 Preface to The Fable of the Bees. Laws and government are to the political bodies of civil societies with the vital spirits and life itself are to the natural bodies of animated creatures, and as those that study the anatomy of dead carcasses may see, that the chief organs and nicest springs more immediately required to continue the motion of our machine are not hard bones, strong muscles and nerves, nor the smooth white skin that so beautifully covers them, but small trifling films and little pipes that are either overlooked or else seem inconsiderable to vulgar eyes, so they that examine to the nature of man abstract from art and education may observe, that what renders him a sociable animal consists not in his desire of company, good nature, pity, affability and other graces of a fair outside, but that his vilest and most hateful qualities are the most necessary accomplishments to fit him for the largest and according to the world, the happiest and most flourishing societies. The following fable in which what I have said is set forth at large was printed above eight years ago in a six-penny pamphlet called The Grumbling Hive or Naves Turned Honest, and being soon after pirated cried about the streets in a half-penny sheet. Since the first publishing of it I have met with several that either willfully or ignorantly mistaking the design would have it at the scope of it was a satire upon virtue and morality, and the whole wrote for the encouragement of vice. This made me resolve whenever it should be reprinted, some way or other to inform the reader of the real intent this little poem was wrote with. I do not dignify these few loose lines with the name of poem, that I would have the reader expect any poetry in them, but barely because they are rhyme, and I am in reality puzzled what name to give them, for they are neither heroic nor pastoral, satire burlesque nor heroic comic. To be a tale they want probability, and the whole is rather too long for a fable. All I can say of them is that they are story told and doggerel, which, without the least design of being witty, I have endeavored to do in as easy and familiar a manner as I was able. The reader shall be welcome to call them what he pleases. It was said of Montaigne that he was pretty well versed in the defects of mankind, but unacquainted with the excellencies of human nature. If I fare no worse, I shall think myself well used. What country soever in the universe is to be understood by the beehive represented here, it is evident, from what it is said of the laws and constitution of it, the glory, wealth, power, and industry of its inhabitants, that it must be a large, rich and warlike nation that is happily governed by a limited monarchy, the satire therefore to be met with in the following lines, upon the several professions and callings, and almost every degree and station of people, was not made to injure and point to particular persons, but only to show the vileness of the ingredients that altogether composed the wholesome mixture of a well-ordered society, in order to extol the wonderful power of political wisdom, by the help of which so beautiful a machine is raised from the most contemptible branches. For the main design of the fable, as it is briefly explained in the moral, is to show the impossibility of enjoying all the most elegant comforts of life that are to be met with in an industrious, wealthy, and powerful nation, and at the same time be blessed with all the virtue and innocence that can be wished for in a golden age, from thence to expose the unreasonableness and folly of those that desire us of being an opulent and flourishing people, and wonderfully greedy after all the benefits they can receive as such, are yet always murmuring at and exclaiming against those vices and inconveniences that from the beginning of the world to this present day have been inseparable from all kingdoms and all states that ever were famed for strength, riches, and politeness at the same time. To do this, I first slightly touch upon some of the fruits and corruptions the several professions and callings are generally charged with, after that I show that those very vices of every particular person by skillful management were made subservient to the grandeur and worldly happiness of the whole. Lastly, by setting forth what of necessity must be the consequence of general honesty and virtue and national temperance, innocence, and content, I demonstrate that if mankind could be cured of the failings that they are naturally guilty of, they would cease to be capable of being raised into such vast, potent, and polite societies, as they have been under the several great Commonwealths and monarchies that have flourished since the creation. If you ask me, why have I done all this, Cui Bono? And what good these notions will produce? Truly, besides the reader's diversion, I believe none at all. But if I was asked what naturally ought to be expected from them, I would answer that, in the first place, the people who continually find fault with others by reading them would be taught to look at home and examining their own consciences, be made ashamed of always railing at what they are more or less guilty of themselves, and that, in the next, those who are so fond of the ease and comforts and reap all the benefits that are the consequence of a great and flourishing nation would learn more patiently to submit to those inconveniences which no government upon earth can remedy when they should see the impossibility of enjoying any great share of the first, without partaking likewise of the latter. This I say ought naturally to be expected from the publishing of these notions if people were to be made better by anything that could be said to them, but mankind having for so many ages remained still the same, notwithstanding the many instructive and elaborate writings by which their amendment has been endeavored, I am not so vain as to hope for better success from so inconsiderable a trifle. Having allowed the small advantage this little whim is likely to produce, I think myself obliged to show that it cannot be prejudicial to any for what is published if it does no good, ought at least to do no harm. In order to this, I have made some explanatory notes to which the reader will find himself referred in those passages that seem to be most liable to exceptions. This insorius that never saw the grumbling hive will tell me that whatever I may talk of the fable, it not taking up a tenth part of the book, was only contrived to introduce the remarks, that instead of clearing up the doubtful or obscure places, I have only pitched upon such as I had a mind to expiate upon, and that far from striving to extenuate the errors committed before, I have made bad worse, and shown myself a more bare-faced champion for vice in the rambling digressions than I had done in the fable itself. I shall spend no time in answering these accusations, where men are prejudiced, the best apologies are lost, and I know that those who think it criminal to suppose a necessity of vice in any case whatever, will never be reconciled to any part of the performance. But if this be thoroughly examined, all the offence it can give must result from the wrong inferences that may perhaps be drawn from it, and which I desire nobody to make. When I assert that vices are inseparable from great and potent societies, and that it is impossible their wealth and grandeur should subsist without, I do not say that the particular members of them who are guilty of any should not be continually reproved, or not be punished for them when they grow into crimes. There are, I believe, few people in London of those that are at any time forced to go afoot, but what could wish the streets of it much cleaner than generally are, while they regard nothing but their own clothes and private convenience, but when they once come to consider that what offends them is the result of the plenty, great traffic, and opulency of that mighty city, if they have any concern in its welfare, they will hardly ever wish to see the streets of it less dirty. For if we mine the materials of all sorts that must apply such an infinite number of trades and handicrafts, as are always going forward, the vast quantity of victuals drink and fuel that are daily consumed in it, the waste and superfluities that must be produced from them, the multitudes of horses and other cattle that are always dobbing the streets, the carts, coaches, and more heavy carriages that are perpetually wearing and breaking the pavement of them, and, above all, the numberless swarms of people that are continually harassing and trampling through every part of them, if, I say, we mind all these, we shall find that every moment must produce new filth, and considering how far distant the great streets are from the riverside, what cost and care so ever be bestowed to remove the nastiness almost as fast as it is made, it is impossible London should be more cleanly before it is less flourishing. Now I would ask if a good citizen, in consideration of what has been said, might not assert that dirty streets are a necessary evil, inseparable from the felicity of London, without being the least hindrance to the cleaning of shoes or sweeping of streets, and consequently without any prejudice either to the black guard or the scavengers. But if, without any regard to the interest or happiness of the city, the question was put, what place I thought most pleasant to walk in? Nobody can doubt, but before the stinking streets of London, I would esteem a fragrant garden, or a shady grove in the country. In the same manner, if laying aside all worldly greatness and vain glory, I should be asked where I thought it was most probable that men might enjoy true happiness, I would prefer a small peaceable society, in which men, neither envied nor esteemed by neighbors, should be contented to live upon the natural product of the spot they inhabit, to a vast multitude abounding in wealth and power, that should always be conquering others by their arms abroad, and debauching themselves by foreign luxury at home. Thus much I had said to the reader in the first edition, and have added nothing by way of preface in the second. But since that, a violent outcry has been made against the book, exactly answering the expectation I always had of the justice, the wisdom, the charity, and fair dealing of those whose good will I despaired of. It has been presented by the grand jury, and condemned by thousands who never saw a word of it. It has been preached against before my Lord Mayor. And an utter refutation of it is daily expected from a reverend divine, who has called me names in the advertisements, and threatened to answer me in two months' time for about five months together. What I have to say for myself, the reader will see in my vindication at the end of the book, where he will likewise find the grand jury's presentment, and a letter to the right honorable Lord See, which is very rhetorical beyond argument or connection. The author shows a fine talent for invectives, and great sagacity in discovering atheism, where others can find none. He is zealous against wicked books, points at the fable of the bees, and is very angry with the author. He bestows four strong epithets on the enormity of his guilt, and by several elegant innuendos to the multitude, as the danger there is in suffering such authors to live, and the vengeance of heaven upon a whole nation very charitably recommends him to their care. Considering the length of this epistle, and that it is not wholly leveled at me only, I thought at first to have made some extracts from it of what related to myself, but finding on a nearer inquiry that what concerned me was so blended and interwoven with what did not, I was obliged to trouble the reader with it entire, not without hopes that proliques as it is, the extravagancy of it will be entertaining to those who have pursued the treatise it condemns with so much horror. End of Preface. Section 1 of The Fable of the Bees by Bernard Mandeville. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Grumbling Hive, or Naves Turned Honest. A spacious hive well stocked with bees that lived in luxury and ease, and yet as famed for laws and arms as yielding large and early swarms, was counted the great nursery of sciences and industry. No bees had better government, more fickleness or less content. They were not slaves to tyranny, nor ruled by wild democracy, but kings that could not wrong, because their power was circumscribed by laws. These insects lived like men, and all are actions they performed in small. They did whatever is done in town, and what belongs to sword or gown, though the artful works by nimble slight of minute limbs scaped human sight. Yet we've no engines, laborers, ships, castles, arms, artificers, craft, science, shop, or instrument, but they had an equivalent, which, since their language is unknown, must be called as we do our own. As grant that among other things they wanted dice, yet they had kings, and those had guards, from whence we may justly conclude they had some play, unless a regiment be shown of soldiers that make use of none. Vast numbers throng the fruitful hive, yet those vast numbers made them thrive, millions endeavoring to supply each other's lusts and vanity, while other millions were employed to see their handy works destroyed. They furnished half the universe, yet had more work than laborers. Some with vast flocks and little pains jumped into business of great gains, and some were damned to sides and spades, and all those hard, laborious trades were willing wretches daily sweat, and wear out strength and limbs to et, while others followed mysteries to which few folks bind's parentheses, that want no stock but that of brass, and may set up without a cross, as sharpers' parasites pimp's players pickpocket's coiners quack soothsayers, and all those that in enmity, with downright working cunningly, convert to their own use the labor of their good-natured, heedless neighbor. These were called knaves, but bar the name. The grave industrious were the same. All trades and places knew some cheat. No calling was without deceit. The lawyers of whose art the basis was raising the feuds in splitting cases opposed all registers that cheats might make more work with dipped estates, as were to unlawful that one's own without a lawsuit should be known. They kept off hearings willfully, to finger the refreshing fee, and to defend a wicked cause examined and surveyed the laws, as burglar shops and houses do, to find out where they'd best break through. Physicians valued fame and wealth above the drooping patient's health, or their own skill. The greatest part, studied, instead of rules of art, graved pensive looks and dull behavior, to gain the pothicary's favor. The praise of midwives, priests, and all that served at birth, or funeral. To bear with ever-talking tribe, and hear my lady's aunt prescribe, with formal smile and kind-how-gee, to fawn in all the family. And which of all the greatest curses, to endure the impertinence of nurses, among the many priests of Jove, hired to draw blessings from above? Some few were learned in eloquent, but thousands hot and ignorant, yet all past muster that could hide their sloth lust avarice and pride, for which they were as famed as tailors, for cabbage or for brandy sailors. Some meager-looked and meanly clad would mystically pray for bread, meaning by that an ample store, yet literally receive no more. And while these holy drudges starved, the lazy ones for which they served, indulged their ease with all the graces of health and plenty in their faces. The soldiers that were forced to fight, if they survive, got honored by it. Though some that shunned the bloody fray, had limbs shot off that ran away, some valiant generals fought the foe, others took bribes to let them go. Some ventured always where it was warm, now lost a leg and then an arm, till quite disabled, and put by, they lived on half their salarie, while others never came in play, and stayed at home for double-pay. Their kings were served, but navishly, cheated by their own ministry, many that for their welfare slaved, robbing the very crown they saved. Kings were small, and they lived high, yet boasted of their honesty. Calling whene'er they strained their right, the slippery trick of perquisite. And when folks understood their can't, they changed that for emolument, unwilling to be short or plain in anything concerning gain, for there was not a bee that would get more, I won't say, than he should, but then he dared to let them know, that paid for it as your game-sters do, that though, at fair play, nair will own, before the losers that they've won. But who can all their frauds repeat, the very stuff which in the street they sold for dirt to enrich the ground, was often by the buyers found sophisticated with a quarter of good-for-nothing stones and mortar, though flail had little cause to mutter, who sold the other salt for butter. This herself, famed for fair dealing, by blindness had not lost her feeling, her left hand, which the scales should hold, had often dropped em, bribed with gold, and though she seemed impartial, where punishment was corporal, and pretended to a regular course in murder and all crimes of force, though some first pilloried for cheating, were hanged in hemp of their own beating. Yet it was thought, the sword she bore, checked but the desperate and the poor, that urged by mere necessity, were tied up to the wretched tree, for crimes which not deserved that fate, but to secure the rich and great. Thus every part was full of vice, yet the whole mass of paradise, flattered in peace and feared in wars, they were the steamed of foreigners, and lavish of their wealth and lives the balance of all other hives. Such were the blessings of the state, their crimes conspired to make them great, and virtue, who from politics has learned a thousand cunning tricks, was, by their happy influence, made friends with vice, and ever since, the worst of all the multitude, did something for the common good. This was the state's craft that maintained, the whole of which each part complained. This, as in music harmony, made jarrings in the main agree. Parties directly opposite, assist each other as twerp or spite, and temperance with sobriety serve drunkenness and gluttony. The root of evil, avarice, that damned ill-natured baneful vice, was slave to prodigality, that noble sin whilst luxury employed a million of the poor, and odious pride a million more, envy itself and vanity were ministers of industry. Their darling folly fickleness in diet, furniture, and dress, that strange ridiculous vice was made, the very wheel that turned the trade, their laws and clothes were equally objects of mutability. For what was well done for a time, in half a year became a crime, yet while they altered thus their laws, still finding and correcting They mended by inconstancy, faults which no prudence could foresee. Thus vice nursed ingenuity, which joined the time and industry had carried life's conveniences, its real pleasures comforts ease, to such a height the very poor live better than the rich before, and nothing could be added more. How vain is mortal happiness, had they but known the bounds of bliss, and that perfection here below is more than gods can well bestow, the grumbling brutes had been content with ministers and government, but they at every ill success, like creatures lost without redress, cursed politicians, armies, fleets, while everyone cried, damn the cheats, and would, though conscious of his own, in others barbarously bare none. One that had got a princely store, by cheating master king and poor, dared cry aloud, the land must sink for all its fraud, and whom do you think, the sermonizing rascal chid, a glover that sold lamb for kid. The least thing was not done amiss, or crossed the public busyness, but all the rogues cried brazenly, Good gods, had we but honesty! Mercury smiled at them pudence, and others called it want of sense, always to rail at what they loved, but jove with indignation moved, at last an anger swore he'd rid, the bawling hive of fraud, and did. The very moment it departs, and honesty fills all their hearts, there shows them, like the instructive tree, those crimes which they're ashamed to see, which now in silence they confess, by blushing at their ugliness, like children that would hide their faults, and by their color own their thoughts, imagining where they're looked upon, that others see what they have done. But O ye gods, what consternation, how vast and sudden was the alteration, and half an hour of the naturen round, meet fell a penny in the pound, the mass hypocrisy sitting down from the great statesman to the clown, and in some borrowed looks well known, appeared like strangers in their own, the bar was silent from that day, for now the willing debtors pay, even what's by creditors forgot, who quitted them that had it not, those that were in the wrong stood mute, and dropped the patched vexatious suit, on which since nothing else can thrive, then lawyers in an honest hive, all except those that got enough, with incorns by their sides trooped off. Just as hangs some, set others free, and after jail delivery, her presence being no more required, with all her train and pomp retired, first march some smiths with locks and grates, fetters and doors with iron plates, next jailers turnkeys and assistants, before the goddess at some distance, her chief and faithful minister, squire catch, the law's great furnisher, bore not the imaginary sword, but his own tools and axe and cord, then on a cloud the hood-winged fair, justice herself was pushed by air, about her chariot and behind, where sergeants, bums of every kind, tip-staffs and all those officers, that squeeze a living out of tears, though physics lived, while folks were ill, none would prescribe, but bees of skill, which through the hive dispersed so wide, that none of them had need to ride, waved vain disputes and strove to free, the patience of their misery, left drugs in cheating countries grown, and used the product of their own, knowing the gods sent no disease to nations without remedies. Their clergy riles from laziness, laid not their charge on journey bees, but serve themselves, exempt from vice, the gods with prayer and sacrifice, all those that were unfit or new, their service might be spared, withdrew, nor was the business for so many, if the honest stand in need of any. The only with the high priest stayed, to whom the rest obedience paid, himself employed in holy cares, resigned to others' state affairs, he chased no starvelling from his door, nor pinched the wages of the poor, but at his house the hungries fed, the hiling finds unmeasured bread, the needy traveler bored in bed. Among the king's great ministers, and all the inferior officers, the change was great, for frugally they now lived on their salary, that a poor bee should ten times come to ask his due, a trifling sum, and buy some well-hired clerk be made to give a crown, or near be paid, would now be called a downright cheat, though formerly a perquisite. All places managed first by three, who watched each other's navery, and often for a fellow feeling promoted one another's stealing, are happily supplied by one by which some thousands more are gone. No honor now could be content, to live and owe for what was spent, liveries and brokers shops are hung, they part with coaches for a song, sell stately horses by whole sets, and country houses to pay debts, vain cost is shunned as much as fraud, they have no forces kept abroad, laugh at the steam of foreigners, an empty glory got by wars, they fought but for their country's sake, when right or liberties at stake. Now mind the glorious hive, and see how honesty and trade agree, the show is gone, it thins a pace, and looks with quite another face, for it was not only that they went, by whom vassums were yearly spent, but multitudes that lived on them were daily forced to do the same, in vain to other trades they'd flee, and were ore-stocked accordingly. The price of land and houses falls, miraculous palaces whose walls, like those of thieves, were raised by play, are to be let, while thee once gay, well-seeded household gods would be, more pleased to expire in flames than see, the mean inscription on the door, smile at the lofty ones they bore, the building trade is quite destroyed, artificers are not employed, no limner for his art is famed, stone-cutters, carvers are not named, those that remain grown temperate, strived, not how to spend, but how to live, and when they paid their tavern score, resolved to enter it no more. No vinteners' jilt and all the hive could wear now cloth of gold and thrive, no torquil such vassums advance for burgundy and orta-lands. The courtier's gone that with his meese subbed at his house on Christmas peas, spending as much in two hours' stay as keeps a troop of horse a day. The haughty Chloe to live great had made her husband rob the state, but now she sells her furniture, which the indies had been ransacked for, contracts the expensive bill of fare, and wears her strong suit a whole year. The slight and fickle ages past, and clothes as well as fashions last. Weavers that joined rich silk with plate, and all the trade subordinate are gone, still peace and plenty reign, and everything is cheap, though plain. Kind nature freed from Gardner's force allows all fruits in her own course, but rarities cannot be hailed, where pains to get them are not paid. As pride and luxury decrease, so by decree they leave the seas. Not merchants now, but companies, remove whole manufactories. All arts and crafts neglected lie. Content, the bane of industry, makes them admire their homely store, and neither seek nor covet more. So few in the vast hive remain, the hundredth part they can't maintain, against the insults of numerous foes, whom yet they valiantly oppose, till some well-fenced retreat is found, and here they die or stand their ground. No hireling in their armies known, but bravely fighting for their own, their courage and integrity, at last were crowned with victory. They triumphed not without their cost, for many thousand bees were lost. Hardened with toils and exercise, they counted ease itself a vice, which so improved their temperance, that to avoid extravagance they flew into a hollow tree, blessed with content and honesty. The moral. Then leave complaints, fools only strive, to make a great and honest hive. To enjoy the world's conveniences, be famed in war, yet live in ease. Without great vices is a vain utopia seated in the brain. Fraud, luxury, and pride must leave, while we the benefits receive. Hunger is a dreadful plague, no doubt. Yet who digests or thrives without? Do we not owe the growth of wine, to the dry, shabby, crooked vine, which while its shoots neglected stood, choked other plants, and ran to wood, but blessed us with its noble fruit, as soon as it was tied and cut. So vice is beneficial found, when it's by justice lopped and bound, nay where the people would be great, as necessary to the state, as hunger is to make them it. Their virtue can't make nations live in splendor, they that would revive a golden age must be as free, for acorns as for honesty. End of section one. Section two of The Fable of the Bees by Bernard Mandeville. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Introduction. One of the greatest reasons why so few people understand themselves is that most writers are always teaching men what they should be, and hardly ever trouble their heads with telling them what they really are. As for my part, without any compliment to the courteous reader or myself, I believe man, besides skin, flesh, bones, etc., that are obvious to the eye, to be a compound of various passions, that all of them, as they are provoked and come uppermost, govern him by turns, whether he will or no. To show that these qualifications, which we all pretend to be ashamed of, or the great support of a flourishing society, has been the subject of the foregoing poem. But there being some passages in it, seemingly paradoxical, I have in the preface promised some explanatory remarks on it, which, to render more useful, I have thought fit to inquire how man, no better qualified, might yet by his own imperfections be taught to distinguish between virtue and vice. And here I must desire the reader once for all to take notice that when I say men, I mean neither Jews nor Christians, but mere man, in the state of nature and ignorance of the true deity. End of section two. Section three of The Fable of the Bees by Bernard Mandeville. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. An inquiry into the origin of moral virtue. All untaught animals are only solicitous of pleasing themselves, and naturally follow the bent of their own inclinations, without considering the good or harm that, from there being pleased, will accrue to others. This is the reason that, in the wild state of nature, those creatures are fit as to live peaceably together in great numbers that discover the least of understanding, and have the fewest appetites to gratify, and consequently no species of animals is, without the curb of government, less capable of agreeing long together in multitudes than that of man. Yet such are his qualities, whether good or bad, I shall not determine, that no creature besides himself can ever be made sociable. But being an extraordinary selfish and headstrong, as well as cunning animal, however he may be subdued by superior strength, it is impossible by force alone to make him tractable, and receive the improvements he is capable of. The chief thing, therefore, which lawgivers and otherwise men that have labored for the establishment of society have endeavored, has been to make the people they were to govern believe that it was more beneficial for everybody to conquer than indulge his appetites, and much better to mine the public than what seemed his private interest, as this has always been a very difficult task, so no wit or eloquence has been left untried to compass it, and the moralists and philosophers of all ages employed their utmost skill to prove the truth of so useful an assertion. But whether mankind would have ever believed it or not, it is not likely that anybody could have persuaded them to disapprove of their natural inclinations or prefer the good of others to their own, if, at the same time, he had not showed them an equivalent to be enjoyed as a reward for the violence, which, by so doing, they of necessity must commit upon themselves. Those that have undertaken to civilize mankind were not ignorant of this, but being unable to give so many real rewards as would satisfy all persons for every individual action, they were forced to contrive an imaginary one, that, as a general equivalent for the trouble of self-denial, should serve on all occasions, and without costing anything either to themselves or others, be yet a most acceptable recompense to the receivers. They thoroughly examined all the strength and frailties of our nature, and observing that none were either so savage as not to be charmed with praise, or so despicable as patiently to bear contempt, justly concluded that flattery must be the most powerful argument that could be used to human creatures. Making use of this bewitching engine, they extolled the excellency of our nature above other animals, and setting forth with unbounded praises the wonders of our sagacity and vastness of understanding bestowed a thousand incomiums on the rationality of our souls, by the help of which we were capable of performing the most noble achievements. Having, by this artful way of flattery, insinuated themselves into the hearts of men, they began to instruct them in the notions of honor and shame, representing the one as the worst of all evils, and the other as the highest good to which mortals could aspire. Which being done, they laid before them how unbecoming it was the dignity of such sublime creatures to be solicitous about gratifying those appetites, which they had in common with brutes, and at the same time unmindful of those higher qualities that gave them the preeminence over all visible beings. They indeed confessed that those impulses of nature were very pressing, that it was troublesome to resist, and very difficult wholly to subdue them. But this they only used as an argument to demonstrate how glorious the conquest of them was on the one hand, and how scandalous on the other not to attempt it. To introduce moreover an emulation amongst men, they divided the whole species into two classes, vastly differing from one another. The one consisted of abject, low-minded people, that always hunting after immediate enjoyment were wholly incapable of self-denial, and without regard to the good of others, had no higher aim than their private advantage, such as being enslaved by voluptuousness, yielded without resistance to every gross desire, and made no use of their rational faculties but to heighten their sensual pleasure. These wild, groveling wretches they said were the dross of their kind, and having only the shape of men differed from brutes in nothing but their outward figure. But the other class was made up of lofty, high-spirited creatures that, free from sordid selfishness, esteem the improvements of the mind to be their fairest possessions, and setting a true value upon themselves, took no delight but embellishing that part in which their excellency consisted, such as despising whatever they had in common with irrational creatures, opposed by the help of reason their most violent inclinations, and making a continual war with themselves to promote the peace of others, aimed at no less than the public welfare and the conquest of their own passion. These they called the true representatives of their sublime species, exceeding in worth the first class by more degrees than that itself was superior to the beasts of the field. As in all animals that are not too imperfect to discover pride, we find that the finest, and such as are the most beautiful and valuable of their kind, have generally the greatest share of it. So in man, the most perfect of animals, it is so inseparable from his very essence, how cunningly so ever some may learn to hide or disguise it, that without it the compound he is made of would want one of the chiefest ingredients, which, if we consider, it is hardly to be doubted, but lessons and remonstrances, so skillfully adapted to the good opinion man has of himself, as those I have mentioned, must, if scattered amongst a multitude, not only gain the assent of most of them, as to the speculative part, but likewise induce several, especially the fiercest, most resolute, and best among them, to endure a thousand inconveniences and undergo as many hardships, that they may have the pleasure of counting themselves men of the second class, and consequently appropriating to themselves all the excellencies they have heard of it. From what has been said, we ought to expect, in the first place, that the heroes who took such extraordinary pains to master some of their natural appetites and preferred the good of others to any visible interest of their own would not recede an inch from the fine notions they had received concerning the dignity of rational creatures, and having ever the authority of the government on their side, with all imaginable vigour assert the esteem that was due to those of the second class, as well as their superiority over the rest of their kind, in the second, that those who wanted a sufficient stock of either pride or resolution to buoy them up in mortifying of what was dearest to them, followed the sensual dictates of nature, would yet be ashamed of confessing themselves to be those despicable wretches that belong to the inferior class, and were generally reckoned to be so little removed from brutes, and therefore in their own defense they would say, as others did, and hiding their own imperfections as well as they could, cry up self-denial and public spiritedness as much as any, for it is highly probable that some of them, convinced by the real proofs of fortitude and self-conquest they had seen, would admire in others what they found wanting in themselves, others be afraid of the resolution and prowess of those in the second class, and that all of them were kept in awe by the power of their rulers, wherefore it is reasonable to think that none of them, whatever they thought in themselves, would dare openly contradict what by everybody else was thought criminal to doubt of. This was, or at least might have been, the manner after which savage man was broke. From whence it is evident that the first rudiments of morality broached by skillful politicians to render men useful to each other, as well as tractable, were chiefly contrived that the ambitious might reap the more benefit from and govern vast numbers of them with the greater ease and security. This foundation of politics being once laid, it is impossible that man should long remain uncivilized, for even those who only strove to gratify their appetites, being continually crossed by others of the same stamp, could not but observe that whenever they checked their inclinations or but followed them with more circumspection, they avoided a world of troubles and often escaped to many of the calamities that generally attended the too eager pursuit after pleasure. First, they received, as well as others, the benefit of those actions that were done for the good of the whole society, and consequently could not forebear wishing well to those of the superior class that performed them. Secondly, the more intent they were in seeking their own advantage without regard to others, the more they were hourly convinced that none stood so much in their way as those that were most like themselves. It being the interest then of the very worst of them, more than any, to preach up public spiritedness, that they might reap the fruits of the labor and self-denial of others, and at the same time indulge their own appetites with less disturbance, they agreed with the rest to call everything which, without regard to the public, man should commit to gratify any of his appetites vice. If in that action there could be observed the least prospect that it might either be injurious to any of the society or ever render himself less serviceable to others, and to give the name of virtue to every performance by which man, contrary to the impulse of nature, should endeavor the benefit of others or the conquest of his own passions out of a rational ambition of being good. It shall be objected that no society was ever in any way civilized before the major part had agreed upon some worship or other of an overruling power, and consequently that the notions of good and evil and the distinction between virtue and vice were never the contrivance of politicians, but the pure effect of religion. Before I answer this objection, I must repeat what I have said already that in this inquiry into the origin of moral virtue I speak neither of Jews nor Christians, but man in his state of nature and ignorance of the true deity. And then I affirm that the idolatrous superstitions of all other nations and the pitiful notions they had of the supreme being were incapable of exciting man to virtue and good for nothing, but to awe and amuse a rude and unthinking multitude. It is evident from history that in all considerable societies how stupid or ridiculous so ever peoples receive notions have been as to the deities they worshiped. Human nature has ever exerted itself in all its branches and that there is no earthly wisdom or moral virtue, but at one time or other men have excelled in it in all monarchies and commonwealths that for riches and power have been anyways remarkable. The Egyptians, not satisfied with having deified all ugly monsters they could think on, were so silly as to adore the onions of their own sowing. Yet at the same time their country was the most famous nursery of arts and sciences in the world and themselves more eminently skilled in the deepest mysteries of nature than any nation has been since. No states or kingdoms under heaven have yielded more or greater patterns in all sorts of moral virtues than the Greek and Roman empires, more especially the latter, and yet how loose, absurd, and ridiculous were their sentiments as to sacred matters. For without reflecting on the extravagant number of their deities, if we only consider the infamous stories they fathered upon them, it is not to be denied but that their religion, far from teaching men the conquest of their passions and the weight of virtue, seemed rather contrived to justify their appetites and encourage their vices. But if we would know what made them excel in fortitude, courage, and magnanimity, we must cast our eyes on the pomp of their triumphs, the magnificence of their monuments and arches, their trophies, statues, and inscriptions, the variety of their military crowns, their honors decreed to the dead, public encomiums on the living, and other imaginary rewards they bestowed on men of merit, and we shall find that what carried so many of them to the utmost pitch of self-denial was nothing but their policy and making use of the most effectual means that human pride could be flattered with. It is visible, then, that it was not an heathen religion or other idolatrous superstition that first put man upon crossing his appetites and subduing his dearest inclinations, but the skillful management of wary politicians, and the nearer we search into human nature, the more we shall be convinced that the moral virtues are the political offspring which flattery begot upon pride. There is no man of what capacity or penetration so ever that is wholly proof against the