JEROME CARDAN

[Illustration]

JEROME CARDAN

_A BIOGRAPHICAL STUDY_

BY

W. G. WATERS

"To be content that times to come should only know there was such a man, not caring whether they knew more of him, was a frigid ambition inCardan. "--SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 

[Illustration]

LAWRENCE & BULLEN, Limited, 16 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, London, MDCCCXCVIII. 

 RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON & BUNGAY. 

PREFACE

No attempt is made in the following pages to submit to historicaltreatment the vast and varied mass of printed matter which Cardan left ashis contribution to letters and science, except in the case of those workswhich are, in purpose or incidentally, autobiographical, or of those whichfurnish in themselves effective contributions towards the framing of anestimate of the genius and character of the writer. Neither has it seemedworth while to offer to the public another biography constructed on thelines of the one brought out by Professor Henry Morley in 1854, for thereason that the circumstances of Cardan's life, the character of his work, and of the times in which he lived, all appeared to be susceptible of moresuccinct and homogeneous treatment than is possible in a chronicle of thepassing years, and of the work that each one saw accomplished. At certainjunctures the narrative form is inevitable, but an attempt has been madeto treat the more noteworthy episodes of Cardan's life and work, and thecontemporary aspect of the republic of letters, in relation to existingtendencies and conditions, whenever such a course has seemed possible. 

Professor Morley's book, _The Life of Girolamo Cardano, of Milan, physician_, has been for some time out of print. This industrious writergathered together a large quantity of material, dealing almost as fullywith the more famous of the contemporary men of mark, with whom Cardanwas brought into contact, as with Cardan himself. The translations andanalyses of some of Cardan's more popular works which Professor Morleygives are admirable in their way, but the space they occupy in thebiography is somewhat excessive. Had sufficient leisure for revision andcondensation been allowed, Professor Morley's book would have taken a highplace in biographical literature. As it stands it is a noteworthyperformance; and, by reason of its wide and varied stores of informationand its excellent index, it must always prove a valuable magazine of_mémoires pour servir_ for any future students who may be moved to writeafresh, concerning the life and work of the great Milanese physician. 

An apology may be needed for the occurrence here and there of passagestranslated from the _De Vita Propria_ and the _De Utilitate ex Adversiscapienda_, passages which some readers may find too frequent and toolengthy, but contemporary opinion is strongly in favour of letting thesubject speak for himself as far as may be possible. The date and place ofCardan's quoted works are given in the first citation therefrom; those ofhis writings which have not been available in separate form have beenconsulted in the collected edition of his works in ten volumes, edited bySpon, and published at Lyons in 1663. 

The author desires to acknowledge with gratitude the valuable assistancein the way of suggestion and emendation which he received from Mr. R. C. Christie during the final revision of the proofs. 

_London, October 1898. _

JEROME CARDAN

CHAPTER I

LIKE certain others of the illustrious personages who flourished in histime, Girolamo Cardano, or, as he has become to us by the unwritten law ofnomenclature, Jerome Cardan, was fated to suffer the burden and obloquy ofbastardy. [1] He was born at Pavia from the illicit union of Fazio Cardano, a Milanese jurisconsult and mathematician of considerable repute, and ayoung widow, whose maiden name had been Chiara Micheria, his father beingfifty-six, and his mother thirty-seven years of age at his birth. Thefamily of Fazio was settled at Gallarate, a town in Milanese territory, and was one which, according to Jerome's contention, could lay claim toconsiderable antiquity and distinction. He prefers a claim of descent fromthe house of Castillione, founding the same upon an inscription on theapse of the principal church at Gallarate. [2] He asserts that as far backas 1189 Milo Cardano was Governor of Milan for more than seven years, andaccording to tradition Franco Cardano, the commander of the forces ofMatteo Visconti, [3] was a member of the family. If the claim of theCastillione ancestry be allowed the archives of the race would be stillfarther enriched by the name of Pope Celestine IV. , Godfrey of Milan, whowas elected Pope in 1241, and died the same year. 

Cardan's immediate ancestors were long-lived. The sons of Fazio Cardano, his great-grandfather, Joanni, Aldo, and Antonio, lived to be severallyninety-four, eighty-eight, and eighty-six years of age. Of these Joannibegat two sons: Antonio, who lived eighty-eight years, and Angelo, whoreached the age of eighty-six. To Aldo were born Jacopo, who died atseventy-two; Gottardo, who died at eighty-four; and Fazio, the father ofJerome, who died at eighty. [4]

Fazio, albeit he came of such a long-lived stock, and lived himself to befourscore, suffered much physical trouble during his life. On account of awound which he had received when he was a youth, some of the bones of hisskull had to be removed, and from this time forth he never dared to remainlong with his head uncovered. When he was fifty-nine he swallowed acertain corrosive poison, which did not kill him, but left him toothless. He was likewise round-shouldered, a stammerer, and subject to constantpalpitation of the heart; but in compensation for these defects he hadeyes which could see in the dark and which needed not spectacles even inadvanced age. 

Of Jerome's mother little is known. Her family seems to have been astenacious of life as that of Fazio, for her father Jacopo lived to beseventy-five years of age. Of his maternal grandfather Jerome remarks thathe was a highly skilled mathematician, and that when he was about seventyyears of age, he was cast into prison for some offence against the law. Hespeaks of his mother as choleric in temper, well dowered with memory andmental parts, small in stature and fat, and of a pious disposition, [5] anddeclares that she and his father were alike in one respect, to wit thatthey were easily moved to anger and were wont to manifest but lukewarm andintermittent affection for their child. Nevertheless they were in a wayindulgent to him. His father permitted him to remain in bed till thesecond hour of the day had struck, or rather forbade him to rise beforethis time--an indulgence which worked well for the preservation of hishealth. He adds that in after times he always thought of his father aspossessing the kindlier nature of the two. [6]

It would seem from the passage above written, as well as from certainothers subsequent, that Jerome had little affection for his mother; andalbeit he neither chides nor reproaches her, he never refers to her interms so appreciative and loving as those which he uses in lamenting thedeath of his harsh and tyrannical father. In the _Geniturarum Exempla_[7]he says that, seeing he is writing of a woman, he will confine his remarksto saying that she was ingenious, of good parts, generous, upright, andloving towards her children. Perhaps the fact that his father died early, while his mother lived on for many years, and was afterwards a member ofhis household--together with his wife--may account for the colder tone ofhis remarks while writing about her. She was the widow of a certainAntonio Alberio, [8] and during her marriage had borne him three children, Tommaso, Catilina, and Joanni Ambrogio; but when Jerome was a year old allthree of these died of the plague within the space of a few weeks. [9] Hehimself narrowly escaped death from the same cause, and this attack heattributes to an inherited tendency from his mother, she having sufferedfrom the same disease during her girlhood. There seems to have been bornto Fazio and Chiara another son, who died at birth. [10]

Jerome Cardan was born on September 24, 1501, between half-past sixo'clock and a quarter to seven in the evening. In the second chapter ofhis autobiography he gives the year as 1500, and in _De Utilitate_, p. 347, he writes the date as September 23, but on all other occasions thedate first written is used. Before he saw the light malefic influenceswere at work against him. His mother, urged on no doubt by the desire toconceal her shame, and persuaded by evil counsellors, drank a potion ofabortive drugs in order to produce miscarriage, [11] but Nature on thisoccasion was not to be baulked. In recording the circumstances of hisbirth he writes at some length in the jargon of astrology to show how thecelestial bodies were leagued together so as to mar him both in body andmind. "Wherefore I ought, according to every rule, to have been born amonster, and, under the circumstances, it was no marvel that it was foundnecessary to tear me from the womb in order to bring me into the world. Thus was I born, or rather dragged from my mother's body. I was to alloutward seeming dead, with my head covered with black curly hair. I wasbrought round by being plunged in a bath of heated wine, a remedy whichmight well have proved hurtful to any other infant. My mother lay threewhole days in labour, but at last gave birth to me, a living child. "[12]

The sinister influences of the stars soon began to manifest their power. Before Jerome had been many days in the world the woman into whose chargehe had been given was seized with the plague and died the same day, whereupon his mother took him home with her. The first of his bodilyailments, --the catalogue of the same which he subsequently gives is indeeda portentous one, [13]--was an eruption of carbuncles on the face in theform of a cross, one of the sores being set on the tip of the nose; andwhen these disappeared, swellings came. Before the boy was two months oldhis godfather, Isidore di Resta of Ticino, gave him into the care ofanother nurse who lived at Moirago, a town about seven miles from Milan, but here again ill fortune attended him. His body began to waste and hisstomach to swell because the nurse who gave him suck was herselfpregnant. [14] A third foster-mother was found for him, and he remainedwith her till he was weaned in his third year. 

When he was four years of age he was taken to Milan to be under the careof his mother, who, with her sister, Margarita, was living in Fazio'shouse; but whether she was at this time legally married to him or notthere is no evidence to show. In recording this change he remarks that henow came under a gentler discipline from the hands of his mother and hisaunt, but immediately afterwards proclaims his belief that the last-namedmust have been born without a gall bladder, a remark somewhat difficult toapply, seeing he frequently complains afterwards of her harshness. It mustbe remembered, however, that these details are taken from a record of thewriter's fifth year set down when he was past seventy. [15] He quotescertain lapses from kindly usage, as for instance when it happened that hewas beaten by his father or his mother without a cause. After muchchastisement he always fell sick, and lay some time in mortal danger. "When I was seven years old my father and my mother were then livingapart--my kinsfolk determined, for some reason or other, to give overbeating me, though perchance a touch of the whip might then have done meno harm. But ill-fortune was ever hovering around me; she let mytribulation take a different shape, but she did not remove it. My father, having hired a house, took me and my mother and my aunt to live with him, and made me always accompany him in his rounds about the city. On thisaccount I, being taken at this tender age with my weak body from a life ofabsolute rest and put to hard and constant work, was seized at thebeginning of my eighth year with dysentery and fever, an ailment which wasat that time epidemic in our city. Moreover I had eaten by stealth a vastquantity of sour grapes. But after I had been visited by the physicians, Bernabo della Croce and Angelo Gyra, there seemed to be some hope of myrecovery, albeit both my parents, and my aunt as well, had already beweptme as one dead. 

"At this season my father, who was at heart a man of piety, was minded toinvoke the divine assistance of San Girolamo (commending me to the care ofthe Saint in his prayers) rather than trust to the working of thatfamiliar spirit which, as he was wont to declare openly, was constantly inattendance upon him. The reason of this change in his treatment of me Inever cared to inquire. It was during the time of my recovery from thissickness, that the French celebrated their triumph after defeating theVenetians on the banks of the Adda, which spectacle I was allowed towitness from my window. [16] After this my father freed me of the task ofgoing with him on his rounds. But the anger of Juno was not yet exhausted;for, before I had fully recovered my health, I fell down-stairs (we werethen living in the Via dei Maini), with a hammer in my hand, and by thisaccident I hurt the left side of my forehead, injuring the bone andcausing a scar which remains to this day. Before I had recovered from thismishap I was sitting on the threshold of the house when a stone, about aslong and as broad as a nut, fell down from the top of a high house nextdoor and wounded my head just where my hair grew very thickly on the leftside. 

"At the beginning of my tenth year my father changed this house, which hadproved a very unlucky one for me, for another in the same street, andthere I abode for three whole years. But my ill luck still followed me, for my father once more caused me to go about with him as his _famulus_, and would never allow me on any pretext to escape this task. I shouldhesitate to say that he did this through cruelty; for, taking intoconsideration what ensued, you may perchance be brought to see that thisaction of his came to pass rather through the will of Heaven than throughany failing of his own. I must add too that my mother and my aunt werefully in agreement with him in his treatment of me. In after times, however, he dealt with me in much milder fashion, for he took to live withhim two of his nephews, wherefore my own labour was lessened by the amountof service he exacted from these. Either I did not go out at all, or if weall went out together the task was less irksome. 

"When I had completed my sixteenth year--up to which time I served myfather constantly--we once more changed our house, and dwelt withAlessandro Cardano next door to the bakery of the Bossi. My father had twoother nephews, sons of a sister of his, one named Evangelista, a member ofthe Franciscan Order, and nearly seventy years of age, and the other OttoCantone, a farmer of the taxes, and very rich. The last-named, before hedied, wished to leave me his sole heir; but this my father forbad, sayingthat Otto's wealth had been ill gotten; wherefore the estate wasdistributed according to the directions of the surviving brother. "[17]

This, told as nearly as may be in his own words, is the story of Cardan'sbirth and childhood and early discipline, a discipline ill calculated tolet him grow up to useful and worthy manhood. It must have been a wretchedspring of life. Many times he refers to the hard slavery he underwent inthe days when he was forced to carry his father's bag about the town, andtells how he had to listen to words of insult cast at his mother'sname. [18] Like most boys who lead solitary lives, unrelieved by thecompanionship of other children, he was driven in upon himself, and grewup into a fanciful imaginative youth, a lover of books rather than ofgames, with an old head upon his young shoulders. After such a training itwas only natural that he should be transformed from a nervous hystericalchild into an embittered, cross-grained man, profligate and superstitiousat the same time. Abundant light is thrown upon every stage of his career, for few men have left a clearer picture of themselves in their writtenwords, and nowhere is Cardan, from the opening to the closing scene, soplainly exhibited as in the _De Vita Propria_, almost the last work whichcame from his pen. It has been asserted that this book, written in thetwilight of senility by an old man with his heart cankered by misfortuneand ill-usage, and his brain upset by the dread of real or fanciedassaults of foes who lay in wait for him at every turn, is no trustworthyguide, even when bare facts are in question, and undoubtedly it would beundesirable to trust this record without seeking confirmation elsewhere. This confirmation is nearly always at hand, for there is hardly anoteworthy event in his career which he does not refer to constantly inthe more autobiographic of his works. The _De Vita Propria_ is indeed illarranged and full of inconsistencies, but in spite of its imperfections, it presents its subject as clearly and effectively as Benvenuto Cellini isdisplayed in his own work. The rough sketch of a great master oftenperforms its task more thoroughly than the finished painting, and Cardan'sautobiography is a fragment of this sort. It lets pass in order ofprocession the moody neglected boy in Fazio's ill-ordered house, thestudent at Pavia, the youthful Rector of the Paduan Gymnasium, plungingwhen just across the threshold of life into criminal excess ofSardanapalean luxury, the country doctor at Sacco and afterwards atGallarate, starving amongst his penniless patients, the Universityprofessor, the famous physician for whose services the most illustriousmonarchs in Europe came as suppliants in vain, the father broken by familydisgrace and calamity, and the old man, disgraced and suspected andharassed by persecutors who shot their arrows in the dark, but at the sametime tremblingly anxious to set down the record of his days before thenight should descend. 

Until he had completed his nineteenth year Jerome continued to dwell underthe roof which for the time being might give shelter to his parents. Theemoluments which Fazio drew from his profession were sufficient for thefamily wants--he himself being a man of simple tastes; wherefore Jeromewas not forced, in addition to his other youthful troubles, to submit tothat _execrata paupertas_ and its concomitant miseries which vexed him inlater years. To judge from his conduct in the matter of Otto Cantone'sestate, Fazio seems to have been as great a despiser of wealth as his sonproved to be afterwards. His virtue, such as it was, must have been theoutcome of one of those hard cold natures, with wants few and trifling, and none of those tastes which cry out daily for some new toy, only to beprocured by money. The fact that he made his son run after him through thestreets of Milan in place of a servant is not a conclusive proof ofavarice; it may just as likely mean that the old man was indifferent andcallous to whatever suffering he might inflict upon his young son, andindisposed to trouble himself about searching for a hireling to carry hisbag. The one indication we gather of his worldly wisdom is hisdissatisfaction that his son was firmly set to follow medicine rather thanjurisprudence, a step which would involve the loss of the stipend of onehundred crowns a year which he drew for his lectureship, an income whichhe had hoped might be continued to a son of his after his death. [19]

Amidst the turmoil and discomfort of what must at the best have been amost ill-regulated household, the boy's education was undertaken by hisfather in such odds and ends of time as he might find to spare for thetask. [20] What with the hardness and irritability of the teacher, and thepeevishness inseparable from the pupil's physical feebleness and morbidoverwrought mental habit, these hours of lessons must have been irksome toboth, and of little benefit. "In the meantime my father taught me orallythe Latin tongue as well as the rudiments of Arithmetic, Geometry, andAstrology. But he allowed me to sleep well into the day, and he himselfwould always remain abed till nine o'clock. But one habit of his appearedto me likely to lead to grave consequences, to wit the way he had oflending to others anything which belonged to him. Part of these loans, which were made to insolvents, he lost altogether; and the residue, lentto divers persons in high places, could only be recovered with muchtrouble and no little danger, and with loss of all interest on the same. Iknow not whether he acted in this wise by the advice of that familiarspirit[21] whose services he retained for eight-and-thirty years. Whatafterwards came to pass showed that my father treated me, his son, rightlyin all things relating to education, seeing that I had a keenintelligence. For with boys of this sort it is well to make use of the bitas though you were dealing with mules. Beyond this he was witty anddiverting in his conversation, and given to the telling of stories andstrange occurrences well worth notice. He told me many things aboutfamiliar spirits, but what part of these were true I know not; butassuredly tales of this sort, wonderful in themselves and artfully puttogether, delighted me marvellously. 

"But what chiefly deserved condemnation in my father was that he broughtup certain other youths with the intention of leaving to them his goods incase I should die; which thing, in sooth, meant nothing less than theexposure of myself to open danger through plots of the parents of the boysaforesaid, on account of the prize offered. Over this affair my father andmy mother quarrelled grievously, and finally decided to live apart. Whereupon my mother, stricken by this mental vexation, and troubled atintervals with what I deem to have been an hysterical affection, fell oneday full on the back of her neck, and struck her head upon the floor, which was composed of tiles. It was two or three hours before she cameround, and indeed her recovery was little short of miraculous, especiallyas at the end of her seizure she foamed much at the mouth. 

"In the meantime I altered the whole drift of this tragedy by a pretendedadoption of the religious life, for I became for a time a member of themendicant Franciscan brotherhood. But at the beginning of my twenty-firstyear[22] I went to the Gymnasium at Pavia, whereupon my father, feeling myabsence, was softened towards me, and a reconciliation between him and mymother took place. 

"Before this time I had learnt music, my mother and even my father havingsecretly given me money for the same; my father likewise paid for myinstruction in dialectics. I became so proficient in this art that Itaught it to certain other youths before I went to the University. Thus hesent me there endowed with the means of winning an honest living; but henever once spake a word to me concerning this matter, bearing himselfalways towards me in considerate, kindly, and pious wise. 

"For the residue of his days (and he lived on well-nigh four more years)his life was a sad one, as if he would fain let it be known to the worldhow much he loved me. [23] Moreover, when by the working of fate I returnedhome while he lay sick, he besought, he commanded, nay he even forced me, all unwilling, to depart thence, what though he knew his last hour wasnigh, for the reason that the plague was in the city, and he was fain thatI should put myself beyond danger from the same. Even now my tears risewhen I think of his goodwill towards me. But, my father, I will do all thejustice I can to thy merit and to thy paternal care; and, as long as thesepages may be read, so long shall thy name and thy virtues be celebrated. He was a man not to be corrupted by any offering whatsoever, and indeed asaint. But I myself was left after his death involved in many lawsuits, having nothing clearly secured except one small house. "[24]

Fazio contracted a close intimacy with a certain Galeazzo Rosso, a manclever as a smith, and endowed with mechanical tastes which no doubthelped to secure him Fazio's friendship. Galeazzo discovered the principleof the water-screw of Archimedes before the description of the same, written in the books of the inventor, had been published. He also madeswords which could be bent as if they were of lead, and sharp enough tocut iron like wood. He performed a more wonderful feat in fashioning ironbreast-plates which would resist the impact of red-hot missiles. In the_De Sapientia_, Cardan records that when Galeazzo perfected hiswater-screw, he lost his wits for joy. 

Fazio took no trouble to teach his son Latin, [25] though the learnedlanguage would have been just as necessary for the study of jurisprudenceas for any other liberal calling, and Jerome did not begin to study itsystematically till he was past nineteen years of age. Through some whimor prejudice the old man refused for some time to allow the boy to go tothe University, and when at last he gave his consent he still fought hardto compel Jerome to qualify himself in jurisprudence; but here he foundhimself at issue with a will more stubborn than his own. Cardan writes:"From my earliest youth I let every action of mine be regulated in view ofthe after course of my life, and I deemed that as a career medicine wouldserve my purpose far better than law, being more appropriate for the end Ihad in view, of greater interest to the world at large, and likely to lastas long as time itself. At the same time I regarded it as a study whichembodied the nobler principles, and rested upon the ground of reason (thatis upon the eternal laws of Nature) rather than upon the sanction of humanopinion. On this account I took up medicine rather than jurisprudence, nayI almost entirely cast aside, or even fled from the company of thosefriends of mine who followed the law, rejecting at the same time wealthand power and honour. My father, when he heard that I had abandoned thestudy of law to follow philosophy, wept in my presence, and grieved amainthat I would not settle down to the study of his own subject. He deemedit the more salutary discipline--proofs of which opinion he would oftenbring forward out of Aristotle--that it was better adapted for theacquisition of power and riches; and that it would help me moreefficiently in restoring the fortunes of our house. He perceived moreoverthat the office of teaching in the schools of the city, together with itsaccompanying salary of a hundred crowns which he had enjoyed for so manyyears, would not be handed on to me, as he had hoped, and he saw that astranger would succeed to the same. Nor was that commentary of hisdestined ever to see the light or to be illustrated by my notes. Earlierin life he had nourished a hope that his name might become illustrious asthe emendator of the 'Commentaries of John, Archbishop of Canterbury onOptics and Perspective. '[26] Indeed the following verses were printedthereanent:

 'Hoc Cardana viro gaudet domus: omnia novit Unus: habent nullum saecula nostra parem. '

"These words may be taken as a sort of augury referring rather to certainother men about to set forth to do their work in the world, than to myfather, who, except in the department of jurisprudence (of which indeedrumour says that he was a master), never let his mind take in aught thatwas new. The rudiments of mathematics were all that he possessed, and hegathered no fresh knowledge from the store-houses of Greek learning. Thisdisposition in him was probably produced by the vast multitude of subjectsto be mastered, and by his infirmity of purpose, rather than by any lackof natural parts, or by idleness or by defect of judgment; vices to whichhe was in no way addicted. But I, being firmly set upon the object of mywishes, for the reasons given above, and because I perceived that myfather had achieved only moderate success--though he had encountered butfew hindrances--remained unconvinced by any of his exhortations. "[27]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Bayle is unwilling to admit Cardan's illegitimate birth. In _DeConsolatione_, Opera, tom. I. P. 619 (Lyons, 1663), Cardan writes inreference to the action of the Milanese College of Physicians: "Medicorumcollegium, suspitione obortâ, quòd (tam malè à patre tractatus) spuriusessem, repellebat. " Bayle apparently had not read the _De Consolatione_, as he quotes the sentence as the work of a modern writer, and affirms thatthe word "suspitio" would not have been used had the fact been notorious. But in the _Dialogus de Morte_, Opera, tom. I. P. 676, Cardan declaresthat his father openly spoke of him as a bastard. 

[2] _De Utilitate ex adversis Capienda_ (Franeker, 1648), p. 357. 

[3] Matteo Visconti was born in 1250, and died in 1322. He was lord ofNovara Vercello Como and Monferrato, and was made Vicar Imperial byAdolphus of Nassau. Though he was worsted in his conflict with John XXII. He did much to lay the foundations of his family. 

[4] _De Vita Propria_ (Amsterdam, 1654), ch. I. P. 4. 

[5] Cardan makes a statement in _De Consolatione_, Opera, tom. I. P. 605, which indicates that her disposition was not a happy one. "Matrem meamClaram Micheriam, juvenem vidi, cum admodum puer essem, meminique hancdicere solitam, Utinam si Deo placuisset, extincta forem in infantia. "

[6] _De Vita Propria_, ch. I. P. 4. 

[7] _Geniturarum Exempla_ (Basil, 1554), p. 436. 

[8] _De Rerum Varietate_ (Basil, 1557), p. 655. 

[9] _De Utilitate_, p. 347. There is a passage in _Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 435, dealing with Fazio's horoscope, which may be taken to mean thatthese children were his. "Alios habuisse filios qui obierint ipsa genituradem[o=]strat, me solo diu post eti[a=] illius mort[e=] superstite. "

[10] With regard to the union of his parents he writes: "Uxorem vix duxitob Lunam afflictam et eam in senectute. "--_Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 435. 

[11] "Igitur ut ab initio exordiar, in pestilentia conceptus, matrem, nondum natus (ut puto) mearum calamitatum participem, profugamhabui. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 618. 

"Mater ut abortiret medicamentum abortivum dum in utero essem, alienomandato bibit. "--_De Utilitate_, p. 347. 

[12] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Ii. P. 6. 

[13] In one passage, _De Utilitate_, p. 348, he sums up his physicalmisfortunes: "Hydrope, febribus, aliisque morbis conflictatus sum, donecsub fine octavi anni ex dysenteria ac febre usque ad mortis liminaperveni, pulsavi ostium sed non aperuere qui intro erant. "

[14] "Inde lac praegnantis hausi per varias nutrices lactatus acjactatus. "--_De Utilitate_, p. 348. 

[15] The _De Vita Propria_, the chief authority for these remarks, waswritten by Cardan in Rome shortly before his death. 

[16] The illness would have occurred about October 1508, and the victoryof the Adda was on May 14, 1509. This fact fixes his birth in 1501, andshows that his illness must have lasted six or seven months. 

[17] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. Ii. 

[18] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 676. 

[19] "Quod munus profitendi institutiones in urbe ipsa cum honorariocentum coronatorum, quo jam tot annis gaudebat, non in me (ut speraverat)transiturum intelligebat. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. X. P. 35. 

[20] "Pater jam antè concesserat ut Geometriæ et Dialecticæ operam darem, in quo (quanquam præter paucas admonitiones, librosque, ac licentiam, nullum aliud auxilium præbuerit) eas tamen ego (succicivis temporibusstudens) interim feliciter sum assecutus. "--_De Consolatione_, Opera, tom. I. P. 619. 

[21] "Facius Cardanus dæmonem ætherium, ut ipse dicebat, diu familiaremhabuit; qui quamdiu conjuratione usus est, vera illi dabat responsa, cùmautem illam exussisset, veniebat quidem, sed responsa falsa dabat. Tenuitigitur annis, ni fallor, vinginti octo cum conjuratione, solutum autemcirciter quinque. "--_De Varietate_, p. 629. 

In the _Dialogus Tetim_ (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 672), Cardan writes: "Paterhoneste obiit et ex senio, sed multo antea eum Genius ille reliquerat. "

[22] There is a discrepancy between this date and the one given in _DeVita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 11. "Anno exacto XIX contuli me in TicinensemAcademiam. "

[23] "Inde (desiderium augente absentiâ) mortuus est, sæviente peste, cùmprimum me diligere coepisset. "--_De Consolatione_, Opera, tom. I. P. 619. 

[24] _De Utilitate_, p. 348. 

[25] "Nimis satis fuit defuisse tot, memoriam, linguam Latinam peradolescentiam. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Li. P. 218. 

[26] John Peckham was a Franciscan friar, and was nominated to the see ofCanterbury by Nicholas III. In 1279. He had spent much time in the conventof his Order at Oxford, and there is a legend connecting him with aJohannes Juvenis or John of London, a youth who had attracted theattention and benevolence of Roger Bacon. This Johannes became one of thefirst mathematicians and opticians of the age, and was sent to Rome byBacon, who entrusted to him the works which he was sending to Pope ClementIV. There is no reason for this view beyond the fact that both were calledJohn, and distinguished in the same branches of learning. The _PerspectivaCommunis_ was his principal work; it does not deal with perspective as nowunderstood, but with elementary propositions of optics. It was firstprinted in Milan in or about 1482. 

[27] _De Vita Propria_, ch. X. P. 34. A remark in _De Sapientia_, Opera, tom. I. P. 578, suggests that Fazio began life as a physician: "Pater meusFacius Cardanus Medicus primò, inde Jurisconsultus factus est. "

CHAPTER II

THE University of Pavia to which Jerome now betook himself was bytradition one of the learned foundations of Charlemagne. [28] It hadcertainly enjoyed a high reputation all through the Middle Ages, and hadrecently had the honour of numbering Laurentius Valla amongst itsprofessors. In 1362, Galeazzo Visconti had obtained a charter for it fromthe Emperor Charles IV. , and that it had become a place of consequence in1400 is proved by the fact that, besides maintaining several professors inthe Canon Law, it supported thirteen in Civil Law, five in Medicine, threein Philosophy, and one each in Astrology, Greek, and Eloquence. Like allthe other Universities of Northern Italy, it suffered occasional eclipseor even extinction on account of the constant war and desolation whichvexed these parts almost without intermission during the years followingthe formation of the League of Cambrai. Indeed, as recently as 1500, thefamous library collected by Petrarch, and presented by Gian GaleazzoVisconti to the University, was carried off by the French. [29]

To judge from the pictures which the Pavian student, writing in afteryears, gives of his physical self, it may be inferred that he wasill-endowed by the Graces. "I am of middle height. My chest is somewhatnarrow and my arms exceedingly thin: my right hand is the more grosslyfashioned of the two, so that a chiromantist might have set me down asrude or doltish: indeed, should such an one examine my hand, he would beashamed to say what he thought. In it the line of life is short, and thatnamed after Saturn long and well marked. My left hand, however, is seemly, with fingers long, tapering, and well-set, and shining nails. My neck islonger and thinner than the rule, my chin is divided, my lower lip thickand pendulous, my eyes are very small, and it is my wont to keep themhalf-closed, peradventure lest I should discern things over clearly. Myforehead is wide and bare of hair where it meets the temples. My hair andbeard are both of them yellow in tint, and both as a rule kept close cut. My chin, which as I have said already is marked by a division, is coveredin its lower part with a thick growth of long hair. My habit is to speakin a highly-pitched voice, so that my friends sometimes rebuke methereanent; but, harsh and loud as is my voice, it cannot be heard at anygreat distance while I am lecturing. I am wont to talk too much, and innone too urbane a tone. The look of my eyes is fixed, like that of one indeep thought. My front teeth are large, and my complexion red and white:the form of my countenance being somewhat elongated, and my head isfinished off in narrow wise at the back, like to a small sphere. Indeed, it was no rare thing for the painters, who came from distant countries topaint my portrait, to affirm that they could find no specialcharacteristic which they could use for the rendering of my likeness, sothat I might be known by the same. "[30]

After giving this account of his person, Cardan writes down a catalogue ofthe various diseases which vexed him from time to time, a chapter ofautobiography which looks like a transcript from a dictionary of Nosology. More interesting is the sketch which he makes of his mental state duringthese early years. Boys brought up in company of their elders often show atendency to introspection, and fall into a dreamy whimsical mood, and hiscase is a striking example. "By the command of my father I used to lieabed until nine o'clock, [31] and, if perchance I lay awake any time beforethe wonted hour of rising, it was my habit to spend the same by conjuringup to sight all sorts of pleasant visions, nor can I remember that I eversummoned these in vain. I used to behold figures of divers kinds like airybodies. Meseemed they were made up of tiny rings, like those in coats ofchain-armour, though at this time I had seen nought of the kind. Theywould rise at the bottom of the bed, from the right-hand corner; and, moving in a semi-circle, would pass slowly on and disappear in the left. Moreover I beheld the shapes of castles and houses, of horses and riders, of plants, trees, musical instruments, theatres, dresses of men of allsorts, and flute-players who seemed to be playing upon their instruments, but neither voice nor sound was heard therefrom. And besides these thingsI beheld soldiers, and crowds of men, and fields, and certain bodilyforms, which seem hateful to me even now: groves and forests, and diversother things which I now forget. In all this I took no small delight, andwith straining eyes I would gaze upon these marvels; wherefore my AuntMargaret asked me more than once whether I saw anything. I, though I wasthen only a child, deliberated over this question of hers before Ireplied, saying to myself: 'If I tell her the facts she will be wroth atthe thing--whatever it may be--which is the cause of these phantasms, andwill deprive me of this delight. ' And then I seemed to see flowers of allkinds, and four-footed beasts, and birds; but all these, though they werefashioned most beautifully, were lacking in colour, for they were thingsof air. Therefore I, who neither as a boy nor as an old man ever learnedto lie, stood silent for some time. Then my aunt said--'Boy, what makesyou stare thus and stand silent?' I know not what answer I made, but Ithink I said nothing at all. In my dreams I frequently saw what seemed tobe a cock, which I feared might speak to me in a human voice. This insooth came to pass later on, and the words it spake were threatening ones, but I cannot now recall what I may have heard on these occasions. "[32]

With a brain capable of such remarkable exercises as the above-writtenvision, living his life in an atmosphere of books, and with all games andrelaxations dear to boys of his age denied to him, it was no marvel thatJerome should make an early literary essay on his own account. The deathof a young kinsman, Niccolo Cardano, [33] suggested to him a theme which heelaborated in a tract called _De immortalitate paranda_, a work whichperished unlamented by its author, and a little later he wrote a treatiseon the calculation of the distances between the various heavenlybodies. [34] But he put his mathematical skill to other and more sinisteruses than this; for, having gained practical experience at thegaming-tables, he combined this experience with his knowledge of theproperties of numbers, and wrote a tract on games of chance. Afterwards heamplified this into his book, _Liber de Ludo Aleæ_. 

With this equipment and discipline Jerome went to Pavia in 1520. He foundlodging in the house of Giovanni Ambrogio Targio, and until the end of histwenty-first year he spent all his time between Pavia and Milan. By thisdate he had made sufficiently good use of his time to let the world see ofwhat metal he was formed, for in the year following he had advanced farenough in learning to dispute in public, to teach Euclid in the Gymnasium, and to take occasional classes in Dialectics and Elementary Philosophy. Atthe end of his twenty-second year the country was convulsed by the warsbetween the Spaniards and the French under Lautrec, which ended in theexpulsion of the last-named and the establishment of the Imperial power inMilan. Another result of the war, more germane to this history, was theclosing of the University of Pavia through lack of funds. In consequenceof this calamity Jerome remained some time in Milan, and during thesemonths he worked hard at mathematics; but he was not destined to return toPavia as a student. The schools there remained some long time inconfusion, so in 1524 he went with his father's consent to Padua. In theautumn of that same year he was summoned back to Milan to find Fazio inthe grip of his dying illness. "Whereupon he, careful of my weal ratherthan his own, bade me return to Padua at once, being well pleased to hearthat I had taken at the Venetian College the Baccalaureat of Arts. [35]After my return to Padua, letters were brought to me which told me that hehad died on the ninth day after he had refused nourishment. He died on thetwenty-eighth of August, having last eaten on Sunday the twentieth of themonth. Towards the close of my twenty-fourth year I was chosen Rector ofthe Academy at Padua, [36] and at the end of the next was made Doctor ofMedicine. For the first-named office I came out the victor by one vote, the suffrages having to be cast a second time; and for the Doctorate ofMedicine my name had already twice come forth from the ballot withforty-seven votes cast against me (a circumstance which forbade anothervoting after the third), when, at the third trial, I came out the winner, with only nine votes against me (previously only this same number had beencast for me), and with forty-eight in my favour. 

"Though I know well enough that affairs like these must needs be of smallaccount, I have set them down in the order in which they came to pass forno other reason than that I give pleasure to myself who write these wordsby so doing: and I do not write for the gratification of others. At thesame time those people who read what I write--if indeed any one shouldever be so minded--may learn hereby that the beginnings and the outcomesof great events may well be found difficult to trace, because in sooth itis the way of such things to come to the notice of anybody rather than ofthose who would rightly observe them. "[37]

Padua cannot claim for its University an antiquity as high as that whichmay be conceded to Pavia, but in spite of its more recent origin, there isno little obscurity surrounding its rise. The one fact which may be putdown as certain is that it sprang originally from the University ofBologna. Early in the thirteenth century violent discords arose betweenthe citizens of Bologna and the students, and there is a tradition thatthe general school of teaching was transferred to Padua in 1222. Whathappened was probably a large migration of students, part of whom remainedbehind when peace between town and gown in Bologna was restored. Theorthodox origin of the University is a charter granted by Frederic II. In1238. Frederic at this time was certainly trying to injure Bologna, actuated by a desire to help on his own University at Naples, and to crushBologna as a member of the Lombard League. [38] Padua, however, was also amember of this league, so his benevolent action towards it is difficult tounderstand. In 1228 the students had quarrelled with the Paduan citizens, and there was a movement to migrate to Vercelli; but, whether this reallytook place or not, the Paduan school did not suffer: its ruin andextinction was deferred till the despotism of the Ezzelini. In 1260 itwas again revived by a second migration from Bologna, and this movementwas increased on account of the interdict laid by the Pope upon Bologna in1306 after the expulsion of the Papal Legate by the citizens. 

In the early days Medicine and Arts were entirely subordinate to theschools of canon and civil law; but by the end of the fourteenth centurythese first-named Faculties had obtained a certain degree of independence, and were allowed an equal share in appointing the Rector. [39] The firstCollege was founded in 1363, and after 1500 the number rapidly increased. The dominion of the Dukes of Carrara after 1322 was favourable to thegrowth of the University, which, however, did not attain its highest pointtill it came under Venetian rule in 1404. The Venetian government raisedthe stipends of the professors, and allowed four Paduan citizens to act as_Tutores Studii_; the election of the professors being vested in thestudents, which custom obtained until the end of the sixteenthcentury. [40] The Rector was allowed to wear a robe of purple and gold;and, when he retired, the degree of Doctor was granted to him, togetherwith the right to wear the golden collar of the order of Saint Mark. 

Padua like Athens humanized its conquerors. It became the University townof Venice, as Pavia was of Milan, and it was for a long time protectedfrom the assaults of the Catholic reaction by its rulers, who possiblywere instigated rather by political jealousy of the Papacy as a temporalpower, than by any enthusiasm for the humanist and scientific studies ofwhich Padua was the most illustrious home south of the Alps; studies whichthe powers of the Church began already to recognize as their mostdangerous foes. 

Such was the University of Padua at the height of its glory, and it willbe apparent at once that Padua must have fallen considerably in itsfortunes when it installed as its Rector an obscure student, onlytwenty-four years of age, and of illegitimate birth, and conferred uponhim the right to go clad in purple and gold, and to claim, as hisretiring gift, the degree of Doctor and the cross of Saint Mark. In 1508the League of Cambrai had been formed, and Venice, not yet recoveredfrom the effects of its disastrous wars with Bajazet II. , was forced tomeet the combined assault of the Pope, the Emperor, and the King ofFrance. Padua was besieged by the Imperial forces, a motley horde ofGermans, Swiss, and Spaniards, and the surrounding country was pillagedand devastated by these savages with a cruelty which recalled the daysof Attila. It is not wonderful that the University closed its doors insuch a time. When the confederates began to fight amongst themselves theclass-rooms were reopened, intermittently at first, but after 1515 theteaching seems to have been continuous. Still the prevalent turmoil andpoverty rendered it necessary to curtail all the mere honorary andornamental adjuncts of the schools, and for several years no Rector wasappointed, for the good and sufficient reason that no man of dueposition and wealth and character could be found to undertake therectorial duties, with the Academy just emerging from completedisorganization. These duties were many and important, albeit the Rectorcould, if he willed, appoint a deputy, and the calls upon the purse ofthe holder must have been very heavy. It would be hard to imagine anyone less fitted to fill such a post than Cardan, and assuredly no officecould befit him less than this pseudo-rectorship. [41] It must everremain a mystery why he was preferred, why he was elected, and why heconsented to serve: though, as to the last-named matter, he hints in apassage lately cited from _De Utilitate_, that it was through thepersuasions of his mother that he took upon himself this disastroushonour. Many pasages in his writings suggest that Chiara was anindulgent parent. She let Fazio have no peace till he consented to allowthe boy to go to college; she paid secretly for music-lessons, so thatJerome was enabled to enjoy the relaxation he loved better than anythingelse in the world--except gambling; she paid all his charges during hisstudent life at Padua; and now, quite naturally, she would have shed herheart's blood rather than let this son of hers--ugly duckling as hewas--miss what she deemed to be the crowning honour of the rectorship;but after all the sacrifices Chiara made, after all the misfortuneswhich attended Jerome's ill-directed ambition, there is a doubt as towhether he ever was Rector in the full sense of the term. Many times andin divers works he affirms that once upon a time he was Rector, and overand beyond this he sets down in black and white the fact, more thanonce, that he never told a lie; so it is only polite to accept thislegend for what it is worth. But it must likewise be noted that in theextant records of the University there is no mention of his name in thelists of Rectors. [42]

Jerome has left very few details as to his life at Padua. Of those whichhe notices the following are the most interesting: "In 1525, the year inwhich I became Rector, I narrowly escaped drowning in the Lago di Garda. Iwent on board the boat, unwillingly enough, which carried likewise somehired horses; and, as we sailed on, the mast and the rudder, and one ofthe two oars we had with us, were broken by the wind. The sails, eventhose on the smaller mast, were split, and the night came on. We landed atlast safe and sound at Sirmio, but not before all my companions had givenup hope, and I myself was beginning to despair. Indeed, had we been aminute later we must have perished, for the tempest was so violent thatthe iron hinges of the inn windows were bent thereby. I, though I had beensore afraid ever since the wind began to blow, fell to supper with a goodheart when the host set upon the board a mighty pike, but none of theothers had any stomach for food, except the one passenger who had advisedus to make trial of this perilous adventure, and who had proved to be anable and courageous helper in our hour of distress. 

"Again, once when I was in Venice on the birthday of the Virgin, I lostsome money at dicing, and on the day following all that was left me wentthe same way. This happened in the house of the man with whom I wasgambling, and in the course of play I noticed that the cards were marked, whereupon I struck him in the face with my dagger, wounding him slightly. Two of his servants were present at the time; some spears hung all readyfrom the beams of the roof, and besides this the house door was fastened. But when I had taken from him all the money he had about him--his own aswell as that which he had won from me by cheating, and my cloak and therings which I had lost to him the day before--I was satisfied that I hadgot back all my possessions. The chattels I sent home by my servant atonce, but a portion of the money I tossed back to the fellow when I sawthat I had drawn blood of him. Then I attacked the servants who werestanding by; and, as they knew not how to use their weapons and besoughtmy mercy, I granted this on the condition that they should unlock thedoor. Their master, taking account of the uproar and confusion, andmistrusting his safety in case the affair should not be settled forthwith(I suspect he was alarmed about the marked cards), commanded the servantsto open the door, whereupon I went my way. 

"That very same evening, while I was doing my best to escape the notice ofthe officers of justice on account of the wound I had given to thisSenator, I lost my footing and fell into a canal, having arms under mycloak the while. In my fall I did not lose my nerve, but flinging out myright arm, I grasped the thwart of a passing boat and was rescued by thoseon board. When I had been hauled into the boat I discovered--wonderful torelate--that the man with whom I had lately played cards was likewise onboard, with his face bandaged by reason of the wounds I had given him. Now of his own accord he brought out a suit of clothes, fitted forseafaring, and, having clad myself in them, I journeyed with him as far asPadua. "[43]

Cardan's life from rise to set cannot be estimated otherwise than anunhappy one, and its least fortunate years were probably those lyingbetween his twenty-first and his thirty-first year of age. During thisperiod he was guilty of that crowning folly, the acceptance of theRectorship of the Gymnasium at Padua, he felt the sharpest stings ofpoverty, and his life was overshadowed by dire physical misfortune. Hegives a rapid sketch of the year following his father's death. "Then, myfather having breathed his last and my term of office come to an end, Iwent, at the beginning of my twenty-sixth year, to reside at Sacco, a towndistant ten miles from Padua and twenty-five from Venice. I fixed on thisplace by the advice of Francesco Buonafidei, a physician of Padua, who, albeit I brought no profit to him--not even being one of those whoattended his public teaching--helped me and took a liking for me, beingmoved to this benevolence by his exceeding goodness of heart. In thisplace I lived while our State was being vexed by every sort of calamity. In 1524 by a raging pestilence and by a two-fold change of ruler. In 1526and 1527 by a destructive scarcity of the fruits of the earth. It was hardto get corn in exchange for money of any kind, and over and beyond thiswas the intolerable weight of taxation. In 1528 the land was visited bydivers diseases and by the plague as well, but these afflictions seemedthe easier to bear because all other parts were likewise suffering fromthe same. In 1529 I ventured to return to Milan--these ill-starredtroubles being in some degree abated--but I was refused membership by theCollege of Physicians there, I was unable to settle my lawsuit with theBarbiani, and I found my mother in a very ill humour, so I went back to myvillage home, having suffered greatly in health during my absence. Forwhat with cruel vexations, and struggles, and cares which I saw impending, and a troublesome cough and pleurisy aggravated by a copious discharge ofhumour, I was brought into a condition such as few men exchange for aughtelse besides a coffin. "[44]

The closing words of his eulogy on his father tell how the son, on thefather's death, found that one small house was all he could call his own. The explanation of this seems to be that the old man, being of a carelessdisposition and litigious to boot, had left his affairs in piteousdisorder. In consequence of this neglect Jerome was involved in lawsuitsfor many years, and the one afore-mentioned with the Barbiani was one ofthem. This case was subsequently settled in Jerome's favour. 

FOOTNOTES:

[28] Pavia, like certain modern universities, did not spend all its timeover study. "Aggressus sum Mediolani vacationibus quadragenariæ, seuBacchanalium potius, anni MDLXI. Ita enim non obscurum est, nostra ætatecelebrari ante quadragenariam vacationes, in quibus ludunt, convivantur, personati ac larvati incedunt, denique nullum luxus ac lascivæ genusomittunt: Sybaritæ et Lydi Persæque vincuntur. " _Opera_, tom. I. P. 118. 

[29] These books were taken to Blois. They were subsequently removed byFrancis I. To Fontainebleau, and with the other collections formed thenucleus of the Bibliothèque Nationale. 

[30] _De Vita Propria_, ch. V. P. 18. 

[31] The time covered by this experience was from his fourth to hisseventh year. 

[32] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvii. P. 114; _De Rerum Subtilitate_ (Basil, 1554), p. 524. 

[33] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 61. 

[34] "Erat liber exiguus, rem tamen probe absolvebat: nam tunc forte inmanus meas inciderat, Gebri Hispani liber, cujus auxilio non parum adjutussum. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 56. 

[35] "Initio multi quidem paupertate aliave causa quum se nolunt subjicererigoroso examini Cl. Collegii in artibus Medicinae vel in Jure, Baccalaureatus, vel Doctoratus gradum a Comitibus Palatinis autLateranensibus sumebant. Postea vero, sublata hac consuetudine, GymnasiiRector, sive substitutus, convocatis duobus professoribus, bina punctadabantur, iisque recitatis et diligentis [_sic_] excussis, illis gradusBaccalaureatus conferebatur. "--_Gymnasium Patavinum_ (1654), p. 200. 

[36] He constantly bewails this step as the chief folly of his life:"Stulte vero id egi, quod Rector Gymnasii Patavini effectus sum, tum, cum, inops essem, et in patria maxime bella vigerent, et tributa intolerabilia. Matris tamen solicitudine effectum est, ut pondus impensarum, quamvisaegre, sustinuerim. "--_De Utilitate_, p. 350. 

[37] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 11. 

[38] Muratori, _Chron. Di Bologna_, xviii. 254. 

[39] The stipends paid to teachers of jurisprudence were much more liberalthan those paid to humanists. In the Diary of Sanudo it is recorded that ajurist professor at Padua received a thousand ducats per annum. LauroQuirino, a professor of rhetoric, meantime received only forty ducats, andLaurentius Valla at Pavia received fifty sequins. --Muratori, xxii. 990. 

[40] Tomasinus, _Gymnasium Patavinam_ (1654), p. 136. 

[41] Tomasinus writes that the Rector should be "Virum illustrem, providum, eloquentem ac divitem, quique eo pollet rerum usu ut Gymnasidecora ipsius gubernatione et splendore augeantur. "--_GymnasiumPatavinum_, p. 54. He likewise gives a portrait of the Rector in his robesof office, and devotes several chapters to an account of his duties. 

[42] "Ab anno 1509 usque ad annum 1515 ob bellum Cameracense Gymn. Interrmissum fuit. "--_Elenchus nominum Patavii_ (1706), p. 28. The firstnames given after this interregnum are Dom. Jo. Maria de Zaffaris, Rectorin Arts, and Dom. Marinus de Ongaris, Rector in Jurisprudence in 1527. 

Papadapoli (_Historia Gymn. Patav. _) gives the name of Ascanius Serra aspro-Rector in 1526: no Rector being mentioned at all. 

[43] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxx. P. 79. 

[44] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 13. 

CHAPTER III

DURING his life at Padua it would appear that Cardan, over and above theallowance made to him by his mother, had no other source of income thanthe gaming-table. [45] However futile and disastrous his sojourn at thisUniversity may have been, he at least took away with him one possession ofvalue, to wit his doctorate of medicine, on the strength of which he beganto practise as a country physician at Sacco. The record of his life duringthese years gives the impression that he must have been one of the mostwretched of living mortals. The country was vexed by every sort ofmisfortune, by prolonged warfare, by raging pestilence, by famine, and byintolerable taxation;[46] but while he paints this picture of misery anddesolation in one place, he goes on to declare in another that the timewhich he spent at Sacco was the happiest he ever knew. [47] No greaterinstance of inconsistency is to be found in his pages. He writes: "Igambled, I occupied myself with music, I walked abroad, I feasted, givingscant attention the while to my studies. I feared no hurt, I paid myrespects to the Venetian gentlemen living in the town, and frequentedtheir houses. I, too, was in the very flower of my age, and no time couldhave been more delightful than this which lasted for five years and ahalf. "[48]

But for almost the whole of this period Cardan was labouring under aphysical misfortune concerning which he writes in another place in termsof almost savage bitterness. During ten years of his life, from histwenty-first to his thirty-first year, he suffered from the loss of virilepower, a calamity which he laments in the following words: "And I maintainthat this misfortune was to me the worst of evils. Compared with itneither the harsh servitude under my father, nor unkindness, nor thetroubles of litigation, nor the wrongs done me by my fellow-townsmen, northe scorn of my fellow-physicians, nor the ill things falsely spokenagainst me, nor all the measureless mass of possible evil, could havebrought me to such despair, and hatred of life, and distaste of allpleasure, and lasting sorrow. I bitterly wept this misery, that I mustneeds be a laughing-stock, that marriage must be denied me, and that Imust ever live in solitude. You ask for the cause of this misfortune, amatter which I am quite unable to explain. Because of the reasons justmentioned, and because I dreaded that men should know how grave was theill afflicting me, I shunned the society of women; and, on account of thishabit, the same miserable public scandal which I desired so earnestly toavoid, arose concerning me, and brought upon me the suspicion of stillmore nefarious practices: in sooth it seemed that there was no furthercalamity left for me to endure. "[49] After reading these words, it is hardto believe that a man, afflicted with a misfortune which he characterizesin these terms, could have been even moderately happy; much less in thatstate of bliss which he sits down to describe forty years afterwards. 

But the end of his life at Sacco was fated to be happier than thebeginning, and it is possible that memories of the last months he spentthere may have helped to colour with rosy tint the picture of happinessrecently referred to. In the first place he was suddenly freed from hisphysical infirmity, and shortly after his restoration he met and marriedthe woman who, as long as she lived with him, did all that was possible tomake him happy. Every momentous event of Cardan's life--and many atrifling one as well--was heralded by some manifestation of the powerslying beyond man's cognition. In writing about the signs and tokens whichserved as premonitions of his courtship and marriage, he glides easilyinto a description of the events themselves in terms which are worthproducing. "In times past I had my home in Sacco, and there I led a joyfullife, as if I were a man unvexed by misfortune (I recall this circumstancesomewhat out of season, but the dream I am about to tell of seems only tooappropriate to the occasion), or a mortal made free of the habitations ofthe blest, or rather of some region of delight. Then, on a certain night, I seemed to find myself in a pleasant garden, beautiful exceedingly, decked with flowers and filled with fruits of divers sorts, and a soft airbreathed around. So lovely was it all that no painter nor our poet Pulci, nor any imagination of man could have figured the like. I was standing inthe forecourt of this garden, the door whereof was open, and there wasanother door on the opposite side, when lo! I beheld before me a damselclad in white. I embraced and kissed her; but before I could kiss heragain, the gardener closed the door. I straightway begged him earnestlythat he would open it again, but I begged in vain; wherefore, plunged ingrief and clinging to the damsel, I seemed to be shut out of the garden. 

"A little time after this there was a rumour in the town of a house onfire, and I was roused from sleep to hurry to the spot. Then I learnedthat the house belonged to one Altobello Bandarini, [50] a captain of theVenetian levies in the district of Padua. I had no acquaintance with him, in sooth I scarcely knew him by sight. Now it chanced that after the firehe hired a house next door to my own, a step which displeased me somewhat, for such a neighbour was not to my taste; but what was I to do? After thelapse of a few days, when I was in the street, I perceived a young girlwho, as to her face and her raiment, was the exact image of her whom I hadbeheld in my dream. But I said to myself, 'What is this girl to me? If I, poor wretch that I am, take to wife a girl dowered with naught, except acrowd of brothers and sisters, it will be all over with me; forasmuch as Ican hardly keep myself as it is. If I should attempt to carry her off, orto have my will of her by stealth, there will of a surety be sometale-bearers about; and her father, being a fellow-townsman and a soldierto boot, would not sit down lightly under such an injury. In this case, orin that, it is hard to say what course I should follow, for if thisaffair should come to the issue I most desire, I must needs fly theplace. ' From that same hour these thoughts and others akin to thempossessed my brain, which was only too ready to harbour them, and I feltit would be better to die than to live on in such perplexity. ThenceforthI was as one love-possessed, or even burnt up with passion, and Iunderstood what meaning I might gather from the reading of my dream. Moreover I was by this time freed from the chain which had held me backfrom marriage. Thus I, a willing bridegroom, took a willing bride, herkinsfolk questioning us how this thing had been brought about, andoffering us any help which might be of service; which help indeed provedof very substantial benefit. 

"But the interpretation of my dreams did not work itself out entirely inthe after life of my wife; it made itself felt likewise in the lives of mychildren. My wife lived with me fifteen years, and alas! this ill-advisedmarriage was the cause of all the misfortunes which subsequently happenedto me. These must have come about either by the working of the divinewill, or as the recompense due for some ill deeds wrought by myself or bymy forefathers. "[51]

The dream aforesaid was not the only portent having reference to hismarriage. After describing shakings and tremblings of his bed, for whichindeed a natural cause was not far to seek, he tells how in 1531 a certaindog, of gentle temper as a rule, and quiet, kept up a persistent howlingfor a long time; how some ravens perched on the house-top and begancroaking in an unusual manner; and how, when his servant was breaking up afaggot, some sparks of fire flew out of the same; whereupon, "by anunlooked-for step I married a wife, and from that time divers misfortuneshave attended me. "[52] Lucia, the wife of his choice, was the eldestdaughter of Altobello Bandarini, who had, besides her, three daughters andfour sons. Jerome, as it has been already noted, was possessed with a fearlest he should be burdened by his brothers- and sisters-in-law after hismarriage; but, considering that he was a young unknown physician, withouteither money or patients, and that Bandarini was a man of position andrepute, with some wealth and more shrewdness, the chances were that theburden would lie on the other side. Cardan seems to have inherited Fazio'scontempt for wealth, or at least to have made a profession thereof; for, in chronicling the event of his marriage, he sets down, with a certaindegree of pomposity, that he took a wife without a dower on account of acertain vow he had sworn. [53] If the bride was penniless the father-in-lawwas wealthy, and the last-named fact might well have proved a powerfulargument to induce Cardan to remain at Sacco, albeit he had little scopefor his calling. That he soon determined to quit the place, is an evidenceof his independence of spirit, and of his disinclination to sponge uponhis well-to-do connections. Bandarini, when this scheme was proposed tohim, vetoed it at once. He was unwilling to part with his daughter, andpossibly he may have taken a fancy to his son-in-law, for Cardan has leftit on record that Bandarini was greatly pleased with the match; he ended, however, by consenting to the migration, which was not made without theintervention of a warning portent. A short time before the young coupledeparted, it happened that a tile got mixed with the embers in Bandarini'sbed-chamber; and, in the course of the night, exploded with a loudreport, and the fragments thereof were scattered around. This eventBandarini regarded as an augury of evil, and indeed evil followed swiftlyafter. Before a year had passed he was dead, some holding that his deathhad been hastened by the ill conduct of his eldest son, and otherswhispering suspicions of poison. 

