disagree among themselves. And first as to the senses, though all of them
have more or less affinity with the body, yet of these some are more
gross and blockish, as tasting, hearing, seeing, smelling, touching; some
more removed from the body, as memory, intellect, and the will. And
therefore to which of these the mind applies itself, in that lies its
force. But holy men, because the whole bent of their minds is taken up
with those things that are most repugnant to these grosser senses, they
seem brutish and stupid in the common use of them. Whereas on the
contrary, the ordinary sort of people are best at these, and can do least
at the other; from whence it is, as we have heard, that some of these
holy men have by mistake drunk oil for wine. Again, in the affections of
the mind, some have a greater commerce with the body than others, as
lust, desire of meat and sleep, anger, pride, envy; with which holy men
are at irreconcilable enmity, and contrary, the common people think
there's no living without them. And lastly there are certain middle kind
of affections, and as it were natural to every man, as the love of one's
country, children, parents, friends, and to which the common people
attribute no small matter; whereas the other strive to pluck them out of
their mind: unless insomuch as they arrive to that highest part of the
soul, that they love their parents not as parents--for what did they get
but the body? though yet we owe it to God, not them--but as good men or
women and in whom shines the image of that highest wisdom which alone
they call the chiefest good, and out of which, they say, there is nothing
to be beloved or desired.
And by the same rule do they measure all things else, so that they make
less account of whatever is visible, unless it be altogether
contemptible, than of those things which they cannot see. But they say
that in Sacraments and other religious duties there is both body and
spirit. As in fasting they count it not enough for a man to abstain from
eating, which the common people take for an absolute fast, unless there
be also a lessening of his depraved affections: as that he be less angry,
less proud, than he was wont, that the spirit, being less clogged with
its bodily weight, may be the more intent upon heavenly things. In like
manner, in the Eucharist, though, say they, it is not to be esteemed the
less that 'tis administered with ceremonies, yet of itself 'tis of little
effect, if not hurtful, unless that which is spiritual be added to it, to
wit, that which is represented under those visible signs. Now the death
of Christ is represented by it, which all men, vanquishing, abolishing,
and, as it were, burying their carnal affections, ought to express in
their lives and conversations that they may grow up to a newness of life
and be one with him and the same one among another. This a holy man does,
and in this is his only meditation. Whereas on the contrary, the common
people think there's no more in that sacrifice than to be present at the
altar and crowd next it, to have a noise of words and look upon the
ceremonies. Nor in this alone, which we only proposed by way of example,
but in all his life, and without hypocrisy, does a holy man fly those
things that have any alliance with the body and is wholly ravished with
things eternal, invisible, and spiritual. For which cause there's so
great contrarity of opinion between them, and that too in everything,
that each party thinks the other out of their wits; though that
character, in my judgment, better agrees with those holy men than the
common people: which yet will be more clear if, as I promised, I briefly
show you that that great reward they so much fancy is nothing else but a
kind of madness.
And therefore suppose that Plato dreamed of somewhat like it when he
called the madness of lovers the most happy condition of all others. For
he that's violently in love lives not in his own body but in the thing he
loves; and by how much the farther he runs from himself into another, by
so much the greater is his pleasure. And then, when the mind strives to
rove from its body and does not rightly use its own organs, without doubt
you may say 'tis downright madness and not be mistaken, or otherwise
what's the meaning of those common sayings, "He does not dwell at home,"
"Come to yourself," "He's his own man again"? Besides, the more perfect
and true his love is, the more pleasant is his madness. And therefore,
what is that life hereafter, after which these holy minds so pantingly
breathe, like to be? To wit, the spirit shall swallow up the body, as
conqueror and more durable; and this it shall do with the greater ease
because heretofore, in its lifetime, it had cleansed and thinned it into
such another nothing as itself. And then the spirit again shall be
wonderfully swallowed up by the highest mind, as being more powerful than
infinite parts; so that the whole man is to be out of himself nor to be
otherwise happy in any respect, but that being stripped of himself, he
shall participate of somewhat ineffable from that chiefest good that
draws all things into itself. And this happiness though 'tis only then
perfected when souls being joined to their former bodies shall be made
immortal, yet forasmuch as the life of holy men is nothing but a
continued meditation and, as it were, shadow of that life, it so happens
that at length they have some taste or relish of it; which, though it be
but as the smallest drop in comparison of that fountain of eternal
happiness, yet it far surpasses all worldly delight, though all the
pleasures of all mankind were all joined together. So much better are
things spiritual than things corporeal, and things invisible than things
visible; which doubtless is that which the prophet promises: "The eye
hath not seen, nor the ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of
man to consider what God has provided for them that love Him." And this
is that Mary's better part which is not taken away by change of life,
but perfected.
And therefore they that are sensible of it, and few there are to whom
this happens, suffer a kind of somewhat little differing from madness;
for they utter many things that do not hang together, and that too not
after the manner of men but make a kind of sound which they neither heed
themselves, nor is it understood by others, and change the whole figure
of their countenance, one while jocund, another while dejected, now
weeping, then laughing, and again sighing. And when they come to
themselves, tell you they know not where they have been, whether in the
body or out of the body, or sleeping; nor do they remember what they have
heard, seen, spoken, or done, and only know this, as it were in a mist or
dream, that they were the most happy while they were so out of their
wits. And therefore they are sorry they are come to themselves again and
desire nothing more than this kind of madness, to be perpetually mad. And
this is a small taste of that future happiness.
But I forget myself and run beyond my bounds. Though yet, if I shall seem
to have spoken anything more boldly or impertinently than I ought, be
pleased to consider that not only Folly but a woman said it; remembering
in the meantime that Greek proverb, "Sometimes a fool may speak a word in
season," unless perhaps you expect an epilogue, but give me leave to tell
you you are mistaken if you think I remember anything of what I have
said, having foolishly bolted out such a hodgepodge of words. 'Tis an old
proverb, "I hate one that remembers what's done over the cup." This is a
new one of my own making: I hate a man that remembers what he hears.
Wherefore farewell, clap your hands, live and drink lustily, my most
excellent disciples of Folly.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Praise of Folly, by Desiderius Erasmus