witchcraft of flattery if artfully performed and suited to his abilities. Children and fools will swallow personal praise, but those that are more cunning must be managed with much greater circumspection, and the more general the flattery is, the less it is suspected by those it is leveled at. What you say in commendation of a whole town is recede with pleasure by all the inhabitants, speak in commendation of letters in general, and every man of learning will think himself in particular obliged to you. You may safely praise the employment a man is of, or the country he was born in, because you give him an opportunity of screening the joy he feels upon his own account under the esteem which he pretends to have for others. It is common among cunning men that understand the power which flattery has upon pride, when they are afraid they shall be imposed upon, to enlarge, though much against their conscience, upon the honor, fair dealing, and integrity of the family, country, or sometimes the profession of him they suspect, because they know that men often will change their resolution, and act against their inclination, that they may have the pleasure of continuing to appear in the opinion of some, what they are conscious not to be in reality. Thus sagacious, more or less draw men like angels, in hopes that the pride of at least some will put them upon copying after the beautiful originals which they are represented to be. When the incomparable Sir Richard Steele, in the usual elegance of his easy style, dwells on the praises of his sublime species, and with all the embellishments of rhetoric sets forth the excellency of human nature, it is impossible not to be charmed with his happy turns of thought and the politeness of his expressions. But though I have been often moved by the force of his eloquence, and ready to swallow the ingenious sophistry with pleasure, yet I could never be so serious, but reflecting on his artful encomiums, I thought on the tricks made use of by the women that would teach children to be mannerly. When an awkward girl before she can either speak or go, begins after many entreaties to make the first rude essays of curtsying. The nurse falls in an ecstasy of praise. There is a delicate curtsy. Oh, find Miss. There is a pretty lady. Mama, Miss can make better curtsy than her sister Molly. The same is echoed over by the maids, whilst Mama almost hugs the child to pieces. Only Miss Molly, who being four years older, knows how to make a very handsome curtsy, wonders at the perverseness of their judgment, and swelling with indignation is ready to cry at the injustice that is done to her, till being whispered in the ear that it is only to please the baby, and that she is a woman. She grows proud at being let into the secret, and rejoicing at the superiority of her understanding repeats what has been said with large additions, and insults over the weakness of her sister, whom all this while she fancies to be the only bubble among them. These extravagant praises would by anyone above the capacity of an infant be called fulsome flatteries, and, if you will, abominable lies. Yet experience teaches us that by the help of such gross encomiums young misses will be brought to make pretty curtsies, and behave themselves womanly much sooner, and with less trouble than they would without them. It is the same with boys, whom they will strive to persuade, that all fine gentlemen do as they are bid, and that none but beggar boys are rude, or dirty their clothes. Nay, as soon as the wild brat with his untaught fist begins to fumble for his hat, the mother, to make him pull it off, tells him before he is two years old that he is a man, and if he repeats that action when she desires him, he is presently a captain, a lord mayor, a king, or something higher if she can think of it. Till edged on by the force of praise, the little urchin endeavors to imitate man as well as he can, and strains all his faculties to appear what his shallow noodle imagines he is believed to be. The meanest wretch puts an inestimal value upon himself, and the highest wish of the ambitious man is to have all the world, as to that particular, of his opinion, so that the most insatiable thirst after fame that ever hero was inspired with was never more than an ungovernable greediness to engross the esteem and admiration of others in future ages as well as his own. And what mortification, so ever this truth might be to the second thoughts of an Alexander or a Caesar, the great recompense and view for which the most exalted minds have with so much alacrity sacrificed their quiet health, sensual pleasures, and every inch of themselves has never been anything else but the breath of man, the aerial coin of praise. Who can forbear laughing when he thinks on all the great men that have been so serious on the subject of that Macedonian madman, his capacious soul, that mighty heart in one corner of which, according to Lorenzo Grattian, the world was so commodiously lodged that in the whole there was room for six more. Who can forbear laughing, I say, when he compares the fine things that have been said of Alexander with the end he proposed to himself from his vast exploits to be proved from his own mouth? When the vast pains he took to pass the Hadespies forced him to cry out, O ye Athenians, could you believe what dangers I expose myself to? To be praised by you, to define then the reward of glory in the amplest manner, the most that can be said of it, is that it consists in a superlative felicity which a man who is conscious of having performed a noble action enjoys in self-love, whilst he is thinking on the applause he expects of others. But here I shall be told that besides the noisy toils of war and public bustle of the ambitious, there are noble and generous actions that are performed in silence, that virtue being its own reward, those who are really good, have a satisfaction in their consciousness of being so, which is all the recompense they expect from the most worthy performances, that among the heathens there have been men who, when they did good to others, were so far from coveting thanks and applause that they took all imaginable care to be forever concealed from those on whom they bestowed their benefits, and consequently that pride has no hand in spurring man on to the highest pitch of self-denial. To answer this, I say, that it is impossible to judge a man's performance unless we are thoroughly acquainted with the principle and motive from which he acts. Pity, though it is the most gentle and the least mischievous of all our passions, is yet as much a frailty of our nature as anger, pride, or fear, the weakest minds have generally the greatest share of it, for which reason none are more compassionate than women and children. It must be owned that for all our weaknesses it is the most amiable and bears the greatest resemblance to virtue. Nay, without a considerable mixture of it, the society could hardly subsist, but as it is an impulse of nature that consults neither the public interest nor our own reason, it may produce evil as well as good. It has helped to destroy the honour of virgins and corrupted the integrity of judges, and whoever acts from it as a principle, what good soever he may bring to the society has nothing to boast of, but that he has indulged a passion that has happened to be beneficial to the public. There is no merit in saving an innocent babe ready to drop into the fire. The action is neither good nor bad, and what benefits soever the infant received we only obliged ourselves, for to have seen it fall and not strove to hinder it would have caused a pain, which self-preservation compelled us to prevent. Nor has a rich prodigal that happens to be of a commiserating temper and loves to gratify his passions, greater virtue to boast of, when he relieves an object of compassion with what to himself is a trifle. But such men, as without complying with any weakness of their own, can part from what they value themselves and from no other motive but their love to goodness, perform a worthy action in silence. Such men, I confess, have acquired more refined notions of virtue than those I have hitherto spoken of, yet even in these, with which the world has never yet swarmed, we may discover no small symptoms of pride, and the humblest man alive must confess that the reward of a virtuous action, which is the satisfaction that ensues upon it, consists in a certain pleasure he procures to himself by contemplating his own worth, which pleasure, together with the occasion of it, are as certain signs of pride, as looking pale and trembling at any imminent danger, are the symptoms of fear. If the two scrupulous readers should at first view condemn these notions concerning the origin of moral virtue and think them perhaps offensive to Christianity, I hope he will forbear his censures, when he shall consider that nothing can render the insurchable depth of the divine wisdom more conspicuous than that man whom providence had designated for society should not only by his own frailties and imperfections be led into the road to temporal happiness, but likewise receive, from a seeming necessity of natural causes, a tincture of that knowledge, in which he was afterwards to be made perfect by the true religion to his eternal welfare. End of Section 3 Section 4 of The Fable of the Bees by Bernard Mandeville This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Remarks Line 45 Whilst others followed mysteries to which few folks bind parentheses. In the education of youth, in order to their getting of a livelihood when they shall be arrived at maturity, most people look out for some warrantable employment or other of which there are whole bodies or companies in every large society of men. By this means, all arts and sciences, as well as trades and handicrafts, are perpetuated in the Commonwealth, as long as they are found useful, the young ones that are daily brought up to them, continually supplying the loss of the old ones that die. But some of these employments being vastly more creditable than others, according to the great difference of the charges required to set up in each of them, all prudent parents, in the choice of them, chiefly consult their own abilities, and the circumstances they are in. A man that gives three or four hundred pounds with his son to a great merchant, and has not two or three thousand pounds to spare against he is out of his time to begin business with, is much to blame not to have brought his child up to something that might be followed with less money. There are abundance of men of a genteel education that have but very small revenues, and yet are forced by their reputable callings to make a greater figure than ordinary people of twice their income. If these have any children, it often happens, that as their indigence renders them incapable of bringing them up to creditable occupations, so their pride makes them unwilling to put them out to any of the mean laborious trades. And then, in hopes either of an alteration in their fortune or that some friends or favorable opportunity shall offer, they from time to time put off the disposing of them, until insensibly they come to be of age, and are at last brought up to nothing. Whether this neglect be more barbarous to the children or prejudicial to the society, I shall not determine. At Athens all children were forced to assist their parents if they came to want, but Solon made a law that no son should be obliged to relieve his father who had not bred him up to any calling. Some parents put out their sons to good trades very suitable to their then present abilities, but happened to die or fail in the world before their children have finished their apprenticeships or are made fit for the business they are to follow. A great many young men again on the other hand are handsomely provided for and set up for themselves that yet some for want of industry or else a sufficient knowledge in their callings, others by indulging their pleasures and some few by misfortunes are reduced to poverty and altogether unable to maintain themselves by the business they were brought up to. It is impossible but that the neglects, mismanagements and misfortunes I named must very frequently happen in populous places and consequently great numbers of people be daily flung unprovided for into the wide world how rich and potent a commonwealth may be or what care so ever a government may take to hinder it. How must these people be disposed of? The sea I know and armies which the world is seldom without will take off some. Those that are honest judges and of a laborious temper will become journeymen to the trades thereof or enter into some other service. Such of them as studied and were sent to the university may become school masters, tutors, and some few of them get into some office or other. But what must become of the lazy that care for no manner of working and the fickle that hate to be confined to anything? Those that ever took delight in plays and romances and have a spice of gentility, will, and all probability throw their eyes upon the stage and if they have a good elocution with tolerable mean turn actors. Some that love their bellies above anything else if they have a good palette and a little knack at cookery will strive to get in with gluttons and epicures, learn to cringe and bear all manner of uses and so turn parasites ever flattering the master and making mischief among the rest of the family. Others who by their own companion's lewdness, judge of people's incontinence, will naturally fall to intriguing and endeavor to live by pimping for such as either want leisure or address to speak for themselves. Those are the most abandoned principles of all if their sly and dextrous turn sharpers, pickpockets or coiners if their skill and ingenuity give them leave. Others again that have observed the credulity of simple women and other foolish people if they have