ty of California 
 ern Regional 
 iry Facility
 
 ERASMVS. 

 
 E^RASMUS 
 
 IN 
 
 PEAISE OF FOLLY 
 
 WITH PORTRAIT, LIFE OF ERASMUS, AND HIS 
 EPISTLE TO SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 Illustrated with many curious Engravings, Designed, 
 Drawn, and Etched by HANS HOLBEIN. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 PETER ECKLER PUBLISHING CO. 
 1922
 
 Printed in U. S. A.
 
 PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. 
 
 HTHE works of Erasmus, which have so greatly enriched 
 1 the literature of the world, have survived the lapse of 
 centuries that have passed; and, because they contain that 
 "one touch of nature which makes the whole world kin," 
 they will survive the lapse of untold centuries yet to come. 
 
 His description of the bigotry and superstition the 
 ignorance and credulity of the masses of his day, is as 
 true now as it was when first given to the world ; and his 
 account of the pleadings and preachings the pretensions 
 and presumptions of the dominant priesthood is as ap- 
 plicable to the twentieth, as to the fifteenth century in 
 which it was written. 
 
 Under the pleasing mask of Folly our author has 
 uttered truths which are indeed sublime, and in the 
 witty language of the Jester he has exposed the fallacies 
 of that Faith which has, not inaptly, been defined by an 
 inspired writer in the New Testament, as ' ' the evidence of 
 things not seen, and the substance of things hoped for." 
 
 Like the late ROBERT G. INGERSOLL, ERASMUS was 
 above all things a critic, and he has most severely 
 criticised the priesthood of his day ; while our talented 
 American orator, from his tolerant spirit, and from the 
 innate kindness of his nature, was inclined to mercy, and 
 looked with eyes of pity and commiseration upon the 
 entire priestly fraternity, they being, unfortunately, the 
 inheritors of ancient ignorance and error, which, indeed, 
 they did not originate, and from which they have not the 
 intelligence and resolution to free their minds. co 
 
 2007487
 
 vi PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. 
 
 From the secure Citadel of Truth, armed with the 
 weapons of reason and satire, Krasmus has in this work 
 severely bombarded the strongholds of Faith, that faith 
 which is founded on ignorance and superstition and his 
 reward has been the continued popularity of his writings 
 to the present day, and the world-wide recognition of 
 his unquestioned talents. 
 
 Perhaps no writer that ever lived could excel or even 
 equal Erasmus in painting a word-picture as vivid and 
 realistic as an object is reflected in a mirror placed before 
 it. His well-known description of old age, may serve 
 as an example : 
 
 " Some decrepit old fellows, that look as hollow as the grave 
 into which they are falling, that rattle in the throat at every word 
 they speak, that can eat no meat but what is tender enough to 
 suck, that have more hair on their beard than they have on their 
 head, and go stooping toward the dust they must shortly return 
 to whose skin seems already dressed into parchment, and their 
 bones already dried to a skeleton these shadows of men shall be 
 wonderfully ambitious of living longer, and therefore fence off the 
 attacks of age with all imaginable sleights and impostures." p. 108. 
 
 On page 116 we are told that, "in the infancy of the 
 world, ignorance was as much the parent of happiness as 
 it has since been of devotion," that in his day u the law- 
 yers got the estates to themselves which they were em- 
 ployed to recover for their clients, while in the mean 
 time the poor divine shall have the lice crawl upon his 
 thread-bare gown, before he can get money enough to 
 purchase a new one." 
 
 The affinity of Christianity with Folly, and, incident- 
 ally, its divergence from Wisdom, is clearly shown. 
 
 " It is observable that the Christian Religion seems to have 
 some relation to Folly, and no alliance at all with wisdom. Of 
 the truth whereof, if you desire farther proof than my bare word, 
 you may please first to consider that children, women, old men, 
 and fools, led as it were by a secret impulse of nature, are always 
 most constant in repairing to church, and most zealous, devout, 
 and attentive in the performance of the several parts of divine
 
 PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. vii 
 
 service ; nay, the first promulgators of the gospel, and the first 
 converts to Christianity, were men of plainness and simplicity, 
 wholly unacquainted with secular policy or learning. 
 
 " Farther, there are none more silly, or nearer their wits' end, 
 than those who are too superstitiously religious. They are pro- 
 fusely lavish in their charity ; they invite fresh affronts by an easy 
 forgiveness of past injuries ; they suffer themselves to be imposed 
 upon by laying claim to the innocence of the dove ; they make it 
 the interest of no person to oblige them, because they will love 
 and do good to their enemies, as much as to their most endearing 
 friends ; they banish all pleasure, feeding upon the penance of 
 watching, weeping, fasting, sorrow and ,reproach ; they value 
 not their lives, but with St. Paul, wish to be dissolved, and covet 
 the fiery trial of martyrdom : in a word, they seem altogether so 
 destitute of common sense, that their soul seems already separa- 
 ted from the dead and inactive body. And what else can we im- 
 agine all this to be than downright madness ? " p. 313. 
 
 It would be difficult to surpass the following severe 
 but truthful criticism of the monkish fraternity. 
 
 "The next to these [Divines] are another sort of brainless 
 fools, who style themselves Monks, or members of religious 
 orders, though they assume, both titles very unjustly: for as to 
 the last, they have very little religion in them ; and as to the 
 former, the etymology of the word Monk implies a solitariness, 
 or being alone ; whereas they are so thick abroad that we cannot 
 pass any street or alley without meeting them : and I cannot im- 
 agine which degree of men could be more hopelessly wretched 
 if I [Folly] did not stand their friend, and buoy them up in that 
 lake of misery, which by the engagements of a religious vow they 
 have voluntarily immerged themselves into. 
 
 "But whenifersfc sort of men are so unwelcome to others, as that 
 the very sight of them is thought ominous, I yet make them highly 
 in love with themselves, and fond admirers of their own happi- 
 ness. The first step whereunto they esteem a profound ignorance, 
 thinking carnal knowledge a great enemy to spiritual welfare, and 
 they seem confident of becoming greater proficients in divine 
 mysteries, the less they are influenced with any human learning. 
 
 " Among these, some make a good and profitable trade by 
 beggary, going about from house to house, not like the apostles, 
 to break, but to beg their bread, nay, they thrust themselves into 
 all public houses, come aboard the passage-boats, get into the 
 traveling wagons, and omit no opportunity of time or place for 
 craving people's charity, and doing a great deal of injury to com- 
 mon highway beggars by interfering with their traffic of alms. 
 
 " It is amusing to observe how they regulate their actions, as 
 it were by weight and measure, to so exact a proportion, as if 
 the whole loss of their religion depended upon the omission of 
 the least punctilio.
 
 viii PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. 
 
 " Thus they must be very critical in the precise number of 
 knots requisite for tying on their sandals ; what distinct colors 
 their respective habits should be, and of what material made ; 
 how broad and long their girdles ; how big and in what fashion 
 their hoods ; whether their bald crowns be to a hair's-breadth of 
 the right cut ; how many hours they must sleep, at what minute 
 rise to prayers, etc." p. 226. 
 
 On page 269 we are told that the Monks : 
 
 " Never consider that their shaven crown is a token that 
 they should pare off and cut away all the superfluous lusts of 
 this world, and give themselves wholly to divine meditation ; but 
 instead of this, our bald-pated priests think they have done 
 enough if they do but mumble over such a fardel of prayers, 
 which it is a wonder if God should hear or understand, when 
 they whisper them so softly, and in so unknown a language, 
 which they can scarce hear or understand themselves. This they 
 have in common with other mechanics, that they are most subtle 
 in the craft of getting money, and wonderfully skilled in their 
 respective dues of tithes, offerings, perquisites, etc. 
 
 " Thus they are all content to reap the profit, but as to the 
 burden, that they toss as a ball from one hand to another, and 
 assign it over to any they can get or hire. For as secular princes 
 have their judges and subordinate ministers to act in their name, 
 and supply their stead ; so ecclesiastical governors have their 
 deputies, vicars, and curates, nay, and many times turn over 
 the whole care of religion to the laity. The laity, supposing they 
 have nothing to do with the church (as if their baptismal vow 
 did not initiate them members of it), make it over to the priests ; 
 of the priests again, those that are secular, thinking their title 
 implies them to be a little too profane, assign this task over to 
 the regulars, the regulars to the monks, the monks bandy it from 
 one order to another, till it light upon the mendicants ; they lay 
 it upon the Carthusians, which order alone keeps honesty and 
 piety among them, but really keep them so close that nobody 
 could ever yet see them. 
 
 " Thus the Popes, thrusting out their sickle into the harvest of 
 profit, leave all the other toil of spiritual husbandry to the bishops, 
 the bishops bestow it upon the pastors, the pastors on their cu- 
 rates, and the curates commit it to the mendicants, who return it 
 again to such as well know how to make good advantage of the 
 flock by securing the benefit of their fleece." 
 
 Many subjects beside the priesthood and Christianity 
 are critically and intelligently discussed by Erasmus 
 throughout this work, which the intelligent reader will 
 doubtless appreciate and enjoy. 
 
 PETER ECKLER.
 
 THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. 
 
 C RASMUS, so deservedly famous for his admirable 
 1 ' writings, the vast extent of his learning, his great 
 candor and moderation, and for being one of the chief 
 restorers of the Latin tongue on this side the Alps, was 
 born at Rotterdam, on the 28th of October, in the year 
 1467. The anonymous author of his life (commonly 
 printed with his Colloquies of the London edition) is 
 pleased to tell us that de anno quo natus est apud batavos, 
 non constat. And if he himself wrote the life which we 
 find before the Elzevir edition, said to be Erasmo autore^ 
 he does not particularly mention the year in which he 
 was born, but places it circa annum 67 supra millesimum 
 quadringentesimum. Another Latin life, which is pre- 
 fixed to the above-mentioned London edition, fixes it in 
 the year 1465 ; as does his epitaph at Basil. But as the 
 inscription on his statue at Rotterdam, the place of his 
 nativity, may reasonably be supposed to be the most 
 authentic, we have followed that. 
 
 His mother was the daughter of a physician at Seven- 
 bergen in Holland, with whom his father contracted 
 an acquaintance, and had correspondence with her on 
 promise of marriage, and was actually contracted to her. 
 His father's name was Gerard ; he was the youngest of 
 ten brothers, without one sister coming between, for 
 
 (ix)
 
 X THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. 
 
 which reason his parents (according to the superstition 
 of the times) designed to consecrate him to the church. 
 His brothers liked the notion, because, as the church 
 then governed all, they hoped, if he rose in his pro- 
 fession, to have a sure friend to advance their interest ; 
 but no importunities could prevail on Gerard to turn 
 ecclesiastic. Finding himself continually pressed upon so 
 disagreeable a subject, and not being able longer to bear 
 it, he was forced to fly from his native country, leaving a 
 letter for his friends, in which he acquainted them with 
 the reason of his departure, and that he should never 
 trouble them again. Thus he left her who was to have 
 been his wife, big with child, and made the best of his 
 way to Rome. Being an admirable master of the pen, 
 he made a very genteel livelihood by transcribing most 
 authors of note (for printing was not then in use). He for 
 some time lived at large, but afterwards applied close to 
 study, made great progress in the Greek and Latin lan- 
 guages, and in the civil law ; for Rome at that time was 
 full of learned men. When his friends knew he was at 
 Rome, they sent him word that the young gentlewoman 
 whom he had courted for a wife was dead ; upon which, 
 in a melancholy fit, he took orders, and turned his 
 thoughts wholly to the study of divinity. He returned 
 to his own country, and found to his grief that he had 
 been imposed upon ; but it was too late to think of 
 marriage, so he dropped all farther pretensions to his 
 mistress ; nor would she after this unlucky adventure be 
 induced to marry. 
 
 The son took the name of Gerard after his father, 
 which in German signifies amiable, and (after the fashion
 
 THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. XI 
 
 of the learned men of that age, who affected to give their 
 names a Greek or L,atin turn) his was turned into 
 Erasmus, which in Greek has the same signification. 
 He was chorister of the cathedral church of Utrecht till 
 he was nine years old ; after which he was sent to 
 Deventer to be instructed by the famous Alexander 
 Hegius, a Westphalian. Under so able a master he 
 proved an extraordinary proficient ; and it is remarkable 
 that he had such a strength of memory as to be able to 
 say all Terence and Horace by heart. He was now 
 arrived to the thirteenth year of his age, and had been 
 continually under the watchful eye of his mother, who 
 died of the plague then raging at Deventer. The con- 
 tagion daily increasing, and having swept away the 
 family where he boarded, he was obliged to return home. 
 His father Gerard was so concerned at his wife's death 
 that he grew melancholy, and died soon after : neither 
 of his parents being much above forty when they died. 
 
 Erasmus had three guardians assigned him, the chief 
 of whom was Peter Winkel, schoolmaster of Goude ; and 
 the fortune left him was amply sufficient for his support, 
 if his executors had faithfully discharged their trust. 
 Although he was fit for the University, his guardians 
 were averse to sending him there, as they designed him 
 for a monastic life, and therefore removed him to Bois- 
 le-duc, where, he says, he lost near three years, living 
 in a Franciscan convent. The professor of humanity 
 in this Convent, admiring his rising genius, daily im- 
 portuned him to take the habit, and be of their order. 
 Erasmus had no great inclination for the cloister ; not 
 that he had the least dislike to the severities of a pious
 
 xii THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. 
 
 life, but he could not reconcile himself to the monastic 
 profession ; he therefore urged his rawness of age, and 
 desired farther to consider better of the matter. The 
 plague spreading in those parts, and he having struggled 
 a long time with a quartan ague, obliged him to return 
 home. 
 
 His guardians employed those about him to use all 
 manner of arguments to prevail on him to enter the 
 order of monk ; sometimes threatening, and at other 
 times making use of flattery and fair speeches. When 
 Winkel, his guardian, found him not to be moved from 
 his resolution, he told him that he threw up his guardi- 
 anship from that moment. Young Erasmus replied, 
 that he took him at his word, since he was old enough 
 now to look out for himself. When Winkel found that 
 threats did not avail, he employed his brother, who was 
 the other guardian, to see what he could effect by fair 
 means. Thus he was surrounded by them and their 
 agents on all sides. 
 
 By mere accident, Erasmus went to visit a religious 
 house belonging to the same order, in Emaus or Steyn, 
 near Goude, where he met with one Cornelius, who had 
 been his companion at Deventer ; and though he had not 
 himself taken the habit, he was perpetually preaching 
 up the advantages of a religious life, as the convenience 
 of noble libraries, the helps of learned conversation, 
 retirement from the noise and folly of the world, and 
 the like. Thus at last he was induced to pitch upon 
 this Convent. Upon his admission they fed him with 
 great promises, to engage him to take the holy cloth ; 
 and though he found almost everything fall short of his
 
 THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. Xlll 
 
 expectation, yet his necessities, and the usage he was 
 threatened with if he abandoned their order, prevailed 
 with him, after his year of probation, to profess himself 
 a member of their fraternity. Not long after this, he 
 had the honor to be known to Henry a Bergis, bishop 
 of Cambray, who having some hopes of obtaining a 
 cardinal's hat, wanted one perfectly master of Latin to 
 solicit this affair for him ; for this purpose Erasmus was 
 taken into the bishop's family, where he wore the habit 
 of his order. 
 
 The bishop not succeeding in his expectation at 
 Rome, proved fickle and wavering in his affection; 
 therefore Erasmus prevailed with him to send him to 
 Paris, to prosecute his studies in that famous university, 
 with the promise of an annual allowance, which was 
 never paid him. He was admitted into Montague Col- 
 lege, but indisposition obliged him to return to the 
 bishop, by whom he was honorably entertained. 
 
 Finding his health restored, he made a journey to 
 Holland, intending to settle there, but was persuaded to 
 go a second time to Paris ; where, having no patron to 
 support him, he says, he rather made a shift to live, 
 than he could be said to study. 
 
 He next visited England, where he was received with 
 great respect ; and as appears by several of his letters, 
 he honored it next to the place of his nativity. In a 
 letter to Andrelinus, inviting him to England, he speaks 
 highly of the beauty of the English ladies, and thus de- 
 scribes their innocent freedom : " When you come into 
 a gentleman's house you are allowed the favor to salute 
 them, and the same when you take leave." He was
 
 XIV THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. 
 
 particularly acquainted with Sir Thomas More, Colet, 
 dean of Saint Paul's, Grocinus, Linacer, L,atimer, and 
 many of the most eminent men of that time ; and 
 passed some years at Cambridge. On his way to France 
 he had the misfortune to be stripped of everything ; but 
 he did not revenge this injury by any unjust reflection 
 on the country. Not meeting with the preferment he 
 expected, he made a voyage to Italy, at that time little 
 inferior to the Augustan age for learning. He took his 
 doctor of divinity degree in the university of Turin ; 
 stayed about a year in Bologna ; afterward went to 
 Venice, and there published his book of Adages from 
 the press of the famous Aldus. He removed to Padua, 
 and last to Rome, where his fame had arrived long 
 before him. Here he gained the friendship of all the 
 considerable persons of the city, nor could he have failed 
 to have made his fortune, had he not been prevailed 
 upon by the great promises of his friends in England to 
 return thither on Henry VIII coming to the crown. 
 He was taken into favor by Warham, archbishop of 
 Canterbury, who gave him the living of Aldington, in 
 Kent ; but whether Erasmus was wanting in making his 
 court to Wolsey, or whether the cardinal viewed him 
 with a jealous eye, because he was a favorite of Warham, 
 between whom and Wolsey there was perpetual clashing, 
 we know not ; however, being disappointed, Erasmus 
 went to Flanders, and by the interest of Chancellor 
 Sylvagius, was made counsellor to Charles of Austria, 
 afterward Charles V, emperor of Germany. He resided 
 several years at Basil ; but on the mass being abolished 
 in that city by the Reformation, he retired to Friberg
 
 THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. XV 
 
 in Alsace, where he lived seven years. Having been for 
 a long time afflicted with the gout, he left Friberg, and 
 returned to Basil. Here the gout soon left him, but he 
 was seized by a dysentery, and after laboring a whole 
 month under that disorder, died on the 22nd of July, 
 1536, in the house of Jerome Frobenius, son of John, the 
 famous printer. 
 