Jerome and his young wife betook themselves to Milan, but this visit seemsto have been fully as unprofitable as the one he had paid in 1529. In thatyear he had to face his first rejection by the College of Physicians, whenhe made application for admission; and there is indirect evidence that henow made a second application with no better result. [54] In any case hisaffairs were in a very bad way. If he had money in his pocket he would notkeep long away from the gaming-table; and, with the weight of trouble everbearing him down more and more heavily, it is almost certain that hisspirits must have suffered, and that poor Lucia must have passed many anunhappy hour on account of his nervous irritability. Then the gates of hisprofession remained closed to him by the action of the College. Thepretext the authorities gave for their refusal to admit him was hisillegitimate birth; but it is not unlikely that they may have mistrustedas a colleague the son of Fazio Cardano, and that stories of theprofligate life and the intractable temper of the candidate may have beenbrought to them. [55] His health suffered from the bad air of the cityalmost as severely as before, and Lucia, who was at this time pregnant, miscarried at four months, and shortly afterwards had a second misfortuneof the same kind. His mother's temper was not of the sweetest, and it isquite possible that between her and her daughter-in-law there may havebeen strained relations. Cardan at any rate found that he must once morebeat a retreat from Milan, wherefore, at the end of April 1533, he made uphis mind to remove to Gallarate. 

This town has already been mentioned as chief place of the district, fromwhich the Cardan family took its origin. Before going thither Jerome hadevidently weighed the matter well, and he has set down at some length thereasons which led him to make this choice. "Thus, acting under the reasonsaforesaid (the family associations), I resolved to go to Gallarate, inorder that I might have the enjoyment of four separate advantages which itoffered. Firstly, that in the most healthy air of the place I might shakeoff entirely the distemper which I had contracted in Milan. Secondly, thatI might earn something by my profession, seeing that then I should be freeto practise. Thirdly, that there would be no need for me to pine awaywhile I beheld those physicians, by whom I reckoned I had been despoiled, flourishing in wealth and in the high estimation of all men. Lastly, thatby following a more frugal way of life, I might make what I possessed lastthe longer. For all things are cheaper in the country, since they have tobe carried from the country into the town, and many necessaries may be hadfor the asking. Persuaded by these arguments, I went to this place, and Iwas not altogether deceived, seeing that I recovered my health, and theson--who was to be reft from me later on by the Senate--was born tome. "[56]

Employment at Gallarate was, however, almost as scarce as it had been atSacco, wherefore Jerome found leisure in plenty for literary work. Hebegan a treatise on Fate; but, even had this been completed, it wouldscarcely have filled the empty larder by the proceeds of its sale. Moreprofitable was some chance employment which was given to him by FilippoArchinto, [57] a generous and accomplished young nobleman of Milan, who wasambitious to figure as a writer on Astronomy, and, it may be remarked, Archinto's benefactions were not confined to the payment for the hack workwhich Jerome did for him at this period. Had it not been for hissubsequent patronage and support, it is quite possible that Cardan wouldhave gone under in the sea of adversity. 

In spite of the cheapness of provisions at Gallarate, and of occasionalmeals taken gratis from the fields, complete destitution seemed to be onlya matter of days, and just at this crisis, to add to hisembarrassments--though he longed earnestly for the event--Lucia wasbrought to bed with her first-born living child on May 14, 1534. Thechild's birth was accompanied by divers omens, one of which the fatherdescribes, finding therein some premonition of future disaster. "I hadgreat fear of his life until the fifteenth day of June, on which day, being a Sunday, he was baptized. The sun shone brightly into thebed-chamber: it was between the hours of eleven and twelve in theforenoon; and, according to custom, we were all gathered round themother's bed except a young servant, the curtain was drawn away from thewindow and fastened to the wall, when suddenly a large wasp flew into theroom, and circled round the infant. We were all greatly afeard for thechild, but the wasp did him no hurt. The next moment it came against thecurtain, making so great a noise that you would have said that a drum wasbeing beaten, and all ran towards the place, but found no trace of thewasp. It could not have flown out of the room, because all eyes had beenfixed upon it. Then all of us who were then present felt some forebodingof what subsequently came to pass, but did not deem that the end would beso bitter as it proved to be. "[58]

The impulse which drives men in desperate straits to seek shelter in thestreets of a city was as strong in Cardan's time as it is to-day. AtGallarate the last coin was now spent, and there was an extra mouth tofeed. There seemed to be no other course open but another retreat toMilan. Archinto was rich in literary ambitions, which might perchancestimulate him to find farther work for the starving scholar: and there wasChiara also who would scarcely let her grandchild die of want. Therevelation which Cardan makes of himself and of his way of life at thistime is not one to enlist sympathy for him entirely; but it is not wantingin a note of pathetic sincerity. "For a long time the College at Milanrefused to admit me, and during these days I was assuredly a spendthriftand heedless. In body I was weakly, and in estate plundered by thieves onall sides, yet I never grudged money for the buying of books. My residenceat Gallarate brought me no profit, for in the whole nineteen months Ilived there, I did not receive more than twenty-five crowns towards therent of the house I hired. I had such ill luck with the dice that I wasforced to pawn all my wife's jewels, and our very bed. If it is a wonderthat I found myself thus bereft of all my substance, it is still morewonderful that I did not take to begging on account of my poverty, and awonder greater still that I harboured in my mind no unworthy thoughtsagainst my forefathers, or against right living, or against those honourswhich I had won--honours which afterwards stood me in good stead--but boremy misfortunes with mind undisturbed. "[59]

Cardan's worldly fortunes were now at their lowest ebb. Burdened with awife and child, he had found it necessary to return, after a second futileattempt to gain a living by his calling in a country town, to Milan, his"stony-hearted step-mother. " If he had reckoned on his mother's bounty hewas doomed to disappointment, for Chiara was an irritable woman, and asher son's temper was none of the sweetest, it is almost certain that theymust have quarrelled occasionally. It is hard to believe that they couldhave been on good terms at this juncture, otherwise she would scarcelyhave allowed him to take his wife and child to what was then the publicworkhouse of the city;[60] but this place was his only refuge, and inOctober 1534 he was glad to shelter himself beneath its roof. 

There was in Cardan's nature a strong vein of melancholy, and up to thedate now under consideration he had been the victim of a fortunecalculated to deepen rather than disperse his morbid tendencies. A proofof his high courage and dauntless perseverance may be deduced from thefact that neither poverty, nor the sense of repeated failure, nor theflouts of the Milanese doctors, prevailed at any time to quench in hisheart the love of fame, [61] or to disabuse him of the conviction that he, poverty-stricken wretch as he was, would before long bind Fortune to hischariot-wheels, and would force the adverse world to acknowledge him asone of its master minds. The dawn was now not far distant, but the lasthours of his night of misfortune were very dark. The worst of thestruggle, as far as the world was concerned, was over, and the sharpestsorrows and the heaviest disgrace reserved for Cardan in the future wereto be those nourished in his own household. 

Writing of his way of life and of the vices and defects of his character, he says: "If a man shall fail in his carriage before the world as he failsin other things, who shall correct him? Thus I myself will do duty forthat one leper who alone out of the ten who were healed came back to ourLord. By reasoning of this sort, Physicians and Astrologers trace back theorigin of our natural habits to our primal qualities, to the training ofour will, and to our occupations and conversation. In every man all theseare found in proper ratio to the time of life of each individual;nevertheless it will be easy to discern marked variations in casesotherwise similar. Therefore it behoves us to hold fast to some guidingprinciple chosen out of these, and I on my part am inclined, as far as itmay be allowed, to say with respect to all of them, [Greek: gnôthiseauton]. 

"My own nature in sooth was never a mystery to myself. I was everhot-tempered, single-minded, and given to women. From these cardinaltendencies there proceeded truculence of temper, wrangling, obstinacy, rudeness of carriage, anger, and an inordinate desire, or rather aheadstrong passion, for revenge in respect to any wrong done to me; sothat this inclination, which is censured by many, became to me a delight. To put it briefly, I held _At vindicta bonum vita jucundius ipsa_. As ageneral rule I went astray but seldom, though it is a common saying, '_Natura nostra prona est ad malum_. ' I am moreover truthful, mindful ofbenefits wrought to me, a lover of justice and of my own people, adespiser of money, a worshipper of that fame which defies death, prone tothrust aside what is commonplace, and still more disposed to treat meretrifles in the same way. Still, knowing well how great may be the power oflittle things at any moment during the course of an undertaking, I nevermake light of aught which may be useful. By nature I am prone to everyvice and ill-doing except ambition, and I, if no one else does, know myown imperfections. But because of my veneration for God, and because Irecognize the vanity and emptiness of all things of this sort, it oftenhappens that, of my own free will, I forego certain opportunities fortaking revenge which may be offered to me. I am timid, with a cold heartand a hot brain, given to reflection and the consideration of things manyand mighty, and even of things which can never come to pass. I can evenlet my thoughts concern themselves with two distinct subjects at the sametime. Those who throw out charges of garrulity and extravagance by way ofcontradicting any praise accorded to me, charge me with the faults ofothers rather than my own. I attack no man, I only defend myself. 

"And what reason is there why I should spend myself in this cause since Ihave so often borne witness of the emptiness of this life of ours? Myexcuse must be that certain men have praised me, wherefore they cannotdeem me altogether wicked. I have always trained myself to let my facecontradict my thoughts. Thus while I can simulate what is not, I cannotdissimulate what is. To accomplish this is no difficult task if a mancultivates likewise the habit of hoping for nothing. By striving forfifteen years to compass this end and by spending much trouble over thesame I at last succeeded. Urged on by this humour I sometimes go forth inrags, sometimes finely dressed, sometimes silent, sometimes talkative, sometimes joyful, sometimes sad; and on this account my two-fold moodshows everything double. In my youth I rarely spent any care in keeping myhair in order, because of my inclination for other pursuits more to mytaste. My gait is irregular. I move now quickly, now slowly. When I am athome I go with my legs naked as far as the ankles. I am slack in duty andreckless in speech, and specially prone to show irritation over anythingwhich may disgust or irk me. "

The above-written self-description does not display a personalityparticularly attractive. Jerome Cardan was one of those men who experiencea morbid gratification in cataloguing all their sinister points ofcharacter, and exaggerating them at the same time; and in this picture, asin many others scattered about the _De Vita Propria_, the shadows may havebeen put in too strongly. 

In the foregoing pages reference was made to certain acts of benevolencedone to Cardan by the family of Archinto. It is not impossible that thepromises and persuasions of his young patron Filippo may have had someweight in inducing Jerome to shift his home once more. Whatever befell hecould hardly make his case worse; but whether Filippo had promised help ornot, he showed himself now a true and valuable friend. There was in Milana public lectureship in geometry and astronomy supported by a smallendowment left by a certain Tommaso Plat, and to this post, which happenedopportunely to be vacant, Cardan was appointed by the good offices ofFilippo Archinto. Yet even when he was literally a pauper he seems to havefelt some scruples about accepting this office, but fortunately in thisinstance his poverty overcame his pride. The salary was indeed a verysmall one, [62] and the lecturer was not suffered to handle the whole ofit, but it was at least liberal enough to banish the dread of starvation, and his duties, which consisted solely in the preparation and delivery ofhis lectures, did not debar him from literary work on his own account. Wherefore in his leisure time he worked hard at his desk. 

Any differences which may have existed between him and his mother were nowremoved, for he took her to live with him, the household being made up ofhimself, his wife, his mother, a friend (a woman), a nurse, the littleboy, a man- and maidservant, and a mule. [63] Possibly Chiara brought herown income with her, and thus allowed the establishment to be conducted ona more liberal scale. The Plat lectureship would scarcely have maintainedthree servants, and Jerome's gains from other sources must have been asyet very slender. His life at this time was a busy one, but he alwayscontrived to portion out his days in such wise that certain hours wereleft for recreation. At such times as he was called upon to teach, theclass-room, of course, had the first claims. After the lecture he wouldwalk in the shade outside the city walls, then return to his dinner, thendivert himself with music, and afterwards go fishing in the pools andstreams hard by the town. In the course of time he obtained otheremployment, being appointed physician to the Augustinian friars. The Priorof this Order, Francesco Gaddi, was indeed his first patient of note. Hetells how he cured this man of a biennial leprosy after treating him forsix months;[64] adding that his labour was in vain, inasmuch as Gaddi dieda violent death afterwards. The refusal of the College of Milan to admithim to membership did not forbid him to prescribe for whatever patientsmight like to consult him by virtue of his Paduan degree. He readvoraciously everything which came in his way, and it must have been duringthese years that he stored his memory with that vast collection of factsout of which he subsequently compounded the row of tomes which form hislegacy to posterity. Filippo Archinto was unfailing in his kindness, andJerome at this time was fortunate enough to attract the attention ofcertain other Milanese citizens of repute who afterwards proved to bevaluable friends; Ludovico Madio, Girolamo Guerrini a jeweller, FrancescoBelloti, and Francesco della Croce. The last-named was a skilledjurisconsult, whose help proved of great service in a subsequentlitigation between Jerome and the College of Physicians. 

All his life long Cardan was a dreamer of dreams, and he gives an accountof one of his visions in this year, 1534, which, whether regarded as anallegory or as a portent, is somewhat remarkable. "In the year 1534, whenI was as it were groping in the dark, when I had settled naught as to myfuture life, and when my case seemed to grow more desperate day by day, Ibeheld in a dream the figure of myself running towards the base of amountain which stood upon my right hand, in company with a vast crowd ofpeople of every station and age and sex--women, men, old men, boys, infants, poor men and rich men, clad in raiment of every sort. I inquiredwhither we were all running, whereupon one of the multitude answered thatwe were all hastening on to death. I was greatly terrified at these words, when I perceived a mountain on my left hand. Then, having turned myselfround so that it stood on my right side, I grasped the vines (which, herein the midst of the mountains and as far as the place wherein I stood, were covered with dry leaves, and bare of grapes, as we commonly see themin autumn) and began to ascend. At first I found this difficult, for thereason that the mountain was very steep round the base, but havingsurmounted this I made my way upward easily. When I had come to the summitit seemed that I was like to pass beyond the dictates of my own will. Steep naked rocks appeared on every side, and I narrowly escaped fallingdown from a great height into a gloomy chasm. So dreadful is all this thatnow, what though forty years have rolled away, the memory thereof stillsaddens and terrifies me. Then, having turned towards the right where Icould see naught but a plain covered with heath, I took that path out offear, and, as I wended thither in reckless mood, I found that I had cometo the entrance of a rude hut, thatched with straw and reeds and rushes, and that I held by my right hand a boy about twelve years of age and cladin a grey garment. Then at this very moment I was aroused from sleep, andmy dream vanished. 

"In this vision was clearly displayed the deathless name which was to bemine, my life of heavy and ceaseless work, my imprisonment, my seasons ofgrievous terror and sadness, and my abiding-place foreshadowed asinhospitable, by the sharp stones I beheld: barren, by the want of treesand of all serviceable plants; but destined to be, nevertheless, in theend happy, and righteous, and easy. This dream told also of my lastingfame in the future, seeing that the vine yields a harvest every year. Asto the boy, if he were indeed my good spirit, the omen was lucky, for Iheld him very close. If he were meant to foreshadow my grandson it wouldbe less fortunate. That cottage in the desert was my hope of rest. Thatoverwhelming horror and the sense of falling headlong may have hadreference to the ruin of my son. [65]

"My second dream occurred a short time after. It seemed to me that my soulwas in the heaven of the moon, freed from the body and all alone, and whenI was bewailing my fate I heard the voice of my father, saying: 'God hasappointed me as a guardian to you. All this region is full of spirits, butthese you cannot see, and you must not speak either to me or to them. Inthis part of heaven you will remain for seven thousand years, and for thesame time in certain other stars, until you come to the eighth. Afterthis you shall enter the kingdom of God. ' I read this dream as follows. Myfather's soul is my tutelary spirit. What could be dearer or moredelightful? The Moon signifies Grammar; Mercury Geometry and Arithmetic;Venus Music, the Art of Divination, and Poetry; the Sun the Moral, andJupiter the Natural, World; Mars Medicine; Saturn Agriculture, theknowledge of plants, and other minor arts. The eighth star stands for agleaning of all mundane things, natural science, and various otherstudies. After dealing with these I shall at last find my rest with thePrince of Heaven. "[66]

FOOTNOTES:

[45] "Nec ullum mihi erat relictum auxilium nisi latrunculorumLudus. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 619. 

[46] From the formation of the League of Cambrai in 1508 to theestablishment of the Imperial supremacy in Italy in 1530, the wholecountry was desolated by the marching and counter-marching of thecontending forces. Milan, lying directly in the path of the French armies, suffered most of all. 

[47] Compare _De Vita Propria_, chaps. Iv. And xxxi. Pp. 13 and 92. 

[48] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxi. P. 92. In taking the other view hewrites: "Vitam ducebam in Saccensi oppido, ut mihi videbar, infelicissime. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 97. 

[49] _De Utilitate_, p. 235. 

[50] He gives a long and interesting sketch of his father-in-law in _DeUtilitate_, p. 370. 

[51] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxvi. P. 68; _Opera_, tom. I. P. 97. 

[52] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xli. P. 149. 

[53] _De Utilitate_, p. 350. 

[54] _De Utilitate_, p. 357: "Nam in urbe nec collegium recipere volebatnec cum aliquo ex illis artem exercere licebat et sine illis difficillimumerat. " He writes thus while describing this particular visit to Milan. 

[55] Ill fortune seems to have pursued the whole family in their relationswith learned societies. "Nam et pater meus ut ab eo accepi, diu iningressu Collegii Jurisconsultorum laboravit, et ego, ut alias testatussum, bis a medicorum Patavino, toties filius meus natu major, a Ticinensi, uterque a Mediolanensi rejecti sumus. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 94. 

[56] _De Utilitate_, p. 358. 

[57] He became a priest, and died Archbishop of Milan in 1552. Cardandedicated to him his first published book, _De Malo Medendi_. 

[58] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvii. P. 119. 

[59] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxv. P. 67. 

[60] The Xenodochium, which was originally a stranger's lodging-house. Bythis time places of this sort had become little else than _succursales_ ofsome religious house. The Governors of the Milanese Xenodochium were thepatrons of the Plat endowment which Cardan afterwards enjoyed. 

[61] "Hoc unum sat scio, ab ineunte ætate me inextinguibili nominisimmortalis cupiditate flagrasse. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 61. 

[62] "Minimo tamen honorario, et illud etiam minimum suasu cujusdam amiciegregii praefecti Xenodochii imminuerunt; ita cum hujus recordor in mentemvenit fabellæ illius Apuleii de annonæ Praefecto. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 64. 

[63] _De Utilitate_, p. 351. 

[64] The following gives a hint as to the treatment followed: "Referantleprosos balneo ejus aquae in qua cadaver ablutum sit, sanari. "--_DeVarietate_, p. 334. 

[65] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvii. P. 121. This dream is also told in _DeLibris Propriis_, Opera, tom. I. P. 64. 

[66] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvii. P. 121. 

CHAPTER IV

JEROME CARDAN is now standing on the brink of authorship. The very titleof his first book, _De Malo Recentiorum Medicorum Medendi Usu_, givesplain indication of the humour which possessed him, when he formulated hissubject and put it in writing. With his temper vexed by the persistentneglect and insult cast upon him by the Milanese doctors he wouldnaturally sit down _con amore_ to compile a list of the errors perpetratedby the ignorance and bungling of the men who affected to despise him, andif his object was to sting the hides of these pundits and arouse them tohostility yet more vehement, he succeeded marvellously well. He wasenabled to launch his book rather by the strength of private friendshipthan by the hope of any commercial success. Whilst at Pavia he had becomeintimate with Ottaviano Scoto, a fellow-student who came from Venice, andin after times he found Ottaviano's purse very useful to his needs. Sincetheir college days Ottaviano's father had died and had left his son tocarry on his calling of printing. In 1536 Jerome bethought him of hisfriend, and sent him the MS. Of the treatise which was to let the worldlearn with what little wisdom it was being doctored. [67]

Ottaviano seems to have expected no profit from this venture, which wasmanifestly undertaken out of a genuine desire to help his friend, and hegenerously bore all the costs. Cardan deemed that, whatever the result ofthe issue of the book might be, it would surely be to his benefit; hehazarded nothing, and the very publication of his work would give him atleast notoriety. It would moreover give him the intense pleasure ofknowing that he was repaying in some measure the debt of vengeance owingto his professional foes. The outcome was exactly the opposite of whatprinter and author had feared and hoped. The success of the book was rapidand great. 

Ottaviano must soon have recouped all the cost of publication; and, whilehe was counting his money, the doctors everywhere were reading Jerome'sbrochure, and preparing a ruthless attack upon the daring censor, who, with the impetuosity of youth, had laid himself open to attack by thecareless fashion in which he had compiled his work. He took fifteen daysto write it, and he confesses in his preface to the revised edition thathe found therein over three hundred mistakes of one sort or another. Theattack was naturally led by the Milanese doctors. They demanded to be toldwhy this man, who was not good enough to practise by their sanction, wasgood enough to lay down the laws for the residue of the medical world. They heaped blunder upon blunder, and held him up to ridicule with all thewealth of invective characteristic of the learned controversy of the age. Cardan was deeply humbled and annoyed. "For my opponents, seizing theopportunity, took occasion to assail me through the reasoning of thisbook, and cried out: 'Who can doubt that this man is mad? and that hewould teach a method and a practice of medicine differing from our own, since he has so many hard things to say of our procedure. ' And, as Galensaid, I must in truth have appeared crazy in my efforts to contradict thismultitude raging against me. For, as it was absolutely certain that eitherI or they must be in the wrong, how could I hope to win? Who would take myword against the word of this band of doctors of approved standing, wealthy, for the most part full of years, well instructed, richly clad andcultivated in their bearing, well versed in speaking, supported by crowdsof friends and kinsfolk, raised by popular approval to high position, and, what was more powerful than all else, skilled in every art of cunning anddeceit?"

Cardan had indeed prepared a bitter pill for his foes, but the draughtthey compelled him to swallow was hardly more palatable. The publicationof the book naturally increased the difficulties of his position, and inthis respect tended to make his final triumph all the more noteworthy. 

It was in 1536 that Cardan made his first essay as an author. [68] The nextthree years of his life at Milan were remarkable as years of preparationand accumulation, rather than as years of achievement. He had struck hisfirst blow as a reformer, and, as is often the lot of reformers, his swordhad broken in his hand, and there now rested upon him the sense of failureas a superadded torment. Yet now and again a gleam of consolation woulddisperse the gloom, and advise him that the world was beginning torecognize his existence, and in a way his merits. In this same year hereceived an offer from Pavia of the Professorship of Medicine, but this herefused because he did not see any prospect of being paid for hisservices. His friend Filippo Archinto was loyal still, and zealous inworking for his success, and as he had been recently promoted to highoffice in the Imperial service, his good word might be very valuableindeed. He summoned his _protégé_ to join him at Piacenza, whither he hadgone to meet Paul III. , hoping to advance Cardan's interests with thePope; but though Marshal Brissac, the French king's representative, [69]joined Archinto in advocating his cause, nothing was done, and Jeromereturned disappointed to Milan. 

In these months Cardan, disgusted by the failure of his late attack uponthe fortress of medical authority, turned his back, for a time, upon thestudy of medicine, and gave his attention almost entirely to mathematics, in which his reputation was high enough to attract pupils, and he alwayshad one or more of them in his house, the most noteworthy of whom wasLudovico Ferrari of Bologna, who became afterwards a mathematician ofrepute, and a teacher both at Milan and Bologna. While he was working atthe _De Malo Medendi_, he began a treatise upon Arithmetic, which hededicated to his friend Prior Gaddi; but this work was not published till1539. In 1536 he first heard a report of a fresh and important discoveryin algebra, made by one Scipio Ferreo of Bologna; the prologue to one ofthe most dramatic incidents in his career, an incident which it will benecessary to treat at some length later on. 

Cardan was well aware that his excursions into astrology worked to hisprejudice in public esteem, but in spite of this he could not refraintherefrom. It was during the plentiful leisure of this period that hecast the horoscope of Jesus Christ, a feat which subsequently brought uponhim grave misfortune; a few patients came to him, moved no doubt by thespirit which still prompts people suffering from obscure diseases toconsult professors of healing who are either in revolt or unqualified inpreference to going to the orthodox physician. In connection with thisirregular practice of his he gives a curious story about a certain CountBorromeo. "In 1536, while I was attending professionally in the house ofthe Borromei, it chanced that just about dawn I had a dream in which Ibeheld a serpent of enormous bulk, and I was seized with fear lest Ishould meet my death therefrom. Shortly afterwards there came a messengerto summon me to see the son of Count Carlo Borromeo. I went to the boy, who was about seven years old, and found him suffering from a slightdistemper, but on feeling his pulse I perceived that it failed at everyfourth beat. His mother, the Countess Corona, asked me how he fared, and Ianswered that there was not much fever about him; but that, because hispulse failed at every fourth beat, I was in fear of something, but what itmight be I knew not rightly (but I had not then by me Galen's books on theindications of the pulse). Therefore, as the patient's state changed not, I determined on the third day to give him in small doses the drug called_Diarob: cum Turbit_: I had already written my prescription, and themessenger was just starting with it to the pharmacy, when I remembered mydream. 'How do I know, ' said I to myself, 'that this boy may not be aboutto die as prefigured by the portent above written? and in that case theseother physicians who hate me so bitterly, will maintain he died throughtaking this drug. ' I called to the messenger, and said there was wantingin the prescription something which I desired to add. Then I privatelytore up what I had written, and wrote out another made of pearls, of thehorn of unicorn, [70] and certain gems. The powder was given, and wasfollowed by vomiting. The bystanders perceived that the boy was indeedsick, whereupon they called in three of the chief physicians, one of whomwas in a way friendly to me. They saw the description of the medicine, anddemanded what I would do now. Now although two of these men hated me, itwas not God's will that I should be farther attacked, and they not onlypraised the medicine, but ordered that it should be repeated. This was thesaving of me. When I went again in the evening I understood the casecompletely. The following morning I was summoned at daybreak, and foundthe boy battling with death, and his father lying in tears. 'Behold him, 'he cried, 'the boy whom you declared to ail nothing' (as if indeed I couldhave said such a thing); 'at least you will remain with him as long as helives. ' I promised that I would, and a little later the boy tried to rise, crying out the while. They held him down, and cast all the blame upon me. What more is there to say? If there had been found any trace of that drug_Diarob: cum Turbit_: (which in sooth was not safe) it would have been allover with me, since Borromeo all his life would either have launchedagainst me complaints grave enough to make all men shun me, or anotherCanidia, more fatal than African serpents, would have breathed poison uponme. "[71]

In this same year, 1536, Lucia brought forth another child, a daughter, and it was about this time that Cardan first attracted the attention ofAlfonso d'Avalos, the Governor of Milan, and an intimacy began which, albeit fruitless at first, was destined to be of no slight service toJerome at the crisis of his fortunes. [72] In the following year, in 1537, he made a beginning of two of his books, which were subsequently foundworthy of being finished, and which may still be read with a certaininterest: the treatises _De Sapientia_ and _De Consolatione_. Of thelast-named, he remarks that it pleased no one, forasmuch as it appealednot to those who were happy, and the wretched rejected it as entirelyinadequate to give them solace in their evil case. In this year he madeanother attempt to gain admission to the College at Milan, and was againrejected; the issue of the _De Malo Medendi_ was too recent, and it neededother and more potent influences than those exercised by mere merit, toappease the fury of his rivals and to procure him due status. But it wouldappear that, in 1536 or 1537, he negotiated with the College to obtain aquasi-recognition on conditions which he afterwards describes asdisgraceful to himself, and that this was granted to him. [73]

Whatever his qualifications may have been, Cardan had no scruples intreating the few patients who came to him. The first case he notes is thatof Donato Lanza, [74] a druggist, who had suffered for many years withblood-spitting, which ailment he treated successfully. Success of thissort was naturally helpful, but far more important than Lanza's cure wasthe introduction given by the grateful patient to the physician, commending him to Francesco Sfondrato, a noble Milanese, a senator, and amember of the Emperor's privy council. The eldest son of this gentlemanhad suffered many months from convulsions, and Cardan worked a cure in hiscase without difficulty. Shortly afterwards another child, only ten monthsold, was attacked by the same complaint, and was treated by Luca dellaCroce, the procurator of the College of Physicians, of which Sfondrato wasa patron. As the attack threatened to be a serious one, Della Crocerecommended that another physician, Ambrogio Cavenago, should be calledin, but the father, remembering Cardan's cure of Lanza, wished for him aswell. The description of the meeting of the doctors round the sick child'sbed, of their quotations from Hippocrates, of the uncertainty andhelplessness of the orthodox practitioners, and of the ready resource ofthe free-lance--who happens also to be the teller of the story--is arichly typical one. [75] "We, the physicians and the father of the child, met about seven in the morning, and Della Croce made a few generalobservations on death, for he knew that Sfondrato was a sensible man, andhe himself was both honoured and learned. Cavenago kept silence at thisstage, because the last word had been granted to him. Then I said, 'Do younot see that the child is suffering from Opisthotonos?' whereupon thefirst physician stood as one dazed, as if I were trying to trouble hiswits by my hard words. But Della Croce at once swept aside all uncertaintyby saying, 'He means the backward contraction of the muscles. ' I confirmedhis words, and added, 'I will show you what I mean. ' Whereupon I raisedthe boy's head, which the doctors and all the rest believed was hangingdown through weakness, and by its own weight, and bade them put it intoits former position. Then Sfondrato turned to me, and said, 'As you havediscovered what the disease is, tell us likewise what is the remedytherefor. ' Since no one else spoke, I turned towards him and--careful lestI should do hurt to the credit I had gained already, --I said, 'You knowwhat Hippocrates lays down in a case like this--_febrem convulsioni_'--andI recited the aphorism. Then I ordered a fomentation, and an applicationof lint moistened with linseed-oil and oil of lilies, and gave directionsthat the child should be gently handled until such time as the neckshould be restored; that the nurse should eat no meat, and that the childshould be nourished entirely by the milk of her breast, and not too muchof that; that it should be kept in its cradle in a warm place, and rockedgently till it should fall asleep. After the other physicians had gone, Iremember that the father of the child said to me, 'I give you this childfor your own, ' and that I answered, 'You are doing him an ill turn, inthat you are supplanting his rich father by a poor one. ' He answered, 'Iam sure that you would care for him as if he were your own, fearing naughtthat you might thereby give offence to these others' (meaning thephysicians). I said, 'It would please me well to work with them ineverything, and to win their support. ' I thus blended my words, so that hemight understand I neither despaired of the child's cure, nor was quiteconfident thereanent. The cure came to a favourable end; for, after thefourteenth day of the fever--the weather being very warm--the child gotwell in four days' time. Now as I review the circumstances, I am ofopinion that it was not because I perceived what the disease really was, for I might have done so much by reason of my special practice; norbecause I healed the child, for that might have been attributed to chance;but because the child got well in four days, whereas his brother lay illfor six months, and was then left half dead, that his father was so muchamazed at my skill, and afterwards preferred me to all others. That hethought well of me is certain, because Della Croce himself, during thetime of his procuratorship, was full of spite and jealousy against me, anddeclared in the presence of Cavenago and of Sfondrato, that he would not, under compulsion, say a word in favour of a man like me, one whom theCollege regarded with disfavour. Whereupon Sfondrato saw that the envyand jealousy of the other physicians was what kept me out of the College, and not the circumstances of my birth. He told the whole story to theSenate, and brought such influence to bear upon the Governor of theProvince and other men of worship, that at last the entrance to theCollege was opened to me. "

Up to the time of his admission to the College, Jerome had never felt thathe could depend entirely upon medicine for his livelihood. He nowdetermined to publish his _Practica Arithmeticæ_, the book which he hadprepared _pari passu_ with the ill-starred _De Malo Medendi_. It seems tohave been thoroughly revised and corrected, and was finally published in1539, in Milan; Cardan only received ten crowns for his work, but thesudden fame he achieved as a mathematician ought to have set him on firmground. His friends were still working to secure for him benefits yet moresubstantial. Alfonso d'Avalos, Francesco della Croce, the jurisconsultwhose name has already been mentioned, and the senator Sfondrato, weredoing their best to bring the physicians of the city into a morereasonable temper, and they finally succeeded in 1539; when, after havingbeen denied admission for twelve years, Jerome Cardan became a member ofthe College, and a sharer in all the privileges appertaining thereto. 

Though Cardan was now a fully qualified physician, he spent his time forthe next year or two rather with letters than with medicine. He workedhard at Greek, and as the result of his studies published somewhatprematurely a treatise, _De Immortalitate Animorum_, a collection ofextracts from Greek writers which Julius Cæsar Scaliger with justicecalls a confused farrago of other men's learning. [76] He published alsoabout this period the treatise on Judicial Astrology, and the Essay _DeConsolatione_, the only one of his books which has been found worthy of anEnglish translation. [77] In 1541 he became Rector of the College ofPhysicians, but there is no record of any increase in the number of hispatients by reason of this superadded dignity. A passage in the _De VitaPropria_, written with even more than his usual brutal candour, gives agraphic view of his manner of life at this period. "It was in the summerof the year 1543, a time when it was my custom to go every day to thehouse of Antonio Vicomercato, a gentleman of the city, and to play chesswith him from morning till night. As we were wont to play for one real, oreven three or four, on each game, I, seeing that I was generally thewinner, would as a rule carry away with me a gold piece after each day'splay, sometimes more and sometimes less. In the case of Vicomercato it wasa pleasure and nothing else to spend money in this wise; but in my ownthere was an element of conflict as well; and in this manner I lost myself-respect so completely that, for two years and more, I took no thoughtof practising my art, nor considered that I was wasting all mysubstance--save what I made by play--that my good name and my studies aswell would suffer shipwreck. But on a certain day towards the end ofAugust, a new humour seized Vicomercato (either advisedly on account ofthe constant loss he suffered, or perhaps because he thought his decisionwould be for my benefit), a determination from which he was to be movedneither by arguments, nor adjurations, nor abuse. He forced me to swearthat I would never again visit his house for the sake of gaming, and I, onmy part, swore by all the gods as he wished. That day's play was our last, and thenceforth I gave myself up entirely to my studies. "[78]

But these studies unfortunately were not of a nature to keep the wolf fromthe door; and Jerome, albeit now a duly qualified physician, and known tofame as a writer on Mathematics far beyond the bounds of Italy, waswell-nigh as poor as ever. His mother had died several years before, in1537; but what little money she may have left would soon have been wastedin gratifying his extravagant taste for costly things, [79] and at thegaming-table. He found funds, however, for a journey to Florence, whitherhe went to see d'Avalos, who was a generous, open-handed man, and alwaysready to put his purse at the service of one whom he regarded as an honourto his city and country. There can be little doubt that he helped Cardanliberally at this juncture. The need for a loan was assuredly urgentenough. The recent resumption of hostilities between the French and theImperialists had led to intolerable taxation throughout the Milaneseprovinces, and in consequence of dearth of funds in 1543, the Academy atPavia was forced to close its class-rooms, and leave its teachers unpaid. The greater part of the professors migrated to Pisa; and the Faculty ofMedicine, then vacant, was, _pro formâ_, transferred to Milan. This chairwas now offered to Cardan. He was in desperate straits--a third child hadbeen born this year--and, though there must have been even less chance ofgetting his salary paid than when he had refused it before, he acceptedthe post, explaining that he took this step because there was now no needfor him to leave Milan, or danger that he would be rated as an itinerantteacher. It is not improbable that he may have been led to accept theoffice on account of the additional dignity it would give to him as apractising physician. When, a little later on, the authorities began totalk of returning to Pavia, he was in no mind to follow them, giving as areason that, were he to leave Milan, he would lose his stipend for thePlat lectureship, and be put to great trouble in the transport of hishousehold, and perhaps suffer in reputation as well. The Senate wasevidently anxious to retain his services. They bade him consider thematter, promising to send on a certain date to learn his decision; and, asfate would have it, the question was conveniently decided for him by aportent. 

"On the night before the day upon which my answer was to be sent to theSenate to say what course I was going to take, the whole of the house felldown into a heap of ruins, and no single thing was left unwrecked, savethe bed in which I and my wife and my children were sleeping. Thus thestep, which I should never have taken of my own free will or without somesign, I was compelled to take by the course of events. This thing causedgreat wonder to all those who heard of it. "[80]

This was in 1544. Jerome hesitated no longer, and went forthwith to Paviaas Professor of Medicine at a salary of two hundred and forty gold crownsper annum; but, for the first year at least, this salary was not paid;and the new professor lectured for a time to empty benches; but, as he wasat this time engaged in the final stage of his great work on Algebra, theleisure granted to him by the neglect of the students must have been mostacceptable. He published at this time a treatise called _ContradicentiumMedicorum_, and in 1545 his _Algebra_ or _Liber Artis Magnæ_ was issuedfrom the press by Petreius of Nuremberg. The issue of this book, by whichalone the name of Cardan holds a place in contemporary learning, isconnected with an episode of his life important enough to demand specialand detailed consideration in a separate place. 

His practice in medicine was now a fairly lucrative one, but hisextravagant tastes and the many vices with which he charges himself wouldhave made short work of the largest income he could possibly have earned, consequently poverty was never far removed from the household. Hithertohis reputation as a man of letters and a mathematician had exceeded hisfame as a doctor; for, even after he had taken up his residence asProfessor of Medicine at Padua, many applications were made to him for hisservices in other branches of learning. It was fortunate indeed that hehad let his reading take a somewhat eclectic course, for medicine at thistime seemed fated to play him false. At the end of 1544 no salary wasforthcoming at Pavia, so he abandoned his class-room, and returned toMilan. 

During his residence there, in the summer of 1546, Cardinal Moroni, actingon behalf of Pope Paul III. , made an offer for his services as a teacherof mathematics, accompanied by terms which, as he himself admits, were notto be despised; but, as was his wont, he found some reason for demur, andultimately refused the offer. In his Harpocratic vein he argued, "Thispope is an old man, a tottering wall, as it were. Why should I abandon acertainty for an uncertainty?"[81] The certainty he here alludes to musthave been the salary for the Plat lectureship; and, as this emolument wasa very small one, it would appear that he did not rate at a high figureany profits which might come to him in the future from his acceptance ofthe Pope's offer; but, as he admits subsequently, he did not then fullyrealize the benevolence of the Cardinal who approached him on the subject, or the magnificent patronage of the Farnesi. [82] It is quite possible thatthis refusal of his may have been caused by a reluctance to quit Milan, the city which had treated him in such cruel and inhospitable fashion, just at the time when he had become a man of mark. In the arrogance ofsuccess it was doubtless a keen pleasure to let his fellow-townsmen seethat the man upon whom they had heaped insult after insult for so manyyears was one who could afford to let Popes and Cardinals pray for hisservices in vain. But whatever may have been his humour, he resolved toremain in Milan; and, as he had no other public duty to perform except thedelivery of the Plat lectures, he had abundant leisure to spend upon themany and important works he had on hand at this season. 

Cardan had now achieved European fame, and was apparently on the highroad to fortune, but on the very threshold of his triumph a great sorrowand misfortune befell him, the full effect of which he did not experienceall at once. In the closing days of 1546 he lost his wife. There is veryscant record of her life and character in any of her husband'swritings, [83] although he wrote at great length concerning her father; andthe few words that are to be found here and there favour the view that shewas a good wife and mother. That Jerome could have been an easy husband tolive with under any circumstances it is hard to believe. Lucia's life, hadit been prolonged, might have been more free of trouble as the wife of afamous and wealthy physician; but it was her ill fortune to be thecompanion of her husband only in those dreary, terrible days at Sacco andGallarate, and in the years of uncertainty which followed the final returnto Milan. In the last-named period there was at least the Plat lectureshipstanding between them and starvation; but children increased the while inthe nursery, and manuscripts in the desk of the physician withoutpatients, and Lucia's short life was all consumed in this weary time ofwaiting for fame and fortune which, albeit hovering near, seemed destinedto mock and delude the seeker to the end. Cardan was before all else a manof books and of the study, and it is not rare to find that one of thissort makes a harsh unsympathetic husband. The qualities which heattributes to himself in his autobiography suggest that to live with a mancursed with such a nature would have been difficult even in prosperity, and intolerable in trouble and privation. But fretful and irascible asCardan shows himself to have been, there was a warm-hearted, affectionateside to his nature. He was capable of steadfast devotion to all those towhom his love had ever been given. His reverence for the memory of histyrannical and irascible father had been noted already, and a still moreremarkable instance of his fidelity and love will have to be consideredwhen the time comes to deal with the crowning tragedy of his life. IfCardan had this tender side to his nature, if he could speak tolerant andeven laudatory words concerning such a father as Fazio Cardano, and showevidences of a love strong as death in the fight he made for the life ofhis ill-starred and unworthy son, it may be hoped--in spite of his almostunnatural silence concerning her--that he gave Lucia some of thattenderness and sympathy which her life of hard toil and heavy sacrifice sorichly deserved; and that even in the days when he sold her trinkets topay his gambling losses, she was not destined to weep the bitter tears ofa neglected wife. If her early married life had been full of care andtravail, if she died when a better day seemed to be dawning, she was atleast spared the supreme sorrow and disgrace which was destined to fall sosoon upon the household. Judging by what subsequently happened, it willperhaps be held that fate, in cutting her thread of life, was kinder toher than to her husband, when it gave him a longer term of years under thesun. 

FOOTNOTES:

[67] _De Libris Propriis_, Opera, tom. I. P. 102. 

[68] Besides the _De Malo Medendi Usu_, he published in 1536 a tract uponjudicial astrology. This, in an enlarged form, was reprinted by Petreiusat Nuremburg in 1542. 

[69] Cardan writes of Brissac: "Erat enim Brissacus Prorex singularis instudiosis amoris et humanitatis. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 14. 

[70] "Mirumque in modum venenis cornu ejus adversari creditur. "--_DeSubtilitate_, p. 315. Sir Thomas Browne (_Vulgar Errors_, Bk. Iii. 23)deals at length with the pretended virtues of the horn, and in theBestiary of Philip de Thaun (_Popular Treatises on Science during theMiddle Ages_) is given an account of the many wonderful qualities of thebeast. 

[71] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxiii. P. 105. He also alludes to this casein _De Libris Propriis_ (Opera, tom. I. P. 65), affirming that the otherdoctors concerned in the case raised a great prejudice against him onaccount of his reputation as an astrologer. "Ita tot modis et insanuspaupertate, et Astrologus profitendo edendoque libros, et imperitus casuillustris pueri, et modum alium medendi observans ex titulo libri nuperedito, jam prope ab omnibus habebar. Atque hæc omnia in Urbe omniumnugacissima, et quæ calumniis maximè patet. "

[72] The founder of this family was Indico d'Avalos, a Spanish gentleman, who was chosen by Alfonso of Naples as a husband for Antonella, thedaughter and heiress of the great Marchese Pescara of Aquino. Thisd'Avalos Marchese dal Guasto was the grandson of Indico. He commanded theadvanced guard at the battle of Pavia, and took part in almost everybattle between the French and Imperialists, and went with the Emperor toTunis in 1535. Though he was a brave soldier and a skilful tactician, hewas utterly defeated by d'Enghien at Cerisoles in 1544. He has been taxedwith treachery in the case of the attack upon the messengers Rincon andFregoso, who were carrying letters from Francis I. To the Sultan during atruce, but he did little more than imitate the tactics used by the Frenchagainst himself; moreover, neither of the murdered men was a Frenchsubject, or had the status of an ambassador. D'Avalos was a liberal patronof letters and arts, and was very popular as Governor of Milan. He was anoted gallant and a great dandy. Brantôme writes of him--"qu'il était sidameret qu'il parfumait jusqu'aux selles de ses chevaux. "--He died in1546. 

[73] "Violentia quorundam Medicorum adactus sum anno MDXXXVI, seu XXXVII, turpi conditione pacisci cum Collegio, sed ut dixi, postmodum dissolutaest, anno MDXXXIX et restitutus sum integrè. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxiii. P. 105. 

[74] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xl. P. 133. --He gives a long list of cases ofhis successful treatment in _Opera_, tom. I. P. 82. 

[75] There is a full account of this episode in _De Libris Propriis_, p. 128, and in _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xl. P. 133. 

[76] Exotericarum exercitationum, p. 987. 

[77] _Cardanus Comforte, translated into Englishe_, 1573. It was the workof Thomas Bedingfield, a gentleman pensioner of Queen Elizabeth. 

[78] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvii. P. 116. 

[79] "Delectant me gladii parvi, seu styli scriptorii, in quos plusviginti coronatis aureis impendi: multas etiam pecunias in varia pennarumgenera, audeo dicere apparatum ad scribendum ducentis coronatis nonpotuisse emi. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xviii. P. 57. 

[80] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 15. 

[81] "At ego qui, ut dixi, Harpocraticus sum dicebam:--Summus Pont:decrepitus est: murus ruinosus, certa pro incertis derelinquam?"--_De VitaPropria_, ch. Iv. P. 15. It is quite possible that Paul III. May havedesired to have Cardan about him on account of his reputation as anastrologer, the Pope being a firm believer in the influence of thestars. --_Vide_ Ranke, _History of the Popes_ i. 166. 

[82] "Neque ego tum Moroni probitatem, nec Pharnesiorum splendoremintelligebam. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 15. 

[83] In writing of his own horoscope (_Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 461) herecords that she miscarried thrice, brought forth three living children, and lived with him fifteen years. He dismisses his marriage as follows:"Duxi uxorem inexpectato, a quo tempore multa adversa concomitatasunt. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xli. P. 149. But in _De Rerum Subtilitate_, p. 375, he records his grief at her death:--"Itaque cum a luctu dolor etvigilia invadere soleant, ut mihi anno vertente in morte uxoris LuciæBandarenæ quanquam institutis philosophiæ munitus essem, repugnante tamennatura, memorque vinculi c[o=]jugalis, suspiriis ac lachrymis et inediaquinque dierum, a periculo me vindicavi. "

CHAPTER V

AT this point it may not be inopportune to make a break in the record ofCardan's life and work, and to treat in retrospect of that portion of histime which he spent in the composition of his treatises on Arithmetic andAlgebra. Ever since 1535 he had been working intermittently at one orother of these, but it would have been impossible to deal coherently andeffectively with the growth and completion of these two books--really themost important of all he left behind him--while chronicling the goings andcomings of a life so adventurous as that of the author. 

The prime object of Cardan's ambition was eminence as a physician. But, during the long years of waiting, while the action of the Milanese doctorskept him outside the bounds of their College, and even after this had beenopened to him without inducing ailing mortals to call for his services, hewould now and again fall into a transport of rage against his persecutors, and of contempt for the public which refused to recognize him as a masterof his art, and cast aside his medical books for months at a time, devoting himself diligently to Mathematics, the field of learning which, next to Medicine, attracted him most powerfully. His father Fazio was ageometrician of repute and a student of applied mathematics, and, thoughhis first desire was to make his son a jurisconsult, he gave Jerome inearly youth a fairly good grounding in arithmetic and geometry, deemingprobably that such training would not prove a bad discipline for anintellect destined to attack those formidable tomes within which lurkedthe mysteries of the Canon and Civil Law. Mathematical learning has givento Cardan his surest title to immortality, and at the outset of his careerhe found in mathematics rather than in medicine the first support in thearduous battle he had to wage with fortune. His appointment to the Platlectureship at Milan has already been noted. In the discharge of his newduties he was bound, according to the terms of the endowment of the Platlecturer, to teach the sciences of geometry, arithmetic, and astronomy, and he began his course upon the lines laid down by the founder. Fewlisteners came, however, and at this juncture Cardan took a step whichserves to show how real was his devotion to the cause of true learning, and how lightly he thought of an additional burden upon his own back, ifthis cause could be helped forward thereby. Keenly as he enjoyed hismathematical work, he laid a part of it aside when he perceived that thebenches before him were empty, and, by way of making his lectures moreattractive, he occasionally substituted geography for geometry, andarchitecture for arithmetic. The necessary research and the preparation ofthese lectures led naturally to the accumulation of a large mass of notes, and as these increased under his hand Jerome began to consider whether itmight not be worth his while to use them in the composition of one or morevolumes. In 1535 he delivered as Plat lecturer his address, the _EncomiumGeometriæ_, which he followed up shortly after by the publication of awork, _Quindecim Libri Novæ Geometriæ_. But the most profitable labour ofthese years was that which produced his first important book, _ThePractice of Arithmetic and Simple Mensuration_, which was published in1539, a venture which brought to the author a reward of ten crowns. [84] Itwas a well-planned and well-arranged manual, giving proof of the wideerudition and sense of proportion possessed by the author. Besides dealingwith Arithmetic as understood by the modern school-boy, it discussescertain astronomical operations, multiplication by memory, the mysteriesof the Roman and Ecclesiastical Calendars, and gives rules for thesolution of any problem arising from the terms of the same. It treats ofpartnership in agriculture, the Mezzadria system still prevalent inTuscany and in other parts of Italy, of the value of money, of the strangeproperties of certain numbers, and gives the first simple rules of Algebrato serve as stepping-stones to the higher mathematics. It ends withinformation as to house-rent, letters of credit and exchange, tables ofinterest, games of chance, mensuration, and weights and measures. In anappendix Cardan examines critically the work of Fra Luca Pacioli da Borgo, an earlier writer on the subject, and points out numerous errors in thesame. The book from beginning to end shows signs of careful study andcompilation, and the fame which it brought to its author was welldeserved. 

Cardan appended to the Arithmetic a printed notice which may be regardedas an early essay in advertising. He was fully convinced that his workswere valuable and quite worth the sums of money he asked for them; theworld was blind, perhaps wilfully, to their merits, therefore he nowdetermined that it should no longer be able to quote ignorance of theauthor as an excuse for not buying the book. This appendix was anotification to the learned men of Europe that the writer of the _Practiceof Arithmetic_ had in his press at home thirty-four other works in MS. Which they might read with profit, and that of these only two had beenprinted, to wit the _De Malo Medendi Usu_ and a tract on _Simples_. Thisadvertisement had something of the character of a legal document, for itinvoked the authority of the Emperor to protect the copyright of Cardan'sbooks within the Duchy of Milan for ten years, and to prevent theintroduction of them from abroad. 

The Arithmetic proved far superior to any other treatise extant, andeverywhere won the approval of the learned. It was from Nuremberg that itsappearance brought the most valuable fruits. Andreas Osiander, [85] alearned humanist and a convert to Lutheranism, and Johannes Petreius, aneminent printer, were evidently impressed by the terms of Cardan'sadvertisement, for they wrote to him and offered in combination to editand print any of the books awaiting publication in his study at Milan. Theresult of this offer was the reprinting of _De Malo Medendi_, andsubsequently of the tract on Judicial Astrology, and of the treatise _DeConsolatione_; the _Book of the Great Art_, the treatises _De Sapientia_and _De Immortalitate Animorum_ were published in the first instance bythese same patrons from the Nuremberg press. 

But Cardan, while he was hard at work on his Arithmetic, had not forgottena certain report which had caused no slight stir in the world ofMathematics some three years before the issue of his book on Arithmetic, an episode which may be most fittingly told in his own words. "At thistime[86] it happened that there came to Milan a certain Brescian namedGiovanni Colla, a man of tall stature, and very thin, pale, swarthy, andhollow-eyed. He was of gentle manners, slow in gait, sparing of his words, full of talent, and skilled in mathematics. His business was to bring wordto me that there had been recently discovered two new rules in Algebra forthe solution of problems dealing with cubes and numbers. I asked him whohad found them out, whereupon he told me the name of the discoverer wasScipio Ferreo of Bologna. 'And who else knows these rules?' I said. Heanswered, 'Niccolo Tartaglia and Antonio Maria Fiore. ' And indeed sometime later Tartaglia, when he came to Milan, explained them to me, thoughunwillingly; and afterwards I myself, when working with LudovicoFerrari, [87] made a thorough study of the rules aforesaid. We devisedcertain others, heretofore unnoticed, after we had made trial of these newrules, and out of this material I put together my _Book of the GreatArt_. "[88]

Before dealing with the events which led to the composition of the famouswork above-named, it may be permitted to take a rapid survey of thecondition of Algebra at the time when Cardan sat down to write. Up to thebeginning of the sixteenth century the knowledge of Algebra in Italy, originally derived from Greek and Arabic sources, had made very littleprogress, and the science had been developed no farther than to providefor the solution of equations of the first or second degree. [89] In thepreface to the _Liber Artis Magnæ_ Cardan writes:--"This art takes itsorigin from a certain Mahomet, the son of Moses, an Arabian, a fact towhich Leonard the Pisan bears ample testimony. He left behind him fourrules, with his demonstrations of the same, which I duly ascribe to him intheir proper place. After a long interval of time, some student, whoseidentity is uncertain, deduced from the original four rules three others, which Luca Paciolus put with the original ones into his book. Then threemore were discovered from the original rules, also by some one unknown, but these attracted very little notice though they were far more usefulthan the others, seeing that they taught how to arrive at the value of the_cubus_ and the _numerus_ and of the _cubus quadratus_. [90] But in recenttimes Scipio Ferreo of Bologna discovered the rule of the _cubus_ and the_res_ equal to the _numerus_ (_x^3 + px=q_), truly a beautiful andadmirable discovery. For this Algebraic art outdoes all other subtlety ofman, and outshines the clearest exposition mortal wit can achieve: aheavenly gift indeed, and a test of the powers of a man's mind. Soexcellent is it in itself that whosoever shall get possession thereof, will be assured that no problem exists too difficult for him todisentangle. As a rival of Ferreo, Niccolo Tartaglia of Brescia, myfriend, at that time when he engaged in a contest with Antonio MariaFiore, the pupil of Ferreo, made out this same rule to help secure thevictory, and this rule he imparted to me after I had diligently besoughthim thereanent. I, indeed, had been deceived by the words of LucaPaciolus, who denied that there could be any general rule besides thesewhich he had published, so I was not moved to seek that which I despairedof finding; but, having made myself master of Tartaglia's method ofdemonstration, I understood how many other results might be attained; and, having taken fresh courage, I worked these out, partly by myself andpartly by the aid of Ludovico Ferrari, a former pupil of mine. Now all thediscoveries made by the men aforesaid are here marked with their names. Those unsigned were found out by me; and the demonstrations are all mine, except three discovered by Mahomet and two by Ludovico. "[91]

This is Cardan's account of the scheme and origin of his book, and thesucceeding pages will be mainly an amplification thereof. The earliestwork on Algebra used in Italy was a translation of the MS. Treatise ofMahommed ben Musa of Corasan, and next in order is a MS. Written by acertain Leonardo da Pisa in 1202. Leonardo was a trader, who had learnedthe art during his voyages to Barbary, and his treatise and that ofMahommed were the sole literature on the subject up to the year 1494, whenFra Luca Pacioli da Borgo[92] brought out his volume treating ofArithmetic and Algebra as well. This was the first printed work on thesubject. 

After the invention of printing the interest in Algebra grew rapidly. Fromthe time of Leonardo to that of Fra Luca it had remained stationary. Theimportant fact that the resolution of all the cases of a problem may becomprehended in a simple formula, which may be obtained from the solutionof one of its cases merely by a change of the signs, was not known, but in1505 the Scipio Ferreo alluded to by Cardan, a Bolognese professor, discovered the rule for the solution of one case of a compound cubicequation. This was the discovery that Giovanni Colla announced when hewent to Milan in 1536. 

Cardan was then working hard at his Arithmetic--which dealt also withelementary Algebra--and he was naturally anxious to collect in its pagesevery item of fresh knowledge in the sphere of mathematics which mighthave been discovered since the publication of the last treatise. The factthat Algebra as a science had made such scant progress for so many years, gave to this new process, about which Giovanni Colla was talking, anextraordinary interest in the sight of all mathematical students;wherefore when Cardan heard the report that Antonio Maria Fiore, Ferreo'spupil, had been entrusted by his master with the secret of this newprocess, and was about to hold a public disputation at Venice with NiccoloTartaglia, a mathematician of considerable repute, he fancied thatpossibly there would be game about well worth the hunting. 

