together. Fine and abundant wines and liqueurs were there, and even during the winter they had fruits of every season; in a word, one may be certain that the table of the world’s greatest monarch was not dressed with as much luxury nor served with equal magnificence. But now let us retrace our steps and do our best to portray one by one each of our four heroes, to describe each not in terms of the beautiful, not in a manner that would seduce or captivate the reader, but simply with the brush strokes of Nature which, despite all her disorder, is often sublime, indeed even when she is at her most depraved. For, and why not say so in passing, if crime lacks the kind of delicacy one finds in virtue, is not the former always more sublime, does it not unfailingly have a character of grandeur and sublimity which surpasses, and will always make it preferable to, the monotonous and lackluster charms of virtue? Will you protest the greater usefulness of this or of that, is it for us to scan Nature’s laws, ours to determine whether, vice being just as necessary to Nature as is virtue, she perhaps does not implant in us, in equal quantity, the penchant for one or the other, depending upon her respective needs? But let us proceed. The Duc de Blangis, at eighteen the master of an already colossal fortune which his later speculations much increased, experienced all the difficulties which descend like a cloud of locusts upon a rich and influential young man who need not deny himself anything; it almost always happens in such cases that the extent of one’s assets turns into that of one’s vices, and one stints oneself that much less the more one has the means to procure oneself everything. Had the Duc received a few elementary qualities from Nature, they might possibly have counterbalanced the dangers which beset him in his position, but this curious mother, who sometimes seems to collaborate with chance in order that the latter may favor every vice she gives to those certain beings of whom she expects attentions very different from those virtue supposes, and this because she has just as much need of the one as of the other, Nature, I say, in destining Blangis for immense wealth, had meticulously endowed him with every impulse, every inspiration required for its abuse. Together with a tenebrous and very evil mind, she had accorded him a heart of flint and an utterly criminal soul, and these were accompanied by the disorders in tastes and irregularity of whim whence were born the dreadful libertinage to which the Duc was in no common measure addicted. Born treacherous, harsh, imperious, barbaric, selfish, as lavish in the pursuit of pleasure as miserly when it were a question of useful spending, a liar, a gourmand, a drunk, a dastard, a sodomite, fond of incest, given to murdering, to arson, to theft, no, not a single virtue compensated that host of vices. Why, what am I saying! not only did he never so much as dream of a single virtue, he beheld them all with horror, and he was frequently heard to say that to be truly happy in this world a man ought not merely fling himself into every vice, but should never permit himself one virtue, and that it was not simply a matter of always doing evil, but also and above all of never doing good. “Oh, there are plenty of people,” the Duc used to observe, “who never misbehave save when passion spurs them to ill; later, the fire gone out of them, their now calm spirit peacefully returns to the path of virtue and, thus passing their life going from strife to error and from error to remorse, they end their days in such a way there is no telling just what roles they have enacted on earth. Such persons,” he would continue, “must surely be miserable: forever drifting, continually undecided, their entire life is spent detesting in the morning what they did the evening before. Certain to repent of the pleasures they taste, they take their delight in quaking, in such sort they become at once virtuous in crime and criminal in virtue. However,” our hero would add, “my more solid character is a stranger to these contradictions; I do my choosing without hesitation, and as I am always sure to find pleasure in the choice I make, never does regret arise to dull its charm. Firm in my principles because those I formed are sound and were formed very early, I always act in accordance with them; they have made me understand the emptiness and nullity of virtue; I hate virtue, and never will I be seen resorting to it. They have persuaded me that through vice alone is man capable of experiencing this moral and physical vibration which is the source of the most delicious voluptuousness; so I give myself over to vice. I was still very young when I learned to hold religion’s fantasies in contempt, being perfectly convinced that the existence of a creator is a revolting absurdity in which not even children continue to believe. I have no need to thwart my inclinations in order to flatter some god; these instincts were given me by Nature, and it would be to irritate her were I to resist them; if she gave me bad ones that is because they were necessary to her designs. I am in her hands but a machine which she runs as she likes, and not one of my crimes does not serve her: the more she urges me to commit them, the more of them she needs; I should be a fool to disobey her. Thus, nothing but the law stands in my way, but I defy the law, my gold and my prestige keep me well beyond reach of those vulgar instruments of repression which should be employed only upon the common sort.” If one were to raise the objection that, nevertheless, all men possess ideas of the just and the unjust which can only be the product of Nature, since these notions are found in every people and even amongst the uncivilized, the Duc would reply affirmatively, saying that yes, those ideas have never been anything if not relative, that the stronger has always considered exceedingly just what the weaker regarded as flagrantly unjust, and that it takes no more than the mere reversal of their positions for each to be able to change his way of thinking too; whence the Duc would conclude that nothing is really just but what makes for pleasure, and what is unjust is the cause of pain; that in taking a hundred louis from a man’s pocket, he was doing something very just for himself, although the victim of the robbery might have to regard the action with another eye; that all these notions therefore being very arbitrary, a fool he who would allow himself to become their thrall. It was by means of arguments in this kind the Duc used to justify his transgressions, and as he was a man of greatest possible wit, his arguments had a decisive ring. And so, modeling his conduct upon his philosophy, the Duc had, from his most tender youth, abandoned himself unrestrainedly to the most shameful extravagances, and to the most extraordinary ones. His father, having died young and, as I indicated, left him in control of a huge fortune, had however stipulated in his will that the young man’s mother should, while she lived, be allowed to enjoy a large share of this legacy. Such a condition was not long in displeasing Blangis: poison appearing to be the only way to avoid having to subscribe to this article, the knave straightway decided to make use of it. But this was the period when he was only making his first steps in a vicious career; not daring to act himself, he brought one of his sisters, with whom he was carrying on a criminal intrigue, to take charge of the execution, assuring her that if she were to succeed, he would see to it that she would be the beneficiary of that part of the fortune whereof death would deprive their mother. However, the young lady was horrified by this proposal, and the Duc, observing that this ill-confided secret was perhaps going to betray him, decided on the spot to extend his plans to include the sister he had hoped to have for an accomplice; he conducted both women to one of his properties whence the two unfortunate ones never returned. Nothing quite encourages as does one’s first unpunished crime. This hurdle once cleared, an open field seemed to beckon to the Duc. Immediately any person whomsoever showed opposition to his desires, poison was employed forthwith. From necessary murders he soon passed to those of pure pleasure; he was captivated by that regrettable folly which causes us to find delight in the sufferings of others; he noticed that a violent commotion inflicted upon any kind of an adversary is answered by a vibrant thrill in our own nervous system; the effect of this vibration, arousing the animal spirits which flow within these nerves’ concavities, obliges them to exert pressure on the erector nerves and to produce in accordance with this perturbation what is termed a lubricious sensation. Consequently, he set about committing thefts and murders in the name of debauchery and libertinage, just as someone else would be content, in order to inflame these same passions, to chase a whore or two. At the age of twenty-three, he and three of his companions in vice, whom he had indoctrinated with his philosophy, made up a party whose aim was to go out and stop a public coach on the highway, to rape the men among the travelers along with the women, to assassinate them afterward, to make off with their victims’ money, the conspirators certainly had no need of this, and to be back that same night, all three of them, at the Opera Ball in order to have a sound alibi. This crime took place, ah, yes: two charming maids were violated and massacred in their mother’s arms; to this was joined an endless list of other horrors, and no one dared suspect the Duc. Weary of the delightful wife his father had bestowed upon him before dying, the young Blangis wasted no time uniting her shade to his mother’s, to his sister’s, and to those of all his other victims. Why all this? To be able to marry a girl, wealthy, to be sure, but publicly dishonored and whom he knew full well was her brother’s mistress. The person in question was the mother of Aline, one of the figures in our novel we mentioned above. This second wife, soon sacrificed like the first, gave way to a third, who followed hard on the heels of the second. It was rumored abroad that the Duc’s huge construction was responsible for the undoing of all his wives, and as this gigantic tale corresponded in every point to its gigantic inspiration, the Duc let the opinion take root and veil the truth. That dreadful colossus did indeed make one think of a Hercules or a centaur: Blangis stood five feet eleven inches tall, had limbs of great strength and energy, powerful sinews, elastic nerves, in addition to that a proud and masculine visage, great dark eyes, handsome black eyelashes, an aquiline nose, fine teeth, a quality of health and exuberance, broad shoulders, a heavy chest but a well-proportioned figure withal, splendid hips, superb buttocks, the handsomest leg in the world, an iron temperament, the strength of a horse, the member of a veritable mule, wondrously hirsute, blessed with the ability to eject its sperm any number of times within a given day and at will, even at the age of fifty, which was his age at the time, a virtually constant erection in this member whose dimensions were an exact eight inches for circumference and twelve for length over-all, and there you have the portrait of the Duc de Blangis, drawn as accurately as if you’d wielded the pencil yourself. But if this masterpiece of Nature was violent in its desires, what was it like, Great God! When crowned by drunken voluptuousness? Twas a man no longer, Twas a raging tiger. Woe unto him who happened then to be serving its passions; frightful cries, atrocious blasphemies sprang from the Duc’s swollen breast, flames seemed to dart from his eyes, he foamed at the mouth, he whinnied like a stallion, you’d have taken him for the very god of lust. Whatever then was his manner of having his pleasure, his hands necessarily strayed, roamed continually, and he had been more than once seen to strangle a woman to death at the instant of his perfidious discharge. His presence of mind once restored, his frenzy was immediately replaced by the most complete indifference to the infamies wherewith he had just indulged himself, and of this indifference, of this kind of apathy, and further sparks of lechery would be born almost at once. In his youth, the Duc had been known to discharge as often as eighteen times a day, and that without appearing one jot more fatigued after the final than after the initial ejaculation. Seven or eight crises within the same interval still held no terrors for him, his half a century of years notwithstanding. For roughly twenty-five years he had accustomed himself to passive sodomy, and he withstood its assaults with the identical vigor that characterized his manner of delivering them actively when, the very next moment, it pleased him to exchange roles. He had once wagered he could sustain fifty-five attacks in a day, and so he had. Furnished, as we have pointed out, with prodigious strength, he needed only one hand to violate a girl, and he had proved it upon several occasions. One day he boasted he could squeeze the life out of a horse with his legs; he mounted the beast, it collapsed at the instant he had predicted. His prowess at the table outshone, if that is possible, what he demonstrated upon the bed. There’s no imagining what had come to be the quantity of the food he consumed. He regularly ate three meals a day, and they were all three exceedingly prolonged and exceedingly copious, and it was as nothing to him to toss down his usual ten bottles of Burgundy; he had drunk up to thirty, and needed but to be challenged and he would set out for the mark of fifty; but his intoxication taking on the tinge of his passions, and liqueurs or wines having heated his brain, he would wax furious, and they would be obliged to tie him down. And despite all that, would you believe it? a steadfast child might have hurled this giant into a panic; true indeed it is that the spirit often poorly corresponds with the fleshly sheath enveloping it: as soon as Blangis discovered he could no longer use his treachery or his deceit to make away with his enemy, he would become timid and cowardly, and the mere thought of even the mildest combat, but fought on equal terms, would have sent him fleeing to the ends of the earth. He had nevertheless, in keeping with custom, been in one or two campaigns, but had acquitted himself so disgracefully he had retired from the service at once. Justifying his turpitude with equal amounts of cleverness and effrontery, he loudly proclaimed that his poltroonery being nothing other than the desire to preserve himself, it were perfectly impossible for anyone in his right senses to condemn it for a fault. Keep in mind the identical moral traits; next, adapt them to an entity from the physical point of view infinitely inferior to the one we have just described; there you have the portrait of the Bishop of X, the Duc de Blangis’ brother. The same black soul, the same penchant for crime, the same contempt for religion, the same atheism, the same deception and cunning, a yet more supple and adroit mind, however, and more art in guiding his victims to their doom, but a slender figure, not heavy, no, a little thin body, wavering health, very delicate nerves, a greater fastidiousness in the pursuit of pleasure, mediocre prowess, a most ordinary member, even small, but deft, profoundly skilled in management, each time yielding so little that his incessantly inflamed imagination would render him capable of tasting delight quite as frequently as his brother; his sensations were of a remarkable acuteness, he would experience an irritation so prodigious he would often fall into a deep swoon upon discharging, and he almost always temporarily lost consciousness when doing so. He was forty-five, had delicate features, rather attractive eyes but a foul mouth and ugly teeth, a hairless pallid body, a small but well-shaped ass, and a prick five inches around and six in length. An idolater of active and passive sodomy, but eminently of the latter, he spent his life having himself buggered, and this pleasure, which never requires much expense of energy, was best suited to the modesty of his means. We will speak of his other tastes in good time. With what regards those of the table, he carried them nearly as far as the Duc, but went about the matter with somewhat more sensuality. Monseigneur, no less a criminal than his elder brother, possessed characteristics which had doubtless permitted him to match the celebrated feats of the hero we painted a moment ago; we will content ourselves with citing one of them, ’twill be enough to make the reader see of what such a man may be capable, and what he was prepared and disposed to do, having done the following: One of his friends, a man powerful and rich, had formerly had an intrigue with a young noblewoman who had borne him two children, a girl and a boy. He had, however, never been able to wed her, and the maiden had become another’s wife. The unlucky girl’s lover died while still young, but the owner howbeit of a tremendous fortune; having no kin to provide for, it occurred to him to bequeath all he had to the two ill-fated children his affair had produced. On his deathbed, he made the Bishop privy to his intentions and entrusted him with these two immense endowments: he divided the sum, put them in two purses, and gave them to the Bishop, confiding the two orphans’ education to this man of God and enlisting him to pass on to each what was to be his when they attained their majority. At the same time he enjoined the prelate to invest his wards’ funds, so that in the meantime they would double in size. He also affirmed that it was his design to leave his offsprings’ mother in eternal ignorance of what he was doing for them, and he absolutely insisted that none of this should ever be mentioned to her. These arrangements concluded, the dying man closed his eyes, and Monseigneur found himself master of about a million in banknotes, and of two children. The scoundrel was not long deliberating his next step: the dying man had spoken to no one but him, the mother was to know nothing, the children were only four or five years old. He circulated the intelligence that his friend, upon expiring, had left his fortune to the poor; the rascal acquired it the same day. But to ruin those wretched children did not suffice; furnished with authority by their father, the Bishop, who never committed one crime without instantly conceiving another, had the children removed from the remote pension in which they were being brought up, and placed them under the roof of certain people in his hire, from the outset having resolved soon to make them serve his perfidious lust. He waited until they were thirteen; the little boy was the first to arrive at that age: the Bishop put him to use, bent him to all his debauches, and as he was extremely pretty, sported with him for a week. But the little girl fared less well: she reached the prescribed age, but was very ugly, a fact which had no mitigating effect upon the good Bishop’s lubricious fury. His desires appeased, he feared lest these children, left alive, would someday discover something of the secret of their interests. Therefore, he conducted them to an estate belonging to his brother and, sure of recapturing, by means of a new crime, the sparks of lechery enjoyment had just caused him to lose, he immolated both of them to his ferocious passions, and accompanied their death with episodes so piquant and so cruel that his voluptuousness was reborn in the midst of the torments wherewith he beset them. The thing is, unhappily, only too well known: there is no libertine at least a little steeped in vice who is not aware of the great sway murder exerts over the senses, and how voluptuously it determines a discharge. And that is a general truth whereof it were well the reader be early advised before undertaking the perusal of a work which will surely attempt an ample development of this system. Henceforth at ease in the face of whatever might transpire, Monseigneur returned to Paris to enjoy the fruit of his misdeeds, and without the least qualms about having counteracted the intentions of a man who, in his present situation, was in no state to derive either pain or pleasure therefrom. The President de Curval was a pillar of society; almost sixty years of age, and worn by debauchery to a singular degree, he offered the eye not much more than a skeleton. He was tall, he was dry, thin, had two blue lusterless eyes, a livid and unwholesome mouth, a prominent chin, a long nose. Hairy as a satyr, flat-backed, with slack, drooping buttocks that rather resembled a pair of dirty rags flapping upon his upper thighs; the skin of those buttocks was, thanks to whip strokes, so deadened and toughened that you could seize up a handful and knead it without his feeling a thing. In the center of it all there was displayed, no need to spread those cheeks, an immense orifice whose enormous diameter, odor, and color bore a closer resemblance to the depths of a well-freighted privy than to an asshole; and, crowning touch to these allurements, there was numbered among this sodomizing pig’s little idiosyncrasies that of always leaving this particular part of himself in such a state of uncleanliness that one was at all times able to observe there a rim or pad a good two inches thick. Below a belly as wrinkled as it was livid and gummy, one perceived, within a forest of hairs, a tool which, in its erectile condition, might have been about eight inches long and seven around; but this condition had come to be most rare and to procure it a furious sequence of things was the necessary preliminary. Nevertheless, the event occurred at least two or three times each week, and upon these occasions the President would glide into every hole to be found, indiscriminately, although that of a young lad’s behind was infinitely the most precious to him. The head of the President’s device was now at all times exposed, for he had had himself circumcised, a ceremony which largely facilitates enjoyment and to which all pleasure-loving persons ought to submit. But one of the purposes of the same operation is to keep this privity cleaner; nothing of the sort in Curval’s case: this part of him was just as filthy as the other: this uncapped head, naturally quite thick to begin with, was thus made at least an inch ampler in circumference. Similarly untidy about all the rest of his person, the President, who furthermore had tastes at the very least as nasty as his appearance, had become a figure whose rather malodorous vicinity might not have succeeded in pleasing everyone. However, his colleagues were not at all of the sort to be scandalized by such trifles, and they simply avoided discussing the matter with him. Few mortals had been as free in their behavior or as debauched as the President; but, entirely jaded, absolutely besotted, all that remained to him was the depravation and lewd profligacy of libertinage. Above three hours of excess, and of the most outrageous excess, were needed before one could hope to inspire a voluptuous reaction in him. As for his emission, although in Curval the phenomenon was far more frequent than erection, and could be observed once every day, it was, all the same, so difficult to obtain, or it never occurred save as an aftermath to things so strange and often so cruel or so unclean, that the agents of his pleasures not uncommonly renounced the struggle, fainting by the wayside, the which would give birth in him to a kind of lubricious anger and this, through its effects, would now and again triumph where his efforts had failed. Curval was to such a point mired down in the morass of vice and libertinage that it had become virtually impossible for him to think or speak of anything else. He unendingly had the most appalling expressions in his mouth, just as he had the vilest designs in his heart, and these with surpassing energy he mingled with blasphemies and imprecations supplied him by his true horror, a sentiment he shared with his companions, for everything that smacked of religion. This disorder of mind, yet further augmented by the almost continual intoxication in which he was fond of keeping himself, had during the past few years given him an air of imbecility and prostration which, he would declare, made for his most cherished delight. Born as great a gourmand as a drunk, he alone was fit to keep abreast of the Duc, and in the course of this tale we will behold him to perform wonders which will no doubt astonish the most veteran eaters. It had been ten years since Curval had ceased to discharge his judicial duties; it was not simply that he was no longer fit to carry them out, but I even believe that while he had been, he may have been asked to leave these matters alone for the rest of his life. Curval had led a very libertine life, every sort of perversion was familiar to him, and those who knew him personally had the strong suspicion he owed his vast fortune to nothing other than two or three execrable murders. However that may be, it is, in the light of the following story, highly probable that this variety of extravagance had the power to stir him deeply, and it is this adventure, which attracted some unfortunate publicity, that was responsible for his exclusion from the Court. We are going to relate the episode in order to give the reader an idea of his character. There dwelled in the neighborhood of Curval’s town house a miserable street porter who, the father of a charming little girl, was ridiculous enough to be a person of sensibility. Twenty messages of every kind had already arrived containing proposals relating to the poor fellow’s daughter; he and his wife had remained unshaken despite this barrage aimed at their corruption, and Curval, the source of these embassies, only irritated by the growing number of refusals they had evoked, knew not what tack to take in order to get his hands upon the girl and to subject her to his libidinous caprices, until it struck him that by simply having the father broken he would lead the daughter to his bed. The thing was as nicely conceived as executed. Two or three bullies in the President’s pay intervened in the suit, and before the month was out, the wretched porter was enmeshed in an imaginary crime which seemed to have been committed at his door and which got him speedily lodged in one of the Conciergerie’s dungeons. The President, as one would expect, soon took charge of the case, and, having no desire to permit it to drag on, arranged in the space of three days, thanks to his knavery and his gold, to have the unlucky porter condemned to be broken on the wheel, without the culprit ever having committed any crime but that of wishing to preserve his honor and safeguard his daughter’s. Meanwhile, the solicitations were renewed. The mother was brought in, it was explained to her that she alone had it in her power to save her husband, that if she were to satisfy the President, what could be clearer than that he would thereupon snatch her husband from the dreadful fate awaiting him. Further hesitation was impossible; the woman made inquiries; Curval knew perfectly well to whom she addressed herself, the counsels were his creatures, and they gave her unambiguous replies: she ought not waste a moment. The poor woman herself brought her daughter weeping to her judge’s feet; the latter could not have been more liberal with his promises, nor have been less eager to keep his word. Not only did he fear lest, were he to deal honorably and spare the husband, the man might go and raise an uproar upon discovering the price that had been paid to save his life, but the scoundrel even found a further delight, a yet keener one, in arranging to have himself given what he wished without being obliged to make any return. This thought led to others; numerous criminal possibilities entered his head, and their effect was to increase his perfidious lubricity. And this is how he set about the matter so as to put the maximum of infamy and piquancy into the scene: His mansion stood facing a spot where criminals are sometimes executed in Paris, and as this particular offense had been committed in that quarter of the city, he won assurance the punishment would be meted out on this particular square. The wretch’s wife and daughter arrived at the President’s home at the appointed hour; all windows overlooking the square were well shuttered, so that, from the apartments where he amused himself with his victims, nothing at all could be seen of what was going on outside. Apprised of the exact minute of the execution, the rascal selected it for the deflowering of the little girl who was held in her mother’s arms, and everything was so happily arranged that Curval discharged into the child’s ass the moment her father expired. Instantly he’d completed his business, “Come have a look,” quoth he, opening a window looking upon the square, “come see how well I’ve kept my bargain,” and one of his two princesses saw her father, the other her husband, delivering up his soul to the headsman’s steel. Both collapsed in a faint, but Curval had provided for everything: this swoon was their agony, they’d both been poisoned, and nevermore opened their eyes. Notwithstanding the precautions he had taken to swathe the whole of this exploit in the most profound mystery, something did indeed transpire: nothing was known of the women’s death, but there existed a lively suspicion he had been untruthful in connection with the husband’s case. His motive was half-known, and his eventual retirement from the bench was the outcome. As of this moment, no longer having to maintain appearances, Curval flung himself into a new ocean of errors and crimes. He sent everywhere for victims to sacrifice to the perversity of his tastes. Through an atrocious refinement of cruelty, but one, however, very easily understood, the downtrodden classes were those upon which he most enjoyed hurling the effects of his raging perfidy. He had several minions who were abroad night and day, scouring attics and hovels, tracking down whatever of the most destitute misery might be able to provide, and under the pretext of dispensing aid, either he envenomed his catch, to give poison was one of his most delectable pastimes, or he lured it to his house and slew it upon the altar of his perverse preferences. Men, women, children: anything was fuel to his rage, and at its bidding he performed excesses which would have got his head between block and blade a thousand times over were it not for the silver he distributed and the esteem he enjoyed, factors whereby he was a thousand times protected. One may well imagine such a being had no more religion than his two confreres; he without doubt detested it as sovereignly as they, but in years past had done more to wither it in others, for, in the days when his mind had been sound, it had also been clever, and he had put it to good use writing against religion; he was the author of several works whose influence had been prodigious, and these successes, always present in his memory, still constituted one of his dearest delights. The more we multiply the objects of our enjoyments. (a) The years of a sickly childhood. (b) Durcet is fifty-three; he is small, short, broad, thickset; an agreeable, hearty face; a very white skin; his entire body, and principally his hips and buttocks, absolutely like a woman’s; his ass is cool and fresh, chubby, firm, and dimpled, but excessively agape, owing to the habit of sodomy; his prick is extraordinarily small, Tis scarcely two inches around, no more than four inches long; it has entirely ceased to stiffen; his discharges are rare and uneasy, far from abundant and always preceded One. Place here the portrait of Durcet as it is in notebook 18, the one that’s bound in pink, then, after having concluded this portrait with the words under (a) in the notebooks, continue with (b). by spasms which hurl him into a kind of furor which, in turn, conducts him to crime; he has a chest like a woman’s, a sweet, pleasant voice and, when in society, the best-bred manners, although his mind is without question as depraved as his colleagues’; a schoolmate of the Duc, they still sport together every day, and one of Durcet’s loftiest pleasures is to have his anus tickled by the Duc’s enormous member. And such, dear reader, are the four villains in whose company I am going to have you pass a few months. I have done my best to describe them; if, as I have wished, I have made you familiar with even their most secret depths, nothing in the tale of their various follies will astonish you. I have not been able to enter into minute detail with what regards their tastes, to have done so now would have been to impair the value and to harm the main scheme of this work. But as we move progressively along, you will have but to keep an attentive eye upon our heroes, and you’ll have no trouble discerning their characteristic peccadillos and the particular type of voluptuous mania which best suits each of them. Roughly all we can say at the present time is that they were generally susceptible of an enthusiasm for sodomy, that the four of them had themselves buggered regularly, and that they all four worshiped behinds. The Duc, however, relative to the immensity of his weapon and, doubtless, more through cruelty than from taste, still fucked cunts with the greatest pleasure. So also did the President, but less frequently. As for the Bishop, such was his supreme loathing for them the mere sight of one might have kept him limp for six months. He had never in all his life fucked but one, that belonging to his sister-in-law, and expressly to beget a child wherewith someday to procure himself the pleasures of incest; we have seen how well he succeeded. As regards Durcet, he certainly idolized the ass with as much fervor as the Bishop, but his enjoyment of it was more accessory; his favorite attacks were directed toward a third sanctuary, this mystery will be unveiled in the sequel. But on with the portraits essential to the intelligence of this work, and let us now give our reader an idea of these worthy husbands’ four wives. What a contrast! Constance, the Duc’s wife and the daughter of Durcet, was a tall woman, slender, lovely as a picture, and modeled as if the Graces had taken pleasure in embellishing her, but the elegance of her figure in no way detracted from her freshness, she was not for that the less plumply fleshed, and the most delicious forms graced by a skin fairer than the lily, often induced one to suppose that, no, it had been Love itself who had undertaken her formation. Her face was a trifle long, her features wonderfully noble, more majesty than gentleness was in her look, more grandeur than subtlety. Her eyes were large, black, and full of fire; her mouth extremely small and ornamented by the finest teeth imaginable, she had a narrow, supple tongue, of the loveliest pink, and her breath was sweeter still than the scent of a rose. She was full-breasted, her bosom was most buxom, fair as alabaster and as firm. Her back was turned in an extraordinary way, its lines sweeping deliciously down to the most artistically and the most precisely cleft ass Nature has produced in a long time. Nothing could have been more perfectly round, not very large, but firm, white, dimpled; and when it was opened, what used to peep out but the cleanest, most winsome, most delicate hole. A nuance of tenderest pink had shaded this ass, charming asylum of lubricity’s sweetest pleasures, but, great God! It was not for long to preserve so many charms! Four or five attacks, and the Duc had spoiled all those graces, how quickly had they gone, and soon after her marriage Constance was become no more than the image of a beautiful lily wherefrom the tempest has of late stripped the petals away. Two round and perfectly molded thighs supported another temple, in all likelihood less delicious, but, to him inclined to worship there, offering so many allurements it would be in vain were my pen to strive to describe them. Constance was almost a virgin when the Duc married her, and her father, the only man who had known her, had, as they say, left that side of her perfectly intact. The most beautiful black hair, falling in natural curls to below her shoulders and, when one wished it thus, reaching down to the pretty fur, of the same color, which shaded that voluptuous little cunt, made for a further adornment I might have been guilty of omitting, and lent this angelic creature, aged about twenty-two, all the charms Nature is able to lavish upon a woman. To all these amenities Constance joined a fair and agreeable wit, a spirit somewhat more elevated than it ought to have been, considering the melancholy situation fate had awarded her, for thereby she was enabled to sense all its horror and, doubtless, she would have been happier if furnished with less delicate perceptions. Durcet, who had raised her more as if she were a courtesan than his daughter, and who had been much more concerned to give her talents than manners, had all the same never been able totally to destroy the principles of rectitude and of virtue it seemed Nature had been pleased to engrave in her heart. She had no formal religion, no one had ever mentioned such a thing to her, the exercise of a belief was not to be tolerated in her father’s household, but all that had not blotted out this modesty, this natural humility which has nothing to do with theological chimeras, and which, when it dwells in an upright, decent, and sensitive soul, is very difficult to obliterate. Never had she stepped out of her father’s house, and the scoundrel had forced her, beginning at the age of twelve, to serve his crapulous pleasures. She found a world of difference in those the Duc imbibed with her, her body was noticeably altered by those formidable dimensions, and the day after the Duc had despoiled her of her maidenhead, sodomistically speaking, she had fallen dangerously ill. They believed her rectum had been irreparably damaged; but her youth, her health, and some salutary local remedies soon restored the use of that forbidden avenue to the Duc, and the luckless Constance, forced to accustom herself to this daily torture, and it was but one amongst others, entirely recovered and became adjusted to everything. Adelaide, Durcet’s wife and the daughter of the President, had a beauty which was perhaps superior to Constance’s, but of an entirely different sort. She was twenty, small and slender, of an extremely slight and delicate build, of classic loveliness, had the finest blond hair to be seen. An interesting air, a look of sensibility distributed everywhere about her, and above all in her features, gave her the quality of a heroine in a romance. Her exceptionally large eyes were blue, they expressed at once tenderness and decency; two long but narrow and remarkably drawn eyebrows adorned a forehead not very high but of such noble charm one might have thought this were modesty’s very temple. Her nose, thin, a little pinched at the top, descended to assume a semi-aquiline contour; her lips inclined toward the thin, were of a bright, ripe red; a little large, her mouth was the unique flaw in this celestial physiognomy, but when it opened, there shone thirty-two pearls Nature seemed to have sown amidst roses. Her neck was a shade long, attached in a singular way and, through what one judged a natural habit, her head was ever so faintly bent toward her right shoulder, especially when she was listening; but with what grace did not this interesting attitude endow her! Her breasts were small, very round, very firm, well-elevated, but there was barely enough there to fill the hand. They were like two little apples a frolicking Cupid had fetched hither from his mother’s garden. Her chest was a bit narrow, it was also a very delicate chest, and her belly was satin smooth, a little blond mound not much garnished with hair served as peristyle to the temple in which Venus seemed to call out for an homage. This temple was narrow to such a point you could not insert a finger therein without eliciting a cry from Adelaide; nevertheless, two lustrums had revolved since the time when, thanks to the President, the poor child had ceased to be a virgin, either in that place or in the delicious part it remains for us to sketch. Oh, what were the attractions this second sanctuary possessed, what a flow in the line of her back, how magnificently were those buttocks cut, what whiteness there, and what dazzling rose blush! But all in all, it was on the small side. Delicate in all her lines, she was rather the sketch than the model of beauty, it seemed as though Nature had only wished to indicate in Adelaide what she had so majestically articulated in Constance. Peer into that appetizing behind, and lo! A rosebud would offer itself to your gaze, and it was in all its bloom and in the most tender pink Nature wished you to behold it; but narrow? Tiny? It had only been at the price of infinite labors the President had navigated through those straits, and he had only renewed these assaults successfully two or three times. Durcet, less exacting, gave her little affliction in this point, but, since becoming his wife, in exchange for how many other cruel complaisances, with what a quantity of other perilous submissions had she not been obliged to purchase this little kindness? And, furthermore, turned over to the four libertines, as by their mutual consent she was, how many other cruel ordeals had she not to undergo, both of the species Durcet spared her, and of every other. Adelaide had the mind her face suggested, that is to say, an extremely romantic mind, solitary places were the ones she preferred, and once there, she would shed involuntary tears, tears to which we do not pay sufficient heed, tears apparently torn from Nature by foreboding. She was recently bereft of a friend, a girl she idolized, and this frightful loss constantly haunted her imagination. As she was thoroughly acquainted with her father, as she knew to what extents he carried his wild behavior, she was persuaded her young friend had fallen prey to the President’s villainies, for he had never managed to induce the missing person to accord him certain privileges. The thing was not unlikely. Adelaide imagined the same would someday befall her; nor was that improbable. The President, in her regard, had not paid the same attention to the problem of religion Durcet had in the interests of Constance, no, he had allowed all that nonsense to be born, to be fomented, supposing that his writings and his discourses would easily destroy it. He was mistaken: religion is the nourishment upon which a soul such as Adelaide’s feeds. In vain the President had preached, in vain he had made her read books, the young lady had remained a believer, and all these extravagances, which she did not share, which she hated, of which she was the victim, fell far short of disabusing her about illusions which continued to make for her life’s happiness. She would go and hide herself to pray to God, she’d perform Christian duties on the sly, and was unfailingly and very severely punished, either by her father or by her husband, when surprised in the act by the one or the other. Adelaide patiently endured it all, fully convinced Heaven would someday reward her. Her character was as gentle as her spirit, and her benevolence, one of the virtues for which her father most detested her, went to the point of extreme. Curval, whom that vile class of the poverty-stricken irritated, sought only to humiliate it, to further depress it, or to wring victims from it; his generous daughter, on the other hand, would have foregone he

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Rahan. Episode Sixty three. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Andre Cheret. The Beast that speaks. The carpet of branches and palm fronds, in the middle of the track, would certainly cover a trap. What a crude camouflage! Only a blind beast could fall for this trap! Amused, the Son of Crao used his momentum to jump the obstacle. He took ten steps and. Oh! A perfectly concealed pit opened beneath him! Although he was a victim, Rahan appreciated this ruse. A false trap, deliberately visible to force the game to jump into the real trap! Rahan would like to know the hunters who had this idea! Page Two. The son of Crao did not have long to wait. “A hairless “four hands”! A “Four hands" with white skin! We captured a “Four Hands”! Aya-the mother never told us that there were “Four Hands” without hair! The “Four Hands” Do not speak. And Rahan speaks! Like you! Four adolescents waved their spears. The oldest had not yet experienced twenty springs. Go and get Aya-the-mother! She must see the “Four-hands-with-white-skin!” Rahan is not a “Four Hands”! Look at his face! Rahan is a hunter like you! A man like you! The young hunters observed Rahan with obvious astonishment. As the son of Crao hoisted himself out of the trap, he saw the old woman that two youths were carrying, sitting on a bamboo. See the strange beast we have captured, Mother! This beast speaks! This beast is cursed, my sons! Kill it! Kill it! Page Three. Why kill a beast that speaks, Mother? A beast that looks so much like Bhra, Ghao, Chram, Vahou!? Aya-the-mother watched Rahan with hatred. Since you decide to spare the beast, let it leave immediately! Let it disappear! No mother! Let us keep it with us! Although he stood on his guard, the son of Crao did not have time to dodge the attack. You will have to choose another way to defeat Rahan, Brothers! His attackers had on their side the vivacity and passion of youth, but Rahan possessed vigor and experience in combat. So the confrontation was quick! Did you want Rahan to stay with you? He will stay, but of his own free will! Page Four. His adversaries stood up, both worried and admiring. The “Speaking Beast” is stronger than the terrible “Gorilla”! But the old woman could not contain her fury. This beast is more formidable than a "Gorilla"! Let it go! Later, mother! Since it speaks, we want to know where she comes from! Rahan will tell you. He knows a lot about “Those-Who-Walk-Upright.” He will teach them to you! No! No! Do not listen to him my sons! Two adolescents were already carrying Aya-the-mother towards a cave. The other two watched every muscle of Rahan. And compared them to theirs. It is true that you look like us! But who are the “Those-Who-Walk-Upright” that you are talking about? But the hunters, that you see! Hunters who live in the mountains, in the forests, along the “waterways.” You lie! Page Five. Vahou, Ghao, Bhra and Chram are the only hunters! If other hunters existed, mother would have told us about them! The son of fierce ages, distraught, allowed himself to be led to the cave. Rahan knows many solitary hunters, but they all knew they belonged to the great horde of “Those-who-walked-upright”! How is it possible that these are unaware of the existence of other men!? Vahou! Chram! Do not listen to the "Talking Beast"! His tongue is made for lying! Do not listen to him! It is you who lies to your sons, Aya! You know very well that, in other territories, men like them are alive! Why let them believe that they are the only hunters!? Shut up! Shut up! If my legs supported me, I would kill you with my own hands! Since when did your legs die, Aya!? Since the day a "Gorilla" attacked our mother! We were too young, too small to defend her. Page Six. Vahou recounted how, one morning, a giant gorilla had thrown Aya-the-mother into a ravine. Aya had survived, but both of her legs had been broken. My little ones. My dear little ones. You will now have to hunt without me. “Ghorya” is our most formidable enemy! He is so strong he could throw that rock ten steps away! We have always escaped him, But one day “Chorya” will surprise us! He will tear off our legs and arms! Do not say these horrible things, Bhra! For the first time Aya-the-mother seemed moved, and Rahan guessed the immense affection she had for her family. If your heart is generous, why do you hate Rahan? So what is your secret, Aya? Page Seven. Shut up! Shut up! The son of Crao did not have time to dodge the heavy pebble. Why treat him as an enemy, mother! The “Talking Beast” did nothing against us! But it seems like his words scare you! As Rahan recovered his senses Aya discreetly poured a pinch of powder into a drink. Oh Vahou, they scare me. They are very scary! But since you want him to stay, go back to hunting! Bring him some food! Enchanted by this change of heart, the adolescents rushed into the foliage. Yes, Rahan. Like you said, I have a secret. A secret that I cannot tell to my own. But maybe you want to drink some of this fruit blood? With joy, Aya! Rahan is happy that you finally consider him a friend! Page Eight. The son of Crao drank in one gulp, and he suddenly felt all his nerves tense, all his muscles tense. He collapsed at the feet of Aya-the-mother. You will remain at my mercy for as long as I decide! But why not kill you immediately!? Rahan had lost none of his lucidity. He heard and saw, but his tongue and his limbs were paralyzed! Unable to move, he felt the ivory tip of his knife seeking his heart! But Aya suddenly dropped the ivory weapon. No! I cannot! A man's life is too precious a thing! But why are you taking away my happiness, Rahan? Aya-the-mother became thoughtful and her voice became soft. Vahou, Chram, Chao and Bhra are not my children but I love them as if they were my own sons. Page Nine. The leaves have greened fifteen times since that cursed day when the clan entrusted these babies to me to go fight those of the red mountains. Everyone left, women and men alike. But none came back! All had perished in the useless and cruel fight! That day. There I swore that children would grow up in ignorance of men and women. As the seasons passed I made them skilled hunters. I taught them everything I knew myself, but I never mentioned their origin and they never suspected the existence of other men! That is my secret, Rahan. If mine knew they would no doubt be tempted by another life, perhaps they would abandon me! But you will not tell them anything! The drug of “False Death” will prevent you from speaking! Ghao and Bhra came running in terror. Mother! Mother! Vahou and Chram are going to die! The "Gorya" will crush them with stones! Page Ten. Panting, they told how their brothers, surprised by the gorilla, had taken refuge in a ravine with no exit. They would not long escape the rocks that "Ghorya" was throwing at them! Aya-the-mother was livid. Her anguished gaze went from her young sons to Rahan. Only you can save mine! But would you accept, after what I did? Yes? Rahan blinked in agreement. Aya poured another brew between his lips. This destroys the effects of the "False Death" drug! A few seconds later, in fact, the son of Crao regained his speech and movement! Lead Rahan to the Ravine! Quickly! Quickly! The old woman watched him disappear with emotion. You were wrong, Aya! This one is not a man like the others! The love you have for yours blinded you, Aya! It made you selfish and unfair! Page Eleven. The gorilla was about to throw a heavy rock when Rahan's challenge fell behind him. Prepare to die, “Ghorya”! The son of fierce ages leaped, narrowly avoiding the rock. And Ghao and Bhra, with tight throats, thought they were dreaming. With astonishing courage, the “Talking Beast” faced this monster that had so often terrified them! It was a fierce and wild melee. Of which Vahou and Chram, who were climbing out of the Ravine, only saw the last phase. Ra-ha-ha! Rahan's clamor of victory arose so loudly that the heart of Aya the mother must have rejoiced. Page Twelve. A little later. I will never live long enough to show my gratitude to you, Rahan! What fate would you have reserved for Rahan if. We would put you on a raft and send you running. When the drug would have stopped acting, you would have found yourself far, far from here! And Chram and Vhaou would have died because of me! Without doubt you think many bad things of me! No, Aya! Rahan thinks your way of loving your people is wrong! “Those-who-walk-upright” cannot live isolated from each other! They must teach each other, share their knowledge! You are probably right, Rahan. But is it not too late now? Will they forgive me? We always forgive a mother! And it is never too late to fix a mistake! What will become of those you love when you have joined the territory of shadows? What will they know about the sight of their fellow men? It was, for the young hunters, the night of revelations. Rahan spoke of clans and their customs, evoked a thousand unknown and wonderful things. The sun found him on the trail guiding Aya and her sons. They were happily going to discover these beings about whom, until the day before, they knew nothing. Beings who bore the name “Man.” Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

The Gothic Tales of the Marquis de Sade. Some Quotes: May they be convinced that good upbringing, riches, talents and the gifts bestowed by nature are only likely to lead people astray when restraint, good conduct, wisdom and modesty are not there to support them or turn them to good account. In a century when the most dangerous books are in the hands of children, as in those of their fathers and teachers, when the temerity of obstinacy passes for philosophy, unbelief for strength and licentiousness for imagination, it often happens that a woman who shares our faults pleases us a great deal less in our pleasures than one who is full of naught but virtues: the first resembles us, we scandalize her not; the other is terrified, and there is one very certain charm the more. =================================== Eugenie de Franval. A Tragic Story. Our only motive in writing this story is the instruction of mankind and the betterment of their way of life. May all readers become fully aware of the great peril that always dogs those who do as they wish in order to satisfy their desires. May they be convinced that good upbringing, riches, talents and the gifts bestowed by nature are only likely to lead people astray when restraint, good conduct, wisdom and modesty are not there to support them or turn them to good account: these are the truths that we are going to put into action. May we be forgiven the unnatural details of the horrible crime of which we are forced to speak, is it possible to make such deviations detestable if one has not the courage to present them openly? Rarely does everything harmonies in the same being to lead him to prosperity; if he is favored by nature then fortune refuses him her gifts; if fortune is liberal with her favors then nature treats him badly; it appears that the hand of Heaven wishes to show us that in each individual, as in its most sublime operations, the laws of equilibrium are the first laws of the Universe, the ones which simultaneously regulate everything that happens, everything that vegetates and everything that breathes. Franval, who lived in Paris, where he was born, possessed, along with an income of 400,000 livres, the finest figure, the most pleasant face and the most varied talents; but beneath this attractive exterior lay hidden every vice, and unfortunately those of which the adoption and habitual indulgence lead so rapidly to crime. An imagination more unbridled than anything one can depict was Franval's prime defect; men of this type do not mend their ways, the decline of power makes them worse; the less they can do, the more they undertake; the less they achieve, the more they invent; each age brings new ideas, and satiety, far from cooling their ardor, only prepares the way for more fatal refinements. As we said, Franval possessed in profusion all the amenities of youth, all the talents which enhance it; but since he was full of disdain for moral and religious duties it had become impossible for his tutors to make him adopt any of them. In a century when the most dangerous books are in the hands of children, as in those of their fathers and teachers, when the temerity of obstinacy passes for philosophy, unbelief for strength and licentiousness for imagination, the young Franval's wit was greeted with laughter, a moment later perhaps he was scolded for it, then he was praised. Franval's father, a great supporter of the fashionable sophistries, was the first to encourage his son to think seriously about all these matters; he himself lent him all the works which could corrupt him more rapidly; what teacher would have dared, after that, to inculcate principles different from those of the household where he was obliged to please? In any case, Franval lost his parents when he was still very young, and at the age of nineteen, an old uncle, who himself died shortly afterwards, assigned him, while arranging his marriage, all the possessions that were to belong to him one day. Monsieur de Franval, with such a fortune, should easily have found a wife; an infinite number of candidates presented themselves, but since he had begged his uncle to give him only a girl younger than himself, and with as few people around her as possible, the old relative, in order to satisfy his nephew, let his choice fall upon a certain Mademoiselle de Farneille, the daughter of a financier, possessing now only a mother, still young in fact, but with 60,000 livres of very real income; the girl was fifteen, and had the most delightful physiognomy to be found in Paris at that time, one of those virginal faces, in which innocence and charm are depicted together, in the delicate features of love and the graces, fine blonde hair floating below her waist, large blue eyes expressing tenderness and modesty, a slender, supple and slight figure, with a lilywhite skin and the freshness of roses, full of talents, a very lively imagination, but with a touch of sadness, a little of that gentle melancholy which leads to a love of books and solitude; attributes which nature seems to grant only to the individuals whom her hand destines to misfortunes, as though to make them less bitter, through that sober and touching voluptuousness that they enjoy in feeling them, and which makes them prefer tears to the frivolous joy of happiness, much less effective and much less penetrating. Madame de Farneille, who was thirty-two when her daughter was married, was also witty and attractive, but perhaps slightly too reserved and severe; since she desired the happiness of her only child, she had consulted the whole of Paris about this match; and since she no longer had any relatives and her only advisers were some of those cold friends to whom everything is indifferent, people convinced her that the young man who was being offered to her daughter was without any doubt the best she could find in Paris, and that she would commit an unforgivable folly if she failed to agree to this match, it therefore took place: and the young people, who were rich enough to take their own house, settled in it at once. In young Franval's heart were none of those vices of frivolity, restlessness or foolishness which prevent a man from being fully developed before thirty; understanding himself very well, liking order, perfectly capable of running a house, Franval possessed all the necessary qualities for this aspect of the enjoyment of life. His vices, of a totally different kind, were indeed rather the faults of maturity than the inconsistencies of youth, artfulness, intrigue, malice, baseness, selfishness, much diplomacy and trickery, while all this was concealed not only by the graces and talents already mentioned but even by eloquence and infinite wit and by the most seductive external appearance. Such was the man whom we have to depict. Mademoiselle de Farneille, who, in accordance with custom, had known her husband for a month at the most before allying herself to him, deceived by this false brilliance, had been taken in by him; the days were not long enough for the pleasure of contemplating him, she idolized him, and things had even reached the point when people would have feared for this young person if any obstacle had upset the delights of a marriage in which she found, she said, the only happiness of her life. As for Franval, who was philosophical about women as about all other things in life, he had considered this delightful person with utter coolness. The wife who belongs to us, he would say, is a kind of individual whom custom has made subservient to us; she must be gentle, submissive, very demure, not that I am concerned with the prejudices of dishonor which a wife can bring upon us when she imitates our licentiousness, but one does not like the idea that someone else is contemplating the removal of our rights; all the rest is immaterial and adds nothing to happiness. When a husband feels this way it is easy to prophesy that there are no roses in store for the unfortunate girl who is allied to him. Madame de Franval, who was honorable, sensitive, well brought up and anticipated through love the wishes of the only man in the world who occupied her, wore her chains for the first few years without suspecting her enslavement; it was easy for her to see that she was only gleaning the fields of marriage, but she was still too happy with what was left to her and her only care, her closest attention was directed to the fact that during those brief moments granted to her affection, Franval could at least encounter all that she believed to be necessary to the happiness of this beloved husband. The best proof of all, however, which Franval still did not exclude from his duties, was that during the first year of his marriage his wife, then aged sixteen and a half, gave birth to a daughter even more beautiful than her mother, and whom the father at once named Eugenie. Eugenie, both the horror and the miracle of nature. Monsieur de Franval, who, as soon as this child was born, no doubt formed the most detestable designs on her, immediately separated her from her mother. Until the age of seven, Eugenie was entrusted to women of whom Franval was sure and who, limiting their endeavors to forming a good constitution and teaching her to read, took care not to give her any knowledge of religious or moral principles, about which a girl of her age should normally be instructed. Madame de Farneille and her daughter, who were very shocked by this conduct, reproached Monsieur de Franval about it; he replied phlegmatically that since his plan was to make his daughter happy, he did not want to force upon her fantasies which were only likely to frighten people without ever becoming useful to them; that a girl whose only need was to learn how to please could at best be unaware of this nonsense, of which the imaginary existence, in disturbing the calm of her life, would give her no additional moral truth and no additional physical grace. Such remarks caused immediate displeasure to Madame de Farneille who, as she moved away from the pleasures of this world, was going closer to thoughts of heaven. Piety is a weakness dependent on age or health. When the passions are at their height a future which one believes to be very distant usually causes little uneasiness, but when their language is less lively, as we near the end, when finally everything leaves us, we cast ourselves again into the bosom of the God whom we heave heard mentioned in childhood, and if according to the philosophers these later illusions are as fantastic as the others, they are at least not so dangerous. Since Franval's mother-in-law had no longer any relatives, little credit on her own, and at the most, as we have said a few of those casual friends, who avoid responsibility if we put them to the test, having to struggle against a likeable, young and well placed son-in-law, imagined very sensibly that it war simpler to keep to representations rather than to undertake stringent measures, with a man who would ruin the mother and have the daughter locked up, if they dared to stand up to him; in the meantime Madame de Farneille merely hazarded a few remonstrances and became silent as soon as she saw that this was achieving nothing. Franval, sure of his superiority, seeing clearly that he was feared, soon renounced all scruples concerning anything whatsoever, and contenting himself with some slight concealment, simply because of the public, went straight to his horrible goal. As soon as Eugenie reached the age of seven, Franval took her to his wife; and this loving mother, who had not seen her child since she had brought her into the world, unable to have her fill of caresses, held her for two hours pressed against her bosom, covering her with kisses, bathing her with tears. She wanted to know what talents she possessed, but Eugenie had none beyond reading fluently, enjoying the most robust health and of being angelically beautiful. Madame de Franval was again in despair when she realized that it was only too true that her daughter was unaware of even the first principles of religion. “What is this, sir,” she said to her husband, “are you therefore bringing her up only for this world? Will you not deign to reflect that she will only inhabit it for a moment like us, and afterwards will plunge into eternity, which will certainly be fatal if you deprive her of what can make her enjoy there a happy fate at the feet of the Being from whom she received life.” “If Eugenie knows nothing, Madame,” replied Franval, “if these maxims are carefully concealed from her, she could not be unhappy; for if they are true, the Supreme Being is too fair to punish her for her ignorance, and if they are false, why mention them to her? As regards the other needs of her education, have confidence in me, I beg you; from today I am to be her teacher, and I assure you that in a few years' time your daughter will surpass all children of her age.” Madame de Franval tried to insist, invoking the eloquence of the heart to assist that of reason, shedding some tears; but Franval, who was unmoved by them, did not even seem to notice them; he had Eugenie taken away, saying to his wife that if she considered opposing in any way the education which he hoped to give his daughter, or if she suggested to him principles different from those which he proposed to instill in her, she would deprive herself of the pleasure of seeing her, and that he would send his daughter to one of his chateaux from which she would never emerge again. Madame de Franval, who had become used to submission, was silent; she begged her husband not to separate her from such a treasured possession and promised, weeping, not to disturb in any way the education that was being prepared for her. From this moment Mademoiselle de Franval was placed in a very fine apartment next to that of her father, with a highly intelligent governess, an under-governess, a chambermaid and two little girls of her own age, who were there for the sole purpose of relaxation. She was given teachers for writing, drawing, poetry, natural history, declamation, geography, astronomy, anatomy, Greek, English, German, Italian, together with instructors for handling weapons, dancing, riding and music. Eugenie rose every day at seven o'clock, whatever the season she ran about the garden eating a large piece of rye bread, which formed her breakfast; she came in at eight o'clock, spent a few moments in her father's apartment, while he played with her or taught her little society games; until nine o'clock she prepared her work; then the first teacher arrived and she received five of them until two o'clock. She took her meal separately with her two friends and her chief governess. The dinner consisted of vegetables, fish, pastries and fruit, never any meat, soup, wine, liqueurs or coffee. From three o'clock to four, Eugenie went back into the garden to play for an hour with her little companions; they played together at tennis, ball-games, skittles, battledore and shuttlecock, or at running races; they wore comfortable clothing according to the season; nothing constricted their waists; they were never fastened into those ridiculous whalebones, which are equally dangerous for the stomach and the chest and which, hindering a young person's breathing, must necessarily harm the lungs. From four to six o'clock Mademoiselle de Franval received more teachers; and since they could not all appear in twenty-four hours, the remainder came during the next day. Three times a week Eugenie went to the theatre with her father, sitting in a little box with gratings, hired for her by the year. At nine o'clock she returned home and took supper, being served only with vegetables and fruit. From ten to eleven o'clock, four times a week, Eugenie played with her women, read a few novels and then went to bed. She spent the three other days, when Franval did not take supper away from home, alone in her father's apartment, and this time was employed in what Franval called his “lectures”. During these he instilled into his daughter his maxims on morals and religion; on one side he showed her what some people thought about these matters and on the other he set out what he accepted himself. Since she had much wit, wide knowledge, a lively intelligence and passions which were already aroused, it is easy to judge of the progress made by such ideas in Eugenie's mind; but since the object of the unworthy Franval was not only to strengthen the mind, his lectures rarely ended without stirring up the emotions; and this horrible man had found so skillfully the means of pleasing his daughter, he seduced her with such art, he made himself so useful in her instruction and her relaxation, he anticipated with such ardor everything which could please her, that Eugenie, in the midst of the most brilliant circles, found no one as attractive as her father; and even before the latter explained himself, the innocent and weak creature had accumulated in her young heart all the feelings of love, gratitude and affection which must necessarily lead to the most ardent desire; Franval was the only man in the world to her; she could distinguish only him, she was revolted by the idea of everything that could separate him from her; she would have given him not her honor, not her charms-for all these sacrifices would have seemed too slight for the moving object of her idolatry-but her blood, her very life, if this tender companion of her soul had demanded it. This was not the case as far as Mademoiselle de Franval's feelings for her worthy and unfortunate mother were concerned. Her father skillfully told Eugenie that Madame de Franval, being his wife, demanded from him attention which often made him unable to do everything for his dear Eugenie that his feelings dictated; he had followed the secret of instilling into this young person's heart much more hate and jealousy than the kind of respectable and affectionate feelings which should have arisen for such a mother. “My friend, my brother,” Eugenie would sometimes say to Franval, who did not want his daughter to use any other expressions with him, “this woman whom you call your wife, this creature who, according to you, brought me into the world, must therefore be very demanding, since in wanting you always with her, she deprives me of the happiness of spending my life with you. I see it clearly, you prefer her to your Eugenie. As far as I am concerned, I will never love anything which takes your heart away from me.” “My dear friend,” replied Franval, “no, nobody whatsoever in the entire world will acquire such powerful rights as yours; the ties which exist between this woman and your best friend are the result of custom and social conventions; I regard them in a philosophical light, and they will never affect those which bind us together, you will always be the one preferred, Eugenie; you will be the angel and the light of my days, the focus of my soul and the purpose of my existence.” “Oh, how sweet are these words!” replied Eugenie, “repeat them often, my friend. If you knew how pleasing to me are the expressions of your tenderness.” She took Franval's hand and pressed it to her heart. “Yes, yes, I feel them all here,” she went on. “How your tender caresses assure me of that,” replied Franval, clasping her in his arms. And in this way, without any remorse, the traitor completed the seduction of the unfortunate girl. However, Eugenie was reaching her fourteenth year, the moment when Franval wanted to consummate his crime. He did so. Let us shudder! The very day when she reached this age, or rather that on which her fourteenth year was completed, they both found themselves in the country, with no relatives present and no one to disturb them. On that day the Count, having caused his daughter to be dressed like the virgins who in the past were consecrated in the temple of Venus, led her, at eleven o'clock in the morning, into a voluptuously decorated drawing-room where the daylight was softened by gauze curtains and the furniture strewn with flowers. In the center stood a throne of roses, Franval led his daughter towards it. “Eugenie,” he told her, seating her upon it, “be today the queen of my heart, and let me adore you on my knees.” “Let you adore me, my brother, when it is I who owe you everything, when you created me and brought me up! Ah, let me rather fall at your feet; this is the only place for me, and with you it is the only one to which I aspire.” “Oh, my tender Eugenie,” said the Count, taking his place near her on the flower-strewn cushions which were to serve his triumph, “if it is true that you owe me something, if in fact the feelings you have for me are as sincere as you say, do you know how to convince me of it?” “How, my brother? Tell me quickly so that I can understand at once.” “All these charms, Eugenie, that nature has so liberally bestowed upon you, all these attentions with which she has beautified you, must be sacrificed to me immediately.” “But what are you asking me? Are you not master of everything? Does not your creation belong to you, can anyone else enjoy your handiwork?” “But you realize the prejudices of men.” “You have in no way concealed them from me.” “I do not therefore want to go against them without your agreement.” “Do you not despise them as I do?” “That is so, but I do not want to tyrannize you, much less seduce you; I want to receive the favors I seek from love alone. You know what the world is like, I have hidden none of its attractions from you. To hide men from your sight, to let you see nobody except myself, would have been a deception unworthy of me; if there exists in the universe a being whom you prefer to me, name him at once, I will go to the ends of the earth to find him and will lead him to your arms at once. In fact it is your happiness that I want, my angel, your happiness much more than mine, the sweet pleasures that you can give me would be nothing to me if they were not the price of your love. Decide, therefore, Eugenie. The moment has come when you are to be sacrificed, you must be. But you yourself must name the man who will carry out the sacrifice, I renounce the pleasures that this title ensures for me if I do not receive them from your heart; and if it is not I whom you prefer, I shall always be worthy of your feelings in bringing you the one whom you can love. If I have not been able to captivate your heart, I will at least have deserved your affection; and I shall be Eugenie's friend, having failed to become her lover.” “You shall be everything, brother, you shall be everything,” said Eugenie, burning with love and desire. “To whom do you want me to sacrifice myself, if it is not to the only man whom I adore? What being in the universe can be more worthy than you of these poor charms that you desire, and which your burning hands are already caressing with ardor! Do you not see from the fire that consumes me that I am as anxious as you to experience the pleasure of which you tell me? Ah, take me, take me, my loving brother, my best friend, make Eugenie your victim; sacrificed by your beloved hands she will always be triumphant.” The ardent Franval, who, in accordance with his character, had only armed himself with so much delicacy in order to seduce with more finesse, soon took advantage of this daughter’s credulity and, with all obstacles removed, as much through the principles with which he had nourished this soul that was open to all kinds of impressions, as through the art with which he captivated her at the last moment, he completed his perfidious conquest, and with impunity destroyed the virginity which by nature and by right it was his responsibility to defend. Several days passed in mutual intoxication. Eugenie, who was old enough to know the pleasures of love, was encouraged by his methods and abandoned herself to it with enthusiasm. Franval taught her all love's mysteries and mapped out all its routes; the more he increased his adoration the better he enslaved his conquest. She would have like to receive him in a thousand temples at once, accusing him of not allowing his imagination to stray far enough; she thought he was concealing something from her. She complained of her age and of an ingenuousness which perhaps did not make her seductive enough: and if she wanted more instruction it was so that no means of arousing her lover could remain unknown to her. They returned to Paris, but the criminal pleasures which had intoxicated this perverse man had given too much delectable enjoyment to his physical and moral faculties for the inconstancy which usually destroyed all his other intrigues to sever the ties of this one. He fell desperately in love, and this dangerous passion led inevitably to the most cruel abandonment of his wife. Alas, what a victim she was! Madame de Franval, then thirty-one years old, was at the height of her beauty; an air of sadness which was inevitable in view of the sorrows that consumed her, made her more intriguing still; bathed in tears, crushed by melancholy, her beautiful hair carelessly flowing loose over her alabaster bosom, her lips pressed amorously to the beloved portrait of her faithless tyrant, she resembled those beautiful virgins whom Michelangelo painted in the midst of sorrow: but she was still unaware of what was to complete her torment. The way in which Eugenie was being educated, the essential things of which she was left in ignorance, or which were only mentioned to her in order to make her hate them; her certainty that these duties, despised by Franval, would never be permitted to her daughter; the brief time she was allowed to see the girl, the fear that the unusual education she was receiving would sooner or later lead her to crime, the eccentricities of Franval in fact, his daily harshness towards her, she who was occupied only in anticipating his wishes, who knew no other charms except those which would interest or please him; until now these had been the only causes of her affliction. "What sorrow was to pierce this loving and sensitive soul as soon as she learned everything! However, Eugenie's education continued; she herself had wished to continue with her teachers until the age of sixteen, and her talents, her extensive knowledge, the graces which were developing in her each day, everything enslaved Franval more strongly; it was easy to see that he had never loved anyone as he loved Eugenie. In Mademoiselle de Franval's external life nothing had been changed except the times of the lectures; these intimate discussions with her father became much more frequent and lasted long into the night. Only Eugenie's governess was informed of this intrigue and they trusted her enough not to fear any indiscretion on her part. There were also some changes in the arrangements for Eugenie's meals, she now took them with her parents. In a house such as Franval's this soon caused Eugenie to meet other people, and to be desired as a wife. Several people asked for her hand Franval, who was certain of his daughter's heart, had not thought it at all necessary to fear these approaches, but he had not realized sufficiently that this rush of proposals might perhaps succeed in revealing everything. During a conversation with her daughter, a favor so desired by Madame de Franval, and one she obtained so rarely, this affectionate mother informed Eugenie that Monsieur de Colunce wished to marry her. “You know this man, my daughter,” said Madame de Franval; “he loves you, he is young and likeable; he will be rich, he merely awaits your consent, your consent only, my daughter, how shall I reply?” Eugenie, taken by surprise, blushed and replied that she felt no taste for marriage as yet, but that her father could be consulted; she would have no wishes other than his. Madame de Franval saw this reply only as straightforward, waited patiently for some days and, finding at last an opportunity to mention it to her husband, she communicated to him the intentions of the young Colunce’s family and those that he had revealed himself, to which she added her daughter's reply. It can well be imagined that Franval knew everything; but he nevertheless succeeded in disguising this without showing too much self-control. “Madame,” he said drily to his wife, “I ask you earnestly not to involve Eugenie in this; the care you have seen me take to remove her from you must have made it easy for you to recognize how much I wanted all that concerned her to have nothing to do with you. I renew my orders to you on this subject, you will not forget them, I imagine?” “But how should I reply, sir, since it is I whom they ask?” “You will say that I appreciate the honor they show me, and that my daughter has defects dating from birth which make marriage difficult.” “But sir, these defects are certainly not real; why do you want me to be upset by them and why deprive your only daughter of the happiness she can find in marriage?” “Have these ties made you very happy, Madame?” “Not all women make the mistakes which I have no doubt made, in failing to captivate you (and with a sigh), or else all husbands do not resemble you.” “Wives, false, jealous, domineering, coquettish or pious. Husbands, treacherous, unfaithful, cruel or despotic, there in a nutshell are all the individuals in the world, Madame; don't hope to find a phoenix”. “And yet everyone gets married.” “Yes, the fools or the idlers; nobody ever marries, said one philosopher, except when they don't know what they are doing, or when they don't know what to do.” “Must one let the world come to an end, then?” “One might as well; it is never too early to exterminate a plant which yields nothing but poison.” “Eugenie will not be very grateful to you for this excessive severity towards her.” “Does this marriage appear to please her?” “Your wishes are her commands, she said so.” “Very well, Madame, my wishes are that you give up this marriage.” And Monsieur de Franval went out, again forbidding his wife in the strongest terms to speak of it again. Madame de Franval did not fail to repeat to her mother the conversation she had just had with her husband, and Madame de Farneille, who was more subtle and more accustomed to the effects of the passions than her attractive daughter, suspected at once that there was something abnormal involved. Eugenie very rarely saw her grandmother, for an hour at the most during social events, and always in Franval's presence. Madame de Farneille therefore, wishing to be enlightened, asked her son-in-law to send her granddaughter to her one day and leave her with her for a whole afternoon in order to cure her, she said, of an attack of migraine from which she was suffering; Franval replied harshly that there was nothing that Eugenie feared as much as the vapors, that he would however bring her where she was wanted but that she could not stay there long, since she was under an obligiation to go from there to a physics lesson, a course that she was following assiduously. They went to Madame de Farneille's, who in no way concealed from her son-in-law her astonishment that the proposed marriage had been refused. “I think,” She went on, “you need have no fear in allowing your daughter to convince me herself of the defect which, according to you, must deprive her of marriage.” “Whether this defect is real or not, Madame,” said Franval somewhat surprised by his mother-in-law's determination, “the fact is that it would cost me a great deal to marry my daughter and I am still too young to agree to such sacrifices; when she is twenty-five, she will do as she wishes; she must not count on me in any way until then.” “And are your feelings still the same, Eugenie?” asked Madame de Farneille. “They differ in one respect, Madame,” said Mademoiselle de Franval very firmly; my father allows me to marry when I am twenty-five, and I, Madame, assure both you and him that I will not take advantage at any point in my lifetime of a permission, which, to my way of thinking, would only contribute to my unhappiness.” “One has no way of thinking at your age, miss,” said Madame de Farneille, “and there is something unusual in all this which I must certainly sort out.” “I urge you to do so, Madame,” said Franval, as he took his daughter away; “it will even be a very good thing if you employ your clergy to penetrate to the heart of the problem, and when all your powers have exerted themselves cleverly, and when you finally know the answer, kindly tell me if I am right or wrong in opposing Eugenie's marriage.” The sarcasm levelled by Franval at his mother-in-law's ecclesiastical advisers was aimed at a praiseworthy person whom it is relevant to introduce, since the progress of events will soon show him in action. This was the spiritual director to Madame de Farneille and her daughter, one of the most virtuous men in France, honest, benevolent, straightforward and wise, Monsieur de Clervil, far from having all the vices of his cloth, possessed only gentle and useful qualities. A reliable support for the poor, a sincere friend of the opulent, consoler of the unfortunate, this worthy man had all the gifts which make someone likeable and all the virtues which make up a sensitive person. When he was consulted Clervil replied like a man of good sense that before taking sides in this matter it was necessary to work out Monsieur de Franval's reasons for opposing his daughter's marriage; and although Madame de Farneille made some remarks likely to arouse suspicion about the intrigue which existed only too truly in fact, the prudent director rejected these ideas, and finding them much too insulting towards Madame de Franval and her husband, he disagreed with them indignantly. “Crime is such a distressing thing, Madame,” this honest man would sometimes say; “it seems so unlikely that a well-conducted person will voluntarily exceed the bounds of modesty and all the restraints of virtue, that it is only with the most extreme repugnance that I decide to attribute such faults; let us only rarely suspect vice; such feelings are often the result of our amour-propre, almost always the outcome of a hidden comparison made in the depths of our mind; we hasten to admit evil so that we can be entitled to find ourselves better. If you think about it seriously, would it not be better, Madame, if a secret fault were never laid bare, rather than for us to invent illusory ones through unforgivable haste and thus to blight without cause as I see it, people who have committed no other errors except those which our pride has attributed to them? Moreover, does not everything gain from this principle? Is it not infinitely less essential to punish a crime than to prevent it from spreading? By leaving it in the obscurity it seeks, is it not as good as abolished? Scandal is certain to spread it abroad. descriptions of it arouse the passions of those inclined to the same type of errors; the inevitable blindness of crime arouses the hope of the guilty man to be happier than him who has just been recognized as such; he has not been given a lesson but a piece of advice, and he abandons himself to excesses that he would perhaps never have dared to commit without the imprudent scandal mistakenly regarded as justice, and which is no more than ill-conceived severity or vanity in disguise. The only decision taken therefore at this first meeting was that of verifying precisely why Franval had put off his daughter's marriage and why Eugenie shared the same way of thinking: it was decided that nothing should be undertaken before these motives were laid bare. “Well, Eugenie,” said Franval that evening to his daughter, “You see, they want to separate us, will they succeed, my child? Will they manage to sever the most cherished bonds of my life?” “Never, never, do not fear it, my dearest friend! The ties in which you revel are as precious to me as to you; you have in no way deceived me, you showed me, while forming them, to what extent they clashed with custom. I am not afraid to contravene practices which, varying from one part of the world to another, cannot be sacred in any way; I desired these bonds, I wove them without remorse, do not fear therefore that I shall break them.” “Alas, who knows? Colunce is younger than I am. He has everything necessary to attract you, do not heed, Eugenie, the residue of error which no doubt blinds you; maturity and the light of reason will dispel prestige and will soon lead to regrets, you will blame me for them, and I shall not forgive myself for having been the cause of them!” “No,” Eugenie went on firmly, “no, I am determined to love you alone; I should believe myself the most unfortunate of women if I had to take a husband, I,” she went on, with warmth, “link myself to a stranger who, not having like you twin reasons for loving me, would limit his feelings, at the most his desires. If I were to be abandoned and despised by him, what would become of me afterwards? Would I be a sanctimonious prude or a harlot? Oh, no, no, I would rather be your mistress, my friend. Yes, I love you a thousand times too much to be reduced to playing in society either of those infamous roles. But what is the cause of all this disturbance?” Eugenie went on bitterly. “do you know what it is, my friend? Who it is? Your wife! She alone. Her insatiable jealousy. Have no doubt about it, those are the sole causes of the misfortunes which threaten us, Ah! I do not blame her for it: everything is simple, everything is understandable, everything is possible when it is a question of keeping you. What would I not undertake if I were in her place, and someone wanted to take your heart away from me?” Franval, strangely moved, embraced his daughter time and time again; and the latter, further encouraged by these criminal caresses, developing her atrocious thoughts in a more energetic fashion, dared to tell her father, with unpardonable shamelessness, that the only way in which they could both be less closely observed was to provide her mother with a lover. This plan entertained Franval; but since he was much more wicked than his daughter and wanted imperceptibly to prepare her youthful heart for all the feelings of hatred against his wife that he intended to sow there, he replied that he thought this revenge too mild, and that there were many other ways of upsetting a woman when she annoyed her husband. A few weeks passed in this manner, during which Franval and his daughter finally decided on the first plan conceived to bring despair to this monster's virtuous wife, believing, rightly, that before adopting more unworthy procedures, they must at least try to produce a lover; this would not only provide material for all other methods, but, if it succeeded, would of necessity oblige Madame de Franval not to concern herself with the faults of others, since her own would also have been revealed. In order to carry out this project Franval examined all the young men of his acquaintance and, after thinking things over carefully, he found that only Valmont seemed likely to prove useful to him. Valmont was thirty years old, handsome, witty, imaginative, with no principles whatever, and as a result highly suitable for the role that was to be offered to him. Franval invited him to dinner one evening, and as they left the table he took him aside. “My friend,” he said, “I have always deemed you to be worthy of me; now is the moment to prove that I have not been mistaken: I demand a proof of your feelings, but a very unusual proof.” “What is all this? Explain yourself, dear man, and never doubt my anxiety to serve you!' “What do you think of my wife?” “She is delightful; and if you were not her husband, I'd have been her lover for a long time.” “That is a most considerate remark, Valmont, but it does not move me.” “Why not?” “I'm going to surprise you, it is precisely because you like me, precisely because I am Madame de Franval's husband that I demand you to become her lover.” “Are you mad?” “No, but I'm whimsical, capricious, you've known me to be like this for a long time, I want virtue to come to grief and I would like it to be you who takes her in the snare.” “What an outrageous idea!” “Don’t say a word, this is a masterpiece of reasoning.” “What! You want me to? “Yes, I want it, I demand it, and I cease to regard you as my friend if you refuse me this favor, I will look after you. I will satisfy all your needs, it will be to your advantage; and, as soon as I am quite certain of my fate, I shall, if necessary, throw myself at your feet to thank you for obliging me.” “Franval, you cannot deceive me; there is something very unusual in all this. I will undertake nothing unless I know everything.” “Yes, but I think you have some scruples, I suspect that you aren't yet intelligent enough to be capable of understanding all that is involved. You still have prejudices, you're still chivalrous, I wager? You will shudder like a child when I've told you everything, and you won't want to do anything anymore.” “I, shudder? I am really amazed at your way of judging me: learn, my dear friend, that there is not an aberration in the world, not a single one, however irregular it might be, that is capable of upsetting me for a moment.” “Valmont, have you cast eyes on Eugenie?” “Your daughter?” “Or my mistress, if you prefer?” “Ah, you scoundrel, I understand you.” “That's the first time in my life I've found you to be intelligent.” “What is this? Tell me honestly, are you in love with your daughter?” “Yes, my friend, like Lott I have always had such a great respect for the holy scriptures, I was always so convinced that one could gain heaven by emulating their heroes! Ah, my friend, the madness of Pygmalion no longer surprises me is the universe not full of these weaknesses? Was it not necessary to start in this way in order to populate the world? And if it was not evil then, can it have become so since? How preposterous! May not a pretty woman attract me because I made the mistake of bringing her into the world? Should the thing which ought to link me to her more closely become the reason for separating me from her? Should I look at her coldly because she resembles me because she is my own flesh and blood, because in her are united every foundation for the most ardent love? Ah, what sophistries, how ridiculous! Let us leave to fools these absurd restraints, they are not made for souls like ours; the dominion of beauty and the sacred rights of love know nothing of futile human conventions; their ascendancy annihilates these just as the rays of the sun purify the earth from the fogs that enshroud her at night. Let us trample underfoot these atrocious prejudices which have always been hostile to happiness; if they sometimes prevailed over reason, it was only at the expense of the most seductive pleasures, let us despise them forever.” “You convince me,” replied Valmont, “and I completely agree that your Eugenie must be a delightful mistress, she is a more lively beauty than her mother, and if she does not possess, like your wife, quite that languor which takes hold of the heart in such a voluptuous way, she has that piquancy which overwhelms us, which seems in fact to subdue every possibility of resistance; if the mother appears to yield, the daughter demands; what the former permits, the latter offers, and I find this much more attractive.” “Yet I am giving you not Eugenie, but her mother.” “Now what reason leads you to do this?” “My wife is jealous, she gets in my way, she criticises me! she wants to arrange a marriage for Eugenie, I must make her have faults in order to conceal my own; therefore you must have her, amuse yourself with her for some time, and betray her afterwards. I must surprise you in her arms, punish her or through this discovery I must purchase peace on both sides in our mutual errors, but no love, Valmont, keep cool, enslave her, and don't let yourself be dominated; if feelings come into it, my plans will be wrecked.” “Have no fear, this would be the first time a woman has moved me.” Our two scoundrels therefore concluded their arrangements, and it was resolved that within a few days Valmont would take Madame de Franval in hand, with full permission to do everything he wanted to achieve success, even the avowal of Franval's love, as the most powerful means of making this honest woman decide on revenge. Eugenie, to whom the plan was confided, found it vastly entertaining; the infamous creature dared to say that if Valmont succeeded it was necessary, if her own happiness were to be as complete as possible, for her to be assured, through her own eyes, of her mother's downfall, for her to see this virtuous heroine yield incontestably to the pleasurable delights which she condemned with such severity. Finally came the day when the most demure and unfortunate of women was not only to receive the most painful blow that could be dealt her, but was to be sufficiently outraged by her frightful husband to be abandoned, delivered by him to the man by whom he consented to be dishonoured. What madness! What scorn of all principles! For what purpose can nature create hearts as depraved as these? A few preliminary conversations had set this scene; Valmont, moreover, was friendly enough with Franval for the latter's wife, to whom this had already happened without risk, to be incapable of imagining that any danger would be incurred by remaining alone with him. They were all three in the drawing-room, when Franval rose. “I must leave,” he said, an important business matter calls me, It's like putting you with your governess, madame,” he added with a laugh, 'leaving you with Valmont, he's so well behaved, but if he forgets himself, you must tell me, I don't like him enough yet to hand over my rights to him! And the shameless man went out. After a few commonplace remarks, arising from Franval's Joke, Valmont said that he had found his friend changed during the last six months. “I have not dared to ask him why,” he went on, “but he seems unhappy.” “What is very certain,” replied Madame de Franval, “is the terrible unhappiness he is causing to others.” “Oh heavens, what are you telling me? Has my friend been treating you badly?” “If only that were the extent of our troubles!' “Do please tell me, you know my ardor, my undying attachment.” “A series of horrible disturbances, moral corruption, in fact errors of all kinds, would you believe it? The most advantageous marriage is suggested to us on behalf of our daughter, he does not want it.” And at this point the skillful Valmont looked away, with the air of a man who understands, groans, and dare not explain himself. “How is this, sir?” went on Madame de Franval, “are you not astonished by what I am saying? Your silence is very strange.” “Ah, madame, is it not better to be silent than to say something that would bring despair to the person one loves?” “What is this enigma, explain yourself, I entreat you.” “How can I not shudder at opening your eyes,” said Valmont, impetuously seizing this charming woman's hand. “Oh sir,” went on Madame de Franval with much animation, 'either say not another word, or explain yourself, I insist, you are putting me in a terrible position.” “Much less so perhaps than the state to which you reduce me yourself, ' said Valmont, looking at the woman he was trying to seduce, his eyes ablaze with love. “But what does all this mean, sir? You begin by alarming me, you make me want an explanation, next you dare to let me hear things which I should not and cannot tolerate, you remove from me the means of learning from you what torments me so cruelly. Speak, sir, speak, or you will reduce me to despair.” “I shall be less obscure then, since you demand it, Madame, and although it costs me something to break your heart, learn the harsh reason for your husband's refusal to Monsieur de Colunce. Eugenie.” “Well?” “Well, Madame, Franval adores her; he is now not so much her father as her lover, and he would prefer to stop living rather than give up Eugenie.” Madame de Franval did not hear this fatal explanation without a shock which made her lose her senses; Valmont hastened to go to her aid. “You see, madam e, ' he went on, 'the cost of the avowal that you demanded. Not for anything in the world would I.” “Leave me, sir, leave me,” said Madame de Franval, in a state difficult to describe; “after such violent shocks I need to be alone for a moment.” “And would you want me to leave you in this state? I feel your sorrows too vividly in my heart not to ask your permission to share them. I inflicted this wound, let me heal it.” “Franval in love with his daughter, gracious heaven! This creature whom I bore within me, it is she who rends his heart in such atrocious style! Such a fearful crime, ah, sir, is it possible? Are your really sure?” “If I still had doubts about it, Madame, I would have kept silence, I would have preferred a hundred times to tell you nothing rather than upset you to no purpose; it was from your husband himself that I received proof of this infamy, he confided it to me; however that may be, be calm, I beg you; let us concern ourselves now with the means of breaking this intrigue rather than with those for explaining it; now, these means rest only with you.” “Ah, tell me about them quickly, this crime horrifies me.” “a husband with Franval's character, Madame, is not won back in any way by virtue; your hus band has little faith in the sage demeanor of women; he maintains that it is due to their pride or their temperament, the things they do to preserve themselves for us are done much more to satisfy themselves than to please or enslave us. Forgive me, Madame, but I will not disguise from you that I believe more or less as he does on this subject; I never saw that virtues made a wife succeed in destroying her husband's vices; conduct more or less similar to Franval's would rouse him much more and would bring him back to you much more satisfactorily; jealousy would certainly result, and how many hearts have been restored to love through this constantly infallible method; your husband, then, seeing that this virtue, to which he is accustomed, and which he has the effrontery to despise, is due much more to reflection than to carelessness, will really learn to appreciate it in you, at the moment when he believes you capable of failing in it; he imagines, he dares to say that if you have never had any lovers it is because you have never been attacked; prove to him that it only depends on you to be so, to have your revenge for his wrongs and his scorn; perhaps you will do a little harm, in view of your stern principles, but how many evils you will have prevented, what a husband you will have converted ! And for a slight outrage to the goddess you revere, what a worshipper you will have brought back to her temple! Ah, Madame, I appeal only to your reason. Through the conduct that I dare recommend to you, you will bring Franval back forever, you will captivate him for good; he flees through contrariness, he is escaping for good; yes, Madame, I dare to say it, either you do not love your husband, or you must not hesitate.” Madame de Franval, who was very surprised by these words, did not reply for some time; then she spoke, recalling Valmont's looks and his first remarks. “Sir,” she said skillfully, “supposing that I take the advice you give me, on whom do you think I should cast my eyes in order to upset my husband more?” “ah!” cried Valmont, not seeing the trap that was being set for him, “dear, divine friend, on the man who loves you best in all the world, on him who has adored you ever since he has known you, and who swears on his knees that he will die in your service.” “Go, sir, go!' said Madame de Franval then in imperious fashion, “and never appear before me again; your trick is exposed; you only credit my husband with faults, that he is incapable of possessing in order to arrange your treacherous seduction more successfully; understand that even if he were guilty, the methods you suggest to me would be too repugnant for me to use them for one moment; a husband's errors can never justify those of a wife; for her they should become additional reasons for good conduct, so that the just and eternal God may find them in the afflicted cities that are about to suffer the effects of his anger, and may, if he can, turn aside from them the flames that are about to devour them.” With these words Madame de Franval went out, and, asking for Valmont's servants, she obliged him to leave, very much ashamed of the first steps that he had taken. Although this attractive woman had seen through the tricks of Franval's friend, the things he had said corresponded so well with her own fears and with those of her mother, that she decided to put everything into operation in order to convince herself of these hurtful truths. She went to see Madame de Farneille, told her what had happened and came back, determined to proceed as follows. It has long been said, and very rightly so, that we have no greater enemies than our own servants; they are always jealous and envious and apparently try to lighten their burdens by attributing faults to us which place us beneath them and allow their vanity, for a short time at least, to dominate us in the way that fate has denied to them. Madame de Franval had one of Eugenie's women bribed; a guaranteed payment, a pleasant future, the semblance of a good action, everything influenced this minion and she undertook, from the following night, to put Madame de Franval in a position where she would be unable to doubt her misfortune any longer. The moment came. The unfortunate mother was introduced into a small room adjoining the apartment where every night her faithless husband violated both his own marriage ties and Heaven too. Eugenie was with her father; several candles still burned in a corner to illuminate the crime, the altar was prepared, the victim took her place, the high priest followed her. Madame de Franval no longer had any support except her despair, her angry love, her courage. She broke through the doors that held her back and rushed into the apartment; there she fell on her knees before the incestuous man. “Oh,” she cried, addressing Franval, “You are breaking my heart, I did not deserve such treatment from you, you whom I still adore, whatever insults I receive from you, see my tears, and do not reject me; I ask you to spare this unfortunate girl, who, deceived by her weakness and seduced by you, believes she is finding happiness in the midst of shame and crime. Eugenie, Eugenie, do you want to thrust a sword into the bosom that gave you life? No longer be the accomplice in a crime whose horror is concealed from you! Come, hasten, my arms are ready to receive you. See your unfortunate mother, on her knees before you, begging you not to outrage both honor and nature at once. But if you refuse me both,” went on the heartbroken woman, raising a dagger to her heart, “this is the means by which I shall remove myself from the hurt you are trying to inflict upon me; I will spatter you with my blood and it is only over my wretched body that you will be able to consummate your crimes.” That Franval's hardened soul could resist this sight, those who are beginning to know this scoundrel will easily believe; but that Eugenie did not yield in any way is inconceivable. “Madame,” said this corrupt girl, with the most harsh indifference, “I do not regard it as reasonable on your part, I confess, that you should make an absurd scene in front of your husband; can he not do as he pleases? And if he approves of what I do, have you any right to criticize? Do we criticize your indiscretions with Monsieur de Valmont? Do we disturb your pleasures? Kindly respect ours, therefore, or do not be surprised that I am the first to press your husband to take the line which could force you to do so.” At this moment Madame de Franval lost patience, all her anger turned against this unworthy creature who could forget herself so far as to speak to her like this, and, rising in a fury, she hurled herself upon her. But the hateful, cruel Franval, seizing his wife by the hair, dragged her in fury far away from his daughter and from the bedroom, and threw her forcefully down the stairs of the house, until she fell faint and bleeding at the door of one of her women who, awakened by the horrible noise, hastily removed her mistress from the furies of the tyrannical Franval, who had already come down in order to dispatch his unfortunate victim. She was taken to her rooms, locked in and cared for, while the monster, who had just treated her with such rage, rushed back to his detestable companion to spend the night as quietly as though he had not sunk lower than the fiercest beasts, through crimes so execrable, so likely to humiliate him, so horrible in fact that we blush at the necessity to reveal them. No more illusions for the unfortunate Madame de Franval; she could no longer allow herself a single one; it was only too obvious that her husband's heart, that is to say the dearest possession of her life, had been taken away from her, and by whom? By her who owed her the greatest respect, and who had just spoken to her with the greatest insolence; she had also suspected that the whole of the Valmont intrigue was merely a horrible trap for the purpose of putting her in the wrong if possible, and, if not, to attribute faults to her, to inundate her with them, in order to balance and justify thereby the infinitely more serious ones which others dared to incur against her. Nothing was more certain. Franval, informed of Valmont's failure, had pledged him to replace truth by imposture and indiscretion, to spread the story that he was Madame de Franval's lover; and it had been concluded that disgusting letters would be faked which would prove, in the least equivocal manner, the existence of the relation-ship to which this unfortunate wife had refused to lend herself. Madame de Franval however, who was in despair, and even suffering from several injuries, fell seriously ill; her barbarous husband, who refused to see her, not even deigning to enquire about her health, left with Eugenie for the country, on the pretext that there was fever in the house and he did not wish to expose his daughter to it. Valmont presented himself several times at Madame de Franval's door during her illness, but without being admitted once; closeted with her loving mother and Monsieur de Clervil, she saw nobody whatsoever, consoled by such dear friends, who were accustomed to have authority over her, she was restored to life by their care and after six weeks was in a state to see people. Franval then brought his daughter back to Paris and made arrangements with Valmont to provide themselves with weapons equal to those which Madame de Franval and her friends seemed about to level against them. The villainous Franval went to see his wife as soon as he believed her to be in a fit state to receive him. “Madame,” he said to her coldly, “You should have no doubts about the consideration I have shown over your health; I cannot disguise from you the fact that this alone is responsible for Eugenie's reticence; she had decided to bring the strongest charges against you concerning the way in which you treated her; however convinced she may be of the respect which a daughter owes to her mother, she cannot all the same be unaware that the mother puts herself in the worst possible position by hurling herself upon her daughter with a dagger in her hand; hastiness of this kind, Madame, could open the eyes of the government to your conduct and one day could not fail to cause injury to your liberty and your honor.” “I did not expect this recrimination, sir,” replied Madame de Franval, “and when my daughter, seduced by you, renders herself simultaneously guilty of incest, adultery, licentiousness and the most hateful ingratitude towards her who brought her into the world, yes, I admit, I did not imagine that after this complex of horrors it would be for me to fear complaints: all your artifice and evil are required, sir, to excuse the crime with such audacity and accuse an innocent person.” “I am not unaware, Madame, that the pretexts for your scene were the odious suspicions that your dare to form about me, but fantasies do not justify crimes; what you thought is false, but what you have done is unfortunately only too real. You are surprised at the reproaches that my daughter addressed to you concerning your irregular conduct only after the whole of Paris has done so; this state of affairs is so well known, the proofs are unfortunately so consistent, that those who speak about it are guilty at the most of imprudence but not of calumny.” “I, sir,” said this honorable wife, rising indignantly, “I, an intrigue with Valmont? Gracious heavens, and you say that!' She burst into tears. “Ungrateful man! This is the price of my affection, this is the reward for having loved you so much: you are not content with outraging me so cruelly, it is not enough for you to seduce my own daughter, you must still dare to justify your crimes by attributing to me others which I regard as more terrible than death. She collected herself again: “You have proofs of this intrigue sir, you say, bring them out, I demand that they be made public, I will force you to show them to everyone, if you refuse to show them to me.” “No, Madame, I shall certainly not show them to everyone, a husband does not usually announce things of this kind; he bewails them and hides them as carefully as he can; but if you demand them, madame, I will certainly not refuse them to you. He then took a wallet out of his pocket. “Be seated,” he said, “this must be verified with calm, excitement and anger would do harm without convincing me; compose yourself then, I beg you, and let us discuss this coolly.” Madame de Franval, who was perfectly convinced of her innocence, did not know what to think of these preparations and her surprise, mingled with fear, kept her in a state of frenzy. “First of all, Madame,” said Franval, emptying one side of the wallet, “here is your entire correspondence with Valmont during the last six months or so. Do not accuse this young man of imprudence or indiscretion, he is no doubt too honorable to dare fail you on this point. But one of his servants, whose skill exceeds his master's attentiveness, found the secret of procuring for me these precious monuments to your exemplary conduct and your eminent virtue.” He fingered the letters which he scattered on the table. “allow me,” he went on, 'to select from much of the usual chatter of a woman who is excited, by a very attractive man one letter which seemed to me more abandoned and even more decisive than the others. Here it is, Madame: “My tedious husband is taking supper this evening at his petite maison in the outer part of the town with that horrible creature, whom it is impossible I brought into the world; come, my dear, and console me for all the sorrows that those two monsters cause me. What am I saying? Are they not rendering me the greatest possible service at present, and will not this intrigue prevent my husband from noticing ours? Let him then tighten the knots as far as he wishes, but may he not attempt at least to sever those which link me to the only man I have really adored in all the world.” “Well, Madame?” “Well, sir, I admire you,” replied Madame de Franval, “every day adds to the incredible esteem that you deserve; and whatever great qualities I had recognized in you so far, I admit I did not yet know you possessed those of forger and calumniator.” “Are you denying it, then?” “Not at all; I only ask to be convinced; we will have judges appointed, experts, and if you agree, shall we ask for the most severe penalty to be inflicted on whichever one of us shall be found guilty?” “That is what is called effrontery: well, I prefer that to sorrow. Let us proceed. That you have