 He was honorably interred, and the city of Basil still 
 pays the highest respecl to the memory of so great 
 a man. 
 
 Erasmus was the most facetious man, and the greatest 
 critic of his age. He carried on a reformation in learning 
 at the same time he advanced that of religion ; and pro- 
 moted a purity of style as well as simplicity of worship. 
 This drew on him the hatred of the ecclesiastics, who 
 were no less bigoted to their barbarisms in language 
 and philosophy, than they were to their superstitious 
 and gaudy ceremonies in religion ; they murdered him 
 in their dull treatises, libeled him in their wretched 
 sermons, and in their last and most effectual efforts of 
 malice, they joined some of their own execrable stuff to 
 his compositions ; of which he himself complains in a 
 letter addressed to the divines of Louvain. He exposed 
 with great freedom the vices and corruptions of his own 
 church, yet never would be persuaded to leave her com- 
 munion. The papal policy would never have suffered 
 Erasmus to have taken so unbridled a range in the 
 reproof and censure of her extravagancies, but under 
 such circumstances, when the public attack of I/uther 
 imposed on her a prudential necessity of not disobliging 
 her friends, that she might with more united strength
 
 Xvi THE LIFE OF ERASMUS. 
 
 oppose the common enemy ; and patiently bore what at 
 any other time she would have resented. 
 
 Perhaps no man has obliged the public with a greater 
 number of useful volumes than our author ; though 
 several have been attributed to him which he never 
 wrote. His book of Colloquies has passed through more 
 editions than any of his others. Moreri tells us a 
 boseller in Paris sold twenty thousand copies of one 
 edition.
 
 EPISTLE TO SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 IN my late travels from Italy into England, that I 
 might not trifle away my time in the rehearsal of old 
 wives' fables, I thought it more pertinent to employ my 
 thoughts in reflecting upon some past studies, or calling 
 to remembrance several of those highly learned, as well 
 as smartly ingenious, friends I had here left behind, 
 among whom you (dear Sir) were represented as the 
 chief ; whose memory, while absent at this distance, I 
 respect with no less a complacency than I was wont 
 while present to enjoy your more intimate conversation, 
 which last afforded me the greatest satisfaction I could 
 possibly hope for. Having therefore resolved to be a 
 doing, and deeming that time improper for any serious 
 concerns, I thought good to divert myself with drawing 
 up a panegyric upon' Folly. How ! what maggot (say 
 you) put this in your head ? Why, the first hint, Sir, 
 was your own surname of More, which comes as near 
 the literal sound of the word,* as you yourself are dis- 
 tant from the signification of it, and that in all men's 
 judgments is vastly wide. In the next place, I supposed 
 that this kind of sporting wit would be by you more es- 
 pecially accepted of, by you, Sir, that are wont with 
 this sort of jocose raillery (such as, if I mistake not, is 
 neither dull nor impertinent) to be mightily pleased, and 
 in your ordinary converse to approve yourself a Democ- 
 
 *Mvpia. (xix)
 
 XX EPISTLE TO SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 ritus junior : for truly, as you do from a singular vein 
 of wit very much dissent from the common herd of man- 
 kind ; so, by an incredible affability and pliableness of 
 temper, you have the art of suiting your humor with all 
 sorts of companies. I hope therefore you will not only 
 readily accept of this rude essay as a token from your 
 friend, but take it under your more immediate protec- 
 tion, as being dedicated to you, and by that title adopted 
 for yours, rather than to be fathered as my own. And 
 it is a chance if there be wanting some quarrelsome 
 persons that will show their teeth, and pretend these 
 fooleries are either too buffoon-like for a grave divine, 
 or too satirical for a meek Christian, and so will exclaim 
 against me as if I were vamping up some old farce, or 
 acted anew the Laician again with a peevish snarling at 
 all things. But those who are offended at the lightness 
 and pedantry of this subject, I would have them consider 
 that I do not set myself for the first example of this 
 kind, but that the same has been oft done by many con- 
 siderable authors. For thus several ages since, Homer 
 wrote of no more weighty a subject than of a war between 
 the frogs and mice, Virgil of a gnat and a pudding-cake, 
 and Ovid of a nut. Polycrates commended the cruelty 
 of Busiris ; and Isocrates, that corrects him for this, did 
 as much for the injustice of Glaucus. Favorinus ex- 
 tolled Thersites, and wrote in praise of a quartan ague. 
 Synesius pleaded in behalf of baldness ; and Lucian 
 defended a sipping fly. Seneca drollingly related the 
 deifying of Claudius ; Plutarch the dialogue betwixt 
 Gryllus and Ulysses ; L,ucian and Apuleius the story of 
 an ass ; and somebody else records the last will of a hog,
 
 EPISTLE TO SIR THOMAS MORE. XXI 
 
 of which St. Hierom makes mention. So that if they 
 please, let themselves think the worst of me, and fancy 
 to themselves that I was all this while a playing at push- 
 pin, or riding astride on a hobby-horse. For how unjust 
 is it, if when we allow different recreations to each par- 
 ticular course of life, we afford no diversion to studies ; 
 especially when trifles may be a whet to more serious 
 thoughts, and comical matters may be so treated of, as 
 that a reader of ordinary sense may possibly thence reap 
 more advantage than from some more big and stately 
 argument : as while one in a long-winded oration des- 
 cants in commendation of rhetoric or philosophy, another 
 in a fulsome harangue sets forth the praise of his nation, 
 a third makes a zealous invitation to a holy war with the 
 Turks, another confidently sets up for a fortune-teller, 
 and a fifth states questions upon mere impertinences. 
 But as nothing is more childish than to handle a serious 
 subject in a loose, wanton style, so is there nothing more 
 pleasant than to so treat of trifles, as to make them seem 
 nothing less than what their name imports. As to what 
 relates to myself, I must be forced to submit to the 
 judgment of others ; yet, except I am too partial to be a 
 judge in my own case, I am apt to believe I have praised 
 Folly in such a manner as not to have deserved the name 
 of fool for my pains. 
 
 To reply now to the objection of satiricalness, wits 
 have been always allowed this privilege, that they might 
 be smart upon any transactions of life, if so be their lib- 
 erty did not extend to railing ; which makes me wonder 
 at the tender-eared humor of this age, which will admit 
 no address without the prefatory repetition of all formal
 
 XX11 EPISTLE TO SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 titles ; nay, you may find some so preposterously devout, 
 that they will sooner wink at the greatest affront against 
 our Saviour, than be content that a prince, or a pope, 
 should be nettled with the least joke or gird, especially 
 in what relates to their ordinary customs. But he who 
 so blames men's irregularities as to lash at no one par- 
 ticular person by name, does he (I say) seem to carp so 
 properly as to teach and instruct? And if so, how am I 
 concerned to make any farther excuse ? Beside, he who 
 in his strictures points indifferently at all, he seems not 
 angry at one man, but at all vices. 
 
 Therefore, if any singly complain they are particularly 
 reflected upon, they do but betray their own guilt, at 
 least their cowardice. Saint Hierom dealt in the same 
 argument at a much freer and sharper rate ; nay, and he 
 did not sometimes refrain from naming the persons : 
 whereas I have not only stifled the mentioning any one 
 person, but have so tempered my style, as the ingenious 
 reader will easily perceive I aimed at diversion rather 
 than satire. Neither did I so far imitate Juvinal, as to 
 rake into the sink of vices to procure a laughter, rather 
 than create a hearty abhorrence. If there be any one 
 that after all remains yet unsatisfied, let him at least 
 consider that there may be good use made of being rep- 
 rehended by Folly, which since we have feigned as 
 speaking, we must keep up that character which is suit- 
 able to the person introduced. 
 
 But why do I trouble you, Sir, with this needless 
 apology, you that are so peculiar a patron ; as, though 
 the cause itself be none of the best, you can at least 
 give it the best protection. Farewell.
 
 ARGUMENT AND DESIGN OF THE 
 FOLLOWING ORATION. 
 
 WHATE'ER the modern satyrs o' th' stage, 
 To jerk the failures of a sliding age, 
 Have lavishly expos'd to public view, 
 For a discharge to all from envy due, 
 Here in as lively colors naked lie, 
 With equal wit and more of modesty, 
 Those poets, with their free disclosing arts, 
 Strip vice so near to its uncomely parts, 
 Their libels prove but lessons, and they teach, 
 Those very crimes which they intend t' impeach : 
 While here so wholesome all, tho' sharp t' th' taste, 
 So briskly free, yet so resolv'dly chaste ; 
 The virgin naked as her god of bows, 
 May read or hear when blood at highest flows ; 
 Nor more expense of blushes thence arise, 
 Than while the ledl'ring matron does advise 
 To guard her virtue, and her honor prize. 
 
 Satire and panegyric, distant be, 
 Yet jointly here they both in one agree. 
 The whole's a sacrifice of salt and fire ; 
 So does the humor of the age require, 
 To chafe the touch, and so foment desire. 
 As doctrine-dangling preachers lull asleep 
 Their unattentive pent-up fold of sheep ; 
 
 The opiated milk glues up the brain, 
 
 (xxiii)
 
 XXIV DESIGN OF THE FOLLOWING ORATION. 
 
 And th' babes of grace are in their cradles lain ; 
 
 While mounted Andrews, bawdy, bold, and loud, 
 
 Like cocks, alarm and fright the drowsy crowd, 
 
 Whose ample ears are prick'd as bolt upright, 
 
 As sailing hairs are hoisted in a fright. 
 
 So does it fare with croaking spawns o' th' press, 
 
 The mould o' th' subject alters the success ; 
 
 What's serious, like sleep, grants writs of ease, 
 
 Satire and ridicule can only please ; 
 
 As if no other animals could gape, 
 
 But the biting-badger, or the snick'ring ape. 
 
 Folly by irony's commended here, 
 Sooth'd, that her weakness may the more appear. 
 Thus fools, who trick'd, in red and yellow shine, 
 Are made believe that they are wondrous fine, 
 When all's a plot t' expose them by design. 
 
 The largesses of Folly here are strown 
 Like pebbles, not to pick, but trample on. 
 Thus Spartans laid their drunken slaves before 
 The boys, to jostle, kick, and tumble o'er : 
 Not that the dry-lipp'd youngsters might combine 
 To taste and know the mystery of wine, 
 But wonder thus at men transformed to swine ; 
 And th' power of such enchantment to escape, 
 Timely renounce the devil of the grape. 
 
 So here, 
 
 Though Folly speaker be, and argument, 
 Wit guides the tongue, wisdom's the Lecture meant.
 
 ERASMUS IN PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 An oration of feigned matter, spoken by FOLLY in 
 her own person. 
 
 HOW slightly soever I am esteemed in the common 
 vogue of the world, (for I well know how disin- 
 genuously Folly is decried, even by those who are them- 
 selves the greatest fools,) yet it is from my influence 
 alone that the whole universe receives her ferment of 
 mirth and jollity : of which this may be urged as a con- 
 vincing argument, in that as soon as I appeared to speak 
 before this numerous assembly, all their countenances 
 were gilded over with a lively sparkling pleasantness : 
 you soon welcomed me with so encouraging a look, you 
 spurred me on with so cheerful a hum, that truly in all 
 appearance, you seem now flushed with a good dose of 
 reviving nectar, when as just before you sate drowsy and 
 melancholy, as if you were lately come out of some her- 
 mit's cell. 
 
 But as it is usual, that as soon as the smT peeps 
 from her eastern bed, and draws back the curtains 
 of the darksome night ; or as when, after a hard winter, 
 the restorative spring breathes a more enlivening air, 
 nature forthwith changes her apparel, and all things 
 seem to renew their age ; so at the first sight of me you 
 
 all unmask, and appear in more lively colors. That 
 (25)
 
 26 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 therefore which expert orators can scarce effect by all 
 their little artifice of eloquence, to wit, securing the 
 attention of their auditors to a composedness of thought, 
 this a bare look from me has commanded. The reason 
 why I appear in this odd kind of garb, you shall soon be 
 informed of, if for so short a while you will have but the 
 patience to lend me an ear ; yet not such a one as you 
 are wont to hearken with to your reverend preachers, 
 but as you listen withal to mountebanks, buffoons and 
 merry-andrews ; in short, such as formerly were fastened 
 to Midas, as a punishment for his affront to the god 
 Pan. 
 
 For I am now in a humor to act awhile the sophist, 
 yet not of that sort who undertake the drudgery of 
 tyrannizing over school boys, and teach a more than 
 womanish knack of brawling ; but in imitation of those 
 ancient ones, who to avoid the scandalous epithet of 
 wise, preferred this title of sophists ; the task of these 
 was to celebrate the worth of gods and heroes. Prepare 
 therefore to be entertained with a panegyric, yet not 
 upon Hercules, Solon, or any other grandee, but on my- 
 self, that is, upon Folly. 
 
 And here I value not their censure that pretend it is 
 foppish and affected for any person to praise himself : 
 yet let it be as silly as they please, if they will but allow 
 it needful : and indeed what is more befiting than that 
 Folly should be the trumpet of her own praise, and 
 dance after her own pipe ? for who can set me forth 
 better than myself? or who can pretend to be so well 
 acquainted with my condition ? 
 
 And yet farther, I may safely urge, that all this is no
 
 Folly readily receives Attention.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 29 
 
 more than the same with what is done by several seem- 
 ingly great and wise men, who with a new-fashioned 
 modesty employ some paltry orator or scribbling poet, 
 whom they bribe to flatter them with some high-flown 
 character, that shall consist of mere lies and shams ; and 
 yet the persons thus extolled shall bristle up, and, 
 peacock -like, bespread their plumes, while the impudent 
 parasite magnifies the poor wretch to the skies, and 
 proposes him as a complete pattern of all virtues, from 
 each of which he is yet as far distant as heaven itself 
 from hell : what is all this in the mean while, but the 
 tricking up a daw in stolen feathers ; a laboring to 
 change the black-a-moor's hue, and the drawing on a 
 pigmy's frock over the shoulders of a giant. 
 
 L,astly, I verify the old observation, that allows him 
 a right of praising himself, who has nobody else to do it 
 for him : for really, I cannot but admire at that ingrati- 
 tude, shall I term it, or blockishness of mankind, who 
 when they all willingly pay to me their utmost devoir, 
 and freely acknowledge their respective obligations ; 
 that notwithstanding this, there should have been none 
 so grateful or complaisant as to have bestowed on me a 
 commendatory oration, especially when there have not 
 been wanting such as at a great expense of sweat, and 
 loss of sleep, have in elaborate speeches, given high 
 encomiums to tyrants, agues, flies, baldness and such 
 like trumperies. 
 
 I shall entertain you with'a hasty and unpremeditated, 
 but so much the more natural discourse. My venting it 
 ex tempore^ I would not have you think proceeds from 
 any principles of vain glory by which ordinary orators
 
 30 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 square their attempts, who (as it is easy to observe) 
 when they are delivered of a speech that has been thirty 
 years a conceiving, nay, perhaps at last none of their 
 own, yet they will swear they wrote it in a great hurry, and 
 upon very short warning : whereas the reason of my not 
 being provided beforehand is only because it was always 
 my humor constantly to speak that which lies upper- 
 most. Next, let no one be so fond as to imagine, that I 
 should so far stint my invention to the method of other 
 pleaders, as first to define, and then divide my subject, 
 i.e. y myself. For it is equally hazardous to attempt the 
 crowding her within the narrow limits of a definition, 
 whose nature is of so diffusive an extent, or to mangle 
 and disjoin that, to the adoration whereof all nations 
 unitedly concur. Beside, to what purpose is it to lay 
 down a definition for a faint resemblance, and mere 
 shadow of me, while appearing here personally, you 
 may view me in a more certain light? and if your eye- 
 sight fail not, you may at first blush discern me to be 
 her whom the Greeks term Moapla, the Latins stultitia. 
 
 But why need I have been so impertinent as to have 
 told you this, as if my very looks did not sufficiently 
 betray what I am ; or supposing any be so credulous as 
 to take me for some sage matron or goddess of wisdom, 
 as if a single glance from me would not immediately 
 correct their mistake, while my visage, the exact reflex 
 of my soul, would supply and supersede the trouble of 
 any other confessions ; for I appear always in my natural 
 colors, and an unartificial dress, and never let my face 
 pretend one thing, and my heart conceal another ; nay, 
 and in all things I am so true to my principles, that I
 
 The Physician.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 33 
 
 cannot be so much as counterfeited, even by those who 
 challenge the name of wits, yet indeed are no better 
 than jackanapes tricked up in gawdy clothes, and asses 
 strutting in lions' skins ; and how cunningly soever 
 they carry it, their long ears appear, and betray what 
 they are. These in troth are very rude and disingenuous, 
 for while they apparently belong to my party, yet among 
 the vulgar they are so ashamed of my relation, as to cast 
 it in others' dish for a shame and reproach : wherefore 
 since they are so eager to be accounted wise, when in 
 truth they are extremely silly, what, if to give them 
 their due, I dub them with the title of wise fools : and 
 herein they copy after the example of some modern 
 orators, who swell to that proportion of conceitedness, 
 as to vaunt themselves for so many giants of eloquence, 
 if with a double-tongued fluency they can plead indiffer- 
 ently for either side, and deem it a very doughty exploit 
 if they can but interlard a I/atin sentence with some 
 Greek word, which for seeming garnish they crowd in 
 at a venture ; and rather than be at a stand for some 
 cramp words, they will furnish up a long scroll of old 
 obsolete terms out of some musty author, and foist them 
 in to amuse the reader with, that those who understand 
 them may be tickled with the happiness of being ac- 
 quainted with them : and those who understand them 
 not, the less they know the more they may admire ; 
 whereas it has been always a custom to those of our side 
 to contemn and undervalue whatever is strange and un- 
 usual, while those that are better conceited of themselves 
 will nod and smile, and prick up their ears, that they 
 may be thought easily to apprehend that, of which per-
 
 34 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 haps they do not understand one word. And so much 
 for this ; pardon the digression, now I return. 
 