Fiore had already challenged divers opponents of less weight in the othertowns of Italy, but now that he ventured to attack the well-known Brescianstudent, mathematicians began to anticipate an encounter of more thancommon interest. According to the custom of the time, a wager was laid onthe result of the contest, and it was settled as a preliminary that eachone of the competitors should ask of the other thirty questions. Forseveral weeks before the time fixed for the contest Tartaglia studiedhard; and such good use did he make of his time that, when the day of theencounter came, he not only fathomed the formula upon which Fiore's hopeswere based, but, over and beyond this, elaborated two other cases of hisown which neither Fiore nor his master Ferreo had ever dreamt of. 

The case which Ferreo had solved by some unknown process was the equation_x^3 + px = q_, and the new forms of cubic equation which Tartagliaelaborated were as follows: _x^3 + px^2 = q_: and _x^3 - px^2 = q_. Beforethe date of the meeting, Tartaglia was assured that the victory would behis, and Fiore was probably just as confident. Fiore put his questions, all of which hinged upon the rule of Ferreo which Tartaglia had alreadymastered, and these questions his opponent answered without difficulty;but when the turn of the other side came, Tartaglia completely puzzled theunfortunate Fiore, who managed indeed to solve one of Tartaglia'squestions, but not till after all his own had been answered. By thistriumph the fame of Tartaglia spread far and wide, and Jerome Cardan, inconsequence of the rumours of the Brescian's extraordinary skill, becamemore anxious than ever to become a sharer in the wonderful secret by meansof which he had won his victory. 

Cardan was still engaged in working up his lecture notes on Arithmeticinto the Treatise when this contest took place; but it was not till fouryears later, in 1539, that he took any steps towards the prosecution ofhis design. If he knew anything of Tartaglia's character, and it isreasonable to suppose that he did, he would naturally hesitate to make anypersonal appeal to him, and trust to chance to give him an opportunity ofgaining possession of the knowledge aforesaid, rather than seek it at thefountain-head. Tartaglia was of very humble birth, and according to reportalmost entirely self-educated. Through a physical injury which he met within childhood his speech was affected; and, according to the common Italianusage, a nickname[93] which pointed to this infirmity was given to him. The blow on the head, dealt to him by some French soldier at the sack ofBrescia in 1512, may have made him a stutterer, but it assuredly did notmuddle his wits; nevertheless, as the result of this knock, or for someother cause, he grew up into a churlish, uncouth, and ill-mannered man, and, if the report given of him by Papadopoli[94] at the end of hishistory be worthy of credit, one not to be entirely trusted as anautobiographer in the account he himself gives of his early days in thepreface to one of his works. Papadopoli's notice of him states that he wasin no sense the self-taught scholar he represented himself to be, but thathe was indebted for some portion at least of his training to thebeneficence of a gentleman named Balbisono, [95] who took him to Padua tostudy. From the passage quoted below he seems to have failed to win thegoodwill of the Brescians, and to have found Venice a city more to histaste. It is probable that the contest with Fiore took place after hisfinal withdrawal from his birthplace to Venice. 

In 1537 Tartaglia published a treatise on Artillery, but he gave no signof making public to the world his discoveries in Algebra. Cardan waitedon, but the morose Brescian would not speak, and at last he determined tomake a request through a certain Messer Juan Antonio, a bookseller, that, in the interests of learning, he might be made a sharer of Tartaglia'ssecret. Tartaglia has given a version of this part of the transaction;and, according to what is there set down, Cardan's request, even whenrecorded in Tartaglia's own words, does not appear an unreasonable one, for up to this time Tartaglia had never announced that he had anyintention of publishing his discoveries as part of a separate work onMathematics. There was indeed a good reason why he should refrain fromdoing this in the fact that he could only speak and write Italian, andthat in the Brescian dialect, being entirely ignorant of Latin, the onlytongue which the writer of a mathematical work could use with any hope ofsuccess. Tartaglia's record of his conversation with Messer Juan Antonio, the emissary employed by Cardan, and of all the subsequent details of thecontroversy, is preserved in his principal work, _Quesiti et InventioniDiverse de Nicolo Tartalea Brisciano_, [96] a record which furnishesabundant and striking instance of his jealous and suspicious temper. Muchof it is given in the form of dialogue, the terms of which are perhaps alittle too precise to carry conviction of its entire sincerity andspontaneity. It was probably written just after the final cause of quarrelin 1545, and its main object seems to be to set the author right in thesight of the world, and to exhibit Cardan as a meddlesome fellow not to betrusted, and one ignorant of the very elements of the art he professed toteach. [97]

The inquiry begins with a courteously worded request from Messer JuanAntonio (speaking on behalf of Messer Hieronimo Cardano), that MesserNiccolo would make known to his principal the rule by means of which hehad made such short work of Antonio Fiore's thirty questions. It had beentold to Messer Hieronimo that Fiore's thirty questions had led up to acase of the _cosa_ and the _cubus_ equal to the _numerus_, and thatMesser Niccolo had discovered a general rule for such case. MesserHieronimo now especially desired to be taught this rule. If the inventorshould be willing to let this rule be published, it should be published ashis own discovery; but, if he were not disposed to let the same be madeknown to the world, it should be kept a profound secret. To this requestTartaglia replied that, if at any time he might publish his rule, he wouldgive it to the world in a work of his own under his own name, whereuponJuan Antonio moderated his demand, and begged to be furnished merely witha copy of the thirty questions preferred by Fiore, and Tartaglia'ssolutions of the same; but Messer Niccolo was too wary a bird to be takenwith such a lure as this. To grant so much, he replied, would be to telleverything, inasmuch as Cardan could easily find out the rule, if heshould be furnished with a single question and its solution. Next JuanAntonio handed to Tartaglia eight algebraical questions which had beenconfided to him by Cardan, and asked for answers to them; but Tartaglia, having glanced at them, declared that they were not framed by Cardan atall, but by Giovanni Colla. Colla, he declared, had sent him one of thesequestions for solution some two years ago. Another, he (Tartaglia) hadgiven to Colla, together with a solution thereof. Juan Antonio replied byway of contradiction--somewhat lamely--that the questions had been handedover to him by Cardan and no one else, wishing to maintain, apparently, that no one else could possibly have been concerned in them, whereuponTartaglia replied that, supposing the questions had been given by Cardanto Juan Antonio his messenger, Cardan must have got the questions fromColla, and have sent them on to him (Tartaglia) for solution because hecould not arrive at the meaning of them himself. He waved aside JuanAntonio's perfectly irrelevant and fatuous protests--that Cardan would notin any case have sent these questions if they had been framed by anotherperson, or if he had been unable to solve them. Tartaglia, on the otherhand, declared that Cardan certainly did not comprehend them. If he didnot know the rule by which Fiore's questions had been answered (that ofthe _cosa_ and the _cubus_ equal to the _numerus_), how could he solvethese questions which he now sent, seeing that certain of them involvedoperations much more complicated than that of the rule above written? Ifhe understood the questions which he now sent for solution, he could notwant to be taught this rule. Then Juan Antonio moderated his demand stillfarther, and said he would be satisfied with a copy of the questions whichFiore had put to Tartaglia, adding that the favour would be much greaterif Tartaglia's own questions were also given. He probably felt that itwould be mere waste of breath to beg again for Tartaglia's answers. Theend of the matter was that Tartaglia handed over to the messenger thequestions which Fiore had propounded in the Venetian contest, andauthorized Juan Antonio to get a copy of his own from the notary who haddrawn up the terms of the disputation with Fiore. The date of thiscommunication is January 2, 1539, and on February 12 Cardan writes a longletter to Tartaglia, complaining in somewhat testy spirit of the receptiongiven to his request. He is aggrieved that Tartaglia should have sent himnothing but the questions put to him by Fiore, thirty in number indeed, but only one in substance, and that he should have dared to hint thatthose which he (Cardan) had sent for solution were not his own, but theproperty of Giovanni Colla. Cardan had found Colla to be a conceited fool, and had dragged the conceit out of him--a process which he was now aboutto repeat for the benefit of Messer Niccolo Tartaglia. The letter goes onto contradict all Tartaglia's assertions by arguments which do not seementirely convincing, and the case is not made better by the abusivepassages interpolated here and there, and by the demonstration of certainerrors in Tartaglia's book on Artillery. In short a more injudiciousletter could not have been written by any man hoping to get a favour doneto him by the person addressed. 

In the special matter of the problems which he sent to Tartaglia by thebookseller Juan Antonio, Cardan made a beginning of that tricky andcrooked course which he followed too persistently all through thisparticular business. In his letter he maintains with a show of indignationthat he had long known these questions, had known them in fact beforeColla knew how to count ten, implying by these words that he knew how tosolve them, while in reality all he knew about them was the fact that theyexisted. Tartaglia in his answer is not to be moved from his belief, andtells Cardan flatly that he is still convinced Giovanni Colla took thequestions to Milan, where he found no one able to solve them, not evenMesser Hieronimo Cardano, and that the mathematician last-named sent themon by the bookseller for solution, as has been already related. 

This letter of Tartaglia's bears the date of February 13, 1539, and afterreading it and digesting its contents, Cardan seems to have come to theconclusion that he was not working in the right way to get possession ofthis secret which he felt he must needs master, if he wanted hisforthcoming book to mark a new epoch in this History of Mathematics, andthat a change of tactics was necessary. Alfonso d'Avalos, Cardan's friendand patron, was at this time the Governor of Milan. D'Avalos was a man ofscience, as well as a soldier, and Cardan had already sent to him a copyof Tartaglia's treatise on Artillery, deeming that a work of this kindwould not fail to interest him. In his first letter to Tartaglia hementions this fact, while picking holes in the writer's theoriesconcerning transmitted force and views on gravitation. This mention of thename of D'Avalos, the master of many legions and of many cannons as well, to a man who had written a Treatise on the management of Artillery, anddevised certain engines and instruments for the management of the same, was indeed a clever cast, and the fly was tempting enough to attract evenso shy a fish as Niccolo Tartaglia. In his reply to Jerome's scoldingletter of February 12, 1539, Tartaglia concludes with a description of theinstruments which he was perfecting: a square to regulate the discharge ofcannon, and to level and determine every elevation; and another instrumentfor the investigation of distances upon a plane surface. He ends with arequest that Cardan will accept four copies of the engines aforesaid, twofor himself and two for the Marchese d'Avalos. 

The tone of this letter shows that Cardan had at least begun to tame thebear, who now seemed disposed to dance _ad libitum_ to the pleasant musicof words suggesting introductions to the governor, and possible patronageof these engines for the working of artillery. Cardan's reply of March 19, 1539, is friendly--too friendly indeed--and the wonder is that Tartaglia'ssuspicions were not aroused by its almost sugary politeness. It beginswith an attempt to soften down the asperities of their formercorrespondence, some abuse of Giovanni Colla, and an apology for the roughwords of his last epistle. Cardan then shows how their misunderstandingarose chiefly from a blunder made by Juan Antonio in delivering themessage, and invites Tartaglia to come and visit him in his own house inMilan, so that they might deliberate together on mathematical questions;but the true significance of the letter appears in the closing lines. "Itold the Marchese of the instruments which you had sent him, and he showedhimself greatly pleased with all you had done. And he commanded me towrite to you forthwith in pressing terms, and to tell you that, on thereceipt of my letter, you should come to Milan without fail, for hedesires to speak with you. And I, too, exhort you to come at once withoutfurther deliberation, seeing that this said Marchese is wonted to rewardall men of worth in such noble and magnanimous and liberal fashion thatnone of them ever goes away dissatisfied. "

The receipt of this letter seems to have disquieted Tartaglia somewhat;for he has added a note to it, in which he says that Cardan has placed himin a position of embarrassment. He had evidently wished for anintroduction to D'Avalos, but now it was offered to him it seemed a burdenrather than a benefit. He disliked the notion of going to Milan; yet, ifhe did not go, the Marchese d'Avalos might take offence. But in the end hedecided to undertake the journey; and, as D'Avalos happened then to beabsent from Milan on a visit to his country villa at Vigevano, he stayedfor three days in Cardan's house. As a recorder of conversations Tartagliaseems to have had something of Boswell's gift. He gives an abstract of aneventful dialogue with his host on March 25, 1539, which Cardan begins bya gentle reproach anent his guest's reticence in the matter of the rule ofthe _cosa_ and the _cubus_ equal to the _numerus_. Tartaglia's reply tothis complaint seems reasonable enough (it must be borne in mind that heis his own reporter), and certainly helps to absolve him from the chargesometimes made against him that he was nothing more than a selfishcurmudgeon who had resolved to let his knowledge die with him, rather thanshare it with other mathematicians of whom he was jealous. He told Cardanplainly that he kept his rules a secret because, for the present, itsuited his purpose to do so. At this time he had not the leisure toelaborate farther the several rules in question, being engaged over atranslation of Euclid into Italian; but, when this work should becompleted, he proposed to publish a treatise on Algebra in which he woulddisclose to the world all the rules he already knew, as well as manyothers which he hoped to discover in the course of his present work. Heconcludes: "This is the cause of my seeming discourtesy towards yourexcellency. I have been all the ruder, perhaps, because you write to methat you are preparing a book similar to mine, and that you propose topublish my inventions, and to give me credit for the same. This I confessis not to my taste, forasmuch as I wish to set forth my discoveries in myown works, and not in those of others. " In his reply to this, Cardanpoints out that he had promised, if Tartaglia so desired, that he wouldnot publish the rules at all; but here Messer Niccolo's patience and goodmanners gave way, and he told Messer Hieronimo bluntly that he did notbelieve him. Then said Cardan: "I swear to you by the Sacred Evangel, andby myself as a gentleman, that I will not only abstain from publishingyour discoveries--if you will make them known to me--but that I willpromise and pledge my faith of a true Christian to set them down for myown use in cypher, so that after my death no one may be able to understandthem. If you will believe this promise, believe it; if you will not, letus have done with the matter. " "If I were not disposed to believe suchoaths as these you now swear, " said Tartaglia, "I might as well be setdown as a man without any faith at all. I have determined to go forthwithto Vigevano to visit the Signor Marchese, as I have now been here forthree days and am weary of the delay, but I promise when I return that Iwill show you all the rules. " Cardan replied: "As you are bent on going toVigevano, I will give you a letter of introduction to the Marchese, sothat he may know who you are; but I would that, before you start, you showme the rule as you have promised. " "I am willing to do this, " saidTartaglia, "but I must tell you that, in order to be able to recall at anytime my system of working, I have expressed it in rhyme; because, withoutthis precaution, I must often have forgotten it. I care naught that myrhymes are clumsy, it has been enough for me that they have served toremind me of my rules. These I will write down with my own hand, so thatyou may be assured that my discovery is given to you correctly. " Thenfollow Tartaglia's verses:

 "Quando chel cubo con le cose apresso Se agualia à qualche numero discreto Trouan dui altri differenti in esso Dapoi terrai questo per consueto Ch'el lor' produtto sempre sia eguale Al terzo cubo delle cose neto El residuo poi suo generale Delli lor lati cubi ben sottratti Varra la tua cosa principale. In el secondo de cotesti atti Quando chel cubo restasse lui solo Tu osseruarai quest' altri contratti Del numer farai due tal part 'a uolo Che luna in l'altra si produca schietto El terzo cubo delle cose in stolo Delle qual poi, per commun precetto Torrai li lati cubi insieme gionti Et cotal summa sara il tuo concetto Et terzo poi de questi nostri conti Se solve col recordo se ben guardi Che per natura son quasi congionti Questi trouai, et non con passi tardi Nel mille cinquecent' e quatro è trenta Con fondamenti ben sald' è gagliardi Nella citta del mar' intorno centa. "

Having handed over to his host these rhymes, with the precious rulesenshrined therein, Tartaglia told him that, with so clear an exposition, he could not fail to understand them, ending with a warning hint to Cardanthat, if he should publish the rules, either in the work he had in hand, or in any future one, either under the name of Tartaglia or of Cardan, he, the author, would put into print certain things which Messer Hieronimowould not find very pleasant reading. 

After all Tartaglia was destined to quit Milan without paying his respectsto D'Avalos. There is not a word in his notes which gives the reason ofthis eccentric action on his part. He simply says that he is no longerinclined to go to Vigevano, but has made up his mind to return to Veniceforthwith; and Cardan, probably, was not displeased at this exhibition ofpetulant impatience on the part of his guest, but was rather somewhatrelieved to see Messer Niccolo ride away, now that he had extracted fromhim the coveted information. From the beginning to the end of this affairCardan has been credited with an amount of subtle cunning which heassuredly did not manifest at other times when his wits were pitted forcontest with those of other men. It has been advanced to his disparagementthat he walked in deceitful ways from the very beginning; that he dangledbefore Tartaglia's eyes the prospect of gain and preferment simply for thepurpose of enticing him to Milan, where he deemed he might use moreefficaciously his arguments for the accomplishment of the purpose whichwas really in his mind; that he had no intention of advancing Tartaglia'sfortunes when he suggested the introduction to D'Avalos, but that theGovernor of Milan was brought into the business merely that he might beused as a potent ally in the attack upon Tartaglia's obstinate silence. Whether this may have been his line of action or not, the issue shows thathe was fully able to fight his battle alone, and that his powers ofpersuasion and hard swearing were adequate when occasion arose for theirexercise. It is quite possible that Tartaglia, when he began to reflectover what he had done by writing out and handing over to Cardan hismnemonic rhymes, fell into an access of suspicious anger--at Cardan forhis wheedling persistency, and at himself for yielding thereto--and packedhimself off in a rage with the determination to have done with MesserHieronimo and all his works. Certainly his carriage towards Cardan in theweeks ensuing, as exhibited in his correspondence, does not picture him inan amiable temper. On April 9 Jerome wrote to him in a very friendlystrain, expressing regret that his guest should have left Milan withoutseeing D'Avalos, and fear lest he might have prejudiced his fortunes bytaking such a step. He then goes on to describe to Tartaglia the progresshe is making in his work with the Practice of Arithmetic, and to ask himfor help in solving one of the cases in Algebra, the rule for which wasindeed contained in Tartaglia's verses, but expressed somewhat obscurely, for which reason Cardan had missed its meaning. [98] In his reply, Tartaglia ignores Jerome's courtesies altogether, and tells him that whathe especially desires at the present moment is a sight of that volume onthe Practice of Arithmetic, "for, " says he, "if I do not see it soon, Ishall begin to suspect that this work of yours will probably make manifestsome breach of faith; in other words, that it will contain asinterpolations certain of the rules I taught you. " Niccolo then goes on toexplain the difficulty which had puzzled Cardan, using terms which showedplainly that he had as poor an opinion of his correspondent's wit as ofhis veracity. 

Cardan was an irascible man, and it is a high tribute to his powers ofrestraint that he managed to keep his temper under the uncouth insults ofsuch a letter as the foregoing. The more clearly Tartaglia's jealous, suspicious nature displays itself, the greater seems the wonder that a manof such a disposition should ever have disclosed such a secret. He did notbelieve Cardan when he promised that he would not publish the rules inquestion without his (the discoverer's) consent--why then did he believehim when he swore by the Gospel? The age was one in which the bindingforce of an oath was not regarded as an obligation of any particularsanctity if circumstances should arise which made the violation of theoath more convenient than its observance. However, the time was not yetcome for Jerome to begin to quibble with his conscience. On May 12, 1539, he wrote another letter to Tartaglia, also in a very friendly tone, reproaching him gently for his suspicions, and sending a copy of the_Practice of Arithmetic_ to show him that they were groundless. Heprotested that Tartaglia might search from beginning to end withoutfinding any trace of his jealously-guarded rules, inasmuch as, beyondcorrecting a few errors, the writer had only carried Algebra to the pointwhere Fra Luca had left it. Tartaglia searched, and though he could notput his finger on any spot which showed that Messer Hieronimo had brokenhis oath, he found what must have been to him as a precious jewel, to wita mistake in reckoning, which he reported to Cardan in these words:

"In this process your excellency has made such a gross mistake that I amamazed thereat, forasmuch as any man with half an eye must have seenit--indeed, if you had not gone on to repeat it in divers examples, Ishould have set it down to a mistake of the printer. " After pointing outto Cardan the blunders aforesaid, he concludes: "The whole of this work ofyours is ridiculous and inaccurate, a performance which makes me tremblefor your good name. "[99]

Every succeeding page of Tartaglia's notes shows more and more clearlythat he was smarting under a sense of his own folly in having divulged hissecret. Night and day he brooded over his excess of confidence, and astime went by he let his suspicions of Cardan grow into savage resentment. His ears were open to every rumour which might pass from one class-room toanother. On July 10 a letter came to him from one Maphio of Bergamo, aformer pupil, telling how Cardan was about to publish certain newmathematical rules in a book on Algebra, and hinting that in allprobability these rules would prove to be Tartaglia's, whereupon he atonce jumped to the conclusion that Maphio's gossip was the truth, and thatthis book would make public the secret which Cardan had sworn to keep. Heleft many of Cardan's letters unanswered; but at last he seems to havefound too strong the temptation to say something disagreeable; so, inanswer to a letter from Cardan containing a request for help in solving anequation which had baffled his skill, Tartaglia wrote telling Cardan thathe had bungled in his application of the rule, and that he himself was nowvery sorry he had ever confided the rule aforesaid to such a man. He endswith further abuse of Cardan's _Practice of Arithmetic_, which he declaresto be merely a confused farrago of other men's knowledge, [100] and with aremark which he probably intended to be a crowning insult. "I wellremember when I was at your house in Milan, that you told me you had nevertried to discover the rule of the _cosa_ and the _cubus_ equal to the_numerus_ which was found out by me, because Fra Luca had declared it tobe impossible;[101] as if to say that, if you had set yourself to the taskyou could have accomplished it, a thing which sets me off laughing when Icall to mind the fact that it is now two months since I informed you ofthe blunders you made in the extraction of the cube root, which process isone of the first to be taught to students who are beginning Algebra. Wherefore, if after the lapse of all this time you have not been able tofind a remedy to set right this your mistake (which would have been aneasy matter enough), just consider whether in any case your powers couldhave been equal to the discovery of the rule aforesaid. "[102]

In this quarrel Messer Giovanni Colla had appeared as the herald of thestorm, when he carried to Milan in 1536 tidings of the discovery of thenew rule which had put Cardan on the alert, and now, as the crisisapproached, he again came upon the scene, figuring as unconscious andindirect cause of the final catastrophe. On January 5, 1540, Cardan wroteto Tartaglia, telling him that Colla had once more appeared in Milan, andwas boasting that he had found out certain new rules in Algebra. He wenton to suggest to his correspondent that they should unite their forces inan attempt to fathom this asserted discovery of Colla's, but to thisletter Tartaglia vouchsafed no reply. In his diary it stands with asuperadded note, in which he remarks that he thinks as badly of Cardan asof Colla, and that, as far as he is concerned, they may both of them gowhithersoever they will. [103]

Colla propounded divers questions to the Algebraists of Milan, andamongst them was one involving the equation _x^4 + 6x^2 + 36 = 60x_, onewhich he probably found in some Arabian treatise. Cardan tried all hisingenuity over this combination without success, but his brilliant pupil, Ludovico Ferrari, worked to better purpose, and succeeded at last insolving it by adding to each side of the equation, arranged in a certainfashion, some quadratic and simple quantities of which the square rootcould be extracted. [104] Cardan seems to have been baffled by the factthat the equation aforesaid could not be solved by the recently-discoveredrules, because it produced a bi-quadratic. This difficulty Ferrariovercame, and, pursuing the subject, he discovered a general rule for thesolution of all bi-quadratics by means of a cubic equation. Cardan'ssubsequent demonstration of this process is one of the masterpieces of the_Book of the Great Art_. It is an example of the use of assuming a newindeterminate quantity to introduce into an equation, thus anticipating bya considerable space of time Descartes, who subsequently made use of alike assumption in a like case. 

How far this discovery of Ferrari's covered the rules given by Tartagliato Cardan, and how far it relieved Cardan of the obligation of secresy, isa problem fitted for the consideration of the mathematician and thecasuist severally. [105] An apologist of Cardan might affirm that he cannotbe held to have acted in bad faith in publishing the result of Ferrari'sdiscovery. If this discovery included and even went beyond Tartaglia's, somuch the worse for Tartaglia. The lesser discovery (Tartaglia's) Cardannever divulged before Ferrari unravelled Giovanni Colla's puzzle; but itwas inevitable that it must be made known to the world as a part of thegreater discovery (Ferrari's) which Cardan was in no way bound to keep asecret. The case might be said to run on all fours with that where a manconfides a secret to a friend under a promise of silence, which promisethe friend keeps religiously, until one day he finds that the secret, andeven more than the secret, is common talk of the market-place. Is theobligation of silence, with which he was bound originally, still to lieupon the friend, even when he may have sworn to observe it by the HolyEvangel and the honour of a gentleman; and is the fact that great renownand profit would come to him by publishing the secret to be held as anadditional reason for keeping silence, or as a justification for speech?In forming a judgment after a lapse of three and a half centuries as toCardan's action, while having regard both to the sanctity of an oath atthe time in question, and to the altered state of the case between him andTartaglia consequent on Ludovico Ferrari's discovery, an hypothesis notoverstrained in the direction of charity may be advanced to the effectthat Cardan might well have deemed he was justified in revealing to theworld the rules which Tartaglia had taught him, considering that theseisolated rules had been developed by his own study and Ferrari's into aprinciple by which it would be possible to work a complete revolution inthe science of Algebra. 

In any case, six years were allowed to elapse before Cardan, by publishingTartaglia's rules in the _Book of the Great Art_, did the deed which, inthe eyes of many, branded him as a liar and dishonest, and droveTartaglia almost wild with rage. That his offence did not meet withuniversal reprobation is shown by negative testimony in the _Judicium deCardano_, by Gabriel Naudé. [106] In the course of his essay Naudé lets itbe seen how thoroughly he dislikes the character of the man about whom hewrites. No evil disposition attributed to Cardan by himself or by hisenemies is left unnoticed, and a lengthy catalogue of his offences is setdown, but this list does not contain the particular sin of broken faith inthe matter of Tartaglia's rules. On the contrary, after abusing andridiculing a large portion of his work, Naudé breaks out into almostrhapsodical eulogy about Cardan's contributions to Mathematical science. "Quis negabit librum de Proportionibus dignum esse, qui cum pulcherrimisantiquorum inventis conferatur? Quis in Arithmetica non stupet, eum totdifficultates superasse, quibus explicandis Villafrancus, Lucas de Burgo, Stifelius, Tartalea, vix ac ne vix quidem pares esse potuissent?" It seemshard to believe, after reading elsewhere the bitter assaults ofNaudé, [107] that he would have neglected so tempting an opportunity ofdarkening the shadows, if he himself had felt the slightest offence, or ifpublic opinion in the learned world was in any perceptible degreescandalized by the disclosure made by the publication of the _Book of theGreat Art_. 

This book was published at Nuremberg in 1545, and in its preface anddedication Cardan fully acknowledges his obligations to Tartaglia andFerrari, with respect to the rules lately discussed, and gives a catalogueof the former students of the Art, and attributes to each his particularcontribution to the mass of knowledge which he here presents to the world. Leonardo da Pisa, [108] Fra Luca da Borgo, and Scipio Ferreo all receivedue credit for their work, and then Cardan goes on to speak of "my friendNiccolo Tartaglia of Brescia, who, in his contest with Antonio MariaFiore, the pupil of Ferreo, elaborated this rule to assure him of victory, a rule which he made known to me in answer to my many prayers. " He goes onto acknowledge other obligations to Tartaglia:[109] how the Brescian hadfirst taught him that algebraical discovery could be most effectivelyadvanced by geometrical demonstration, and how he himself had followedthis counsel, and had been careful to give the demonstration aforesaid forevery rule he laid down. 

The _Book of the Great Art_ was not published till six years after Cardanhad become the sharer of Tartaglia's secret, which had thus had ample timeto germinate and bear fruit in the fertile brain upon which it was cast. It is almost certain that the treatise as a whole--leaving out of accountthe special question of the solution of cubic equations--must have gainedenormously in completeness and lucidity from the fresh knowledge revealedto the writer thereof by Tartaglia's reluctant disclosure, and, over andbeyond this, it must be borne in mind that Cardan had been working forseveral years at Giovanni Colla's questions in conjunction with Ferrari, an algebraist as famous as Tartaglia or himself. The opening chapters ofthe book show that Cardan was well acquainted with the chief properties ofthe roots of equations of all sorts. He lays it down that all squarenumbers have two different kinds of root, one positive and onenegative, [110] _vera_ and _ficta_: thus the root of 9 is either 3. Or -3. He shows that when a case has all its roots, or when none are impossible, the number of its positive roots is the same as the number of changes inthe signs of the terms when they are all brought to one side. In the caseof _x^3 + 3bx = 2c_, he demonstrates his first resolution of a cubicequation, and gives his own version of his dealings with Tartaglia. Hischief obligation to the Brescian was the information how to solve thethree cases which follow, _i. E. X^3 + bx = c. X^3 = bx + c. _ and_x^3 + c = bx_, and this he freely acknowledges, and furthermore admitsthe great service of the system of geometrical demonstration whichTartaglia had first suggested to him, and which he always employedhereafter. He claims originality for all processes in the book notascribed to others, asserting that all the demonstrations of existingrules were his own except three which had been left by Mahommed ben Musa, and two invented by Ludovico Ferrari. 

With this vantage ground beneath his feet Cardan raised the study ofAlgebra to a point it had never reached before, and climbed himself to aheight of fame to which Medicine had not yet brought him. His name as amathematician was known throughout Europe, and the success of his bookwas remarkable. In the _De Libris Propriis_ there is a passage whichindicates that he himself was not unconscious of the renown he had won, ordisposed to underrate the value of his contribution to mathematicalscience. "And even if I were to claim this art (Algebra) as my owninvention, I should perhaps be speaking only the truth, though Nicomachus, Ptolemæus, Paciolus, Boetius, have written much thereon. For men likethese never came near to discover one-hundredth part of the thingsdiscovered by me. But with regard to this matter--as with divers others--Ileave judgment to be given by those who shall come after me. NeverthelessI am constrained to call this work of mine a perfect one, seeing that itwell-nigh transcends the bounds of human perception. "[111]

FOOTNOTES:

[84] It was published at Milan by Bernardo Caluschio, with adedication--dated 1537--to Francesco Gaddi, a descendant of the famousfamily of Florence. This man was Prior of the Augustinian Canons in Milan, and a great personage, but ill fortune seems to have overtaken him in hislatter days. Cardan writes (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 107):--"qui cum mihiamicus esset dum floreret, Rexque cognomine ob potentiam appellaretur, conjectus in carcerem, miseré vitam ibi, ne dicam crudeliter, finivit: namper quindecim dies in profundissima gorgyne fuit, ut vivus sepeliretur. "

[85] There is a reference to Osiander in _De Subtilitate_, p. 523. Cardangives a full account of his relations with Osiander and Petreius in_Opera_, tom. I. P. 67. 

[86] November 1536. 

[87] Ferrari was one of Cardan's most distinguished pupils. "LudovicusFerrarius Bononiensis qui Mathematicas et Mediolani et in patria suaprofessus est, et singularis in illis eruditionis. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxv. P. 111. There is a short memoir of Ferrari in _Opera_, tom. Ix. 

[88] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 66. 

[89] Fra Luca's book, _Summa de Arithmetica Geometria Proportioni éProportionalita_, extends as far as the solution of quadratic equations, of which only the positive roots were used. At this time letters wererarely used to express known quantities. 

[90] The early writers on Algebra used _numerus_ for the absolute or knownterm, _res_ or _cosa_ for the first power, _quadratum_ for the second, and_cubus_ for the third. The signs + and - first appear in the work ofStifelius, a German writer, who published a book of Arithmetic in 1544. Robert Recorde in his _Whetstone of Wit_ seems first to have used the signof equality =. Vieta in France first applied letters as general symbols ofquantity, though the earlier algebraists used them occasionally, chieflyas abbreviations. Aristotle also used them in the _Physics. --Libri. Hist. Des Sciences Mathématiques_. I. 104. 

[91] _Opera_, tom. Iv. P. 222. 

[92] In the conclusion of the Treatise on Arithmetic, Cardan points outcertain errors in the work of Fra Luca. Fra Luca was a pupil of Pierodella Francesca, who was highly skilled in Geometry, and who, according toVasari, first applied perspective to the drawing of the human form. 

[93] Tartaglia, _i. E. _ the stutterer. 

[94] Papadopoli, _Hist. Gymn. Pata. _ (Ven. 1724). 

[95] "Balbisonem post relatam jurisprudentiæ lauream redeuntem BrixiamNicolaus secutus est, cæpitque ex Mathematicis gloriam sibi ac divitiasparare, æque paupertatis impatiens, ac fortunæ melioris cupidus, quam dumBrixiæ tuetur, homo morosæ, et inurbanæ rusticitatis prope omnium civiumodia sibi conciliavit. Quamobrem alibi vivere coactus, varias Italiæ urbesincoluit, ac Ferrariæ, Parmæ, Mediolani, Romæ, Genuæ, arithmeticam, geometricam, ceteraque quæ ad Mathesim pertinent, docuit; depugnavitquescriptis accerrimis cum Cardano ac sibi ex illis quæsivit nomen etgloriam. Tandem domicilium posuit Venetiis, ubi non a Senatoribus modo, utmos Venetus habet eruditorum hominum studiosissimus, maximi habitus est, at etiam a variis Magnatum ac Principum legatis præmiis ac muneribusauctus sortem, quam tamdiu expetierat visus sibi est conciliasse. Ergoratus se majorem, quam ut a civibus suis contemneretur, Brixiam rediit, ubi spe privati stipendii Euclidis elementa explanare coepit; sed quæillum olim a civitate sua austeritas, rustica, acerba, morosa, depulerat, eadem illum in eum apud omnes contemptum, et odium iterum dejicit, utexinde horrendus ac detestabilis omnibus fugere, atque iterum Venetiasconfugere compulsus fuerit. Ibi persenex decessit. "--Papadopoli, _Hist. Gymn. Pata. , _ ii. P. 210. 

[96] This work is the chief authority for the facts which follow. Theedition referred to is that of Venice, 1546. There is also a full accountof the same in Cossali, _Origine dell' Algebra_ (Parma, 1799). Vol. Ii. P. 96. 

[97] _Quesiti et Inventioni_, p. 115. 

[98] Cardan writes: "Vi supplico per l'amor che mi portati, et perl'amicitia ch'è tra noi, che spero durara fin che viveremo, che mi mandatisciolta questa questione. 1 cubo piu 3. Cose egual à 10. " Cardan hadmistaken (1/3 _b_)^3 for 1/3 _b_^3, or the cube of 1/3 of the co-efficientfor 1/3 of the cube of the co-efficient. --_Quesiti et Inventioni_ p. 124. 

[99] _Quesiti et Inventioni_, p. 125. 

[100] "Non ha datta fora tal opera come cose composto da sua testa ma comecose ellette raccolte e copiate de diverse libri a penna. "--_Quesiti etInventioni_, p. 127. 

[101] Cardan repeats the remark in the first chapter of the _Liber ArtisMagnæ_ (_Opera_, tom. Iv. P. 222). "Deceptus enim ego verbis LucæPaccioli, qui ultra sua capitula, generale ullum aliud esse posse negat(quanquam tot jam antea rebus a me inventis, sub manibus esset) desperabamtamen invenire, quod quærere non audebam. " Perhaps he wrote them down asan apology or a defence against the storm which he anticipated as soon asTartaglia should have seen the new Algebra. 

[102] Subsequently Tartaglia wrote very bitterly against Cardan, as thelatter mentions in _De Libris Propriis_. "Nam etsi Nicolaus Tartalealibris materna lingua editis nos calumniatur, impudentiæ tamen acstultitiæ suæ non aliud testimonium quæras, quam ipsos illius libros, inquibus nominatim splendidiorem unumquemque e civibus suis proscindit: adeòut nemo dubitet insanisse hominem aliquo infortunio. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 80. 

[103] _Quesiti et Inventioni_, p. 129. 

[104] Montucla, _Histoire de Math. _ i. 596, gives a full account ofFerrari's process. 

[105] In the _De Vita Propria_, Cardan dismisses the matter briefly: "Exhoc ad artem magnam, quam collegi, dum Jo. Colla certaret nobiscum, etTartalea, à quo primum acceperam capitulum, qui maluit æmulum habere, etsuperiorem, quam amicum et beneficio devinctum, cum alterius fuissetinventum. "--ch. Xlv. P. 175. 

[106] Prefixed to the _De Vita Propria_. 

[107] In a question of broken faith, Cardan laid himself open especiallyto attack by reason of his constant self-glorification in the matter ofveracity. 

[108] Leonardo knew that quadratic equations might have two positiveroots, and Cardan pursued this farther by the discovery that they mightalso have negative roots. 

[109] "Caput xxviii. De capitulo generali cubi et rerum æqualium numero, Magistri Nicolai Tartagliæ, Brixiensis--Hoc capitulum habui à prefato viroante considerationem demonstrationum secundi libri super Euclidem, etæquatio hæc cadit in [Symbol: Rx]. Cu v binomii ex genere binomii secundiet qunti [m~]. [Symbol: Rx]. Cuba universali recisi ejusdembinomii. "--_Opera_, tom. Iv. P. 341. 

[110] Montucla, who as a historian of Mathematics has a strong biasagainst Cardan, gives him credit for the discovery of the _fictæ radices_, but on the other hand he attributes to Vieta Cardan's discovery of themethod of changing a complete cubic equation into one wanting the secondterm. --Ed. 1729, p. 595. 

[111] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 66. 

CHAPTER VI

IT has been noted that Cardan quitted Pavia at the end of 1544 on accountof the bankruptcy of the University, and that in 1546 a generous offer wasmade to him on condition of his entering the service of Pope Paul III. ; anoffer which after some hesitation he determined to refuse. In the autumnof this same year he resumed his teaching at Pavia, a fact which sanctionsthe assumption that this luckless seat of learning must have been oncemore in funds. In the year following, in 1547, there came to him anotheroffer of employment accompanied by terms still more munificent than thePope's, conveyed through Vesalius[112] and the ambassador of the King ofDenmark. "The emolument was to be a salary of three hundred gold crownsper annum of the Hungarian currency, and in addition to these six hundredmore to be paid out of the tax on skins of price. This last-named moneydiffered in value by about an eighth from the royal coinage, and would besomewhat slower in coming in. Also the security for its payment was not sosolid, and would in a measure be subject to risk. To this was fartheradded maintenance for myself and five servants and three horses. Thisoffer I did not accept because the country was very cold and damp, and thepeople well-nigh barbarians; moreover the rites and doctrines of religionwere quite foreign to those of the Roman Church. "[113]

Cardan was now forty-six years of age, a mathematician of European fame, and the holder of an honourable post at an ancient university, which hemight have exchanged for other employment quite as dignified and far morelucrative. In dealing with a character as bizarre as his, it would be as arule unprofitable to search deeply for motives of action, but in thisinstance it is no difficult matter to detect upon the surface severalcauses which may have swayed him in this decision to remain at Pavia. However firmly he may have set himself to win fame as a physician, he wasin no way disposed to put aside those mathematical studies in which he hadalready made so distinguished a name, nor to abandon his astrology andchiromancy and discursive reading of all kinds. At Pavia he would findleisure for all these, and would in addition be able to make good anyarrears of medical and magical knowledge into which he might have fallenduring the years so largely devoted to the production of the _Book of theGreat Art_. Moreover, the time in question was one of the prime epochs inthe history of the healing art. A new light had just arisen in Vesalius, who had recently published his book, _Corporis Humani Fabrica_, and waslecturing in divers universities on the new method of Anatomy, the actualdissection of the human body. He went to Pavia in the course of histravels and left traces of his visit in the form of a revived andre-organized school of Anatomy. This fact alone would have been apowerful attraction to Cardan, ever greedy as he was of new knowledge, butthere was another reason which probably swayed him more strongly still, towit, the care of his eldest son's education and training. Gian BattistaCardano was now in his fourteenth year, and, according to the usages ofthe time, old enough to make a beginning of his training in Medicine, theprofession he was destined to follow. It is not recorded whether or not hechose this calling for himself; but, taking into account the deep andtender affection Jerome always manifested towards his eldest son, it isnot likely that undue compulsion was used in the matter. The youth, according to his father's description, strongly favoured in person hisgrandfather Fazio. [114] He had come into the world at a time when hisparents' fortunes were at their lowest ebb, during those terrible monthsspent at Gallarate, [115] and in his adolescence he bore divers physicalevidences of the ill nurture--it would be unjust to call it neglect--whichhe had received. At one time he was indeed put in charge of a good nurse, but he had to be withdrawn from her care almost immediately through herhusband's jealousy, and he was next sent to a slattern, who fed him withold milk, and not enough of that; or more often with chewed bread. Hisbody was swollen and unhealthy, he suffered greatly from an attack offever, which ultimately left him deaf in one ear. He gave early evidenceof a fine taste in music, an inheritance from his father, and was, according to Cardan's showing, upright and honest in his carriage, giftedwith talents which must, under happier circumstances, have placed him inthe first rank of men of learning, and in every respect a youth of thefairest promise. The father records that he himself, though well furnishedby experience in the art of medicine, was now and again worsted by his sonin disputation, and alludes in words of pathetic regret to diversproblems, too deep for his own powers of solution, which Gian Battistawould assuredly have mastered in the course of time. He does not forget tonotice certain of the young man's failings; for he remarks that he wastemperate of speech, except when he was angered, and then he would pourforth such a torrent of words that he scarce seemed in his right mind. Cardan professes to have discerned a cause for these failings, and thecalamities flowing therefrom, in the fact that Gian Battista had the thirdand fourth toes of his right foot united by a membrane; he declares that, if he had known of this in time, he would have counteracted the evil bydividing the toes. [116] Gian Battista eventually gained the _baccalaureat_in his twenty-second year, and two years after became a member of theCollege. 

The life which Cardan planned to lead at Pavia was unquestionably a fullone. He had several young men under his care as pupils besides his son, amongst them being a kinsman of his, Gasparo Cardano, a youth of sterlingvirtue and a useful coadjutor in times to come. He was at this timeengaged on his most important works in Medicine and Physical Science. Heworked hard at his profession, practising occasionally and readingvoraciously all books bearing on his studies. He wrote and publishedseveral small works during the four years--from 1547 to 1551--of hisProfessorship at Pavia; the most noteworthy of which were the Book ofPrecepts for the guidance of his children, and some Treatises on thePreservation of Health. He also wrote a book on Physiognomy, or as hecalled it Metoposcopy, an abstract of which appears as a chapter in _DeUtilitate_ (lib. Iii. C. 10), but the major part of his time must havebeen consumed in collecting and reducing to form the huge mass of factsout of which his two great works, _De Subtilitate_ and _De VarietateRerum_, were built up. 

A mere abstract of the contents of these wonderful books would fill manypages, and prove as uninteresting and unsuggestive as abstracts mustalways be; and a commentary upon the same, honestly executed, would make aheavy draft on the working life-time of an industrious student. Inreference to each book the author has left a statement of the reasonswhich impelled him to undertake his task, the most cogent of which werecertain dreams. [117] Soon after he had begun to write the _De AstrorumJudiciis_ he dreamt one night that his soul, freed from his body, wasranging the vault of heaven near to the moon, and the soul of his fatherwas there likewise. But he could not see this spirit, which spake to himsaying, "Behold, I am given to you as a comrade. " The spirit of the fatherthen went on to tell the son how, after various stages of probation, hewould attain the highest heaven, and in the terms of this discourse Cardanprofessed to discern the scheme of his more important works. 

The _De Subtilitate_ represents Cardan's original conception of atreatise dealing with the Cosmos, but during the course of its preparationa vast mass of subsidiary and contingent knowledge accumulated in hisnote-books, and rendered necessary the publication of a supplementarywork, the _De Varietate_, [118] which, by the time it was finished, hadgrown to a bulk exceeding that of the original treatise. The seminal ideaswhich germinated and produced such a vast harvest of printed words, weresubstantially the same which had possessed the brains of Paracelsus andAgrippa. Cardan postulates in the beginning a certain sympathy between thecelestial bodies and our own, not merely general, but distributive, thesun being in harmony with the heart, and the moon with the animal humours. He considers that all organized bodies are animated, so that what we callthe Spirit of Nature is present everywhere. Beyond this everything isruled by the properties of numbers. [119] Heat and moisture are the onlyreal qualities in Nature, the first being the formal, and the second thematerial, cause of all things; these conceptions he gleaned probably fromsome criticisms of Aristotle on the archaic doctrines of Heraclitus andThales as to the origin of the universe. 

It is no marvel that a writer, gifted with so bizarre and imaginative atemper, so restless and greedy of knowledge, sitting down to work withsuch a projection before him, should have produced the richest, and atthe same time the most chaotic, collection of the facts of NaturalPhilosophy that had yet issued from the press. The erudition and theindustry displayed in the gathering together of these vast masses ofinformation, and in their verification by experiment, are indeed amazing;and, in turning over his pages, it is impossible to stifle regret thatCardan's confused method and incoherent system should have rendered hiswork comparatively useless for the spread of true knowledge, and qualifiedit only for a place among the _labores ineptiarum_. 

Cardan begins with a definition of Subtilty. "By subtilty I mean a certainfaculty of the mind by which certain phenomena, discernible by the sensesand comprehensible by the intellect, may be understood, albeit withdifficulty. " Subtilty, as he understood it, possesses a threefoldcharacter: substance, accident, and manifestation. With regard to thesenses he admits but four to the first rank: touch, sight, smell, andhearing; the claims of taste, he affirms, are open to contention. He thenpasses on to discuss the properties of matter: fire, moisture, cold, dryness, and vacuum. The last-named furnishes him with a text for adiscourse on a wonderful lamp which he invented by thinking out theprinciple of the vacuum. This digression on the very threshold of the workis a sample of what the reader may expect to encounter all through thetwenty-one books of the _De Subtilitate_ and the seventeen of the _DeVarietate_. Regardless of the claims of continuity, he jumps fromprinciple to practice without the slightest warning. Intermingled withdissertations on abstract causes and the hidden forces of Nature are to befound descriptions of taps and pumps and syphons, and of the water-screwof Archimedes, the re-invention of which caused poor Galeazzo Rosso, Fazio's blacksmith friend, to go mad for joy. There are diagrams offurnaces, of machinery for raising sunken ships, and of the commonsteelyard. Cardan finds no problem of the universe too recondite to essay, and in like manner he sets down information as to the most trivial detailsof every-day economy: how to kill mice, why dogs bay the moon, how to makevinegar, why a donkey is stupid, why flint and steel produce fire, how tomake the hands white, how to tell good mushrooms from bad, and how to markhousehold linen. He treats of the elements, Earth, Air, and Water, excluding Fire, because it produces nothing material; of the heavens andlight: metals, stones, plants, and animals. Marvellous stories abound, andthe most whimsical theories are advanced to account for the working ofNature. He tells how he once saw a man from Porto Maurizio, pallid, withlittle hair on his face, and fat in person, who had in his breasts milkenough to suckle a child. He was a soldier, and this strange propertycaused him no slight inconvenience. Sages, he affirms, on account of theirstudious lives, are little prone to sexual passion. With them the vitalpower is carried from the heart to a region remote from the genitals, _i. E. _ to the brain, and for this reason such men as a rule beget childrenweak and unlike themselves. Diet has a valid effect on character, as theGermans, who subsist chiefly on the milk of wild cows, are fierce and boldand brutal. Again, the Corsicans, who eat young dogs, wild as well asdomestic, are notably fierce, cruel, treacherous, fearless, nimble, andstrong, following thus the nature of dogs. He argues at length to showthat man is neither an animal nor a plant, but something between the two. A man is no more an animal than an animal is a plant. The animal has the_anima sensitiva_ which the plant lacks, and man transcends the animalthrough the gift of the _anima intellectiva_, which, as Aristotletestifies, differs from the _sensitiva_. Some maintain that man and theanimals must be alike in nature and spirit, because it is possible for manto catch certain diseases from animals. But animals take certainproperties from plants, and no one thinks of calling an animal a plant. Man's nature is threefold: the Divine, which neither deceives nor isdeceived; the Human, which deceives, but is not deceived; the Brutish, which does not deceive, but is deceived. Dissertations on the varioussciences, the senses, the soul and intellect, things marvellous, demonsand angels, occupy the rest of the chapters of the _De Subtilitate_. 

At the end of the last book of _De Varietate_, Cardan gives a tableshowing the books of the two works arranged in parallel columns so as toexhibit the relation they bear to each other. A comparison of thetreatment accorded to any particular branch of Natural Philosophy in the_De Subtilitate_ with that given in the _De Varietate_, will show that inthe last-named work Cardan used his most discursive and anecdotic method. Mechanics are chiefly dealt with in the _De Subtilitate_, and all throughthis treatise he set himself to observe in a certain degree the laws ofproportion, and kept more or less to the point with which he was dealing, a system of treatment which left him with a vast heap of materials on hishands, even after he had built up the heavy tome of the _De Subtilitate_. Perhaps when he began his work upon the fresh volume he found this _ingensacervus_ too intractable and heterogeneous to be susceptible ofsymmetrical arrangement, and was forced to let it remain in confusion. Fewmen would sit down with a light heart to frame a well-ordered treatise outof the _débris_ of a heap of note-books, and it would be unjust tocensure Cardan's literary performance because he failed in this task. Probably no other man living in his day would have achieved a betterresult. It is certain that he expended a vast amount of labour inattempting to reduce his collected mass of facts even to the imperfectform it wears in the _De Varietate Rerum_. [120]

Considering that this book covers to a great extent the same ground as itspredecessor, Cardan must be credited with considerable ingenuity oftreatment in presenting his supplementary work without an undue amount ofrepetition. In the _De Varietate_ he always contrives to bring forwardsome fresh fact or fancy to illustrate whatever section of the universe hemay have under treatment, even though this section may have been alreadydealt with in the _De Subtilitate_. The characteristic most stronglymarked in the later book is the increased eagerness with which he plungesinto the investigation of certain forces, which he professes to appreciateas lying beyond Nature, and incapable of scientific verification in themodern sense, and the fabled manifestations of the same. He loses noopportunity of trying to peer behind the curtain, and of seeking--honestlyenough--to formulate those various pseudo-sciences, politely calledoccult, which have now fallen into ridicule and disrepute with all exceptthe charlatan and the dupe, who are always with us. Where he occupies inthe _De Subtilitate_ one page in considering those things which lieoutside Nature--demons, ghosts, incantations, succubi, incubi, divinations, and such like--he spends ten in the _De Varietate_ overkindred subjects. There is a wonderful story[121] told by his father of aghost or demon which he saw in his youth while he was a scholar in thehouse of Giovanni Resta at Pavia. He searches the pages of HectorBoethius, Nicolaus Donis, Rugerus, Petrus Toletus, Leo Africanus, andother chroniclers of the marvellous, for tales of witchcraft, prodigies, and monstrous men and beasts, and devotes a whole chapter tochiromancy, [122] a subject with which he had occupied his plenteousleisure when he was waiting for patients at Sacco. The diagram of thehuman hand given by him does not differ greatly from that of thecontemporary hand-books of the "Art, " and the leading lines are just thesame. The heavenly bodies are as potent here as in Horoscopy. The thumb isgiven to Mars, the index finger to Jupiter, the middle finger to Saturn, the ring finger to the Sun, and the little finger to Venus. Eachfinger-joint has its name, the lowest being called the procondyle, themiddle the condyle, and the upper the metacondyle. He passes briefly overas lines of little import, the _via combusta_ and the _Cingulus Orionis_, but lays some stress on the character of the nails and the knittingtogether of the hand, declaring that hands which can be bent easilybackward denote effeminacy or a rapacious spirit. He teaches that linesare most abundant in the hands of children, on account of the tendernessof the skin, and of old men on account of the dryness, a statement whichmight suggest the theory that lines come into existence through theopening and closing of the hand. But the adoption of this view would haveproved more disastrous to chiromancy than ridicule or serious criticism;so he straightway finds an explanation for this fact in the postulate thatlines in young people's hands speak as to the future, and in old men's asto the past. Later he goes on to affirm that lines in the hand cannot betreated as mere wrinkles arising from the folding of the skin, unless weare prepared to admit that wrinkled people are more humorous than others, alluding no doubt to the lines in the face caused by laughter, aproposition which does not seem altogether convincing or consequential, unless we also postulate that all humorous men laugh at every joke. Thereis a line in the hand which he calls the _linea jecoraria_, and thetriangle formed by this and the _linea vitæ_ and the _linea cerebri_, rules the disposition of the subject, due consideration being given to theacuteness or obtuseness of the angles of this triangle. Cardan seems tohave based his treatise on one written by a certain Ruffus Ephesius, andit is without doubt one of the dullest portions of his work. [123]

It is almost certain that Cardan purposed to let the _De Varietate_ comeforth from the press immediately after the _De Subtilitate_, but beforethe MS. Was ready, it came to pass that he was called to make thatmemorable journey to Scotland in order to find a remedy for the ailmentwhich was troubling the Archbishop of St. Andrews, a journey which hasgiven to Britons a special interest in his life and work. In dealing withthe Cosmos in the _De Subtilitate_ he had indeed made brief mention ofBritain; but, writing then, he had no personal relations with eitherEngland or Scotland, or the people thereof; and, but for his subsequentvisit, he would not have been able to set down in the pages of his secondbook so many interesting and suggestive notes of what he had seen andheard, and his ideas of the politics of the time. Again, if he had notbeen urged by the desire all men feel to read what others may have to sayabout places they have visited, it is not likely that he would havesearched the volumes of Hector Boethius and other early writers forlegends and stories of our island. Writing of Britain[124] in the _DeSubtilitate_ he had praised its delicate wool and its freedom frompoisonous beasts: a land where the wolf had been exterminated, and wherethe sheep might roam unvexed by any beast more formidable than the fox. The inordinate breeding of rooks seems even in those days[125] to have ledto a war of extermination against them, carried on upon a system akin tothat which was waged against the sparrow in the memory of men yet living. But besides this one, he records, in the _De Subtilitate_, few factsconcerning Britain. He quotes the instances of Duns Scotus and Suisset insupport of the view that the barbarians are equal to the Italians inintellect, [126] and he likewise notices the use of a fertilizingearth--presumably marl--in agriculture, [127] and the longevity of thepeople, some of whom have reached their hundred and twentieth year. [128]The first notice of us in the _De Varietate_ is in praise of our forestry, forasmuch as he remarked that the plane tree, which is almost unknown inItaly through neglect, thrives well in Scotland, he himself having seenspecimens over thirty feet high growing in the garden of the Augustinianconvent near Edinburgh. The lack of fruit in England he attributes ratherto the violence of the wind than to the cold; but, in spite of our cruelskies, he was able to eat ripe plums in September, in a district close tothe Scottish border. He bewails the absence of olives and nuts, andrecommends the erection of garden-walls in order to help on thecultivation of the more delicate fruits. 

In a conversation with the Archbishop of St. Andrews he was told that theKing of Scots ruled over one hundred and sixty-one islands, that thepeople of the Shetland Islands lived for the most part on fish prepared byfreezing or sun-drying or fire, and had no other wealth than the skins ofbeasts. Cardan pictures the Shetlanders of that time as leading an ideallife, unvexed by discord, war, or ambition, labouring in the summer forthe needs of winter, worshipping Christ, visited only once a year by apriest from Orkney, who came over to baptize the children born within thelast twelve months, and was remunerated by a tenth of the catch of fish. He speaks of the men of Orkney as a very lively, robust, and open-heartedcrew, furnished with heads strong enough to defy drunkenness, even afterswallowing draughts of the most potent wine. The land swarms with birds, and the sheep bring forth two or even three lambs at a time. The horsesare a mean breed, and resemble asses both as to their size and theirpatience. Some one told him of a fish, often seen round about the islands, as big or even bigger than a horse, with a hide of marvellous toughness, and useful for the abundance of oil yielded by its carcase. He attributesthe bodily strength of these northerners to the absence of fourdeleterious influences--drunkenness, care, heat, and dry air. Cardan seemsto have been astonished at the wealth of precious stones he found inScotland--dark blue stones, diamonds, and carbuncles[129]--"maxime juxtaacademiam Glaguensis oppidi in Gludisdalia regione, " and he casts about toexplain how it is that England produces nothing of the kind, but onlysilver and lead. He solves the question by laying down an axiom that theharder the environment, the harder the stone produced. The mountains ofScotland are both higher and presumably harder than those of England, hence the carbuncles. 

