1. It is a troublesome and difficult task that philosophy undertakes
in going about to cure the disease, or rather itch, of intemperate
prating. For that words, which are the sole remedy against it, require
attention; but they who are given to prate will hear nobody, as being
a sort of people that love to be always talking themselves. So that
the principal vice of loquacious persons is this, that their ears are
stopped to every thing else but their own impertinencies; which I take
to be a wilful deafness in men, controlling and contradicting Nature,
that has given us two ears, though but one tongue. Therefore it was
that Euripides spoke very right to a certain stupid hearer of his:
Impossible it is to fill that brain,
That in a moment lets out all again;
’Tis but the words of wisdom to unfold
Unto a fool, whose skull will nothing hold.[64]
More justly and truly might I say to an idle prate-too-fast, or rather
concerning such a fellow:
In vain I seek to fill thy sieve-like brain,
That in a moment lets out all again;
Infusing wisdom into such a skull
As leaks so fast, it never will be full.
Much more may he be said to spill his instructions over (rather than
pour them into) a man, who is always talking to those that do not
hear, and never hears when others talk. For so soon as a wise man
has uttered any thing, be it never so short, garrulity swallows it
forthwith like the sea, and throws it up again threefold, with the
violence of a swelling tide. Such was the portico at Olympia, called
Heptaphonos, by the reverberation of one single voice causing no less
than seven distinct echoes. And in like manner, if the least word light
into the ears of an impertinent babbler, presently all the room rings
with it, and he makes such a din,
That soon the jangling noise untunes the strings
Of minds sedately fixt on better things.
Insomuch that we may say, that the conduits and conveyances of their
hearing reach not to the souls, but only to their tongues. Therefore it
is that other people retain what is spoken to them; whereas, whatever
is said to talkative people runs through them as through a cullender;
and then they run about from place to place, like empty vessels void of
sense or wit, but making a hideous noise.
2. However, in hopes that there is yet some room left to try an
experiment for the cure of this distemper, let us begin with this
golden sentence to the impertinent prater:
Be silent, boy, and thou wilt find i’ th’ end,
What benefits on silent lips attend.[65]
Among these benefits two of the first and chiefest are to hear and
to be heard. To neither of which can these talkative companions ever
attain; so unhappy they are still to meet with disappointments, though
they desire a thing never so much. For as for those other distempers of
the soul, such as avarice, ambition, and exorbitant love of pleasure,
they have this happiness, to enjoy what they so eagerly covet. But this
is that which most afflicts these idle prattlers, that being desirous
of nothing more than of company that will hear them prate, they can
never meet with it, in regard that all men avoid their society; and
whether sitting in a knot together or walking, so soon as they behold
a prattler advancing towards them, they presently give warning to each
other and adjourn to another place. And as, when there happens a deep
silence in any assembly, so that all the company seems to be mute, we
say that Mercury is got among them; so when a fool, full of noise and
talk, enters into any room where friends and acquaintance are met to
discourse or else to feast and be merry, all people are hushed of a
sudden, as afraid of giving him any occasion to set his tongue upon
the career. But if he once begin to open his mouth, up they rise and
away they trip, like seamen foreseeing a sudden storm and rolling of
the waves, when they hear “the north wind begin to whistle from some
adjoining promontory,” and hastening into harbor. Whence it comes to
pass, that he never can meet with any that are willing either to eat
or drink or lodge with him in the same room, either upon the road
or upon a voyage, unless constrained thereto by necessity. For so
importunate he is in all places, that sometimes he will pull you by the
coat, sometimes by the beard, and sometimes be hunching your sides,
to make you speak. How highly then are to be prized a swift pair of
legs, according to the saying of Archilochus! Nay, by Jove, it was
the opinion of wise Aristotle himself. For he being perplexed with
an egregious prater, and tired out with his absurd stories and idle
repetitions of, “And is not this a wonderful thing, Aristotle?”—No
wonder at all, said he, is this; but if a man should stand still to
hear you prate thus, who had legs to run away, that were a wonder
indeed. To another of the same stamp that, after a long tale of a
roasted horse, excused himself by saying that he was afraid he had
tired him with his prolixity; No, upon my word, quoth the philosopher,
for I never minded what you said. On the other side, should it so fall
out that there was no avoiding the vexation of one of these chattering
fops, Nature has afforded us this happiness, that it is in the power
of the soul to lend the outward ears of the body, to endure the brunt
of the noise, while she retires to the remoter apartments of the mind,
and there employs herself in better and more useful thoughts. By which
means those sonorous babblers are at the same time disappointed, as
well of auditors, as of people that believe what they say. All men look
upon their vain babbling with the same opinion that they have of the
seed of people insatiably addicted to the use of women; for as the one
is barren and useless for generation, so is the other void of the end
of discourse, altogether frivolous and impertinent.