 Of my name I have informed you, Sirs ; what addi- 
 tional epithet to give you I know not, except you will 
 be content with that of most foolish ; for under what 
 more proper appellation can the goddess Folly greet her 
 devotees ? But since there are few acquainted with my 
 family and origin, I will now give you some account of 
 my extraction. 
 
 First then, my father was neither the chaos, nor hell, 
 nor Saturn, nor Jupiter, nor any of those old, worn out, 
 grandsire gods, but Plutus, the very same that, maugre 
 Homer, Hesiod, nay, in spite of Jove himself, was the 
 primary father of the universe ; at whose beck alone, for 
 all ages, religion and civil policy have been successively 
 undermined and re-established by whose powerful in- 
 fluence war, peace, empire, debates, justice, magistracy, 
 marriage, leagues, compacts, laws, arts, (I have almost 
 run myself out of breath,) but in a word, all affairs of 
 church and state, and business of private concern, are 
 severally ordered and administered ; without whose 
 assistance all the Poets' gang of deities, nay, I may be 
 so bold as to say the very major-domos of heaven, would 
 either dwindle into nothing, or at least be confined to 
 their respective homes without any ceremonies of devo- 
 tional address. Whoever he combats with as an enemy, 
 nothing can be armor-proof against his assaults ; and 
 whosoever he sides with as a friend, may grapple at even 
 hand with Jove, and all his bolts. Of such a father I 
 may well brag ; and he begot me, not of his brain, as 
 Jupiter did the hag Pallas, but of a pretty young nymph,
 
 The Harp and the Ass.

 
 The Wise Father and Foolish Son.
 
 Jove and his Nurse.
 
 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 43 
 
 famed for wit no less than beauty: and this feat was not 
 done amidst the embraces of dull nauseous wedlock, but 
 what gave a greater gust to the pleasure, it was done at a 
 stolen bout, as we may modestly phrase it. But to pre- 
 vent your mistaking me, I would have you understand 
 that my father was not that Plutus in Aristophanes, old, 
 dry, withered, sapless and blind ; but the same in his 
 younger and brisker days, and when his veins were more 
 impregnated, and the heat of his youth somewhat higher 
 inflamed by a chirping cup of nectar, which for a whet 
 to his lust he had just before drank very freely of at a 
 merry-meeting of the gods. And now presuming you 
 may be inquisitive after my birth-place (the quality of 
 the place we are born in, being now looked upon as a 
 main ingredient of gentility). I was born neither in the 
 floating Delo's, nor on the frothy sea, nor in any of these 
 privacies, where too forward mothers are wont to retire 
 for an undiscovered delivery ; but in the fortune islands, 
 where all things grow without the toil of husbandry, 
 wherein there is no drudgery, no distempers, no old age, 
 where in the fields grow no daffodills, mallows, onions, 
 pease, beans, or such kind of trash, but there give equal 
 divertisement to our sight and smelling, rue, all-heal, 
 bugloss, marjoram, herb of life, roses, violets, hyacinths, 
 and such like fragrances as perfume the gardens of 
 Adonis. And being born amongst these delights, I did 
 not, like other infants, come crying into the world, but 
 perked up, and laughed immediately in my mother's 
 face. And there is no reason I should envy Jove for 
 having a she-goat for his nurse, since I was more credit- 
 ably suckled by two jolly nymphs ; the name of the first
 
 44 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 drunkenness, one of Bacchus' s offspring, the other igno- 
 rance, the daughter of Pan ; both which you may here 
 behold among several others of my train and attendants, 
 whose particular names, if you would feign know, I will 
 give you in short. This, who goes with a mincing gait, 
 and holds up her head so high, is Self-L/ove. She that 
 looks so spruce, and makes such a noise and bustle, is 
 Flattery. That other, which sits hum-drum, as if she 
 were half asleep, is called Forgetfulness. She that leans 
 on her elbow, and sometimes yawningly stretches out 
 her arms, is Laziness. This, that wears a plaited gar- 
 land of flowers, and smells so perfumed, is Pleasure. 
 The other, which appears in so smooth a skin, and 
 pampered-up flesh, is Sensuality. She that stares so 
 wildly, and rolls about her eyes, is Madness. As to 
 those two gods whom you see playing among the lasses, 
 the name of the one is Intemperance, the other Sound 
 Sleep. By the help and service of this retinue I bring 
 all things under the verge of my power, lording it over 
 the greatest kings and potentates. 
 
 You have now heard of my descent, my education, 
 and my attendance; that I may not be taxed as pre- 
 sumptuous in borrowing the title of a goddess, I come 
 now in the next place to acquaint you what obliging 
 favors I everywhere bestow, and how largely my juris- 
 diction extends : for if, as one has ingenuously noted, to 
 be a god is no other than to be a benefactor to mankind ; 
 and they have been thought deservedly deified who have 
 invented the use of wine, corn, or any other convenience 
 for the well-being of mortals, why may not I justly bear 
 the van among the whole troop of gods, who in all, and
 
 The Birth of Folly.
 
 King Solomon.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 51 
 
 toward all, exert an unparalleled bounty and benefi- 
 cence ? 
 
 For instance, in the first place, what can be more dear 
 and precious than life itself? and yet for this are none 
 beholden, save to me alone. 
 
 For it is neither the spear of thoroughly-begotten 
 Pallas, nor the buckler of cloud-gathering Jove, that 
 rrmltiplies and propagates mankind, but that prime 
 father of the universe, who at a displeasing nod makes 
 heaven itself to tremble, he (I say) must lay aside 
 his frightful ensigns of majesty, and put away that 
 grim aspect wherewith he makes the other gods to 
 quake, and, stage player-like, must lay aside his usual 
 character, if he would do that, the doing whereof 
 he cannot refrain from, i.e., getting of children. The 
 next place to the gods is challenged by the Stoics ; but 
 give me one as stoical as ill-nature can make him, and 
 if I do not prevail on him to part with his beard, that 
 bush of wisdom, (though no other ornament than what 
 nature in more ample manner has given to goats,) yet 
 at least he shall lay by his gravity, smooth up his brow, 
 relinquish his rigid tenets, and in despite of prejudice 
 become sensible of some passion in wanton sport and 
 dallying. 
 
 In a word, this dictator of wisdom shall be glad 
 to take Folly for his diversion, if ever he would 
 arrive to the honor of a father. 
 
 Add to this, what man would be so silly as to run 
 his head into the collar of a matrimonial noose, if 
 (as wise men are wont to do) he had before-hand 
 duly considered the inconveniences of a wedded life?
 
 52 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 Or indeed what woman would open her arms to 
 receive the embraces of a husband, if she did but fore- 
 cast the pangs of child-birth, and the plague of being a 
 nurse ? 
 
 Since, then, you owe your birth to the bride-bed, 
 and (what was preparatory to that) the solemnizing 
 of marriage to my waiting woman Madness, you can- 
 not but acknowledge how much you are indebted 
 to me. 
 
 Beside, those who had once dearly bought the experi- 
 ence of their folly, would never re-engage themselves in 
 the same entanglement by a second match, if it were 
 not occasioned by the forgetfulness of past dangers. 
 And Venus herself (whatever Lucretius pretends to the 
 contrary), cannot deny, but that without my assistance, 
 her procreative power would prove weak and in- 
 effectual. 
 
 It was from my sportive and tickling recreation that 
 proceeded the old crabbed philosophers, and those who 
 now supply their stead, the mortified monks and friars ; 
 as also kings, priests, and popes, nay, the whole tribe 
 of poetic gods, who are at last grown so numerous, 
 as in the camp of heaven (though ne'er so spacious), 
 to jostle for elbow room. 
 
 But it is not sufficient to make it appear that I am the 
 source and origin of all life, except that I likewise show 
 that all the benefits of life are equally at my disposal. 
 And what are they ? 
 
 Why, can any one be said properly to live to whom 
 pleasure is denied ? 
 
 You will give me your assent ; for there is none I
 
 The Matrimonial Noose.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 55 
 
 know among you so wise shall I say, or so silly, as to 
 be of a contrary opinion. 
 
 The Stoics indeed contemn, and pretend to banish pleas- 
 ure ; but this is only a dissembling trick, and a putting 
 the vulgar out of conceit with it, that they may more 
 quietly engross it to themselves : but I dare them now 
 to confess what one stage of life is not melancholy, dull, 
 tiresome, tedious, and uneasy, unless we spice it with 
 pleasure, that haut-gout of Folly. Of the truth whereof 
 the never enough to be commended Sophocles is suffi- 
 cient authority, who gives me the highest character in 
 that sentence of his, 
 
 To know nothing is the sweetest life. 
 
 Yet abating from this, let us examine the case more 
 narrowly. Who knows not that the first scene of infancy 
 is far the most pleasant and delightsome ? What then is 
 it in children that makes us so kiss, hug, and play with 
 them, and that the bloodiest enemy can scarce have the 
 heart to hurt them ; but their innocence and Folly, of 
 which nature out of providence did purposely compound 
 and blend their tender infancy, that by a frank return 
 of pleasure they might make some sort of amends for 
 their parents' trouble, and give in caution as it were for 
 the discharge of a future education ; the next advance 
 from childhood is youth, and how favorably is this dealt 
 with ; how kind, courteous, and respectful are all to it ? 
 and how ready to become serviceable upon all occasions ? 
 And whence reaps it this happiness ? Whence indeed, 
 but from me only, by whose procurement it is furnished 
 with little of wisdom, and so with the less of disquiet ? 
 And when once lads begin to grow up, and attempt to
 
 56 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 write man, their prettiness does then soon decay, their 
 briskness flags, their humors stagnate, their jollity 
 ceases, and their blood grows cold ; and the farther they 
 proceed in years, the more they grow backward in the 
 enjoyment of themselves, till waspish old age comes on, 
 a burden to itself as well as others, and that so heavy 
 and oppressive, as none would bear the weight of, unless 
 out of pity to their sufferings. I again intervene, and 
 lend a helping-hand, assisting them at a dead lift, in the 
 same method the poets feign their gods to succor dying 
 men, by transforming them into new creatures, which I 
 do by bringing them back, after they have one foot in 
 the grave, to their infancy again ; so as there is a great 
 deal of truth couched in that old proverb, Once an old 
 man and twice a child. 
 
 Now if any one be curious to understand what course 
 I take to effect this alteration, my method is this : I 
 bring them to my well of forgetfulness, (the fountain 
 whereof is in the Fortunate Islands, and the river Teethe 
 in hell but a small stream of it), and when they have 
 there filled their bellies full, and washed down care, by 
 the virtue and operation whereof they become young 
 again. Ay, but (say you) they merely dote, and play 
 the fool : why yes, this is what I mean by growing 
 young again : for what else is it to be a child than to be 
 a fool and an idiot ? It is the being such that makes 
 that age so acceptable : for who does not esteem it some- 
 what ominous to see a boy endowed with the discretion 
 of a man, and therefore for the curbing of too forward 
 parts we have a disparaging proverb, Soon ripe, soon 
 rotten ? And farther, who would keep company or have
 
 The Schoolmaster,
 
 THE PRAISE OK FOLLY. 59 
 
 any thing to do with such an old blade, as, after the 
 wear and harrowing of so many years should yet con- 
 tinue of as clear a head and sound a judgment as he had 
 at any time been in his middle-age ; and therefore it is 
 great kindness of me that old men grow fools, since it is 
 hereby only that they are freed from such vexations as 
 would torment them if they were more wise : they can 
 drink briskly, bear up stoutly, and lightly pass over 
 such infirmities, as a far stronger constitution could 
 scarce master. Sometimes, with the old fellow in Plautus, 
 they are brought back to their horn-book again, to learn 
 to spell their fortune in love. Most wretched would 
 they needs be if they had but wit enough to be sensible 
 of their hard condition ; but by my assistance, they car- 
 ry off all well, and to their respective friends approve 
 themselves good, sociable, jolly companions. Thus 
 Homer makes aged Nestor famed for a smooth oily- 
 tongued orator, while the deliver}' of Achilles was but 
 rough, harsh, and hesitant; and the same poet elsewhere 
 tells us of old men that sate on the walls, and spake 
 with a great deal of flourish and elegance. And in this 
 point indeed they surpass and outgo children, who are 
 pretty forward in a softly, innocent prattle, but other- 
 wise are too much tongue-tied, and want the other's most 
 acceptable embellishment of a perpetual talkativeness. 
 Add to this, that old men love to be playing with 
 children, and children delight as much in them, to verify 
 the proverb, that Birds of a feather flock together. And 
 indeed what difference can be discerned between them, 
 but that the one is more furrowed with wrinkles, and has 
 seen a little more of the world than the other? For
 
 60 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 otherwise their whitish hair, their want of teeth, their 
 smallness of stature, their milk diet, their bald crowns, 
 their prattling, their playing, their short memory, their 
 heedlessness, and all their other endowments, exactly 
 agree ; and the more they advance in years, the nearer 
 they come back to their cradle, till like children indeed, 
 at last they depart the world, without any remorse at the 
 loss of life, or sense of the pangs of death. 
 
 And now let any one compare the excellency of my 
 metamorphosing power to that which Ovid attributes to 
 the gods ; their strange feats in some drunken passions 
 we will omit for their credit sake, and instance only in 
 such persons as they pretend great kindness for ; these 
 they transformed into trees, birds, insects, and some- 
 times serpents ; but alas, their very change into some- 
 what else argues the destruction of what they were 
 before ; whereas I can restore the same numerical man 
 to his pristine state of youth, health and strength ; yea, 
 what is more, if men would but so far consult their own 
 interest, as to discard all thoughts of wisdom, and en- 
 tirely resign themselves to my guidance and conduct, 
 old age should be a paradox, and each man's years a per- 
 petual spring. For look how your hard plodding 
 students, by a close sedentary confinement to their 
 books, grow mopish, pale, and meagre, as if by a con- 
 tinual wrack of brains, and torture of invention, their 
 veins were pumped dry, and their whole body squeezed 
 sapless ; whereas my followers are smooth, plump, and 
 bucksome, and altogether as lusty as so many bacon- 
 hogs, or sucking calves ; never in their career of pleasure 
 to be arrested with old age, if they could but keep them'
 
 Suspicion.
 
 Momos Thrust out of Heaven.
 
 Scribes and Pharisees.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 65 
 
 selves untainted from the contagiousness of wisdom, 
 with the leprosy whereof, if at any time they are in- 
 fected, it is only for prevention, lest they should otherwise 
 have been too happy. 
 
 For a more ample confirmation of the truth of what 
 foregoes, it is on all sides confessed, that Folly is the 
 best preservative of youth, and the most effectual anti- 
 dote against age, and it is a never-failing observation 
 made of the people of Brabant, that, contrary to the 
 proverb of Older and wiser, the more ancient they 
 grow, the more foolish they are ; and there is not any 
 one country, whose inhabitants enjoy themselves better, 
 and rub through the world with more ease and quiet. 
 To these are nearly related, as well by affinity of customs 
 as of neighborhood, my friends, the Hollanders. Mine, I 
 may well call them, for they stick so close and lovingly 
 to me, that they are styled fools to a pro verb, and yet scorn 
 to be ashamed of their name. Well, let fond mortals go 
 now in a needless quest of some enchanted fountain, for 
 a restorative of age, whereas the accurate performance of 
 this feat lies only within the ability of my art and skill. 
 
 It is I only who have the receipt of making that liquor 
 wherewith Memnon's daughter lengthened out her 
 grandfather's declining days. It is I that am that Venus, 
 who so far restored the languishing Phaon, as to make 
 Sappho fall deeply in love with his beauty. Mine are 
 those herbs, mine those charms, that not only lure back 
 swift time, when past and gone, but what is more to be 
 admired, clip its wings, and prevent all further flight. 
 So then, if you will all agree to my verdict, that nothing 
 is more desirable than the being young, nor anything
 
 66 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 more dreaded than unavoidable old age, you must needs 
 acknowledge it as an indisputable obligation from me, 
 for fencing off the one, and perpetuating the other. 
 