He was evidently fascinated with the wealth of local legend and storywhich haunted the misty regions he visited. In dealing with demons andfamiliar spirits he cites the authority of Merlin, "whose fame is stillgreat in England, " and tells a story of a young woman living in thecountry of Mar. [130] This damsel was of noble family and very fair inperson, but she displayed a great unwillingness to enter the marriagestate. One day it was discovered that she was pregnant, and when theparents went to make inquisition for the seducer, the girl confessed that, both by day and night, a young man of surpassing beauty used to come andlie with her. Who he was and whence he came she knew not. They, thoughthey gave little credit to her words, were informed by her handmaid, somethree days afterwards, that the young man was once more with her;wherefore, having broken open the door, they entered, bearing lights andtorches, and beheld, lying in their daughter's arms, a monster, fearsomeand dreadful beyond human belief. All the neighbours ran quickly to beholdthe grisly sight, and amongst them a good priest, well acquainted withpagan rites. When he had come anear, and had said some verses of theGospel of Saint John, the fiend vanished with a terrible noise, bearingaway the roof of the chamber, and leaving the bed in flames. In threedays' time the girl gave birth to a monstrous child, more hideous thananything heretofore seen in Scotland, wherefore the nurses, to keep offdisgrace from the family, caused it to be burnt on a pile of wood. Thereis another story of a youth living about fourteen miles from Aberdeen, whowas visited every night by a demon lady of wonderful loveliness, though hebolted and locked his chamber-door; but by fasting and praying andkeeping his thoughts fixed on holy things he rid himself at last of theunclean spirit. [131] He quotes from Boethius the whole story ofMacbeth, [132] and tells how "Duffus rex" languished and wasted under themalefic arts of certain witches who made an image of the king in wax and, by using various incantations, let the same melt slowly away before thefire. The unhappy king came near to die, but, as soon as these nefariouspractices were discovered, the image was destroyed, whereupon the king wasrestored to health. [133]

When Cardan received the first letter from Scotland the manuscript of the_De Varietate_ must have been ready or nearly ready for the printer; but, for some reason or other, he determined to postpone the publication of thework until he should have finished with the Archbishop, and took hismanuscript with him when he set forth on his travels. In 1550 there cameanother break in Cardan's life as Professor at Pavia, the reason being theusual one of dearth of funds. [134] In 1551 he went back for a short time, but the storms of war were rising on all sides, and the luckless city ofPavia was in the very centre of the disturbance. The French once morecrossed the Alps, pillaging and devastating the country, their ostensiblemission being the vindication of the rights of Ottavio Farnese to theDuchy of Parma. Ottavio had quarrelled with Pope Julius III. , who calledupon the Emperor for assistance. War was declared, and Charles set to workto annex Parma and Piacenza as well to the Milanese. Cardan withdrew toMilan at the end of the year. Gian Battista had now completed his medicalcourse, so there was now no reason why he should continue to livepermanently at Pavia. Moreover at this juncture he seems to have beenstrongly moved to augment the fame which he had already won in Mathematicsand Medicine by some great literary achievement, and he worked diligentlywith this object in view. [135]

At the beginning of November 1551, a letter came to him fromCassanate, [136] a Franco-Spanish physician, who was at that time inattendance upon the Archbishop of St. Andrews, requesting him to make thejourney to Paris, and there to meet the Archbishop, who was suffering froman affection of the lungs. The fame of Cardan as a physician had spread asfar as Scotland, and the Archbishop had set his heart on consulting him. Cassanate's letter is of prodigious length. After a diffuse exordium heproceeds to praise in somewhat fulsome terms the _De Libris Propriis_ andthe treatises _De Sapientia_[137] and _De Consolatione_, which had beengiven to him by a friend when he was studying at Toulouse in 1549. He hadjust read the _De Subtilitate_, and was inflamed with desire to becomeacquainted with everything which Cardan had ever written. But what struckCassanate more than anything was a passage in the _De Sapientia_ on amedical question, which he extracts and incorporates in his epistle. Cardan writes there: "But if my profession itself will not give me aliving, nor open out an avenue to some other career, I must needs set mybrains to work, to find therein something unknown hitherto, for the charmof novelty is unfailing, something which would prove of the highestutility in a particular case. In Milan, while I was fighting the battleagainst hostile prejudice, and was unable to earn enough to pay my way (somuch harder is the lot of manifest than of hidden merit, and no man ishonoured as a prophet in his own country), I brought to light much freshknowledge, and worked my hardest at my art, for outside my art there wasnaught to be done. At last I discovered a cure for phthisis, which is alsoknown as Phthoe, a disease for many centuries deemed incurable, and Ihealed many who are alive to this day as easily as I have cured the_Gallicus morbus_. I also discovered a cure for intercutaneous water inmany who still survive. But in the matter of invention, Reason will be theleader, but Experiment the Master, the stimulating cause of work inothers. If in any experiment there should seem to be an element of danger, let it be performed gently, and little by little. "[138] It is notwonderful that the Archbishop, who doubtless heard all about Cardan'sasserted cure of phthisis from Cassanate, should have been eager to submithis asthma to Cardan's skill. After acknowledging the deep debt ofgratitude which he, in common with the whole human race, owed to Cardan inrespect to the two discoveries aforesaid, Cassanate comes to the businessin hand, to wit, the Archbishop's asthma. Not content with giving a mostminute description of the symptoms, he furnishes Cardan also with a theoryof the operations of the distemper. He writes: "The disease at first tookthe form of a distillation from the brain into the lungs, accompanied withhoarseness, which, with the help of the physician in attendance, was curedfor a time, but the temperature of the brain continued unfavourable, beingtoo cold and too moist, so that certain unhealthy humours were collectedin the head and there remained, because the brain could neitherassimilate its own nutriment, nor disperse the humours which arose frombelow, being weakened through its nutriment of pituitous blood. After anattack of this nature it always happened that, whenever the body wasfilled with any particular matter, which, in the form of substance, orvapour, or quality, might invade the brain, a fresh attack would certainlyarise, in the form of a fresh flow of the same humour down to the lungs. Moreover these attacks were found to agree almost exactly with theconjunctions and oppositions of the moon. "[139]

Cassanate goes on to say that his patient had proved somewhat intractable, refusing occasionally to have anything to do with his medical attendants, and that real danger was impending owing to the flow of humour havingbecome chronic. Fortunately this humour was not acrid or salt; if it were, phthisis must at once supervene. But the Archbishop's lungs were becomingmore and more clogged with phlegm, and a stronger effort of coughing wasnecessary to clear them. Latterly much of the thick phlegm had adhered tothe lungs, and consequently the difficulty of breathing was great. Cassanate declares that he had been able to do no more than to keep theArchbishop alive, and he fears no one would be able to work a completecure, seeing that the air of Scotland is so moist and salt, and that theArchbishop is almost worried to death by the affairs of State. He nexturges Cardan to consent to meet the Archbishop in Paris, a city in whichlearning of all sorts flourishes exceedingly, the nurse of many greatphilosophers, and one in which Cardan would assuredly meet the honour andreverence which is his due. The Archbishop's offer was indeed magnificentin its terms. Funds would be provided generous enough to allow thephysician to travel post the whole of the journey, and the goodwill of allthe rulers of the states _en route_ would be enlisted in his favour. Cassanate finishes by fixing the end of January 1552 as a convenient datefor the _rendezvous_ in Paris, and, as time and place accorded withCardan's wishes, he wrote to Cassanate accepting the offer. 

The Archbishop of St. Andrews was John Hamilton, the illegitimate brotherof James, Earl of Arran, who had been chosen Regent of the kingdom afterthe death of James V. At Flodden, and the bar sinister, in this case as inmany others, was the ensign of a courage and talent and resource in whichthe lawful offspring was conspicuously wanting. Any student taking acursory glance at the epoch of violence and complicated intrigue whichmarked the infancy of Mary of Scotland, may well be astonished that a manso weak and vain and incompetent as James Hamilton--albeit his footing wasmade more secure by his position as the Queen's heir-presumptive--shouldhave held possession of his high dignities so long as he did. Alternatelythe tool of France and of England, he would one day cause his great rivalCardinal Beatoun to be proclaimed an enemy of his country, and the nextwould meet him amicably and adopt his policy. After becoming the partisanof Henry VIII. And the foe of Rome, he finally put the coping-stone to hisinconsistencies by becoming a convert to Catholicism in 1543. But in spiteof his indolence and weakness, he was still Regent of Scotland, when hisbrother, the Archbishop, was seized with that attack of periodic asthmawhich threatened to change vitally the course of Scottish politics. A veryslight study of contemporary records will show that Arran had beenlargely, if not entirely, indebted to the distinguished talents and to theambition of his brother for his continued tenure of the chief power of theState. If confirmation of this view be needed, it will be found in thefact that, as soon as the Archbishop was confined to a sick-room, Mary ofGuise, the Queen Mother, supported by her brothers in France and by theCatholic party at home, began to undermine the Regent's position byintrigue, and ultimately, partly by coaxing, partly by threats, won fromhim a promise to surrender his power into her hands. 

In the meantime Cardan was waiting for further intelligence and directionsas to his journey. The end of January had been fixed as the date of themeeting at Paris, and it was not until the middle of February that anyfurther tidings came to him. Then he received a letter from Cassanate anda remittance to cover the expenses of his journey. [140] He set out at onceon February 22, undaunted by the prospect of a winter crossing of theSimplon, and, having travelled by way of Sion and Geneva, arrived at Lyonson March 13. In Cassanate's first letter Paris had been named as the placeof meeting; but, as a concession to Cardan's convenience, Lyons was addedas an alternative, in case he should find it impossible to spare time fora longer journey. Cardan accordingly halted at Lyons, but neitherArchbishop nor physician was there to meet him. After he had waited formore than a month, Cassanate appeared alone, and brought with him a heavypurse of money for the cost of the long journey to Scotland, which he nowbegged Cardan to undertake, and a letter from the Archbishop himself, whowrote word that, though he had fully determined in the first instance torepair to Paris, or even to Lyons, to meet Cardan, he found himself atpresent mastered by the turn of circumstances, and compelled to stay athome. He promised Cardan a generous reward, and a reception of a nature toconvince him that the Scots are not such Scythians as they might perchancebe deemed in Milan. [141] Cardan's temper was evidently upset by this turnof affairs, and his suspicions aroused; for he sets down his belief thatpatient and physician had from the first worked with the intention ofdragging him all the way to Scotland, but that they had waited till he wasacross the Alps before showing their hand, fearing lest if the wordScotland should have been used at the outset, he would never have movedfrom Milan. [142] In describing his journey he writes:--"I tarried in Lyonsforty-six days, seeing nothing of the Archbishop, nor of the physicianwhom I expected, nevertheless I gained more than I spent. I met thereLudovico Birago, a gentleman of Milan, and commander of the King'sfoot-soldiers, and with him I contracted a close friendship, so much sothat, had I been minded to take service under Brissac, the King'slieutenant, I might have enjoyed a salary of one thousand crowns a year. Shortly afterwards Guglielmo Cassanate, the Archbishop's physician, arrived in Lyons and brought with him three hundred other golden crowns, which he handed to me, in order that I might make the journey with him toScotland, offering in addition to pay the cost of travel, and promising medivers gifts in addition. Thus, making part of our journey down theLoire, I arrived at Paris. While I was there I met Orontius; but he forsome reason or other refused to visit me. Under the escort ofMagnienus[143] I inspected the treasury of the French Kings, and theChurch of Saint Denis. I saw likewise something there, not so famous, butmore interesting to my mind, and this was the horn of a unicorn, whole anduninjured. After this we met the King's physicians, and we all dinedtogether, but I declined to hold forth to them during dinner, becausebefore we sat down they were urgent that I should begin a discussion. Inext set forth on my journey, my relations with Pharnelius and Silvius, and another of the King's physicians, [144] whom I left behind, being of amost friendly nature, and travelled to Boulogne in France, where, by thecommand of the Governor of Sarepont, an escort of fourteen armed horsemenand twenty foot-soldiers was assigned to me, and so to Calais. I saw thetower of Cæsar still standing. Then having crossed the narrow sea I wentto London, and at last met the Archbishop at Edinburgh on thetwenty-ninth of June. I remained there till the thirteenth of September. Ireceived as a reward four hundred more gold crowns; a chain of gold wortha hundred and twenty crowns, a noble horse, and many other gifts, in orderthat no one of those who were with me should return empty-handed. "[145]

The Archbishop's illness might in itself have supplied a reason for hisinability to travel abroad and meet Cardan as he had agreed to do; but thereal cause of his change of plan was doubtless the condition of publicaffairs in Scotland at the beginning of 1552. In the interval of timebetween Cassanate's first letter to Cardan and the end of 1551, the Regenthad half promised to surrender his office into the hands of the Guiseparty in Scotland, wherefore it was no wonder that the Primate, recognizing how grave was the danger which threatened the source of hispower, should have resolved that, sick or sound, his proper place was atthe Scottish Court. 

FOOTNOTES:

[112] Vesalius had certainly lectured on anatomy at Pavia, but it wouldappear that Cardan did not know him personally, seeing that he writes in_De Libris Propriis_ (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 138): "Brasavolum ... Nunquamvidi, ut neque Vesalium quamquam intimum mihi amicum. "

[113] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxii. P. 99. 

[114] In describing Fazio, Jerome writes: "Erat Euclidis operum studiosus, et humeris incurvis: et filius meus natu major ore, oculis, incessu, humeris, illi simillimus. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Iii. P. 8. In the samechapter Fazio is described as "Blæsus in loquendo; variorum studiorumamator: ruber, oculis albis et quibus noctu videret. "

[115] "At uxor mea imaginabatur assidue se videre calvariam patris, quierat absens dum utero gereret Jo: Baptistam. "--_Paralipomenon_, lib. Iii. C. 21. 

[116] _De Utilitate_, p. 832. 

[117] "Post ex geminatis somniis, scripsi libros de Subtilitate quosimpressos auxi et denuo superauctos tertio excudi curavi. "--_De VitaPropria_, ch. Xlv. P. 175. 

[118] "Libros de Rerum varietate anno MDLVIII edidi: erant enim reliquiælibrorum de subtilitate. "--_De Vita Propria_, p. 176. "Reversus inpatriam, perfeci libros XVII de Rerum varietate quos jamprideminchoaveram. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 110. He had collected much materialduring his life at Gallarate. 

[119] Aristotle, _Metaphysics_, book I. Ch. V. , contains an examination ofthe Pythagorean doctrine which maintains Number to be the Substance of allthings:--[Greek: all' auto to apeiron kai auto to hen ousian einai toutônôn katêgorountai. ]

[120] "Sed nullus major labor quam libri de Rerum Varietate quem cumsæpius mutassem, demum traductis quibuscunque insignioribus rebus inlibros de Subtilitate, ita illum exhausi, ut totus denuo conscribendusfuerit atque ex integro restituendus. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 74. 

He seems to have utilized the services of Ludovico Ferrari in compilingthis work. --_Opera_, tom. I. P. 64. 

[121] _De Varietate_, p. 661. 

[122] Book XV. Ch. Lxxix. 

[123] He gives one example of his skill as a palmist in the _De VitaPropria_: "Memini me dum essem adolescens, persuasum fuisse cuidam JoanniStephano Biffo, quod essem Chiromanticus, et tamen nil minus: rogat ille, ut prædicam ei aliquid de vita; dixi delusum esse a sociis, urget, veniampeto si quicquam gravius prædixero: dixi periculum imminere brevi desuspendio, intra hebdomadam capitur, admovetur tormentis: pertinaciterdelictum negat, nihilominus tandem post sex menses laqueo vitamfinivit. "--ch. Xlii. P. 156. 

[124] "Ergo nunc Britannia inclyta vellere est. Nec mirum cum null[u=]animal venenat[u=] mittat, imò nec infestum præter vulpem, olim et lupum:nunc vero exterminatis etiam lupis, tutò pecus vagat. Rore coeli sitimsedant greges, ab omni alio potu arcentur, quod aquæ ibi ovibus sintexitiales: quia tamen in pabulo humido vermes multi abundant, cornic[u=]adeo multitudo crevit, ut ob frugum damna nuper publico consilio illasperdentibus proposita præmia sint: ubi enim pabulum, ibi animalia sunt quæeo vescuntur, atque immodicè tunc multiplicantur cum ubique abundaverit. Caret tamen ut dixi, serpentibus, tribus ex causis: nam pauci possuntgenerari ob frigus immensum. "--_De Subtilitate_, p. 298. 

[125] Æneas Sylvius in describing his visit to Britain a century earliersays that rooks had been recently introduced, and that the trees on whichthey roosted and built belonged to the King's Exchequer. 

[126] "Ejusdem insulæ accola fuit Ioannes, ut dixi, Suisset [RichardSwineshead] cognom[e=]to Calculator; in cujus solius unius argumentisolutione, quod contra experiment[u=] est de actione mutua tota laboravitposteritas; quem senem admodum, nec inventa sua dum legeret intelligentem, flevisse referunt. Ex quo haud dubium esse reor, quod etiam in libro deanimi immortalite scripsi, barbaros ingenio nobis haud esse inferiores:quandoquidem sub Brumæ cælo divisa toto orbe Britannia duos tam clariingenii viros emiserit. "--_De Subtilitate_, p. 444. 

[127] _Ibid. , _ p. 142. 

[128] p. 369. 

[129] The fame of Scots as judges of precious stones had spread to Italybefore Cardan's time. In the _Novellino_ of Masuccio, which was firstprinted in 1476, there is a passage in the tenth novel of the first part, in which a rogue passes as "grandissimo cognoscitore" of gems because hehad spent much time in Scotland. 

[130] _De Varietate_, p. 636. 

[131] _De Varietate_, p. 637. 

[132] _Ibid. , _ p. 637. 

[133] _Ibid. , _ p. 565. 

[134] "Peracto L anno quod stipendium non remuneraretur mansiMediolani. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 15. 

[135] About this time he wrote the _Liber Decem Problematum_, and thetreatise _Delle Burle Calde_, one of his few works written inItalian. --_Opera_, tom. I. P. 109. 

[136] Cassanate's letter is given in full (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 89). 

[137] The quotation from the _De Sapientia_ differs somewhat from theoriginal passage which stands on p. 578 of the same volume. 

[138] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 89. 

[139] In a subsequent interview with Cardan, Cassanate modifies thisstatement. --_Opera_, tom. Ix. P. 124. 

[140] "Accepique antequam discederem aureos coronatos Gallicos 500 etM. C. C. In reditu. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 16. 

[141] "Difficillimis causis victus venire non potui. " The Archbishop'sletter is given in _Opera_, tom. I. P. 137. 

[142] _Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 469. 

[143] He mentions this personage in _De Varietate_, p. 672: "JohannesManienus medicus, vir egregius et mathematicaram studiosus. " He wasphysician to the monks of Saint Denis. 

[144] The reception given to Cardan in Paris was a very friendly one. Orontius was a mechanician and mathematician; and jealousy of Cardan'sgreat repute may have kept him away from the dinner, but the physicianswere most hospitable. Pharnelius [Fernel] was Professor of Medicine at theUniversity, and physician to the Court. Sylvius was an old man of ajocular nature, but as an anatomist bitterly opposed to the novel methodsof Vesalius, who was one of Cardan's heroes. With this possibility ofquarrelling over the merits of Vesalius, it speaks well for the temper ofthe doctors that they parted on good terms. Ranconet, another Parisian whowelcomed Cardan heartily, was one of the Presidents of the Parliament ofParis. He seems to have been a man of worth and distinguished attainments, and Cardan gives an interesting account of him in _Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 423. 

[145] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxix. P. 75. Cardan refers more than once tothe generosity of the Archbishop. He computes (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 93)that his visit must have cost Hamilton four talents of gold; that is tosay, two thousand golden crowns. 

CHAPTER VII

CARDAN, as he has himself related, arrived at Edinburgh on June 29, 1552. The coming of such a man at such a time must have been an event ofextraordinary interest. In England the Italy of the Renaissance had beenin a measure realized by men of learning and intellect through the reportsof the numerous scholars--John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, Henry Parker, Lord Morley, Howard Earl of Surrey, and Sir Thomas Wyat, may be taken asexamples--who had wandered thither and come back with a stock of historiessetting forth the beauty and charm, and also the terror and wickedness, ofthat wonderful land. Some echoes of this legend had doubtless drifted downto Scotland, and possibly still more may have been wafted over fromFrance. Ascham had taken up his parable in the _Schoolmaster_, describingthe devilish sins and corruptions of Italy, and now the good people ofEdinburgh were to be given the sight of a man coming thence, one who wasfabled to have gathered together more knowledge, both of this world and ofthat other hidden one which was to them just as real, than any mortal manalive. Under these circumstances it is not surprising that Cardan shouldhave been regarded rather as a magician than as a doctor, and in the_Scotichronicon_[146] it is recorded that the Primate was cured of alingering asthma by the incantations of an astrologer named Cardan, fromMilan. Cardan in his narrative speaks of Edinburgh as the place where hemet his patient, and does not mention any other place of sojourn, but therecord just quoted goes on to say that he abode with the Primate foreleven weeks at his country residence at Monimail, near Cupar, Fife, wherethere is a well called to this day Cardan's Well. 

Cardan, as it has been noticed already, refused to commit himself to anyopinion as to the character of the Archbishop's distemper over thedinner-table where he and Cassanate had been entertained by the FrenchKing's physicians. Cassanate had set forth his views in full as to thenature of the asthma which had to be dealt with in his letter to Cardan, and it is highly probable that he would again bring forward these views inthe hearing of the Paris doctors. It is certain that some of the Frenchphysicians had, previous to this, prescribed a course of treatment for theArchbishop, probably without seeing him, and that the course was beingtried when Cardan arrived in Edinburgh. [147] For the first six weeks ofhis stay he watched the case, and let the treatment aforesaid goon--whether it differed from that which Cassanate recommended or not thereis no evidence to show. But no good result came of it. The Archbishopwasted in body and became fretful and disturbed in mind, and, at last, Cardan was obliged to let his opinion of the case be known; and, as thiswas entirely hostile to the treatment which was being pursued, theinevitable quarrel between the doctors burst forth with great violence. The Archbishop was irate with his ordinary medical attendant, probably thephysician who was left in charge during Cassanate's absence--and this manretaliated upon Cardan for having thus stirred up strife. Cardan'sposition was certainly a very uneasy one. The other physicians were fullof jealousy and malice, and the Archbishop began to accuse him of dilatoryconduct of the case, redoubling his complaints as soon as he found himselfgetting better under the altered treatment. So weary did Cardan become ofthis bickering that he begged leave to depart at once, but thisproposition the Primate took in very ill part. 

Cassanate in his first diagnosis had traced the Archbishop's illness to anexcess of coldness and humidity in the brain. Now Cardan, on the otherhand, maintained that the brain was too hot. He found Cassanate'streatment too closely fettered by his theory as to the causes of periodicasthma, but he did not venture to exhibit his own course of treatment tillafter he had gained some knowledge of the Archbishop's temper and habits. He came to the conclusion that his patient was overwrought with the caresof State, that he ate too freely, that he did not sleep enough, and thathe was of a temper somewhat choleric. Cardan set forth this view of thecase in a voluminous document, founding the course of treatment heproposed to pursue upon the aphorisms of Galen. He altogether rejectedCassanate's view as to the retention of the noxious humours in the head. The Archbishop had the ruddy complexion of a man in good health, acondition which could scarcely co-exist with the loading of the brainwith matter which would certainly putrify if retained for any long time. Cardan maintained that the serous humour descended into the lungs, not bythe passages, but by soaking through the membranes as through linen. [148]After describing the origin and the mode of descent of this humour, hegoes on to search for an auxiliary cause of the mischief, and this hefinds in the imperfect digestive powers of the stomach and liver. If thecause lay entirely in the brain, how was it that all the cerebralfunctions were not vitiated? In fine, the source of the disease lay, notin the weakness of the brain, but in an access of heat, caused possibly byexposure to the sun, by which the matter of the brain had become sorarefied that it showed unhealthy activity in absorbing moisture from theother parts. This heat, therefore, must be reduced. 

To accomplish this end three lines of treatment must be followed. First, aproper course of diet; second, drugs; and third, certain manualoperations. As to diet, the Archbishop was ordered to take nothing butlight and cooling food, two to four pints of asses' milk in the earlymorning, drawn from an ass fed on cooling herbs, and to use all such foodsas had a fattening tendency; tortoise or turtle-soup, [149] distilledsnails, barley-water and chicken-broth, and divers other rich edibles. Thepurging of the brain was a serious business; it was to be compassed by anapplication to the coronal suture of an ointment made of Greek pitch, ship's tar, white mustard, euphorbium, and honey of anathardus: thecompound to be sharpened, if necessary, by the addition of blister fly, orrendered less searching by leaving out the euphorbium and mustard. Cardanadds, that, by the use of this persuasive application, he had sometimesbrought out two pints of water in twenty-four hours. The use of theshower-bath and plentiful rubbing with dry cloths was also recommended. 

The purging of the body was largely a question of diet. To preventgeneration of moisture, perfumes were to be used; the patient was to sleepon raw silk and not upon feathers, and to let an hour and a half comebetween supper and bed-time. Sleep, after all, was the great thing to besought. The Archbishop was counselled to sleep from seven to ten hours, and to subtract time from his studies and his business and add the same tosleep. [150]

Cardan's treatment, which seems to have been suggested as much by the manof common-sense as by the physician, soon began to tell favourably uponthe Archbishop. He remained for thirty-five days in charge of his patient, during which time the distemper lost its virulence and the patient gainedflesh. In the meantime the fame of his skill had spread abroad, andwell-nigh the whole nobility of Scotland flocked to consult him, [151] andthey paid him so liberally that on one day he made nineteen golden crowns. But when winter began to draw near, Cardan felt that it was time to movesouthward. He feared the cold; he longed to get back to his sons, and hewas greatly troubled by the continued ill-behaviour of one of the servantshe had brought with him--"maledicus, invidus, avarissimus, Deicontemptor;" but he found his patient very loth to let him depart. TheArchbishop declared that his illness was alleviated but not cured, andonly gave way unwillingly when Cardan brought forward arguments to showwhat dangers and inconveniences he would incur through a longer stay. Cardan had originally settled to return by way of Paris, but letters whichhe received from his young kinsman, Gasparo Cardano, and from Ranconet, led him to change his plans. The country was in a state of anarchy, theroads being infested with thieves, and Gasparo himself had the bad fortuneto be taken by a gang of ruffians. In consequence of these things Cardandetermined to return by way of Flanders and the Empire. 

It was not in reason that Cardan would quit Scotland and resign the careof his patient without taking the stars into his counsel as to the future. He cast the Archbishop's horoscope, and published it in the _GeniturarumExempla_. It was not a successful feat. In his forty-eighth year, _i. E. _in 1560, the astrologer declared that Hamilton would be in danger ofpoison and of suffering from an affection of the heart. But the time ofthe greatest peril seemed to lie between July 30 and September 21, 1554. The stars gave no warning of the tragic fate which befell ArchbishopHamilton in the not very distant future. For the succeeding six years hegoverned the Church in Scotland with prudence and leniency, but in 1558 hebegan a persecution of the reformers which kindled a religious strife, highly embarrassing to the Catholic party then holding the reins ofpower. His cruelties were borne in mind by the reformers when they got theupper hand. In 1563 he was imprisoned for saying mass. In 1568 Mary, afterher escape from Loch Leven, gave the chief direction of her affairs intothe hands of the Archbishop, who was the bitter foe of the Regent Murray. Murray having defeated the Queen's forces at Langside, Hamilton tookrefuge in Dumbarton Castle, which was surprised and captured in 1571, whenthe Archbishop was taken to Stirling and hanged. In the words of the_Diurnal of Occurrants_: "as the bell struck six hours at even, he washangit at the mercat cross of Stirling upon a jebat. "[152] His enemieswould not let him rest even there, for the next day, fixed to the tree, were found the following verses:

 "Cresce diu, felix arbor, semperque vireto Frondibus ut nobis talia poma feras. "

To return to Cardan. Having at last won from his patient leave to depart, he set forth laden with rich gifts. In Scotland, Cardan found the mostgenerous paymasters he had ever met. In recording the niggard treatmentwhich he subsequently experienced at the hands of Brissac, the FrenchViceroy, he contrasts it with the liberal rewards granted to him in whatmust then have been the poorest of the European kingdoms;[153] and in thePreface of the _De Astrorum Judiciis_ (Basel, 1554) he writes insympathetic and grateful terms of the kind usage he had met in theNorth. [154] It must have been a severe disappointment to him that he wasunable to revisit Paris on his way home, for letters from his friendRanconet told him that a great number of illustrious men had proposed torepair to Paris for the sake of meeting him; and many of the nobles ofFrance were anxious to consult him professionally, one of them offering afee of a thousand gold crowns. But Cardan was so terrified by the reportgiven by Gasparo of the state of France, that he made up his mind he wouldon no account touch its frontiers on his homeward journey. 

Before he quitted Scotland there had come to him letters from the EnglishCourt entreating him to tarry there some days on his way home to Italy, and give his opinion on the health of Edward VI. , who was then slowlyrecovering from an attack of smallpox and measles. The young King'srecovery was more apparent than real, for he was, in fact, slowly sinkingunder the constitutional derangement which killed him a few months later. Cardan could hardly refuse to comply with this request, nor is there anyevidence to show that he made this visit to London unwillingly. But hesoon found out that those about the Court were anxious to hear from himsomething more than a statement of his opinion as to Edward's health. Theywanted, before all else, to learn what the stars had to say as to theprobable duration of the sovereign's life. During his stay in ScotlandCardan would certainly have gained some intelligence of the existingstate of affairs at the English Court; how in the struggle for the custodyof the regal power, the Lord High Admiral and the Lord Protector, theKing's uncles, had lost their heads; and how the Duke of Northumberland, the son of Dudley, the infamous minion of Henry VII. And the destroyer ofthe ill-fated Seymours, had now gathered all the powers and dignities ofthe kingdom into his own hands, and was waiting impatiently for the deathof Edward, an event which would enable him to control yet more completelythe supreme power, through the puppet queen whom he had ready at hand toplace upon the throne. An Italian of the sixteenth century, steeped in thetraditions of the bloody and insidious state-craft of Milan and theLombard cities, Cardan would naturally shrink from committing himself toany such perilous utterance: all the more for the reason that he hadalready formed an estimate of the English as a fierce and cruel people. With his character as a magician to maintain he could scarcely keep entiresilence, so he wrote down for the satisfaction of his interrogators ahoroscope: a mere perfunctory piece of work, as we learn afterwards. Hebegins by reciting the extraordinary nature of the King's birth, repeatingthe legend that his mother was delivered of him by surgical aid, and onlylived a few hours afterwards; and declares that, in his opinion, it wouldhave been better had this boy never been born at all. "Nevertheless, seeing that he had come into this world and been duly trained andeducated, it would be well for mankind were he to live long, for all thegraces waited upon him. Boy as he was, he was skilled in divers tongues, Latin, English, and French, and not unversed in Greek, Italian, andSpanish; he had likewise knowledge of dialectics, natural philosophy, andmusic. His culture is the reflection of our mortal nature; his gravitythat of kingly majesty, and his disposition is worthy of so illustrious aprince. Speaking generally, it was indeed a strange experience to realizethat this boy of so great talent and promise was being educated in theknowledge of the affairs of men. I have not set forth his accomplishments, tricked out with rhetoric so as to exceed the truth; of which, in sooth, my relation falls short. " Cardan next draws a figure of Edward'shoroscope, and devotes several pages to the customary jargon ofastrologers; and, under the heading "De animi qualitatibus, " says: "Therewas something portentous about this boy. He had learnt, as I heard, sevenlanguages, and certainly he knew thoroughly his own, French, and Latin. Hewas skilled in Dialectic, and eager to be instructed in all subjects. WhenI met him, he was in his fifteenth year, and he asked me (speaking Latinno less perfectly and fluently than myself), 'What is contained in thoserare books of yours, _De rerum varietate_?' for I had dedicated thesemanuscripts to his name. [155] Whereupon I began by pointing out to himwhat I had written in the opening chapter on the cause of the comets whichothers had sought so long in vain. He was curious to hear more of thiscause, so I went on to tell him that it was the collected light of thewandering stars. 'Then, ' said he, 'how is it, since the stars are setgoing by various impulses, that this light is not scattered, or carriedalong with the stars in their courses?' I replied: 'It does indeed movewith them, but at a speed vastly greater on account of the difference ofour point of view; as, for instance, when the prism is cast upon the wallby the sun and the crystal, then the least motion of the crystal willshift the position of the reflection to a great distance. ' The King said:'But how can this be done when no _subjectum_ is provided? for in the caseyou quote the wall is the _subjectum_ to the reflection. ' I replied: 'Itis a similar effect to that which we observe in the Milky Way, and in thereflection of light when many candles are lighted in a mass; these alwaysproduce a certain clear and lucent medium. _Itaque ex ungue leonem_. '

"This youth was the great hope of good and learned men everywhere, byreason of his frankness and the gentleness of his manners. He began totake an interest in the Arts before he understood them, and to understandthem before he had full occasion to use them. The production of such apersonality was an effort of humanity; and, should he be snatched awaybefore his time, not only England, but all the world must mourn his loss. 

"When he was required to show the gravity of a king, he would appear to bean old man. He played upon the lyre; he took interest in public affairs;and was of a kingly mind, following thus the example of his father, who, while he was over-careful to do right, managed to exhibit himself to theworld in an evil light. But the son was free from any suspicion of such acharge, and his intelligence was brought to maturity by the study ofphilosophy. "

Cardan next makes an attempt to gauge the duration of the King's life, andwhen it is considered that he was a skilled physician, and Edward a sicklyboy, fast sinking into a decline, it is to be feared that he let sinceritygive way to prudence when he proclaimed that, in his fifty-sixth year theKing would be troubled with divers illnesses. "Speaking generally of thewhole duration of his life he will be found to be steadfast, firm, severe, chaste, intelligent, an observer of righteousness, patient undertrouble, mindful both of injuries and benefits, one demanding reverenceand seeking his own. He would lust as a man, but would suffer the curse ofimpotence. He would be wise beyond measure, and thereby win the admirationof the world; very prudent and high-minded; fortunate, and indeed a secondSolomon. "

Edward VI. Died on July 6, 1553, about six months after Cardan hadreturned to Milan; and, before the publication of the _GeniturarumExempla_ in 1554, the author added to the King's horoscope a supplementarynote, explaining his conduct thereanent and shedding some light upon thetortuous and sinister intrigues which at that time engaged the ingenuityof the leaders about the English Court. Now that he was safe from theconsequences of giving offence, he wrote in terms much less guarded as tothe state of English affairs. It must be admitted that his calculations asto the King's length of days, published after death, have no special valueas calculations; but his impressions of the probable drift of events inEngland are interesting as the view of a foreigner upon English politics, and moreover they exhibit in strong light the sinister designs ofNorthumberland. Cardan records his belief that, in the fourth month of hisfifteenth year, the King had been in peril of his life from the plottingsof those immediately about him. On one occasion a particular dispositionof the sun and Mars denoted that he was in danger of plots woven by awicked minister, nay, there were threatenings even of poison. [156] He doesnot shrink from affirming that this unfortunate boy met his death by thetreachery of those about him. As an apology for the horoscope he drewwhen he was in England, he lays down the principle that it is inexpedientto give opinions as to the duration of life in dealing with the horoscopesof those in feeble health, unless you shall beforehand consult all thedirections and processes and ingresses of the ruling planets, "and if Ihad not made this reservation in the prognostic I gave to the Englishcourtiers, they might justly have found fault with me. "

He next remarks that he had spent much time in framing thishoroscope--albeit it was imperfect--according to his usual practice, andthat if he had gone on somewhat farther, and consulted the direction ofthe sun and moon, the danger of death in which the King stood wouldstraightway have manifested itself. If he had still been distrustful as tothe directions aforesaid, and had gone on to observe the processes andingresses, the danger would have been made clear, but even then he wouldnot have dared to predict an early death to one in such high position: hefeared the treacheries and tumults and the transfer of power which mustensue, and drew a picture of all the evils which might befall himself, evils which he was in no mood to face. Where should he look for protectionamongst a strange people, who had little mercy upon one another and wouldhave still less for him, a foreigner, with their ruler a mere boy, whocould protect neither himself nor his guest? It might easily come aboutthat his return to Italy would be hindered; and, supposing the crisis tocome to the most favourable issue, what would he get in return for allthis danger and anxiety? He calls to mind the cases of two soothsayers whowere foolish enough to predict the deaths of princes, Ascletarion, and acertain priest, who foretold the deaths of Domitian and Galeazzo Sforza;and describes their fate, which was one he did not desire to call downupon himself. Although his forecast as to Edward's future was incompleteand unsatisfactory, he foresaw what was coming upon the kingdom from thefact that all the powers thereof, the strong places, the treasury, thelegislature, and the fleet, were gathered into the hands of one man(Northumberland). "And this man, forsooth, was one whose father[157] theKing's father had beheaded; one who had plunged into confusion all theaffairs of the realm; seeing that he had brought to the scaffold, oneafter the other, the two maternal uncles of the King. Wherefore he wasdriven on both by his evil disposition and by his dread of the future toconspire against his sovereign's life. Now in such a season as this, whenall men held their tongues for fear (for he brought to trial whomsoever hewould), when he had gained over the greater part of the nobles to his sideby dividing amongst them the spoil of the Church; when he, the most bitterfoe of the King's title and dignity, had so contrived that his own willwas supreme in the business of the State, I became weary of the wholeaffair; and, being filled with pity for the young King, proved to be abetter prophet on the score of my inborn common-sense, than through myskill in Astrology. I took my departure straightway, conscious of someevil hovering anigh, and full of tears. "[158]

The above is Cardan's view of the machinations of the statesmen in highplaces in the English Court during the last months of Edward's life. Judged by the subsequent action of Northumberland it is in the maincorrect; and, taking into consideration his associations and environmentduring his stay in London, this view bears evident traces of independentjudgment. Sir John Cheke, the King's former preceptor, and afterwardsProfessor of Greek at Cambridge, had received him with all the courtesydue to a fellow-scholar, and probably introduced him at Court. Cheke was aChamberlain of the Exchequer, and just about this time was appointed Clerkto the Privy Council, wherefore he must have been fully acquainted withthe aims and methods of the opposing factions about the Court. Hisfellow-clerk, Cecil, was openly opposed to Northumberland's designs, andprudently advanced a plea of ill health to excuse his absence from hisduties: but Cheke at this time was an avowed partisan of the Duke, and ofthe policy which professed to secure the ascendency of the anti-Papalparty. Cardan, living in daily intercourse with Cheke, might reasonablyhave taken up the point of view of his kind and genial friend; but no, --heevidently rated Northumberland, from beginning to end, as a knave and atraitor, and a murderer at least in will. 

When he quitted England in the autumn of 1552 Cardan did not shake himselfentirely free from English associations. In an ill-starred moment hedetermined to take back to Italy with him an English boy. [159] He waswindbound for several days at Dover, and the man with whom he lodged seemsto have offered to let him take his son, named William, aged twelve years, back to Italy. Cardan was pleased with the boy's manner and appearance, and at once consented; but the adventure proved a disastrous one. The boyand his new protector could not exchange a word, and only managed to makeeach other understand by signs, and that very imperfectly. The boy wasresolute to go on while Cardan wanted to be rid of him; but his consciencewould not allow him to send him home unless he should, of his own freewill, ask to be sent, and by way of giving William a distaste for the lifehe had chosen, he records that he often beat him cruelly on the slightestpretext. But the boy was not to be shaken off. He persisted in followinghis venture to the end, and arrived in Cardan's train at Milan, where hewas allowed to go his own way. The only care for his training Cardan tookwas to have him taught music. He chides the unhappy boy for hisindifference to learning and for his love of the company of other youths. What with his literary work and the family troubles which so soon fellupon him, Cardan's hands were certainly full; but, all allowance beingmade, it is difficult to find a valid excuse for this neglect on his part. William grew up to be a young man, and was finally apprenticed to a tailorat Pavia, but his knavish master set him to work as a vinedresser, suspecting that Cardan cared little what happened so long as the young manwas kept out of his sight. William seems to have been a merry, good-tempered fellow; but his life was a short one, for he took fever, anddied in his twenty-second year. [160]

Besides chronicling this strange and somewhat pathetic incident, Cardansets down in the _Dialogus de Morte_ his general impressions of theEnglish people. Alluding to the fear of death, he remarks that theEnglish, so far as he has observed, were scarcely at all affected by it, and he commends their wisdom, seeing that death is the last ill we have tosuffer, and is, moreover, inevitable. "And if an Englishman views his owndeath with composure, he is even less disturbed over that of a friend orkinsman: he will look forward to re-union in a future state ofimmortality. People like these, who stand up thus readily to face deathand mourn not over their nearest ones, surely deserve sympathy, and thisboy (William) was sprung from the same race. In stature the Englishresemble Italians, they are fairer in complexion, less ruddy, and broad inthe chest. There are some very tall men amongst them: they are gentle inmanner and friendly to travellers, but easily angered, and in this caseare much to be dreaded. They are brave in battle, but wanting in caution;great eaters and drinkers, but in this respect the Germans exceed them, and they are prone rather than prompt to lust. Some amongst them aredistinguished in talent, and of these Scotus and Suisset[161] may be givenas examples. They dress like Italians, and are always fain to declare thatthey are more nearly allied to us than to any others, wherefore they tryspecially to imitate us in habit and manners as closely as they can. Theyare trustworthy, freehanded, and ambitious; but in speaking of bravery, nothing can be more marvellous than the conduct of the Highland Scots, who are wont to take with them, when they are led to execution, oneplaying upon the pipes, who, as often as not, is condemned likewise, andthus he leads the train dancing to death. " Like as the English were toItalians in other respects, Cardan was struck with the difference betweenthe two nations as soon as the islanders opened their mouths to speak. Hecould not understand a single word, but stood amazed, deeming them to beItalians who had lost their wits. "The tongue is curved upon the palate;they turn about their words in the mouth, and make a hissing sound withtheir teeth. " He then goes on to say that all the time of his absence hismind was full of thoughts of his own people in Italy, wherefore he soughtleave to return at once. 

FOOTNOTES:

[146] _Scotichronicon_, vol. I. P. 286 [ed. G. F. S. Gordon, Glasgow, 1867]. Naudé, in his _Apologie pour les grands hommes soupçonnez_ deMagie, writes: "Ceux qui recherchoiant les Mathématiques et les Sciencesles moins communes étoient soupçonnez d'être enchanteurs etMagiciens. "--p. 15. 

[147] "Curam agebat Medicus ex constituto Medicorum Lutetianorum. "--_DeVita Propria_, ch. Xl. P. 137. Cardan makes no direct mention of any otherphysician in Scotland besides Cassanate; but the Archbishop wouldcertainly have a body physician in attendance during Cassanate's absence. 

[148] "Per totam tunicam sicut in linteis. "--_Opera_, tom. Ix. P. 128. 

[149] "Accipe testudinem maximam et illam incoque in aqua, donecdissolvatur, deinde abjectis corticibus accipiantur caro, et ossa etviscera omnia mundata. "--_Opera_, tom. Ix. P. 140. 

[150] Another piece of advice runs as follows: "De venere certe non estbona, neque utilis, ubi tamen contingat necessitas, debet uti ea interduos somnos, scilicet post mediam noctem, et melius est exercere eam terin sex diebus pro exemplo ut singulis duobus diebus semel, quam bis in unadie, etiam quod staret per decem dies. "--_Opera_, tom. Ix. P. 135. 

[151] "Interim autem concurrebant multi, imo pené totanobilitas. "--_Opera_, tom. L. P. 93. 

[152] _Scotichronicon_, vol. I. P. 234. Larrey in his _History of England_seems to have given currency to the legend that Cardan foretold theArchbishop's death. "S'il en faut croire ce que l'Histoire nous dit de cefameux Astrologe, il donna une terrible preuve de sa science àl'Archevêque qu'il avoit gueri, lorsque prenait congé de lire, il lui tintce discours: 'Qu'il avoit bien pu le guerir de sa maladie; mais qu'iln'étoit pas en son pouvoir de changer sa destinée, ni d'empêcher qu'il nefût pendu. '"--Larrey, _Hist. D'Angleterre_, vol. Ii. P. 711. 

[153] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxii. P. 101. 

[154] "Scotic[u=] nomen antea horruer[a=], eorum exemplo qui priuscoeperunt odisse quam cognoscere. Nunc cum ipsa gens per se humanissimasit atque supra existimationem civilis, tu tamen tantum illi addisornamenti, ut longe nomine tuo jam nobilior evadat. "--_De AstrorumJudiciis_, p. 3. 

[155] Cardan evidently carried the MS. With him, for he writes (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 72): "Hoc fuit quod Regi Angliæ Edoardo sexto admodumadolescenti dum redirem a Scotia ostendi. "

[156] "Cumque ibi esset nodus eti[a=] venenum, quod utin[a=]abfuerit. "--_Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 411. 

[157] Edmund Dudley, the infamous minister of Henry VII. 

[158] _Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 412. 

[159] In the prologue to _Dialogus de Morte_, Opera, tom. I. P. 673, hegives a full account of this transaction. Of the boy himself he writes:"hospes ostendit mihi filium nomine Guglielmum, ætatis annorum duodecim, probum, scitulum, et parentibus obsequentem. Avus paternus nomineGregorius adhuc vivebat, et erat Ligur: pater Laurentius, familia nobiliCataneorum. "

[160] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 119. Cardan here calls him "Gulielmus _Lataneus_Anglus adolescens mihi charissimus. " In the _De Morte_, however, he speaksof him as "ex familia Cataneorum" (see last page). 

[161] Cardan writes (_De Subtilitate_, p. 444) that Suisset [RichardSwineshead], who lived about 1350, was known as the Calculator; butKästner [_Gesch. Der Math. _ I. 50] maintains that the title Calculatorshould be applied to the book rather than to the author, and hints thatthis misapprehension on Cardan's part shows that he knew of Suisset onlyby hearsay. The title of the copy of Suisset in the British Museum stands"Subtilissimi Doctoris Anglici Suiset. Calculationes Liber, " Padue [1485]. Brunet gives one, "Opus aureum calculationum, " Pavia, 1498. 

CHAPTER VIII

CARDAN travelled southward by way of the Low Countries. He stayed somedays at Antwerp, and during his visit he was pressed urgently to remain inthe city and practise his art. A less pleasant experience was a fall intoa ditch when he was coming out of a goldsmith's shop. He was cut andbruised about the left ear, but the damage was only skin-deep. He went onby Brussels and Cologne to Basel, where he once more tarried several days. He had a narrow escape here of falling into danger, for, had he not beenforewarned by Guglielmo Gratarolo, a friend, he would have taken up hisquarters in a house infected by the plague. He was received as a guest byCarlo Affaidato, a learned astronomer and physicist, who, on the day ofdeparture, made him accept a valuable mule, worth a hundred crowns. Another generous offer of a similar kind was made to him shortlyafterwards by a Genoese gentleman of the family of Ezzolino, who fell inwith him accidentally on the road. This was the gift of a very fine horse(of the sort which the English call Obinum), but, greatly as Cardandesired to have the horse, his sense of propriety kept him back fromaccepting this gift. [162]

He went next to Besançon, where he was received by Franciscus Bonvalutus, a scholar of some note, and then by Berne to Zurich. He must have crossedthe Alps by the Splugen Pass, as Chur is named in his itinerary, and healso describes his voyage down the Lake of Como on the way to Milan, wherehe arrived on January 3, 1553. Cardan was a famous physician when he setout on his northward journey; but now on his return he stood firmly placedby the events of the last few months at the head of his profession. Writing of the material results of his mission to Scotland, he declaresthat he is ashamed to set down the terms upon which he was paid, solavishly was he rewarded for his services. The offers made to him by somany exalted personages to secure his permanent and exclusive attentionwould indeed have turned the heads of most men. There was the offer fromthe King of Denmark; another, in 1552, from the King of France at a salaryof thirteen hundred crowns a year; and yet another made by the agents ofCharles V. , who was then engaged in his disastrous attack upon Metz. Allof them he refused: he had no inclination to share the perils of theleaguer of Metz, and his sense of loyalty forbad him to join himself tothe power which was at that time warring against his sovereign. He speaksalso of another offer made to him by the Queen of Scotland of a generoussalary if he would settle in Scotland; but the country was too remote forhis taste. There is no authority for this offer except the _De VitaPropria_, and it is there set down in terms which render it somewhatdifficult to identify the Queen aforesaid. [163]

As soon as he entered Milan, Ferrante Gonzaga, the Governor, desired tosecure his services as physician to the Duke of Mantua, his brother, offering him thirty thousand gold crowns as honorarium; but, in spite ofthe Governor's persuasions and threats, he would not accept the office. When the news had come to Paris that Cardan was about to quit Britain, forty of the most illustrious scientists of France repaired to Paris inorder to hear him expound the art of Medicine; but the disturbed state ofthe country deterred him from setting foot in France. He refers to aletter from his friend Ranconet as a testimony of the worship that waspaid to him, and goes on to say that, in his journeying through France andGermany, he fared much as Plato fared at the Olympic games. 

In a passage which Cardan wrote shortly after his return from Britain, helets it be seen that he was not ill-satisfied with the figure he then madein the world. He writes--"Therefore, since all those with whom I amintimate think well of me for my truth and probity, I can let my enviousrivals indulge themselves as they list in the shameful habit ofevil-speaking. With regard to folly, if I now utter, or ever have uttered, foolish words, let those who accuse me show their evidence. I, who wasborn poor, with a weakly body, in an age vexed almost incessantly by warsand tumults, helped on by no family influence, but forced to contendagainst the bitter opposition of the College at Milan, contrived toovercome all the plots woven against me, and open violence as well. Allthe honours which a physician can possess I either enjoy, or have refusedwhen they were offered to me. I have raised the fortunes of my family, andhave lived a blameless life. I am well known to all men of worship, and tothe whole of Europe. What I have written has been lauded; in sooth, Ihave written of so many things and at such length, that a man couldscarcely read my works if he spent his life therewith. I have taken goodcare of my domestic affairs, and by common consent I have come off victorin every contest I have tried. I have refused always to flatter the great;and over and beyond this I have often set myself in active opposition tothem. My name will be found scattered about the pages of many writers. Ishall deem my life long enough if I come in perfect health to the age offifty-six. I have been most fortunate as the discoverer of many andimportant contributions to knowledge, as well as in the practice of my artand in the results attained; so much so that if my fame in the firstinstance has raised up envy against me, it has prevailed finally, andextinguished all ill-feeling. "[164]

These words were written before the publication of the _GeniturarumExempla_ in 1554. Cardan's life for the six years which followed was busyand prosperous, but on the whole uneventful. The Archbishop of St. Andrewswrote to him according to promise at the end of two years to give anaccount of the results of his treatment. His letter is worthy of remark asshowing that he, the person most interested, was well satisfied withCardan's skill as a physician. Michael, the Archbishop's chiefchamberlain, was the bearer thereof, and as Hamilton speaks of him as"epistolam vivam, " it is probable that he bore likewise certain verbalmessages which could be more safely carried thus than in writing. Asentence in the _De Vita Propria_, [165] mixed up with the account ofHamilton's cure, seems to refer to this embassy, and to suggest thatMichael was authorized to promise Cardan a liberal salary if he wouldaccept permanent office in the Primate's household. Moreover, Hamiltonwrites somewhat querulously about Cassanate's absence abroad on a visit tohis family, a fact which would make him all the more eager to secureCardan's services. His letter runs as follows--"Two of your most welcomeletters, written some months ago, I received by the hand of an Englishmerchant; others came by the care of the Lord Bishop of Dunkeld, togetherwith the Indian balsam. The last were from Scoto, who sent at the sametime your most scholarly comments on that difficult work of Ptolemy. [166]To all that you have written to me I have replied fully in three or fourletters of my own, but I know not whether, out of all I have written, anyletter of mine has reached you. But now I have directed that a servant ofmine, who is known to you, and who is travelling to Rome, shall wait uponyou and salute you in my name, and bear to you my gratitude, not only forthe various gifts I have received from you, but likewise because my healthis well-nigh restored, the ailment which vexed me is driven away, mystrength increased, and my life renewed. Wherefore I rate myself debtorfor all these benefits, as well as this very body of mine. For, from thetime when I began to take these medicines of yours, selected andcompounded with so great skill, my complaint has afflicted me lessfrequently and severely; indeed, now, as a rule, I am not troubledtherewith more than once a month; sometimes I escape for two months. "[167]

In the following year (1555) Cardan's daughter Chiara, who seems to havebeen a virtuous and well-conducted girl, was married to Bartolomeo Sacco, a young Milanese gentleman of good family, a match which proved to befortunate. Cardan had now reached that summit of fame against which theshafts of jealousy will always be directed. The literary manners of theage certainly lacked urbanity, and of all living controversialists therewas none more truculent than Julius Cæsar Scaliger, who had begun hiscareer as a man of letters by a fierce assault upon Erasmus with regard tohis _Ciceronianus_, a leading case amongst the quarrels of authors. Erasmus he had attacked for venturing to throw doubts upon the suitabilityof Cicero's Latin as a vehicle of modern thought; this quarrel was over aquestion of form; and now Scaliger went a step farther, and, albeit heknew little of the subject in hand, published a book of _EsotericExercitations_ to show that the _De Subtilitate_ of Cardan was nothing buta tissue of nonsense. [168] The book was written with all the heavy-handedbrutality he was accustomed to use, but it did no hurt to Cardan'sreputation, and, irritable as he was by nature, it failed to provoke himto make an immediate rejoinder, a delay which was the cause of one of themost diverting incidents in the whole range of literary warfare. 

Scaliger sat in his study, eagerly expecting a reply, but Cardan took nonotice of the attack. Then one day some tale-bearer, moved either by thespirit of tittle-tattle or the love of mischief, brought to Julius Cæsarthe news that Jerome Cardan had sunk under his tremendous battery ofabuse, and was dead. It is but bare charity to assume that Scaliger wastouched by some stings of regret when he heard what had been the fatalresult of his onslaught; still there can be little doubt that his mind wasfilled with a certain satisfaction when he reflected that he was in sootha terrible assailant, and that his fist was heavier than any other man's. In any case, he felt that it behoved him to make some sign, wherefore hesat down and penned a funeral oration over his supposed victim, which isworth giving at length. [169]

"At this season, when fate has dealt with me in a fashion so wretched anduntoward that it has connected my name with a cruel public calamity, whena literary essay of mine, well known to the world, and undertaken at thecall of duty, has ensued in dire misfortune, it seems to me that I ambound to bequeath to posterity a testimony that, sharp as may have beenthe vexation brought upon Jerome Cardan by my trifling censures, the griefwhich now afflicts me on account of his death is ten times sharper. For, even if Cardan living should have been a terror to me, I, who am but asingle unit in the republic of letters, ought to have postponed my own andsingular convenience to the common good, seeing how excellent were themerits of this man, in every sort of learning. For now the republic isbereft of a great and incomparable scholar, and must needs suffer a losswhich, peradventure, none of the centuries to come will repair. Whatthough I am a person of small account, I could count upon him as asupporter, a judge, and (immortal gods) even a laudator of mylucubrations; for he was so greatly impressed by their weighty merits, that he deemed he would best defend himself by avoiding all comment on thesame, despairing of his own strength, and knowing not how great his powersreally were. In this respect he was so skilful a master, that he couldassuredly have fathomed the depths of every method and every device usedagainst him, and would thereby have made his castigation of myself toserve as an augmentation of his own fame. He, in sooth, was a man of suchquality that, if he had deemed it a thing demanded of him by equity, hewould never have hesitated to point out to other students the truth ofthose words which I had written against him as an accusation, while, onthe other hand, this same constancy of mind would have made him adhere tothe opinions he might have put forth in the first instance, so far asthese opinions were capable of proof. I, when I addressed my_Exercitations_ to him during his life--to him whom I knew by commonreport to be the most ingenious and learned of mortal men--was in goodhope that I might issue from this conflict a conqueror; and is thereliving a man blind enough not to perceive that what I looked for washard-earned credit, which I should certainly have won by finding my viewsconfirmed by Cardan living, and not for inglorious peace brought about byhis death? And indeed I might have been suffered to have share in thebounty and kindliness of this illustrious man, whom I have always hearddescribed as a shrewd antagonist and one full of confidence in his ownhigh position, for it was an easy task to win from him the ordinary rightsof friendship by any trifling letter, seeing that he was the mostcourteous of mankind. It is scarcely likely that I, weary as I was, onewho in fighting had long been used to perils of all sorts, should thuscast aside my courage; that I, worn out by incessant controversies andconsumed by the daily wear and tear of writing, should care for aninglorious match with so distinguished an antagonist; or that I shouldhave set my heart upon winning a bare victory in the midst of all thisdust and tumult. For not only was the result which has ensued unlooked forin the nature of things and in the opinion of all men qualified to judgein such a case; it was also the last thing I could have desired to happen, for the sake of my good name. My judgment has ever been that all men (forin sooth all of us are, so to speak, little less than nothing) may so losetheir heads in controversy that they may actually fight against their owninterests. And if such a mischance as this may happen to any man ofeminence--as has been my case, and the case of divers others I couldrecall--it shall not be written down in the list of his errors, unless inaftertimes he shall seek to justify the same. It is necessary to advanceroughness in the place of refinement, and stubborn tenacity forsteadfastness. No man can be pronounced guilty of offence on the score ofsome hasty word or other which may escape his lips; such a charge shouldrather be made when he defends himself by unworthy methods. Therefore ifCardan during his life, being well advised in the matter, should have keptsilent over my attempts to correct him, what could have brought me greatercredit than this? He would have bowed to my opinion in seemly fashion, andwould have taken my censures as those of a father or a preceptor. Butsupposing that he had ventured to engage in a sharper controversy with meover this question, is there any one living who would fail to see that hemight have gone near to lose his wits on account of the mental agitationwhich had afflicted him in the past? But as soon as his superhumanintellect had thoroughly grasped the question, it seemed to him that hemust needs be called upon to bear what was intolerable. He could not pluckup courage enough to bear it by living, so he bore it by dying. Moreover, what he might well have borne, he could not bring himself to bear, to witthat he and I should come to an agreement and should formulate certainwell-balanced decisions for the common good. For this reason I lamentdeeply my share in this affair, I who had most obvious reasons forengaging in this conflict, and the clearest ones for inventing a story asto the victory I hoped to gain; reasons which a man of sober temper couldnever anticipate, which a brave man would never desire. 

