The "Characters" of Jean de La Bruyère

Part 28

Chapter 283,881 wordsPublic domain

(66.) A good physician is a man who employs specifics, or, if he has not got any, allows those persons who have them to cure his patient

(67.) Quacks are rash, and therefore rarely successful; hence physic and physicians are in vogue; the latter let you die, the former kill you.

(68.) Carro Carri[803] lands in France with a recipe which he says cures in a short time, and which, sometimes, is a slow poison; it has been in the hands of his family for many years, but he has improved it. It is a specific against the colic, yet he cures quartan ague, pleurisy, dropsy, apoplexy, and epilepsy. Rack your memory a little, and mention the first disease you can think of, let us say hemorrhage; he can cure it. It is true he raises no one from the dead, and does not restore men to life, but he keeps them, of course, till they are decrepit, for it is by mere chance that his father and grandfather, who were acquainted with the secret, both died very young. Physicians receive for their visits the fees people give them, and some are even satisfied with thanks; but Carro Carri is so certain of his remedy, and of its effect, that he does not hesitate to take his fee beforehand, and expects to receive before he has given anything. If the disease be incurable, so much the better; it will be the more deserving of his attention and his remedy.[804] Begin with putting into his hands thousands of francs, make over to him some bonds,[805] and then you have no longer any need to be more uneasy about your cure than he himself is. The world is full of men with names ending in o and i, most respectable names, who are all rivals of this man, and impose on the patients and the disease. Fagon,[806] you will admit that neither your physicians nor those of all the faculties in the world always cure or are certain of their cure; but those who have inherited their empirical medicine from their forefathers, and whose experience has come to them in the same way, always promise, and even pledge themselves by oath, to cure their patients. How sweet it is for men not to abandon hope even when attacked by a mortal disease, and still to think they are pretty well when expiring! Death is then an agreeable surprise, and comes without striking terror beforehand; so that a man feels it before he has thought of preparing for it and giving himself up to it. O Esculapius Fagon! Establish throughout the world the reign of Peruvian bark and of emetics;[807] carry to its perfection the science of those plants which are given to man for prolonging life;[808] observe in your practice, with more exactness and judgment than was ever done before, the influence of climate and weather, the various symptoms and the natural disposition of your patients; treat them in the only way which suits them and by which they can be cured; eradicate the most obscure and inveterate diseases from the human body, which has no secrets for you; but do not attempt the diseases of the mind, for they can never be cured, and leave, therefore, to Corinna, Lesbia, Canidia, Trimalcion, and Carpus, the passion, or rather the mania, they have for quacks.

(69.) Astrologers and fortune-tellers, who practise palmistry and calculate nativities, guess at things past by the motion of a sieve, and show undimmed truth in a looking-glass or in a cup of water, are publicly tolerated; such people are, indeed, not without their use; they predict to men theyʼll make their fortune, to girls they shall marry their sweethearts, console those children whose fathers are too long dying, and calm the restlessness of young women married to old men; in a word, they deceive, but not at a very high rate, those who wish to be deceived.

(70.) What is to be thought of magic and sorcery? Its theory is very obscure; its principles are vague, uncertain, and visionary, but some facts have been produced which are perplexing, and certified by serious-minded men who were present when they happened, or learned them from other men as reliable as they themselves are. To admit or to deny all these facts seems equally absurd, and I venture to say that in this and in other extraordinary things which deviate from natureʼs laws, a middle course has to be steered between mere credulity and obstinate rejection.[809]

(71.) Children can scarcely know too many languages, and methinks, all means should be taken to facilitate their acquiring them; there is no condition of life in which they are not useful, for they clear the way for the acquisition of solid learning, as well as for easy and pleasant acquirements. If this somewhat difficult study is put off to that more advanced age which is called youth, people have no longer the strength of mind and the will to follow it up, and if they do, they find it impossible to persevere; for in studying those languages they consume that very time which should be applied in speaking them, and confine themselves to mastering words when they wish to proceed beyond, and require facts; and thus they lose the first and most valuable years of their life. Such a grand foundation can never rightly be laid, unless it be when the soul naturally receives everything, is deeply impressed by it, and when the memory is fresh, quick, and steady; when the mind and the heart are yet void of passions, cares, and desires, and when those who have a right to dispose of us, induce us to labour for a considerable time. I am convinced the small number of true scholars and the great number of superficial ones is owing to the neglect of this rule.[810]