 But why should I confine my discourse to the nar- 
 row subject of mankind only ? View the whole mytho- 
 logical heaven itself, and then tell me which one of that 
 divine tribe would not be mean and dispicable, if my 
 name did not lend him some respect and authority. 
 Why is Bacchus always painted as a young man, but 
 only because he is freakish, drunk, and mad ; and spend- 
 ing his time in toping, dancing, masking, and reveling, 
 seems to have nothing in the least to do with wisdom? 
 Nay, so far is he from the affectation of being accounted 
 wise, that he is content that all the rights of devotion 
 which are paid unto him should consist of apishness and 
 drollery. Farther, what scoffs and jeers did the old co- 
 medians throw upon him? O swinish god, say they, 
 that smells of the sty he was reared in, and so on. But 
 prithee, who in this case, always merry, youthful, soaked 
 in wine and drowned in pleasure, who, I say, in such a 
 case, would change conditions, either with the lofty 
 menace-looking Jove, the grave, yet timorous Pan, the 
 stately Pallas, or indeed any other one of heaven's land- 
 lords ? Why is Cupid feigned as a boy, but only because 
 he is an under-witted whipster, that neither acts nor 
 thinks any thing with discretion ? Why is Venus adored 
 for the mirror of beauty, but only because she and I 
 claim kindred, she being of the same complexion with 
 my father Plutus, and therefore called by Homer the 
 Golden Goddess? Beside, she imitates me in being 
 always a laughing, if either we believe the poets, or their
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 69 
 
 near kinsman the painters, the first mentioning, the 
 other drawing her constantly in that posture. Add 
 farther to what deity did the Romans pay a more cere- 
 monial respect than to Flora, that bawd of obscenity ? 
 And if any one search the poets for an historical account 
 of the gods, he shall find them all famous for lewd 
 pranks and debaucheries. It is needless to insist upon 
 the miscarriages of others, when the lecherous intrigues 
 of Jove himself are so notorious, and when the pretend- 
 edly chaste Diana so oft uncloaked her modesty to run 
 a hunting after her beloved Endimion. But I will say 
 no more, for I had rather they should be told of their 
 faults by Momus, who was want formerly to sting them 
 with some close reflections, till nettled by his abusive 
 raillery, they kicked him out of heaven for his sauciness 
 of daring to reprove such as were beyond correction ; and 
 now in his banishment from heaven he finds but cold 
 entertainment here on earth, nay, is denied all admit- 
 tance into the court of princes, where notwithstanding 
 my handmaid Flattery finds a most encouraging wel- 
 come : but this petulent monitor being thrust out of 
 doors, the gods can now more freely rant and revel, and 
 take their whole swing of pleasure. Now the beastly 
 Priappus may recreate himself without contradiction in 
 lust and filthiness ; now the sly Mercury may, without 
 discovery, go on in his thieveries, and nimble-fingered 
 juggles ; the sooty Vulcan may now renew his wonted 
 custom of making the other gods laugh by his hopping 
 so limpingly, and coming off with so many dry jokes 
 and biting repartees. Silenus, the old doting lover, to 
 show his activity, may now dance a frisking jig, and the
 
 70 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 nymphs be at the same sport quite naked. The goatish 
 satyrs may make up a merry ball, and Pan, the blind 
 harper, may put up his bagpipes and sing bawdy catches, 
 to which the gods, especially when they are almost 
 drunk, shall give a most profound attention. But why 
 should I any farther rip open and expose the weakness 
 of the gods, a weakness so childish and absurd, that no 
 man can at the same time keep his countenance and 
 make a relation of it? Now therefore, like Homer's 
 wandering muse, I will take my leave of heaven, and 
 come down again here below, where we shall find noth- 
 ing happy, nay, nothing tolerable, without my presence 
 and assistance. And in the first place consider how 
 providently nature has taken care that in all her works 
 there should be some piquant smack and relish of Foil}- : 
 for since the Stoics define wisdom to be conducted by 
 reason, and folly nothing else but the being hurried by 
 passion, lest our life should otherwise have been too dull 
 and inactive, that creator, who out of clay first tempered 
 and made us up, put into the composition of our human- 
 ity more than a pound of passions to an ounce of reason; 
 and reason he confined within the narrow cells of 
 the brain, whereas he left passions the whole body to 
 range in. 
 
 Farther, he set up two sturdy champions to stand 
 perpetually on guard, that reason might make no assault, 
 surprise, nor inroad ; anger, which keeps its station in 
 the fortress of the heart ; and lust, which like the signs 
 Virgo and Scorpio, rules the appetites and passions. 
 
 Against the forces of these two warriors how unable is 
 reason to bear up and withstand, every day's experience
 
 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 73 
 
 doth abundantly witness ; while let reason be never so 
 importunate in urging and reinforcing her admonitions 
 to virtue, yet the passions bear all before them, and by 
 the least offer of curb or restraint grow but more impe- 
 ri6us, till reason itself, for quietness sake, is forced to 
 desist from all further remonstrance. 
 
 But because it seemed expedient that man, who was 
 born for the transaction of business, should have so much 
 wisdom as should fit and capacitate him for the discharge 
 of his duty herein, and yet lest such a measure as is 
 requisite for this purpose might prove too dangerous and 
 fatal, I was advised with for an antidote, who prescribed 
 this infallible receipt of taking a wife, a creature so harm- 
 less and silly, and yet so useful and convenient, as might 
 mollify and make pliable the stiffness and morose humor 
 of man. Now that which made Plato doubt under what 
 genus to rank woman, whether among brutes or rational 
 creatures, was only meant to denote the extreme stupid- 
 ness and Folly of that sex, a sex so unalterably simple, 
 that for any of them to thrust forward, and reach at the 
 name of wise, is but to make themselves the more re- 
 markable fools, such an endeavor, being but a swimming 
 against the stream, nay, the turning the course of nature, 
 the bare attempting whereof is as extravagant as the 
 effecting of it is impossible : for as it is a trite proverb, 
 That an ape will be an ape, though clad in purple : so a 
 woman will be a woman, i. e. , a fool, whatever disguise 
 she takes up. And yet there is no reason woman should 
 take it amiss to be thus charged ; for if they do but 
 rightly consider, they will find it is to Folly they are 
 beholden for those endowments wherein they so far sur-
 
 74 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 pass and excel man; as first, for their unparalleled beauty, 
 by the charm whereof they tyrannize over the greatest 
 tyrants ; for what is it but too great a portion of wisdom 
 that makes men so tawny and thick-skinned, so rough 
 and prickly-bearded, like an emblem of winter or old 
 age, while women have such dainty smooth cheeks, such 
 a low, gentle voice, and so pure a complexion, as if 
 nature had drawn them for a standing pattern of all sym- 
 metry and comeliness? Beside, what greater or juster 
 aim and ambition have they than to please their hus- 
 bands? In order whereunto they garnish themselves 
 with paint, washes, curls, perfumes, and all other mys- 
 teries of ornament ; yet after all they become acceptable 
 to them only for their Folly. Wives are always allowed 
 their humor, yet it is only in exchange for titillation and 
 pleasure, which indeed are but other names for Folly, 
 as none can deny, who consider how a man must hug, 
 and dandle, and caress, and play a hundred little tricks 
 to please, interest and amuse his mistress. 
 
 But now some blood-chilled old men, that are more 
 for wine than wenching, will pretend, that in their 
 opinion the greatest happiness consists in feasting and 
 drinking. Grant it be so ; yet certainly in the most 
 luxurious entertainments it is Folly must give the sauce 
 and relish to the daintiest cates and delicacies ; so that 
 if there be not one of the guests naturally fool enough to 
 be played upon by the rest, they must procure some 
 comical buffoon, that by his jokes, and flouts, and blun- 
 ders, shall make the whole company split themselves with 
 laughing : for to what purpose were it to be stuffed and 
 crammed with so many dainty bits, savory dishes, and
 
 Youth and Old Age the Matrimonial Chain.
 
 The Logician.
 
 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 79 
 
 toothsome rarities, if after all this epicurism of the belly, 
 the eyes, the ears and the whole mind of man, were not 
 as well fostered and relieved with laughing, jesting, and 
 such like divertisements, which like second courses 
 serve for the promoting of digestion? And as to all 
 those shooing horns of drunkenness, the keeping every 
 one his man, the throwing hey -jinks, the filling of bum- 
 pers, the drinking two in a hand, the beginning of 
 mistress' healths ; and then the roaring out of drunken 
 catches, the calling in a fiddler, the leading out every 
 one his lady to dance, and such like riotous pastimes, 
 these were not taught or dictated by any of the wise men 
 of Greece, but of Gotham rather, being my invention, 
 and by me prescribed as the best preservative of health : 
 each of which, the more ridiculous it is, the more wel- 
 come it finds. And indeed, to jog sleepingly through 
 the world, in a dumpish melancholy posture, cannot 
 properly be said to live, but to be wound up as it were 
 in a winding-sheet before we are dead, and so to be 
 shuffled quick into a grave, and buried alive. 
 
 But there are yet others perhaps that have no gust in 
 this sort of pleasure, but place their greatest content in 
 the enjoyment of friends, telling us that true friendship 
 is to be preferred before all other acquirements; that it is 
 a thing so useful and necessary, as the very elements, 
 which could not long subsist without a natural combina- 
 tion ; so pleasant that it affords as warm an influence as 
 the sun itself ; so honest (if honesty in this case deserve 
 any consideration), that the very philosophers have not 
 hesitated to place this as one among the rest of their 
 different sentiments of the chiefest good. But what if I
 
 80 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 make it appear that I also am the main spring and orig- 
 inal of this endearment ? Yes, I can easily demonstrate 
 it, and that not by crabbed syllogisms, or a crooked and 
 unintelligible way of arguing, but can make it (as the 
 proverb %QZ.S) As plain as the nose on your face. Well 
 then, to scratch and curry one another, to wink at a 
 friend's faults ; nay, to cry up some failings as virtuous 
 and commendable, is not this the next door to the being 
 a fool? When one looking steadfastly in his mistress's 
 face, admires a mole as much as a beauty spot ; when 
 another swears his lady's stinking breath is a most redo- 
 lent perfume ; and at another time the fond parent hugs 
 the squint-eyed child, and pretends it is rather a becom- 
 ing glance and winning aspect than any blemish of the 
 eye-sight, what is all this but the very height of Folly? 
 Folly, I say, that both makes friends and keeps them so. 
 
 I speak of mortal men only, among whom there are 
 none but have some small faults ; he is most happy that 
 has fewest. If we pass to the gods, we shall find that 
 they have so much of wisdom, that they have very little 
 of friendship ; nay, nothing of that which is true and 
 hearty. 
 
 The reason why men make a greater improvement in 
 this virtue, is only because they are more credulous and 
 easy natured ; for friends must be of the same humor 
 and inclinations too, or else the league of amity, though 
 made with never so many protestations, will soon be 
 broken. Thus grave and morose men seldom prove fast 
 friends ; they are too captious and consorious, and will 
 not bear with one another's infirmities ; they are as 
 eagle-sighted as may be in the espial of others' faults,
 
 The Plague of being a Nurse.
 
 THE PRAISE OF .FOLLY. 83 
 
 while they wink upon themselves, and never mind the 
 beam in their own eyes. In short, man being by nature 
 so prone to frailties, so humorsome and cross-grained, 
 and guilty of so many slips and miscarriages, there could 
 be no firm friendship contracted, except there be such 
 an allowance made for each other's defaults which the 
 Greeks term 'Evrfleia, and which we may construe good na- 
 ture, which is but another word for Folly. And what ? Is 
 not Cupid, that first father of all relation, is not he stark 
 blind, and that as he cannot himself distinguish between 
 colors, so he would make us as mope-eyed in judging 
 falsely of all love concerns, and wheedle us into thinking 
 that we are always in the right ? Thus every Jack sticks 
 to his own Jill ; every tinker esteems his own trull ; and 
 the hob-nailed suitor prefers Joan, the milk-maid, before 
 any of my lady's daughters. These things are true, and 
 are ordinarily laughed at, and yet, however ridiculous 
 they seem, it is hence only that all societies receive their 
 cement and consolidation. 
 
 The same which has been said of friendship is much 
 more applicable to a state of marriage, which is but the 
 highest advance and improvement of friendship in the 
 closest bond of union. Good God ! What frequent 
 divorces or worse mischief would oft sadly happen, 
 were it not that man and wife were so discreet as to pass 
 over light occasions of quarrel with laughing, jesting, 
 dissembling, and such like playing the fool ? Nay, how 
 few matches would go forward, if the hasty lover did but 
 first know how many little tricks of lust and wantonness 
 (and perhaps more gross failings) his coy and seemingly 
 bashful mistress had oft been guilty of? And how few
 
 84 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 marriages, when consummated, would continue happy, 
 if the husband were not either sottishly insensible of, or 
 did not purposely wink at and pass over the lightness 
 and forwardness of his good-natured wife ? This peace 
 and quietness is owing to my management, for there 
 would otherwise be continual jars, and broils, and mad 
 doings, if want of wit only did not at the same time 
 make a contented cuckold and a still house. If the 
 cuckoo sings at the back door, the unthinking cornute 
 takes no notice of the unlucky omen, of others' eggs 
 being laid in his own nest, but laughs it over, kisses his 
 dear spouse, and all is well. 
 
 And indeed, it is much better patiently to be such a hen- 
 pecked frigot, than always to be wracked and tortiired 
 with the grating surmises of suspicion and jealousy. In 
 fine, there is not one society, nor one relation men stand 
 in, that would be comfortable, or indeed tolerable, with- 
 out my assistance. There could be no right understand- 
 ing betwixt prince and people, master and servant, tutor 
 and pupil, friend and friend, man and wife, buyer and 
 seller, or any persons however otherwise related, if they 
 did not cowardly put up with small abuses, sneakingly 
 cringe and submit, or after all fawningly caress and flat- 
 ter each other. 
 
 This you will say is much, but you shall yet hear 
 what is more : tell me then, can any one love another 
 that first hates himself? Is it likely any one should 
 agree with a friend that has first fallen out with his own 
 judgment? Or is it probable he should be any way 
 pleasing to another, who is a perpetual plague and 
 trouble to himself? This is such a paradox that none
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 85 
 
 can be so mad as to maintain. Well, but if I am ex- 
 cluded and barred out, every man would be so far from 
 being able to bear with others, that he would be bur- 
 thensome to himself, and consequently incapable of any 
 ease or satisfaction. Nature, that toward some of her 
 products plays the step-mother rather than the indulgent 
 parent, has endowed some men with that unhappy pee- 
 vishness of disposition, as to nauseate and dislike what- 
 ever is their own, and much admire what belongs to 
 other persons, so as they cannot in any wise enjoy what 
 their birth or fortunes have bestowed upon them : for 
 what grace is there in the greatest beauty, if it be always 
 clouded with frowns and sullenness ? or what vigor in 
 youth, if it be harassed with a pettish, dogged, waspish, 
 ill humor ? None, whatever. Nor, indeed, can there be 
 any creditable acquirement of ourselves in any one 
 station of life, but we should sink without rescue into 
 misery and despair, if we were not buoyed up and sup- 
 ported by self-love, which is but the elder sister (as it 
 were) of Folly, and her own constant friend and assistant. 
 For what is or can be more silly than to be lovers and 
 admirers of ourselves ? And yet, if it were not so, there 
 would be no relish to any of our words or actions. Take 
 away this one attribute of a fool, and the orator shall 
 become as dumb aud silent as the rostrum he stands on ; 
 the musician shall hang up his untouched instruments 
 on the wall ; the greatest actors shall be hissed off the 
 stage; the poet shall be burlesqued with his own doggerel 
 rhymes ; the painter shall himself vanish into an imag- 
 inary landscape ; and the physician shall want food more 
 than his patients do physic. In short, without self-love,
 
 86 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 instead of beautiful, you shall think yourself an old bel- 
 dam of fourscore ; instead of youthful, you shall seem 
 just dropping into the grave ; instead of eloquent, a mere 
 stammerer ; and in lieu of being gentle and complaisant, 
 you shall appear like a downright country clown ; it 
 being so necessary that every one should think well of 
 themselves before they can expect the good opinion of 
 others. 
 
 Finally, when it is the main and essential part of hap- 
 piness to desire to be no other than what we already are, 
 this expedient is again wholly owing to self-love, which 
 so flushes men with a good conceit of their own, that no 
 one repents of his shape, of his wit, of his education, or 
 of his country ; thus the dirty, half drowned Hollander 
 would not remove into the pleasant plains of Italy, the 
 rude Thracian would not change his boggy soil for the 
 best location in Athens, nor the brutish Scythian quit 
 his thorny deserts to become an inhabitant of the Fortu- 
 nate Islands. And, oh! the wonderful contrivances of 
 nature, which has ordered all things in so even a method 
 that wherever she has been less bountiful in her gifts, 
 there she makes it up with a larger dose of self-love, 
 which supplies the former defects, and makes all equal. 
 
 To enlarge farther, I may well presume to aver, that 
 there are no considerable exploits performed, no useful 
 arts invented, but what I am the respective author and 
 manager of: as first, what is more lofty and heroical 
 than war ? and yet, what is more foolish than for some 
 petty, trivial affront, to take such a revenge as both sides 
 shall be sure to be losers, and where the quarrel must be 
 decided at the price of so many limbs and lives ? And
 
 The Fool in the Family.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 89 
 
 when they come to an engagement, what service can be 
 done by such pale-faced students, as by drudging at the 
 oars of wisdom, have spent all their strength and ac- 
 tivity ? No, the only use is of blunt sturdy fellows that 
 have little of wit, and so the more of resolution ; except 
 you would make a soldier of such another Demosthenes 
 as threw down his arms when he came within sight of 
 the enemy, and lost that credit in the camp which he 
 gained in the pulpit. But counsel, deliberation, and 
 advice, say you, are very necessary for the management 
 of war : very tme, but not such counsel as shall be pre- 
 scribed by the strict rules of wisdom and justice ; for a 
 battle shall be more successfully fought by serving-men, 
 porters, bailiffs, padders, rogues, gaol-birds, and such 
 like tag-rags of mankind, than by the most accomplished 
 philosophers ; which last, how unhappy they are in the 
 management of such concerns, Socrates, (by the oracle 
 adjudged to be the wisest of mortals), is a notable exam- 
 ple ; who when he appeared in the attempt of some pub- 
 lic performance before the people, he faltered in the first 
 onset, and could never recover himself, but was hooted 
 and hissed home again ; yet this philosopher was the less 
 a fool, for refusing the appellation of wise, and not ac- 
 cepting the oracle's compliment ; as also for advising that 
 no philosophers should have any hand in the govern- 
 ment of the commonwealth ; he should have likewise, at 
 the same time, added, they should be banished all human 
 society. And what made this great man poison himself 
 to prevent the malice of his accusers ? What made him 
 the instrument of his own death, but only his excessive- 
 ness of wisdom ? whereby, while he was searching into
 
 90 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 the nature of clouds, while he was plodding and con- 
 templating upon ideas, while he was exercising his 
 geometry upon the measure of a flea, and diving into the 
 recesses of nature, for an account how little insects, when 
 they were so small could make so great a buzz and hum : 
 while he was intent upon these fooleries he minded 
 nothing of the world, or its ordinary concerns. 
 