"Cardan's fame has its surest foundation in the praise of his adversaries. I lament greatly this misfortune of our republic: the causes of which theparliament of lettered men may estimate by its particular rules, but itcannot rate this calamity in relation to the excellences of thisillustrious personality. For in a man of learning three properties oughtto stand out pre-eminently--a spotless and gentle rule of life; manifoldand varied learning; and consummate talent joined to the shrewdestcapacity for forming a judgment. These three points Cardan attained socompletely that he seemed to have been made entirely for himself, and atthe same time to have been the only mortal made for mankind at large. Noone could be more courteous to his inferiors or more ready to discuss thescheme of the universe with any man of mark with whom he might chance toforegather. He was a man of kingly courtesy, of sympathetic loftiness ofmind, one fitted for all places, for all occasions, for all men and forall fortunes. In reference to learning itself, I beg you to look aroundupon the accomplished circle of the learned now living on the earth, inthis most fortunate age of ours; here the combination of individual talentshows us a crowd of illustrious men, but each one of these displayshimself as occupied with some special portion of Philosophy. But Cardan, in addition to his profound knowledge of the secrets of God and Nature, was a consummate master of the humaner letters, and was wont to expoundthe same with such eloquence that those who listened to him would havebeen justified in affirming that he could have studied nothing else allhis life. A great man indeed! Great if he could lay claim to no otherexcellence than this; and forsooth, when we come to consider the quicknessof his wit, his fiery energy in everything he undertook, whether of theleast or the greatest moment, his laborious diligence and unconquerablesteadfastness, I affirm that the man who shall venture to compare himselfwith Cardan may well be regarded as one lacking in all due modesty. Iforsooth feel no hostility towards one whose path never crossed mine, norenvy of one whose shadow never touched mine; the numerous and weightyquestions dealt with in his monumental work urged me on to undertake thetask of gaining some knowledge of the same. After the completion of theCommentaries on Subtlety, he published as a kind of appendix to these thatmost learned work the _De Rerum Varietate_. And in this case, before newswas brought to me of his death, I followed my customary practice, and inthe course of three days compiled an Excursus in short chapters. When Iheard that he was dead I brought them together into one little book, inorder that I also might lend a hand in this great work of his, and thisthing I did after a fashion which he himself would have approved, supposing that at some time or other he might have held discourse with me, or with some other yet more learned man, concerning his affairs. "[170]

It is a matter of regret that this cry of _peccavi_ was not published tillall the chief literary contemporaries of Scaliger were in their graves. Asit did not appear till 1621, the men of his own time were not able toenjoy the shout of laughter over his discomfiture which would surely havegone up from Paris and Strasburg and Basel and Zurich. Estienne andGessner would hardly have felt acute sorrow at a flout put upon JuliusCæsar Scaliger. Crooked-tempered as he was, Cardan, compared withScaliger, was as a rose to a thistle, but there were reasons altogetherunconnected with the personalities of the disputants which swayed thebalance to Cardan's advantage. The greater part of Scaliger's criticismwas worthless, and the opinion of learned Europe weighed overwhelmingly onCardan's side. Thuanus, [171] who assuredly did not love him, and Naudé, who positively disliked him, subsequently gave testimony in his favour. Hedid not follow the example of Erasmus, and let Scaliger's abuse go by insilence, but he took the next wisest course. He published a short anddignified reply, _Actio prima in Calumniatorem_, in which, fromtitle-page to colophon, Scaliger's name never once occurs. The gist ofthe book may best be understood by quoting an extract from the criticismof Cardan by Naudé prefixed to the _De Vita Propria_. He writes: "Thisproposition of mine will best be comprehended by the man who shall set towork to compare Cardan with Julius Cæsar Scaliger, his rival, and a manendowed with an intellect almost superhuman. For Scaliger, although hecame upon the stage with greater pomp and display, and brought with him amind filled with daring speculation, and adequate to the highest flights, kept closely behind the lattices of the humaner letters and of medicalphilosophy, leaving to Cardan full liberty to occupy whatever ground ofargument he might find most advantageous in any other of the fields oflearning. Moreover, if any one shall give daily study to these celebrated_Exercitations_, he will find therein nothing to show that Cardan isbranded by any mark of shame which may not be removed with the slightesttrouble, if the task be undertaken in a spirit of justice. For, in thefirst place, who can maintain that Scaliger was justified in publishinghis _Exercitations_ three years after the issue of the second edition ofthe _Libri de Subtilitate_, without ever having taken the trouble to readthis edition, and without exempting from censure the errors which Cardanhad diligently expunged from his book in the course of his latestrevision, lest he (Scaliger) should find that all the mighty labourexpended over his criticisms had been spent in vain? Besides, who does notknow that Cardan, in his _Actio prima in Calumniatorem_, blunted the pointof all his assailant's weapons, swept away all his objections, and brokein pieces all his accusations, in such wise that the very reason of theirexistence ceased to be? Cardan, in sooth, was a true man, and held allhumanity as akin to him. There is small reason why we should marvel thathe erred now and again; it is a marvel much greater that he should onlyhave gone astray so seldom and in things of such trifling moment. Indeed Iwill dare to affirm, and back my opinion with a pledge, that the errorswhich Scaliger left behind him in these _Exercitations_ were more innumber than those which he so wantonly laid to Cardan's charge, havingsweated nine years over the task. And this he did not so much in theinterests of true erudition as with the desire of coming to blows with allthose whom he recognized as the chiefs of learning. "

During the whole dispute Cardan kept his temper admirably. Scaliger was aphysician of repute; and it is not improbable that the spectacle ofCardan's triumphal progress back to Milan from the North may have arousedhis jealousy and stimulated him to make his ill-judged attack. But even onthe ground of medical science he was no match for Cardan, while inmathematics and philosophy he was immeasurably inferior. Cardan feltprobably that the attack was nothing more than the buzzing of a gadfly, and that in any case it would make for his own advantage and credit, wherefore he saw no reason why he should disquiet himself; indeed hisattitude of dignified indifference was admirably calculated to win for himthe approval of the learned world by the contrast it furnished to theraging fury of his adversary. [172]

After the heavy labour of editing and issuing to the world the _De RerumVarietate_, and of re-editing the first issue of the _De Subtilitate_, Cardan might well have given himself a term of rest, but to a man of histemper, idleness, or even a relaxation of the strain, is usually irksome. The _De Varietate_ was first printed at Basel in 1553, and, as soon as itwas out of the press, it brought a trouble--not indeed a very seriousone--upon the author. The printer, Petrus of Basel (who must not beconfused with Petreius of Nuremberg) took it upon him to add to ChapterLXXX of the work some disparaging remarks about the Dominicanbrotherhoods, making Cardan responsible for the assertion that they wererapacious wolves who hunted down reputed witches and despisers of God, notbecause of their offences, but because they chanced to be the possessorsof much wealth. Cardan remonstrated at once--he always made it hispractice to keep free from all theological wrangling, --but Petrus treatedthe whole question with ridicule, [173] and it does not seem that Cardancould have had any very strong feeling in the matter, for the obnoxiouspassage is retained in the editions of 1556 and 1557. The religiousauthorities were however fully justified in assuming that the presence ofsuch a passage in the pages of a book so widely popular as the _DeVarietate_ would necessarily prove a cause of scandal, and give cause tothe enemy to blaspheme. For Reginald Scot, in the eighth chapter of_Discoverie of Witchcraft_, alludes to the passage in question in thefollowing terms: "Cardanus writeth that the cause of such credulitieconsisteth in three points: to wit in the imagination of the melancholike, in the constancie of them that are corrupt therewith, and in the deceiptof the Judges; who being inquisitors themselves against heretikes andwitches, did both accuse and condemne them, having for their labour thespoile of their goods. So as these inquisitors added many fables hereunto, least they should seeme to have doone injurie to the poore wretches, incondemning and executing them for none offense. But sithens (said he) thespringing up of Luther's sect, these priests have tended more diligentlieupon the execution of them; bicause more wealth is to be caught from them;insomuch as now they deale so looselie with witches (through distrust ofgaines) that all is seene to be malice, follie, or avarice that hath beenepractised against them. And whosoever shall search into this cause, orread the cheefe writers hereupon, shall find his words true. "

In 1554 Cardan published also with Petrus of Basel the _Ptolemæi deastrorum judiciis_ with the _Geniturarum Exempla_, bound in one volume, but he seems to have written nothing but a book of fables for the young, concerning which he subsequently remarks that, in his opinion, grown menmight read the same with advantage. It is a matter of regret that thiswork should have disappeared, for it would have been interesting to notehow far Cardan's intellect, acute and many-sided as it was, was capable ofdealing with the literature of allegory and imagination. He has set downone fact concerning it, to wit that it contained "multa de futurisarcana. " The next year he produced only a few medical trifles, but in 1557he brought out two other scientific works which he characterizes asadmirable--one the _Ars parva curandi_, and the other a treatise _DeUrinis_. In the same year he published the book which, in forming ajudgment of him as a man and a writer, is perhaps as valuable as the _DeVita Propria_ and the _De Utilitate_, to wit the _De Libriis Propriis_. This work exists in three forms: the first, a short treatise, "cui titulusest ephemerus, " is dedicated to "Hieronymum Cardanum medicum, affinemsuum, " and has the date of 1543. The second has the date of 1554, and, according to Naudé, was first published "apud Gulielmum Rovillium subscuto Veneto, Lugduni, 1557. " The third was begun in 1560, [174] andcontains comments written in subsequent years. The first is of slightinterest, the second is a sort of register of his works, amplified fromyear to year, while the third has more the form of a treatise, andpresents with some degree of symmetry the crude materials contained in thefirst. Having finished with his writings up to the year 1564, Cardanlapses into a philosophizing strain, and opens his discourse with theominous words, "Sed jam ad institutum revertamur, déque ipso vitæ humanægenere aliquo dicamus. " He begins with a disquisition on the worthlessnessof life, and repeats somewhat tediously the story of his visit toScotland. He gives a synopsis of all the sciences he had everstudied--Theology, Dialectics, Arithmetic, Music, Optics, Astronomy, Astrology, Geometry, Chiromancy, Agriculture, Medicine, passing on totreat of Magic, portents and warnings, and of his own experience of thesame at the crucial moments of his life. He ends by a reference to anincident already chronicled in the _De Vita Propria_, [175] how he escapeddeath or injury from a falling mass of masonry by crossing the street inobedience to an impulse he could not explain, and speculates why God, whowas able to save him on this occasion with so little trouble, should havelet him rush on and court the overwhelming stroke which ultimately laidhim low. 

FOOTNOTES:

[162] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxii. P. 100. 

[163] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Iv. P. 16: "cum Scotorum Regina cujus levirumcuraveram. " Cardan had probably prescribed for a brother of the Duc deLongueville, the first husband of Mary of Guise, during his sojourn inParis. 

[164] _Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 459. 

[165] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xl. P. 137. 

[166] _Commentaria in Ptolemæi de Astrorum Judiciis_ (Basil, 1554). Hewrote these notes while going down the Loire in company with Cassanate onhis way from Lyons to Paris in 1552. --_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xlv. P. 175. 

He gives an interesting account (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 110) as to how thebook first came under his notice. The day before he quitted Lyons withCassanate, a school-master came to ask for advice, which Cardan gavegratis. Then the patient, knowing perhaps the physician's taste for themarvellous, related how there was a certain boy in the place who could seespirits by looking into an earthen vessel, but Cardan was little impressedby what he saw, and began to talk with the school-master about Archimedes. The school-master brought out a work of the Greek philosopher with whichwas bound up the _Ptolemæi Libri de Judiciis_. Cardan fastened upon it atonce, and wanted to buy it, but the school-master insisted that he shouldtake it as a gift. He declares that his Commentaries thereupon are themost perfect of all his writings. The book contains his famous Nativity ofChrist. A remark in _De Libris Propriis_ (cf. _Opera_, tom. I. P. 67)indicates that there was an earlier edition of Ptolemy, printed at Milanat Cardan's own cost, because when he saw the numerous mistakes made byOttaviano Scoto in printing the _De Malo Medendi_ and the _DeConsolatione_, he determined to go to another printer. 

[167] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 93. 

[168] Cardan notices the attack in these words--"His diebus quidamconscripserat adversus nostrum de Subtilitate librum, Opus ingens. Adversus quem ego Apologiam scripsi. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 117. Scaligerabsurdly calls his work the _fifteenth_ book of _Exercitations_, andwished the world to believe that he had written, though not printed, thefourteen others. 

[169] It was not printed until many years after the deaths of bothdisputants, and appeared for the first time in a volume of Scaliger'sletters and speeches published at Toulouse in 1621, and it was afterwardsaffixed to the _De Vita Propria_. 

[170] "Si Scaliger avoit eu un peu moins de démangeaison de contre dire, il auroit acquis plus de gloire, qu'il n'a fait dans ce combat: mais, ceque les Grecs ont apellé [Greek: ametria tês antholkês], une passionexcessive de prendre le contrepied des autres, a fait grand tort àScaliger. C'est par ce principe qu'il a soutenu que le perroquet est unetrès laide bête. Si Cardan l'eût dit, Scaliger lui eût opposé ce qu'ontrouve dans les anciens Poètes touchant la beauté de cet oiseau. Vossius afait une Critique très judicieuse de cette humeur contrariante deScaliger, et a marqué en même temps en quoi ces deux Antagonistes étoientsupérieurs et inférieures, l'un à l'autre. "--(Scaliger, in _Exercitat. , _246. ) "Quia Cardanus psittacum commendarat a colorum varietate ac prætereafulgore, quod et Appuleius facit in secundo Floridorum, contra contenditesse deformem, non modo ob foeditatem rostri, ac crurum, et linguæ, sedetiam quia sit coloris fusci ac cinericii, qui tristis. Quid faciamussummo Viro? Si Cardanus ea dixisset, provocasset ad judicia poëtarum, atque adeo omnium hominum. Nunc quia pulchri dixit coloris, ille deformiscontendit. Hoc contradictionis studium, quod ubique in hisceexercitationibus se prodit, sophista dignius est, quamquephilosopho. "--Bayle: Article "Cardan. " (Sir Thomas Browne, in one of hisCommonplace Books, observes--"If Cardan saith a parrot is a beautifulbird, Scaliger will set his wits on work to prove it a deformed animal. ")

Naudé (_Apologie_, ch. Xiii. ) says that of the great men of modern timesScaliger and Cardan each claimed the possession of a guardian spirit, andhints that Scaliger may have been moved to make this claim in order not tobe outdone by his great antagonist. It should, however, be remembered thatCardan did not seriously assert this belief till long after hiscontroversy with Scaliger. Naudé sums up thus: "D'où l'on peut jugerasseurement, que lui et Scaliger n'ont point eu d'autre Genie que lagrande doctrine qu'ils s'étoient acquis par leurs veilles, par leurstravaux, et par l'expérience qu'ils avoient des choses sur lesquellesvenant à élever leur jugement ils jugeoint pertinemment de toutesmatières, et ne laissoient rien échapper qui ne leur fust conneu etmanifeste. "

[171] Thuanus, ad Annum MDLXXVI, part of the Appendix to the _De VitaPropria_. 

[172] Cardan does not seem to have harboured animosity against Scaliger. In the _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xlviii. P. 198, he writes: "Julius CæsarScaliger plures mihi titulos ascribit, quam ego mihi concedi postulassem, appellans _ingenium profundissimum, felicissimum, et incomparabile_. "

[173] "Quid tua interest quod quatuor verba adjecerim? an hoc tantumcrimen est! quid facerem absens absenti?" Cardan writes on in meditativestrain: "Coeterum cum non ignorem maculatos fuisse codices B. Hieronimi, atque aliorum patrum nostrorum, ab his qui aliter sentiebant, erroremquesuum auctoritate viri tegere voluerunt: ut ne quis in nostris operibushallucinetur vel ab aliis decipiatur, sciant omnes me nullibi Theologumagere, nec velle in alienam messem falcem ponere. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 112. 

Johannes Wierus, one of the first rationalists on the subject ofwitchcraft, has quoted largely from Chapter LXXX of _De Varietate_ in hisbook _De Præstigiis Dæmonum_, in urging his case against the orthodoxview. 

[174] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 96. "Annus hic est Salutis millesimusquingentesimus ac sexagesimus. "

[175] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxx. P. 78. 

CHAPTER IX

THE year 1555 may be held to mark the point of time at which Cardanreached the highest point of his fortunes. After a long and bitterstruggle with an adverse world he had come out a conqueror, and his riseto fame and opulence, if somewhat slow, had been steady and secure. Helonged for wealth, not that he might figure as a rich man, but so that hemight win the golden independence which permits a student to prosecute thetask which seems to subserve the highest purposes of true learning, andfrees him from the irksome battle for daily bread. He loved, indeed, tospend money over beautiful things, and there are few more attractivetouches in the picture he draws of himself than the confession of hispassion for costly penholders, gems, rare books, vessels of brass andsilver, and painted spheres. [176] In this brief season of ease andsecurity, there were no flaming portents in the sky to foretell the cruelstroke of evil fortune which was destined so soon to fall upon him. 

Cardan has left a very pathetic sketch of his own miserable boyhood in thestrangely ordered home in Milan, with his callous, tyrannical father, hisquick-tempered mother, and the superadded torment of his Aunt Margaret'spresence. Fazio Cardano was a man of rigorous sobriety, and he seemsmoreover to have atoned for his early irregularities by the practice ofthat austere piety which Jerome notices more than once as a characteristicof his old age. [177] The discipline was hard, and the life unlovely, butthe home was at least decent and orderly, and no opportunities orprovocations to loose manners or ill doing existed therein. In Cardan'sown case it is to be feared that, after Lucia's death, the affairs of hishousehold fell into dire confusion, in spite of the presence of hismother-in-law, Thadea, who had come to him as housekeeper--her husband, Altobello, having died soon after the marriage of his daughter withCardan. He was an ardent lover of music, and, as a consequence, his housewould be constantly filled with singing men and boys, a tribe of somewhatsinister reputation. [178] Then, when he was not engaged with music, hewould be gambling in some fashion or other. After lamenting the vastamount of time he has wasted over the game of chess, he goes on: "But theplay with the dice, an evil far more noxious, found its way into my house;and, after my sons had learned to play the same, my doors always stoodopen to dicers. I can find no excuse for this practice except the trivialone, that, what I did, I did in the hope of relieving the poverty of mychildren. "[179] In a home of this sort, ruled by a father who wasassuredly more careful of his work in the study and class-room than of hisduties as paterfamilias, it is not wonderful that the two young men, GianBattista and Aldo, should grow up into worthless profligates. It has beenrecorded how Cardan, during a journey to Genoa, wrote a Book of Preceptsfor his children, [180] a task the memory of which afterwards wrung fromhim a cry of despair. There never was compiled a more admirable collectionof maxims; but, excellent as they were, it was not enough to write themdown on paper; and the young men, if ever they took the trouble to readthem, must have smiled as they called to mind the difference between theirfather's practices and the precepts he had composed for their guidance. Furthermore, he had written at length, in the _De Consolatione_, on thefolly which parents for the most part display in the education of theirchildren. "They show their affection in such foolish wise, that it wouldbe nearer the mark to say they hate, rather than love, their offspring. They bring them up not to follow virtue, but to occupy themselves with allmanner of hurtful things; not to learning, but to riot; not to the worshipof God, but to foster in them the desire to drain the cup of lustfulpleasure; not for the life eternal, but to the enticements oflechery. "[181]

At this time Gian Battista had gained the doctorate of medicine at Pavia, and had made his contribution to medical knowledge by the publication ofan insignificant tract, _De cibis foetidis non edendis_. Cardan wasevidently full of hope for his elder son's career, but Aldo seems to havebeen a trouble from the first. Yet, in casting Aldo's horoscope (probablyat the time of his birth) Cardan predicts for him a flourishingfuture. [182] Never was there made a worse essay in prophecy. Aldo'schildhood had been a sickly one. He had well-nigh died of convulsions, andlater on he had been troubled with dysentery, abscesses of the brain, anda fever which lasted six months. Moreover, he could not walk till he wasthree years old. With a weakly body, his nature seems to have put forthall sorts of untoward growths. There is a story which Naudé brings forwardas part of his indictment against Cardan, that the father being irritatedbeyond endurance by some ill conduct of his younger son during supper, cutoff his ear by way of punishment. It was a most barbarous act; one goingfar beyond the range of any tradition of the early _patria potestas_, which may have yet lingered in Italy; and scarcely calculated to bringabout reformation in the youth thus punished. In any case, Aldo went onfrom bad to worse; at one time his father found it necessary to place himunder restraint, and the last record of him is that one in Cardan'stestament, by which he was disinherited. 

Gian Battista's failings were doubtless grave and numerous, but he had atleast sufficient industry to qualify himself as a physician. He wascertainly his father's favourite child, and on this account the eulogieswritten of him in those dark hours when Cardan's reason was reeling underthe accumulated blows of private grief and public disgrace, must beaccepted with caution. There is no evidence to show he was in intellectanything like the budding genius his father deemed him; as to conduct andmanner of life, his carriage was exactly what the majority of youths, brought up in a similar fashion, would have adopted. There must have beensomething in the young man's humours which from the first made his fatherapprehensive as to the future, for Cardan soon came to see that an earlymarriage would be the surest safeguard for Gian Battista's future. Withhis mind bent on this scheme, he pointed out to his son various damsels ofsuitable station, any one of whom he would be ready to welcome into hisfamily, but Gian Battista always found some excuse for decliningmatrimony. He declared that he was too closely engaged with his work; and, over and beyond this, it would not be seemly to bring home a bride into ahouse like their own, full of young men, for Cardan, as usual, had severalpupils living with him. It was at the end of 1557 that the firstforebodings of misfortune appeared. To Cardan, according to custom, theycame in the form of a portent, for he records how he lay awake at midnighton December 20, and was suddenly conscious that his bed was shaking. He atonce attributed this to a shock of an earthquake, and in the morning hedemanded of the servant, Simone Sosia, who occupied the truckle bed in theroom, whether he had felt the same. Simone replied that he had, whereuponCardan, as soon as he arose, went to the piazza and asked of diverspersons he met there, whether they had also been disturbed, but no one hadfelt anything of the shock he alluded to. He went home, and while thefamily were at table, a messenger, sent, as he afterwards records, by acertain woman of the town, [183] entered the room, and told him that hisson was going to be married immediately after breakfast. Cardan asked whothe bride might be, but the messenger said he knew not, and departed. Itis not quite clear whether Gian Battista was present or not, but as soonas ever the messenger had departed, Cardan let loose an indignant outburstover his son's misconduct, reproaching him with undutiful secresy, andsetting forth how he had introduced to him four young ladies of goodfamily, of whom two were certainly enamoured of him. Any one of the fourwould have been acceptable as a daughter-in-law, but he declared that nowhe would insist upon having full information as to the antecedents of anyother bride his son might have selected, before admitting her to theshelter of his roof. Over and over again had he counselled Gian Battistathat he must on no account marry in haste, or without his advice, orwithout making sure that his income would be sufficient to support theresponsibilities of the married state; rather than this should happen, hewould willingly allow the young man to keep a mistress in the house forthe sake of offspring, for he desired beyond all else to reargrandchildren from Gian Battista, because he nursed the belief that, asthe son resembled his grandfather Fazio, so the son's children wouldresemble their grandfather--himself. When he was questioned, Gian Battistadeclared he knew nothing about the report, and was fully as astonished ashis father; but two days later Gian Battista's own servant came to thehouse, and announced that his master had been married that samemorning, [184] but that he knew not the name of the bride. Cardan nowascertained that Gian Battista's disinclination for matrimony had arisenfrom the fact that he had been amusing himself with a girl who was nothingelse than an attractive and finely-dressed harlot, named Brandonia Seroni, the last woman in all Milan whom he could with decency receive into hishouse. And the pitiful story was not yet complete. In marrying her thefoolish youth had burdened himself with her mother, two or more sisters, and three brothers, the last-named being rough fellows without any callingbut that of common soldiers. The character of the girl herself may bejudged by the answer given by her father Evangelista Seroni to Cardanduring the subsequent trial. When Seroni was asked whether he had givenhis daughter as a virgin in marriage, he answered frankly in the negative. 

Cardan at once made up his mind to shut his door upon the newly-marriedpair; but the unconquerable tenderness he felt for Gian Battista urged himon to send to the young man all the ready money he had saved. After twoyears of married life, two children, a boy and a girl, were born: husbandand wife alike were in ill health, and every day brought its domesticquarrel. In the meantime sinister whispers were heard, set going in thefirst instance by the mother and sister of Brandonia, that Gian Battistawas the father neither of the first nor of the second child. They evenwent so far as to designate the men to whom they rightly belonged, andcontrived that this rumour should come to the ears of the injured husband. The consequence of their malignant tale-bearing was a quarrel more violentthan ever, and the rise of a resolution in Gian Battista's mind to ridhimself at all hazard of the accursed burden he had bound upon hisshoulders. 

Until the end of 1559 Cardan continued to live in Milan, vexed no doubt bythe ever-present spectacle of the wretched case into which his beloved sonhad fallen. He records how the young wife, unknown to her husband, handedover to her father the wedding-ring which he (Cardan) had given to hisson, along with a piece of silken stuff, in order to pledge them formoney. This outrage, joined to the certain conviction that his wife wasfalse to him, proved a provocation beyond the limits of Gian Battista'spatience, and finally incited him to make a criminal attempt uponBrandonia's life. Hitherto he had been earnest enough in his desire to ridhimself of his wife so long as she raged against him; but, on therestoration of peace, his anger against her would vanish. Now he had lostall patience; he laid his plans advisedly, and set to work to execute themby enlisting the cooperation of the servant who had been with him eversince his marriage, and by taking to live with him in his own houseSeroni, his wife, and son and daughter. [185] It cannot be said that thewould-be murderer displayed at this juncture any of the traditionalItalian craft in setting about his deadly task. The day before the attemptwas made he took out of pawn the goods which Evangelista Seroni hadpledged, and promised his servant a gift of clothes and money if he wouldcompass the death of Brandonia, who was still ailing from the effects ofher second confinement. To this suggestion the servant, who had alsowarned Gian Battista of his wife's misconduct, at once assented. 

But even on the very day when he had fully determined to make his essay inmurder he vacillated again and again, and it seemed likely that Brandoniawould once more be reprieved. When he entered her bed-chamber, full of hisresolve to strike for freedom, he found her lying gravely ill with anattack of fever, shivering violently, and cold at the extremities. Hisanger forthwith vanished, and his hand was stayed; but as if urged on byruthless fate, the mother-in-law, and the sister, and Brandonia herself, ill as she was, attacked Gian Battista with the foulest abuse andreproaches; this was the last straw. He went out and sought his servant, and told the fellow at once to make a cake and put a poison therein. Thedate of this fatal action was some day early in 1560. 

On October 1, 1559, Cardan had left Milan, and gone back to Pavia toresume his work as professor, taking Aldo with him. He threw himself intothe discharge of his office and the life of the city with his customaryardour. Over and above his work of teaching he completed his treatise _DeSecretis_, and likewise found time to hold a long disputation on thedecisions of Galen with Andrea Camutio, one of the most illustriousphysicians of the age. Concerning this episode he writes: "In disputationI showed myself so keen of wit that all men marvelled at the instances Ibrought forward, but for a long time no one ventured to put me to theproof. Thus I escaped the trouble of any such undertaking until twoaccidents both unforeseen involved me therein. At Pavia, Branda Porro, mywhilom teacher in Philosophy, interrupted me one day when I was disputingwith Camutio[186] on some matter of Philosophy, for, as I have saidbefore, my colleagues were wont to lead me on to argue in philosophybecause they were well assured that it would be vain to try to get thebetter of me in Medicine. Now Branda began by advancing Aristotle as anauthority, whereupon I, when he brought out his citation, said, 'Takecare, you have left out the "_non_" which should stand after "_album_. "'Then Branda contradicted me, and I, spitting out the phlegm with which Iam often troubled, told him quietly that he was in the wrong. He sent forthe Codex in great rage, and when it was brought I asked that it might begiven to me. I then read out the words just as they stood; but he, as ifhe suspected that I was reading falsely, snatched the volume out of myhands, and declared that I was puting a cheat upon my hearers. When hecame to the word in dispute he held his tongue forthwith, and all theothers looked at me in amazement. "[187]

It is certain that Cardan was still vexed in mind by the trouble he hadleft behind him at Milan. If he had not forgiven Gian Battista, he wasfull of kindly thought of him. He sent him from Pavia a new silk cloak, such as physicians wear, so that he might make a better show in hiscalling, and doubtless continued his supplies of money. Just a week beforethe quarrel last recorded, Aldo, against his father's wish, left Pavia andreturned to Milan. Cardan used every argument he could bring forward tokeep his younger son with him, but in vain; and, as he was unwilling toput constraint upon him, Aldo departed. Cardan says that he was within anace of going with him, for the University was then in vacation: then thecrowning catastrophe might have been averted, but the same fate which wasdriving on the son to destruction, kept the father at Pavia. Thus ithappened that Aldo was an inmate of his brother's house when the poisonedcake was made. Cardan has written down a detailed account of theperpetration of this squalid tragedy, and no clearer presentation can begiven than the one which his own words supply. 

He writes: "Thus my son and the servant went together to make the cake, and the servant put therein secretly some of the poison which had beengiven him. After the cake had been made, a small piece was given to myson's wife, who was very ill at the time, but her stomach rejected it atonce. Her mother ate some of it, and likewise vomited after taking it. Though Gian Battista saw what happened he did not believe that the cakewas really poisoned, for two reasons. First, because he had not, in truth, ordered that the poison should be mixed therewith; and second, because hisbrother-in-law (Bartolomeo Sacco) had said to him, before the cake wasfinished, 'See that you make it big enough, for I also am minded to tasteit. ' Next he gave some to his father-in-law, who straightway vomited, andcomplained of a pricking of the tongue. He warned my son; but he, stillholding that the cake was harmless, ate thereof somewhat greedily; and, after having been sick, had to lie by for some time. On the second dayafter this Gian Battista, and his brother, and the servant as well weretaken in hold: and on the Sunday following I, having been informed of whathad happened, went to Milan in great anxiety as to what I should do. "

The news which had been brought to Cardan at Pavia told him, over andbeyond what is written above, that his son's wife was dead, poisoned asevery one believed through having eaten the cake, which had caused nauseaand pain to every one else who had tasted it. [188] The catastrophe wasaccompanied by the usual portents. Some weeks previous to the attempt GianBattista had chanced to walk out to the Porta Tonsa, clad in the smartsilk gown which his father had recently given him, and as he was passing abutcher's shop, a certain pig, one of a drove which was there, rose up outof the mud and attacked the young physician and befouled his gown. Thebutcher and his men, to whom the thing seemed portentous, drove off thehog with staves, but this they could only do after the beast had wearieditself, and after Gian Battista had gone away. Again, at the beginning ofFebruary following, while Cardan was in residence as a Professor at Pavia, he chanced to look at the palm of his hand, and there, at the root of thethird finger of the right hand, he beheld a mark like a bloody sword. Thatsame evening a messenger arrived from Milan with the news of his son'sarrest, and a letter from his son-in-law, begging him to come at once. Themark on his hand grew and grew for fifty-three days, gradually mounting upthe finger, until the last fatal day, when it extended to the tip of thefinger, and shone bright like fiery blood. The morning after GianBattista's execution the mark had almost vanished, and in a day or two nosign of it remained. 

Cardan hurried to Milan to hear from Bartolomeo Sacco, his son-in-law, thefull extent of the calamity. Probably there were few people in the citywho did not regard Gian Battista as a worthless fellow, whose death wouldbe a gain to the State and a very light loss to his immediate friends, butCardan was not of this mind. He turned his back upon his professionalengagements at Pavia, and threw himself, heart and soul, into the fightfor his son's life. He could not make up his mind as to Gian Battista'srecent conduct; if he ate of the cake, he surely could not have put inpoison himself, or directed others to do so; if, on the other hand, he hadpoisoned the cake, Cardan feared greatly that, in the simplicity of hisnature, he would assuredly let his accusers know what he had done. And hismind was greatly upset by the prodigies of which he had recently hadexperience. For some reason or other he did not visit the accused inprison, or give him any advice as to what course he should follow, a pieceof neglect which he cites as a reproach against himself afterwards; butcertain associates of Gian Battista, and his fellow-captives as well, urged him to assert his innocence, a course which Cardan recognized as theonly safe one. At the first examination the accused followed this counsel;at the second he began to waver when the servant deposed that his masterhad given him a certain powder to mix with Brandonia's food in order toincrease her flow of milk; and, later on, when confronted with the manfrom whom he had received the poison, he confessed all; and, simpleton ashe was, admitted that for two months past his mind had been set upon thedeed, and that on two previous occasions he had attempted to administer toher the noxious drug against the advice of his servant. From the firstCardan had placed his hopes of deliverance in the intervention of theMilanese Governor, the Duca di Sessa, who had not long ago consulted himas physician, [189] but the Duke refused to interfere. The intervention ofan executive officer in the procedure of a Court of Justice was no rareoccurrence at that period, and Cardan was deeply disappointed at thesqueamishness or indolence of his whilom patient. He records afterwardshow the Duke met his full share of the calamities which fell upon allthose who were concerned in Gian Battista's condemnation;[190] and in the_Dialogus Tetim_, a work which he wrote immediately after the trial, hebewails afresh the inaction of this excellent ruler and the consequentloss of his son. [191]

For twenty days and more, while Gian Battista lay in prison, Cardan, almost mad with apprehension and suspense, spent his time studying in thelibrary at Milan. Sitting there one day, he heard a warning voice whichtold him that the thing he most feared had indeed come to pass. He feltthat his heart was broken, and, springing up, he rushed out into thecourt, where he met certain of the Palavicini, the friends with whom hewas staying, and cried out, "Alas, alas, he was indeed privy to the deathof his wife, and now he has confessed it all, therefore he will becondemned to death and beheaded. " Then having caught up a garment he wentout to the piazza, and, before he had gone half-way he met his son-in-law, who asked him in sorrowful tones whither he was going. Cardan answeredthat he was troubled with apprehensions lest Gian Battista should haveconfessed his crime, whereupon Bartolomeo Sacco told him that what hefeared had indeed come to pass. Gian Battista had admitted the truth ofthe charge against him: he was ultimately put on his trial before theSenate of Milan, [192] the President of the Court being one Rigone, a manwhom Cardan afterwards accused of partiality and of a hostile bias towardsthe prisoner. Cardan himself stood up to defend his son; but with a fullconfession staring him in the face, he was sorely puzzled to fix upon aline of defence. This he perceived must of necessity be largelyrhetorical; and, after he had grasped the entire situation, he set to workto convince the Court on two main points, first, that Gian Battista was ayouth of simple guileless character; and, second, there was no proof thatBrandonia had died of poison. A physician of good repute, VincenzoDinaldo, swore that she had died of fever (_lipyria_), and not from theeffect of poison; and five others, men of the highest character, declaredthat she bore no signs of poison, either externally or internally. Hertongue and extremities and her body were not blackened, nor was thestomach swollen, nor did the hair and nails show any signs of falling, nor were the tissues eaten away. In the opening of his defence Cardanattempted to discredit the character of Brandonia. He showed how greatwere the injuries and provocations which Gian Battista had received fromher, and that she was a dissolute wanton; her father himself, when underexamination, having refused to say that she was a virgin when she left hishouse to be married. He claimed justification for the husband who shouldslay his wife convicted of adultery; and here, in this case, Brandonia wasconvicted by her own confession. He maintained that, if homicide is to becommitted at all, poison is preferable to the knife, and then he went onto weave a web of ineffectual casuistry in support of his view, whichmoved the Court to pity and contempt. He cited the _Lex Cornelia_, whichdoomed the common people to the arena, and the patricians to exile, andclaimed the penalty last-named as the one fitting to the presentcase. [193] Then he proceeded to show that the woman had really died fromnatural causes; for, even granting that she had swallowed arsenic in thecake, she had vomited at once, and the poison would have no time to do itswork; moreover there was no proof that Gian Battista had given specificdirections to anybody to mix poison with the ingredients of the cake. Themost he had done was to utter some vague words thereanent to his servant, who forthwith took the matter into his own hands. [194] If Gian Battistahad known, if he had merely been suspicious that the cake was poisoned, would he have let a crumb of it pass his lips; and if any large quantityof poison had been present, would he and the other persons who had eatenthereof have recovered so quickly? Cardan next went on to argue that, whatever motive may have swayed Gian Battista at this juncture, it couldnot have been the deliberate intent to kill his wife, because forsooth thewretched youth was incapable of deliberate action of any sort. He couldnever keep in the same mood for four-and-twenty hours at a stretch. Henursed alternately in his heart vengeance and forgiveness, changing asdiscord or peace ruled in his house. Cardan showed what a life of miserythe wretched youth had passed since his marriage. Had this life continued, the finger of shame would have been pointed at him, he must have lost hisstatus as a member of his profession, and have been cut off from thesociety of all decent people; nay, he would most likely have died by thehand of one or other of his wife's paramours. This was to show howpowerful was the temptation to which the husband was exposed, and again hesang the praises of poison as an instrument of "removal"; because ifeffectively employed, it led to no open scandal. 

He next brought forward the simple and unsophisticated character of theaccused, and the physical afflictions which had vexed him all his life, giving as illustrations of his son's folly the headlong haste with whichhe had rushed into a marriage, his folly in giving an ineffectual dose, ifhe really meant to poison his wife, in letting his plot be known to hisservant, and in confessing. Lastly, Cardan had in readiness one of hisfavourite portents to lay before the Court. When Brandonia's brother hadcome into the house and found his father and sister sick through eatingthe cake, he suspected foul play and rushed at Gian Battista and at Aldowho was also there, and threatened them with his sword; but before hecould harm them he fell down in a fit, his hand having been arrested byProvidence. Providence had thus shown pity to this wretched youth, and nowCardan besought the Senate to be equally merciful. 

Cardan's pleas were all rejected; indeed such issue was inevitable fromthe first, if the Senate of Milan were not determined to abdicate theprimary functions of a judicial tribunal. Gian Battista was condemned todeath, but a strange condition was annexed to the sentence, to wit thathis life would be spared, if the prosecutors, the Seroni family, could beinduced to consent. But their consent was only to be gained by the paymentof a sum of money entirely beyond Cardan's means, their demand having beenstimulated through some foolish boasting of the family wealth by thecondemned prisoner. [195] Cardan was powerless to arrest the course of thelaw, and Gian Battista was executed in prison on the night of April 7, 1560. 

In the whole world of biographic record it would be hard to find a figuremore pathetic than that of Cardan fighting for the life of his unworthyson. No other episode of his career wins from the reader sympathy half sodeep. The experience of these terrible days certainly shook still furtheroff its balance a mind not over steady in its calmest moments. Cardanwrote voluminously and laboriously over Gian Battista's fate, but in hisdirges and lamentations he never lets fall an expression of detestation orregret with regard to the crime itself: all his soul goes out incelebrating the charm and worth of his son, and in moaning over the ruinof mind, body, and estate which had fallen upon him through this cruelstroke of adverse fate. When he sat down to write the _De Vita Propria_, Cardan was strongly possessed with the belief that all through his careerhe had been subject to continuous and extraordinary persecution at thehands of his enemies. The entire thirtieth chapter is devoted to thedescription of these plots and assaults. In his earlier writings heattributes his calamities to evil fate and the influences of the stars;his wit was indeed great, and assuredly it was allied to madness, so it isnot impossible that these personal foes who dogged his steps were largelythe creatures of an old man's monomaniacal fancies. The persecution, heaffirms, began to be so bitter as to be almost intolerable after thecondemnation of Gian Battista. "Certain members of the Senate afterwardsadmitted (though I am sure they would be loth that men should hold themcapable of such a wish) that they condemned my son to death in the hopethat I might be killed likewise, or at least might lose my wits, and thepowers above can bear witness how nearly one of these ills befell me. Iwould that you should know what these times were like, and what practiceswere in fashion. I am well assured that I never wrought offence to any ofthese men, even by my shadow. I took advice how I might put forward adefence of some kind on my son's behalf, but what arguments would haveprevailed with minds so exasperated against me as were theirs?"[196]

FOOTNOTES:

[176] _De Vita Propria_, p. 57. 

[177] "In ore illud semper ei erat: Omnis spiritus laudet Dominum, quiipse est fons omnium virtutum. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Iii. P. 7. Reginald Scot, in the _Discoverie of Witchcraft_, says that the aforesaidexclamation of Fazio was the Paracelsian charm to drive away spirits thathaunt any house. There is a passage in _De Consolatione_ (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 600) which gives Fazio's view of happiness after death:--"Meminerampatrem meum, Facium Cardanum, cum viveret, in ore semper habuisse, semortem optare, quod nullum suavius tempus experiretur, qu[a=] id in quoprofundissime dormiens omnium quæ in hac vita fiunt expers esset. "

[178] Cardan gives his impressions of musicians:--"Unde nostra ætateneminem ferine musicum invenias, qui non omni redundat vitiorum genere. Itaque hujusmodi musica maximo impedimento non solum pauperi et negotiosoviro est, sed etiam omnibus generaliter. Quin etiam virorum egregiorumnostræ ætatis neminem musicum agnovimus, Erasmum, Alciatum, Budæum, Jasonem, Vesalium, Gesnerum. At vero quod domum everterit meam, si dicam, vera fatebor meo more. Nam et pecuniæ non levem jacturam feci, et quodmajus est, filiorum mores corrupi. Sunt enim plerique ebrii, gulosi, procaces, inconstantes, impatientes, stolidi, inertes, omnisque libidinisgenere coinquinati. Optimi quique inter illos stulti sunt. "--_DeUtilitate_, p. 362. 

[179] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xiii. P. 45. 

[180] "Quid profuit hæc tua industria, quis infelicior in filiis? quorumalter male periit: alter nec regi potest nec regere?"--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 109. 

[181] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 614. 

[182] "In cæteris erit elegans, splendidus, humanus, gravis et qui abomnibus, potentioribusque, præsertim probetur. "--_Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 464. 

[183] "A scorto nuntius venit. "--_De Utilitate_, p. 833. 

[184] This incident is taken from the _De Utilitate_, which was writtensoon after the events chronicled. The account given in the _De VitaPropria_, written twenty years later, differs in some details. "Veniodomum, accurrit famulus admodum tristis, nunciat Johannem Baptistamduxisse uxorem Brandoniam Seronam. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xli. P. 147. 

[185] Cardan in describing this action of Gian Battista, who was thendetermined to murder his wife, says of him: "Erat enim natura clemensadmodum et gratus. "--_De Utilitate_, p. 834. 

[186] "Triduana illa disceptatio Papiæ cum Camutio instituta, publicataapud Senatum: ipse primo argumento primæ diei siluit. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xii. P. 37. This does not exactly tally with Camutio's version. Withregard to Cardan's assertion that his colleagues hesitated to meet him inmedical discussion it may be noted that Camutio printed a book at Pavia in1563, with the following title: "Andrææ Camutii disputationes quibusHieronymi Cardani magni nominis viri conclusiones infirmantur, Galenus abejusdem injuria vindicatur, Hippocratis præterea aliquot loca diligentiusmulto quam unquam alias explicantur. " In his version (_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xii. P. 37) Cardan inquires sarcastically: "Habentur ejusdem imaginesquædam typis excusæ in Camutii monumentis. "

[187] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xii. P. 39. The Third Book of the_Theonoston_ (_Opera_, tom. Ii. P. 403) is in the form of a disputation, "De animi immortalite, " with this same Branda. 

[188] In his defence at the trial Cardan affirmed that, while Brandoniawas lying sick from eating the cake, her mother and the nurse quarrelledand fought, and finally fell down upon the sick woman. When the fight wasover Brandonia was dead. In _Opera_, tom. Ii. P. 311 (_Theonoston_, lib. I. ) he writes: "Obiit illa non veneno, sed vi morbi atque Fato quo taminclytus juvenis morte sua, omnia turbare debuerat. "

[189] "Vocatus sum enim ad Ducem Suessanum ex Ticinensi Academia accepiqueC. Aureos coronatos et dona ex serico. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xl. P. 138. 

[190] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xli. P. 153. 

[191] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 671. He cites the names of former Governors ofMilan and other patrons, many of them harsh men, and not one as kind andbeneficent as the Duca di Sessa; to wit Antonio Leva, Cardinal Caracio, Alfonso d'Avalos, Ferrante Gonzaga, the Cardinal of Trent, and the Ducad'Alba. Yet the rule of his best friend brought him his worst misfortune. 

[192] There is a full account of the trial in an appendix to the _DeUtilitate ex Adversis Capienda_ (Basel, 1561). It is not included in theedition hitherto cited. 

[193] Laudabatur ejus benignitas aC simul factum Io. Petri Solariitabellionis, qui cum filium spurium convictum haberet de veneficio, induas sorores legitimas, solum hæreditatis consequendæ causa, satis habuitdamnasse illum ad triremes. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. X. P. 33. 

[194] "Evasit nuper ob constantiam in tormentis famulus filii mei, quipretio venenum dederat dominæ sine causa: periit filius meus, qui necjusserat dari. "--_De Utilitate_, p. 339. 

[195] Gian Battista seems to have boasted about the family wealth, andthus stirred up the Seroni to demand an excessive and impossible sum. "Hæcet alia hujusmodi cum protulissem, non valere, nisi eousque, ut decretumsit, si impetrare pacem potuissem vitæ parceretur. Sed non potuit filiistultitia, qui dum jactat opes quæ non sunt, illi quod non eratexigunt. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. X. P. 34. 

[196] _De Vita Propria_, ch. X. P. 33. 

CHAPTER X

CARDAN had risen to high and well-deserved fame, and this fact alone mightaccount for the existence of jealousy and ill-feeling amongst certain ofthose whom he had passed in the race. Some men, it is true, rise toeminence without making more than a few enemies, but Cardan was not one ofthese. His foes must have been numerous and truculent, the assault theydelivered must have been deadly and overwhelming to have brought to suchpiteous wreck fortunes which seemed to rest upon the solid ground ofdesert. The public voice might accuse him of folly, but assuredly not ofcrime; he was the victim and not the culprit; his skill as a physician wasas great as ever, but these considerations weighed little with the houndswho were close upon his traces. Now that the tide of his fortune seemed tobe on the ebb they gathered around him. He writes: "And this, in sooth, was the chief, the culminating misfortune of my life: forasmuch as I couldnot with any show of decency be kept in my office, nor could I bedismissed without some more valid excuse, I could neither continue toreside in Milan with safety, nor could I depart therefrom. As I walkedabout the city men looked askance at me; and whenever I might be forced toexchange words with any one, I felt that I was a disgraced man. Thus, being conscious that my company was unacceptable, I shunned my friends. Ihad no notion what I should do, or whither I should go. I cannot saywhether I was more wretched in myself than I was odious to myfellows. "[197]

Cardan gathered a certain amount of consolation from meditating over theills which befell all those who were concerned in Gian Battista's fate. The Senator Falcutius, a man of the highest character in other respects, died about four months later, exclaiming with his dying breath that he wasundone through the brutal ignorance of a certain man, who had been eagerfor the death sentence. One Hala shortly afterwards followed Falcutius tothe grave, having fallen sick with phthisis immediately after the trial. Rigone, the President of the Court, lost his wife, and gave her burialbereft of the usual decencies of the last rite, a thing which Cardan sayshe could not have believed, had he not been assured of the same by thetestimony of many witnesses. It was reported too, that Rigone himself, though a man of good reputation, was forced to feign death in order toescape accusation on some charge or other. His only son had died shortlybefore, so it might be said with reason that his house was as it werethrown under an evil spell by the avenging Furies of the youth whom he hadsent to die in a dungeon. Again, within a few days the prosecutor himself, Evangelista Seroni, the man who was the direct cause of his son-in-law'sdeath, was thrown into prison, and, having been deprived of his office ofdebt collector, became a beggar. Moreover, the son whom he specially lovedwas condemned to death in Sicily, and died on the gallows. Public andprivate calamity fell upon the Duca di Sessa, [198] the Governor of Milan, doubtless because he had allowed the law to take its course. Indeed everyperson great or small who had been concerned in Gian Battista'scondemnation, was, by Cardan's showing, overtaken by grave misfortune. 

Cardan still held his Professorship at Pavia, and in spite of thedifficulties and embarrassments of his position he went back to resume hiswork of teaching a few days after the fatal issue of his son's trial andcondemnation. By the pathetic simplicity of its diction the followingextract gives a vivid and piteous picture of the utter desolation andmisery into which he was cast: it shows likewise that, after a lapse offifteen years, the memory of his shame and sorrow was yet green, and thata powerful stimulus had been given to his superstitious fancies by theevents lately chronicled. "In the month of May, in the year MDLX, a timewhen sleep had refused to come to me because of my grief for my son'sdeath: when I could get no relief from fasting nor from the flagellation Iinflicted upon my legs when I rode abroad, nor from the game of chesswhich I then played with Ercole Visconti, a youth very dear to me, andlike myself troubled with sleeplessness, I prayed God to have pity uponme, because I felt that I must needs die, or lose my wits, or at leastgive up my work as Professor, unless I got some sleep, and that soon. WereI to resign my office, I could find no other means of earning my bread: ifI should go mad I must become a laughing-stock to all. I must in any caselavish what still remained of my patrimony, for at my advanced age I couldnot hope to find fresh employment. Therefore I besought God that He wouldsend me death, which is the lot of all men. I went to bed: it was alreadylate, and, as I must needs rise at four in the morning, I should not havemore than two hours' rest. Sleep, however, fell upon me at once, andmeseemed that I heard a voice speaking to me out of the darkness. I coulddiscern naught, so it was impossible to say what voice it was, or who wasthe speaker. It said, 'What would you have?' or 'What are you grievingover?' and added, 'Is it that you mourn for your son's death?' I replied, 'Can you doubt this?' Then the voice answered, 'Take the stone which ishanging round your neck and place it to your mouth, and so long as youhold it there you will not be troubled with thoughts of your son. ' Here Iawoke, and at once asked myself what this beryl stone could have to dowith sleep, but after a little, when I found no other means of escape frommy trouble, I called to mind the words spoken of a certain man: 'He hopedeven beyond hope, and it was accounted to him as righteousness' (spoken ofAbraham), and put the stone in my mouth, whereupon a thing beyond beliefcame to pass. In a moment all remembrance of my son faded from my mind, and the same thing happened when I fell asleep a second time after beingaroused. "[199]

The record of Cardan's life for the next two years is a meagre one. Hisrest was constantly disturbed either by the machinations of his foes or bythe dread thereof, the evil last-named being probably the more noxious ofthe two. As long ago as 1557 he had begun the treatise _De Utilitate exAdversis Capienda_, a work giving evidence of careful construction, andone which, as a literary performance, takes the first rank. [200] This bookhad been put aside, either through pressure of other work or familytroubles, but now the circumstances in which he found himself seemedperfectly congenial for the elaboration of a subject of this nature, so heset to work to finish it, concluding with the chapter _De Luctu_, whichhas been used largely as the authority for the foregoing narrative of GianBattista's crime and death. At this period, when his mind was fully storedand his faculties adequately disciplined for the production of the bestwork, he seems to have realized with sharp regret that the time before himwas so short, and that whatever fresh fruit of knowledge he might putforth would prove of very slight profit to him, as author. Writing of hisreplies given to certain mathematical professors, who had sent himproblems for solution, he remarks that, although he may have a happy knackof dispatching with rapidity any work begun, he always begins too late. Inhis fifty-eighth year he answered one of these queries, involving threevery difficult problems, within seven days; a feat which he judges to be amarvel: but what profit will it bring him now? If he had written thistreatise when he was thirty he would straightway have risen to fame andfortune, in spite of his poverty, his rivals, and his enemies. Then, inten years' space, he would have finished and brought out all those bookswhich were now lying unfinished around him in his old age; and moreoverwould have won so great gain and glory, that no farther good fortunewould have remained for him to ask for. Another work which he had begunabout the same time (1558) was the treatise on _Dialectic_, illustrated bygeometrical problems and theorems, and likewise by the well-known logicalcatch lines _Barbara Celarent_. During the summer vacation of 1561 hereturned to Milan, and began a _Commentary on the Anatomy of Mundinus_, the recognized text-book of the schools up to the appearance of Vesalius. In the preface to this work he puts forward a vigorous plea for theextended use of anatomy in reaching a diagnosis. [201] He had likewise onhand the _Theonoston_, a set of essays on Moral subjects written somethingin the spirit of Seneca; and, after Gian Battista's death, he wrote thedialogue _Tetim, seu de Humanis Consiliis_. In the year following, 1561, afarther sorrow and trouble came upon him by the death of the Englishyouth, William. If he was guilty of neglect in the case of this youngman--and by his own confession he was--he was certainly profoundly grievedat his death. In the Argument to the _Dialogus de Morte_ he laments thathe ever let the youth leave his house without sending him back to England, and tells how he was cozened by Daldo, the crafty tailor, out of a premiumof thirty-one gold crowns, in return for which William was to be taught atrade. "But during the summer, Daldo, who had a little farm in thecountry, took the youth there and let him join in the village games, andby degrees made him into a vinedresser. But if at any time it chanced thatWilliam's services were also wanted at the tailor's shop, his master wouldforce him to return thereto in the evening (for the farm was two milesdistant), and sit sewing all the night. Besides this the boy would godancing with the villagers, and in the course of their merry-making hefell in love with a girl. While I was living at Milan he was taken withfever, and came to me; but, for various reasons, I did not give properattention to him, first, because he himself made light of his ailment;second, because I knew not that his sickness had been brought on byexcessive toil and exposure to the sun; and third, because, when he hadbeen seized with a similar distemper on two or three occasions beforethis, he had always got well within four or five days. Besides this I wasthen in trouble owing to the running away of my son Aldo and one of myservants. What more is there to tell? Four days after I had ordered him tobe bled, messengers came to me in the night and begged me to go and seehim, for he was apparently near his end. He was seized with convulsionsand lost his senses, but I battled with the disease and brought him round. I was obliged to return to Pavia to resume my teaching, and William, whenhe was well enough to get up, was forced to sleep in the workshop by hismaster, who had been bidden to a wedding. There he suffered so much fromcold and bad food that, when he was setting out for Pavia to seek me, hewas again taken ill. His unfeeling master caused him to be removed to thepoor-house, and there he died the following morning from the violence ofthe distemper, from agony of mind, and from the cold he had suffered. Indeed I was so heavily stricken by mischance that meseemed I had lostanother son. "

It was partly as a consolation in his own grief, and partly as a monumentto the ill-fated youth, that Cardan wrote the _Dialogus de Morte_, a workwhich contains little of interest beyond the record of Cardan'simpressions of Englishmen already quoted. But it was beyond hope that heshould find adequate solace for the gnawing grief and remorse whichoppressed him in this, or any other literary work. He was ill looked uponat Milan, but his position at Pavia seems to have been still more irksome. He grew nervous as to his standing as a physician, for, with the powerfulprejudice which had been raised against him both as to his public and hisprivate affairs, he felt that a single slip in his treatment of anyparticular case would be fatal to him. In Milan he did meet with a certainamount of gratitude from the wealthier citizens for the services he hadwrought them; but in Pavia, his birthplace, the public mind was stronglyset against him; indeed in 1562 he was subjected to so much pettypersecution at the hands of the authorities and of his colleagues, that hedetermined to give up his Professorship at all cost. He describes at greatlength one of the most notable intrigues against him. "Now in dealing withthe deadly snares woven against my life, I will tell you of somethingstrange which befell me. During my Professorship at Pavia I was in thehabit of reading in my own house. I had in my household at that time awoman to do occasional work, the youth Ercole Visconti, two boys, andanother servant. Of the two boys, one was my amanuensis and well skilledin music, and the other was a lackey. It was in 1562 that I made up mymind to resign my office of teaching and quit Pavia, a resolution whichthe Senate took in ill part, and dealt with me as with a man transportedwith rage. But there were two doctors of the city who strove with alltheir might to drive me away: one a crafty fellow who had formerly been apupil of mine; the other was the teacher extraordinary in Medicine, asimple-minded man, and, as I take it, not evil by nature; but covetous andambitious men will stop at nothing, especially when the prize to be won isan office held in high esteem. Thus, when they despaired of getting ridof me through the action of the Senate--what though I was petitioning tobe relieved of my duties--they laid a plot to kill me, not by the daggerfor fear of the Senate and of possible scandal, but by malignant craft. Myopponent perceived that he could not be promoted to the post of principalteacher unless I should leave the place, and for this reason he and hisallies spread their nets from a distance. In the first place, they causedto be written to me, in the name of my son-in-law[202] and of my daughteras well, a most vile and filthy letter telling how they were ashamed oftheir kinship with me; that they were ashamed likewise for the sake of theSenate, and of the College; and that the authorities ought to takecognizance of the matter and pronounce me unworthy of the office ofteacher and cause me to be removed therefrom forthwith. Confounded atreceiving such an impudent and audacious reproof at the hands of my ownkindred, I knew not what to do or say, or what reply I should make; norcould I divine for what reason this unseemly and grievous affront had beenput upon me. It afterwards came to light that the letter was written inorder to serve as an occasion for fresh attacks; for, before many days hadpassed, another letter came to me bearing the name of one Fioravanti, written in the following strain. This man was likewise shocked for thesake of the city, the college, and the body of professors, seeing that areport had been spread abroad that I was guilty of abominable offenceswhich cannot be named. He would call upon a number of his friends to takesteps to compel me to consider the public scandal I was causing, and wouldsee that the houses where these offences were committed should be pointedout. When I read this letter I was as one stupefied, nor could I believeit was the work of Fioravanti, whom I had hitherto regarded as a man ofseemly carriage and a friend. But this letter and its purport remainedfixed in my mind and prompted me to reply to my son-in-law; for I believedno longer that he had aught to do with the letter which professed to comefrom him; indeed I ought never to have harboured such a suspicion, seeingthat both then and now he has always had the most kindly care for me; norhas he ever judged ill of me. 