(72.) The study of the original texts can never be sufficiently recommended; it is the shortest, the safest, and the most pleasant way for all kinds of learning. Take things from the beginning, go to the main spring, read over the text repeatedly, learn it by heart, quote it upon occasions; above all, apply yourself to penetrate the sense of it to its fullest extent and in all its circumstances, reconcile an authorʼs various sentiments, settle his principles, and draw your own conclusions. The early commentators were in the very position I should wish you to be; never borrow their explanations nor adopt their ideas unless your own fail you, for their interpretation is not yours and may easily slip out of your memory; on the contrary, your observations have sprung up in your own mind, will abide with you, and more readily recur in your conversations, consultations, and discussions. You will be delighted to observe that in your reading no insurmountable difficulties will present themselves except those that have nonplussed commentators and scholiasts themselves, who, moreover, have at their command such a rich and abundant store of vain and useless learning when passages are sufficiently clear and present no difficulties to themselves nor to others. This system of studying the original texts will convince you that menʼs laziness has encouraged pedants to increase the bulk of libraries rather than their worth, and to crush the text under a weight of commentaries; by doing this they have injured themselves and acted contrary to their own interests, as those same commentaries have caused an increase of reading, researches, and of that kind of labour which they intended to render useless.

(73.) What is it that governs men in their way of living and in their diet? Is it health and sobriety? That is the question. Whole nations first eat fruit and meat afterwards, whilst others do quite the contrary, and some begin their meal with one kind of fruit and finish it with another. Does this proceed from reason or custom? Is it for their healthʼs sake that men wear their clothes buttoned up to their chin, and put on ruffs and bands after going for so many ages quite open-breasted?[811] Is it for the sake of decency, especially at a time when they have found the means of appearing undressed though they are dressed?[812] On the other hand, are women who expose their breasts and shoulders, less delicate in their constitution than men, or less inclined to decency? It is a strange kind of modesty which induces them to hide their legs and almost their feet, and at the same time allows them to bare their arms to the elbow.[813] How came men formerly to think they had to attack or defend themselves whilst waging war, and who taught them the use of offensive and defensive arms? What obliges them to-day to lay these aside, to put on boots to go to a ball, and to support the pioneers in the trenches, exposed to the whole fire of a counterscarp, without having any arms, and only dressed in a doublet.[814] Were our forefathers wise or senseless in not deeming such a practice useful to their king or their country? And who are our heroes renowned in history? A du Guesclin, a Clisson, a Foix, a Boucicault,[815] who all wore helmets and buckled on breast-plates?

Who can account for the introduction of certain words and the proscription of others?[816]