 Next to Socrates comes his scholar Plato, a famous 
 orator indeed, that could be so abashed out of counte- 
 nance by an illiterate rabble, as to demur, and hawk, 
 and hesitate, before he could get to the end of one short 
 sentence. Theophrastus was such another coward, who 
 beginning to make an oration, was presently struck down 
 with fear, as if he had seen some ghost or hobgoblin. 
 Isocrates was so bashful and timorous, that though he 
 taught rhetoric, yet he could never have the confidence 
 to speak in public. Cicero, the master of Roman elo- 
 quence, was wont to begin his speeches with a low, 
 quivering voice, just like a school-boy, afraid of not say- 
 ing his lesson perfect enough to escape whipping : and 
 yet Fabius commends this property of Tully as an argu- 
 ment of a considerate orator, sensible of the difficulty 
 of acquitting himself with credit : but what hereby does 
 he do more than plainly confess that wisdom is but ~ j 
 rub and impediment to the well management of any 
 affair? How would these heroes crouch, and shrink 
 into nothing, at the sight of drawn swords, that are thus 
 quashed and stunned at the delivery of bare words ? 
 
 Now, then, let Plato's fine sentence be cried up, that 
 "Jiappy are those commonwealths where either philoso- 
 phers are elected kings, or kings turn philosophers."
 
 Personifying a Prince.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 93 
 
 Alas, this is so far from being true, that if we consult 
 all historians for an account of past ages, we shall find 
 no princes more weak, nor any people more slavish and 
 wretched, than where the administration of affairs fell on 
 the shoulders of some learned bookish governor. Of the 
 truth whereof, the two Catos are exemplary instances : 
 the first of which embroiled the city, and tired out the 
 senate by his tedious harangues of defending himself 
 and accusing others ; the younger was the unhappy oc- 
 casion of the loss of the peoples' liberty, while by im- 
 proper methods he pretended to maintain it. To these 
 may be added Brutus, Cassius, the two Gracchi, and 
 Cicero himself, who was no less fatal to Rome, than his 
 parallel Demosthenes was to Athens : as likewise Marcus 
 Antoninus, whom we may allow to have been a good 
 emperor, yet the less such for his having been a philoso- 
 pher ; and certainly he did not do half the kindness to 
 his empire by his own prudent management of affairs, as 
 he did mischief by leaving such a degenerate successor 
 as his son Commodus proved to be ; but it is a com- 
 mon observation, that A wise father has many times a 
 foolish son, nature so contriving it, lest the taint of wis- 
 dom, like hereditary distempers, should otherwise de- 
 scend by propagation. Thus Tully's son Marcus, though 
 bred at Athens, proved but a dull, insipid soul ; and 
 Socrates, his children had (as one ingeniously expresses 
 it) "more of the mother than the father," a phrase for 
 their being fools. 
 
 However, it were the more excusable, though wise 
 men are so awkward and unhandy in the ordering of 
 public affairs, if they were not so bad, or worse in the
 
 94 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 management of their ordinary and domestic concerns ; 
 but alas, here they have much to seek : for place a for- 
 mal wise man at a feast, and he shall, either by his mo- 
 rose silence put the whole table out of humor, or by his 
 frivolous questions disoblige and tire out all that sit near 
 him. Call him out to dance, and he shall move no more 
 nimbly than a camel ; invite him to any public perform- 
 ance, and by his very looks he shall damp the mirth of 
 all the spectators, and at last be forced, like Cato, to 
 leave the theatre, because he could not unstarch his 
 gravity, and put on a more pleasant countenance. If he 
 engage in any discourse, he either breaks off abruptly, 
 or tires out the patience of the whole company if he 
 goes on. If he have any contract, sale, or purchase to 
 make, or any other worldly business to transact, he be- 
 haves himself more like a senseless stock than a rational 
 man ; so as he can be of no use nor advantage to himself, 
 to his friends, or to his country; because he knows noth- 
 ing how the world goes, and is wholly unacquainted 
 with the humor of the vulgar, who cannot but hate a 
 person so disagreeing in temper from themselves. 
 
 And indeed the whole proceedings of the world are 
 nothing but one continued scene of Folly, all the actors 
 being equally fools and madmen ; and therefore if any be 
 so pragmatically wise as to be singular, he must even 
 turn a second Timon, or man-hater, and by retiring into 
 some unfrequented desert, become a recluse from all 
 mankind. 
 
 But to return to what I first proposed, what was it in 
 the infancy of the world that made men, naturally sav- 
 age, unite into civil societies, but only flattery, one of
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOU.Y. 95 
 
 my cliiefest virtues ? For there is nothing else meant 
 by the fables of Amphion and Orpheus with their harps ; 
 the first making the stones jump into a well-built wall, 
 the other inducing the trees to pull their legs out of the 
 ground, and dance the morrice after him. 
 
 What was it that quieted and appeased the Romar. 
 people, when they broke out into a riot for the redress 
 of grievances? Was it any formal starched oration? 
 No, alas, it was only a silly, ridiculous story, told by 
 Menenius Agrippa, how the other members of the body 
 quarreled with the belly, resolving no longer to remain 
 her drudging caterers, till by the penance they thought 
 thus in revenge to impose, they soon found their own 
 strength so far diminished that, realizing at the cost of 
 experience their mistake, they willingly returned to 
 their respective duties. 
 
 Thus when the rabble of Athens murmured at the ex- 
 action of the magistrates, Themistocles satisfied them 
 with such another tale of the fox and the hedge-hog ; 
 the first whereof being stuck fast in a miry bog, the flies 
 came swarming about him, and almost sucked out all his 
 blood, the latter officiously offered his services to drive 
 them away; u no," says the fox, "if these which are 
 almost glutted be frighted off, there will come another 
 hungry set that will be ten times more greedy and de- 
 vouring : ' ' the moral of this he thought applicable to 
 the people, who if they had such magistrates removed 
 as they complained of for extortion, yet their successors 
 would probably be worse. 
 
 With what higher advances of policy could Sertorius 
 have kept the barbarians so well in awe, as by a white
 
 96 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 hart, which he pretended was presented to him by Diana, 
 and brought him intelligence of all his enemies' designs ? 
 What was Lycurgus's grand argument for demonstrating 
 the force of education, but only by bringing out two 
 whelps of the same bitch, differently brought up, and 
 placing before them a dish of food and a live hare ; the 
 one that had been bred to hunting, ran after the game, 
 while the other, whose kennel had been a kitchen, pres- 
 ently fell a licking the platter. 
 
 Thus the before-mentioned Sertorius made his soldiers 
 sensible that wit and contrivance would do more than 
 bare strength, by setting a couple of men to the plucking 
 off the hair from two horses' tails ; the first, pulling at 
 all in one handful, tugged in vain ; while the other, 
 though much the weaker, by snatching off the hairs one 
 by one, soon performed his appointed task. 
 
 Instances of like nature are Minos and king Numa, 
 both of whom fooled the people into obedience by a mere 
 cheat and juggle ; the first by pretending that he was 
 advised by Jupiter, the latter by making the vulgar be- 
 lieve that he had the goddess ^geria to assist him in 
 all debates and transactions. And indeed it is by such 
 wheedles that the common people are best gulled and 
 imposed upon. 
 
 For farther, what city would ever submit to the rigor- 
 ous laws of Plate, to the severe injunctions of Aristotle, 
 or the more impracticable tenets of Socrates ? No, these 
 would have been too galling, there not being allowance 
 enough made for the infirmities of the people. 
 
 To pass to another head, what was it made the Decii 
 so forward to offer themselves up as a sacrifice for an
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 97 
 
 atonement to the angry gods, to rescue and stipulate for 
 their indebted country ? What made Curtius, on a like 
 occasion, so desperately to throw away his life, but only 
 vainglory, that is condemned, and unanimously voted 
 for a main branch of folly by all wise met} ? What is 
 more unreasonable and foppish (say they) than for any 
 man, out of ambition to some office, to bow, to scrape 
 and cringe to the gaping rabble, to purchase their favor 
 by bribes and donatives, to have their names cried up 
 in the streets, to be carried about as it were for a fine 
 sight upon the shoulders of the crowd, to have their 
 effigies carved in brass, and put up in the market place 
 for a monument of their popularity ? 
 
 Add to this, the affectation of new titles and distinct- 
 ive badges of honor ; nay, the very deifying of such as 
 were the most bloody tyrants. These are so extremely 
 ridiculous, that there is need of more than one Democri- 
 tus to laugh at them. And yet hence only have been 
 occasioned those memorable achievements of heroes, that 
 have so much employed the pens of many laborious 
 writers. 
 
 It is Folly that in a varied dress, governs cities, ap- 
 points magistrates, and supports judicatures ; and, in 
 short, makes the whole course of man's life a mere 
 children's play and worse than push-pin diversion. 
 
 The invention of all arts and sciences are likewise 
 owing to the same cause : for what sedentary, thoughtful 
 men would have beat their brains in the search of new 
 and unheard of mysteries, if not urged on by the bub- 
 bling hopes of credit and reputation? They think a 
 little glittering flash of vainglory is a sufficient reward
 
 98 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 for all their sweat and toil, and tedious drudgery, while 
 they that are supposedly more foolish, reap advantage 
 of the others' labors. 
 
 And now since I have made good my title to valor 
 and industry, what if I challenge an equal share of 
 wisdom ? 
 
 How ! you will say, this is absurd and contradictory ; 
 the east and west may as soon shake hands as Folly and 
 Wisdom be reconciled. Well, but have a little patience 
 and I will warrant you I will make out my claim. First 
 then, if wisdom (as must be confessed) is no more than a 
 readiness of doing good, and an expeditious method of 
 becoming serviceable to the world, to whom does this 
 virtue more properly belong? To the wise man, who 
 partly out of modesty, partly out of cowardice, can pro- 
 ceed resolutely in no attempt ; or to the fool, that goes 
 hand over head, leaps before he looks, and so ventures 
 through the most hazardous undertaking without any 
 sense or prospect of danger? In the undertaking of any 
 enterprise the wise man shall run to consult with his 
 books, and daze himself with poring over musty authors, 
 whilst the dispatchful fool shall rush blindly on, and 
 have done the business, while the other is thinking of it. 
 For the two greatest lets and impediments to the issue 
 of any performance are modesty, which casts a mist be- 
 fore men's eyes, and fear, which makes them shrink 
 back, and recede from any proposal : both these are 
 banished by Folly, and in their stead such a habit of 
 fool-hardiness introduced, as mightily contributes to the 
 success of all enterprises. Farther, if you will have 
 wisdom taken in the other sense, of being a right judg-
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 99 
 
 ment of things, you shall see how short wise men fall of 
 it in this acceptation. 
 
 First, then, it is certain that all things, like so many 
 Jan us' s, carry a double face, or rather bear a false aspect, 
 most things being really in themselves far different from 
 what they are in appearance to others : so that which at 
 first blush proves alive, is in truth dead ; and that again, 
 which appears as dead, at a nearer view proves to be alive ; 
 beautiful seems ugly, wealthy poor, scandalous is thought 
 creditable, prosperous passes for unlucky, friendly for 
 what is most opposite, and innocent for what is hurtful 
 and pernicious. In short, if we change the tables, all 
 things are found placed in a quite different posture from 
 what just before they appeared to stand in. 
 
 If this seem too darkly and unintelligibly expressed, 
 I will explain it by the familiar instance of some great 
 king or prince, whom every one shall suppose to swim 
 in a luxury of wealth, and to be a powerful lord and 
 master ; when, alas, on the one hand he has poverty of 
 spirit enough to make him a mere beggar, and on the 
 other side he is worse than a galley-slave to his own 
 lusts and passions. 
 
 If I had a mind further to expatiate, I could enlarge 
 upon several instances of like nature, but this one may 
 at present suffice. 
 
 Well, but what is the meaning (will some say) of all 
 this ? Why, observe the application. If any one in a 
 play-house be so impertinent and rude as to rifle the 
 actors of their borrowed clothes, make them lay down 
 the character assumed, and force them to return to their 
 naked selves, would not such a one wholly discompose
 
 IOO THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 and spoil the entertainment ? And would he not deserve 
 to be hissed and thrown stones at till the pragmatical 
 fool could learn better manners ? For by such a disturb- 
 ance the whole scene will be altered : such as acted the 
 men will perhaps appear to be women : he that was 
 dressed up for a young brisk lover, will be found a rough 
 old fellow ; and he that represented a king, will remain 
 but a mean ordinary serving-man. The laying things 
 thus open is marring all the sport, which consists only 
 in counterfeit and disguise. 
 
 Now the world is nothing else but such another com- 
 edy, where every one in the tire-room is first habited 
 suitably to the part he is to act ; and as it is successively 
 their turn, out they come on the stage, where he that 
 now personates a prince, shall in another part of the 
 same play alter his dress, and become a beggar, all things 
 being in a mask and particular disguise, or otherwise the 
 play could never be presented. 
 
 Now, if there should arise any starched, formal don, 
 that would point at the several actors, and tell how this, 
 that seems a petty god, is indeed worse than a brute, 
 being made captive to the tyranny of passion ; that the 
 other, who bears the character of a king, is indeed the 
 most slavish of serving-men, in being subject to the mas- 
 tership of lust and sensuality ; that a third, who vaunts 
 so much of his pedigree, is no better than a bastard for 
 degenerating from virtue, which ought to be of greatest 
 consideration in heraldry, and so shall go on in exposing 
 all the rest ; would not any one think such a person quite 
 frantic, and ripe for Bedlam ? 
 
 For as nothing is more silly than preposterous wisdom,
 
 Fools have the Privilege of Speaking the Truth.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 103 
 
 so is there nothing more indiscreet than an unreasonable 
 reproof. And therefore he is to be hooted out of all 
 society that will not be pliable, conformable, and willing 
 to suit his humor with other men's, remembering the 
 law of clubs and meetings, that he who will not do as 
 the rest must get him out of the company. 
 
 And it is certainly one great degree of wisdom for 
 every one to consider that he is but a man, and therefore 
 he should not pitch his soaring thoughts beyond the 
 level of mortality, but clip the wings of his towering 
 ambition, and obligingly submit and condescend to the 
 weakness of others, it being many times a piece of com- 
 plaisance to go out of the road for company's sake. No 
 (say you), this is a grand piece of Folly : true, but yet 
 all our living is no more than such kind of fooling, which 
 though it may seem harsh to assert, yet it is not so 
 strange as true. 
 
 For the better making it out it might perhaps be req- 
 uisite to invoke the aid of the muses, to whom the poets 
 devoutly apply themselves upon far more slender occa- 
 sions. Come then and assist, ye Heliconian lasses, while 
 I attempt to prove that there is no method for an arrival 
 at wisdom, and consequently no track to the goal of 
 happiness, without the instructions and directions of 
 Folly. 
 
 And here, in the first place, it has been already ac- 
 knowledged that all the passions are enlisted under my 
 regiment, since this is resolved to be the only distinction 
 betwixt a wise man and a fool, that the latter is governed 
 by passion, the other guided by reason ; and therefore 
 the Stoics look upon passions as no other than the in-
 
 104 TH E PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 faction and malady of the soul that disorders the consti- 
 tution of the whole man, and by putting the spirits into 
 a feverish ferment, occasions many times some mortal 
 distemper. And yet these, however decried, are not only 
 our tutors to instruct us towards the attainment of wis- 
 dom, but even embolden us likewise, and spur us on 
 to a quicker dispatch of all our undertakings. This, I 
 suppose, will be stomached by the stoical Seneca, who 
 pretends that the only emblem of wisdom is the man 
 without passion ; whereas the supposing any person to 
 be so, is perfectly to unman him, or else transform him 
 into some fabulous deity that never was, nor ever will 
 be ; nay, to speak more plainly, it is but the making him 
 a mere statue, immovable, senseless, and altogether in- 
 active. And if this be their wise man, let them take him 
 to themselves, and remove him into Plato's common- 
 wealth, the new Atlantis, or some other-like fairy land. 
 
 For who would not hate and avoid such a person as 
 should be deaf to all the dictates of common sense ? that 
 should have no more power of love or pity than a block 
 or stone that remains heedless of all dangers ? that thinks 
 he can never mistake, but can foresee all contingencies 
 at the greatest distance, and make provision for the worst 
 presages? that feeds upon himself and his own thoughts ? 
 that monopolizes health, wealth, power, dignity, and all 
 to himself? that loves no man, nor is beloved of any ? 
 that has the impudence to tax even divine providence of 
 ill contrivance, and proudly grudges, nay, tramples under 
 foot all other men's reputation ; and this is he that is 
 the Stoic's perfectly wise man. 
 
 But prithee, what city would choose such a magistrate?
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 107 
 
 what army would be willing to serve under such a com- 
 mander? or what woman would be content with such an 
 incompetent husband. Who would invite such a guest? 
 or what servant would be retained under such a master ? 
 The most illiterate mechanic would in all respects be a 
 more acceptable man, for he would be frolicsome with 
 his wife, free with his friends, jovial at a feast, pliable in 
 converse, and obliging to all company. 
 
 But I am tired out with this part of my subject, and 
 so must pass to other topics. 
 
 And now were any one placed on that tower, from 
 whence Jove is fancied by the poets to survey the world, 
 he would discern all around how many grievances and 
 calamities our whole life is on every side encompassed 
 with : how unclean our birth, how troublesome our tend- 
 ance in the cradle, how liable our childhood is to a thou- 
 sand misfortunes, how toilsome and full of drudgery our 
 riper years, how heavy and uncomfortable our old age, 
 and lastly, how unwelcome the unavoidableness of death. 
 Farther, in every course of life how many wracks there 
 may be of torturing diseases, how many unhappy acci- 
 dents may casually occur, how many unexpected disas- 
 ters may arise, and what strange alterations may one 
 moment produce ? Not to mention such miseries as men 
 are mutually the cause of, as poverty, imprisonment, 
 slander, reproach, revenge, treachery, malice, cousenage, 
 deceit, and so many more, as to reckon them all would 
 be as puzzling arithmetic as the numbering of the sands. 
 
