[Footnote 2: Diem noctemque continuare nullum probium, crebræ ut
inter vinolentos rixæ, raro conviciis sepius cede et vulneribus
transiguntur. Sed et de reconciliandis invicem inimicitiis et
pangendis affinitatibus et adsciscendis principibus, de pace
denique ac bello plerunque in conviviis consultant; tanquam nullo
magis tempore aut ad simplices cogitationes patea animus, aut ad
magnas incalescat.] [[Tacitus, _Germania_ 22.]]
[Footnote 3: Memoir de Thou. liv. ii. p. 63.]
[Footnote 4: Voyag. p. 27. ed. 1646.]
[Footnote 5: Voyage de Italie, t. i. let. 9.]
[Footnote 6: Chevreana, t. ii. p. 188.]
[Footnote 7: Æneid, lib. i. v. 723.] [[i.e. 723-724.]]
[Footnote 8: Ed. viii. p. 411.]
[Footnote 9: Voyag. de Rouvier, p. 89.]
[Footnote 10: De admir. Holland.]
[Footnote 11: Ed. fol. 1567, p. 29.]
CHAP. XVIII.
OF NATIONS THAT GET DRUNK WITH CERTAIN LIQUORS.
As every country does not produce wine, but, according to the poet[1],
"Hic segetes, illic veniunt fælicius uvæ."
_Here_ wheat, more happily _there_ grows the grape.
Those nations, with whom there are no vines, have invented other drinks
to make themselves merry. Pliny[2] tells us, That the western people got
drunk with certain liquors made with fruits; and that these liquors have
different names in Gaul and Spain, though they produce the same effect.
Ammianus Marcellinus reports, That the Gauls having no wine in their
country, though they are very fond of it, contrive a great many sorts of
liquors, which produce the same effect as wine. _Vini avidum genus
adfectans ad vini similitum dinem multiplices potus._
The Scythians had no wine, as appears by the answer of Anacharsis, the
philosopher, who being asked, If they had none that played on the flute
in Scythia, replied, That they had not so much as any wine there.
However, for all that, they got drunk with certain liquors which had the
force and strength of wine. This also we learn from these words of
Virgil:--
"Ipsi in defossis specubus, secura subaltâ
Otia agunt terrâ, congestaque robora tolasque
Advolvere focis ulmos, ignique dedere.
Hic noctem ludo ducunt, et pocula læti
Fermento, atque acidis imitantur vitea sorbis."[2a]
Secure, in quiet ease, they dwell in caves
Deep dug in earth, and to their chimneys roll
Whole oaks and elms entire, which flames devour.
Here all the night, in sport and merry glee,
They pass and imitate, with acid service,
By fermentation vinous made, the grape.
The Thracians intoxicate themselves by swallowing the fumes of certain
herbs, which they cast into the fire.
The Babylonians, according to Herodotus, used likewise to get drunk,
by swallowing the fumes of certain herbs that they burned.
Strabo reports, That the Indians made a certain drink with sugar canes,
which made them merry; very probably not unlike what we now call rum.
Benso, in his History of America, says the same of the inhabitants of
the island of Hispaniola, and several other provinces of America.
Pliny and Athenæus tell us, that the Egyptians fuddled themselves with a
drink made of barley; by this it seems the liquor of Sir John
Barley-Corn is very ancient.
Leri[3], in his Voyage to Brazil, tells us, That the inhabitants of that
country are as great drinkers as the Germans, Flemings, Lansquenets,
Swiss: and all those merry gentleman who love carousing, and drink
supernaculum, ought to agree, that they are even with them. Their drink
is made of certain roots, which they boil and ferment, and is then
called by them in their language, _cahou-in_. The author adds, "That he
has seen them not only drink three days and nights successively without
ceasing, but that they were so very drunk, that they could swallow no
more till they had disgorged, which was in order to begin again.
"There [4]grows in the Eastern countries certain particular drugs, with
which the inhabitants are wonderfully delighted, and which produce a
kind of drunkenness, or agreeable folly, which continues some time. They
are so much accustomed to the use of these drugs, by a long habit, that
they imagine that life must be very sad and unhappy without them.
The Indians and Persians have their bangué, the Egyptians their bola,
and the Turks their opium."
