XXV. Truly, I have now pursued the comparison of the one and the
other fortune, through the most difficult part, having drawn into the
parallel, the most elevated, and the most abased, the sovereign state,
and that of beggary. I did not intend so much when I began to write
this chapter, but the pen took a flight without my being aware of it,
towards the extreme of both the extremities. So much was not necessary,
but as it is done, let us suppose that we have conquered all the
difficulty at the first onset; because, if he who is under the feet of
fortune, is equal to him who treads the summit of her wheel; the reason
is stronger, for supposing him who has no more than what is required to
provide things that are precisely necessary, equal to the man, who is
possessed of a princely fortune.
XXVI. The truth is, if we are to speak out, that he is not only equal,
but superior. Upon a superficial view, the rich man appears to be
better accommodated, and exposed to fewer inconveniencies than the
poor one, but if you search to the bottom, you will find the reverse.
The rich man has great abundance, and variety of delicious eatables;
but do they taste more savoury to him, than his common coarse food
to the poor one? no, nor so savoury, for the appetite with which the
poor man sits down to table, more than compensates, for the advantage
derived to the rich one by his excess. Of what consequence is it to the
bees of Lithuania, a rude and unpleasant country, that they have not
such beautiful and odoriferous flowers to gather from, as the bees of
other countries; if from their own trifling and unpleasing ones, they
extract the sweetest and best-flavoured honey that is to be found in
all Europe? The rich man lays himself down on a feather-bed, but does
he sleep more, or better than a poor one on a truss of straw? You
see that the poor man, always rises chearful and pleasant, and that
the other, often complains of having passed an uneasy night. How many
people slept sweetly on the hard ground, the same night, that king
Ahasuerus not being able to take rest, was constrained to amuse himself
with reading the annals of his Kingdom! The rich defend themselves
from the rigours of cold, with thick walls, tapestry hangings, and
furred garments; but observe, and you will find, that they complain
more of the intemperance of the season, shut up within the walls of
their palaces, than the shepherd covered with skins, on the heights
of the mountain. David, when he was grown old, found it difficult to
defend himself from the cold, with all the covering he could put on,
when at the same time, many antient labourers, with half the cloathing,
made light of the frosts. You will see at every turn, an opulent man
trembling, and expressing his extreme sensations of cold, whenever he
is obliged to leave the fire-side, while at the same time, the common
people are passing chearfully along the street. The same difference
is observeable in summer. The rich man is low spirited and oppressed
with lassitude, and scarce ventures to go up stairs or down; while the
common people, with alacrity and chearfulness, apply themselves to
whatever falls in their way. So that what Dionysius of Sicily, said
of the golden cloak, which covered the statue of Jupiter, by way of
furnishing a pretence to plunder it, may be applied to the riches of
opulent people; which was, that a cloth cloak was better, because the
golden one in winter, did not defend him from the cold, and in summer,
it fatigued him with its weight. The opulent man, inhabits a capacious
and commodious palace, and never contented, he is always thinking of
enlarging or improving it, but the thought of his habitation being too
confined, scarce ever occurs to a poor man in the whole course of a
year.
XXVII. The rich man wears fine holland, the poor one coarse dowlas;
but tell me, if you ever heard a poor man complain, that the roughness
of the dowlas was unpleasant to, or gave him bodily uneasiness. The
rich man is idle, and the poor one at work all the day; but you will
not observe, that the poor man is more sad at his work, than the rich
one in his state of indolence; on the contrary, and especially if he
works in company, his time passes merrily, and he goes on singing and
chanting through the whole course of his labour. When that is over,
his relaxation is not like that of the rich, an insipid indolence,
but sweet repose, and in the conclusion, soft and uninterrupted sleep
recompences the labour of the day. The rich, on the contrary, (as
sleep does not sit easy on members which have not been exercised,)
restless and impatient, turns a thousand times in his bed; so that
the poor man may be said to work by day, and the rich one by night.
In case of going a journey, it is true, the rich man travels either
on horseback or in a coach, and the poor one on foot. Notwithstanding
which, the rich man is more sensible of the inclemency of the weather,
and is much more affected by an incommodious lodging-room, a hard bed,
and the want of refreshment than the poor one; to whom, by his being
accustomed to them, such things are familiar, and consequently they do
not make him uneasy. I, in my journies, have remarked, that the lad
who attended me on foot, seemed much less sensible of the difficulties
and inconveniencies of the road, than myself. You may add to this, the
dread of thieves, from whom the poor have nothing to fear, when the
rich, behind the trunk of every tree they come near, fancy they see a
robber.
XXVIII. If we would weigh the pleasures of one and the other state, we
should attend to the remark of Seneca before cited: _Inspice pauperum,
& divitum vultus._ You will observe the poor, chearful in their
conversation, laughing from their hearts at their rustic balls, and in
all appearance truly happy: _Sæpius pauper, & fidelius ridet._ On the
contrary, you will see the rich, even at their festive meetings, seem
tired and surfeited. At least, happiness does not shine so brilliant
in their countenances, as in those of the poor.
XXIX. All these disproportions, spring from, or grow out of one general
principle, which is this; nature left to herself, is contented with
a little, but by attempting to polish her, you fashion her into a
fantastical lady, who craves every thing, and despises every thing.
A human heart with three ventricles, in the year 1699, was presented
to the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, as the most monstrous
production that had ever been seen; but morally and politically
speaking, it is a monster we see every day. The human heart, naturally
contains but two large cavities; but if you fill these with worldly
goods, a succession of others will begin to open, and others still
without end. Pleasure and delight, are nothing to a man who does not
consider and feel them as such, and no man considers that as a regale,
which he is used and accustomed to; or which is adapted and familiar
to his own sphere of life. Therefore delicate food, is delicate to
him only, who has been used to eat plain victuals; but dainties, are
familiar and common things to the man who has been accustomed to feed
on them, and therefore, he craves something more exquisite. Even
variety itself, to him who is used to vary his objects every day, that
they may tally with his inclinations, loses all the enchantment which
it originally contained. A poor man tastes more pleasure in feeding on
a common fish at his own homely board, than Caius Hirtius, in eating
with great pomp, his most regaling Murenas; and he is more happy, when
he adds to his inheritance a foot of land, than Alexander was, when he
added to his conquests the City of Tyre.