impudence and a little cunning either set up for doctors or else pretend to tell fortunes and everyone turning the vices and frailties of others to his own advantage endeavors to pick up a living the easiest and shortest way his talents and abilities will let him. These are certainly the bane of civil society but they are fools who, not considering what has been said, storm at the remissness of the laws that suffer them to live while wise men content themselves with taking all imaginable care not to be circumvented by them without quarreling at what no human prudence can prevent. End of section four Section five of The Fable of the Bees by Bernard Mandeville This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Line 55 These we called naves but bar the name the grave industrious were the same This I confess is but a very indifferent compliment to all the trading part of the people but if the word nave may be understood in its full latitude and comprehended everybody that is not sincerely honest and does to others what he would dislike to have done to himself I do not question but I shall make good the charge To pass by the innumerable artifices by which buyers and sellers outwit one another that are daily allowed of and practice among the fairest of dealers Show me the tradesmen that has always discovered the defects of his goods to those that cheapen them Nay, where will you find one that has not at one time or other industriously concealed them to the detriment of the buyer Where is the merchant that has never against his conscience extolled his wares beyond their worth to make them go off the better Desio, a man of great figure that had large commissions for sugar from several parts beyond the sea treats about a considerable parcel of that commodity with Alcander an eminent West India merchant both understood the market very well but could not agree Desio was a man of substance and thought nobody ought to buy cheaper than himself Alcander was the same and not wanting money stood for his price While they were driving their bargain at a tavern near the exchange Alcander's man brought his master a letter from the West Indies that informed him of a much greater quantity of sugars coming for England than was expected Alcander now wished for nothing more than to sell at Desio's price before the news was public but being a cunning fox that he might not seem too precipitant nor yet lose his customer he drops the discourse they were upon and putting on a jovial humor commends the agreeableness of the weather from whence falling upon the delight he took in his gardens invites Desio to go along with him to his country house that was not above 12 miles from London it was the month of May and as it happened upon a Saturday in the afternoon Desio who was a single man and would have no business in town before Tuesday accepts of the other civility and away they go and Alcander's coach Desio was splendidly entertained that night in the day following the Monday morning to get himself an appetite he goes to take the air upon a pad of Alcander's and coming back meets with a gentleman of his acquaintance who tells him news was come the night before that the Barbados fleet was destroyed by a storm and adds that before he came out it had been confirmed at Lloyd's coffee house where it was thought sugars would rise 25% by change time Desio returns to his friend and immediately resumes a discourse they had broke off at the tavern Alcander who thinking himself sure of his chap did not design to have moved it till after dinner was very glad to see himself so happily prevented but how desirous so ever he was to sell the other was yet more eager to buy yet both of them afraid of one another for a considerable time counterfitted all the indifference imaginable until at last Desio fired with what he had heard thought delays might prove dangerous and throwing a guinea upon the table struck the bargain at Alcander's price the next day they went to London the news proved true and Desio got 500 pounds by his sugars Alcander whilst he had strove to overeach the other was paid in his own coin yet all this is called fair dealing but I am sure neither of them would have desired to be done by as they did to each other End of section five section six of The Fable of the Bees by Bernard Mandeville this Libervox recording is in the public domain Line 101 the soldiers that were forced to fight if they survived got honor by it so unaccountable is the desire to be thought well of in men but though they are dragged into the war against their will and some of them for their crimes and are compelled to fight with threats and often blows yet they would be esteemed for what they would have avoided if it had been in their power whereas if reason and man was of equal weight with his pride he could never be pleased with praises which he is conscious he does not deserve by honor in its proper and genuine signification we mean nothing else but the good opinion of others which is counted more or less substantial the more or less noise or bustle there is made about the demonstration of it and when we say the sovereign is the fountain of honor it signifies that he has the power by titles or ceremonies or both together to stamp a mark upon whom he pleases that shall be as current as his coin and procure the owner the good opinion of everybody whether he deserves it or not the reverse of honor is dishonor or ignominy which consists in the bad opinion and contempt of others and as the first is counted or awarded for good actions so this is esteemed a punishment for bad ones and the more or less public or heinous the matter is in which this contempt of others is shown the more or less the person so suffering is degraded by it this ignominy is likewise called shame from the effect it produces for though the good and evil of honor and dishonor are imaginary yet there is a reality in shame as it signifies a passion that has its proper symptoms overrules our reason and requires as much labor and self-denial to be subdued as any of the rest and since the most important actions of life often are regulated according to the influence this passion has upon us a thorough understanding of it must help to illustrate the notions the world has of honor and ignominy I shall therefore describe it at large first to define the passion of shame I think it may be called a sorrowful reflection on our own unworthiness proceeding from an apprehension that others either do or might if they knew all deservedly despise us the only objection of weight that can be raised against this definition is that innocent virgins are often ashamed and blush when they are guilty of no crime and can give no manner of reason for this frailty and that manner often ashamed for others for or with whom they have neither friendship or affinity and consequently that there may be a thousand instances of shame given to which the words of the definition are not applicable to answer this I would have at first considered that the modesty of women is the result of custom and education by which all unfashionable denudations and filthy expressions are rendered frightful and abominable to them and notwithstanding this the most virtuous young woman alive will often, in spite of her teeth have thoughts and confused ideas of things arise in her imagination which she would not reveal to some people for a thousand worlds then I say that when obscene words are spoken in the presence of an unexperienced virgin she is afraid that somebody will reckon her to understand what they mean and consequently that she understands this and that and several things which she desires to be thought ignorant of the reflecting on this and that thoughts are forming to her disadvantage brings upon her that passion which we call shame and whatever can sting her though never so remote from lewdness upon that set of thoughts I hinted and which she thinks criminal will have the same effect especially before men as long as her modesty lasts to try the truth of this let them talk as much body as they please in the room next to the same virtuous young woman where she is sure that she is undiscovered and she will hear if not hearken to it without blushing at all because then she looks upon herself as no party concerned and if the discourse should stay in her cheeks with red whatever her innocence may imagine it is certain that what occasions her color is a passion not half so mortifying as that of shame but if in the same place she hears something set of herself that must tend to her disgrace or anything is named of which she is secretly guilty then it is tend to one but she will be ashamed and blush though nobody sees her because she has room to fear that she is or if all was known should be thought of contemptibly that we are often ashamed and blush for others which was the second part of the objection is nothing else but that sometimes we make the case of others too nearly to our own so people shriek out when they see others in danger whilst we are reflecting with too much earnest on the effect which such a blameable action if it was ours would produce in us the spirits and consequently the blood are insensibly moved after the same manner as if the action was our own and so the same symptoms must appear the shame that raw ignorant and ill-bred people though seemingly without a cause discovered before their betters is always accompanied with and perceived from a consciousness of their weakness and inabilities and the most modest man how virtuous, snowing and accomplished so ever he might be was never yet ashamed without some guilt or diffidence such as out of rusticity and want of education are unreasonably subject to and at every turn overcome by this passion we call bashful and those who out of disrespect to others and a false opinion of their own sufficiency have learned not to be affected with it when they should be are called impudent or shameless what strange contradictions man is made of the reverse of shame is pride see remark on line 182 yet nobody can be touched with the first that never felt anything of the latter for that we have such an extraordinary concern in what others think of us can proceed from nothing but the vast esteem we have of ourselves that these two passions in which the seeds of most virtues are contained are realities in our frame and not imaginary qualities is demonstrable from the plain and different effects that in spite of our reason are produced in us as soon as we are affected with either when a man is overwhelmed with shame he observes a sinking of the spirits the heart feels cold and condensed and the blood flies from it to the circumference of the body the face glows the neck and part of the breast partake of the fire he is heavy as lead the head is hung down and the eyes through a mist of confusion are fixed on the ground no injuries can move him he is weary of his being and heartily wishes he could make himself invisible but when gratifying his vanity he exalts in his pride he discovers quite contrary symptoms his spirits swell and fan the arterial blood a more than ordinary warmth strengthens and dilates the heart the extremities are cool he feels light to himself and imagines he could tread on air his head is held up his eyes rolled about with sprightliness he rejoices at his being is prone to anger and would be glad that all the world could take notice of him it is incredible how necessary an ingredient shame is to make a sociable it is a frailty in our nature all the world whenever it affects them submit to it with regret and would prevent it if they could yet the happiness of conversation depends upon it and no society could be polished if the generality of mankind were not subject to it as therefore the sense of shame is troublesome and all creatures are ever laboring for their own defense it is probable that man striving to avoid this uneasiness would in a great measure conquer his shame by that he was grown up but this would be detrimental to the society and therefore from his infancy throughout his education we endeavor to increase instead of lessening or destroying the sense of shame and the only remedy prescribed is a strict observance of certain rules to avoid those things that might bring this troublesome sense of shame upon him but as to rid or cure him of it the politician would sooner take away his life the rules I speak of consist in a dexterous management of ourselves a stifling of our appetites and hiding the real sentiments of our hearts before others those who are not instructed in these rules long before they come to years of maturity seldom make any progress in them afterwards to acquire and bring to perfection the accomplishment I hint at nothing is more assisting than pride and good sense the greediness we have after the esteem of others and the raptures we enjoy and the thoughts of being liked and perhaps admired are equivalents that overpay the conquest of the strongest passions and consequently keep us at a great distance from all such words or actions that can bring shame upon us the passions we chiefly ought to hide for the happiness and embellishment of the society are lust, pride, and selfishness therefore the word modesty has three different acceptations that vary with the passions it conceals as to the first I mean the branch of modesty that has a general pretension to chastity for its object it consists in a sincere and painful endeavor with all our faculties to stifle and conceal before others that inclination which nature has given us to propagate our species the lessons of it like those of grammar are taught us long before we have occasion for or understand the usefulness of them for this reason children often are ashamed and blush out of modesty before the impulse of nature I hint at makes any impression upon them a girl who is modestly educated may before she is two years old begin to observe how careful the women she converses with are of covering themselves