"I called for my cloak at once and went to Fioravanti, whom I questionedabout the letter. He admitted that he wrote it, whereupon I was more thanever astonished, for I was loth to suspect him of crooked dealing, muchmore of any premeditated treachery. I began to reason with him, and toinquire where all these wonderful plans had been concocted, and then hebegan to waver, and failed to find an answer. He could only put forwardcommon report, and the utterances of the Rector of the Gymnasium, as thesource of them. "[203]

Cardan goes on to connect the foregoing incident, by reasoning which isnot very clear, with what he maintained to have been a veritable attemptagainst his life. "The first act of the tragedy having come to an end, thesecond began, and this threw certain light upon the first. My foes made ittheir special care that I, whom they held up as a disgrace to my country, to my family, to the Senate, to the Colleges of Milan and Pavia, to theCouncil of Professors, and to the students, should become a member of theAccademia degli Affidati, a society in which were enrolled diversillustrious theologians, two Cardinals, and two princes, the Duke ofMantua, and the Marquis Pescara. When they perceived how loth I was totake this step they began to threaten. What was I to do, broken down bythe cruel fate of my son, and suffering every possible evil? Finally Iagreed, induced by the promise they made me, that, in the course of a fewdays, I should be relieved of my duties as Professor; but I did not thenperceive the snare, or consider how it was that they should now court thefellowship of one whom, less than fifteen days ago, all ranks of theCollege had declared to be a monster not to be tolerated. Alas for faithin heaven, for the barbarity of men, for the hatred of false friends, forthat shamelessness and cruelty more fell than serpent's bite! What more isthere to tell? The first time I entered the room of the Affidati I sawthat a heavy beam had been poised above in such fashion that it mighteasily fall and kill whatsoever person might be passing underneath. Whether this had been done by accident or design I cannot say. Buthereafter I attended as rarely as possible, making excuses for my absence;and, when I did go, I went when no one looked for me, and out of season, taking good heed of this trap the while. Wherefore no evil befell methereby, either because my foes deemed it unwise to work such wickednessin public, or because they had not finally agreed to put their scheme inoperation, or because they were plotting some fresh evil against me. Another attempt was made a few days later, when I was called to the ailingson of one Piero Trono, a surgeon; they placed high over the door a leadenweight which might easily be made to fall, pretending that it had been putthere to hold up the curtain. This weight did fall; and, had it struck me, it would certainly have killed me: how near I was to death, God knows. Wherefore I began to be suspicious of something I could not define, sogreatly was my mind upset. Then a third attempt was made, which wasevident enough. A few days later, when they were about to sing a new Mass, the same rascally crew came to me, asking me whether I would lend them theservices of my two singing boys, for my enemies knew well enough thatthese boys acted as my cup-bearers, and over and beyond this they made anagreement with my hired woman that she should give me poison. They firstwent to Ercole and tried to persuade him to go to the function; and he, suspecting nothing, at first promised his help; but when he heard that hisfellow was to go likewise, he began to smell mischief and said, 'Only oneof us knows music. ' Then Fioravanti, a blunt fellow, was so wholly set ongetting them out of the house that he said, 'Let us have both of you, forwe know that the other is also a musician; and, though he may not be oneof the best, still he will serve to swell the band of choristers. ' ThenErcole said somewhat vaguely that he would ask his master. He came to me, having fathomed and laid bare the whole intention of the plot, so that, ifI had not been stark mad and stupid, I might easily have seen throughtheir design. Fifteen days or so had passed when the same men once moresought me out and begged me to let them have the two boys to help them inthe performance of a comedy. Then Ercole came to me and said, 'Now insooth the riddle is plain to read; they are planning to get all yourpeople away from your table, so that they may kill you with poison; norare they satisfied with plotting your death merely by tricks of this sort;they are determined to kill you by any chance which may offer. "[204]

How far these plots were real, and how far they sprang from monomania itis impossible to say. Cardan's relations with his brother physicians hadnever been of the happiest, and it is quite possible that a set may havebeen made in the Pavian Academy to get rid of a colleague, difficult tolive with at the best, and now cankered still more in temper bymisfortune, and likewise, in a measure, disgraced by the same. Surroundedby annoyances such as these, and tormented by the intolerable memories andassociations of the last few years, it is not wonderful that he shouldseek a way out of his troubles by a change of scene and occupation. 

As early as 1536 Cardan had had professional relations with certainmembers of the Borromeo family, which was one of the most illustrious inMilan, and in 1560 Carlo Borromeo was appointed Archbishop of Milan. Thereis no record of the date when Cardan first made acquaintance with thisgenerous patron, who was the nephew of the reigning Pope, Pius IV. , himself a Milanese, but it is certain that Cardan had at an earlier datesuccessfully treated the mother of the future Cardinal, [205] wherefore itis legitimate to assume that the physician was _persona grata_ to thewhole family. As soon as Cardan had determined to withdraw from Pavia heapplied to the Cardinal, who had just made a magnificent benefaction toBologna in the form of the University buildings. He espoused Cardan'sinterests at once, and most opportunely, for the protection of a powerfulpersonage was almost as needful at Bologna, as the sequel shows, as itwould have been at Pavia. It was evident that Cardan had foes elsewherethan in Pavia; indeed the early stages of the negotiation, which went onin reference to his transfer to Bologna, suggest a doubt whether thechange would bring him any advantage other than the substitution of oneset of enemies for another. He writes: "When I was about to be summonedto teach at Bologna, some persons of that place who were envious of myreputation sent a certain officer (a getter-up of petitions) to Pavia. Nowthis fellow, who never once entered the class-room, nor had a word withany one of my pupils, wrote, on what authority I know not, a report inthese words: 'Concerning Girolamo Cardano, I am told that he taught inthis place, but got no pupils, always lecturing to empty benches: that heis a man of evil life, ill regarded by all, and little less than a fool, repulsive in his manners, and entirely unskilled in medicine. After he hadpromulgated certain of his opinions he found no one in the city who wouldemploy him, nor did he practise his art. '

"These words were read to the Senate by the messenger on his return in thepresence of the illustrious Borromeo, the Pope's Legate to the city. TheSenate were upon the point of breaking off all further negotiations, butwhile the man was reading his report, some one present heard the words inwhich he declared that I did not practise medicine. 'Hui!' he cried, 'Iknow that is not true, for I myself have seen divers men of the highestconsideration going to him for help, and I--though I am not to be rankedwith them--have often consulted him myself. ' Then the Legate took up theparole and said, 'I too bear witness that he cured my own mother when shewas given up by every one else. ' Then the first speaker suggested thatprobably the rest of the tale was just as worthy of belief as this onestatement, the Legate agreeing thereto; whereupon the messenger aforesaidheld his tongue and blushed for shame. Ultimately the Senate determined toappoint me Professor for one year, 'for, ' they said, 'if he should proveto be the sort of man the officer describes, or if his teaching shouldprofit us nothing, we can let him go; but if it be otherwise, thecontract may be ratified. ' With regard to the salary, over which a disputehad already arisen, the Legate gave his consent, and the business came toan end. 

"But, disregarding this settlement, my opponents urged one of their numberto wait upon me as a delegate from the Senate, and this man would fainhave added to the terms already sanctioned by the Senate, others which Icould not possibly accept. He offered me a smaller stipend, no teachingroom was assigned to me, and no allowance for travelling expenses. Irefused to treat with him, whereupon he was forced to depart, and toreturn to me later on with the terms of my engagement duly setforth. "[206]

It was in June 1562 that Cardan finally resigned his position at Pavia, but it was not until some months after this date that the final agreementwith the Bolognese Senate, lately referred to, was concluded, and in theinterim he was forced to suffer no slight annoyance and persecution at thehands of his adversaries in Pavia, in Bologna, and in Milan as well. Justbefore he resigned his Professorship he was warned by the portentouskindling of a fire, seemingly dead, [207] that fresh mischief was afoot, and he at once determined in his mind that his foes had planneddestruction against him afresh. So impressed was he at this manifestationthat he swore he would not leave home on the day following. "But early inthe morning there came to my house four or five of my pupils bidding me toa feast, where all the chief Professors of the Gymnasium and the Academyproposed to be present. I replied that I could not come, whereuponthey, knowing that it was not my wont to dine in the middle of the day, and deeming that it was on this score that I refused to join them, said, 'Then for your sake we will make the feast a supper. ' I answered that Icould not on any account make one of their party, and then they demandedto know the cause of my refusal. I replied it was because of a strangeevent which had befallen me, and of a vow I had made thereanent. At thisthey were greatly astonished, and two of them exchanged significantglances, and they urged me again and again that I should not be so firmlyset upon marring so illustrious a gathering by my absence, but I gave backthe same answer as before. "[208] They came a second time, but Cardan wasnot to be moved. He records, however, that he did break his vow after allby going out after dusk to see a poor butcher who was seriously ill. 

It is hard to detect any evidence of deadly intent in what seems, bycontemporary daylight, to have been a complimentary invitation to dinner;but to the old man, possessed as he was by hysterical terrors, thisepisode undoubtedly foreshadowed another assault against his life. Hefinds some compensation, however, in once more recording the fact that allthese disturbers of his peace--like the men who were concerned in GianBattista's condemnation--came to a bad end. His rival, who had taken hisplace as Professor, had not taught in the schools more than three or fourtimes before he was seized with disease and died after three months'suffering. "Upon him there lay only the suspicion of the charge, but Iheard afterwards that a friend of his was certainly privy to the deed ofmurder which they had resolved to work upon me by giving me a cup ofpoisoned wine at the supper. In the same year died Delfino, and a littlewhile after Fioravanti. "[209]

In July Cardan withdrew to Milan, where, to add to his other troubles, hewas seized with an attack of fever. He was now thoroughly alarmed at thelook of his affairs. Many of his fears may have been imaginary, but theburden of real trouble which he had to carry was one which might easilybring him to the ground, and, when once a man is down, the crowd haslittle pity or scruple in trampling him to death. He set about to reviewhis position, and to spy out all possible sources of danger. He writes: "Icalled to mind all the books I had written, and, seeing that in them therewere many obscure passages upon which an unfavourable meaning might be putby the malice of my enemies, I wrote to the Council, submitting all mywritings to its judgment and will and pleasure. By this action I savedmyself from grave danger and disgrace in the future. "[210] The Council towhich Cardan here refers was probably the Congregation of the Indexappointed by the Council at Trent for the authoritative examination of allbooks before allowing them to be read by the faithful. Before the close ofthe Council (1563) these duties had been handed over to the Pope (PiusIV. ), who published the revised and definite Roman Index in 1564. 

FOOTNOTES:

[197] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxvii. P. 71. 

[198] "Quin etiam dominus ac Princeps alioquin generosus et humanus, cumipsum ob invidiam meam et accusatorum multitudinem deseruisset, et ipsemultis modis conflictatus est gravibus morbis, cæde propriæ neptis àconjuge suo, litibus gravibus: tum etiam subsecuta calamitas publica, Zotophagite insula amissa, classe regia dissipata. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xli. P. 153. The island alluded to must have been _Lotophagitesinsula_, an island near the Syrtes Minor on the African coast, and theloss of the same probably refers to some disaster during the Imperialistwars against the Moors. 

[199] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xliii. P. 160. 

[200] Cardan rates it as his best work on an ethical subject. --_Opera_, tom i. P. 146. And on p. 115 he writes: "Utinam contigisset absolvere anteerrorem filii; neque enim ille errasset, nec errandi causam aliquamhabuisset: nec, etiamsi errasset, periisset. " He also quotes a letter fullof sound and loving counsels which he had sent to Gian Battista six monthsbefore he fell into the snare. 

[201] _Opera_, tom. X. P. 129. 

[202] Bartolomeo Sacco was evidently living at Pavia at this date. 

[203] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxx. P. 83. 

[204] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxx. P. 86. 

[205] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xvii. P. 55. 

[206] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xvii. P. 54. 

[207] _Ibid. , _ ch. Xxx. P. 88. There is also a long account of thisoccurrence in _Opera_, tom. X. P. 459. 

[208] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxx. P. 89. 

[209] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxx. P. 90. 

[210] _Opera_, tom. X. P. 460. 

CHAPTER XI

WHILE Cardan was lying sick at Milan, a messenger came from Pavia, begginghim to hasten thither to see his infant grandson, who had been ailing whenhe left Pavia, and was now much worse. The journey under the burning sunof the hottest summer known for many years aggravated his malady, but hebrought the child out of danger. He caught erysipelas in the face, and tothis ailment succeeded severe trouble with the teeth. If it had not beenfor the fact that the time of the new moon had been near, he says that hemust have submitted to blood-letting; but after the new moon his healthmended, and thus he escaped the two-fold danger--that of the disease, andthat of the lancet. He tells of an attempt made against his life by aservant for the sake of robbery, an attempt which came very near success;and of a severe attack of gout in the knee. After a month's confinement tohis house he began to practise Medicine; and, finding patients in plenty, he nourished a hope that Fortune had done her worst, and that he might beallowed to repair his shattered fortunes by the exercise of his calling, but the activity of his adversaries--which may or may not have beenprovoked solely by malignity--was unsleeping. He hints at further attemptsagainst his good name and his life, and gives at length some painfuldetails of another charge made against him of an infamous character. Itis almost certain that his way was made all the harder for him from thecomplaints which he had put in print about the indifference of the Duca diSessa to his interests at the time of Gian Battista's trial. The Milanesedoctors had no love for him, and every petulant word he might let fallwould almost surely be brought to the Governor's ears. By Cardan's ownadmission it appears that utterances of this sort were both frequent andacrid. There was a certain physician of the city who wished to place hisson gratis in Cardan's household. Cardan, however, refused, whereupon thephysician in question called attention to a certain book in which Cardanhad made some remarks to the effect that the friendship of the Duca diSessa had been a fatal one to him, inasmuch as, having trusted tooentirely to this friendship for his support, he had let go other interestswhich might have served him better. The physician aforesaid made a secondapplication to Cardan to receive his son, offering this time to intercedewith the Governor on his behalf. This proposition roused the old man'sanger, and he exclaimed that he had no need of such friendship orprotection; that in fact the interruption of their good understanding hadcome about more by his own act than the Governor's, who had been eitherunable or unwilling to save Gian Battista's life. The doctor replied, inthe presence of divers persons, that Gian Battista had perished throughhis own foolishness: if he had not confessed he would never have beencondemned; that the Senate had condemned him and not the Duca di Sessa, and that Cardan was now slandering this prince most unjustly. A lot ofbusy-bodies had by this time been attracted by the wrangle, and theseheard the doctor's accusations in full, but gathered a very imperfectnotion of Cardan's reply. He indignantly denied this charge, and in hisown account of the scene he affirms that he won the approbation of all wholistened, by the moderation of his bearing and speech. 

Four days after this occurrence he again met this physician, who declaredhe knew for certain that a kinsman of the Duca di Sessa, a hot-temperedman, had just read some slanders written by Cardan about the Duke, and haddeclared he would cut the writer in half and throw his remains into thejakes; the physician went on to say that he had appeased this gentleman'sresentment, and that Cardan had now no cause for fear. Cardan at once sawthrough the dishonesty of the fellow, who was not content with bringingforward an unjust accusation, but must likewise subject him to thesecalumnies and the consequent dangers. After a bout of wrangling, in whichthe physician sought vainly to win from him an acknowledgment of theservice he had wrought, the malicious fellow shouted out to the crowdwhich had gathered around them that Cardan persisted in his infamousslanders against the Governor. Wanton as the charge was, Cardan felt thatwith his present unpopularity it might easily grow into a fatal danger. Might was right in Milan as far as he was concerned, but he determinedthat he must make a stand against this pestilent fellow. By good luck hemet some friends, to whom he told the adventure; and while he wasspeaking, the gentleman who was said to have threatened him, and theslanderous physician as well, joined the gathering; whereupon one ofCardan's friends repeated the whole story to the gentleman; who, as he wasquite unversed in letters, was hugely diverted at hearing himself set downas a student, and told the physician that he was a fool, therebydelivering Cardan at least from this annoyance. 

He had refused the terms which the party opposed to him in the Senate atBologna had sent for his acceptance, and was still waiting to hear whetherthey would carry out their original propositions. It was during this timeof suspense that he was subjected to strange and inexplicable treatment atthe hands of the Milanese Senate, treatment which, viewed by the light ofhis own report--the only one extant--seems very harsh and unjust. Hewrites: "At the time when I was greatly angered by the action of theBolognese agent, four of the Senators persuaded me to seek practice oncemore in Milan, wherefore I, having altered my plans, began to try to earnan honest living, for I reckoned that the Senate of Milan knew that I hadrejected the offers from Bologna, since these offers were unjust inthemselves, and put before me in unjust fashion. But afterwards, althoughthe same iniquitous terms were offered to me, I accepted them, not indeedbecause I was satisfied therewith, but because of my necessity, and sothat I might be free from those dangers which, as I have before stated, pressed upon me in those days. The reason why I took this step was thatthe Senate, by most unexpected action, removed my name from the lists ofthose licensed to teach; nor was this all. They warned me by a messagethat they had recently given hearing to a double charge against me of verygrave offences, and that nothing but my position, and the interests of theCollege, kept them back from laying me in hold. Nevertheless, influencedby these considerations, they had been moved to reduce my punishment tothat of exile. But neither my good fortune nor God deserted me; for on thesame day certain things came to pass by means of which I was able, with asingle word, to free myself from all suspicion upon either charge, and toprove my innocence. Moreover, I forced them to admit that no mention ofthis affair had ever been made before the Senate, although two graduateshad informed me that it had been discussed. "[211]

The Senate, however, was reluctant to stultify its late action, andrefused to restore Cardan's name to the list of teachers. But he was putright in the sight of the world by the sharp censure pronounced by theSenate upon those busy-bodies who had ventured to speak in its name. Cardan's last days in Milan were cheered with a brief gleam of goodfortune. His foes seem to have overshot the mark, and to have arousedsympathy for the old man, who, whatever his faults, was alike an honour tohis country and the victim of fortune singularly cruel. The city took himunder its protection, assured of his innocence as to the widespreadcharges against him, and pitying his misfortunes. His friend Borromeo hadprobably been forwarding his interests at the Papal Court, for he recordsthat, just at this time, certain Cardinals and men of weight wrote to himfrom Rome in kindly and flattering terms. On November 16, 1562, themessenger from the Senate of Bologna arrived at Milan, bearing an offer ofslightly more liberal terms. They were not so favourable as Cardan wishedfor; but, even had they been worse, he would probably have closed withthem. In spite of the benevolent attitude of his well-wishers in Milan, itirked him to be there; the faces in the streets, the town gossip, alltended to recall to him the death of his son, so he departed at once totake up his duties. 

At Bologna Cardan went first to live in a hired house in the Via Gombru. Aldo was nominally a member of his household; but his presence must havebeen a plague rather than a comfort to his father, and he took with himlikewise his orphan grandson, the son of Gian Battista and Brandonia, whomhe destined to make his heir on account of Aldo's ill conduct. [212] Thisyoung man seems to have been a hopeless scoundrel from the first. Theratio in which fathers apportion their affection amongst their offspringis a very capricious one, and Cardan may have been fully as wide of themark in chiding his younger as he was in lauding the talents and virtuesof his elder son. But it is certain that on several occasions theauthorities shared Cardan's view of Aldo's ill behaviour. More than oncehe alludes to the young reprobate's shameful conduct, and the intolerableannoyance caused by the same. Many of the ancient rights of parents overtheir children, which might to-day be deemed excessive, were stilloperative in the cities of Italy, and Cardan readily invoked the help ofthem in trying to work reformation of a sort upon Aldo, whom he caused tobe imprisoned more than once, and finally to be banished. [213] Thenumerous hitches which delayed his final call to Bologna were probably dueto the fact that a certain party amongst the teachers there were opposedto his appointment, and things did not run too smoothly after he had takenup his residence in his new home. It was not in Cardan's nature, howevermuch he may have been cowed and broken down by misfortune, to mix with meninimical to himself without letting them have a taste of his quality. Herecords one skirmish which he had with Fracantiano, the Professor of thePractice of Medicine, a skirmish which, in its details, resembles soclosely his encounter with Branda Porro, at Pavia, some time before, thatit suggests a doubt whether it ever had a separate existence, and was notsimply a variant of the Branda legend. "It happened that he (Fracantiano)was giving an account of the passage of the gall into the stomach, and wasspeaking in Greek before the whole Academy (he was making the while ananatomical dissection), when I cried out, 'There is an "[Greek: ou]"wanting in that sentence. ' And as he delayed making any correction of hiserror, and I kept on repeating my remark in a low voice, the studentscried out, 'Let the _Codex_ be sent for. ' Fracantiano sent for it gladly. It was brought at once, and when he came to read the passage, he foundthat what I had affirmed was true to a hair. He spake not another word, being overwhelmed with confusion and astonishment. Moreover the students, who had almost compelled me to come to the lecture, were even moreimpressed by what had happened. But from that day forth my opponentavoided all meeting with me; nay, he even gave orders to his servants thatthey should warn him whenever they might see me approaching, and thus hecontrived that we should never foregather. One day when he was teachingAnatomy, the students brought me, by a trick, into the room, whereupon hestraightway fled, and having entangled his feet in his robe, he fell downheadlong. This accident caused no little confusion, and shortly afterwardshe left the place, being then a man well advanced in years. "[214]

He had not lived long in Bologna before he was fated to experience anotherrepetition of one of the untoward episodes of his past life, to wit thefall of a house. It was not his own house this time, but it wassufficiently near to induce him to change his abode without delay. Nextdoor to the house he had hired in the Via Gombru stood a palace belongingto a certain Gramigna. "The entire house fell, and was ruined in a singlenight, and together with the house perished the owner thereof. " It wasbelieved that this man had divers powerful enemies, and, in order that hemight secure his position, he contrived to bring certain of his foes intohis house, having first made a mine of gunpowder under the portico, andset a match thereto. But for some reason or other the plot miscarried thenight when he destined to carry it out. Gramigna went to see what wasamiss, and at that very moment the mine exploded and brought the house tothe ground. After this explosion Cardan moved to a house in the Galeraquarter, belonging to the family of Ranucci; but he did not find thisdwelling perfect, as he was forced to vacate the rooms which were most tohis taste on account of the bad state of the ceilings, the plaster ofwhich, more than once, fell down upon his head. 

In his _Paralipomena_, "the last fruit off an old tree, " which he puttogether about this time, there are numerous stories of prodigies andportents; of doors which would not close, and doors which opened of theirown accord; of rappings on the walls, and of mysterious thunderings andnoises during the night. He tells, at length, the story, already referredto, of the strange thing which happened to him, on the eve of hisdeparture from Pavia in 1562, while he was awaiting tidings from Rome asto his appointment at Bologna. "I wore on the index finger of my righthand a selenite stone set in a ring, and on my left a jacinth, which Inever took off my finger, this stone being large and hexagonal in shape. I took the selenite from my finger and put it beneath my pillow, for Ifancied it kept off sleep, wearing still the jacinth because it appearedto have the opposite effect. I slept until midnight, when I awoke andmissed the ring from my left hand. I called Jacopo Antonio, a boy offifteen years of age who acted as my servant and slept in a truckle bed, and bade him look for my rings. He found the selenite at once where I hadplaced it; but though we both of us sought closely for the jacinth wecould not find it. I was sorrowful to death on account of this omen, anddespair seized upon my soul when I remembered the dire consequences ofsimilar signs, all of which I had duly noted in my writings. I couldscarcely believe this to be a thing happening in the order of nature. After a short delay I collected my thoughts, and told the servant to bringa light from the hearth. He replied that he would rather not do this, thathe was afraid of the darkness, and that the fire was always extinguishedin the evening. I bade him light a candle with the flint, when he told methat we had neither matches nor tinder nor sulphur. I persisted, anddetermined that a light should be got by one means or another, for I knewthat, if I should go to sleep under so dire an omen, I must needs perish. So I ordered him to get a light as best he could. He went away and rakedup the ashes, and found a bit of coal about the bigness of a cherry allalight, and caught hold of it with the tongs. At the same time I hadlittle hope of getting a light, but he applied it to the wick of a lampand blew thereon. The wick was lighted without any flame issuing from thelive coal, which thing seemed to me a further marvel. "

After a search with the candle the ring was found on the floor under themiddle of the bed, but the marvel was not yet worked out: the ring couldnot possibly have got into such a place unless it had been put there byhand. It could not have rolled there, on account of its shape, nor couldit have fallen from the bed, because the pillow was closely joined to thehead of the bed, round which ran a raised edge with no rift therein. Cardan concludes: "I know that much may be said over this matter, butnothing, forsooth, which will convince a man, ever so little inclined tosuperstition, that there was no boding sign manifested thereby, foretelling the ruin of my position and good name. Then, having soothed mymind, albeit I was well-nigh hopeless, I consoled myself with the beliefthat God still protected me. " After pondering long and anxiously over thepossible significance of this sign he took a more sanguine view of thefuture. He next put the jacinth ring on his finger and bade the boy try topull it off, but he tried in vain, so well and closely did the ring fitthe finger. From this time forth Cardan laid aside this ring, after havingworn it for many years as a safeguard against lightning, plague, wakefulness, and palpitation of the heart. [215]

Many other instances of a like character might be given from the_Paralipomena_; but the foregoing will suffice to show that the naturalinclination of Cardan's temper towards the marvellous had been aggravatedby his recent troubles. Also the belief that all men's hands were againsthim never slumbered, but for this disposition there may well have beensome justification. Scarcely had he settled in Bologna before an intriguewas set in motion against him. "After the events aforesaid, and after Ihad gone to teach in Bologna, my adversaries, by a trick, managed todeprive me of the use of a class-room, that is to say they allotted to mean hour just about the time of dinner, or they gave the class-room at thevery same hour, or a little earlier, to another teacher. When I perceivedthat the authorities were unwilling to accede to three distinctpropositions which I made to them, namely, that this other teacher shouldbegin his lecture sooner and leave off sooner: or that he should teachalternately with me: I so far got my own way at the next election that theother lecturer had to do his teaching elsewhere. "[216]

It would appear that the intrigues, of which Cardan gives so manyinstances, must have been the work of certain individuals, jealous of hisfame and perhaps smarting under some caustic speech or downright insult, rather than of the authorities; the Senate of Bologna showed no hostilityto him, but on the other hand procured for him the privileges ofcitizenship. While the negotiations were going on at Bologna for thefurther regulation of his position as a teacher, he tells a strange storyhow, on three or four different occasions, certain men came to him bynight, in the name of the Senate and of the Judicial officers, and triedto induce him to recommend that a certain woman, who had been condemnedfor blasphemy, and for poisoning or witchcraft as well, should bepardoned, both by the temporal and spiritual authorities, bringing forwardspecially the argument that, in the sight of philosophers, such things asdemons and spirits did not exist. They likewise urged him to procure therelease from prison of another woman, who had not yet been condemned, because a certain sick man had died under the hands of some other doctors. They brought also a lot of nativities for him to read, as if he had beena soothsayer, and not a teacher of medicine, but he would have nothing tosay to them. [217]

It is somewhat strange that Cardan should have detected no trace of thesnare of the enemy in this manoeuvre. Bearing in mind the character of therequest made, and the fact that Cardan was by no means a _persona grata_to the petitioners, it seems highly probable that they might have beenmore anxious to draw from Cardan a profession of his disbelief inwitchcraft, than to procure the enlargement of the accused persons whosecause they had nominally espoused. At this period it was indeed dangerousto be a wizard, but it was perhaps still more dangerous to pose as anavowed sceptic of witchcraft. At the end of the fifteenth century thefrequency of executions for sorcery in the north of Italy had provoked astrong outburst of popular feeling against this wanton bloodshed; butSpina, writing in the interest of orthodox religion, deplores thatdisbelief in the powers of Evil and their manifestations, alwaysrecognized by the Church, should have led men on to profess by theiraction any doubt as to the truth of witchcraft. But in spite of thefulminations of men of this sort, from this time onwards the moreenlightened scholars of Europe began to modify their opinions on thesubject of demoniac possession, and of witchcraft in general. The firstbook in which the new views were enunciated was the treatise _DePræstigiis Dæmonum_, by Johann Wier, a physician of Cleves, published in1563. The step in advance taken by this reformer was not a revolutionaryone. He simply denied that witches were willing and conscious instrumentsof the malefic powers, asserting that what evil they wrought came about byreason of the delusions with which the evil spirits infected the personssaid to be possessed. The devil afflicted his victims directly, and thenthrew the suspicion of the evil deed upon some old woman. Wier's book wascondemned and denounced by the clergy--he himself was a Protestant--butthe most serious counterblast against it came from the pen of Jean Bodin, the illustrious French philosopher and jurist. He held up Wier toexecration as an impious blasphemer, and asserted that the welfare ofChristendom must needs suffer great injury through the dissemination ofdoctrines so detestable as those set forth in his book. [218]

Seeing that such a spirit was dominant in the minds of men like Bodin, itwill be evident that a charge of impiety or atheism might well follow aprofession of disbelief, or even scepticism, as to the powers of witchesor of evil spirits. A maxim familiar as an utterance of Sir Thomas Browne, "Ubi tres medici duo athei, " was, no doubt, in common use in Cardan'stime; and he, as a doctor, would consequently be ill-looked upon by thechampions of orthodoxy, who would certainly not be conciliated by the factthat he was the friend of Cardinal Morone. This learned and enlightenedprelate had been imprisoned by the savage and fanatical Paul IV. , on acharge of favouring opinions analogous to Protestantism, but Pius IV. , theeasy-going Milanese jurisconsult, turned ecclesiastic, enlarged him by oneof the first acts of his Papacy, and restored him to the charge of thediocese of Modena. 

Besides enjoying at Bologna the patronage of princes of the Church likeBorromeo and Morone, Cardan found there an old friend in LudovicoFerrari, who was at this time lecturing on mathematics. He also receivedinto his house a new pupil, a Bolognese youth named Rodolfo Sylvestro, whowas destined hereafter to bring as great credit to his teacher's name inMedicine as Ferrari had already brought thereto in Mathematics. Rodolfoproved to be one of the most faithful and devoted of friends; he remainedat Bologna as long as Cardan continued to live there, sharing his master'sill-fortune, and ultimately accompanied him to Rome in 1571. He gives thenames of two other Bolognese students, Giulio Pozzo and Camillo Zanolino, but of all his surviving pupils he rates Sylvestro as the most gifted. 

The records of Cardan's life at this period are scant and fragmentary, fewevents being chronicled except dreams and portents. In giving an accountof one of these manifestations, which happened in September 1563, heincidentally lets light upon certain changes and vicissitudes in his ownaffairs. He was at this time living in an apartment in the house of theRanucci, next door to a half-ruined palace of the Ghislieri. One night heawoke from sleep, and found that the neck-band of his shirt had becomeentangled with the cord by which he kept his precious emerald and awritten charm suspended round his neck. He tried to disentangle the knot, but in vain, so he left the complication as it was, purposing to unravelit by daylight. He did not fall asleep; but, after lying quiet for alittle, he determined to attempt once more whether he could undo the knot, when he found that everything was clear, and the stone under his armpit. "This sign showed me an unhoped-for solution of certain weightydifficulties, and at the same time proved, as I have often said elsewhere, that there must have been present something else unperceived by me. Formy affairs were in this condition: my son-in-law at Milan had theadministration of the scant remains of my property, and I received norents therefrom for a whole year. My literary work was lying at theprinter's, but it was not printed. Here, at Bologna, I was forced tolecture without having a fixed hour assigned to me. A crowd of enemieswere intriguing against me. My son Aldo was in prison, and of littleprofit to me. But immediately after this portent I learned that my twochief opponents were either dying or about to retire. The question of thelecture-room was settled amicably, so that for the next year I was able tolive in quiet. These two matters having come to an issue, I will nextdescribe what came to pass with regard to the others. 

"During the next July (1564), through the help of Francesco Alciati, [219]the secretary of Pope Pius IV. , a man to whom I am indebted for almostevery benefit I have received since 1561, I began to enjoy my own again. On August 26 I received from the printer my books all printed with thegreatest care, and by reason of the dispatch of this business my incomewas greatly increased. The next day my chief opponent resigned his office, and left vacant a salary of seven hundred gold crowns. The onlymanifestation of adverse fortune left to trouble me was the conspiracy ofthe doctors against me, but there were already signs that this woulddisappear before long, and in sooth it came to an end after the lapse ofanother year. "[220]

During this portion of his life at Bologna, Cardan seems to have livedcomparatively alone, and to have spent his weary leisure in brooding overhis sorrows. He began his long rambling epilogue to the _De LibrisPropriis_, and, almost on the threshold, pours out his sorrow afresh overGian Battista's unhappy fate. After affirming that Death must necessarilycome as a friend to those whose lives are wretched, he begins to speculatewhether, after all, he ought not to rejoice rather than mourn over hisson's death. "Certes he is rid of this miserable life of danger anddifficulty, vain, sorrowful, brief, and inconstant; these times in whichthe major part of the good things of the world fall to the trickster'sshare, and all may be enjoyed by those who are backed up by wealth orpower or favour. Power is good when it is in the hands of those who use itwell, but it is a great evil when murderers and poisoners are allowed towield it. To the ill-starred, to the ungodly, and to the foolish, death isa boon, freeing them from numberless dangers, from heavy griefs, fromfatal troubles, and from infamy; wherefore in such cases it ought not tobe spoken of as something merely good or indifferent, but rated as thebest of fortune. Shall I not declare to God (for He willed the deed), tomyself, and to my surviving family, that my son's death was a thing to bedesired, for God does all justly, wisely, and lovingly? He lets me standas an example to show others that a good and upright man cannot bealtogether wretched. I am poor, infirm, and old; bereaved by a cruel wrongof my best-loved son, a youth of the fairest promise, and left only withthe faintest hope of any ray of future good fortune, or of seeing my raceperpetuated after my death, for my daughter, who has been nine yearsmarried, is barren. 

"At one time I was prosperous in every relation of life: in myfriendships, in my children, and in my health. In my youth I seemed to beone raised up to realize the highest hopes. I was accustomed to all thegood things--nay, to all the luxuries of life. Now I am wretched, despised, with foes swarming around me; I not only count myself miserable, I feel I am far more miserable now than I was happy aforetime. Yet Ineither lose my wits nor make any boast, as my actions prove. I do my workas a teacher with my mind closely set on the matter in question, and forthis reason I attract a large number of hearers. I manage my affairsbetter than heretofore; and, if any man shall compare the book which Ihave lately published with those which I wrote some time ago, he will notfail to perceive how vastly my intellect has gained in richness, invivacity, and in purity. "

Though the note of sorrow or even of despair is perceptible in thesesentences, there is no sign that the virile and elastic spirit of thewriter is broken. But there are manifest signs of an increasing tendencytowards mental detachment from the world which had used him so ill. Withthe happiest of men the almost certain prospect of extinction at the endof a dozen years usually tends to foster the growth of a conviction thatthe world after all is a poor affair, and that to quit it is no greatevil. How strongly therefore must reflections of a kindred nature haveworked upon a man so cruelly tried as Cardan!

FOOTNOTES:

[211] _Opera_, tom. X. P. 462. 

[212] "Sed filius minor natu adeò malè se gessit, ut malim transire innepotem ex primo filio. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvi. P. 112. 

[213] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxvii. P. 71. 

[214] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xii. P. 40. 

[215] _Opera_, tom. X. P. 459. 

[216] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xvii. P. 56. 

[217] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxiii. P. 104. 

[218] This opinion prevailed with men of learning far into the nextcentury. Sir Thomas Browne writes: "They that doubt of these, do not onlydeny them, but spirits; and are obliquely and upon consequence a sect notof infidels, but atheists. "--_Religio Medici, Works_, vol. Ii. P. 89. 

[219] This was the Cardinal, the nephew of Andrea the great jurist, whowas also a good friend of Cardan. 

[220] _Opera_, tom. X. P. 463. 

CHAPTER XII

AT the beginning of the year 1565 Cardan had a narrow escape from death byburning, for his bed from some unknown cause caught fire twice in the samenight while he was asleep. The servant was disturbed by the smoke, andhaving aroused his master, told him what was amiss, whereupon Cardan flewinto a violent rage, for he deemed that the youth must be drunk. But hesoon perceived the danger, and then they both set to work to extinguishthe flames. His own description of the occurrence is highlycharacteristic. "Having put out the fire, I settled myself again to sleep, and, while I was dreaming of alarms, and that I was flying from somedanger, it happened that either these terrifying dreams, or the fire andsmoke again aroused me, and, looking around, I found that the bed was oncemore alight, and the greater part of it consumed. The vari-colouredcoverlet, the leather hangings, and all the covering of the bed wasunhurt. Thus this great alarm and danger and serious disturbance causedonly a trifling loss; less than half of the bed-linen was burnt, but theblankets were entirely consumed. On the first alarm the flames burnt outtwice or thrice with little smoke, and caused scarcely any damage. Thesecond time the fire and the mishap forced me to rise just before dawn, the fire lasting altogether about seven hours. "

There was naturally a warning sign to be found in this accident. [221] Thesmoke, Cardan said, denoted disgrace; the fire, peril and fear; the flame, a grave and pressing danger to his life. The smouldering fire signifiedsecret plots which were to be put into execution against him by hisservants while he lay in bed. And the fact that he set fire to the bedhimself, denoted that he would be able to meet any coming danger alone andwithout assistance. The indictment against him was foreshadowed by thefire and the flames and the smoke. Poison and assault were not to befeared. Men might indeed ask questions as to what kind of danger it couldbe which only arose from those about him, and fell short of poison andviolence. The fire, he goes on to say, signifies the Magistrate. More thanonce it seemed to be extinct, but it always revived. Danger seemed tothreaten him less from open hostility than from the cunning flattery offoes, and from over-confidence on his own part. His books, which he hadlately caused to be printed, appeared to be in grave peril, but a graverone overhung his life. He deemed that he would quit the tribunal condemnedby the empty scandal of the crowd, suffering no slight loss, and worstedchiefly through putting faith in false friends, and through his owninstability. On the whole, the loss would prove inconsiderable; the dangermoderate, but the vexation exceedingly heavy. These results might havesprung from causes other than natural ones; but, on the other hand, suchthings often come about through chance. They might prove to be a warningto him to keep clear of hostile prejudice, and to make friends of thosein authority, care being taken not to let himself become involved in theirprivate affairs, and not to seek too close an acquaintance. [222]

Up to this date, Cardan, when he visited his patients, had either walkedor ridden a mule. In 1562 he began to use a carriage, but this change ofhabit brought ill luck with it, for, in this same year, his horses ranaway; he was thrown out of the vehicle, and sustained an injury to one ofthe fingers of his right hand, and to the right arm as well. [223] Thefinger soon healed, but the damage to the right arm shifted itself over tothe left side, leaving the right arm sound. The foregoing details, takenchiefly from the _Paralipomena_ (Book III. Ch. Xii. ), are somewhatsignificant in respect to the serious trouble which came upon him soonafterwards. 

Though he had now secured a class-room for himself, the malice of hisenemies was not yet abated. Just before the end of his term, certain ofthem went to Cardinal Morone and told him that it would be inexpedient toallow Cardan to retain his Professorship any longer, seeing that scarcelyany pupils went to listen to him. The terms Cardan used in describing thishostile movement against him, [224] rouse a suspicion that there may havebeen some ground for the assertion of his adversaries; but he declaresthat, at any rate, he had a good many pupils from the beginning of thesession up to the time of Lent. He gives no clue whereby the date of thisintrigue may be exactly ascertained, but it probably happened near the endof his sojourn at Bologna, because in his account of it he describeslikewise the cessation of his public teaching, and makes no mention of anyresumption of the same. He declares that he was at last overborne by themultitude of his foes, and their cunning plots. Under the pretence that, in seeking Cardan's removal, they were really acting for his benefit, theysucceeded in bringing Cardinal Morone round to their views. Cardan's finalwords in dealing with this matter help to fix the date of this episode assome time in 1570. Speaking of his enemies, he writes: "Nay indeed theyhave given me greater leisure for the codification of my books, they havelengthened my days, they have increased my fame, and, by procuring myremoval from the work which was too laborious for me, they secured for methe pleasure I now enjoy in the discovery and investigation of divers ofthe secrets of Nature. Therefore I constantly tell myself that I do nothate these men, nor deem them blameworthy, because they wrought me an illturn, but because of the malignancy they had in their hearts. "[225]

It is almost certain that this removal of Cardan from his office ofteacher was part and parcel of a carefully-devised plot against him, and aprelude to more serious trouble in the near future. Early in April 1570 hehad occasion to put into writing a certain medical opinion which was to besent to Cardinal Morone. He describes the episode: "It chanced that one ofthe sheets of my manuscript fell from the table down upon the floor, andthen flew by itself up to the cornice of the room, where it hung, fixed tothe woodwork. Greatly amazed, I called for Rodolfo, and pointed out to himthis marvel. He did not indeed see it fly up, and at that time I wasignorant as to what it might foretell, for I had no foreboding of the manyills which were about to molest me. But now I see that the meaning of thisportent must have been that, after the approaching shipwreck of myfortunes, my bark would be sped along with a more favouring breeze. It wasduring the month following, unless I am mistaken, that, when I was oncemore writing a letter to Cardinal Morone, I looked for a certainpowder-box which had been missing for some long time, and, when I liftedup a sheet of paper in order to powder it with dust gathered up from thefloor of the room, there was the powder-box, hidden beneath the sheet. Howcould it have come there on the level writing-desk? This sign confirmedthe hope I had already conceived of the Cardinal's wisdom and humanity;that he would plead with the Pope, the best of men, in such wise that Ishould find a prosperous end to my toilsome life. "[226]

The blow thus foreshadowed fell on October 6, 1570, when he was suddenlyarrested and put under restraint. He speaks of a bond which he gave foreighteen hundred gold crowns; and says that, while he was in hold, all hisestate was administered by the civil authorities. Rodolfo Sylvestro wasconstantly with him during his incarceration, and on January 1, 1571, hewas released, just at nightfall, and allowed to return to his own house. While he was in prison in the month of October some mysterious knockingsat the door supplied him with a fulfilment and explanation of theportents lately chronicled. The knockings appeared furthermore to warn himof approaching death, and he began to bewail his misery; but, havinggathered courage, he heartened himself to face his doom, which could benothing worse than death. Young men, leaders of armies, courted death inbattle to win the favour of their sovereigns; wherefore he, a decrepit oldman, might surely await his end with calmness. He then wanders off into along disquisition on the philosophy of Polybius, and forgets entirely toset down further details of his imprisonment, or to explain the causethereof. 

Pius IV. Had died at the end of 1565, and had been succeeded by MicheleGhislieri, the Cardinal of Alessandria, as Pius V. Like his predecessor, the new Pope was a Milanese by birth, but in character and aims the twoPopes were entirely different. Pius. V. Identified himself completely withthe work of the Holy Office, and straightway set in operation all itspowers for the extirpation of the heretical opinions which, on account ofthe easy-going character of the late Pope, had made much progress inItaly, and nowhere more than in Bologna. Von Ranke, in the _History of thePopes_, gives an extract (vol. I. P. 97) from the compendium of theInquisitors, which sets forth that "Bologna was in a very perilous state, because there the heretics were especially numerous; amongst them was acertain Gian Battista Rotto, who enjoyed the friendship and support ofmany persons of weight, such as Morone, Pole, and the Marchesa Pescara(Vittoria Colonna). Rotto made himself very active in collecting money, which he distributed amongst the poor folk of Bologna who were heretics. "

It will be remembered that in 1562, while he was waiting in Milan for theappointment as Professor at Bologna, Cardan submitted his books to theCongregation of the Index for approval. He was known to be afellow-citizen and friend of the reigning Pope: the _corpus_ of his workhad by that time reached a portentous size, wherefore it is quite possiblethat the official readers may have been lenient, or cursory, over theirwork; but when Pius V. , the strenuous ascetic foe of heresy, stepped intothe place of the indolent Pius IV. , jurist and politician rather thanChurchman, it is more than probable that certain amateur inquisitors atBologna, fully as anxious to work Cardan's ruin as to safeguard the faith, may have busied themselves in hunting through his various works forpassages upon which to base a charge of unorthodoxy. Such passages werenot hard to find. There was the horoscope of Jesus Christ, whichsubsequently affronted the piety of De Thou. There was the passage alreadynoticed in which he said such hard things of the Dominicans (_De VarietateRerum_, 1557, p. 572). He had indeed disclaimed it, but there it stoodunexpunged in the subsequent editions of the book; and, while consideringthis detail, it may be remarked that Pius V. Began his career as a memberof the Dominican Order, the practices of which Cardan had impugned. In thefirst and second editions of the _De Subtilitate_ was another passage inwhich the tenets of Islam and the circumstances of the birth of Christwere handled in a way which caused grave scandal and offence. [227] Thispassage indeed was expunged in the edition of 1560. The _Paralipomena_were not in print and available, but what can be read in them to-daydoubtless reflects with accuracy the attitude of Cardan's mind towardsreligious matters in 1570. Though the _Paralipomena_ were locked in hisdesk, it is almost certain that the spirit with which they were inspiredwould have infected Cardan's brain, and prompted him to repeat in wordsthe views on religion and a future state which he had already put onpaper, for he rarely let discretion interfere with the enunciation of anyopinion he favoured. In the _Paralipomena_ are many passages written inthe spirit of universalism, and treating of the divine principle assomething which animates wise men alone, wise men and philosophers ofevery age and every clime, Aristotle being the head and chief. Plato andSocrates and the Seven Sages adorn this illustrious circle, which includeslikewise the philosophers of Chaldea and Egypt. Opinions like these wereno longer the passport to Papal favour or even toleration. The age of thehumanist Popes was past, and the Puritan movement, stimulated into life bythe active competition of the Reformers, was beginning to show itsstrength, so that a man who spoke in terms of respect or reverenceconcerning Averroes or Plato would put himself in no light peril. Thus forthose of Cardan's enemies who were minded to search and listen it musthave been an easy task to formulate against him a charge of heresy, specious enough to carry conviction to such a burning zealot as Pius V. This Pope, in his new regulations for the maintenance of Churchdiscipline, requisitioned the services of physicians in the detection oflaxity of religious practices, or of unsoundness. "We forbid, " he says inone of his bulls, "every physician, who may be called to the bedside of apatient, to visit for more than three days, unless he receives anattestation that the sick man has made fresh confession of his sins. "[228]Cardan, with his irritable temper, may very likely have treated thisregulation as an unwarrantable interference with his profession, and havepaid no attention to it. Again, he evidently followed Hippocrates inrejecting the supernatural origin of disease; a position greatly inadvance of that held by certain of the leading physiologists of thetime. [229] Thus in more ways than one he may have laid himself open tosome charge of disrespect shown to religion or to the spiritual powers. The absence of any other specific accusation and the circumstances of hisincarceration, taken in conjunction with the foregoing considerations, almost compel the conclusion that his arrest and imprisonment in 1570 werebrought about by a charge of impiety whispered by some envious tonguewhich will never now be identified. The sanction given by the authoritiesof the Church to his writings in 1562, operated without doubt to mitigatethe punishment which fell upon him, and suffered him, after due purgationof his offences, to enjoy for the residue of his days a life comparativelyquiet and prosperous under the patronage of Pius V. 

Though he was let out of prison he was not yet a free man. For some twelveweeks longer he remained a prisoner in his own house, the bond foreighteen hundred gold crowns having doubtless been given on this account. Almost his last reflection about his life at Bologna is one in which herecords his satisfaction that all the men who plotted against him theremet their death soon after their attempt, thus sharing the fate of hisenemies at Milan and Pavia. If he is to be believed in this matter, theFates, though they might not shield him from attack, proved themselves tobe diligent and remorseless avengers of his wrongs. At the end ofSeptember he turned his back upon Bologna and the cold hospitality it hadgiven him, and set forth on his last journey. He travelled by easy stages, and entered Rome on October 7, 1571, the day upon which Don John ofAustria annihilated the Turkish fleet at Lepanto. 

There are evidences in his later writings beyond those already cited, thatCardan's views on religion had undergone change during his sojourn atBologna. It was the custom, even with theologians of the time, toillustrate freely from the classics, wherefore the spectacle of the namesof the great men of Greek and Roman letters, scattered thickly about thepages of any book, would not prove or even suggest unorthodoxy. Cardanquotes Plato or Aristotle or Plotinus twenty times for any saint in theCalendar. He does not mention the Virgin more than once or twice in thewhole of the _De Vita Propria_; and, in discoursing on the immortality ofthe soul, he cites the opinion of Avicenna, but makes no mention of eithersaint or father. [230] The world of classic thought was immeasurably nearerand more real to Cardan than it can be to any modern dweller beyond theAlps: to him there had been no solution of continuity between classictimes and his own. When he sat down to write in the _Theonoston_ hismeditations on the death of his son, in the vain hope of reapingconsolation therefrom, he invoked the golden rule of Plotinus, which laysdown that the future is foreseen and arranged by the gods. Being thusarranged, it must needs be just, for God is the highest expression ofjustice. Against a fate thus settled for us we have no right to complain, lest we should seem to be setting ourselves into opposition to God's will. Here, although he writes in the spirit of a Christian, the authority citedis that of a heathen philosopher, and the form of his meditations is takenrather from Seneca than from father or schoolman. The devotional bias ofCardan's nature seems to have been strengthened temporarily by theterrible experiences of Gian Battista's trial and death; but in the courseof his residence at Bologna a marked reaction set in, and the ferventreligious outburst, in which he sought consolation during his intolerablesorrow, was succeeded by a calmer mood which regarded the necessary evilsof life as transitory accidents, and death as the one and certain end ofsorrow, and perhaps of consciousness as well. What he wrote during hisresidence in Rome he kept in manuscript; his recent experience at Bolognawarned him that, living under the shadow of the Vatican with Pius V. Asthe ruler thereof, it behoved him to walk as an obedient son of theChurch. 

Cardan went first to live in the Piazza di San Girolamo, not far from thePorto del Popolo, but subsequently he lived in a house in the Via Giulianear the church of Santa Maria di Monserrato, where probably he died. Hehad not long been settled in Rome before he was able to add a freshsupernatural experience to his already overburdened list. In the month ofAugust 1572 he was lying awake one night with a lamp burning, whensuddenly he heard a loud noise to the right of the chamber, as if a cartladen with planks was being unloaded. He looked up, and, the door beingopen at the time, he perceived a peasant entering the room. Just as hewas on the threshold the intruder uttered the words, "_Te sin casa_, " andstraightway vanished. This apparition puzzled him greatly, and he alludesto it again in chapter xlvii. Of the _De Vita Propria_. Ultimately hedismisses it with the remark that the explanation of such phenomena israther the duty of theologians than of philosophers. 