 How mankind became environed with such hard cir- 
 cumstances, or what deity imposed these plagues, as a 
 penance on rebellious mortals, I am not now at leisure
 
 IO8 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 to enquire : but whoever seriously takes them into con- 
 sideration must needs commend the value of the Milesian 
 virgins, who voluntarily killed themselves to get rid of 
 a troublesome world : and how many wise men have 
 taken the same course of becoming their own execution- 
 ers : among whom, not to mention Diogenes, Xenocrates, 
 Cato, Cassius, Brutus, and other heroes, the self-denying 
 Chiron is never enough to be commended ; who, when 
 he was offered by Apollo the privilege of being exempted 
 from death, and living on to the world's end, refused the 
 enticing proposal, as deservedly thinking it a punishment 
 rather than a reward. 
 
 But if all were thus wise you see how soon the world 
 would be unpeopled, and what need there would be of a 
 second Prometheus, to plaster up the decayed image of 
 mankind. I therefore come and stand in this gap of 
 danger, and prevent farther mischief; partly by igno- 
 rance, partly by inadvertence ; by the oblivion of what- 
 ever would be grating to remember, and the hopes of 
 whatever may be grateful to expec"l, together palliating 
 all griefs with an intermixture of pleasure ; whereby I 
 make men so far from being weary of their lives, that 
 when their thread is spun to its full length, they are yet 
 unwilling to die, and hardly can be brought to take 
 their last farewell of their friends. 
 
 Thus some decrepit old fellows, that look as hollow 
 as the grave into which they are falling, that rattle in 
 the throat at every word they speak, that can eat no 
 meat but what is tender enough to suck, that have more 
 hair on their beard than they have on their head, and go 
 stooping toward the dust they must shortly return to; 
 \
 
 The Begging Friar.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. Ill 
 
 whose skin seems already drest into parchment, and their 
 bones already dried to a skeleton ; these shadows of men 
 shall be wonderful ambitious of living longer, and there- 
 fore fence off the attacks of death with all imaginable 
 sleights and impostures ; one shall dye his gray hairs, 
 for fear their color should betray his age ; another shall 
 spruce himself up in a light periwig ; a third shall repair 
 the loss of his teeth with an ivory set ; and a fourth per- 
 haps shall fall deeply in love with a young girl, and 
 accordingly court her with as much of gaiety and brisk- 
 ness as the liveliest spark in the whole town : and we 
 cannot but know, that for an old man to marry a young 
 wife without a portion, to be a cooler to other men's lust, 
 is grown so common, that it has become the a-la-mode 
 of the times. And what is yet more comical, you shall 
 have some wrinkled old woman, whose very looks are a 
 sufficient antidote to lechery, that shall be canting out, 
 "Ah, life is a sweet thing -," and so run a caterwauling, 
 and hire some strong-backed suitors to recover their 
 almost lost sense of feeling ; and to set themselves off 
 the better, they shall paint and daub their faces, always 
 stand a tricking up themselves at their looking-glass, go 
 naked-necked, bare-breasted, be tickled at a vulgar jest, 
 dance among the young girls, write love-letters, and do 
 all the other knacks of attracting hot-blooded suitors ; 
 and in the meanwhile, however they are laughed at, they 
 enjoy themselves to the full, live to their hearts' desire, 
 and want for nothing that may complete their happiness. 
 As for those that think them herein so ridiculous, I would 
 have them give an ingenuous answer to this one query, 
 whether if folly or hanging were left to their choice, they
 
 112 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 had not much rather live like fools, than die like dogs ? 
 But what matter is it if these things are resented by 
 the vulgar ? Their ill word is no injury to fools, who 
 are either altogether insensible of any affront, or at least 
 lay it not much to heart. If they were knocked on the 
 head, or had their brains dashed out, they would have 
 some cause to complain ; but alas, slander, calumny, 
 and disgrace, are not otherwise injurious than as they 
 are interpreted; nor otherwise evil than as they are 
 thought to be so. What harm is it then if all persons 
 deride and scoff you, if you bear but up in your own 
 thoughts, and be yourself thoroughly conceited of your 
 deserts? And prithee, why should it be thought any 
 scandal to be a fool, since the being so is one part of our 
 nature and essence ; and as so, our not being wise can 
 no more reasonably be imputed as a fault, than it would 
 be proper to laugh at a man because he cannot fly in the 
 air like birds and fowls ; because he goes not on all fours 
 as beasts of the field ; because he does not wear a pair of 
 visible horns as a crest on his forehead, like bulls or stags. 
 By the same figure we may call a horse unhappy, be- 
 cause he was never taught his grammar ; and an ox mis- 
 erable, because he never learned to fence. But, sure as 
 a horse, though not knowing a letter is nevertheless val- 
 uable, so a man, for being a fool, is never the more un- 
 fortunate, it being by nature and providence so ordained 
 for each. 
 
 Ay, but (say our patrons of wisdom) the knowledge of 
 arts and sciences is purposely attainable by men, that 
 the defect of natural parts maybe supplied by the help of 
 those acquired : as if it were probable that nature, which
 
 The First Scene of Infancy.
 
 The Lawyer.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 115 
 
 has been so exact and curious in the mechanism of flow- 
 ers, herbs, and flies, should have bungled most in her 
 masterpiece, and made man as it were by halves, to be 
 afterward polished and refined by his own industry, in 
 the attainment of such sciences as the Egyptians feigned 
 were invented by their god Theuth, as a sure plague and 
 punishment to mankind, being so far from augmenting 
 their happiness, that they do not answer the end that 
 they were first designed for, which was the improvement 
 of memory, as Plato in his Phsedrus doth wittily observe. 
 
 In the first golden age of the world, there was no need 
 of these perplexities ; there was then no other sort of 
 learning but what was collected from every man's com- 
 mon sense, improved by an easy experience. 
 
 What use could there have been of grammar, when all 
 men spoke the same mother- tongue, and aimed at no 
 higher pitch of oratory, than barely to be understood by 
 each other? What need of logic, when they were too 
 wise to enter into any dispute? or what occasion for 
 rhetoriofwhere no difference arose to require any labori- 
 ous decision? And as little reason had they to be tied 
 up by any laws, since the dictates of nature and common 
 morality were restraint and obligation sufficient : and as 
 to all the mysteries of providence, they made them rather 
 the objecl of their wonder, than their curiosity ; and 
 therefore were not so presumptuous as to dive into the 
 depths of nature, to labor for the solving of all phenom- 
 ena in astronomy, or to wrack their brains in the split- 
 ting of entities, and unfolding the nicest speculations, 
 judging it a crime for any man to aim at what is put 
 beyond the reach of his shallow apprehension.
 
 Il6 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 Thus was ignorance, in the infancy of the world, as 
 much the parent of happiness as it has since been of de- 
 votion ; but as soon as the golden age began by degrees 
 to degenerate into the more common metals, then were 
 arts likewise invented ; yet at first but few in number, 
 and those rarely understood, till in farther process of 
 time the superstition of the Chaldeans, and the curiosity 
 of the Grecians, spawned so many subtleties, that now it 
 is scarce the work of an age to be thoroughly acquainted 
 with all the criticisms in grammar only. And among 
 all the several Arts, those are proportionably most es- 
 teemed that come nearest to weakness and folly. For 
 thus divines may bite their nails, and naturalists may 
 blow their fingers, astrologers may know their own for- 
 tune is to be poor, and the logician may shut his fist 
 $nd grasp the wind. 
 
 While all these hard-named fellows cannot make 
 So great a figure as a single quack. 
 
 And in this profession, those that have most confidence, 
 though the least skill, shall be sure of the greatest cus- 
 tom ; and indeed this whole art as it is now practised, is 
 but one incorporated compound of craft and imposture. 
 Next to the physician comes the lawyer, (who will 
 perhaps commence a suit with me for not having beea 
 first mentioned), who is so silly as to be, proverbially, an 
 ignoramus, and yet by such are all difficulties solved, all 
 controversies determined, and all affairs managed so 
 much to their own advantage, that they get those estates 
 to themselves which they are employed to recover for 
 their clients : while in the mean time the poor divine 
 shall have the lice crawl upon his thread-bare gown,
 
 The Old Man Spruced Up.
 
 The Old Woman Spmced up.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 131 
 
 before, by all his sweat and drudgery, he can get money 
 enough to purchase a new one. As those arts therefore 
 are most advantageous to their respective professors 
 which are farthest distant from wisdom, so are those per- 
 sons incomparably most happy that have least to do with 
 any at all, but jog on in the common road of nature, 
 which will never mislead us, except we voluntarily leap 
 over those boundaries which she has cautiously set to all 
 finite beings. Nature glitters most in her own plain, 
 homely garb, and then gives the greatest lustre when 
 she is unsullied from all artificial garnish. 
 
 Thus if we enquire into the state of all dumb creatures, 
 we shall find that those fare best that are left to nature's 
 conduct : as for instance in bees, what is more to be ad- 
 mired than the industry and contrivance of these little 
 insects ? What architect could ever form so curious a 
 structure as they give a model of in their inimitable 
 combs? What kingdom can be governed with better 
 discipline than they exactly observe in their respective 
 hives ? While the horse, by turning a rebel to nature, 
 and becoming a slave to man, undergoes the worst of 
 tyranny. 
 
 He is sometimes spurred on to battle when wounded 
 so severely that his intestines drag after him, and, falling, 
 he bites the ground instead of grass ; not to mention the 
 cruelty of his jaws being curbed, his tail docked, his 
 back wrung, his sides spur-galled, his close imprisonment 
 in a stable, and a great many other plagues, which he 
 might have avoided if he had kept to that first station of 
 freedom in which nature placed him. 
 
 How much more desirable is the unconfined range of
 
 122 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 flies and birds, who living by instinct, would want noth- 
 ing to complete their happiness, if some well-employed 
 Domitian would not persecute the former, nor the sly 
 fowler lay snares and gins for the entrapping of the 
 other? And if young birds, before their unfledged wings 
 can carry them from their nests, are caught, and pent up 
 in a cage for the purpose of learning them to sing or 
 whistle, all their new tunes make not half such sweet 
 music as their wild notes, and natural melody so much 
 does that which is but rough-drawn by nature surpass 
 and excel all the additional paint and varnish of art, and 
 we cannot but commend and admire that Pythagorean 
 cock, which (as Lucian relates) had been successively a 
 man, a woman, a prince, a subject, a fish, a horse, and a 
 frog : after all his experience, he summed up his judg- 
 ment in this censure, that "Man was the most wretched 
 and deplorable of all creatures, all others patiently graz- 
 ing within the enclosures of nature, while man only 
 broke out, and strayed beyond those safer limits, 
 which he was justly confined to." And Gryllus is to be 
 adjuged wiser than the much counseling Ulysses, inas- 
 much as when by the enchantment of Circe he had been 
 turned into a hog, he would not lay down his swinish- 
 ness, nor forsake his beloved sty, to run the peril of a 
 hazardous voyage. 
 
 For a farther confirmation whereof I have the authority 
 of Homer, that captain of all poetry, who, as he gives 
 to mankind in general, the epithet of wretched and un- 
 happy, so he bestows in particular upon Ulysses the title 
 of miserable, which he never attributes to Paris, Ajax, 
 Achilles, or any other of the commanders ; and that for
 
 The Capuchin.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 125 
 
 this reason, because Ulysses was more crafty, cautious, 
 and wise, than any of the rest. 
 
 As those therefore fall shortest of happiness that reach 
 highest at wisdom, meeting with the greater repulse for 
 soaring beyond the boundaries of their nature, and with- 
 out remembering themselves to be but men, like the fallen 
 angels, daring them to vie with Omnipotence, and giant- 
 like scale heaven with the engines of their own brain ; so 
 are those most exalted in the road of bliss that degenerate 
 nearest into brutes, and quietly divest themselves of all 
 use and exercise of reason. 
 
 And this we can prove by a familiar instance. As 
 namely, can there be any one sort of men that enjoy 
 themselves better than those which we call changelings, 
 idiots, fools, and naturals ? It may perhaps sound harsh, 
 but upon due consideration it will be found absolutely 
 true, that these persons in all circumstances fare best, 
 and live most comfortably ; as first, they are void of all 
 fear, which is a very great privilege to be exempted from ; 
 they are troubled with no remorse, nor pricks of con- 
 science ; they are not frighted with any bugbear stories 
 of another world ; they startle not at the fancied appear- 
 ance of ghosts, or apparitions ; they are not wracked with 
 the dread of impending mischiefs, nor bandied with the 
 hopes of any expected enjoyments : in short, they are 
 unassaulted by all those legions of cares that war against 
 the quiet of rational souls ; they are ashamed of nothing, 
 fear no man, banish the uneasiness of ambition, envy, 
 and love ; and to add the reversion of a future happiness 
 to the enjoyment of a present one, they have no sin 
 neither to answer for ; divines unanimously maintaining
 
 126 THE PRAISE OF 
 
 that a gross and unavoidable ignorance does not only 
 extenuate and abate from the aggravation, but wholly 
 expiates the guilt of any immorality. 
 
 Come now then as many of you as challenge the re- 
 spect of being accounted wise, ingenuously confess how 
 many insurrections of rebellious thoughts, and pangs of 
 a laboring mind, ye are perpetually vexed and tortured 
 with ; reckon up all those inconveniences that you are 
 unavoidably subject to, and then tell me whether fools, 
 by being exempted from all these embroilments, are not 
 infinitely more free and happy than yourselves ? Add 
 to this, that fools do not barely laugh and sing, and play 
 the good-fellow alone to themselves : but as it is the na- 
 ture of good to be communicative, so they impart their 
 mirth to others, by making sport for the whole company 
 they are at any time engaged in, as if providence purpose- 
 ly designed them for an antidote to melancholy: where- 
 by they make all persons so fond of their society, that 
 they are welcomed to all places, hugged, caressed, and 
 defended, a liberty given them of saying or doing any- 
 thing ; so well beloved, that none dares to offer them 
 the least injury ; nay, the most ravenous beasts of prey 
 will pass them by untouched, as if by instinct they were 
 warned that such innocence ought to receive no hurt. 
 Farther, their converse is so acceptable in the court of 
 princes, that few kings will banquet, walk, or take any 
 other diversion, without their attendance ; nay, and had 
 much rather have their company, than that of their 
 gravest counselors, whom they maintain more for fashion' 
 sake than good-will ; nor is it so strange that these fools 
 should be preferred before graver politicians, since these
 
 The Commentator.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 129 
 
 last, by their harsh, sour advice, and ill-timing the truth, 
 are fit only to put a prince out of humor, while the others 
 laugh, and talk, and joke, without any danger of dis- 
 obliging. 
 
 It is another very commendable property of fools, 
 that they always speak the truth, than which there is 
 nothing more noble and heroical. For so, though Plato 
 relates it as a sentence of Alcibiades, that in the sea of 
 drunkenness truth swims uppermost, and so wine is 
 the only teller of truth, yet this character may more 
 justly be assumed by me, as I can make good from the 
 authority of Euripides, who lays down this as an ax- 
 iom itaopu {i&pos Aeyst, children and fools always speak the 
 truth. 
 
 Whatever the fool has in his heart he betrays it in his 
 face: or what is more evident, discovers it by his words: 
 while the wise man, as Euripides observes, carries a 
 double tongue ; the one to speak what may be said, the 
 other what ought to be ; the one what truth, the other 
 what the times require : whereby he can in a trice so 
 alter his judgment, as to prove that to be now white, 
 which he had just before sworn to be black ; like the 
 satyr at his porridge, blowing hot and cold at the same 
 breath ; in his lips professing one thing, when in his 
 deart he means another. 
 
 Futhermore, princes in their greatest splendor seem 
 upon this account unhappy, in that they miss the advan- 
 tage of being told the truth, and are shammed off by a 
 parcel of insinuating courtiers, that acquit themselves as 
 flatterers more than as friends. But some will perchance 
 object, that princes do not love to hear the truth, and
 
 130 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 therefore wise men must be very cautious how they be- 
 have themselves before them, lest they should take too 
 great a liberty in speaking what is true, rather than 
 what is acceptable. 
 
 This much must be confessed, that truth indeed is 
 seldom palatable to the ears of kings ; yet fools have so 
 great a privilege as to have free leave, not only to speak 
 bare truths, but the most bitter ones too; so as the same 
 reproof, which had it come from the mouth of a wise 
 man would have cost him his head, being blurted out by 
 a fool, is not only pardoned, but welcomed and rewarded. 
 For truth has naturally a mixture of pleasure, if it carry 
 with it nothing of offence to the person whom it is ap- 
 plied to ; and the happy knack of ordering it so is be- 
 stowed only on fools. 
 
 ' Tis for the same reason that this sort of men are more 
 fondly beloved by women, who like their tumbling them 
 about, and playing with them though never so boister- 
 ously ; pretending to take that only in jest, which they 
 would have to be meant in earnest, as that sex is very 
 ingenious in palliating, and dissembling the bent of 
 their wanton inclinations. 
 
 But to retnrn. An additional happiness of these fools 
 appears farther in this, that when they have run merrily 
 on to their last stage of life, they neither find any fear 
 nor feel any pain to die, but march contentedly to the 
 other world, where their company must surely be as ac- 
 ceptable as it was here upon earth. 
 
 Let us draw now a comparison between the condition 
 of a fool and that of a wise man, and see how infinitely 
 the one outweighs the other.
 
 The Daily Tally of Psalms.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 133 
 
 Give me any instance then, of a man as wise as you 
 can fancy him possible to be, that has spent all his 
 younger years in poring over books, and trudging after 
 learning, in the pursuit whereof he squanders away the 
 pleasantest time of his life in watching, sweating, and 
 fasting ; and in his latter days he never tastes one mouth- 
 ful of delight, but is always stingy, poor, dejected, mel- 
 ancholy, burthensome to himself, and unwelcome to 
 others, pale, lean, thin-jawed, sickly, contracting by his 
 sedentariness such hurtful distempers as bring him to an 
 untimely death, like rose-buds plucked before they bloom. 
 Thus have you a picture of the wise man's happiness 
 more the object of commiseration and pity, than of jeal- 
 ousy and envy. 
 
