“Ipsi in defossis specubus, secura subaltâOtia agunt terrâ, congestaque robora tolasqueAdvolvere focis ulmos, ignique dedere.Hic noctem ludo ducunt, et pocula lætiFermento, atque acidis imitantur vitea sorbis.”2aSecure, in quiet ease, they dwell in cavesDeep dug in earth, and to their chimneys rollWhole oaks and elms entire, which flames devour.Here all the night, in sport and merry glee,They pass and imitate, with acid service,By fermentation vinous made, the grape.The Thracians intoxicate themselves by swallowing the fumes of certain herbs, which they cast into the fire.The Babylonians, according to Herodotus, used likewise to get drunk, by swallowing the fumes of certain herbs that they burned.Strabo reports, That the Indians made a certain drink with sugar canes, which made them merry; very probably not unlike what we now call rum.Benso, in his History of America, says the same of the inhabitants of the island of Hispaniola, and several other provinces of America.Pliny and Athenæus tell us, that the Egyptians fuddled themselves with a drink made of barley; by this it seems the liquor of Sir John Barley-Corn is very ancient.Leri3, in his Voyage to Brazil, tells us, That the inhabitants of that country are as great drinkers as the Germans, Flemings, Lansquenets,Swiss: and all those merry gentleman who love carousing, and drink supernaculum, ought to agree, that they are even with them. Their drink is made of certain roots, which they boil and ferment, and is then called by them in their language,cahou-in. The author adds, “That he has seen them not only drink three days and nights successively without ceasing, but that they were so very drunk, that they could swallow no more till they had disgorged, which was in order to begin again.“There4grows in the Eastern countries certain particular drugs, with which the inhabitants are wonderfully delighted, and which produce a kind of drunkenness, or agreeable folly, which continues some time. They are so much accustomed to the use of these drugs, by a long habit, that they imagine that life must be very sad and unhappy without them. The Indians and Persians have their bangué, the Egyptians their bola, and the Turks their opium.”In relation to the Persians, Tavernier5has these words, viz. “They have a sort of drink to divert and make themselves merry, whichthey call kokemaar, made of poppy-seeds boiled. They drink it scalding hot; and there are particular houses, called kokemaar kronè, where people meet, and give a great deal of pleasure and delight to those who see the ridiculous postures which this kind of liquor makes them perform. Before it operates they quarrel with one another, and give abusive language, without coming to blows; afterwards when the drug begins to have its effect, then they also begin to make peace. One compliments in a very high degree, another tells stories, but all are extremely ridiculous both in their words and actions.” And after having spoken of other liquors that they make use of, he adds, “It is difficult to find in Persia a man that is not addicted to some one of these liquors, without which they think they cannot live but very unpleasantly.”I take no notice here of that admirable drink called Punch with us; nor Juniper-water, (vulgarly called Geneva, a corruption from the French word Genevre, which signifies the same thing,) nor that dram called All-fours, which have such wonderful effects on the wretched commonalty.1.Virgil.GeorgicsI.54.2.Const. et Jul. lib. 16.2a.Virgil,GeorgicsIII.376-380.3.P. 126, ed. 1594.4.L’Emer. des Alim. part iii. ch. 2.5.T. 1, lib. v. ch. 17.CHAP. XIX.OTHER CONSIDERATIONS IN FAVOUR OF DRUNKENNESS.Drunkennesswill (and ought to do so) appear excusable to people the most sober, if they would but make these two reflections following, viz.I.That drunkards are not generally given to lewdness.Aristotle says, “That too much drinking makes one very improper for the acts of Venus, and gives his reasons. Athenæus reports the same thing in that passage, where he makes mention of the drunkenness of Alexander the Great, a vice,” says he, “which, perhaps, was the cause of his little inclination for the ladies.”Montaigne1speaks very well on this article,“These,” says he, “are two things which vigorously oppose each other; this weakens our stomach on one hand; whereas, on the other, sobriety serves to make us more quaint and delicate in the exercise of love.”Ovid2says much the same thing.“Vina parant animum veneri, nisi plurima sumas,Ut stupeant multo corda sepulta mero.”Wine, not too much, inspires, and makes the mindTo the soft joys of Venus strong inclin’d,Which buried in excess, unapt to love,Stupidly lies, and knows not how to move.II.That in those countries where they do not drink to excess, they are very much addicted to debauchery.It is certain, that in hot countries they drink a great deal less than they do in cold, but in lieu of that, lewdness reigns much more. Montaigne3, after having observed, that they began to drink less than they used to do, adds, “Doesany one think it tends to amendment? No, indeed; but, perhaps, we are much more given to whoring than our forefathers.”This puts me in mind of an Italian, who having reproached a German with the drunkenness of his country, by these verses, viz.“Germani multos possunt tolerare laboresO utinam possint tam tolerare sitim.”The Germans (patient) toil, inur’d to pain,Oh! could they but their thirst so well sustain!The German answered him extempore in these other two:—“Ut nos vitis amor, sic vos Venus improba vexatEst data lex veneri Julia, nulla mero.”As we love wine, so wicked Venus you,Twasthis, notthat, the Julian Edict knew.In order to draw a consequence from all this, let us speak once more of Montaigne4, whose words are, “And if we cannot give any pleasure but what costs us something, as the ancientsmaintain, I find this vice costs the conscience less than all the rest, besides, it is in this respect no despicable consideration, that a man advanced in honours, amongst three principal conveniencies of life, that he told me he yet enjoyed, he reckoned this for one.”After having shewn, in the foregoing chapters, That drunkenness reigns all the world over,Nulla in parte mundi cessat ebrietas. Let us see what we may hence infer in its favour: and I ask, if the agreement of so many different nations, to do one and the same thing, proves nothing, and may not, in some measure, serve as an apology for drunkenness? For if one considers, that the surprising variety of the humour and temperament of men, do, notwithstanding, in nowise hinder them from agreeing unanimously in this point, one shall have a very strong temptation to believe, that the desire of getting drunk is an innate quality, and we shall be confirmed in this sentiment, after tasting experimentally the exquisite sweetness caused by drunkenness.To conclude,All drink, throughout the universe, ’tis plain,The moon drinks up the sea, the earth the rain,The sun the air, and ev’ry tree, we know,The earth’s prolific juice imbibes to grow.The air sups up the water too, ’tis said,Why then, my dearest friends, d’ye plague my head,And angry grow, because, dry soul5, I swillNew wine, drink fit for gods, and quaff my fill.1.Essais, l. ii. ch. 2.2.De Remed. Amor.3.Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.4.Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.5.Anima mea non potest habitare in sicco. S. Aug.CHAP. XX.AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT DRUNKENNESS CAUSES INFINITE EVILS.Afterhaving specified the good qualities of drunkenness, let us now answer some frivolous objections that may be made against what we have here advanced. For example, people willnot be wanting immediately to object, that drunkenness has been the cause of infinite evils.To this I answer, that it has been only the cause of these evils when people have pushed it too far, and not observed the rules they ought to keep in drinking, and which we shall see here prescribed by and by. For where do we find that any one, of so many grave philosophers that used to get drunk, made any disorders? It was for this reason that Chrisippus’s maid said, That her master was drunk in the hams. And it was on this very account, perhaps, that the Stoics said of their sage, “That he was, indeed, to be overcome with wine, but would not, however, be drunk,Vino obrutum iri non ebrium tamen futurum.”On the other hand, without being willing to excuse those disorders which drunkenness has been the cause of, one may say, nevertheless, that some of these disorders have produced effects highly advantageous. “Suppose, for example, that Lot had not got drunk, and his two daughters had not been possessed with the furious desire of having children, and the fear of dying maids, you ruin, by this means, whole