Chapter 7

"[9]There 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 Sacy[10], "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 are[11]," 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 or absolutely 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 horae 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 to be contented with the present, not uneasy at what is to come, but sweeten with an equality of soul the bitter miseries of human life.

[Footnote 1: Lett. xvi. sur la Crit. de Calvin, p. 516.]

[[Footnote 1a: Virgil, _Eclogues_ IV.5.]]

[Footnote 2: Fontenelle Dial. d'Elisab. et du D. d'Alencon.]

[Footnote 3: Fontenelle Dial. des Morts de Callirh. et de Paulin.]

[Footnote 4: Nov. Dial. des Dieux. p. 68.]

[Footnote 5: Poesies Pastor.]

[Footnote 6: Essais, lib. iii. ch. 9.]

[Footnote 7: Satire iv. M. la Vayer.]

[Footnote 8: Lib. ii. ep. 2.]

[Footnote 9: Lett. de Rab. t. iii. lett. 63.]

[Footnote 10: De l'Amitie, p. 2.]

[Footnote 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.

It is 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. "[1]We are defined," says he, "a reasonable animal. 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 been much 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, "[2]It 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 place[3], 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, of us----. 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 most cruel 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 happiness[4]," 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, "[5]Can 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?" "[6]What 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." "[7]And why has Nature, in giving us passions which are sufficient to make us happy, given us reason, that will not suffer us to be so?"

It was this same troublesome reason that made Sophocles say, "[8]It 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 a great many others, who, in the words of M. La Motte[9], will be apt to say:--

"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.

And I shall not be wanting to answer in the words of the same gentleman:

"[10]Buveurs brisez le joug d'une raison trop fiere Eteignez son triste flambeau D'autres enseignent l'art d'augmenter sa lumiere Mais l'art de l'eteindre est plus beau."

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.

[Footnote 1: Lett. xxii, sur la Crit. du Calv. p. 756.]

[Footnote 2: Lett. sur la Crit. du Calv. Lett. xvi. p.504.]

[Footnote 3: Ibid. p. 535.]

[Footnote 4: Dial. de M. Stuart, et P. Riccio.]

[Footnote 5: Dial. de Parmen. et de Theb.]

[Footnote 6: Dial. de Alexand. et Phryne.]

[Footnote 7: Nouv. Dial. des Dieux, p. 99.]

[Footnote 8: Moriae Encom.]

[Footnote 9: La Motte, Od. la Vanite.]

[Footnote 10: Od. Thalia.]

CHAP. XXIII.

AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT ONE CANNOT TRUST A MAN THAT GETS DRUNK.

There is a proverb amongst the Jews. "[1]_Ingrediente vino egreditur secretum._" As the wine goes in so the secret goes out. Seneca[2] makes the same objection. "As," says he, "new wine bursts the vessel, and the heat makes every thing 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. "[3]And 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 Seneca[4] himself, that the design of killing Caesar 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 made no 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.

[Footnote 1: Voyage de Rouvie, p. 497.]

[Footnote 2: Ep. 83.]

[Footnote 3: Seneca de Tranquill.]

[Footnote 4: Seneca, ep. 83.]

CHAP. XXIV.

AN ANSWER TO THE OBJECTION, THAT DRUNKENNESS MAKES ONE INCAPABLE OF PERFORMING THE DUTIES OF CIVIL LIFE.

I deny this absolutely, and to prove the contrary, I say, the Persians had a custom to deliberate on things the most serious, and of the greatest 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 a feast, 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 Onesimus[1].

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.

Christiern[2], 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.

Scaliger[3] says, that a German has as much reason when he is drunk, as when he has drank nothing. _Non minus sapit Germanus ebrius quam sobrius._

Montaigne[4] speaks 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 prudentia_[5].

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 Montaigne[6], "that our Germans, though drowned in wine, remember their post, the word, and their rank."

We read in Spartien, that a certain general having 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 Augustus[7], 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 Horace[8] thus bespeak the god of wine.

"Quanquam choreis aptior et jocis Ludoque dictus, non sat idoneus Pugnis ferebaris, sed idem Pacis eras mediusque belli."

Tho' thou more apt for love than furious war, And gay desires to move, thy chiefest care, Yet war, and sweetest pleasures, you can join, Both Mars and Venus are devotes to wine.

[Footnote 1: Flav. Vopisc. in vita Bonos.]

[Footnote 2: Amel. de la Houssai sur Tacit. Ann. liv. xi. ch. 35.]

[Footnote 3: Scaligeriana, p. 169.]

[Footnote 4: L. ii. ch. 2.]

[Footnote 5: Orat. ii. Philip.]

[Footnote 6: Essais, l. ii. ch. 2.]

[Footnote 7: Sueton. in Vit. August.]

[Footnote 8: Lib. ii. Od. 19.]

CHAP. XXV.

BURLESQUE, RIDICULOUS, AND OUT-OF-THE-WAY THOUGHTS, AGAINST DRUNKENNESS.

It is reported that Gerson should say, That there was no difference between a man's killing himself at one stroke, or to procure death by several, in getting drunk.

Somebody has burlesqued this verse of Ovid[1]:--

Vina parant animos, faciuntque coloribus aptos.[1a]

And thus changed it,

Vina parant asinos, faciuntque furoribus aptos.

Cyneas[2] alluding to those high trees to which they used to fasten the vines, said one day, discoursing on wine, that it was not without reason that his mother was hanged upon so high a gibbet.