Rahan. Son of the fierce ages. Episode Sixty Two. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Guy Zam. The share of the Chiefs. The starving child barely had the strength to chew the root. He had no reaction when, remembering the distant days when he, too, had suffered from hunger. The son of Crao approached him. Did you get lost in the forest? Rahan will bring you back to yours, little man! No, O-Naa and Ka-haa ate all the meat. Following the child's footsteps, Rahan came upon arid ground. Men and women were prostrate at the entrance to a cave. Page Two. This little man belongs to your clan, does he not? What unworthy hunters are you to abandon him without food! And where are O-Naa and Ka-Haa who ate all the meat!? I am O-Naa-the-chief. And here is Ka-Haa, the sorcerer, and Trank and Kawi, our best hunters! But who are you, to dare to discuss our custom! Four men came out of the cave. These were sturdy. I am Rahan, the son of Crao! If your custom is to let hunger consume the youngest of the men, then Rahan is against your custom! If the hunting is good, everyone eats their fill. But game is rare! The custom is that the best in the clan eat first! And the “Best” are you! Rahan despises chiefs and sorcerers who do not know how to lead their clan into territories rich in game! Page Three. Trank and Kawi will make you pay for this insolence "Hair-of-Fire"! On an order from the sorcerer, the two sturdy hunters rushed towards the son of Crao. Rahan does not like to fight with "those-who-walk-upright"! But when you force him to. He does not run away from the fight! A rapid blow disarmed Trank. Another thunderbolt threw him to the ground. Argh! Kawi's powerful arms were already surrounding him. Kawi is more loyal! He does not use a knife! But Rahan still has to get rid of him. An admiring clamor arose. Uprooted from the ground, the hunter fluttered over the shoulder of the son of Crao. Page Four. Only O-Naa-the-chief, Ka-Haa the sorcerer and Trank were furious. Your knife, Kawi! Kill! Kill! No! "Fire-hair" did not draw his weapon! He fought fair. And he flattened Kawi! Rahan Is Brave! Kawi will share his meat with him! Rahan had just made an ally, but also three enemies! Before arriving in your territory, Rahan crossed a game-filled forest. He does not want your meat, Kawi! Better yet, he will bring some back for these little men! Which of you will dare to accompany him? The men of the clan remained prostrate. Our clan does not often hear wise words, Rahan! Kawi will go with you! Shortly after, the son of Crao and his new companion plunged deep into the forest. Why do your people not abandon their land without trees? Without game? Ka-Haa says we were born there and we must die there! Page Five. And Kawi spoke of the unjust custom of his clan. From the few animals captured, the chief and the sorcerer first took their share. Trank and himself took theirs! And the others share what’s left. It is often not much. Sometimes it is nothing! Watch out Kawai! Wild boars went this way! Rahan had barely pointed out the tracks when the thickets began to crack. A herd was chasing them! A Herd from which they could only flee! The son of Crao was already in a tree when Kawi, stumbling against a root, fell, fifty steps in front of the "Boars"! He was going to be trampled, crushed, disemboweled! Your hand Kai! Your hand! The hunter who was getting up saw his companion rushing towards him, agile as a "Four-hands" Page Six. He suddenly felt himself being pulled into the void. And the herd broke under him! They stopped and returned under the tree in which the two men had taken refuge. We will escape them by the “Path of Branches”! But we will not return to the cave alone! Oh! Repeating his feat, Rahan plunged into the void. Suspended on the vine, he dangerously brushed against the spines of the large wild boars and seized, in flight, a young boar by the scruff of the neck! A little later. What a misfortune to give up so much meat! We cannot face these "Boars", Kawi! But we will make some come to us! Page Seven. O Naa, Ka-haa, Trank and the others were waiting for their return. A “Marcassin”! for moons O Naa has forgotten the flavor of this flesh! This “Marcassin” comes back to him! O Naa only thinks about filling his belly with good flesh! But Rahan only thinks about these! Tomorrow, the little ones will eat! Kawi had now taken Rahan's side. It was he, who until the end of the day, "Protected" the Marcassin. While the son of Crao made a flexible bow and long arrows. We should have killed them both! Before they give the clan a miracle! As night fell, Rahan and Kawi set out on the lookout. Tied to a tree, the boar growled. Do you think they will come? "They” will come! They always come! Page Eight. It was a long wait but, at daybreak, a pair of great boars emerged out of the forest. The animals cautiously approached the boar, scenting it with their snouts. When they sensed the danger, it was too late. Ra-ha-ha! Rahan's arrow and Kawi's spear had flown away at the same time! Both attained their goal! The animals were heavy. The two companions were only able to bring one back to the cave. That is enough to feed the whole clan! And you will find another Boar at the entrance to the forest! The son of Crao expected an ovation. But everyone remained worried. He suddenly understood They fear being wronged by O Naa and Ka-haa! Page Nine. The chief and the sorcerer, in fact, were already preparing to cut up the boar. Stop! It was Rahan who killed the Boar! He is the one who will do the sharing! A moment later, the ivory knife cut into the flesh. Sharing will be fair! Everyone will receive the same share! Ha-ha-ha! You want to deceive the clan, “Fire-hair”! A large piece sometimes contains less flesh than a small one! What Proof will we have that your shares will be equal!? The son of Crao thought. How to make the sharing indisputably equitable? And suddenly. Rahan knows how to convince you! Two scenes came back to his mind. A game that the children of the Blue Mountain sometimes played on a tree trunk. And the scene where he was held above the void by a rock that made Exactly his weight. Page Ten. Combining the two ideas, he conceived of a rudimentary balance. He placed two pieces of meat there, which he estimated to be of the same weight. Ha-ha-ha! But this first attempt was disappointing. The scale, mis-centered, leaned towards the smallest piece! And this object proves nothing! If you had not brought back a Boar, you would deserve to have your skull broken, like this. The heavy ax fell on one end of the scale, throwing the piece of meat placed at the other end very high! But the son of Crao did not despair. He realized the cause of his failure. The arm of the scale was not perfectly centered! Page Eleven. This time you will no longer betray Rahan! It was easy for him, despite some trial and error, to discover the exact point of balance At this point, he notched the bamboo. The notch which would serve as a reference and would facilitate the pendulum movement. O Naa can now cut himself the piece of meat he wants! The chef feverishly cut a large wedge of flesh. It is yours, O Naa! But everyone will have the same, just as your share! A moment later the son of Crao preceded with the sharing. He added or subtracted carefully to balance each part with that of the chef who served as tare. And the cave clan, that day, could satisfy its hunger. Thanks to the wonderful "Bamboo-of-justice", Rahan has gained the trust of my brothers! Page Twelve. But he has attracted the hatred of O Naa, Ka-haa and Trank! The three men indeed stayed away and considered with bad things. The “Bamboo-of-justice” is evil for all three of us! We must send "Fire-hair" to the territory of shadows and return to our custom! Killing Rahan will be difficult! Look, the clan almost considers him a leader! Patience! An opportunity will present itself! That day, a joyful group brought back the second Boar from the forest. And it is possible to do even better brothers! Rahan saw, five arrow flights from here, a deep pit. It can become a trap for large beasts! Page thirteen. Impatient to put this idea into practice, the son of Crao went to this pit at dawn. It will take large bamboos and lots of palm fronds to hide it! The pit was deep. Its wall, worn by time, was as smooth as his ivory knife. He immediately got to work, going to the nearby forest and cutting very long bamboos. He did not know that O-Naa, Ka-Haa and Trank had followed Him He is alone and we are far from the cave! This is the opportunity we've been waiting for! Rahan had just placed his load of bamboo when the trio appeared. He did not even have time to face them! Ha-ra! Page Fourteen. Ha-Ha-HA! Everyone in the clan will believe it was an “Accident”! Poor “Fire-hair” who “slipped” into the trap he was preparing! Although the shock was severe, he was only stunned. And O-Naa's laughter reached him. Then he caught a glimpse of Trank's silhouette. Oh! He is still alive! We must finish him! If We do not kill him, the clan will save him from the trap and he will tell everything! We have to kill him with these rocks! No vines, or any projections allowed the son of Crao to escape from the granite trap. And big stones started to fall. Which he tried to avoid by pressing himself against the wall. O-Naa, Ka-Haa and Trank are cowards! Page Fifteen. Only laughter answered him while rocks continued to fall, bigger and bigger. To avoid one of them, Rahan jumped and stumbled against one of the trunks that lay at the bottom of the pit. Oh! The bamboo of justice! This trunk had just reminded him of the scales. The ax blow of O Naa. The quarter of meat thrown into the air! If the Trunk holds, Rahan could also be thrown out of the trap! He placed the trunk on the support which would allow the rocking effect. And when the trio was silhouetted against the sky, pushing a huge rock, he moved the trunk so that it would be exactly where the projectile would fall. Page Sixteen. When the rock fell, he was already at the end of the trunk, Legs extended to help propulsion. And it was extraordinary, fantastic. The son of Crao was thrown skyward like a volcanic bomb! Ra-ha-ha! You will pay for your perfidiousness! The three dumb-founded men saw him spring out of the pit and fall right in front of them. The Trio, panicked by the incredible feat, wanted to flee. But Rahan was faster! Argh! No! Argh! O-Naa was the first to be thrown into the hole. Page Seventeen. He had barely reached the bottom before Ka-Haa joined him there! Argh! The Clan will decide your fate! By momentarily forgetting Tank, the son of Crao made a mistake! Because he was turning, his back to the scoundrel who, thirty paces away, was about to throw his long spear! “Fire-hair” will die! A scream made Rahan suddenly turn around. And he saw Trank falling down, with an arrow in his side! Argh! He saw Kawi emerging from behind a rock. Kawi has arrived just in time! This is the first time he has used this weapon! Rahan could not have done better than Kawi! Page Eighteen. A little later, Kawi informed the Clan. Rahan hunted for us, and these three scoundrels wanted to kill him cowardly! May they be forever banished from the clan! O-Naa and the Sorcerer, at the bottom of the pit, called out for help. Their clamors reached as far as the cave. Hear them, Kawi. Maybe we could. Kawi hears nothing! And you, my friends, do you hear anything? The clan hears nothing! And the clan, from now on, will obey Kawi! The son of Crao knew that O-Naa and Ka-Haa were condemned! In those wild times, the justice of “Those Who Walk Upright” could be implacable! When Rahan left these men, the new leader accompanied him to the hills. Goodbye, Brother! Mine will never forget you! And Kawi will follow your wise advice! He will lead the clan to the lands of game. And never again will meat be shared other than with the “Bamboo-of-justice”! Farewell! Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

THE THIRD PARTITION, LOVE-MELANCHOLY. https://rumble.com/v4d2ddr-anatomy-of-melancholy-part-1-of-4-introduction.-a-puke-tm-audiobook.html https://rumble.com/v4dgu6o-the-anatomy-of-melancholy-2-of-4-the-first-partition-by-robert-burton-1621..html https://rumble.com/v4dh2lr-anatomy-of-melancholy-part-3-of-4-partition-2.-a-puke-tm-audiobook.html THE FIRST SECTION, MEMBER, SUBSECTION. The Preface. There will not be wanting, I presume, one or other that will much discommend some part of this treatise of love-melancholy, and object, which Erasmus in his preface to Sir Thomas More suspects of him) "that it is too light for a divine, too comical a subject to speak of love symptoms, too fantastical, and fit alone for a wanton poet, a feeling young lovesick gallant, an effeminate courtier, or some such idle person.” And tis true they say: for by the naughtiness of men it is so come to pass, as Caussinus observes, that the voice of love is suspicious to the chaste ears, and despised, the very name of love is odious to chaste ears; and therefore some again, out of an affected gravity, will dislike all for the name's sake before they read a word; dissembling with him in Petronius, and seem to be angry that their ears are violated with such obscene speeches, that so they may be admired for grave philosophers and staid carriage. They cannot abide to hear talk of love toys, or amorous discourses, averse in their outward actions with face, gesture, and eyes, and yet in their thoughts they are all out as bad, if not worse than others. “In Brutus' presence Lucretia blushed and laid my book aside; when he retired, she took it up again and read.” But let these cavillers and counterfeit Catos know, that as the Lord John answered the Queen in that Italian Guazzo, an old, a grave discreet man is fittest to discourse of love matters, because he hath likely more experience, observed more, hath a more staid judgment, can better discern, resolve, discuss, advise, give better cautions, and more solid precepts, better inform his hearers in such a subject, and by reason of his riper years sooner diverge. Besides, there is nothing to be feared in this voice of love, there is nothing here to be excepted at; love is a species of melancholy, and a necessary part of this my treatise, which I may not omit; the work undertaken was to be served: so Jacobus Mysillius pleads for himself in his translation of Lucian's dialogues, and so do I; I must and will perform my task. And that short excuse of Mercerus, for his edition of Aristaenetus shall be mine, "If I have spent my time ill to write, let not them be so idle as to read." But I am persuaded it is not so ill spent, I ought not to excuse or repent myself of this subject; on which many grave and worthy men have written whole volumes, Plato, Plutarch, Plotinus, Maximus, Tyrius, Alcinous, Avicenna, Leo the Hebrew in three large dialogues, Xenophon symposium. Theophrastus, if we may believe Athenaeus, Picus Mirandula, Marius, Aequicola, both in Italian, Kornmannus de linea Amoris, book three, Petrus Godefridus hath handled in three books, P. Haedus, and which almost every physician, as Arnoldus, Villanovanus, Valleriola, Aelian Montaltus and Laurentius in their treatises of melancholy, Jason Pratensis, Valescus of Taranta, Gordonius, Hercules of Saxony, Savanarola, Langius, and more, have treated separately, and in their works. I excuse myself, therefore, with Peter Godefridus, Valleriola, Ficinus, and in Langius' words. Cadmus Milesius writes fourteen books of love, "and why should I be ashamed to write an epistle in favor of young men, of this subject?" A company of stern readers dislike the second of the Aeneids, and Virgil's gravity, for inserting such amorous passions in an heroic subject; but Servius, his commentator, justly vindicates the poet's worth, wisdom, and discretion in doing as he did. Castalius would not have young men read the Canticles, because to his thinking it was too light and amorous a tract, a ballad of ballads, as our old English translation hath it. He might as well forbid the reading of Genesis, because of the loves of Jacob and Rachael, the stories of Shechem and Dinah, Judah and Tamar; reject the Book of Numbers, for the fornications of the people of Israel with the Moabites; that of Judges for Samson and Dalilah's embracings; that of the Kings, for David and Beersheba's adulteries, the incest of Ammon and Tamar, Solomon's concubines, and more. The stories of Esther, Judith, Susanna, and many such. Dicearchus, and some others, carp at Plato's majesty, that he would vouchsafe to indite such love toys: amongst the rest, for that dalliance with Agatho, While I was giving Agathon sweet things, I held my soul in my lips; For the patient was hurrying as if he were going away. For my part, says Maximus Tyrius, a great Platonist himself, not only admires me, but stuns him, I do not only admire, but stand amazed to read, that Plato and Socrates both should expel Homer from their city, because he writes of such light and wanton subjects, Which brings Juno with Jove in Ida reclining, Covered by an immortal cloud, Vulcan's net. Mars and Venus' fopperies before all the gods, because Apollo fled, when he was persecuted by Achilles, the gods were wounded and ran whining away, as Mars that roared louder than Stentor, and covered nine acres of ground with his fall ; Vulcan was a summer's day falling down from heaven, and in Lemnos Isle brake his leg, and more, with such ridiculous passages; when, as both Socrates and Plato, by his testimony, write lighter themselves: for what is so distant, as he follows it, than a lover from a temperate man, an admirer of forms from a madman, what can be more absurd than for grave philosophers to treat of such fooleries, to admire Autiloquus, Alcibiades, for their beauties as they did, to run after, to gaze, to dote on fair Phaedrus, delicate Agatho, young Lysis, fine Charmides, what befits a Philosopher? Doth this become grave philosophers? To this peradventure Callias, Thrasimachus, Polus, Aristophanes, or some of his adversaries and emulators might object; but neither they nor Anytus and Melitus his bitter enemies, that condemned him for teaching Critias to tyrannise, his impiety for swearing by dogs and plain trees, for his juggling sophistry, and more, never so much as upbraided him with impure love, writing or speaking of that subject; and therefore without question, as he concludes, both Socrates and Plato in this are justly to be excused. But suppose they had been a little overlooked, should divine Plato be defamed? no, rather as he said of Cato's drunkenness, if Cato were drunk, it should be no vice at all to be drunk. They reprove Plato then, but without cause, as and more Ficinus pleads, "for all love is honest and good, and they are worthy to be loved that speak well of love." Being to speak of this admirable affection of love, saith Valleriola, “there lies open a vast and philosophical field to my discourse, by which many lovers become mad; let me leave my more serious meditations, wander in these philosophical fields, and look into those pleasant groves of the Muses, where with unspeakable variety of flowers, we may make garlands to ourselves, not to adorn us only, but with their pleasant smell and juice to nourish our souls, and fill our minds desirous of knowledge," and more. After a harsh and unpleasing discourse of melancholy, which hath hitherto molested your patience, and tired the author, give him leave with Godefridus the lawyer, and Laurentius, chapter 5, to recreate himself in this kind after his laborious studies, "since so many grave divines and worthy men have without offense to manners, to help themselves and others, voluntarily written of it." Heliodorus, a bishop, penned a love story of Theagines and Chariclea, and when some Catos of his time reproached him for it, chose rather, says Nicephorus, to leave his bishopric than his book. Aeneas Sylvius, an ancient divine, and past forty years of age, as he confesseth himself, after Pope Pius Secundus, indited that wanton history of Euryalus and Lucretia. And how many superintendents of learning could I reckon up that have written of light fantastical subjects? Beroaldus, Erasmus, Alpheratius, twenty-four times printed in Spanish, and more. Give me leave then to refresh my muse a little, and my weary readers, to expatiate in this delightful field, this field of delights, as Fonseca terms it, to season a surly discourse with a more pleasing aspersion of love matters: Edulcare it suits life, as the poet invites us, cares for toys, and more, tis good to sweeten our life with some pleasing toys to relish it, and as Pliny tells us, a large part of the students seek amenities, most of our students love such pleasant subjects. Although Macrobius teaches us otherwise, "that those old sages banished all such light tracts from their studies, to nurse's cradles, to please only the ear;" yet out of Apuleius I will oppose as honorable patrons, Solon, Plato, Xenophon, Adrian, and more. that as highly approve of these treatises. On the other side I think they are not to be disliked, they are not so unfit. I will not peremptorily say as one did I will tell you such pretty stories, that foul befall him that is not pleased with them; Nor will I say that I have heard those things which are of use to you, and remember them for pleasure, with that confidence, as Beroaldus doth his narrations on Propertius. I will not expert or hope for that approbation, which Lipsius gives to his Epictetus; I do more when I read; always as new, and when I have repeated, to be repeated, the more I read, the more shall I covet to read. I will not press you with my pamphlets, or beg attention, but if you like them you may. Pliny holds it expedient, and most fit, to season severity with delight even in writings, to season our works with some pleasant discourse; Synesius approves of it, though he may play in games; and there be those, without question, that are more willing to read such toys, than I am to write: “Let me not live,” says Aretine's Antonia, “If I had not rather hear thy discourse, than see a play?” No doubt but there be more of her mind, ever have been, ever will be, as Jerome bears me witness. A far greater part had rather read Apuleius than Plato: Tully himself confesseth he could not understand Plato's Timaeus, and therefore cared less for it: but every schoolboy hath that famous testament of Grunnius Corocotta Porcellus at his fingers' ends. The comic poet. “This he took to be his only business, that the plays which he wrote should please the people.” made this his only care and sole study to please the people, tickle the ear, and to delight; but my earnest intent is as much to profit as to please; not so much to please the people, as to help the people, and these my writings, I hope, shall take like gilded pills, which are so composed as well to tempt the appetite, and deceive the palate, as to help and medicinally work upon the whole body my lines shall not only recreate, but rectify the mind. I think I have said enough; if not, let him that is otherwise minded, remember that of Maudarensis, "he was in his life a philosopher", as Ausonius apologizeth for him, "in his epigrams a lover, in his precepts most severe; in his letter to Caerelia, a wanton." Annianus, Sulpicius, Evemus, Menander, and many old poets besides, did itch in writing, wrote Fescennines, Atellans, and lascivious songs; happy matter; yet they had in their manners censure and severity, they were chaste, severe, and upright livers. “The poet himself should be chaste and pious, but his verses need not imitate him in these respects; they may therefore contain wit and humour.” I am of Catullus' opinion, and make the same apology on my own behalf; This, too, that I write, generally depends on the opinion and authority of others; nor perhaps I myself am mad, but I follow those who are mad. And it is granted that this drives me mad; We have all gone mad at one time, and I certainly think I am going mad at one time, and he, and he, and I, of course. I am a man, I think nothing alien to the human being from me: And which he urges for himself, accused of the like fault, I as justly plead, The page is lewd to us, life is a trial. However my lines err, my life is honest, life is shameful, my muse is jocular. But I presume I need no such apologies, I need not, as Socrates in Plato, cover his face when he spoke of love, or blush and hide mine eyes, as Pallas did in her hood, when she was consulted by Jupiter about Mercury's marriage, that, when a virgin is consulted upon marriage, it is no such lascivious, obscene, or wanton discourse; I have not offended your chaster ears with anything that is here written, as many French and Italian authors in their modern language of late have done, nay some of our Latin pontifical writers, Zanches, Asorius, Abulensis, Burchardus, and more, whom Rivet accuseth to be more lascivious than Virgil in Priapeiis, Petronius in Catalectis, Aristophanes in Lycistratae, Martialis, or any other pagan profane writer, who so atrociously, one notes, sinned in this manner that many ingenious writings were staged obscenities for the sake of chastity their minds are abhorred. Tis not scurrile this, but chaste, honest, most part serious, and even of religion itself. "Incensed"m as he said, "with the love of finding love, we have sought it, and found it." More yet, I have augmented and added something to this light treatise if light, which was not in the former editions, I am not ashamed to confess it, with a good author, that most people demanded that this subject be extended and enriched and being defeated by their importunity, I brought my mind, however resisting, to such an extent that I took up the pen in my hand for the sixth time, and girded myself with writing far from my studies and profession, having spared some hours in the meantime from my serious occupations, and dedicating them as a sort of game and recreation; “I am compelled to reverse my sails, and retrace my former course.” Although I was not unaware that perhaps new detractors would not be lacking in these new interpolations of mine. And thus much I have thought good to say by way of preface, lest any man, which Godefridus feared in his book, should blame in me lightness, wantonness, rashness, in speaking of love's causes, enticements, symptoms, remedies, lawful and unlawful loves, and lust itself, I speak it only to tax and deter others from it, not to teach, but to show the vanities and fopperies of this heroic or Herculean love, and to apply remedies unto it. I will treat of this with like liberty as of the rest. “What I tell you, do you tell to the multitude, and make this treatise gossip like an old woman.” Condemn me not a good reader then, or censure me hardly, if some part of this treatise to thy thinking as yet be too light; but consider better of it; Everything is clean, a naked man to a modest woman is no otherwise than a picture, as Augusta Livia truly said, and a bad mind, a bad mind, tis as tis taken. If in thy censure it be too light, I advise thee, as Lipsius did his reader for some places of Plautus, to pass over these rocks as the Sirens, if they like thee not, let them pass; or oppose that which is good to that which is bad, and therefore reject not all. For to invert that verse of Martial, and with Hierom Wolfius to apply it to my present purpose, there are evils, there are some mediocre ones, there are more good things; some are good, some bad, some are indifferent. I say further with him yet, I have inserted, I am not burdened to write down some light and funny things, some from the theaters, from the streets, even from restaurants, some things more homely, light, or comical, litans graces, and more, which I would request every man to interpret to the best, and as Julius Caesar Scaliger besought Cardan. I beseech thee, good reader, not to mistake me, or misconstrue what is here written; By the Muses and the Charites, and all the deities of the poets, I beseech thee, kindly reader, take me not wrong. Tis a comical subject; in sober sadness I crave pardon of what is lost, and desire thee to suspend thy judgment, wink at small faults, or to be silent at least; but if thou likest, speak well of it, and wish me good success. Arethusa grant me this last labour. I am resolved however, whether you like it or not, to boldly enter the stadium, in the Olympics, with those Aeliensian wrestlers in Philostratus, boldly to show myself in this common stage, and in this tragicomedy of love, to act several parts, some satirically, some comically, some in a mixed tone, as the subject I have in hand gives occasion, and the present scene shall require, or offer itself. Subsection two. Love's Beginning, Object, Definition, Division. "Love's limits are ample and great, and a spacious walk it hath, beset with thorns," and for that cause, which Scaliger reprehends in Cardan, "not lightly to be passed over." Lest I incur the same censure, I will examine all the kinds of love, its nature, beginning, difference, objects, how it is honest or dishonest, a virtue or vice, a natural passion, or a disease, its power and effects, how far it extends: of which, although something has been said in the first partition, in those sections of disturbances, "for love and hatred are the first and most common passions, from which all the rest arise, and are attendant ," as Picolomineus holds, or as Nicholas Caussinus, the first mobile of all other affections, which carry them all about them, I will now more copiously dilate, through all his parts and several branches, that so it may better appear what love is, and how it varies with the objects, how in defect, or, which is most ordinary and common, immoderate, and in excess, causes melancholy. Love universally taken, is defined to be a desire, as a word of more ample signification: and though Leo the Hebrew, the most copious writer of this subject, in his third dialogue make no difference, yet in his first he distinguishes them again, and you define love by giving up. “Love is a voluntary affection, and desire to enjoy that which is good. Desire wishes, love enjoys; the end of the one is the beginning of the other; that which we love is present; that which we leave is absent.” "It is worth the labor," says Plotinus, "to consider the well of love, whether it be a god or a devil, or passion of the mind, or partly god, partly devil, partly passion." He concludes love to participate of all three, to arise from desire of that which is beautiful and fair, and defines it to be "an action of the mind desiring that which is good." Plato calls it the great devil, for its vehemency, and sovereignty over all other passions, and defines it an appetite, "by which we desire some good to be present." Ficinus in his commentary adds the word fair to this definition. Love is a desire of enjoying that which is good and fair. Austin expands this common definition, and will have love to be a delight of the heart, "for something which we seek to win, or joy to have, coveting by desire, resting in joy." Scaliger taxeth these former definitions, and will not have love to be defined by desire or appetite; "for when we enjoy the things we desire, there remains no more appetite:" as he defines it, "Love is an affection by which we are either united to the thing we love, or perpetuate our union;" which agrees in part with Leo Hebreus. Now this love varies as its object varies, which is always good, amiable, fair, gracious, and pleasant. "Desire all things that which is good," as we are taught in the Ethics, or at least that which to them seems to be good; for what do you mean by evil, as Austin well brings, tell me? I think nothing in all actions; thou wilt wish no harm, I suppose, no ill in all thine actions, thoughts or desires; thou wilt not have bad corn, bad soil, a naughty tree, but all good; a good servant, a good horse, a good son, a good friend, a good neighbor, a good wife. From this goodness comes beauty; from beauty, grace, and comeliness, which result as so many rays from their good parts, make us to love, and so to covet it: for were it not pleasing and gracious in our eyes, we should not seek. "No man loves", saith Aristotle, "but he that was first delighted with comeliness and beauty." As this fair object varies, so doth our love; for as Proclus holds, Every fair thing is amiable, and what we love is fair and gracious in our eyes, or at least we do so apprehend and still esteem it. "Amiableness is the object of love, the scope and end is to obtain it, for whose sake we love, and which our mind covets to enjoy." And it seems to us especially fair and good; for good, fair, and unity, cannot be separated. Beauty shines, says Plato, and by reason of its splendor and shining causes admiration; and the fairer the object is, the more eagerly it is sought. For as the same Plato defines it, “Beauty is a lively, shining or glittering brightness, resulting from effused good, by ideas, seeds, reasons, shadows, stirring up our minds, that by this good they may be united and make one." Others will have beauty to be the perfection of the whole composition, "caused out of the congruous symmetry, measure, order and manner of parts, and that comeliness which proceeds from this beauty is called grace, and from then all fair things are gracious.” For grace and beauty are so wonderfully annexed, “so sweetly and gently win our souls, and strongly allure, that they confound our judgment and cannot be distinguished. Beauty and grace are like those beams and shinings that come from the glorious and divine sun," which are diverse, as they proceed from the diverse objects, to please and affect our several senses. "As the species of beauty are taken at our eyes, ears, or conceived in our inner soul," as Plato disputes at large in his Dialogue de pulchro, Phaedro, Hyppias, and after many sophistical errors refuted, concludes that beauty it is a grace in all things, delighting the eyes, ears, and soul itself; so that, as Valesius infers hence, whatever pleases our ears, eyes, and soul, must needs be beautiful, fair, and delightful to us." And nothing can more please our ears than music, or pacify our minds." Fair houses, pictures, orchards, gardens, fields, a fair hawk, a fair horse is most acceptable to us; whatever pleases our eyes and ears, we call beautiful and fair; "Pleasure belongs to the rest of the senses, but grace and beauty to these two alone." As the objects vary and are diverse, so they differently affect our eyes, ears, and soul itself. Which gives occasion to some to make so many several kinds of love as there be objects. One beauty arises from God, of which and divine love S Dionysius, with many fathers and neoterics, have written just volumes, De amore Dei, as they term it, many paraenetical discourses; another from these creatures; there is a beauty of the body, a beauty of the soul, a beauty from virtue, the form of martyrs, Austin calls it, which we see with the eyes of our mind; which beauty, as Tully says, if we could discern with these corporeal eyes, would cause admirable affections, and ravish our souls. This other beauty which arises from those extreme parts, and graces which proceed from gestures, speeches, several motions, and proportions of creatures, men and women, especially from women, which made those old poets put the three graces still in Venus' company, as attending on her, and holding up her train, are infinite almost, and vary their names with their objects, as love of money, covetousness, love of beauty, lust, immoderate desire of any pleasure, concupiscence, friendship, love, goodwill, and more, and is either virtue or vice, honest, dishonest, in excess, defect, as shall be shown in his place. Heroic love, religious love, and more, which may be reduced to a twofold division, according to the principal parts which are affected, the brain and liver. Love and friendship, which Scalinger, Valesius and Melancthon warrant out of Plato They kiss and they are from that speech of Pausanias belike, that makes two Venuses and two loves. “One Venus is ancient without a mother, and descended from heaven, whom we call celestial; the younger, begotten of Jupiter and Dione, whom we commonly call Venus.” Ficinus, in his commentary upon this place. Following Plato, he calls these two loves, two devils, or good and bad angels according to us, which are still hovering about our souls. “The one rears to heaven, the other depresses us to hell; the one good, which stirs us up to the contemplation of that divine beauty for whose sake we perform justice and all godly offices, study philosophy, and else; the other base, and though bad yet to be respected; for indeed both are good in their own natures: procreation of children is as necessary as that finding out of truth, but therefore called bad, because it is abused, and withdraws our souls from the speculation of that other to baser objects," so far Ficinus. Saint Austin, book fifteen of the city God and Psalm sixty four, hath delivered as much in effect. “Every creature is good, and may be loved well or ill,” and “Two cities make two loves, Jerusalem and Babylon, the love of God the one, the love of the world the other; of these two cities we all are citizens, as by examination of ourselves we may soon find, and of which." The one love is the root of all mischief, the other of all good. So, in his de moribus ecclesiae, he will have those four cardinal virtues to be naught else but love rightly composed; in his book the city of god, he calls virtue the order of love, whom Thomas follows. He confirms as much, and amplifies in many words. Lucian, to the same purpose, hath a division of his own, "One love was born in the sea, which is as various and raging in young men's breasts as the sea itself, and causes burning lust: the other is that golden chain which was let down from heaven, and with a divine fury ravisheth our souls, made to the image of God, and stirs us up to comprehend the innate and incorruptible beauty to which we were once created." Beroaldus has expressed all this in an epigram of his: If divine Plato's tenets they be true, Two Veneres, two loves there be, The one from heaven, unbegotten still, Which knits our souls in unity. The other famous over all the world, Binding the hearts of gods and men; Dishonest, wanton, and seducing she, Rules whom she will, both where and when. This twofold division of love, Origen likewise follows, in his Commentary on the Canticles, one from God, the other from the devil, as he holds, understanding it in the worse sense, which many others repeat and imitate. Both which, to omit all subdivisions, in excess or defect, as they are abused, or degenerate, cause melancholy in a particular kind, as shall be shown in his place. Austin, in another Tract, makes a threefold division of this love, which we may use well or ill: “God, our neighbor, and the world: God above us, our neighbor next us, the world beneath us. In the course of our desires, God hath three things, the world one, our neighbor two. Our desire for God, is either from God, with God, or to God, and ordinarily so runs. From God, when it receives from him, whence, and for which it should love him: with God, when it contradicts his will in nothing: to God, when it seeks to him, and rests itself in him. Our love to our neighbor may proceed from him, and run with him, not to him: from him, as when we rejoice of his good safety, and well doing: with him, when we desire to have him a fellow and companion of our journey in the way of the Lord: not in him, because there is no aid, hope, or confidence in man. From the world our love comes, when we begin to admire the Creator in his works, and glorify God in his creatures: with the world it should run, if, according to the mutability of all temporalities, it should be dejected in adversity, or over elevated in prosperity: to the world, if it would settle itself in its vain delights and studies.” Many such partitions of love I could repeat, and subdivisions, but at least, which Scaliger objects to Cardan. "I confound filthy burning lust with pure and divine love," I will follow that accurate division of Leon Hebreus, betwixt Sophia and Philo, where he speaks of natural, sensible, and rational love, and handles each apart. Natural love or hatred, is that sympathy or antipathy which is to be seen in animate and inanimate creatures, in the four elements, metals, stones, heavy tend downwards, as a stone to his center, fire upward, and rivers to the sea. The sun, moon, and stars go still around, Lovers of nature, exercise dues, for love of perfection. This love is manifest, I say, in inanimate creatures. How do you eat a loadstone to draw iron to it? Jet chaff? The ground to covet showers, but for love? No creature, concludes Saint Jerome, is to be found that does not love anything, no stock, no stone, that hath not some feeling of love, Tis more eminent in plants, herbs, and is especially observed in vegetables; as between the vine and elm a great sympathy, between the vine and the cabbage, between the vine and the olive, Virgo flees Bromium, between the vine and bays a great antipathy, the vine loves not the bay, "nor his smell, and will kill him, if he grow near him;" the bur and the lentil cannot endure one another, the olive and the myrtle embrace each other, in roots and branches if they grow near. Read more of this in Picolominius, Crescentius, Baptista Porta, Fracastorius of the love and hatred of planets, consult with every astrologer. Leo Hebreus gives many fabulous reasons, and moralises them withal. Sensible love is that of brute beasts, of which the same Hebreus assigns these causes. First for the pleasure they take in the act of generation, male and female love one another. Secondly, for the preservation of the species, and desire of young brood. Thirdly, for the mutual agreement, as being of the same kind, in one another's company, Ants are welcome, cicadas cicadas, and birds of a feather will gather together. Fourthly, for custom, use, and familiarity, as if a dog be trained up with a lion and a bear, contrary to their natures, they will love each other. Hawks, dogs, horses, love their masters and keepers: many stories I could relate in this kind, but see Gillius, those two Epistles of Lipsius, of dogs and horses, Agellius, and more. Fifthly, for bringing up, as if a bitch brings up a kid, a hen ducklings, a hedge-sparrow a cuckoo, and more. The third kind is love of knowledge, as Leon calls it, rational love, intellectual love, and is proper to men, on which I must insist. This appears in God, angels, men. God is love itself, the fountain of love, the disciple of love, as Plato styles him; the servant of peace, the God of love and peace; have peace with all men and God is with you. Whoever worships Olympus, He submits to himself the world and God. "By this love", saith Gerson, "we purchase heaven," and buy the kingdom of God. This love is either in the Trinity itself, for the Holy Ghost is the love of the Father and the Son, and more. John three, 35, and verse 20, and fourteen, 31, or towards us his creatures, as in making the world. Love made the world, love built cities, soul of the world, invented arts, sciences, and all good things, incites us to virtue and humanity, combines and quickens; keeps peace on earth, quietness by sea, mirth in the winds and elements, expels all fear, anger, and rusticity; A round circle still from good to good; for love is the beginning and end of all our actions, the efficient and instrumental cause, as our poets in their symbols, impressions, emblems of rings, squares, and more, shadow unto us, If first and last of anything you wit, Cease; love's the sole and only cause of it. Love, says Leo, made the world, and afterwards in redeeming it, "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son for it," John three, 16. "Behold what love the Father hath shown on us, that we should be called the sons of God," first John three, 1. Or by His sweet Providence, in protecting of it; either all in general, or His saints elect and church in particular, whom He keeps as the apple of His eye, whom He loves freely, as Hosea fourteen, 5. speaks, and dearly respects, A man is dearer to them than to himself. Not that we are fair, nor for any merit or grace of ours, for we are most vile and base; but out of His incomparable love and goodness, out of His Divine Nature. And this is that Homer's golden chain, which reaches down from heaven to earth, by which every creature is annexed, and depends on his Creator. He made all, says Moses, "and it was good;" He loves it as well. The love of angels and living souls is mutual amongst themselves, towards us militant in the church, and all such as love God; as the sunbeams irradiate the earth from those celestial thrones, they by their well wishes reflect on us, in promoting the salvation of men zealous and constant servants, there is joy in heaven for every sinner that repenteth; they pray for us, are solicitous for our good, Chaste geniuses. “Where charity prevails, sweet desire, joy, and love towards God are also present.” Love proper to mortal men is the third member of this subdivision, and the subject of my following discourse. Member two. Subsection one. Love of Men, which varies as his Objects, Profitable, Pleasant, Honest. Valesius defines this love which is in men, "to be an affection of both powers, appetite and reason." The rational resides in the brain, the other in the liver, as before hath been said out of Plato and others; the heart is variously affected by both, and carried a thousand ways by consent. The sensitive faculty most part overrules reason, the soul is carried hoodwinked, and the understanding captive like a beast. "The heart is variously inclined, sometimes they are merry, sometimes sad, and from love arise hope and fear, jealousy, fury, despair." Now this love of men is diverse, and varies, as the object varies, by which they are enticed, as virtue, wisdom, eloquence, profit, wealth, money, fame, honor, or comeliness of person, and more. Leo Hubreus, in his first dialogue, reduces them all to these three, profitable, pleasant, honest; out of Aristotle, of which he discourseth at large, and whatever is beautiful and fair, is referred to them, or any way to be desired. "To profitable is ascribed health, wealth, honor, and else, which is rather ambition, desire, covetousness, than love:" friends, children, love of women, all delightful and pleasant objects, are referred to the second. The love of honest things consists in virtue and wisdom, and is preferred before that which is profitable and pleasant: intellectual, about that which is honest. Saint Austin calls it “profitable, worldly; pleasant, carnal; honest, spiritual Of and from all three, result charity, friendship, and true love, which respects God and our neighbor." Of each of these I will briefly dilate, and show in what sort they cause melancholy. Amongst all these fair enticing objects, which procure love, and bewitch the soul of man, there is none so moving, so forcible as profit; and that which carries with it a show of commodity. Health indeed is a precious thing, to recover and preserve which we will undergo any misery, drink bitter potions, freely give our goods: restore a man to his health, his purse lies open to thee, bountiful he is, thankful and beholding to thee ; but give him wealth and honor, give him gold, or what shall be for his advantage and preference, and thou shalt command his affections, oblige him eternally to thee, heart, hand, life, and all is at thy service, thou art his dear and loving friend, good and gracious lord and master, these Meccans; he is thy slave, thy vassal, most devoted, affectioned, and bound in all duty: tell him good tidings in this kind, there spoke an angel, a blessed hour that brings in gain, he is thy creature, and thou his creator, he hugs and admires you; he is thine for ever. No loadstone so attractive as that of profit, none so fair an object as this of gold; nothing wins a man sooner than a good turn, bounty and liberality command body and soul: Good turns doth pacify both God and men, And Jupiter himself is won by them. Gold of all others is a most delicious object; a sweet light, a goodly luster it hath; Austin says, and we had rather see it than the sun. Sweet and pleasant in getting, in keeping; it seasons all our labors, intolerable pains we take for it, base employments, endure bitter flouts and taunts, long journeys, heavy burdens, all are made light and easy by this hope of gain. in the box The sight of gold refresheth our spirits, and ravisheth our hearts, as that Babylonian garment and golden wedge did Achan in the camp, the very sight and hearing sets on fire his soul with desire of it. It will make a man run to the antipodes, or tarry at home and turn parasite, lie, flatter, prostitute himself, swear and bear false witness; he will venture his body, kill a king, murder his father, and damn his soul to come at it. A more beautiful mass of gold, as he well observed, the mass of gold is fairer than all your Grecian pictures, that Apelles, Phidias, or any doting painter could ever make: we are enamored with it, Almost the first vows, and best known to all the temples, Wealth to grow. All our labours, studies, endeavours, vows, prayers and wishes, are to get, how to compass it. This is the one to whom the greatest world serves, The powerful diva of things, and the mistress of fate's money. “This is the great goddess we adore and worship; this is the sole object of our desire.” If we have it, as we think, we are made for ever, thrice happy, princes, lords, and else. If we lose it, we are dull, heavy, dejected, discontented, miserable, desperate, and mad. Our estate and well-being ebbs and flows with our commodity; and as we are endowed or enriched, so are we beloved and esteemed: it lasts no longer than our wealth; when that is gone, and the object removed, farewell friendship: as long as bounty, good cheer, and rewards were to be hoped for, friends enough; they were tied to thee by the teeth, and would follow thee as crows do a carcass: but when thy goods are gone and spent, the lamp of their love is out, and thou shalt be contemned, scorned, hated, injured. Lucian's Timon, when he lived in prosperity, was the sole spectacle of Greece, only admired; who but Timon? Everybody loved, honored, applauded him, each man offered him his service, and sought to be kin to him; but when his gold was spent, his fair possessions gone, farewell Timon: none so ugly, none so deformed, so hateful an object as Timon, no man so ridiculous on a sudden, they gave him a penny to buy a rope, no man would know him. Tis the general humor of the world, commodity steers our affections throughout, we love those that are fortunate and rich, that thrive, or by whom we may receive mutual kindness, hope for like courtesies, get any good, gain, or profit; hate those, and abhor on the other side, which are poor and miserable, or by whom we may sustain loss or inconvenience. And even those that were now familiar and dear to us, our loving and long friends, neighbors, kinsmen, allies, with whom we have conversed, and lived as so many Geryons for some years past, striving still to give one another all good content and entertainment, with mutual invitations, feastings, disports, offices, for whom we would ride, run, spend ourselves, and of whom we have so freely and honorably spoken, to whom we have given all those turgent titles, and magnificent eulogiums, most excellent and most noble, worthy, wise, grave, learned, valiant, and else, and magnified beyond measure: if any controversy arises between us, some trespass, injury, abuse, some part of our goods be detained, a piece of land come to be litigious, if they cross us in our suit, or touch the string of our commodity, we detest and depress them upon a sudden: neither affinity, consanguinity, or old acquaintance can contain us, but Caprificus will come out with a broken liver. A golden apple sets altogether by the ears, as if a marrowbone or honeycomb were flung amongst bears: father and son, brother and sister, kinsmen are at odds: and look what malice, deadly hatred can invent, that shall be done, Terrible, dire, pestilential, terrible, ferocious, mutual injuries, desire of revenge, and how to hurt them, him and his, are all our studies. If our pleasures be interrupted, we can tolerate it: our bodies hurt, we can put it up and be reconciled: but touch our commodities, we are most impatient: fair becomes foul, the graces are turned to harpies, friendly greetings to bitter imprecations , mutual feastings to plotting villainies, minings and counterminings; good words to satires and invectives, we revile on the contrary, nought but his imperfections are in our eyes, he is a base knave, a devil, a monster, a caterpillar, a viper, a hog-rubber, and more, the scene is altered on a sudden, love is turned to hate, mirth to melancholy: so furiously are we most part bent, our affections fixed upon this object of commodity, and upon money, the desire of which in excess is covetousness: ambition tyranniseth over our souls, as I have shown, and in defect crucifies as much, as if a man by negligence, ill husbandry, improvidence, prodigality, waste and consume his goods and fortunes , beggary follows, and melancholy, he becomes an abject, odious and "worse than an infidel, in not providing for his family." Subsection two. Pleasant Objects of Love. Pleasant objects are infinite, whether they be such as have life, or be without life; inanimate are countries, provinces, towers, towns, cities, as he said, We see a fair island by description, when we see it not. The sun never saw a fairer city, Thessalian Tempe, orchards, gardens, pleasant walks, groves, fountains, and more. The heaven itself is said to be fair or foul: fair buildings,fair pictures, all artificial, elaborate and curious works, clothes, give an admirable luster: we admire, and gaze upon them, like the bird of Juno's children, as children do on a peacock: a fair dog, a fair horse and hawk, and else Thessalus loves a young horse, an Egyptian cow, a Lacedaemonian cat, and else, such things we love, are most gracious in our sight, acceptable unto us, and whatever else may cause this passion, if it be superfluous or immoderately loved, as Observe the Guyanese. These things in themselves are pleasing and good, singular ornaments, necessary, comely, and fit to be had; but when we fix an immoderate eye, and dote on them too much, this pleasure may turn to pain, bring much sorrow and discontent to us, work our final overthrow, and cause melancholy in the end. Many are carried away with those bewitching sports of gaming, hawking, hunting, and such vain pleasures, as I have said: some with immoderate desire of fame, to be crowned in the Olympics, knighted in the field, and more, and by these means ruin themselves. The lascivious dotes on his fair mistress, the glutton on his dishes, which are infinitely varied to please the palate, the epicure on his several pleasures, the superstitious on his idol, and fats himself with future joys, as Turks feed themselves with an imaginary persuasion of a sensual paradise: so several pleasant objects differently affect different men. But the fairest objects and enticings proceed from men themselves, which most frequently captivate, allure, and make them dote beyond all measure upon one another, and that for many respects: first, as some suppose, by that secret force of stars, which does the star temper me for you? They do singularly dote on such a man, hate such again, and can give no reason for it. I do not love you Sabidi, and else. Alexander admired Ephestion, Adrian Antinous, Nero Sporus, and more. The physicians refer this to their temperament, astrologers to trine and sextile aspects, or the opposite of their several ascendants, lords of their births, love and hatred of planets; Cicogna, to concord and discord of spirits; but most to outward graces. A merry companion is welcome and acceptable to all men, and therefore, says Gomesius, princes and great men entertain jesters and players commonly in their courts. But Peers congregate very easily with peers, tis that similarity of manners, which ties most men in an inseparable link, as if they be addicted to the same studies or sports, they delight in one another's companies, "birds of a feather will gather together:" if they be of different inclinations, or opposite in manners, they can rarely agree. Secondly, affability, custom, and familiarity, may convert nature many times, though they be different in manners, as if they be countrymen, fellow-students, colleagues, or have been fellow-soldiers, brethren in affliction, a bitter society of calamities, even men of different talents unite, affinity, or some such accidental occasion, though they cannot agree amongst themselves, they will stick together like burrs, and bold against a third; so after some discontinuance, or death, enmity ceases; or in a foreign place: He feeds on the living bruise, rests after the fates: And hatreds fall, and sad death overwhelms anger. A third cause of love and hate, may be mutual offices, accepted benefit, commend him, use him kindly, take his part in a quarrel, relieve him in his misery, thou winnest him for ever; do the opposite, and be sure of a perpetual enemy. Praise and dispraise of each other, do as much, though unknown, as Schoppius by Scaliger and Casaubonus: a mule itches a mule; who but Scaliger with him? What encomiums, epithets, eulogiums? Ancient of wisdom, perpetual dictator, ornament of letters, miracle of Europe, noble Scaliger, incredible excellence of genius, and more, but when they began to vary, none so absurd as Scaliger, so vile and base, as his books on the Burdonum family, and other satirical invectives may witness, Ovid, in Ibin, Archilocus himself was not so bitter. Another great tie or cause of love, is consanguinity: parents are clear to their children, children to their parents, brothers and sisters, cousins of all sorts, as a hen and chickens, all of a knot: every crow thinks her own bird fairest. Many memorable examples are in this kind, and 'this portent simile, if they do not: "a mother cannot forget her child:" Solomon so found out the true owner; love of parents may not be concealed, tis natural, descends, and they that are inhuman in this kind, are unworthy of that air they breathe, and of the four elements; yet many unnatural examples we have in this rank, of hard-hearted parents, disobedient children, of disagreeing brothers, nothing so common. The love of kinsmen is grown cold, "many kinsmen", as the saying is, "few friends;" if thine estate be good, and thou ablest, to relate equally, to requite their kindness, there will be mutual correspondence, otherwise thou art a burden, most odious to them above all others. The last object that ties man and man, is comeliness of person, and beauty alone, as men love women with a wanton eye: which par excellence is termed heroic, or love-melancholy. Other loves, saith Picolomineus, are so called with some contraction, as the love of wine, gold, and more, but this of women is predominant in a higher strain, whose part affected is the liver, and this love deserves a longer explanation, and shall be dilated apart in the next section. Subsection three. Honest Objects of Love. Beauty is the common object of all love, "as a jet draws a straw, so doth beauty love:" virtue and honesty are great motives, and give as fair a lustre as the rest, especially if they be sincere and right, not fucate, but proceeding from true form, and an incorrupt judgment; those two Venus' twins, Eros and Anteros, are then most firm and fast. For many times otherwise men are deceived by their flattering gnathos, dissembling camelions, outsiders, hypocrites that make a show of great love, learning, pretend honesty, virtue, zeal, modesty, with affected looks and counterfeit gestures: feigned protests often steal away the hearts and favors of men, and deceive them, in the appearance of virtue and shadow, when as really and indeed, there is no worth or honesty at all in them, no truth, but mere hypocrisy, subtlety, knavery, and the like. As true friends they are, as he that Caelius Secundus met by the highway side; and hard it is in this temporising age to distinguish such companions, or to find them out. Such gnathos as these for the most part belong to great men, and by this glozing flattery, affability, and such like philters, so dive and insinuate into their favors, that they are taken for men of excellent worth, wisdom, learning, demigods, and so screw themselves into dignities, honors, offices; but these men cause harsh confusion often, and as many times stirs as Rehoboam's counselors in a commonwealth, overthrew themselves and others. Tandlerus and some authors make a doubt, whether love and hatred may be compelled by philters or characters; Cardan and Marbodius, by precious stones and amulets; astrologers by choice of times, and else, as I shall discuss elsewhere. The true object of this honest love is virtue, wisdom, honesty, real worth, internal form, and this love cannot deceive or be compelled, to be lovable, love itself is the most potent philtrum, virtue and wisdom, grace doing grace, the sole and only grace, not counterfeit, but open, honest, simple, naked, "descending from heaven," as our apostle hath it, an infused habit from God, which hath given several gifts, as wit, learning, tongues, for which they shall be amiable and gracious, Ephesians Four, 11, as to Saul's stature and a goodly presence, First Samuel Nine, 1, Joseph found favor in Pharaoh's court, Genesis thirty nine, for this person; and Daniel with the princes of the eunuchs, Daniel nineteen, 19. Christ was gracious with God and men, Luke two, 52. There is still some peculiar grace, as of good discourse, eloquence, wit, honesty, which is the first mobile, first mover, and a most forcible loadstone to draw the favors and good wills of men's eyes, ears, and affections unto them When "Jesus spake, they were all astonished at his answers," Luke Two, 47, "and wondered at his gracious words which proceeded from his mouth." An orator steals away the hearts of men, and as another Orpheus, where he wills, where he wills, he pulls them to him by speech alone: a sweet voice causes admiration; and he that can utter himself in good words, in our ordinary phrase, is called a proper man, a divine spirit. For which cause belike, our old poets, the Senate and the people of poets, made Mercury the gentleman-usher to the Graces, captain of eloquence, and those charities to be Jupiter's and Eurymone's daughters, descended from above. Though they be otherwise deformed, crooked, ugly to behold, those good parts of the mind denominate them fair. Plato commends the beauty of Socrates; yet who was more grim of countenance, stern and ghastly to look upon? So are and have been many great philosophers, as Gregory Nazianzen observes, "deformed most part in that which is to be seen with the eyes, but most elegant in that which is not to be seen." Wisdom often hides under worn clothing. Aesop, Democritus, Aristotle, Politianus, Melanchthon, Gesner, and more, withered old men, Sileni Alcibiades, very harsh and impolite to the eye; but who were so terse, polite, eloquent, generally learned, temperate and modest? No man then living was so fair as Alcibiades, so lovely as to the surface, to the eye, as Boethius observes, but he had a most ugly body internally, a most deformed soul; honesty, virtue, fair conditions, are great enticers to such as are well given, and much avail to get the favor and goodwill of men. Abdolominus in Curtius, a poor man, but which my author notes, "the cause of this poverty was his honesty", for his modesty and continence from a private person (for they found him digging in his garden) was saluted king, and preferred before all the magnificoes of his time, "a purple embroidered garment was put upon him, and they bade him wash himself, and, as he was worthy, take upon him the style and spirit of a king," continue his continence and the rest of his good parts. Titus Pomponius Atticus, that noble citizen of Rome, was so fair conditioned, of so sweet a carriage, that he was generally beloved of all good men, of Caesar, Pompey, Antony, Tully, of divers sects, and more, obtained many inheritances, Cornelius Nepos writes, by goodness alone. To hear the work, the price, and else. It is worthy of your attention, Livy cries, "you that scorn all but riches, and give no esteem to virtue, except they be wealthy withal, Quinctius Cincinnatus had but four acres, and by the consent of the senate was chosen dictator of Rome.” Of such account were Cato, Fabricius, Aristides, Antonius, Probus, for their eminent worth: so Caesar, Trajan, Alexander, admired for valor, Haephestion loved Alexander, but Parmenius the king: Titus the delight of the human race, and which Aurelius Victor hath of Vespasian, the darling of his time, as Edgar Etheling was in England, for his excellent virtues: their memory is yet fresh, sweet, and we love them many ages after, though they be dead: He left a pleasant memory of himself, says Lipsius of his friend, living and dead they are all one. “I have ever loved as thou knowest”, so Tully wrote to Dolabella, “Marcus Brutus for his great wit, singular honesty, constancy, sweet conditions; and believe it” “there is nothing so amiable and fair as virtue.” "I do mightily love Calvisinus," so Pliny writes to Sossius, "a most industrious, eloquent, upright man, which is all in all with me:" the affection came from his good parts. And as Saint Austin comments on the eighty fourth Psalm, "there is a peculiar beauty of justice, and inward beauty, which we see with the eyes of our hearts, love, and are enamored with, as in martyrs, though their bodies be torn in pieces with wild beasts, yet this beauty shines, and we love their virtues.” The stoics are of opinion that a wise man is only fair; and Cato in Tully’s third diaglog of de Finibus bonorum et malorum contends the same, that the features of the mind are far fairer than those of the body, incomparably beyond them: wisdom and valor according to Xenophon, especially deserve the name of beauty, and denominate one fair, and incomparably more beautiful, as Austin holds, is the truth of the Christians than the Helen of the Greeks. "Wine is strong, the king is strong, women are strong, but truth overcomes all things," Esdras one, 3, 10, 11, 12. "Blessed is the man that findeth wisdom, and getteth understanding, for the merchandise thereof is better than silver, and the gain thereof better than gold: it is more precious than pearls, and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared to her," Proverbs Two, 13, 14, 15, a wise, true, just, upright, and good man, I say it again, is only fair: it is reported of Magdalene Queen of France, and wife to Lewis the eleventh, a Scottish woman by birth, that walking forth in an evening with her ladies, she spied Alanus, one of the king's chaplains, a silly, old, hard-favoured man fast asleep in a bower, and kissed him sweetly; when the young ladies laughed at her for it, she replied, that it was not his person that she did embrace and reverence, but, with a platonic love, the divine beauty of his soul. Thus in all ages virtue hath been adored, admired, a singular glory hath proceeded from it: and the more virtuous he is, the more gracious, the more admired. No man so much followed upon earth as Christ himself: and as the Psalmist saith, forty-five, 2, "He was fairer than the sons of men." Chrysostom, Bernard de Omnia Sanctus; Austin, Cassiodorus, interpret it of the beauty of his person; there was a divine majesty in his looks, it shone like lightning and drew all men to it: but Basil, Theodoret, Arnobius, and more, of the beauty of his divinity, justice, grace, eloquence, and more. Thomas in Psalm fourteen, of both; and so doth Baradius and Peter Morales, lib de pulchritud. Jesus and Mary, adding as much of Joseph and the Virgin Mary, this other form preceded them all, according to that prediction of Sibylla Cumea. Be they present or absent, near us, or far off, this beauty shines, and will attract men of many miles to come and visit it. Plato and Pythagoras left their country, to see those wise Egyptian priests: Apollonius traveled into Ethiopia, Persia, to consult with the Magi, Brachmanni, gymnosophists. The Queen of Sheba came to visit Solomon; and "many," says Hierom, "went out of Spain and remote places a thousand miles, to behold that Livy speaks:" they visited and heard one thing, and departed from the Gads. No beauty leaves such an impression, strikes so deep, or links the souls of men closer than virtue. Not through the gods or the painter could. Or imagine any sculptor, Such beauty as virtue has; "no painter, no graver, no carver can express virtue's lustre, or those admirable rays that come from it, those enchanting rays that enamour posterity, those everlasting rays that continue to the world's end." Many, saith Phavorinus, that loved and admired Alcibiades in his youth, knew not, cared not for Alcibiades a man; but the beauty of Socrates is still the same; virtue's luster never fades, it is ever fresh and green, always alive to all succeeding ages, and a most attractive loadstone, to draw and combine such as are present. For that reason alike, Homer feigns the three Graces to be linked and tied hand in hand, because the hearts of men are so firmly united with such graces. "O sweet bands, Seneca exclaims, which so happily combine, that those which are bound by them love their binders, desiring withal much more harder to be bound," and as so many Geryons to be united into one. For the nature of true friendship is to combine, to be like affected, of one mind, Willing and unwilling both are the same, And satisfied with the whole. The mind is old. As the poet says, still to continue one and the same. And where this love takes place there is peace and quietness, a true correspondence, perfect friendship, a diapason of vows and wishes, the same opinions, as between David and Jonathan, Damon and Pythias, Pylades and Orestes, Nysus and Euryalus, Theseus and Pirithous, they will live and die together, and pursue one another with good turns. For they think it most wretched to be conquered in love, not only living, but when their friends are dead, with tombs and monuments, ghosts, epitaphs, elegies, inscriptions, pyramids, obelisks, statues, images, pictures, histories, poems, annals, feasts, anniversaries, many ages after, as Plato's scholars did, they will still parent, omit no good office that may tend to the preservation of their names, honors, and eternal memory. That with colors, that with wax, that with brass, and more. "He did express his friends in colors, in wax, in brass, in ivory, marble, gold, and silver", as Pliny reports of a citizen in Rome, "and in a great audience not long since recited a just volume of his life." In another place, speaking of an epigram which Martial had composed in praise of him, “He gave me as much as he might, and would have done more if he could: though what can a man give more than honor, glory, and eternity?” But that which he wrote peradventure will not continue, yet he wrote it to continue. Tis all the reward a poor scholar can make his well-deserving patron, Mecaenas, friend, to mention him in his works, to dedicate a book to his name, to write his life, and else, as all our poets, orators, Historiographers have ever done, and the greatest revenge such men take of their adversaries, to persecute them with satires, invectives, and more, and tis both ways of great moment, as Plato gives us to understand. Paulus Jovius, in the fourth book of the life and deeds of Pope Leo Decimus, his noble patron, concludes in these words, "Because I cannot honor him as other rich men do, with like endeavour, affection, and piety, I have undertaken to write his life; since my fortunes will not give me leave to make a more sumptuous monument, I will perform those rites to his sacred ashes, which a small, perhaps, but a liberal wit can afford." But 1 rove Where this true love is wanting, there can be no firm peace, friendship from teeth outward, counterfeit, or for some by-respects, so long dissembled, till they have satisfied their own ends, which, upon every small occasion, breaks out into enmity, open war, defiance, heart-burnings, whispering, calumnies, contentions, and all manner of bitter melancholy discontents. And those men who have no other object of their love, than greatness, wealth, authority, and more, are rather feared than beloved; they neither love anyone nor are loved by anyone: and however borne with for a time, yet for their tyranny and oppression, griping, covetousness, currish hardness, folly, intemperance, imprudence, and such like vices, they are generally odious, abhorred of all, both God and men. Not your wife wants you saved, not your son, but everyone neighbors hate "Wife and children, friends, neighbors, all the world forsakes them, would feign to be rid of them," and are compelled many times to lay violent hands on them, or else God's judgments overtake them: instead of graces, come furies. So when fair Abigail, a woman of singular wisdom, was acceptable to David, Nabal was churlish and evil-conditioned; and therefore Mordecai was received, when Haman was executed, Haman the favorite, "that had his seat above the other princes, to whom all the king's servants that stood in the gates, bowed their knees and reverenced." Though they flourished many times, such hypocrites, such temporising foxes, and blear the world's eyes by flattery, bribery, dissembling their natures, or other men's weakness, that cannot so apprehend their tricks, yet in the end they will be discerned, and precipitated in a moment: "surely," says David, "thou hast set them in slippery places," Psalm thirty seven, 5, as so many Sejani, they will come down to the Gemonian scales; and as Eusebius in Ammianus, that was in such authority, to command the Emperor, be cast down headlong on a sudden. Or put case they escape, and rest unmasked to their lives' end, yet after their death their memory stinks as a snuff of a candle put out, and those that durst not so much as mutter against them in their lives, will prosecute their name with satires, libels, and bitter imprecations, they shall hear evil in all succeeding ages, and be odious to the world's end. Member three. Charity composed of all three Kinds, Pleasant, Profitable, Honest. Besides this love that comes from profit, pleasant, honest, for one good turn asks another in equity, that which proceeds from the law of nature, or from discipline and philosophy, there is yet another love compounded of all these three, which is charity, and includes piety, love, benevolence, friendship, even all those virtuous habits; for love is the circle equant of all other affections, of which Aristotle dilates at large in his Ethics, and is commanded by God, which no man can well perform, but he that is a Christian, and a true regenerate man; this is, "To love God above all, and our neighbor as ourselves;" for this love is a lychnus kindling and lit, a communicating light, apt to illuminate itself as well as others. All other objects are fair, and very beautiful, I confess; kindred, alliance, friendship, the love that we owe to our country, nature, wealth, pleasure, honor, and such moral respects, and more, of which read copious Aristotle in his morals; a man is beloved of a man, in that he is a man; but all these are far more eminent and great, when they shall proceed from a sanctified spirit, that hath a true touch of religion, and a reference to God. Nature binds all creatures to love their young ones; a hen to preserve her broo