_Ains_ is lost; the vowel beginning it, and which could so easily be cut off, could not save it; it gave way to another monosyllable which at best is but its anagram.[817] _Certes_ is beautiful in its old age, and has yet strength, though declining; it should be used in poetry, and our language is under some obligation to those authors who employ it in prose and defend it in their works. _Maint_ is a word which should never have been forsaken, and on account of its adaptability for any style and for the sake of its French origin.[818] _Moult_, though descended from the Latin, possessed in its time the same merit, and I do not see why _beaucoup_ should be preferred to it. _Car_ has endured some persecution, and if it had not been protected by some men of culture, it would have been shamefully banished from a language which it had served so long; and this without knowing what word to put in its place.[819] When _cil_ was in fashion it was one of the prettiest words of the French language; and it is a sad thing for the poets that it has become antiquated. _Douloureux_ is, of course, derived from _douleur_, and so are _chaleureux_ or _chaloureux_ from _chaleur_: yet _chaloureux_ is going out,[820] though it enriched our tongue, and was employed quite correctly when _chaud_ was not the right expression. _Valeur_ ought also to have given us _valeureux_; _haine, haineux_; _peine, peineux_; _fruit, fructueux_; _pitié, piteux_; _joie, jovial_; _foi, féal_; _cour, courtois_; _gîte, gisant_; _haleine, halené_; _vanterie, vantard_; _mensonge, mensonger_; _coutume, coutumier_; just as _part_ should have produced _partial_; _point, pointu_ and _pointilleux_; _ton, tonnant_; _son, sonore_; _frein, effréné_; _front, effronté_; _ris, ridicule_; _loi, légal_; _cœur, cordial_; _bien, benin_; and _mal, malicieux_. _Heur_ was allowed when _bonheur_ did not suit; from the first arose _heureux_, which is so French and yet exists no longer; if some poets have employed it, it is more for the sake of the measure than from choice. _Issue_ prospers, and comes from _issir_, no longer in existence. _Fin_ is used, but not _finer_, which is derived from it, whilst _cesse_ and _cesser_ are still flourishing. _Verd_ no longer gives _verdoyer_, nor _fête, fétoyer_; nor _larme, larmoyer_; nor _deuil, se douloir_ and _se condouloir_; nor _joie, sʼéjouir_; though it still makes _se réjouir_ and _se conjouir_, whilst _orgueil_ gives _sʼenorgueillir_. Formerly _gent_ was used, as in _le corps gent_; this easy word is not alone no longer in use, but it has involved _gentil_ in its ruin. We employ _diffamé_, which proceeds from _fame_, which is out of date, and _curieux_ is derived from _cure_, now obsolete. It was much better to say _si que_ than _de sorte que_ or _de manière que_, _de moi_ instead of _pour moi_ or _quant à moi_; _je sais que cʼest quʼun mal_[821] than _je sais ce que cʼest quʼun mal_, whether you consider the Latin analogy, or the benefit we often derive from using a word less in a phrase.[822] Custom has preferred _par conséquent_ to _par conséquence_, and _en conséquence_ to _en conséquent_; _façons de faire_ to _manières de faire_, and _manières dʼagir_ to _façons dʼagir_ ...; in the verbs _travailler_ to _ouvrer_; _être accoutumé_ to _souloir_; _convenir_ to _duire_; _faire du bruit_ to _bruire_; _injurier_ to _vilainer_; _piquer_ to _poindre_; and _faire ressouvenir_ to _ramentevoir_ ...; and in the nouns _pensées_ to _pensers_, which is such a beautiful word and so suited for poetry; _grandes actions_ to _prouesses_; _louanges_ to _los_; _méchanceté_ to _mauvaistié_; _porte_ to _huis_; _navire_ to _nef_; _armée_ to _ost_; _monastère_ to _monstier_; and _prairies_ to _prées_ ...; all words, equally fine, which might have been used together and rendered the language more copious. Through adding, suppressing, changing, or displacing some letters, custom has formed _frelater_ from _fralater_; _prouver_ from _preuver_; _profit_ from _proufit_; _froment_ from _froument_; _profil_ from _pourfil_; _provision_ from _pourveoir_; _promener_ from _pourmener_, and _promenade_ from _pourmenade_.[823] This same custom upon occasion makes the adjectives _habile_, _utile_, _facile_, _docile_, _mobile_, and _fertile_ of different genders, without changing anything in their spelling; whilst, on the contrary, the masculine _vil_ and _subtil_ change in the feminine and become _vile_ and _subtile_.[824] It has altered the old terminations, and of _scel_ made _sceau_; of _mantel_, _manteau_; of _capel_, _chapeau_; of _coutel_, _couteau_; of _hamel_, _hameau_; of _damoisel_, _damoiseau_; of _jouvencel_, _jouvenceau_;[825] and yet all these differences and changes have been of no perceptible advantage to the French tongue. Is it, therefore, a progress for a language to be governed by custom, and would it not be better to shake off the yoke of such despotic sway? Or shall we in a living language only listen to reason, which prevents the use of words having a double meaning, traces these words to their roots, and discovers what relation they bear to those languages from which they sprang, if that very reason bids us follow custom?[826]