In relation to the Persians, Tavernier[5] has these words, viz. "They
have a sort of drink to divert and make themselves merry, which they
call kokemaar, made of poppy-seeds boiled. They drink it scalding hot;
and there are particular houses, called kokemaar kronè, where people
meet, and give a great deal of pleasure and delight to those who see the
ridiculous postures which this kind of liquor makes them perform. Before
it operates they quarrel with one another, and give abusive language,
without coming to blows; afterwards when the drug begins to have its
effect, then they also begin to make peace. One compliments in a very
high degree, another tells stories, but all are extremely ridiculous
both in their words and actions." And after having spoken of other
liquors that they make use of, he adds, "It is difficult to find in
Persia a man that is not addicted to some one of these liquors, without
which they think they cannot live but very unpleasantly."
I take no notice here of that admirable drink called Punch with us; nor
Juniper-water, (vulgarly called Geneva, a corruption from the French
word Genevre, which signifies the same thing,) nor that dram called
All-fours, which have such wonderful effects on the wretched commonalty.
[Footnote 1: Virgil.] [[_Georgics_ I.54.]]
[Footnote 2: Const. et Jul. lib. 16.]
[[Footnote 2a: Virgil, _Georgics_ III.376-380.]]
[Footnote 3: P. 126, ed. 1594.]
[Footnote 4: L'Emer. des Alim. part iii. ch. 2.]
[Footnote 5: T. 1, lib. v. ch. 17.]
CHAP. XIX.
OTHER CONSIDERATIONS IN FAVOUR OF DRUNKENNESS.
Drunkenness will (and ought to do so) appear excusable to people the
most sober, if they would but make these two reflections following, viz.
I. _That drunkards are not generally given to lewdness._
Aristotle says, "That too much drinking makes one very improper for the
acts of Venus, and gives his reasons. Athenæus reports the same thing in
that passage, where he makes mention of the drunkenness of Alexander the
Great, a vice," says he, "which, perhaps, was the cause of his little
inclination for the ladies."
Montaigne[1] speaks very well on this article, "These," says he, "are
two things which vigorously oppose each other; this weakens our stomach
on one hand; whereas, on the other, sobriety serves to make us more
quaint and delicate in the exercise of love."
Ovid[2] says much the same thing.
"Vina parant animum veneri, nisi plurima sumas,
Ut stupeant multo corda sepulta mero."
Wine, not too much, inspires, and makes the mind
To the soft joys of Venus strong inclin'd,
Which buried in excess, unapt to love,
Stupidly lies, and knows not how to move.
II. _That in those countries where they do not drink to excess, they are
very much addicted to debauchery._
It is certain, that in hot countries they drink a great deal less
than they do in cold, but in lieu of that, lewdness reigns much more.
Montaigne[3], after having observed, that they began to drink less
than they used to do, adds, "Does any one think it tends to amendment?
No, indeed; but, perhaps, we are much more given to whoring than our
forefathers."
This puts me in mind of an Italian, who having reproached a German with
the drunkenness of his country, by these verses, viz.
"Germani multos possunt tolerare labores
O utinam possint tam tolerare sitim."
The Germans (patient) toil, inur'd to pain,
Oh! could they but their thirst so well sustain!
The German answered him extempore in these other two:--
"Ut nos vitis amor, sic vos Venus improba vexat
Est data lex veneri Julia, nulla mero."
As we love wine, so wicked Venus you,
Twas _this_, not _that_, the Julian Edict knew.
In order to draw a consequence from all this, let us speak once more of
Montaigne[4], whose words are, "And if we cannot give any pleasure but
what costs us something, as the ancients maintain, I find this vice
costs the conscience less than all the rest, besides, it is in this
respect no despicable consideration, that a man advanced in honours,
amongst three principal conveniencies of life, that he told me he yet
enjoyed, he reckoned this for one."
After having shewn, in the foregoing chapters, That drunkenness reigns
all the world over, _Nulla in parte mundi cessat ebrietas_. Let us see
what we may hence infer in its favour: and I ask, if the agreement of so
many different nations, to do one and the same thing, proves nothing,
and may not, in some measure, serve as an apology for drunkenness?
For if one considers, that the surprising variety of the humour and
temperament of men, do, notwithstanding, in nowise hinder them from
agreeing unanimously in this point, one shall have a very strong
temptation to believe, that the desire of getting drunk is an innate
quality, and we shall be confirmed in this sentiment, after tasting
experimentally the exquisite sweetness caused by drunkenness.
To conclude,
All drink, throughout the universe, 'tis plain,
The moon drinks up the sea, the earth the rain,
The sun the air, and ev'ry tree, we know,
The earth's prolific juice imbibes to grow.