Part 1 of 4: https://rumble.com/v4d2ddr-anatomy-of-melancholy-part-1-of-4-introduction.-a-puke-tm-audiobook.html Part 2 of 4: https://rumble.com/v4dgu6o-the-anatomy-of-melancholy-2-of-4-the-first-partition-by-robert-burton-1621..html THE SECOND PARTITION. THE CURE OF MELANCHOLY. THE FIRST SECTION, MEMBER, SUBSECTION. Unlawful Cures rejected. Inveterate Melancholy, however it may seem to be a continuous, inexorable disease, hard to be cured, accompanying them to their graves, most part, as Montanus observes, yet many times it may be helped, even that which is most violent, or at least, according to the same author, "it may be mitigated and much eased." Do not despair. It may be hard to cure, but not impossible for him that is most grievously affected, if he is willing to be helped. Upon this good hope I will proceed, using the same method in the cure, which I have formerly used in the rehearsing of the causes; first general, then particular; and those according to their several species. Of these cares some be lawful, some again unlawful, which though frequent, familiar, and often used, yet justly censured, and to be controversial. As first, whether by these diabolical means, which are commonly practiced by the devil and his ministers, sorcerers, witches, magicians, and more, by spells, cabilistical words, charms, characters, images, amulets, ligatures, philters, incantations, and else, this disease and the like may be cured? And if they may, whether it be lawful to make use of them, those magnetical cures, or for our good to seek after such means in any case? The first, whether they can do any such cares, is questioned among many writers, some affirming, some denying. Valesius, Malleus Maleficar, Heurnius, Caelius, Delrio, Wierus, Ludwig Lavater De spectris, part two, chapter 7. Holbrenner the Lutheran in Pistorium, Polydore Virgil, Tandlerus, Lemnius, Hippocrates and Avicenna amongst the rest, deny that spirits or devils have any power over us, and refer all with Pomponatius of Padua to natural causes and humours. Of the other opinion are Bodinus, Arnoldus, Marcellus Empyricus, I Pistorius, Paracelsus, Agrippa, Marcilius Ficinus and more. Galeottus, Jovianus Pontanus, Strabo, Geog Leo Suavius: Goclenius, Oswoldus Crollius, Ernestus Burgravius, Doctor Flood, and more. Cardan from subt. brings many proofs out of Ars Notoria, and Solomon's decayed works, old Hermes, Artefius, Costaben Luca, Picatrix, and more, that such cares may be done. They can make fire it shall not burn, fetch back thieves or stolen goods, show their absent faces in a glass, make serpents lie still, stanch blood, salute gouts, epilepsies, biting of mad dogs, toothache, melancholy, and all the evils of the world, make men immortal, young again as the Spanish marquis is said to have done by one of his slaves, and some, which jugglers in China maintain still (as Tragaltius writes) that they can do by their extraordinary skill in physic, and some of our modern chemists by their strange limbs, by their spells, philosopher's stones and charms. "Many doubt," says Nicholas Taurellus, "whether the devil can cure such diseases he hath not made, and some flatly deny it, however common experience confirms to our astonishment, that magicians can work such feats, and that the devil without hindrance can penetrate through all the parts of our bodies, and cure such maladies by means unknown to us." Daneus subscribes to this of Taurellus in his tract on the Sortiarii; Erastus de lamiai, maintains as much, and so do most divines, out of their excellent knowledge and long experience they can commit agents with patients, to gather the seeds of things, and to apply those materials, as Austin infers in the City of God and of the Trinity, book three Chapter 7 and 8, they can work stupendous and admirable conclusions; we see the effects only, but not the causes of them. Nothing so familiar as to hear of such concerns. Sorcerers are too common; cunning men, wizards, and white-witches, as they call them, in every village, which if they be sought unto, will help almost all infirmities of body and mind, Servators in Latin, and they have commonly Saint Catherine's wheel printed in the roof of their mouth, or in some other part about them, resist the charms of charms, Boissardus writes, repel diseases from arrows, motions, and others, that to doubt of it any longer, "or not to believe, were to run into that other skeptical extreme of incredulity," says Taurellus. Leo Suavius in his commentary upon Paracelsus seems to make it an art, which ought to be approved; Pistorius and others stiffly maintain the use of charms, words, characters, and more. Art is true, but few artists are found; the art is true, but there be but a few that have skill in it. Marcellus Donatus book two of De Medica Historia Mirabili, proves out of Josephus' eight books of antiquities, that, "Solomon so cured all the diseases of the mind by spells, charms, and drove away devils, and that Eleazer did as much before Vespasian." Langius in his Medical Epistisles holds Jupiter Menecrates, that did so many stupendous cures in his time, to have used this art, and that he was no other than a magician. Many famous cures are daily done in this kind, the devil is an expert physician, as Godelman calls him, and God permits oftentimes these witches and magicians to produce such effects, as Lavater, Polidore Virgil, admit Delrio and others. Such cares may be done, and as Paracelsius, Tome four of the disease they are mad stiffly maintains, "they cannot otherwise be cured but by spells, seals, and spiritual physic." Arnoldus, sets down the making of them, so doth Rolandus and many others. Assuming this, they can effect such cures, the main question is, whether it be lawful in a desperate case to crave their help, or ask a wizard's advice. Tis a common practice of some men to go first to a witch, and then to a physician, if one cannot the other shall. "It matters not," says Paracelsus, "whether it be God or the devil, angels, or unclean spirits care for him, so that he be eased." If a man falls into a ditch, as he pursues it, what matter is it whether a friend or an enemy helps him out? And if I be troubled with such a malady, what care I whether the devil himself, or any of his ministers by God's permission, redeem me? He calls a magician, God's minister and his vicar, applying that of you are gods profanely to them, for which he is lashed by Thomas Erastus. And elsewhere he encourages his patients to have a good faith, "a strong imagination, and they shall find the effects: let divines say to the contrary what they will." He proves and contends that many diseases cannot otherwise be cured. They must be taken care of by the rising spell; if they be caused by incantation, they must be cured by incantation. Constantinus approves of such remedies: Bartolus the lawyer, Peter Aerodius, Godefridus Salicetus, with others of that sect, allowed of them; so they be for the parties good, or not at all. But these men are refuted by Remigius, Bodinus, Godelmanus, Wierus, Delrio, Erastus de Lamiis; all our divines, schoolmen, and such as write cases of conscience are against it, the scripture itself absolutely forbids it as a mortal sin, Leviticus chapter eighteen, nineteen, twenty, Deuteronomy eighteen and others. Romans Eight, 19. "Evil is not to be done, that good may come of it." Much better it were for such patients that are so troubled, to endure a little misery in this life, than to hazard their souls' health for ever, and as Delrio counselleth, "much better die, than be so cured." Some take upon them to expel devils by natural remedies, and magical exorcisms, which they seem to approve out of the practice of the primitive church, as that above cited of Josephus, Eleazer, Irenaeus, Tertullian, Austin, Eusebius makes mention of such, and magic itself hath been publicly professed in some universities, as of old in Salamanca in Spain, and Krakow in Poland: but condemned in 1318, by the chancellor and university of Paris. Our pontifical writers retain many of these adjurations and forms of exorcisms still in the church; besides those used in baptism, they exorcise meats, and such as are possessed, as they hold, in Christ's name. Read Hieron. Mengus, Petrus Tyrus. What exorcisms they prescribe, besides those ordinary means of "fire suffumigations, lights, cutting the air with swords," herbs, odors: of which Tostatus, you shall find many vain and frivolous superstitious forms of exorcisms among them, not to be tolerated, or endured. Member two. Lawful Cures, first from God. Being so clearly evinced, as it is, all unlawful cures are to be refused, it remains to treat of such as are to be admitted, and those are commonly such which God hath appointed, by virtue of stones, herbs, plants, meats, and the like, which are prepared and applied to our use, by art and industry of physicians, who are the dispensers of such treasures for our good, and to be "honored for necessities' sake," God's intermediate ministers, to whom in our infirmities we are to seek for help. Yet not so that we rely too much, or wholly upon them: a Jove principle, we must first begin with prayer, and then use physic; not one without the other, but both together. To pray alone, and reject ordinary means, is to do like him in Aesop, that when his cart was stalled, lay flat on his back, and cried aloud help Hercules, but that was to little purpose, except as his friend advised him, having girded himself safely to the wheels, he whipped his horses withal, and put his shoulder to the wheel. God works by means, as Christ cured the blind man with clay and spittle: We must pray that there may be a sound mind in a sound body. As we must pray for health of body and mind, so we must use our utmost endeavors to preserve and continue it. Some kind of devils are not cast out but by fasting and prayer, and both are necessarily required, not one without the other. For all the physic we can use, art, excellent industry, is to no purpose without calling upon God, nothing helps to promise immense mountains to Crater: it is in vain to seek for help, run, ride, except God bless us. Not the Sicilians. They will develop a sweet taste. Not the spirit of the song of the Cythera. Not a house and a farm, not a heap of brass and gold. The patient can bring fevers to the owner. With house, with land, with money, and with gold, The master's fever will not be controlled. We must use our prayer and physic both together: and so no doubt but our prayers will be available, and our physic take effect. Tis that Hezekiah practiced, second Kings, twenty. Luke the Evangelist: and which we are enjoined, Colossians four not the patient only, but the physician himself. Hippocrates, a heathen, required this in a good practitioner, and so did Galen, and in that tract of his, whether the manners followed tis a rule which he doth inculcate, and many others. Hyperius in his first book speaking of that happiness and good success which all physicians desire and hope for in their cares, "tells them that it is not to be expected, except with a true faith they call upon God, and teach their patients to do the like.” The council of Lateran, Canon 22. decreed they should do so: the fathers of the church have still advised as much: whatever thou takest in hand, saith Gregory, “let God be of thy counsel, consult with him; that healeth those that are broken in heart, Psalm one hundred and forty seven, and bindeth up their sores." Otherwise as the prophet Jeremiah, chapter forty-six, denounced to Egypt, In vain thou shalt use many medicines, for thou shalt have no health. It is the same counsel which Comineus that political historiographer gives to all Christian princes, upon occasion of that unhappy overthrow of Charles Duke of Burgundy, by means of which he was extremely melancholy, and sick to death: insomuch that neither physic nor persuasion could do him any good, perceiving his preposterous error belike, adviseth all great men in such cases, "to pray first to God with all submission and penance, to confess their sins, and then to use physic." The very same fault it was, which the prophet reproaches in Asa king of Judah, that he relied more on physics than on God, and by all means would have him to amend it. And tis a fit caution to be observed of all other sorts of men. The prophet David was so observant of this precept, that in his greatest misery and vexation of mind, he put this rule first in practice. Psalm seventy seven, 3. "When I am in heaviness, I will think on God." Psalm eighty six, 4. "Comfort the soul of thy servant, for unto thee I lift up my soul:" and verse 7. "In the day of trouble I will call upon thee, for thou hearest me." Psalm fifty-four, 1. "Save me, O God, by thy name," and more. Psalm eighty two, Psalm twenty. And tis the common practice of all good men, Psalm one hundred and seven, 13. "when their heart was humbled with heaviness, they cried to the Lord in their troubles, and he delivered them from their distress." And they have found good success in so doing, as David confesseth, Psalm thirty, 12. "Thou hast turned my mourning into joy, thou hast loosened my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness." Therefore he adviseth all others to do the like, Psalm thirty one, 24. "All ye that trust in the Lord, be strong, and he shall establish your heart." It is reported by Suidas, speaking of Hezekiah, that there was a great book of old, of King Solomon's writing, which contained medicines for all manner of diseases, and lay open still as they came into the temple: but Hezekiah king of Jerusalem, caused it to be taken away, because it made the people secure, to neglect their duty in calling and relying upon God, out of a confidence in those remedies. Minutius that worthy consul of Rome in an oration he made to his soldiers, was much offended with them, and taxed their ignorance, that in their misery called more upon him than upon God. A general fault it is all over the world, and Minutius's speech concerns us all, we rely more on physic, and seek more often to physicians, than to God himself. As much faulty are they that prescribe, as they that ask, respecting wholly their gain, and trusting more to their ordinary receipts and medicines many times, than to him that made them. I would wish all patients on this behalf, in the midst of their melancholy, to remember that of Siracides, Ecclesiastes one, 11 and 12. “The fear of the Lord is glory and gladness, and rejoicing. The fear of the Lord maketh a merry heart, and giveth gladness, and joy, and long life:" and all such as prescribe physic, to begin in the name of God, as Mesue did, to imitate Laelius from Fonte Eugubinus, that in all his consultations, he still concludes with a prayer for the good success of his business; and to remember that of Cretus, one of their predecessors, avoid covetousness, and do nothing without invocation upon God. Member three. Whether it be lawful to seek to Saints for Aid in this Disease. That we must pray to God, no man doubts; but whether we should pray to saints in such cases, or whether they can do us any good, it may be lawfully disputed. Whether their images, shrines, relics, consecrated things, holy water, medals, blessings, those divine amulets, holy exorcisms, and the sign of the cross, be available in this disease? The papists on the one side stiffly maintain how many melancholy, mad, demoniacal persons are daily cured at Saint Anthony's Church in Padua, at Saint Vitus' in Germany, by our Lady of Loretto in Italy, our Lady of Sichem in the Low Countries: He gives light to the blind, health to the sick, life to the dead, walking to the lame, cures all diseases of body and mind, and in He exercises control over the demons themselves; she cures halt, lame, blind, all diseases of body and mind, and commands the devil himself, says Lipsius. "Twenty-five thousand in a day come thither," who but a god thus brought into that place; who brought them? In the ears, in the eyes of all, the deeds, the new news; new news lately done, our eyes and ears are full of her cares, and who can relate them all? They have a proper saint almost for every peculiar infirmity: for poison, gouts, agues, Petronella: Saint Romanus for such as are possessed; Valentine for the falling sickness; Saint Vitus for madmen, and more. and as of old Pliny reckons up Gods for all diseases, Febri fanum dicalum est, Lilius Giraldus repeats many of her ceremonies: all affections of the mind were heretofore accounted gods, love, and sorrow, virtue, honor, liberty, contumely, impudency, had their temples, tempests, seasons, Crepitus Belly, goddess Vacuna, goddess Cloacina, there was a goddess of idleness, a goddess of the draught, or jakes, Prema, Premunda, Priapus, bawdy gods, and gods for all offices. Varro reckons up 30,000 gods: Lucian makes Gout the gout a goddess, and assigns her priests and ministers: and melancholy comes not behind; for as Austin mentioneth, book four of the City of God, chapter 9. There was of old Angerona the goddess, and she had her chapel and feasts, to whom, saith Macrobius, they did offer sacrifice annually, that she might be pacified as well as the rest. Tis no new thing, you see this of papists; and in my judgment, that old doting Lipsius might have fitter dedicated his pen after all his labors, to this our goddess of melancholy, than to his Virgo Halensis, and been her chaplain, it would have become him better: but he, poor man, thought no harm in that which he did, and will not be persuaded but that he doth well, he hath so many patrons, and honorable precedents in the like kind, that justify as much, as eagerly, and more than he there saith of his lady and mistress: read but superstitious Coster and Gretser's Tract de Cruce, L Arcturus, Bellarmine, Delrio, Gregory Tolosanus. Syntax, Strozius Cicogna, Tyreus, Hieronymus Mengus, and you shall find infinite examples of cures done in this kind, by holy waters, relics, crosses, exorcisms, amulets, images, consecrated beads, and more. Barradius the Jesuit boldly gives it out, that Christ's countenance, and the Virgin Mary's, would cure melancholy, if one had looked steadfastly on them. Petrus Morales the Spaniard in his book confirms the same out of Carthusianus, and I know not whom, that it was a common proverb in those days, for such as were troubled in mind to say, let us see the son of Mary, as they now do post to Saint Anthony's in Padua, or to Saint Hilary's at Poitiers in France. In a closet of that church, there is at this day Saint Hilary's bed to be seen, "to which they bring all the madmen in the country, and after some prayers and other ceremonies, they lay them down there to sleep, and so they recover." It is an ordinary thing in those parts, to send all their madmen to Saint Hilary's cradle. They say the like of Saint Tubery in another place. Giraldus Cambrensis tells strange stories of Saint Ciricius' staff, that would cure this and all other diseases. Others say as much, as Hospinian observes, of the three kings of Cologne; their names written in parchment, and hung about a patient's neck, with the sign of the cross, will produce like effects. Read Lippomanus, or that golden legend of Jacobus de Voragine, you shall have infinite stories, or those new relations of our Jesuits in Japan and China, of Matthew Riccius, Acosta, Loyola, Xavier's life, an others. Jasper Belga, a Jesuit, cured a mad woman by hanging Saint John's gospel about her neck, and many such. Holy water did as much in Japan, and else. Nothing so familiar in their works, as such examples. But we on the other side seek to God alone. We say with David, Psalm forty six-one. "God is our hope and strength, and help in trouble, ready to be found." For their catalog of examples, we make no other answer, but that they are false fictions, or diabolical illusions, counterfeit miracles. We cannot deny but that it is an ordinary thing on Saint Anthony's day in Padua, to bring diverse madmen and demoniacal persons to be cured: yet we make a doubt whether such parties be so affected indeed, but prepared by their priests, by certain ointments and drams, to cozen the commonalty, as Hildesheim well says; the like is commonly practiced in Bohemia as Mathiolus gives us to understand in his preface to his comment upon Dioscorides. But we need not run so far for examples in this kind, we have a just volume published at home for this purpose. "A declaration of egregious popish impostures, to withdraw the hearts of religious men under the pretense of casting out of devils, practiced by Father Edmunds, alias Weston, a Jesuit, and divers Romish priests, his wicked associates," with the several parties' names, confessions, examinations, and more, which were pretended to be possessed. But these are ordinary tricks only to get opinion and money, mere impostures. Aesculapius of old, that counterfeit God, did as many famous cures; his temple, as Strabo relates, was daily full of patients, and as many several tables, inscriptions, pendants, gifts, and more, to be seen in his church, as at this day our Lady of Loretto's in Italy. It was a custom long since. “To offer the sailors garments to the deity of the deep.” To do the like, in former times they were seduced and deluded as they are now. Tis the same devil still, called heretofore Apollo, Mars, Neptune, Venus, Aesculapius, and more, as Lactantius observes. The same Jupiter and those bad angels are now worshiped and adored by the name of Saint Sebastian, Barbara, and others. Christopher and George are come in their places. Our lady succeeds Venus, they use her in many offices, the rest are otherwise supplied, as Lavater writes, and so they are deluded. "And God often winks at these impostures, because they forsake his word, and betake themselves to the devil, as they do that seek after holy water, crosses," and more. Wierus, book 4 Chapter 3. What can these men plead for themselves more than those heathen gods, the same cures done by both, the same spirit that seduceth; but read more of the Pagan god's effects in Austin, the city of God, book ten, Chapter 6, and of Aesculapius especially in Cicogna book three, Chapter 8, or put case they could help, why should we rather seek to them, than to Christ himself, since that he so kindly invites us unto him, "Come unto me all ye that are heavy laden, and I will ease you," Matthew Eleven and we know that there is one God, "one Mediator between God and man, Jesus Christ," first Timothy two, 5, "who gave himself a ransom for all men." We know that "we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ" first John, two, 1 that there is no "other name under heaven, by which we can be saved, but by him," who is always ready to hear us, and sits at the right hand of God, and from whom we can have no repulsion, he alone wills, alone he can, he cares for the universe as individuals, and each one of us and alone, we are all as one to him, he cares for us all as one, and why should we then seek to any other but to him. Member four. Subsection one. Physician, Patient, Physic. Of those diverse gifts which our apostle Paul says God hath bestowed on man, this of physic is not the least, but most necessary, and especially conducive to the good of mankind. Next therefore to God in all our extremities, "for of the most high cometh healing," Ecclesiastes Thirty eight, 2, we must seek to, and rely upon the Physician, who is Manus Dei, says Hierophilus, and to whom he hath given knowledge, that he might be glorified in his wondrous works. "With such doth he heal men, and take away their pains," Ecclesiastes thirty-eight, 6. 7. "When thou hast need of him, let him not go from thee." The hour may come that their enterprises may have good success,” verse 13. It is not therefore to be doubted, that if we seek a physician as we ought, we may be relieved of our infirmities, such a one I mean as is sufficient, and worthily so called; for there be many mountebanks, quacksalvers, empirics, in every street almost, and in every village, that take upon them this name, make this noble and profitable art to be evil spoken of and contemned, by reason of these base and illiterate artists: but such a physician I speak of, as is approved, learned, skilful, honest, and more, of whose duty Wecker, Crato, Julius Alexandrinus, Heurnius annd more, treat at large. For this particular disease, him that shall take upon him to cure it, Paracelsus will have to be a magician, a chemist, a philosopher, an astrologer; Thurnesserus, Severinus the Dane, and some others of his followers, require as much: "many of them cannot be cured but by magic." Paracelsus is so stiff for those chemical medicines, that in his cures he will admit almost of no other physic, deriding in the mean time Hippocrates, Galen, and all their followers: but magic, and all such remedies I have already censured, and shall speak of chemistry elsewhere. Astrology is required by many famous physicians, by Ficinus, Crato, Fernelius; doubted of, and exploded by others: I will not take upon me to decide the controversy myself, Johannes Hossurtus, Thomas Boderius, and Maginus in the preface to his mathematical physic, shall determine for me. Many physicians explode astrology in physic, saith he, there is no use of it; Galen, Avicen. And more, that count them butchers without it, murderous physicians ignorant of Astrology, and more. Paracelsus goes farther, and will have his physician predestined to this man's cure, this malady; and time of cure, the scheme of each generation inspected, gathering of herbs, of administering astrologically observed; in which Thurnesserus and some iatromathematical professors, are too superstitious in my judgment. "Hellebore will help, but not always, not given by every physician, etc." but these men are too peremptory and self-conceited as I think. But what do I do, interposing in that which is beyond my reach? A blind man cannot judge of colors, nor I peradventure of these things. Only thus much I would require, honesty in every physician, that he be not over-careless or covetous, harpy-like to make a prey of his patient; For butchers, as Wecker notes, are among themselves tortured to expose a huge price, as a hungry surgeon often produces and wire-draws his cure, so long as there is any hope of pay, He does not cut the skin, unless it is full of bloody leech. Many of them, to get a fee, will give physic to every one that comes, when there is no cause, and they do so to irritate the silent disease, as Heurnius complains, stir up a silent disease, as it often falleth out, which by good counsel, good advice alone, might have been happily composed, or by rectification of those six non-natural things otherwise cured. This is to wage war on nature, to oppose nature, and to make a strong body weak. Arnaldus in these 8 and 11 Aphorisms gives cautions against, and expressly forbids it. "A wise physician will not give medicine, but upon necessity, and first try a medicinal diet, before he proceeds to medicinal cure." In another place he laughs those men to scorn, that think they can conquer demons and phantasms of the mind with long syrups, they can purge fantastical imaginations and the devil by physic. Another caution is, that they proceed upon good grounds, if so there be need of physic, and not mistake the disease; they are often deceived by the similitude of symptoms, says Heurnius, and I could give instance in many consultations, wherein they have prescribed the opposite physic. Sometimes they go too perfunctorily to work, in not prescribing a just course of physic: To stir up the humor, and not to purge it, doth often more harm than good. Montanus consiliorum 30, inveighs against such disturbances, "that purge to the halves, tire nature, and trouble the body to no purpose." Tis a crabbed humor to purge, and as Laurentius calls this disease, the reproach of physicians: Bessardus, the scourge of the physicians, their lash; and for that cause, more carefully to be respected. Though the patient be averse, saith Laurentius, desire help, and refuse it again, though he neglect his own health, it behoves a good physician not to leave him helpless. But most part they offend in that other extreme, they prescribe too much physic, and tire out their bodies with continual potions, to no purpose. Aetius, tetrabibi, will have them by all means therefore "to give some respite to nature," to leave off now and then; and Laelius a Fonte Eugubinus in his consultations, found it, as he there witnesseth, often verified by experience, "that after a deal of physic to no purpose, left to themselves, they have recovered." Tis that which Nic. Piso, Donatus Altomarus, still inculcate, to give nature rest. Subsection two. Concerning the Patient. When these precedent cautions are accurately kept, and that we have now got a skilful, an honest physician to our mind, if his patient will not be conformable, and content to be ruled by him, all his endeavors will come to no good end. Many things are necessarily to be observed and continued on the patient's behalf: First that he be not too niggardly miserable of his purse, or think it too much he bestows upon himself, and to save charges endangering his health. The Abderites, when they sent for Hippocrates, promised him what reward he would, "all the gold they had, if all the city were gold he should have it." Naaman the Syrian, when he went into Israel to Elisha to be cured of his leprosy, took with him ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes of raiment, Second Kings verse 5. Another thing is, that out of bashfulness he do not conceal his grief; if aught trouble his mind, let him freely disclose it, the careless shame of fools hides bad sores: by that means he procures to himself much mischief, and runs into a greater inconvenience: he must be willing to be cured, and earnestly desire it. Part of health was wanting to heal, Seneca. Tis a part of his care to wish his own health, and not to defer it too long. He that by cherishing a mischief doth provoke, Too late at last refuseth to cast off his yoke, When the skin swells, to seek it to appease, With hellebore, is vain; meet your disease. By this means many times, or through their ignorance in not taking notice of their grievance and danger of it, contempt, supine negligence, exhaustion, wretchedness and peevishness; they themselves. The citizens, I know not of what city now, when rumor was brought that their enemies were coming, could not refrain from hearing it; and when the plague begins in many places and they certainly know it, they command silence and hush it up; but after they see their enemies now marching to their gates, and ready to surprise them, they begin to fortify and resist when it is too late; when, the sickness breaks out and can be no longer concealed, then they lament their supine negligence: tis no otherwise with these men. And often out of prejudice, a loathing, and distaste of physic, they had rather die, or do worse, than take any of it. "Barbarous immanence" Melancthon terms it, "and folly to be deplored, so to contemn the precepts of health, good remedies, and voluntarily to pull death, and many maladies upon their own heads." Though many again are in that other extreme too profuse, suspicious, and jealous of their health, too apt to take physic on every small occasion, to aggravate every slender passion, imperfection, impediment: if their finger do but ache, run, ride, send for a physician, as many gentlewomen do, that are sick, without a cause, even when they will themselves, upon every toy or small discontent, and when he comes, they make it worse than it is, by amplifying that which is not. Hieronymus Capivaccius sets it down as a common fault of all "melancholy persons to say their symptoms are greater than they are, to help themselves." And which Mercurialis notes, consiliorum 53. "to be more troublesome to their physicians, than other ordinary patients, that they may have a change of physic." A third thing to be required in a patient, is confidence, to be of good cheer, and have sure hope that his physician can help him. Damascus the Arabian requires likewise in the physician himself, that he be confident he can cure him, otherwise his physician will not be effectual, and promise withal that he will certainly help him, make him believe so at least. Galeotus gives this reason, because the form of health is contained in the physician's mind, and as Galen, holds "confidence and hope to be more good than physic," he cares most in whom most are confident. Axiocus was sick almost to death, and at the very sight of Socrates he recovered his former health. Paracelsus assigns it for an only cause, why Hippocrates was so fortunate in his cares, not for any extraordinary skill he had; but "because the common people had a most strong conception of his worth." To this of confidence we may add perseverance, obedience, and constancy, not to change his physician, or dislike him upon every toy; for he that so doth, saith Janus Damascen, “or consults with many, falls into many errors; or that useth many medicines." It was a chief caveat of Seneca to his friend Lucilius, that he should not alter his physician, or prescribed physic: “Nothing hinders health more; a wound can never be cured, that hath several plasters." Crato, consiliorum 186, taxeth all melancholy persons of this fault: "Tis proper to them, if things fall not out to their mind, and that they have not present ease, to seek another and another;" as they do commonly that have sore eyes, “twenty one after another, and they still promise all to cure them, try a thousand remedies; and by this means they increase their malady, make it most dangerous and difficult to be cured." "They try many", saith Montanus, "and profit by none:" and for this cause, consiliorum 24, he enjoins his patient before he takes him in hand, "perseverance and suffering, for in such a small time no great matter can be effected, and upon that condition he will administer physic, otherwise all his endeavor and counsel would be to small purpose." And in his thirty first consel for a notable matron, he tells her, “if she will be cured, she must be of a most abiding patience, faithful obedience, and singular perseverance; if she remits, or despairs, she can expect or hope for no good success.” Consiliorum 230, for an Italian Abbot, he makes it one of the greatest reasons why this disease is so incurable, "because the parties are so restless, and impatient, and will therefore have him that intends to be eased," "to take physic, not for a month, a year, but to apply himself to their prescriptions all the days of his life." Last of all, it is required that the patient be not too bold to practice upon himself, without an approved physician's consent, or to try conclusions, if he reads a receipt in a book; for so, many grossly mistake, and do themselves more harm than good. That which is conducive to one man, in one case, at the same time is opposite to another. An ass and a mule went laden over a brook, the one with salt, the other with wool: the mule's pack was wet by chance, the salt melted, his burden the lighter, and he thereby much eased: he told the ass, who, thinking to speed as well, wet his pack likewise at the next water, but it was much the heavier, he was quite tired. So one thing may be good and bad to several parties, upon different occasions. "Many things", saith Penottus, "are written in our books, which seem to the reader to be excellent remedies, but they that make use of them are often deceived, and take for physical poison." I remember in Valleriola's observations, a story of one John Baptist a Neapolitan, that finding by chance a pamphlet in Italian, written in praise of hellebore, would need adventure on himself, and took one dram for one scruple, and had not he been sent for, the poor fellow had poisoned himself. From whence he concludes out of Damascenus 2 and 3 Aphorisms, "that without exquisite knowledge, to work out of books is most dangerous: how unsavory a thing it is to believe writers, and take upon trust, as this patient perceived by his own peril." I could recite such another example of my own knowledge, of a friend of mine, that finding a receipt in Brassivola, would need to take hellebore in substance, and try it on his own person; but had not some of his relatives come to visit him by chance, he had by his indiscretion hazarded himself: many such I have observed. These are those ordinary precautions, which I should think fit to be noted, and he that shall keep them, as Montanus says, shall surely be much eased, if not thoroughly cured. Subsection three. Concerning Physic. Physic itself in the last place is to be considered; "for the Lord hath created medicines of the earth, and he that is wise will not abhor them." Ecclesiastes thirty-eight, 4, Verse 8. "Of such doth the apothecary make a confection," and more. Of these medicines there be diverse and infinite kinds, plants, metals, animals, and more, and those of several natures, some good for one, hurtful to another: some noxious in themselves, corrected by art, very wholesome and good, simple, mixed, and more, and therefore left to be managed by discreet and skilful physicians, and then applied to man's use. To this purpose they have invented methods, and several rules of art, to put these remedies in order, for their particular ends. Physic, as Hippocrates defines it, is naught else but "addition and subtraction;" and as it is required in all other diseases, so in this of melancholy it ought to be most accurate, it being, as Mercurialis acknowledgeth, so common an affection in these our times, and therefore fit to be understood. Several prescripts and methods I find in several men, some take upon them to cure all maladies with one medicine, severally applied, as that panacea, potable gold, so much controversial in these days, herb of the sun, and more. Paracelsus reduces all diseases to four principal heads, to whom Severinus, Ravelascus, Leo Suavius, and others adhere and imitate: those are leprosy, gout, dropsy, falling-sickness. To which they reduce the rest; as to leprosy, ulcers, itches, furrows, scabs, and more. To gout, stone, colic, toothache, headache, and more. To dropsy, age, jaundice, cachexia, and else. To the falling-sickness, belong palsy, vertigo, cramps, convulsions, nightmare, apoplexy, and more. "If any of these four principal be cured", saith Ravelascus, "all the inferior are cured," and the same remedies commonly serve: but this is too general, and by some contradicted: for this peculiar disease of melancholy, of which I am now to speak, I find several cures, several methods and prescriptions. Those that intend the practical cure of melancholy, says Duretus in his notes to Hollerius, set down nine peculiar scopes or ends; Savanarola prescribes seven special canons. Aelianus Montaltus, Faventinus in his empirics, Hercules of Saxony, and others, have their several injunctions and rules, all tending to one end. The ordinary is threefold, which I mean to follow. Dietary, Pharmaceutica, and Chirurgica, diet, or living, apothecary, surgery, which Wecker, Crato, Guianerius, and more, and most, prescribe; of which I will insist, and speak in their order. Section two. Member one. Subsection one. Diet rectified in substance. Diet, Diatitiki, victus, or living, according to Fuchsius and others, includes those six non-natural things, which I have before specified, are special causes, and being rectified, a sole or chief part of the cure. Johannes Arculanus, chapter 16 in 9 Rhasis, accounts the rectifying of these six with sufficient care. Guianerius, Tract 15, chapter 9, calls them, propria et primam curam, the principal cure: so doth Montanus, Crato, Mercurialis, Altomarus, and more, first to be tried, Lemnius, names them the hinges of our health, no hope of recovery without them. Reinerus Solenander, in his seventh consultation for a Spanish young gentlewoman, that was so melancholy she abhorred all company, and would not sit at table with her familiar friends, prescribes this physic above the rest, no good to be done without it. Aretus, book one chapter 7, an old physician, is of opinion, that this is enough of itself, if the party be not too far gone in sickness. Crato, in a consultation of his for a noble patient, tells him plainly, that if his highness will keep but a good diet, he will warrant him his former health. Montanus, consiliorum 27, for a nobleman of France, admonisheth his lordship to be most circumspect in his diet, or else all his other physic will be to small purpose. The same injunction I find verbatim in J Caesar Claudinus. Scoltzii, consiliorum 183. Trallianus, Laelius a Fonte Aeugubinus often brags, that he hath done more cures in this kind by rectification of diet, than all other physic besides. So that in a word I may say to most melancholy men, as the fox said to the weasel, that could not get out of the garner, and they must take care of it. Which howsoever I treat of, as proper to the meridian of melancholy, yet nevertheless, that which is here said with him in Tully, though writ especially for the good of his friends at Tarentum and Sicily, yet it will generally serve most other diseases, and help them likewise, if it be observed. Of these six non-natural things, the first is diet, properly so called, which consists in meat and drink, in which we must consider substance, quantity, quality, and that opposite to the preceding. In substance, such meats are generally commended, which are "moist, easy of digestion, and not apt to engender wind, not fried, nor roasted, but sod”, saith Valescus, Altomarus, Piso, and more "hot and moist, and of good nourishment; Crato consiliorum 21, book 2, admits roast meat, if the burnt and scorched surfaces, the brown we call it, be pared off. Salvianus, cries out on cold and dry meats; young flesh and tender is approved, as of kid, rabbits, chickens, veal, mutton, capons, hens, partridge, pheasant, quails, and all mountain birds, which are so familiar in some parts of Africa, and in Italy, and as Dublin reports, the common food of boors and clowns in Palestine. Galen takes exception at mutton, but without question he means that rammy mutton, which is in Turkey and Asia Minor, which have those great fleshy tails, of forty-eight pounds weight, as Vertomannus witnesseth. The lean of fat meat is best, and all manner of broths, and pottage, with borage, lettuce, and such wholesome herbs are excellent good, especially of a cock boiled; all spoon meat Arabians commend brains, but Laurentius, excepts against them, and so do many others; eggs are justified as a nutritious wholesome meat, butter and oil may pass, but with some limitation; so Crato confines it, and "to some men sparingly at set times, or in sauce," and so sugar and honey are approved. All sharp and sour sauces must be avoided, and spices, or at least rarely used: and so saffron sometimes in broth may be tolerated; but these things may be more freely used, as the temperature of the party is hot or cold, or as he shall find inconvenience by them. The thinnest, whitest, smallest wine is best, not thick, nor strong; and so of beer, the middle is fittest. Bread of good wheat, pure, well purged from the bran is preferred; Laurentius, would have it kneaded with rain water, if it might be gotten. Water. Pure, thin, light water by all means use, of good smell and taste, like to the air in sight, such as is soon hot, soon cold, and which Hippocrates so much approves, if at least it may be had. Rain water is purest, so that it fall not down in great drops, and be used forthwith, for it quickly putrefies. Next to it fountain water that riseth in the east, and runneth eastward, from a quick running spring, from flinty, chalky, gravelly grounds: and the longer a river runneth, it is commonly the purest, though many springs do yield the best water at their fountains. The waters in hotter countries, as in Turkey, Persia, India, within the tropics, are frequently purer than ours in the north, more subtile, thin, and lighter, as our merchants observe, by four ounces in a pound, pleasanter to drink, as good as our beer, and some of them, as Choaspis in Persia, preferred by the Persian kings, before wine itself. “Whoever has allayed his thirst with the water of the Clitorius, avoids wine, and amstemons delights in pure water only.” Many rivers I deny are not still muddy, white, thick, like those in China, Nile in Egypt, Tiber at Rome, but after they have been settled two or three days, defecate and clear, very commodious, useful and good. Many make use of deep wells, as of old in the Holy Land, lakes, cisterns, when they cannot be better provided; to fetch it in carts or gondolas, as in Venice, or camels' backs, as at Cairo in Egypt, Radzivilius observed 8000 camels daily there, employed about that business; some keep it in trunks, as in the East Indies, made four square with descending steps, and tis not lost, for I would not have any one so nice as that Grecian Calis, sister to Nicephorus, emperor of Constantinople, and married to Dominitus Silvius, duke of Venice, that out of incredible wantonness, would not use common water, would use no vulgar water; but she died, saith my author, of so foul a pure quantity, of so fulsome a disease, that no water could wash her clean. Plato would not have a traveler's lodge in a city that is not governed by laws, or hath not a quick stream running by it; for that corrupts the mind, this corrupts the health, the one corrupts the body, the other the mind. But this is more than needs, too much curiosity is naught, in time of necessity any water is allowed. However, pure water is best, and which, as Pindarus holds, is better than gold; an especial ornament it is, and "very commodious to a city", according to Vegetius, "when fresh springs are included within the walls," as at Corinth, in the midst of the town almost, there was a very high fountain fountains, a goodly mount full of fresh water springs: "if nature afford them not they must be had by art." It is a wonder to read of those stupend aqueducts, and infinite cost hath been bestowed in Rome of old, Constantinople, Carthage, Alexandria, and such populous cities, to convey good and wholesome waters: read Frontinus, Lipsius, Pliny, Strabo in his Geography. That aqueduct of Claudius was most eminent, fetched upon arches fifteen miles, each arch 109 feet high: they had fourteen such other aqueducts, besides lakes and cisterns, 700 as I take it; every house had private pipes and channels to serve them for their use. Peter Gillius, in his accurate description of Constantinople, speaks of an old cistern which he went down to see, 336 feet long, 180 feet broad, built of marble, covered over with arch-work, and sustained by 336 pillars, 12 feet asunder, and in eleven rows, to contain sweet water. Infinite cost in channels and cisterns, from the Nile to Alexandria, hath been formerly bestowed, to the admiration of these times; their cisterns are so curiously cemented and composed, that a beholder would take them to be all of one stone: when the foundation is laid, and the cistern made, their house is half built. That Segovian aqueduct in Spain, is much wondered at in these days, upon three rows of pillars, one above another, conveying sweet water to every house: but every city almost is full of such aqueducts. Amongst the rest he is eternally to be commended, that brought that new stream to the north side of London at his own charge: and Mister Otho Nicholson, founder of our waterworks and elegant conduit in Oxford. So much have all times attributed to this element, to be conveniently provided of it: although Galen hath taken exceptions at such waters, which run through leaden pipes, because of the ceruse that is generated in them, for that unctuous ceruse, which causes dysenteries and fluxes; yet as Alsarius Crucius of Genna well answers, it is opposite to common experience. If that were true, most of our Italian cities, Montpelier in France, with infinite others, would find this inconvenience, but there is no such matter. For private families, in what sort they should furnish themselves, let them consult with Petrus Crescentius, Pamphilius Hirelacus, and the rest. Amongst fishes, those are most allowed of, that live in gravelly or sandy waters, pikes, perch, trout, gudgeon, smelts, flounders, and more. Hippolytus Salvianus takes exception to the carp; but I dare boldly say with Dubravius, it is an excellent meat, if it comes not from muddy pools, that it retains not an unsavory taste. Erinacius Marinus is much commended by Oribatius, Aetius, and most of our late writers. Crato, consiliorum 21, book 2, censures all manner of fruits, as subject to putrefaction, yet tolerable at times, after meals, at second course, they keep down vapours, and have their use. Sweet fruits are best, as sweet cherries, plums, sweet apples, pearmains, and pippins, which Laurence extols, as having a peculiar property against this disease, and Plater magnifies, in every way appropriated to meet, but they must be corrected for their windiness: ripe grapes are good, and raisins of the sun, musk-melons well corrected, and sparingly used. Figs are allowed, and almonds blanched. Trallianus discommends figs, Salvianus olives and capers, which others especially like of, and so of pistick nuts. Montanus and Mercurialis out of Avenzoar, admit peaches, pears, and apples baked after meals, only corrected with sugar, and aniseed, or fennel-seed, and so they may be profitably taken, because they strengthen the stomach, and keep down vapours. The like may be said of preserved cherries, plums, marmalade of plums, quinces, and more, but not to drink after them. Pomegranates, lemons, oranges are tolerated, if they are not too sharp. Crato will admit of no herbs, but borage, bugloss, endive, fennel, aniseed, baum; Callenius and Arnoldus tolerate lettuce, spinach, beets, and more. The same Crato will allow no roots at all to be eaten. Some approve of potatoes, parsnips, but all corrected for wind. No raw salads; but as Laurentius prescribes, in broths; and so Crato commends many of them: or to use borage, hops, baum, steeped in their ordinary drink. Avenzoar magnifies the juice of a pomegranate, if it be sweet, and especially rose water, which he would have to be used in every dish, which they put in practice in those hot countries, about Damascus, where, if we may believe the relations of Vertomannus, many hogsheads of rose water are to be sold in the market at once, it is in so great request with them. Subsection two. Diet rectified in quantity. Man alone, says Cardan, eats and drinks without appetite, and uses all his pleasure without necessity, a vice of the soul, and thence come many inconveniences unto him. For there is no meat whatsoever, though otherwise wholesome and good, but if unseasonably taken, or immoderately used, more than the stomach can well bear, it will engender crudity, and do much harm. Therefore Crato advises his patient to eat but twice a day, and that at his set meals, by no means to eat without an appetite, or upon a full stomach, and to put seven hours' difference between dinner and supper. Which rule if we did observe in our colleges, it would be much better for our health: but custom, that tyrant, so prevails, that contrary to all good order and rules of physics, we scarcely admit of five. If after seven hours' tarrying he shall have no stomach, let him defer his meal, or eat very little at his ordinary time of repast. This very counsel was given by Prosper Calenus to Cardinal Caesius, laboring of this disease; and Platerus prescribes it to a patient of his, to be most severely kept. Guianerius admits of three meals a day, but Montanus, consiliorum 23, Ab Italo, ties him precisely to two. And as he must not eat too much, so he may not absolutely fast; for as Celsus contends, and Jacchinus, repletion and starvation may both do harm in two contrary extremes. Moreover, that which he doth eat, must be well chewed, and not hastily gobbled, for that causes crudity and wind; and by all means to eat no more than he can well digest. "Some think", saith Trincavelius, "the more they eat the more they nourish themselves:" eat and live, as the proverb is, "not knowing that only repairs man, which is well concocted, not that which is devoured." Melancholy men most part have good appetites, but ill digestion, and for that cause they must be sure to rise with an appetite; and that which Socrates and Disarius the physicians in Macrobius so much require, Saint Hierom enjoins the peasant to eat and drink no more than, will satisfy hunger and thirst. Lessius, the Jesuit, holds twelve, thirteen, or fourteen ounces, or in our northern countries, sixteen at most, for all students, weaklings, and such as lead an idle sedentary life, of meat, bread, and else, a fit proportion for a whole day, and as much or little more of drink. Nothing plagues the body and mind sooner than to be still fed, to eat and gorge beyond all measure, as many do. “By overmuch eating and continual feasts they stifle nature, and choke up themselves; which, had they lived coarsely, or like galley slaves had been tied to an oar, might have happily prolonged many fair years.” A great inconvenience comes by variety of dishes, which causeth the preceding distemperature, "than which", saith Avicenna, "nothing is worse; to feed on diversity of meats, or too much," Sertorius-like, to dine in light, and as commonly they do in Muscovy and Iceland, to prolong their meals all day long, or all night. Our northern countries offend especially in this, and we in this island, largely living on food and mud, as Polydore notes, are most liberal feeders, but to our own hurt. "Excess of meat breeds sickness, and gluttony causes choleric diseases: by surfeiting many perish, but he that dieteth himself prolongeth his life," Ecclesiates thirty-seven, 29, 30. We count it a great glory for a man to have his table daily furnished with variety of meats: but hear the physician, he pulls thee by the ear as thou sittest, and telleth thee, "that nothing can be more noxious to thy health than such variety and plenty." Temperance is a bridle of gold, and he that can use it aright. Will it make a man a God. To preserve thine honor, health, and to avoid therefore all those inflations, torments, obstructions, crudities, and diseases that come by a full diet, the best way is to feed sparingly of one or two dishes at most, to have the stomach is well settled, as Seneca calls it, "to choose one of many, and to feed on that alone," as Crato advises his patient. The same counsel Prosper Calenus gives to Cardinal Caesius, to use a moderate and simple diet: and though his table be jovially furnished by reason of his state and guests, yet for his own part to single out some one savory dish and feed on it. The same is inculcated by Crato, consiliorum 9, book two, to a noble personage affected with this grievance, he would have his highness to dine or sup alone, without all his honorable attendance and courtly company, with a private friend or so, a dish or two, a cup of Rhenish wine, and more. Montanus, consiliorum 24 for a noble matron enjoins her one dish, and by no means to drink between meals. The like, consiliorum 229, or not to eat till he be an hungry, which rule Berengarius did most strictly observe, as Hilbertus,writes in his life, To whom it has never been, Drink before thirst, nor food before hunger. And which all temperate men do constantly keep. It is a frequent solemnity still used with us, when friends meet, to go to the alehouse or tavern, they are not sociable otherwise: and if they visit one another's houses, they must both eat and drink. I criticize it not moderately used; but to some men nothing can be more offensive; they had better, I speak it with Saint Ambrose, pour so much water in their shoes. It much avails likewise to keep good order in our diet, “to eat liquid things first, broths, fish, and such meats as are sooner corrupted in the stomach; harder meats of digestion must come last." Crato would have the supper less than the dinner, which Cardan, disallows, and that by the authority of Galen, and for four reasons he will have the biggest supper: I have read many treatises to this purpose, I know not how it may concern some few sick men, but for my part generally for all, I should subscribe to that custom of the Romans, to make a sparing dinner, and a liberal supper; all their preparation and invitation was still at supper, no mention of dinner. Many reasons I could give, but when all is said pro and con, Cardan's rule is best, to keep that which we are accustomed to, though it be naught, and to follow our disposition and appetite in some things is not lost; to eat sometimes of a dish which is hurtful, if we have an extraordinary liking to it. Alexander Severus loved hares and apples above all other meats, as Lampridius relates in his life: one pope pork, another peacock, and more; what harm came of it? I conclude that our own experience is the best physician; that diet which is most propitious to one, is often pernicious to another, such is the variety of palates, humors, and temperatures, let every man observe, and be a law unto himself. Tiberius, in Tacitus, did laugh at all such, that thirty years of age would ask counsel of others concerning matters of diet; I say the same. These few rules of diet he that keeps, shall surely find great ease and speedy remedy by it. It is a wonder to relate that prodigious temperance of some hermits, anchorites, and fathers of the church: he that shall but read their lives, written by Jerome, Athanasius, and others, how abstemious heathens have been in this kind, those Curii and Fabritii, those old philosophers, as Pliny records, Xenophon. Emperors and kings, as Nicephorus relates, and Mauritius, Ludovicus Pius, and more, and that admirable example of Ludovicus Cornarus, a patrician of Venice, cannot but admire them. This they have done voluntarily and in health; what shall these private men do that are visited with sickness, and necessarily enjoined to recover, and continue their health? It is a hard thing to observe a strict diet, and he who lives with medicine lives miserably, as the saying is, what kind of life would this very thing be if you were deprived of these? as good be buried, as so much debarred of his appetite; evil medicine has passed, the physic is more troublesome than the disease, so he complained in the poet, so thou thinkest: yet he that loves himself will easily endure this little misery, to avoid a greater inconvenience; it is better to do this than to do worse. And as Tully holds, "better be a temperate old man than a lascivious youth." Tis the only sweet thing, which he adviseth, so to moderate ourselves, that we may have old age in youth, and old age in youth, be youthful in our old age, staid in our youth, discreet and temperate in both. Member two. Retention and Evacuation rectified. I have declared in the causes what harm costiveness hath done in procuring this disease; if it be so noxious, the opposite must needs be good, or mean at least, as indeed it is, and to this cure necessarily required; it is most profitable, says Montaltus, it avails very much. Altomarus, "commends walking in a morning, into some fair green pleasant fields, but by all means first, by art or nature, he will have these ordinary excrements evacuated." Piso calls it, Beneficium ventris, the benefit, help or pleasure of the belly, for it doth much ease it. Laurentius, Cratus, consiliorum 21, book two, you prescribe it once a day at least: where nature is defective, art must supply, by those lenitive electuaries, suppositories, seasoned prunes, turpentine, clysters, as shall be shown. Prosper Calenus, in his book, of black bile, he recommends clysters in hypochondriacal melancholy, still to be used as occasion serves; Peter Cnemander in a consultation of his for a hypochondriac, will have his patient continually loose, and to that end sets down there many forms of potions and clysters. Mercurial, consiliorum 88, if this benefit come not of its own accord, you prescribe clysters in the first place: so doth Montanus, consiliorum 24 31 and 229, he commends turpentine to that purpose: the same he ingeminates, consiliorum 230, for an Italian abbot. Tis very good to wash his hands and face often, to shift his clothes, to have fair linen about him, to be decently and comely attired, for dirt vitiant, nastiness defiles and dejects any man that is so voluntarily, or compelled by want, it dulleth the spirits. Baths are either artificial or natural, both have their special uses in this malady, and as Alexander supposed, yield as speedy a remedy as any other physic whatsoever. Aetius would have them daily used, constant bathing, Galen cracks how many several cures he has performed in this kind by the use of baths alone, and Rufus pills, moistening them which are otherwise dry. Rhasis makes it a principal care, the whole care being in moistening, to bathe and afterwards anoint with oil. Jason Pratensis, Laurentius, and Montanus set down their peculiar forms of artificial baths. Crato consiliorum 17, book two, fair water alone, and in his following counsel, we have found that the bath of fresh water alone is most often beneficial. So doth Fuchsius, Frisimelica, in Trincavelius. Some besides herbs prescribe a ram's head and other things to be boiled. Fernelius, consiliorum 44, will have them used ten or twelve days together; to which he must enter fasting, and so continue in a moderate heat, and after that frictions all over the body. Lelius Aegubinus, consiliorum 142, and Christopher Aererus, in a consultation of his, hold once or twice a week sufficient to bathe, the "water to be warm, not hot, for fear of sweating." FelixPlater, for a melancholy lawyer, "will have lotions of the head still joined to these baths, with a ley wherein capital herbs have been boiled." Laurentius speaks of baths of milk, which I find approved by many others. And still after bath, the body to be anointed with oil of bitter almonds, of violets, new or fresh butter, capon's grease, especially the backbone, and then lotions of the head, embrocations, and more. These kinds of baths have been in former times much frequented, and variously varied, and are still in general use in those eastern countries. The Romans had their public baths very sumptuous and stupendous, as those of Antoninus and Diocletian. Pliny says there were an infinite number of them in Rome, and mightily frequented; some bathed seven times a day, as Commodus the emperor is reported to have done; usually twice a day, and they were after anointed with most costly ointments: rich women bathed themselves in milk, some in the milk of five hundred she-asses at once: we have many ruins of such, baths found in this island, among those walls and rubbish of old Roman towns. Lipsius, Rosinus, Scot of Antwerp, and other antiquaries, tell strange stories of their baths. Gillius, reckons up 155 public baths in Constantinople, of fair building; they are still frequented in that city by the Turks of all sorts, men and women, and all over Greece, and those hot countries; to wipe away like that fulsomeness of sweat, to which they are there subject. Busbecius, in his epistles, is very copious in describing the manner of them, how their women go covered, a maid following with a box of ointment to rub them. The richer sort have private baths in their houses; the poorer go to the common, and are generally so curious in this behalf, that they will not eat nor drink until they have bathed, before and after meals some, "and will not make water, but they will wash their hands, or go to stool." Leo Afer makes mention of one hundred several baths at Fez in Africa, most sumptuous, and such as have great revenues belonging to them. Buxtorfius chapter 14,

