Part 5

XLI. The stratagem of this little animal exactly resembles that which the devil practises upon men. He displays to him the road of vice, very broad and commodious at the entrance; the unhappy man, lured by this appearance, enters without suspicion, and in the consequence becomes a prey to his criminal pleasures. The road, by little and little, grows narrower; one care oppresses him on one side, and another on the other; sickness and old age, which are very nearly allied together, come on; his limbs begin to contract, and the use of them to forsake him; fear, solicitude, grief and heaviness, press upon him more and more every day, till he is put in such a strait, that even the soul with its spiritual nature is unable to ruminate or reflect on: by this progression, the sinner, in the end, arrives at the summit of anguish, and at that unhappy station, from whence it is impossible to recede, _ubi nulla est redemptio_, and where he will be eternally food for that ravenous serpent, whose voracity and thirst of blood is never satiated: _Mors depascet eos_; which Cardinal Hugo expounds, _Diabolus depascet eos._

XLII. This remarkable difference and opposition between virtue and vice, was not hid from the antients, for the light of natural reason was sufficient to acquire this knowledge; and Virgil has painted beautifully, the distinction between the one and the other path, in the following verses:

_Nam via virtutis dextrum petit ardua collem_ _Difficilemque aditum primum spectantibus offert,_ _Sed requiem præbet fessis in vertice summo._ _Molle ostentat iter via lata; sed ultima meta_ _Præcipitat captos, volvitque per ardua saxa._

Exalted and Humble FORTUNE.

Those were blind themselves, who feigned Fortune to be blind; and they were unjust, who accused her of partiality. This error is corrected by religion, when it teaches us, that what is meant by the word Fortune, is nothing else but the Divine Providence, which is all eyes, and proceeds in every thing from the justest motives. But although the error is corrected in the essential, the deception is not so effectually dispelled, but there is still left remaining, a faint appearance of the principle. The complainers of fortune, compute the inequality of men’s lots, according to the greater or less parade and figure which they make among their fellow creatures; and seeing that in a great measure, this inequality is not proportioned to men’s merits, the wicked attribute it to the chimerical force of accident, the idolators to the caprice of a blind deity, and the true believers to the disposing will of a Supreme Providence.

II. These last conclude well, but they suppose ill, for thus it is; the circling wheel of Fortune, and all its movements, are directed by a divine hand; and the raising up some, and casting down others, is so ordered and regulated, with the most wise design. It is also certain (and this reflection is of infinite importance) that with respect to many, we see but one half of the wheel’s turning, the remainder of its circuit being reserved for completion in the other world. We observe, that Fortune raises some, and never lowers them, and that it casts down others, without ever raising them. What is this? Nothing more, than that Providence in this mortal life, gives the wheel but half a turn; the round is concluded in the other hemisphere; so that those who rise here, go down there, and those who descend here, are there mounted up. This is the most ordinary course, although there is no rule without an exception.

SECT. II.

III. But supposing what I have just premised is admitted, notwithstanding all the solutions and precautions we can advert to, a serious and pernicious deceit continues to impose on, and in some sort, govern the world, which is derived, as I have already observed, from those who conclude well, but suppose badly. In the distribution they make of happy, and unhappy people, they suppose an inequality, which in reality does not exist, nor is it to be found in the fortunes of men. He who occupies posts of dignity, he who inhabits a magnificent palace, he who possesses great riches, and much more he whose temples are adorned with a crown, is reputed the happiest of men. On the contrary, he who beneath an humble roof, scarce known to the world, who to subsist and enable him to live, has no more than is absolutely necessary, is considered as unhappy. At least, the fortune of this last, is judged to be as much inferior to that of the other, as a little fountain is to the whole stock of waters contained in the Nile.

IV. Very different was the sentiment of the oracle of Delphi, who, when he was asked by Gyges King of Lydia, who was the happiest man in the world? replied, “Agalus Psophidius, the possessor of a little estate, in a confined corner of Arcadia, is the most happy man who inhabits the globe.” The King, who expected to be told that himself was the happiest man, remained equally confounded and surprized.