 But now again come the croaking Stoics, and tell me 
 in mood and figure, that nothing is more miserable than 
 the being mad : but the being a fool is the being mad : 
 therefore there is nothing more miserable than the being 
 a fool. Alas, this is but a fallacy, the discovery whereof 
 solves the force of the whole syllogism. Well then, they 
 argue subtlely, 'tis true ; but as Socrates in Plato makes 
 two Venuses and two Cupids, and shows how their ac- 
 tions and properties ought not to be confounded ; so 
 these disputants, if they had not been mad themselves, 
 should have distinguished between a double madness in 
 others : and there is certainly a great difference in the 
 nature as well as in the degrees of them, and they are 
 not both equally scandalous ; for Horace seems to take 
 delight in one sort, when he says : 
 
 Does welcome frenzy make me thus mistake ? 
 
 And Plato in his Phaedon ranks the madness of poets,
 
 134 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 of prophets, and of lovers among those properties which 
 conduce to a happy life. And Virgil, in the sixth 
 ^Eneid, gives this epithet to his industrious ^Eneas : 
 
 If yoii will proceed to these your mad attempts. 
 And indeed there is a two-fold sort of madness ; the one 
 that which the furies bring from hell ; those that are 
 herewith possessed, are hurried on to wars and conten- 
 tions, by an inexhaustible thirst of power and riches, 
 inflamed to some infamous and unlawful lust, enraged to 
 acl the parricide, seduced to become guilty of incest, sac- 
 rilege, or some other of those crimson-dyed crimes ; or, 
 finally, to be so pricked in conscience as to be lashed 
 and stung with the whips and snakes of grief and re- 
 morse. But there is another sort of madness that pro- 
 ceeds from Folly, so far from being any way injurious or 
 distasteful that it is thoroughly good and desirable ; and 
 this happens when by a harmless mistake in the judg- 
 ment of things the mind is freed from those cares which 
 would otherwise gratingly afflict it, and smoothed over 
 with a content and satisfaction it could not under other 
 circumstances so happily enjoy. 
 
 And, this is that comfortable apathy or insensibleness 
 which Cicero, in an epistle to his friend Atticus, wishes 
 himself master of, that he might the less take to heart 
 those insufferable outrages committed by the tyrannizing 
 triumvirate, Lepidus, Antonius, and Augustus. 
 
 That Grecian likewise had a happy time of it, who 
 was so frantic as to sit a whole day in an empty theatre 
 laughing, shouting, and clapping his hands, as if he 
 had really seen some pathetic tragedy acted to the 
 life, when indeed all was no more than the strength of
 
 The Last shall be First, and the First, Last.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 139 
 
 imagination, and the effects of delusion, while in all 
 other respects the same person behaved himself very 
 discreetly, was 
 
 Sweet to his friends, to his wife, obliging, kind, 
 
 And so averse from a revengeful mind, 
 
 That had his men unsealed his bottled wine, 
 
 He would not fret, nor doggedly repine. 
 And when by a course of physic he was recovered 
 from this frenzy, he looked upon his cure so far from a 
 kindness, that he thus reasons the case with his friends: 
 
 This remedy, my friends, is worse i' tK main 
 Than the disease, the cure augments the pain ; 
 My only hope is a relapse again. 
 
 And certainly they were the more mad of the two who 
 endeavored tp bereave him of so pleasing a delirium, and 
 recall all the aches of his head by dispelling the mists 
 of his brain. 
 
 I have not yet determined whether it be proper to in- 
 clude all the defects of sense and understanding under 
 the common genius of madness. For if anyone be so 
 short-sighted as to take a mule for an ass, or so shallow- 
 pated as to admire a paltry ballad for an elegant poem, 
 he is not thereupon immediately censured as mad. But 
 if anyone let not only his senses but his judgment be 
 imposed upon in the most ordinary common concerns, 
 he shall come under the scandal of being thought next 
 door to a madman. As suppose any one should hear an 
 ass bray, and should take it for ravishing music ; or if 
 any one, born a beggar, should fancy himself as great as 
 a prince, or the like. But this sort of madness, if (as is
 
 140 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 most usual) it be accompanied with pleasure, brings a 
 great satisfaction both to those who are possessed with it 
 themselves, and those who deride it in others, though 
 they are not both equally frantic. And this species of 
 madness is of larger extent than the world commonly 
 imagines. Thus the whole tribe of madmen make spor*; 
 among themselves, while one laughs at another ; he that 
 is more mad many times jeering him that is less so. 
 
 But indeed the greater each man's madness is, the 
 greater is his happiness, if it be but such a sort as pro- 
 ceeds from an excess of folly, which is so epidemical a 
 distemper that it is hard to find any one man so uninfec- 
 led as not to have sometimes a fit or two of some sort of 
 frenzy. There is only this difference between the several 
 patients : He that shall take a broom-stick for a straight- 
 bodied woman is without more ado sentenced for a mad- 
 man, because this is so strange a blunder as very seldom 
 happens ; whereas he whose wife is a common jilt, that 
 keeps a warehouse free for all customers, and yet swears 
 she is as chaste as an untouched virgin, and hugs him- 
 self in his contented mistake, is scarce taken notice of, 
 because he fares no worse than a great many more of his 
 good-natured neighbors. Among these are to be ranked 
 such as take an immoderate delight in hunting, and 
 think no music comparable to the sounding of horns 
 and the yelping of beagles ; and were they to take physic, 
 would without question think the most sovereign virtues 
 to be in the album Grcscum of a dog's excrements. 
 
 When they have run down their game, what strange 
 pleasure they take in cutting of it up ! Cows and sheep 
 may be slaughtered by common butchers, but what is
 
 The Lazy Wretch.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLI,Y. 143 
 
 killed in hunting must be broken up by none under a 
 gentleman, who shall throw down his hat, fall devoutly 
 on his knees, and drawing out a slashing hanger (for a 
 common knife is not good enough), after several ceremo- 
 nies shall dissect all the parts as artificially as the best 
 anatomist, while all that stand round shall look very in- 
 tently, and seem to be mightily surprised with the nov- 
 elty, though they have seen the same an hundred times 
 before ; and he that can but dip his finger, and taste of 
 the blood, shall think his own bettered by it ; and 
 though the constant feeding on such diet does but assim- 
 ilate them to the nature of those beasts they eat of, yet 
 they will swear that venison is meat for princes, and 
 that their living upon it makes them as great as 
 emperors. 
 
 Near akin to these are such as take a great fancy for 
 building. They raise up, pull down, begin anew, alter 
 the model, and never rest till they run themselves out 
 of their whole estate, taking up such a compass for 
 buildings, till they leave themselves not one foot of land 
 to live upon, nor one poor cottage to shelter themselves 
 from cold and hunger ; and yet all the while are mighty 
 proud of their contrivances, and sing a sweet requiem to 
 their own happiness. 
 
 To these are to be added those plodding virtuosos, 
 that plunder the most inward recesses of nature for the 
 pillage of a new invention, and rake over sea and land 
 for the turning up some hitherto latent mystery ; and 
 are so continually tickled with the hopes of success, that 
 they spare for no cost nor pains, but trudge on, and upon 
 a defeat in one attempt, courageously tack about to an-
 
 144 TH E PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 other, and fall upon new experiments, never giving over 
 till they have calcined their whole estate to ashes, and 
 have not money enough left unmelted to purchase one 
 crucible or limbeck. And yet after all, they are not so 
 much discouraged, but that they dream fine things still, 
 and influence others all they can to the like undertak- 
 ings ; nay, when their hopes come to the last gasp, after 
 all their disappointments, they have yet one salvo for 
 their credit, that : 
 
 In great exploits our bare attempts suffice. 
 And so inveigh against the shortness of their life, which 
 allows them not time enough to bring their designs to 
 maturity and perfection. 
 
 Whether dice-players may be so favorably dealt with 
 as to be admitted among the rest, is scarce yet resolved 
 upon : but sure it is hugely vain and ridiculous, when 
 we see some persons so devoutly addicted to this diver- 
 sion, that at the first rattle of the box their heart shakes 
 within them, and keeps consort with the motion of the 
 dice: they are egged on so long with the hopes of always 
 winning, till at last, in a literal sense, they have thrown 
 away their whole estate, and made shipwreck of all they 
 have, scarce escaping to shore with their own clothes to 
 their backs ; thinking it in the meanwhile a great piece 
 of religion to be just in the payment of their stakes, and 
 will cheat any creditor sooner than him who trusts them 
 in play : and that poring old men, that cannot tell their 
 cast without the help of spectacles, should be sweating 
 at the same sport ; nay, that such decrepit blades, as by 
 the gout have lost the use of their fingers, should look 
 over, and hire others to throw for them. This indeed
 
 The Dice Players.
 
 Profusely Lavish in Charity.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 149 
 
 is prodigiously extravagant ; but the consequence of it 
 ends so oft in downright madness, that it seems rather 
 to belong to the furies than to folly. 
 
 The next to be placed among the regiment of fools are 
 such as make a trade of telling or enquiring after incred- 
 ible stories of miracles and prodigies : never doubting 
 that a lie will choke them, they will muster up a thou- 
 sand several strange relations of spirits, ghosts, appari- 
 tions, raising of the devil, and such like bugbears of 
 superstition, which the farther they are from being prob- 
 ably true, the more greedily they are swallowed, and the 
 more devoutly believed. And these absurdities do not 
 only bring an empty pleasure, and cheap divertisement, 
 but they procure a comfortable income to such priests 
 and friars as by this craft get their gain. To these again 
 are nearly related such others as attribute strange virtues 
 to the shrines and images of saints and martyrs, and so 
 would make their credulous proselytes believe, that if 
 they pay their devotion to St. Christopher in the morn- 
 ing, they shall be guarded and secured the day follow- 
 ing from all dangers and misfortunes : if soldiers, when 
 they first take arms, shall come and mumble over such 
 a set prayer before the picture of St. Barbara, they shall 
 return safe from all engagements : or if any pray to Eras- 
 mus on such particular holidays, with the ceremony of 
 wax candles, and other fopperies, he shall in a short 
 time be rewarded with a plentiful increase of wealth and 
 riches. The Christians have now their gigantic St. 
 George, as well as the Pagans had their Hercules ; they 
 paint the saint on horseback, and picture the horse in 
 splendid trappings, very gloriously accoutred, they
 
 150 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 scarce refrain in a literal sense from worshiping the very 
 beast. 
 
 What shall I say of such as cry up and maintain the 
 cheat of pardons and indulgences ? that by these com- 
 pute the time of each soul's residence in purgatory, and 
 assign them a longer or shorter continuance, according 
 as they purchase more or fewer of these paltry pardons, 
 and saleable exemptions ? Or what can be said bad 
 enough of others, who pretend that by the force of such 
 magical charms, or by the fumbling over their beads in 
 the rehearsal of such and such petitions (which some re- 
 ligious impostors invented, either for diversion, or what 
 is more likely, for advantage), they shall procure riches, 
 honor, pleasure, health, long life, a lusty old age, nay, 
 after death a sitting at the right hand of our Saviour in 
 His kingdom ; though as to this last part of their happi- 
 ness, they care not how long it be deferred, having scarce 
 any appetite toward a tasting the joys of heaven, till they 
 are surfeited, glutted with, and can no longer relish their 
 enjoyments on earth. 
 
 By this easy way of purchasing pardons, any notorious 
 highwayman, any plundering soldier, or any bribe-taking 
 judge, shall disburse some part of their unjust gains, and 
 so think all their grossest impieties sufficiently atoned 
 for ; so many perjuries, lusts, drunkenness, quarrels, 
 bloodsheds, cheats, treacheries, and all sorts of debauch- 
 eries, shall all be, as it were, struck a bargain for, and 
 such a contract made, as if they had paid off all arrears, 
 and might now begin upon a new score. 
 
 And what can be more ridiculous, than for some others 
 to be confident of going to heaven by repeating daily
 
 St. Bernard and the Devil.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 153 
 
 those seven verses out of the Psalms, which the devil 
 taught St. Bernard, thinking thereby to have put a trick 
 upon him, but that he was over-reached in his cunning. 
 
 Several of these fooleries, which are so gross and ab- 
 surd, as I myself am even ashamed to own, are practised 
 and admired, not only by the vulgar, but by such profi- 
 cients in religion as one might well expect should have 
 more wit. 
 
 The custom of each country challenging their particu- 
 lar guardian-saint, proceeds from the same principles of 
 folly ; nay, each saint has his distinct office allotted to 
 him, and is accordingly addressed to upon the respective 
 occasions : as one for the tooth-ache, a second to grant 
 an easy delivery in child-birth, a third to recover lost 
 goods, another to protect seamen in a long voyage, a 
 fifth to guard the farmer's cows and sheep, and so on; 
 for to rehearse all instances would be extremely tedious. 
 
 There are some more catholic saints petitioned to upon 
 all occasions, as more especially the Virgin Mary, whose 
 blind devotees think it manners now to place the mother 
 before the son. 
 
 And of all the prayers and intercessions that are made 
 to these respective saints, the substance of them is no 
 more than downright Folly. 
 
 Among all the trophies that for tokens of gratitude 
 are hung upon the walls and ceilings of churches, you 
 shall find no relics presented as a memorandum of any 
 that were ever cured of Folly, or had been made one 
 dram the wiser. One perhaps after shipwreck got safe 
 to shore ; another recovered when he had been run 
 through by an enemy ; one, when all his fellow-soldiers
 
 154 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 were killed upon the spot, as cunningly perhaps as cow- 
 ardly, made his escape from the field ; another, while 
 he was a hanging, the rope broke, and so he 'saved his 
 neck, and renewed his license for practicing his old trade 
 of thieving ; another broke jail, and got loose ; a patient 
 (against his physician's will) recovered of a dangerous 
 fever ; another drank poison, which putting him into a 
 violent looseness, did his body more good than harm, to 
 the great grief of his wife, who hoped upon this occasion 
 to have become a joyful widow ; another had his wagon 
 overturned, and yet none of his horses lamed ; another 
 had caught a grievous fall, and yet recovered from the 
 bruise ; another had been tampering with his neighbor's 
 wife, and escaped very narrowly from being caught by 
 the enraged cuckold in the very act. After all these 
 acknowledgments of escapes from such singular dangers, 
 there is none (as I have before intimated) that returns 
 thanks for being freed from Folly ; Folly being so sweet 
 and luscious, that it is rather sued for as a happiness, 
 than deprecated as a punishment. But why should I 
 launch out into so wide a sea of superstitions ? 
 Had I as many tongues as Argus eyes, 
 Briareus hands, they all would not suffice 
 Folly in all her shapes f epitomize. 
 
 Almost all Christians being wretchedly enslaved to 
 blindness and ignorance, which the priests are so far 
 from preventing or removing, that they blacken the 
 darkness, and promote the delusion ; wisely foreseeing 
 that the people (like cows, which never give down their 
 milk so well as when they are gently stroked), would 
 part with less if they knew more, their bounty proceed-
 
 The Actor.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 157 
 
 ing only from a mistake of charity. Now if any grave, 
 wise man should stand up, and unseasonably speak the 
 truth, telling every one that a pious life is the only way 
 of securing a happy death ; that the best title to a pardon 
 of our sins is purchased by a hearty abhorrence of our 
 guilt, and sincere resolutions of amendment ; that the 
 best devotion which can be paid to any saints is to imi- 
 tate them in their exemplary life ; if he should proceed 
 thus to inform them of their several mistakes, there 
 would be quite another estimate put upon tears, watch- 
 ings, masses, fastings, and other severities, which before 
 were so much prized, as persons will now be vexed to 
 lose that satisfaction they formerly found in them. 
 
 In the same predicament of fools are to be ranked such, 
 as while they are yet living, and in good health, take so 
 great a care how they shall be buried when they die, 
 that they solemnly appoint how many torches, how 
 many escutcheons, how many gloves to be given, and 
 how many mourners they will have at their funeral; as if 
 they thought they themselves in their coffins could be 
 sensible of what respect was paid to their corpse ; or as 
 if they doubted they should rest a whit the less quiet 
 in the grave if they were with less state and pomp 
 interred. 
 
 Now, though I am in so great haste, as I would not 
 willingly be stopped or detained, yet I cannot pass by 
 without bestowing some remarks upon another sort of 
 fools ; who, though their first descent was perhaps no 
 better than from a tapster or tinker, yet highly value 
 themselves upon their birth and parentage. One fetches 
 his pedigree from ^Eneas, another from Brute, a third
 
 158 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 from king Arthur : they hang up their ancestors' worm- 
 eaten pictures as records |of antiquity, and keep a long 
 list of their predecessors, with an account of all their 
 offices and titles, while they themselves are but tran- 
 scripts of their forefathers' dumb statues, and degenerate 
 even into those very beasts which they carry in their 
 coat of arms as ensigns of their nobility : and yet by 
 a strong presumption of their birth and quality, they 
 live not only the most unconcerned lives themselves, 
 but there are not wanting others too who cry up 
 these brutes as almost equal to the gods. But why 
 should I dwell upon one or two instances of Folly, when 
 there are so many of like nature. Conceitedness and 
 self-love making many, by strength of Fancy, believe 
 themselves happy, when otherwise they are really 
 wretched and despicable. Thus the most ape-faced, 
 ugliest fellow in the whole town, shall think himself a 
 mirror of beauty : another shall be so proud of his parts, 
 that if he can but mark out a triangle with a pair of 
 compasses, he thinks he has mastered all the difficulties 
 of geometry, and could outdo Euclid himself. A third 
 shall admire himself for a ravishing musician, though 
 he have no more skill in the handling of any instrument 
 than a pig has of playing on the organ : and another, 
 that rattles in the throat as hoarse as a cock crows, shall 
 be proud of his voice, and think that he sings like a 
 nightingale. 
 