The air sups up the water too, 'tis said,
Why then, my dearest friends, d'ye plague my head,
And angry grow, because, dry soul[5], I swill
New wine, drink fit for gods, and quaff my fill.
[Footnote 1: Essais, l. ii. ch. 2.]
[Footnote 2: De Remed. Amor.]
[Footnote 3: Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.]
[Footnote 4: Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.]
[Footnote 5: Anima mea non potest habitare in sicco. S. Aug.]
CHAP. XX.
AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT DRUNKENNESS CAUSES INFINITE EVILS.
After having specified the good qualities of drunkenness, let us now
answer some frivolous objections that may be made against what we have
here advanced. For example, people will not be wanting immediately to
object, that drunkenness has been the cause of infinite evils.
To this I answer, that it has been only the cause of these evils when
people have pushed it too far, and not observed the rules they ought to
keep in drinking, and which we shall see here prescribed by and by. For
where do we find that any one, of so many grave philosophers that used
to get drunk, made any disorders? It was for this reason that
Chrisippus's maid said, That her master was drunk in the hams. And it
was on this very account, perhaps, that the Stoics said of their sage,
"That he was, indeed, to be overcome with wine, but would not, however,
be drunk, _Vino obrutum iri non ebrium tamen futurum_."
On the other hand, without being willing to excuse those disorders which
drunkenness has been the cause of, one may say, nevertheless, that some
of these disorders have produced effects highly advantageous. "Suppose,
for example, that Lot had not got drunk, and his two daughters had not
been possessed with the furious desire of having children, and the fear
of dying maids, you ruin, by this means, whole families, who bore a
great part in the wonderful events of the children of Israel[1]."
Their high mightinesses the States of Holland, have eternal obligations
to drunkenness, since to this they owe, in some sort, the establishment
of their republic, which was after this manner, according to Strada:--
[2]The same day that Brederode, accompanied by above two hundred
gentlemen, had presented that famous petition to Margaret of Parma, who
then governed the Netherlands, he gave a magnificent entertainment in
the house of the Count of Culenbourg, there was no want of drinking;
and as they saw the Count of Hoocstrate, who by chance passed that way,
they began, with a great deal of joy, to give one another the name of
Gueux[3]; upon which taking each of them all together great glasses in
their hands, they made vows and oaths to each other by the name of
Gueux, and cried out with one voice and general applause, Long live the
Gueux! After which they promised mutual fidelity; and the Prince of
Orange and the Counts of Egmont and Horn coming to them, they began to
drink again, and with great acclamation renewed vows and wishes with
these new comers, as they had already done, for the Gueux. At last, in
the heat of wine, they took those vigorous resolutions, the effects of
which were afterwards seen, which was the liberty of the United
Provinces.
[Footnote 1: Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. du Calvin.]
[Footnote 2: Strada de Bello Belgico, part i. lib. 5.]
[Footnote 3: The French word for beggars.]
CHAP. XXI.
AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT THE MIRTH WHICH WINE INSPIRES IS
CHIMERICAL.
It will be objected, without doubt, that the mirth which wine inspires
is imaginary, and without any foundation, and that, as Boileau has it,
"Rien n'est beau que le vrai. Le vrai seul est aimable."
Nothing so beautiful as what is true,
That it is only lovely is its due.
I very willingly own, that this joy and mirth is nothing else than the
effect of our imagination.
Full well I'm satisfied 'tis nothing all
But a deceitful hope, less solid far,
A thousand times, than is the moving sand;
But are not all things so with wretched man?
All things soon pass away like rapid streams
Which hasten to the sea, where lost for ever
In th' ocean's vast abyss unknown they lie.
Our wisest wishes and desires are vain,
Abstracted vanities, gay painted bubbles,
That break when touch'd, and vanish into air.
Love, wisdom, knowledge, riches, phantoms all.
But before we thoroughly refute this objection, I shall observe by the
way, that errors and illusions are necessary to the world. "[1]In
general, indeed, it is true to say, that the world, as it is now, cannot
keep itself in the same condition, were not men full of a thousand false
prejudices and unreasonable passions; and if philosophy went about to
make men act according to the clear and distinct ideas of reason, we
might, perhaps, be satisfied, that mankind would quickly be at an end.