V. Agathocles was a monster of Fortune; from being the son of a poor potter of the City of Regio, he rose to be sovereign of Sicily, with all which, I believe, that by comparing his fortune with that of Carcinus his father, we shall find that the father was the more happy man of the two. It is certain, he did not live in that continual uneasiness, which agitated the whole life of Agathocles, nor did he suffer any grief so intense, or of so long duration, as that of Agathocles, which was occasioned by the death of his sons, who were barbarously beheaded by his own soldiers.

VI. Pliny, in his seventh Book, speaking of those Romans, who, in some instances, were the most remarkable favourites of Fortune, such as the dictator Scylla, the two Metellus’s, and Octavius Augustus, points out at the same time, so many counterpoises to their good luck, as to leave it doubtful, whether the scale of their adversity, or of their prosperity preponderated.

VII. The labour would be infinite, if, by turning over history, you was to instance all those, to whom the hand of fortune, has alternately dealt the most cruel blows, and administered the most tender gratifications; nor would such an enquiry be of any avail to our purpose, because every one will readily grant, there is no asylum in this world, to protect us from the rigours of fate; nor is there any privilege annexed to high dignity, which exempts it from the jurisdiction of misfortune. The best method then is, to weigh the one and the other fortune, the exalted and the humble, and estimate them, according to what in their common and ordinary state, they are found to contain in themselves; abstracted from any extraordinary accidents, either favourable or adverse.

SECT. III.

VIII. I say then, that humble fortune according to its intrinsic value, if it does not exceed, is at least equal to the exalted. In order to give at once a clear and a solid proof of this fact, which may seem a mystery, it should be understood as a certain truth, that riches do not constitute happiness in men, in proportion to their material magnitude, but in proportion to what is enjoyed of them, either with respect to convenience, or the pleasure they occasion. What is a rich man the better, for having his table covered with a variety of delicate eatables, if he has lost his appetite? with all his dainties, he cannot be said to regale himself; and it fares much better in point of gratification with a poor man, who eats of a coarse dish, if his palate embraces it with earnestness.

IX. The comparison of relish with respect to food, may be applied to all our other senses and faculties with respect to their objects; for let these be gratified and delighted to whatever degree you can suppose, the pleasure produced in every individual, will tally with the disposition of the organ; and therefore, the greater or lesser degree of felicity of the subject, in the use of those objects, should be measured, not by the entative magnitude which is contained in them, but by the delight they afford. This being the case, you will find, that vast riches do not furnish to an opulent man greater enjoyments, nor turn aside from him more vexations, than is afforded to, and diverted from a poor man with his scanty means; and you will conclude, those are not more happy than these, and that consequently the fortunes of both are equal.

X. But how are we to know the hearts, and what passes in the breasts of persons in the one and the other state? Nothing is more easy. Nero erected a temple to Fortune, which he built with transparent stones, found in his days in Capadocia; so that from the outside, although the doors were shut, you could see all that passed within the temple. And nature has so made mankind, that from without, you may discern their good or bad interior situation, their looks for this purpose supplying the use of transparent stones, and their lips expressing their pleasures and vexations. Observe, says Seneca, (Epist. 80.) through the crystal of their countenances, the recesses of the bosoms of the rich and the poor: _compara inter se pauperum & divitum vultus_, and you will most frequently find the last more chearful than the first: _sæpius pauper, & fidelius ridet_. In this instance, he gives the preference to the condition of the poor; in other respects, he supposes the benefits of both stations to be equal: observe, says he, the greatest part of the poor people, and you will find, that they are in no respect more sad or oppressed than the rich: _primum aspice quanto major pars sit pauperum, quos nihilo notabis tristiores, solicitioresque divitibus_. (In consolat. ad Helviam.)