before men and the same caution being inculcated to her by precept as well as example it is very probable that at six she will be ashamed of showing her leg without knowing any reason why such an act is blamable or what the tendency of it is to be modest we ought in the first place to avoid all unfashionable denudations a woman is not to be found fault with for going with her neck bear if the custom of the country allows of it and when the mode orders the stays to be cut very low a blooming virgin may without fear of rational center show all the world how firm her pouting breasts that widest snow on the ample chests that mighty distance grow but to suffer her ankle to be seen where it is the fashion for women to hide their very feet is a breach of modesty and she is impudent who shows half her face in a country where decency bids her to be veiled in the second our language must be chased and not only free but remote from obscenities that is whatever belongs to the multiplication of our species is not to be spoke of and the least word or expression that though at a great distance has any relation to that performance ought never to come from our lips thirdly all postures and motions that can anyways solely the imagination that is put us in mind of what I have called obscenities are to be for bore with great caution a young woman moreover that would be thought well bred ought to be circumspect before men in all her behavior and never known to receive from much less to bestow favors upon them unless the great age of the man near consanguinity or a vast superiority on either side plead her excuse a young lady of refined education keeps a strict guard over her looks as well as actions and in her eyes we may read a consciousness that she has a treasure about her not out of danger of being lost and which yet she is resolved not to part with at any terms thousand satires have been made against prudes and as many encomiums to extol the careless graces and negligent air of virtuous beauty but the wiser sort of mankind are well assured that the free and open countenance of the smiling fair is more inviting and yields greater hopes to the seducer than the ever watchful look of a forbidding eye this strict reservedness is to be complied with by all young women especially virgins if they value the esteem of the polite and knowing world men may take greater liberty because in them the appetite is more violent and ungovernable had equal harshness of discipline been imposed on both neither of them could have made the first advances and propagation must have stood still among all fashionable people which being far from the politicians aim it was advisable to ease and indulge the sex that suffered most by the severity and make the rules abate of their rigor where the passion was the strongest and the burden of a strict restraint would have been the most intolerable for this reason the man is allowed openly to profess the veneration and greatest steam he has for women and show greater satisfaction more mirth and gaiety in their company than he is used to do out of it he may not only be complacent and serviceable to them on all occasions but it is reckoned his duty to protect and defend them he may praise the good qualities they are possessed of and extol their merit with as many exaggerations as his invention will let him and are consistent with good sense he may talk of love he may sigh and complain of the rigors of the fair and what his tongue must not utter he has the privilege to speak with his eyes and in that language to say what he pleases so it be done with decency and short abrupted glances but too closely to pursue a woman and fasten upon her with one's eyes is counted very unmanorly the reason is plain it makes her uneasy and if she be not sufficiently fortified by art and dissimulation often throws her into visible disorders as the eyes are the windows of the soul so this staring impudence flings a raw unexperienced woman into panic fears that she may be seen through and that the man will discover or has already betrayed what passes within her it keeps her on a perpetual rack that commands her to reveal her secret wishes and seems designed to extort from her the grand truth which modesty bids her with all her faculties to deny the multitude will hardly believe the excessive force of education and in the difference of modesty between men and women ascribe that to nature which is altogether owing to early instruction miss is scarce three years old but she is spoke to every day to hide her leg and rebuked and good earnest if she shows it while the little master at the same age is bid to take up his coats and piss like a man it is shame and education that contains the seeds of all politeness and he that has neither and offers to speak the truth of his heart and what he feels within is the most contemptible creature upon earth though he committed no other fault if a man should tell a woman that he could like nobody so well to propagate his species upon as herself and that he found a violent desire that moment to go about it and accordingly offered to lay hold of her for that purpose the consequence would be that he would be called a brute the woman would run away and himself be never admitted in any civil company there is nobody that has any sense of shame but would conquer the strongest passion rather than be so served but a man need not conquer his passions it is sufficient that he conceals them virtue bids us subdue but good breeding only requires we should hide our appetites a fashionable gentleman may have as violent an inclination to a woman as the brutish fellow but then he behaves himself quite otherwise he first addresses the lady's father and demonstrates his ability splendidly to maintain his daughter upon this he is admitted into a company where by flattery submission presence and assiduity he endeavors to procure her liking to his person which if he can compass the lady in a little while resigns herself to him before witnesses in a most solemn manner at night they go to bed together where the most reserved virgin very tamely suffers him to do what he pleases and the upshot is that he obtains what he wanted without ever having asked for it the next day they receive visits and nobody laughs at them or speaks a word of what they have been doing as the young couple themselves they take no more notice of one another I speak of well-bred people than they did the day before they eat and drink divert themselves as usually and having done nothing to be ashamed of are looked upon as what in reality they may be the most modest people upon earth what I mean by this is to demonstrate that by being well-bred we suffer no abridgment in our sensual pleasures but only labor for our mutual happiness and assist each other in the luxurious enjoyment of all worldly comforts the fine gentleman I spoke of need not practice any greater self-denial than the savage and the latter acted more according to the laws of nature and sincerity than the first the man that gratifies his appetites after the manner the custom of the country allows of has no censure to fear if he is hotter than goats or bowls as soon as the ceremony is over let him sate and fatigue himself with joy and ecstasy of pleasure raise an adult's appetite by turns as extravagantly as the strength in manhood will give him leave he may with safety laugh at the wise men that should reprove him all the women and above nine and ten of the men are of his side nay he has the liberty of valuing himself upon the fury of his unbridled passion and the more he wallows in lust and strains every faculty to be abundantly voluptuous the sooner he shall have the good will and gain the affection of the women not the young vain and lascivious only but the prudent grave and most sober matrons because impudence is a vice it does not follow that modesty is a virtue it is built upon shame a passion in our nature and may be either good or bad according to the actions performed from that motive shame may hinder a prostitute from yielding to a man before company and the same shame may cause a bashful good-natured creature that has been overcome by frailty to make away with her infant passions may do good by chance but there can be no merit but in the conquest of them was their virtue and modesty it would be of the same force in the dark as it is in the light which it is not this the men of pleasure know very well who never trouble their heads with a woman's virtue so they can but conquer her modesty seducers therefore do not make their attacks at noonday but cut their trenches at night people of substance may sin without being exposed for their stolen pleasure but servants and the poorer sort of women have seldom the opportunity of concealing a big belly or at least the consequences of it it is impossible that an unfortunate girl of good parentage may be left destitute and no no shift for a livelihood then to become a nursery or a chambermaid she may be diligent faithful and obliging have abundance of modesty and if you will be religious she may resist temptations and preserve her chastity for years together and yet at last meet with an unhappy moment in which she gives up her honor to a powerful deceiver who afterwards neglects her if she proves with child her sorrows are unspeakable and she cannot be reconciled with the wretchedness of her condition the fear of shame attacks her so lively that every thought distracts her all the family she lives in have great opinion of her virtue and her last mistress took her for a saint how will her enemies that envied her character rejoice how will her relations to test her the more modest she is now and the more violently the dread of coming to shame hurries her away the more wicked and more cruel her resolutions will be either against herself or what she bears it is commonly imagined that she who can destroy her child her own flesh and blood must have a vast stock of barbarity and be a savage monster different from other women but this is likewise a mistake which we commit for the want of understanding nature and the force of passions the same woman that murders her bastard in the most excruble manner if she is married afterwards may take care of cherish and feel all the tenderness for the infant that the fondest mother can be capable of all mothers naturally love their children but as this is a passion in all passion center and self-love so that it may be subdued by any superior passion to soothe that same self-love which if nothing had intervened would have bid her fondle her offspring common whores whom all the world knows to be such hardly ever destroy their children nay even those who assist in robberies and murders seldom are guilty of this crime not because they are less cruel or more virtuous but because they have lost their modesty to a greater degree and the fear of shame makes hardly any impression upon them our love to what was never within the reach of our senses is but poor and inconsiderable and therefore women have no natural love to what they bear their affection begins after the birth what they feel before is the result of reason education and the thoughts of duty even when children are first born the mother's love is but weak and increases with the sensibility of the child and grows up to a prodigious height when by signs it begins to express his sorrows and joys makes his wants known and discovers his love to novelty and the multiplicity of his desires what labors and hazards have not women undergone to maintain and save their children what force and fortitude beyond their sex have they not shown in their behalf but the vilest women have exerted themselves on this head as violently as the best all are prompted to it by a natural drift and inclination without any consideration of the injury or benefit the society receives from it there is no merit in pleasing ourselves and the very offspring is often irreparably ruined by the excessive fondness of parents for though infants for two or three years may be the better for this indulging care of mothers yet afterwards if not moderated it may totally spoil them and many it has brought to the gallows if the reader thinks i have been too tedious on that branch of modesty by the help of which we endeavor to appear chaste i shall make him amends in the brevity with which i designed to treat of the remaining part by which we would make others believe that the esteem we have for them exceeds the value we have for ourselves and that we have no disregard so great to any interest as we have to our own this laudable quality is commonly known by the name of manners and good breeding and consists in a fashionable habit acquired by precept an example of flattering the pride and selfishness of others and concealing our own with judgment and dexterity this must be only understood of our commerce with our equals and superiors and whilst we are in peace and amity with them for our complacence must never interfere with the rules of honor nor the homage that is due to us from servants and others that depend on us with this caution i believe that the definition will quadrate with everything that can be alleged as a piece or an example of either good breeding or ill manners and it will be very difficult throughout the various accidents of human life and conversation to find out an instance of modesty or impudence that is not comprehended in and illustrated by it in all countries and in all ages a man that asks considerable favors of one who is a stranger to him without consideration is called impudent because he shows openly his selfishness without having any regard to the selfishness of the other we may see in it likewise the reason why a man ought to speak of his wife and children and everything that is dear to him as sparing as is possible and hardly ever of himself especially in commendation of them a well bred man may be desirous and even greedy after praise and the esteem of others