XXX. If we were to compare the anxieties incident to the one and the
other state, as we have done the pleasures, we should find, that by
much the greatest load of the first, would rest on the shoulders of
the rich; either from the greater sensibility of the subjects, or from
the greater magnitude, or multitude of their cares. The rich are of a
delicate texture, liable to be moved and disturbed with every blast, or
made of sonorous metal, which complains loudly at the gentlest touch.
They may be compared to a well at Chiapa, a Province in New Spain, from
which, by throwing in a small stone, you raise a horrible tempest.
Hence the furious perturbations which in the opulent, are produced by
slight causes. The Sultan Mahomed the Second, was seized with such a
barbarous rage upon missing a melon out of his garden, that he ordered
the stomachs of fourteen pages to be opened, to discover who had eaten
it. And Otho Antonio, Duke of Urbino, ordered one of his servants to
be burnt alive, for having neglected to wake him at the time he had
appointed.
XXXI. The toils of the great are also more in number, than those of the
poor. The larger the bulk of a man, the fairer mark he is for his enemy
to hit; and the greater the amplitude of his fortune, the larger the
space is exposed to the wounds of adversity. The rich are high towers,
the poor humble cottages, and the ray of lightning, oftner discharges
its fury on the tower, than on the cottage. One of the greatest
temporal evils that can befal a man, is a broken constitution, as the
greatest temporal blessing, is a robust state of health. And there
is no doubt, but that with equal stamina, a poor man is more healthy
than a rich one, because the last injures his health by his excesses,
and the other, preserves his by his sobriety. Of what avail are all a
great man’s riches to him, when he is oppressed by a fit of the gout?
(and the gout, by the way, is a distemper which seldom attacks the
poor.) I say what is he the better for them, if they cannot procure him
a remedy for the evil, nor even obtain him the least ease or relief?
While the fit lasts, he suffers pain; and when it is over, he endures
the terrors and apprehensions of fresh attacks. Solomon pronounced the
following sentence, which is applicable to all the rich: _Quid prodest
possessori, nisi quod cernat divitias oculis suis?_ Of what other
use are riches to a man who possesses vast treasures, than to feast
his eyes with the sight of them. But the sentence is more strongly
applicable, to an opulent man of a bad constitution, who is constantly
ailing.
XXXII. A great man has more cares, and consequently more to vex him,
than an humble one. More people are envious of him, and consequently
he has more enemies. He is desirous of aggrandizing his fortune still
more, and grieves at every little obstacle he meets with; which he
considers as a steep rock in the way of his pursuits. From those below
him, he expects more homage; and one only, as in the case of Mordecai
and Haman, refusing to bend the knee to him, is sufficient to make him
unhappy. He is anxious to be upon an equality with his superiors, and
when he sees any one, whom he looks upon as his equal, or his inferior,
step before him, he can hardly contain himself. There was a famous
painter, named Francis of France, rich, both in possessions and fame.
When this man was at Bolognia, he saw a figure of Saint Cecilia, which
had been painted by Raphael of Urbino, for a church in that city; and
seeing, and being sensible, how much he was outdone in the use of the
pencil, by that incomparable artist, it so affected him, that he fell
sick and died in a few days. It cannot be said with truth, that ever a
poor man died from such a cause, or of such an affection.
XXXIII. Fears and apprehensions, in which are contained the most severe
martyrdom of life; because by means of them, people endure all future,
and all possible evils, have their very nests in the hearts of the
great. He who is oppressed with evils, is always grieving; he who is
possessed of goods, is always fearing: and what is more afflicting
than perpetual terror? The dangers which threaten a great man, are
in proportion to the possible cases, of others enriching themselves
by despoiling, or murdering him; and though these are many, in his
imagination they are still more; so that riches are acquired by toil,
and preserved by anxiety. The inhabitants of Macasar, an Island in the
Indian Sea, have a custom of drawing some of their teeth, and putting
gold or silver ones in the place of them, which practice, cannot fail
to be troublesome and hurtful to them. Can any thing favour stronger
of barbarism, than the suffering a voluntary pain, only to gain an
inconvenience? Those fall into the same mistake, who pant for, and are
anxious in their pursuit after riches. They draw their teeth, that is,
they undergo great suffering in order to acquire more wealth; and in
the room of those they have parted with, they get teeth of gold and
silver, yes, but these are teeth, which in the end, will feed on, and
gnaw their own hearts. It is very remarkable, that in the age of gold
and silver, (according to the description given, and the division made
of the four ages by the poets,) there was no gold or silver to be met
with, but these metals made their appearance in the age of iron. Thus
Ovid, speaking of this age:
-------- _Itum est in viscera terræ_
_Quasque recondiderat, Stygiisque admoverat umbris_
_Effodiuntur opes irritamenta malorum._
_Famque nocens ferrum, ferroque nocentius aurum_
_Prodierat, prodit bellum quod pugnat utroque._
XXXIV. The age of gold passed without gold, and was therefore the
Golden Age, that is fortunate and happy. In the age of iron, there was
gold, and on that account, it was called the Iron Age, that is, it was
harsh and toilsome.