XI. Saint Austin found great benefit, from a reflection he made, upon seeing a Mendicant Friar go through a village in the state of Milan, to all appearance quite chearful and happy. He compared his own fortune with that of the poor man, and found, that he was joyous, and himself oppressed; that he was free from apprehensions, and himself full of terrors: _Et certè ille lætabatur, ego anxius eram; securus ille, ego trepidus_; and from thence he concluded, the fortune of that Mendicant was much better than his own: _Nimirum quippe ille felicior erat._ (Confess. lib. 6. cap. 6.)

XII. This is viewing things according to what they are in their own nature. To estimate the felicity of any man, you should not consider the goods he possesses, but the enjoyment he receives from the possession of them. Although the rich man always sits down to a splendid banquet, a poor man regales himself better than him, if, as is most commonly the case, he knows better what he eats. No man will say, that the existence of riches without their use is of any value. It is necessary, in order to relish their sweets, that you should expend them. They are a good of such a nature, that they can only be enjoyed when you part with them. He who keeps his gold in a chest may receive some satisfaction in contemplating, that he has it at his command, but that is much inferior to the inevitable chagrin, which attends his continual care and anxiety. Horace sung wisely, who held, that convenience consisted more in the want, than in the possession of such goods, as their concern for the preservation of kept people in constant alarms and terrors night and day, for fear a thief should break in and steal them, an unfaithful servant purloin them, or a fire consume them.

_An vigilare metu exanimem, noctesque diesque_ _Formidare malos fures, incendia, servos_ _Ne te compilent fugientes, hoc juvat? Horum_ _Semper ego optarim pauperimus esse bonorum._

Lib. 1. Sat. 1.

XIII. Quicksilver occasions continual tremors to him who works it in the mines; gold and silver, to him who keeps and turns them over in a chest. There is no doubt, but the pleasure of finding himself rich is greatest in a covetous man, but his care and anxiety are excessive in proportion to it. Besides this, he is not so much gratified by the goods he enjoys, as he is made uneasy by the desire of possessing those he is not master of. There is always in his heart an immense vacuum, as obnoxious to his avarice, as a vacuum in all bodies is to nature, and his thirst is of the dropsical kind, so that the more he drinks, the more he craves.

XIV. Upon a supposition then, that instead of convenience, there is evil and vexation in the mere possession of riches, let us proceed to take a view of the benefits that may result from their use. And first, riches to a very large amount, are exceedingly superfluous for furnishing the accommodations of life. If a man, possessed of a few thousands of crowns, can find sufficient to purchase all that can be reasonably desired, of what use are millions? To what purpose should he who finds water sufficient for all his occasions in a little fountain, bring a river into his house? He would acquire nothing by such an act, but the hatred and indignation of those, who see, that without utility to himself, a man monopolizes a stock of water, sufficient to accommodate a whole town; by doing which, he exposes himself to the malicious designs that a wicked and perverse person may form to take away his life, in hopes that by perpetrating the fatal deed, he might become master of his property; and it is certain, that many persons from such a motive only, have fallen victims to the knife or to poison; so that an excess of doubloons to the owner, are rather things of weight, than things of worth. I mean, that instead of a convenience, they are dangerous, and an evil of life.