Errors, passions, prejudices, and a hundred other the like faults, are
as a necessary evil to the world. Men would be worth nothing for this
world, were they cured, and the greatest part of the things which now
take up our time, would be useless, as Quintilian well knew, namely,
eloquence.
Things are in this condition, and will not easily change, and we may
wait long enough for such a happy revolution, before we shall be able to
say, with Virgil,
"Magnus ab integro sæculorum nascitur ordo."[1a]
A series long of ages now appear,
Entirely new to man, before unknown.
On the other hand, "[2]If you take away from man every thing that is
chimerical, what pleasure will you leave him? Pleasures are not things
so solid, as to permit us to search them to the bottom; one must only
just touch them and away. They resemble boggy and moorish ground, we
must run lightly over them, without ever letting our feet make the least
impression."
No, wheresoe'er we turn our wishing eye,
True pleasures never can our souls enjoy.
Let us add, "[3]That if we did not help to deceive ourselves, we should
never enjoy any pleasure at all. The most agreeable things in this world
are, in the bottom, so trivial, that they would not much affect us, if
we made but never so little serious reflection upon them. Pleasures are
not made to be strictly examined into, and we are obliged every day to
pass over a great many things in them, about which it would not be
proper to make one-self uneasy."
Besides, "[4]Is not the illusion we enjoy as valuable as the good we
possess? M. Fontenelle makes a very excellent observation hereupon in
these verses[5]:--
"Souvent en s'attachant a des fantômes vains
Notre raison seduite avec plaisir s'egare.
Elle-même joüit des objets qu'elle a feints.
Et cette illusion pour quelque tems repare
Le defaut des vrais biens que la Nature avare
N'a pas accordez aux humains."
Often enchanted by the 'luring charms
Of phantoms gay, our reason all seduc'd,
With pleasure roams thro' endless desarts wild,
Enjoys the objects which herself has form'd.
And this illusion for some time repairs
The want of real joys, which niggard Nature
Never has granted to unhappy man.
"Enjoyment," says Montaigne[6], "and possession, belong principally to
imagination, which embraces more eagerly that which it is in pursuit of,
than that which we have in our power."
And certainly, one may pronounce them happy, who thus amuse themselves,
and believe themselves to be so. And indeed, when a man is so far gone
in this persuasion, every thing that is alleged to the contrary is
rejected as a fable.
But to shew, at present, the reality, if one may say so, of mere
illusion, we need go no farther than the poets, who are certainly the
happiest mortals living in that respect.
To instance no more, there's Mr. --------, who would fain be a rhimer,
and that is his folly; but though the poor man, for his insipid verses,
and improper epithets, richly deserves our pity, yet is he wonderfully
pleased with his performances, and with a great deal of tranquillity
mounts up Parnassus, in his own conceit, in loftier tracts than Virgil
or Theocritus ever knew. But, alas! what would become of him, if some
audacious person should dare unbind his eyes, and make him see his weak
and graceless lines, which, however smoothly they may run, are, at best,
but exquisitely dull; contain terms that have no meaning in them, and
have no other ornament, but unintelligible jingle, and initial letters?
How would he curse the day which deprived his senseless soul of that
happy error that so much charmed his thoughts, and amused his
imagination?
What is here said of the poets is applicable to all mankind; and so a
man, whom any one should undertake to persuade, that the mirth and joy
inspired by wine is chimerical, would do well to answer him, after the
manner as a certain madman did the doctor that cured him. The story is
this:--
Once upon a time a certain bigot, otherwise a man of sense, had his
brain a little touched with whimsies, and continually fancied he heard
the heavenly music of the blessed spirits. At last a physician, very
expert in his profession, cured him, either by his skill, or by chance,
no matter which; but when he came to demand his fees; for what? says the
other, in a violent passion, by your damned slip-slops and hellish art,
you have robbed me of my Paradise, though you have cured me of my error.
This I borrow from Boileau[7], as he did from Horace[8].
"[9]There are," says Pere Bouhours, writing to Bussi Rabutin, "agreeable
errors, which are much more valuable than that which the Spaniards
called desengano, and which might be called in our language
disabusement, if this word, which one of our best writers has ventured
upon, had been received."
We shall conclude with M. de Sacy[10], "That it is not always doing
mankind an agreeable service to dissipate their illusions." And we say
of those who taste those satisfactions wine inspires, what M. Bayle says
very pleasantly of news-mongers who are still in hopes of what they wish
for. "They are[11]," says he, "the least unhappy, whatever happens.