families, whobore a great part in the wonderful events of the children of Israel1.”Their high mightinesses the States of Holland, have eternal obligations to drunkenness, since to this they owe, in some sort, the establishment of their republic, which was after this manner, according to Strada:—2The same day that Brederode, accompanied by above two hundred gentlemen, had presented that famous petition to Margaret of Parma, who then governed the Netherlands, he gave a magnificent entertainment in the house of the Count of Culenbourg, there was no want of drinking; and as they saw the Count of Hoocstrate, who by chance passed that way, they began, with a great deal of joy, to give one another the name of Gueux3; upon which taking each of them all together great glasses in their hands, they made vows and oaths to each other by the name of Gueux, and cried out with one voice and general applause, Long live the Gueux! After which they promised mutual fidelity; andthe Prince of Orange and the Counts of Egmont and Horn coming to them, they began to drink again, and with great acclamation renewed vows and wishes with these new comers, as they had already done, for the Gueux. At last, in the heat of wine, they took those vigorous resolutions, the effects of which were afterwards seen, which was the liberty of the United Provinces.1.Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. du Calvin.2.Strada de Bello Belgico, part i. lib. 5.3.The French word for beggars.CHAP. XXI.AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT THE MIRTH WHICH WINE INSPIRES IS CHIMERICAL.Itwill be objected, without doubt, that the mirth which wine inspires is imaginary, and without any foundation, and that, as Boileau has it,“Rien n’est beau que le vrai. Le vrai seul est aimable.”Nothing so beautiful as what is true,That it is only lovely is its due.I very willingly own, that this joy and mirth is nothing else than the effect of our imagination.Full well I’m satisfied ’tis nothing allBut a deceitful hope, less solid far,A thousand times, than is the moving sand;But are not all things so with wretched man?All things soon pass away like rapid streamsWhich hasten to the sea, where lost for everIn th’ ocean’s vast abyss unknown they lie.Our wisest wishes and desires are vain,Abstracted vanities, gay painted bubbles,That break when touch’d, and vanish into air.Love, wisdom, knowledge, riches, phantoms all.But before we thoroughly refute this objection, I shall observe by the way, that errors and illusions are necessary to the world. “1In general, indeed, it is true to say, that the world, as it is now, cannot keep itself in the same condition,were not men full of a thousand false prejudices and unreasonable passions; and if philosophy went about to make men act according to the clear and distinct ideas of reason, we might, perhaps, be satisfied, that mankind would quickly be at an end. Errors, passions, prejudices, and a hundred other the like faults, are as a necessary evil to the world. Men would be worth nothing for this world, were they cured, and the greatest part of the things which now take up our time, would be useless, as Quintilian well knew, namely, eloquence.Things are in this condition, and will not easily change, and we may wait long enough for such a happy revolution, before we shall be able to say, with Virgil,“Magnus ab integro sæculorum nascitur ordo.”1aA series long of ages now appear,Entirely new to man, before unknown.On the other hand, “2If you take away from man every thing that is chimerical, whatpleasure will you leave him? Pleasures are not things so solid, as to permit us to search them to the bottom; one must only just touch them and away. They resemble boggy and moorish ground, we must run lightly over them, without ever letting our feet make the least impression.”No, wheresoe’er we turn our wishing eye,True pleasures never can our souls enjoy.Let us add, “3That if we did not help to deceive ourselves, we should never enjoy any pleasure at all. The most agreeable things in this world are, in the bottom, so trivial, that they would not much affect us, if we made but never so little serious reflection upon them. Pleasures are not made to be strictly examined into, and we are obliged every day to pass over a great many things in them, about which it would not be proper to make one-self uneasy.”Besides, “4Is not the illusion we enjoy asvaluable as the good we possess? M. Fontenelle makes a very excellent observation hereupon in these verses5:—“Souvent en s’attachant a des fantômes vainsNotre raison seduite avec plaisir s’egare.Elle-même joüit des objets qu’elle a feints.Et cette illusion pour quelque tems repareLe defaut des vrais biens que la Nature avareN’a pas accordez aux humains.”Often enchanted by the ’luring charmsOf phantoms gay, our reason all seduc’d,With pleasure roams thro’ endlessdesartswild,Enjoys the objects which herself has form’d.And this illusion for some time repairsThe want of real joys, which niggard NatureNever has granted to unhappy man.“Enjoyment,” says Montaigne6, “and possession, belong principally to imagination, which embraces more eagerly that which it is in pursuit of, than that which we have in our power.”And certainly, one may pronounce them happy, who thus amuse themselves, and believe themselves to be so. And indeed, when a man is so far gone in this persuasion, every thing that is alleged to the contrary is rejected as a fable.But to shew, at present, the reality, if one may say so, of mere illusion, we need go no farther than the poets, who are certainly the happiest mortals living in that respect.To instance no more, there’s Mr.————, who would fain be a rhimer, and that is his folly; but though the poor man, for his insipid verses, and improper epithets, richly deserves our pity, yet is he wonderfully pleased with his performances, and with a great deal of tranquillity mounts up Parnassus, in his own conceit, in loftier tracts than Virgil or Theocritus ever knew. But, alas! what would become of him, if some audacious person should dare unbind his eyes, and make him see his weak and graceless lines, which, however smoothly they may run, are, at best, but exquisitely dull; contain terms that have no meaning in them, and have no other ornament, but unintelligible jingle, andinitial letters? How would he curse the day which deprived his senseless soul of that happy error that so much charmed his thoughts, and amused his imagination?What is here said of the poets is applicable to all mankind; and so a man, whom any one should undertake to persuade, that the mirth and joy inspired by wine is chimerical, would do well to answer him, after the manner as a certain madman did the doctor that cured him. The story is this:—Once upon a time a certain bigot, otherwise a man of sense, had his brain a little touched with whimsies, and continually fancied he heard the heavenly music of the blessed spirits. At last a physician, very expert in his profession, cured him, either by his skill, or by chance, no matter which; but when he came to demand his fees; for what? says the other, in a violent passion, by your damned slip-slops and hellish art, you have robbed me of my Paradise, though you have cured me of my error. This I borrow from Boileau7, as he did from Horace8.“9There are,” says Pere Bouhours, writing to Bussi Rabutin, “agreeable errors, which are much more valuable than that which the Spaniards called desengano, and which might be called in our language disabusement, if this word, which one of our best writers has ventured upon, had been received.”We shall conclude with M. de Sacy10, “That it is not always doing mankind an agreeable service to dissipate their illusions.” And we say of those who taste those satisfactions wine inspires, what M. Bayle says very pleasantly of news-mongers who are still in hopes of what they wish for. “They are11,” says he, “the least unhappy, whatever happens. There is a great deal of reality in their agreeable sentiments, how chimerical soever their foundation may be; so that they do not willingly suffer themselves to be disabused; and they sometimes say, when one gives them reasons why they should believe the news, that makes them so joyful, is doubtful orabsolutely false, Why do you envy us the pleasures we enjoy? Do not disturb our entertainment, or rob us of what we hold most dear. A friend more opposite to error than charity is a very troublesome reasoner; and if he meddles with their chimeras they will endeavour to do him a diskindness.”We come now to another objection, and that is, that this joy inspired by wine is but of a very short continuance; and the pleasure one tastes in so short a space, dearly repaid with a long and tedious uneasiness.Ebrietas unius horæ hilarem insaniam longo temporis tedio pensat.I own that it is a very great misery, that our pleasures are so short: and the shorter too, the more exquisite they are. And, perhaps, this may be a kindness to us, since some are so superlatively so, that should they continue a much longer space, mankind could not support themselves under these ecstacies. But be this as it will, can we make them otherwise than they are? We must therefore have patience, and take them as we find them. In short, there is no present happiness in the world; all we can do, is tobe contented with the present, not uneasy at what is to come, but sweeten with an equality of soul the bitter miseries of human life.1.Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. de Calvin, p. 516.1a.Virgil,EcloguesIV.5.2.Fontenelle Dial. d’Elisab. et du D. d’Alençon.3.Fontenelle Dial. des Morts de Callirh. et de Paulin.4.Nov. Dial. des Dieux. p. 68.5.Poesies Pastor.6.Essais, lib. iii. ch. 9.7.Satire iv. M. la Vayer.8.Lib. ii. ep. 2.9.Lett. de Rab. t. iii. lett. 63.10.De l’Amitié, p. 2.11.Rep. aux Quest. d’un Prov. t. i. ch. 20.CHAP. XXII.AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT ONE LOSES ONE’S REASON IN GETTING DRUNK.Itis objected here, that reason ought to be the motive of all our actions; and, of consequence, that we ought not voluntarily to lose it.To this objection I answer several ways:— First and foremost then, I say, people do well to talk to us so much of reason, when almost all mankind acts without reason, so that it may pass for a thing that has no manner of existence but in the imagination. We shall prove this from M. Bayle. “1We are defined,” says he, “a reasonableanimal. A very fine definition indeed, when none of us do any thing but without reason. I assure you, sir, that one may say of reason, what Euripides said in the beginning of one of his tragedies, and which afterwards was corrected, on account of the murmurings of the people. O Jupiter, for of thee I know nothing but only the name! In relation to the faculty I am talking of, we know nothing more of it than that, so that we may well laugh at the complaints of that heathen philosopher, who found that reason was a very troublesome present sent to us by the gods for our ruin; for he supposed, that reason busied herself in our affairs, whereas the truth of it is she never meddles in the least with them. We act nothing but with prejudice, by instinct, by self-love, and the sudden starts of a thousand passions, which drag and turn our reason as they will, insomuch that one may most justly define the principle which rules and domineers over us, a mass of prejudices and passions which knows how to draw consequences. I remember to have seen a man, who having never heard mention made of the Cotta of Cicero, said nevertheless as well as he, that it would have beenmuch better that God had not made us reasonable, since reason poisons all our affairs, and makes us ingenious to afflict ourselves, upon which a certain person said to him in raillery, That he had what he desired; that he had received so small a share of reason that it was not worth his while to complain. For my part, I turned the thing otherwise, that people were much in the wrong to murmur against reason, since it is not that which guides us; and that it is not too possible it should, without overthrowing the order which has reigned so long in the world. The learned Erasmus, continued I, deserves the highest praise in this respect; he has written The Praise of Folly, wherein he shews that she sheds every where her influence, and without her, the whole world would in a short time be turned topsy turvy. I make no doubt, sir, but you know the merit of that work. The author speaks, though in a merry manner, the greatest truths in the world; and I do not know whether he believed himself as profound a philosopher, as he really was in that ingenious satire.”Secondly, This is not all, “2It is sometimes necessary, for the general good of the world, to follow prejudices, popular errors, and the blind instincts of nature, rather than the distinct ideas of reason.” Mr. Bayle extends himself farther on this idea in another place3, which I shall here insert. “Errors,” says he, “irregular passions, and unreasonable prejudices, are so necessary to the world to make it a theatre of that prodigious diversity of events which make one admire his providence. So that he who would reduce men to do nothing but according to the distinct ideas of reason, would ruin civil society. If man was reduced to this condition, he would have no longer any desire of glory; and having no longer that desire, is it not true, that then mankind would be like ice? I say, he would have no desire of glory, for right reason shews us, that we should not make our happiness depend on the judgment of other men; and consequently, that we should not toil and fatigue ourselves, to make other people say this, or that, ofus——.The earnest desire of being praised after death is an instinct of morality that God has impressed in the mind of man, to keep up society. And it is certain, that earnest desire has been the cause of the greatest events; and this ought to instruct us that the world stands in need of a great many instincts, which, examined according to the ideas of our reason, are ridiculous and absurd. For there is nothing so opposite to reason as to torment ourselves in this life, that we may be praised after we are dead, since neither philosophy, nor experience, nor faith, nor any thing whatsover, makes it appear, that the praises given us after death can do us any good. It would be a thing uneasy to the heart of man, if we did nothing but according to the light of reason; and how many designs would come to nothing at the same time?”Thirdly, Besides, reason very often serves for nothing but to make us wretched. “The happiness of man is never the work of reason.” Of all our evils reason is often the worst; it frightens us in the full career of our pleasures, and with importunate remorses comes to bridle our fleet desires. The horrid thing reserves for us mostcruel and matchless rigours. It is like a troublesome pedant one is forced to hear, who always growls, but never touches us, and frequently like D———, and such like venerable impertinents, lose the time they employ in predication.“If there be any happiness4,” says Fontenelle, “that reason produces, it is like that sort of health which cannot be maintained but by the force of physic, and which is ever most feeble and uncertain.” And in another place he cries out, “5Can we not have sound sight without being at the same time wretched and uneasy? Is there any thing gay but error? And is reason made for any thing else but to torment and kill us?” “6What cause have not men to bewail their wretched condition? Nature furnishes them but with a very few things that are agreeable, and their reason teaches them how to enjoy them yet less.” “7And why has Nature, in giving us passions which are sufficient to makeus happy, given us reason, that will not suffer us to be so?”It was this same troublesome reason that made Sophocles say, “8It is very sweet to live, but none of your wisdom, away with her, she spoils life.”Vaunt less thy reason, O unhappy man!Behold how useless is this gift celestial,For which, they say, thou should’st the rest disdain.Feeble as thou wert in thy infant days,Like thee she mov’d, she totter’d, and was weak.When age mature arriv’d, and call’d to pleasures,Slave to thy sense, she still was so to thee,When fifty winters, Fate had let thee count;Pregnant with thousand cares and worlds of woes,The hateful issue in thy breast she threw,And now grown old thou loosest her for ever.Before I end this chapter, let every body take notice, that if for having spoken so much against reason, any one should say, that it is a plain sign the author has none; and that there are agreat many others, who, in the words of M. La Motte9, will be apt to say:—“Heureux cent fois l’auteur avec qui l’on s’oublieQui nous offre un charmant poison,Et nous associant a sa douce folieNous affranchit de la raison.”Happy the author, whose bewitching style,Life’s tedious minutes can beguile,Makes us, with him, forget uneasy care,And not remember what we are.Who by a charm, which no one can withstand,Enchanting poison can command,Can make us share his pleasing foolery,And from dull reason set us free.And I shall not be wanting to answer in the words of the same gentleman:“10Bûveurs brisezle joug d’une raison trop fiereEteignez son triste flambeauD’autres enseignent l’artd’augmentersa lumiereMais l’artde l’eteindreest plus beau.”Break, jolly topers, break th’ ungrateful chainOf reason, if she too imperious grow,Of being disturb’d you never need complain,If you put out her troublesome flambeau.Others may teach the art t’ increase her fires,To