but to be praised to his face offends his modesty the reason is this all human creatures before they are yet polished receive an extraordinary pleasure in hearing themselves praised this we are all conscious of and therefore when we see a man openly enjoy and feast on this delight in which we have no share it rouses our selfishness and immediately we begin to envy and hate him for this reason the well bred man conceals his joy and utterly denies that he feels any and by this means consulting and soothing our selfishness he averts that envy and hatred which otherwise he would have justly to fear when from our childhood we observe how those are ridiculed who calmly can hear their own praises it is possible that we may strenuously endeavor to avoid that pleasure that in tract of time we grow uneasy at the approach of it but this is not following the dictates of nature but warping her by education and custom for if the generality of mankind took no delight in being praised there could be no modesty in refusing to hear it the man of manners picks not the best but rather takes the worst out of the dish and gets of everything unless it be forced upon him always the most indifferent share by this civility the best remains for others which being a compliment to all that are present everybody is pleased with it the more they love themselves the more they are forced to approve of his behavior and gratitude stepping in they're obliged almost whether they will or not to think favorably of him after this manner it is the well bred man insinuates himself in the esteem of all the companies he comes in and if he gets nothing else by it the pleasure he receives in reflecting on the applause which he knows is secretly given him is to a proud man more than an equivalent for his former self-denial and overpays to self-love with interest the loss it sustained in his complacence to others if there are seven or eight apples or peaches among six people of the ceremony that are pretty near equal he who is prevailed upon to choose first will take that which if there be any considerable difference a child would know to be the worst this he does to insinuate that he looks upon those he is with to be of superior merit and that there is not one whom he wishes not better to than he does to himself it is custom and a general practice that makes this modish deceit familiar to us without being shocked at the absurdity of it for if people had been used to speak from the sincerity of their hearts and acting according to the natural sentiments they felt within until they were three or four and twenty it would be impossible for them to assist at this comedy of manners without either loud laughter or indignation and yet it is certain that such behavior makes us more tolerable to one another than we could be otherwise it is very advantageous to the knowledge of ourselves to be able well to distinguish between good qualities and virtues the bond of society exacts from every member a certain regard for others which the highest is not exempt from in the presence of the meanest even in an empire but when we are by ourselves and so far removed from company as to be beyond the reach of their senses the words modesty and impudence lose their meaning a person may be wicked but he cannot be immodest while he is alone and no thought can be impudent that never was communicated to another a man of exalted pride may so hide it that nobody shall be able to discover that he has any and yet receive greater satisfaction from that passion than another who indulges himself in the declaration of it before all the world good manners having nothing to do with virtue or religion instead of extinguishing they rather inflame the passions the man of sense and education never exalts more in his pride than when he hides it with the greatest dexterity and in feasting on the applause which he is sure all good judges will pay to his behavior he enjoys a pleasure altogether unknown to the short-sighted surly alderman that shows his haughtiness glaringly in his face pulls off his hat to nobody and hardly deigns to speak to an inferior a man may carefully avoid everything that in the eye of the world is esteemed to be the result of pride without mortifying himself or making the least conquest of his passion it is possible that he only sacrifices the insipid outward part of his pride which none but silly ignorant people take delight in to the part we all feel within and which the men of the highest spirit and most exalted genius feed on with so much ecstasy and silence the pride of great and polite men is nowhere more conspicuous than in the debates about ceremony and precedency where they have an opportunity of giving their vices the appearance of virtues and can make the world believe that it is their care their tenderness for the dignity of their office or the honor of their masters what is the result of their own personal pride and vanity this is most manifest in all negotiations of ambassadors and plenipotentiaries and must be known by all that observe what is transacted at public treaties and it will ever be true that men of the best taste have no relish in their pride as long as an immortal can find out that they are proud end of section six section seven of the fable of the bees by bernard mandeville this libra vox recording is in the public domain line 125 for there was not a bee that would get more I won't say than he should but then etc the vast esteem we have of ourselves and the small value we have for others make us all very unfair judges in our own cases few men can be persuaded that they get too much by those they sell to how extraordinary so ever their gains are when at the same time there is hardly a profit so inconsiderable but they will grudge it to those they buy from for this reason the smallest of the seller's advantage being the greatest persuasive to the buyer tradesmen are generally forced to tell lies in their own defense and invent a thousand improbable stories rather than discover what they really get by their commodities some old standards indeed that pretend to have more honesty or what is more likely have more pride than their neighbors are used to make but a few words with their customers and refuse to sell at a lower price than what they ask at first but these are commonly cunning foxes that are above the world and know that those who have money get often more by being surly than others by being obliging the vulgar imagine they can find more sincerity in the sour looks of a grave old fellow and there appears in the submissive air and inviting complacency of a young beginner but this is a grand mistake and if they are mercers drapers or others that have many sorts of the same commodity you may soon be satisfied look upon their goods and you will find each of them have their private marks which is a certain sign that both are equally careful in concealing the prime cost of what they sell end of section seven section eight of The Fable of the Bees by Bernard Mandeville this LibriVox recording is in the public domain line 128 as your gamesters do that though at fair play near will own before the losers what they've won this being a general practice which nobody can be ignorant of that has ever seen any play there must be something in the make of man that is the occasion of it but as the searching into this will seem very trifling to many I desire the reader to skip this remark unless he be in perfect good humor and has nothing at all to do that gamesters generally endeavor to conceal their gains before the losers seems to me to proceed from a mixture of gratitude pity and self-preservation all men are naturally grateful while they receive a benefit and what they say or do while it affects and feels warm about them is real and comes from the heart but when that is over the returns we make generally proceed from virtue good manners reason and the thoughts of duty but not from gratitude which is a motive of the inclination if we consider how tyrannically the immoderate love we bear to ourselves obliges us to esteem everybody that with or without design acts in our favor and how often we extend our affection to things inanimate when we imagine them to contribute to our present advantage if I say we consider this it will not be difficult to find out which way are being pleased with those whose money we win is owing to a principle of gratitude the next motive is our pity which proceeds from our consciousness of the vexation there is in losing and as we love the esteem of everybody we are afraid of forfeiting theirs by being the cause of their loss lastly we apprehend their envy and so self-preservation makes that we strive to extinuate first the obligation then the reason why we ought to pity in hopes that we shall have less of their ill will and envy when the passions show themselves in their full strength they are known by everybody when a man in power gives a great place to one that did him a small kindness in his youth we call it gratitude when a woman howls and rings her hands at the loss of her child the prevalent passion is grief and the uneasiness we feel at the sight of great misfortunes as a man's breaking his legs or dashing his brains out is everywhere called pity but the gentle strokes the slight touches of the passions are generally overlooked or mistaken to prove my assertion we have but to observe what generally passes between the winner and the loser the first is always complacent and if the other will but keep his temper more than ordinary obliging he is ever ready to humor the loser and willing to rectify his mistakes with precaution and the height of good manners the loser is uneasy captious morose and perhaps swears and storms yet as long as he says or does nothing designedly affronting the winner takes all in good part without offending disturbing or contradicting him losers says the proverb must have leave to rail all which shows that the loser is thought in the right to complain and for that very reason pitied that we are afraid of the loser's ill will is plain from our being conscious that we are displeased with those we lose to and envy we always dread when we think ourselves happier than others from once it follows that when the winner endeavors to conceal his gains his designs to avert the mischiefs he apprehends and this is self-preservation the cares of which continue to affect us as long as the motives that first produced them remain but a month a week or perhaps a much shorter time after when the thoughts of the obligation and consequently the winner's gratitude are worn off when the loser has recovered his temper laughs at his loss and the reason of the winner's pity ceases when the winner's apprehension of drawing upon him the ill will and envy of the loser is gone that is to say as soon as all the passions are over and the cares of self-preservation employ the winner's thoughts no longer he will not only make no scruple of owning what he has won but will if his vanity steps in likewise with pleasure brag off if not exaggerate his gains it is possible that when people play together who are at enmity and perhaps desirous of picking a quarrel or men playing for trifles contend for superiority of skill and aim chiefly at the glory of conquest nothing shall happen of what i have been talking of different passions obliges to take different measures what i have said i would have understood of ordinary play for money at which men endeavor to get and venture to lose what they value and even here i know it will be objected by many that though they have been guilty of concealing their gains yet they never observe those passions which i allege as the causes of that frailty which is no wonder because few men will give themselves leisure and fewer yet take the right method of examining themselves as they should do it is with the passions in men as it is with colors and cloth it is easy to know a red a green a blue a yellow a black etc in as many different places but it must be an artist that can unravel all the various colors and their proportions that make up the compound of a well-mixed cloth in the same manner may the passions be discovered by everybody whilst they are distinct and a single one employs the whole man but it is very difficult to trace every motive of those actions that are the result of a mixture of passions end of section eight section nine of the fable of the bees by bernard mandeville this liber vox recording is in the public domain line 163 and virtue who from politics has learned a thousand cunning tricks was by their happy influence made friends with vice it may be said that virtue has made friends with vice when industrious good people who maintain their families and bring up their children handsomely pay taxes and are several ways useful members of the society get a livelihood by something that chiefly depends on or is very much influenced by the vices of others without being themselves guilty of or accessory to them any otherwise than by way of trade as a druggist may be to poisoning or a sword cutler to bloodshed thus the merchant that sends corner cloth into foreign parts to purchase wines and brandies encourages the growth of manufacturing of his own country he is a benefactor to navigation increases the customs and is many ways beneficial to the public yet it is not to be denied but that his greatest dependence is lavishness and drunkenness for if none were to drink wine but such only as stand in need of it nor anybody more than his health required that multitude of wine merchants vintners coopers etc that make such a considerable show in this flourishing city would be in a miserable condition the same may be said not only of card and dice makers that are the immediate ministers to a legion of vices but that of mercers of holsterers tailors and many others that would be starved in half a year's time if pride and luxury were at once to be banished the nation end of section nine section ten