“These are the things which all the old philosophers talk of and have instructed us in; which though we do not agree to in every particular, yet this hath too sharp a truth in it, that our life is painful and full of difficulties; and if it doth not labor with them in its own nature, yet we ourselves have infected it with that corruption. For the inconstancy of Fortune joined us at the beginning of our journey, and hath accompanied us ever since; so that it can produce nothing that is sound or comfortable unto us; and the bitter potion was mingled for us as soon as we were born. For the principles of our nature being mortal is the cause that our judgment is depraved, that diseases, cares, and all those fatal inconveniences afflict mankind.” But what need of this digression? Only that we may be made sensible that it is no unusual thing if a man be unfortunate; but we are all subject to the same calamity. For as Theophrastus saith, Fortune surpriseth us unawares, robs us of those things we have got by the sweat of our industry, and spoils the gaudy appearance of a prosperous condition; and this she doth when she pleaseth, not being stinted to any periods of time. These and things of the like nature it is easy for a man to ponder with himself, and to hearken to the sayings of ancient and wise men; among whom divine Homer is the chief, who sung after this manner:— Of all that breathes or grovelling creeps on earth, Most man is vain! calamitous by birth: To-day, with power elate, in strength he blooms; The haughty creature on that power presumes: Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels; Untaught to bear, ’gainst Heaven the wretch rebels. For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe; Too high when prosperous, when distress’d too low.[145] And in another place:— What or from whence I am, or who my sire (Replied the chief), can Tydeus’ son enquire? Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies; They fall successive, and successive rise. So generations in their course decay; So flourish these, when those are past away.[146] How prettily he managed this image of human life appears from what he hath said in another place:— For what is man? Calamitous by birth, They owe their life and nourishment to earth; Like yearly leaves, that now with beauty crown’d, Smile on the sun, now wither on the ground.[147]