Part One, Introduction: https://rumble.com/v4d2ddr-anatomy-of-melancholy-part-1-of-4-introduction.-a-puke-tm-audiobook.html THE FIRST PARTITION. THE FIRST SECTION, MEMBER, SUBSECTION. Man's Excellency, Fall, Miseries, Infirmities; The causes of them. Man's Excellency. Man the most excellent and noble creature of the world, "the principal and mighty work of God, wonder of Nature," as Zoroaster calls him; a miracle of audacious nature, "the marvel of marvels," as Plato; "the abridgment and epitome of the world," as Pliny; microcosm, a little world, a model of the world, sovereign lord of the earth, viceroy of the world, sole commander and governor of all the creatures in it; to whose empire they are subject in particular, and yield obedience; far surpassing all the rest, not in body only, but in soul; an image of an image, created to God's own image, to that immortal and incorporeal substance, with all the faculties and powers belonging unto it; was at first pure, divine, perfect, happy, "created after God in true holiness and righteousness;" Congruent to God, free from all manner of infirmities, and put in Paradise, to know God, to praise and glorify him, to do his will, that he may give birth to gods like the gods, as an old poet says, to propagate the church. Man's Fall and Misery. But this most noble creature, Alas, a sad and tearful change, one exclaims, O pitiful change! is fallen from that he was, and forfeited his estate, become a miserable man, a castaway, a caitiff, one of the most miserable creatures of the world, if he be considered in his own nature, an unregenerate man, and so much obscured by his fall that, some few relics excepted, he is inferior to a beast, "Man in honor that understandeth not, is like unto beasts that perish," so David esteems him: a monster by stupendous metamorphoses, a fox, a dog, a hog, what not? Much changed from that? How much altered from that he was; before blessed and happy, now miserable and accursed; "He must eat his meat in sorrow," subject to death and all manner of infirmities, all kinds of calamities. A Description of Melancholy. “Great travail is created for all men, and an heavy yoke on the sons of Adam, from the day that they go out of their mother's womb, until that day they return to the mother of all things Namely, their thoughts, and fear of their hearts, and their imagination of things they wait for, and the day of death. From him that sitteth in the glorious throne, to him that sitteth beneath in the earth and ashes; from him that is clothed in blue silk and weareth a crown, to him that is clothed in simple linen. Wrath, envy, trouble, and restlessness, and fear of death, and rigor, and strife, and such things come to both man and beast, but sevenfold to the ungodly." All this befalls him in this life, and peradventure eternal misery in the life to come. Impulsive Cause of Man's Misery and Infirmities. The impulsive cause of these miseries in man, this privation or destruction of God's image, the cause of death and diseases, of all temporal and eternal punishments, was the sin of our first parent Adam, in eating of the forbidden fruit, by the devil's instigation and allurement. With these disobedience, pride, ambition, intemperance, incredulity, curiosity; from whence proceeded original sin, and that general corruption of mankind, as from a fountain, flowed all bad inclinations and actual transgressions which cause our several calamities inflicted upon us for our sins. And this belike is that which our fabulous poets have shadowed unto us in the tale of Pandora's box, which being opened through her curiosity, filled the world full of all manner of diseases. It is not curiosity alone, but those other crying sins of ours, which pull these several plagues and miseries upon our heads. For where there is sin, there is a tempest, as Chrysostom well observe. "Fools by reason of their transgression, and because of their iniquities, are afflicted." “Fear comes like sudden desolation, and destruction like a whirlwind, affliction and anguish,” because they did not fear God. "Are you shaken with wars?" as Cyprian well urges to Demetrius, “are you molested with dearth and famine? Is your health crushed with raging diseases? Is mankind generally tormented with epidemic maladies? Tis all for your sins," Haggai, One 9, 10; Amos One; Jerimiah Seven. God is angry, punisheth and threatenseth, because of their obstinacy and stubbornness, they will not turn unto him. "If the earth be barren then for want of rain, if dry and squalid, it yields no fruit, if your fountains be dried up, your wine, corn, and oil blasted, if the air be corrupted, and men troubled with diseases, tis by reason of their sins:" which like the blood of Abel cry loud to heaven for vengeance, Lamentations, five 15. "That we have sinned, therefore our hearts are heavy," Isaiah Six, 11, and 12. “We roar like bears, and mourn like doves, and want health, and more, for our sins and trespasses.” But this we cannot endure to hear or to take notice of, Jerimiah, two, 30. "We are smitten in vain and receive no correction;" and chapter five, 3. “Thou hast stricken them, but they have not grieved; they have refused to receive correction; they have not returned. Pestilence he hath sent, but they have not turned to him," Amos Four. Herod could not avoid John the Baptist, nor Domitian endure Apollonius to tell the causes of the plague at Ephesus, his injustice, incest, adultery, and the like. To punish therefore this blindness and obstinacy of ours as a concomitant cause and principal agent, is God's just judgment in bringing these calamities upon us, to chastise us, I say, for our sins, and to satisfy God's wrath. For the law requires obedience or punishment, as you may read at large, Deuteronomy. Twenty eight, 15. "If they will not obey the Lord, and keep his commandments and ordinances, then all these curses shall come upon them." "Cursed in the town and in the field, and more." "Cursed in the fruit of the body, and more." "The Lord shall send thee trouble and shame, because of thy wickedness." And a little after, “The Lord shall smite thee with the botch of Egypt, and with emrods, and scab, and itch, and thou canst not be healed; with madness, blindness, and astonishing of heart." This Paul seconds, Romans two, 9. "Tribulation and anguish on the soul of every man that does evil." Or else these chastisements are inflicted upon us for our humiliation, to exercise and try our patience here in this life to bring us home, to make us to know God ourselves, to inform and teach us wisdom. “Therefore is my people gone into captivity, because they had no knowledge; therefore is the wrath of the Lord kindled against his people, and he hath stretched out his hand upon them." He is desirous of our salvation. Eager for our salvation, says Lemnius, and for that cause pulls us by the ear many times, to put us in mind of our duties: "That they which erred might have understanding, as Isaiah speaks twenty-nine, 24 and so to be reformed." "I am afflicted, and at the point of death," so David confesseth of himself, Psalm eighty-eight, verse 15, verse 9. "Mine eyes are sorrowful through mine affliction:" and that made him turn unto God. Great Alexander in the midst of all his prosperity, deified by a company of parasites, and now made a god, when he saw one of his wounds bleed, remembered that he was but a man, and remitted of his pride. As Pliny well perceived; "In sickness the mind reflects upon itself, with judgment surveys itself, and abhors its former courses;" so much so that he concludes to his friend Marius, "that it were the period of all philosophy, if we could so continue to sound, or perform but a part of that which we promised to do, being sick." Whoso is wise then, will consider these things," as David did in Psalm one hundred and forty four, verse last, and whatever fortune befalls him, make use of it. If he be in sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity, seriously to recount with himself, why this or that malady, misery, this or that incurable disease is inflicted upon him; it may be for his good, so it is expedient as Peter said of his daughter's illness. Bodily sickness is for his soul's health, he would have perished if he had not perished, had he not been visited, he had utterly perished; for "the Lord correcteth him whom he loveth, even as a father doth his child in whom he delighteth." If he be safe and sound on the other side, and free from all manner of infirmity; and to whom May grace, form, and health abound. And the world was won, not by lack of purses. And that he has grace, beauty, favor, health, A clean diet, and abound in wealth. Yet in the midst of his prosperity, let him remember that caveat of Moses, "Beware that he do not forget the Lord his God;" that he be not puffed up, but acknowledge them to be his good gifts and benefits, and "the more he hath, to be more thankful," as Agapetianus adviseth and use them aright. Instrumental Causes of our Infirmities. Now the instrumental causes of these our infirmities, are as diverse as the infirmities themselves; stars, heavens, elements, and more. And all those creatures which God hath made, are armed against sinners. They were indeed once good in themselves, and that they are now many of them pernicious unto us, is not in their nature, but our corruption, which hath caused it. For from the fall of our first parent Adam, they have been changed, the earth accursed, the influence of stars, altered, the four elements, beasts, birds, plants, are now ready to offend us. "The principal things for the use of man, are water, fire, iron, salt, meal, wheat, honey, milk, oil, wine, clothing, good to the godly, to the sinners turned to evil," Ecclesiasticus, also known as Sirch, thirty-nine, 26. "Fire, and hail, and famine, and dearth, all these are created for vengeance," Ecclesiasticus. Thirty nine, 29. The heavens threaten us with their comets, stars, planets, with their great conjunctions, eclipses, oppositions, quartiles, and such unfriendly aspects. The air with its meteors, thunder and lightning, intemperate heat and cold, mighty winds, tempests, unseasonable weather; from which proceed dearth, famine, plague, and all sorts of epidemic diseases, consuming infinite myriads of men. At Cairo in Egypt, every third year, as it is related by Boterus, and others, 300,000 on the day of the plague; and 200,000, in Constantinople, every fifth or seventh at the utmost. How doth the earth terrify and oppress us with terrible earthquakes, which are most frequent in China, Japan, and those eastern climates, swallowing up sometimes six cities at once? How doth the water rage with his inundations, irruptions, flinging down towns, cities, villages, bridges, and more, besides shipwrecks; whole islands are sometimes suddenly overwhelmed with all their inhabitants in Zealand, Holland, and many parts of the continent drowned, as the lake Erne in Ireland? We see nothing but the corpses of the citadel in the open sea. In the fens of Friesland in 1230, by reason of tempests, the sea drowned many thousands of men and cattle without number, all the country almost, men and cattle in it. How doth the fire rage, that merciless element, consuming in an instant whole cities? What town of any antiquity or note hath not been once, again and again, by the fury of this merciless element, defaced, ruined, and left desolate? in a word Whom the fire spares, the sea doth drown; whom sea. Pestilent air doth send to clay; Whom war escapes, sickness takes away. To descend to more particulars, how many creatures are at deadly feud with men? Lions, wolves, bears, and more. Some with hoofs, horns, tusks, teeth, nails: How many noxious serpents and venomous creatures, ready to offend us with stings, breath, sight, or quite kill us? How many pernicious fishes, plants, gums, fruits, seeds, flowers, and so on. could I reckon up on a sudden, which by their very smell many of them, touch, taste, cause some grievous malady, if not death itself? Some make mention of a thousand several poisons: but these are but trifles in respect. The greatest enemy to man, is man, who by the devil's instigation is still ready to do mischief, his own executioner, a wolf, a devil to himself, and others. We are all brethren in Christ, or at least should be, members of one body, servants of one lord, and yet no fiend can so torment, insult over, tyrannise, vex, as one man doth another. Let me not fall therefore, saith David, when wars, plague, famine were offered, into the hands of men, merciless and wicked men: There are scarcely any men worthy of this name, But wolves have more ferocity. We can for the most part foresee these epidemic diseases, and probably avoid them; Dearths, tempests, plagues, our astrologers foretell us; Earthquakes, inundations, ruins of houses, consuming fires, come by little and little, or make some noise beforehand; but the knaveries, impostures, injuries and villainies of men no art can avoid. We can keep our professed enemies from our cities, by gates, walls and towers, defend ourselves from thieves and robbers by vigilance and weapons; but this malice of men, and their pernicious endeavours, no caution can divert, no vigilance foresee, we have so many secret plots and devices to mischief one another. Sometimes by the devil's help as magicians, witches: sometimes by impostures, mixtures, poisons, stratagems, single combats, wars, we hack and hew, as if we were born to execution, like Cadmus' soldiers born to consume one another. Tis an ordinary thing to read of a hundred and two hundred thousand men slain in a battle. Besides all manner of tortures, brazen bulls, racks, wheels, strappadoes, guns, engines, and more. For one human body there are more tortures than members: We have invented more torturing instruments, than there be several members in a man's body, as Cyprian well observes. To come nearer yet, our own parents by their offences, indiscretion and intemperance, are our mortal enemies. "The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge." They cause our grief many times, and put upon us hereditary diseases, inevitable infirmities: they torment us, and we are ready to injure our posterity; And yet with crimes unknown to us, Our sons shall mark the coming age their own; And the latter end of the world, as Paul foretold, is still like to be the worst. We are thus bad by nature, bad by kind, but far worse by art, every man the greatest enemy unto himself. We study many times to undo ourselves, abusing those good gifts which God hath bestowed upon us, health, wealth, strength, wit, learning, art, memory to our own destruction, Your destruction from you. As Judas Maccabeus killed Apollonius with his own weapons, we arm ourselves to our own overthrows; and use reason, art, judgment, all that should help us, as so many instruments to undo us. Hector gave Ajax a sword, which so long as he fought against enemies, served for his help and defense; but after he began to hurt harmless creatures with it, he turned to his own harmless bowels. Those excellent means God hath bestowed upon us, well employed, cannot but much avail us; but if otherwise perverted, they ruin and confound us: and so by reason of our indiscretion and weakness they commonly do, we have too many instances. This Saint Austin acknowledges of himself in his humble confessions, "promptness of wit, memory, eloquence, they were God's good gifts, but he did not use them to his glory." If you will particularly know how, and by what means, consult physicians, and they will tell you, that it is in offending in some of those six non-natural things, of which I shall dilate more at large; they are the causes of our infirmities, our surfeiting, and drunkenness, our immoderate insatiable lust, and prodigious riot. More rubbish than a sword, it is a true saying, the board consumes more than the sword. Our intemperance it is, that pulls so many several incurable diseases upon our heads, that hastens old age, perverts our temperature, and brings upon us sudden death. And last of all, that which crucifies us most, is our own folly, madness, which Jupiter destroys, dementes; by subtraction of his assisting grace God permits it, weakness, want of government, our facility and proneness in yielding to several lusts, in giving way to every passion and disturbance of the mind: by which means we metamorphose ourselves and degenerate into beasts. All which that prince of poets observed of Agamemnon, that when he was well pleased, and could moderate his passion, he was, os eyes and Jovi par: like Jupiter in feature, Mars in valour, Pallas in wisdom, another god; but when he became angry, he was a lion, a tiger, a dog, and more, there appeared no sign or likeness of Jupiter in him; so we, as long as we are ruled by reason, correct our inordinate appetite, and conform ourselves to God's word, are as so many saints: but if we give reins to lust, anger, ambition, pride, and follow our own ways, we degenerate into beasts, transform ourselves, overthrow our constitutions, provoke God to anger, and heap upon us this of melancholy, and all kinds of incurable diseases, as a just and deserved punishment of our sins. Subsection Two. The Definition, Number, Division of Diseases. What a disease is, almost every physician defines. Fernelius calls it an "affection of the body contrary to nature." Fuschius and Crato, "an hindrance, hurt, or alteration of any action of the body, or part of it." Tholosanus, “a dissolution of that league which is between body and soul, and a disturbance of it; as health the perfection, and makes to the preservation of it." Labeo in Agellius, "an ill habit of the body, opposite to nature, hindering the use of it." Others otherwise, all to this effect. Number of Diseases. How many diseases there are, is a question not yet determined; Pliny reckons up 300 from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot: elsewhere he says, the multitude of diseases is infinite, their number is infinite. However it was in those times, it boots not; in our days I am sure the number is much augmented: Emaciation, and new fever, The band lies down on the ground. For besides many epidemic diseases unheard of, and altogether unknown to Galen and Hippocrates, as scurvy, small-pox, plica, sweating sickness, Gallic disease, and more, we have many proper and peculiar almost to every part. No man free from some Disease or other. No man among us so sound, of so good a constitution, that hath not some impediment of body or mind. We all suffer from our own infirmities, we have all our infirmities, first or last, more or less. There will be peradventure in an age, or one of a thousand, like Zenophilus the musician in Pliny, that may happily live 105 years without any manner of impediment; from Pollius Romulus, that can preserve himself "with wine and oil;" a man as fortunate as Quintus Metellus, of whom Valerius so much brags; a man as healthy as Otto Herwardus, a senator of Augsburg in Germany, whom Leovitius the astrologer brings in for an example and instance of certainty in his art; who because he had the significators in his birth fortunate, and free from the hostile aspects of Saturn and Mars, being a very cold man, "could not remember that ever he was sick." Paracelsus may brag that he could make a man live 400 years or more, if he might bring him up from his infancy, and diet him as he lists; and some physicians hold, that there is no certain period of man's life; but it may still by temperance and physic be prolonged. We find in the meantime, by common experience, that no man can escape, but that of Hesiod is true: The earth's full of maladies, and full the sea, Which set upon us both by night and day. Division of Diseases. If you require a more exact division of these ordinary diseases which are incident to men, I refer you to physicians; they will tell you of acute and chronic, first and secondary, lethals, salutares, errant, fixed, simple, compound, connected, or consequent, belonging to parts or the whole, in habit, or in disposition, and more. My division at this time, as most befitting my purpose, shall be into those of the body and mind. For them of the body, a brief catalog of which Fuschius hath made, Institut, book 3, section one, chapter 11. I refer you to the voluminous tomes of Galen, Areteus, Rhasis, Avicenna, Alexander, Paulus Aetius, Gordonerius: and those exact Neoterics, Savanarola, Capivaccius, Donatus Altomarus, Hercules de Saxonia, Mercurialis, Victorius Faventinus, Wecker, Piso, and more, that have methodically and elaborately written of them all. Those of the mind and head I will briefly handle, and apart. Subsection Three. Division of the Diseases of the Head. These diseases of the mind, forasmuch as they have their chief seat and organs in the head, which are commonly repeated amongst the diseases of the head which are diverse, and vary much according to their site. For in the head, as there be several parts, so there be diverse grievances, which according to that division of Heurnius, which he takes out of Arculanus, are inward or outward, to omit all others which pertain to eyes and ears, nostrils, gums, teeth, mouth, palate, tongue, weezle, chops, face, and others, belonging properly to the brain, as baldness, falling of hair, fur, lice, and more. Inward belonging to the skins next to the brain, called dura and pia mater, as all headaches, and else, or to the ventricles, stems, kells, tunicles, creeks, and parts of it, and their passions, as caro, vertigo, nightmare, apoplexy, falling sickness. The diseases of the nerves, cramps, stupor, convulsion, tremor, palsy: or belonging to the excrements of the brain, catarrhs, sneezing, rheums, distillations: or else those that pertain to the substance of the brain itself, in which they are conceived frenzy, lethargy, melancholy, madness, weak memory, drowsiness, or Coma Vigilia and vigil Coma. Out of these again I will single such as properly belong to the fantasy, or imagination, or reason itself, which Laurentius calls the disease of the mind; and Hildesheim, diseases of the imagination, or of injured reason, which are three or four in number, frenzy, madness, melancholy, dotage, and their kinds: as hydrophobia, lycanthropia, chorus of the holy vine, demonic diseases, Saint Vitus's dance, possession of devils, which I will briefly touch and point at, insisting especially in this of melancholy, as more eminent than the rest, and that through all his kinds, causes, symptoms, prognostics, cures: as Lonicerus hath done about apoplexy, and many other of such particular diseases. Not that I find fault with those who have written of this subject before, as Jason Pratensis, Laurentius, Montaltus, Thomas Bright, and others, they have done very well in their several kinds and methods; yet that which one omits, another may haply see; that which one contracts, another may enlarge. To conclude with Scribanius, “that which they had neglected, or perfunctorily handled, we may more thoroughly examine; that which is obscurely delivered in them, may be perspicuously dilated and amplified by us:” and so made more familiar and easy for every man's capacity, and the common good, which is the chief end of my discourse. Subsection Four. Dotage, Frenzy, Madness, Hydrophobia, Lycanthropia, Chorus sancti Viti, Extasis. Delirium, Dotage. Dotage, fatuity, or folly, is a common name to all the following species, as some will have it. Laurentius and Altomarus comprehended madness, melancholy, and the rest under this name, and call it the highest genus of them all. If it be distinguished from them, it is natural or congenital, which comes by some defect of the organs, and too much brain, as we see in our common fools; and it is for the most part intended or remitted in particular men, and thereupon some are wiser than others: or else it is acquired, an appendix or symptom of some other disease, which comes or goes; or if it continues, a sign of melancholy itself. Frenzy. Phrenitis, which the Greeks derive from the word other-wise, is a disease of the mind, with a continual madness or dotage, which hath an acute fever annexed, or else an inflammation of the brain, or the membranes or cells of it, with an acute fever, which causes madness and dotage. It differs from melancholy and madness, because their dotage is without an illness: this continual, with waking, or memory decayed, and more. Melancholy is most part silent, this clamorous; and many such like differences are assigned by physicians. Madness. Madness, frenzy, and melancholy are confounded by Celsus, and many writers; others leave out frenzy, and make madness and melancholy but one disease, which Jason Pratensis especially labors, and that they differ only a second greater or less, in quantity alone, the one being a degree to the other, and both proceeding from one reason They differ in intensity and remiss degree, says Gordonius, as the humor is intended or remitted. Of the same mind is Areteus, Alexander Tertullianus, Guianerius, Savanarola, Heurnius; and Galen himself writes promiscuously of them both by reason of their affinity: but most of our neoterics do handle them apart, whom I will follow in this treatise. Madness is therefore defined to be a violent endowment; or raving without a fever, far more violent than melancholy, full of anger and clamor, horrible looks, actions, gestures, troubling the patients with far greater vehemency both of body and mind, without all fear and sorrow, with such impetuous force and boldness, that sometimes three or four men cannot hold them. Differing only in this from frenzy, that it is without a fever, and their memory is most part better. It hath the same causes as the other, as choler adust, and blood incensed, brains inflamed, and more. Fracastorius adds, "a due time, and full age" to this definition, to distinguish it from children, and will have it confirmed impotence, to separate it from such as accidentally come and go again, as by taking henbane, nightshade, wine, and more. Of this fury there be different kinds; ecstasy, which is familiar with some persons, as Cardan says of himself, he could be in one when he lists; in which the Indian priests deliver their oracles, and the witches in Lapland, as Olaus Magnus writesth, Book 3, chapter 18. To predict all ecstasy, answer all questions in an ecstasy you will ask; what your friends do, where they are, how they fare, and more. The other species of this fury are enthusiasms, revelations, and visions, so often mentioned by Gregory and Beda in their works; obsession or possession of devils, sibylline prophets, and poetical furies; such as come by eating noxious herbs, tarantulas stinging, and others, which some reduce to this. The most known are these, lycanthropy, hydrophobia, the chorus of the holy vine. Lycanthropia. Lycanthropia, which Avicenna calls cucubuth, others wolf-madness, or wolf-madness, when men run howling about graves and fields in the night, and will not be persuaded but that they are wolves, or some such beasts. Aetius and Paulus call it a kind of melancholy; but I should rather refer it to madness, as most do. Some make a doubt of it whether there be any such disease. Donat ab Altomari says, that he saw two of them in his time: Wierus tells a story of such a one at Padua in 1541, that would not believe to the contrary, but that he was a wolf. He hath another instance of a Spaniard, who thought himself a bear; Forrestus confirms as much by many examples; one amongst the rest of which he was an eyewitness, at Alcmaer in Holland, a poor husbandman that still hunted about graves, and kept in churchyards, of a pale, black, ugly, and fearful look. Such belike, or little better, were king Praetus' daughters, that thought themselves kine. And Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel, as some interpreters hold, was only troubled with this kind of madness. This disease perhaps gave occasion to that bold assertion of Pliny, "some men were turned into wolves in his time, and from wolves to men again:" and to that fable of Pausanias, of a man that was ten years a wolf, and afterwards turned to his former shape: to Ovid's tale of Lycaon, and more. He that is desirous to hear of this disease, or more examples, let him read Austin in his eighteenth book on the City of God, chapter 5. Mizaldus, centenial 5, 77, Sckenkius, book one, Hildesheim, Talk two of Mania. Forrestus book 10 of diseases of the brain and others. This malady, says Avicenna, troubles men most in February, and is nowadays frequent in Bohemia and Hungary, according to Heurnius. Scheretzius will have it common in Livonia. They lie hid most part all day, and go abroad in the night, barking, howling, at graves and deserts; “they have usually hollow eyes, scabbed legs and thighs, very dry and pale,” said Altomarus; he gives a reason there of all the symptoms, and sets down a brief cure of them. Hydrophobia is a kind of madness, well known in every village, which comes by the biting of a mad dog, or scratching, says Aurelianus; touching, or smelling alone sometimes as Sckenkius proves, and is incident to many other creatures as well as men: so called because the parties affected cannot endure the sight of water, or any liquor, supposing still they see a mad dog in it. And which is more wonderful; though they be very dry, as in this malady they are, they will rather die than drink: about Venenis Caelius Aurelianus, an ancient writer, makes a doubt whether this Hydrophobia be a passion of the body or the mind. The part affected is the brain: the cause, poison that comes from the mad dog, which is so hot and dry, that it consumes all the moisture in the body. Francisci Hildesheim relates of some that died so mad; and being cut up, had no water, scarce blood, or any moisture left in them. To such as are so affected, the fear of water begins at fourteen days after they are bitten, to some again not till forty or sixty days after: commonly saith Heurnius, they begin to rave, fly water and glasses, to look red, and swell in the face, about twenty days after, if some remedy be not taken in the meantime, to lie awake, to be pensive, sad, to see strange visions, to bark and howl, to fall into a swoon, and oftentimes fits of the falling sickness Some say, little things like whelps will be seen in their urine. If any of these signs appear, they are past recovery. Many times these symptoms will not appear until six or seven months after, says Codronchus; and sometimes not till seven or eight years, as Guianerius; twelve as Albertus; six or eight months after, as Galen holds. Baldus the great lawyer died of it: an Augustine friar, and a woman in Delft, that were Forrestus' patients, were miserably consumed with it. The common cure in the country, for such at least as dwell near the seaside, is to duck them over head and ears in sea water; some use charms: every good wife can prescribe medicines. But the best cure to be had in such cases, is from the most approved physicians; they that will read of them, may consult with Dioscorides, book six c 37, Heurnius, Hildesheim, Capivaccius, Forrestus, Sckenkius and before all others Codronchus an Italian, who hath lately written two exquisite books on the subject. Chorus sancti Viti, or The Saint vine's dance; the lascivious dance, Paracelsus calls it, because they that are taken from it, can do nothing but dance till they be dead, or cured. It is so called, for that the parties so troubled were wont to go to Saint Vitus for help, and after they had danced there a while, they were certainly freed. Tis strange to hear how long they will dance, and in what manner, over stools, forms, tables; even great bellied women sometimes, and yet never hurt their children, will dance so long that they can stir neither hand nor foot, but seem to be quite dead. One in red clothes they cannot abide. Music above all things they love, and therefore the magistrates in Germany will hire musicians to play to them, and some lusty sturdy companions to dance with them. This disease hath been very common in Germany, as appears by those relations of Sckenkius, and Paracelsus in his book of Madness, who brags how many several persons he hath cured of it. Felix Platerus, alienatio mentis, chapter 3, reports of a woman in Basil whom he saw, that danced a whole month together. The Arabians call it a kind of palsy. Bodine, known as Jean Bodin, in his fifth book of Republic chapter 1, speaks of this infirmity; Monavius in his last epistle to Scoltizius, and in another to Dudithus, where you may read more of it. The last kind of madness or melancholy, is that demoniacal, if I may so call it, obsession or possession of devils, which Platerus and others would have to be preternatural: stupendous things are said of them, their actions, gestures, contortions, fasting, prophesying, speaking languages they were never taught, and more. Many strange stories are related of them, which because some will not allow, for Deacon and Darrel have written large volumes on this subject pro and con. I voluntarily omit. Fuschius, Institution book 3, section one chapter 11, Felix Plater, Laurentius, add to these another fury that proceeds from love, and another from study, another divine or religious fury; but these more properly belong to melancholy; of all which I will speak apart, intending to write a whole book of them. Subsection Five. Melancholy in Disposition, improperly so called, Equivocations. Melancholy, the subject of our present discourse, is either in disposition or habit. In disposition, it is that transitory melancholy which goes and comes upon every small occasion of sorrow, need, sickness, trouble, fear, grief, passion, or disturbance of the mind, any manner of care, discontent, or thought, which causes anguish, dullness, heaviness and vexation of spirit, any ways opposite to pleasure, mirth, joy, delight, causing frowardness in us, or a dislike. In which equivocal and improper sense, we call him melancholy that is dull, sad, sour, lumpish, ill disposed, solitary, any way moved, or displeased. And from these melancholy dispositions, no man living is free, no stoic, none so wise, none so happy, none so patient, so generous, so godly, so divine, that can vindicate himself; so well composed, but more or less, some time or other he feels the smart of it. Melancholy in this sense is the character of mortality. "Man that is born of a woman, is of short continuance, and full of trouble." Zeno, Cato, Socrates himself, whom Aelian so highly commends for a moderate temper, that "nothing could disturb him, but going out, and coming in, still Socrates kept the same serenity of countenance, whatever misery soever befell him, if we may believe Plato his disciple, was much tormented with it. Quintus Metellus, in whom Valerius gives instance of all happiness, "the most fortunate man then living, born in that most flourishing city of Rome, of noble parentage, a proper man of person, well qualified, healthy, rich, honorable, a senator, a consul, happy in his wife, happy in his children," and more. yet this man was not void of melancholy, he had his share of sorrow. Polycrates Samius, who flung his ring into the sea, because he would participate in discontent with others, and had it miraculously restored to him again shortly after, by a fish taken as he angled, was not free from melancholy dispositions. No man can take care of himself; the very gods had bitter pangs, and frequent passions, as their own poets put upon them. In general, “as the heaven, so is our life, sometimes fair, sometimes overcast, tempestuous, and serene; as in a rose, flowers and prickles; in the year itself, a temperate summer sometimes, a hard winter, a drought, and then again pleasant showers: so is our life intermixed with joys, hopes, fears, sorrows, calumnies: pain and pleasure follow in turn," there is a succession of pleasure and pain. In the middle of the spring of the hares, Something to be loved rises up, it gnaws at the very flowers. "Even in the midst of laughing there is sorrow," as Solomon holds): even in the midst of all our feasting and jollity, as Austin infers in his Com. on the forty-first Psalm, there is grief and discontent. Among the delicacies something savage always strangles us, for a pint of honey thou shalt here likely find a gallon of gall, for a dram of pleasure a pound of pain, for an inch of mirth an ell of moan; as ivy doth an oak, these miseries encompass our life. And it is most absurd and ridiculous for any mortal man to look for a perpetual tenure of happiness in his life. Nothing so prosperous and pleasant, but it hath some bitterness in it, some complaining, some grudging; it is all bitter-sweet glycypicron, a mixed passion, and like a checker table black and white: men, families, cities, have their falls and wanes; now trines, sextiles, then quartiles and oppositions. We are not here as those angels, celestial powers and bodies, sun and moon, to finish our course without all offense, with such constancy, to continue for so many ages: but subject to infirmities, miseries, interrupted, tossed and tumbled up and down, carried about with every small blast, often molested and disquieted upon each slender occasion, uncertain, brittle, and so is all that we trust unto. "And he that knows not this is not armed to endure it, is not fit to live in this world, as one condoles our time, he knows not the condition of it, where with a reciprocity, pleasure and pain are still united, and succeed one another in a ring." Get out of the world, get thee gone hence if thou canst not brook it; there is no way to avoid it, but to arm thyself with patience, with magnanimity, to oppose thyself unto it, to suffer affliction as a good soldier of Christ; as Paul adviseth constantly to bear it. But forasmuch as so few can embrace this good council of his, or use it aright, but rather as so many brute beasts give away to their passion, voluntary subject and precipitate themselves into a labyrinth of cares, woes, miseries, and suffer their souls to be overcome by them, cannot arm themselves with that patience as they ought to do, it falleth out oftentimes that these dispositions become habits, and "many affects contemned", as Seneca notes, "make a disease. Even as one distillation, not yet grown to custom, makes a cough; but continual and inveterate causeth a consumption of the lungs; so do these our melancholy provocations: and according as the humor itself is intended, or remitted in men, as their temperature of body, or rational soul is better able to make resistance; so are they more or less affected. For that which is but a flea-biting to one, causes intolerable torment to another; and which one by his singular moderation, and well-composed carriage can happily overcome, a second is no whit able to sustain, but upon every small occasion of misconceived abuse, injury, grief, disgrace, loss, cross, humor, and more, if solitary, or idle, yields so far to passion, that his complexion is altered, his digestion hindered, his sleep gone, his spirits obscured, and his heart heavy, his hypochondria misaffected; wind, crudity, on a sudden overtake him, and he himself overcomes with melancholy. As it is with a man imprisoned for debt, if once in the gaol, every creditor will bring his action against him, and there likely hold him. If any discontent seize upon a patient, in an instant all other perturbations, for-what data the gate rushes, will set upon him, and then like a lame dog or broken-winged goose he droops and pines away, and is brought at last to that ill habit or malady of melancholy itself. So that as the philosophers make eight degrees of heat and cold, we may make eighty-eight of melancholy, as the parts affected are variously seized with it, or have been plunged more or less into this infernal gulf, or waded deeper into it But all these melancholy fits, however pleasing at first, or displeasing, violent and tyrannizing over those whom they seize on for the time; yet these fits I say, or men affected, are but improperly so called, because they continue not, but come and go, as by some objects they aye moved. This melancholy of which we are to treat, is a habit, mosbus sonticus, or chronicus, a chronic or continuous disease, a settled humor, as Aurelianus and others call it, not errant, but fixed; and as it was long increasing, so now being, pleasant, or painful, grown to an habit, it will hardly be removed. SECTION One. MEMBER Two. SUBSECTION. Digression of Anatomy. Before I proceed to define the disease of melancholy, what it is, or to discourse further of it, I hold it not impertinent to make a brief digression of the anatomy of the body and faculties of the soul, for the better understanding of that which is to follow; because many hard words will often occur, as mirach, hypocondries, emeralds, and more, imagination, reason, humors, spirits, vital, natural, animal, nerves, veins, arteries, chylus, phlegm; which by the vulgar will not so easily be perceived, what they are, how cited, and to what end they serve. And besides, it may peradventure give occasion to some men to examine more accurately, search further into this most excellent subject, and thereupon with that royal prophet to praise God, "for a man is fearfully and wonderfully made, and curiously wrought", that have time and leisure enough, and are sufficiently informed in all other worldly businesses, as to make a good bargain, buy and sell, to keep and make choice of a fair hawk, hound, horse, and others. But for such matters as concern the knowledge of themselves, they are wholly ignorant and careless; they know not what this body and soul are, how combined, of what parts and faculties they consist, or how a man differs from a dog. And what can be more ignominious and filthy, as Melancthon well inveighs, "than for a man not to know the structure and composition of his own body, especially since the knowledge of it tends so much to the preservation, of his health, and information of his manners?” To stir them up therefore to this study, to peruse those elaborate works of Galen, Bauhines, Plater, Vesalius, Falopius, Laurentius, Remelinus, and others, which have written copiously in Latin; or that which some of our industrious countrymen have done in our mother tongue, not long since, as that translation of Columbus and Microcosmographia, in thirteen books, I have made this brief digression. Also because Wecker, Melancthon, Fernelius, Fuschius, and those tedious Tracts on the Soul, which have more compendiously handled and written of this matter, are not at all times ready to be had, to give them some small taste, or notice of the rest, let this epitome suffice. Subsection Two. Division of the Body, Humours, Spirits. Of the parts of the body there may be many divisions: the most approved is that of Laurentius, out of Hippocrates: which is, into parts contained, or containing. Contained, are either humors or spirits. Humours. A humor is a liquid or fluent part of the body, comprehended in it, for the preservation of it; and is either innate or born with us, or adventitious and acquired. The radical or innate, is daily supplied by nourishment, which some call cambium, and make those secondary humors of dew and gluten to maintain it: or acquisite, to maintain these four first primary humors, coming and proceeding from the first concoction in the liver, by which means chylus is excluded. Some divide them into profitable and excrementitious. But Crato out of Hippocrates will have all four to be juice, and not excrements, without which no living creature can be sustained: which four, though they be comprehended in the mass of blood, yet they have their several affections, by which they are distinguished from one another, and from those adventitious, sinful, or diseased humours, as Melanchthon calls them. Blood. Blood is a hot, sweet, temperate, red humor, prepared in the mesaraic veins, and made of the most temperate parts of the chylus in the liver, whose office is to nourish the whole body, to give it strength and color, being dispersed by the veins through every part of it. And from it spirits are first begotten in the heart, which afterwards by the arteries are communicated to the other parts. Pituita, or phlegm, is a cold and moist humour, begotten of the colder part of the chylus, or white juice coming out of the meat digested in the stomach, in the liver; his office is to nourish and moisten the members of the body, which as the tongue are moved, that they be not over dry. Choler, is hot and dry, bitter, begotten of the hotter parts of the chylus, and gathered to the gall: it helps the natural heat and senses, and serves to the expelling of excrements. Melancholy. Melancholy, cold and dry, thick, black, and sour, begotten of the more starchy part of nourishment, and purged from the spleen, is a bridle to the other two hot humors, blood and choler, preserving them in the blood, and nourishing the bones. These four humors have some analogy with the four elements, and to the four ages in man. Serum, Sweat, Tears. To these humors you may add serum, which is the matter of urine, and those excrementitious humors of the third concoction, sweat and tears. Spirits. Spirit is a most subtle vapour, which is expressed from the blood, and the instrument of the soul, to perform all his actions; a common tie or medium between the body and the soul, as some will have it; or as Paracelsus, a fourth soul of himself. Melanchthon holds the fountain of those spirits to be the heart, begotten there; and afterwards conveyed to the brain, they take another nature to them. Of these spirits there be three kinds, according to the three principal parts, brain, heart, liver; natural, vital, animal The natural are begotten in the liver, and then dispersed through the veins, to perform those natural actions. The vital spirits are made in the heart of the natural, which by the arteries are transported to all the other parts: if the spirits cease, then life ceases, as in a syncope or swooning. The animal spirits formed of the vital, brought up to the brain, and diffused by the nerves, to the subordinate members, give sense and motion to them all. Subsection three. Similar parts. Similar Parts. Containing parts, by reason of their more solid substance, are either homogeneous or heterogeneous, similar or dissimilar; so Aristotle divides them, Book One, chapter 1, of History of Animals; Laurentius, chapter 20, Book one. Similar, or homogeneous, are such as, if they be divided, are still severed into parts of the same nature, as water into water. Of these some be spermatical, some fleshy or carnal. Spermatical are such as are immediately begotten of the seed, which are bones, gristles, ligaments, membranes, nerves, arteries, veins, skins, fibers or strings, fat. Bones. The bones are dry and hard, begotten of the thickest of the seed, to strengthen and sustain other parts: some say there be 304, some 307, or 313 in a man's body. They have no nerves in them, and are therefore without sense. A gristle is a substance softer than bone, and harder than the rest, flexible, and serves to maintain the parts of motion. Ligaments are they that tie the bones together, and other parts to the bones, with their subserving tendons: membranes' office is to cover the rest. Nerves, or sinews, are without membranes, and full of marrow within; they proceed from the brain, and carry the animal spirits for sense and motion. Of these some be harder, some softer; the softer serve the senses, and there be seven pairs of them. The first be the optic nerves, by which we see; the second move the eyes; the third pair serve for the tongue to taste; the fourth pair for the taste in the palate; the fifth belong to the ears; the sixth pair is most ample, and runs almost over all the bowels; the seventh pair moves the tongue. The harder sinews serve for the motion of the inner parts, proceeding from the marrow in the back, of whom there be thirty combinations, seven of the neck, twelve of the breast, and more. Arteries. Arteries are long and hollow, with a double skin to convey the vital spirit; to discern which is the better, they say that Vesalius the anatomist was wont to cut up men alive. They arise in the left side of the heart, and are principally two, from which the rest are derived, the aorta and the venosus: the aorta is the root of all the others, which serve the whole body; the other goes to the lungs, to fetch air to cool the heart. Veins. Veins are hollow and round, like pipes, rising from the liver, carrying blood and natural spirits; they feed all the parts. Of these there be two chief, Vena porta and Vena cava, from which the rest are corrivated. That Vena porta is a vein coming from the concave of the liver, and receiving those mesaraical veins, by whom he takes the chylus from the stomach and guts, and conveys it to the liver. The other derives blood from the liver to nourish all the other dispersed members. The branches of that Vena porta are the mesaraical and haemorrhoids. The branches of the cavity are inward or outward. Inward, seminal or emulsifying. Outward, in the head, arms, feet, and more, and have several names. Fibers, Fat, Flesh. Fibers are strings, white and solid, dispersed through the whole member, and right, oblique, transverse, all which have their several uses. Fat is a similar part, moist, without blood, composed of the most thick and unctuous matter of the blood. The skin covers the rest, and hath a cuticle, or a little skin under it. Flesh is soft and ruddy, composed of the congealing of blood, and more. Subsection four. Dissimilar Parts. Dissimilar parts are those which we call organic, or instrumental, and they be inward or outward. The chiefest outward parts are situated forward or backward: forward, the crown and foretop of the head, skull, face, forehead, temples, chin, eyes, ears, nose, and more, neck, breast, chest, upper and lower part of the belly, hypochondrium, navel, groin, flank, and others; backward, the hinder part of the head, back, shoulders, sides, loins, hipbones, os sacrum, buttocks, and else. Or joints, arms, hands, feet, legs, thighs, knees, and more. Or common to both, which, because they are obvious and well known, I have carelessly repeated, and only those principal and greater; that he who wills may take the rest from the books on the soul. Inward organic parts, which cannot be seen, are diverse in number, and have several names, functions, and divisions; but that of Laurentius is most notable, into noble or ignoble parts. Of the noble there be three principal parts, to which all the rest belong, and whom they serve, brain, heart, liver; according to whose site, three regions, or a threefold division, is made of the whole body. As first of the head, in which the animal organs are contained, and brain itself, which by its nerves give sense and motion to the rest, and is, as it were, a privy counselor and chancellor to the heart. The second region is the chest, or middle belly, in which the heart as king keeps his court, and by his arteries communicates life to the whole body. The third region is the lower belly, in which the liver resides as a legate on the side, with the rest of those natural organs, serving for concoction, nourishment, expelling of excrements. This lower region is distinguished from the upper by the midriff, or diaphragm, and is subdivided again by some into three concavities or regions, upper, middle, and lower. The upper of the hypochondrium, in whose right side is the liver, the left the spleen; from which it is denominated hypochondriacal melancholy. The second of the navel and flanks, divided from the first by the rim. The last of the water course, which is again subdivided into three other parts. The Arabians make two parts of this region, Epigastrium and Hypogastrium, upper or lower. Epigastrium they call Mirach, from whence comes Mirachialis Melancholia, sometimes mentioned of them. Of these several regions I will treat in brief apart; and first of the third region, in which the natural organs are contained. De Anima. The Lower Region, Natural Organs. But you that are readers in the meantime, "Suppose you were now brought into some sacred temple, or majestical palace", as Melancthon says, "to behold not the matter only, but the singular art, workmanship, and counsel of this our great Creator. And it is a pleasant and profitable speculation, if it be considered aright." The parts of this region, which present themselves to your consideration and view, are such as serve to nutrition or generation. Those of nutrition serve to the first or second concoction; as the esophagus or gullet, which brings meat and drink into the stomach. The ventricle or stomach, which is seated in the midst of that part of the belly beneath the midriff, the kitchen, as it were, of the first concoction, and which turns our meat into chylus. It hath two mouths, one above, another beneath. The upper is sometimes taken for the stomach itself; the lower and nether door, as Wecker calls it, is named Pylorus. This stomach is sustained by a large kell or caul, called the omentum; which some will have the same with peritoneum, or rim of the belly. From the stomach to the very foundation are produced the guts, or intestines, which serve a little to another and distribute the chylus, and convey away the excrements. They are divided into small and great, by reason of their site and substance, slender or thicker: the slender is duodenum, or whole gut, which is next to the stomach, some twelve inches long, says Fuschius. The jejunum, or empty gut, continues to the other, which has many mesaraic veins annexed to it, which take part of the chylus to the liver from it. Ilium the third, which consists of many crinkles, which serves with the rest to receive, keep, and distribute the chylus from the stomach. The thick guts are three, the blind gut, colon, and right gut. The blind is a thick and short gut, having one mouth, in which the ileum and colon meet: it receives the excrements, and conveys them to the colon. This colon hath many windings, that the excrements pass not away too fast: the right gut is straight, and conveys the excrements to the fundament, whose lower part is bound up with certain muscles called sphincters, that the excrements may be the better contained, until such time as a man be willing to go to the stool. In the midst of these guts is situated the mesenterium or midriff, composed of many veins, arteries, and much fat, serving chiefly to sustain the guts. All these parts serve the first concoction. To the second, which is busy either in refining the good nourishment or expelling the bad, is chiefly belonging to the liver, like in color to congealed blood, the shop of blood, situated in the right hypochondria, in figure like to a half-moon, a generous member Melancthon styles it, a generous part; it serves to turn the chylus into blood, for the nourishment of the body. The excrements of it are either choleric or watery, which the other subordinate parts convey. The gall placed in the concave of the liver, extracts choler to it: the spleen, melancholy; which is situated on the left side, over against the liver, a spongy matter, that draws this black choler to it by a secret virtue, and feeds upon it, conveying the rest to the bottom of the stomach, to stir up appetite, or else to the guts as an excrement. That watery matter the two kidneys expurgate by those emulgent veins and ureters. The emulgent draws this superfluous moisture from the blood; the two ureters convey it to the bladder, which, by reason of its site in the lower belly, is apt to receive it, having two parts, neck and bottom: the bottom holds the water, the neck is constricted with a muscle, which, as a porter, keeps the water from running out against our will. Members of generation are common to both sexes, or peculiar to one; which, because they are impertinent to my purpose, I do voluntarily omit. Middle Region. Next in order is the middle region, or chest, which includes the vital faculties and parts; which, as I have said, is separated from the lower belly by the diaphragm or midriff, which is a skin consisting of many nerves, membranes; and among other uses it hath, is the instrument of laughing. There is also a certain thin membrane, full of sinews, which covers the whole chest within, and is called pleura, the seat of the disease called pleurisy, when it is inflamed; some add a third skin, which is termed mediastinus, which divides the chest into two parts, right and left; of this region the principal part is the heart, which is the seat and fountain of life, of heat, of spirits, of pulse and respiration, the sun of our body, the king and sole commander of it, the seat and organ of all passions and affections The first living, the last dying, it lives first, dies last in all creatures. Of a pyramidical form, and not much unlike a pineapple; a part worthy of admiration, that can yield such variety of affections, by whose motion it is dilated or contracted, to stir and command the humors in the body. As in sorrow, melancholy; in anger, choler; in joy, to send the blood outwardly; in sorrow, to call it in; moving the humours, as horses do a chariot. This heart, though it be one sole member, yet it may be divided into two creeks right and left. The right is like the moon increasing, bigger than the other part, and receives blood from the vena cava, distributing some of it to the lungs to nourish them; the rest to the left side, to engender spirits. The left creek hath the form of a cone, and is the seat of life, which, as a torch doth oil, draws blood unto it, begetting of it spirits and fire; and as fire in a torch, so are spirits in the blood; and by that great artery called aorta, it sends vital spirits over the body, and takes air from the lungs by that artery which is called venosa; so that both creeks have their vessels, the right two veins, the left two arteries, besides those two common anfractuous ears, which serve them both; the one to hold blood, the other air, for several uses. The lungs is a thin spongy part, like an ox's hoof, saith Fernelius, the town-clerk or crier, one terms it, the instrument of voice, as an orator to a king; annexed to the heart, to express their thoughts by voice. That it is the instrument of voice, is manifest, in that no creature can speak, or utter any voice, which wants these lights. It is, besides, the instrument of respiration, or breathing; and its office is to cool the heart, by sending air unto it, by the venous artery, which vein comes to the lungs by that rough artery which consists of many gristles, membranes, nerves, taking in air at the nose and mouth, and by it likewise exhales the fumes of the heart. In the upper region serving the animal faculties, the chief organ is the brain, which is a soft, marrowish, and white substance, engendered of the purest part of seed and spirits, included by many skins, and seated within the skull or brain pan ; and it is the most noble organ under heaven, the dwelling-house and seat of the soul, the habitation of wisdom, memory, judgment, reason, and in which man is most like unto God; and therefore nature hath covered it with a skull of hard bone, and two skins or membranes, of which the one is called dura mater, or meninx, the other pia mater. The dura mater is next to the skull, above the other, which includes and protects the brain. When this is taken away, the pious mother is to be seen, a thin membrane, the next and immediate cover of the brain, and not covering only, but entering into it. The brain itself is divided into two parts, the fore and hinder part; the fore part is much bigger than the other, which is called the little brain in respect of it. This fore part hath many concavities distinguished by certain ventricles, which are the receptacles of the spirits, brought hither by the arteries from the heart, and are there refined to a more heavenly nature, to perform the actions of the soul. Of these ventricles there are three, right, left, and middle. The right and left answer to their site, and beg animal spirits; if they be in any way hurt, sense and motion cease. These ventricles, moreover, are held to be the seat of the common sense. The middle ventricle is a common concourse and cavity of them both, and hath two passages, the one to receive pus, and the other extends itself to the fourth creek; in this they place imagination and thought, and so the three ventricles of the fore part of the brain are used. The fourth creek behind the head is common to the cerebellum or little brain, and marrow of the backbone, the last and most solid of all the rest, which receives the animal spirits from the other ventricles, and conveys them to the marrow in the back, and is the place where they say the memory is seated. Subsection five. Of the Soul and her Faculties. According to Aristotle, the soul is defined to be entelekheia, thorough or complete, the perfection or first act of an organic body, having power of life, which most philosophers approve. But many doubts arise about the essence, subject, seat, distinction, and subordinate faculties of it. For the essence and particular knowledge, of all other things it is most hard, be it of man or beast, to discern, as Aristotle himself, Tully, Picus Mirandula, Tolet, and other neoteric philosophers confess: "We can understand all things by her, but what she is we cannot apprehend." Some therefore make one soul, divided into three principal faculties; others, three distinct souls. Which question of late hath been much controverted by Picolomineus and Zabarel. Paracelsus will have four souls, adding to the three grand faculties a spiritual soul: which opinion of his, Campanella, in his book de sensu rerum much labors to demonstrate and prove, because carcasses bleed at the sight of the murder; with many such arguments And some again, one soul of all creatures whatever, differing only in organs; and that beasts have reason as well as men, though, for some defect of organs, not in such measure. Others make a doubt whether it be all in all, and all in every part; which is amply discussed in Zabarel among the rest. The common division of the soul is into three principal faculties, vegetal, sensitive, and rational, which make three distinct kinds of living creatures, vegetable plants, sensible beasts, rational men. How these three principal faculties are distinguished and connected, seems inaccessible to human ingenuity, is beyond human capacity, as Taurellus, Philip, Flavins, and others suppose. The inferior may be alone, but the superior cannot subsist without the other; so you sensibly include both the vegetal and the rational; which are contained in it, saith Aristotle, as a triangle in a quadrangle. Vegetal Soul. Vegetal, the first of the three distinct faculties, is defined to be "a substantial act of an organic body, by which it is nourished, augmented, and begets another like unto itself." In which definition, three several operations are specified, altrix, auctrix, procreator; the first is nutrition, whose object is nourishment, meat, drink, and the like; this organ is the liver in sensible creatures; in plants, the root or sap. His office is to turn the nutriment into the substance of the nourished body, which he performs by natural heat. This nutritive operation hath four other subordinate functions or powers belonging to it, attraction, retention, digestion, expulsion. Attraction. Attraction is a ministering faculty, which, as a loadstone doth iron, draws meat into the stomach, or as a lamp doth oil; and this attractive power is very necessary in plants, which suck up moisture by the root, as, another mouth, into the sap, as a like stomach. Retention. Retention keeps it, being attracted unto the stomach, until such time it be concocted; for if it should pass away straight, the body could not be nourished. Digestion. Digestion is performed by natural

Rahan. Episode Sixty One. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Andre Cheret. The magic spear. The son of Crao was far too impressed by his discovery to worry about the storm that was threatening. He was observing the fantastic carcass when worrying clamors arose. A few hunters appeared and he carefully slipped under the huge skull. They did not see Rahan. It is the “Wrath of Heaven” that they fear! Rahan is stupid for hiding! The men would pass very close to his strange refuge. Page Two. And be suddenly immobilized. Why are you running away, brothers! “Sky fire” is not dangerous for hunters! What. What are you doing in the head of the "Tahar"? Who are you? I am Rahan the son of Crao! Rahan feared that you would treat him like an enemy and. Our clan has only two enemies. The “Tahar” and the “Fire-spitting” from the sky! Come with us, brother. Our cave is a better shelter than this carcass! This cave is now yours, Rahan! Hold. Take. This is our last piece of meat. But our custom is to share with hunters who are unfortunate enough to venture into our territory. The son of Crao liked to find these feelings in "Those-who-walk-upright". He refused the meat with emotion. Page Three. The storm had burst and countless lightning bolts shredded the black sky. Why does Hangkar speak of "Misfortune"? Because we suffer every day, the “Wrath of Heaven.” But, above all, because the “Grand Tahar” makes hunting perilous. When Rahan sees this messenger of demons, he will understand our anguish! Hangkar described the "Tahar", a gigantic monster that lived in a mountain cave. Solitary, yet invulnerable, this monster sowed terror throughout the territory! This “Tahar" is the last! If he disappeared, our children would finally experience happiness! Why do you not kill him!? This is an impossible thing Rahan! Our arrows break on its hide and our spears have no more effect than a spine on the skin of a hunter! The “Tahar” is invulnerable! Page Four. Rahan did not answer, intrigued as he was by the lightning which, mysteriously, converged towards the crest of a hill. It is strange! Why do the "balls of fire" converge on this hill? Hangkar understands your astonishment, but he cannot explain this mystery to you! It is a miracle of the "Sacred Spear!" We will go and thank her when wrath or heaven has fallen! When the storm ceased Hangar led Rahan to the nearby hill. It is she who draws fire from the sky! See! All around a long spear buried in the ground, the ground was charred! This spear was neither wood nor horn nor bone! It was of a heavy, cold and rough material. A material that the son of Crao did not know. We discovered it near the body of an unknown hunter, a long time ago! Where did this hunter come from? We never knew it, but were soon to understand that his spear was magical. Page Five. Because all those who wanted to use it were, sooner or later, hit by the "balls of Fire"! That is why we leave it stuck on this hill, where it attracts the "Spit from the sky"! Oh! The “Tahar!” The ground began to shake as before the eruption of a volcano. While Hangkar led him into the cave, Rahan saw with horror, the most frightful of monsters emerge from the forest. Page Six. A moment later, the two men had joined the clan. This cave is our only safe haven! The “Tahar” cannot penetrate here. The ground shook even harder and the hideous head suddenly blocked the entrance to the cave. The hunters, no doubt accustomed to it, released their arrows without conviction. He always ends up getting tired and returning to his den! Does Rahan understand now, why we live in terror!? In fact, shortly after, the fantastic animal withdrew, smashing trees and overturning rocks. Ten clans would not have the time, even if they spent ten seasons there, to dig a trap of its size! The “Tahar” is a demon! He is immortal! Demons do not exist Hangkar! And no being is immortal! Page Seven. An idea occurred to the son of Crao. The lair of the "Tahar" could become a trap! All beasts fear fire. Since the "Sacred Spear" attracts the one from the sky, let us plant it in front of his lair! Thus, during the anger of the sky, the “Tahar” will remain on his the ground and the clan will be able to hunt in peace! Rahan is Brave. But he is a fool! All those who ventured near the lair of the "Tahar," were crushed, cut to pieces and devoured! If Hangkar and his people are afraid, Rahan will go alone! Under the anxious gaze of the hunters, the son of Crao went to fetch the heavy and cold spear. The tracks of the “Tahar” will be easy to follow. The tracks, in fact, led him to a large and undoubtedly very deep cavern. He glimpsed the monster there. Rahan will not be able to get any closer! But he knows how to deceive you "Tahar"! Page Eight. Climbing noiselessly up the rocks, he immediately dominated the cave. From there, he could throw the magic spear. Right in front of the entrance to the lair. It was then that screams rang out. Thunder rumbled again. Release the “Sacred Spear” Rahan! Hear! The wrath of heaven is not yet over! But the son of Crao only cared about the monster which, alerted by Hangkar's cries, stirred in its lair. Keep going Hangkar! Scream Again! Scream louder! Rahan could have stuck the spear in front of the cave. But he had just had a much better idea! We are lost! The “Tahar” emerges! Rahan climbed onto a ledge just above the cave entrance. In front of it, the ground was littered with rocks. The monstrous head suddenly burst out. Page Nine. Fiercely grasping the spear, he let himself fall. Ra-ha-ha! He felt the weapon slip under a scale, landed on the neck of the "Tahar" and found himself between two rocks, half dazed by the fall. The monster emerged from its lair, clawing furiously at the rocks with its tail. The blow struck could not be fatal to him, but the son of Crao knew that! He was hoping for something else! The thunder was unceasing, and lightning crackled distantly in the sky. Your audacity will have been for nothing! Over here, brother! Quickly. Quickly we may have a chance to escape from him. Why did you come Hangkar? For what? Uh. I, I Could not let an unknown hunter give us a lesson in courage. Page Ten. But this courage was useless! The “Tahar” is invulnerable! See! The monster came and went heavily. He had not yet seen the men hiding behind the rock. And they made the mistake of breaking cover too soon! We will not have time to get to the cave! The clan needs you, Hangka! Let us separate! I will attract him to me! Hangkar does not accept that you would sacrifice yourself for him! We will join the territory of shadows together! So let us try to stay together on the one of light! By incessant and sudden detours, Rahan and his companion could hope to escape the "Tahar." The cave was only two arrow-shots away when Hangkar, out of breath, collapsed on his knees. I do not have your youth. I am. Run away, Rahan, flee. Page Eleven. The clan, horrified, saw the "Tahar" approaching, swinging its giant tail above the two men. Nothing could save them! Ferociously, Rahan put up a final and futile defense. Rahan is going to die! But you will die too! The fire from heaven will steal your life! And suddenly there was a miracle. Lightning had just struck the monster! Ra-ha-ha! Rahan expected nothing else from the sacred spear! Was Rahan not right to assert that no invulnerable beings exist? The terror is over Hangkar! Several more times, during the storm, lightning struck the spear, striking into the charred skull of the monster. Each time there was a clamor of joy! Page Twelve. And each time, the exploit of the son of Crao was saluted. Rahan is not special brothers! The idea of using the sacred spear against the "Tahar" would have come to you one day! Rahan is as mischievous as he is cunning and Brave! Will he stay with us? A few days, Hangkar. Then he will go looking for other clans. Discovering other territories! Rahan has so much to learn from “Those-Who-Walk-Upright.” How he would like, for example, to know the secret of this spear and why it attracts the “Fire from the sky”! The spear once found on an unknown hunter, who came from an unknown country, was replanted on the hill. She would continue to protect the clan of the “Spitting Sky”. By leaving the clan, the son of Crao would, for the first time, leave a mystery behind him. That of this spear, a mystery that he would probably never clarify. Because how can we imagine, in these savage times, that certain hordes were already shaping a new material. A hard, cold material that we would call iron. Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

2 of 4: https://rumble.com/v4dgu6o-the-anatomy-of-melancholy-2-of-4-the-first-partition-by-robert-burton-1621..html 3 of 4: https://rumble.com/v4dh2lr-anatomy-of-melancholy-part-3-of-4-partition-2.-a-puke-tm-audiobook.html 4 of 4: https://rumble.com/v4e2hjr-the-anatomy-of-melancholy-4-of-4.-robert-burton-1621.-a-puketm-audiobook.html Quotes: "Howsoever, it is a kind of policy in these days, to prefix a fantastical title to a book which is to be sold; for, as larks come down to a day-net, many vain readers will tarry and stand gazing like silly passengers at an antic picture in a painter's shop, that will not look at a judicious piece." "If such a thing were now found, we should all fight for it, as the three goddesses did for the golden apple, we are so wise: we have women politicians, children metaphysicians; every silly fellow can square a circle, make perpetual motions, find the philosopher's stone, interpret Apocalypses, make new Theories, a new system of the world, new Logic, new Philosophy, and so on. Our country, says Petronius, "our country is so full of deified spirits, divine souls, that you may sooner find a God than a man among us," we think so well of ourselves, and that is an ample testimony of much folly." "Is not he mad that draws lines with Archimedes, whilst his house is ransacked, and his city besieged, when the whole world is in combustion, or we whilst our souls are in danger, death follows, life flees, to spend our time in toys, idle questions, and things of no worth?" The first of these is diet, which consists in meat and drink, and causes melancholy, as it offends in substance, or accidents, that is, quantity, quality, or the like. And well it may be called a material cause, since that, as Fernelius holds, “it hath such a power in begetting of diseases, and yields the matter and sustenance of them; for neither air, nor disturbances, nor any of those other evident causes take place, or work this effect, except the constitution of body, and preparation of humors, do concur. That a man may say, this diet is the mother of diseases, let the father be what he will, and from this alone, melancholy and frequent other maladies arise." "Now the common cause of this mischief, ariseth from ourselves or others, we are active and passive. It proceeds inwardly from ourselves, as we are active causes, from an overweening conceit we have of our good parts, own worth, which indeed is no worth, our bounty, favor, grace, valour, strength, wealth, patience, meekness, hospitality, beauty, temperance, gentry, knowledge, wit, science, art, learning, our excellent gifts and fortunes, for which, Narcissus-like, we admire, flatter, and applaud ourselves, and think all the world esteems so of us and as deformed women easily believe those that tell them they be fair, we are too credulous of our own good parts and praises, too well persuaded of ourselves." "and though they write of the contempt of glory,..., they will put their names to their books." "And so they bring up their children, rude as they are themselves, unqualified, untaught, uncivil most part. Who among our youth is legitimately trained in letters? Who touches orators or philosophers? Who reads history, that life of things to be done?" "How odious and abominable are those superstitious and rash vows of Popish monasteries, so to bind and enforce men and women to vow virginity, to lead a single life, against the laws of nature, opposite to religion, policy, and humanity, so to starve, to offer violence, to suppress the vigor of youth, by rigorous statutes, severe laws, vain persuasions, to debar them of that to which by their innate temperature they are so furiously inclined, urgently carried, and sometimes precipitated, even irresistibly led, to the prejudice of their soul's health, and good estate of body and mind: and all for base and private respects, to maintain their gross superstition, to enrich themselves and their territories as they falsely suppose, by hindering some marriages, that the world be not full of beggars, and their parishes pestered with orphans; stupid politicians; Do these things become flagella? Ought these things so to be carried? Better marry than burn, says the Apostle, but they are otherwise persuaded." But who shall dwell in these vast bodies, earths, worlds, “if they be inhabited? Rational creatures?” as Kepler demands, “or have they souls to be saved? Or do they inhabit a better part of the world than we do? Are we or they lords of the world? And how are all things made for man?" "But in all nature what is there so stupendous as to examine and calculate the motion of the planets, their magnitudes, apogees, perigees, eccentricities, how far distant from the earth, the bigness, thickness, compass of the firmament, each star, with their diameters and circumference, apparent area, surfaces, by those curious aids of glasses, astrolabes, sextants, quadrants, of which Tycho Brahe in his mechanics, optics, divine optics, arithmetic, geometry, and such like arts and instruments?" "In the end, as Machiavelli observes, “virtue and prosperity beg rest; rest idleness; idleness riots; riot destruction from which we come again to good laws; good laws engender virtuous actions; virtue, glory, and prosperity; “and tis no dishonor then”, as Guicciardine adds, “for a flourishing man, city, or state to come to ruin,” “nor infelicity to be subject to the law of nature.”" "Let them rail then, scoff, and slander, a wise man is not affected by insults, a wise man, Seneca thinks, is not moved, because he knows, there is no remedy for it: kings and princes, wise, serious, prudent, holy, good men, divine, are all so served alike." "Love made the world, love built cities, soul of the world, invented arts, sciences, and all good things, incites us to virtue and humanity, combines and quickens; keeps peace on earth, quietness by sea, mirth in the winds and elements, expels all fear, anger, and rusticity;" "If any man take exception at my words, let him alter the name, read him for her, and tis all one in effect. But to my purpose: If women in general be so bad, and men worse than they, what a hazard is it to marry? Where shall a man find a good wife, or a woman a good husband?" "We have many such fondlings that are their wives' packhorses and slaves, for a wife overcomes her husband with a grave evil, as the comical poet hath it, there is no greater misery to a man than to let his wife rule, to carry her muff, dog, and fan, let her wear the breeches, lay out, spend, and do what she will, go and come whither, when she will, they give consent." ""This vice", says my author, "is so common with us in France, that he is of no account, a mere coward, not worthy the name of a soldier, that is not a notorious whoremaster." In Italy he is not a gentleman, that besides his wife hath not a courtesan and a mistress." "Or if I shall see a monk or a friar climb up a ladder at midnight into a virgin's or widow's chamber window, I shall hardly think he then goes to administer the sacraments, or to take her confession." "And first to begin of politicians, it hath ever been a principal axiom with them to maintain religion or superstition, which they determine of, alter and vary upon all occasions, as to them seems best, they make religion mere policy, a cloak, a human invention, nothing is equally effective in governing the minds of the people as superstition, as Tacitus and Tully hold. " procreare liberos lepidissimum. Hercle vero liberum esse, id multo est lepidius. “To be a father is very pleasant, but to be a freeman still more so.” Plautus Mil. Glor. act. 3. sc. 1. Miles Gloriosus ("The Braggart Soldier") "A man without religion, is like a horse without a bridle." No way better to curb than superstition, to terrify men's consciences, and to keep them in awe: they make new laws, statutes, invent new religions, ceremonies, as so many stalking horses, to their ends. For if this, religion, is false, as long as it is believed to be true, it tames the ferocity of the mind, controls the lusts, and makes subjects obedient to the prince." "Sickness and sorrows come and go, but a superstitious soul hath no rest; A mind imbued with superstition can never be quiet, no peace, no quietness." Homer. Quam cum chara domi conjux, fidusque maritus Unanimes degunt “How harmoniously do a loving wife and constant husband lead their lives.” Mox daturi progeniem vitiosorem, Horace "And yet with crimes to us unknown, Our sons shall mark the coming age their own." Dramatis Personae. A partial list of common, or referenced name, other names and lifespan, and important works. Abulensis, Alonso Tostado 1410 to 3 September 1455. De maleficis mulieribus 1440. Acosta the Jesuit. Jose de Acosta. 1539 15 Feb 1600. Historia natural y moral de las Indias 1590. Aegineta, Paulus Aegineta, Paul of Aegina, Al-kawabeli, 625 to 690, Epitomes iatrikes biblia hepta Aelian, Claudius Aelianus, meliglossos “honey tongued” 175 to 235, On the Nature of Animals. Aetius, Aetius of Amida, fifth century AD. Sixteen Books on Medicine, divided into four tetrabibli. Afer, Leo Afer, Johannes Leo Africanus, al-Hasan Muhammad al-Wazzan 1494 to 1554, Cosmographia et geographia de Affrica, 1526. Altomarus, Donatus Altomarus, Donato Antonio Altomare. 1502 to 1562, De medendis humani corporis malis, 1553. Aquinas, Thomas Aquinas, Tommaso d'Aquino 1225-1274 Arculanus, Johnanes Arculanus, Giovani of Arcoli. 1412 or 1484. Paraphrasisof the ninth book of theLiber ad Almansorem 1537 Aretino, Pietro Aretino, “the scourge of princes”, 20 Apr 1492 to 21 Oct 1556 Aerodius, Petrus Aerodius, Pierre Ayrault, 1536 to 21 July 1601, e l'ordre et instruction judiciaire chez les Grecs et les Romains 1576. Arnaldus, Arnaldus de Villa Nova, Arnaldus Villanovanus, Arnaud de Ville-Neuve, Arnaldo de Villanueva, c 1240 to 1311 Aurelianus, Caelius AurelianusMedicinales Responsiones, On Acute and Chronic Diseases Avicenna, Ibn Sina 980 to 1037. Austin, Saint Austin, Augustine of Hippo, Saint Augustine 354 to 430 Barletius, Marin Barleti, Marinus Barletius, c 1450 to c 1512 or 13, The history of the life and deeds of Scanderbeg, the Prince of Epirus. Barentonius, Gulielmus PostellusBarentonius 1510 to 1581. Bartholinus, Gaspar Bartholinus, Caspar Bartholin the Elder 12 February 1585 to 13 July 1629. Anatomicae Institutiones Corporis Humani, 1611. Bodine, Jean Bodin, 1530 to 1596. Methodus ad facilem historiarum cognitionem1566. Les Six livres de la Republique 1576. Universae Naturae Theatrum, 1596. Bohemus, Aubanus Bohemus, Johannes Bohm 1485 to 9 June 1534. Mores, leges, et ritus omnium gentium 1520. Boterus Johannis Botero, Giovanni Botero, 1540 to 1617. Della ragion di Stato1589. Brassivola, Antonio Musa Brassavola 16 January 1500 to 1555. Examen omnium simplicium medicamentorum 1536 Boissardus, Boissard, Jean Jacques, 1528 to 1602, De Divinatione et Magicis Praestigiis, 1605, Mascarades 1597. Buxdorfius, Johannes Buxdorfius, Johnnes of Buxdorf, 25 December 1564 to 13 September 1629, De Synagoga Judaica 1603 Cambrensis, Geraldus Cambrensis, Gerald of Wales 1146 to 1223. Topographica Hibernica, 1187. Camerarius, Joachim Camerarius, Kammermeister, 12 April 1500to 17 April 1574,the Elder, Epistolarum familiarum libri VI, 1583. Campanella, Tommaso Campanella, Giovanni Domenico Campanella 5 September 1568 to 21 May 1639.Atheismus Triumphatus 1610. Cardan, Girolamo Geronimo Cardano 1501 to 1576. De Subtilitate1557, De Rerum varietate, Libri XVII 1559. Capivaccius, HieronymusCapivaccius, 1523 to 1589. Nova methodus medendi, 1593, de uteri affectibus Castiglione, Baldassare Castiglione, Count of Casatico, 06 Dec 1478 to 02 Feb 1529, Il Cortegiano Castro, Rodericus a Castro, Rodrigo de Castro, 1546 to 1627 De universa mulierum medicina, 1603. Cicogna, Strozzius Cicogna, 1568 to 18 Jun 1613. The Palace of Enchantments Chrysostom, John Chrysostom, Chrysostomos, 347 to 14 Sep 407, Cluny, Bernard ofCluny, Morlanensis, Morlaix, morlay, twelfth century. De contemptus Mundi. Crollius, Oswaldo Crollius, Oswald Croll, 1563 to December 1609. Basilica Chymica 1608. Codronchus, Giovan Battista Codronchi, 1547 to 1628. De morbis veneficis ac veneficiis 1595. de Sale absynthii Libellus 1610. Cognatus, Marcilius Cognatus, Marsilius of Padua, Marsilio Mainardi 1270 to 1342, Defensor pacis 1324. Colerus, Jacob Colerus 1587 to 1610. De Animarum immortalitate1587. Columella, Lucius Junius Moderatus Columella4 to 70 AD, De re rustica Comineus, ? John Amos Comenius, Jan Amos Komensky, 28 March 1592 to 15 November 1670, Didactica Magna, 1631. Cornelius,Cornelio, Gemma 1535 to 1578. Crato, Johannes Crato von Krafftheim 22 November 1519 to 19 October 1585. Consilia et Epistolae medicinales 1591 Crescentiis, Pietro de' Crescenzi, Petrus de Crescentiis 1230 to 1320, Liber ruralium commodorum, aka Ruralia commode. Cyprian, Thascius Caecilius Cyprianus 210-14 SEP 258, De Ecclesiae Catholicae Unitate Didacus Stella, Diego de Estella 1524 to 1578. Libro de la vanidad del mundo Donatus, Marcellus 1538 to 1602, De Medica Historia Mirabili in 1586 Encelius, Christopherus, Christopher Entzelt 1527 to 15 March 1586. De Re Metallica 1551. Erastus, Thomas Erastus, 7 September 1524 to 31 December 1583. Treatise of Erastus, 1589. Ficinus, Marsilio Ficino, 19 Oct to 1433 to 01 October 499 De studiosorum sanitate tuenda, 1529, Theologia Platonica Fractorius, Girolamo Fracastoro 1476 to 1553. Fonseca, Roderici a Fonseca, Rodrigo da Fonseca In septem Aphorismorum 1595. Commentaria in septem libros aphorismorum Hippocratis 1628 Forestus Petrus Forestus Pieter Van Forest 1521 to 1597, Observationes, Opera Omnia 1609. Fuchsius, Leonhartus Fuchsius, Fuchsius of Nuremberg, Leonhart Fuchs,17 January 1501 to 10 May 1566, Paradoxorum medicinae 1535, De Historia Stirpium commentarii insignes,1542, Codex Vindobonensis Palatinus Codex Fuchsm 1566 Fulgentius, Fabius Planciades Fulgentius, 5th to 6th AD, Mythologiae, Gaguinus, Robert Gaguinus 1433 to 1501, Rerum gallicarum annales, History of France Galen, Aelius Galenus, Galen of Pergamon 129 to 216, Desanitate tuenda, De Simp. Medicament. Facultatibus, De locis affectis Galeottus, Marizo Galeotto, Martius Galeottus 1427 to 1497, Narniensis De Homine Libri Dvo, 1517, De doctrina promiscua 1552 Gariopontus, 995 to 1059 Gauricus, Lucas Gauricus, Luca Gaurico 1475 to 1558. Gellius, Aulus Gellius, 125 to 180. Only known work is Noctes Atticae Gillius, Petrus GylliusorGillius,Pierre Gilles, 1490 to 1555.Claudii Aeliani De animalium natura libri, Translated by Gellius 1565. Girolamo Dandini, Hieronymus Dandinus 1554-1634. De corpore animato, Ethica sacra: hoc est de virtutibus, et vitiis libri quinquaginta Gordonius, Bernardus Gordonius, Bernard de Gordon, 1258 to 1330. Professor of Medicine at the University of Montpelier, Lilium Medicinae, 1303, Liber de conservacione vite humane1308. Gualthers, Bruel Praxis Medicinae 1632. Guianerius Haedus, Peter Haedeus, Pietro Cavretto 1427 to 1504. Anterotica, sive de Amoris Generibus 1503. Hercules of Saxony, Ercole Sassonia 1551 to August 29 1607. Opera Practica, 1607. Hernius, Johann van Heurne 1543 to 1601 Hierom, Saint Jerome, Saint Hierom, Eusebius Sophronius Hieronymus, 347 to Sep 30 420 Hildesheim, Francisci Hildesheim, 1554 to 1614, Spicilegia, Spicilegium 1612 Hill, Nicholsas Hill, 1570 to 1610, Philosophia epicurea, democritiana, theophrastica, 1610. Horiatianus, Octavius Horatianus, Theodorus PriscianusRerum Medicarum Libri Quatuor 1532 Jovius, Paulus Jovius, Paolo Giovio 1483 to 1552 Jubertus Keckerman, Bartholomäus Keckermann 1572 to 25 August 1609, Systema Theologiae 1609 Lactantius, Lucius Caecilius Firmianus 250 to 325, De opificio Dei, 303 Langius, Carolus Langius, Charles de Langhe 1521 to 1573. Lansbergius Johan Philip Lansberge1561 to 1632, Progymnasmatum astronomiae restitutae. 1, De motu solis, 1628. Laurentius, Andreas Laurentius, Adre du Laurens 1558 to 1609 Professor of Anatomy at Monpelier. A Discourse of the Preservation of the Sight: of Melancholic Diseases; of Rheumes, and of Old Age 1599 Lipsius, Joseph Lipsius, 1547 to 1606, Manuductioadstoicamphilosophiam 1604 Lavater, Ludwig Lavater 1527-1586, De spectris, lemuribus et magnis atque insolitis fragoribus. 1569. Lemnius, Levinus Lemnius 20 May 1505 to Jul 1 1568. Occulta naturae miracula 1559. Livy 59 BC 17 AD Ab Urbe Condita, “From the Founding of the City.” Macrobius 390 to 440. Saturnalia, or Saturnaliorum Libri Septem, 431 Magninus, MagninusMediolanensis, Maino De Maineri, died 1368, Regimen sanitatis. Magnus, Albertus Magnus, 1200 to 15 November 1280. De secretis mulierum Martyr, Peter Martyr. Peter Martyr d'Anghiera, Peter Martyr of Angleria, 2 February 1457 to October 1526. Legatio Babylonica, 1511 Oceanidecas 1511. Mathiolis, Pietro Andrea Gregorio Mattioli, 12 March 1501 to 1577. Di Pedacio Dioscoride Anazarbeo Libri cinque Della historia, known as Discorsi, 1544 Epistolarum Medicinalium Libri Quinque 1561, Commentarii, abbreviation of Petri Andreae Matthioli Medici Senensis Commentarii 1554. Mercatus, Lodovicus Mercatus, Luis de Mercado 1525 to 1611, Opera Omnia, Methodus medendi, De Mulierum affectionibus Melanelius, Melanchthon, Philip Melanchthon 1497 to 1560 Melanelius Mizaldus, Antonio Mizaldus, Anonio Mizauld 1510 to 1578. Montaigne, Michel Eyquem, Michel de Montaigne 28 February 1533 13 September 1592, Essays. Montaltus, Aelianus Montaltus, Philotheus Elianus Montalto, 1567 to 1616, de morbis capitis. Montanus, Johannes Baptista Montanus, Giovanni Battista Monte, Gian Battista da Monte 1498 to 6 May 1551. In nonum librumRhasisad Regem 1562, Medicina universa 1587. Munster, Sebastian Munster, 1488 to 1552. Cosmographia, 1544 Musculus Mutianus, Petrus Mutianus Konrad Mutian, Conradus Mutianus 1470-1526. Nevisanus, Giovanni Nevizzano, Late fifteenth century, to approximately 1540. Sylva Nuptialis 1525. Oddis, Marcu de Odis Marco Oddo, Marcus de Oddis 1526 to 1591, Olaus Magnus, 1490 to 1557 Orabasius 320 to 403, Collectiones medicae. Origen of Alexandria, Origen, Origen Adamantius 185 to 253. Paracelsus. Theophrastus von Hohenheim, 1493 to 24 September 1541. Credited as the Father of Toxicology. Prognosticatio Ad Vigesimum Quartum annum duratura 1536. Parthenius ofNicaea, Myrlea 14 AD. Erotica Pathemata Patricius, Franciscus Patricius, Francesco Patrizi, 25 April 1529 to 6 February 1597, Venetian Scientist. Discussiones peripateticae 1581, Nova de universis philosophia 1591. Perkins, William Perkins 1558 to 1602 Cases of Conscience, all three books complete, 1608 Peterach, Francesco Petrarca, 1304 to 1374 Petronius, Gaius Petronius Arbiter, Titus Petronius Niger 27 to 66, Satyricon. Plautus, Titus Maccius Plautus 254 to 184 BC Platerus, Felix Plater, Felix Platter 1536 to 1614. LaesionesMentis, Praxeos Medicae, 1602 Platearius, Matthaeus, De re medicina, 1400 Plutarch, 46 to 119, Lives of the Roman emperors. Porta, Baptista Porta, Giambattista della Porta, Giambattista della Porta, 1535 to 4 February 1615. Magia Natralis 1615. Quercetan Retrato de Joseph Duchesne, ou Quercetanus, 1544 to 1609. Traicté familier de l'exacte preparation spagirique des medicamens 1639. Rhasis, Rhazes, Abu Bakr al-Razi 865 to 925 Rhodiginus Caelius Rhodiginus, Lodovico Ricchieri; 1469 to 1525. Antiquarum Lectionum 1516. Riccius, Mathew Riccus. Matteo Rici 6 October 1552 to 11 May 1610. De Christiana expeditione apud Sinas Rondeletus, Rondeletius, Guillaume Rondelet 27 September 1507 to 30 July 1566. Chancellor of University of Montpelier. Dispensatorium sev pharmacopolarum officina, adiecto indice copioso 1565 Rueus, Francisco Rueus, La Rue, François 1520 to 1585. De Geminis aliquot 1547. Rulandus,Martinus Rulandus, Martin Ruland the Elder, 1532, in Freising to 3 February 1602. Curationum empiricarum et historicarum Centuria 1596. Rusea, Anthony Rusea Salvanius, Salvianus, Salustius Salvianus. Satyricon, Satyriconliber, The Book of Satyrlike Adventures, orSatyrica Gaius Petrnius, first AD. Savonarola, Ionnis Michaelis Aavonarolae, Michele Savonarola, 1385 to 1466 Speculum phisionomie 1455. Practica major. Savonarola’s third rule, to be occupied in many and great affairs. Savonarola’s fourth rule, distance from the country. Scaliger, Julius Caesar Scaliger, 23 April 1484 to 21 Oct 1558, Exotericarum exercitationum 1557. de emendatione temporum 1583. Scaliger, Joseph Justus Scaliger 5 Aug 1540 to 21 Jan 1609.One of the greatest contributors to renaissance History. Mesolabium 1594, Cyclometrica elementa duo 1594. Scaliger, Julius Caesar 1485 to 1558. Poeticeslibriseptem, 1561. Skenkius Schenkius, Ioannes Schenkius, Johannes Schenck von Grafenberg 20 June 1530 to 12 November 1598. Observationum medicarum rariorum, libri VII Sckenkius, George Skenkius Ital. med. Prax, prax. curat. Ital. med, observ. med. de Venenis. Sennertus, Daniel Sennertus, 25 Nov 1572 to 21 July 1637. “Epitome naturalis scientiae.” SigismundScheretzius, Sigismund Scherertz 2 December 1584 to 31 December 1639. LibellusConsolatoriusDeSpectris 1621. Solenander, Reinerus Solenander 1524 to 1601. Strabo, 64 BC to 24 AD, Greek Philosopher, geographer and historian, Geographical Sketches 21AD GeographicaorStrabonis Rerum Geographicarum Libri XVII.. Struthius, Josphus Struthius Strus, Jozef 1510 to 1569. Sphygmicae artis iam mille ducentos perditae et desideratae libri V 1540. Sylvius, Aeneas Sylvius Toft, R. T. Robert Tofte. R.T Gentleman, Translated Blazon of Jealosie 1614, written by Varchi, Benedetto, 1503 to 1565. Tully, Marcus Tullius Cicero 3 January 106 BC to 7 December 43 BC, anglicized as “Tully”. Tusculanae Disputationes 45 BC, De Natura Deorum 45BC Valescus, Valescus de Taranta, 1382 to 1418 Valleriola, François Valleriola, Variola, 1504 to 1580. Observationes medicinales or Observationum medicinalium libri sex, 1573. Valesius, FranciscusValesius, Francisco Vallés1524-1592, Controversiarium medicarum et philosophicarum 1556, De Sacra Philosophia 1587. Vaninus, Caesar Vaninus, Lucilio Vanini, Giulio Cesare Vanini 1585to 9 February 1619. 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De Praestigiis Daemonum et Incantationibus ac Venificiis, “On the Illusions of the Demons and on Spells and Poisons.” Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, “The False Kingdom of the Demons.” De lamiis liber item de commentitiis jejuniis 1577. Xenophon, Xenophon of Athens 430 to 355 BC, Cryopaedia, Symposium ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, WHAT IT IS, WITH ALL THE KINDS, CAUSES, SYMPTOMS, PROGNOSTICS, AND SEVERAL CURES OF IT. IN THREE PARTITIONS. WITH THEIR SEVERAL SECTIONS, MEMBERS, AND SUBSECTIONS, PHILOSOPHICALLY, MEDICALLY, HISTORICALLY OPENED AND CUT UP. BY DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR. WITH A SATIRICAL PREFACE, CONDUCING TO THE FOLLOWING DISCOURSE. A NEW EDITION, CORRECTED, AND ENRICHED BY TRANSLATIONS OF THE NUMEROUS CLASSICAL EXTRACTS. BY DEMOCRITUS MINOR. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. Reformatted, arrogantia remotum, for readability to obtain, quid mirum, cum in alio millennio ad hunc oculi vertuntur?, Vomitio in Laminam, MMXXIV. Project Gutenburg, and the 1883 edition. Credits: Karl Hagen, D. Moynihan and Distributed Proofreaders. He that joins instruction with delight, Profit with pleasure, carries all the votes. ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. Robert Burton was the son of Ralph Burton, of an ancient and genteel family at Lindley, in Leicestershire, and was born there on the eighth of February 1576. He received the first rudiments of learning at the free school of Sutton Coldfield, in Warwickshire from whence he was, at the age of seventeen, in the long vacation, 1593, sent to Brazen Nose College, in the condition of a commoner, where he made considerable progress in logic and philosophy. In 1599 he was elected student of Christ Church, and, for form's sake, was put under the tuition of Doctor John Bancroft, afterwards Bishop of Oxford. In 1614 he was admitted to the reading of the Sentences, and on the twenty ninth of November, 1616, had the vicarage of Saint Thomas, in the west suburb of Oxford, conferred on him by the dean and canons of Christ Church, which, with the rectory of Segrave, in Leicestershire, given to him in the year 1636, by George, Lord Berkeley, he kept, to use the words of the Oxford antiquary, with much ado to his dying day. He seems to have been first beneficed at Walsby, in Lincolnshire, through the munificence of his noble patroness, Frances, Countess Dowager of Exeter, but resigned the same, as he tells us, for some special reasons. At his vicarage he is remarked to have always given the sacrament in wafers. Wood's character of him is, that “he was an exact mathematician, a curious calculator of nativities, a general read scholar, a thorough-paced philologist, and one that understood the surveying of lands well. As he was by many accounted a severe student, a devourer of authors, a melancholy and humorous person; so by others, who knew him well, a person of great honesty, plain dealing and charity. I have heard some of the ancients of Christ Church often say, that his company was very merry, facete, and juvenile; and no man in his time did surpass him for his ready and dexterous interlarding his common discourses among them with verses from the poets, or sentences from classic authors; which being then all the fashion in the University, made his company the more acceptable.” He appears to have been a universal reader of all kinds of books, and availed himself of his multifarious studies in a very extraordinary manner. From the information of Hearne, we learn that John Rouse, the Bodleian librarian, furnished him with choice books for the prosecution of his work. The subject of his labour and amusement, seems to have been adopted from the infirmities of his own habit and constitution. Mister Granger says, “He composed this book with a view of relieving his own melancholy, but increased it to such a degree, that nothing could make him laugh, but going to the bridge-foot and hearing the ribaldry of the bargemen, which rarely failed to throw him into a violent fit of laughter. Before he was overcome with this horrid disorder, he, in the intervals of his vapors, was esteemed one of the most facetious companions in the University.” His residence was chiefly at Oxford; where, in his chamber in Christ Church College, he departed this life, at or very near the time which he had some years before foretold, from the calculation of his own nativity, and which, says Wood, “being exact, several of the students did not forbear to whisper among themselves, that rather than there should be a mistake in the calculation, he sent up his soul to heaven through a slip about his neck.” Whether this suggestion is founded in truth, we have no other evidence than an obscure hint in the epitaph hereafter inserted, which was written by the author himself, a short time before his death. His body, with due solemnity, was buried near that of Doctor Robert Weston, in the north aisle which joins next to the choir of the cathedral of Christ Church, on the twenty seventh of January 1639 to 40. Over his grave was soon after erected a comely monument, on the upper pillar of the said aisle, with his bust, painted to the life. On the original text is a horoscope calculation of his nativity. And under the bust, this inscription of his own composition: Known to few, unknown to fewer, Here lies Democritus the younger. To whom he gave life and death. Melancholy. 8 January 1639. A few months before his death, he made his will, of which the following is a copy: DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO HIS BOOK. Go forth my book into the open day; Happy, if made so by its garish eye. O'er earth's wide surface take thy vagrant way, To imitate thy master's genius try. The Graces three, the Muses nine salute, Should those who love them try to con thy lore. The country, city seek, grand thrones to boot, With gentle courtesy humbly bow before. Should nobles gallant, soldiers frank and brave Seek thy acquaintance, hail their first advance: From twitch of care thy pleasant vein may save, May laughter cause or wisdom give perchance. Some surly Cato, Senator austere, Haply may wish to peep into thy book: Seem very nothing, tremble and revere: No forceful eagles, butterflies ever look. They love not thee: of them then little seek, And wish for readers triflers like thyself. Of ludeful matron watchful catch the beck, Or gorgeous countess full of pride and pelf. They may say “pish!” and frown, and yet read on: Cry odd, and silly, coarse, and yet amusing. Should dainty damsels seek thy page to con, Spread thy best stores: to them be ne'er refusing: Say, fair one, master loves thee dear as life; Would he were here to gaze on thy sweet look. Should known or unknown student, freed from strife Of logic and the schools, explore my book: Cry mercy critic, and thy book withhold: Be some few errors pardoned though observed: An humble author to implore makes bold. Thy kind indulgence, even undeserved, Should melancholy wight or pensive lover, Courtier, snug cit, or carpet knight so trim Our blossoms cull, he'll find himself in clover, Gain sense from precept, laughter from our whim. Should learned leech with solemn air unfold, Thy leaves, beware, be civil, and be wise: Thy volume many precepts sage may hold, His well fraught head may find no trifling prize. Should crafty lawyer trespass on our ground, Caitiffs avaunt! Disturbing tribe away! Unless, white crow, an honest one be found; He'll better, wiser go for what we say. Should some ripe scholar, gentle and benign, With candor, care, and judgment thee peruse: Thy faults to kind oblivion he'll consign; Nor to thy merit will his praise refuse. Thou mayest be searched for polished words and verse. By flippant spouter, emptiest of praters: Tell him to seek them in some mawkish verse: My periods all are rough as nutmeg graters. The doggerel poet, wishing thee to read, Reject not; let him glean thy jests and stories. His brother I, of lowly sembling breed: Apollo grants to few Parnassian glories. Menaced by critic with sour furrowed brow, Momus or Troilus or Scotch reviewer: Ruffle your heckle, grin and growl and vow: Ill-natured foes you thus will find the fewer, When foul-mouthed senseless railers cry thee down, Reply not: fly, and show the rogues thy stern; They are not worthy even of a frown: Good taste or breeding they can never learn; Or let them clamor, turn a callous ear, As though in dread of some harsh donkey's bray. If chide by censor, friendly though severe, To such explain and turn thee not away. Thy vein, says he perchance, is all too free; Thy smutty language suits not learned pen: Reply, Good Sir, throughout, the context see; Thought chastens thought; so prithee judge again. Besides, although my master's pen may wander Through devious paths, by which it ought not stray, His life is pure, beyond the breath of slander: So pardon grant; tis merely but his way. Some rugged ruffian makes a hideous rout, Brandish thy cudgel, threaten him to baste; The filthy fungus far from thee cast out; Such noxious banquets never suit my taste. Yet, calm and cautious moderate thy ire, Be ever courteous should the case allow, Sweet malt is ever made by gentle fire: Warm to thy friends, give all a civil bow. Even censure sometimes teaches to improve, Slight frosts have often cured too rank a crop, So, candid blame my spleen shall never move, For skillful gardeners wayward branches lop. Go then, my book, and bear my words in mind; Guides safe at once, and pleasant them you'll find. THE ARGUMENT OF THE FRONTISPIECE. Ten distinct Squares here seen apart, Are joined in one by Cutter's art. One. Old Democritus under a tree, Sits on a stone with book on knee; About him hang there many features, Of Cats, Dogs and such like creatures, Of which he makes anatomy, The seat of black choler to see. Over his head appears the sky, And Saturn Lord of melancholy. Two. To the left a landscape of Jealousy, Presents itself unto thine eye. A Kingfisher, a Swan, an Hern, Two fighting-cocks you may discern, Two roaring Bulls each other hie, To assault concerning venery. Symbols are these; I say no more, Conceive the rest by that's afore. Three. The next of solitariness, A portraiture doth well express, By sleeping dog, cat: Buck and Doe, Hares, Conies in the desert go: Bats, Owls the shady bowers over, In melancholy darkness hover. Mark well: If it be not as it should be, Blame the bad Cutter, and not me. Four. It under column there doth stand. Inamorato with folded hand; Down hangs his head, terse and polite, Some ditty sure he doth indite. His lute and books about him lie, As symptoms of his vanity. If this do not enough disclose, To paint him, take thyself by the nose. Five. Hypocondriacus leans on his arm, Wind in his side doth him much harm, And troubles him full sore, God knows, Much pain he hath and many woes. About him pots and glasses lie, Newly brought from's Apothecary. This Saturn's aspects signify, You see them portrayed in the sky. Six. Beneath them kneeling on his knee, A superstitious man you see: He fasts, prays, on his Idol fixt, Tormented hope and fear betwixt: For Hell perhaps he takes more pain, Than thou dost Heaven itself to gain. Alas poor soul, I pity thee, What stars incline thee so to be? Seven. But see the madman rage downright With furious looks, a ghastly sight. Naked in chains bound doth he lie, And roars amain he knows not why! Observe him; for as in a glass, Thine angry portraiture it was. His picture keeps still in thy presence; Twixt him and thee, there's no difference. Eight, Nine Borage and Hellebor fill two scenes, Sovereign plants to purge the veins Of melancholy, and cheer the heart, Of those black fumes which make it smart; To clear the brain of misty fogs, Which dull our senses, and Soul clogs. The best medicine that ever God made For this malady, if well assayed. Ten. Now last of all to fill a place, Presented is the Author's face; And in that habit which he wears, His image to the world appears. His mind no art can well express, That by his writings you may guess. It was not pride, nor yet vainglory, Though others do it commonly. Made him do this: if you must know, The Printer would needs have it so. Then do not frown or scoff at it, Deride not, or detract a whit. For surely as thou dost by him, He will do the same again. Then look upon it, behold and see, As thou likest it, so it likes thee. And I for it will stand in view, Thine to command, Reader, adieu. The author's abstract of melancholy, dialogically. When I go musing all alone Thinking of divers things fore-known. When I build castles in the air, Void of sorrow and void of fear, Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet, Methinks the time runs very fleet. All my joys to this are folly, Naught so sweet as melancholy. When I lie waking all alone, Recounting what I have ill done, My thoughts on me then tyrannise, Fear and sorrow me surprise, Whether I tarry still or go, Methinks the time moves very slow. All my griefs to this are jolly, Naught so mad as melancholy. When to myself I act and smile, With pleasing thoughts the time beguile, By a brook side or wood so green, Unheard, unsought for, or unseen, A thousand pleasures do me bless, And crown my soul with happiness. All my joys besides are folly, None so sweet as melancholy. When I lie, sit, or walk alone, I sigh, I grieve, making great moan, In a dark grove, or irksome den, With discontents and Furies then, A thousand miseries at once Mine heavy heart and soul ensconce, All my griefs to this are jolly, None so sour as melancholy. Methinks I hear, methinks I see, Sweet music, wondrous melody, Towns, palaces, and cities fine; Here now, then there; the world is mine, Rare beauties, gallant ladies shine, Whatever is lovely or divine. All other joys to this are folly, None so sweet as melancholy. Methinks I hear, methinks I see Ghosts, goblins, fiends; my phantasy Presents a thousand ugly shapes, Headless bears, black men, and apes, Doleful outcries, and fearful sights, My sad and dismal soul affrights. All my griefs to this are jolly, None so dammed as melancholy. Methinks I court, methinks I kiss, Methinks I now embrace my mistress. O blessed days, O sweet content, In Paradise my time is spent. Such thoughts may still my fancy move, So may I ever be in love. All my joys to this are folly, Naught so sweet as melancholy. When I recount love's many frights, My sighs and tears, my waking nights, My jealous fits; O mine hard fate I now repent, but tis too late. No torment is so bad as love, So bitter to my soul can prove. All my griefs to this are jolly, Naught so harsh as melancholy. Friends and companions get you gone, Tis my desire to be alone; Ne'er well but when my thoughts and I Do domineer in privacy. No Gem, no treasure like to this, Tis my delight, my crown, my bliss. All my joys to this are folly, Naught so sweet as melancholy. Tis my sole plague to be alone, I am a beast, a monster grown, I will no light nor company, I find it now my misery. The scene is turned, my joys are gone, Fear, discontent, and sorrows come. All my griefs to this are jolly, Naught so fierce as melancholy. I'll not change life with any king, I ravish am: can the world bring More joy, than still to laugh and smile, In pleasant toys time to beguile? Do not, O do not trouble me, So sweet content I feel and see. All my joys to this are folly, None so divine as melancholy. I'll change my state with any wretch, Thou canst from gaol or dunghill fetch; My pain's past cure, another hell, I may not in this torment dwell! Now desperate I hate my life, Lend me a halter or a knife; All my griefs to this are jolly, Naught so dammed as melancholy. DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO THE READER. Gentle reader, I presume thou wilt be very inquisitive to know what antic or personate actor this is, that so insolently intrudes upon this common theatre, to the world's view, arrogating another man's name; whence he is, why he doth it, and what he hath to say; although, as he said, First, if I don't want to, I won't answer, who is going to force me? I am a free man born, and may choose whether I will tell; who can compel me? If I be urged, I will as readily reply as that Egyptian in Plutarch, when a curious fellow would needs know what he had in his basket, When you see what is veiled, what do you look for in the hidden thing? It was therefore covered, because he should not know what was in it. Seek not after that which is hid; if the contents please thee, “and be for thy use, suppose the Man in the Moon, or whom thou wilt to be the author;” I would not willingly be known. Yet in some sort to give thee satisfaction, which is more than I need, I will show a reason, both of this usurped name, title, and subject. And first of the name of Democritus; lest any man, by reason of it, should be deceived, expecting a pasquil, a satire, some ridiculous treatise, as I myself should have done, some prodigious tenet, or paradox of the earth's motion, of infinite worlds, in an infinite vacuum, from the accidental collision of atoms, in an infinite waste, so caused by an accidental collision of motes in the sun, all which Democritus held, Epicurus and their master Lucippus of old maintained, and are lately revived by Copernicus, Brunus, and some others. Besides, it hath been always an ordinary custom, as Gellius observes, “for later writers and impostors, to broach many absurd and insolent fictions, under the name of so noble a philosopher as Democritus, to get themselves credit, and by that means the more to be respected,” as artificers usually do, The new inscribe their praxatile upon the marble. Tis not so with me. No Centaurs here, or Gorgons look to find, My subject is of man and human kind. Thou thyself art the subject of my discourse. Whatever men do, vows, fears, in ire, in sport, Joys, wanderings, are the sum of my report. My intent is no otherwise to use his name, than Mercurius Gallobelgicus, Mercurius Britannicus, use the name of Mercury, Democritus Christianus, and cetera; although there be some other circumstances for which I have masked myself under this vizard, and some peculiar respect which I cannot so well express, until I have set down a brief character of this our Democritus, what he was, with an epitome of his life. Democritus, as he is described by Hippocrates and Laertius, was a little wearish old man, very melancholy by nature, averse from company in his latter days,and much given to solitariness, a famous philosopher in his age, coaevus with Socrates, wholly addicted to his studies at the last, and to a private life: wrote many excellent works, a great divine, according to the divinity of those times, an expert physician, a politician, an excellent mathematician, as Diacosmus and the rest of his works do witness. He was much delighted with the studies of husbandry, saith Columella, and often I find him cited by Constantinus and others treating of that subject. He knew the natures, differences of all beasts, plants, fishes, birds; and, as some say, could understand the tunes and voices of them. In a word, he was omnifariam doctus, a general scholar, a great student; and to the intent he might better contemplate, I find it related by some, that he put out his eyes, and was in his old age voluntarily blind, yet saw more than all Greece besides, and writ of every subject, There is nothing in the whole work of nature of which he has not written. A man of an excellent wit, profound conceit; and to attain knowledge the better in his younger years, he travelled to Egypt and Athens, to confer with learned men, “admired of some, despised of others.” After a wandering life, he settled at Abdera, a town in Thrace, and was sent for thither to be their lawmaker, recorder, or town-clerk, as some will; or as others, he was there bred and born. Howsoever it was, there he lived at last in a garden in the suburbs, wholly betaking himself to his studies and a private life, “saving that sometimes he would walk down to the haven,” “and laugh heartily at such variety of ridiculous objects, which there he saw.” Such a one was Democritus. But in the meantime, how doth this concern me, or upon what reference do I usurp his habit? I confess, indeed, that to compare myself unto him for aught I have yet said, were both impudency and arrogancy. I do not presume to make any parallel, He stands before me by three hundred thousand, I am small, I am nothing, I neither breathe nor hope. 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, to me and to you in the University, as long almost as Xenocrates in Athens, almost to old age to learn wisdom as he did, penned up most part in my study. For I have been brought up a student in the most flourishing college of Europe, the most august college, and can brag with Jovius, almost, in that light the residence of the Vacicani, the most famous of all the world, per I have learned many good things over the years; for thirty years I have continued, having the use of as good libraries as ever he had, a scholar, and would be therefore loath, either by living as a drone, to be an unprofitable or unworthy member of so learned and noble a society, or to write that which should be any way dishonourable to such a royal and ample foundation. Something I have done, though by my profession a divine, yet a whirlwind of talent, as he said, out of a running wit, an unconstant, unsettled mind, I had a great desire, not able to attain to a superficial skill in any, to have some smattering in all, to be one in all, none in each, 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, centum puer artium, 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 countryman 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 is 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 divers authors in our libraries, with small profit, for want of art, order, memory, judgment. I never travelled but in map or card, in which mine unconfined thoughts have freely expatiated, as having ever been especially delighted with the study of Cosmography. Saturn was lord of my geniture, culminating, and so on, and Mars principal significator of manners, in partile conjunction with my ascendant; both fortunate in their houses, and so on. I am not poor, I am not rich; there is nothing, nothing is lacking, 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 competence, old god from my noble and munificent patrons, though I live still a collegiate student, as Democritus in his garden, and lead a monastic life, He is the theater for me, sequestered from those tumults and troubles of the world, And as if placed in glasses, as he said, in some high place above you all, like Stoicus Sapiens, seeing all the ages, past and present, with one glance as it were, 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 used to laugh with myself at the vanity of the courts, the ambition of the market: 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, and others, daily musters and preparations, and such like, 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, and other things. Now come tidings of weddings, maskings, 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, deaths 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, and carries on. This I daily hear, and such like, 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 privy private; as I have still lived, so I now continue, in the same state as before, left to a solitary life, and mine own domestic discontents: saving that sometimes, lest I should lie, 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 a shrewd observer as a simple reciter, not as they did, to scoff or laugh at all, but with a mixed passion. Ye wretched mimics, whose fond heats have been, How oft! the objects of my mirth and spleen. I did sometime laugh and scoff with Lucian, and satirically tax with Menippus, lament with Heraclitus, sometimes again I was a luaher with a petulant spleen, and then again, bile burns the liver, I was much moved to see that abuse which I could not mend. In which passion howsoever I may sympathise with him or them, tis for no such respect I shroud myself under his name; but either in an unknown habit to assume a little more liberty and freedom of speech, or if you will needs know, for that reason and only respect which Hippocrates relates at large in his Epistle to Damegetus, wherein he doth express, how coming to visit him one day, he found Democritus in his garden at Abdera, in the suburbs, under a shady bower, with a book on his knees, busy at his study, sometimes writing, sometimes walking. The subject of his book was melancholy and madness; about him lay the carcases of many several beasts, newly by him cut up and anatomised; not that he did contemn God's creatures, as he told Hippocrates, but to find out the seat of this slow speed, or melancholy, whence it proceeds, and how it was engendered in men's bodies, to the intent he might better cure it in himself, and by his writings and observation teach others how to prevent and avoid it. Which good intent of his, Hippocrates highly commended: Democritus Junior is therefore bold to imitate, and because he left it imperfect, and it is now lost, as the succinctuary of Democritus, to revive again, prosecute, and finish in this treatise. You have had a reason of the name. If the title and inscription offend your gravity, were it a sufficient justification to accuse others, I could produce many sober treatises, even sermons themselves, which in their fronts carry more fantastical names. Howsoever, it is a kind of policy in these days, to prefix a fantastical title to a book which is to be sold; for, as larks come down to a day-net, many vain readers will tarry and stand gazing like silly passengers at an antic picture in a painter's shop, that will not look at a judicious piece. And, indeed, as Julius Caesar Scaliger observes, “nothing more invites a reader than an argument unlooked for, unthought of, and sells better than a scurrile pamphlet,” and especially when novelty excites the palate. “Many men,” saith Gellius, “are very conceited in their inscriptions,” “and able”, as Pliny quotes out of Seneca, “to make him loiter by the way that went in haste to fetch a midwife for his daughter, now ready to lie down.” For my part, I have honourable, precedents for this which I have done: I will cite one for all, Anthony Zara, Pap. Epis., his Anatomy of Wit, in four sections, members, subsections, and so on, to be read in our libraries. If any man except against the matter or manner of treating of this my subject, and will demand a reason of it, I can allege more than one; I write of melancholy, by being busy to avoid melancholy. There is no greater cause of melancholy than idleness, “no better cure than business,” as Rhasis holds: and howbeit, fool's work is for fools to be busy in toys is to small purpose, yet hear that divine Seneca, to do something other than nothing, better do to no end, than nothing. I wrote therefore, and busied myself in this playing labour, and oiled care to avoid striking torpor with Vectius in Macrobius, and I would turn the negative into a useful idleness. At the same time both delightful and suitable to say life, Entertaining and instructing the reader at the same time. Poets would profit or delight mankind, And with the pleasing have the instructive joined. Profit and pleasure, then, to mix with art, To inform the judgment, nor offend the heart, Shall gain all votes. To this end I write, like them, saith Lucian, that “recite to trees, and declaim to pillars for want of auditors:” as Paulus Aegineta ingenuously confesseth, “not that anything was unknown or omitted, but to exercise myself,” which course if some took, I think it would be good for their bodies, and much better for their souls; or peradventure as others do, for fame, to show myself. To know yours is nothing, unless the other knows that you know this. I might be of Thucydides' opinion, “to know a thing and not to express it, is all one as if he knew it not.” When I first took this task in hand, and what he said, impelled by genius, I undertook the business, this I aimed at; or to ease my mind by writing, to ease my mind by writing; for I had pregnant heart, fetal head, a kind of imposthume in my head, which I was very desirous to be unladen of, and could imagine no fitter evacuation than this. Besides, I might not well refrain, for where there is pain, there is a finger, one must needs scratch where it itches. I was not a little offended with this malady, shall I say my mistress Melancholy, my Aegeria, or my malus genius? and for that cause, as he that is stung with a scorpion, I would expel nail, nail, comfort one sorrow with another, idleness with idleness, as from the Theriacum viper, make an antidote out of that which was the prime cause of my disease. Or as he did, of whom Felix Plater speaks, that thought he had some of Aristophanes' frogs in his belly, still crying Breec, okex, coax, coax, oop, oop, and for that cause studied physic seven years, and travelled over most part of Europe to ease himself. To do myself good I turned over such physicians as our libraries would afford, or my private friends impart, and have taken this pains. And why not? Girolamo Cardano, known as Cardan, professeth he wrote his book, De Consolatione after his son's death, to comfort himself; so did Tully, the anglicized form of Cicero, write of the same subject with like intent after his daughter's departure, if it be his at least, or some impostor's put out in his name, which Lipsius probably suspects. Concerning myself, I can peradventure affirm with Marius in Sallust, “that which others hear or read of, I felt and practised myself; they get their knowledge by books, I mine by melancholising.” Expert believes Roberto. Something I can speak out of experience, painful experience has taught me; and with her in the poet, I learn to help those who are not ignorant of evil; I would help others out of a fellow-feeling; and, as that virtuous lady did of old, “being a leper herself, bestow all her portion to build an hospital for lepers,” I will spend my time and knowledge, which are my greatest fortunes, for the common good of all. Yea, but you will infer that this is to act, an unnecessary work, add the twice-cooked cramben, the same again and again in other words. To what purpose? “Nothing is omitted that may well be said,” so thought Lucian in the like theme. How many excellent physicians have written just volumes and elaborate tracts of this subject? No news here; that which I have is stolen, from others, And he said unto me, Thou art a thief of my page. If that severe doom of Synesius be true, “it is a greater offence to steal dead men's labours, than their clothes,” what shall become of most writers? I hold up my hand at the bar among others, and am guilty of felony in this kind, You have a guilty plea, I am content to be pressed with the rest. Tis most true, It keeps many people from writing unscathed, and “there is no end of writing of books,” as the wiseman found of old, in this scribbling age, especially wherein “the number of books is without number,” as a worthy man saith, “presses be oppressed,” and out of an itching humour that every man hath to show himself, desirous of fame and honour, we write unlearned and learned, he will write no matter what, and scrape together it boots not whence. “Bewitched with this desire of fame,” even in the middle, to the disparagement of their health, and scarce able to hold a pen, they must say something, “and get themselves a name,” saith Scaliger, “though it be to the downfall and ruin of many others.” To be counted writers, writers to be saved, to be thought and held polymaths and polyhistors, among the ignorant common people because of the name of windy art, to get a paper-kingdom: no hope of gain but of wide fame, in this precipitate, ambitious age, now, as the age is, among immature learning, ambitious and impetuous, tis Scaliger's censure, and they that are scarce auditors, hardly any listeners, must be masters and teachers, before they be capable and fit hearers. They will rush into all learning, armed civilian, divine, human authors, rake over all indexes and pamphlets for notes, as our merchants do strange havens for traffic, write great tomes, Since they are not really more learned, but more talkative, whereas they are not thereby better scholars, but greater praters. They commonly pretend public good, but as Gesner observes, tis pride and vanity that eggs them on; no news or aught worthy of note, but the same in other terms. Perhaps the printers should not be struck, or something must be written to prove that they lived. As apothecaries we make new mixtures everyday, pour out of one vessel into another; and as those old Romans robbed all the cities of the world, to set out their bad-sited Rome, we skim off the cream of other men's wits, pick the choice flowers of their tilled gardens to set out our own sterile plots. They castrate others to stuff their thin books with foreign fat, so Jovius inveighs. They lard their lean books with the fat of others' works. Unlearned thieves, and others. A fault that every writer finds, as I do now, and yet faulty themselves, Men of three letters, all thieves; they pilfer out of old writers to stuff up their new comments, scrape Ennius' dunghills, and out of Democritus' pit, as I have done. By which means it comes to pass, “that not only libraries and shops are full of our putrid papers, but every close-stool and jakes,” They write poems that they read while pooping; they serve to put under pies, to lap spice in, and keep roast meat from burning. “With us in France,” saith Scaliger, “every man hath liberty to write, but few ability.” “Heretofore learning was graced by judicious scholars, but now noble sciences are vilified by base and illiterate scribblers,” that either write for vainglory, need, to get money, or as Parasites to flatter and collogue with some great men, they put cut bullshit, rubbish and nonsense. Amongst so many thousand authors you shall scarce find one, by reading of whom you shall be any whit better, but rather much worse, by which it is infected rather than completed, by which he is rather infected than any way perfected. He who reads such. What has he learned at last, what does he know but dreams, nonsense? So that oftentimes it falls out, which Callimachus taxed of old, a great book is a great mischief. Cardan finds fault with Frenchmen and Germans, for their scribbling to no purpose, He does not say that I will deter them from eating, but that they may find something new, he doth not bar them to write, so that it be some new invention of their own; but we weave the same web still, twist the same rope again and again; or if it be a new invention, tis but some bauble or toy which idle fellows write, for as idle fellows to read, and who so cannot invent? “He must have a barren wit, that in this scribbling age can forge nothing. Princes show their armies, rich men vaunt their buildings, soldiers their manhood, and scholars vent their toys;” they must read, they must hear whether they will or no And whatever comes to the cards once, all of them. He will return from the oven to know the lake, And the children and the old. What once is said and writ, all men must know, Old wives and children as they come and go. “What a company of poets hath this year brought out,” as Pliny complains to Sossius Sinesius. “This April every day some or other have recited.” What a catalogue of new books all this year, all this age, I say, have our Frankfort Marts, our domestic Marts brought out? Twice a year, They present themselves as new characters and show off, we stretch our wits out, and set them to sale, we do nothing with great effort. So that which Gesner much desires, if a speedy reformation be not had, by some prince's edicts and grave supervisors, to restrain this liberty, it will run on infinitely. Who is so eager for helluva books, who can read them? As already, we shall have a vast chaos and confusion of books, we are oppressed with them, our eyes ache with reading, our fingers with turning. For my part I am one of the number, we are the number, we are mere ciphers: I do not deny it, I have only this of Macrobius to say for myself, Omne meum, nihil meum, tis all mine, and none mine. As a good housewife out of divers fleeces weaves one piece of cloth, a bee gathers wax and honey out of many flowers, and makes a new bundle of all, Flowers love everything like bees in forests, I have laboriously collected this cento out of divers writers, and that without injury, I have wronged no authors, but given every man his own; which Hierom so much commends in Nepotian; he stole not whole verses, pages, tracts, as some do nowadays, concealing their authors' names, but still said this was Cyprian's, that Lactantius, that Hilarius, so said Minutius Felix, so Victorinus, thus far Arnobius: I cite and quote mine authors, which, howsoever some illiterate scribblers account pedantical, as a cloak of ignorance, and opposite to their affected fine style, I must and will use, I took it, I did not steal it; and what Marcus Terentius Varro, in book Six of “About the country”, speaks of bees, at least the witches do nothing more than winking, I can say of myself, Whom have I injured? The matter is theirs most part, and yet mine, it appears whence it was taken, which Seneca approves, but it appears otherwise than whence it was taken, which nature doth with the aliment of our bodies incorporate, digest, assimilate, I do to digest what I drew, dispose of what I take. I make them pay tribute, to set out this my Maceronicon, the method only is mine own, I must usurp that of Wecker from Ter. nothing is said that has not been said before, the method alone shows the artist, we can say nothing but what hath been said, the composition and method is ours only, and shows a scholar. Oribasius, Aesius, Avicenna, have all out of Galen, but to their own method, in a different style, not different faith. Our poets steal from Homer; he spews, saith Aelian, they lick it up. Divines use Saint Augustine, also known as Austin's words verbatim still, and our story-dressers do as much; he that comes last is commonly best: Until the age is gr

