to be, that has spent all his younger years in poring upon books, and
trudging after learning, in the pursuit whereof he squanders away the
pleasantest time of his life in watching, sweat, and fasting; and in
his latter days he never tastes one mouthful of delight, but is
always stingy, poor, dejected, melancholy, burthensome to himself, and
unwelcome to others, pale, lean, thin-jawed, sickly, contracting by his
sedentariness such hurtful distempers as bring him to an untimely death,
like roses plucked before they shatter. Thus have you, the draught of a
wise man's happiness, more the object of a commiserating pity, than of
an ambitioning envy.
But now again come the croaking Stoics, and tell me in mood and figure,
that nothing is more miserable than the being mad: but the being a fool
is the being mad, therefore there is nothing more miserable than the
being a fool. Alas, this is but a fallacy, the discovery whereof solves
the force of the whole syllogism. Well then, they argue subtlety, 'tis
true; but as Socrates in Plato makes two Venuses and two Cupids, and
shews how their actions and properties ought not to be confounded;
so these disputants, if they had not been mad themselves, should have
distinguished between a double madness in others: and there is certainly
a great difference in the nature as well as in the degrees of them, and
they are not both equally scandalous: for Horace seems to take delight
in one sort, when he says:--
_Does welcome frenzy make me thus mistake?_
And Plato in his Phaedon ranks the madness of poets, of prophets, and of
lovers among those properties which conduce to a happy life. And Virgil,
in the sixth AEneid, gives this epithet to his industrious AEneas:--
_If you will proceed to these your mad attempts._
And indeed there is a two-fold sort of madness; the one that which the
furies bring from hell; those that are herewith possessed are hurried on
to wars and contentions, by an inexhaustible thirst of power and
riches, inflamed to some infamous and unlawful lust, enraged to act the
parricide, seduced to become guilty of incest, sacrilege, or some
other of those crimson-dyed crimes; or, finally, to be so pricked in
conscience as to be lashed and stung with the whips and snakes of grief
and remorse. But there is another sort of madness that proceeds from
Folly, so far from being any way injurious or distasteful that it is
thoroughly good and desirable; and this happens when by a harmless
mistake in the judgment of things the mind is freed from those cares
which would otherwise gratingly afflict it, and smoothed over with
a content and satisfaction it could not under other circumstances so
happily enjoy. And this is that comfortable apathy or insensibleness
which Cicero, in an epistle to his friend Atticus, wishes himself master
of, that he might the less take to heart those insufferable outrages
committed by the tyrannizing triumvirate, Lepidus, Antonius, and
Augustus. That Grecian likewise had a happy time of it, who was so
frantic as to sit a whole day in the empty theatre laughing, shouting,
and clapping his hands, as if he had really seen some pathetic tragedy
acted to the life, when indeed all was no more than the strength of
imagination, and the efforts of delusion, while in all other respects
the same person behaved himself very discreetly was,
Sweet to his friends, to his wife, obliging, kind,
And so averse from a revengeful mind,
That had his men unsealed his bottled wine,
He would not fret, nor doggedly repine.
And when by a course of physic he was recovered from this frenzy, he
looked upon his cure so far from a kindness, that he thus reasons the
case with his friends:
This remedy, my friends, is worse i' th' main
Than the disease, the cure augments the pain;
My only hope is a relapse again,
And certainly they were the more mad of the two who endeavoured to
bereave him of so pleasing a delirium, and recall all the aches of his
head by dispelling the mists of his brain.
[Illustration: 169]
[Illustration: 173-174]
I have not yet determined whether it be proper to include all the
defects of sense and understanding under the common genius of madness.