"[3]The diversion that people took heretofore in making one another drunk, appeared more heinous to St. Augustine than an assassination, for he maintained, that those who made any one drunk, did him greater injury than if they had given him a stab with a dagger.

"A Greek[4] physician once wrote a letter to Alexander, in which he begged him to remember, that every time that he drank wine, he drank the pure blood of the earth, and that he must not abuse it.

"[5]Some poets say, that it was the blood of the gods wounded in their battle with the giants.

"[6]The Severians in St. Epiphanius, hold, that it was engendered by a serpent, and it is for that reason that the vine is so strong. And the Encratites, in the same author, imagine to themselves that it was the gall of the devil.

"Noah[7] in an hour of drunkenness," says St. Jerom, "let his body be seen naked, which he had kept covered for six hundred years."

[Footnote 1: Sphinx Theol. p. 682.]

[[Footnote 1a: Ovid, _Ars Amatoria_ 237.]]

[Footnote 2: Diver, cur. t. i. p. 141.]

[Footnote 3: Rep. des Lett. Janv. 1687. Art. I.]

[Footnote 4: Androcydes.]

[Footnote 5: Entret. de Voiture, et de Costar, Lett. 29.]

[Footnote 6: Lib. i. Heres. 47.]

[Footnote 7: Ep. ad Ocean.]

CHAP. XXVI.

A RIDICULOUS AVERSION THAT SOME HAVE TO WINE.

An aversion to wine is a thing not very common; and there are but a very few but will say with Catullus:--

"At vos quo lubet, hinc abite lymphae Vini pernicies."[a]

Pernicious water, bane to wine, be gone.

One should certainly be very much in the wrong to put in the number of those who had an aversion to wine the duke of Clarence. His brother, Edward the Fourth, prejudiced with the predictions of Merlin, as if they foretold, that one day that duke should usurp the crown from his children, resolved to put him to death, he only gave him the liberty to choose what death he would die of. The duke being willing to die a merry death, chose to be drowned in a butt of Malmsey. Not unlike him on whom this epigram was made.

"[1]In cyatho vini pleno cum musca periret; Sic, ait Oeneus, sponte perire velim."

In a full glass of wine expir'd a fly; So, said Oeneus, would I freely die.

But let us come in earnest to those who have really had an antipathy to wine. Herbelot[2], in his Bibliotheque Orientale, says, that there are some Mussulmans so superstitious, that they will not call wine by its true name, which is Schamr and Nedibh; and that there are some princes amongst them that have forbidden the mentioning of it by express laws. The reason of all this is, the prohibition of Mahomet to his followers, which enjoins them not to drink wine. The occasion of which prohibition is as follows: "[3]They say, that passing one day through a village, and seeing the people in the mirth of wine embracing and kissing one another, and making a thousand protestations of friendship, he was so charmed with the sight, that he blessed the wine, as the best thing in the world. But that, at his return, observing the same place full of blood, and having been informed, that the same men whom he had seen before so merry, had, at last, changed their mirth into rage, and been fighting with their swords, he recalled his benediction, and cursed wine for ever, on account of the bad effects it produced."

It is one of the chief commandments amongst the Siameze, to drink no wine, nor any liquor that will procure drunkenness[4].

"[5]Drunkenness is detested in most parts of hot countries. It is looked upon there as infamous. The greatest affront you can give a Spaniard, is to call him drunkard. I have been assured, continues M. Bayle, a servant, if his master should call him so, might bring his action at law against him, and recover damages, though any other name he will suffer very patiently, and without any right of complaint of being injured in his reputation, as rogue, hang-dog, b----, &c."

Empedocles, we may well conclude, loved wine, which he called, Water putrified in wood.

[6]Amongst the Locrians, Seleucus had such an aversion to wine, that he forbad any one to drink it under pain of death, or even give it to the sick.

Apollonius Thyanaeus never drank any wine, no more than St. Fulgentius, bishop, S. Stephen, king of Poland, and cardinal Emeri.

"[7]The Severians, disciples of Severus, in the time of pope Sotherus, condemned absolutely wine, as a creature of the devil."

[8]The emperor Frederick the Third, seeing his wife barren, consulted the physicians upon the case; who told him, that if the empress would drink wine she might be fruitful. But he told them, like a simpleton as he was, That he had rather his wife should be barren and sober, than be fruitful and drink wine. And the empress, being informed of the wise answer of the imperial ninny-hammer, her husband, said full as wisely, That if she was to be put to her choice, to drink wine or die, she should make no manner of hesitation, but prefer death.

De nimia sapientia libera nos domine.

[[Footnote a: Catullus XXVII.5-6.]]

[Footnote 1: Rem. sur Rabel. t. iv. ch. 93.]

[Footnote 2: Page 777.]

[Footnote 3: Du Mont. Voyag. t. iii. let. 5.]

[Footnote 4: Chaumont Voyag. de Siam.]

[Footnote 5: Bayle Dict. t. ii. p. 1266.]

[Footnote 6: AElian, lib. ii. ch. 33.]

[Footnote 7: Du Mont. Voyag. t. iii. lit. 5.]

[Footnote 8: Rec. choise d'Hist.]

CHAP. XXVII.

RIGOROUS LAWS AGAINST WINE AND DRUNKENNESS.

It is easy to imagine, that princes who did not love wine themselves, would make very rigorous laws against drunkenness, and fall into that fault which Horace speaks of.

Dum vitant stulti vitia in contraria currunt.[a]