https://doi.org/10.1111/jcmm.15194 Index Of Science Articles: https://rumble.com/v3t4yzj-index-of-science.-music-by-dan-vasc.html Mitochondrial biogenesis: An update. Lucia-Doina Popov. Journal of Cellular and Molecular Medicine 24, pages 4892 to 4899, 2020. Abstract. In response to the energy demand triggered by developmental signals and environmental stressors, cells launch the mitochondrial biogenesis process. This is a self-renewal route, by which new mitochondria are generated from the ones already existing. Recently, considerable progress has been made in deciphering mitochondrial biogenesis-related proteins and genes that function in health and in pathology related circumstances. However, an outlook on the intracellular mechanisms shared by the main players that drive mitochondrial biogenesis machinery is still missing. Here, we provide such a view by focusing on the following issues: (a) The role of mitochondrial biogenesis in homeostasis of the mitochondrial mass and function, (b) The signalling pathways beyond the induction, promotion, stimulation and inhibition of mitochondrial biogenesis and, (c) The therapeutic applications aiming at the repair and regeneration of defective mitochondrial biogenesis, in ageing, metabolic diseases, neurodegeneration and cancer. The review is concluded by the perspectives of mitochondrial medicine and research. One, mitochondrial homeostasis. Mitochondria are the major source of energy for cellular activity, by ATP generation via oxidative phosphorylation. Emerging evidence of the last decade indicates that mitochondria form a highly dynamic intracellular network that executes the “quality control” of the organelle's population in a process that implies their fusion, fission and autophagic degradation, known as “mitophagy”. Mitochondria regulate the operation of intracellular signalling cascades, generate reactive oxygen species (ROS), execute fatty acid beta-oxidation, participate in amino acid metabolism, pyridine synthesis, phospholipid modifications, calcium regulation and cells survival, senescence and death. The homeostasis of any healthy cell implies also a controlled regulation of mitochondrial mass and function, as an adaptive response to safeguard the mitochondrial (mt) DNA and to meet the energy demands vital for cellular function. Mitochondrial homeostasis is preserved by the fine co-ordination between two opposing processes: generation of new mitochondria, by mitochondrial biogenesis, and the removal of damaged mitochondria, by mitophagy. Among the specific molecules involved in this fine-tuning, the recent data highlight the peroxisome proliferator activated receptor gamma coactivator, PGC one alpha, the main regulator of mitochondrial biogenesis, the PTEN-induced putative kinase 1, shortened to PINK 1Pakin, that activates protein synthesis in damaged mitochondria, and the ligand-activated transcription factor aryl hydrocarbon receptor, that functions also as a protector from oxidative stress. In examining mitochondrial homeostasis, one should consider the particular traits of these organelles in eukaryotic cells: (a) They have a prokaryotic origin and were acquired by eukaryoticcells via an endosymbiotic event. (b) Are semi-autonomous organelles: synthesize a rather small number of proteins by transcription and replication of mt DNA-encoded genes, while the larger proportion of mitochondrial proteome, around sixty to seventy percent, or more than ninety-five percent, is nuclear-encoded, synthesized on cytosolic ribosomes, and finally, sorted and imported to the appropriate intra-mitochondrial location. The encoding factors for nuclear genes identified so far are as follows: PGC-1 alpha, the transcription factor A (TFAM), the uncoupling proteins 2 (UCP2) and the uncoupling proteins 3 (UCP3), (c) Mitochondrial biogenesis implies a specific route consisting in the recruitment of the novel proteins by the pre-existing mitochondria, followed by their fragmentation, via fission. Associated with the rapid cell growth and proliferation, these events ensure the constant renewal of the mitochondrial population. Uncovering the complexity of the mitochondrial biogenesis operation is an exciting ongoing topic, and its main features are briefly examined next. Two. Mitochondrial biogenesis machinery, the associated signalling pathways. The process of mitochondrial biogenesis takes place mainly in healthy cells. Interesting, in cancerous cells enhanced oxidative phosphorylation and mitochondrial biogenesis were correlated with invasion and metastasis. It engages co-ordination between the mitochondrial and the nuclear genomes, in a complex and multistep process, Figure 1, that involves: One. mt DNA transcription and translation. Mt DNA transcription is activated by the family of PGC-1 proteins, PGC-1 alpha, PGC-1 beta and PGC-1, from which PGC-1 alpha is considered the master regulator of mitochondrial biogenesis. The pathway is initiated by PGC-1 alpha activation, by either phosphorylation or deacetylation, followed by stimulation of a series of nuclear transcription factors, that is the nuclear respiratory factor-1, NRF-1, NRF-2 and oestrogen-related receptor-alpha, ERR-alpha, and by the increase in expression of TFAM, the final effector of mt DNA transcription and replication. Next, translation of the mt DNA-encoded genes into proteins takes place with the assistance of specific translation factors, encoded by nuclear DNA, n DNA, such as the initiation factor 2 and 3, mtIF2 and mtIF3, the elongation factors Tu, Ts and G1, mtEFTu, mtEFTs and mtEFG1, the translational release factor1-like, mtRF1L, and the recycling factors, mtRRF1 and mtRRF. Furthermore, the levels of mitochondrial proteins are regulated by the translational activator of cytochrome c oxidase 1, TACO1, that binds the mitochondrial RNA, mRNA. Two. Synthesis, import and assembly of mitochondrial proteins encoded by nDNA. These mitochondrial proteins originate from the preproteins synthesized within the cytosol and provided with an amino-terminal cleavable targeting signal. The translocase TIM23 directs the signal of preproteins towards the mitochondrial matrix, where they assemble, and are sorted to a precise intra-mitochondrial location, that is the matrix or the inner mitochondrial membrane, IMM. The energy required for driving this import pathway is provided by the mitochondrial membrane potential and the ATP, by oxidative phosphorylation. The biogenesis of the outer mitochondrial membrane, OMM, proteins has been studied so far in unicellular organisms, such as the yeast Saccharomyces cerevisiae; the OMM functions as an interface with the cytosol and is particularly important for mitochondrial dynamic changes, fission, fusion, and interaction with other intracellular organelles. The mitochondrial biogenesis markers are the mt DNA copy numbers, the elevated mt DNA, n DNA ratio and the level of mitochondrial gene expression. In cancer cells, an augmented expression of PGC-1 alpha, NRF1 and TFAM was reported, although these cells have a reduced number of mitochondria. Moreover, a recent report underlines that the use of TFAM level as a biogenesis marker is questionable, as it does not always match the mt DNA copy number, and the expression of mt DNA-encoded polypeptides. What are the consequences of mitochondrial biogenesis? The current data acknowledge the increase in the oxidative phosphorylation capacity, the diminishment of pathologic oxidative stress and the repair of mitochondrial-associated dysfunctions. How can mitochondrial biogenesis be measured? Reliable strategies are based on the magnitude of mt DNA synthesis and of mitochondrial membrane phospholipids. In this context, two cautions are noted: (a) a change in the number of mitochondria is not indicative of biogenesis, as their amount is not exclusively due to synthesis, and (b) mitochondrial biogenesis may produce detrimental effects, such as the import of misfolded proteins into the organelle, and the silencing of the unfolded protein response in the endoplasmic reticulum. Two point one. Mitochondrial biogenesis inductors, promoters. Mitochondrial biogenesis induction is associated with activation of transcription factors that act on mitochondrial genes and with up-regulation of local translation of mitochondrial proteins. These effects are produced in response to several natural products, such as 6-gingerol, the main active component of the ginger extracts, and Ursolic acid, a natural triterpene. In contradistinction, relatively few synthetic drugs have been identified as mitochondrial biogenesis inductors. Reportedly, the following signalling pathways sustain transcription activation during mitochondrial biogenesis: The AMPK PGC-1 alpha pathway used by C1q, tumour necrosis factor-related protein-3, CTRP3, to promote biogenesis in cardiomyocytes, and by the ginger extract, in both mice and HepG2 cells. Furthermore, AMPK phosphorylates and activates histone acetyltransferase 1, HAT1, creating a more relaxed chromatin-DNA structure that favours transcription. AMPK phosphorylates also the epigenetic factor DNA methyltransferase 1, DNMT1, that limits transcription factors access to promoters. A recent report shows that the diterpene alkaloid benzoylaconine activates AMPK signaling cascade and stimulates mitochondrial biogenesis. The induction of PGC-1 alpha along with its downstream target genes, NRF1 and TFAM. Such signalling cascade was identified in pancreatic MIN6 beta-cells, after the humanin treatment, and in 3T3-L1 pre-adipocytes, after salicylate medication. Activation of PGC-1 alpha signalling pathway is mediated also by the transcription factor cAMP response element-binding protein CREB. It binds to certain DNA sequences, the cAMP response elements, and subsequently increases, decreases gene transcription. In endothelial cells, CREB, PGC-1 alpha pathway promotes mitochondrial biogenesis by activation of G protein-coupled receptor, TGR5, the route operating also after lixisenatide medication, a drug approved by the US Food and Drug Administration for the treatment of type 2 diabetes. Stimulation of the G beta gamma, a component of heterotrimeric G proteins, Akt-eNOS-sGC, soluble guanylatecyclase, pathway by the beta 2 adrenergic receptor agonists, such as formoterol, allowing recovery from acute and chronic degenerative diseases, and carvedilol, employed in heart failure. The return to normal of the Akt, transcription factor FoxO3a axis under the influence of dietary beta-hydroxy-beta-methylbutyrate, HMB, is another condition that improves mitochondrial biogenesis. The sirtuins assistance in transcription: it is known that the silent information regulator-1 (SIRT1) activates the PGC-1 alpha-mediated transcription of nuclear and mitochondrial genes encoding for proteins during mitochondria proliferation, oxidative phosphorylation and energy production, while SIRT3 stimulates the proteins important for oxidative phosphorylation, tricarboxylic acid cycle and fatty-acid oxidation, and indirectly, the PGC-1 alpha and AMPK. If the above data is taken together, it is obvious that up-regulation of transcription factors is a key event in mitochondrial biogenesis. However, depending on ligands specificity, unwanted genes may be equally activated, conducting to detrimental, neurological and hyperproliferative, effects. Up-regulation of mitochondrial proteins translation is associated with exercise-induced mitochondrial biogenesis, in the plantaris muscle. An interesting mechanism implied in biogenesis of healthy mitochondria was deciphered in Drosphila: the MDI protein of the mitochondrial OM recruits the translational stimulator La-related protein (Larp) and promotes the synthesis, on the mitochondrial surface, of a subset of nuclear-encoded mitochondrial proteins by cytosolic ribosomes. 2.2. Mitochondrial biogenesis stimulators and inhibitors. In physiological conditions, the response of cells to energy demands leads to either up or down-regulation of the transcription factors that stimulate and, or inhibit mitochondrial biogenesis, respectively. The pathology-associated disturbances of mitochondrial biogenesis consist in an impeded mitochondrial biogenesis, a condition in which stimulation of the declined process is required, or in abnormal higher levels of this process, when and a diminishment is necessary. Examples of efficient stimulators of mitochondrial biogenesis are the following: formoterol, used for treating podocytopathies, resveratrol, a polyphenol, that prevents rotenone-induced neuronal degeneration, acetylcholine, protector in hypoxia, reoxygenation injury, adiponectin, a cardioprotector in diabetes, and tetrahydrobiopterin, helpful for the cardiac contractility. The cellular mechanism beyond the above stimulatory effects on mitochondrial biogenesis entails the up-regulated expression of the transcriptional regulator PGC-1 alpha. Recently, normalization of Akt, FoxO3 axis was reported to be involved in the protective effects of dietary HMB against lipopolysaccharide (LPS)-induced muscle atrophy. Another regulatory mechanism is based on phosphorylation of GSK-3 beta exerted by arachidonyl-2-chloroethylamide, ACEA, a selective agonist of cannabinoid receptor1, effective at the beginning of cerebral ischemia. Several natural extracts have been found to stimulate mitochondrial biogenesis. Such regulatory effects were recently reported for the Kaempferia parviflora extracts, containing methoxy flavones, that act through the SIRT1, AMPK, PGC-1 alpha, PPAR delta pathway. For tangeretin, a polymethoxylated flavonoid of mandarin fruits, activator of AMPK, PGC-1 alpha pathway, for salidroside, isolated from Rhodiola rosea, that stimulates the miR22, SIRT1 pathway. For the spice saffron, Crocus Sativus, that augmented NRF-1 gene expression in exercised rats, and for the natural precursor of resveratrol, polydatin that enhances SIRT1 expression. The inhibitors of mitochondrial biogenesis. These down-regulate the expression of the associated-transcription factors, such as PGC-1 alpha, TFAM and AMPK. The activity of PGC-1 alpha pathway is reduced by miR-130b-p, 2-methoxyestradiol, cyclosporine A, XCT790, a potent and selective inhibitor of the oestrogen related receptor alpha, and the high glucose high fat environment. The down-regulation of TFAM takes place at the use of the local anaesthetic ropivacaine and at the in vitro treatment of cells with silica nanoparticles. Furthermore, the diminished AMPK expression explains resistin inhibitory effects on mitochondrial biogenesis. It is evident that reduced biogenesis is accompanied by other mitochondrial dysfunctions, such as an impaired ATP synthesis capacity leading to acceleration of mitophagy, critical for cell health. A reduced mt DNA, nuclear ratio has also been reported to be associated with the impairment of biogenesis, altered biogenesis. The examination of the two opposite sides of mitochondrial biogenesis, that is the impairment, such as in ageing, metabolic and neurodegenerative diseases, and the abnormal intensification, in some tumours, conducted in the last decade have led to the identification of several strategies adequate for exploitation in therapy. Examples are discussed next. Three. Dysregulation of mitochondrial biogenesis and repair strategies. 3.1 Ageing. The cells senescence and the consequent ageing is associated with the impairment of mitochondrial biogenesis and bioenergetics potential, the decrease in mitochondrial dynamics, the altered quality control, the failure in mt DNA repair, the accumulation of mt DNA mutations and the decline in mitophagy. The main factors involved in ageing effects on mitochondrial biogenesis are the reduced activity of AMPK alpha and the decreased expression of SIRT1, PGC-1 alpha, TFAM and NRF-1 and 2, along with the regulatory loop that engages PGC-1 alpha and NRF-2 interaction. Strategies to prevent, delay age-associated decline in mitochondrial biogenesis consists in stimulation of PGC-1 alpha signalling with tetrahydrobiopterin or with resveratrol, modulation of TFAM binding to mt DNA, mitophagy regulation, dietary supplementation with acetyl-l-carnitine, ALCAR, cells exposure to gomisin A, a bio-active compound isolated from the fruit of Schisandra chinensis, regular exercise training, and the calorie restriction. The current endeavours aimed to delay, counteract the age-associated decline of mitochondrial biogenesis may have translational relevance for promotion of healthy ageing, for protection against age-related pathologies and for the improvement of the quality of life of the elderly. 3.2 Metabolic diseases. The impairment of mitochondrial biogenesis and function has been linked to metabolic diseases such as type 2 diabetes and obesity. In a diabetic’ kidney, the mechanism beyond the reduced mitochondrial biogenesis implies the decrease of PGC-1 alpha, AMPK, SIRT-1 signalling pathway. In placentae of diabetic mothers, impaired mitochondrial biogenesis engages PGC-1 alpha, TFAM signalling pathway and is mainly present at male offspring; this trait may explain the propensity for development of future metabolic diseases in adult males. In a diabetics’ heart, earlier studies reported that hypoadiponectinemia impaired AMPK-PGC-1 alpha signaling. More recently, in a model for type 2 diabetes, a high glucose, high-fat medium, adiponectin was found to partial rescue mitochondrial biogenesis in cardiomyocytes, via PGC-1 alpha mediated signalling. This pathway participates in cardioprotection and is evaluated as a novel therapeutic target. Mitochondrion is regarded now as a possible target for the prevention and treatment of chronic metabolic disorders; in this context, the endurance exercise it is routinely used to alleviate the reduced mitochondrial biogenesis. Furthermore, the antidiabetic effect of mitochondrial biogenesis enhancers, such as Spirulina platensis and Alogliptin, a dipeptidyl-peptidase-4 inhibitor, were recently reported. Another ongoing topic is the regulation of mitochondrial biogenesis in adipocytes. The obesity associated signalling entails hyperacetylation of PGC-1 alpha, and induction of pAMPK, PGC-1 alpha, NRF-1 and TFAM, after the salicylate treatment of pre-adipocytes. Activation of AMPK along with stimulation of mitochondrial gene expression and mt DNA replication explain the beneficial effects of isorhamnetin, 3-O-methyl quercetin, on adipocyte mitochondrial biogenesis. AMPK activation contributes also to the anti-obesity effects of zeaxanthin, an oxygenated carotenoid, that promotes mitochondrial biogenesis and expression of brown and beige adipogenesis markers. The regulation of mitochondrial biogenesis in beige adipocytes, in the course of browning, involves PGC-1 alpha signalling, associated with miR-494-3p expression. Other stimulatory factors of mitochondrial biogenesis are NRF-1 and the mitochondrial transcription factor A that intervene in the effect of metformin on brown adipocytes. In contradistinction, decreased UCP1 expression explains the reduced mitochondrial biogenesis generated by arsenite in brown adipocytes. The above basic findings may be used as a basis for further clinical approaches in metabolic diseases. 3.3 Neurodegeneration. Mitochondrial biogenesis is a potential novel therapeutic target for neurodegenerative diseases treatment including Alzheimer's disease (AD), Parkinson's disease (PD), Huntington's disease (HD) and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). Although this strategy is based on a plethora of basic and (pre)clinical results, in the present overview only the data on the intracellular pathways beyond mitochondrial biogenesis are mentioned. In AD and PD, mitochondrial biogenesis is impaired and augmenting this process is turned into a therapeutic approach. The intracellular mechanism was uncovered in hippocampal neurons, where amyloid beta 25 to 35 inhibits AMPK-SIRT-1, PGC-1 alpha pathway. Recent reports indicate melatonin, as a promoter of mitochondrial biogenesis, along with resveratrol, that induced PGC-1 alpha and mt TFA expression, berberine, a natural AMPK activator, that stimulates PGC-1 alpha and NRF-2 in neuronal cells, and rotenone, an inhibitor of Complex One. Moreover, necdin, a melanoma antigen, prevents mitochondria-associated neurodegeneration by binding to PGC-1 alpha and suppressing its proteolytic degradation in the ubiquitin-proteasomal system. Interestingly, mt DNA replication appears to be an early response to neurodegeneration associated stress and a precursor for mitochondrial biogenesis in axons. Distinctly, the neurotoxic effect of some medicines is accompanied by reduced mitochondrial biogenesis. An example is the local anaesthetic ropivacaine, employed in medical and dental care, that reduces expression of mitochondrial regulators PGC-1 alpha, NRF-1 and TFAM. 3.4 Cancer. It is known that mitochondrial biogenesis targeted therapies are efficient for the prevention and treatment of relapsed and resistant cancers. The pointed intracellular pathways are PGC-1 alpha, important also for the cells adaptive response against chemotherapeutic stress, AMPK, a proximal signalling step for mitochondrial biogenesis, and dynamin-related protein-1 (Drp1) up-regulation, accompanied by augmented levels of PGC-1 alpha, NRF-1 and TFAM. Among the modulators of mitochondrial biogenesis, sulforaphane, a sulphur-rich compound found in cruciferous vegetables, is considered a potential antineoplastic agent; in prostate cancer cells, it stabilizes NRF-2, increases the expression of PGC-1 alpha and decreases the level of hypoxia-inducible factor-1 alpha, HIF-1 alpha. Chemotherapy medication with cisplatin stimulates PGC-1 alpha expression and up-regulates mitochondrial biogenesis. Mitochondrial biogenesis is increased in some invasive cancer cells, such as osteosarcoma; the use of 2-methoxyestradiol inhibits biogenesis, via regulation of PGC-1 alpha, COX1 and SIRT-3. In this circumstance, the strategy to stop the increased propagation of cancer stem cells consists in doxycycline inhibition of mitochondrial biogenesis. Four. Conclusion and perspectives. The mitochondrial biogenesis is a complex biological process, Figure 1, that controls organelle's self-renewal and the maintenance of mt DNA, ensuing cell homeostasis. This topic is under intense investigation at present. The intracellular signalling pathways uncovered so far identified PGC-1 alpha as a master regulator of mitochondrial biogenesis, implicated in the response to several inductors, promoters, stimulators and inhibitors. Dysregulated mitochondrial biogenesis occurs not only in senescence and ageing, but also in metabolic diseases, neurodegeneration and cancer, and is potentially ameliorated by the novel mitochondria-based therapies. However, there are still several issues that require an answer, such as the association between impaired mitochondrial biogenesis and the early stage of myocardial remodeling, the neuron-specific mechanism of mitochondrial biogenesis, and the limitation of osteoarthrosis progression in chondrocytes, among others. Challenging topics are the exploitation of mitochondria based therapies for the treatment of chronic degenerative diseases and for the prevention of cancer. FIGURE 1. Mitochondrial biogenesis in brief: the central role of PGC-1 alpha activation and the contribution of proteins encoded by both nuclear and mitochondrial genomes, n DNA and mt DNA, to enhance the mitochondrial proteins content. AMPK, 5' adenosine monophosphate activated protein kinase; ERR, the oestrogen-related receptor; NRF, the nuclear respiratory factor; PGC-1 alpha, the peroxisome proliferator-activated receptor gamma coactivator-1 alpha; SIRT-1, the silent information regulator-1; TFAM, the transcription factor alpha; TIM 23, translocase.

Effects of Intermittent Fasting on Health, Aging, and Disease. By Rafael de Cabo, P-H-D, and Mark P Mattson, P-H-D. 2020. Index of Science Articles: https://rumble.com/v3t4yzj-index-of-science.-music-by-dan-vasc.html According to Weindruch and Sohal in a 1997 article in the Journal, reducing food availability over a lifetime, caloric restriction, has remarkable effects on aging and the life span in animals. The authors proposed that the health benefits of caloric restriction result from a passive reduction in the production of damaging oxygen free radicals. At the time, it was not generally recognized that because rodents on caloric restriction typically consume their entire daily food allotment within a few hours after its provision, they have a daily fasting period of up to 20 hours, during which ketogenesis occurs. Since then, hundreds of studies in animals and scores of clinical studies of controlled intermittent fasting regimens have been conducted in which metabolic switching from liver-derived glucose to adipose cell–derived ketones occurs daily or several days each week. Although the magnitude of the effect of intermittent fasting on life-span extension is variable, influenced by sex, diet, and genetic factors, studies in mice and nonhuman primates show consistent effects of caloric restriction on the health span, see the studies listed in Section S3 in the Supplementary Appendix, available with the full text of this article at NEJM dot org. Studies in animals and humans have shown that many of the health benefits of intermittent fasting are not simply the result of reduced free-radical production or weight loss. Instead, intermittent fasting elicits evolutionarily conserved, adaptive cellular responses that are integrated between and within organs in a manner that improves glucose regulation, increases stress resistance, and suppresses inflammation. During fasting, cells activate pathways that enhance intrinsic defenses against oxidative and metabolic stress and those that remove or repair damaged molecules, see Figure one. During the feeding period, cells engage in tissue specific processes of growth and plasticity. However, most people consume three meals a day plus snacks, so intermittent fasting does not occur. Preclinical studies consistently show the robust disease-modifying efficacy of intermittent fasting in animal models on a wide range of chronic disorders, including obesity, diabetes, cardiovascular disease, cancers, and neurodegenerative brain diseases. Periodic flipping of the metabolic switch not only provides the ketones that are necessary to fuel cells during the fasting period but also elicits highly orchestrated systemic and cellular responses that carry over into the fed state to bolster mental and physical performance, as well as disease resistance. Here, we review studies in animals and humans that have shown how intermittent fasting affects general health indicators and slows or reverses aging and disease processes. First, we describe the most commonly studied intermittent fasting regimens and the metabolic and cellular responses to intermittent fasting. We then present and discuss findings from preclinical studies and more recent clinical studies that tested intermittent-fasting regimens in healthy persons and in patients with metabolic disorders, obesity, insulin resistance, hypertension, or a combination of these disorders. Finally, we provide practical information on how intermittent fasting regimens can be prescribed and implemented. The practice of long-term fasting, from many days to weeks, is not discussed here, and we refer interested readers to the European clinical experience with such fasting protocols. Intermittent Fasting and Metabolic Switching. Glucose and fatty acids are the main sources of energy for cells. After meals, glucose is used for energy, and fat is stored in adipose tissue as triglycerides. During periods of fasting, triglycerides are broken down to fatty acids and glycerol, which are used for energy. The liver converts fatty acids to ketone bodies, which provide a major source of energy for many tissues, especially the brain, during fasting, Figure 2. In the fed state, blood levels of ketone bodies are low, and in humans, they rise within 8 to 12 hours after the onset of fasting, reaching levels of 0.2 to 0.5 milli Molar, which are maintained through 24 hours, with a subsequent increase to 1 to 2 milli Molar by 48 hours. In rodents, an elevation of plasma ketone levels occurs within 4 to 8 hours after the onset of fasting, reaching milli molar levels within 24 hours. The timing of this response gives some indication of the appropriate periods for fasting in intermittent-fasting regimens. In humans, the three most widely studied intermittent-fasting regimens are alternate-day fasting, 5 to 2 intermittent fasting, fasting 2 days each week, and daily time-restricted feeding. Diets that markedly reduce caloric intake on 1 day or more each week, for example, a reduction to 500 to 700 calories per day, result in elevated levels of ketone bodies on those days. The metabolic switch from the use of glucose as a fuel source to the use of fatty acids and ketone bodies results in a reduced respiratory-exchange ratio, the ratio of carbon dioxide produced to oxygen consumed, indicating the greater metabolic flexibility and efficiency of energy production from fatty acids and ketone bodies. Ketone bodies are not just fuel used during periods of fasting; they are potent signaling molecules with major effects on cell and organ functions. Ketone bodies regulate the expression and activity of many proteins and molecules that are known to influence health and aging. These include peroxisome proliferator activated receptor gamma coactivator one alpha, or PGC one alpha, fibroblast growth factor, nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide, or NAD plus, sirtuins, poly adenosine diphosphate ADP ribose polymerase one, or PARP one, and ADP ribosyl cyclase, or CD38. By influencing these major cellular pathways, ketone bodies produced during fasting have profound effects on systemic metabolism. Moreover, ketone bodies stimulate expression of the gene for brain-derived neurotrophic factor, Figure 2, with implications for brain health and psychiatric and neurodegenerative disorders. How much of the benefit of intermittent fasting is due to metabolic switching and how much is due to weight loss? Many studies have indicated that several of the benefits of intermittent fasting are dissociated from its effects on weight loss. These benefits include improvements in glucose regulation, blood pressure, and heart rate; the efficacy of endurance training; and abdominal fat loss, see Supplementary Section S1. Intermittent Fasting and Stress Resistance. In contrast to people today, our human ancestors did not consume three regularly spaced, large meals, plus snacks, every day, nor did they live a sedentary life. Instead, they were occupied with acquiring food in ecologic niches in which food sources were sparsely distributed. Over time, Homo sapiens underwent evolutionary changes that supported adaptation to such environments, including brain changes that allowed creativity, imagination, and language and physical changes that enabled species members to cover large distances on their own muscle power to stalk prey. The research reviewed here, and discussed in more detail elsewhere, shows that most if not all organ systems respond to intermittent fasting in ways that enable the organism to tolerate or overcome the challenge and then restore homeostasis. Repeated exposure to fasting periods results in lasting adaptive responses that confer resistance to subsequent challenges. Cells respond to intermittent fasting by engaging in a coordinated adaptive stress response that leads to increased expression of antioxidant defenses, DNA repair, protein quality control, mitochondrial biogenesis and autophagy, and down-regulation of inflammation, Figure 3. These adaptive responses to fasting and feeding are conserved across taxa. Cells throughout the bodies and brains of animals maintained on intermittent fasting regimens show improved function and robust resistance to a broad range of potentially damaging insults, including those involving metabolic oxidative, ionic, traumatic, and proteotoxic stress. Intermittent fasting stimulates autophagy and mitophagy while inhibiting the mTOR, mammalian target of rapamycin, protein-synthesis pathway. These responses enable cells to remove oxidatively damaged proteins and mitochondria and recycle undamaged molecular constituents while temporarily reducing global protein synthesis to conserve energy and molecular resources, Figure 3. These pathways are untapped or suppressed in persons who overeat and are sedentary. Effects of Intermittent Fasting on Health and Aging. Until recently, studies of caloric restriction and intermittent fasting focused on aging and the life span. After nearly a century of research on caloric restriction in animals, the overall conclusion was that reduced food intake robustly increases the life span. In one of the earliest studies of intermittent fasting, Goodrick and colleagues reported that the average life span of rats is increased by up to 80 percent when they are maintained on a regimen of alternate-day feeding, started when they are young adults. However, the magnitude of the effects of caloric restriction on the health span and life span varies and can be influenced by sex, diet, age, and genetic factors. A meta-analysis of data available from 1934 to 2012 showed that caloric restriction increases the median life span by 14 to 45 percenr in rats but by only 4 to 27 percent in mice. A study of 41 recombinant inbred strains of mice showed wide variation, ranging from a substantially extended life span to a shortened life span, depending on the strain and sex. However, the study used only one caloric restriction regimen, 40 percent restriction, and did not evaluate health indicators, causes of death, or underlying mechanisms. There was an inverse relationship between adiposity reduction and life span suggesting that animals with a shortened life span had a greater reduction in adiposity and transitioned more rapidly to starvation when subjected to such severe caloric restriction, whereas animals with an extended life span had the least reduction in fat. The discrepant results of two landmark studies in monkeys challenged the link between health-span extension and life-span extension with caloric restriction. One of the studies, at the University of Wisconsin, showed a positive effect of caloric restriction on both health and survival, whereas the other study, at the National Institute on Aging, showed no significant reduction in mortality, despite clear improvements in overall health. Differences in the daily caloric intake, onset of the intervention, diet composition, feeding protocols, sex, and genetic background may explain the differential effects of caloric restriction on life span in the two studies. In humans, intermittent-fasting interventions ameliorate obesity, insulin resistance, dyslipidemia, hypertension, and inflammation. Intermittent fasting seems to confer health benefits to a greater extent than can be attributed just to a reduction in caloric intake. In one trial, 16 healthy participants assigned to a regimen of alternate day fasting for 22 days lost 2.5 percent of their initial weight and 4 percent of fat mass, with a 57 percent decrease in fasting insulin levels. In two other trials, overweight women, approximately 100 women in each trial, were assigned to either a 5 to 2 intermittent fasting regimen or a 25 percent reduction in daily caloric intake. The women in the two groups lost the same amount of weight during the 6-month period, but those in the group assigned to 5 to 2 intermittent fasting had a greater increase in insulin sensitivity and a larger reduction in waist circumference. Physical and Cognitive Effects of Intermittent Fasting. In animals and humans, physical function is improved with intermittent fasting. For example, despite having similar body weight, mice maintained on alternate-day fasting have better running endurance than mice that have unlimited access to food. Balance and coordination are also improved in animals on daily time-restricted feeding or alternate-day fasting regimens. Young men who fast daily for 16 hours lose fat while maintaining muscle mass during 2 months of resistance training. Studies in animals show that intermittent fasting enhances cognition in multiple domains, including spatial memory, associative memory, and working memory; alternate-day fasting and daily caloric restriction reverse the adverse effects of obesity, diabetes, and neuro-inflammation on spatial learning and memory, see Section S4. In a clinical trial, older adults on a short-term regimen of caloric restriction had improved verbal memory. In a study involving overweight adults with mild cognitive impairment, 12 months of caloric restriction led to improvements in verbal memory, executive function, and global cognition. More recently, a large, multicenter, randomized clinical trial showed that 2 years of daily caloric restriction led to a significant improvement in working memory. There is certainly a need to undertake further studies of intermittent fasting and cognition in older people, particularly given the absence of any pharmacologic therapies that influence brain aging and progression of neurodegenerative diseases. Clinical Applications. In this section, we briefly review examples of findings from studies of intermittent fasting in preclinical animal models of disease and in patients with various diseases. Additional published studies are listed in Section S5. Obesity and Diabetes Mellitus. In animal models, intermittent feeding improves insulin sensitivity, prevents obesity caused by a high-fat diet, and ameliorates diabetic retinopathy. On the island of Okinawa, the traditional population typically maintains a regimen of intermittent fasting and has low rates of obesity and diabetes mellitus, as well as extreme longevity. Okinawans typically consume a low-calorie diet from energy-poor but nutrient-rich sources, particularly Okinawan sweet potatoes, other vegetables, and legumes. Likewise, members of the Calorie Restriction Society, who follow the CRON, Calorie Restriction with Optimal Nutrition, diet, have low rates of diabetes mellitus, with low levels of insulin-like growth factor 1, growth hormone, and markers of inflammation and oxidative stress. A multicenter study showed that daily caloric restriction improves many cardio-metabolic risk factors in non-obese humans. Furthermore, six short-term studies involving overweight or obese adults have shown that intermittent fasting is as effective for weight loss as standard diets. Two recent studies showed that daily caloric restriction or 4 to 3 intermittent fasting, 24-hour fasting three times a week, reversed insulin resistance in patients with prediabetes or type 2 diabetes. However, in a 12-month study comparing alternate-day fasting, daily caloric restriction, and a control diet, participants in both intervention groups lost weight but did not have any improvements in insulin sensitivity, lipid levels, or blood pressure, as compared with participants in the control group. Cardiovascular Disease. Intermittent fasting improves multiple indicators of cardiovascular health in animals and humans, including blood pressure; resting heart rate; levels of high-density and low-density lipoprotein, HDL and LDL, cholesterol, triglycerides, glucose, and insulin; and insulin resistance. In addition, intermittent fasting reduces markers of systemic inflammation and oxidative stress that are associated with atherosclerosis. Analyses of electrocardiographic recordings show that intermittent fasting increases heart-rate variability by enhancing parasympathetic tone in rats and humans. The CALERIE, Comprehensive Assessment of Long-Term Effects of Reducing Intake of Energy, study showed that a 12 percent reduction in daily calorie intake for a period of 2 years improves many cardiovascular risk factors in non-obese persons. Varady et al reported that alternate-day fasting was effective for weight loss and cardio-protection in normal-weight and overweight adults. Improvements in cardiovascular health indicators typically become evident within 2 to 4 weeks after the start of alternate day fasting and then dissipate over a period of several weeks after resumption of a normal diet. Cancer. More than a century ago, Moreschi and Rous described the beneficial effect of fasting and caloric restriction on tumors in animals. Since then, numerous studies in animals have shown that daily caloric restriction or alternate-day fasting reduces the occurrence of spontaneous tumors during normal aging in rodents and suppresses the growth of many types of induced tumors while increasing their sensitivity to chemotherapy and irradiation. Similarly, intermittent fasting is thought to impair energy metabolism in cancer cells, inhibiting their growth and rendering them susceptible to clinical treatments. The underlying mechanisms involve a reduction of signaling through the insulin and growth hormone receptors and an enhancement of the forkhead box O, FOXO, and nuclear factor erythroid 2 related factor 2, NRF2, transcription factors. Genetic deletion of NRF2 or FOXO1 obliterates the protective effects of intermittent fasting against induced carcinogenesis while preserving extension of the life span, and deletion of FOXO3 preserves the anticancer protection but diminishes the longevity effect. Activation of these transcription factors and downstream targets by means of intermittent fasting may provide protection against cancer while bolstering the stress resistance of normal cells, see Figure one. Clinical trials of intermittent fasting in patients with cancer have been completed or are in progress. Most of the initial trials have focused on compliance, side effects, and characterization of biomarkers. For example, a trial of daily caloric restriction in men with prostate cancer showed excellent adherence, 95 percent and no adverse events. Several case studies involving patients with glioblastoma suggest that intermittent fasting can suppress tumor growth and extend survival. Ongoing trials listed on Clinical Trials dot gov, focus on intermittent fasting in patients with breast, ovarian, prostate, endometrial, and colorectal cancers and glioblastoma, see Supplementary Table S1. Specific intermittent-fasting regimens vary among studies, but all involve imposition of intermittent fasting during chemotherapy. No studies have yet determined whether intermittent fasting affects cancer recurrence in humans. Neurodegenerative Disorders. Epidemiologic data suggest that excessive energy intake, particularly in midlife, increases the risks of stroke, Alzheimer’s disease, and Parkinson’s disease. There is strong preclinical evidence that alternate-day fasting can delay the onset and progression of the disease processes in animal models of Alzheimer’s disease and Parkinson’s disease. Intermittent fasting increases neuronal stress resistance through multiple mechanisms, including bolstering mitochondrial function and stimulating autophagy, neurotrophic-factor production, antioxidant defenses, and DNA repair. Moreover, intermittent fasting enhances GABAergic inhibitory neurotransmission, meaning gamma aminobutyric acid related inhibitory neurotransmission, which can prevent seizures and excitotoxicity. Data from controlled trials of intermittent fasting in persons at risk for or affected by a neurodegenerative disorder are lacking. Ideally, an intervention would be initiated early in the disease process and continued long enough to detect a disease-modifying effect of the intervention. For example a 1-year study. Asthma, Multiple Sclerosis, and Arthritis. Weight loss reduces the symptoms of asthma in obese patients. In one study, patients who adhered to the alternate-day fasting regimen had an elevated serum level of ketone bodies on energy restriction days and lost weight over a 2-month period, during which asthma symptoms and airway resistance were mitigated. A reduction in symptoms was associated with significant reductions in serum levels of markers of inflammation and oxidative stress. Multiple sclerosis is an autoimmune disorder characterized by axon demyelination and neuronal degeneration in the central nervous system. Alternate-day fasting and periodic cycles of 3 consecutive days of energy restriction reduce autoimmune demyelination and improve the functional outcome in a mouse model of multiple sclerosis, experimentally induced autoimmune encephalomyelitis. Two recent pilot studies showed that patients with multiple sclerosis who adhere to intermittent-fasting regimens have reduced symptoms in as short a period as 2 months. Because it reduces inflammation, intermittent fasting would also be expected to be beneficial in rheumatoid arthritis, and indeed, there is evidence supporting its use in patients with arthritis. Surgical and Ischemic Tissue Injury. Intermittent-fasting regimens reduce tissue damage and improve functional outcomes of traumatic and ischemic tissue injury in animal models. Preoperative fasting reduces tissue damage and inflammation and improves the outcomes of surgical procedures. In animal models of vascular surgical injury, 3 days of fasting reduced ischemia–reperfusion injury in the liver and kidneys and, before the injury, resulted in a reduction in trauma-induced carotid-artery intimal hyperplasia. A randomized, multicenter study showed that 2 weeks of preoperative daily energy restriction improves outcomes in patients undergoing gastric-bypass surgery. Such findings suggest that preoperative intermittent fasting can be a safe and effective method of improving surgical outcomes. Several studies have shown beneficial effects of intermittent fasting in animal models of traumatic head or spinal cord injury. Intermittent fasting after injury was also effective in ameliorating cognitive deficits in a mouse model of traumatic brain injury. When initiated either before or after cervical or thoracic spinal cord injury, intermittent fasting reduces tissue damage and improves functional outcomes in rats. Emerging evidence suggests that intermittent fasting may enhance athletic performance and may prove to be a practical approach for reducing the morbidity and mortality associated with traumatic brain and spinal cord injuries in athletes. See the section above on the physical effects of intermittent fasting. Studies in animals have shown that intermittent fasting can protect the brain, heart, liver, and kidneys against ischemic injury. However, the potential therapeutic benefits of intermittent fasting in patients with stroke or myocardial infarction remain to be tested. Practical Considerations. Despite the evidence for the health benefits of intermittent fasting and its applicability to many diseases, there are impediments to the widespread adoption of these eating patterns in the community and by patients. First, a diet of three meals with snacks every day is so ingrained in our culture that a change in this eating pattern will rarely be contemplated by patients or doctors. The abundance of food and extensive marketing in developed nations are also major hurdles to be overcome. Second, on switching to an intermittent fasting regimen, many people will experience hunger, irritability, and a reduced ability to concentrate during periods of food restriction. However, these initial side effects usually disappear within 1 month, and patients should be advised of this fact. Third, most physicians are not trained to prescribe specific intermittent-fasting interventions. Physicians can advise patients to gradually, over a period of several months, reduce the time window during which they consume food each day, with the goal of fasting for 16 to 18 hours a day, Figure 4. Alternatively, physicians can recommend the 5 to 2 intermittent-fasting diet, with 900 to 1000 calories consumed 1 day per week for the first month and then 2 days per week for the second month, followed by further reductions to 750 calories 2 days per week for the third month and, ultimately, 500 calories 2 days per week for the fourth month. A dietitian or nutritionist should be consulted to ensure that the nutritional needs of the patient are being met and to provide continued counseling and education. As with all lifestyle interventions, it is important that physicians provide adequate information, ongoing communication and support, and regular positive reinforcement. Conclusions. Preclinical studies and clinical trials have shown that intermittent fasting has broad-spectrum benefits for many health conditions, such as obesity, diabetes mellitus, cardiovascular disease, cancers, and neurologic disorders. Animal models show that intermittent fasting improves health throughout the life span, whereas clinical studies have mainly involved relatively short term interventions, over a period of months. It remains to be determined whether people can maintain intermittent fasting for years and potentially accrue the benefits seen in animal models. Furthermore, clinical studies have focused mainly on overweight young and middle age adults, and we cannot generalize to other age groups the benefits and safety of intermittent fasting that have been observed in these studies. Although we do not fully understand the specific mechanisms, the beneficial effects of intermittent fasting involve metabolic switching and cellular stress resistance. However, some people are unable or unwilling to adhere to an intermittent-fasting regimen. By further understanding the processes that link intermittent fasting with broad health benefits, we may be able to develop targeted pharmacologic therapies that mimic the effects of intermittent fasting without the need to substantially alter feeding habits. Studies of the mechanisms of caloric restriction and intermittent fasting in animal models have led to the development and testing of pharmacologic interventions that mimic the health and disease-modifying benefits of intermittent fasting. Examples include agents that impose a mild metabolic challenge, 2-deoxyglucose, metformin, and mitochondrial-uncoupling agents, bolster mitochondrial bioenergetics, ketone ester or nicotinamide riboside, or inhibit the mTOR pathway, sirolimus. However, the available data from animal models suggest that the safety and efficacy of such pharmacologic approaches are likely to be inferior to those of intermittent fasting. Figure 1. Cellular Responses to Energy Restriction That Integrate Cycles of Feeding and Fasting with Metabolism. Total energy intake, diet composition, and length of fasting between meals contribute to oscillations in the ratios of the levels of the bioenergetic sensors nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide, known as NAD plus, to NADH, ATP to AMP, and acetyl CoA to CoA. These intermediate energy carriers activate downstream proteins that regulate cell function and stress resistance, including transcription factors such as forkhead box O’s, also called FOXO’s, peroxisome proliferator activated receptor gamma coactivator 1 alpha, abbreviated as PGC 1 alpha, and nuclear factor erythroid 2 related factor 2, referred to as NRF2. Kinases such as AMP kinase, or AMPK, and deacetylases such as sirtuins, abbreviated as SIRT’s. Intermittent fasting triggers neuroendocrine responses and adaptations characterized by low levels of amino acids, glucose, and insulin. Down-regulation of the insulin, insulin-like growth factor 1, IGF-1 signaling pathway and reduction of circulating amino acids repress the activity of mammalian target of rapamycin, abbreviated as mTOR, resulting in inhibition of protein synthesis and stimulation of autophagy. During fasting, the ratio of AMP to ATP is increased and AMPK is activated, triggering repair and inhibition of anabolic processes. Acetyl coenzyme A, CoA, and NAD plus serve as cofactors for epigenetic modifiers such as SIRT’s. SIRT’s deacetylate FOXO’s and PGC-1 alpha, resulting in the expression of genes involved in stress resistance and mitochondrial biogenesis. Collectively, the organism responds to intermittent fasting by minimizing anabolic processes, synthesis, growth, and reproduction, favoring maintenance and repair systems, enhancing stress resistance, recycling damaged molecules, stimulating mitochondrial biogenesis, and promoting cell survival, all of which support improvements in health and disease resistance. The abbreviation cAMP denotes cyclic AMP, CHO carbohydrate, PKA protein kinase A, and redox reduction oxidation. Figure 2. Metabolic Adaptations to Intermittent Fasting. Energy restriction for 10 to 14 hours or more results in depletion of liver glycogen stores and hydrolysis of triglycerides, TG’s, to free fatty acids, FFA’s, in adipocytes. FFA’s released into the circulation are transported into hepatocytes, where they produce the ketone bodies acetoacetate and Beta hydroxyl-butyrate, or Beta HB. FFA’s also activate the transcription factors peroxisome proliferator activated receptor alpha, referred to as PPAR alpha, and activating transcription factor 4, ATF4, resulting in the production and release of fibroblast growth factor 21, known as FGF21, a protein with widespread effects on cells throughout the body and brain. Beta HB and acetoacetate are actively transported into cells where they can be metabolized to acetyl CoA, which enters the tricarboxylic acid, TCA, cycle and generates ATP. Beta HB also has signaling functions, including the activation of transcription factors such as cyclic AMP response element–binding protein, abbreviated as CREB, and nuclear factor Kappa B, shortened as NF kappa B, and the expression of brain-derived neurotrophic factor, BDNF, in neurons. Reduced levels of glucose and amino acids during fasting result in reduced activity of the mTOR pathway and up-regulation of autophagy. In addition, energy restriction stimulates mitochondrial biogenesis and mitochondrial uncoupling. Figure 3. Cellular and Molecular Mechanisms Underlying Improved Organ Function and Resistance to Stress and Disease with Intermittent Metabolic Switching. Periods of dietary energy restriction sufficient to cause depletion of liver glycogen stores trigger a metabolic switch toward use of fatty acids and ketones. Cells and organ systems adapt to this bioenergetic challenge by activating signaling pathways that bolster mitochondrial function, stress resistance, and antioxidant defenses while up-regulating autophagy to remove damaged molecules and recycle their components. During the period of energy restriction, cells adopt a stress-resistance mode through reduction in insulin signaling and overall protein synthesis. Exercise enhances these effects of fasting. On recovery from fasting, eating and sleeping, glucose levels increase, ketone levels plummet, and cells increase protein synthesis, undergoing growth and repair. Maintenance of an intermittent fasting regimen, particularly when combined with regular exercise, results in many long-term adaptations that improve mental and physical performance and increase disease resistance. HRV denotes heart-rate variability. Figure 4. Incorporation of Intermittent-Fasting Patterns into Health Care Practice and Lifestyles. As a component of medical school training in disease prevention, students could learn the basics of how intermittent fasting affects metabolism and how cells and organs respond adaptively to intermittent fasting, the major indications for intermittent fasting, obesity, diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and cancers, and how to implement intermittent fasting prescriptions to maximize long-term benefits. Physicians can incorporate intermittent-fasting prescriptions for early intervention in patients with a range of chronic conditions or at risk for such conditions, particularly those conditions associated with overeating and a sedentary lifestyle. One can envision inpatient and outpatient facilities staffed by experts in diet, nutrition, exercise, and psychology that will help patients make the transition to sustainable intermittent-fasting and exercise regimens, covered by basic health insurance policies. As an example of a specific prescription, the patient could choose either a daily time-restricted feeding regimen, an 18-hour fasting period and a 6-hour eating period, or the 5 to 2 intermittent-fasting regimen, fasting, meaning an intake of 500 calories, 2 days per week, with a 4-month transition period to accomplish the goal. To facilitate adherence to the prescription, the physician’s staff should be in frequent contact with the patient during the 4-month period and should closely monitor the patient’s body weight and glucose and ketone levels.