XV. But though they are not necessary to furnish the reasonable accommodations of life, they may be serviceable to purchase the pleasures of it. Upon this head much may be said. The natural desires of the greatest part of mankind, are fixed upon such objects, that with a moderate income, they are able to satisfy all their real wants. Meat and drink that might be stiled regaling, the diversion of hunting, and frequent amusement at play, may be all attained with a moderate portion of thousands. Of what advantage are immense riches to him, whose whole delight is centered in the cup and the dish, if he cannot eat or drink more than the proportion of a single man; and if, urged by his gluttony, he strives to cram down as much as would serve two, he would soon destroy his health, and not be able to eat a sufficient quantity to satisfy half a man. A person spending his substance, in diversions that are not suited to his genius or inclination, is throwing it away intirely. The sweetness or soothing of music, is allowed to be the greatest enchantment existing in the world, but what charms has it to him who wants an ear, or cannot relish it? The vassals of Antæus, an ancient King of Scythia, having taken Ysmenias, the famous Theban musician, a prisoner in war, presented him to their master as a prize of great value. Anteus after hearing him awhile, declared, that the neighing of his horse sounded better to him than all the fine tones of Ysmenias. Nor should we understand, that the want of musical feeling is confined to one single barbarous genius, for not only the tigers fly from the lyre, but many cultivated spirits are deaf as adders to the charms of music. It is told of Justus Lipsius, that he abhorred music, and that his whole delight was in flowers and dogs. Many men are insensible of the recreation afforded by harmony; and those who are not, for the most part content themselves with a coarse sort of music, which may be had at a cheap rate, and often for nothing. The remarks we have made on music, may be applied generally to all other kinds of amusement. How many are there, who cannot endure so much as to be in company with, or to converse with women! Flowers, which are the most beautiful production of nature, and with which the fields are cloathed with more splendor and gaiety than Solomon in all his glory, to some people are not only ungrateful, but noxious also. There have been those, who the fragrancy of a rose has caused to fall into a fainting fit. Cardinal Esfrondati, in his Curso Philosophica, relates of another Cardinal, that during the whole time of the spring, he kept a watch at the door, to prevent a rose being brought into his house. Spacious gardens afford but a slender delight to abundance of men, and to many, not even that slender one; besides this, in time, it becomes a sickening amusement, which with regard to the gardens of others may be removed, but not with regard to a man’s own; for that being always in his view, he comes at last to loath the sight of it.

SECT. V.

XVI. Thus with respect to many individuals, all that is attracting is comprehended in objects of little value. It is true however, that if you could collect all these into one heap, they would amount to something considerable. But to what end should people endeavour this? I am sure I don’t know, nor many times they themselves neither. What passed between Pyrrhus, King of Albania, and his wise friend and counsellor Cineus, is pleasant, and applicable to this matter. Cineus said to that prince in a conversation between them, the subject of which was Pyrrhus’s intended invasion of the Romans; “Truly, Sir, the undertaking is difficult, for we shall have to do with a martial, and a powerful people; but supposing the success of our arms to be so great, as that we should subdue the Romans, what fruit shall we reap by the conquest?” “Are you at a loss to find out that, answered Pyrrhus? Shall not we make ourselves masters of all Italy?” And what shall we do afterwards, replied Cineus? Pyrrhus answered, “We will conquer Sicily, which is in the neighbourhood, and may be easily subdued.” “That will be a great thing, said Cineus; but when that’s done, shall we put an end to the war?” Pyrrhus, who had not yet penetrated the drift of Cineus in asking all these questions, answered, “By no means; after conquering Sicily, we will proceed to Africa, and possess ourselves of Carthage, and the adjacent kingdoms.” “You are clear, said Cineus, that the Gods will indulge you with all this good fortune; but when this is done, what are we to employ ourselves about next?” “We will return, said Pyrrhus; to our own country, cloathed with immense power, and we will conquer all the Empire of Greece.” “Having conquered Greece, replied Cineus, what are we to do then?” “When this is compleated, answered Pyrrhus, we will pass the remainder of our lives in soft and sublime indolence, without thinking of any thing but banquets, and festive society.” Here Cineus, who had without the King’s being aware of him, entangled him in the net, said laughingly; “But pray Sir, what should hinder us from beginning to enjoy all this happiness at this instant of time? Is not the kingdom you are possessed of sufficient to furnish you banquets, and every other kind of regale? To what end then, should you conquer provinces and cross seas, wasting your health, and exposing your life to the rage of waves, and fury of battles?”