put them out a finer art requires.1.Lett. xxii, sur la Crit. du Calv. p. 756.2.Lett. sur la Crit. du Calv. Lett. xvi. p.504.3.Ibid. p. 535.4.Dial. de M. Stuart, et P. Riccio.5.Dial. de Parmen. et de Theb.6.Dial. de Alexand. et Phryne.7.Nouv. Dial. des Dieux, p. 99.8.Moriæ Encom.9.La Motte, Od. la Vanité.10.Od. Thalia.CHAP. XXIII.AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT ONE CANNOT TRUST A MAN THAT GETS DRUNK.Thereis a proverb amongst the Jews. “1Ingrediente vino egreditur secretum.” As the wine goes in so the secret goes out. Seneca2makes the same objection. “As,” says he, “new wine bursts the vessel, and the heat makes everything go upwards, so the force of wine is such, that it brings to light, and discovers, what is most secret and hidden.”In answer to this objection I say, that people who are naturally secret, are not less so after drinking. “3And Bacchus was not said to be the inventor of wine, on account of the liberty of his tongue, but because he freed our minds from disquiet, and makes them more firm and resolute in what we undertake.”Besides, do we not see every day, people of all ranks, conditions, and characters, get drunk, and yet we trust them with secrets, and it very rarely happens they speak of them when they are drunk. Thus, if we consult history, we shall learn from Seneca4himself, that the design of killing Cæsar was as well communicated to Tullius Cimber, who was a great drinker, as to C. Cassius, who drank nothing but water. And though L. Piso, governor of Rome, got frequently drunk, he, notwithstanding, excellently acquitted himself of his duty. Augustus madeno manner of difficulty to give him secret instructions, bestowing on him the government of Thrace, the conquest of which he entirely completed. Tiberius, before he left Rome, where he was generally hated, in order to retire into the Campania, made choice of Costus, who was extremely given to wine, for governor of that city, to whom he communicated such things as he dared not trust his own ministers with.1.Voyage de Rouvie, p. 497.2.Ep. 83.3.Seneca de Tranquill.4.Seneca, ep. 83.CHAP. XXIV.AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT DRUNKENNESS MAKES ONE INCAPABLE OF PERFORMING THE DUTIES OF CIVIL LIFE.Idenythis absolutely, and to prove the contrary, I say, the Persians had a custom to deliberate on things the most serious, and of thegreatest importance, after hard drinking. Tacitus reports the same thing of the Germans. Dampier assures us, that the same custom is practised with the inhabitants of the Isthmus Darien. And to go higher, one finds in Homer, that during the siege of Troy, the Greeks, in council, did eat and drink heartily. An evident proof, that this objection is contrary to experience. But to go farther, this same experience made the ancients look on those who could carry a great deal of wine, as persons of a genius very much superior to those who could not drink at all. On this account it was, that Cyrus, in writing to the Lacedemonians the reasons which rendered him more capable of government than his brother, amongst other things, takes notice, that he could drink more wine than he. And so many fine productions, for which we are obliged to the drunkenness of the poets, make it evidently appear, that wine, far from rendering us incapable of doing any thing that is good, rather helps and incites us to it. This important truth we shall confirm by several examples.Plutarch relates, that Philip king of Macedon, after having conquered the Athenians, made afeast, at which he got drunk; and that all proud with that happy success, he nevertheless did a great many things entirely ridiculous; but being informed that the ambassadors that the Athenians sent to him to desire peace, wished to see him, he changed his countenance all of a sudden, and having heard their proposals with all possible attention, answered them with a great deal of justice.The emperor Bonosus, who Amelian said was born not to live, but to drink, acted always with greater prudence after drinking, says Flavius Vopiscus, after Onesimus1.We have taken notice, in the foregoing chapter, that L. Piso, governor of Rome, though he was often drunk, acquitted himself, notwithstanding, punctually of his duty.Christiern2, the fourth king of Denmark, drank like a templer, and never king was more laborious, a greater lover of his subjects, or more beloved by them.Scaliger3says, that a German has as muchreason when he is drunk, as when he has drank nothing.Non minus sapit Germanus ebrius quam sobrius.Montaigne4speaks in his Essays, of a great lord of his time, who, though he drank every day a prodigious quantity of wine, was, nevertheless, equally careful in his affairs. According to which, that which Cicero says is not generally true, viz. “That one must never expect prudence from a man that is always drunk.”Nec enim ab homine nunquam sobrio postulanda prudentia5.Another proof that drunkenness does not render us incapable of doing any thing that is good, is, that it inspires people with courage, and even makes the coward valiant.Ad prelia trudit inertem.Experience confirms this truth. “We see,” says Montaigne6, “that our Germans, though drowned in wine, remember their post, the word, and their rank.”We read in Spartien, that a certain generalhaving been vanquished by the Saracens, his soldiers laid all the blame of their defeat on their want of wine.The soldiers of the army of Pescennius Niger pressed earnestly for wine, undoubtedly to make them fight the better; but he refused them in these words, “You have the Nile,” said he, “and do you ask for wine?” In imitation, I suppose, of the emperor Augustus7, who, when the people complained of the dearness and scarcity of wine, said to them, “My son-in-law, Agrippa, has preserved you from thirst, by the canals he has made for you.”By what has been said it plainly appears, that wine is so far from hindering a man from performing the duties of life, that it rather forwards him, and is an admirable ingredient in all states and conditions, both of peace and war, which made Horace8thus bespeak the god of wine.
“Ipsi in defossis specubus, secura subaltâOtia agunt terrâ, congestaque robora tolasqueAdvolvere focis ulmos, ignique dedere.Hic noctem ludo ducunt, et pocula lætiFermento, atque acidis imitantur vitea sorbis.”2a
“Ipsi in defossis specubus, secura subaltâ
Otia agunt terrâ, congestaque robora tolasque
Advolvere focis ulmos, ignique dedere.
Hic noctem ludo ducunt, et pocula læti
Fermento, atque acidis imitantur vitea sorbis.”2a
Secure, in quiet ease, they dwell in cavesDeep dug in earth, and to their chimneys rollWhole oaks and elms entire, which flames devour.Here all the night, in sport and merry glee,They pass and imitate, with acid service,By fermentation vinous made, the grape.
Secure, in quiet ease, they dwell in caves
Deep dug in earth, and to their chimneys roll
Whole oaks and elms entire, which flames devour.
Here all the night, in sport and merry glee,
They pass and imitate, with acid service,
By fermentation vinous made, the grape.
The Thracians intoxicate themselves by swallowing the fumes of certain herbs, which they cast into the fire.
The Babylonians, according to Herodotus, used likewise to get drunk, by swallowing the fumes of certain herbs that they burned.
Strabo reports, That the Indians made a certain drink with sugar canes, which made them merry; very probably not unlike what we now call rum.
Benso, in his History of America, says the same of the inhabitants of the island of Hispaniola, and several other provinces of America.
Pliny and Athenæus tell us, that the Egyptians fuddled themselves with a drink made of barley; by this it seems the liquor of Sir John Barley-Corn is very ancient.
Leri3, in his Voyage to Brazil, tells us, That the inhabitants of that country are as great drinkers as the Germans, Flemings, Lansquenets,Swiss: and all those merry gentleman who love carousing, and drink supernaculum, ought to agree, that they are even with them. Their drink is made of certain roots, which they boil and ferment, and is then called by them in their language,cahou-in. The author adds, “That he has seen them not only drink three days and nights successively without ceasing, but that they were so very drunk, that they could swallow no more till they had disgorged, which was in order to begin again.
“There4grows in the Eastern countries certain particular drugs, with which the inhabitants are wonderfully delighted, and which produce a kind of drunkenness, or agreeable folly, which continues some time. They are so much accustomed to the use of these drugs, by a long habit, that they imagine that life must be very sad and unhappy without them. The Indians and Persians have their bangué, the Egyptians their bola, and the Turks their opium.”