XXXV. Lucan, in his fifth Book of the Civil War, makes a fine
digression upon the happiness of the poor boatman, Amiclas, when he
paints Cæsar, in the silence of the night, tapping at the door of
his cabbin to awake him, and make him rise, and carry him with all
possible haste to Calabria. All the world was agitated, and trembling
with the movements of the civil war; and within Greece itself, which
is the theatre of the war, in the very neighbourhood of the armies, a
poor boatman on dried sheep skins, sleeps without fear. The strokes
of the generous leader at his door awake him, without producing the
least surprize in his breast; for although he was not ignorant, that
the whole face of the country was covered with troops, he knew very
well, there was nothing in his cabbin to invite military insults. O
life of the poor, exclaims the poet, in which is contained the felicity
of being exempt from outrages. O poverty! thou greatest blessing of
heaven, although not recognized or justly valued by men. What palaces
or what temples were there, which enjoyed the privilege of Amiclas and
his cabbin, neither of which, could be made to tremble at the strokes
of the robust hand of Cæsar!
-------- _O vita tuta facultas_
_Pauperis, angustique lares! O munera nondum_
_Intellecta divûm. Quibus hoc contingere templis;_
_Aut potuit muris, nullo trepidare tumultu_
_Cæsarea pulsante manu!_
XXXVI. It is not to be wondered at, that temples and palaces should be
shaken, when cottages remain secure; because in temples and palaces,
riches are kept, therefore in them, there is no being free from
alarms. If we compare the fortune of Amiclas, with the lives of Cæsar
and Pompey, who were all contemporaries; how brilliant were theirs,
how obscure was his; but if you consider them prudently, how much
preferable was that of Amiclas. Those ambitious heroes, whose elevated
splendor, made the world regard them as two suns, were in reality no
more than parahelions, or suns in appearance only, false reflections,
stamped in the inconstancy of flying clouds. How far were they from
happy, each being constantly tormented with the jealousy of the other’s
power.
_Et jam nemo ferre potest, Cæsar ve priorem_
_Pompeiusve parem._
XXXVII. They contend for the Empire, hazarding in the competition, life
and liberty. How each is possessed, with the fear of his rival becoming
victorious; what miserable forsaken man, did fortune ever place in such
a strait, that in order to better his condition, he should be obliged
like Cæsar, in the dead of the night, to commit himself to the rage of
a tempestuous sea? Amiclas, at the same time, knows no other cares,
than those of exploring the sea, and spreading his nets to dry in the
sun. Others are agitated and tossed about on the plains, and in the
fields, while he is secure amidst the waves. He catches fish in the
sea, while others on land fish for tempests. At the expence of a little
labour, the water affords him as much as is necessary to support life;
when the great fatigues of Cæsar and Pompey, serve only to precipitate
on them a violent death. The din of so much martial noise, disturbs
not his rest; while each of the two chiefs, finds in his own heart, a
continual alarm to awaken him. He fears nobody, because no one covets
his fortune; but if any body should be so prudent as to covet it, he
may enjoy the same thing, without despoiling Amiclas. Cæsar and Pompey
for the present, mutually fear each other. The vanquished person in
future, fears all the world, and the conqueror has to fear all those
who envy him.
XXXVIII. The heathen poets, feigned poverty to be a divinity, on
account of the mischiefs it preserved people from, and the goods it
produced; but Lucan, calls it the mother of great men; and Horace says,
that to this deity, the Romans owed the virtues of a Curius, and a
Camillus. Aristophanes the Greek, erred much in his description, when
he represented her as a savage fury, always ready to commit acts of
desperation. These extraordinary furies, are much more common among
the rich, than the poor, although it is true, that they rage with the
greatest violence, in such poor people as have been formerly rich;
at least, during the time they are in the noviciate state of their
misfortunes.