XVII. This reasoning, which is taken almost literally from Plutarch, is well adapted, not only to that ambitious Prince, but may be also properly applied to an infinite number of other men; who accumulate riches upon riches, at the expence of dangers and fatigues, and who, without knowing what they are in pursuit of, run a vicious and an erroneous course, in search of the very thing they possess. The pride of Philip King of Macedon, was mortified with great address by Archidamus the IIId, King of Sparta, whom Philip had overcome in a battle; and the day after wrote Archidamus a letter, full of arrogance and insult; to which Archidamus answered, That if he would place himself in the sun, he would find that his shadow was not a jot bigger after, than it was the day before the battle. Thus it is, that fortune aggrandizes, but adds nothing to the stature.

SECT. VI.

XVIII. Those, who are under the dominion of ambition and avarice, invert the order and nature of things; placing the end in the means of attaining it. They desire more, only to hoard more, and to have more power, merely for the sake of domineering more. But how does it fare with such people? why that they are always unhappy; because the hunger and thirst of their desires is never appeased, but either remains constantly in the same state, or else proceeds to acquire fresh augmentations. The weight of honour and riches has the same effect on the human heart, which weights have upon a clock; the greater they are, they cause the machine to be more violently agitated, and to move with greater impetuosity. The passions go on to display a succession of cavities, as the first openings are continued to be filled up. At first, the thirst can be satisfied with a fountain; after having grown into a dropsy, it requires a river to satisfy it, and after having swallowed the river, it craves the ocean: _Ecce absorbebit fluvium, & non mirabitur._ Alexander in his first schemes of ambition, had nothing further in view, than the destruction of Thebes, and the conquest of Thrace and Illyricum; having compleated this, he took it into his head to subdue the Asiatic Empire, and when he was in quiet possession of that, upon hearing a philosopher say, there were more worlds, he wept with grief, because that being the case, his ambition could not be satiated with the conquest of one only; which caused Juvenal to sing as follows:

_Unus Pellæo juveni non sufficit orbis._

XIX. Those who endeavour to acquire riches to make use of them, and to employ them in pleasures, seem to have the advantage with respect to temporal convenience. For who can dispute the happiness of him, who being master of great riches, makes them the tributaries of his appetites? so the world judges, and the world deceives itself. The most able man that the world ever produced, and the best qualified to give an opinion in this matter from his own experience, was Solomon, as there was not upon earth, a man who was richer, or even so rich, as him, nor did any man expend his riches with more prodigality to procure enjoyments; in the doing of which, he had this advantageous circumstance in his favour, to wit, his great wisdom and knowledge of nature; which taught him the means that were the best adapted, and the most likely to furnish delight, and which was the best method, of applying objects to enchant the senses: I say, hear this man’s sentiments on the subject, who himself confesses, that he had given a loose to his pleasures, and gratified them with every thing their voracity craved: _Omnia, quæ desideraverunt oculi mei, non negavi eis: nec prohibui cor meum, quin omni voluptate frueretur._ And what did he meet with in this sea of delights? nothing but bitter waters: he found that all was vanity and vexation of spirit: _Vidi in omnibus vanitatem, & afflictionem animi_; and he found it so to such an extreme degree, as to make his life a burthen to him: _Idcirco tæduit me vitæ meæ._

XX. This is exalted and brilliant fortune; and so exalted, that the fortune of no man ever rose to a more sublime degree of altitude. I ask now, if the most miserable man in the world can find his heart placed in a state of greater anguish, than when he endures the irksome sensation, of loathing, or being tired of his existence? We know that Job used no other phrase, to express the profound agony which his singular calamity had brought upon him: _Tædet animam meam vitæ meæ._

XXI. What Solomon says is infallible, because the church has received that book as canonical. But though it should be confessed, that the truth of this matter is an article of faith, it also appears mysterious: for how could so much bitterness, be contained in the greatest delights? Solomon did not chuse to decipher this enigma, although his abilities would have permitted him to do it with the greatest ease. Let us see if I can hit upon its explanation, and I think I shall.

SECT. VII.