For if anyone be so short-sighted as to take a mule for an ass, or so
shallowpated as to admire a paltry ballad for an elegant poem, he is not
thereupon immediately censured as mad. But if anyone let not only his
senses but his judgment be imposed upon in the most ordinary common
concerns, he shall come under the scandal of being thought next door to
a madman. As suppose any one should hear an ass bray, and should take it
for ravishing music; or if any one, born a beggar, should fancy himself
as great as a prince, or the like. But this sort of madness, if (as is
most usual) it be accompanied with pleasure, brings a great satisfaction
both to those who are possessed with it themselves, and those who deride
it in others, though they are not both equally frantic. And this species
of madness is of larger extent than the world commonly imagines. Thus
the whole tribe of madmen make sport among themselves, while one laughs
at another; he that is more mad many times jeering him that is less
so. But indeed the greater each man's madness is, the greater is his
happiness, if it be but such a sort as proceeds from an excess of folly,
which is so epidemical a distemper that it is hard to find any one man
so uninfected as not to have sometimes a fit or two of some sort of
frenzy. There is only this difference between the several patients, he
that shall take a broom-stick for a strait-bodied woman is without more
ado sentenced for a madman, because this is so strange a blunder as very
seldom happens; whereas he whose wife is a common jilt, that keeps a
warehouse free for all customers, and yet swears she is as chaste as an
untouched virgin, and hugs himself in his contented mistake, is scarce
taken notice of, because he fares no worse than a great many more of his
good-natured neighbours. Among these are to be ranked such as take an
immoderate delight in hunting, and think no music comparable to the
sounding of horns and the yelping of beagles; and were they to take
physic, would not question to think the most sovereign virtues to be
in the _album Graecum_ of a dog's, turd. When they have run down their
game, what strange pleasure they take in cutting of it up! Cows and
sheep may be slaughtered by common butchers, but what is killed in
hunting must be broke up by none under a gentleman, who shall throw down
his hat, fall devoutly on his knees, and drawing out a slashing hanger
(for a common knife is not good enough), after several ceremonies shall
dissect all the parts as artificially as the best skilled anatomist,
while all that stand round shall look very intently, and seem to be
mightily surprised with the novelty, though they have seen the same an
hundred times before; and he that can but dip his finger, and taste of
the blood, shall think his own bettered by it: and though the constant
feeding on such diet does but assimilate them to the nature of those
beasts they eat of, yet they will swear that venison is meat for
princes, and that their living upon it makes them as great as emperors.
[Illustration: 178]
Near a kin to these are such as take a great fancy for building: they
raise up, pull down, begin anew, alter the model, and never rest till
they run themselves out of their whole estate, taking up such a compass
for buildings, till they leave themselves not one foot of land to live
upon, nor one poor cottage to shelter themselves from cold and hunger:
and yet all the while are mighty proud of their contrivances, and sing a
sweet _requiem_ to their own happiness.
To these are to be added those plodding virtuosos, that plunder the most
inward recesses of nature for the pillage of a new invention, and rake
over sea and land for the turning up some hitherto latent mystery; and
are so continually tickled with the hopes of success, that they spare
for no cost nor pains, but trudge on, and upon a defeat in one attempt,
courageously tack about to another, and fall upon new experiments, never
giving over till they have calcined their whole estate to ashes, and
have not money enough left unmelted to purchase one crucible or limbeck.
And yet after all, they are not so much discouraged, but that they
dream fine things still, and animate others what they can to the like
undertakings; nay, when their hopes come to the last gasp, after all
their disappointments, they have yet one _salvo_ for their credit,
that:--
_In great exploits our bare attempts suffice._
And so inveigh against the shortness of their life, which allows them
not time enough to bring their designs to maturity and perfection.