https://doi.org/10.1080/07853890.2020.1770849 Index of Science Articles: https://rumble.com/v3t4yzj-index-of-science.-music-by-dan-vasc.html Unravelling the health effects of fasting: a long road from obesity treatment to healthy life span increase and improved cognition. Annals of medicine 2020, Volume 52, Number 5, pages 147 to 161. Françoise Wilhelmi de Toledo, and others. Buchinger Wilhelmi Clinic, Wilhelm-Beck-Strasse 27, Uberlingen, Germany. In recent years a revival of interest has emerged in the health benefits of intermittent fasting and long-term fasting, as well as of other related nutritional strategies. In addition to meal size and composition a new focus on time and frequency of meals has gained attention. The present review will investigate the effects of the main forms of fasting, activating the metabolic switch from glucose to fat and ketones (G-to-K), starting 12 to 16 hours after cessation or strong reduction of food intake. During fasting the deactivation of m-TOR regulated nutrient signalling pathways and activation of the AMP protein kinase trigger cell repair and inhibit anabolic processes. Clinical and animal studies have clearly indicated that modulating diet and meal frequency, as well as application of fasting patterns, for example, intermittent fasting, periodic fasting, or long-term fasting are part of a new lifestyle approach leading to increased life and health span, enhanced intrinsic defences against oxidative and metabolic stresses, improved cognition, as well as a decrease in cardiovascular risk in both obese and non-obese subjects. Finally, in order to better understand the mechanisms beyond fasting-related changes, human studies as well as non-human models closer to human physiology may offer useful clues. KEY-MESSAGES. 1. Biochemical changes during fasting are characterised by a glucose to ketone switch, leading to a rise of ketones, advantageously used for brain energy, with consequent improved cognition. 2. Ketones reduce appetite and help maintain effective fasting. 3. Application of fasting patterns increases healthy life span and defences against oxidative and metabolic stresses. 4. Today’s strategies for the use of therapeutic fasting are based on different protocols, generally relying on intermittent fasting, of different duration and calorie intake. 5. Long-term fasting, with durations between 5 and 21 days can be successfully repeated in the course of a year. 1. Introduction. In the evolution alternation of food availability and food scarcity has been the consequence of seasonal cycles with variations in sunlight exposure. Before humans could efficiently conserve food, physiological and behavioural adaptations to survive periods of food limitation, have led to the development of the metabolic fasting programmes. Storing food as fat in the adipose tissue instead of carbohydrates or proteins, was a highly efficient solution for humans and animals to cope with the absence of food supply and it permitted to fuel prolonged periods of fasting. In free living animals fasting is coupled with migration, hibernation or huddling to save energy. Bears and ground squirrels reduce energy expenditure by hibernating and undergo prolonged fasting periods of months with no or little food, whereas Emperor penguins fast during moulting and breeding. During fasting, they can stand colder conditions better than any other bird, while maintaining their usual body temperature thanks to the huddling behaviour. Birds can undertake strenuous efforts during long distance migration, while flying hundreds of kilometres without food or drink. Humans also had to adapt to natural cycles of food scarcity for millions of years and only with the onset of agriculture in the Neolithic era, more continuous food supply became available. This culminated in today’s technologies allowing humans in privileged countries to have access to any type of food at any time during the whole year. Extreme situations such as famine, chronic malnutrition, hunger strikes or long course of anorectic denial of food have also provided information about the human capacity to cope with long periods of food shortage. In addition to being a necessity for human survival, the ability to fast has been known in most religions as traditionally ritualised periods lasting from hours to weeks. Religions used fasting empirically for its effects on mind and body, as well as an important factor in community cohesion. In medicine fasting for 2 to 21 days or more was known for its numerous therapeutic effects that led to multidisciplinary fasting programmes, well-known in the public less in the scientific community. Total fasting safely practiced for 31 days has been documented scientifically at the beginning of the twentieth century. Later on, in the nineteen sixties, as obesity started to be a medical issue on a large scale, water fasting to treat morbid obesity and co-morbidities emerged under the names of zero calorie diet or total fasting. The effects of this type of fasting, lasting weeks or months, particularly on obesity, have been extensively documented. Nowadays a revival of the interest for fasting emerges from a different perspective. Instead of focussing only on weight loss in morbid obesity, the new focus is on the effects of the main fasting regimens, that activate the metabolic switch from liver derived glucose to adipose cell-derived ketones (G-to-K) and its reversal K-to-G, on longevity, health span expansion, multi-stress resistance and antioxidant defence stimulation, improved performance and cellular regeneration in animal models and humans. The present review investigates, in animal models and humans, how application of several types of fasting strategies, for example intermittent fasting, periodic fasting, or long-term fasting could be part of a new medical approach leading to improved healthy life span and cognition, as well as to a decrement in cardiovascular risk in both obese and non-obese subjects. 2. Fasting classification. Fasting is defined as the voluntary abstinence or strong limitation of caloric ingestion for a limited period of time, triggering the G-to-K switch and major changes in the activity of signalling pathways. Further effects also take place on refeeding when the K-to-G switch occurs. The big challenge when it comes to classify fasting regimens is that duration has a very different meaning if we consider animals, such as nonobese mice, or humans. One day fasting brings the mouse almost to starvation, ketones decrease and protein catabolism increases, whereas a day in humans is considered as intermittent fasting. Table 1 summarizes the main forms of fasting and other restrictive diets. Calorie restriction (CR) refers to a daily reduction by 15 to 40 percent of calorie intake without malnutrition. Intermittent fasting (IF) refers to fasting lengths between 16 and 48 hours, alternated with usual food intake. The most frequently studied IF procedure is alternate day fasting, ADF, whereby normal food intake occurs on one day and restricted food the next day. Time restricted eating-feeding, TRE-TRF, is characterised by intake of food occurring within a time window of 8 to 12 hours per day or less. Periodic fasting (PF) describes cycles of fasting or calorie restricted diets, meaning 5 to 2 diet (5 to 2), referring to two days per week, consecutive or not, in which food intake is drastically reduced to approximately 600 kcal. In some classifications 5 to 2 is considered as IF. Periods of fasting lasting from many days to weeks have sometimes been referred to as periodic and can be repeated every year. Other Authors referred to them as long-term or prolonged fasting. Considering that these adjectives do not take into consideration differences in the baseline nutritional status and between species, in the present review article we refer to long-term fasting (LF) as a food abstinence from 2 to 21 days or more during which no or minimal amounts of calories, up to 200 to 250 kcal per day are given within appropriate schedules. LF has been well documented in obese and non-obese subjects as well as in animals and during the nineteen sixties in morbidly obese subjects. Other regimens, derived from fasting strategies, are the very-low-calorie diets (VLCD), a hypocaloric formula diet providing 80 to 100 grams of proteins and an average of 1000 kcal per day, designed to treat obesity and to avoid a negative nitrogen balance. Furthermore, the fasting mimicking diet (FMD) is a hypocaloric (800 to 1100 kcal), low protein, ketogenic diet leading to weight loss and to some of the effects of fasting. It is worth mentioning that nutrient restricted normo caloric diets like the ketogenic diet (carbohydrate restriction) and the protein or amino acid (methionine) restricted diet are being also intensively evaluated. 3. Metabolic and cellular responses to fasting. 3 point 1. The metabolic switch. The onset of fasting is characterised by the metabolic switch, that defines the fuel switch occurring when an organism commutes from the eating mode, including generally around 50percent carbohydrates, to the fasting mode. From 12 to 16 hours after interrupting food absorption, glucose levels drop, followed by a decrease of insulin levels and at the same time of circulating amino acid levels. The onset of the metabolic switch depends on the liver glycogen content at the beginning of the fast as well as on the composition of the preceding meal, energy expenditure, and physical activity. Lipids in adipocytes (triacylglycerol and diacylglycerol) are metabolised to free fatty acids (FFAs) whose levels increase in fasting blood, to be partly oxidised in most tissues, such as muscles, kidneys, heart and partly transformed in the liver to ketones (b-hydroxybutyrate, acetoacetate and acetone). Ketones are not only fuels, since they have also signalling effects and regulate expression and activity of transcription factors like the peroxisome proliferator activated receptor c coactivator 1a (PGC-1a), sirtuins (SIRTs), poly-adenosine diphosphate ADP-ribose polymerase 1 (PARP1), and ADP ribosyl cyclase, as well as fibroblast growth factor 21 and nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide, NAD plus. A rise of brain derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF) in the central nervous system (CNS) can enhance brain health. Ketones are effectively oxidised by the fasting brain, more reluctant than other tissues to renounce glucose and metabolise FFA’s. The use of FFA’s and ketones as energy sources reduces the respiratory exchange ratio (RER), compared with the fed state, indicating a greater metabolic efficiency of energy production during weight loss leading to ketosis. The decreased ATP to AMP ratio will activate AMP-activated protein kinase (AMPK) as well as create a mild oxidative eustress leading to the activation of antioxidant and cytoprotective enzymes, meaning superoxide dismutase, catalase, peroxidase, sulfiredoxin 1, thioredoxin reductase 1, haem oxygenase-1, NAD(P)H quinone oxidoreductase 1, glutamate-cysteine ligase, glutathione S-transferases, and uridine 50-diphosphoglucuronosyltransferases. During prolonged periods of fasting, ketosis has been shown to reach a plateau after 4 days, an effect that can last for several hours or days, and to decrease when food is reintroduced, see Figure 1. The G-to-K switch is the key mechanism allowing to spare proteins by reducing protein utilisation, as reflected by the changes in nitrogen balance. It is regulated by inhibition of the m-TOR, mechanistic-mammalian target of Rapamycin, signalling pathway, thus decreasing protein synthesis and enhancing autophagy, that leads to the recycling of endogenous proteins. Relying on ketones for energy during weight loss has the advantage of promoting retention of lean mass; the same may not occur after plain CR. This conclusion was not supported in the most extensive ADF studies to date. At present, the substantial benefit of fasting regimens on lean mass retention needs to be reconsidered. While the adaptation to long-term fasting can promote lean mass retention, this has not been definitely shown to occur preferentially after IF rather than with CR. It should be noted that ketosis can be also obtained with low energy and-or high fat diets. Normocaloric strict high fat ketogenic diets are successfully prescribed to epileptic children who do not respond to drug treatments. Switching from a carbohydrate to a lipid rich diet has been successfully applied for weight reduction, although, based on current evidence, low-CHO and very-low-CHO diets do not appear to be clearly superior to other dietary approaches. Ketones serve as an energy source, being metabolised to acetyl coenzyme A (AcCoA) entering the tricarboxylic acid cycle generating adenosine triphosphate (ATP). They sustain the function of muscle and brain cells during fasting as well as extended periods of physical exertion. Furthermore, ketosis leads to a fully compensated acidosis, believed to be responsible for the characteristic absence of hunger during fasting. Absence of hunger enhances compliance. Blood glucose stabilises at the lower normal level and will remain stable during the whole fasting period, as long as fat reserves can fuel metabolism and the protein pool remains at the physiological limits. Concomitantly, in a well-orchestrated manner, an increase in the hormonal secretion of glucagon, stimulation of glycogenolysis and gluconeogenesis, growth hormone, implicated in lipolysis, cortisol and adrenaline regulate the course of fasting. Furthermore, along with a decrement in the adipokine leptin and a rise in adiponectin, fasting significantly reduces insulin like-growth factor, IGF-1. Only restrictions of 50 percent or more of normal daily energy requirements can reduce IGF-1 levels. Low levels of IGF-1 reduce the intracellular mitogenic signaling pathways, and lead mammalian cells to enter either a non-dividing or a low-dividing state and invest energy resources into cellular protection against various insults (multi-stress resistance). Since during fasting very few or no exogenous proteins or sugars enter the system, nutrient dependent signalling pathways are shut down, m-TOR and Rasadenylate cyclase (AC)-protein kinase A (PKA), along with the de-repression of transcription factors for example SIRT, and forkhead box O1 (FOXO1), leading to the many peculiar features of the fasting mode. The promotion of the multi-stress resistance is characterized by improved antioxidant defences, increased DNA repair and diminished inflammation. Moreover, most cardiovascular risk factors, waist circumference, lipids, blood pressure and insulin resistance, are improved by CR, IF or LF. The fasting mode will be reversed as soon as a mixed diet is reintroduced, triggering the K-to-G switch: glucose and insulin levels increase, ketones drop, m-TOR is reactivated leading to increased protein synthesis and mitochondrial biogenesis, as well as decreased autophagy. Cell regeneration in multiple systems occurs, with increased mesenchymal and progenitor cells. In this refeeding phase, specific effects take place concomitant to cell growth and plasticity, leading to functional tissue remodelling and offering a unique opportunity, in adult life, to boost cellular and tissue regeneration. In some cases, an inappropriate pattern of food reintroduction can lead to relapse of symptoms, as seen in the case of LF prescription to treat polyarthritis. 3.2. Signalling pathways modulated by fasting. In the fasting mode, cellular and metabolic processes are controlled by a complex network of transcriptional regulators. Major regulators are SIRTs, nuclear factor erythroid 2 related factor 2 (NRF2), FOXO1, nuclear factor ‘kappa-light-chain-enhancer’ of activated b-cells (NFkB), hypoxia inducible factor 1 a (HIF-1a), heat shock factor (HSF-1). The decrease of the protein responsive signalling pathway m-TOR and of its downstream effector, the ribosomal protein S6 kinase b-1, leads to global protein synthesis inhibition and recycling of macromolecules by autophagy stimulation. In the brain, in addition to raised neuronal stress resistance through bolstered mitochondrial function there is an improvement in antioxidant defences, DNA repair, and stimulation of BDNF production. BDNF regulates hippocampal neurogenesis, dendrite morphology and synapse plasticity, and increases production of new neurons from neural stem cells. The decrease in glucose levels in parallel to the rise in ketones during fasting is associated with a decrement in the glucose responsive Ras-AC-PKA pathway, implicated in life span extension. Other crucial consequences of fasting are the decrease in insulin-IGF-1 signalling, leading to a reduction in anabolic processes and decrement in the ATP to AMP ratio with consequent activation of AMPK. This last step triggers repair and inhibition of the anabolic processes, Figure 2. Another mechanism associated to the fasting-induced activation of AMPK is autophagy of muscle cells, a process preserving blood glucose levels during LF. As a proof-of-concept, the selective skeletal muscle depletion of AMPK resulted in hypoglycaemia and hyperketosis, an effect not due to an impairment in fatty acid oxidation, but instead to a reduction in autophagy of muscle cells, leading to reduced circulating levels of alanine, an essential amino acid required for gluconeogenesis. Among the many activated transcriptional regulators quoted above, hepatic SIRT1 protein levels are raised during fasting and reduced with refeeding. SIRT1-driven deacetylation of PGC-1a and the increased FOXO1 transcription factor provides a mechanism by which mitochondrial and lipid oxidation genes can be dynamically controlled in response to energy demand. A specific liver knock down of SIRT1 results in a decreased fasting-dependent downregulation of the lipogenic gene expression (SREBP-1c), suggesting this mechanism for the regulation by SIRT1 of multiple SREBP-1 target genes. SIRT1 suppresses glucose production by inhibiting the CREB regulated transcription coactivator 2 (CRTC2)-mediated gluconeogenesis, activated during the G-to-K switch. Similar to SIRT1, the mitochondrial deacetylase SIRT3 regulates metabolic homeostasis during fasting and CR. SIRT3 is critical for fatty acid oxidation and ketogenesis during fasting, by regulating the deacetylation state and the activity of mitochondrial enzymes involved in the metabolic switch. Having thus a major role in liver ketogenesis, mice lacking SIRT3 display lower plasma b-hydroxybutyrate levels during fasting. 4. Evidence from experimental animals. The life and health span extension produced by CR has been an area of interest since the late nineteen seventies. Compared to mice assigned to an ad libitum regimen, 30percent CR and TRF (single-meal feeding) enhanced longevity, regardless of diet composition and showed improvements in morbidity and mortality. Prevention of age-related declines, as evaluated by tests of motor coordination (rotarod) and learning (complex maze) took place in mice exposed to a 50 percent CR regimen. Increased locomotor activity in a runwheel cage, regardless of age was observed, without effects on exploratory activity in a novel arena. This type of functional improvement has been related to anatomical changes, such as a rise in synapse numbers and stimulation of mitochondrial biogenesis, correlated with increased BDNF levels. 3-hydroxybutyrate may also mediate adaptive responses of neurons to fasting, exercise and ketogenic diets. In mice, hippocampus dependent spatial learning and memory deficit improve upon a daily TRF with ameliorated behavioural changes, in particular anxiety-like behaviours. These improvements, found in old mice, may rely on the enhanced cerebral blood flow and blood-brain barrier function, similar to that seen in young mice at 5 to 6 months of age following CR. Relative to TRE, the study of mechanisms leading to changes in the molecular circadian clock genes, activated or deactivated according to light and diet, has opened new horizons. These circadian rhythms, displaying oscillations over a period of 24 hours, are evolutionarily conserved and driven by the need to synchronise biological activity with the ever-changing, but predictable, environment of the rotating Earth. In mammals, feeding behaviour is cyclic with periods of fasting separating feeding bouts, leading the organism to switch from nutrient storage during feeding periods to the use of stored nutrients during fasting. Studies on the effects of a disruption of metabolic circadian cycles, showed that under TRF, in which mice are fed an equivalent amount of food as the ad libitum cohort but for a defined period of 8 hours, mice were protected against obesity, hyperinsulinemia, hepatic steatosis, and inflammation. Compared to rats fed ad libitum, those exposed to ADF present lower resting heart rate and blood pressure (BP), this last remaining lower after exposure to immobilisation and swim stressors, and equal to or greater than that previously obtained with exercise training regimens in rats. Other Authors confirmed that TRF regimens, compared to prolonged ad libitum feeding are associated to an improved hemodynamic profile, meaning reduced heart rate and systolic and diastolic BP. TRF decreases the sympathetic autonomic nervous system activity and raises the parasympathetic or vagal tone. Another TRF regimen of 4 hour feeding per day in mice restored the expression of clock genes, leading to reduced body weight, cholesterolaemia, tumour necrosis factor-a and improved insulin sensitivity. These findings suggest that TRF can normalise the expression of genes involved in fatty acid metabolism, b-oxidation, PPARc and antioxidant defences in the liver. The correlation between clock genes and TRF has recently been documented by a study in mice lacking a circadian clock. When these are provided with access to high energy food ad libitum they gain weight quickly, but when subjected to a TRF regimen, 10 hours, they are protected from the weight gain and metabolic diseases driven by a high-energy diet. Prolonged ADF can upregulate the hemo-oxygenase1 and glucose-regulated protein 7B, both reduced by aging, in the cerebral cortex and striatum. These cytoprotective proteins against metabolic and oxidative stresses rise after ADF and appear to sustain expression, responsivity of genes involved in adaptive neuroplasticity and cognition. Similarly, in the case of animal models of neurologic disorders, including epilepsy, Alzheimer, Parkinson disease and stroke, application of an IF regimen, feeding for 8 hours per day, appears to protect against the neurological damage in ischaemic stroke, with circulating leptin as a possible mediator. Mice maintained on a chronic IF for 11 months exhibited a superior cognitive ability in the Barnes maze test of spatial memory. This type of positive response also occurred after a late-onset short-term IF dietary restriction for three months in old rats, animals fasted overnight. A better cognitive performance was also reported when mice were fed cycles of FMD lasting 4 days, followed by a standard ad libitum diet. Compared to control mice, FMD resulted in a rise in life span, meaning up to 28.3 versus 25.5 months. Bi-monthly application of this dietary approach reduced visceral fat, cancer incidence and skin lesions, rejuvenated the immune system, and retarded bone mineral density loss; when applied later in life, there was improved cognitive performance. 5. Therapeutic fasting: clinical impact in contemporary medicine. Modulating diet and meal frequency as well as several patterns of fasting can represent a new paradigm in today’s medical approaches. As recently highlighted by de Cabo and Mattson, Homo sapiens has adapted to fasting in ways that enable the organism to tolerate or overcome challenges and then restore homeostasis. An increasing number of physiological effects linked to IF can be applied also to LF, at least in the initial phase, leading to: (1) weight loss and metabolic reset, (2) increased insulin sensitivity, (3) reduction in inflammation and oxidative damage to proteins, lipids and DNA, as well as: (4) enhanced immune system function. All these mechanisms are definitely of value in the management of obese as well as nonobese subjects. 5 point 1. LF, a general overview. Whereas the metabolic switch and the changes in signaling pathways above described also apply at the beginning of LF, the question is whether these effects persist, decrease or increase in the course of LF. Evidently, it will depend on the duration of fasting, the individual profile including age, nutritional and health status, as well as personal inclination for the procedure. One of the first detailed scientific observations of a non-obese voluntary subject on total fasting ended safely after 31 days. Other case reports of persons fasting during several weeks were published and brought stupefaction in the medical community and the public. Many Authors have stressed the well-being, the absence of hunger and lifted mood reported by fasting obese and non-obese subjects. The human capacity to live without energy intake for periods of almost 40 days has been often reported in non-obese subjects during hunger strikes. A medically supervised practice of LF has a long tradition in Europe and in particular in Germany. The safety of this programme has been recently documented in large cohort studies. This type of LF, generally lasting from 4 to 21 days, has been studied in various clinical conditions: chronic inflammatory disorders and rheumatoid arthritis, hypertension, irritable bowel syndrome, insulin resistance, type 2 diabetes and metabolic syndrome, fibromyalgia, breast and ovarian cancer, osteoarthritis, obesity, and fatty liver. Furthermore, MRI evaluation documented significant changes in body composition after 14 days of fasting. LF was first documented in morbidly obese subjects in numerous publications from 1959 to 1975, reporting fasting periods from several days up to 249 or, in an extreme case report, to 382 days, called “zero calorie diets” or “total fasting,” sometimes with administration of multi-vitamins and potassium supplements. The main concern at that time was to elucidate how humans could fast that long, having a limited possibility to break down their protein pool and at the same time the need to provide their CNS with energy: the daily calorie needs of the brain in the eating phases are 400 to 570 kcal delivered by 100 to 145 grams glucose. If these needs have to be met by gluconeogenesis, since fatty acids cannot be transformed into glucose, this would mean catabolizing 200 grams of proteins daily. Since the human protein body pool is roughly 6000 to 8000 grams and cannot drop more than a third, this would reduce the ability to fast for long periods. In fasting subjects, after depletion of the glycogen stores, a rapid decrease in carbohydrate oxidation and protein catabolism takes place. Measurement of urinary nitrogen excretion allowed to determine protein utilisation. Whereas at the beginning of fasting 35 grams of nitrogen were excreted per day, these values tended to fall to 2 to 4 grams per day, 12 to 25 grams protein per day after 4 weeks. The brain was increasingly fed with ketone bodies, especially b-hydroxybutyrate, keeping it alert in order to stay able to face challenges. The protein sparing mechanism is induced by the metabolic switch of G-to-K, as described by Longo and Mattson decades later. Cahill demonstrated the fuel change occurring in the brain after 38 to 41 days of fasting. The brain system metabolises only 30 percent of glucose supplied by the glycerol molecule, liberated after cleavage of three fatty acids from triglycerides by lipoprotein lipase. Altogether, during total fasting, up to 41 days, 86 grams per 24 hour glucose is produced: half of this comes from blood cells, producing lactate and pyruvate through glycolysis, then resynthesized to glucose in the liver. The other half comes from glycerol and gluconeogenesis, taking place first in the liver and then in the kidneys from amino acids, respectively alanine and glutamine. This shift produces ammonium to titrate ketone bodies. Three phases have been described in the course of LF in animals, such as the Emperor penguin, that undergo yearly, during 35 years (average life span) fasting periods lasting several weeks until exhaustion of energy reserves. An initial phase 1, when the metabolic switch occurs, is followed by a phase of protein sparing called phase 2, lasting several days to weeks. Phase 3 finally starts when fat and protein reserves have reached a threshold, forcing animals to refeed. Phase 3 is characterised by a high catabolic activity, as well as adrenergic stimulation and underlines the urgent need to replenish energy stores. Nevertheless, the process is fully reversible. In humans these three phases seem to exist in a similar way. Under physiological condition of therapeutic fasting, phase 3 is not reached. Phase 3 has been described in anorexia. The zero-calorie diet, where only non-caloric beverages are permitted, was relatively well tolerated for several weeks or even months, even though obese persons were often without exercise, psychological support or nutritional education to prevent relapses. Pioneers of this type of fasting to treat obesity made even the recommendation, surprising for our contemporaries, that obese subjects should not fast longer than 100 days without nitrogen balance monitoring. The publication of a single case of death caused by acute intractable heart arrest happened on the seventh refeeding day in a 20-year-old woman. She had been on a 30 week zero calorie diet, reducing her weight from 118 to 60 kilograms. By simple calculation this would mean a protein utilisation of 4000 grams, meaning more than 50percent of her protein pool, this being the most plausible death aetiology. At autopsy a decrease of myofibril diameter in the heart with gross fragmentation was diagnosed. Isolated cases of death by very prolonged zero calorie diet periods of several weeks or months in morbidly obese had not always such a clear aetiology; other possible causes of death include factors such as potassium or vitamin deficiencies, imperfect patient selection or compliance, associated medications or pre-existing disease. For several years, zero calorie diets were followed by a medical team in hospital wards. Despite the polymorbidity of the patients, the procedure seemed to be safe for periods of 60 to 100 days. Because of the long duration, the costs for hospitalisation were considered as too elevated and, as a consequence, people started total fasting on their own. Furthermore, obese subjects could also buy protein supplemented diet formulas in supermarkets, without any supervision. One of these products consisting of a liquid based hydrolysate of collagen proteins, the so called “liquid protein diet” (LPD) was linked to deaths from cardiac arrest in 32 out of 44 casualties. Again, the histological diagnosis was myofibrillar gross fragmentation but, unlike the first documented case, the subjects were still obese. The poor protein quality of LPD might have played an accelerating role in protein pool depletion or else in depletion of specific amino acids. After these events, the depletion of the protein pool was incriminated and this led to a strict regulation of what has been called VLCD (very low calorie diet), a hypocaloric formula providing 80 to 100 grams good quality protein per day. The main objective was to avoid a negative nitrogen balance measured by 24 hours urinary excretion. VLCD were prescribed to last not more than 6 weeks. By reflection, this reduction of the fasting period alone could have sufficed to reduce risk drastically. Protein formulas provided a market allowing to design ambulatory multidisciplinary programmes. The need to provide proteins was not questioned any more until today. 5 point 1 point 1. Impact of LF on health and well-being. The practice of LF has reached a wide network of utilization in Europe. Among 1422 subjects who followed fasting periods, daily calorie intake of 200 to 250 kcal accompanied by a multidisciplinary lifestyle programme, lasting between 4 and 21 days, there were significant reductions in body weight, between 3.2 plus or minus 0.0 kilograms after 5 and 8.6 plus or minus 0.3 kilograms after 20 days of fasting, as well as in abdominal circumference, meaning between 4.6 plus or minus 0.1 cm and 8.8 plus or minus 0.8 cm, respectively. BP decreased for the whole group from 131.6 plus or minus 0.7 to 120.7 plus or minus 0.4 for systolic BP and from 83.7 plus or minus 0.4 to 77.9 plus or minus 0.3 for diastolic BP. A reduction of total cholesterol, -0.4 plus or minus 0.0 mmol per Liter, triglycerides, -0.4 plus or minus 0.0 mmol per Liter, glucose, -0.7 plus or minus 0.1 mmol per Liter, and HbA1c, -1.2 plus or minus 0.1 mmol per mol, was reported. The absence of hunger feeling, documented in 93.2 percent of the subjects and an increase of emotional and physical well-being was documented. None of the subjects dropped out of the fasting procedure. Adverse effects, for example cardiac arrhythmia, were reported in less than 1percent and mild symptoms like headache and fatigue occurred rarely and mainly in the first days. In another study on 174 hypertensive patients, who underwent a water-only fasting programme, approximately 10 days, 90percent of the subjects achieved a reduction of BP to below 140 per 90 millimeters of Mercury. An improved fatty liver index (FLI), a surrogate marker of non-alcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), has been recently described after LF in subjects with and without type 2 diabetes. In a series of 697 subjects, out of whom 264 had a baseline FLI greater than 60 (threshold for fatty liver), a LF of 8.5 plus or minus 4.0 days was carried out, providing 250 kcal per day and large quantities of water. FLI decreased in the whole cohort significantly, -14.02 plus or minus 11.67), the largest benefit being noted in diabetics, -19.15 plus or minus 11.0. BMI decreased by 1.51 plus or minus 0.82 kilograms per square meter, 50 percent of the subjects losing more than 5percent body weight. Improvement of FLI was significantly correlated with the number of fasting days and with the magnitude of BMI reduction. 5 point 1 point 2. LF and microbiota. The contribution of gut microbiota to human diseases is being intensively studied, such as in the case of inflammatory bowel disease, gastric ulcers, NAFLD, obesity, metabolic syndrome as well as associated neurologic disorders. This has led to a detailed evaluation of dietary changes since gut microbiota relies, almost entirely, on host diet composition and food processing capacity, to obtain the metabolic substrates needed to cover its energy requirements, 150 to 450 kcal per day, 628 to 1883 kJ per day. Thus, it seems inevitable that periods of fasting may have an impact on gut microbiota. Ten days of fasting in 15 healthy men led to a decrease in abundance of Lachnospiraceae and Ruminococcaceae, as shown by faecal 16S rRNA gene amplicon sequencing, with a concomitant rise in Bacteroidetes and Proteobacteria (Escherichia coli and Bilophila wadsworthia). These changes were associated with an increase in faecal branched-chain amino acids (BCAA) by 18percent, possibly coming from host-derived compounds such as desquamated cells attacked by the microbiota. The effects were reversed three months after fasting. In obese women on a VLCD (800 kcal per day) for 4 weeks major consistent changes in dominant faecal bacterial communities were reported. A potential benefit of microbiomal changes after fasting is the amelioration of the altered gut microbiome in relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis. Since CR has a clear anti-inflammatory potential and chronic CR has been shown to attenuate autoimmune encephalomyelitis, therapeutic fasting may be of value in the management of CNS autoimmunity. At present, experimental data have shown raised gut bacterial richness after IF, with enhanced anti-oxidative microbial metabolic pathways. In the same report the Authors describe similar microbiomal changes following IF in a series of MS patients. There are at present only plans to test PF. A controlled clinical trial on LF is ongoing in metabolic syndrome, as well as on IF in relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis. 5 point 2. Impact of CR and IF on cardiometabolic risk factors in non-obese and obese subjects. The CALERIE, Comprehensive Assessment of the Long-Term Effects of Reducing Intake of Energy, study, enrolled participants with BMI between 22 and 28 kilograms per square meter, proposing a 25percent CR throughout a 2 year period with a control group staying on their current diet. CR significantly improved general health and mood. Weight, body fat, fat mass, and fat free mass as well as cardiometabolic risk factors, meaning lipids, BP, C-reactive protein, and insulin sensitivity index were significantly reduced compared to controls. Concerning obese subjects, the TEMPO, Type of Energy Manipulation for Promoting Optimum Metabolic Health and Body Composition in Obesity, trial compared the long-term impact of a 25 to 35percent CR during 12 months versus a 65 to 75 percent CR during 4 months followed by 8 months of a more moderate energy restriction. Both interventions had a prescribed protein intake of 1.0 gram per kilogram of baseline body weight per day. Among the 101 recruited postmenopausal women, those on the 65 to 75 percent CR lost more abdominal subcutaneous and visceral adipose tissue, but they also lost more whole body and thigh muscle lean mass, proportional to the total weight loss. Moreover, participants allocated to the severe group lost more total hip mineral density. Overall, although these changes were not related to differences in muscle strength, prudence should be exerted as in any manipulation of food intake in men or postmenopausal women with sarcopenia or osteoporosis. Relative to the ADF approach, this was proven to be acceptable and effective (weight loss being 2.5percent and fat mass 4percent) in non-obese subjects who underwent fasting every other day for 22 days. Most recently, following a similar approach, Stekovic et al investigated the direct effects of ADF during 4 weeks in a series of normal weight individuals, leading to an average 37 percent reduction of the daily calorie intake. Improved sense of well-being and improvement of cardiovascular risk markers, in particular triglycerides and LDL-cholesterol, with reduced trunk fat, fat-to-lean ratio and of the inflammatory marker soluble inter-cellular adhesion molecule-1 (sICAM) were detected. An increase of b-hydroxybutyrate occurred even in non-fasting days. Interestingly, the pro-aging amino acid methionine was periodically depleted. Another study compared the effects of CR versus ADF enrolling 100 participants. These were randomised to adhere for 1 year, 6-month intervention followed by 6-month weight maintenance, to one of the following regimens: (1) ADF (25 percent of energy needs on fasting days and 125 percent on alternating feast days), and (2) 75 percent CR. Compared to the control group, no differences between interventions were found either in weight loss, 6.0 percent versus 5.3percent, respectively or in systolic and diastolic BPs, heart rate, triglycerides, fasting glucose, C-reactive protein. Overall, the Authors concluded that ADF is not superior to a CR approach and leads to a higher rate of dropouts, meaning 38 percent (13 out of 34) versus 29 percent (10 out of 35), respectively. It should be recalled that, as elsewhere reviewed, IF generally results in significant reductions in body weight and fat mass, the magnitude of weight losses being quite large 5.0 kilograms, except in trials less than 8 weeks in duration. In obese individuals, BMI 30 kilograms per square meter, Catenacci and colleagues compared ADF with CR during an 8 week-intervention. Neither weight loss nor body composition, lipids and insulin sensitivity differed between groups. After 24 weeks of unsupervised follow up aimed at assessing weight regain, there were no significant differences but changes in percent fat mass and lean mass were more favourable in the ADF group. Patients exercising more during the follow-up had a better weight maintenance, an often documented observation. As above described, IF regimens have been shown to reduce global fat mass and visceral fat, both linked to a reduced risk of diabetes development and thus of cardiovascular outcomes. In overweight or obese patients with type 2 diabetes, 12 weeks of the 5 to 2 diet, 400 to 600 Kcal per two days per week, did not differ from continuous energy restriction, 1200 to 1400 kcal per day, in reducing glycated haemoglobin (0.7 percent). The 5 to 2 group showed an increased tendency to hypoglycaemia despite medication reduction. Application of ADF in obese subjects for 10 weeks reduced total cholesterol, LDL-cholesterol and triglycerides with a switch towards a rise of LDL size by 5percent and a reduction of small LDL by 9percent. A similar lipid improvement was found in obese patients following a modified protocol of ADF with an overall 25 percent reduction of energy needs. Furthermore, a decrement in systolic BP as well as in C-reactive protein were also found. In overweight women, daily energy restriction (600 to 650 kcal per day for 2 days per week, versus intermittent energy and carbohydrate restriction was superior in improving body fat reduction and insulin sensitivity. Finally, in a very recent trial, enrolling 19 metabolic syndrome patients, application of TRE, meaning a reduction of daily eating window from 14 hours to a self-selected 10 hour window over 12 weeks, led to healthier body composition, lowered BP, and decreased levels of cardiovascular risk associated lipids. Moreover, TRE led to a modest, but not significant increase in sleep duration with no impact on sleep efficiency and a trend towards a reduction in physical activity. Conclusions. While clinical studies on fasting have generally show positive effects on health and possibly on life span, documenting benefits and challenges of long-term fasting still needs further studies. The question whether repeated cycles of fasting, as it happens spontaneously in animals, can enhance benefits, is still awaiting a definite answer. After having been rated, in the nineteen sixties, as a successful strategy to treat obesity and comorbidities, additional benefits of fasting other than weight loss have been uncovered. Among others are improvements in glucose regulation, BP and heart rate, as well as abdominal fat loss. The key point in the clinical approach of fasting will be dependent upon acceptance and compliance, as well as on safety. These issues are linked to the emotional and physical well-being, the absence of hunger and the presence of professional guidance. TRE and IF can well fit in everyday life and may be possibly adopted as a lifelong eating behaviour. Long-term fasting, in fact, requires specialised settings, possibly away from the usual environment. An emerging aspect, in the planning of the fasting strategy, is the after-fast period, when food is reintroduced. When the fasting process is reversed, symptom relapses can occur in the absence of specific nutritional guidelines. This may partially reduce the numerous health benefits of fasting. The individual limits of this procedure need to be carefully analysed and, similar to any manipulation of food intake, prudence is necessary, particularly in older subjects and in the case of low BMI, sarcopenia or eating disorders. Figure 1. Metabolic switch from carbohydrates to fatty acids and ketones induced by 10 days of fasting, daily energy intake of about 250 kcal and multidisciplinary programme. A regression spline was fitted on individual acetoacetic values to show the variations in ketosis during the course of the study. T: transition to the fasting mode; RF: progressive reintroduction of food. Figure 2. Representation of signalling pathways modulated fasting. The reduced levels of circulating amino acids and of IGF-1 consequent to fasting repress the activity of m-TOR and its downstream effector leading to an inhibition of global protein synthesis and promote recycling of macromolecules by autophagy stimulation. There is a rise in the AMP-to-ATP ratio leading to the activation of AMPK. SIRT1-driven deacetylation of PGC-1a and FOXO1 transcription factors provides a mechanism by which mitochondrial and lipid oxidation genes can be dynamically controlled in response to energy demand. AMPK: AMP-activated protein kinase; FOXO1: forkhead box O1; IGF: insulin-like growth factor; NAD plus : nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide; PGC-1a: peroxisome proliferator activated receptor c coactivator 1a; m-TOR: mammalian target of Rapamycin; SIRT: sirtuin.

Rahan. Episode Sixty. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Andre Cheret. The Childhood Secret of Rahan. In these wild times when "Those-who-walk-upright" fought fiercely to ensure the survival of the species, one clan lived happily. Because its territory was full of game and its leader the fairest, the wisest of hunters. This clan was that of the blue mountain and this chief was called Crao. This morning, Crao and his people were raising their traps. When. Look Crao! A couple unknown to the clan, along with three “Saber-tooth” tigers were lying in the clearing. The bloody axes that the man and woman still clutched proved that their fight with the wild beasts had been terrible. We will never know where they came from! Page Two. This hunter and his companion fought until their last breath. May they be buried with the respect due to the braves. Weak cries rose from a nearby crevice. It is a “Rah”. Crying! Crao understands why the hunters confronted the "Goraks"! The child they discovered must have been born in the green leaf season. Your mother and father sacrificed themselves for you, “little man”! Come! But they will continue to live in you, “Little man”! “Those of the Blue Mountain” will make you a hunter worthy of them! And since we don't know the name they gave you, we'll call you "Rah-Hank", "the son of the brave"! Page Three. The child was entrusted to Shawa the Elder, Crao's own mother. Shawa was gentle and the guttural name bothered her. Ra-hank. Ra-hank is a name for "Four-Hands", yes? Shawa prefers to call you "Ra-han" and why not "Rahan"? Her age was respected. This name that she suggested was adopted by everyone. The season of yellow leaves was followed by the season without leaves, hunting became more difficult and more dangerous. Crao and his family always came back, exhausted but happy. These meats will feed the clan until the new moon! How is our little Rahan, mother? He spoke! The first words Rahan spoke were Crao, Shawa. And his own name he stammered "Rahaa." Ha-ha-ha! You are becoming a man, my son! Page Four. Because Rahan, for everyone, was now Crao's son, a son. And he was proud to see him trotting between the huts. He is already curious about everything. He will resemble you Crao. And the round of seasons continued. Ten times that of “Green Leaves” returned, with its gentle warmth. Where is Rahan Mother? He is challenging the others, as usual! On the run this time! My strength is failing me, Crao. You will soon have to take care of our Rahan alone! Do not talk like that, mother! For his ten springs, Rahan already demonstrated astonishing physical qualities. No other child outdistanced him in the race. Ra-ha! Rahan won! No one was more agile than him in jumping. No one climbed more nimbly in the trees. Ha-ha-ha! Page Five. But he also knew how to listen to the wise advice of Crao who knew a thousand things. The agile and strong hunter is not yet a hunter, Rahan! When he shows himself, he only becomes more cunning than the beasts he tracks! When he can, patiently and tenaciously stay on the lookout for days and nights! Crao also spoke, and remembered very well, all about men. All “Those-Who-Walk-Upright” are from the same horde! The same horde! The strong must support the weakest! All hunters are brothers, whether their hair is the color of night or whether it is, like yours, the color of fire! Crao also spoke of the distant territories that the clan had once crossed. He described the terrible clashes with the herds of “Two-teeth.” Page Six. One day he revealed the secret of the necklace he never took off. These claws were bequeathed to Crao by his father who himself received them from his father. Each symbolizes the best of what “Those-who-walk-upright” have in them. Courageousness. Loyalty. Generosity. Tenacity. Wisdom. And Rahan-the-turbulent, Rahan-the-intrepid listened, listened. Crao knows you will not be a hunter like the others, Rahan. You will be the most skillful, the most cunning, the bravest. But you will never forget that you are only a man, a brother of all men! One day, it was very sad. Shawa the old, Shawa the sweet, Had fallen asleep forever. Goodbye, mother. We will meet again in the “Territory-of-shadows”! Page Seven. Rahan mourned for a long time the one who had shown him so much tenderness. Rahan knew that Shawa was not his mother. Why does Rahan not have a mother like the others? You had one, Rahan. And a father too. Both were young and beautiful. But they were killed by "Goraks" a long time ago, while protecting your life, the life they gave you! And Crao replaced mine! Rahan loves you as he would have loved them, Crao! But when he grows up he will kill all the "Goraks"! This revenge soon began. One evening, in fact, two saber-toothed tigers came roaming around the outskirts of the village. Page Eight. Four hunters come with Crao! The others will protect the women! The men armed themselves with spears. And, for the first time, Rahan disobeyed Crao. No one saw him, light and supple, slipping through the thickets. He was the first to discover the big beasts lurking in the clearing. Crao had told him about the ferocity of these monsters, but he overcame his fear. Get up, “Goraks”! Rahan has come to kill you! The wild animals gathered themselves together to pounce. And the two spears flew away, almost at the same time. One to avenge my mother! The other to avenge my father! Page Nine. The astonishment petrified the hunters who came running. The felines, their sides pierced, were dying in the grass. Rahan was disobedient and was too bold! But I think that from now on he will be able to accompany us hunting! Crao hid his pride poorly. Alas, Rahan never accompanied him hunting! That night, the bowels of the earth suddenly began to rumble. And the blue mountain, until that day so peaceful, seemed to burst. It was a terrible night, one that Rahan would never forget! The blue mountain threw rocks towards the sky, vomiting a frightening torrent of fire which, in an instant, submerged everything! Page Ten. Huddled under a flat rock, Rahan experienced the horrible nightmare. All the huts were burning and collapsing. Men, women and children surrounded on all sides were bogged down in the molten lava. It was the night of terror. When the anger of the cursed mountain ceased, the village had disappeared! Crao! Crao! Where are you Crao! Oh! Crushed under a huge rock, Crao had only a moment to live. Approach, Ra-han, Approach. My son. You are. The only survivor. Of the Clan. This necklace is yours! Be. Always worthy of what it represents! Page Eleven. Rahan swears to it! You will join Shawa the sweet, but you will remain alive in the heart of Rahan. Rahan will always be the son of Crao! A final glint of pride passed through the eyes of Crao. And then he gave up his spirit. Rahan will never forget your advice father! At the age of twelve, Rahan found himself alone in a wild world about which he still knew nothing. He fled the cursed valley where all his family had perished. From then on, he lived like a beast, feeding on the fruits of the jungle, hiding in caves as soon as darkness fell. All the weapons had been swallowed up by the torrent of fire, and he had to face many dangers with a simple bamboo. Page Twelve. He learned to kill to survive. And his desire to live was so fierce that one day, attacked by a "Long-mane" he slit the beast's throat with his teeth. Ra-ha-ha! That day his first cry of a victorious hunter erupted, a cry that would often resound in the forests and near the rivers. The rivers! For the son of Crao, who did not know how to swim, these "water paths" were impassable. He was walking along one of them one morning. When he discovered two spears buried in the ground! Oh! Rahan will finally have weapons! He grabbed these spears when clamors arose. He saw two men crawling on the water. He was confused. “Fire Hair” is stealing our spears! Page thirteen. Other hunters appeared from the bushes, threateningly. He brandished one of the spears. And the words of Crao came back to his mind. We do not kill "Those Who Walk Upright"! He lowered the spear. Rahan did not know. He did not want to steal, he thought the spears were forgotten there! Your tongue is made for lying! Maybe the river clan will cut it off! And Rahan was taken towards a village. The leader of the clan was a brutal being. Cutting a quarter of meat, he barely raised his head. So you wanted to steal the spears! No! Crao taught Rahan never to steal! If Rahan had seen “Those who crawled on the water” he would not have touched their spears! Page Fourteen. You lie! I will cut out your tongue myself at daybreak! The chief brandished a knife, like Rahan had never seen before. The weapon smooth and polished like the tusk of a “Two teeth” shone in the sunset light. Its strong blade seems to be able to cut through anything! Alone in a hut Rahan thought for a long time about this marvelous knife. Even the stones that throw stars that Crao cut so well were not so formidable! Rahan would like to own this knife! Before his tongue is cut out! The captive's youth undoubtedly tranquilized the man responsible for his surveillance, because it did not take long for him to doze off. Page Fifteen. He rushed into the darkness as the hunters emerged from the huts. A few axes flew and arrows whizzed around him. They will quickly lose track of Rahan! Since the terrible night, the forest had become his domain. Rahan will have to be as wary of “Those-who-walk-upright” as he is wary of wild animals! Other seasons passed. Fascinated by the marvelous fruit of fire suspended in the sky, Rahan dreamed of discovering the “Endless River”. Or, according to Crao, where the sun god took refuge every night. And every day he discovered new horizons. But the sun seemed to be fleeing him! Page Sixteen. He sometimes saw villages at the bottom of the valleys that he cautiously avoided. How far was the happy time of sweet Shawa, of his carefree childhood. Rahan lives like a savage beast! Rahan betrays the memory of Crao! But, one night, his destiny would return to its true course. That night he thought he heard Crao, returning from the “Territory of Shadows.” You are not loyal to the claw necklace Rahan! How will you demonstrate loyalty, generosity, and wisdom. If you avoid “Those-who-walk-upright”!? The clans are as numerous as the leaves on a tree, but you have to know them! Go to them, my son! Go to the men! Page Seventeen. Put your courage and your cunning at the service of men! Fight against mysteries to awaken the minds of men! Tear from nature its secrets to deliver them to men! It will be so, father! And that night, in front of a ghost that existed only in his thoughts, with one hand on his necklace and the other on his ivory knife, Rahan swore that such would be his destiny! Dawn found him again in the kingdom of the "Four Hands" which he had seen fifteen times since that morning when the Blue Mountain clan had discovered him. Ra-ha-ha! His cry frightened the birds and annoyed the young monkeys. But the son of Crao did not care. Happy and confident, he set off to discover “Those-who-walk-upright.” Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

Rahan. The son of the fierce ages. Episode Fifty Nine. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Guy Zam. The King Tree. If there are so many hunters it is because they are going to track down a “Two-tooth”! The long line of hunters could be seen on the crest of the hill. It was about to disappear towards the other side, when a noise alerted the son of Crao. A man, not far from him, was quickly descending from a tree. He too saw the hunters, but why was he happy? Rahan could have signaled his presence but intrigued, he preferred to discreetly follow this “lookout.” He seems to be eager to report to his own what he saw! Page Two. Indeed, a little later. And the clan of “The King Tree” was heading towards the valley of the two teeth! All the able-bodied hunters were there! Zarook has been waiting for this moment for a long time! Tomorrow at dawn we will seize the “King Tree”! The son of Crao could not understand the enthusiasm of these men. And we too will soon be able to go hunting without fearing for our women and children! Get ready brothers! Who do they want to fight? Rahan wants to know! Attending to checking their spears and their bows, the hunters did not see him crawling towards an isolated hut. And he surprised one of them! Do not scream! Rahan will not take your life if you explain your clan's plans to him! Do not, do not squeeze! Koam Will Speak. Page Three. The man spoke. He said how and why always, his clan and that of the forest fought over a fantastic tree. But tomorrow the king tree will be ours. Zarook is very cowardly to take advantage of the hunters' absence to attack their women and children! Rahan will warn these women of the danger! The son of Crao slipped out of the hut when Koam raised the alarm. Alert! Alert! An enemy has slipped into the camp! The nearest hunters saw him and drew their bows. But Rahan had lightning reflexes. The panel of woven leaves intended for the roof of a hut found a completely different use! Stak! Stak! Page Four. The men did not have time to grab new arrows. He was already rushing into the forest, jumping on a branch. They will not pursue Rahan into the Kingdom of the "Four Hands"! For a long, very long time, he flew from tree to tree, in the direction that Koam had indicated to him. He was finally going to allow himself a moment of rest when cries of fear rose near him. Why are these little infants afraid? Rahan means them no harm! Two panicked children were fleeing on the enormous branch. As agile as young monkeys, they dived towards a vine. Page Five. And disappeared into the foliage. What were the little men doing in this tree?! Would Rahan be on the king tree? Rahan's supposition was quickly confirmed. The branches on which he walked all belonged to the same tree! A tree that alone constituted a veritable forest! A tree whose main branches were so big that ten men could have sat on them! It is incredible! Rahan wants to see this tree from the ground! The vine he let himself slide down was bigger than his wrist! As he descended, his astonishment grew. What he saw was unimaginable! And yet. Rahan does not dream! He is under "The King Tree." Page Six. A group of fifty hunters holding their hands could not have circumnavigated the gigantic trunk! The roof of this fantastic tree stretched over a distance of several arrow ranges! Yes, the “King Tree” was indeed a forest within the forest! Everything in this tree was beyond measure. The roots like crevasses in the bark. A crack at the base of the trunk was wide enough to accommodate several men! The son of Crao was approaching it when stones of all sizes fell around him! Page Seven. In a few leaps he was in the crack where a new surprise awaited him. This part of the trunk was hollow. Rough steps had been cut in it! Although rudimentary, this “Staircase” was easy to climb. Rahan quickly climbed towards the daylight. But, then appeared ten hands, that grabbed his arms and his hair and forcefully pulled him from the trunk! Zarook will regret sending you to spy on us! The son of Crao managed as best he could to free himself, but he suddenly slipped on the branch! Ah! He instinctively grabbed a knot but he was too far from the ground to risk the jump. He was at the mercy of these women! Page Eight. These, shortly after, dragged him into the tangle of branches. Groups of children, here and there, observed the captive with curiosity. Those who walk upright are wrong! Rahan is not part of the Zarook clan. Oh! The huts of a village rose on the branches of the king tree! A woman and two men stood in front of the largest. Those are the ones in charge when our hunters are gone! They will decide your fate! An instant later. I am Rahan, the son of Crao! Rahan is not an enemy! He came to warn you that the Zarook clan will attack at daybreak! We have never seen you before! How do I know if you're telling the truth!? Page Nine. If the fiery-haired man's intentions are good, let him prove it! Let him go to the spring and bring us some water! We will keep his necklace and his cutlass! Do you accept “Fire Hair”? Rahan accepts! Tell him where to find the source! An instant later. This test is very easy! Rahan hopes that it will earn him the trust of those of the "king tree"! The son of Crao had to go quite far into the forest before discovering the source. He was filling the bamboo container when a small growl arose behind him. A young puma was rolling in the grass. No. Rahan does not want to play with you! Go away! Page Ten. Ooh! You are going to bring down Rahan! Go away! Go away! But the young feline was happy because he was playing. He clung to Rahan’s steps, trotting between his legs Rahan was aware of the danger. The mother of this puma, undoubtedly looking for her little one, could appear at any moment! Worried, he quickened his pace. Which had the effect of further amusing the annoying little creature! But the “king tree” finally appeared. He was hanging the container on a vine when he smelled the scent of the big beast. But he was already too late! Without his knife, Rahan could not face it. He did not have time to run to the crack in the trunk. And the mother puma jumped towards him! Page Eleven. As the container of water rose towards the branches, he grabbed another vine and he also felt himself being pulled towards the foliage! The man having escaped from him, the mother puma returned to her den, not without punishing her little one's escape with a few paws! However. Rahan could have fled, but he came back. He has proven his loyalty to us! He is definitely our brother! Why do you live in the King Tree? Our mothers' mothers already lived here! Look around you and you will understand! The “King Tree" is for us a safe refuge from the dangers of the jungle! The son of Crao observed with emotion these women and these children, these mutilated men and these tired old men. Page Twelve. When the men of the clan go hunting, you wait for them to return to the king tree. Yes, we bring back enough food to last for several days. We also make a reserve of stones there, in anticipation of an attack. Because we know that, as always, Zarook has been intent upon seizing the "king tree"! We offered to share our refuge with the women and elders of Zarook’s clan, when his people go hunting! But Zarook will not accept! He wants to be the sole master of the “king tree.” And at dawn, he will launch his hunters against you! What can your stones do against their arrows!? But Rahan will not abandon you! We will repel these cowards! The decision of the son of Crao had been made. He would fight alongside these children, these women, these shapeless people! Page thirteen. Throughout the night, the defense of the "King Tree" was organized. The reserve of projectiles was distributed on carefully chosen forks. Remembering the way he had avoided the arrows of Zarook's hunters, he had shields of vines woven. Here we will pile up stones and dead branches. Even the old people, and the crippled, were doing their best. They were still busy when the lights of day pierced the foliage. Listen! Zarook and his people arrive! Hear their war song! Convinced that they would easily win the fight, Zarook's men were not looking to surprise. Their singing ceased when they emerged into the vast clearing. Page Fourteen. Zarook means you no harm! Abandon the tree-king and flee this territory! The “King Tree” belongs to our clan! Not yet, Zarook! To seize The King Tree, you will have to chase us away! You want this, women! We will remove you from up there! Enraged, Zarook led a group of men towards the crack of the gigantic trunk. But barely had he rushed in when his spear was brutally torn from him! Rahan would have liked to avoid the fight. But he sees that it is impossible! The son of Crao displayed such energy that he was able to push these hunters out of the trunk. Ra-ha-ha! Page Fifteen. But others, despite the rain of stones, were already approaching! Rahan will not stop this pack! We must do what we planned! As he quickly climbed the steps, a group of men rushed behind! Attention women! Prepare yourselves! Hurry! Fast! The dead branches gathered for this purpose were thrown inside the trunk. In a few moments the tangle was such that the staircase became impassable to the attackers. This failure defused the anger of Zarook. We will climb the “Tree-King” by the vines! Our arrows will make these stone throwers flee! Page Sixteen. Shortly after, the arrows flew towards the women and children lying in wait on the branches. But the shields that were braided during the night effectively protected them! We will soon have no more stones, Rahan! The shield was unknown to the hunters of Zarook, who were surprised to miss their targets. It was the man with “fire hair” who taught them to stop the arrows! The son of Crao smiled when, in small groups, the attackers gripped the ropes. No matter, they do not have any more stones! To the Vines! Brothers! To the Vines! He waited until they were far from the ground to act. The ivory blade attacked the first vine. Page Seventeen. A moment later, he jumped from one branch to another, cutting the fibers of all the vines on which the men were climbing. And, while the children were still alive, the attackers fell in clusters! Many remained lifeless on the ground. And others suggested giving up the fight. They are not afraid of fighting us and we cannot get up there either by the trunk or by the vines. Their leader, shouting, ran under the “King Tree.” Show yourself “Fire-hair”! Zarook challenges you! Zarook will send you to the land of shadows! Rahan is here, Zarook! Zarook, surprised, only had time to raise his head. Page Eighteen. At the same time offering his jaw to the son of Crao! Rahan could easily steal your life. But it is not up to him to decide your fate! Rahan had grabbed Zarook's belt. What? What are you doing? And both rose towards the foliage! Stunned, and afraid of hitting their leader, the hunters did not dare release their arrows. If you squirm, Rahan will let you go! Did you not dream of climbing this tree? The women, helped by the children, joyfully hoisted the two men up. Everyone quickly regained their gravity. Yours have failed, Zarook! And you are at our mercy! See those you wanted to drive out of the “King Tree”, those you would have delivered to the dangers of the jungle! Page Nineteen. These dangers also threaten the children, women, and old men of my clan. Zarook spoke of his people with great emotion. If a leader has a duty to protect the weak and elders of his clan, he must never do so to the detriment of another clan! The trio consulted. Since this pointless fight caused no casualties, we will spare Zarook! Let him return to his village and meditate on his failure! Zarook behaved like a coward. He does not deserve your pity! This is not pity, but wisdom! Peace must return between you! The "King Tree" is a blessing of nature that your clans should not fight over, but share! It would then become a wonderful refuge for all the weak in this forest! Page Twenty. The son of Crao spoke for a long time, he knew how to find the words that went to the heart of "Those-who-walk-upright." “Fire-hair” is right. My brothers will no longer attempt to seize the King Tree! And when they leave for a long hunt, they will entrust him with their wives and children! In these fierce times, it sometimes took little to awaken the good feelings that lay dormant in every man. Zarook will keep his promise! What are you doing, “Fire-hair”? Rahan knew that The “King Tree” would no longer be a source of discord. Nothing was keeping him here anymore. Rahan will leave you. But he will never forget your courage, little ones! At nightfall, the son of Crao reached the hills. One last time he contemplated the ocean of greenery from which the fantastic tree emerged and set off towards other landscapes, to meet other men. Because this was his destiny. Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

Daedalus, or science and the future. A paper read to the heretics, Cambridge on February fourth, 1923. By J B S Haldane. Introduction. I have slightly expanded certain parts of this paper since reading it. It has therefore probably lost any unity which it may once have possessed. It will be criticized for its undue and unpleasant emphasis on certain topics. This is necessary if people are to be induced to think about them, and it is the whole business of a university teacher to induce people to think. Daedalus, or science and the future. As I sit down to write these pages I can see before me two scenes from my experience of the late war. The first is a glimpse of a forgotten battle of 1915. It has a curious suggestion of a rather bad cinema film. Through a blur of dust and fumes there appear, quite suddenly, great black and yellow masses of smoke which seem to be tearing up the surface of the earth and disintegrating the works of man with an almost visible hatred. These form the chief parts of the picture, but somewhere in the middle distance one can see a few irrelevant looking human figures, and soon there are fewer. It is hard to believe that these are the protagonists in the battle. One would rather choose those huge substantive oily black masses which are so much more conspicuous, and suppose that the men are in reality their servants, and playing an inglorious, subordinate, and fatal part in the combat. It is possible, after all, that this view is correct. Had I been privileged to watch a battle three years later, the general aspect would have been very similar, but there would have been fewer men and more shell-bursts. There would probably, however, have been one very significant addition. The men would have been running, with mad terror in their eyes, from gigantic steel slugs, which were deliberately, relentlessly, and successfully pursuing them. The other picture is of three Europeans in India looking at a great new star in the Milky Way. These were apparently all of the guests at a large dance who were interested in such matters. Amongst those who were at all competent to form views as to the origin of this cosmoclastic explosion, the most popular theory attributed it to a collision between two stars, or a star and a nebula. There seem, however, to be at least two possible alternatives to this hypothesis. Perhaps it was the last judgment of some inhabited world, perhaps a too successful experiment in induced radio-activity on the part of some of the dwellers there. And perhaps also these two hypotheses are identical, and what we were watching that evening was the detonation of a world on which too many men came out to look at the stars when they should have been dancing. These two scenes suggest, very briefly, a part of the case against science. Has mankind released from the womb of matter a Demogorgon which is already beginning to turn against him, and may at any moment hurl him into the bottomless void? Or is Samuel Butler’s even more horrible vision correct, in which man becomes a mere parasite of machinery, an appendage to the reproductive system of huge and complicated engines which will successively usurp his activities, and end by ousting him from the mastery of this planet ? Is the machine-minder engaged on repetition-work the goal and ideal to which humanity is tending? Perhaps a survey of the present trend of science may throw some light on these questions. But first we may consider for a moment the question whether there is any hope of stopping the progress of scientific research. It is after all a very recent form of human activity, and a sufficiently universal protest of mankind would be able to arrest it even now. In the middle ages public opinion made it so dangerous as to be practically impossible, and I am inclined to suspect that Mister Chesterton, for example, would not be averse to a repetition of this state of things. The late M Joseph Reinach, an able and not wholly illiberal thinker, publicly advocated it. I think, however, that, so long as our present economic and national systems continue, scientific research has little to fear. Capitalism, though it may not always give the scientific worker a living wage, will always protect him, as being one of the geese which produce golden eggs for its table. And competitive nationalism, even if war is wholly or largely prevented, will hardly forego the national advantages accruing from scientific research. If we look at the other most probable alternative the prospect is little more hopeful. In this country the Labour Party alone among political organizations includes the fostering of research in its official programme. Indeed, as far as biological research is concerned, labour may prove a better master than capitalism, and there can be little doubt that it would be equally friendly to physical and chemical research if these came to lead immediately to shortened hours rather than to unemployment. In particular there is perhaps reason to think that that form of sentimentalism which hampers medical research in this country by legislation would be less likely to flourish in a robust and selfish Labour Party of the Australian type than in parties whose members enjoy the leisure which seems necessary to the development of such emotional luxuries. It is of course possible that civilization may collapse throughout the world as it has done in parts of Russia, and science with it; but such an event would, in all probability, only postpone the problem for a few thousand years. And even in Russia we must not forget that first-rate scientific research is still being carried on. The possibility has been suggested, I do not know how seriously, that the progress of science may cease through lack of new problems for investigation. Mister Chesterton in The Napoleon of Notting Hill, a book written fifteen years or so ago, prophesied that hansom-cabs would still be in existence a hundred years hence owing to a cessation of invention. Within six years there was a hansom cab in a museum, and now that romantic but tardy vehicle is a memory like the trireme the velocipede, and the 1907 Voisin biplane. I do not suggest that Mister Chesterton be dragged, a heavier Hector, behind the last hansom cab, but I do contend that, in so far as he claims to be a prophet rather than the voice of one crying in the wilderness, he may be regarded as negligible for the purpose of our discussion. I shall try shortly to show how far from complete are any branches of science at the present time. But first a word on Mister H G Wells might not be out of place. The very mention of the future suggests him. There are two points which I wish to make about Mister Wells. In the first place, considered as a serious prophet, as opposed to a fantastic romancer, he is singularly modest. In 1902, for example, in a book called Anticipations the gave it as his personal opinion that by 1950 there would be heavier than air flying machines capable of practical use in war. That, said he, was his own view, though he was well aware that it would excite considerable ridicule. I propose in this paper to make no prophecies rasher than the above. The second and more important point is that he is a generation behind the time. When his scientific ideas were formed, flying and radiotelegraphy for example, were scientific problems, and the centre of scientific interest still lay in physics and chemistry. Now these are commercial problems, and I believe that the centre of scientific interest lies in biology. A generation hence it may be elsewhere, and the views expressed in this paper will appear as modest, conservative, and unimaginative as do many of those of Mister Wells to-day. I will touch only very briefly on the future of physics, as the subject is inevitably technical. At present physical theory is in a state of profound suspense. This is primarily due to Einstein, the greatest Jew since Jesus. I have no doubt that Einstein’s name will still be remembered and revered when Lloyd George, Foch, and William Hohenzollern share with Charlie Chaplin that ineluctable oblivion which awaits the uncreative mind. I trust that I may be excused if I trespass from the strict subject of my theme to add my quota to the rather numerous mis-statements of Einstein’s views which have appeared during the last few years, Ever since the time of Berkeley it has been customary for the majority of metaphysicians to proclaim the ideality of Time, of Space, or of both. But they soon made it clear that, in spite of this, time would continue to wait for no man, and space to separate lovers. The only practical consequence that they generally drew was that their own ethical and political views were somehow inherent in the structure of the universe. The experimental proof or disproof of such deductions is difficult, and, if the late war may be regarded as an experimental disproof of certain of Hegel's political tenets, costly and unsatisfactory. Einstein, so far from deducing a new decalogue, has contented himself with deducing the consequences to space and time themselves of their ideality. These are mostly too small to be measurable, but some, such as the deflection of light by the sun’s gravitational field, are susceptible of verification, and have been verified. The majority of scientific men are now being constrained by the evidence of these experiments to adopt a very extreme form of Kantian idealism. The Kantian Ding-an-sich is an eternal four dimensional manifold, which we perceive as space and time, but what we regard as space and what as time is more or less fortuitous. It is perhaps interesting to speculate on the practical consequences of Einstein’s discovery. I do not doubt that he will be believed. A prophet who can give signs in the heavens is always believed. No one ever seriously questioned Newton’s theory after the return of Halley’s comet. Einstein has told us that space, time, and matter are shadows of the fifth dimension, and the heavens have declared his glory. In consequence Kantian idealism will become the basal working hypothesis of the physicist and finally of all educated men, just as materialism did after Newton's day. We may not call ourselves materialists, but we do interpret the activities of the moon, the Thames, influenza, and aeroplanes in terms of matter. Our ancestors did not, nor, in all probability, will our descendants. The materialism, whether conscious or sub-conscious does not very much matter, of the last few generations has led to various results of practical importance, such as sanitation, Marxian socialism and the right of an accused person to give evidence on his or her own behalf. The reign of Kantian idealism as the basal working hypothesis, first of physics, and then of every-day life, will in all probability last for some centuries. At the end of that time a similar step in advance will be taken. Einstein showed that experience cannot be interpreted in terms of space and time. This was a well-known fact, but so long as space and time did not break down in their own special sphere, that of explaining the facts of motion, physicists continued to believe in them, or at any rate, what was much more important, to think in terms of them for practical purposes. A time will however come, as I believe, when physiology will invade and destroy mathematical physics, as the latter have destroyed geometry. The basic metaphysical working hypothesis of science and practical life will then, I think, be something like Bergsonian activism. I do not for one moment suggest that this or any other metaphysical system has any claims whatever to finality. Meanwhile we are in for a few centuries during which many practical activities will probably be conducted on a basis, not of materialism, but of Kantian idealism. How will this affect our manners, morals, and politic? Frankly I do not know, though I think the effect will be as great as that of Newton’s work, which created most of the intellectual forces of the eighteenth century. The Condorcets, Benthams and Marxs of the future will I think be as ruthlessly critical of the metaphysics and ethics of their times as were their predecessors, but not quite so sure of their own, they will lack a certain heaviness of touch which we may note in Utilitarianism and Socialism. They will recognise that perhaps in ethics as in physics, there are so to speak fourth and fifth dimensions that show themselves by effects which, like the perturbations of the planet Mercury, are hard to detect even in one generation, but yet perhaps in the course of ages are quite as important as the three dimensional phenomena. If the quantum hypothesis is generally adopted, even more radical alterations in our thinking will be necessary. But I feel it premature even to suggest their direction in the present unsatisfactory state of quantum mechanics. It may be that as Poincare, the other Poincare, suggested we shall be forced to conceive of all change as occurring in a series of clicks, and all space as consisting of discrete points. However this may be it is safe to say that a better knowledge of the properties of radiation will permit us to produce it in a more satisfactory manner than is at present possible. Almost all our present sources of light are hot bodies, 95 percent of whose radiation is invisible. To light a lamp as a source of light is about as wasteful of energy as to burn down one’s house to roast one’s pork. It is a fairly safe prophecy that in 50 years light will cost about a fiftieth of its present price, and there will be no more night in our cities. The alternation of day and night is a check on the freedom of human activity which must go the way of other spatial and temporal checks. In the long run I think that all that applied physics can do for us is to abolish these checks. It enables us to possess more, travel more, and communicate more. I shall not attempt to predict in detail the future developments of transport and communication. They are only limited by the velocity of light. We are working towards a condition when any two persons on earth will be able to be completely present to one another in not more than one twenty fourth of a second. We shall never reach it, but that is the limit which we shall approach indefinitely. Developments in this direction are tending to bring mankind more and more together, to render life more and more complex, artificial, and rich in possibilities, to increase indefinitely man’s powers for good and evil. But there are two prerequisites for all progress of this kind, namely continuous supplies of human and mechanical power. As industries become more and more closely interwoven, so that a dislocation of any one will paralyse a dozen others, and that is the position towards which we are rapidly moving, the ideal of the leaders of industry, under no matter what economic system, will be directed less and less to the indefinite increase of production in the intervals between such dislocations, and more and more to stable and regular production, even at the cost of reduction of profits and output while the industry is proceeding normally. It is quite possible that capitalism itself may demand that the control of certain key industries be handed over completely to the workers in those industries, simply in order to reduce the number of sporadic strikes in them. And as industrial progress continues an ever larger number, perhaps the majority, of industries will become key industries. The solution may be entirely different, we may well see a return to feudalism. But the probability is that the problem will be solved. This view may seem optimistic, but it is more likely than the alternative thesis which may be briefly stated as follows: “No human society will ever succeed in producing a stable organisation in which the majority of the population is employed otherwise than in agriculture, animal-rearing, hunting or fishing.” It took some thousands of years to produce the stable agricultural society which forms the basis of European life and whose morals we are too apt to regard as eternal truths. It should take a shorter time to evolve a stable industrial society. The people that do so will inherit the earth. In sum, I believe that the progress of science will ultimately make industrial injustice as self-destructive as it is now making international injustice. As for the supplies of mechanical power, it is axiomatic that the exhaustion of our coal and oil-fields is a matter of centuries only. As it has often been assumed that their exhaustion would lead to the collapse of industrial civilization, I may perhaps be pardoned if I give some of the reasons which lead me to doubt this proposition. Water-power is not, I think, a probable substitute, on account of its small quantity, seasonal fluctuation, and sporadic distribution. It may perhaps, however, shift the centre of industrial gravity to well-watered mountainous tracts such as the Himalayan foothills, British Columbia, and Armenia. Ultimately we shall have to tap those intermittent but inexhaustible sources of power, the wind and the sunlight. The problem is simply one of storing their energy in a form as convenient as coal or petrol. If a windmill in one's back garden could produce a hundredweight of coal daily, and it can produce its equivalent in energy, our coalmines would shut down tomorrow. Even to-morrow a cheap, foolproof, and durable storage battery may be invented, which will enable us to transform the intermittent energy of the wind into continuous electric power. Personally, I think that four hundred years hence the power question in England may be solved somewhat as follows: The country will be covered with rows of metallic windmills working electric motors which in their turn supply current at a very high voltage to great electric mains. At suitable distances, there will be great power stations where during windy weather the surplus power will be used for the electrolytic decomposition of water into oxygen and hydrogen. These gases will be liquefied, and stored in vats vacuum jacketed reservoirs, probably sunk in the ground. If these reservoirs are sufficiently large, the loss of liquid due to leakage inwards of heat will not be great; thus the proportion evaporating daily from a reservoir 100 yards square by 60 feet deep would not be one, one thousandth of that lost from a tank measuring two feet each way. In times of calm, the gases will be recombined in explosion motors working dynamos which produce electrical energy once more, or more probably in oxidation cells. Liquid hydrogen is weight for weight the most efficient known method of storing energy, as it gives about three times as much heat per pound as petrol. On the other hand it is very light, and bulk for bulk has only one-third of the efficiency of petrol. This will not, however, detract from its use in aeroplanes, where weight is more important than bulk. These huge reservoirs of liquefied gases will enable wind energy to be stored, so that it can be expended for industry, transportation, heating, and lighting, as desired. The initial costs will be very considerable, but the running expenses less than those of our present system. Among its more obvious advantages will be the fact that energy will be as cheap in one part of the country as another, so that industry will be greatly decentralized; and that no smoke or ash will be produced. It is on some such lines as these, I think, that the problem will be solved. It is essentially a practical problem, and the exhaustion of our coalfields will furnish the necessary stimulus for its solution. Even now perhaps Italy might achieve economic independence by the expenditure of a few million pounds upon research on the lines indicated. I may add in parenthesis that, on thermodynamical grounds which I can hardly summarize shortly, I do not much believe in the commercial possibility of induced radio-activity. Before I turn to the principal part of my subject I should like to consider very briefly the influence on art and literature of our gradual conquest of space and time. I think that the blame for the decay of certain arts rests primarily on the defective education of the artists. An artist must understand his subject matter. At present not a single competent poet and very few painters and etchers outside the Glasgow School understand industrial life, and I believe that there is only one architect of any real originality who understands the possibilities of ferro-concrete. I do not know his name, but he produced in Soissons before the war a market-place with the dignity and daring of an ancient Egyptian temple. If I knew that he had been entrusted with the rebuilding of Soissons, I could not regret its destruction. Now if we want poets to interpret physical science as Milton and Shelley did, Shelley and Keats were the last English poets who were at all up-to-date in their chemical knowledge, we must see that our possible poets are instructed, as their masters were, in science and economics. I am absolutely convinced that science is vastly more stimulating to the imagination than are the classics, but the products of this stimulus do not normally see the light because scientific men as a class are devoid of any perception of literary form. When they can express themselves we get a Butler or a Norman Douglas. Not until our poets are once more drawn from the educated classes, I speak as a scientist, will they appeal to the average man by showing him the beauty in his own life as Homer and Virgil appealed to the street urchins who scrawled their verses on the walls of Pompeii. And if we must educate our poets and artists in science, we must educate our masters, labour and capital, in art. Personally I believe that we may have good hopes of both. The capitalist’s idea of art in industry at present tends to limit itself to painting green and white stripes on the front of his factories in certain cases. This is a primitive type of decoration, but it has, I think, the root of the matter in it. Before long someone may discover that frescoes inside a factory increase the average efficiency of the worker 1.03 percent and art will become a commercial proposition once more. Even now it is being discovered that artistic advertising often pays. Similarly I do not doubt that labour will come to find that it cannot live by bread, or shall we say bread and beer, alone. But it can hardly be expected to make this discovery until it is assured of its supply of bread and beer. Applied chemistry has introduced into human life no radical novelty of the importance of the heat-engine or the telegraph. It has vastly increased the production of various types of substance the most important being metals. But there were explosives, dyes, and drugs before chemistry was a science, and its progress along present lines will mainly alter life in a quantitative manner. Perhaps the biggest problems before it in metallurgy are the utilization of low-grade iron ores, and the production of aluminium from clay, which contains up to 24 percent of that metal. I do not think that even when this is accomplished aluminium will oust iron and steel as they ousted bronze and flint, but it and its alloys will certainly take the second, and possibly the first place as industrial metals. There is just a hope, though I fear little more, that a large-scale production of perfume may form the basis of a re-education of our rather rudimentary sense of smell, but the most interesting possibilities of chemical invention are very clearly in biological chemistry, and for the following reasons. Desirable substances fall on the whole into two classes. The first are desirable on account of their physical or chemical properties, for example iron, wood or glass, which we use as a part of systems such as fires, houses, or razors, which procure us certain benefits. The second are desirable on account of their physiological properties. Such substances include foods, drinks, tobacco, and drugs. Colours and scents occupy an intermediate position. The value of this second class of substances rests on a quite special relationship to the human organism which depends in the most intimate way on the constitution of the latter, and has not in general been at all fully explained in terms of physics and chemistry. For example fires can be made of coal or peat instead of wood, but no other chemical substance has the same effect as water or alcohol. So unless a chemical substance has new physiological properties its production will merely serve to improve or make possible some appliance whose use lies within the sphere of applied physics. Within historical time two and only two substances of the second class have come into universal use in Europe, namely caffeine and nicotine, which were introduced into this country in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. There are others of immense importance, such as chloroform and quinine, but their use is not universal. But coffee, tea, and tobacco, with alcohol, are as much a part of normal life as food and water. There is no reason to suppose that the list of such substances is exhausted. During the war Embden the professor of physiology in Frankfurt University discovered that a dose of about 7 grams of acid sodium phosphate increases a man’s capacity for prolonged muscular work by about 20 percent, and probably aids in prolonged mental work. It can be taken over very lengthy periods. A group of coal-miners took it for nine months on end with very great effect on their output. It has no after-effects like those of alcohol, and one cannot take a serious overdose as it merely acts as a purgative. They gave certain Stosstruppen too much! Thousands of people in Germany take it habitually. It is possible that it may become as normal a beverage as coffee or tea. It costs one and nine per pound, or one third of a penny per dose. The vast majority of chemical substances with physiological properties are unsuited for daily use like castor oil, or dangerous like morphine; probably none are without bad effects in certain cases. Those which are susceptible of daily use are of the utmost social importance. Tobacco has slight but definite effects on the character. Coffee-houses in London in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and cafes in modern Europe were and are civilizing influences of incalculable value. But these substances are profoundly obnoxious to a certain type of mind. It would perhaps be fantastic to suggest that Sir Walter Raleigh owed his death in part to his sovereign’s objection to tobacco. But if he is not its proto-martyr it is at least probable that more men have died for tobacco smoking at the hands of Sikhs, Senussis, and Wahabis, whose religions forbid this practice, than died under the Roman empire for professing Christianity. Should it ever be generally realised that temperance is a mean we may expect that mankind will ultimately have at its disposal a vast array of substances like wine, coffee, and tobacco, whose intelligent use can add to the amenity of life and promote the expression of man’s higher faculties. But before that day comes chemistry will be applied to the production of a still more important group of physiologically active substances, namely foods. The facts about food are rather curious. Everyone knows that food is ultimately produced by plants, though we may get it at second or third hand if we eat animals or their products. But the average plant turns most of its sugar not into starch which is digestible, but into cellulose which is not, but forms its woody skeleton. The hoofed animals have dealt with this problem in their own way, by turning their bellies into vast hives of bacteria that attack cellulose, and on whose by-products they live. We have got to do the same, but outside our bodies. It may be done on chemical lines. Irvine has obtained a 95 percent yield of sugar from cellulose, but at a prohibitive cost. Or we may use micro-organisms, but in any case within the next century sugar and starch will be about as cheap as sawdust. Many of our foodstuffs, including the proteins, we shall probably build up from simpler sources such as coal and atmospheric nitrogen. I should be inclined to allow 120 years, but not much more, before a completely satisfactory diet can be produced in this way on a commercial scale. This will mean that agriculture will become a luxury, and that mankind will be completely urbanized. Personally I do not regret the probable disappearance of the agricultural labourer in favour of the factory worker, who seems to me a higher type of person from most points of view. Human progress in historical time has been the progress of cities dragging a reluctant countryside in their wake. Synthetic food will substitute the flower garden and the factory for the dunghill and the slaughterhouse, and make the city at last self-sufficient. There's many a strong farmer whose heart would break in two If he could see the townland that we are riding to. Boughs have their fruit and blossom at all times of the year, Rivers are running over with red beer and brown beer, An old man plays the bagpipes in a golden and silver wood, Queens, their eyes blue like the ice, are dancing in a crowd. I should have liked had time allowed to have added my quota to the speculations which have been made with regard to inter-planetary communication. Whether this is possible I can form no conjecture; that it will be attempted I have no doubt whatever. With regard to the application of biology to human life, the average prophet appears to content himself with considerable if rather rudimentary progress in medicine and surgery, some improvements in domestic plants and animals, and possibly the introduction of a little eugenics. The eugenic official, a compound, it would appear, of the policeman, the priest and the procurer, is to hale us off at suitable intervals to the local temple of Venus Genetrix with a partner chosen, one gathers, by something of the nature of a glorified medical board. To this prophecy I should reply that it proceeds from a type of mind as lacking in originality as in knowledge of human nature. Marriage “by numbers”, so to speak, was a comparatively novel idea when proposed by Plato 2,300 years ago, but it has already actually been practised in various places, notably among the subjects of the Jesuits in Paraguay. It is moreover likely, as we shall see, that the ends proposed by the eugenist will be attained in a very different manner. But before we proceed to prophecy I should like to turn back to the past and examine very briefly the half dozen or so important biological inventions which have already been made. By a biological invention I mean the establishment of a new relationship between man and other animals or plants, or between different human beings, provided that such relationship is one which comes primarily under the domain of biology rather than physics, psychology or ethics. Of the biological inventions of the past, four were made before the dawn of history. I refer to the domestication of animals, the domestication of plants, the domestication of fungi for the production of alcohol, and to a fourth invention, which I believe was of more ultimate and far-reaching importance than any of these, since it altered the path of sexual selection, focussed the attention of man as a lover upon woman’s face and breasts, and changed our idea of beauty from the steatapygous Hottentot to the modern European, from the Venus of Brassempouy to the Venus of Milo. There are certain races which have not yet made this last invention. And in our own day two more have been made, namely bactericide and the artificial control of conception. The first point that we may notice about these inventions is that they have all had a profound emotional and ethical effect. Of the four earlier there is not one which has not formed the basis of a religion. I do not know what strange god will have the hardihood to adopt Charles Bradlaugh and Annie Besant in the place of Triptolemus and Noah, but one may remark that it is impossible to keep religion out of any discussion of the practices which they popularized. The second point is perhaps harder to express. The chemical or physical inventor is always a Prometheus. There is no great invention, from fire to flying, which has not been hailed as an insult to some god. But if even physical and chemical invention is a blasphemy, every biological invention is a perversion. There is hardly one which, on first being brought to the notice of an observer from any nation which had not previously heard of their existence, would not appear to him as indecent and unnatural. Consider so simple and time-honoured a process as the milking of a cow. The milk which should have been an intimate and almost sacramental bond between mother and child is elicited by the deft fingers of a milkmaid, and drunk, cooked, or even allowed to rot into cheese. We have only to imagine ourselves as drinking any of its other secretions, in order to realise the radical indecency of our relation to the cow. The Hindus have recognized the special and physiological relation, of man to the cow by making the latter animal holy. A good Hindu would no more kill a cow than his foster-mother. But the holiness of the cow has unfortunately extended to all its products, and the extensive use of cowdung in Indian religious ceremonies is disgusting to the average European. The latter however, is insensitive to the equally loathsome injunctions of the Catholic Church with regard to human marriage. It would perhaps be better if both marriage and milking could be secularized. No less disgusting a priori is the process of corruption which yields our wine and beer. But in actual fact the processes of milking and of the making and drinking beer appear to us profoundly natural; they have even tended to develop a ritual of their own whose infraction nowadays has a certain air of impropriety. There is something slightly disgusting in the idea of milking a cow electrically or drinking beer out of tea-cups. And all this of course applies much more strongly to the sexual act. I fancy that the sentimental interest attaching to Prometheus has unduly distracted our attention from the far more interesting figure of Daedalus. It is with infinite relief that amidst a welter of heroes armed with gorgon's heads or protected by Stygian baptisms the student of Greek mythology comes across the first modern man. Beginning as a realistic sculptor (he was the first to produce statues whose feet were separated) it was natural that he should proceed to the construction of an image of Aphrodite whose limbs were activated by quicksilver. After this his interest inevitably turned to biological problems, and it is safe to say that posterity has never equalled his only recorded success in experimental genetics. Had the housing and feeding of the Minotaur been less expensive it is probable that Daedalus would have anticipated Mendel. But Minos held that a labyrinth and an annual provision of 50 youths and 50 virgins were excessive as an endowment for research, and in order to escape from his ruthless economies Daedalus was forced to invent the art of flying. Minos pursued him to Sicily and was slain there. Save for his valuable invention of glue, little else is known of Daedalus. But it is most significant that, although he was responsible for the death of Zeus’ son Minos he was neither smitten by a thunderbolt, chained to a rock, nor pursued by furies. Still less did any of the rather numerous visitors to Hades discover him either in Elysium or Tartarus. We can hardly imagine him as a member of the throng of shades who besieged Charon’s ferry like sheep at a gap. He was the first to demonstrate that the scientific worker is not concerned with gods. The unconscious mind of the early Greeks, who focussed in this amazing figure the dim traditions of Minoan science, was presumably aware of this fact. The most monstrous and unnatural action in all human legend was unpunished in this world or the next. Even the death of Icarus must have weighed lightly with a man who had already been banished from Athens for the murder of his nephew. But if he escaped the vengeance of the gods he has been exposed to the universal and age long reprobation of a humanity to whom biological inventions are abhorrent, with one very significant exception. Socrates was proud to claim him as an ancestor. The biological invention then tends to begin as a perversion and end as a ritual supported by unquestioned beliefs and prejudices. Even now surgical cleanliness is developing its rites and its dogmas, which, it may be remarked, are accepted most religiously by women. With the above facts in your minds I would ask you to excuse what at first sight might appear improbable or indecent in any speculations which appear below, and to dismiss from your minds the belief that biology will consist merely in physical and chemical discoveries as applied to men, animals and plants. I say advisedly “will consist”, for we are at present almost completely ignorant of biology, a fact which often escapes the notice of biologists, and renders them too presumptuous in their estimates of the present position of their science, too modest in their claims for its future. If for example we take a typical case of applied biology such as the detection and destruction of the cholera bacillus, we find a great deal of science involved, but the only purely biological principle is the very important but not very profound one that some bacteria kill some men. The really scientific parts of the process are the optical and chemical methods involved in the magnification, staining and killing of the bacilli. When on the other hand we come to immunization to typhoid we find certain purely biological principles involved which are neither simple nor at all completely understood. Actually biological theory consists of some ancient but not very easily stated truths about organisms in general, due largely to Aristotle, Hippocrates and Harvey, a few great principles such as those formulated by Darwin, Mayer, Claude Bernard, and Mendel, and a vast mass of facts about individual organisms and their parts which are still awaiting adequate generalization. Darwin’s results are beginning to be appreciated, with alarming effects on certain types of religion, those of Weismann and Mendel will be digested in the course of the present century, and are going to affect political and philosophical theories almost equally profoundly. I need hardly say that these latter results deal with the question of reproduction and heredity. We may expect, moreover, as time goes on, that a series of shocks of the type of Darwinism will be given to established opinions on all sorts of subjects. One cannot suggest in detail what these shocks will be, but since the opinions on which they will impinge are deep seated and irrational, they will come upon us and our descendants with the same air of presumption and indecency with which the view that we are descended from monkeys came to our grandfathers. But owing to man’s fortunate capacity for thinking in watertight, or rather idea-tight, compartments, they will probably not have immediate and disruptive effects upon society any more than Darwinism had. Far more profound will be the effect of the practical applications of biology. I believe that the progress of medicine has had almost, if not quite, as deep an effect on society in Western Europe as the industrial revolution. Apart from the important social consequences which have flowed from the partial substitution of the doctor for the priest, its net result has been that whereas four hundred years ago most people died in childhood, they now live on an average, apart from the late war, until forty-five. Bad as our urban conditions often are, there is not a slum in the country which has a third of the infantile death-rate of the royal family in the middle ages. Largely as a result of this religion has come to lay less and less stress on a good death, and more and more on a good life, and its whole outlook has gradually changed in consequence. Death has receded so far into the background of our normal thoughts that when we came into somewhat close contact with it during the war most of us failed completely to take it seriously. Similarly institutions which were based on short lives have almost wholly collapsed. For example the English land system postulated that the land-owner should die aged about forty, and be succeeded by his eldest son, aged about twenty. The son had spent most of his life on the estate, and had few interests outside it. He managed it at least as well as anyone else could have done. Nowadays the father dodders on till about eighty, and is generally incompetent for ten years before his death. His son succeeds him at the age of fifty or so, by which time he may be a fairly competent colonel or stockbroker, but cannot hope to learn the art of managing an estate. In consequence he either hands it over to an agent who is deprived of initiative and often corrupt, or runs it unscientifically, gets a low return, and ascribes to Bolshevism what he should really lay at the door of vaccination. But to return, if I may use the expression, to the future, I am going to suggest a few obvious developments which seem probable in the present state of biological science, without assuming any great new generalizations of the type of Darwinism. I have the very best precedents for introducing a myth at this point, so perhaps I may be excused if I reproduce some extracts from an essay on the influence of biology on history during the twentieth century which will, it is hoped, be read by a rather stupid undergraduate member of this university to his supervisor during his first term 150 years hence. “As early as the first decade of the twentieth century we find a conscious attempt at the application of biology to politics in the so-called eugenic movement. A number of earnest persons, having discovered the existence of biology, attempted to apply it in its then very crude condition to the production of a race of super-men, and in certain countries managed to carry a good deal of legislation. They appear to have managed to prevent the transmission of a good deal of syphilis, insanity, and the like, and they certainly succeeded in producing the most violent opposition and hatred amongst the classes whom they somewhat gratuitously regarded as undesirable parents. There was even a rebellion in Nebraska. However, they undoubtedly prepared public opinion for what was to come, and so far served a useful purpose. Far more important was the progress in medicine which practically abolished infectious diseases in those countries which were prepared to tolerate the requisite amount of state interference in private life, and finally, after the league’s ordinance of 1958, all over the world; though owing to Hindu opposition, parts of India were still quite unhealthy up to 1980 or so. But from a wider point of view the most important biological work in the first third of the century was in experimental zoology and botany. When we consider that in 1912 Morgan had located several Mendelian factors in the nucleus of Drosophila, and modified its sex-ratio, while Marmorek had taught a harmless bacillus to kill guinea-pigs, and finally in 1913 Brachet had grown rabbit embryos in serum for some days, it is remarkable how little the scientific workers of that time, and a fortiori the general public, seem to have foreseen the practical bearing of such results. As a matter of fact it was not until 1940 that Selkovski invented the purple alga Porphyrococcus fixator which was to have so great an effect on the world’s history. In the 50 years before this date the world’s average wheat yield per hectar had been approximately doubled, partly by the application of various chemical manures, but most of all by the results of systematic crossing work with different races; there was however little prospect of further advance on any of these lines. Porphyrococcus is an enormously efficient nitrogen-fixer and will grow in almost any climate where there are water and traces of potash and phosphates in the soil, obtaining its nitrogen from the air. It has about the effect in four days that a crop of vetches would have had in a year. It could not, of course have been produced in the course of nature, as its immediate ancestors would only grow in artificial media and could not have survived outside a laboratory. Wherever nitrogen was the principal limiting factor to plant growth it doubled the yield of wheat, and quadrupled the value of grass land for grazing purposes. The enormous fall in food prices and the ruin of purely agricultural states was of course one of the chief causes of the disastrous events of 1943 and 1944. The food glut was also greatly accentuated when in 1942 the Q strain of Porphyrococcus escaped into the sea and multiplied with enormous rapidity. Indeed for two months the surface of the tropical Atlantic set to a jelly, with disastrous results to the weather of Europe. When certain of the plankton organisms developed ferments capable of digesting it the increase of the fish population of the seas was so great as to make fish the universal good that it is now, and to render even England self-supporting in respect of food. So great was the prosperity in England that in that year the coal-miner’s union entered its first horse for the Derby, a horse-race which still took place annually at that time. It was of course as the result of its invasion by Porphyrococcus that the sea assumed the intense purple colour which seems so natural to us, but which so distressed the more aesthetically minded of our great grand-parents who witnessed the change. It is certainly curious to us to read of the sea as having been green or blue. I need not detail the work of Ferguson and Rahmatullah who in 1957 produced the lichen which has bound the drifting sand of the world's deserts, for it was merely a continuation of that of Selkovski, nor yet the story of how the agricultural countries dealt with their unemployment by huge socialistic windpower schemes. It was in 1951 that Dupont and Schwarz produced the first ectogenetic child. As early as 1901 Heape had transferred embryo rabbits from one female to another, in 1925 Haldane had grown embryonic rats in serum for ten days, but had failed to carry the process to its conclusion, and it was not till 1940 that Clark succeeded with the pig, using Kehlmann’s solution as medium. Dupont and Schwarz obtained a fresh ovary from a woman who was the victim of an aeroplane accident, and kept it living in their medium for five years. They obtained several eggs from it and fertilized them successfully, but the problem of the nutrition and support of the embryo was more difficult, and was only solved in the fourth year. Now that the technique is fully developed, we can take an ovary from a woman, and keep it growing in a suitable fluid for as long as twenty years, producing a fresh ovum each month, of which 90 percent can be fertilized, and the embryos grown successfully for nine months, and then brought out into the air. Schwarz never got such good results, but the news of his first success caused an unprecedented sensation throughout the entire world, for the birthrate was already less than the deathrate in most civilised countries. France was the first country to adopt ectogenesis officially, and by 1968 was producing 60,000 children annually by this method. In most countries the opposition was far stronger, and was intensified by the Papal Bull “Nunquam prius audito", and the similar fetwa of the Khalif, both of which appeared in 1960. As we know ectogenesis is now universal, and in this country less than 30 percent of children are now born of woman. The effect on human psychology and social life of the separation of sexual love and reproduction which was begun in the nineteenth century and completed in the twentieth is by no means wholly satisfactory. The old family life had certainly a good deal to commend it, and although nowadays we bring on lactation in women by injection of placentin as a routine, and thus conserve much of what was best in the former instinctive cycle, we must admit that in certain respects our great grandparents had the advantage of us. On the other hand it is generally admitted that the effects of selection have more than counterbalanced these evils. The small proportion of men and women who are selected as ancestors for the next generation are so undoubtedly superior to the average that the advance in each generation in any single respect, from the increased output of first-class music to the decreased convictions for theft, is very startling. Had it not been for ecto-genesis there can be little doubt that civilization would have collapsed within a measurable time owing to the greater fertility of the less desirable members of the population in almost all countries. It is perhaps fortunate that the process of becoming an ectogenetic mother of the next generation involves an operation which is somewhat unpleasant, though now no longer disfiguring or dangerous, and never physiologically injurious, and is therefore an honour but by no means a pleasure. Had this not been the case, it is perfectly possible that popular opposition would have proved too strong for the selectionist movement. As it was the opposition was very fierce, and characteristically enough this country only adopted its present rather stringent standard of selection a generation later than Germany, thought it is now perhaps more advanced than any other country in this respect. The advantages of thorough-going selection, have, however, proved to be enormous. The question of the ideal sex ratio is still a matter of violent discussion, but the modern reaction towards equality is certainly strong.” Our essayist would then perhaps go on to discuss some far more radical advances made about 1990, but I have only quoted his account of the earlier applications of biology. The second appears to me to be neither impossible nor improbable, but it has those features which we saw above to be characteristic of biological inventions. If reproduction is once completely separated from sexual love mankind will be free in an altogether new sense. At present the national character is changing slowly according to quite unknown laws. The problem of politics is to find institutions suitable to it. In the future perhaps it may be possible by selective breeding to change character as quickly as institutions. I can foresee the election placards of 300 years hence, if such quaint political methods survive, which is perhaps improbable, “Vote for Smith and more musicians”, “Vote for O’Leary and more girls ”, or perhaps finally “Vote for Macpherson and a prehensile tail for your great-grandchildren We can already alter animal species to an enormous extent, and it seems only a question of time before we shall be able to apply the same principles to our own. I suggest then that biology will probably be applied on lines roughly resembling the above. There are perhaps equally great possibilities in the way of the direct improvement of the individual, as we come to know more of the physiological obstacles to the development of different faculties. But at present we can only guess at the nature of these obstacles, and the line of attack suggested in the myth is the one which seems most obvious to a Darwinian. We already know however that many of our spiritual faculties can only be manifested if certain glands, notably the thyroid and sex-glands, are functioning properly, and that very minute changes in such glands affect the character greatly. As our knowledge of this subject increases we may be able, for exam to control our passions by some more direct method than fasting and flagellation, to stimulate our imagination by some reagent with less after-effects than alcohol, to deal with perverted instincts by physiology rather than prison. Conversely there will inevitably arise possibilities of new vices similar to but even more profound than those opened up by the pharmacological discoveries of the nineteenth century. The recent history of medicine is as follows. Until about 1870 medicine was largely founded on physiology, or, as the Scotch called it “Institutes of medicine”. Disease was looked at from the point of view of the patient, as injuries still are. Pasteur’s discovery of the nature of infectious disease transformed the whole outlook, and made it possible to abolish one group of diseases. But it also diverted scientific medicine from its former path, and it is probable that, were bacteria unknown, though many more people would die of sepsis and typhoid, we should be better able to cope with kidney disease and cancer. Certain diseases such as cancer are probably not due to specific organisms, whilst others such as phthisis are due to forms which are fairly harmless to the average person, but attack others for unknown reasons. We are not likely to deal with them effectually on Pasteur’s lines, we must divert our view from the micro-organism to the patient Where the doctor cannot deal with the former he can often keep the patient alive long enough to be able to do so himself. And here he has to rely largely on a knowledge of physiology. I do not say that a physiologist will discover how to prevent cancer. Pasteur started life as a crystallographer. But whoever does so is likely at least to make use of physiological data on a large scale. The abolition of disease will make death a physiological event like sleep. A generation that has lived together will die together. I suspect that man’s desire for a future life is largely due to two causes, a feeling that most lives are incomplete, and a desire to meet friends from whom we have parted prematurely. A gentle decline into the grave at the end of a completed life’s work will largely do away with the first, and our contemporaries will rarely leave us sorrowing for long. Old age is perhaps harder on women than on men. They live longer, but their life is too often marred by the sudden change which generally overtakes them between forty and fifty, and sometimes leaves them a prey to disease, though it may improve their health. This change seems to be due to a sudden failure of a definite chemical substance produced by the ovary. When we can isolate and synthesize this body we shall be able to prolong a woman’s youth, and allow her to age as gradually as the average man. Psychology’ is hardly a science yet. Like biology it has arrived at certain generalizations of a rather abstract and philosophic character, but these are still to some extent matters of controversy. And though a vast number of most important empirical facts are known, only a few great generalizations from them, such as the existence of the subconscious mind, have yet been made. But anyone who has seen even a single example of the power of hypnotism and suggestion must realise that the face of the world and the possibilities of existence will be totally altered when we can control their effects and standardize their application, as has been possible, for example, with drugs which were once regarded as equally magical. Infinitely greater, of course, would be the results of the opening up of systematic communication with spiritual beings in another world, which is claimed as a scientific possibility. Spiritualism is already Christianity's most formidable enemy, and we have no data which allows us to estimate the probable effect on man of a religion whose dogmas are a matter of experiment, .whose mysteries are prosaic as electric lighting, whose ethics are based on the observed results in the next world of a good or bad life in this. Yet that is the prospect before us if spiritualism obtains the scientific verification which it is now demanding, not perhaps with great success. I have only been able, in the time at my disposal, to traverse a very few of the possible fields of scientific advance. If I have convinced anyone present that science has still a good deal up her sleeve, and that of a sufficiently Startling character, I shall be amply repaid. If anything I have said appears to be of a gratuitously disgusting nature, I would reply that certain phenomena of normal life do seem to many to be of that nature, and that these phenomena are of the utmost scientific and practical importance. I have tried to show why I believe that the biologist is the most romantic figure on earth at the present day. At first sight he seems to be just a poor little scrubby underpaid man, groping blindly amid the mazes of the ultra-microscopic, engaging in bitter and lifelong quarrels over the nephridia of flatworms, waking perhaps one morning to find that someone whose name he has never heard has demolished by a few crucial experiments the work which he had hoped would render him immortal. There is real tragedy in his life, but he knows that he has a responsibility which he dare not disclaim, and he is urged on, apart from all utilitarian considerations, by something or someone which he feels to be higher than himself. The conservative has but little to fear from the man whose reason is the servant of his passions, but let him beware of him in whom reason has become the greatest and most terrible of the passions. These are the wreckers of outworn empires and civilisations, doubters, disintegrators, deicides. In the past they have been, in general, men like Voltaire, Bentham, Thales, Marx, and very possibly the divine Julius, but I think that Darwin furnishes an example of the same relentlessness of reason in the field of science. I suspect that as it becomes clear that at present reason not only has a freer play in science than elsewhere, but can produce as great effects on the world through science as through politics, philosophy, or literature, there will be more Darwins. Such men are interested primarily in truth as such, but they can hardly be quite uninterested in what will happen when they throw down their dragon's teeth into the world. I do not say that biologists as a general rule try to imagine in any detail the future applications of their science. The central problems of life for them may be the relationship between the echinoderms and brachio-pods, and the attempt to live on their salaries. They do not see themselves as sinister and revolutionary figures. They have no time to dream. But I suspect that more of them dream than would care to confess it. I have given above a very small selection from my dreams. Perhaps they are bad dreams. It is of course almost hopeless to attempt any very exact prophecies as to how in detail scientific knowledge is going to revolutionize human life, but I believe that it will continue to do so, and even more profoundly than I have suggested. And though personally I am Victorian enough in my sympathies to hope that after all family life, for example, may be spared, I can only reiterate that not one of the practical advances which I have predicted is not already fore-shadowed by recent scientific work. If a chemist or physicist living at the end of the seventeenth century had been asked to predict the future application of his science he would doubtless have made many laughable errors in the best Laputan style, but he would have been certain that it would somehow be applied, and his faith would have been justified. We must regard science then from three points of view. First it is the free activity of man’s divine faculties of reason and imagination. Secondly it is the answer of the few to the demands of the many for wealth, comfort and victory, for gifts which it will grant only in exchange for peace, security and stagnation. Finally it is man’s gradual conquest, first of space and time, then of matter as such, then of his own body and those of other living beings, and finally the subjugation of the dark and evil elements in his own soul. None of these conquests will ever be complete, but all, I believe will be progressive. The question of what he will do with these powers is essentially a question for religion and aesthetic. It may be urged that they are only fit to be placed in the hands of a being who has learned to control himself, and that man armed with science is like a baby with a box of matches. The answer to this contention may, I think, be found in the daily papers. For scores of centuries idealists had urged that wars must cease and all the earth be united under one rule. As long as any other alternative was possible it was persisted in. The events of the last nine years constituted a reductio ad absurdum of war, but when we ask who was responsible for this we shall find that it was not the visionaries but men like Black, Kekule, and Langley, who enlarged man’s power over nature until he was forced by the inexorable logic of facts to form the nucleus of an international government. We have already reacted against the frame of mind that engendered the league of nations, but we have not reacted at all completely. The league exists and is working, and in every country on earth there are many people, and ordinary normal people, who favour the idea in one form or another of a world state. I do not suggest that a world-state will arise from the present league, or for the matter of that from the third international. I merely observe that there is a widespread and organized desire for such an institution, and several possible nuclei for it. It may take another world-war or two to convert the majority. The prospect of the next world-war has at least this satisfactory element. In the late war the most rabid nationalists were to be found well behind the front line. In the next war no one will be behind the front line. It will be brought home to all whom it may concern that war is a very dirty business. No doubt there is a fair chance that the possibility of human organization on a planetary scale may be rendered impossible by such a war. If so mankind will probably have to wait for a couple of thousand years for another opportunity. But to the student of geology such a period is negligible. It took man 250,000 years to transcend the hunting pack. It will not take him so long to transcend the nation. I think then that the tendency of applied science is to magnify injustices until they become too intolerable to be borne, and the average man whom all the prophets and poets could not move, turns at last and extinguishes the evil at its source. Marx’ theory of industrial evolution is a particular example of this tendency, though it does not in the least follow that his somewhat artificial solution of the problem will be adopted. It is probable that biological progress will prove to be as incompatible with certain of our social evils as industrial progress has proved to be with war or certain systems of private ownership. To take a concrete example it is clear that the second biological invention considered by my future essayist would be intolerable in conjunction with our present system of relations between classes and sexes. Moral progress is so difficult that' I think any developments are to be welcomed which present it as the naked alternative to destruction, no matter how horrible may be the stimulus which is necessary before man will take the moral step in question. To sum up then, science is as yet in its infancy, and we can foretell little of the future save that the thing that has not been is the thing that shall be; that no beliefs, no values, no institutions are safe. So far from being an isolated phenomenon the late war is only an example of the disruptive results that we may constantly expect from the progress of science. The future will be no primrose path. It will have its own problems. Some will be the secular problems of the past, giant flowers of evil blossoming at last to their own destruction. Others will be wholly new. Whether in the end man will survive his accessions of power we cannot tell. But the problem is no new one. It is the old paradox of freedom re-enacted with mankind for actor and the earth for stage. To those who believe in the divinity of that part of man which aspires after knowledge for its own sake, who are able, in the words of Boethius: "The goal is to see you.” "The principle, the carrier, the guide, the track, the limit are the same." The prospect will appear most hopeful. But it is only hopeful if mankind can adjust its morality to its powers. If we can succeed in this, then science holds in her hands one at least of the keys to the thorny and arduous path of moral progress, th