With regard to matters of religious belief he seems to have taken as arule of conduct the remark above written, and left them to the care ofprofessional experts, for very few of his recorded opinions throw anylight upon his views of the dogmas and doctrines of the Church. Whateverthe tenor of these opinions may have been, he never proclaimed themdefinitely. Probably they interested him little, for he was not the man tokeep silent over a subject which he had greatly at heart. He gave ageneral assent to the teaching of the Church, taking up the mentalattitude of the vast majority of the learned men of his time, and expectedthat the Church would do all that was necessary for him in its ownparticular province. If he regarded Erasmus and Luther as disturbers ofthe faith and heretics, he did not say so, nor did he censure theiractivity. (Erasmus he praises highly in the opening words of the horoscopewhich he drew for him. --_Gen. Ex. , _ p. 496. ) But he had certainly nodesire to emulate them or give them his support. The world of letters andscience was wide enough even for his active spirit; the world lying behindthe veil he left to the exploration of those inquirers who might have ataste for such a venture. Still every page of his life's record shows howstrong was his bent towards the supernatural; but the phase of thesupernatural which he chose for study was one which Churchmen, as a rule, had let alone. Spirits wandering about this world were of greater momentto him than spirits fixed in beatitude or bane in the next; andaccordingly, whenever he finds an opportunity, he discourses ofapparitions, lamiæ, incubi, succubi, malignant and beneficent genii, andthe methods of invoking them. Now that old age was pressing heavily uponhim and he began to yearn for support, he sought consolation not in theecstatic vision of the fervent Catholic, but in fostering the belief thathe was in sooth under the protection of some guardian spirit like thatwhich had attended his father and divers of the sages of old. Although hehad in his earlier days treated his father's belief with a certain degreeof respect and credence, [231] there is no evidence that he was possessedwith the notion that any such supernatural guardian attended his ownfootsteps at the time when he put together the _De Varietate_; indeed itwould seem that his belief was exactly the opposite. He writes as follows:"It is first of all necessary to know that there is one God, the Author ofall good, by whose power all things were made, and in whose name all goodthings are brought to pass; also, that if a man shall err he need not beguilty of sin. That there is no other to whom we owe anything or whom weare bound to worship or serve. If we keep these sayings with a pure mindwe shall be kept pure ourselves and free from sin. What a demon may be Iknow not, these beings I neither recognize nor love. I worship one God, and Him alone I serve. And in truth these things ought not to be publishedin the hearing of unlearned folk; for, if once this belief in spirits betaken up, it may easily come to pass that they who apply themselves tosuch arts will attribute God's work to the devil. "[232] And in anotherplace: "I of a truth know of no spirit or genius which attends me; butshould one come to me, after being warned of the same in dreams, if itshould be given to me by God, I will still reverence God alone; to Himalone will I give thanks, for any benefit which may befall me, as thebountiful source and principle of all good. And, in sooth, the spirit mayrest untroubled if I repay my debt to our common Master. I know full wellthat He has given to me, for my good genius, reason, patience in trouble, a good disposition, a disregard of money and dignities, which gifts I useto the full, and deem them better and greater possessions than the Demonof Socrates. "[233]

About the Demon of Socrates Cardan has much to say in the _De Varietate_. He never even hints a doubt as to the veracity and sincerity of Socrates. He is quite sure that Socrates was fully persuaded of the reality of hisattendant genius, and favours the view that this belief may have been wellfounded. He takes an agnostic position, [234] confining his positivestatement to an assertion of his own inability to realize the presence ofany ghostly minister attendant upon himself. In the _De Subtilitate_ hetells an experience of his own by way of suggesting that some of thedemons spoken of by the retailers of marvels might be figments of thebrain. In 1550 Cardan was called in to see a certain woman who had longbeen troubled with an obscure disease of the bladder. Every known remedywas tried in vain, when one day a certain Josephus Niger, [235] adistinguished Greek scholar, went to see the patient. Niger, according toCardan's account, was quite ignorant of medicine, but he was reputed to bea skilled master of magic arts. The woman had a son, a boy about ten yearsold, and Josephus having handed him a three-cornered crystal, which he hadwith him, bade the youth secretly to look into it, and then declare, inhis mother's hearing, that he could see in the crystal three very terribledemons going on foot. Then, after Josephus had whispered certain otherwords in the boy's ear, the boy went on to say that he beheld anotherdemon, vastly bigger than the first, riding on horseback and bearing inhis hand a three-tined fork. This monster overthrew the other demons, andled them away captive, bound with chains to his saddlebow. After listeningto these words the woman rapidly got well, and Cardan, in commenting onthe event, declares that she must have been cured either by the agency ofthe demons or by the force of the imagination, inasmuch as it would bedifficult, if not impossible, to invent any other reason of herrecovery. [236] In another passage of the _De Subtilitate_ he displaysjudicious reserve in writing of Demons in general. [237]

During those terrible days, when his son had just died a felon's death, and when he himself was haunted by the real dangers which beset him, andalmost maddened by the signs and tokens which seemed to tell of others tocome, the belief which Fazio his father had nourished easily found alodgment in his shaken and bewildered brain. In the _Dialogus de HumanisConsiliis_, one of the speakers tells of a certain man who is clearlymeant to be Cardan himself. The speaker goes on to say that he is surethis man is attended by a genius, which manifested itself to him somewhatlate in his life. "Aforetime, indeed, it had been wont to convey to himwarnings in dreams and by certain noises. What greater proof of his powercould there be than the cure of this man, without the use of drugs, of anintestinal rupture on the right side? If indeed it had not fared with himthus, after his son's death, he would at once have passed out of thislife, whereby many and great evils might have come to pass. He was freedalso from another troublesome ailment. In sooth, so many and so mighty arethe wonderful things which had befallen him, that I, who am very intimatewith him (and he himself thinks the same), am constrained to believe thathe is attended by a genius, great and powerful and rare, and that he isnot the master of his own actions. What he would have, he has not; andwhat he has, he would not have chosen, or even wished for. This thingcauses him much trouble, but he submits when he reflects that all thingsare God's handiwork. " The speaker ends by saying that he never heard ofany others thus attended, save this man, and his father before him, andSocrates. [238]

But it is in chapter xlvii. Of the _De Vita Propria_, which must have beenwritten shortly before his death, that he lets the reader see most plainlyhow strong was the hold which this belief in a guardian spirit of his ownhad taken upon him. "It is an admitted truth, " he writes, "that attendantspirits have protected certain men, to wit, Socrates, Plotinus, Synesius, Dion, Flavius Josephus, and myself. All of these have enjoyed prosperouslives except Socrates and me, and I, as I have said before, was at onetime offered many and favourable opportunities for the achievement ofhappiness. But C. Cæsar the dictator, Cicero, Antony, Brutus, and Cassiuswere also attended by mighty spirits, albeit malignant. For a long time Ihave been persuaded that I too had one, but by what method it gave meintelligence as to events about to happen, I could not exactly ascertainuntil I reached the seventy-fourth year of my age, the season when I beganto write this record of my life. I now perceive that when I was in Milanin 1557, when my genius perceived what was hanging over me--how that myson on that same evening had promised to marry Brandonia Seroni, and thathe would complete the nuptials the following day--it produced in me thatpalpitation of the heart of which I have already made mention, a weaknessknown to my genius alone, a manifestation which served to simulate atrembling of the bed. "

Cardan writes at length to show that the mysterious knocking which he andRodolfo Sylvestro had heard during his imprisonment at Bologna, thepeasant who entered his bed-chamber saying "_Te sin casa_, " and diversother manifestations, going back as far as 1531--croaking of ravens, barking of dogs, and the ignition of fire-wood--must all have been broughtabout by the working of this powerful spirit. In 1570 there happened tohim one of his everyday experiences of the presence of supernaturalpowers. In the middle of the night he was conscious of some presencewalking about the room. It sat down beside him, and at the same time aloud noise arose from a chest which stood near. This phenomenon, headmits, might well have been the figment of a brain overburdened withthought; but suddenly his memory flies back to an experience of histwentieth year, upon which he proceeds to build a story, wild and fancifuleven for his powers of imagination. "What man was it, " he asks, "who soldme that copy of Apuleius when I was in my twentieth year, and forthwithwent away? I indeed, at that time, had made only one essay in the literaryarena, and had no knowledge of the Latin tongue; but in spite of this, andbecause the book had a gilded cover, I was imprudent enough to buy it. Thevery next day I found myself just as well versed in Latin as I am now. Moreover, almost at the same time I acquired knowledge of Greek andSpanish and French, sufficient for reading books written in theselanguages. "

Cardan was by this time completely possessed by the belief in hisattendant genius, and the flash of memory which recalled the purchase ofsome book or other in his youth, suggested likewise the attribution ofcertain mystic powers to this guardian genius, and conjured up somefanciful explanation as to the way these powers had been exercised uponhimself; he, the person most closely concerned, being entirely unconsciousof their operation at the time when they first affected him. This recordedbelief in a gift of tongues is one of the most convincing bits of evidenceto be gleaned from Cardan's writings of the insanity which undoubtedlyafflicted him, at least periodically, at this crisis of his life. 

FOOTNOTES:

[221] He mentions this matter briefly in the _De Vita Propria_: "Bisarsisset lectus, prædixi me non permansurum Bononiæ, et prima vicerestiti, secunda non potui. "--ch. Xli. P. 151. A fuller account of it isin _Opera_, tom. X. P. 464. 

[222] _Opera_, tom. X. P. 464. 

[223] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxx. P. 80. He seems to have had manyuntoward experiences in driving. He tells of another mishap (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 472) in June 1570; how a fellow, some tipstaff of the courts, jumpedinto his carriage and frightened the mares Cardan was driving, jeering atthem likewise because they were rather bare of flesh. 

[224] "Demum sub conductionis fine, voces sparserunt, et maxime apudMoronum Cardinalem, me exiguo auditorio profiteri, quod quanquam nonomnino verum esset, quinimo ab initio Academiæ multos, et usque ad diesjejunii haberem auditores. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xvii. P. 56. 

[225] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xvii. P. 57. 

[226] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xliii. P. 163. 

[227] "Alii multis diebus abstinent cibo, alii igne uruntur, ac ferrosecantur, nullum doloris vestigium preferentes; multi sunt vocem e pectoremittentes, qui olim engastrimuthi dicebantur; hoc autem maxime eiscontingit cum orgia quædam exercent, atque circumferuntur in orbem. Quætria ut verissima sunt et naturali ratione mira tamen constant, cujussuperius mentionem fecimus, ita illud confictum nasci pueros e mulieribusabsque concubitu. "--_De Subtilitate_, p. 353. 

[228] Ranke, _History of the Popes_, vol. I. P. 246. 

[229] Mr. Stephen Paget in his life of Ambroise Paré, the greatcontemporary French surgeon, gives an interesting account of Paré'sbeliefs on the divine cause of the plague, p. 269. 

[230] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxii. P. 63. 

[231] "Multa de dæmonibus narrabat, quæ quam vera essent nescio. "--_DeUtilitate_, p. 348. 

[232] _De Varietate_, p. 351. 

[233] _Ibid. , _ p. 658. 

[234] In his counsel to his children, he writes: "Do not believe that youhear demons speak to you, or that you behold the dead. Seek not to learnthe truth of these things, for they are amongst the things which arehidden from us. "

[235] Cardan alludes to Niger in _De Varietate_, p. 641: "Referebataliquando Josephus Niger harum rerum maximé peritus, dæmonem pueris se subforma Christi ostendisse, petiisseque ut adoraretur. "

[236] _De Subtilitate_, p. 530. 

[237] "Nolim ego ad trutinam hæc sectari, velut Porphyrius, Psellus, Plotinus, Proclus, Jamblicus, qui copiose de his quæ non videre, veluthistoriam natæ rei scripserunt. "--_De Subtilitate_, p. 540. 

[238] _Opera_, tom. I. 672. 

CHAPTER XIII

AFTER the accusation brought against him at Milan in 1562, Cardan had beenprohibited from teaching or lecturing in that city, and similardisabilities had followed his recent imprisonment at Bologna. At Rome noduties of this kind awaited him, so he had full time to follow hisphysician's calling after taking up his residence there. He records thecure of a noble matron, Clementina Massa, and of Cesare Buontempo, ajurisconsult, both of whom had been suffering for nearly two years. Thecircumstances of his retirement from Bologna would not affect hisreputation as a physician, and he seems to have had in Rome as many oreven more patients than he cared to treat; and in writing in general termsconcerning his successes as a healer, he says: "In all, I restored tohealth more than a hundred patients, given up as incurable in Milan, inBologna, and in Rome. " Of all the friends Cardan had in this closingperiod of his life, none was more useful or benevolent than CardinalAlciati, who, although he had been secretary to Pius IV. , contrived toretain the favour of his successor. This piece of good fortune Alciatiowed to the protection of Carlo Borromeo, who had been his pupil at Pavia, and had procured for him from Pius IV. A bishopric, a cardinal's hat, andthe secretaryship of Dataria. Another of Cardan's powerful friends was thePrince of Matellica, of whom he speaks in terms of praise inflated enoughto be ridiculous, were it not for the accompanying note of pathos. Aftercelebrating the almost divine character of this nobleman, his munificenceand his superhuman abilities, he goes on: "What could there be in me towin the kindly notice of such a patron? Certainly I had done him noservice, nor could he hope I should ever do him any in the future, I, anold man, an outcast of fortune, and prostrated by calamity. In sooth, there was naught about me to attract him; if indeed he found any merit inme, it must have been my uprightness. "

Powerful friends are never superfluous, and Cardan seems to have neededthem in Rome as much as in Bologna. In 1573 he again hints at plotsagainst his life, but almost immediately after recording his suspicions hegoes on to suggest that his danger had arisen chiefly from his ignoranceof the streets of Rome, and from the uncouth manners of the populace. "Many physicians, more cautious than myself, and better versed in thecustoms of the place, have come by their death from similar cause. " Thedanger, whatever its nature, seems to have threatened him as a member ofthe practising faculty at Rome rather than as the persecuted ex-teacher ofPavia and Bologna. Rodolfo Sylvestro was not the only one of his formerassociates near him in his old age, for he notes that Simone Sosia, whohad been his _famulus_ at Pavia in 1562, was still in his service at Rome. 

In reviewing the machinations of his enemies to bring about his dismissalfrom the Professorship at Bologna, Cardan indulges in the reflection thatthese men unwillingly did him good service, that is, they procured himleisure which he might use in the completion of his unfinished works, andin the construction of fresh monuments which he proposed to build up outof the vast store of material accumulated in his industrious brain. Theliterary record of his life in Rome shows that this was no vain saying. Hewas at work on the later chapters of the _De Vita Propria_ up to the lastweeks of his life; and, scattered about these, there are records of hiswork of correction and revising. While telling of the books he has latelybeen engaged with, he wanders off in the same sentence to talk of thedream which urged him to write the _De Subtilitate_, and of the executionof the _Commentarii in Ptolomæum_, during his voyage down the Loire. In1573 he seems to have found the mass of undigested work more than he couldbear to behold; for, after making extracts of such matter as he deemedworth keeping, he consigned to the flames no less than a hundred andtwenty of his manuscripts. [239] Before leaving Bologna he had put intoshape the _Proxenata_, a lengthy collection of hints, maxims, andreflections as to everyday life; he had re-edited the _Liber Artis Magnæ_, and had added thereto the treatise _De Proportionibus_, and the _RegulaAliza_. He also took in hand two books on Geometry, and one on Music, andthis last he completed in 1574. On November 16, 1574, he records that heis at that moment writing an explanation of the more abstruse works ofHippocrates, but that he is yet far from the end of his task. 

In the _De Libris Propriis_ he gives a list of all his published works, and likewise a table of the same arranged in the order in which they oughtto be read. He apologizes for the imperfect state in which some of themare left, and declares that the sight of his unfinished tasks never failsto awaken in his breast a bitter sense of resentment over that loss whichhe had never ceased to mourn. "At one time I hoped, " he writes, "thatthese works would be corrected by my son, but this favour you see has beendenied to me. The desire of my enemies was not to make an end of him, butof me; not by gentle means, in sooth, but by cruel open murder; to let mefall in the very blood of my son. " It is somewhat remarkable that in thismatter Cardan was destined to suffer a disappointment similar to thatwhich he himself brought upon his own father by refusing to qualifyhimself to become the commentator on Archbishop Peckham's _Perspectiva_. He next gives the names of all those who had commended him in their works, and finds a special cause for gratification in the fact that, out of thelong list set down, only four or five were known to him personally, andthese not intimately. There is, however, another short list of censors;and of these he affirms that a certain Brodeus alone is worthy of respect. Of Buteon, who criticized the treatise on _Arithmetic_, he says: "_Estplane stultus et elleboro indiget. _" Tartaglia's name is there, and he, according to Cardan, was forced to eat his words; "but he was ashamed todo what he promised, and unwilling to blot out what he had written. Hewent on in his wrong-headed course, living upon the labour of other menlike a greedy crow, a manifest robber of other men's wealth of study; soimpudent that he published as his own, in the Italian tongue, thatinvention for the raising of sunken ships which I had made known fouryears before. This he did, understanding the subject only imperfectly, and making no mention of my name. But men of real learning also attackedme: Rondeletius, and Julius Scaliger; and Fuchsius, in the proem of hisbook, says that my work _Medicinæ Contradictiones_ should be avoided likedeadly poison. Julius Scaliger has been fully answered in the _Apologia_in the Books on Subtlety. "[240]

There is a passage from De Thou's _History of his Own Times_, affixed toall editions of the _De Vita Propria_, [241] in which is given acontemporary sketch of Cardan during his residence at Rome. "His wholelife, " De Thou writes, "has been as strange as his present manners, andhe, in sooth, out of singleness of mind or frankness, has written abouthimself certain statements, the like of which have never before been heardof a man of letters, and these I do not feel bound to unfold to any one, let him be ever so curious. I, myself, happening to be in Rome a few yearsbefore his death, often spoke to him and observed him with astonishment ashe took his walks about the city clad in strange garb. When I consideredthe many writings of this famous man, I could perceive in him nothing tojustify his great renown. Wherefore I am all the more inclined to turn tothat very acute criticism of Julius Cæsar Scaliger, who exercised hisextraordinary genius in making a special examination of the treatise _DeSubtilitate Rerum_. He, having carefully noted everywhere the unequalpowers of this writer, decided that he was one who, in certain subjects, knew more than a man could know, while in others he seemed more simplethan a child. In the science of Arithmetic he worked hard and made manydiscoveries; but he was subject to strange and excessive aberration ofmind, and was guilty of the most impudent blasphemy, in that he was mindedto subject to the artificial laws of the stars the Ruler of the starsHimself, for this thing he did in the horoscope of our Saviour which hedrew. "

Another witness of his life in Rome is François d'Amboise, a young Frenchnobleman, who was engaged on his book _De Symbolis Heroicis_. He says thathe saw Cardan, who was living in a spacious house, on the walls of which, in place of elegant paintings or vari-coloured tapestries, were writtenthe words, "_Tempus mea possessio_. "

In his later writings there are farther indications that he was wont toconjure up omens and portents chiefly at those times when he was in dangerand mental distress. In the case which is given below, the omen showeditself in a season of trouble, but Cardan, in describing it later, treatsit as if he were a modern scientist. The distressing memories of theimprisonment had faded, and writing in ease and security at Rome he beginsto rationalize. In the dialogue between himself and his father, writtenshortly before his death, Fazio calls his son's attention to certain ofthe omens and portents already noticed; and, after discussing these, Jerome goes on to tell for the first time of another boding event which, as he affirms, distressed him even more than the loss of his office andthe prohibition to publish his books. On the day of his incarceration, ontwo different occasions, he met a cow being driven to the slaughter-house, with much shouting and beating with sticks and barking of dogs. Theexplanation of this event which he puts in Fazio's mouth is entirelyconceived in the spirit of rationalism. What was there to wonder at? Therewas a butcher's shop in the street, and animals going to slaughter wouldnaturally be met there. Why should a man fear to meet a cow? If it hadbeen a bull there might have been something in it. Then with regard to theshaking of a window-casement; this might easily have been occasioned bythe flight of a bird. [242] He was certainly less inclined to put faith inthe warnings of the stars and in the lines of his hand. His line of lifewas very short and irregular, intersected and bifurcated, while the restof the lines were little thicker than hairs. In his horoscope was acertain malefic influence which threatened that his life would be cutshort before his forty-fifth year. "But, " he writes in the year before hisdeath, "here I am, living at the age of seventy-five. "[243] The onesupernatural idea which seems to have deepened with old age and remainedundisturbed to the end was his belief in his attendant genius. In what hewrote during his last years his mood was almost entirely introspective, contemplative, and didactic, yet here and there he introduces a sentencewhich lets in a little light from his way of life and personal affairs, and helps to show how he occupied himself, and what his humour was. Hetells how one day, in 1576, he was writing about the fennel plant in histreatise _De Tuenda Sanitate_, a plant which he praised highly because itpleased his palate. But shortly afterwards, when he was walking one day inthe Roman vegetable market, an old man, shabbily dressed, met him anddissuaded him from the use of the plant aforesaid, saying: "In Galen'sopinion you may as readily meet your death thereby as by eating hemlock. ""I answered that I knew well enough the difference between hemlock andfennel, but the old man said, 'Take care, I know what I am saying, ' andwent on murmuring something about Galen. Whereupon I went home and foundin Galen a passage I had not hitherto noticed, and, having changed myformer views, I added many fresh excerpts to my treatise. "

Although his faith may have been shaken in the ability of the stars togovern his own fortunes, he records a case in which he himself filled thepost of _vates_, and which came to a sudden and terrible issue. Cardan waspresent at a supper-party, and in the course of conversation let fall theremark, "I should like to say something, were I not afraid that my wordswould disturb the company, " to which one of the guests replied, "You meanthat you would prophesy death to one of us here present. " Cardan replied, "Yes, within the present year, " and in the next sentence he tells how onthe first day of December in that same year a certain young man, namedVirgilius, who had been present at the gathering aforesaid, died, and hesets down this event as a fulfilment of his prophecy. 

But in the same chapter he lets the reader into the secret of his systemof prophecy, and displays it as simply an affair of common-sense, onerecommended by Aristotle as the only trustworthy method of divining futureevents. Cardan writes: "I used to inquire what might be the exact natureof the business in hand, and began by making myself acquainted with thecharacter of the locality, the ways of the people, and the quality of thechief actors. I unfolded a vast number of historical instances, leadingevents and secret transactions as well, and then, when I had confirmed thefacts set forth by my method of art, I gave my judgment thereupon. "[244]

In his latter years Cardan must have been in easy circumstances. Thepension from the Pope--no mention is made of its amount--and the fees hereceived from his patients allowed him to keep a carriage; and writing inhis seventy-fifth year, he says that no fees would tempt him to join anyconsultation unless he should be well assured what sort of men he wasexpected to meet. [245]

In the _Norma Vitæ Consarcinata_[246] he relates how in April 1576 therewere two inmates of the Xenodochium at Rome, Troilus and Dominicus. Itseemed that Troilus exercised some strange and malefic influence over hiscompanion, who was taken with fever. He got well of this, but only to fallinto a dropsy, which despatched him in a week. Shortly before his death, at the seventh hour, he cried out to two Spaniards who were standing bythe bed that he had suffered such great torture from the working ofTroilus, and that he was dying therefrom. "Therefore, " he cried, "in yourpresence I summon him with my dying words to appear before God's tribunal, that he may give an account of all the evil he has wrought against me. " Onthe following day there came a messenger from Corneto, a few miles fromRome, saying that Troilus, who was sojourning there, had fallen sick. Thephysician inquired at what hour, and the messenger said it was at seveno'clock, a day or two ago. He lay ill some days, an unfavourable case, butnot a desperate one, and one night shortly afterwards at seven o'clock, the top of the mosquito curtains fell, and he died at exactly the samehour as Dominicus. 

He tells another long story of an adventure which befell him in May 1576. One day he was driving in his carriage in the Forum, when he rememberedthat he wanted to see a certain jeweller who lived in a narrow alley closeby. Wherefore he told his coachman, a stupid fellow, to go to the CampoAltoviti, and await him there. The coachman drove off apparentlyunderstanding the order; but, instead of going to the place designated, went somewhere else; so Cardan, when he set about to find his carriage, sought in vain. He had a notion that the man had gone to a spot near thecitadel, so he walked thither, encumbered with the thick garments he hadput on as necessary for riding in the carriage. Just then he met a friendof his, Vincenzio, a Bolognese musician, who remarked that Cardan was notin his carriage as usual. The old man went on towards the citadel, but sawnothing of the carriage; and now he began to be seriously troubled, forthere was naught else to be done but to go back over the bridge, and hewas wearied with long fasting and his heavy clothes. He might indeed haveasked for the loan of a carriage from the Governor of the castle; but hewas unwilling to do this, so having commended himself to God, he resolvedto use all his patience and prudence in finding his way back. He set out, and when he had crossed the bridge, he entered the banking-house of theAltoviti to inquire as to the alteration in the rate of exchange onNaples, and there sat down to rest. While the banker was giving him thisinformation, the Governor entered the place, whereupon Cardan went out andthere he found his carriage, the driver having been informed by Vincenzio, whom he had met, of the mistake he had made. Cardan got into the carriage, and while he was wondering whether or not he had better go home and breakhis fast, he found three raisins in his pocket, and thus made a fortunateending of all his difficulties. 

All this reads like a commonplace chapter of accidents; but the eventsrecorded did not present themselves to Cardan in this guise. He sits downto moralize over the succession of momentary events: his meeting withVincenzio; Vincenzio's meeting with the driver, and directions given tothe man to drive to the money-changers'; the presence of the Governor, hisexit from the bank, his consequent meeting with the carriage, and hisdiscovery of the raisins, seven occurrences in all, any one of which, ifit had happened a little sooner or a little later, would have broughtabout great inconvenience, or even worse. He does not deny that other menmay not now and then encounter like experiences, but the experiences ofother men were not fraught with such momentous crises, nor did theyforeshadow so many or grave dangers. 

The chronicling of this episode and the fanciful coincidence of the deathsof Dominicus and Troilus may be taken as evidence that his idiosyncrasieswere becoming aggravated by the decay of his faculties. Writing on October1, 1576, he makes mention of the various testaments he had already made, and goes on to say that he had resolved to make a new and finaldisposition of his goods. He would fain have let his property descend tohis immediate offspring, but with a son like Aldo this was impossible, sohe left all to Gian Battista's son, who would now be a youth abouteighteen years of age, Aldo getting nothing. He desired, for reasons bestknown to himself, that all his descendants should remain _in curatela_ aslong as possible, and that all his property should be held on trust; ifthe issue of his body should fail, then the succession should pass inperpetuity to his kinsfolk on the father's side. He desired that his worksshould be corrected and printed, and that, if heirs failed entirely, hishouse at Bologna should pass to the University, and be styled, after hisfamily, _Collegium Cardanorum_. 

There is no authentic record of the exact date of Cardan's death. De Thou, in writing the record of 1576, says that if Cardan's life had beenprolonged by three days he would have completed his seventy-fifth year. AsCardan's birthday was September 24, 1501, this would fix his death onSeptember 21, 1576. The exact figures given by De Thou are: "eodem, quoprædixerat, anno et die, videlicet XI. Kalend. VIII. , " and he adds by wayof information that a belief was current at the time that Cardan, who hadforetold how he would die on this day and in this year, had abstained fromfood for some days previous to his death in order to make the fatal daysquare with the prophecy. 

But the details which Cardan himself has set down concerning the last fewweeks of his life are inconsistent with the facts chronicled by De Thou. In the _De Vita Propria_, chapter xxxvi. , Cardan records how on October 1, 1576, he set to work to make his last will and testament, wherefore ifcredit is to be given to his version rather than to that of De Thou, hewas alive and active some days after the date of his death as fixed by thechronicler. In cases where the record of an event of his early life givenin the _De Vita Propria_ differs from an account of the same in somecontemporary writing, the testimony of the _De Vita Propria_ may justly beput aside; but in this instance he was writing of something which couldonly have happened a few days past, and the balance of probability is thathe was right and De Thou wrong. Bayle notices this discrepancy, and inthe same paragraph taxes De Thou with a mistake of which he is innocent. He states that De Thou placed the date of Cardan's death in 1575, whereasthe excerpt cited above runs: "Thuanus ad annum MDLXXVI. , p. 136, lib. Lxii. Tom. 4. Romæ magni nominis sive Mathematicus, sive MedicusHieronymus Cardanus Mediol. Natus hoc anno itidem obiit. "

No mention is made of the disease to which Cardan finally succumbed. Hadhis frame not been of the strongest and most wiry, it must have gone topieces long before through the havoc wrought by the severe and continuousseries of ailments with which it was afflicted; so it seems permissible toassume that he died of natural decay. His body was interred in the churchof Sant Andrea at Rome, and was subsequently transferred to Milan to bedeposited finally under the stone which covered the bones of his father inthe church of San Marco. This tomb, which Jerome had erected after Fazio'sdeath, bore the following inscription:

 FACIO CARDANO

 1. C. 

 Mors fuit id quod vixi: vitam mors dedit ipsa, Mens æterna manet, gloria tuta quies. 

 Obiit anno MDXXIV. IV. Kalend. Sept. Anno Ætatis LXXX. Hieronymus Cardanus Medicus Parenti posterisque V. P. [247]

FOOTNOTES:

[239] "Qua causa permotus sim ad scribendum, superius intellexisse teexistimo, quippe somnio monitus, inde bis, terque, ac quater, ac pluries, ut alias testatus sum; sed et desiderio perpetuandi nominis. Bis autemmagnam copiam ac numerum eorum perdidi; primum circa XXXVII annum, cumcirciter IX. Libros exussi, quod vanos ac nullius utilitatis futuros esseintelligerem; anno autem MDLXXIII alios CXX libros, cum jam calamitas illacessasset cremavi. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xlv. Pp. 174, 175. 

[240] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 122. 

[241] _De Vita Propria_, p. 232. 

[242] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 639. In the _De Varietate_ he says that naturalcauses may in most cases be found for seeming marvels. "Ecce auditurstrepitus in domo, potest esse mus, felis, ericius, aut quod tignasubsidant blatta. "--p. 624. 

[243] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xli. P. 152. 

[244] _De Vita Propria_, chapter xlii. , _passim_. 

[245] _Ibid. , _ p. 66. 

[246] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 339. 

[247] Tomasinus, _Gymnasium Patavinum_. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE estimates hitherto made concerning Cardan's character appear to havebeen influenced too completely, one way or the other, by the judgmentpronounced upon him by Gabriel Naudé, and prefixed to all editions of the_De Vita Propria_. Some writers have been disposed to treat Naudé as ahide-bound pedant, insensible to the charm of genius, and the last man whoought to be trusted as the valuator of a nature so richly gifted, original, and erratic as was Cardan's. Such critics are content to regardas black anything which Naudé calls white and _vice versâ_. Others accepthim as a witness entirely trustworthy, and adopt as a true description ofCardan the paragraphs made up of uncomplimentary adjectives--applied byCardan to himself--which Naudé has transferred from the _De Vita Propria_and the _Geniturarum Exempla_ to his _Judicium de Cardano_. 

It may be conceded at once that the impression received from a perusal ofthis criticism is in the main an unfavourable one of Cardan as a man, although Naudé shows himself no niggard of praise when he deals withCardan's achievements in Medicine and Mathematics. But in appraising thequalifications of Naudé to act as a judge in this case, it will benecessary to bear in mind the fact that he was in his day a leadingexponent of liberal opinions, the author of a treatise exposing themummeries and sham mysteries of the Rosicrucians, and of an "Apologie pourles Grands Hommes soupçonnez de Magie, " and a disbeliever in supernaturalmanifestations of every kind. With a mind thus attuned it is no matter ofsurprise that Naudé should have been led to speak somewhat severely whencalled upon to give judgment on a man saturated as Cardan was with thebelief in sorcery, witches, and attendant demons. 

If Naudé indeed set to work with the intention of drawing a figure ofCardan which should stand out a sinister apparition in the eyes ofposterity, his task was an easy one. All he had to do was to place JeromeCardan himself in the witness-box. Reference to the passages alreadyquoted will show that, in the whole _corpus_ of autobiographic literature, there does not exist a volume in which the work of self-dissection hasbeen so ruthlessly and completely undertaken and executed as in Cardan'smemoirs. It has all the vices of an old man's book; it is garrulous, vain-glorious, and full of needless repetition; but, whatever portion ofhis life may be under consideration, the author never shrinks from holdingup to the world's gaze the result of his searches in the deepest abyssesof his conscience. Autobiographers, as a rule, do not feel themselvessubject to a responsibility so deep as this. Memory turns back to thecontemplation of certain springs of action, certain achievements in thepast, making a judicious selection from these, and excerpting only such aspromise to furnish the possible reader with a pleasing impression of thepersonality of the subject. With material of this sort at hand, theautobiographer sets to work to construct a fair and gracious monument, being easily persuaded that it would be a barbarous act to mar itssymmetry by the introduction of loathly and misshapen blocks like thosewhich Cardan, had he been the artist, would have chosen first of all. 

Naudé, after he has recorded the fact that, from his first essay inletters, he had been a zealous and appreciative student of Cardan's works, sets down Cardan's picture of himself, taken from his own Horoscope in the_Geniturarum Exempla_, "nugacem, religionis contemptorem, injuriæ illatæmemorem, invidum, tristem, insidiatorem, proditorem, magum, incantatorem, frequentibus calamitatibus obnoxium, suorum osor[e=], turpi libidinideditum, solitarium, inamoenum, austerum, spontè etiam divinantem, zelotypum, lascivum, obscoenum, maledicum, obsequiosum, senumconversatione se delectantem, varium, ancipitem, impur[u=], et dolismulierum obnoxium, calumniatorem, et omnino incognitum propter naturæ etmorum repugnantiam, etiam his cum quibus assidue versor. " The critic atonce goes on to state that in his opinion this description, drawn by theperson who ought to know best, is, in the main, a correct one. What betteraccount could you expect, he asks, of a man who put faith in dreams andportents and auguries; who believed fully in the utterances of crazybeldames, who saw ghosts, and who believed he was attended by a familiardemon? Then follows a catalogue of moral offences and defects ofcharacter, all taken from Cardan's own confessions, and a pronunciation byNaudé that the man who says he never lies, must be of all liars thegreatest; the charge of mendacity being driven home by references toCardan's alleged miraculous comprehension of the classic tongues in asingle night, and his pretended knowledge of a cure for phthisis. There isno need to follow Naudé farther in his diatribe against the faults andimperfections, real and apparent, of Cardan's character; these must bevisible enough to the most cursory student. Passages like these arousethe suspicion that Naudé knew books better than men, that at any rate hedid not realize that men are to be found, and not seldom, who takepleasure in magnifying their foibles into gigantic follies, and theirpeccadilloes into atrocious crimes; while the rarity is to come across onewho will set down these details with the circumstantiality used by Cardan. There is one defect in the _De Vita Propria_--an artistic one--which Naudédoes not notice, namely, that in his narrative of his early days Cardanoften over-reaches himself. His show of extreme accuracy destroys theperspective of the story, and, in his anxiety to be minute over thesequence of his childish ailments, the most trivial details of his uneasydreams, and the cuffs he got from his father and his Aunt Margaret, heconfuses the reader with multitudinous particulars and ceases to bedramatic. But the hallucinations which he nourished about himself were notall the outcome of senility. In the _De Varietate_, the work upon which hespent the greatest care, and the product moreover of his golden prime, hegives an account of four marvellous properties with which he wasgifted. [248] The first of these was the power to pass, whenever the whimseized him, from sense into a kind of ecstasy. While he was in this statehe could hear but faintly the sound of voices, and could not distinguishspoken words. Whether he would be sensitive to any great pain he could notsay, but twitchings and the sharpest attacks of gout affected him not. When he fell into this state he felt a certain separation about the heart, as if his soul were departing from that region and taking possession ofhis whole body, a door being opened for the passage of the same. Thesensation would begin in the cerebellum, and thence would be diffusedalong the spine. The one thing of which he was fully conscious, was thathe had passed out of himself. The second property was that, when he would, he could conjure up any images he liked before his eyes, real [Greek:eidôla], and not at all to be compared with the blurred processions ofphantoms which he was wont to see when he was a child. At the time when hewrote, perhaps by reason of his busy life, he no longer saw themwhensoever he would, nor so perfectly expressed, nor for so long at atime. These images constantly gave place one to another, and he wouldbehold groves, and animals, and orbs, and whatever he was fain to see. This property he attributed to the force of his imaginative power, and hisclearness of vision. The third property was that he never failed to bewarned in dreams of things about to happen to him; and the fourth was thatpremonitory signs of coming events would display themselves in the form ofspots on his nails. The signs of evil were black or livid, and appeared onthe middle finger; white spots on the same nail portending good fortune. Honours were indicated on the thumb, riches on the fore-finger, mattersrelating to his studies and of grave import on the third finger, and minoraffairs on the little finger. 

In putting together the record of his life, Cardan eschewed the narrativeform and followed a method of his own. He collected the details of hisqualities, habits, and adventures in separate chapters; his birth andlineage, his physical stature, his diet, his rule of life, hisimperfections, his poverty, the misfortunes of his sons, his masters andpupils, his travels, his experiences of things beyond nature, his cures, the persecutions of his foes, and divers other categories being groupedtogether to make up the _De Vita Propria_, which, though it is the mostinteresting book he has left behind him, is certainly the most clumsy andchaotic from a literary point of view. The chapters for the most partbegin with his early years, and end with some detail as to his life inRome, each one being a categorical survey of a certain side of his life;but remarks as to his personal peculiarities are scattered about frombeginning to end. He tells how he could always see the moon in broaddaylight;[249] of his passion for wandering about the city by nightcarrying arms forbidden by the law; of his practice of self-torture, beating his legs with a switch, twisting his fingers, pinching his flesh, and biting his left arm; and of going about within doors with naked legs;how at one time he was possessed with the desire, _heroica passio_, ofsuicide; of his habit of filling his house with pets of all sorts--kids, lambs, hares, rabbits, and storks. The chapter in which he records all themaladies which afflicted him, puts upon the reader's credulity a burdenalmost as heavy as is the catalogue given by another philosopher of thenumber of authors he mastered before his twelfth year. Two attacks of theplague, agues, tertian and quotidian, malignant ulcers, hernia, hæmorrhoids, varicose veins, palpitation of the heart, gout, indigestion, the itch, and foulness of skin. Relief in the second attack of plague camefrom a sweat so copious that it soaked the bed and ran in streams down tothe floor; and, in a case of continuous fever, from voiding a hundred andtwenty ounces of urine. As a boy he was a sleep-walker, and he neverbecame warm below the knees till he had been in bed six hours, acircumstance which led his mother to predict that his time on earth wouldbe brief. 

Cardan lived an abstemious life. He broke his fast on bread-and-water anda few grapes. He sometimes dined off bread, the yolk of an egg, and alittle wine, and would take for supper a mess of beetroot and rice and achicory salad. The catalogue of his favourite dishes seems to exhaustevery known edible, and it will suffice to remark that he was speciallyinclined to sound and well-stewed wild boar, the wings of young cockerelsand the livers of pullets, oysters, mussels, fresh-water crayfish becausehis mother ate greedily thereof when she was pregnant with him; but of alldishes he rates the best a carp from three pounds weight to seven, takenfrom a good feeding-ground. He praises all sweet fruit, oil, olives, andfinds in rue an antidote to poison. Ten o'clock was his hour for going tobed, and he allowed himself eight hours' sleep. When wakeful he would walkabout the room and repeat the multiplication table. As a further remedyfor sleeplessness he would reduce his food by half, and would anoint histhighs, the soles of his feet, the neck, the elbows, the carpal bones, thetemples, the jugulars, the region of the heart and of the liver, and theupper lip with ointment of poplars, or the fat of bear, or the oil ofwater-lilies. 

These few extracts will show that an intelligible narrative could scarcelybe produced by the methods Cardan used. The book is a collection of facts, classified as a scientific writer would arrange the sections andsubsections of his subject. In gathering together and grouping the leadingpoints of his life, a method somewhat similar to his own will suffice, butthere will be no need to descend to a subdivision so minute as his own. Atask of this sort is never an easy one, and in this instance thedifficulties are increased by the diffuse and complicated nature of thesubject matter; and because, owing to Cardan's wayward mental habit, there is no saying in what corner of the ten large folios which containhis writings some pregnant and characteristic sentence, picturingeffectively some aspect of his nature or perhaps exhibiting the man at aglance, may not be hidden away. 

It must not be inferred, because Cardan himself and his critics after him, have laid such great stress upon his vices and imperfections, that he wasdevoid of virtues. The most striking and remarkable of his merits was hisindustry, but even in this particular instance, where his excellence ismost clearly manifest, he is constantly lamenting his waste of time andidleness. Again and again he mourns over the precious hours he has spentover chess and dice and games of chance. In his counsels to his children, he compares a gambler to a sink of all the vices, and in writing of hisearly life at Sacco he describes himself as an idle profligate, and tellshow he entirely neglected his profession. If indeed such monstrous cantleswere cut out of his time through idleness he must, though his life proveda long one, have possessed extraordinary power of rapid production; forthe huge mass of his published work, without taking any account of themany manuscripts he burned from time to time, would, in the case of mostmen, represent the ceaseless labour of a long life. And the _corpus_ isnot great by reason of haste or want of finish. He has recorded more thanonce how it was ever his habit to let his work be polished to the utmostbefore putting it in type. The citations with which his pages bristleproclaim him to be a reader almost as voracious and catholic as Burton;and Naudé, with the watchfulness of the hostile critic in his heart andthe bookworm's knowledge in his brain, would have been ready and able toconvict him of quoting authors he had not read, if the least handle forthis charge should have been given, but no accusation of the kind ispreferred. The story of his life shows him to be full of rough candour andhonesty, and unlikely to descend to subterfuge, while his great love ofreading and his accurate retentive memory would make easy for him a taskwhich ordinary mortals might well regard as hopeless. 

Those critics who pass judgment on Cardan, taken solely as a Physician oras a Mathematician, will give a presentment more fallacious than imperfectgeneralizations usually furnish, for in Cardan's case the man, taken as awhole, was incomparably greater than the sum of his parts. Naudé remarksthat a man who knows a little of everything, and that little imperfectly, deserves small respect as a citizen of the republic of letters, but Cardandid not belong to this category, as Julius Cæsar Scaliger found to hiscost. He was not like the bookmen of the revival of learning--Poliziano, Valla, or Alberti may stand as examples--who after putting on the armourof the learned language and saturating themselves with the _literæhumaniores_, made excursions into some domain of science for the sake ofrecreation. Cardan might rather be compared with Varro or Theophrastus inclassic, and with Erasmus, Pico, Grotius, or Casaubon in modern times. Onthis point Naudé indulges in something approaching panegyric. Hewrites--"Investigation will show us that many excelled him in thehumanities or in Theology, some even in Mathematics, some in Medicine andin the knowledge of Philosophy, some in Oriental tongues and in eitherside of Jurisprudence, but where shall we find any one who had mastered somany sciences by himself, who had plumbed so deeply the abysses oflearning and had written such ample commentaries on the subjects hestudied? Assuredly in Philosophy, in Metaphysics, in History, in Politics, in Morals, as well as in the more abstruse fields of learning, nothingthat was worth consideration escaped his notice. "

The foregoing eulogy from the pen of an adverse critic gives eloquenttestimony to Cardan's industry and the catholicity of his knowledge. As tohis industry, the record of his literary production, chronicledincidentally in the course of the preceding pages, will be evidenceenough, seeing that, from the time when he "commenced author, " scarcely ayear went by when he did not print a volume of some sort or other; to saynothing of the production of those multitudinous unpublished MSS. , ofwhich some went to build up the pile he burnt in his latter years in Rome, while others, perhaps, are still mouldering in the presses of universityor city libraries of Italy. Frequent reference has been made to the morenoteworthy of his works. Books like the _De Vita Propria_, the _De LibrisPropriis_, the _De Utilitate ex Adversis Capienda_, the _GeniturarumExempla_, the _Theonoston_, the _Consilia Medica_, the dialogues _Tetim_and _De Morte_, have necessarily been drawn upon for biographical facts. The _De Subtilitate_ and the _De Varietate Rerum_; the _Liber ArtisMagnæ_, the _Practica Arithmeticæ_, have been noticed as the most enduringportions of his legacy to posterity; wherefore, before saying the finalword as to his literary achievement, it may not be superfluous to give abrief glance at those of his books which, although of minor importance tothose already cited, engaged considerable attention in the lifetime of thewriter. 

The work upon which Cardan founded his chief hope of immortality was his_Commentary on Hippocrates_. In bulk it ranks first easily, filling as itdoes one of the large folios of the edition of 1663. Curiously enough, inaddition to a permanent place in the annals of medicine, Cardananticipated for this forgotten mass of type a general and immediatepopularity; wider than any which his technical works could possibly enjoy, seeing that it dealt with the preservation of health, the greatest mortalblessing, and must on this account be of interest to all men. It will beenough to remark of these commentaries that no portion of Cardan's workyields less information as to the author's life and personality; to dilateupon them, ever so superficially, from a scientific point of view, wouldbe waste of time and paper. Another of his works, which he rated highly, was his treatise on Music. It was begun during his tenure of office atPavia, _circa_ 1547, and he was still at work upon it two years before hisdeath. [250] It is not difficult to realize, even at this interval of time, that this book at the date of its publication must have been welcomed byall musical students as a valuable contribution to the literature of theirsubject. It is strongly marked by Cardan's particular touch, thatformative faculty by which he almost always succeeded in stimulating freshinterest in the reader, and exhibiting fresh aspects of whatever subjecthe might be treating. This work begins by laying down at length thegeneral rules and principles of the art, and then goes on to treat ofancient music in all its forms; of music as Cardan knew and enjoyed it; ofthe system of counterpoint and composition, and of the construction ofmusical instruments. 

The Commentary on _Ptolemæi de Astrorum Judiciis_, the writing of whichbeguiled the tedium of his voyage down the Loire on his journey to Parisin 1552, is a book upon which he spent great care, and is certainly worthyof notice. Cardan's gratitude to Archbishop Hamilton for the liberaltreatment and gracious reception he had recently encountered in Scotland, prompted him to dedicate this volume to his late patient. He writes in thepreface how he had expected to find the Scots a pack of barbarians, buttheir country, he affirms, is cultivated and humanized beyondbelief, --"and you yourself reflect such splendour upon your nation thatnow, by the very lustre of your name, it must needs appear to the worldmore noble and illustrious than at any time heretofore. What need is therefor me to speak of the school founded by you at St. Andrews, of seditionquelled, of your country delivered, of the authority of your brother theRegent vindicated? These are merely the indications of your power, and notthe source thereof. " In the preface he also writes at length, concerningthe horoscope of Christ, [251] in a strain of apology, as if he scentedalready the scandal which the publication of this injudicious performancewas destined to raise. In estimating the influence of comets he sets downseveral instances which had evidently been brought to his notice duringhis sojourn in Scotland: how in 1165, within fourteen days of theappearance of a great comet, Malcolm IV. , known on account of hiscontinence as the virgin king, fell sick and died. Again, in 1214 twocomets, one preceding and the other following the sun, appeared asfore-runners of the death of King William after a reign of forty-nineyears. Perhaps the most interesting of his comments on Ptolemy's text arethose which estimate the power of the stellar influences on the humanframe, an aspect of the question which, by reason of his knowledge ofmedicine and surgery, would naturally engage his more serious attention. He tells of the birth of a monstrous child--a most loathsomemalformation--at Middleton Stoney, near Oxford, during his stay inEngland, [252] and gives many other instances of the disastrous effects ofuntoward conjunction of the planets upon infants born under the influenceof the same. He accuses monks and nuns of detestable vices in the plainestwords, words which were probably read by the emissaries of the spiritualauthority when the charge of impiety was being got up against him. In the_Geniturarum Exempla_ the horoscopes of Edward VI. , Archbishop Hamilton, and Cardan himself have been already noticed; that of Sir John Cheke comesnext in interest to these, and, it must be admitted, is no moretrustworthy. It declares that Cheke would attain the age of sixty-oneyears, that he would be most fortunate in gathering wealth and friendsaround him, that he would die finally of lingering disease, and involvemany in misfortune by his death--a faulty guess, indeed, as to the futureof a man who died at forty-three, borne down by the weight of hismisfortunes, neglected and forgotten by his former adherents, stripped ofhis wealth and covered with shame, in that he had abjured his faith tosave a life which was so little worth preserving. 

Naudé does not neglect to censure Cardan for his maladroit attempts toread the future. He writes:--"This matter, forsooth, gave a ready handleto Cardan's rivals, and especially to those who were sworn foes ofastrology; so that they were able to jibe at him freely because, neitherin his own horoscope, nor in that of his son Giovanni Battista, nor inthat of Aymer Ranconet, nor in that of Edward VI. , king of England, norin any other of the schemes that he drew, did he rightly foresee any ofthe events which followed. He did not divine that he himself was doomed toimprisonment, his son to the halter, Ranconet to a violent death, andEdward to a brief term of life, but predicted for each one of these somefuture directly contrary. "[253]

The treatise _De Consolatione_, probably the best known of Cardan'sethical works, was first published at Venice in 1542 by Girolamo Scoto, but it failed at first to please the public taste. It was not until 1544, when it was re-issued bound up with the _De Sapientia_ and the firstversion of the _De Libris Propriis_ from the press of Petreius atNuremberg, that it met with any success. Perhaps the sober tone anddidactic method of this treatise appealed more readily to the mood of theGerman than of the Italian reader. From internal evidence it is obviousthat Cardan was urged to write it by the desire of making known to theworld the bitter experience of his early literary and professionalstruggles. In the opening paragraph he lets it be seen that he intends tofollow a Ciceronian model, and records his regret that the lament ofCicero over his daughter's death should have perished in the barbarianwars. The original title of the book was _The Accuser_, to wit, somethingwhich might censure the vain passions and erring tendencies of mankind, "at post mutato nomine, et in tres libellos diviso, de Consolatione euminscripsimus, quod longe magis infelices consolatione, quam fortunatireprehensione, indigere viderentur. " The subsequent success of the bookwas probably due to this change of name, though the author himselfpreferred to have discovered a special reason for its early failure. [254]The plan of the treatise is the same as that of a dozen others of the samenature: an effort to persuade men in evil case that they may find reliefby regarding the misfortunes they suffer as transitory accidents in no wayaffecting the chief end of life, and by seeking happiness alone intrafficking with the riches of the mind. 

It is doubtful whether any of the books written with this object have everserved their purpose, save in the case of their originators. Cardan mayhave found the burden of his failure and poverty grow lighter as he setdown his woes on paper, but the rest of the world must have read the bookfor some other reason than the hope of consolation. Read to-day inBedingfield's quaint English, the book is full of charm and interest. Itis filled with apt illustration from Greek philosophy and from Holy Writas well, and lighted up by spaces of lively wit. It was accepted by thepublic taste for reasons akin to those which would secure popularity for aclever volume of essays at the present time, and was translated into morethan one foreign language, Bedingfield's translation being published somethirty years after its first appearance. 

The _De Sapientia_, with which it is generally classed, is of far lessinterest. It is a series of ethical discourses, lengthy and discursive, which must have seemed dull enough to contemporary students: to read itthrough now would be a task almost impossible. It is only rememberedbecause Cardan has inserted therein, somewhat incongruously, that accountof his asserted cures of phthisis which Cassanate quoted when he wrote toCardan about Archbishop Hamilton's asthma, and which were afterwardsseized upon by hostile critics as evidence of his disregard of truth. 

Another of his minor works highly characteristic of the author is the_Somniorum Synesiorum_, a collection of all the remarkable dreams he everdreamt, many of which have been already noticed. To judge from whatspecimens of his epistles are extant, Cardan seems to have been a goodletter-writer. One of the most noteworthy is that which he addressed toGian Battista after his marriage. It shows Cardan to have been a lovingfather and a master of sapient exhortation, while the son's fate givesmelancholy testimony of the futility of good counsel unaided by directionand example. He tells of his grief at seeing the evil case into which hisson had fallen, vexed by poverty, disgrace, and loss of health, how hewould gladly even now receive the prodigal into his house (he says nothingabout the wife), did he not fear that such a step would lead to his ownruin rather than to his son's restoration. After showing that any freshmisfortune to himself must needs cut away the last hope for Gian Battista, he sketches out a line of conduct for the ill-starred youth which hedeclared, if rightly pursued, might re-establish his fortunes. 

He begins by advising his son to read and lay to heart the contents of the_De Consolatione_ and the _De Utilitate_, and then, somewhat more to thepurpose, promises him half his earnings of the present and the comingyear. Beyond this Gian Battista should have half the salary of any officewhich his father might get for himself, and half of the piece of silkwhich he had received from the Venetian Ambassador, supposing that theyoung man should not be able to get a like piece for himself from the samesource. 

He next cites the _De Consolatione_ to demonstrate the futility oflamentation over misfortune past or present, or indeed over any decree offate. He bids Gian Battista reflect that he is human not a brute, a mannot a woman, a Christian not a Moslem or Jew, an Italian not a barbarian, sprung from a worthy city and family, and from a father whose name byitself will prove a title to fame. His only real troubles are a weak bodyand infirm health--one a gift of heredity, the other aggravated bydissolute habits. It may be a vain thing for men to congratulatethemselves over their happiness, but it is vainer for them to cry out forsolace over past calamity. Contempt of money is foolish, but contempt ofGod is ten times worse. Cardan concludes this part of his letter byreciting two maxims given him by his father--one, to have dailyremembrance of God and of His vast bounty, the other, to pursue with theutmost diligence any task taken in hand. 

Cardan then treats the scapegrace to a string of maxims from the _DeUtilitate_, maxims which a model son might have read, but which GianBattista would certainly put aside unnoticed, and finishes with someserviceable practical counsel: "Keep your mind calm, go early to bed, forours is a hot-blooded race and predisposed to suffer from stone. Take ninehours' sleep, rise at six and visit your patients, being careful to use nospeech unconnected with the case before you. Avoid heating your body toperspiration; go forth on horseback, come back on foot; and on your returnput on warm clothes. Drink little, break your fast on bread, dried fish, and meat, and then give four hours to study, for studies bring pleasure, relief from care, and mental riches; they are the foundations of renown, and enable a man to do his duty with credit. See your patients again; and, before you sup, take exercise in the woods and fields adjacent. Shouldyou become over-heated or wet with rain, cast off and dry your dampclothes, and don dry ones. Sup heartily, and go to bed at eight; and when, by the brevity of the night, this is not convenient, take a correspondingrest during the day. Abstain from summer fruit, from black wine, from vainoverflow of talk, from falsehood and gaming, from trusting a woman orover-indulging her, for she is a foolish animal and full of deceit. Over-fondness towards a woman will surely bring evil upon you. Bleed andpurge yourself as little as possible; learn by experience of other men'sfaults and misfortunes; live frugally; bear yourself suavely to all men;and let study be your main end. All this and more have I set forth in thebooks I have named. Trust neither promises nor hopes, for these may bevain and delusive; and reckon your own only that which you hold in yourhand. Farewell. "

From the fact that Cardan took part in an unofficial medical conference inParis, that he afterwards superseded Cassanate as the Archbishop of St. Andrews' physician, and did not find himself with a dozen or so quarrelson his hands, it may be assumed that he was laudably free from thejealousy attributed by tradition to his profession. This instance becomesall the more noteworthy when his natural irascibility, and the characterof the learned controversy of the times comes to be considered. He doesnot spare his censure in remarking on the too frequent quarrels of men ofletters, [255] albeit these quarrels must have lent no little gaiety to theliterary world. No one who reads the account of Gian Battista's fate candoubt the sincerity of Cardan's remorse for that neglect of the boy'syouthful training which helped to bring him to ruin, and the care which hebestowed upon his grandson Fazio proved that his regret was not of thatsort which exhales itself in empty words. The zeal with which he threwhimself into the struggle for his son's life, and his readiness to striphimself of his last coin as the fight went on, show that he was capable ofwarm-hearted affection, and afraid of no sacrifice in the cause of duty. 

The brutal candour which Cardan used in probing the weaknesses of his ownnature and in displaying them to the world, he used likewise in hisdealings with others. If he detected Branda Porro or Camutio in a blunderhe would inform them they were blockheads without hesitation, and plumehimself afterwards on the score of his blunt honesty. Veracity was not acommon virtue in those days, but Cardan laid claim to it with a display ofinsistence which was not, perhaps, in the best taste. Over and over againhe writes that he never told a lie;[256] a contention which seems to haveroused especially the bile of Naudé, and to have spurred him on to makehis somewhat clumsy assault on Cardan's veracity. [257] His citation of thecase of the stranger who came with the volume of Apuleius for sale, and ofthe miraculous gift of classic tongues, has already been referred to; butthese may surely be attributed to an exaggerated activity of thatparticular side of Cardan's imagination which was specially prone toseize upon some figment of the brain, and some imperfectly apprehendedsensation of the optic nerve, and fashion from these materials a tale ofmarvel. Delusions of this sort were common in reputed witches, as ReginaldScot writes--"They learne strange toongs with small industrie (asAristotle and others affirme). "[258] The other charge preferred by Naudéas to the pretended cure of consumption, and the consequent quibbling andtergiversation, is a more valid one. It has been noted how Cardan, previous to his journey to Scotland, had posed as the discoverer of a curefor this malady. In the list of his cures successfully treated he includesseveral in which he restored patients suffering from blood-spitting, fever, and extreme emaciation to sound health, the most noteworthy ofthese being that of Girolamo Tiboldo, a sea-captain. When the sick man hadrisen from his bed and had become fat and healthy, Cardan deemed that theoccasion justified a certain amount of self-gratulation, but thephysicians, out of envy, declared that Tiboldo had never suffered fromtrue phthisis. In his account of the case Cardan says that he, and thephysicians as well, were indeed untruthful over the matter, his ownfalsehood having been the result of over-sanguine hope, and theirs theoutcome of spiteful envy. Tiboldo died after all of chest disease, but nottill five years later, and then from a chill caught through sitting in wetgarments. [259] The term consumption has always been applied somewhatloosely, and Cardan probably would have been allowed the benefit of thisusage if he had not, in an excess of candour, set down the workings of hismind and conscience with regard to this matter. Writing of his treatmentof Archbishop Hamilton, he says: "And in truth I cured scarcely anypatients of phthisic disease, though I did find a remedy for many who weresuffering from similar maladies, wherefore that boast of mine, thatproclamation of merit to which I had no right, worked no small profit tome, a man very little given to lying. For the people about the Archbishop, urged on by these and other considerations, persuaded him that he had nochance of regaining his health except by putting himself under my care, and that he should fly to me as his last hope. "[260] It has already beennoted that Cardan's claim to some past knowledge in the successfultreatment of chest diseases had weight with the Archbishop and Cassanate, and the result of his visit surely proved that their confidence was notill-placed; his boasting may have been a trifle excessive, but it wasbased on hope rather than achievement; and if proof can be adduced that itwas not prompted by any greed of illegitimate fame or profit, it mayjustly be ranked as a weakness rather than as a serious offence. To thesetwo instances of falsehood Naudé adds a third, to wit, Cardan's claim tothe guidance of a familiar spirit. He refuses to let this rank as adelusion; and, urged no doubt by righteous indignation against the illsspringing from kindred superstitions, he writes down as a liar rather thana dupe the man who, after mastering the whole world of science, couldprofess such folly. 