There is a great deal of reality in their agreeable sentiments, how
chimerical soever their foundation may be; so that they do not willingly
suffer themselves to be disabused; and they sometimes say, when one
gives them reasons why they should believe the news, that makes them so
joyful, is doubtful or absolutely false, Why do you envy us the
pleasures we enjoy? Do not disturb our entertainment, or rob us of what
we hold most dear. A friend more opposite to error than charity is a
very troublesome reasoner; and if he meddles with their chimeras they
will endeavour to do him a diskindness."
We come now to another objection, and that is, that this joy inspired by
wine is but of a very short continuance; and the pleasure one tastes in
so short a space, dearly repaid with a long and tedious uneasiness.
_Ebrietas unius horæ hilarem insaniam longo temporis tedio pensat._
I own that it is a very great misery, that our pleasures are so short:
and the shorter too, the more exquisite they are. And, perhaps, this may
be a kindness to us, since some are so superlatively so, that should
they continue a much longer space, mankind could not support themselves
under these ecstacies. But be this as it will, can we make them
otherwise than they are? We must therefore have patience, and take them
as we find them. In short, there is no present happiness in the world;
all we can do, is to be contented with the present, not uneasy at what
is to come, but sweeten with an equality of soul the bitter miseries of
human life.
[Footnote 1: Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. de Calvin, p. 516.]
[[Footnote 1a: Virgil, _Eclogues_ IV.5.]]
[Footnote 2: Fontenelle Dial. d'Elisab. et du D. d'Alençon.]
[Footnote 3: Fontenelle Dial. des Morts de Callirh. et de Paulin.]
[Footnote 4: Nov. Dial. des Dieux. p. 68.]
[Footnote 5: Poesies Pastor.]
[Footnote 6: Essais, lib. iii. ch. 9.]
[Footnote 7: Satire iv. M. la Vayer.]
[Footnote 8: Lib. ii. ep. 2.]
[Footnote 9: Lett. de Rab. t. iii. lett. 63.]
[Footnote 10: De l'Amitié, p. 2.]
[Footnote 11: Rep. aux Quest. d'un Prov. t. i. ch. 20.]
CHAP. XXII.
AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT ONE LOSES ONE'S REASON IN GETTING
DRUNK.
It is objected here, that reason ought to be the motive of all our
actions; and, of consequence, that we ought not voluntarily to lose it.
To this objection I answer several ways:-- First and foremost then,
I say, people do well to talk to us so much of reason, when almost all
mankind acts without reason, so that it may pass for a thing that has no
manner of existence but in the imagination. We shall prove this from
M. Bayle. "[1]We are defined," says he, "a reasonable animal. A very
fine definition indeed, when none of us do any thing but without reason.
I assure you, sir, that one may say of reason, what Euripides said in
the beginning of one of his tragedies, and which afterwards was
corrected, on account of the murmurings of the people. O Jupiter, for of
thee I know nothing but only the name! In relation to the faculty I am
talking of, we know nothing more of it than that, so that we may well
laugh at the complaints of that heathen philosopher, who found that
reason was a very troublesome present sent to us by the gods for our
ruin; for he supposed, that reason busied herself in our affairs,
whereas the truth of it is she never meddles in the least with them.
We act nothing but with prejudice, by instinct, by self-love, and the
sudden starts of a thousand passions, which drag and turn our reason as
they will, insomuch that one may most justly define the principle which
rules and domineers over us, a mass of prejudices and passions which
knows how to draw consequences. I remember to have seen a man, who
having never heard mention made of the Cotta of Cicero, said
nevertheless as well as he, that it would have been much better that God
had not made us reasonable, since reason poisons all our affairs, and
makes us ingenious to afflict ourselves, upon which a certain person
said to him in raillery, That he had what he desired; that he had
received so small a share of reason that it was not worth his while to
complain. For my part, I turned the thing otherwise, that people were
much in the wrong to murmur against reason, since it is not that which
guides us; and that it is not too possible it should, without
overthrowing the order which has reigned so long in the world. The
learned Erasmus, continued I, deserves the highest praise in this
respect; he has written The Praise of Folly, wherein he shews that she
sheds every where her influence, and without her, the whole world would
in a short time be turned topsy turvy. I make no doubt, sir, but you
know the merit of that work. The author speaks, though in a merry
manner, the greatest truths in the world; and I do not know whether he
believed himself as profound a philosopher, as he really was in that
ingenious satire."