[Illustration: Dice Players 182]
[Illustration: Dice Players-2 186]
Whether dice-players may be so favourably dealt with as to be admitted
among the rest is scarce yet resolved upon: but sure it is hugely vain
and ridiculous, when we see some persons so devoutly addicted to this
diversion, that at the first rattle of the box their heart shakes within
them, and keeps consort with the motion of the dice: they are egg'd on
so long with the hopes of always winning, till at last, in a literal
sense, they have thrown away their whole estate, and made shipwreck of
all they have, scarce escaping to shore with their own clothes to their
backs; thinking it in the meanwhile a great piece of religion to be just
in the payment of their stakes, and will cheat any creditor sooner than
him who trusts them in play: and that poring old men, that cannot tell
their cast without the help of spectacles, should be sweating at the
same sport; nay, that such decrepit blades, as by the gout have lost
the use of their fingers, should look over, and hire others to throw for
them. This indeed is prodigiously extravagant; but the consequence of it
ends so oft in downright madness, that it seems rather to belong to the
furies than to folly.
The next to be placed among the regiment of fools are such as make a
trade of telling or inquiring after incredible stories of miracles and
prodigies: never doubting that a lie will choke them, they will muster
up a thousand several strange relations of spirits, ghosts, apparitions,
raising of the devil, and such like bugbears of superstition, which the
farther they are from being probably true, the more greedily they are
swallowed, and the more devoudy believed. And these absurdities do not
only bring an empty pleasure, and cheap divertisement, but they are a
good trade, and procure a comfortable income to such priests and friars
as by this craft get their gain. To these again are nearly related such
others as attribute strange virtues to the shrines and images of saints
and martyrs, and so would make their credulous proselytes believe, that
if they pay their devotion to St. Christopher in the morning, they
shall be guarded and secured the day following from all dangers and
misfortunes: if soldiers, when they first take arms, shall come and
mumble over such a set prayer before the picture of St. Barbara, they
shall return safe from all engagements: or if any pray to Erasmus on
such particular holidays, with the ceremony of wax candles, and other
fopperies, he shall in a short time be rewarded with a plentiful
increase of wealth and riches. The Christians have now their gigantic
St. George, as well as the pagans had their Hercules; they paint the
saint on horseback, and drawing the horse in splendid trappings, very
gloriously accoutred, they scarce refrain in a literal sense from
worshipping the very beast. 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, and saleable exemptions? Or what can be said bad enough
of others, who pretend that by the force of such magical charms, or
by the fumbling over their beads in the rehearsal of such and such
petitions (which some religious impostors invented, either for
diversion, or what is more likely for advantage), they shall procure
riches, honour, pleasure, health, long life, a lusty old age, nay, after
death a sitting at the right hand of our Saviour in His kingdom; though
as to this last part of their happiness, they care not how long it
be deferred, having scarce any appetite toward a tasting the joys of
heaven, till they are surfeited, glutted with, and can no longer relish
their enjoyments on earth. By this easy way of purchasing pardons, any
notorious highwayman, any plundering soldier, or any bribe-taking judge,
shall disburse some part of their unjust gains, and so think all their
grossest impieties sufficiently atoned for; so many perjuries, lusts,
drunkenness, quarrels, bloodsheds, cheats, treacheries, and all sorts of
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
upon a new score.
[Illustration: Devil Teaching St. Bernard 190]
And what can be more ridiculous, than for some others to be confident of
going to heaven by repeating daily those seven verses out of the Psalms,
which the devil taught St. Bernard, thinking thereby to have put a trick
upon him, but that he was over-reached in his cunning.
Several of these fooleries, which are so gross and absurd, as I myself
am even ashamed to own, are practised and admired, not only by the
vulgar, but by such proficients in religion as one might well expect
should have more wit.
From the same principles of folly proceeds the custom of each country's
challenging their particular guardian-saint; nay, each saint has his
distinct office allotted to him, and is accordingly addressed to upon
the respective occasions: as one for the tooth-ache, a second to grant
an easy delivery in child-birth, a third to help persons to lost
goods, another to protect seamen in a long voyage, a fifth to guard the
farmer's cows and sheep, and so on; for to rehearse all instances would
be extremely tedious.
There are some more catholic saints petitioned to upon all occasions, as
more especially the Virgin Mary, whose blind devotees think it manners
now to place the mother before the Son.