Whether our ancestors wrote better than we do, or whether we excel them in our selection of words, style, and expression, perspicuity and brevity, is a question often debated but never yet decided. But this question is not at an end, if people will compare, as they sometimes do, a dull writer of a past century to the most celebrated authors of the present age, or the verses of Laurent,[827] who is paid for not writing any more, to those of Marot and Desportes.[828] In order to judge sensibly in this case we should compare one age to another, and one first-rate piece of literary work to another, such as, for example, the best _rondeaux_ of Benserade and Voiture[829] to the following two, which tradition has handed down to us, but without transmitting to us the name of the authors, or the time when they were written:[830]—

In timely sort Ogier came into Fraunce, Of Paynim misbegot to rid the lond; Needs not that I should tell his puissaunce, Sit never foeman durst his glaunce withstond.

Thoʼ when he hath set all in happy chaunce, Forth on a perlous jorney bent, he fond In Paradise the well of youthʼs joyaunce, Wherewith he thought to stay timeʼs threatening bond In timely sort.

Thoʼ by this well his body, weak with years, Upon a sodain changéd quight appears To youthful wight, fresh, limber eke, and straight.

Great pitye ʼtis such lesinges tell no truth! Virgins I wot of that bene past their youth, To whom this bath had come, ere yet too late, In timely sort.

* * * * *

Of this prow knight full many clerks have penned That never daunger could his corage scare: Whom natheless the foul fiend, which unaware He ʼspoused in womanʼs shape, did foully shend.

So piteous case left his stout heart at end Without one taint of fear or sordid care: Whereof great praise throughout the world he bare— If aught of credence we to tales may lend Of this prow knight.

Eftsoones it chaunced the daughter of the king Earned for his love, and made free offering To Richard, of herself for second wife.

Then, if to keep a woman or a fiend Be better, and which stirs more hellish strife, He that would weet may question which was weened Of this prow knight.

XV.

OF THE PULPIT.[831]

(1.) A sermon at present has become a mere show, in which there is not the least appearance of that evangelical gravity which is the very soul of it; a good appearance, a well-modulated voice, careful gestures, choice expressions, and prolonged enumerations supply its place. To listen attentively whilst Holy Writ is dispensed is no longer customary; going to church is an amusement, among numberless others, and is a diversion in which there exists rivalry and many persons bet on various competitors.

(2.) Profane eloquence is transferred from the bar, where Le Maître, Pucelle, and Fourcroy[832] formerly practised it, and where it has become obsolete,[833] to the Pulpit, where it is out of place.

Clergymen contest even the prize of eloquence at the altar and before the holy mysteries; every person in the congregation thinks himself a judge of the preacher, censures or applauds him, and is no more converted by the sermon he approves of than by the one he condemns. The orator pleases some and not others; but agrees with all in this: that as he does not endeavour to render them better, they never trouble their heads about becoming so.

An apprentice ought to be obedient and do what his master tells him; he profits by his instructions, and in time becomes himself a master; but man is more untoward, for he criticises the preacherʼs discourses as well as the philosopherʼs works, and thus becomes neither a Christian nor a philosopher.

(3.) Orators and declaimers will attract large congregations until that man returns who in a style, based on the Holy Scriptures, shall explain to the people the Word of God in a simple and familiar manner.[834]

(4.) Quotations from profane authors, dull allusions, bathos, antithesis, and hyperboles are no longer in vogue, and portraits[835] will also cease to be in fashion, and give way to a plain exposition of the gospel, accompanied by other means that produce conversion.

