Of all birds, the eagle alone has seemed to wise men the apt type of
royalty: not beautiful, not musical, not fit for food; but
carnivorous, greedy, plundering, destroying, combating, solitary,
hateful to all, the curse of all, and with its great powers of doing
harm, surpassing them in its desire of doing it.
[Footnote 39: Some of these passages are from Crowther's translation
of the "Enchiridion"; others from Bishop Kennett's translation of "The
Praise of Folly"; Sir Roger L'Estranger's translation of the
"Colloquies"; and Froude's translation of the "Letters," as given in
his "Life of Erasmus." English translations from Erasmus began to be
made soon after the appearance of his works in the original. In 1522
appeared "A Lyttel Booke of good Maners for Chyldren, as translated
into the vulgare Englysshe tonge, by Robert Whytynton, laureate
poete." It was printed by Wykyns de Worde. In 1533 the "Enchiridion"
was translated by Will Tindal and printed by Wykyns de Worde. In 1542
appeared "Apothegms," translated by Nicholas Udall. In 1567 "The
Praise of Folie" was "Englisshed" by Sir Thomas Chalones. In 1671
appeared the "Colloquies," translated by "H. M.," and in 1720
"Proverbs" gathered out of Erasmus.]
Princes must be endured, lest tyranny should give way to anarchy, a
still greater evil. This has been demonstrated by the experience of
many states; and lately the insurrection of the German Boers has
taught us that the cruelty of princes is better to be borne than the
universal confusion of anarchy.
There is a wretched class of men, of low degree, yet full of malice;
not less dingy, nor less filthy, nor less vile than beetles; who
nevertheless by a certain obstinate malignity of disposition, tho they
can never do good to any mortal, become frequently troublesome to the
great. They frighten by their ugliness, they molest by their noise,
they offend by their stench; they buzz round us, they cling to us,
they lie in ambush for us, so that it is often better to be at enmity
with powerful men than to attack these beetles; whom it is a disgrace
even to overcome, and whom no one can either shake off or encounter
without some pollution.[40]
[Footnote 40: Erasmus here refers to mendicant friars.]
The generality of mankind place religion in ceremonies or creeds; a
certain appointment of psalms, or in bodily exercises. If you examine
them about spiritual matters, you will find them merely carnal.
God despised the burnt-offerings, new moons and Sabbaths, the calling
of assemblies, and the appointed feasts of His people, while they were
evil-doers, altho He Himself had commanded them; and will any man dare
to compare his own paltry institutions with the divine precepts? You
may read in Isaiah what contempt and loathing he expresses concerning
them. When He speaks of rites, ceremonies, and the multitude of
prayers, does He not, as it were, point at those men who measure
religion by psalms, prayers, creeds, or other human institutions?
Christ is nothing else than love, simplicity, patience, purity,--in
short, all that He himself is; and the devil is nothing but that which
draws us away from these ideals.
What shall I say of such as cry up and maintain the cheat of pardons
and indulgences? that by these compute the time of each soul's
residence in purgatory, and assign them a longer or shorter
continuance according as they purchase more or fewer of these paltry
pardons? By this easy way of purchasing pardons, any notorious
highwayman, any plundering soldier, any bribe-taking judge, shall
disburse some part of his unjust gains and so think all his grossest
impieties atoned for. So many perjuries, lusts, drunkennesses,
quarrels, bloodsheds, cheats, treacheries, debaucheries, shall all be,
as it were, struck a bargain for; and such a contract made as if they
had paid off all arrears and might now begin a new score.
Among these some make a good profitable trade of beggary, going abroad
from house to house, not like the apostles to break their bread, but
to beg it; nay, thrust themselves into all public houses, crowd into
passage boats, get into travelers' wagons, and omit no chance of
craving people's charity, and injuring common beggars by interloping
in their traffic of alms.
Some were spewing, some were praying. I remember one Englishman
there. What mountains of gold did he promise to our Lady of Walsingham
if he ever got safe ashore again! One made a vow to deposit a relic of
the Cross in this place; another to put a relic of it in that;--some
promised to turn monks; one vowed a pilgrimage, barefooted and
bareheaded, in a coat of mail, and begging his bread all the way, to
St. James of Compostella. I could not but laugh at one fellow there.
He vowed as loud as he could bellow to the St. Christopher in the
great church at Paris (that the saint might be sure to hear him) a wax
candle as big as the saint himself. Now, you must know that the Paris
St. Christopher is enormous, and rather a mountain than a statue. He
was so loud, and went over and over with it so often, that a friend of
his gave him a touch on the elbow: "Take care what you promise," said
he; "if you should sell yourself, you could not buy such a candle."
"Hold your tongue, you fool," says the other (softly, so that St.
Christopher might not hear). "Let me but set foot on land once more,
and St. Christopher has good luck if he get even a tallow candle from
me."
I had rather lose all Duns Scotus, and twenty more such as he, than
one Cicero or Plutarch. Not that I am wholly against them, either: but
from the reading of the one I find myself to become honester and
better; whereas I rise from the other extremely dull, indifferent to
virtue, but violently bent on cavil and contention.
Read first the best books. The important thing for you is not how much
you know, but the quality of what you know. Divide your day and give
to each part of it a special occupation. Never work at night. It
dulls the brain and hurts the health.