And of all the prayers and intercessions that are made to these
respective saints the substance of them is no more than downright Folly.
Among all the trophies that for tokens of gratitude are hung upon the
walls and ceilings of churches, you shall find no relics presented as
a memorandum of any that were ever cured of Folly, or had been made one
dram the wiser. One perhaps after shipwreck got safe to shore; another
recovered when he had been run through by an enemy; one, when all his
fellow-soldiers were killed upon the spot, as cunningly perhaps as
cowardly, made his escape from the field; another, while he was a
hanging, the rope broke, and so he saved his neck, and renewed his
licence for practising his old trade of thieving; another broke gaol,
and got loose; a patient, against his physician's will, recovered of a
dangerous fever; another drank poison, which putting him into a violent
looseness, did his body more good than hurt, to the great grief of
his wife, who hoped upon this occasion to have become a joyful widow;
another had his waggon overturned, and yet none of his horses lamed;
another had caught a grievous fall, and yet recovered from the bruise;
another had been tampering with his neighbour's wife, and escaped very
narrowly from being caught by the enraged cuckold in the very act. After
all these acknowledgments of escapes from such singular dangers, there
is none (as I have before intimated) that return thanks for being freed
from Folly; Folly being so sweet and luscious, that it is rather sued
for as a happiness, than deprecated as a punishment But why should I
launch out into so wide a sea of superstitions?
_Had I as many tongues as Argus eyes, Briareus hands, they all would not
suffice Folly in all her shapes t' epitomise._
Almost all Christians being wretchedly enslaved to blindness and
ignorance, which the priests are so far from preventing or removing,
that they blacken the darkness, and promote the delusion; wisely
foreseeing that the people (like cows, which never give down their milk
so well as when they are gently stroked), would part with less if they
knew more, their bounty proceeding only from a mistake of charity. Now
if any grave wise man should stand up, and unseasonably speak the truth,
telling every one that a pious life is the only way of securing a happy
death; that the best title to a pardon of our sins is purchased by a
hearty abhorrence of our guilt, and sincere resolutions of amendment;
that the best devotion which can be paid to any saints is to imitate
them in their exemplary life: if he should proceed thus to inform them
of their several mistakes, there would be quite another estimate put
upon tears, watchings, masses, fastings, and other severities, which
before were so much prized, as persons will now be vexed to lose that
satisfaction they formerly found in them.
[Illustration: 194]
In the same predicament of fools are to be ranked such, as while they
are yet living, and in good health, take so great a care how they shall
be buried when they die, that they solemnly appoint how many torches,
how many escutcheons, how many gloves to be given, and how many mourners
they will have at their funeral; as if they thought they themselves in
their coffins could be sensible of what respect was paid to their
corpse; or as if they doubted they should rest a whit the less quiet in
the grave if they were with less state and pomp interred.
Now though I am in so great haste, as I would not willingly be stopped
or detained, yet I cannot pass by without bestowing some remarks upon
another sort of fools; who, though their first descent was perhaps no
better than from a tapster or tinker, yet highly value themselves upon
their birth and parentage. One fetches his pedigree from AEneas, another
from Brute, a third from king Arthur: they hang up their ancestors'
worm-eaten pictures as records of antiquity, and keep a long list of
their predecessors, with an account of all their offices and tides,
while they themselves are but transcripts of their forefathers' dumb
statues, and degenerate even into those very beasts which they carry
in their coat of arms as ensigns of their nobility: and yet by a strong
presumption of their birth and quality, they live not only the most
pleasant and unconcerned themselves, but there are not wanting others
too who cry up these brutes almost equal to the gods. But why should I
dwell upon one or two instances of Folly, when there are so many of like
nature. Conceitedness and self-love making many by strength of Fancy
believe themselves happy, when otherwise they are really wretched and
despicable. Thus the most ape-faced, ugliest fellow in the whole town,
shall think himself a mirror of beauty: another shall be so proud of his
parts, that if he can but mark out a triangle with a pair of compasses,
he thinks he has mastered all the difficulties of geometry, and could
outdo Euclid himself. A third shall admire himself for a ravishing
musician, though he have no more skill in the handling of any instrument
than a pig playing on the organs: and another that rattles in the throat
as hoarse as a cock crows, shall be proud of his voice, and think he
sings like a nightingale.