In relation to the Persians, Tavernier5has these words, viz. “They have a sort of drink to divert and make themselves merry, whichthey call kokemaar, made of poppy-seeds boiled. They drink it scalding hot; and there are particular houses, called kokemaar kronè, where people meet, and give a great deal of pleasure and delight to those who see the ridiculous postures which this kind of liquor makes them perform. Before it operates they quarrel with one another, and give abusive language, without coming to blows; afterwards when the drug begins to have its effect, then they also begin to make peace. One compliments in a very high degree, another tells stories, but all are extremely ridiculous both in their words and actions.” And after having spoken of other liquors that they make use of, he adds, “It is difficult to find in Persia a man that is not addicted to some one of these liquors, without which they think they cannot live but very unpleasantly.”
I take no notice here of that admirable drink called Punch with us; nor Juniper-water, (vulgarly called Geneva, a corruption from the French word Genevre, which signifies the same thing,) nor that dram called All-fours, which have such wonderful effects on the wretched commonalty.
1.Virgil.GeorgicsI.54.2.Const. et Jul. lib. 16.2a.Virgil,GeorgicsIII.376-380.3.P. 126, ed. 1594.4.L’Emer. des Alim. part iii. ch. 2.5.T. 1, lib. v. ch. 17.
1.Virgil.GeorgicsI.54.
2.Const. et Jul. lib. 16.
2a.Virgil,GeorgicsIII.376-380.
3.P. 126, ed. 1594.
4.L’Emer. des Alim. part iii. ch. 2.
5.T. 1, lib. v. ch. 17.
Drunkennesswill (and ought to do so) appear excusable to people the most sober, if they would but make these two reflections following, viz.
Aristotle says, “That too much drinking makes one very improper for the acts of Venus, and gives his reasons. Athenæus reports the same thing in that passage, where he makes mention of the drunkenness of Alexander the Great, a vice,” says he, “which, perhaps, was the cause of his little inclination for the ladies.”
Montaigne1speaks very well on this article,“These,” says he, “are two things which vigorously oppose each other; this weakens our stomach on one hand; whereas, on the other, sobriety serves to make us more quaint and delicate in the exercise of love.”
Ovid2says much the same thing.
“Vina parant animum veneri, nisi plurima sumas,Ut stupeant multo corda sepulta mero.”
“Vina parant animum veneri, nisi plurima sumas,
Ut stupeant multo corda sepulta mero.”
Wine, not too much, inspires, and makes the mindTo the soft joys of Venus strong inclin’d,Which buried in excess, unapt to love,Stupidly lies, and knows not how to move.
Wine, not too much, inspires, and makes the mind
To the soft joys of Venus strong inclin’d,
Which buried in excess, unapt to love,
Stupidly lies, and knows not how to move.
It is certain, that in hot countries they drink a great deal less than they do in cold, but in lieu of that, lewdness reigns much more. Montaigne3, after having observed, that they began to drink less than they used to do, adds, “Doesany one think it tends to amendment? No, indeed; but, perhaps, we are much more given to whoring than our forefathers.”
This puts me in mind of an Italian, who having reproached a German with the drunkenness of his country, by these verses, viz.
“Germani multos possunt tolerare laboresO utinam possint tam tolerare sitim.”
“Germani multos possunt tolerare labores
O utinam possint tam tolerare sitim.”
The Germans (patient) toil, inur’d to pain,Oh! could they but their thirst so well sustain!
The Germans (patient) toil, inur’d to pain,
Oh! could they but their thirst so well sustain!
The German answered him extempore in these other two:—
“Ut nos vitis amor, sic vos Venus improba vexatEst data lex veneri Julia, nulla mero.”
“Ut nos vitis amor, sic vos Venus improba vexat
Est data lex veneri Julia, nulla mero.”
As we love wine, so wicked Venus you,Twasthis, notthat, the Julian Edict knew.
As we love wine, so wicked Venus you,
Twasthis, notthat, the Julian Edict knew.
In order to draw a consequence from all this, let us speak once more of Montaigne4, whose words are, “And if we cannot give any pleasure but what costs us something, as the ancientsmaintain, I find this vice costs the conscience less than all the rest, besides, it is in this respect no despicable consideration, that a man advanced in honours, amongst three principal conveniencies of life, that he told me he yet enjoyed, he reckoned this for one.”
After having shewn, in the foregoing chapters, That drunkenness reigns all the world over,Nulla in parte mundi cessat ebrietas. Let us see what we may hence infer in its favour: and I ask, if the agreement of so many different nations, to do one and the same thing, proves nothing, and may not, in some measure, serve as an apology for drunkenness? For if one considers, that the surprising variety of the humour and temperament of men, do, notwithstanding, in nowise hinder them from agreeing unanimously in this point, one shall have a very strong temptation to believe, that the desire of getting drunk is an innate quality, and we shall be confirmed in this sentiment, after tasting experimentally the exquisite sweetness caused by drunkenness.
To conclude,
All drink, throughout the universe, ’tis plain,The moon drinks up the sea, the earth the rain,The sun the air, and ev’ry tree, we know,The earth’s prolific juice imbibes to grow.The air sups up the water too, ’tis said,Why then, my dearest friends, d’ye plague my head,And angry grow, because, dry soul5, I swillNew wine, drink fit for gods, and quaff my fill.
All drink, throughout the universe, ’tis plain,
The moon drinks up the sea, the earth the rain,
The sun the air, and ev’ry tree, we know,
The earth’s prolific juice imbibes to grow.
The air sups up the water too, ’tis said,
Why then, my dearest friends, d’ye plague my head,
And angry grow, because, dry soul5, I swill
New wine, drink fit for gods, and quaff my fill.
1.Essais, l. ii. ch. 2.2.De Remed. Amor.3.Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.4.Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.5.Anima mea non potest habitare in sicco. S. Aug.
1.Essais, l. ii. ch. 2.
2.De Remed. Amor.
3.Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.
4.Essais, liv. ii. ch. 2.
5.Anima mea non potest habitare in sicco. S. Aug.
Afterhaving specified the good qualities of drunkenness, let us now answer some frivolous objections that may be made against what we have here advanced. For example, people willnot be wanting immediately to object, that drunkenness has been the cause of infinite evils.
To this I answer, that it has been only the cause of these evils when people have pushed it too far, and not observed the rules they ought to keep in drinking, and which we shall see here prescribed by and by. For where do we find that any one, of so many grave philosophers that used to get drunk, made any disorders? It was for this reason that Chrisippus’s maid said, That her master was drunk in the hams. And it was on this very account, perhaps, that the Stoics said of their sage, “That he was, indeed, to be overcome with wine, but would not, however, be drunk,Vino obrutum iri non ebrium tamen futurum.”
On the other hand, without being willing to excuse those disorders which drunkenness has been the cause of, one may say, nevertheless, that some of these disorders have produced effects highly advantageous. “Suppose, for example, that Lot had not got drunk, and his two daughters had not been possessed with the furious desire of having children, and the fear of dying maids, you ruin, by this means, whole families, whobore a great part in the wonderful events of the children of Israel1.”
Their high mightinesses the States of Holland, have eternal obligations to drunkenness, since to this they owe, in some sort, the establishment of their republic, which was after this manner, according to Strada:—2The same day that Brederode, accompanied by above two hundred gentlemen, had presented that famous petition to Margaret of Parma, who then governed the Netherlands, he gave a magnificent entertainment in the house of the Count of Culenbourg, there was no want of drinking; and as they saw the Count of Hoocstrate, who by chance passed that way, they began, with a great deal of joy, to give one another the name of Gueux3; upon which taking each of them all together great glasses in their hands, they made vows and oaths to each other by the name of Gueux, and cried out with one voice and general applause, Long live the Gueux! After which they promised mutual fidelity; andthe Prince of Orange and the Counts of Egmont and Horn coming to them, they began to drink again, and with great acclamation renewed vows and wishes with these new comers, as they had already done, for the Gueux. At last, in the heat of wine, they took those vigorous resolutions, the effects of which were afterwards seen, which was the liberty of the United Provinces.