3. And yet there is no member of human bodies that Nature has so
strongly enclosed within a double fortification, as the tongue,
entrenched within with a barricado of sharp teeth, to the end that, if
it refuses to obey and keep silent when reason “presses the glittering
reins” within, we should fix our teeth in it till the blood comes,
rather than suffer the inordinate and unseasonable din. For, according
to the saying of Euripides,
Our miseries do not spring
From houses wanting locks or bolts,
But from unbridled tongues,
Ill used by prating fools and dolts.[66]
And truly, I must tell you, that they who think that houses without
doors, and purses without strings, are of no use to their masters, yet
at the same time set neither fence nor door before their lips, but
suffer a continual torrent of vain and idle discourse to flow through
them, like the perpetual flux of water through the mouth of the Pontic
sea, seem to me to have the least esteem for human speech of all men in
the world. Whence it comes to pass that they never gain belief, which
is the end of all discourse. For the main scope and intention of all
men that speak is to gain a belief of what they utter with those that
hear them; whereas talkative noise-makers are never believed, let them
speak never so much truth. For as wheat, when crowded into a musty
vessel, is found to exceed in measure, but to be unwholesome for use;
so the discourse of a loquacious person swells and enlarges itself
with lies and falsehood, but in the mean time it loses all force of
persuasion.
4. Then again, there is no man of modesty and civility but would be
careful of preserving himself from drunkenness. For anger, as some are
of opinion, is the next neighbor to madness, while drunkenness doth
dwell in the very same house with it; or rather, drunkenness is madness
itself, inferior to it in continuance of time, yet far exceeding it as
it is voluntary, since it is a madness of our own choice. Now there is
nothing for which drunkenness is so much abominated and decried, as for
that it is the cause of inordinate and unlimited babbling and prating.
Heated with wine, the man at other times
Both wise and grave sings loose and wanton rhymes;
He minds not loud indecent laughter then,
Nor mimic dancing, scorned by sober men.[67]
And yet both singing, laughing, and dancing are all but trifles to that
which follows, the consequences of which are oft-times fatal:
He blurts those secrets forth, which once revealed,
Too late he wishes they had been concealed.
This is that which oftentimes proves dangerous, if not terrible, to
the discoverer. And who knows but that the poet might here design
to resolve a question much disputed among philosophers,—that is to
say, what the difference is between being tipsy and stark drunk,—by
attributing to the former only mirth and jollity of humor, but
branding the latter with the foul reproach of noxious babbling? For,
according to the proverb,
What the sober heart conceals
That the drunken heart reveals.
Wherefore it is reported of Bias, that sitting very silent at a
compotation, drinking only when it came to his turn, and being laughed
at by one whose tongue ran at random, who for his silence called him
mope and fool, he made this reply: Find me out that fool, said he, that
e’er could hold his tongue in his cups.
A citizen of Athens, having invited the king of Persia’s ambassadors
to a magnificent feast, at their request gave the same invitation to
the most eminent philosophers in the city, to bear them company. Now,
when all the rest were propounding of themes, and raising arguments
pro and con, and others were maintaining of paradoxes to show their
wit and learning, only Zeno sat still, so reserved and mute that the
ambassadors took notice of it; and thereupon, after they thought they
had opened his heart with two or three lusty brimmers, Pray tell us,
Zeno, said they, what report we shall make concerning thee to our
master? To whom Zeno: Nothing more, said he, but that there was an old
man at Athens that could hold his tongue in the midst of his cups.