[Illustration: 199]
There is another very pleasant sort of madness, whereby persons assume
to themselves whatever of accomplishment they discern in others. Thus
the happy rich churl in Seneca, who had so short a memory, as he could
not tell the least story without a servant standing by to prompt him,
and was at the same time so weak that he could scarce go upright, yet he
thought he might adventure to accept a challenge to a duel, because he
kept at home some lusty, sturdy fellows, whose strength he relied upon
instead of his own.
[Illustration: 202]
It is almost needless to insist upon the several professors of arts and
sciences, who are all so egregiously conceited, that they would sooner
give up their title to an estate in lands, than part with the reversion
of their wits: among these, more especially stage-players, musicians,
orators, and poets, each of which, the more of duncery they have, and
the more of pride, the greater is their ambition: and how notoriously
soever dull they be, they meet with their admirers; nay, the more
silly they are the higher they are extolled; Folly (as we have before
intimated) never failing of respect and esteem. If therefore every one,
the more ignorant he is, the greater satisfaction he is to himself, and
the more commended by others, to what purpose is it to sweat and toil in
the pursuit of true learning, which shall cost so many gripes and
pangs of the brain to acquire, and when obtained, shall only make the
laborious student more uneasy to himself, and less acceptable to others?
As nature in her dispensation of conceited-ness has dealt with private
persons, so has she given a particular smatch of self-love to each
country and nation. Upon this account it is that the English challenge
the prerogative of having the most handsome women, of the being most
accomplished in the skill of music, and of keeping the best tables: the
Scotch brag of their gentility, and pretend the genius of their native
soil inclines them to be good disputants: the French think themselves
remarkable for complaisance and good breeding: the Sorbonists of Paris
pretend before any others to have made the greatest proficiency in
polemic divinity: the Italians value themselves for learning and
eloquence; and, like the Grecians of old, account all the world
barbarians in respect of themselves; to which piece of vanity the
inhabitants of Rome are more especially addicted, pretending themselves
to be owners of all those heroic virtues, which their city so many ages
since was deservedly famous for. The Venetians stand upon their birth
and pedigree. The Grecians pride themselves in having been the first
inventors of most arts, and in their country being famed for the product
of so many eminent philosophers. The Turks, and all the other refuse of
Mahometism, pretend they profess the only true religion, and laugh at
all Christians for superstitious, narrow-souled fools. The Jews to
this day expect their Messias as devoudy as they believe in their first
prophet Moses. The Spaniards challenge the repute of being accounted
good soldiers. And the Germans are noted for their tall, proper stature,
and for their skill in magick. But not to mention any more, I suppose
you are already convinced how great an improvement and addition to the
happiness of human life is occasioned by self-love: next step to
which is flattery; for as self-love is nothing but the coaxing up
of ourselves, so the same currying and humouring of others is termed
flattery.
[Illustration: 206]
Flattery, it is true, is now looked upon as a scandalous name, but it is
by such only as mind words more than things. They are prejudiced against
it upon this account, because they suppose it justles out all truth and
sincerity? whereas indeed its property is quite contrary, as appears
from the examples of several brute creatures. What is more fawning than
a spaniel?
And yet what is more faithful to his master? What is more fond
and loving than a tame squirrel? And yet what is more sporting and
inoffensive? This little frisking creature is kept up in a cage to play
withal, while lions, tigers, leopards, and such other savage emblems of
rapine and cruelty are shewn only for state and rarity, and otherwise
yield no pleasure to their respective keepers.