1.Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. du Calvin.2.Strada de Bello Belgico, part i. lib. 5.3.The French word for beggars.
1.Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. du Calvin.
2.Strada de Bello Belgico, part i. lib. 5.
3.The French word for beggars.
Itwill be objected, without doubt, that the mirth which wine inspires is imaginary, and without any foundation, and that, as Boileau has it,
“Rien n’est beau que le vrai. Le vrai seul est aimable.”
Nothing so beautiful as what is true,That it is only lovely is its due.
Nothing so beautiful as what is true,
That it is only lovely is its due.
I very willingly own, that this joy and mirth is nothing else than the effect of our imagination.
Full well I’m satisfied ’tis nothing allBut a deceitful hope, less solid far,A thousand times, than is the moving sand;But are not all things so with wretched man?All things soon pass away like rapid streamsWhich hasten to the sea, where lost for everIn th’ ocean’s vast abyss unknown they lie.Our wisest wishes and desires are vain,Abstracted vanities, gay painted bubbles,That break when touch’d, and vanish into air.Love, wisdom, knowledge, riches, phantoms all.
Full well I’m satisfied ’tis nothing all
But a deceitful hope, less solid far,
A thousand times, than is the moving sand;
But are not all things so with wretched man?
All things soon pass away like rapid streams
Which hasten to the sea, where lost for ever
In th’ ocean’s vast abyss unknown they lie.
Our wisest wishes and desires are vain,
Abstracted vanities, gay painted bubbles,
That break when touch’d, and vanish into air.
Love, wisdom, knowledge, riches, phantoms all.
But before we thoroughly refute this objection, I shall observe by the way, that errors and illusions are necessary to the world. “1In general, indeed, it is true to say, that the world, as it is now, cannot keep itself in the same condition,were not men full of a thousand false prejudices and unreasonable passions; and if philosophy went about to make men act according to the clear and distinct ideas of reason, we might, perhaps, be satisfied, that mankind would quickly be at an end. Errors, passions, prejudices, and a hundred other the like faults, are as a necessary evil to the world. Men would be worth nothing for this world, were they cured, and the greatest part of the things which now take up our time, would be useless, as Quintilian well knew, namely, eloquence.
Things are in this condition, and will not easily change, and we may wait long enough for such a happy revolution, before we shall be able to say, with Virgil,
“Magnus ab integro sæculorum nascitur ordo.”1a
A series long of ages now appear,Entirely new to man, before unknown.
A series long of ages now appear,
Entirely new to man, before unknown.
On the other hand, “2If you take away from man every thing that is chimerical, whatpleasure will you leave him? Pleasures are not things so solid, as to permit us to search them to the bottom; one must only just touch them and away. They resemble boggy and moorish ground, we must run lightly over them, without ever letting our feet make the least impression.”
No, wheresoe’er we turn our wishing eye,True pleasures never can our souls enjoy.
No, wheresoe’er we turn our wishing eye,
True pleasures never can our souls enjoy.
Let us add, “3That if we did not help to deceive ourselves, we should never enjoy any pleasure at all. The most agreeable things in this world are, in the bottom, so trivial, that they would not much affect us, if we made but never so little serious reflection upon them. Pleasures are not made to be strictly examined into, and we are obliged every day to pass over a great many things in them, about which it would not be proper to make one-self uneasy.”
Besides, “4Is not the illusion we enjoy asvaluable as the good we possess? M. Fontenelle makes a very excellent observation hereupon in these verses5:—
“Souvent en s’attachant a des fantômes vainsNotre raison seduite avec plaisir s’egare.Elle-même joüit des objets qu’elle a feints.Et cette illusion pour quelque tems repareLe defaut des vrais biens que la Nature avareN’a pas accordez aux humains.”
“Souvent en s’attachant a des fantômes vains
Notre raison seduite avec plaisir s’egare.
Elle-même joüit des objets qu’elle a feints.
Et cette illusion pour quelque tems repare
Le defaut des vrais biens que la Nature avare
N’a pas accordez aux humains.”
Often enchanted by the ’luring charmsOf phantoms gay, our reason all seduc’d,With pleasure roams thro’ endlessdesartswild,Enjoys the objects which herself has form’d.And this illusion for some time repairsThe want of real joys, which niggard NatureNever has granted to unhappy man.
Often enchanted by the ’luring charms
Of phantoms gay, our reason all seduc’d,
With pleasure roams thro’ endlessdesartswild,
Enjoys the objects which herself has form’d.
And this illusion for some time repairs
The want of real joys, which niggard Nature
Never has granted to unhappy man.
“Enjoyment,” says Montaigne6, “and possession, belong principally to imagination, which embraces more eagerly that which it is in pursuit of, than that which we have in our power.”
And certainly, one may pronounce them happy, who thus amuse themselves, and believe themselves to be so. And indeed, when a man is so far gone in this persuasion, every thing that is alleged to the contrary is rejected as a fable.
But to shew, at present, the reality, if one may say so, of mere illusion, we need go no farther than the poets, who are certainly the happiest mortals living in that respect.
To instance no more, there’s Mr.————, who would fain be a rhimer, and that is his folly; but though the poor man, for his insipid verses, and improper epithets, richly deserves our pity, yet is he wonderfully pleased with his performances, and with a great deal of tranquillity mounts up Parnassus, in his own conceit, in loftier tracts than Virgil or Theocritus ever knew. But, alas! what would become of him, if some audacious person should dare unbind his eyes, and make him see his weak and graceless lines, which, however smoothly they may run, are, at best, but exquisitely dull; contain terms that have no meaning in them, and have no other ornament, but unintelligible jingle, andinitial letters? How would he curse the day which deprived his senseless soul of that happy error that so much charmed his thoughts, and amused his imagination?
What is here said of the poets is applicable to all mankind; and so a man, whom any one should undertake to persuade, that the mirth and joy inspired by wine is chimerical, would do well to answer him, after the manner as a certain madman did the doctor that cured him. The story is this:—
Once upon a time a certain bigot, otherwise a man of sense, had his brain a little touched with whimsies, and continually fancied he heard the heavenly music of the blessed spirits. At last a physician, very expert in his profession, cured him, either by his skill, or by chance, no matter which; but when he came to demand his fees; for what? says the other, in a violent passion, by your damned slip-slops and hellish art, you have robbed me of my Paradise, though you have cured me of my error. This I borrow from Boileau7, as he did from Horace8.
“9There are,” says Pere Bouhours, writing to Bussi Rabutin, “agreeable errors, which are much more valuable than that which the Spaniards called desengano, and which might be called in our language disabusement, if this word, which one of our best writers has ventured upon, had been received.”
We shall conclude with M. de Sacy10, “That it is not always doing mankind an agreeable service to dissipate their illusions.” And we say of those who taste those satisfactions wine inspires, what M. Bayle says very pleasantly of news-mongers who are still in hopes of what they wish for. “They are11,” says he, “the least unhappy, whatever happens. There is a great deal of reality in their agreeable sentiments, how chimerical soever their foundation may be; so that they do not willingly suffer themselves to be disabused; and they sometimes say, when one gives them reasons why they should believe the news, that makes them so joyful, is doubtful orabsolutely false, Why do you envy us the pleasures we enjoy? Do not disturb our entertainment, or rob us of what we hold most dear. A friend more opposite to error than charity is a very troublesome reasoner; and if he meddles with their chimeras they will endeavour to do him a diskindness.”