(5.) At length a man has made his appearance for whom I so impatiently longed, but whom I dared not expect to behold in this age. The courtiers, from delicacy of taste and a feeling of decorum, have applauded him; and what is almost incredible, have left the kingʼs chapel to mingle among the crowd, and hear the Word of God preached by a truly apostolic man.[836] The town was not of the same opinion as the court, and in whatever city-church he spoke not one of the parishioners came, and the very churchwardens left their pew; the clergymen indeed stuck to him, but the flock was scattered and went to swell the congregations of neighbouring orators. This is what I should have foreseen; and therefore, I ought not to have advanced that such a man, whenever he appeared, would be universally followed, and would only have to open his mouth to be listened to, for I know how difficult it is to eradicate force of habit in mankind in all things. During the past thirty years, rhetoricians, declaimers, and enumerators have been listened to; and people run after preachers who depict in a grand style or in miniature. Not long since sermons were full of points and clever transitions, sometimes even so smart and pungent that they might have served for epigrams: now, I confess, these are somewhat softened, and may pass for madrigals. Three things, these preachers argue, are always absolutely indispensable, mathematically necessary, and worthy of your entire attention; one thing they prove in the first part of their discourse, another in the second, and another in the third; so that you are to be convinced of one truth, which is their first point of doctrine; of another truth, which is their second point; and of a third truth, which is their third point. In this manner the first reflection will instruct you in one of the fundamental principles of religion; the second in another principle which is not less fundamental; and the last reflection in a third and last principle, the most important of all, but which, for want of leisure, is reserved for another opportunity. In a word, to recapitulate and abridge this division, and to form a scheme of.... “Hold,” you exclaim, “do these preachers require more preparation for a speech of not quite an hourʼs length which they have to deliver? The more these gentlemen strive to explain and make things clear to me, the more they bemuddle my brains.”—I can well believe you, and it is the most natural result of such a mass and confusion of ideas which come all to one and the same thing, but with which they unmercifully burden the memory of their audience. To see them obstinately persist in this custom, people would almost think that the grace of being converted was inseparable of such long-winded divisions and sub-divisions. But how is it possible to be converted by apostles, whom we can hardly hear, follow, and keep in sight? I should like to ask them to condescend and rest several times, in the midst of their headlong career, and give their audience and themselves a short breathing time. But I may spare myself the trouble of addressing them and of wasting words on them. Homilies are out of date, and the Basils and Chrysostoms[837] could not restore them, for if they came back, people would take refuge in other dioceses, so as not to hear them nor their familiar and instructive discourses. Men in general like fine phrases and periods, admire what they do not understand,[838] fancy themselves well informed, and are satisfied with deciding between a first and second point of doctrine, or between the last sermon and the last but one.

(6.) Not a hundred years ago a French book consisted of a certain number of pages written in Latin, with here and there a line or two of French scattered on each page. But such passages, anecdotes, and quotations from Latin authors[839] did not only fill books; Ovid and Catullus, at the bar, decided finally in cases of marriages and wills, and were of as much use to widows and orphans as the Pandects were.[840] Sacred and profane authors were inseparable, and seemed to have slipped together in the pulpit; Saint Cyril and Horace, Saint Cyprian and Lucretius, spoke by turns; the poets were of the same opinion as Saint Augustin[841] and the rest of the Fathers. Latin was the language spoken before women and churchwardens, for any length of time, and even sometimes Greek; there was no preaching so wretchedly without a prodigious amount of learning. But the times are changed, and customs alter; the text still continues in Latin, but the sermons are preached in French, and in the purest French, whilst the Gospel is not so much as quoted. Little learning is requisite now-a-days to preach very well.

(7.) Scholastic divinity is at last driven out of the pulpits of all the great towns in the kingdom, and confined only to hamlets and villages for the instruction and edification of ploughmen and vine-dressers.

(8.) A preacher must have some intelligence to charm the people by his florid style,[842] by his exhilarating system of morality, by the repetition of his figures of speech, his brilliant remarks and vivid descriptions; but, after all, he has not too much of it, for if he possessed some of the right quality he would neglect these extraneous ornaments, unworthy of the Gospel, and preach naturally, forcibly, and like a Christian.