The Design of This Fable is to set forth the Advantages of a Private
Life, above those of a Publick; which are certainly very Great, if the
Blessings of Innocence, Security, Meditation, Good Air, Health, and
Sound Sleeps, without the Rages of Wine, and Lust, or the Contagion of
Idle Examples, can make them so: For every Thing there, is Natural and
Gracious. There’s the Diversion of All Healthful Exercises for the Body;
The Entertainment of the Place, and of the Rivers, without any base
Interest to Corrupt, either the Virtue, or the Peace of our Lives. He
that’s a Slave in the Town is a kind of a Petty Prince in the Country.
He loves his Neighbours, without Pride, and lives in Charity with the
Whole World. All that he sees is his Own, as to the Delight of it,
without Envying the Prosperity. His Doors are not troubled with either
Dunns, or Fools, and he has the Sages of All Times in his Cabinet for
his Companions. He lives to Himself as well as to the World, without
Brawles or Quarrels, of any sort whatsoever. He sees no Bloody Murders;
He hears No Blasphemous Execrations; He Lives Free from the Plagues of
Jealousie and Envy: And This is the Life in fine, that the Greatest, and
the Wisest Men in the World, Have, or would have made Choice of, if Cares
and Business had not Hinder’d them from so Great a Blessing.
’Tis against Common Justice to pass Sentence without hearing Both sides:
And the Only way to come to a True Estimate upon the Odds betwixt a
Publick and a Private Life, is to Try Both. Virtue is only Glorious in
the Native Simplicity of it, and while it holds no Communication with
Interest, Fancy, Sense, or Ornament: Wherefore _Æsop_ has done Wisely to
cast the Issue of the Question upon the Experiment, _Far from_ Jupiter
(says the _Adage_) _far from the Thunder_. What signifies the Splendor,
and the Luxury of Courts, considering the Slavish Attendances, the
Invidious Competitions, and the Mortal Disappointments that go along
with it. The Frowns of Princes, and the Envy of those that Judge by
Hearsay, or Appearance; without either Reason, or Truth! To say nothing
of the Innumerable Temptations, Vices, and Excesses, of a Life of Pomp,
and Pleasure. Let a man but set the Pleasing of his Palate against the
Surfeits of Gluttony and Excess, The Starving of his Mind against a
Pamper’d Carcase; The Restless Importunities of Tale-bearers and Back
Friends, against Fair Words and Professions only from the Teeth outward:
Let him, I say, but set the One in Ballance against the Other, and he
shall find himself Miserable, even in the very Glutt of his Delights. To
say All in a Word; Let him but set the Comforts of a Life spent in Noise,
Formality, and Tumult, against the Blessings of a Retreat with Competency
and Freedom, and then Cast up his Account.
What Man then, that is not stark Mad, will Voluntarily Expose himself to
the Imperious Brow-beatings and Scorns of Great Men! to have a Dagger
struck to his Heart in an Embrace; To be torn to pieces by Calumny,
nay to be a Knave in his own Defence! for the Honester the Worse, in a
Vicious Age, and where ’tis a Crime not to be like the Company. Men of
that Character are not to be Read, and Understood by their Words, but by
their Interests; their Promises and Protestations are no longer Binding
then while they are Profitable. But _Baudoin_ has done so well upon this
Fable, that there needs no more to be said to’t.