We come now to another objection, and that is, that this joy inspired by wine is but of a very short continuance; and the pleasure one tastes in so short a space, dearly repaid with a long and tedious uneasiness.Ebrietas unius horæ hilarem insaniam longo temporis tedio pensat.
I own that it is a very great misery, that our pleasures are so short: and the shorter too, the more exquisite they are. And, perhaps, this may be a kindness to us, since some are so superlatively so, that should they continue a much longer space, mankind could not support themselves under these ecstacies. But be this as it will, can we make them otherwise than they are? We must therefore have patience, and take them as we find them. In short, there is no present happiness in the world; all we can do, is tobe contented with the present, not uneasy at what is to come, but sweeten with an equality of soul the bitter miseries of human life.
1.Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. de Calvin, p. 516.1a.Virgil,EcloguesIV.5.2.Fontenelle Dial. d’Elisab. et du D. d’Alençon.3.Fontenelle Dial. des Morts de Callirh. et de Paulin.4.Nov. Dial. des Dieux. p. 68.5.Poesies Pastor.6.Essais, lib. iii. ch. 9.7.Satire iv. M. la Vayer.8.Lib. ii. ep. 2.9.Lett. de Rab. t. iii. lett. 63.10.De l’Amitié, p. 2.11.Rep. aux Quest. d’un Prov. t. i. ch. 20.
1.Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. de Calvin, p. 516.
1a.Virgil,EcloguesIV.5.
2.Fontenelle Dial. d’Elisab. et du D. d’Alençon.
3.Fontenelle Dial. des Morts de Callirh. et de Paulin.
4.Nov. Dial. des Dieux. p. 68.
5.Poesies Pastor.
6.Essais, lib. iii. ch. 9.
7.Satire iv. M. la Vayer.
8.Lib. ii. ep. 2.
9.Lett. de Rab. t. iii. lett. 63.
10.De l’Amitié, p. 2.
11.Rep. aux Quest. d’un Prov. t. i. ch. 20.
Itis objected here, that reason ought to be the motive of all our actions; and, of consequence, that we ought not voluntarily to lose it.
To this objection I answer several ways:— First and foremost then, I say, people do well to talk to us so much of reason, when almost all mankind acts without reason, so that it may pass for a thing that has no manner of existence but in the imagination. We shall prove this from M. Bayle. “1We are defined,” says he, “a reasonableanimal. A very fine definition indeed, when none of us do any thing but without reason. I assure you, sir, that one may say of reason, what Euripides said in the beginning of one of his tragedies, and which afterwards was corrected, on account of the murmurings of the people. O Jupiter, for of thee I know nothing but only the name! In relation to the faculty I am talking of, we know nothing more of it than that, so that we may well laugh at the complaints of that heathen philosopher, who found that reason was a very troublesome present sent to us by the gods for our ruin; for he supposed, that reason busied herself in our affairs, whereas the truth of it is she never meddles in the least with them. We act nothing but with prejudice, by instinct, by self-love, and the sudden starts of a thousand passions, which drag and turn our reason as they will, insomuch that one may most justly define the principle which rules and domineers over us, a mass of prejudices and passions which knows how to draw consequences. I remember to have seen a man, who having never heard mention made of the Cotta of Cicero, said nevertheless as well as he, that it would have beenmuch better that God had not made us reasonable, since reason poisons all our affairs, and makes us ingenious to afflict ourselves, upon which a certain person said to him in raillery, That he had what he desired; that he had received so small a share of reason that it was not worth his while to complain. For my part, I turned the thing otherwise, that people were much in the wrong to murmur against reason, since it is not that which guides us; and that it is not too possible it should, without overthrowing the order which has reigned so long in the world. The learned Erasmus, continued I, deserves the highest praise in this respect; he has written The Praise of Folly, wherein he shews that she sheds every where her influence, and without her, the whole world would in a short time be turned topsy turvy. I make no doubt, sir, but you know the merit of that work. The author speaks, though in a merry manner, the greatest truths in the world; and I do not know whether he believed himself as profound a philosopher, as he really was in that ingenious satire.”
Secondly, This is not all, “2It is sometimes necessary, for the general good of the world, to follow prejudices, popular errors, and the blind instincts of nature, rather than the distinct ideas of reason.” Mr. Bayle extends himself farther on this idea in another place3, which I shall here insert. “Errors,” says he, “irregular passions, and unreasonable prejudices, are so necessary to the world to make it a theatre of that prodigious diversity of events which make one admire his providence. So that he who would reduce men to do nothing but according to the distinct ideas of reason, would ruin civil society. If man was reduced to this condition, he would have no longer any desire of glory; and having no longer that desire, is it not true, that then mankind would be like ice? I say, he would have no desire of glory, for right reason shews us, that we should not make our happiness depend on the judgment of other men; and consequently, that we should not toil and fatigue ourselves, to make other people say this, or that, ofus——.The earnest desire of being praised after death is an instinct of morality that God has impressed in the mind of man, to keep up society. And it is certain, that earnest desire has been the cause of the greatest events; and this ought to instruct us that the world stands in need of a great many instincts, which, examined according to the ideas of our reason, are ridiculous and absurd. For there is nothing so opposite to reason as to torment ourselves in this life, that we may be praised after we are dead, since neither philosophy, nor experience, nor faith, nor any thing whatsover, makes it appear, that the praises given us after death can do us any good. It would be a thing uneasy to the heart of man, if we did nothing but according to the light of reason; and how many designs would come to nothing at the same time?”
Thirdly, Besides, reason very often serves for nothing but to make us wretched. “The happiness of man is never the work of reason.” Of all our evils reason is often the worst; it frightens us in the full career of our pleasures, and with importunate remorses comes to bridle our fleet desires. The horrid thing reserves for us mostcruel and matchless rigours. It is like a troublesome pedant one is forced to hear, who always growls, but never touches us, and frequently like D———, and such like venerable impertinents, lose the time they employ in predication.
“If there be any happiness4,” says Fontenelle, “that reason produces, it is like that sort of health which cannot be maintained but by the force of physic, and which is ever most feeble and uncertain.” And in another place he cries out, “5Can we not have sound sight without being at the same time wretched and uneasy? Is there any thing gay but error? And is reason made for any thing else but to torment and kill us?” “6What cause have not men to bewail their wretched condition? Nature furnishes them but with a very few things that are agreeable, and their reason teaches them how to enjoy them yet less.” “7And why has Nature, in giving us passions which are sufficient to makeus happy, given us reason, that will not suffer us to be so?”
It was this same troublesome reason that made Sophocles say, “8It is very sweet to live, but none of your wisdom, away with her, she spoils life.”
Vaunt less thy reason, O unhappy man!Behold how useless is this gift celestial,For which, they say, thou should’st the rest disdain.Feeble as thou wert in thy infant days,Like thee she mov’d, she totter’d, and was weak.When age mature arriv’d, and call’d to pleasures,Slave to thy sense, she still was so to thee,When fifty winters, Fate had let thee count;Pregnant with thousand cares and worlds of woes,The hateful issue in thy breast she threw,And now grown old thou loosest her for ever.
Vaunt less thy reason, O unhappy man!
Behold how useless is this gift celestial,
For which, they say, thou should’st the rest disdain.
Feeble as thou wert in thy infant days,
Like thee she mov’d, she totter’d, and was weak.
When age mature arriv’d, and call’d to pleasures,
Slave to thy sense, she still was so to thee,
When fifty winters, Fate had let thee count;
Pregnant with thousand cares and worlds of woes,
The hateful issue in thy breast she threw,
And now grown old thou loosest her for ever.