The radiation of a uniformly accelerated charge is beyond the horizon: A simple derivation. Camila de Almeida. Departamento de Matematica Aplicada, Campinas. Instituto de Fısica, Universidade de Sao Paulo, Brazil. By exploring some elementary consequences of the covariance of Maxwell’s equations under general coordinate transformations, we show that even though inertial observers can detect electromagnetic radiation emitted from a uniformly accelerated charge, co moving observers will see only a static electric field. This analysis can add insight into one of the most celebrated paradoxes of the last century. One. Introduction. Paradoxes provide good opportunities to learn and teach physics. The long-standing paradox about the electromagnetic radiation emitted by a uniformly accelerated charge has received considerable attention. Eminent figures such as Pauli, Born, Sommerfeld, Schott, von Laue, and many others have contributed to this debate with different answers. The relevant questions we consider are: Does a uniformly accelerated charge actually radiate? In a constant gravitational field should free-falling observers detect any radiation emitted by free-falling charges? Is the equivalence principle valid for such situations? If the answer to the first question is affirmative, a free-falling charge will radiate according to an observer at rest, because in a constant gravitational field, any particle should move with uniform acceleration. However, an observer falling freely with the charge would observe it at rest and no radiation at all. How can this answer be compatible with an affirmative answer to the first question? Moreover, if the equivalence principle is assumed to be valid, we would conclude that a charged particle at rest on a table should radiate, because for free-falling inertial observers the particle is accelerating. To explain this puzzle, we need to recognize that the concept of radiation has no absolute meaning, and that it depends both on the radiation field and the state of motion of the observer. This dependence is the main conclusion of a celebrated and long debate, exhaustively presented in the recent series of papers by Eriksen and Gron, where the reader can find relevant references. Inertial observers have no doubts about the answer to the first question. They will answer it affirmatively by using special relativity and Maxwell’s equations, as it is done in classical electrodynamics texts, see, for example Reference 6 whose conventions we adopt. Nevertheless, co-moving observers, that is, accelerated observers with respect to whom the charge is at rest, will not detect any radiation because the radiation field is confined to a space-time region beyond a horizon that they cannot access. As we will see, uniformly accelerated observers are able, in principle, to detect electromagnetic radiation from an inertial charge. These observations are enough to solve the paradoxes posed by the three questions. The last two conclusions are obtained by considering Maxwell’s equations for non-inertial observers. We will show that we can conclude that co moving observers have no access to the radiation field of a uniformly accelerated charge. The concept of a horizon emerges naturally in this context. Our approach is inspired by the recent analysis of this problem by Gupta and Padmanabhan whose result is much stronger. They show how to calculate the radiation field for an arbitrarily moving charge by solving Maxwell’s equations in the, non-inertial, reference frame where the charge is at rest, and then transforming the electromagnetic field to the inertial reference frame by exploiting the tensorial character of Maxwell’s equations. As stressed in Reference 7, this is a remarkable result because the spatial and time dependences of the radiation field in the inertial frame have to be converted into the geometrical properties of the background metric of the reference frame where the charge is static. We take the converse approach here and will show that it is simple to conclude that the electromagnetic field generated by a uniformly accelerated charge is observed by a co moving observer as a purely electrostatic field. Two. The hyperbolic motion. The speed of light c is the maximum speed that a physical body can attain. Thus the uniformly accelerated motion of a particle should have v goes to c as tau goes to plus or minus infinity where is the proper time as measured by a co-moving clock. It is easy to deduce that a particle moving with constant proper acceleration g along the z direction has a hyperbolic world-line given by the curve r alpha (Of tau): Equations one-a to one-d, in the text. For example c t equals c squared over g times hyperbolic sine of g tau over c. There is no loss of generality if the motion is restricted to the z direction. Such a world-line is displayed in Figure one. “A.” The Horizons. The velocity of a particle according to Equation one approaches plus or minus c as tau goes to plus or minus infinity, and its trajectory tends asymptotically to the lines plus or minus c t equals z, with z greater than zero as shown in Figure one. Consider the point Q. Its past light-cone intersects the hyperbolic trajectory. Indeed, a large part of the trajectory, tau is less than tau Q ret, is entirely contained inside its past light-cone, implying that the point Q could be causally influenced by signals emitted by the particle for tau is less than or equal to tau Q ret. No signal emitted for tau greater than tau Q ret will influence Q, because the points of the trajectory with tau greater than tau Q ret are not contained in the past light-cone of Q. Moreover, a signal emitted in the space time Q will affect only the region corresponding to its future light-cone, implying that no signal emitted in Q will reach the particle moving according to Equation one. The line ct equals z acts as a future event horizon for regions One and Four, or, equivalently, a past event horizon for regions Two and Three. No signal emitted in regions Two or Three will reach regions One and Four, although signals emitted in One or Four can cross the line and enter into regions Two and Three. Analogously, the line minus c t equals is a future event horizon for regions three and four, or a past event horizon for one and two. Because the hyperbolic trajectory is entirely contained in region One, the lines ct equals z and minus ct equals z act, respectively, as the future and past horizons for a particle under uniformly accelerated motion. We will see that such structures appear naturally when we consider the radiation emitted by a uniformly accelerated charged particle. B. The Radiation in the inertial frame. The metric of the inertial Minkowski spacetime is given by equation two: D s squared equals eta “A”, “B” d x “A” d X “B” equals c squared d t squared minus d x squared minus d y squared minus d z squared. Where x “A” equals ct, x, y, z. Maxwell’s equations are not only Lorentz invariant, they can also be cast in a generally covariant way, valid for any reference frame with the metric G “A”, “B”. The derivative of the Faraday tensor, equation three. D “A” of F B C plus D “B” of F C “A” plus D “C” of F “A” B equals zero. And equation four, the derivative of the Faraday tensor equals the current density. G equals the determinant of G “A” B, and J B is the external 4-current. Equation three is automatically satisfied if the 4-potential “A” b is introduced: F b c equals d b of “A” c minus d c of “A” b. In the inertial Minkowski frame, the radiation emitted by a uniformly accelerated charge e corresponds to the solution of Equations three and four with G “A” B equals eta “A” b. The Current density J “A” (Of x) equals the integral of a single point charge. Such a solution for the Faraday tensor is given by equation five, for the conditions of equation six. In the inertial frame we can read from the Faraday tensor F “A”, “B” the usual three-dimensional components of the electric and magnetic field as equation eight, and obtain after some algebra the components of the electric and magnetic fields as in equations nine. These are the electromagnetic fields due to a uniformly accelerated charge moving according to Equation one. The radiation content can be extracted by separating the components that drop off as one over R from the usual Coulomb one over r squared fields. As shown in Figure one, only regions One and Two can experience the fields in Equation nine. The main conclusion of Reference four is that, even though radiation components are present in both regions, only observations performed in region Two, and, perhaps, also on the boundary ct equals z between regions One and Two, would allow us to detect unambiguously the radiation emitted by the charge. This conclusion implies that the co-moving observer would not detect any radiation at all, because region Two is inaccessible to uniformly accelerated observers. Although this conclusion is correct, its logical derivation is involved and not intuitive. Two regions of space-time which have qualitatively distinct behavior for the radiation field according to inertial observers are identified and, then, it is shown that the co-moving observers have access only to the region where inertial observers are not able to detect any radiation field. However, this conclusion does not directly imply that the co-moving observers cannot detect the radiation because, as we have discussed, the detection of radiation has no absolute meaning because the detection depends both on the radiation field and the state of motion of the observer. C. No Radiation in the co-moving frame. We can show directly that a co-moving observer will observe the fields in Equation nine as a static electric field. The reference frame of a uniformly accelerated observer corresponds to the Rindler space-time, which in our case is spanned by the co-ordinates x prime a (Of x) equals c tau (Of t, z), x, y, Xi (OF t, z) defined by equation ten. T equals the square root of two xi over g times shine g tau over c. And z equals c times square root two xi over g times gosh g tau over c. With Xi greater than zero. The particle under the hyperbolic motion of equations one in the Rindler reference frame is at rest at xi equals c squared over two g, and its proper time is measured by tau. In these coordinates the spacetime interval is given by: D s squared equals G “A”, “B” d x “A”, d x “B”. Note that the coordinates defined by Equation ten cover only region One of the original Minkowski spacetime. Because static observers, where Xi is a constant, correspond to uniformly accelerating observers in the original Minkowski spacetime, their velocity in the inertial frame will approach c as tau goes to infinity, implying that no signal coming from region Two will ever reach them see Figure one. As mentioned, the line c t equals z behaves as an event horizon, and no signal emitted in regions two or three can escape into regions one and four. The coordinate transformation, ten, can be used to obtain the solution of Maxwell’s equations, three and four for the Rindler spacetime with a charge e at rest in Xi equals c squared over two g. Recall that the electromagnetic field F “A”, “B” is a tensor and hence under a coordinate transformation x “A” goes to X “A” prime it transforms as equation twelve. Because Maxwell’s equations (3) and (4) are covariant under general coordinate transformations, F prime “A”, “B” will be a solution for the coordinate system x prime “A” (Of x) if the Faraday tensor F “A” “B” is a solution of Equations three and four in the coordinate system x “A”. The magnetic components of F prime “A”, “B” are given by equation set thirteen. Strictly speaking, we need to be careful about the interpretation of F prime 1, 3 F prime 2, 3 and F prime 1, 2 as the components of the magnetic field as observed in the Rindler reference frame. A proper definition of electric and magnetic fields for non-inertial reference frames can be obtained from the Lorentz force formula. This issue will not be relevant to our analysis. By using equation nine, the components of the faraday tensor can be written down, as in equation fourteen. From the equations ten, which relate the transformation between proper time tau and rest frame time t, we can calculate. D tau, d t equals z over two xi. D tau, d z equals minus t over two xi. D xi, d t equals minus g t. D xi, d z equals g z over c squared. This leads to F prime 1,3 equals F prime 2,3 equals zero. Therefore the only non-vanishing components of the electromagnetic field experienced by Co-moving observers are F prime 0-1, 0-2 and 0-3. Because the only non-vanishing component of the 4-current J rime “A” is J prime zero for a static charge in the Rindler reference frame, we conclude from Equation four that the remaining non-vanishing components of the electromagnetic field are static, that is, d F prime zero one, with respect to 0, equals d F prime zero two, with respect to 0, equals d F prime zero three, with respect to 0, equals zero. So that there is no radiation field in region one, the Rindler reference frame. This result answers our question. A co-moving observer will not detect any radiation from a uniformly accelerated charge. The co-moving observer can receive signals only from regions one and four. The field emitted by the accelerated charge does not reach region four, and in region one, it is interpreted by the co-moving observer as a static field. We note that essentially the same argument was used by Rohrlich to show that in a static homogeneous gravitational field, static observers do not detect any radiation from static charges. The situation is qualitatively different beyond the horizon in region two. Although uniformly accelerated observers will never receive any information from region two, they can affect this region. The coordinate system ten can be extended to include region two by considering Xi is less than zero and the equation set sixteen. T, and z are expressible using transformations of the hyperbolic cos and sine of the proper time. The metric eleven and the expressions fifteen, valid for region one, also hold in region two, but with a crucial difference due to the change of sign of the metric components: in region two, xi instead of tau plays the role of a time parameter. Thus the metric of equation eleven is not static in region two. The magnetic components of F prime “A”, “B” in region two can be obtained from transformations such as Equation thirteen if we take into account that the components zero, temporal, and three, spatial are, respectively, Xi and c tau in equation seventeen: One over y F prime 1, 3 equals one over x F prime 2, 3 equals the charge e over a function of tau, z and t. The fields in equation seventeen, together with the electric components that can be obtained in an analogous way, are time-dependent solutions of the, vacuum, Maxwell equations in region two, having radiating parts. However, they are inaccessible to a co-moving observer because they are confined beyond his-her future horizon. Three. CONCLUDING REMARKS. The physics of the Rindler space is sufficiently subtle to deserve some extra remarks. Trajectories with constant Xi, see Figure two, correspond to uniformly accelerated trajectories in the inertial frame, but with distinct accelerations. The trajectory one corresponds to the static world-line Xi equals c squared over two g in the Rindler frame. From the inertial frame point of view, the true co-moving observer should correspond also to xi equals c squared over two g, because any other static Rindler observer would be in relative motion according to the inertial frame point of view with respect to the charge following Equation one. Our results show that the electromagnetic field of the uniformly accelerated charge is realized as a purely electrostatic field everywhere in the Rindler frame, implying that even observers with Xi is not equals c squared over two g, for which the charge is indeed accelerating when observed from the inertial point of view, would not detect the emitted radiation. This observation, which anticipates an intriguing quantum result described by Matsas, reinforces the role played by the horizon, the unique property that the trajectories of these distinct observers have in common, see figure two. The discussion can be considerably enriched by the introductions of quantum mechanical concepts. The classical radiation emitted by the accelerated charge in the inertial frame consists of a large number of real photons, which due to some subtle quantum effects cannot be detected by co-moving observers. To illustrate the novelties brought by quantum mechanics, consider in the Minkowski space a uniformly accelerated observer following a trajectory such as that in Equation one and a charge at rest at the origin. The world-line for this charge is the ct axis, and it is restricted to regions two and four. The solution of Maxwell equations in the inertial frame is the static Coulomb field is given in equation eighteen. Which spreads over all four regions of Figure one. In region one, where a uniformly accelerated observer can detect any field coming from the charge, the static Coulomb field will be measured by such observers as a time-depending electromagnetic field with components given in equation nineteen. The fields nineteen are solutions of the, vacuum, Maxwell equations in region one as seen by uniformly accelerated observers. These fields have radiative components, although it is not so easy in this case to identify the terms dropping off as one over R. Note that the accelerated observers are completely unaware of the charge fate in region two. Because they can detect only the contributions coming from regions one and four, they will never discover what eventually happens to the charge in region two if it, for instance, accelerates or even if it vanishes. An analysis of this problem based on quantum field theory, however, demands that the trajectory of the charge be entirely inside region one. Is it possible to conclude something in this case? Astonishing the answer is yes. In the Rindler reference frame static trajectories with Xi goes to infinity, see Figure two 2, correspond to uniformly accelerated trajectories in the inertial frame, restricted by construction to region one, but with proper acceleration g equals c squared over two Xi goes to zero. Thus, they correspond to inertial trajectories! Now we can answer the question of whether uniformly accelerated observers could detect any photon emitted by these specific inertial charges, and the answer is no. The detection of radiation is not the only paradox involving accelerated charges. Another very interesting paradox is related to the radiation reaction force. As we discussed, an inertial observer detects the radiation emitted by a uniformly accelerated charge. He-she can even calculate the, non-vanishing, total radiated power. But we know from classical electrodynamics that the radiation reaction force vanishes for a constant proper acceleration. Hence, what is acting as the source of the radiated power? How is it possible to conserve energy in this case? Interesting questions, but that’s another story. Figure One. The hyperbolic trajectory r “A” (Of tau) given by Equation one. The retarded time tau ret associated with a given point (c t, x, y, z) corresponds to the (unique) intersection of the past light-cone of (c t, x, y, z) with the trajectory r “A” (Of tau). For instance, Q prime equals c squared over g times shine g tau ret Q over C, zero, zero gosh g tau ret Q over C, and P prime equals c squared over g times shine g tau ret P over C, zero, zero gosh g tau ret P over C, define, respectively, the retarded times tau ret Q and tau ret P associated with the points Q and P. The future light-cone is the boundary of the causal future of a given point. Thus, any event occurring, for instance, in the spacetime point R will affect only the region enclosed by its future light-cone, with the light-cone surface reserved only to signals moving with velocity c. Note that only regions one and two are affected by the fields due to a charged particle with a world line given by Equation one. Figure two. The lines of constant Xi and tau according to Equation ten and sixteen, respectively, for the regions one and two. In region one, the Rindler frame where Xi is greater than zero, the identified lines correspond to Xi 1 less than Xi 2 is less than Xi three and tau 1 is less than tau 2 is less than tau three. Lines of constant Xi, the hyperbola, are time-like. On the other hand, for region two, known as the Milne frame where Xi is less than zero, the lines of constant tau are time like. The identified lines in two correspond to the cases tau 1 is less than tau 2 is less than tau and Xi 1 is greater than Xi 2 is greater than Xi 3. The horizon, the boundary c t equals z between one and two, corresponds to one half of the degenerated hyperbola corresponding to Xi equals zero. https://rumble.com/v3t4yzj-index-of-science.-music-by-dan-vasc.html

SOUL MOUNTAIN. GAO XINGJIAN. Translated from the Chinese by Mabel Lee. Reformatted for machine text by PukeOnaPlate2024. One. The old bus is a city reject. After shaking in it for twelve hours on the potholed highway since early morning, you arrive in this mountain county town in the South. In the bus station, which is littered with ice-block wrappers and sugar cane scraps, you stand with your backpack and a bag and look around for a while. People are getting off the bus or walking past, men humping sacks and women carrying babies. A crowd of youths, unhampered by sacks or baskets, have their hands free. They take sunflower seeds out of their pockets, toss them one at a time into their mouths and spit out the shells. With a loud crack the kernels are expertly eaten. To be leisurely and carefree is endemic to the place. They are locals and life has made them like this, they have been here for many generations and you wouldn’t need to go looking anywhere else for them. The earliest to leave the place travelled by river in black canopy boats and overland in hired carts, or by foot if they didn’t have the money. Of course at that time there were no buses and no bus stations. Nowadays, as long as they are still able to travel, they flock back home, even from the other side of the Pacific, arriving in cars or big air-conditioned coaches. The rich, the famous and the nothing in particular all hurry back because they are getting old. After all, who doesn’t love the home of their ancestors? They don’t intend to stay so they walk around looking relaxed, talking and laughing loudly, and effusing fondness and affection for the place. When friends meet they don’t just give a nod or a handshake in the meaningless ritual of city people, but rather they shout the person’s name or thump him on the back. Hugging is also common, but not for women. By the cement trough where the buses are washed, two young women hold hands as they chat. The women here have lovely voices and you can’t help taking a second look. The one with her back to you is wearing an indigo-print headscarf. This type of scarf, and how it’s tied, dates back many generations but is seldom seen these days. You find yourself walking towards them. The scarf is knotted under her chin and the two ends point up. She has a beautiful face. Her features are delicate, so is her slim body. You pass close by them. They have been holding hands all this time, both have red coarse hands and strong fingers. Both are probably recent brides back seeing relatives and friends, or visiting parents. Here, the word xifu means one’s own daughter-in-law and using it like rustic Northerners to refer to any young married woman will immediately incur angry abuse. On the other hand, a married woman calls her own husband laogong, yet your laogong and my laogong are both used. People here speak with a unique intonation even though they are descendants of the same legendary emperor and are of the same culture and race. You can’t explain why you’re here. It happened that you were on a train and this person mentioned a place called Lingshan. He was sitting opposite and your cup was next to his. As the train moved, the lids on the cups clattered against one another. If the lids kept on clattering or clattered and then stopped, that would have been the end of it. However, whenever you and he were about to separate the cups, the clattering would stop, and as soon as you and he looked away the clattering would start again. He and you reached out, but again the clattering stopped. The two of you laughed at the same instant, put the cups well apart, and started a conversation. You asked him where he was going. “Lingshan.” “What?” “Lingshan, ling meaning spirit or soul, and shan meaning mountain.” You’d been to lots of places, visited lots of famous mountains, but had never heard of this place. Your friend opposite had closed his eyes and was dozing. Like anyone else, you couldn’t help being curious and naturally wanted to know which famous places you’d missed on your travels. Also, you liked doing things properly and it was annoying that there was a place you’ve never even heard of. You asked him about the location of Lingshan. “At the source of the You River,” he said, opening his eyes. You didn’t know this You River either, but was embarrassed about asking and gave an ambiguous nod which could have meant either “I see, thanks” or “Oh, I know the place”. This satisfied your desire for superiority, but not your curiosity. After a while you asked how to get there and the route up the mountain. “Take the train to Wuyizhen, then go upstream by boat on the You River.” “What’s there? Scenery? Temples? Historic sites?” you asked, trying to be casual. “It’s all virgin wilderness.” “Ancient forests?” “Of course, but not just ancient forests.” “What about Wild Men?” you said, joking. He laughed without any sarcasm, and didn’t seem to be making fun of himself which intrigued you even more. You had to find out more about him. “Are you an ecologist? A biologist? An anthropologist? An archaeologist?” He shook his head each time then said, “I’m more interested in living people.” “So you’re doing research on folk customs? You’re a sociologist? An ethnographer? An ethnologist? A journalist, perhaps? An adventurer?” “I’m an amateur in all of these.” The two of you started laughing. “I’m an expert amateur in all of these!” The laughing made you and him cheerful. He lit a cigarette and couldn’t stop talking as he told you about the wonders of Lingshan. Afterwards, at your request, he tore up his empty cigarette box and drew a map of the route up Lingshan. In the North it is already late autumn but the summer heat hasn’t completely subsided. Before sunset, it is still quite hot in the sun and sweat starts running down your back. You leave the station to have a look around. There’s nothing nearby except for the little inn across the road. It’s an old-style two-storey building with a wooden shopfront. Upstairs the floorboards creak badly but worse still is the grime on the pillow and sleeping mat. If you wanted to have a wash, you’d have to wait till it was dark to strip off and pour water over yourself in the damp and narrow courtyard. This is a stopover for the village peddlers and craftsmen. It’s well before dark, so there’s plenty of time to find somewhere clean. You walk down the road looking around the little town, hoping to find some indication, a billboard or a poster, or just the name “Lingshan” to tell you you’re on the right track and haven’t been tricked into making this long excursion. You look everywhere but don’t find anything. There were no tourists like you amongst the other passengers who got off the bus. Of course you’re not that sort of tourist, it’s just what you’re wearing: strong sensible sports shoes and a backpack with shoulder straps, no-one else is dressed like you. But this isn’t one of the tourist spots frequented by newlyweds and retirees. Those places have been transformed by tourism, coaches are parked everywhere and tourist maps are on sale. Tourist hats, tourist T-shirts, tourist singlets and tourist handkerchiefs printed with the name of the place are in all the little shops and stalls, and the name of the place is used in the trade names of all the “foreign exchange currency only” hotels for foreigners, the “locals with references only” hostels and sanatoriums, and of course the small private hotels competing for customers. You haven’t come to enjoy yourself in one of those places on the sunny side of a mountain where people congregate just to look at and jostle one another and to add to the litter of melon rind, fruit peel, soft drink bottles, cans, cartons, sandwich wrappings and cigarette butts. Sooner or later this place will also boom but you’re here before they put up the gaudy pavilions and terraces, before the reporters come with their cameras and before the celebrities come to put up plaques with their calligraphy. You can’t help feeling rather pleased with yourself, and yet you’re anxious. There’s no sign of anything here for tourists, have you made a blunder? You’re only going by the map on the cigarette box in your shirt pocket, what if the expert amateur you met on the train had only heard about the place on his travels? How do you know he wasn’t just making it all up? You’ve never seen the place mentioned in travel accounts and it’s not listed in the most up-to-date travel guides. Of course, it isn’t hard to find places like Lingtai, Lingqiu, Lingyan and even Lingshan on provincial maps and you know very well that in the histories and classics, Lingshan appears in works dating back to the ancient shamanistic work Classic of the Mountains and Seas and the old geographical gazetteer Annotated Water Classic. It was also at Lingshan that Buddha enlightened the Venerable Mahakashyapa. You’re not stupid, so just use your brains, first find this place Wuyizhen on the cigarette box, for this is how you’ll get to Lingshan. You return to the bus station and go into the waiting room. The busiest place in this small town is now deserted. The ticket window and the parcel window are boarded up from the inside so knocking is useless. There’s no-one to ask so you can only go through the lists of stops above the ticket window: Zhang Village, Sandy Flat, Cement Factory, Old Hut, Golden Horse, Good Harvest, Flood Waters, Dragon Bay, Peach Blossom Hollow, the names keep getting better, but the place you want isn’t there. This is just a small town but there are several routes and quite a few buses go through. The busiest route, with five or six buses a day, is to Cement Factory but that’s definitely not a tourist route. The route with the fewest buses, one a day, is sure to go to the furthest destination and it turns out that Wuyizhen is the last stop. There’s nothing special about the name, it’s just like any other place name and there’s nothing magical about it. Still, you seem to have found one end of a hopeless tangle and while you’re not ecstatic, you’re certainly relieved. You’ll need to buy a ticket in the morning an hour before departure and you know from experience that with mountain buses like this, which run once a day, just to get on will be a fight. Unless you’re prepared to do battle, you’ll just have to queue up early. But, right now, you’ve lots of time, although your backpack’s a nuisance. As you amble along the road timber trucks go by noisily sounding their horns. In the town the noise worsens as trucks, some with trailers, blast their horns and conductors hang out of windows loudly banging the sides of the buses to hasten the pedestrians off the road. The old buildings on both sides stand flush with the road and all have wooden shopfronts. The downstairs is for business and upstairs there is washing hung out to dry, nappies, bras, underpants with patched crotches, floral-print bedspreads, like flags of all the nations, flaping in the noise and dust of the traffic. The concrete telegraph poles along the street are pasted at eye level with all sorts of posters. One for curing body odour catches your attention. This is not because you’ve got body odour but because of the fancy language and the words in brackets after “body odour”. Body odour, known also as scent of the immortals, is a disgusting condition with an awful, nauseating smell. It often affects social relationships and can delay life’s major event: marriage. It disadvantages young men and women at job interviews or when they try to enlist, therefore inflicting much suffering and anguish. By using a new total treatment, we can instantly eradicate the odour with a rate of up to 97.53 percent success. For joy in life and future happiness, we welcome you to come and rid yourself of it. After that you come to a stone bridge: no body odour here, just a cool, refreshing breeze. The bridge spanning the broad river has a bitumen surface but the carved monkeys on the worn stone posts testify to its long history. You lean on the concrete railing and survey the township alongside the bridge. On both banks, black rooftops overlapping like fishscales stretch endlessly into the distance. The valley opens out between two mountains where the upper areas of gold paddy fields are inlaid with clusters of green bamboos. The river is blue and clear as it trickles over the sandy shores, but close to the granite pylons dividing the current it becomes inky green and deep. Just past the hump of the bridge the rushing water churns loudly and white foam surfaces from whirlpools. The ten-metre-high stone embankment is stained with water levels, the new greyish-yellow lines were probably left by the recent summer floods. Can this be the You River? And does it flow down from Lingshan? The sun is about to set. The bright orange disc is infused with light but there’s no glare. You gaze into the distance at the hazy layers of jagged peaks where the two sides of the valley join. This ominous black image nibbles at the lower edges of the glowing sun which seems to be revolving. The sun turns a dark red, gentler, and projects brilliant gold reflections onto the entire bend of the river: the dark blue of the water fusing with the dazzling sunlight throbs and pulsates. As the red sphere seats itself in the valley it becomes serene, awesomely beautiful, and there are sounds. You hear them, elusive, distinctly reverberating from deep in your heart and radiating outwards until the sun seems to prop itself up on its toes, stumble, then sink into the black shadows of the mountains, scattering glowing colours throughout the sky. An evening wind blows noisily by your ears and cars drive past, as usual sounding their deafening horns. You cross the bridge and see there a new dedication stone with engraved characters painted in red: “Yongning Bridge. Built in the third year of the Kaiyuan reign period of the Song Dynasty and repaired in 1962. This stone was laid in 1983.” It no doubt marks the beginning of the tourist industry here. Two food stalls stand at the end of the bridge. In the one on the left you eat a bowl of bean curd, the smooth and tasty kind with all the right ingredients. Hawkers used to sell it in the streets and lanes but it completely disappeared for quite some years and has recently been revived as family enterprises. In the stall on the right you eat two sesame-coated shallot pancakes, straight off the stove and piping-hot. Then at one of the stalls, you can’t remember which, you eat a bowl of sweet yuanxiao dumplings broiled in rice wine. They are the size of large pearls. Of course, you’re not as academic about food as Mister Ma the Second who toured West Lake, but you do have a hefty appetite nevertheless. You savour this food of your ancestors and listen to customers chatting with the proprietors. They’re mostly locals and all know one another. You try using the mellifluous local accent to be friendly, you want to be one of them. You’ve lived in the city for a long time and need to feel that you have a hometown. You want a hometown so that you’ll be able to return to your childhood to recollect long lost memories. On this side of the bridge you eventually find an inn on an old cobblestone street. The wooden floors have been mopped and it’s clean enough. You are given a small single room which has a plank bed covered with a bamboo mat. The cotton blanket is a suspicious grey, either it hasn’t been washed properly or that’s the original colour. You throw aside the greasy pillow from under the bamboo mat and luckily it’s hot so you can do without the bedding. What you need right now is to off-load your luggage which has become quite heavy, wash off the dust and sweat, strip, and stretch yourself out on the bed. There’s shouting and yelling next door. They’re gambling and you can hear them picking up and throwing down the cards. A timber partition separates you and, through the holes poked into the paper covering the cracks, you make out the blurred figures of some bare chested men. You’re not so tired that you can drop off to sleep just like that. You tap on the wall and instantly there’s loud shouting next door. They’re not shouting at you but amongst themselves, there are always winners and losers and it sounds as though the loser is trying to get out of paying. They’re openly gambling in the inn despite the public security office notice on the wall prohibiting gambling and prostitution. You decide to see if the law works. You put on some clothes, go down the corridor and knock on the half-closed door. Your knocking makes no difference, they keep shouting and yelling inside and nobody takes any notice. So you push open the door and go in. The four men sitting around the bed in the middle of the room all turn to look at you. But it’s you and not they who gets a rude shock. The men all have bits of paper stuck on their faces, on their foreheads, lips, noses and cheeks, and they look ugly and ridiculous. They aren’t laughing and are glaring at you. You’ve butted in and they’re clearly annoyed. “Oh, you’re playing cards,” you say, putting on an apologetic look. They go on playing. The long paper cards have red and black markings like mahjong and there’s a Gate of Heaven and a Prison of Hell. The winner penalizes the loser by tearing off a strip of newspaper and sticking it on a designated spot. Whether this is a prank, a way of letting off steam, or a tally, is something agreed upon by the gamblers and there is no way for outsiders to know what it’s all about. You beat a retreat, go back to your room, lie down again, and see a thick mass of black specks around the light globe. Millions of mosquitoes are waiting for the light to go out so that they can come down and feast on your blood. You quickly let down the net and are enclosed in a narrow conical space, at the top of which is a bamboo hoop. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept under a hoop like this, and you’ve long since passed the age of being able to stare at the hoop to lose yourself in reverie. Today, you can’t know what traumas tomorrow will bring. You’ve learnt through experience everything you need to know. What else are you looking for? When a man gets to middle age shouldn’t he look for a peaceful and stable existence, find a not-too-demanding sort of a job, stay in a mediocre position, become a husband and a father, set up a comfortable home, put money in the bank and add to it every month so there’ll be something for old age and a little left over for the next generation? Two. It is in the Qiang region halfway up Qionglai Mountain, in the border areas of the Qinghai-Tibetan highlands and the Sichuan basin, that I witness a vestige of early human civilization, the worship of fire. Fire, the bringer of civilization, has been worshipped by the early ancestors of human beings everywhere. It is sacred. The old man is sitting in front of the fire drinking liquor from a bowl. Before each sip he puts a finger into it and flicks some on the charcoals which splutter noisily and send out blue sparks. It is only then that I perceive that I too am real. “That’s for the God of the Cooking Stove, it’s thanks to him that we can eat and drink,” he says. The dancing light of the fire shines on his thin cheeks, the high bridge of his nose, and his cheekbones. He tells me he is of the Qiang nationality and that he’s from Gengda village down the mountain. I can’t ask straight out about demons and spirits, so I tell him I’m here to do some research on the folk songs of the mountain. Do traditional song masters and dancers still exist here? He says he’s one of them. The men and women all used to form a circle around the fire and dance right through to daybreak, but later on it was banned. “Why?” I know quite well but I ask. I’m being dishonest again. “It was the Cultural Revolution. They said the songs were dirty so we turned to singing Sayings of Mao Zedong songs instead.” “And what about after that?” I persist in asking. This is becoming a habit. “No-one sings those anymore. People are doing the dances again but not many of the young people can do them, I’m teaching the dances to some of them.” I ask him for a demonstration. Without any hesitation, he instantly gets to his feet and proceeds to dance and sing. His voice is low and rich, he’s got a good voice. I’m sure he’s Qiang even if the police in charge of the population register insist that he isn’t. They think anyone claiming to be Tibetan or Qiang is trying to evade birth restrictions so they can have more children. He sings song after song. He says he’s a fun-loving person, and I believe him. When he finished up as village head, he went back to being one of the mountain people, an old mountain man who likes good fun, though unfortunately he is past the age for romance. He also knows incantations, the kind hunters employ when they go into the mountains. They are called mountain blackmagic or hexes and he has no qualms about using them. He really believes they can drive wild animals into pits or get them to step into snares. They aren’t used only on animals, they’re also used against other human beings for revenge. A victim of mountain blackmagic won’t be able to find his way out of the mountains. They are like the “demon walls” I heard about as a child: when a person has been travelling for some time at night in the mountains, a wall, a cliff or a deep river appears right in front of him, so that he can’t go any further. If the spell isn’t broken the person’s feet don’t move forward and even if he keeps walking, he stays exactly where he started off. Only at daybreak does he discover that he has been going around in circles. That’s not so bad, the worst is when a person is led into a blind alley, that means death. He intones strings of incantations. It’s not slow and relaxed like when he is singing, but just nan-nan-na na to a quick beat. I can’t understand it at all but I can feel the mystical pull of the words and a demonic, powerful atmosphere instantly permeates the room, the inside of which is black from smoke. The glow of the flames licking the iron pot of mutton stew makes his eyes glint. This is all starkly real. While you search for the route to Lingshan, I wander along the Yangtze River looking for this sort of reality. I had just gone through a crisis and then, on top of that, a doctor wrongly diagnosed me with lung cancer. Death was playing a joke on me but now that I’ve escaped the demon wall, I am secretly rejoicing. Life for me once again has a wonderful freshness. I should have left those contaminated surroundings long ago and returned to nature to look for this authentic life. In those contaminated surroundings I was taught that life was the source of literature, that literature had to be faithful to life, faithful to real life. My mistake was that I had alienated myself from life and ended up turning my back on real life. Life is not the same as manifestations of life. Real life, or in other words the basic substance of life, should be the former and not the latter. I had gone against real life because I was simply stringing together life’s manifestations, so of course I wasn’t able to accurately portray life and in the end only succeeded in distorting reality. I don’t know whether I’m now on the right track but in any case I’ve extricated myself from the bustling literary world and have also escaped from my smoke-filled room. The books piled everywhere in that room were oppressive and stifling. They expounded all sorts of truths, historical truths to truths on how to be human. I couldn’t see the point of so many truths but still got enmeshed in the net of those truths and was struggling hopelessly, like an insect caught in a spider’s web. Fortunately, the doctor who gave the wrong diagnosis saved my life. He was quite frank and got me to compare the two chest X-rays taken on two separate occasions, a blurry shadow on the left lobe of the lung had spread along the second rib to the wall of the windpipe. It wouldn’t help even to have the whole of the left lobe removed. The outcome was obvious. My father had died of lung cancer. He died within three months of it being discovered and it was this doctor who had correctly diagnosed it. I had faith in his medical expertise and he had faith in science. The chest X-rays taken at two different hospitals were identical, there was no possibility of a technical mistake. He also wrote an authorization for a sectional X-ray, the appointment was in two weeks’ time. This was nothing to get worried about, it was just to determine the extent of the tumor. My father had this done before he died. The outcome would be the same whether or not I had the X ray, it was nothing special. That I in fact would slip through the fingers of Death can only be put down to good luck. I believe in science but I also believe in fate. I once saw a four-inch length of wood which had been collected in the Qiang region by an anthropologist during the 1930s. It was a carved statue of a person doing a handstand. The head had ink markings for the eyes, nose and mouth, and the word “longevity” had been written on the body. It was called “Wuchang Upside Down” and there was something oddly mischievous about it. I ask the Qiang retired village head whether such talismans are still around. He tells me these are called “old root”. This wooden idol has to accompany the newborn from birth to death. At death it accompanies the corpse from the house and after the burial it is placed in the wilderness to allow the spirit to return to nature. I ask him if he can get me one so that I can carry it on me. He laughs and says these are what hunters tuck into their shirts to ward off evil spirits, they wouldn’t be of any use to someone like me. “Is there an old hunter who knows about this sort of magic and can take me hunting with him?” I ask. “Grandpa Stone would be the best,” he says after thinking about it. “How can I find him?” I ask right away. “He’s in Grandpa Stone’s Hut.” “Where’s this Grandpa Stone’s Hut?” “Go another twenty li on to Silver Mine Gully then follow the creek right up to the end. There you’ll find a stone hut.” “Is that the name of the place or do you mean the hut of Grandpa Stone?” He says it’s the name of the place, that there’s in fact a stone hut, and that Grandpa Stone lives there. “Can you take me to him?” I ask. “He’s dead. He lay down on his bed and died in his sleep. He was too old, he lived to well over ninety, some even say well over a hundred. In any case, nobody’s sure about his age.” “Are any of his descendants still alive?” “In my grandfather’s generation and for as long as I can remember, he was always on his own.” “Without a wife?” “He lived on his own in Silver Mine Gully. He lived high up the gully, in the solitary hut, alone. Oh, and that rifle of his is still hanging on the wall of the hut.” I ask him what he’s trying to tell me. He says Grandpa Stone was a great hunter, a hunter who was an expert in the magical arts. There are no hunters like that these days. Everyone knows that his rifle is hanging in the hut, that it never misses its target, but nobody dares to go and take it. “Why?” I’m even more puzzled. “The route into Silver Mine Gully is cut.” “There’s no way through?” “Not anymore. Earlier on people used to mine silver there, a firm from Chengdu hired a team of workers and they began mining. Later on, after the mine was looted, everyone just left, and the plank roads they had laid either broke up or rotted.” “When did all this happen?” “When my grandfather was still alive, more than fifty years ago.” That would be about right, after all he’s already retired and has become history, real history. “So since then nobody’s ever gone there?” I become even more intrigued. “Hard to say, anyway it’s hard to get there.” “And the hut has rotted?” “Stone collapses, how can it rot?” “I was talking about the ridgepole.” “Oh, quite right.” He doesn’t want to take me there, nor does he want to find a hunter for me, so that’s why he’s leading me on like this, I think. “Then how do you know the rifle’s still hanging on the wall?” I ask, regardless. “That’s what everyone says, someone must’ve seen it. They all say that Grandpa Stone is incredible, his corpse hasn’t rotted and wild animals don’t dare to go near. He just lies there all stiff and emaciated, and his rifle is hanging there on the wall.” “Impossible,” I declare. “With the high humidity up here in the mountain, the corpse would have rotted and the rifle would have turned into a pile of rust.” “I don’t know. Anyway, people have been saying this for years.” He refuses to give in and sticks to his story. The light of the fire dances in his eyes and I seem to detect a cunning streak in them. “And you’ve never seen him?” I won’t let him off. “People who have seen him say that he seems to be asleep, that he’s emaciated, and that the rifle is hanging there on the wall above his head,” he says, unruffled. “He knew black magic. It’s not just that people don’t dare go there to steal his rifle, even animals don’t dare to go near.” The hunter is already myth. To talk about a mixture of history and legend is how folk stories are born. Reality exists only through experience, and it must be personal experience. However, once related, even personal experience becomes a narrative. Reality can’t be verified and doesn’t need to be, that can be left for the “reality-of-life” experts to debate. What is important is life. Reality is simply that I am sitting by the fire in this room which is black with grime and smoke and that I see the light of the fire dancing in his eyes. Reality is myself, reality is only the perception of this instant and it can’t be related to another person. All that needs to be said is that outside, a mist is enclosing the green-blue mountain in a haze and your heart is reverberating with the rushing water of a swift-flowing stream. Three. So you arrive in Wuyizhen, on a long and narrow street inlaid with black cobblestones, and walking along this cobblestone street with its deep single-wheel rut, you suddenly enter your childhood, you seem to have spent your childhood in an old mountain town like this. The one-wheel handcarts can no longer be seen and instead of the creak of jujube axles greased with bean oil, the streets are filled with the din of bicycle bells. Cyclists here need the skills of an acrobat. With heavy hessian bags slung across the saddle, they cause loud swearing as they weave through people with carrying poles or pulling wooden carts and the hawkers under the awnings. It is loud, colorful swearing which mingles with the general din of the hawkers’ calls, bargaining, joking and laughing. You breathe in the smell of soya sauce pickles, boiled pork, raw hide, pine wood, dried rice stalks and lime as your eyes busily take in the narrow shopfronts lining the street with products of the South. There are soya bean shops, oil shops, rice shops, Chinese and Western medicine shops, silk and cotton shops, shoe shops, tea shops, butcher stalls, tailor shops, and shops selling stoves, rope, pottery, incense, candles and paper money. The shops, squashed up one against the other, are virtually unchanged from Qing Dynasty times. The smashed signboard of the Ever Prosperous Restaurant has been repaired and one of the flat-bottomed pans used for frying its speciality guotie dumplings is beaten like a gong to announce it is back in business. The wine banner is again hanging from the upstairs window of the First Class Delicacies Restaurant. The most imposing structure is the state-run department store, a newly renovated three-storey concrete building. A single display window is the size of one of the old shops but the insides of the glass windows look as if they have never been cleaned. The photographer’s shop is eye-catching: photos of women in coquettish poses and wearing awful dresses are on display. They are all local beauties and not movie poster film stars from some place at the other end of the earth. This place really produces good looking women, every one of them is stunning. They have their beautiful cheeks cupped in their hands and their eyes have alluring looks. They’ve been carefully coached by the photographer but they are garishly dressed. Enlargements and color prints are available and there’s a sign saying photos can be collected in twenty days, apparently they have to be developed in the city. Had fate not otherwise decreed, you could have been born in this town, grown up, and married here. You would have married a beautiful woman like one of these, who would long since have borne you sons and daughters. At this point, you smile and quickly move off in case people imagine you’ve taken a fancy to one of the women and start getting the wrong idea. And yet it is you who are carried away by your imagination. As you look up at the balconies above the shops with their curtained windows and pots of miniature trees and flowers, you can’t help wondering about the people who live here. There’s a big apartment with an iron padlock on the door, the pillars are now crooked but the carved eaves and railings which have fallen into disrepair indicate how imposing the place was at one time. The fates of its owners and their descendants fill you with curiosity. The shop at the side sells Hong Kong style dresses and jeans, and the stockings on show have a Western woman showing off her legs on the packaging. At the front door there’s a gold-plated sign, “Ever New Technical Development Company”, but it’s not clear what sort of technical development it is. Further on is a shop with heaps of unprocessed lime, and further on still is probably a miller’s and next to that a vacant allotment where rice noodles are drying on wires strung between posts. You turn back and go into a small lane next to the hot water urn of the tea stall, then turning a corner you are again lost in memories. Within a half-closed door is a damp courtyard, overgrown with weeds, desolate and lonely, with piles of rubble in the corners. You recall the back courtyard with the crumbling wall of your childhood home. You were afraid but it had a fascination for you, for the fox fairies of story books came from there. After school, without fail, you would go off alone with some trepidation to have a look. You never saw a fox fairy but that feeling of mystery always lingered in your childhood memories. There is an old stone bench riddled with cracks and a well which is probably dry. The mid-autumn wind blows through the dry yellow weeds in the rubble and the sun is very bright. These homes with their courtyard doors shut tight all have their histories which are all like ancient stories. In winter, the north wind is howling through the lane, you are wearing new warm padded cloth shoes and are with other children stamping your feet by the wall. You can remember the words of the ditty: In moonlight thick as soup I ride out to burn incense For Luo Dajie who burnt to death For Dou Sanniang who died in a rage Sanniang picked beans But the pods were empty She married Master Ji But Master Ji was short So she married a crab The crab crossed a ditch Trod on an eel The eel complained It complained to a monk The monk said a prayer A prayer to Guanyin So Guanyin pissed The piss hit my son His belly hurt So I got an exorcist to dance. The dance didn’t work But still cost heaps of money Pale withered weeds and lush green new sprouts in the roof-tiles quiver in the wind. How long is it since you’ve seen grass growing in roof-tiles? Your bare feet patter on the black cobblestone street with its deep single-wheel rut, you’ve run out of your childhood back into the present. The bare feet, the dirty black feet, patter right there in front of your eyes. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never run barefoot, what is crucial is this image in your mind. After a while you find your way out of the little lanes and make it back on the highway. This is where the bus from the county town turns around to go back. There’s a bus station by the road with a ticket window and some benches inside, this is where you got off the bus earlier on. Diagonally across the road is an inn, a row of single-storey rooms, and the whitewashed brick wall has a sign “Good Rooms Within”. It looks clean and you have to find somewhere to stay, so you go in. An old attendant is sweeping the corridor and you ask her if there’s a room. She says yes. You ask her how much further is it to Lingshan. She gives you a cold look, this is a state-run inn, she’s on a monthly state award wage and isn’t generous with words. “Number two,” she says pointing with the broom handle to a room with the door open. You take your luggage in and notice there are two beds. On one there’s someone lying on his back, one leg crossed over the other, with a copy of Unofficial Record of the Flying Fox in his hands. The title is written on the brown paper cover of the book, apparently on loan from a bookstall. You greet him and he puts down the book to give a friendly nod. “Hello.” “Staying here?” “Yes.” “Have a cigarette.” He tosses you a cigarette. “Thanks.” You sit on the empty bed opposite. It happens that he wants to chat. “How long have you been here?” “Ten or so days.” He sits up and lights himself a cigarette. “Here buying stock?” you ask, taking a guess. “I’m here for timber.” “Is it easy getting timber here?” “Have you got a quota?” he asks instead, starting to become interested. “What quota?” “A state-plan quota, of course.” “No” “Then it’s not easy to get.” He lies down again. “Is there a timber shortage even in this forest region?” “There’s timber around but prices are different.” He can’t be bothered, he can tell you’re not in the game. “Are you waiting for cheaper prices?” “Yes,” he responds indifferently, taking up his book again to read. “You stock buyers really get to know about a lot of things.” You have to flatter him so that you can ask him some questions. “Not really.” He becomes modest. “The place Lingshan, do you know how to get there?” He doesn’t reply so you can only say you’ve come to do some sightseeing and is there anywhere worth seeing. “There’s a pavilion by the river. If you sit there you’ll get a good view of the other side of the river.” “Enjoy your rest!” you say for want of something to say. You leave your bags, find the attendant to register and set off. The wharf is at the end of the highway. The steps, made of long slabs of rock, go down steeply for more than ten metres and moored there are several black canopy boats with their bamboo poles up. The river isn’t wide but the riverbed is, clearly it’s not the rainy season. There is a boat on the opposite bank and people are getting on and getting off. The people on the stone steps are all waiting for it to come across. Up from the wharf, on the embankment, there is a pavilion with upturned eaves and curling corners. The outside is lined with empty baskets and resting inside are farmers from the other side who were here for the market and have sold all of their goods. They are talking loudly and it sounds like the language used in the short stories of the Song Dynasty. The pavilion has been painted recently and under the eaves the dragon and phoenix design has been repainted and the two principal columns at the front are inscribed with the couplet: Sitting at rest know not to discuss the shortcomings of other people Setting out on a journey fully appreciate the beauty of the dragon river You go around to look at the two columns at the back. These words are written there: On departing do not forget to heed the duckweed waters Turn back to gaze in wonder at Lingshan amongst the phoenixes. You’re intrigued. The boat is probably about to arrive as the people resting and cooling off have got up and are rushing to shoulder their carrying poles. Only an old man is left sitting in the pavilion. “Venerable elder, may I ask if these couplets.” “Are you asking about the couplets on the principal columns?” the old man corrects me. “Yes, venerable master, might I ask who wrote the couplets on the principal columns?” you say with added reverence. “The scholar Mister Chen Xianning!” His mouth opens wide, revealing sparse black teeth, as he enunciates each of the words with great precision. “I don’t know of him.” You’d best be frank about your ignorance. “At which university does this gentleman teach?” “People like you wouldn’t know, of course. He lived more than a thousand years ago.” The old man is contemptuous. “Please don’t make fun of me, venerable elder,” you say, trying to stop him ridiculing you. “You don’t need glasses, can’t you see?” he says pointing up to the beam at the top of the columns. You look up and see on the beam which hasn’t been repainted, these words written in vermilion: Erected during the Great Song Dynasty in the first month of spring in the tenth year of the Shaoxing reign period and repaired during the Great Qing Dynasty on the twenty-ninth day of the third month of the nineteenth year of the Qianlong reign period. Four. I set out from the hostel of the nature reserve and go back to the house of the Qiang retired village head. A big padlock is hanging on his door. This is the third time I’ve been back but again he’s not there. It seems that this door which can lead me into that mystical world has closed for me. I wander on in fine drizzling rain. It’s been a long time since I have wandered about in this sort of misty rain. I pass by the Sleeping Dragon Village Hospital, it looks deserted. The forest is quiet but there is always a stream somewhere not too far away, for I can hear the sound of trickling water. It’s been ages since I have had such freedom, I don’t have to think about anything and I let my thoughts ramble. There’s no one on the highway, and no vehicles are in sight. As far as the eye can see it is a luxuriant green. It is the middle of spring. The big deserted compound on the side of the road is probably the headquarters of the bandit chief Song Guotai mentioned by the reserve warden last night. Forty years ago, a single mountain road for horse caravans was the only access to this place. To the north it crossed the 5000-metre-high Balang Mountains into the Qinghai- Tibetan highlands and to the south it went through the Min River valley into the Sichuan basin. The opium smugglers from the South and the salt smugglers from the North all obediently put down money here to buy passage through. This was called showing proper respect. If there was a fuss and proper respect wasn’t shown, it would be a case of arriving and not returning. They would all be sent to meet the King of Hell. It is an old timber compound. The two big heavy wooden gates are wide open and inside, surrounded on three sides by two-storey buildings, is an overgrown courtyard big enough for a caravan of thirty or forty horses. Probably in those days, as soon as the gates were closed, the eaved balconies with their wooden railings would be thick with armed bandits so that caravans thinking of stopping the night would be trapped like turtles in a jar. Even if a shoot-out took place there wouldn’t have been anywhere in the courtyard to escape the bullets. There are two sets of stairs in the courtyard. I go up. The floorboards creak noisily and I deliberately tread heavily to show my presence. However the upstairs is deserted. One after another I push open the doors to empty rooms smelling of dust and mildew. Only a dirty grey towel hanging on a wire and an old worn shoe show that the place has been lived in, but probably some years ago. When the reserve was established the supply and marketing cooperative, local produce purchasing depot, grain and oil depot, veterinary clinic as well as the village administrative office and the personnel were all relocated in the narrow hundred metres of street built by the reserve administration where there is not a trace of Song Guotai’s hundred or so men and their hundred or so rifles once housed in this compound. In those times they would lie on rush mats smoking opium and fondling their women. These women, who had been abducted, had to cook for them in the daytime and sleep in turn with them at night. At times, either because the loot wasn’t shared equally or because of a woman, fights would break out and wild rioting probably took place on the floors of this very building. “Only the bandit chief Song Guotai could keep them under control. This fellow was ruthless and cruel, and renowned for his cunning.” The warden of the reserve does political work and he is eloquent and convincing. He says his lectures to university students here for practical work range from protection of the giant panda to patriotism and that his lectures can reduce the women students to tears. He says that amongst the women the bandits abducted there was even a soldier of the Red Army. In 1936, during the Long March, when a regiment of the Red Army was passing through the Mao’ergai grasslands, one of the battalions was attacked by bandits. The ten or so girls of the laundry detachment were abducted and raped. The youngest was seventeen or eighteen and was the only one to survive. She was passed around several of the bandits and eventually an old Qiang man purchased her to be his wife. She lives in a nearby mountain flatland and can still recite the name of her battalion, regiment and company, as well as the name of her commanding officer who is now an important official. He’s quite excited and says of course he can’t talk about all these things to the students, then goes back to talking about the bandit chief Song Guotai. This Song Guotai started out as a junior assistant, he says, for an opium merchant. When the merchant was killed by Big Brother Chen, the bandit chief who had taken over the district, he threw in his lot with the new boss. By wheeling and dealing he soon became Big Brother’s confidante and had access to the small courtyard where Big Brother lived at the back of the compound. The small courtyard was later blown up by the Liberation Army in a mortar attack and is now a mass of trees and shrubs. But in those years it was really a Little Chongqing, a replica of the wartime capital, where Big Brother Chen and his harem debauched themselves on sex and liquor. The only man allowed to wait on him was Song Guotai. A caravan arrived from Ma’erkang full of bandits who had been eying this strip of territory where all you had to do was to sit there waiting for the loot to come to you. A fierce battle raged for two days with deaths and injuries to both sides, but before any clear victory or defeat, they held peace negotiations and sealed an agreement in blood. The gates were opened and the other party invited inside. Upstairs and downstairs two lots of bandits joined in finger-guessing games and drinking liquor. Actually it was Big Brother’s plan to get the other side drunk so that he could deal with them swiftly. He got his mistresses to flit about from table to table with their breasts exposed. It wasn’t just the other bandits, who of either side could resist? Everyone was rotten drunk. Only the two bandit chiefs were still sitting upright at the table. As pre-arranged, Big Brother snapped his fingers loudly and Song Guotai came to pour more liquor. In one swift action, faster than it takes to tell this, he snatched the rival bandit chief ’s machine gun from the table and one bullet each sent the pair sprawling, Big Brother included. Then he asked: Anyone who doesn’t want to surrender? The bandits looked at one another, not one dared to utter so much as half a murmur of dissent. Song Guotai thereupon moved into Big Brother’s little courtyard and all the mistresses came into his possession. He tells all this with great drama, he isn’t boasting when he says he has the women students in tears. He goes on to say that in 1950 they came into the mountains to exterminate the bandits. The little courtyard was surrounded by two companies of soldiers. At daybreak they shouted to the bandits to put down their weapons, change their wicked ways and reform, and warned that there was a blockade of several machine guns at the main gate so no-one should try to escape. It’s as if he’d taken part in the battle himself. “What happened then?” I ask. “At first they stubbornly resisted so the little courtyard was bombarded with mortar. The surviving bandits threw down their guns and came out to surrender. Song Guotai was not amongst them. When a search was made of the little courtyard they only found a few weeping women huddled together. Everyone said the house had a secret tunnel which went up into the mountain but it was never found, and he has never shown up anywhere. It’s over forty years now, some say he’s still alive and others say he’s dead but there’s no real evidence, only theories.” He sits back into the round cane chair and tapping his fingers on the edge where his hands are resting, he begins to analyze these theories. “There are three theories about what happened to him. One is that after escaping he fled to another area, changed his name, and settled somewhere to work in the fields as a peasant. The second is that he could have been killed in the gun fight but the bandits wouldn’t admit to it. Bandits have their own set of rules, they may be embroiled in a terrible fight amongst themselves but they won’t divulge anything to an outsider. They have their own ethics, a code of bandit chivalry if you like, and yet on the other hand they are cruel and wicked. Bandits have two sides to them. The women had all been abducted but once they came into his lair, they became a part of the gang. They were abused by him and yet kept secrets for him.” He is shaking his head not because he finds it incomprehensible but because he is moved by the complexity of the human world, it seems. “Of course one can’t dismiss the third possibility that he fled onto the mountain, couldn’t get out, and starved to death.” “Do people get lost on the mountain and die there?” I ask. “Of course, and not just the peasants from elsewhere who come to dig for medicinal herbs. There are even local hunters who have died on this mountain.” “Oh?” This is even more intriguing. “Just last year a hunter went up the mountain and didn’t come back for ten or so days. It was only then that his relatives sought out the village authorities, and we were notified. We contacted the forestry police and had them send us tracker dogs. We got them to sniff his clothes and carried out the search by following them. Afterwards we found him caught in a crack in the rocks. He had died there.” “How did he come to be stuck in the crack in the rocks?” “Could’ve been anything, he probably panicked. He was hunting and hunting’s prohibited in the reserve. There’s also the case of a man killing his younger brother.” “How did this happen?” “He mistook his brother for a bear. The brothers had gone into the mountain to lay traps. There’s good money in musk. Laying traps has been modernized, a trap can be made with a small piece of wire pulled out of a steel construction cable and a person can lay several hundred in a day on the mountain. It’s impossible for us to supervise an area of this size. They’re all so greedy, it’s hopeless. The brothers went into the mountain to lay traps and in the process were separated. It would be superstitious to believe what the mountain folk say: according to them the brothers fell foul of black magic. The two of them bumped into each other after going in a circle around the top of the mountain. There was a heavy mist. The elder brother saw his younger brother, mistook him for a bear, and shot him with his rifle. The elder brother had killed the younger brother. He went home during the night and lay his and his brother’s rifles alongside one another by the bamboo gate of the pig pen so that his mother would see them when she got up to feed the pigs first thing in the morning. He didn’t go inside the house but went back up the mountain to where his brother lay dead and slit his own throat.” I leave the empty upstairs and stand for a while in the courtyard big enough for a whole caravan of horses, then head back to the highway. There still is no sign of people or vehicles. I look at the dark green mountain enveloped in a haze of rain and mist on the opposite side. A steep greyish-white logging chute is over there and the vegetation has been totally ravaged. Earlier on, before the highway was put through, both sides of the mountain would have been covered in thickly wooded forest. I am becoming obsessed with getting to the primeval forest at the back of the mountain and find myself drawn to it by some inexplicable force. The light drizzle gets heavier and turns into a thin film which completely enshrouds the ridge, obscuring the mountain and gully even more. There is the rumble of thunder behind the mountain, muffled and indistinct. Suddenly, I realize that the noise of the river below the highway is much louder, there is a perpetual roar as it charges endlessly at great speed from the snowclad mountains to pour into the Min River. It possesses an intimidating and violent energy not found in rivers flowing over flat country. Five. It is by the pavilion that you encounter her. It is an undefinable longing, a vague hope, it is a chance meeting, a wonderful meeting. You come again at dusk to the riverside, the pounding of clothes being washed reverberates from the bottom of the pitted stone steps. She is standing near the pavilion and like you she is looking at the mountain on the other side. You can’t take your eyes off her. She stands out in this small mountain village. Her figure, poise and enigmatic expression can’t be found among the local people. You walk away but she lingers in your mind and when you return to the pavilion she is no longer there. It is already dark and in the pavilion a couple of cigarettes glow from time to time as they are smoked, people are there quietly talking and laughing. You can’t see their faces, but from their voices you guess that there are probably two men and two women. They don’t seem to be locals, who always talk loudly whether they’re flirting or being aggressive. You go up and eavesdrop. It seems they are talking about what they have had to do to get away on this excursion: deceive their parents, lie to the head of the work unit, and think up all sorts of stories. Talking about it is such fun they can’t stop cackling with laughter. You’ve already passed that age and don’t have to be supervised by anyone, still you aren’t having as much fun as they are. They probably arrived in the afternoon, but as you recall there’s only the one morning bus from the county town. Anyway they probably have their own ways and means. She doesn’t seem to be among them and didn’t seem to be as cheerful as this crowd. You leave the pavilion and walk straight down along the river-bank. You no longer need to think about finding your way. There are several dozen houses by the river but only the last one, which sells cigarettes, liquor and toilet paper, has the half door-flap of the shop open. The cobblestone road swerves back towards the town and then there’s a high wall. In the weak yellow streetlight on the right, through the dark doorway, is the village administrative office. The tall buildings and large courtyard with a watchtower must once have been the residence of a rich and powerful family at one time. Further on is a vegetable plot fenced off with broken bricks and opposite is a hospital. Two lanes up is a cinema, built just a few years back, and now showing a martial arts movie. You’ve been around this small town more than once so you don’t need to go to see what time the evening session starts. The lane at the side of the hospital cuts through to the main street and comes out right opposite the big department store. You know all this perfectly, as if you’re an old resident of the town. You could even act as a guide if anyone wanted one, and you desperately need to talk with someone. You didn’t think that after dark there’d be so many people about on this small street. Only the department store has the iron door shut and the grill up and padlocked in front of the windows. Most of the shops are still open but the stalls that were out during the day have been put away and replaced by small tables and chairs or bamboo bed planks. People are out on the street eating and chatting, inside the shops watching television as they eat and chat, and silhouetted on the curtains of upstairs windows moving about. Someone is playing a flute and there are small children crying and yelling, every household is making its own full-blast din. Songs popular a few years ago in the cities are playing on tape recorders, tenderness laced with petulant lyrics alongside the beat of heavy metal electronic music. People sit in their doorways chatting with people across the street and it is at this time that married women in singlet and shorts and plastic slippers take tubs of dirty bath water to pour into the street. Gangs of adolescent boys are everywhere, deliberately brushing against the young girls strolling hand in hand. Suddenly, you see her again, in front of a fruit stall. You walk more quickly, she’s buying pomelos, which are just coming into season. You push in front and ask how much they cost. She touches the round unripe pomelo and walks off. You say, that’s right, they’re not ripe. You catch up to her. Like to join me? You seem to hear her agree, she even gives a nod which makes her hair shake. You had been nervous, terrified of a rebuff, you hadn’t imagine she’d agree so spontaneously. You instantly relax and you keep pace with her. Are you also here because of Lingshan? You should have been able to say something smarter than that. Her hair shakes again, then you begin to chat. On your own? She doesn’t answer. The front of the hairdresser’s shop is fitted with neon lights and you see her face. It’s youthful and that slight weariness is distinctly attractive. You look at the women with their heads under the dryers and getting their hair done and say that modernization has been most rapid in this. She looks away, laughs, and you laugh with her. Her hair covers her shoulders and is black and shiny. You want to say, you have lovely hair, but think it would be going a bit too far, so you don’t say it. You walk along with her, and don’t say anything else. It’s not that you don’t want to get on closer terms with her but that you can’t think of the right words to say. You can’t help feeling embarrassed and want to get out of this dilemma as quickly as possible. May I walk with you? Again, this is really a stupid thing to say. You’re really a funny person, you seem to hear her mumbling. She looks reproachful and yet approving. However you can tell she’s trying to look cheerful, you must keep up with her quick steps. She’s not a child and you’re no teenager, you try flirting with her. I can be your guide, you say, this was built in the Ming Dynasty and goes back at least five hundred years, you’re talking about the heat retaining wall behind the Chinese herbalist’s shop, one of the flying eaves of the gable curls upwards out of the darkness into the star-lit sky. There’s no moon tonight. In the Ming Dynasty, five hundred years ago, no, even just a few decades ago, to walk along this road at night you had to carry a lantern. If you don’t believe me you only have to go off this main street and you’ll be in pitch-black lanes. You don’t even have to go back a few decades, just take twenty or thirty paces and you’ll be back in those ancient times. While chatting you come to the front of the First Class Fragrance Teahouse where there are adults and children standing along the wall. You stand on tiptoes to look inside and stay there as well. The narrow door leads into the long teahouse where all the square tables have been put away. On the rows of benches are the backs of craning heads and right in the middle is a square table draped with a yellow-bordered red cloth: a storyteller in a robe with wide sleeves is seated on a high stool behind it. “The sun goes down, thick clouds hide the moon, and as usual the Snake Lord and his wife lead their pack of demons back to the Palace of Blue Vastness. On seeing the plump fair-skinned boys and girls and the lavish banquet of pork, beef and lamb, they are delighted. The Snake Lord says to his wife: This good fortune is due to you. Today’s birthday celebration is magnificent. One of the demons says: Today being her Ladyship’s birthday requires wind and string music and the Master of the Grotto has had to busy himself with these.” Bang! He slams his wooden clapper on the table, “Indeed, lofty aspirations produce ideas!” He puts aside the clapper and taking the drum stick strikes a few dull beats on the slack drum skin. In his other hand he takes up a tambourine threaded with metal bits which he slowly shakes so that it tinkles. Then in his old rasping voice he begins to explain: “The Snake Lord gives instructions and in all four quarters are activities which immediately transform the Palace of Blue Vastness with colorful decorations and a medley of wind and string instruments.” He suddenly raises his voice, “And, when the frog heard, it croaked loudly and the owl waved his conductor’s baton.” He deliberately imitates the recitation style used by TV performers and makes the audience roar with laughter. You look at her and both of you laugh. This is the happy face you’ve been hoping for. Shall we go in and sit down? You’ve found something to say. You lead her past wooden benches and peoples’ legs, find a bench which isn’t full and squeeze in. Just look at the storyteller trying to get the audience worked up. He’s standing up and banging his clapper again, very loudly. “The birthday salutations now begin! All the lesser demons,” he gaily hums as he turns to the left performing the actions of bowing with hands cupped together in salutation, then turns to the right to wave his hands and sing in the voice of the old seductress, “Thank you, thank you.” They’ve been telling this story for a thousand years, you say close to her ear. And they’ll still go on telling it. She seems to be your echo. Will they go on telling it for another thousand years? you ask. Hum, she replies, pursing her lips like a cheeky child. You feel very happy. “Let’s go back to Chen Fatong. He makes it to the foot of Donggong Mountain in three days, a journey normally taking seven times seven equals forty-nine days, where he encounters the Daoist Wang. Fatong bows in salutation and says: I have a request of the Venerable Master. The Daoist Wang responds with a salutation and Fatong asks: May I ask where the Palace of Blue Vastness can be found? Why do you ask? The demons there are really fierce. Who would dare go there? My surname is Chen and my name, Fatong, means ‘comprehending Buddha’s laws’. I have come especially to capture the demons. The Daoist Master heaves a sigh and says, young boys and girls have just been sent there today, they may already be in the Snake Lord’s belly. On hearing this, Fatong exclaims, I must go quickly to their rescue!” Bang! You see the storyteller raising his drum stick in his right hand and rattling the tambourine in his left hand. His eyes open wide until they show the whites and as he recites a chant his whole body begins to shake. You smell something, a subtle fragrance in the midst of the strong smell of tobacco and sweat, it’s coming from her hair and from her. There is the cracking of melon seeds as people eat the seeds with their eyes fixed on the storyteller, who has donned a monk’s robe. He is holding a magic sword in his right hand and a dragon’s horn in his left and talking faster and faster, as if he is spitting out a string of pearls. “Laying down three tim