Such profound and divine mysterious virtues are silence and sobriety;
whereas drunkenness is loquacious, void of reason and understanding,
and therefore full of jangling and impertinent tautologies. Wherefore
the philosophers, when they come to define drunkenness, call it “vain
talk over wine.” So that drinking is not condemned, provided a man keep
himself within the bounds of silence; only vain and silly discourse
makes wine-bibbing to be drunkenness. He then that is drunk talks idly
over his wine; but the babbler does it everywhere,—in the market-place,
at the theatre, in the public walks, as well by night as by day. If he
be a physician, certainly he is more troublesome than the disease;
if your companion in a voyage, more insupportable than the qualms
occasioned by the tumbling of the sea. If he praise thee, his panegyric
is more offensive than the reproaches of another. It is a greater
pleasure to converse with vicious men, so they be discreet in their
language, than with twaddlers, though never so honest. Therefore Nestor
in Sophocles, desirous to appease exasperated Ajax, mildly thus rebuked
him:
I blame thee not, for though thy words are ill,
Thy deeds bespeak thee brave and valiant still.[68]
But there is not the same excuse to be made for a vain babbling fellow;
for the ill government of his tongue corrupts and vitiates all the
merits of his actions.
5. Lysias had given to a certain accused criminal an oration of his
own writing. He, having read it several times over, came to Lysias
very much dejected, and told him that, upon his first perusal of it,
it seemed to him to be a most admirable piece; but after he had read
it three or four times over, he could see nothing in it but what was
very dull and insipid. To whom Lysias, smiling: What, said he, is not
once enough to speak it before the judges? And yet do but consider the
persuasive eloquence and grace that is in Lysias’s writing, and then I
may be bold to affirm,
That no man living e’er was favored more
By sacred Muse that violet garlands wore.
Certain it is that, of all the commendations that were ever given to
Homer, this is the truest, that he alone avoided being irksome to his
readers, as one that was always new and still flourishing, as it were
in the prime of poetic beauty. And yet in speaking thus of himself,
I hate vain repetitions, fondly made,
Of what has been already plainly said,[69]
he shows how careful he is to shun that satiety which, as it were,
lies in wait for all speech, alluring the ear from one relation into
another, and still recreating the reader with fresh variety, in such
a manner that he never thinks himself satisfied. Whereas men that
let their tongues run at random rend and tear the ears with their
tautologies, like those that, after writing-tables have been newly
cleansed and wiped, deface them again with their impertinent scrawls
and scratches.
6. And therefore we would have them to remember this in the first
place, that, as they who constrain men to guzzle down wine unmixed with
water, and to excess, are the occasion that what was bestowed at first
on men as a blessing, to excite mirth and rejoice the heart, becomes a
mischief, creating sadness and causing drunkenness; so they that make
an ill and inconsiderate use of speech, which is the most delightful
means of human converse, render it both troublesome and unsociable,
molesting those whom they think to gratify, derided by those whose
esteem and admiration they covet, and offensive to such whose love
and friendship they seek. And therefore, as he may be truly said to
be no favorite of Venus, who with the girdle of the Goddess, wherein
are all manner of allurements, drives and chases away his familiar
acquaintance from his society; so he that vexes others with his loose
and extravagant talk may be as truly said to be a rustic, wanting
altogether education and breeding.
7. Now then, among all other passions and maladies, some are dangerous,
others hateful, and others ridiculous; but in foolish prating all these
inconveniences concur. Praters are derided when they make relations of
common matters; they are hated for bringing unwelcome tidings; they
are in danger for divulging of secrets. Whereas Anarcharsis, being
feasted by Solon, was esteemed a wise man, for that, as he lay asleep
after the banquet was over, he was seen with his left hand over his
privy parts, and his right hand laid upon his mouth; deeming, as indeed
he rightly believed, that his tongue required the stronger curb. For
though it would be a hard task to reckon up how many men have perished
through the venereal intemperance, yet I dare say it would be almost as
difficult to tell how many cities and States have been demolished and
totally subverted by the inconsiderate blurting out of a secret.
Sylla besieged Athens at a time when it was certain that he could not
lie long before the city, by reason that other affairs and troubles
called him another way. For on the one side, Mithridates ravaged Asia;
on the other, Marius’s party had made themselves masters of Rome. But
it happened, that certain old fellows being met together in a barber’s
shop, among other discourse, blabbed it out, that the Heptachalcon was
ill guarded, and that the city was in great danger of a surprise in
that part. Which being overheard and reported to Sylla by certain of
his spies, he presently brought all his forces on that side, and about
midnight, after a sharp assault, entered the city with his whole army,
and it was a thousand to one but that he had laid it in ashes. However,
he filled it with the carcasses of the slain, and made the Ceramicus
run with blood; being highly incensed against the Athenians, more for
their reproachful language than their military opposition. For they
had abused both him and his wife Metella, getting up upon the walls
and calling him “mulberry strewed with dust meal,” with many other
provoking scoffs of the same nature; and merely for a few words—which,
as Plato observes, are the lightest things in the world—they drew upon
their heads the severest punishment.