Before I end this chapter, let every body take notice, that if for having spoken so much against reason, any one should say, that it is a plain sign the author has none; and that there are agreat many others, who, in the words of M. La Motte9, will be apt to say:—
“Heureux cent fois l’auteur avec qui l’on s’oublieQui nous offre un charmant poison,Et nous associant a sa douce folieNous affranchit de la raison.”
“Heureux cent fois l’auteur avec qui l’on s’oublie
Qui nous offre un charmant poison,
Et nous associant a sa douce folie
Nous affranchit de la raison.”
Happy the author, whose bewitching style,Life’s tedious minutes can beguile,Makes us, with him, forget uneasy care,And not remember what we are.Who by a charm, which no one can withstand,Enchanting poison can command,Can make us share his pleasing foolery,And from dull reason set us free.
Happy the author, whose bewitching style,
Life’s tedious minutes can beguile,
Makes us, with him, forget uneasy care,
And not remember what we are.
Who by a charm, which no one can withstand,
Enchanting poison can command,
Can make us share his pleasing foolery,
And from dull reason set us free.
And I shall not be wanting to answer in the words of the same gentleman:
“10Bûveurs brisezle joug d’une raison trop fiereEteignez son triste flambeauD’autres enseignent l’artd’augmentersa lumiereMais l’artde l’eteindreest plus beau.”
“10Bûveurs brisezle joug d’une raison trop fiere
Eteignez son triste flambeau
D’autres enseignent l’artd’augmentersa lumiere
Mais l’artde l’eteindreest plus beau.”
Break, jolly topers, break th’ ungrateful chainOf reason, if she too imperious grow,Of being disturb’d you never need complain,If you put out her troublesome flambeau.Others may teach the art t’ increase her fires,To put them out a finer art requires.
Break, jolly topers, break th’ ungrateful chain
Of reason, if she too imperious grow,
Of being disturb’d you never need complain,
If you put out her troublesome flambeau.
Others may teach the art t’ increase her fires,
To put them out a finer art requires.
1.Lett. xxii, sur la Crit. du Calv. p. 756.2.Lett. sur la Crit. du Calv. Lett. xvi. p.504.3.Ibid. p. 535.4.Dial. de M. Stuart, et P. Riccio.5.Dial. de Parmen. et de Theb.6.Dial. de Alexand. et Phryne.7.Nouv. Dial. des Dieux, p. 99.8.Moriæ Encom.9.La Motte, Od. la Vanité.10.Od. Thalia.
1.Lett. xxii, sur la Crit. du Calv. p. 756.
2.Lett. sur la Crit. du Calv. Lett. xvi. p.504.
3.Ibid. p. 535.
4.Dial. de M. Stuart, et P. Riccio.
5.Dial. de Parmen. et de Theb.
6.Dial. de Alexand. et Phryne.
7.Nouv. Dial. des Dieux, p. 99.
8.Moriæ Encom.
9.La Motte, Od. la Vanité.
10.Od. Thalia.
Thereis a proverb amongst the Jews. “1Ingrediente vino egreditur secretum.” As the wine goes in so the secret goes out. Seneca2makes the same objection. “As,” says he, “new wine bursts the vessel, and the heat makes everything go upwards, so the force of wine is such, that it brings to light, and discovers, what is most secret and hidden.”
In answer to this objection I say, that people who are naturally secret, are not less so after drinking. “3And Bacchus was not said to be the inventor of wine, on account of the liberty of his tongue, but because he freed our minds from disquiet, and makes them more firm and resolute in what we undertake.”
Besides, do we not see every day, people of all ranks, conditions, and characters, get drunk, and yet we trust them with secrets, and it very rarely happens they speak of them when they are drunk. Thus, if we consult history, we shall learn from Seneca4himself, that the design of killing Cæsar was as well communicated to Tullius Cimber, who was a great drinker, as to C. Cassius, who drank nothing but water. And though L. Piso, governor of Rome, got frequently drunk, he, notwithstanding, excellently acquitted himself of his duty. Augustus madeno manner of difficulty to give him secret instructions, bestowing on him the government of Thrace, the conquest of which he entirely completed. Tiberius, before he left Rome, where he was generally hated, in order to retire into the Campania, made choice of Costus, who was extremely given to wine, for governor of that city, to whom he communicated such things as he dared not trust his own ministers with.
1.Voyage de Rouvie, p. 497.2.Ep. 83.3.Seneca de Tranquill.4.Seneca, ep. 83.
1.Voyage de Rouvie, p. 497.
2.Ep. 83.
3.Seneca de Tranquill.
4.Seneca, ep. 83.
Idenythis absolutely, and to prove the contrary, I say, the Persians had a custom to deliberate on things the most serious, and of thegreatest importance, after hard drinking. Tacitus reports the same thing of the Germans. Dampier assures us, that the same custom is practised with the inhabitants of the Isthmus Darien. And to go higher, one finds in Homer, that during the siege of Troy, the Greeks, in council, did eat and drink heartily. An evident proof, that this objection is contrary to experience. But to go farther, this same experience made the ancients look on those who could carry a great deal of wine, as persons of a genius very much superior to those who could not drink at all. On this account it was, that Cyrus, in writing to the Lacedemonians the reasons which rendered him more capable of government than his brother, amongst other things, takes notice, that he could drink more wine than he. And so many fine productions, for which we are obliged to the drunkenness of the poets, make it evidently appear, that wine, far from rendering us incapable of doing any thing that is good, rather helps and incites us to it. This important truth we shall confirm by several examples.
Plutarch relates, that Philip king of Macedon, after having conquered the Athenians, made afeast, at which he got drunk; and that all proud with that happy success, he nevertheless did a great many things entirely ridiculous; but being informed that the ambassadors that the Athenians sent to him to desire peace, wished to see him, he changed his countenance all of a sudden, and having heard their proposals with all possible attention, answered them with a great deal of justice.
The emperor Bonosus, who Amelian said was born not to live, but to drink, acted always with greater prudence after drinking, says Flavius Vopiscus, after Onesimus1.
We have taken notice, in the foregoing chapter, that L. Piso, governor of Rome, though he was often drunk, acquitted himself, notwithstanding, punctually of his duty.
Christiern2, the fourth king of Denmark, drank like a templer, and never king was more laborious, a greater lover of his subjects, or more beloved by them.
Scaliger3says, that a German has as muchreason when he is drunk, as when he has drank nothing.Non minus sapit Germanus ebrius quam sobrius.
Montaigne4speaks in his Essays, of a great lord of his time, who, though he drank every day a prodigious quantity of wine, was, nevertheless, equally careful in his affairs. According to which, that which Cicero says is not generally true, viz. “That one must never expect prudence from a man that is always drunk.”Nec enim ab homine nunquam sobrio postulanda prudentia5.
Another proof that drunkenness does not render us incapable of doing any thing that is good, is, that it inspires people with courage, and even makes the coward valiant.Ad prelia trudit inertem.Experience confirms this truth. “We see,” says Montaigne6, “that our Germans, though drowned in wine, remember their post, the word, and their rank.”
We read in Spartien, that a certain generalhaving been vanquished by the Saracens, his soldiers laid all the blame of their defeat on their want of wine.
The soldiers of the army of Pescennius Niger pressed earnestly for wine, undoubtedly to make them fight the better; but he refused them in these words, “You have the Nile,” said he, “and do you ask for wine?” In imitation, I suppose, of the emperor Augustus7, who, when the people complained of the dearness and scarcity of wine, said to them, “My son-in-law, Agrippa, has preserved you from thirst, by the canals he has made for you.”
By what has been said it plainly appears, that wine is so far from hindering a man from performing the duties of life, that it rather forwards him, and is an admirable ingredient in all states and conditions, both of peace and war, which made Horace8thus bespeak the god of wine.