Considering the catholicity of Cardan's achievements, and the eager spiritof inquiry he displayed in fields of learning remote from his ownparticular one, it is worthy of notice that he did not allow thisdiscursive humour, which is not seldom a token of instability, to hold himback from pursuing the supreme aim of his life, that is, eminence in theart of Medicine. In his youth the threats and persuasions of his fathercould not induce him to take up Jurisprudence with an assured income andabandon Medicine. At Sacco, at Gallarate, and afterwards in Milan he wasforced by the necessity of bread-winning to use his pen in all sorts ofminor subjects that had no real fascination for him, but all his leisurewas devoted to the acquisition of Medical knowledge. Prudence as well asinclination had a share in directing his energies into this channel, for areport, for which no doubt there was some warrant, was spread abroad thatwhat skill he had lay entirely in the knowledge of Astrology; and, as thisrumour operated greatly to his prejudice, [261] he resolved to perfecthimself in Medicine and free his reputation from this aspersion. He hadquarrelled violently with the physicians over the case of Count Borromeo'schild which died, and with Borromeo himself, and, almost immediately afterthis, he published his book, _De Astrorum Judiciis_, a step which tendedto identify him yet more closely with Astrology, and to raise a cryagainst him in Milan, which he declares to be the most scandal-mongeringcity in the Universe. But it is clear that in this instance scandal wasnot far wrong, and that Cardan himself was right in purging himself of thequasi science he ought never to have taken up. 

Medicine, when Cardan began his studies, was beginning to feel the effectsof the revival of Greek learning. With the restored knowledge of thelanguage of Greece there arose a desire to investigate the storehouses ofscience, as well as those of literature, and the extravagant assumptionof the dogmatists, and the eccentricities of the Arabic school gaveadditional cogency to the cry for more light. The sects which Galen hadendeavoured to unite sprang into new activity within a century after hisdeath. The Arabian physicians, acute and curious as they were, hadexercised but a very transient influence upon the real progress of theart, the chief cause of their non-success being their adhesion toarbitrary and empirical tradition. At the end of the fifteenth century, Leonicinus, a professor at Ferrara, recalled the allegiance of his pupilsto the authority of Hippocrates by the ability and eloquence of histeaching; and, by his translation of Galen's works into Latin, he helpedstill farther to confirm the ascendency of the fathers of Medicine. TheArabians, sprung from the East, the storehouse of drugs and simples, andskilled in Chemistry, were the founders of the Pharmacopoeia, [262] butwith this exception they did nothing to advance Medicine beyond the pointwhere the Greeks had left it. The treatises of Haly, Avicenna, andMaimonides were little better than faint transcriptions of the writings ofthe great forerunners. Their teaching was random and spasmodic, whereasthe system of Hippocrates was conceived in the spirit of Greek philosophy, moving on by select experience, always observant and cautious, andascending by slow and certain steps to the generalities of Theory. Indeedthe science of Medicine in the hands of Hippocrates and his school seems, more than any other, to have presented to the world a rudimentary essay, afaint foreshadowing of the great fabric of inductive process, subsequentlyformulated by the genius of Bacon. At various epochs Medicine had beenspecially stimulated by the vivifying spirit of Greek science; in theRoman school in the days of Celsus, and in the Arabian teaching likewise. Fuller acknowledgment of the authority of Greek Medicine came with theRenaissance, [263] but even this long step in advance did not immediatelyliberate the art from bondage. A new generation of professors arose whoadded fresh material to the storehouses, already overflowing, of pedanticerudition, and showed the utmost contempt for any fruit of other men'slabour which might not square exactly with the utterances of the founders. This attitude rendered these professors of Medicine the legitimate objectsof ridicule, as soon as the leaven of the revival began to work, and thedarts of satire still fly, now and then, at the same quarry. Paracelsus, disfigured as his teaching was by mysticism, the arts of the charlatan, and by his ignorant repudiation of the service of Anatomy, struck thefirst damaging blows at this illegitimate ascendency, by the frequentsuccess of his empirical treatment, by the contempt he heaped upon thescholastic authorities, and by the boldness with which he assailed everythesis which they maintained. Men of more sober intellect and weightylearning soon followed in his track. Fernelius, one of the physiciansCardan met in Paris, boldly rejected what he could not approve byexperience in the writings of Hippocrates and Galen, and stood forth asthe advocate for free inquiry, and Joubert of Montpelier, Argentier ofTurin, and Botal of Asti subsequently took a similar course. 

When Cardan went to study at Pavia in 1519 this tradition was unshaken. Itwas not until the advent of Vesalius that the doom of the ancient systemwas sounded. Then, when Anatomy sprang to the front as the potent ally ofMedicine, the science of healing entered upon a fresh stage, but this newforce did not make itself felt soon enough to seduce Cardan from thealtars of the ancients to the worship of new gods. As long as he lived hewas a follower of the great masters, though at the same time hisadmiration of the teaching of Vesalius was enthusiastic and profound. Hislove of truth and sound learning forbade him to give unreflecting adhesionto the precepts of any man, however eminent, and when he found that Galenwas a careless commentator on Hippocrates, [264] and failed to elucidatethe difficulties with which he professed to deal, he did not spare hiscensure. [265] In the _De Subtilitate_ he speaks of him as "Verbosus etstudio contradicendi tædulus ut alterum vix ferre queas, in reliquo gravisjactura artium posita sit, quam nostræ ætatis viri restituere conatisunt. "[266] But as Galen's name is quoted as an authority on almost everypage of the _Consilia Medica_, it may be assumed that Cardan's faith inhis primary theories was unshaken. In his Commentaries on Hippocrates, Galen professes a profound respect for his master, but the two great menmust be regarded as the leaders of rival schools; indeed it could hardlybe otherwise, seeing how vast was the mass of knowledge which Galen addedto the art during his lifetime. 

Hippocrates, by denying the supernatural origin of disease, by his methodof diagnosis, by the importance he attached to air and diet, by hisdiscriminating use of drugs, and by the simplicity of his systemgenerally, had placed Medicine on a rational basis. In the six hundredyears' space which elapsed before the appearance of Galen, Medicine wasbroken up into many rival schools. The Dogmatici and the Empirici for manyyears wrangled undisturbed, but shortly after the Christian era theMethodici entered the field, to be followed later on by the Eclectici anda troop of other sects, whose wranglings, and whose very names, are nowforgotten. In his _History of Medicine_, Dr. Bostock gives a sketch of theattitude of Galen towards the rival schools. "In his general principles hemay be considered as belonging to the Dogmatic sect, for his method was toreduce all his knowledge, as acquired by the observation of facts, togeneral theoretical principles. These principles he indeed professed todeduce from experience and observation, [267] and we have abundant proofsof his diligence in collecting experience and his accuracy in makingobservations; but still, in a certain sense at least, he regardsindividual facts and the details of experience as of little value, unconnected with the principles which he laid down as the basis of allmedical reasoning. In this fundamental point, therefore, the methodpursued by Galen appears to have been directly the reverse of that whichwe now consider as the correct method of scientific investigation; andyet, such is the force of actual genius, that in most instances heattained the ultimate object in view, although by an indirect path. He wasan admirer of Hippocrates, and always speaks of him with the most profoundrespect, professing to act upon his principles, and to do little morethan expound his doctrines and support them by new facts and observations. Yet in reality we have few writers whose works, both as to substance andmanner, are more different from each other than those of Hippocrates andGalen, the simplicity of the former being strongly contrasted with theabstruseness and refinement of the latter. "

The antagonism between these two great men was not perhaps more markedthan might have been expected, considering that an interval of six hundredyears lay between them. However loyal he may have been to his master, Galen, with his keen, catholic, and subtle intellect, was bound to fallunder the sway of Alexandrian influence while he studied in Alexandria asthe pupil of Heraclianus. The methods of the contemporary school ofphilosophy fascinated him; and, in his endeavour to bring Medicine out ofthe chaotic welter in which he found it, he attempted--unhappily for thefuture of science--to use the hyper-idealistic Platonism then dominant inAlexandria, rather than the gradual and orderly induction of Hippocrates, as a bond of union between professional and scientific medicine; a falsestep for which not even his great services to anatomy and physiology canaltogether atone. Yet most likely it was this same error, an error whichpractically led to the enslavement of Medicine till the seventeenthcentury, which caused Cardan to regard him, and not Hippocrates, as hismaster. The vastness and catholicity of Galen's scheme of Medicine musthave been peculiarly attractive to a man of Cardan's temper; and thatGalen attempted to reconcile the incongruous in the teleological systemwhich he devised, would not have been rated as a fault by his Milanesedisciple. 

Galen taught as a cardinal truth the doctrine of the Hippocraticelements, heat, cold, moisture, and dryness, and a glance at the Consiliumwhich Cardan wrote out on Archbishop Hamilton's illness, will show howcompletely he was under the sway of this same teaching. The genius ofHippocrates was perhaps too sober and orderly to win his entire sympathy;the encyclopædic knowledge, the literary grace, and the more daringflights of Galen's intellect attracted him much more strongly. Hippocratesscoffed at charms and amulets, while Galen commended them, and is said tohave invented the anodyne necklace which was long known and worn inEngland. There is no need to specify which of the masters Cardan wouldswear by in this matter. The choice which Cardan made, albeit it wasexactly what might have been anticipated, was in every respect anunfortunate one. He put himself under a master whose teaching could haveno other effect than to accentuate the failings of the pupil, whereas hadhe let his mind come under the more regular discipline of Hippocrates'method, it is almost certain that the mass of his work, now shut in dustyfolios which stand undisturbed on the shelves for decade after decade, would have been immeasurably more fruitful of good. With all his industryin collecting, and his care in verifying, his medical work remains a heapof material, and nothing more valuable. Learning and science would haveprofited much had he put himself under the standard of the Father ofMedicine, and still more if fate had sent him into being at some periodafter the world of letters had learned to realize the capabilities of theinductive system of Philosophy. 

It may readily be conceded that Cardan during his career turned to goodaccount the medical knowledge which he had gathered from the bestattainable sources, and that he was on the whole the most skilfulphysician of his age. He likewise foreshadowed the system of deaf muteinstruction. A certain Georgius Agricola, a physician of Heidelberg whodied in 1485, makes mention of a deaf mute who had learnt to read andwrite, but this statement was received with incredulity. Cardan, taking amore philosophic view, declared that people thus afflicted might easily betaught to hear by reading, and to speak by writing; writing was associatedwith speech, and speech with thought, but written characters and ideasmight be connected without the intervention of sounds. [268] This view, putforward with all the authority of Cardan's name, would certainly rousefresh interest in the question, and, whether stimulated by his words ornot, an attempt to teach deaf mutes was made by Pedro de Ponce, a SpanishDominican, about 1560. But it would not be permissible to claim for Cardanany share in the epoch-making discoveries in Medicine. Galen as anexperimental physiologist had brought diagnosis to a level unattainedbefore. His methods had been abandoned by his successors, and practice hadin consequence suffered deterioration, but Cardan, studying under therevived Galenism, called into life by the teaching of Vesalius, went todeal with his cures under conditions more favourable than those offered byany previous period of the world's history. His cure of ArchbishopHamilton's asthma, over which Cassanate and the other doctors had failed, was due to a more careful diagnosis and a more judicious application ofexisting rules, rather than to the working of any new discoveries of hisown. Viewed as a soldier in the service of Hygeia, how transient andslender is the fame of Cardan compared with that of Linacre, Vesalius, orHarvey! Were his claims to immortality to rest entirely on hiscontribution to Medicine, his name would have gone down to oblivion alongwith that of Cavenago, Camutio, Della Croce, and the multitude of jealousrivals who, according to his account, were ever plotting his downfall. Butit was rescued from this fate by his excellence as a mathematician, by theinterest clinging to his personality, by the enormous range of hislearning, by his picturesque reputation as a dreamer of dreams, and asearcher into the secrets of the hidden world. In an age when books werefew and ill-composed, his works became widely popular; because, althoughhe dealt with abstruse subjects, he wrote--as even Naudé admits--in apassably good style, and handled his subject with a lightness of touchwhich was then very rare. This was the reason why men went on reading himlong after his works had ceased to have any scientific value; whichinduced writers like Burton and Sir Thomas Browne to embroider their pagesfreely with quotations from his works, and thus make his name familiar tomany who have never handled a single one of his volumes. 

It is somewhat strange to find running through the complex web of Cardan'scharacter a well-defined thread of worldly wisdom and common-sense; tofind that a man, described by almost every one who has dealt with hischaracter as a credulous simpleton, one with disordered wits, or adown-right madman, should, when occasion demanded, prove himself to be asharp man of business. When Fazio died he left his son with a number ofunsettled law-suits on hand, concerning which he writes: "From my father'sdeath until I was forty-six, that is to say for a space of twenty-threeyears, I was almost continually involved in law-suits. First withAlessandro Castillione, surnamed Gatico, with respect to certainplantations, and afterwards with his kinsfolk. Next with the Counts ofBarbiani, next with the college, next with the heirs of Dominico deTortis, who had held me in his arms when I was baptized. Out of all thesesuits I came victorious. It was indeed a matter for surprise that I shouldhave got the better of Alessandro Castillione, seeing that his uncle satas judge. Moreover, he had already got a decision against me, a decisionwhich, as the jurisconsults declared, helped my case as the trial went on, and I was able to force him to pay me all the money which was in dispute. A like good fortune attended me while my claims were considered by theheads of the Milanese College, and finally rejected by several votes. Thenafterwards, when they had decided to admit me, and when they tried tosubject me to certain rules which placed me on a footing inferior to theirown, I compelled them to grant me full membership. In the case of theBarbiani, after long litigation and many angry words and much trouble, Icame to terms with them; and, having received the sum of money covenantedby agreement, I was entirely freed from vexation of the law. "[269] Writinggenerally of his monetary dealings, Cardan says: "Whenever I may haveincurred a loss, I have never been content merely to retrieve the same, Ihave always contrived to seize upon something extra. "[270] Or again: "Ifat any time I have lost twenty crowns, I have never rested until I havesucceeded in getting back these and twenty more in addition. "[271]

Cardan left in his _Dicta Familiaria_ and _Præceptorum ad filiosLibellus_ a long list of aphorisms and counsels, many of which giveevidence of keen insight and busy observation of mankind, while some aredistinguished by a touch of humour rare in his other writings. He bids hischildren to be careful how they offend princes, and, offence being given, never to flatter themselves that it has been pardoned; to live joyfully aslong as they can, for men are for the most part worn out by care; never totake a wife from a witless stock or one tainted with hereditary disease;to refrain from deliberating when the mind is disturbed; to learn how tobe worsted and suffer loss; and to trust a school-master to teachchildren, but not to feed them. One of the dicta is a gem of quaintwisdom. "Before you begin to wash your face, see that you have a towelhandy to dry the same. " If all the instances of prodigies, portents, visions, and mysterious warnings which Cardan has left on record were setdown in order, a perusal of this catalogue would justify, if it did notcompel, the belief that he was little better than a credulous fool, andraise doubts whether such a man could have written such orderly andcoherent works as the treatise on Arithmetic, or the book of the GreatArt. But Cardan was beyond all else a man of moods, and it would be unfairto figure as his normal mental condition those periods of overwroughtnervousness and the hallucinations they brought with them. In his old agethe nearness of the inevitable stroke, and the severance of all earthlyties, led him to discipline his mind into a calmer mood, but early andlate during his season of work his nature was singularly sensitive to thewearing assaults of cares and calamities. In crises of this kind his mindwould be brought into so morbid a condition, that it would fall entirelyunder the sway of any single idea then dominant; such idea would masterhim entirely, or even haunt him like one of those unclean spectres hedescribes with such gusto in the _De Varietate_. What he may have utteredwhen these moods were upon him must not be taken seriously; these are themoments to which the major part of his experiences of things _supranaturam_ may be referred. But there are numerous instances in which hedescribes marvellous phenomena with philosophic calm, and examines them inthe true spirit of scepticism. In his account of the trembling of the bedon which he lay the night before he heard of Gian Battista's marriage, hegoes on to say that a few nights after the first manifestation, he wasonce more conscious of a strange movement; and, having put his hand to hisbreast, found that his heart was palpitating violently because he had beenlying on his left side. Then he remembered that a similar physical troublehad accompanied the first trembling of the bed, and admits that thismanifestation may be referred to a natural cause, _i. E. _ the palpitation. He tells also how he found amongst his father's papers a record of a cureof the gout by a prayer offered to the Virgin at eight in the morning onthe first of April, and how he duly put up the prayer and was cured of thegout, but he adds: "Sed in hoc, auxiliis etiam artis usus sum. "[272] Againwith regard to the episode of the ignition of his bed twice in the samenight, without visible cause, he says that this portent may have comeabout by some supernatural working; but that, on the other hand, it mayhave been the result of mere chance. He tells another story of anexperience which befell him when he was in Belgium. [273] He was arousedearly in the morning by the noise made outside his door by a dog catchingfleas. Having got out of bed to see to this, he heard the sound as of akey being softly put into the lock. He told this fact to the servants, whoat once took up the tale, and persuaded themselves that they had heardmany noises of the same kind, and others vastly more wonderful; in short, the whole house was swarming with apparitions. The next night the noisewas repeated, and a second observation laid bare the real cause thereof. The scratching of the dog had caused the bolt to fall into the socket, andthis produced the noise which had disquieted him. He writes in conclusion:"Thus many events which seem to defy all explanation have really come topass by accident, or in the course of nature. Out of such manifestationsas these the unlettered, the superstitious, the timorous, and theover-hasty make for themselves miracles. "[274] Again, after telling astrange story of a boy who beheld the image of a thief in the neck of aphial, and of some incantations of Josephus Niger, he concludes:"Nevertheless I am of opinion that all these things were fables, and thatno one could have had any real knowledge thereof, seeing that they werenothing else than vain triflings. "[275]

In a nature so complex and many-sided as Cardan's, strange resemblancesmay be sought for and discovered, and it certainly is an unexpectedrevelation to find a mental attitude common to Cardan, a man tied andbound by authority and the traditions of antiquity, and such a daringassailant of the schools and of Aristotle as Doctor Joseph Glanvil. Theconclusions of Cardan as to certain obscure phenomena recently cited showthat, in matters lying beyond sensual cognition, he kept an open mind. Insumming up the case of the woman said to have been cured by theincantations of Josephus Niger, he says that she must have been curedeither by the power of the imagination, or by the agency of the demons. Here he anticipates the arguments which Glanvil sets forth in _SadducismusTriumphatus_. Writing on the belief in witchcraft Glanvil says, "We havethe attestation of thousands of eye and ear witnesses, and these not ofthe easily-deceivable vulgar only, but of wise and grave discerners; andthat when no interest could oblige them to agree together in a common Lye. I say, we have the light of all these circumstances to confirm us in thebelief of things done by persons of despicable power and knowledge, beyondthe reach of Art and ordinary Nature. Standing public Records have beenkept of these well-attested Relations, and Epochas made of those unwontedevents. Laws in many Nations have been enacted against those vilepractices; those amongst the Jews and our own are notorious; such caseshave often been determined near us by wise and reverend Judges, upon clearand convictive Evidence; and thousands of our own Nation have suffereddeath for their vile compacts with Apostate spirits. All these I mightlargely prove in their particular instances, but that 'tis not needfulsince these did deny the being of Witches, so it was not out of ignoranceof these heads of Argument, of which probably they have heard a thousandtimes; but from an apprehension that such a belief is absurd, and thethings impossible. And upon these presumptions they condemn alldemonstrations of this nature, and are hardened against conviction. And Ithink those that can believe all Histories and Romances; That all thewiser would have agreed together to juggle mankind into a common belief ofungrounded fables, that the sound senses of multitudes together maydeceive them, and Laws are built upon Chimeras; That the greatest andwisest Judges have been Murderers, and the sagest persons Fools, ordesigning Impostors; I say those that can believe this heap ofabsurdities, are either more credulous than those whose credulity theyreprehend; or else have some extraordinary evidence of their perswasion, viz. : That it is absurd and impossible that there should be a Witch orApparition. "[276] Cardan's argument in the case of the sick woman, that itwould be difficult if not impossible to invent cause for her cure, otherthan the power of imagination or Demoniac agency, if less emphatic andlengthy than Glanvil's, certainly runs upon parallel lines therewith, andsuggests, if it does not proclaim, the existence of such a thing as thecredulity of unbelief; in other words that those who were disposed tobrush aside the alternative causes of the cure as set down by him, andsearch for others, and put faith in them, would be fully as credulous asthose who held the belief which he recorded as his own. 

FOOTNOTES:

[248] _De Varietate_, p. 314. 

[249] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvii. P. 115. 

[250] "Musicam, sed hanc anno post VI. Scilicet MDLXXIV. Correxi ettranscribi curavi. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xlv. P. 176. 

[251] This is on p. 164. 

[252] Page 266. 

[253] _Judicium de Cardano_. 

[254] Page 57. 

[255] "Ita nostra ætate, lapsi sunt clarissimi alioqui viri in hoc genere. Budæus adversus Erasmum, Fuchsius adversus Cornarium, Silvius adversusVesalium, Nizolius adversus Maioragium: non tam credo justis contentionumcausis, quam vanitate quadam et spe augendæ opinionis inhominibus. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 135. 

[256] He writes in this strain in _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xiv. P. 49, in_De Varietate Rerum_, p. 626, and in _Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 431. 

[257] On the subject of dissimulation Cardan writes: "Assuevi vultum incontrarium semper efformare; ideo simulare possum, dissimularenescio. "--_De Vita Propria_, ch. Xiii. P. 42. Again in _LibellusPræceptorum ad filios_ (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 481), "Nolite unquam mentiri, sed circumvenire [circumvenite?]. "

[258] _Discoverie of Witchcraft_, ch. Xi. 

[259] Donato Lanza, the druggist, who had been his first introducer toSfondrato, was equally perverse. After Cardan had cured him of phthisis, he jumped out of a window to avoid arrest, and fell into a fish-pond, anddied of the cold he took. --_Opera_, tom. I. P. 83. 

[260] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 136. 

[261] _De Vita Propria_, ch. X. P. 32. 

[262] The Materia Medica of Mesua, dating from the eleventh century, wasused by the London College of Physicians in framing their Pharmacopoeia in1618. 

[263] In 1443 a copy of Celsus was found at Milan; Paulus Ægineta wasdiscovered a little later. 

[264] _Opera_, tom. Ix. P. 1. 

[265] _De Immortalitate Animorum_ (Lyons, 1545), p. 73. _De Varietate_, p. 77. _Opera_, tom. I. P. 135. 

[266] _De Subtilitate_, p. 445. 

[267] "Galen's great complaint against the Peripatetics or Aristotelians, was that while they discoursed about Anatomy they could not dissect. Hemet an argument with a dissection or an experiment. Come and see foryourselves, was his constant cry. "--_Harveian Oration_, Dr. J. F. Payne, 1896. 

[268] _Opera_, tom. X. P. 462. 

[269] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxviii. P. 73. 

[270] _Ibid. , _ ch. Xxiii. P. 64. 

[271] _De Utilitate_, p. 309. He also writes at length in the Proxenata onDomestic Economy. --Chapter xxxvii. _et seq. Opera_, tom. I. P. 377. 

[272] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxvii. P. 118. 

[273] _De Varietate_, p. 589. 

[274] _De Varietate_, p. 589. 

[275] _Ibid. , _ p. 640. 

[276] _Sadducismus Triumphatus_ (Ed. 1682), p. 4. 

CHAPTER XV

WHEN dealing with Cardan's sudden incarceration in 1570, in the chronicleof his life, it was assumed that his offence must have been some spoken orwritten words upon which a charge of impiety might have been fastened. Leaving out of consideration the fiery zeal of the reigning Pope Pius V. , it is hard to determine what plea could have been found for a seriouscharge of this nature. Cardan's work had indeed passed the ecclesiasticalcensors in 1562; but in the estimation of Pius V. The smallest lapse fromthe letter of orthodoxy would have seemed grave enough to send to prison, and perhaps to death, a man as deeply penetrated with the spirit ofreligion as Cardan assuredly was. One of his chief reasons for refusingthe King of Denmark's generous offer was the necessity involved of havingto live amongst a people hostile to the Catholic religion; and, in writingof his visit to the English Court, he declares that he was unwilling torecognize the title of King Edward VI. , inasmuch as by so doing he mightseem to prejudice the rights of the Pope. [277] In spite of this positivetestimony, and the absence of any utterances of manifest heresy, diverswriters in the succeeding century classed him with the unbelievers. Dr. Samuel Parker in his _Tractatus de Deo_, published in 1678, includes himamongst the atheistical philosophers; but a perusal of the Doctor'sremarks leaves the reader unconvinced as to the justice of such a charge. The term Atheism, however, was at this time used in the very loosestsense, and was even applied to disbelievers in the apostolicalsuccession. [278] Dr. Parker writes, "Another cause which acted, togetherwith the natural disposition of Cardan, to produce that odd mixture offolly and wisdom in him, was his habit of continual thinking by which thebile was absorbed and burnt up; he suffered neither eating, pleasure, norpain to interrupt the course of his thoughts. He was well acquainted withthe writings of all the ancients--nor did he just skim over the heads andcontents of books as some do who ought not to be called learned men, butskilful bookmongers. Every author that Cardan read (and he read nearlyall) he became intimately acquainted with, so that if any one disputingwith him, quoted the authority of the ancients, and made any the leastslip or mistake, he would instantly set them right. " Dr. Parker is asgreatly amazed at the mass of work he produced, as at his powers ofaccumulation, and maintains that Cardan believed he was endowed with afaculty which he calls _repræsentatio_, through which he was able toapprehend things without study, "by means of an interior light shiningwithin him. From which you may learn the fact that he had studied withsuch enduring obstinacy that he began to persuade himself that the visionswhich appeared before him in these fits and transports of the mind, werethe genuine inspirations of the Deity. " This is evidently Dr. Parker'sexplanation of the attendant demon, and he ends by declaring that Cardanwas rather fanatic than infidel. 

Mention has been made of the list of his vices and imperfections whichCardan wrote down with his own hand. Out of such a heap of self-accusationit would have been an easy task for some meddlesome enemy to gather up aplentiful selection of isolated facts which by artful combination might beso arranged as to justify a formal charge of impiety. The most definite ofthese charges were made by Martin del Rio, [279] who declares that Cardanonce wrote a book on the Mortality of the Soul which he was wont toexhibit to his intimate friends. He did not think it prudent to print thiswork, but wrote another, taking a more orthodox view, called _DeImmortalitate Animorum_. Another assailant, Theophile Raynaud, assertsthat certain passages in this book suggest, if they do not prove, thatCardan did not set down his real opinions on the subject in hand. Raynaudends by forbidding the faithful to read any of Cardan's books, anddescribes him as "Homo nullius religionis ac fidei, et inter clanculariosatheos secundi ordinis ævo suo facile princeps. " Of all Cardan's books the_De Immortalitate Animorum_ is the one in which materials for a charge ofimpiety might most easily be found. It was put together at a time when hehad had very little practice in the Greek tongue, and it is possible thatmany of his conclusions may be drawn from premises only imperfectlyapprehended. Scaliger in his Exercitations seizes upon one passage[280]which, according to his rendering, implied that Cardan reckoned theintelligence of men and beasts to be the same in essence, the variety ofoperation being produced by the fact that the apprehensive faculty wasinherent in the one, and only operative upon the other from without. Butall through this book it is very difficult to determine whether thepropositions advanced are Cardan's own, or those of the Greek and Arabianwriters he quotes so freely: and this charge of Scaliger, which is thebest supported of all, goes very little way to convict him of impiety. Inthe _De Vita Propria_ there are several passages[281] which suggest abelief akin to that of the Anima Mundi; he had without doubt made up hismind that this work should not see the light till he was beyond the reachof Pope or Council. The origin of this charge of impiety may be referredwith the best show of probability to his attempt to cast the horoscope ofJesus Christ. [282] This, together with a diagram, is given in theCommentaries on Ptolemy, and soon after it appeared it was made theoccasion of a fierce attack by Julius Cæsar Scaliger, who declared thatsuch a scheme must be flat blasphemy, inasmuch as the author proved thatall the actions of Christ necessarily followed the position of the starsat the time of His nativity. If Scaliger had taken the trouble to glanceat the Commentary he would have discovered that Cardan especially guardedhimself against any accusation of this sort, by setting down that no onewas to believe he had any intention of asserting that Christ's divinity, or His miracles, or His holy life, or the promulgation of His laws were inany way influenced by the stars. [283] Naudé, in recording the censures ofDe Thou, "Verum extremæ amentiæ fuit, imo impiæ audaciæ, astrorumcommentitiis legibus verum astrorum dominum velle subjicere. Quod illetamen exarata Servatoris nostri genitura fecit, " and of Joseph Scaliger, "impiam dicam magis, an jocularem audaciam quæ et dominum stellarumstellis subjecerit, et natum eo tempore putarit, quod adhuc in litepositum est, ut vanitas cum impietate certaret, "[284] declares that it waschiefly from the publication of this horoscope that Cardan incurred thesuspicion of blasphemy; but, with his free-thinking bias, abstains fromadding his own censure. He rates Scaliger for ignorance because he wasevidently under the impression that Cardan was the first to draw ahoroscope of Christ, and attacks Cardan chiefly on the score of plagiary. He records how divers writers in past times had done the same thing. Albumasar, one of the most learned of the Arabs, whose _thema natalium_ isquoted by Roger Bacon in one of his epistles to Clement V. , AlbertusMagnus, Peter d'Ailly the Cardinal of Cambrai, and Tiberius Russilanus wholived in the time of Leo X. , all constructed nativities of Christ, butCardan makes no mention of these horoscopists, and, according to the viewof Naudé, poses as the inventor of this form of impiety, and isconsequently guilty of literary dishonesty, a worse sin, in his critics'eyes, than the framing of the horoscope itself. 

That there was in Cardan's practice enough of curiosity and independenceto provoke suspicion of his orthodoxy in the minds of the leaders of thepost-Tridentine revival, is abundantly possible; but there is nothing inall his life and works to show that he was, according to the standard ofevery age, anything else than a spiritually-minded man. [285] It would behard to find words more instinct with the true feeling of piety, than thefollowing taken from the fifty-third chapter of the _De Vita Propria_, --"Ilove solitude, for I never seem to be so entirely with those who areespecially dear to me as when I am alone. I love God and the spirit ofgood, and when I am by myself I let my thoughts dwell on these, theirimmeasurable beneficence; the eternal wisdom, the source and origin ofclearest light, that true joy within us which never fears that God willforsake us; that groundwork of truth; that willing love; and the Maker ofus all, who is blessed in Himself, and likewise the desire and safeguardof all the blessed. Ah, what depth and what height of righteousness, mindful of the dead and not forgetting the living. He is the Spirit whoprotects me by His commands, my good and merciful counsellor, my helperand consoler in misfortune. "

Two or three of Cardan's treatises are in the _materna lingua_, but hewrote almost entirely in Latin, using a style which was emphaticallyliterary. [286] His Latin is probably above the average excellence of theage, and if the classic writers held the first place in his estimation--asnaturally they would--he assuredly did not neglect the firstfruits ofmodern literature. Pulci was his favourite poet. He evidently knew Danteand Boccaccio well, and his literary insight was clear enough to perceivethat the future belonged to those who should write in the vulgar tongue ofthe lands which produced them. [287]

Perhaps it was impossible that a man endowed with so catholic a spirit andwith such earnest desire for knowledge, should sink into the mere pedantwith whom later ages have been made acquainted through the fartherspecialization of science. At all events Cardan is an instance that theman of liberal education need not be killed by the man of science. For himthe path of learning was not an easy one to tread, and, as it not seldomhappens, opposition and coldness drove him on at a pace rarely attained bythose for whom the royal road to learning is smoothed and prepared. For along time his father refused to give him instruction in Latin, or to lethim be taught by any one else, and up to his twentieth year he seems tohave known next to nothing of this language which held the keys both ofletters and science. He began to learn Greek when he was aboutthirty-five, but it was not till he had turned forty that he took up thestudy of it in real earnest;[288] and, writing some years later, he givesquotations from a Latin version of Aristotle. [289] In his commentaries onHippocrates he used a Latin text, presumably the translation of Calvusprinted in Rome in 1525, and quotes Epicurus in Latin in the _DeSubtilitate_ (p. 347), but in works like the _De Sapientia_ and the _DeConsolatione_ he quotes Greek freely, supplying in nearly every case aLatin version of the passages cited. These treatises bristle withquotations, Horace being his favourite author. "Vir in omni sapientiægenere admirandus. "[290] As with many moderns his love for Horace did notgrow less as old age crept on, for the _De Vita Propria_ is perhaps fullerof Horatian tags than any other of his works. It would seem somewhat of aparadox that a sombre and earnest nature like Cardan's should find sogreat pleasure in reading the elegant _poco curante_ triflings of theAugustan singer, were it not a recognized fact that Horace has always beena greater favourite with serious practical Englishmen than with thedescendants of those for whom he wrote his verses. 

It was a habit with Cardan to apologize in the prefaces of his scientificworks for the want of elegance in his Latin, explaining that the baldnessand simplicity of his periods arose from his determination to make hismeaning plain, and to trouble nothing about style for the time being; butthe following passage shows that he had a just and adequate conception ofthe necessary laws of literary art. "That book is perfect which goesstraight to its point in one single line of argument, which neither leavesout aught that is necessary, nor brings in aught that is superfluous:which observes the rule of correct division; which explains what isobscure; and shows plainly the groundwork upon which it is based. "[291]

The _De Vita Propria_ from which this extract comes is in point of styleone of his weakest books, but even in this volume passages may here andthere be found of considerable merit, and Cardan was evidently studious tolet his ideas be presented in intelligible form, for he records that in1535 he read through the whole of Cicero, for the sake of improving hisLatin. His style, according to Naudé, held a middle place between thehigh-flown and the pedestrian, and of all his books the _De Utilitate exAdversis Capienda_, which was begun in 1557, shows the nearest approach toelegance, but even this is not free from diffuseness, the fault whichNaudé finds in all his writings. Long dissertations entirely alien fromthe subject in hand are constantly interpolated. In the Practice ofArithmetic he turns aside to treat of the marvellous properties of certainnumbers, of the motion of the planets, and of the Tower of Babel; and inthe treatise on Dialectic he gives an estimate of the historians andletter-writers of the past. But here Cardan did not sin in ignorance; hispoverty and not his will consented to these literary outrages. He was paidfor his work by the sheet, and the thicker the volume the higher thepay. [292]

When he made a beginning of the _De Utilitate_ Cardan was at the zenith ofhis fortunes. He had lately returned from his journey to Scotland, havingmade a triumphant progress through the cities of Western Europe. Thus, with his mind well stored with experience of divers lands, his witssharpened by intercourse with the _élite_ of the learned world, and hishand nerved by the magnetic stimulant of success, he sat down to write asthe philosopher and man of the world, rather than as the man of science. He was, in spite of his prosperity, inclined to deal with the more sombreside of life. He seems to have been specially drawn to write of death, disease, and of the peculiar physical misfortune which befell him in earlymanhood. Like Cicero he goes on to treat of Old Age, but in a spirit sowidely different that a brief comparison of the conclusions of the twophilosophers will not be without interest. Old age, Cardan declares to bethe most cruel and irreparable evil with which man is cursed, and to talkof old age is to talk of the crowning misfortune of humanity. Old men aremade wretched by avarice, by dejection, and by terror. He bids men not tobe deceived by the flowery words of Cicero, [293] when he describes Cato asan old man, like to a fair statue of Polycleitus, with facultiesunimpaired and memory fresh and green. He next goes on to catalogue thenumerous vices and deformities of old age, and instances from Aristotlewhat he considers to be the worst of all its misfortunes, to wit that anold man is well-nigh cut off from hope; and by way of comment grimly adds, "If any man be plagued by the ills of old age he should blame no one buthimself, for it is by his own choice that his life has run on so long. " Hevouchsafes a few words of counsel as to how this hateful season may berobbed of some of its horror. Our bodies grow old first, then our senses, then our minds. Therefore let us store our treasures in that part of uswhich will hold out longest, as men in a beleaguered city are wont tocollect their resources in the citadel, which, albeit it must in the endbe taken, will nevertheless be the last to fall into the foeman's hands. Old men should avoid society, seeing that they can bring nothing theretoworth having: whether they speak or keep silent they are in the way, andthey are as irksome to themselves when they are silent, as they are toothers when they speak. The old man should take a lesson from the loweranimals, which are wont to defend themselves with the best arms given themby nature: bulls with their horns, horses with their hoofs, and cats withtheir claws; wherefore an old man should at least show himself to be aswise as the brutes and maintain his position by his wisdom and knowledge, seeing that all the grace and power of his manhood must needs havefled. [294]

In another of his moral treatises he has formulated a long indictmentagainst old age, that hateful state with its savourless joys and sleeplessnights. Did not Zeno the philosopher strangle himself when he found thattime refused to do its work. The happiest are those who earliest lay downthe burden of existence, and the Law itself causes these offenders who areleast guilty to die first, letting the more nefarious and hardenedcriminals stand by and witness the death of their fellows. There can be noevil worse than the daily expectation of the blow that is inevitable, andold age, when it comes, must make every man regret that he did not die ininfancy. "When I was a boy, " he writes, "I remember one day to have heardmy mother, Chiara Micheria--herself a young woman--cry out that she wishedit had been God's will to let her die when she was a child. I asked herwhy, and she answered: 'Because I know I must soon die, to the great perilof my soul, and besides this, if we shall diligently weigh and examine allour experiences of life, we shall not light upon a single one which willnot have brought us more sorrow than joy. For afflictions when they comemar the recollection of our pleasures, and with just cause; for what isthere in life worthy the name of delight, the ever-present burden ofexistence, the task of dressing and undressing every day, hunger, thirst, evil dreams? What more profit and ease have we than the dead? We mustendure the heat of summer, the cold of winter, the confusion of the times, the dread of war, the stern rule of parents, the anxious care of ourchildren, the weariness of domestic life, the ill carriage of servants, lawsuits, and, what is worst of all, the state of the public mind whichholds probity as silliness; which practises deceit and calls it prudence. Craftsmen are counted excellent, not by their skill in their art, but byreason of their garish work and of the valueless approbation of the mob. Wherefore one must needs either incur God's displeasure or live in misery, despised and persecuted by men. '"[295] These words, though put into hismother's mouth, are manifestly an expression of Cardan's own feelings. 

Cardan was the product of an age to which there had recently been revealedthe august sources from which knowledge, as we understand the term, hasflowed without haste or rest since the unsealing of the fountain. Hecounts it rare fortune to have been born in such an age, and rhapsodizesover the flowery meadow of knowledge in which his generation rejoices, andover the vast Western world recently made known. Are not the artificialthunderbolts of man far more destructive than those of heaven? What praiseis too high for the magnet which leads men safely over perilous seas, orfor the art of printing? Indeed it needs but little more to enable man toscale the very heavens. With his mind thus set upon the exploration ofthese new fields of knowledge; with the full realization how vast was thetreasure lying hid therein; it was only natural that a spirit so curiousand greedy of fresh mental food should have fretted at the piteous brevityof the earthly term allowed to man, and have rated as a supreme evil thatold age which brought with it decay of the faculties and foreshadowed thespeedy and inevitable fall of the curtain. Cicero on the other hand hadbeen nurtured in a creed and philosophy alike outworn. The blight offinality had fallen upon the moral world, and the physical universe stillguarded jealously her mighty secrets. To the eyes of Cicero the mirror ofnature was blank void and darkness, while Cardan, gazing into the sameglass, must have been embarrassed with the number and variety of thesubjects offered, and may well have felt that the longest life of man tentimes prolonged would rank but as a moment in that Titanic spell of worknecessary to bring to the birth the teeming burden with which the universelay in travail. Here is one and perhaps the strongest reason of his hatredof old age; because through the shortness of his span of time he couldonly deal with a grain or two of the sand lying upon the shores ofknowledge. Cicero, with his more limited vision, conscious that sixtyyears or so of life would exhaust every physical delight, and blunt andmar the intellectual; ignorant both of the world of new light lying beyondthe void, and of the rapture which the conquering investigator of the samemust feel in wringing forth its secrets, welcomed the gathering shades asfriendly visitants, a mood which has asserted itself in later times withcertain weary spirits, sated with knowledge as Vitellius was sated withhis banquets of nightingales' tongues. 

Cardan with all his curiosity and restless mental activity was hamperedand restrained in his explorations by the bonds which had been imposedupon thought during the rule of authority. These bonds held himback--acting imperceptibly--as they held back Abelard and many otherdaring spirits trained in the methods of the schoolmen, and allowed him todo little more than range at large over the fields of fresh knowledgewhich were destined to be reaped by later workers trained in other schoolsand under different masters. Learning was still subject to authority, though in milder degree, than when Thomas of Aquino dominated the mentaloutlook of Europe, and the great majority of the men who posed asFreethinkers, and sincerely believed themselves to be Freethinkers, wereunconsciously swayed by the associations of the method of teaching theyprofessed to despise. Their progress for the most part resembled themovement of a squirrel in a rotatory cage, but though their efforts toconquer the new world of knowledge were vain, it cannot be questioned thatthe restrictions placed around them, while nullifying the result of theirinvestigations, stimulated enormously the activity of the brain and gaveit a formal discipline which proved of the highest value when the realliterary work of Modern Europe began. The futilities of the problems uponwhich the scholastic thinkers exercised themselves gave occasion for thesatiric onslaught both of Rabelais and Erasmus. "Quæstio subtilissima, utrum Chimæra in vacuo bombinans possit comedere secundas intentiones; etfuit debatuta per decem hebdomadas in Consilio Constantiensi, " and "Quidconsecrasset Petrus, si consecrasset eo tempore, quo corpus Christipendebet in cruce?" are samples which will be generally familiar, but thevery absurdity of these exercitations serves to prove how strenuous musthave been the temper of the times which preferred to exhaust itself oversuch banalities as are typified by the extracts above written, rather thanremain inactive. The dogmas in learning were fixed as definitely as inreligion, and the solution of every question was found and duly recorded. The Philosopher was allowed to strike out a new track, but if he valuedhis life or his ease, he would take care to arrive finally at theconclusion favoured by authority. 

Cardan may with justice be classed both with men of science and men ofletters. In spite of the limitations just referred to it is certain thatas he surveyed the broadening horizon of the world of knowledge, he musthave felt the student's spasm of agony when he first realized the infinityof research and the awful brevity of time. His reflections on old age giveproof enough of this. If he missed the labour in the full harvest-field, the glimpse of the distant mountain tops, suffused for the first time bythe new light, he missed likewise the wearing labour which fell upon theshoulders of those who were compelled by the new philosophy to use newmethods in presenting to the world the results of their midnight research. Such work as Cardan undertook in the composition of his moral essays, andin the Commentary on Hippocrates put no heavy tax on the brain or thevital energies; the Commentary was of portentous length, but it was notmuch more than a paraphrase with his own experiences added thereto. Mathematics were his pastime, to judge by the ease and rapidity with whichhe solved the problems sent to him by Francesco Sambo of Ravenna andothers. [296] He worked hard no doubt, but as a rule mere labour inflictsno heavier penalty than healthy fatigue. The destroyer of vital power andspring is hard work, combined with that unsleeping diligence which must beexercised when a man sets himself to undertake something more complex thanthe mere accumulation of data, when he is forced to keep his mental powerson the strain through long hours of selection and co-ordination, and tofix and concentrate his energies upon the task of compelling into symmetrythe heap of materials lying under his hand. The _De Subtilitate_ and the_De Varietate_ are standing proofs that Cardan did not overstrain hispowers by exertion of this kind. 

Leaving out of the reckoning his mathematical treatises, the vogue enjoyedby Cardan's published works must have been a short one. They came to thebirth only to be buried in the yawning graves which lie open in everylibrary. At the time when Spon brought out his great edition in ten foliovolumes in 1663, the mists of oblivion must have been gathering around theauthor's fame, and in a brief space his words ceased to have any weight inthe teaching of that Art he had cultivated with so great zeal andaffection. The mathematician who talked about "Cardan's rule" to hispupils was most likely ignorant both of his century and his birthplace. Had it not been for the references made by writers like Burton to hisdabblings in occult learning, his claims to read the stars, and to theguidance of a peculiar spirit, his name would have been now unknown, saveto a few algebraists; and his desire, expressed in one of the meditativepassages of the _De Vita Propria_, would have been amply fulfilled: "Nontamen unquam concupivi gloriam aut honores: imo sprevi, cuperem notum essequod sim, non opto ut sciatur qualis sim. "[297]

FOOTNOTES:

[277] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxix. P. 76. 

[278] Dugald Stewart, _Dissertations_, p. 378. 

[279] The writer, a Jesuit, says in _Disquisitionum Magicarum_ (Louvanii, 1599), tom. I. :--"In Cardani de Subtilitate et de Varietate libris passimlatet anguis in herba et indiget expurgatione Ecclesiasticæ limæ. " Del Riowas a violent assailant of Cornelius Agrippa. 

[280] "Quoniam intellectus intrinsecus est homini, belluis extrinsecuscollucet: unus etiam satisfacere omnibus, quæ in una specie sunt potest, hominibus plures sunt necessarii: tertia est quod hominis anima tanquamspeculum est levigata, splendida, solida, clara: belluarum autem tenebrosanec levis; atque ideo in nostra anima lux mentis refulget multipliciterconfracta, inde ipse Intellectus intelligit. Ceteris autem potentiis, utdiximus, nullus limes prescriptus est: at belluarum internis facultatibustantum licet agnoscere, quantum per exteriores sensus accesserit. "--_DeImm. Anim. , _ p. 283. 

[281] "Deum debere dici immensum: omnia quæ partes habent diversasordinatas animam habere et vitam. "--p. 167. 

[282] In the last edition of _De Libris Propriis_ he calls it "Christiquenativitas admirabilis. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 110. 

[283] _Ptolemæi de Astrorum Judiciis_, p. 163. 

[284] _Præfatio in Manilium_. 

[285] A proof of his liberal tone of mind is found in his appreciation ofthe fine qualities of Edward VI. As a man, although he resented hisencroachments as a king upon the Pope's rights. 

[286] In the _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxxiii. P. 106, he fixes into hisprose an entire line of Horace, "Canidia afflasset pejor serpentibusAfris. "

[287] "At Boccatii fabulæ nunc majus virent quam antea: et DantisPetrarchæque ac Virgilii totque aliorum poemata sunt in maximaveneratione. "--_Opera_, tom. I. P. 125. 

[288] _Ibid. , _ tom. I. P. 59. 

[289] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xii. -xiii. Pp. 39, 44. 

[290] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 505. 

[291] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Xxvii. P. 72. 

[292] "Eo tantum fine, quemadmodum alicubi fatetur, ut plura foliaTypographis mitteret, quibuscum antea de illorum pretio pepigerat; atquehoc modo fami, non secus ac famæ scriberet. "--Naudæus, _Judicium_. 

[293] In _De Consolatione_ (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 604) he writes:--"Quantumdiligentiæ, quantum industriæ Cicero adjecit, quo conatu nixus est utpersuaderet senectutem esse tolerandam. "

[294] _De Utilitate_, book ii. Ch. 4. 

[295] _De Consolatione_ (_Opera_, tom. I. P. 605). 

[296] _Opera_, tom. I. P. 113. On the same page he adds:--"Fui autem tamfelix in cito absoluendo, quam infelicissimus in sero inchoando. Coepienim illum anno ætatis meæ quinquagesimo octavo, absolvi intra septemdies; pene prodigio similis. "

[297] _De Vita Propria_, ch. Ix. P. 30. 

INDEX

 Adda, battle, 7

 Alberio, Antonio, 4

 Alciati, Cardinal, 212, 233

 Algebra, 65, 73, 98, 235

 Appearance of Cardan, 19

 Apuleius, 231, 256, 264

 Archinto, Filippo, 40, 41, 46, 54

 Aristotle, 16, 105, 108, 224, 240, 256, 288

 Arithmetic, 54, 61, 71, 91, 290

 Astrology, 5, 54, 259

 Avicenna, 224, 268

 Bandarini, Altobello, 35-38, 163

 Bandarini, Lucia (Cardan's wife), 35, 37, 39, 40, 57, 67, 163

 Bayle, 1, 154, 245

 Bologna, 193, 195, 201-205, 207, 212, 220, 224

 Borgo, Fra Luca da, 76, 92, 96, 97

 Borromeo, Carlo, 193, 194, 202, 210, 233

 Borromeo, Count, 55, 259

 Browne, Sir T. , 56, 154, 210, 267

 Brissac, Marquis, 54, 122, 131

 Camutio, 170, 171, 256, 264

 Cantone, Otto, 9, 11

 Cardano, Aldo, 164, 165, 170, 172, 203, 212, 243

 Cardano, Fazio, 1, 2, 10, 15, 22, 68, 69, 162, 238, 245, 267

 Cardano, Gasparo, 103, 130, 132

 Cardano, Gian Battista, 40, 102, 103, 164-180, 199, 261

 Cardano, Niccolo, 21

 Cassanate, G. , 117-122, 126, 225, 266

 Cavenago, Ambrogio, 58, 59, 60, 266

 Cheke, Sir J. , 139, 258

 Chiara (Cardan's daughter), 148, 213

 Chiromancy, 110

 Cicero, 259, 290-291, 294

 Colla, Giovanni, 73, 76, 81, 83, 85, 93, 97

 _Consolatione, De_, 57, 62, 117, 164, 288

 Croce, Francesco della, 47, 61

 Croce, Luca della, 58-60, 266

 D'Avalos, Alfonso, 57, 61, 63, 84, 85, 88, 89

 Deaf mutes, 274

 Demons, 115, 147, 155, 229

 Denmark, King of, 100, 144, 282

 Diet, Cardan's, 251: for the Archbishop of St. Andrews, 128

 Diseases, Cardan's, 5, 7, 31, 33, 251

 Doctorate of Padua, 23, 30

 Dreams, Cardan's, 20, 34, 48, 104, 235

 Edinburgh, 113, 125, 126

 Edward VI. , 132-139, 282

 English, the, 141

 Erasmus, 148, 163, 226, 295

 Familiar spirit of Cardan, 227, 229, 258

 Familiar spirit of Fazio Cardano, 12, 227

 Ferrari, Ludovico, 54, 73, 94-96, 98, 211

 Ferreo, Scipio, 54, 73, 76, 77, 97

 Fioravanti, 189, 190, 192, 197

 Fiore Antonio, 73, 76, 77, 79, 80, 82, 97

 Gaddi, Franc. , 47

 Galen, 55, 170, 239, 240, 260-268, 270-273

 Gallarate, 1, 39, 102, 258

 Gambling, 22, 27, 28, 32, 42, 62, 163

 _Geniturarum Exempla_, 4, 136

 Geometry, 70

 Glanvil, Jos. , 279-281

 Greek, study of, 232, 288

 Hamilton, James, Earl of Arran, 120, 121, 124

 Hippocrates, 59, 223, 255, 260, 268, 270-273, 296

 Horace, 287, 289

 Horoscope of Cardan, 5, 248

 Horoscope of Aldo Cardano, 165

 Horoscope of Cheke, 258

 Horoscope of Christ, 55, 221, 257, 285, 286

 Horoscope of Edward VI. , 133, 259

 Horoscope of Gian Battista Cardano, 258

 Horoscope of Ranconet, 259

 Horoscope of the Archbishop of St. Andrews, 130, 258

 _Immortalitate Animorum, De_, 61, 284

 Imprisonment of Cardan, 219, 231

 Index, Congregation of the, 197

 Juan Antonio, 79, 81-83

 Lanza, Donato, 58, 257

 Latin, study of, 12, 279, 282

 Lawsuits, 31, 48, 267, 275

 Leonardo Pisano, 74-76, 97

 _Libris Propriis, De_, 160, 213, 235

 Lyons, 121

 Mahomet the Algebraist, 74

 Mahomet Ben Musa, 75, 98

 Margarita, 6, 21, 163, 249

 Medicine, state of, 267

 Micheria Chiara (Cardan's mother), 1, 3, 27, 39, 41, 42, 46, 292

 Milan, College of, 31, 38, 41, 47, 52, 57, 61, 62, 145, 276

 Moroni, Cardinal, 65, 210, 217-220

 Music, 163, 235, 256

 Naudé, Gabriel, 96, 155, 156, 165, 246-249, 253, 254, 256, 264, 290

 Niger, Josephus, 228, 279

 Northumberland, Duke of, 133, 136, 138, 139

 Orontius, 123

 Osiander, A. , 72

 Paciolus, Luca, 74

 Padua, University, 23-30

 Paracelsus, 163, 269

 Paris, 119, 121

 Parker, Dr. S. , 282, 283

 Pavia, University, 18, 22, 53, 63, 65, 100, 116, 170, 183, 195, 269

 Paul III. , Pope, 54, 65, 100

 Peckham, John, 16, 236

 Petreius, 65

 Petrus, 158, 159

 Pharnelius [Fernel], 123, 260

 Phthisis, cure of, 118, 256

 Pius IV. , 193, 197, 220, 221, 233

 Pius V. , 220-223, 225, 282

 Plat Lectureship, 46, 64, 66, 70

 Porro, Branda, 170, 171, 204, 256, 264

 Portents, 38, 40, 64, 161, 166, 173, 175, 184, 205-207, 216, 219, 231, 238, 278

 Precepts for Children, 164, 276

 _Ptolemæi de Astrorum Judiciis_, 147, 154, 159, 235, 256, 285

 Ranconet, A. , 123, 130, 132, 145, 259

 Ranke, Von, 220, 223

 Rectorship at Padua, 23, 26-28

 Rigone, 176, 182

 Rome, 224, 233, 242

 Rosso, Galeazzo, 14, 106

 Sacco, 10, 30, 32, 67, 110, 258, 267

 Sacco, Bartolomeo, 172, 174, 176

 Saint Andrews, Abp. Of, 112, 113, 118-122, 124, 126, 131, 146-148, 257, 265, 257

 _Sapientia, De_, 57, 117, 260

 Scaliger, J. C. , 61, 148-157, 237 254, 284-286

 Scot, Reginald, 159, 163, 256, 265

 Scotland, 111-116, 141

 Scoto, Ottaviano, 51, 147

 Scotus, Duns, 113-141

 Seroni, Brandonia, 168, 170, 172, 176-180, 231

 Seroni, Evangelista, 168, 177, 182

 Sessa, Duca di, 175, 182, 199, 200

 Sfondrato, Francesco, 58, 59, 61

 Shetlands, 113

 Socrates, 228, 230

 _Subtilitate, De_, 104-117, 149, 158, 221, 228

 Suisset (Swineshead), 113, 141

 Sylvestro, Rodolfo, 211, 219, 231, 234

 Sylvius, 123

 Tartaglia, Niccolo, 73, 75-99, 236

 Thuanus [de Thou], 155, 221, 237 244, 278

 Tiboldo, G. , 265

 Troilus and Dominicus, story of, 241, 243

 _Utilitate, De_, 4, 184, 290

 _Varietate, De_, 104-117, 154, 158, 159, 227, 249

 Vesalius, 100, 101, 123, 261, 270

 Vicomercato, Antonio, 62

 Visconti, Ercole, 183, 188, 192

 _Vita Propria, De_, 9, 45, 161, 235, 237, 244, 246, 249, 250, 284, 285, 289

 Weir, Johann, 209, 210

 William, the English boy, 139-141, 186, 187

 Transcriber's notes

 Page 299 Faizo corrected to Fazio Typographical errors in equations corrected. 

 a with macron [a=] e with macron [e=] u with macron [u=] o with macron [o=] m with tilde [m~]