The tongue of one man prevented Rome from recovering her freedom by the
destruction of Nero. For there was but one night to pass before Nero
was to be murdered on the morrow, all things being ready prepared and
agreed on for that purpose. But in the mean time it happened that he
who had undertaken to execute the act, as he was going to the theatre,
seeing one of those poor creatures that were bound and pinioned, just
ready to be led before Nero, and hearing the fellow bewail his hard
fortune, gathered up close to him, and whispered the poor fellow in
the ear Pray only, honest friend, said he, that thou mayest but escape
this day; to-morrow thou shalt give me thanks. Presently the fellow
taking hold of this enigmatical speech, and calling to mind the vulgar
saying, that he is a fool who lets slip a bird in the hand for a bird
in the bush, preferred the surer to the juster way of saving himself,
and presently declared to Nero what that man had whispered in his
ear. Immediately the whisperer was laid hold of, and hurried away to
the place of torture, where by racking, searing, and scourging he was
constrained, poor miserable creature, to confess that by force which
before he had discovered without any compulsion at all.
8. Zeno, that he might not be compelled by the tortures of his body
to betray, against his will, the secrets entrusted in his breast, bit
off his tongue, and spit it in the tyrant’s face. Notorious also was
the example of Leaena, and signal the reward which she had for being
true to her trust and constant in her taciturnity. She was a courtesan
with whom Harmodius and Aristogiton were very familiar; and for that
reason they had imparted to her the great hopes which they had upon
the success of the conspiracy against the tyrants, wherein they were
so deeply engaged; while she on the other side, having drunk freely of
the noble cup of love, had been initiated into their secrets through
the God of Love; and she failed not of her vow. For the two paramours
being taken and put to death after they had failed in their enterprise,
she was also apprehended and put to the torture, to force out of her
a discovery of the rest of the accomplices; but all the torments and
extremities they could exercise upon her body could not prevail to
make her discover so much as one person; whereby she manifested to the
world that the two gentlemen, her friends, had done nothing misbecoming
their descent, in having bestowed their affections upon such a woman.
For this reason the Athenians, as a monument of her virtue, set up a
lioness (which the name Leaena signifies) in brass, without a tongue,
just at the entrance into the Acropolis; by the stomachful courage of
that beast signifying to posterity the invincible resolution of the
woman; and by making it without a tongue, denoting her constancy in
keeping the secret with which she was entrusted. For never any word
spoken did so much good, as many locked up in silence. Thus at one
time or other a man may utter what heretofore has been kept a secret;
but when a secret is once blurted forth, it can never be recalled; for
it flies abroad, and spreads in a moment far and near. And hence it
is that we have men to teach us to speak, but the Gods are they that
teach us silence; silence being the first thing commanded upon our
first initiation into their divine ceremonies and sacred mysteries.
And therefore it is that Homer makes Ulysses, whose eloquence was so
charming, to be the most silent of men; and the same virtue he also
attributes to his son, to his wife, and also to his nurse. For thus you
hear her speaking:
Safe, as in hardened steel or sturdy oak,
Within my breast these secrets will I lock.
And Ulysses himself, sitting by Penelope before he discovered himself,
is thus brought in:
His weeping wife with pity he beheld,
Although not willing yet to be revealed.
He would not move his eyes, but kept them fast,
Like horn or steel within his eyebrows placed.[70]
So powerfully possessed with continence were both his tongue and lips;
and having all the rest of his members so obedient and subject to his
reason, he commanded his eye not to weep, his tongue not to speak a
word, and his heart neither to pant nor tremble.
So was his suffering heart confined
To give obedience to his mind;[71]
his reason penetrating even to those inward motions, and subduing to
itself the blood and vital spirits. Such were many of the rest of his
followers. For though they were dragged and haled by Polyphemus, and
had their heads dashed against the ground, they would not confess a
word concerning their lord and master Ulysses, nor discover the long
piece of wood that was put in the fire and prepared to put out his eye;
but rather suffered themselves to be devoured raw than to disclose any
one of their master’s secrets; which was an example of fidelity and
reservedness not to be paralleled. Pittacus therefore did very well,
who, when the king of Egypt sent him an oblation-beast, and ordered him
to take out and set apart the best and worst piece of it, pulled out
the tongue and sent to him, as being the instrument of many good things
as well as the instrument of the greatest evils in the world.