Rahan. Episode Fifty Eight. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Andre Cheret. The God of happiness. While hollowing out the shell of a "wooden fruit", the son of Crao observed the meat that had been roasting on the fire. For a while, something intrigued him. The “Tears of Heaven” extinguish the flames. These, on the contrary, revive them! Each time a drop of fat fell on the flames they, in fact, became brighter! So the “white flesh” keeps the fire going!? Cries of fear tore him from his thoughts. A man, desperately clinging to a strange stump, was being carried away by the river! Page Two. Courage Brother! Rahan Never gives up on “Those-Who-Walk-Upright”! You don't know "Crawling on water". But Rahan will bring you back to the shore, you can let go! The Son of Crao had become a wonderful swimmer, and he quickly joined the man. No! No! Galaw has suffered too much to find the “God-of-Happiness”! He will not abandon Him to the river! The God of Happiness? The man's hands clenched on the curious stump as Rahan pulled him toward shore. A moment later he was saved, but, at last, he lost consciousness. Stupor froze the son of Crao, who had just turned over the stump. Oh! Page Three. If one side was perfectly flat, the other side represented a face. In the middle of the front, an arrow was stuck. A Shield? Rahan rejected the idea. The Half-Head was far too heavy to be a "Shield" Galaw spoke of the “God-of-happiness.” When Rahan had pulled out the arrow, the sculpted face even better expressed serenity and happiness. The fire was going out but the fat was still dripping into the hull of the “Fruit-of-wood.” Rahan will know if the juice from the "White Flesh" Burns as well as the herbs! Galaw had recovered his spirits. You risked your life to save Galaw! Who are you then? I am Rahan, son of Crao! Rahan will share his meat with Galaw! Page Four. With caution, he removed the burning shell from the embers. Galaw says he suffered to find the “God-of-Happiness.” Does Rahan have the right to expand his story? Rahan is from now on Galaw's brother! He will know! Oh, what? What? The son of Crao had just plunged a piece of lighted vine into the melted fat. The “Juice of the white flesh” did not burn, and Galaw was disappointed, already talking about his clan. Mine lived in peace, under the protection of the "God of happiness" but one day. Taking advantage of the absence of hunters "Those of the Endless Cave" invaded our village. Despite the courage of our women, they overthrew the sacred totem and seized the "Face of Happiness" that they had always coveted! Page Five. To take it back, Galaw and a hunter went, one night, to the “endless cave.” Look here Galaw! Here! Look! In the wooden hull, the vine soaked in grease burned imperceptibly. And the little clear flame still danced at its end! Was this day of wild times that of the first “Oil Lamp”? Who knows? Galaw can continue! Rahan listens to him! Galaw and his companion were able to recapture the “God-of-Happiness” But as they fled, "Those of the Cave" shot their arrows. Tarik was killed! For two days Galaw managed to escape from them. But the god of happiness made his escape difficult, and he ended up being surrounded by the river. Page Six. And Galaw preferred to surrender to the river, rather than let the “God-of-happiness” fall into the hands of sacrileges! Zlang! Chtok! The son of Crao had listened in silence. Eat Galaw! When the day comes again, Rahan will accompany you to your family! Night fell very quickly. The little flame still danced at the end of the vine strand. No torch could make light for that long! With this light "Those-who-walk-upright" could chase away the darkness from their huts and their caves! They would no longer fear the spirits of the night! Rahan observed the Great wooden face, peaceful under the moon. After the theft of this totem, did the curse hit your clan? Was the hunting less good? Page Seven. Oh no! Rahan suspected it. It is not a totem that ensures the happiness of a clan. Happiness is born from the courage of hunters! But Rahan respects the beliefs of his brothers and he understands what Galaw wanted. To return the god of happiness! Alas! I do not know if we can bring him back to my people! Listen! With his ear pressed to the ground, Galaw seemed anxious. The big “Lezarks” gather around the swamps! If they spread into the forest we are lost! The “Lizards”! The son of Crao knew these hideous monsters, half lizard, half crocodile. He imagined them, tearing themselves away from the fetid mud of the marshes. Page Eight. The strongest and bravest hunters can only flee from the "Lezarks"! Galaw and Rahan will leave at daybreak! What trap are you preparing? It is not a trap. The “Long-arms” will help us carry the “God-of-happiness”! At the first light of dawn the two men plunged into the forest. The travois, in fact, allowed them to easily drag the heavy half-head of the totem. My brothers live in this valley. We will be with them very soon! They will be grateful to Rahan for helping Galaw to return the “God-of-happiness”! Branches suddenly cracked behind them. The “Lezarks”!? No! “Those-of-the-endless-cave”! Page Nine. The hunters who burst forth brandished great bows. Run away, Galan! Save your “God-of-happiness”! While his companion disappeared into the thickets, the son of Crao, to protect his escape, charged towards the men! Ra-ha-ha! A volley of arrows made him realize that this reaction was insane! Chtok! Chtok! Chtok! Either "Fire-hair" is stupid, or he has lost his mind! We could have sent him to the “territory of shadows”! These hunters obviously did not seek to kill, but to give a warning. Rahan is not afraid of your arrows! The men's mocking laughter rang out as "Fire-hair" darted towards a tree. The bows rose again. Ha-ha-ha! Page Ten. Chtok! Clang! And, a few arrows stuck into the trunk, framing the son of Crao! Others, fired with stupefying skill, brushed against his skull, preventing him from climbing any higher! Chtok! Stok! Stop! Rahan surrenders! Ha-ha-ha! You have now become Reasonable “Hair of Fire”! Give us your weapon! Fraham waits! Annoyed at having been so easily captured, Rahan also wanted to prove his skill. So. But do not move! The ivory blade shaved the neck before burying itself in the quiver of skin. Fraham did not flinch! You deserve to belong to our clan, “Fire-hair”! Page Eleven. However, in the nearby valley, people were cheering the return of Galaw. Galaw brought back the “God-of-happiness”! Long life! Long live Galaw! If Galaw lives it is thanks to a “hunter with fiery hair”! His name is Rahan! It was he who saved Galaw from the river, and who helped him bring back the “God of happiness”. So! Why is this "Rahan" not with you? By protecting Galaw's escape, he undoubtedly fell into the hands of "Those-in-the-Cave"! The Clan's Duty is clear! We must save the fire-haired man! The clamor that arose greeted both these words. They almost forgot the tense face turned towards the forest, which embodied to them, the “god of misfortune.” And the men who readjusted the half-head of a large totem, and finally found the peaceful look of the “God-of-happiness”! Page Twelve. In the endless caverns the son of Crao appeared before the clan of Fraham. Why did Rahan protect Galaw? Because you stole the “God of Happiness” from his clan! Galaw lied! We took back the “God-of-happiness” because it belongs to us! It was our fathers' fathers who erected the great totem pole! Because we used to live in the valley. But Galaw and his people chased us away! And, yet we would have agreed to share with them the protection of “God-of-happiness”! The son of Crao smiled bitterly. He had then been deceived! Rahan will never again take sides without thinking! He was about to express his regrets when a man rushed into the cave. Those-from-the-valley are here! They are attacking! Page thirteen. They did not have time to bring down the huge gate. Galaw and his hunters were bursting in! We have just delivered “Hair of Fire”! And we're going to finish with yours, Fraham! It was tumult. Stop! “Those-who-walk-upright” must not fight each other like wild animals! But the screams drowned out Rahan's voice. On all sides, terrible hand-to-hand combat matched the men of Galaw to those of Fraham. And then, the furious clamors were, in turn, smothered by a crash of broken branches. The “Lezarks”! The “Lezarks” have come! Boom! And the “Lezarks” appeared! Page Fourteen. The vision of these monsters scared the most daring hunters. The hideous bodies rolled over each other, tangled together in a teeming mass which, eventually, spread out in front of the cavern. The “lezarks” can stay like this for moons and moons before returning to the swamps! And we will die of thirst and hunger! Faced with danger, the two clans forgot their quarrel. Why Die? This cave probably has other exits! Page Fifteen. Probably yes. But all those who have ventured into the belly of the earth have had to retreat before the darkness! The darkness? Rahan knows how to fight that! Rahan thought back to the “Fruit-of-wood” with the juice of the white flesh. The little flame danced at the end of the vine. And while he explained his project, the terrifying besiegers swarmed in front of the cavern. Only one "Lezark" must pass! Just one! The nearest monster rushed forward, forcing its way under the slowly rising grate. At the same time as the gate fell behind him, ten arrows pierced his scaly sides! Ra-ha-ha! We will have more white flesh than Rahan wanted! Page Sixteen. The son of Crao, shortly after, lit a fire on which he placed a large slab of slate. Skeptical, but intrigued, everyone obeyed his instructions. Let “Those-from-the-Cave” fuel the fire! Let “Those-of-the-Valley” prune the bamboos and cut the vine pieces! From the flesh of the butchered "Lezark", Rahan cut the fat which, thrown onto the hot slate, melted into a sickening odor. And this oily juice was collected in bamboo tubes, in which a wick-vine was immersed. And those of Fraham, like those of Galaw, were very soon masters of these lights which marvelously illuminated the roof of the cave. Forward, brothers! Let us attack the darkness! Page Seventeen. The “Endless Cave” deserved its name. The hunters of Galaw, and the Fraham clan had the impression of sinking into the bowels of the mountain. In this labyrinth with oozing walls they sometimes discover the remains of a daring person who, overcome by darkness, could not go any further! How long did they walk like this? No one would have been able to say it. But their anguish suddenly dissipated. Look! The sun awaits us! A moment later they overlooked a valley. Galaw and his people screamed. The devastated village that they saw was theirs! Women and children wandered between the destroyed huts and around the large toppled totem pole. Page Eighteen. A little after. When the “leazarks” appeared we were able to take refuge on the hill. But these monsters destroyed everything! Gravely, the two leaders observed the totem. Why do the clans constantly fight over the “God of Happiness”? Why not stay united as you were in the cave and under the mountain!? “Fire-Hair” is right! If Galaw admits that the "God-of-Happiness" belongs to everyone, we will bring ours to the valley! Galaw accepts! We will rebuild the village together! And we rebuild it on the hill, where the "Lezarks" never come! The first concern of the reconciled clans was to hoist the great totem to the height. Very soon, solid huts would rise around it. The son of Crao was certain that he knew what prodigious feats "Those-who-walk-upright" were capable of, when they were united in their efforts! Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html

Scanned by Highroller. Proofed by the best Elf proofer's Aunt. Made prettier by use of EBook Design Group Stylesheet. Formatted for Machine Text by PukeOnaPlate, 2023 Marching Through Georgia. By S M Stirling. CHAPTER ONE. "Finally in seventeen eighty-three, by the Peace of Paris. Great Britain made peace with the American revolutionists and their European allies. However, the revival of British naval strength in the last years of the war made Spain and France ready to offer a face-saving compromise, particularly when they could do so at the expense of the weakest partner in their coalition, the Netherlands. Franco-Spanish gains in the West Indies were to be balanced by allowing Britain to annex the Dutch Cape colony, which had been occupied in seventeen seventy nine to prevent its use by the French, almost as an afterthought, in an operation nearly cancelled. Poor and remote, the Cape was renamed after Francis Drake and used as a dumping ground for Britain's other inheritance from the American wan the Loyalists, tens of thousands of whom had fought for the Crown and now faced exile as penniless refugees. As early as seventeen eighty-one shiploads were arriving; after the Peace, whole regiments set sail with their families and slaves as the southern ports of Savannah and Charleston were evacuated. They were joined by large numbers of Hessian and other German mercenaries formerly in British service. Within a decade over 250,000 immigrants had arrived, swamping and assimilating the thin scattering of Dutch-Afilkaander settlers. 200 Years: A Social History of the Domination, by Alan E Sorensson, P-H-D. Archona Press, 1983. NORTH CAUCASUS FRONT, 20,000 feet. APRIL 14, 1942: Oh four hundred hours. The shattering roar of six giant radial engines filled the hold of the Hippo-class transport aircraft, as tightly as the troopers of Century A, First Airborne Legion. They leaned stolidly against the bucking, vibrating walls of the riveted metal box, packed in their cocoons of parasail and body harness, strapped about with personal equipment and weapons like so many deadly slate-grey Christmas trees. The thin, cold air was full of a smell of oil and iron, brass and sweat and the black greasepaint that striped the soldiers' faces; the smell of tools, of a trade, of war. High at the front of the hold, above the ramp that led to the crew compartment, a dim red light began to flash. Centurion Eric von Shrakenberg clicked off the pocket flashlight, folded the map back into his case and sighed. 0400, he thought. Ten minutes to drop. Eighty soldiers here in the transport; as many again in the one behind, and each pulled a Helot-class glider loaded with heavy equipment and twenty more troopers. He was a tall young man, a hundred and eighty centimeters even without the heavy-soled paratrooper's boots, hard smooth athlete's muscle rolling on the long bones. Yellow hair and mustache were cropped close in the Draka military style; new lines scored down his face on either side of the beak nose, making him look older than his twenty-four years. He sighed again, recognizing the futility of worry and the impossibility of calm. Some of the old sweats seemed to have it, the ones who'd carried the banners of the Domination of the Draka from Suez to Constantinople and east to Samarkand and the borderlands of China in the last war. And then spent the next twenty years hammering Turks and Kurds and Arabs into serfs as meek as the folk of the old African provinces. Senior Decu-rion McWhirter there, for instance, with the Constantinople Medal and the Afghan ribbon pinned to his combat fatigues, bald head shining in the dim lights. He looked at the watch again. Oh four oh five. Time was creeping by. Only two hours since liftoff, if you could believe it. I'll fret, he thought. Staying calm would drive me crazy. Christ, I could use a smoke. It would take the edge off; skydiving was the greatest thing since sex was invented, but combat was something you never really got used to. You were nervous the first time; then you met the reality, and it was worse than you'd feared. And every time after that, the waiting was harder. Eric had come to believe he would not survive this war many months ago; his mind believed it, at least. The body never believed in death, and always feared it. It was odd; he hated the war and its purposes, but during the fighting, that conflict could be put aside. Garrison duty was the worst. In search of peace, he returned to The Dream. It had come to him often, these last few years. Sometimes he would be walking through orchards, on a cool and misty spring morning; cherry blossoms arched above his head, heavy with scent, over grass starred with droplets of fog. There was a dog with him, a setter. Or it might be a study with a fire of applewood, lined with books with stamped leather spines, windows closed against slow rain. He had always loved books; loved even the smell and texture of them, their weight. There was a woman, too: walking beside him or sitting with her red hair spilling over his knees. A dream built of memories, things that might have been, things that could never be. Abruptly he shook himself free of it. War was full of times with nothing to do but dream, but this was not one of them. Most of the others were waiting quietly, with less tension than he remembered from the first combat drop last summer, blank-faced, lost in their own thoughts. Occasional pairs of lovers gripped hands. The old Spartans were right about that, he thought. It does make for better fighters, although they'd probably not have approved of a heterosexual application. A few felt his gaze, nodded or smiled back. They had been together a long time, he and they; he had been private, NCO and officer-candidate in this unit. If this had been a legion of the Regular Line, they would all have been from the same area, too; it was High Command policy to keep familiar personnel together, on the theory that while you might enlist for your country, you died for your friends. And to keep your pride in their eyes. The biggest drop of the war. Two full legions, First and Second Airborne, jumping at night into mountain country. Twice the size of the surprise assault in Sicily last summer, when the Domination had come into the war. Half again the size of the lightning strike that had given Fritz the Maikop oil fields intact last October, right after Moscow fell. Twenty-four thousand of the Domination's best, leaping into the night,"fangs out and hair on fire." He grimaced. He'd been a tetrarch in Sicily, with only thirty-three troopers to command. A soldier's battle, they'd called it. Which meant bloody chaos, and relying on the troops and the regimental officers to pull it out of the can. Still, it had succeeded, and the parachute chiliarchoi had been built up to legion size, a tripling of numbers. Lots of promotions, if you made it at all. And a merciful transfer out once Italy was conquered and the "pacification" began; there would be nothing but butcher's work there now, best left to the Security Directorate and the Janissaries. Sofie Nixon, his comtech, lit two cigarettes and handed him one at arm's length, as close as she could lean, padded out with the double burden of parasail and backpack radio. "No wrinkles, Cap," she shouted cheerfully, in the clipped tones of Capetown and the Western Province. Listening to her made him feel nineteen again, sometimes. And sometimes older than the hills, slang changed so fast. That was a new one for "no problems. "All this new equipment: to listen to the briefing papers, hell, it'll be like the old days. We can be heroes on the cheap, like our great-granddads were, shootin' down black spear-chuckers," she continued. With no change of expression: "And I'm the Empress of Siam; would I lie?" He smiled back at the cheerful, cynical face. There was little formality of rank in the Draka armies, less in the field, least of all among the volunteer elite of the airborne corps. Conformists did not enlist for a radical experiment; jumping out of airplanes into battle was still new enough to repel the conservatives. Satisfied, Sofie dragged the harsh, comforting bite of the tobacco into her lungs. The Centurion was a good sort, but he tended to, worry too much. That was part of being an officer, of course, and one of the reasons she was satisfied to stay at monitor, stick-commander. But he overdid it; you could wreck yourself up that way. And he was very much of the Old Domination, a scion of the planter aristocracy and their iron creed of duty; she was city-bred, her grandfather a Scottish mercenary immigrant, her father a dock-loading foreman. Me, I'm going to relax while I can, she thought. There was a lot of waiting in the Army, that was about the worst thing, apart from the crowding and the monotonous food, and good Christ but being under fire was scary. Not nice-scary like being on a board when the surf was hot, or a practice jump; plain bad. You really felt good afterward, though, when your body realized it was alive. She pushed the thought out of her head. The sitreps had said this was going to be much worse than Sicily, and that had been deep-shit enough. Still, there had been good parts. The Italians really had some pretty things, and the paratroops got the first pick. That jewelry from the bishop's palace in Palermo was absolutely divine! And the tapestry, she sighed and smiled, in reminiscence. There had been leave, too, empty space on transport airships heading south, if you knew the right people. It was good to be able to peacock a little, do some parrying, with a new campaign ribbon and the glamour of victory, and some pretties to show off. Her smile grew smug. She had been very popular, with all the sexes and their permutations; a change from ugly-duckling adolescence. Men are nice, definitely, she thought. Pity I had to wait 'til I reported to boot camp to start in on 'em. That was the other thing about the Army; it was better than school. Draka schooling was sex-segregated, on the theory that youth should not be distracted from learning and their premilitary training. Either that or sheer conservatism. Eight months of the year spent isolated in the countryside: from five to eighteen it had been her life, and the last few years had been growing harder to take. She was glad to be out of it, the endless round of gymnastics and classes and petty feuds and crushes; the Army was tougher, paratroop school more so, but what you did off duty was your own business. It was good to be an adult, free. Even the winter in Mosul had been all right. The town was a hole, of course, provincial, and all new since the Draka conquest in 1916. Nothing like the mellow beauty of Capetown, with its theaters and concerts and famous nightspots. Mosul, well, what could you expect of a place whose main claim to fame was petrochemical plants? They'd been up in the mountains most of the time, training hard. She flexed her shoulders and neck complacently. She'd thought herself fit before, but four months of climbing under full load and wrestling equipment over boulders had taken the last traces of puppy fat off and left her with what her people considered the ideal feminine figure, sleek, compactly curved, strong, and quick. Sofie glanced sidelong at her commander; she thought he'd been noticing, since she qualified for comtech. Couldn't tell, though; he was one for keeping to himself. Just visited the officer's Rest Center every week or so. But a man like that wouldn't be satisfied with serf girls; he'd want someone he could talk to. Or maybe it's my face? She thought worriedly, absently stripping the clip out of the pistol-grip well of her machinepistol and inserting it again. It was still obstinately round and snub-nosed; freckles were all very well, enough men had described it as cute, but it obstinately refused to mature into the cold, aquiline regularity that was most admired. She sighed, lit another cigarette, started running the latest costume drama over again in her head. Tragic Destiny: Signy Anders and Derek Wallis as doomed Loyalist lovers fighting the American rebels, with Carey Plesance playing the satanic traitor George Washington. God, it must have been uncomfortable wearing those petticoats, she thought. No wonder they couldn't do anything but look pretty and faint; how could you fight while wearing a bloody tent? Good thing Africa cured them of those notions. 0410, Eric thought. Time. The voice of the pilot spoke in his earphones, tinny and remote. "Coming up on the drop zone, Centurion," she said. "Wind direction and strength as per briefing. Scattered cloud, bright moonlight." A pause. "Good luck." He nodded, touching his tongue to his lip. The microphone was smooth and heavy in his hand. Beside him the American war correspondent, Bill Dreiser, looked up from his pad and then continued jotting in shorthand. Dreiser finished the paragraph and forced his mind to consider it critically, scanning word by word with the pinhead light on the other end of the pen. Useful, when you had to consult a map or instrument without a conspicuous light; the Domination issued them to all its officers, and he had been quick to pick one up. The device was typical of that whole bewildering civilization; he turned it in his hands, feeling the smooth careful machining of its duralumin parts, admiring the compact powerful batteries, the six different colors of ink, the moving segments that made it a slide rule as well. Typical indeed, he thought wryly. Turned out on specialized machine tools, by illiterate factory-serfs who thought the world was flat and that the Combine that owned their contracts ruled the universe. He licked dry lips, recognizing the thought for what it was: a distraction from fear. He had been through jump training, of course, an abbreviated version tailored to the limitations of a sedentary American in early middle age. And he had seen enough accidents to the youngsters about him to give him well-justified nightmares; if those magnificent young animals could suffer their quota of broken bones and wrenched backs, so could he. And they would be jumping into the arms of Hitler's Wehrmacht; his years reporting from Berlin had not endeared him to the National Socialists. He glanced across the echoing gloom of the cargo hold to where Eric sat, smoking a last cigarette. His face was impassive, showing no more emotion than it had at briefings around the sand table in Mosul. A strange young man. The eagle-faced blond good looks were almost a caricature of what a landed aristocrat of the Domination of the Draka was expected to be, so was his manner, most of the time. Easy enough to suppose there was nothing there but the bleakly efficient, intellectual killing machine of legend, the amoral and ruthless superman driven by the Will to Power whom Nietzsche had proclaimed. He had mentioned that to Eric, once. A useful myth, had been the Draka's reply. That had led them to a discussion of the German thinker's role in developing the Domination's beliefs; and of how Nietzsche's philosophy had been modified by the welcoming environment he found among the Draka, so different from the incomprehension and contempt of his countrymen. The Domination was founded by losers, Eric had said, letting an underlying bitterness show through. Ex-masters like the Loyalists and all those displaced European aristocrats and Confederate southerners, prophets without followers like Carlyle and Gobineau and Nietzsche. The outcasts of Western civilization, not the "huddled masses" you Yankees got. My ancestors were the ones who wouldn't give up their grudges. Now they're coming back for their revenge. Dreiser shrugged and brought his mind back to the present, tugging at the straps of his harness one more time. Times like this you could understand the isolationists; he had been born in Illinois and raised in Iowa himself, and knew the breed. A lot of them were decent enough, not fascist sympathizers like the German-American Bund, or dupes like Lindberg. Just decent people, and it was so tempting to think the oceans could guard American wholesomeness and decency from the iron insanities and corruptions of Europe. Not that he had ever subscribed to that habit of thought; it led too easily to white sheets and hatred, destroying a tradition to protect it. Or to the Babbirtry that had driven him to Paris in the 1920's; the America he returned to in the Depression years was more alive than Hoover's had been, finally acknowledging its problems. Trying to do something about the submerged third of the population, taking up the cause of the Negro abandoned during Reconstruction, reforming the Hispanic backwaters south of the Rio Grande, where annexation in 1848 had produced states free only in name. Dreiser ground his teeth, remembering the pictures from Pearl Harbor, oily smoke pouring to the sky from Battleship Row, the aircraft carrier Enterprise exploding in a huge globe of orange fire as the Japanese divebombers caught her in the harbor mouth. The United States had paid a heavy price for the illusion of isolation, and now it was fighting on its own soil, full-fledged states like Hawaii and the Philippines under enemy occupation. His prewar warnings of the Nazi menace had not been heeded, now his reports might serve to keep the public aware that Japan was not the only enemy, or the most dangerous of the Axis. "JUMPMASTERS TO YOUR STATIONS!" Eric's amplified voice overrode even the engines; there was a glisten of eyes, a hundredfold rattle as hands reflexively sought the ripcords. "PREPARE TO OPEN HATCH DOORS." "And step into the shit," came the traditional chorus in reply. Far to the south in Castle Tarleton, overlooking the Draka capital of Archona, a man stood leaning on the railing of a gallery, staring moodily at the projacmap that filled the huge room below. He was an Arch-Strategos, a general of the Supreme General Staff. The floor of the room was glass, twenty meters by thirty; the relief map was eerily three dimensional and underlit to put contrast against contour marks and unit counters. The mountains of Armenia extended in an infinity of scored rock, littered with the symbols of legions, equipment, airstrips, and roads; the red dots of aircraft crawled north toward Mt. Elbruz and the passes of the Caucasus. Stale tobacco scented the air, and the click-humm of the equipment echoed oddly in the unpeopled spaces. "Risky," he said, nodding toward the map. "Twenty legions of armor, thirty mechanized. Another sixty of Janissary motorized infantry. Six thousand tanks, twenty thousand infantry carriers, a thousand SP guns. Two million troops, and it all depends on two legions of paratroopers. North of the mountains, in an open-field battle of maneuver, we can take the Fritz. The Ivans are still holding hard east of the Volga, the Germans took on too much; they haven't got a strategic reserve to speak of. But butting our heads into the Caucasus, fighting our way over the mountains, inch by inch." He shook his head. "We can't afford a war of attrition; there aren't enough Draka; it would ruin us. And there may not be any limit to the number of serfs we can conscript for the Janissaries, but there are limits to the number we can arm safely." "War is risk," the officer beside him replied. The cat-pupiled eye of Intelligence was on her collar; she had the same air of well-kept middle age as he, and a scholar's bearing. "Breaking the Ankara Line was a risk, too, but it gave us Anatolia, back in seventeen. The general laughed, rubbing at his leg. The fragments from the Austrian antiairship burst had severed tendons and cut nerves; the pain was a constant backdrop to his life, and worse on these cold nights. Pain does not hurt, he reminded himself. Only another sensation. The Will is Master. "Then I was an optimistic young centurion, out at the sharp end, sure I could pull it out of the kaak even if the high command fucked it up," he said. "Now the new generation's out there, and probably expecting to have to scoop up my mistakes." "I was driving a field ambulance in sixteen, all you male lords of creation thought us fit for, then." He laughed. "We weren't quite so stretched for reliable personnel, then." The woman snorted and poked a finger into his ribs. "Hai, that was a joke, Cohortarch," he complained with a smile. "So was that, you shameless reactionary bastard," she retorted. "If you're going to insult me, do it when we're on-duty and I can't object." He nodded, and grew grim. "Well, we're committed to this attack; the Domination wasn't built by playing safe. There'll never be another chance like this. Thank the White Christ that Hitler attacked the Soviets after he finished off the French. If they'd stayed in Europe, we'd never have been able to touch them." She nodded, hesitated, spoke: "Your boy's in the first wave, isn't he, Karl?" The man nodded, turning away from the railing and leaning his weight against the ebony cane at his side. "Eric's got a Century in the First Airborne," he said quietly, looking out over the city. "And my daughter's flying an Eagle out of Kars." The outer wall was window from floor to ceiling; Castle Tarleton stood on a height that gave a fine view of the Domination's capital. The fort had been built in seventeen ninty-one, when the Crown Colony of Drakia was new. The hilltop had been for practical reasons, once: Cavalry had been based here, rounding up labor for the sugar plantations of Natal, where the ancestors of the Draka were settling into their African home. Those had been American loyalists, mostly southerners; driven from their homes by vengeful neighbors after the triumph of the Revolution. The British had seized the Cape from its Dutch masters during that war, and found it cheap enough to pay their supporters with the stolen goods of colonial empire. "Strange," Karl von Shrakenberg continued, softly enough to make her lean toward the craggy face. "I can command a legion handily enough, by Gobineau's ghost, I wish they'd give me a field command! Run my estate; I even get along well with my daughters. But my son. Where do the children go? I remember taking him from the midwife, I remember setting him on my shoulders and naming the stars for him, putting him on his first pony. And now? We hardly speak, except to argue. About absurdities: politics, books. When did we become strangers? When he left, there was nothing. I wanted to tell him, everything: to come back alive, that I loved him. Did he know it?" His companion laid a hand on his shoulder. "Why didn't you say it?" She asked softly. "If you can tell me?" He sighed wearily. "Never was very good with words, not that sort. And there are things you can say to a friend that you can't to your blood, perhaps, if Mary were still alive." He straightened, his eyes focusing on the world beyond the glass. "Well. This view was always a favorite of mine. It's seen a lot." Together they looked down across the basin, .conscious of the winds hooting off the high plateau at their backs, cold and dry with winter. The first small fort of native fieldstone had grown over the years, grown with the colony of Drakia, named for Francis Drake and heir to that ruthless freebooter's spirit. It was a frontier post guarding the ranches and diamond mines, at first. Railways had snaked by to the great gold fields of the Whiteridge; local coal and iron had proved more valuable still, and this was a convenient post for a garrison to watch the teeming compounds of serf factory hands that grew beside the steel mills and machine-works. Then the Crown Colony became the autonomous Dominion of Draka and needed a capital, a centrum for a realm that stretched from Senegal to Aden, from the Cape to Algeria. Lights starred the slopes beneath them, fading the true stars above, mansions with roofs of red tile, set in acres of garden. A monorail looped past, a train swinging through silently toward the airship haven and airport to the west, windows yellow against the darkness. A tracery of streets, sprawling over ridge and valley to the edge of sight, interrupted by the darker squares of parkland. Archona was the greatest city of the Domination, eight million souls. Through the center slashed the broad Way of the Annies, lined with flowering jacaranda trees, framed between six-story office blocks, their marble and tile washed snow-pale in moonlight. The Assembly building, with its great two hundred meter dome of iridescent stained glass; the Palace where Archon Gunnarson had brought law into conformity with fact and proclaimed the Domination a sovereign state, back in 1919. Karl's mouth quirked; he had been here in the Castle on that memorable day. The staff officers had raised a loyal glass of Paarl brandy, then gone back to their planning for the pacification of the New Territories and the next war. None of them had expected the Versailles peace to last more than a generation, whatever the American president might say of a "war to end war." Unconsciously, his lip curled in contempt; only a Yankee could believe something that obviously fatuous. "You grew up here, didn't you, Sannie?" he said, shaking of! The mood of gloom. "Ja,' she replied. "Born over there," she pointed past the block of government buildings, to where the scattered colonnades of the University clustered. "In the house where Thomas Carlyle lived. Nietzsche visited my father there, seemed to think it was some sort of shrine. That was a little while after he moved to the Domination. Anthony Trollope stopped by as well, they tell me. While he was researching that book, Prussia in the Antipodes, back in the 1870's. He was the one the English didn't pay any attention to, and then wished they had." They both smiled; it was an old joke in the Domination, that the British had been warned so openly of the Frankenstein's monster they had created by unleashing the Draka south of Capricorn. Their gaze lifted, to the glow that lit the northern horizon, the furnaces and factories of the Ferrous Metals Combine, stamping and grinding out the engines of war. The serfs of the industrial combines were being kept to their tasks; for the rest, there was little traffic. Mobilization among the citizens had left little of Archona's vaunted nightlife, and curfew kept the subject races off the central streets. "Well," he said, offering her an arm with a courtesy old-fashioned even in their generation of Draka. "Shall we see if, somewhere in this bureaucrat's paradise of a city, two ancient and off-duty warriors can find a drink?" He would face the waiting as he would any other trial; as befitted a von Shrakenberg of Oakenwald. Even if I'm the last, he thought, as his halting boot echoed through the empty halls of the fortress. Thump! Eric's parachute unfolded, a rectangle of blackness against the paling stars of dawn. He blinked; starlight and moonlight were almost painfully bright after the crowded gloom of the transport, silence caressed his mind. Straps caught at crotch and waist and armpits, then cradled him in their padding. Above him the night was full of thunder, as hundreds of the huge transports spilled their cargos of troops and equipment into the thin air, south and east still more formations bulked black against the stars, transports and glider-tugs. Chutes blossomed, sorted themselves into formations, turned to their destinations. A paratrooper lost velocity fast, the transports drew ahead and above quite quickly. Above a flight of Falcon Three fighters banked, their line stretching into an arc, moonlight glinting on the bubble canopies. Sharks of the sky. This is the best time, Eric thought, as the flight of transports vanished, climbing and turning for height and home, southward to their bases. Silence, except for the fading machines and the hiss of the wind through the silk. Silence over a great scattered cloudscape, castles and billows of silver under a huge cool moon; air like crisp white wine in the lungs, aloneness. A feeling beyond the self, peace, joy, freedom, in a life bound on the iron cross of duty, in the service of repression and death. There had been a few other times like this; making love with Tyansha, or single-handing a ketch through monsoon storms. But always here, alone in the sky. His hands were working on the lines, turning and banking; these new sail-chutes flew; like gliders. None of the old business of dropping all over the farmyard, where the wind and fate pleased. You could jump high and sail to your drop zone quietly, with no thunder of engines to announce you. And you could land soft; that was important. Paratroopers had to carry most of their equipment, as much again as their own body weight. With a load like that you could break your back just stepping into a ditch, if you weren't careful. The rest of the Century were forming up behind, wheeling like a flight of birds of prey; he saw with relief that the gliders, with their cargo of heavy weapons and specialists, were following. The Legion was dropping on the whole pass that took the Ossetian Military Highway through the mountains from north to south, but the bulk of it was landing at the southern end. The Second Cohort was the northernmost unit, and Century A was the point formation of Second Cohort. They would take the shock of whatever reaction force the Fritz could muster to relieve their cut-off comrades south of the mountains. Two hundred of them, to blunt the enemy spearheads, they were going to need that special equipment, and the thirty-odd specialists in the tetrarchy of combat engineers. Very badly. Now. The cloud cover was patchy, light and shadow. Southward, the main peaks of the Caucasus shone snow white. Below was a black-purple immensity of scree, talus-slope, dark forests of beech and holm oak, sloping down to a valley and a thread of road winding up into the mountains. On a map it was nothing, a narrow sliver of highland between the Black and Caspian Seas. Over it all loomed the great mass of Mount Elbruz; beyond it was the south slope, ex-Soviet Georgia; beyond that the Draka armored legions massing in the valleys of Armenia. The symbolism of it struck him, all Europe was in shadow, in a sense. From the Elbe to the Urals, there was a killing underway great enough to leave even the cold hearts at Castle Tarleton shaken. Eric had been a student of history, among other things, his mouth quirked at the supreme irony that the Draka should come as deliverers. Still, true enough, he thought, as his body automatically leaned and twisted to turn the parasail. The rule of the Domination was cruel and arbitrary, merciless in breaking resistance. But his people made war for land and booty, killed to enforce submission. What the Intelligence reports said was happening below was madness come to earth: slaughter for its own sake, an end rather than a means. The Fritz must be convinced they've won it all, he thought, as his eyes automatically scanned for the landing zone. There. He stooped, a giddy exhilarating slide across the sky, a breathless joy. For a moment he was a bird, a hunting bird, an eagle. Stooping on the world, feeling the air rushing past his wings. Be practical, Eric, he reminded himself severely. Once they grounded they would have only their feet, and the south slope of the mountains was German-held. But lightly, by the spearhead divisions of General Von Paulus' Sixth Army, itself the vanguard of Army Group South. They had fought their way across the Ukraine, through the great encirclement battles at Kiev and Kharkov, even with most of their armor up north for the attack on Moscow. The frantic Russian counterattacks had failed; the Panzers came south, ground down by a thousand miles of route-march over frozen wasteland and the costly destruction of Zhukov's Siberians. The offensive continued, on through the winter and the mud of spring; east to the Volga at Stalingrad, wheeling south and east to Astrakhan, south into the Kalmyk steppe, taking Maikop and Krasnodar, on to the Kuban. Now. Now they were a very long way from home, thousands of miles of mud trail, torn-up railway, scorched earth. Good troops, but exhausted, fought out, short of supplies. If the paradrop could hold the passes behind them, they could be crushed out of existence by waves of Janissary infantry, then the Draka armor would pour into the Russian plains, close to their bases, fresh, with superior weapons and limitless supplies, against enemies who had battered each other into broken-backed impotence. The ground was coming up fast; he could smell it, a wet green scent of trees and spring meadow-grass and rock. This area had been swarming with Draka reconnaissance planes for months; the contours were springing out at him, familiar from hundreds of hours poring over photomaps. He banked to get a straight run at the oblong meadow. Carefully now, don't get caught in that fucking tree line. Branches went by three meters below. He hauled back on the lines, turning up the forward edge of the parasail; it climbed, spilled air, slowed. With the loss of momentum it turned from a wing to a simple parachute once more, and good timing landed him softly on his feet, boots vanishing in knee-high grass starred with white flowers. Landing was a plunge from morning into darkness and shadow, as the sun dropped below the mountains to the southeast. And always, there was a sense of sadness, of loss; lightness turning to earthbound reality. Not an eagle any more, went through him. More like a hyena, a mordant part of his mind prompted. Come to squabble over the carcass of Russia with the rival pack. Swiftly, he hit the quick-release catches and the synthsilk billowed out, white against the dark grass. He turned, clicking on the shielded red flashlight, waving it in slow arcs above his head. The first troopers of his Century were only seconds behind him, grey rectangles against the stars. They landed past him, a chorus of soft grunts and thuds, a curse and a clatter as somebody rolled. A quick check, mapcase, handradio, binoculars, Holbars T-6 assault rifle, three 75-round drums of 5 millimeter for it, medikit, iron rations, fighting dagger in his boot, bush knife across his back. That was an affectation, the machete-sword was more a tradition than anything else, but. Dropping their chutes and jogging back by stick and section, rallying to the shouts of their decurions and tetrarchs, platoon-commanders, the troopers hurried to form in the shadows of the trees. The mottled grey of their uniforms was nearly invisible in the dim light, and their faces were white ovals beneath the rims of their wide-flared steel helmets. Sofie jogged over to her position with the headquarters communication lochos, the antennae waving over her shoulder; she had the headset on already, tufts of bright tow hair ruffling out between the straps. As usual, she had clipped her helmet to her harness on touchdown; also as usual, she had just lit a cigarette. The match went scrit against the magazine well of her machinepistol; she flicked it away and held out the handset. For Dreiser, leaving the airplane had been a whirling, chaotic rush. For a moment he tumbled, then remembered instructions. Arms and legs straight. That brought the sickening spiral to a stop; he was flying forward, down toward silver clouds and the dark holes between them. "Flying, hell, I'm falling," he said into the rush of cold wind. His teeth chattered as he gripped the release toggle and gave the single firm jerk the Draka instructors had taught. For a heart-stopping moment there was nothing, and then the pilot chute unfolded, dragging out the main sail. It bloomed above him, the reduction in speed seeming to drag him backward out of his fall. Air gusted past him, more slowly now that the parachute was holding. He glanced up to the rectangle above him, a box of dozens of long cloth tubes fastened together side by side, held taut by the rush of air. "The parasail functions as both a parachute and a wing," he quoted to himself." To acquire forward speed, lean forward. Steer by hauling on left or right cords, or by shifting the center of gravity." God, it's working. Blinking his eyes behind the goggles that held his glasses to his face, he peered about for the recognition-light. The aircraft had vanished, nothing more than a thrumm of engine noise somewhere in the distance. There it was, a weak red blinking: he shifted his weight forward, increasing the angle of glide. Cautiously; you could nose down in these things, and he doubted he could right it again before he hit. The meadow rose up to strike; he flung himself back, too soon, lost directional control, and barely avoided landing boot-first in another chute at a hundred feet up. Ground slammed into his soles and he collapsed, dragging. "Watch where yo' puttin' y'feet. Yankee pigfuckah," an incongruously young and feminine voice snarled as he skidded through tall grass and sharp-edged gravel on his behind, scrabbling at the release straps until the billowing mass of fabric peeled away to join the others flapping on the ground. He stood, turned, flung himself down again as the dark bulk of a glider went by a foot above his head, followed by a second. "Jesus!" he swore, as they landed behind him and collided with a brief crunch of splintering plywood and balsa. Boots hurdled him, voices called in throttled shouts. As he came to his feet, the meadow seemed to be in utter chaos, groups of Draka paratroopers dashing about, parasails still banking in, color-coded lights flashing. But visibly, the mass of men, women, and machinery was sorting itself into units, moving according to prearranged plans. Behind him the detachable nose of a glider broke free under enthusiastic hands and the ramp to the cargo-hold dropped; a pilot staggered down to sit cradling his head in his hands, while a file of troopers ran up to begin unloading crates. Dreiser walked toward the spot where the Draka commanders would be gathering, feeling strength return to his rubbery legs and a strange exhilaration building. Did it, by God! he thought. So much for being an old man at thirtyeight. Now, about the article, let's see: The landing showed once again the value of careful preparation and training. Modern warfare, with its complex coordination of different arms, is something new on this earth. Our devotion to the "minuteman" tradition of the amateur citizen-soldier is a critical handicap. Eric took the handset, silent for a moment as the gliders came in with a shush of parted air, guiding themselves down into the field marked with discarded parasails. Moonlight and predawn glow cast their wings in patterns of shade and light as flaps and slots opened to shed lift. Around him there was a holding of breath as the landing skids cut turf with a screeching of steel on gravel. The sailplanes slewed to a halt, the wing of one catching the other's tail with a crunch of plywood. A sigh gusted up as the detachable nose-sections fell away and figures began unloading. Sofie gently tapped his hand. "Set's workin' fine, Centurion," she said. "Got the Cohort Sparks already, green-beepers from all the handradios in the Century. want a smoke?" "Trying to give it up," he grunted, lifting the phone to his ear and clicking the pressure-button in his call sign. "You should too." He glanced at his watch: 0420 almost exactly. Forty-five minutes to dawn. "Hey, Centurion, do I complain about your baby girls?" she replied, grinning. The rest of the head-quarters tetrarchy were falling in around him: Senior Decurion McWhirter, two five-trooper rifle "sticks" who would double as runners, two rocket-gun teams and a heavy machine gun. They both fell silent as the hissing of static gave way to voices, coded sequences and barked instructions. Unconsciously, Eric nodded several times before speaking. "Yes? Yes, sir. No sir; just coming in, but it looks good." Reception was excellent; he could hear a blast of small-arms fire in the background, the rapid snarl of Draka assault-rifles, the slower thump and chatter of German carbines and MG 34's. "Ah, good." Then he and the comtech winced in unison. "The armor landed where? Sorry, sir, I know you didn't design this terrain. Right, proceed according to plan, hold them hard as long as I can. Any chance of extra antitank. Yes, Conortarch, I appreciate everybody wants more firepower, but we are the farthest north. Yes, sir, we can do it. Over and out, status report when Phase A is complete. Thank you, sir, and good luck to you, too." "Because we're both going to need it," he added under his breath as he released the send button. The Legion had had a Cohort of light tanks, Cheetahs with 75 millimeter guns in oscillating turrets. Those had apparently come down neatly in a gully. The gliders were emptying, stacks of crates and heavy weapons being lifted onto their wheeled carts. Paratroopers jumped with light weapons, their Holbars assault rifles, machine guns, machinepistols for techs and weapons teams, the 85 millimeter recoilless-rocket guns that served as tetrarchy antitank. The gliders held much of the Century's fighting power, trenchmortars, the 100 millimeter automortars, 120 millimeter recoilless guns, heavy machine guns, flame-throwers, demolition charges, ammunition. Not to mention most of their food and medical supplies. It would likely be all they had until the regular supply drops started. And already the trunks of the birches were showing pale in the light of dawn. A sudden sense of the. Unlikeliness of it all struck Eric. He had been born in the heartlands of the Domination, fourteen thousand kilometers away in southern Africa. And here he stood, on soil that had seen. How many armies? Indoeuropeans moving south to become Hittites, Cimmerians, Scythians, Sarmatians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Armenians, Arabs, Turks, Czarist Russians, Bolsheviks. And now a Century of Draka, commanded by a descendant of Hessian mercenaries, come to kill Germans who might be remote cousins, and who had marched two thousand kilometers east to meet him. What am I doing here? Where did it start? He thought. Such a long way to journey, to die among angry strangers. A journey that had lasted all his life. The start? Oakenwald Plantation, of course. In the year of his birth, and last year, six months ago. But that was the past, and the battle was here and now, an ending awaiting him. An end to pain, weariness; an end to the conflict within, and to loneliness. You could forget a great deal in combat. Eric von Shrakenberg took a deep breath and stepped forward, into the war. CHAPTER TWO. Napoleonic wars cut off imports, and industries had to be established if only because the mines were far inland; the need for a strong military-industrial complex maintained the pressure. Lack of navigable waterways led to an early development of steam transport and southern Africa proved to be rich in copper, iron, and coal, as well as precious metals. Gold prompted rapid expansion northward; plantation agriculture remained dominant, but increasingly, its markets were local. Steam-engine pioneer Richard Trevithick was only the first of many British engineers to find Drakia welcoming. With no local entrepreneurial class, the landed aristocracy stepped in to invest, followed by the State and the free-employee guilds: the social pattern of the countryside repeated itself in the growing industrial cities of the early nineteenth century. Outright enslavement of the natives was forbidden by the British, but the proto-Draka quickly developed a system of indentured labor and debtpeonage distinguishable only in name. 200 Years: A Social History of the Domination by Alan E Sorensson, P-H-D. Archona Press. 1983. ARCHONA TO OAKENWALD PLANTATION OCTOBER, 1941. The airdrop on Sicily had earned Eric von Shrakenburg a number of things: a long scar on one thigh, certain memories, and a field-promotion to Centurion's rank. When the First Airborne Chiliarchy was pulled back into reserve after the fall of Milan, the promotion was confirmed; a rare honor for a man barely twenty-four. With it came fourteen-day leave passes to run from October First, 1941, and unlike most of his comrades, he had not disappeared into the pleasure quarter of Alexandria. The new movement orders had already been cut: Draka Forces Base Mosul, Province of Mesopotamia. Paratroopers were cutting-edge assault troops; obviously, the High Command did not expect the de facto truce with Hitler to last. And that would be a more serious matter than overrunning an Italy taken by surprise and abandoned by its Axis allies. It was well for a man to visit the earth that bore him before he died. He would spend his leave in Oakenwald, the von Shrakenberg plantation, now that the quarrel with his father had been patched up. After a fashion. Travel space was scarce, as mobilization built toward its climax, but even in the Draka army it helped to be the son of an Arch-Strategos, a staff general. A place was found on a transport-dirigible heading south with a priority cargo of machine-parts; two days nonstop to the high plateau of southern Africa. He spent the last half-hour in the control gallery, for the view; they were coming in to Archona from the north, and it was a side of the capital free citizens seldom saw, unless business took them there. For a citizen, Archona was the marble-and-tile public buildings and low-rise office blocks, parks and broad avenues, the University campus, and pleasant, leafy suburbs with the gardens for which the city was famed. Beyond the basin that held the freemen's city lay the world of the industrial combines, hectare upon hectare, eating ever deeper into the bush country of the middleveld. A spiderweb of roads, rail-sidings, monorails, landing platforms for freight airships. The sky was falling into night, but there was no sleep below, only an unrestfulness full of the light of arclamps and the bellowing flares of the blast furnaces, factory-windows carpeted the low hills, shifts working round the clock. Only the serfcompounds were dark, the flesh-and-blood robots of the State exhausted on their pallets, a brief escape from a lockstep existence spent in that wilderness of metal and concrete. Eric watched it with a fascination tinged with horror as the crew guided the great bulk of the lighter-than-air ship in, until light-spots danced before his eyes. And remembered. In the center of Archona, where the Avenue of Triumph met the Way of the Armies, there was a square with a victory monument. A hundred summers had turned the bronze green and faded the marble plinth; about it were gardens of unearthly loveliness, where children played between the flower-banks. The statue showed a group of Draka soldiers on horseback, their weapons were the Ferguson rifle-muskets and double-barreled dragoon pistols of the eighteenth century. Their leader stood dismounted, reins in one hand, bush-knife in the other. A black warrior knelt before him, and the Draka's boot rested on the man's neck. Below, in letters of gold, were words: To the Victors. That was their monument; northern Archona was a monument to the vanquished, and so were the other industrial cities that stretched north a thousand kilometers to Katanga; so were mines and plantations and ranches from the Cape to Shensi. Eric slept the night in transit quarters; he got the bed, but there were two other officers on the floor, for lack of space. He would not have minded that, or even their insistence on making love, if the sexual athletics had not been so noisy. In the morning the transport clerk was apologetic; also harried. Private autocars were up on blocks for the duration, mostly; in the end, all she could offer was a van taking two Janissaries south to pick up recruits from the plantations. Eric shrugged indifferently, to the clerk's surprise. The city-bred might be prickly in their insistence on the privileges of the master caste, but a von Shrakenberg was raised to ignore such trivia. Also. He remembered the rows of Janissary dead outside Palermo, where they had broken the enemy lines to relieve the encircled paratroops. The roadvan turned out to be a big, six-wheeled Kellerman steamer twenty years old, a round-edged metal box with running boards chest-high and wheels taller than he. It had been requisitioned from the Transportation Directorate, and still had eyebolts in the floor for the leg shackles of the work gangs. The Janissaries rose from their kitbags as Eric approached, flicking away cigarettes and giving him a respectful but unservile salute; the driver in her grimy coverall of unbleached cotton bowed low, hands before eyes. "Carry on," Eric said, returning the salute. The serf soldiers were big men, as tall as he, their snug uniforms of dove-grey and silver making his plain Citizen Force walking-out blacks seem almost drab. Both were in their late thirties and Master Sergeants, the highest rank subject-race personnel could aspire to. They were much alike, hard-faced and thickmuscled, unarmed, here within the Police Zone, but carrying steel-tipped swagger sticks in white-gloved hands. One was ebony black, the other green-eyed and tanned olive, and might have passed for a freeman save for the shaven skull and serf identity-number tattooed on his neck. The Draka climbed the short, fixed ladder and swung into the seat beside the driver. While the woman fired the van's boiler, he propped his Priority pass inside the slanted windscreen that ran to their knees; that ought to save them delay at the inevitable Security Directorate roadblocks. The vehicle pulled out of the loading bay with the smooth silence of steam power, into the crowded streets; he brought out a book of poetry, Rimbaud, and lost himself in the fire-bright imagery. When he looked up in midmorning they were south of the city. Crossing the Whiteridge and the scatter of mining and manufacturing settlements along it, past the huge, man-made heaps of spoilage from the gold mines. Some were still rawly yellow with the cyanide compounds used to extract the precious metal; others were in every stage of reclamation, down to forested mounds that might have been natural. This ground had yielded more gold in its century and a half than all the rest of the earth in all the years of humankind; four thousand meters beneath the road, men still clawed at rock hot enough to raise blisters on naked skin. Then they were past, into the farmlands of the high plateau. He rolled down the window, breathing deeply. The Draka took pains to keep industry from fouling the air or water too badly; masters had to breathe and drink, too, after all. Still, it was a relief to smell the goddess breath of spring overtaking the carrion stink of industrial-age war. The fourlane asphalt surface of the road stretched dead straight to meet the horizon that lay around them like a bowl; waist-high fields of young corn flicked by, each giving an instant's glimpse down long, leafy tunnels floored with brown, plowed earth. Air that smelled of dust and heat ana green poured in, and the sea of corn shimmered as the leaves rippled. They spent noon at a roadside waystation that was glad to see him, Eric was not surprised, remembering how sparse passenger traffic had been. Most of the vehicles had been drags, heavy haulers pulling articulated cargo trucks, or plantation vans heading to the rail stations with produce, once there had been a long convoy of wheeled personnel carriers taking Janissary infantry toward the training camps in the mountains to the east. He strolled, stretching his legs and idly watching the herds of cattle and eland grazing in the fields about, listened to the silence and the rustling of leaves in the eucalyptus trees that framed the low pleasant buildings of colored brick with their round stained-glass windows; sat in the empty courtyard and ate a satisfying luncheon of fried grits, sausage, and eggs, not forgetting to have food and beer sent out to the van. The manager had time on her hands, and was inclined to be maternal. It was not until he had sat and listened politely to her rambling description of a son and daughter who were with the Fifth Armored in Tashkent that he suspected that he was procrastinating; his own mother had died only a few years after his birth, and he did not generally tolerate attempts at coddling. Not until he found himself seriously considering her offer of an hour upstairs with the pretty but bedraggled serving-wench was he sure of it. He excused himself, looked in the back window of the van, saw that one of the Janissary NCO's had the driver bent over a bench and was preparing to mount. Eric rapped on the glass with impatient disgust, and the soldier released her to scurry, whimpering, back to the driver's seat, zipping her overall with shaking fingers. It would be no easier to meet his father again if he delayed arrival until nightfall. Restlessly, he reopened the book; anticipation warred with. Yes, fear: he had been afraid at that last interview with his father. Karl von Shrakenberg was not a man to be taken lightly. The quiet sobbing of the driver as she wrestled with the wheel cut across his thoughts. Irritated, he found a handkerchief and handed it across to her, then pulled the peaked cap down over his eyes and turned a shoulder as he settled back and pretended to sleep. Useless gesture, he thought with self-contempt. A serf without a protector was a victim, and there were five hundred million more like this one. The system ground on, they were the meat, and the fact that he was tied on top of the machine did not mean he could remake it. And there were worse places than this, much worse: in a mine, or the newly taken Italian territories he had helped to conquer, to the drumroll beat of the Security Directorate's execution squads, liquidation rosters, destructive-labor camps. Shut up, he thought. Shut up, wench, I've troubles of my own! It was still light when they turned in under the tall stone arch of the gates, the six wheels of the Kellerman crunching on the smooth, crushed rock, beneath the sign that read: "Oakenwald Plantation, establish seventeen eighty-eight K von Shrakenberg, Landholder." But the sun was sinking behind them. Ahead, the jagged crags of the Maluti Mountains were outlined in the Prussian blue of shadow and sandstone gold. This valley was higher than the plateau plains west of the Caledon River; rocky, flat-topped hills reared out of the rolling fields. The narrow plantation road was lined with oaks, huge branches meeting twenty meters over their heads; the lower slopes of the hills were planted to the king-trees as well. Beyond were the hedged fields, divided by rows of Lombardy poplar: wheat and barley still green with a hint of gold as they began to head out, contour-ploughed cornfields, pastures dotted with white-fleeced sheep, spring lambs, horses, yellow-coated cattle. The fieldworkers were heading in, hoes and tools slanted over their shoulders, mules hanging their heads as they wearily trudged back toward the stables. A few paused to look up in curiosity as the vehicle passed; Eric could hear the low, rhythmic song of a work team as they walked homeward, a sad sweet memory from childhood. Despite himself he smiled, glancing about. It had been, by the White Christ and almighty Thor, two years now since his last visit. "You can't go home again," he said softly to himself. "The problem is, you can't ever really leave it, either." Memory turned in on itself, and the past colored the present; he could remember his first pony, and his father's hands lifting him into the saddle, how his fingers smelled of tobacco and leather and strong soap. And the first time he had been invited into his father's study to talk with the adults after a dinner party. Ruefully, he smiled as he remembered holding the brandy snifter in an authoritative pose anyone but himself must have recognized as copied from Pa's. And yet it was all tinged with sorrow and anger, impossible to forget, hurtful to remember, a turning and itching in his mind. He looked downslope; beyond that screen of pines was a stock dam where the children of the house had gone swimming sometimes, gods alone knew why, except that they were supposed to use the pool up by the manor. There, one memorable day, he had knocked Frikkie Thyssen flat for sneering at his poetry. The memory brought a grin; it had been the sort of epic you'd expect a twelve-year-old in love with Chapman's Homer to do, but that little bastard Thyssen wouldn't have known if it had been a work of genius. And over there in the cherry orchard he had lost his virginity under a harvest moon one week after his thirteenth birthday, to a giggling field wench twice his age and weight. And then there had been Tyansha, the Circassian girl. Pa had given her to him on his fourteenth birthday. The dealer had called her something more pronounceable, but that was the name she had taught him, along with her mother tongue. She had been. Perhaps four years older than he; nobody had been keeping records in eastern Turkey during those years of blood and chaos. There were vague memories of a father, she had said, and a veiled woman who held her close, then lay in a ditch by a burning house and did not move. Then the bayonets of the Janissaries herding her and a mob of terrified children into trucks. Thirst, darkness, hunger; then the training creche. Learning reading and writing, the soft blurred Draka dialect of English; household duties, dancing, the arts of pleasing. Friends, who vanished one by one into the world beyond the walls. And him. Her eyes had been what he had noticed first, huge, a deep pale blue, like a wild thing seen in the forest. Dark-red hair falling to her waist, past a smooth, pale, high-cheeked face. She had worn a silver-link collar that emphasized the slender neck and the serf-number tattooed on it, and a wrapped white sheath-dress to show off her long legs and high, small breasts. Hands linked before her, she had stood between his smiling father and the impassive dealer, who slapped her riding-crop against one boot, anxious to be gone. "Well boy, does she please?" Pa had asked. Eric remembered a wordless stutter until his voice broke humiliatingly in a squeak; his elder brother John had roared laughter and slapped him on the back, urging him forward as he led her from the room by the hand. Hers had been small and cool; his own hands and feet felt enormous, clumsy; he was hideously aware of a pimple beside his nose. She had been afraid, not showing it much, but he could tell. He had not touched her; not then, or in the month that followed. Not even at the first shyly beautiful smile. Gods, but I was callow, Eric thought in sadly affectionate embarrassment. They had talked; rather, he had, while she replied in tense, polite monosyllables, until she began to shed the fear. He had showed her things, his battle prints, his butterfly collection, that had disgusted her, and the secret place in the pine grove, where he came to dream the vast vague glories of youth. A month, before she crept in beside him one night. A friend, one of the overseer's sons, had asked casually to borrow her; he had beaten the older boy bloody. Not wildly, in the manner of puppy fights, but with the pankration disciplines, in a cold ferocity that ended only when he was pulled off. There had been little constraint between them, in private. She even came to use his first name without the "master," eventually. He had allowed her his books, and she had devoured them with a hunger that astonished him; so did her questions, sometimes disconcertingly sharp. Making love with a lover was. Different. Better; she had been more knowledgeable than he, if less experienced, and they had learned together. Once in a haystack, he remembered; prickly, it had made him sneeze. Afterward they had lain holding hands, and he had shown her the southern sky's constellations. She died in childbirth three years later, bearing his daughter. The child had lived, but that was small consolation. That had been the last time he wept in public; the first time since his mother had died when he was ten. And it had also been the last time his father had beaten him; for weakness. Casual fornication aside, it was well enough for a boy to have a serf-girl of his own. Even for him to care for her, since it helped keep him from the temptations that all-male boarding schools were prone to. But the public tears allowable for blood-kin were unseemly for a concubine. Eric had caught the thong of the riding crop in one hand and jerked it free. "Hit me again, and I'll kill you," he had said, in a tone flat as gunmetal. Had seen his father's face change as the scales of parental blindness fell away, and the elder von Shrakenberg realized that he was facing a very dangerous man, not a boy. And that it is not well to taunt an unbearable grief. He shook his head and looked out again at the familiar fields; it was a sadness in itself, that time healed. Grief faded into nostalgia, and it was a sickness to try and hold it. That mood stayed with him as they swung into the steep drive and through the gardens below Oakenwald's Great House. The manor had been built into the slope of a hill, for defense, in the early days, and it still gave a memorable view. The rocky slope had been terraced for lawns, flowerbanks, ornamental trees, and fountains; forest grew over the steepening slope behind, and then a great table of rock reared two hundred meters into the darkening sky. The manor itself was ashlar blocks of honey-colored local sandstone, a central three-story block fronted with white marble columns and topped with a low-pitched roof of rose tile; there were lower wings to each side, arched colonnades supporting second-story balconies. There was a crowd waiting beneath the pillars, and a parked grey-painted staff car with a strategos red-and-black checkerboard pennant fixed to one bumper; the tall figure of his father stood amidst the household, leaning on his cane. Eric took a deep breath and opened the door of the van, pitching his baggage to the ground and jumping down to the surface of the drive. Air washed over him cool and clean, smelling of roses and falling water, dusty crushed rock and hot metal from the van; bread was baking somewhere, and there was woodsmoke from the chimneys. The globe lights came on over the main doors, and he saw who awaited: his father, of course; his younger sister Johanna in undress uniform; the overseers, and some of the house servants behind. He waved, then turned back to the van for a moment, pulling a halfempty bottle out of his kit and leaning in for a parting salute to the Janissaries. They looked up, and their faces lit with surprised gratitude as he tossed the long-necked glass bulb; it was Oakenwald Kijafla, cherry brandy in the same sense that Dom Perignon was sparkling wine, and beyond the pockets of most freemen. "Tanks be to yaz, Centurion, sar," the black said, his teeth shining white. "Sergeants Miller and Assad at yar s'rvice, sar." "For Palermo," he said, and turned his head to the driver. She raised a face streaked with the tracks of dried tears from where it had rested on the wheel, glancing back apprehensively at the soldiers. "Back, and take the turning to the left, half a kilometer to the Quarters. Ask for the headman, he'll put you all up." A young houseboy had run forward to take Eric's baggage; he craned his head to see into the long cabin of the van after making his bow, his face an O of surprise at the bright Janissary uniforms. And he kept glancing back as he bore the valise and bag away. Eric paused to take a few parcels out of it, reflecting that they probably had another vo

Rahan. The son of the fierce ages. Episode fifty-seven. By Roger Lecureux, drawn by Guy Zam. The bridge of monkeys. The fast river was dug like a trench in the jungle, and the son of Crao watched the female “Four hands” which had just swung from one bank to the other. And who arched the strong line to allow her little ones to overcome the obstacle. Greek! Greek! The “Four-Hands” are sometimes as cunning as “Those-Who-Walk-Upright”. Page Two. Amused by the garland of young monkeys, Rahan did not see the stump coming towards him. Ah! He had the impression of lightning in his neck, and he was carried away by the current. Which, a moment later, projected him towards a nearby creek. He remained lying there, inanimate, with his face happily out of the water. When he regained consciousness, he found himself at the foot of a tree. His wrists were tied and his cutlass stuck in the trunk! Oh! He heard the growl of a feline and saw the puma, crouching in the grass, twenty steps away from him! The beast that observed him seemed ready to pounce. Wait “Puma”, wait, at least give Rahan a chance. Page Three. Very gently, so as not to excite the beast, the son of Crao got up, offered his bonds to the ivory blade. Rahan is ready “Pumak”! Attack and you will see that his claw is as formidable as yours! The puma took a step and picked itself up. It was going to pounce when. Back, “Taouk”! We don't know yet if this hunter is friend or foe! The old man who came out of the thickets made a sign and the docile beast came and snuggled up against his legs. It was Hangka who pulled you out of the water, “Fire hair”! Hangka tied your hands because he didn't know your intentions! Who are you? What clan are you from? Page Four. You do not have a clan, and Hangka was kicked out of his! Only Taouk remained faithful to him. The old man explains how and why he had been chased away by a warlike and cruel chief, Gahor-the-Savage, whose orders he contested. Gahor only keeps close to him those who prefer war to hunting! And these beings are terrorizing the entire territory! They kill and pillage without any mercy! This very morning they went to attack those of the stone tooth! Follow me and you will understand, Hangka lives like a hermit but, from up there, he sees a lot of things! Preceded by his puma, the old man leapt between the rocks with surprising agility. Page Five. And the son of Crao, shortly after discovered a strange landscape. Do you see this camp, on the “Stone Tooth”? As you see, we can only arrive at this by going around it through the forest. Gahor, his men and their Puma’s have set off at dawn. When they have crossed the forest, these unfortunate people from the "Stone tooth" will have no chance of escaping from them. Rahan will warn “Those of the Stone Tooth”! Gahor and his people are already far away! By the path of the "Four Hands" Rahan can catch up with the fastest hunters! You are generous, brother! Hangka wishes you could avoid a massacre! Crao's son disappeared into the foliage. His agility was such that he actually overtook Gahor and his warriors. Page Six. They were taking a pause, their spears stuck in the ground, their docile pumas at their feet. We do not know "Crawling on Water" but neither do "Those of the Stone Tooth"! They will therefore be trapped! None of them will escape us! These warriors had not set off again when Rahan was already fluttering towards the “Stone Tooth.” Cries of fear resounded when he emerged from the forest. Rahan is not an enemy! He comes to tell you to stay on your guard, because Gahor-the-wild is going to attack you! The son of Crao suddenly realized that this warning was useless. The “Stone Tooth” clan comprised only around ten hunters, with their wives and children. Page Seven. How could this handful of men resist the formidable tribe of Gahor! We often prayed that these monsters would spare our clan! But since Rahan saw them on the way to the "Stone Tooth" we are lost! Their Pumaks will slaughter our women and children! No, brothers! Nothing is ever lost! Rahan knows how to make the pumas back down! Fire! Grasping two flaming branches. The son of Crao rushed back into the forest, setting fire to a thicket here, to a bush there, and further to another. The wind was favorable and the high cliff at the "Stone tooth" was soon protected by a barrage of fire. Page Eight. Shortly after the fire raged, and presented Gahor's men with an impassable obstacle. The pumas! Hold them back! If these men did not fear the fire, they could no longer control their wild animals which, in panic, escaped from them and fled in all directions. We have gained time, but as soon as the fire goes out Gahor will attack us! What a pity that your people do not know how to “crawl on water”! They could have dived past the other side of this abyss! Oh! A vision suddenly imposed itself on the son of Crao. He saw the female "Four Hands” crossing the river with her young. What a “Four Hands” can do Rahan should be able to do it too! Page Nine. I Idea that he exposed was wildly audacious. Rahan is going to go over the other cliff! He will throw you vines that you will attach to these trees! During this time, let the women and children cut bamboos of this length! Lots of bamboo quickly, brothers! Quickly! Ra-ha-ha! The cry that accompanies his dive revealed no fear. It was the cry of Rahan taking action! If there were only hunters, a single vine would be enough. In safety on this side of the abyss he could only have thought of his fate. But the thought did not even cross his mind. Page Ten. But women and children must pass too! The long vines he cut were thick and too heavy to be thrown up to the stone tooth. But Rahan came across a very fine one which he weighed down with a stone. Catch it brothers! Rahan will attach a bigger one to its end! A moment later this thin vine made it possible to pull a much stronger one up to the stone tooth. Rahan would never have had the strength to throw it to the other side! When this vine was firmly attached on both sides, the son of Crao tied four others around his waist. It seems that this hunter wants to help those of the stone tooth! He could not have known that two warriors from Gahor, looking for their pumas, had just seen him. Page Eleven. The fire-haired man is as agile as a four-hands! We must alert Gahor! Let us kill him first! The son of Crao arrived in the middle of "Bridge" when the angry screams reached him. And he saw the men preparing to cut the vines with spears! Being rushed into the water worried him less to see so much effort called into question! But suddenly. Attack, Taouk! Attack! The unexpected and unanticipated intervention of old Hangka and his puma reversed the situation! One warrior of Gahor managed to escape but the other did not have time! Page Twelve. The fire will not hold Gahor back much longer! We must act quickly! Cheers from the clan greeted Rahan, as he reached the stone tooth and tied the vines to the trunks. And what seemed impossible was going to come true! Maintaining balance thanks to the line serving as a "Hand hold", Rahan cleverly wedged the bamboos. Between the vines which would support the deck of the “Bridge”. The lighter children took turns to supply him with bamboo. It was a delicate and perilous task. But the fragile footbridge took shape, and soon connected the two cliffs. However. And you saw Hankga and the “Fire-hair” enemy throw vines at those of the stone tooth!? I saw this, Gahor! And Hangka's "Puma" cut Taraou's throat! Page thirteen. You heard!? The fire has gone away and we are going to attack! Death to those of the stone tooth! Kill! Kill! The clamors reached the stone tooth as children and women evacuated it in small groups. And the hunters were about to take their turn on the bridge when the howling pack appeared. Come on, brothers! Rahan will stop them from cutting the vines! Armed with a long bamboo, the son of Crao Guarded the "Bridge" allowing the withdrawal of his companions. Gahor will kill you with his own hands! When they were safe on the other cliff, he launched the challenge. So, Gahor? Would you be afraid of coming to take Rahan's life? Page Fourteen. Gahor hesitated, but rage overcame him. In the middle of the fragile footbridge the duel to the death began. The bamboo and the spear collided. And suddenly. Ah! Ha-Ha-Ha! Farewell “Fire hair”! A crossbeam gave way under his feet, and Rahan seemed to be swallowed up. You should never have challenged Gahor, “Fire-hair." But the bamboo he hugged held him to the vines. He was now at the mercy of Gahor who raised his spear. On the other side of the abyss the clan of the stone tooth believed lost the one who had saved them. But Rahan, instinctively taking advantage of the new situation, caused such a pendulum movement on the bridge. Page Fifteen. That Gahor was thrown into the void. Ah! Gahor cannot crawl on water. He is going to join the territory of shadows! Death to the fiery-haired enemy! As he attempted to climb onto the bridge, the son of Crao saw Gahor's warriors rushing. To avoid the fate of their leader, they clung firmly to the "Hand hold." Kill! Kill! Rahan only had one final trick left. Destroy the pathway! Slipping his hand into the lace of his knife so that the weapon does not escape him. Page Sixteen. He energetically attacked the vines. What does it matter if Rahan falls with them! He knows how to crawl on the water! The footbridge, suddenly dislocated, disappeared under the men’s feet! Rahan secured his grip by cutting the last two vines. When the fibers gave way, there was drama. Under the sudden shock, these vines became tangled, encircling his wrist! And while the last warriors were thrown into the abyss, he himself remained suspended from half of the bridge which fell towards the cliff! Page Seventeen. The shock was incredibly violent. Flattened against the wall, without consciousness, he did not see those of the stone tooth. Cut the "Hand hold" from which a few the men of Gahor still hung. May the vines not unravel! And that life remains in him! He did not feel that he was very gently being raised up. The day had not come for the son of Crao to join the territory of shadows. And yet, when he came to, a puma was observing him! His fingers reached for the ivory weapon still laced to his wrist. Do not worry, Rahan Taouk means you no harm! Page Eighteen. Hangka the elder was there with those of the stone tooth. All of them were saved thanks to your audacity! And the warriors of Gahor? Gone forever under the water! But don't blame yourself! They were no longer men, but monsters! From now on, happiness will return to our territory! And Hangka will no longer live as a hermit since those of the stone tooth accept him into their clan! But, on behalf of everyone, Hangka would like to ask you a question. How did you imagine launching a path of vines over an abyss!? Which god inspired you with this extraordinary idea? It was not a god. Uh, only a “four hands”! The "Four Hands" often imitate "Those-Who-Walk-Upright". This time it was us who imitated the “Four-hands”! And the son of Crao, modestly, tried to prove that he had only copied monkeys! Index: https://rumble.com/v3486cm-rahan-index-of-episodes-by-roger-lecureux..html