of the fable of the bees by bernard mandeville this libra vox recording is in the public domain line 167 the worst of all the multitude did something for the common good this i know will seem to be a strange paradox to many and i shall be asked what benefit the public receives from thieves and housebreakers they are i own very pernicious to human society and every government ought to take all imaginable care to root out and destroy them yet if all people were strictly honest and nobody would meddle with or pry into anything but his own half the smiths of the nation would want employment and abundance of workmanship which now serves for ornament as well as defense is to be seen everywhere both in town and country that would never have been thought of but to secure us against the attempts of pilferers and robbers if what i have said be thought far fetched and my assertion seems a paradox i desire the reader to look upon the consumption of things and he will find that the laziest and most unactive the profligate and most mischievous are all forced to do something for the common good and whilst their mouths are not sewed up and they continue to wear and otherwise destroy what the industrious are daily employed about to make fetch and procure in spite of their teeth obliged to help maintain the poor and the public charges the labor of millions would soon be at an end if they were not other millions as i say in the fable employed to see their handiworks destroyed but men are not to be judged by the consequences that may succeed their actions but the facts themselves and the motives which it shall appear they acted from if an ill-natured miser who is almost a plum and spends but fifty pounds a year though he has no relation to inherit his wealth should be robbed of five hundred or a thousand guineas it is certain that as soon as this money should come to circulate the nation would be better for the robbery and receive the same and as a real benefit from it as if an arch bishop had left the same sum to the public yet justice and the peace of society require that he or they who rob the miser should be hanged though there were half a dozen of them concerned thieves in pickpockets steal for a livelihood and either what they can get honestly is not sufficient to keep them or else they have an aversion to constant working they want to gratify their senses have victual strong drink lewd women and to be idle when they please the victualer who entertains them and takes their money knowing which way they come at it is very near as great a villain as his guests but if he fleeces them well minds his business and is a prudent man he may get money and be punctual with them he deals with the trusty out clerk whose chief aim is his master's profit sends him in what beer he wants and takes care not to lose his custom while the man's money is good he thinks it no business of his to examine whom he gets it by in the meantime the wealthy brewer who leaves all the management to his servants knows nothing of the matter but keeps his coach treats his friends and adjoys his pleasure with ease and a good conscience he gets an estate builds houses and educates his children in plenty without ever thinking on the labor which wretches perform the shifts fools make and the tricks naves play to come at the commodity by the vast sale of which he amasses his great riches a highwayman having met with a considerable booty gives a poor common harlot he fancies ten pounds to new rig her from top to toe is there a spruce mercer so conscientious that he will refuse to sell her a thread satin though he knew who she was she must have shoes and stockings gloves the stay and mantua maker the seamstress the linen draper all must get something by her and a hundred different tradesmen dependent on those she laid her money out with may touch part of it before a month is at an end the generous gentleman in the meantime his money being near spent ventured again on the road but the second day having committed a robbery near high gate he was taken with one of his accomplices and the next sessions both were condemned and suffered the law the money due on their conviction fell to three country fellows on whom it was admirably well bestowed one was an honest farmer a sober pains taking man but reduced by misfortunes the summer before by the mortality among the cattle he had lost six cows out of ten and now his landlord to whom he owed 30 pounds had seized on all his stock the other was a day laborer who struggled hard with the world had a sick wife at home and several small children to provide for the third was a gentleman's gardener who maintained his father in prison where being bound for a neighbor he had lain for 12 pounds almost a year and a half this act of filial duty was the more meritorious because he had for some time been engaged to a young woman whose parents lived in good circumstances but would not give their consent before our gardener had 50 guineas of his own to show they received above four score pounds each which extricated every one of them out of the difficulties they labored under and made them in their opinion the happiest people in the world nothing is more destructive either in regard to the health of the vigilance and industry of the poor than the infamous liquor the name of which derived from juniper and dutch is now by frequent use and the laconic spirit of the nation from a word of middling length shrunk into monosyllable intoxicating gin that charms the inactive the desperate and crazy of either sex and makes the starving sought behold his rags and nakedness with stupid indolence or banter both in senseless laughter and more and sippid jests it is a fiery lake that sets the brain in flame burns up the entrails and scorches every part within and at the same time a leafy of oblivion in which the wretch immersed to drowns his most pinching cares and with his reason all anxious reflection on brats that cry for food hard winters frosts and horrid empty home in hot in a dust tempers it makes men quarrelsome renders them brutes and savages sets them on to fight for nothing and has often been the cause of murder it has broke and destroyed the strongest constitutions thrown them into consumptions and been the fatal and immediate occasion of apoplexy's frenzies and sudden death but as these latter mischiefs happen but seldom they might be overlooked and connived at but this cannot be said of the many diseases that are familiar to the liquor and which are daily and hourly produced by it such as loss of appetite fevers black and yellow jaundice convulsions stone and gravel dropsies and leukoflegmases among the doting admirers of this liquid poison many of the meanest rank from a sincere affection to the commodity itself become dealers in it and take delight to help others to what they love themselves as horrors commence bauds to make the profits of one trade subservient to the pleasures of the other but as these starvelings commonly drink more than their gains they seldom by selling men the wretchedness of condition they labored under while they were only buyers in the fag end and outskirts of the town and all places of the vilest resort it is sold in some part or other of almost every house frequently in sellers and sometimes in the garret the petty traders in the stygian comfort are supplied by others in somewhat higher station that keep professed brandy shops and are as little to be envied as the former and among the middling people i know not a more miserable shift for a livelihood than they're calling whoever would thrive and it must in the first place be of a watchful and suspicious as well as bold and resolute temper that he may not be imposed upon by cheats and sharpers nor outbullied by the oaths and implications of hackney coachman and foot soldiers in the second he ought to be a dabster at gross jokes and loud laughter and have all the winning ways to allure customers and draw out their money and may be well versed in the low jests and railery is the mob make use of to banter prudence and frugality he must be affable and obsequious to the most despicable always ready and officious to help a porter down with his load shake hands with the basket woman pull off his hat to an oyster wench and be familiar with a beggar with patience and good humor he must be able to endure the filthy actions and vile language of nasty drabs and the ludus rakelles and without a frown or the least a version bear with all the stench and squalor noise and impertinence that the utmost indigence laziness and a variety can produce in the most shameless and abandoned vulgar the vast number of shops i speak of throughout the city and suburbs are an astonishing evidence of the many seducers that in a lawful occupation are accessory to the introduction and increase of all the sloth soddishness wanton misery which the abuse of strong waters is the immediate cause of to lift above the mediocrity perhaps half a score men that deal in the same commodity by wholesale while among the retailers though qualified as i required a much greater number are broke and ruined for not abstaining from the surcy and cup they hold out to others and the more fortunate are their whole lifetime obliged to take the uncommon pains endure the hardships and swallow all the ungrateful and shocking things i named for little or nothing beyond a bear sustenance and their daily bread the short-sighted vulgar and the chain of causes seldom can see further than one link but those who can enlarge their view and will give themselves the leisure of gazing on the prospect of concatenated events may in a hundred places see good spring up and pollute from evil as naturally as chickens do from eggs the money that arises from the duties upon malt is a considerable part of the national revenue and should no spirits be distilled from it the public treasure would prodigiously suffer on that head but if we would set in a true light the many advantages and large catalogs of solid blessings that accrue from and are owing to the evil i treat of we are to consider the rents that are received the ground that is tilled the tools that are made the cattle that are employed and above all the multitude of poor that are maintained by the variety of labor requited in husbandry in malting and carriage and distillation before we can have the product of malt which we call low wines and is but the beginning from which the various spirits are afterwards to be made besides this a sharp-sighted good-humored man might pick up abundance of good from the rubbish which i have flung away for evil he would tell me that whatever sloth and saudishness might be occasioned by the abuse of malt spirits the moderate use of it was of inestimable benefit to the poor who could purchase no cordials of higher prices that it was an universal comfort not only in cold and weariness but most of the afflictions that are peculiar to the necessitous and had often to the most destitute supplied the places of meat drink clothes and lodging that the stupid indolence in the most wretched condition occasioned by those composing drafts which i complained of was a blessing to thousands for that certainly those were the happiest who felt the least pain as to diseases he would say that as it caused some so it cured others and that if the excess and those liquors had been sudden death to some few the habit of drinking them daily prolonged the lives of many whom once it agreed with that for the law sustained from the insignificant quarrels it created at home we were overpaid in the advantage we received from it abroad by upholding the courage of soldiers and animating the sailors to the combat and that in the two last wars no considerable victory had been obtained without to the dismal account i have given of the retailers and what they are forced to submit to he would answer that not many acquired more than middling riches in any trade and that what i had counted so offensive and intolerable on the calling was trifling to those who are used to it what seemed irksome and calamitous to some was delightful and often ravishing to others as men differed in circumstances in education he would put me in mind that the profit of an employment ever made amends for the toil and labor that belonged to it nor forget dulcis odor lucre erre qualibet or to tell me that the smell of gain was fragrant even to night workers if i should ever urge to him that to have here and there one great and eminent distiller was a poor equivalent for the vile means the certain want and lasting misery of so many thousand wretches as were necessary to raise them he would answer that of this i could be no judge because i do not know what vast benefit they might afterwards be of to the commonwealth perhaps he would say the man thus raised will exert himself in the commission of the peace or other station with vigilance and zeal against the disillusioned disaffected and retaining his stirring temper be as industrious and spreading loyalty and the reformation of manners throughout every cranny of the wide populist town as once he was in filling it with spirits till he becomes at last the scourge of horrors of vagabonds and beggars the terror of rioters and discontented rebels and constant plague to sabbath breaking butchers here my good humored antagonist would exult and triumph over me especially if he could instance to me such a bright example what an uncommon blessing would he cry out is this man to his country how shining and illustrious his virtue to justify his exclamation he would demonstrate to me that it was impossible to give a fuller evidence of self denial in a grateful mind than to see him at the expense of his quiet and hazard of his life and limbs be always harassing and even for trifles persecuting that very class of men to whom he owes his fortune from no other motive than his aversion to idleness and great concern for religion and the public welfare end of section 10