 There is another very pleasant sort of madness, 
 whereby persons assume to themselves whatever of ac- 
 complishment they discern in others. Thus the happy 
 rich churl in Seneca, who had so short a memory, that
 
 The Grammarian.
 
 The Restorative of Youth.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 163 
 
 he could not tell the least story without a servant stand- 
 ing by to prompt him, and was at the same time so weak 
 that he could scarce go upright, yet he thought he might 
 adventure to acccept a challenge to a duel, because he 
 kept at home some lusty, sturdy fellows, whose strength 
 he relied upon instead of his own. 
 
 It is almost needless to insist upon the several profess- 
 ors of arts and sciences, who are all so egregiously con- 
 ceited, that they would sooner give up their title to an 
 estate in lands, than part with the reversion of their 
 wits : among these, more especially stage-players, mu- 
 sicians, orators, and poets, each of which, the more of 
 duncery they have, and the more of pride, the greater is 
 their ambition : and how notoriously soever dull they be, 
 they meet with their admirers ; nay, the more silly they 
 are the higher they are extolled; Folly (as we have before 
 intimated) never failing of respect and esteem. If there- 
 fore every one, the more ignorant he is, the greater sat- 
 isfaction he is to himself, and the more commended by 
 others, to what purpose is it to sweat and toil in the pur- 
 suit of true learning, which shall cost so many gripes 
 and pangs of the brain to acquire, and when obtained, 
 shall only make the laborious student more uneasy to 
 himself, and less acceptable to others ? 
 
 As nature ,in her dispensation of conceitedness has 
 dealt with private persons, so has she given a particular 
 smatch of self-love to each country and nation. Upon 
 this account it is that the English challenge the prerog- 
 ative of having the most handsome women, of being the 
 most accomplished in the science of music, and of keep- 
 ing the best tables. The Scotch brag of their gentility,
 
 164 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 and pretend the genius of their native soil inclines them 
 to be good disputants. The French think themselves 
 remarkable for complaisance and good breeding ; the 
 Sorbonists of Paris pretend before any others to have 
 made the greatest proficiency in polemic divinity. The 
 Italians value themselves for learning and eloquence ; 
 and, like the Grecians of old, account all the world bar- 
 barians compared to themselves; to which piece of vanity 
 the inhabitants of Rome are more especially addicted, 
 pretending themselves to be owners of all those heroic 
 virtues, which their city so many ages since was deserv- 
 edly famous for. The Venitians stand upon their birth 
 and pedigree. The Grecians pride themselves in having 
 been the first inventors of most arts, and in their country 
 being famed for the product of so many eminent philos- 
 ophers. The Turks, and all the other refuse of Ma- 
 hometanism, pretend they profess the only true religion, 
 and laugh at all Christians for superstitious, narrow- 
 souled fools. The Jews to this day expect their Messias 
 as devoutly as they believe in their first prophet Moses. 
 The Spaniards challenge the repute of being accounted 
 good soldiers. And the Germans are noted for their tall, 
 proper stature, and for their skill in magic. 
 
 But not to mention any more, I suppose you are 
 already convinced how great an improvement and addi- 
 tion to the happiness of human life is occasioned by self- 
 love : the next step to which is flattery ; for as self-love 
 is nothing but the coaxing up of ourselves, so the same 
 currying and humoring of others is termed flattery. 
 
 Flattery, it is true, is now looked upon as a scandalous 
 name, but it is by such only as mind words more than
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 167 
 
 things. They are prejudiced against it upon this account, 
 because they suppose it jostles out all truth and sincerity, 
 whereas indeed its property is quite contrary, as appears 
 from the examples of several brute creatures. What is 
 more fawning than a spaniel ? And yet what animal is 
 more faithful to its master ? What is more fond and 
 loving than a tame squirrel? And yet what is more 
 sportive and inoffensive? This little frisking creature 
 is kept up in a cage to play withal, while lions, tigers, 
 leopards, and such other savage emblems of rapine and 
 cruelty are shown only for their great rarity, and other- 
 wise yield no pleasure to their respective keepers. 
 
 There is indeed a pernicious and destructive sort of 
 flattery wherewith rookers and sharks work their several 
 ends upon such as they can make a prey of, by decoying 
 them into traps and snares beyond recovery. But that 
 which is the effect of folly is of a very different nature ; 
 it proceeds from a softness of spirit, and a flexibleness of 
 good humor, and comes far nearer to virtue than that 
 other extreme of friendship, namely, a stiff, sour, dogged 
 moroseness : it refreshes our minds when tired, enlivens 
 them when melancholy, reinforces them when languish- 
 ing, invigorates them when heavy, recovers them when 
 sick, and pacifies them when rebellious : it puts us in a 
 method of procuring friends, and learns us how to keep 
 them ; it entices children to swallow the bitter rudiments 
 of learning ; it gives a new ferment to the almost stag- 
 nated souls of old men ; it both reproves and inculcates 
 principles without offence under the mask of commenda- 
 tion : in short, it makes every man fond and indulgent 
 of himself, which is indeed no small part of each man's
 
 1 68 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 happiness, and at the same time renders him obliging 
 and complaisant in all company, where it is pleasant to 
 see how the asses rub and scratch one another. 
 
 This again is a great accomplishment to an orator, a 
 greater to a physician, and the only one to a poet : in 
 fine, it is the best sweetener to all afflictions, and gives 
 a true relish to the otherwise insipid enjoyments of our 
 whole life. "Aye," (say you) " to flatter is to deceive ; 
 to deceive is very wrong and hurtful." No, rather just 
 the reverse ; nothing is more welcome and bewitching 
 than the being deceived. They are much to be blamed 
 for an undistinguishing head, that make a judgment of 
 things according to what they are in themselves, when 
 their whole nature consists barely in the opinions that 
 are had of them. 
 
 For all sublinary matters are enveloped in such a 
 cloud of obscurity, that the short-sightedness of human 
 understanding, cannot pry through nor arrive at any 
 comprehensive knowledge of them : hence the sect of 
 academic philosophers have modestly resolved, that all 
 things being no more than probable, nothing can be 
 known as certain ; or if there could, yet it would but 
 interrupt and abate from the pleasure of a more happy 
 gnorance. Finally, our souls are so fashioned and 
 moulded, that they are sooner captivated by appearances 
 than by real truths ; of which, if any one would demand 
 an example, he may find a familiar one in churches, 
 where, if what is delivered from the pulpit be a grave, 
 solid, rational discourse, all the congregation grow weary 
 and fall asleep, till their patience be released ; whereas, 
 if the preacher (pardon the impropriety of the word, the
 
 The Two Asses.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 171 
 
 prater I should have said) be zealous, in his thumps of 
 the cushion, his antic gestures, and spends his time in 
 the telling of pleasant stories, his beloved shall then 
 stand up, tuck their hair behind their ears, and be very 
 devoutly attentive. 
 
 So among the saints, those are most resorted to who 
 are most romantic and fabulous : as for instance, a poetic 
 St. George, a St. Christopher, or a St. Barbara, shall be 
 oftener prayed to than St. Peter, St. Paul, nay, perhaps 
 than Christ himself ; but this, it is possible, may more 
 probably be referred to another place. 
 
 In the mean while observe what a cheap purchase of 
 happiness is made by the strength of fancy. For whereas 
 many things even of inconsiderable value, would cost a 
 great deal of pains and perhaps pelf, to procure ; opinion 
 spares charges, and yet gives us them in as ample a 
 manner by conceit, as if we possessed them in reality. 
 Thus he who feeds on such a stinking dish of fish, as 
 another must hold his nose at a yard's distance from, yet 
 if he feed heartily, and relish them palatably, they are 
 to him as good as if they were freshly caught ; whereas, 
 on the other hand, if any one be invited to never so 
 dainty a joul of sturgeon, if it go against his stomach to 
 eat any, he may sit a hungry, and bite his nails with 
 greater appetite than his victuals. If a woman be never 
 so ugly and nauseous, yet if her husband can but think 
 her handsome, it is all one to him as if she really were 
 so : if any man have never so ordinary and disagreeable 
 a drawing, yet if he admires the excellency of it, and 
 can suppose it to have been drawn by some old Apelles, 
 or modern Vandyke, he is as proud of it as if it had really
 
 172 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 been drawn by one of them. I knew a friend of mine 
 that presented his bride with several false and counterfeit 
 stones, making her believe that they were real jewels, 
 and cost him many hundred thousand crowns. Under 
 this impression the deluded woman was as choice of peb- 
 bles and painted glass, as if they had been so many nat- 
 ural rubies and diamonds, while the subtle husband 
 saved a large amount in his pocket, and yet made his 
 wife as well pleased as if he had been at ten hundred 
 times the cost. What difference is there between them 
 that in the darkest dungeon can with a platonic brain 
 survey the whole world in idea, and him that stands in 
 the open air, and takes a less deluding prospect of the 
 universe ? If the beggar in L,ucian, that dreamt he 
 was a prince, had never waked, his imaginary kingdom 
 had been as great as a real one. Between him therefore 
 that truly is happy, and him that thinks himself so, 
 there is no perceivable distinction ; or if any, the fool 
 has the better of it : first, because his happiness costs 
 him less, standing him only in the price of a single 
 thought ; and then, secondly, because he has more fellow- 
 companions and partakers of his good fortune ; for no 
 enjoyment is desirable where the benefit is not imparted 
 to others ; nor is any one station in life desirable, where 
 we can have no converse with persons of the same con- 
 dition with ourselves : and yet this is the hard fate of 
 wise men, who are grown so scarce, that like the fabled 
 Phoenix, but one appears in an age. 
 
 The Grecians, it is true, reckoned up seven within 
 the narrow precints of their own country ; yet I believe, 
 were they to cast up their accounts anew, they would not
 
 Imaginary Excellence.
 
 The Juice Yielding Grape.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 177 
 
 find a half, nay, not a third part, of one in far larger 
 extent. 
 
 Farther, when among the several good properties of 
 Bacchus this is looked upon as the chief, namely, thaf 
 he drowns the cares and anxieties of the mind, though it 
 be indeed but for a short time ; for after a small nap, 
 when our brains are a little settled, they all return to 
 their former corrodings. How much greater is the more 
 durable advantage which I bring? while by one uninter- 
 rupted state of being drunk in conceit, I perpetually 
 cajole the mind with riots, revels, and all the excess and 
 energy of joy. 
 
 Add to this, that I am so communicative and bounti- 
 ful, as to let no one particular person pass without some 
 token of my favor ; whereas other deities bestow their 
 gifts sparingly to their elect only. Bacchus has not 
 thought fit that every soil should bear the same juice- 
 yielding grape : Venus has not given to all a like portion 
 of beauty : Mercury endows but few with the gift of a 
 persuasive eloquence : Hercules gives not to all the same 
 measure of wealth and power : Jupiter has destined but 
 a few to inherit a kingdom : Mars in battle gives but 
 to one party a complete victory ; and often he makes 
 them both losers : Apollo answers not the expectations 
 of all who consult his oracles : Jove oft thunders : 
 Phoebus sometimes shoots the plague or some other 
 infectious disease at the point of his darts: and Neptune 
 swallows down remorselessly many who trust his 
 treacherous waves : not to mention their Ve-Jupiters, 
 their Plutos, their Ate, goddess of loss, their evil gen- 
 iuses, and such other monsters of divinity, as had more
 
 178 THE PRAISE OF FOIAY. 
 
 of the hangman than the god in them, and were wor- 
 shiped only to deprecate that hurt which used to be in- 
 flicted by them : I say, not to mention these, I am that 
 high and mighty goddess, whose liberality is of as large 
 an extent as her omnipotence : I give to all that ask : I 
 never appear sullen, nor out of humor, nor ever demand 
 any atonement or satisfaction for the omission of any 
 ceremonious punctilio in my worship : I do not storm 
 or rage, if mortals, in their addresses to the other gods 
 pass me by unregarded, without the acknowledgment of 
 any respect or application : whereas all the other gods 
 are so scrupulous and exact, that it often proves less dan- 
 gerous manfully to despise them, than sneakingly to 
 attempt the difficulty of pleasing them. Thus some 
 men are of that captious, perverse humor, that a man 
 had better be wholly strangers to them, than never so 
 intimate friends. 
 
 Well, but there are none (say you) who build any 
 altars, or dedicate any temple to Folly. I am surprised 
 (as I have before intimated) that the world should be so 
 wretchedly ungrateful. But I am so good-natured as to 
 pass by and pardon this seeming affront, though indeed 
 the charge thereof, as unnecessary, may well be saved ; 
 for to what purpose should I demand the sacrifice of 
 frankincense, cakes, goats, and swine, since all persons 
 everywhere pay me that more acceptable service, which 
 all divines agree to be more effectual and meritorious, 
 namely, an imitation of my various attributes? I do 
 not therefore envy Diana for having her altars bedewed 
 with human blood : I think myself then most religiously 
 adored, when my respective devotees (as is their usual
 
 The Worship of Descent.
 
 An Apostle.
 
 The Strength of Fancy.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 183 
 
 custom) conform themselves to my practice, transcribe 
 my pattern, and so live the copy of me their original. 
 And truly this pious devotion is not so much in use 
 among Christians as is much to be wished it were : for 
 how many zealous votaries are there that pay so profound 
 a respect to the Virgin Mary, as to place lighted tapers 
 even at noon day upon her altars ? And yet how few of 
 them copy after her untouched chastity, her modesty, 
 and her other commendable virtues, in the imitation 
 whereof consists the truest esteem of divine worship ? 
 Farther, why should I desire a temple, since the whole 
 world is but one ample continued choir, entirely dedica- 
 ted to my use and service ? Nor do I want worshipers 
 at any place where the earth wants not inhabitants. 
 And as to the manner of my worship, I am not yet so 
 irrecoverably foolish, as to be prayed to by proxy, and 
 to have my honor intermediately bestowed upon sense- 
 less images and pictures, which quite subvert the true 
 end of religion ; while the unwary supplicants seldom 
 distinguish betwixts the things themselves and the ob- 
 jects they represent. 
 
 The same respect in the meanwhile is paid to me in a 
 more legitimate manner ; for to me there are as many 
 statues erected as there are moving fabrics of mortality ; 
 every person, even against his own will, carrying the 
 image of me, i.e., the seal of Folly instamped upon 
 his countenance. 
 
 I have not therefore the least tempting inducement 
 to envy the more seeming state and splendor of the other 
 gods, who are worshiped at set times and places ; as 
 Phoebus at Rhodes, Venus in her Cyprian isle, Juno in
 
 184 THE PRAISE OF 
 
 the city of Argos, Minerva at Athens, Jupiter on the 
 hill Olympus, Neptune at Tarentum, and Priapus in 
 the town of L,ampsacum ; while my worship extending 
 as far as my influence, the whole world is my one altar, 
 whereon the most valuble incense and sacrifice is perpet- 
 ually offered up. 
 
 But lest I should seem to speak this with more of con- 
 fidence than truth, let us take a nearer view of the mode 
 of men's lives, whereby it will be rendered more appar- 
 ently evident what largesses I everywhere bestow, and 
 how much I am respected and esteemed by persons from 
 the highest to the lowest quality. For the proof whereof, 
 it being too tedious to insist upon each particular, I shall 
 only mention such in general as are most worthy the 
 remark, from which by analogy we may easily judge of 
 the remainder. And indeed to what purpose would it 
 be singly to recount the commonality and rabble of man- 
 kind, who beyond all question are entirely on my side ? 
 and for a token of their vassalage do wear my livery in 
 so many older shapes, and more newly invented modes 
 of Folly, that the lungs of a thousand Democrituses 
 would never hold out to such a laughter as this subje<5l 
 would excite ; and to these thousand must be super- 
 added one more, to laugh at them as much as they do 
 at the other. 
 
 It is indeed almost incredible to relate what mirth, 
 what sport, what diversion, the groveling inhabitants 
 here on earth give to the above-seated gods in heaven : 
 for these exalted deities spend their fasting sober hours 
 in listening to those petitions that are offered up, and in 
 succoring such as appeal to them for redress ; but when
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 185 
 
 they have imbibed a glass of nectar, they throw off all 
 serious concerns, placing themselves on the ascent of 
 some promontory in heaven, and from thence surveying 
 the little mole-hill of earth. And trust me, there cannot 
 be a more delightsome prospect, than to view such a 
 theatre so stuffed and crammed with swarms of fools. 
 
 One falls desperately in love, and the more he is 
 slighted the more does his spaniel-like passion increase ; 
 another is wedded to wealth rather than to a wife; a 
 fourth is haunted with a jealousy of his visiting neigh- 
 bors ; another sobs and roars, and plays the child, for 
 the death of a friend or relative ; and lest his own tears 
 should not rise high enough to express the torrent of his 
 grief, he hires other mourners to accompany the corpse 
 to the grave, and sing its requiem in sighs and lamenta- 
 tions ; another hypocritically weeps at the funeral of one 
 whose death at heart he rejoices for ; here a gluttonous 
 cormorant, whatever he can scrape up, thrusts all down 
 his throat to pacify the cryings of a hungry stomach ; 
 there a lazy wretch sits yawning and stretching, and 
 thinks nothing so desirable as sleep and idleness ; some 
 are extremely industrious in other men's business, and 
 sottishly neglectful of their own; some think themselves 
 rich because their credit is good, though they can never 
 pay, till they fail, and compound for their debts ; one is 
 so covetous that he lives poor to die rich ; one for a little 
 uncertain gain will venture to cross the roughest seas, 
 and expose his life for the purchase of a livelihood ; an- 
 other will depend on the plunders of war, rather than on 
 the honest gains of peace ; some will close with and 
 humor such warm old blades as have a good estate, and no
 
 1 86 THB PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 children of their own to bestow it upon; others practice 
 the same art of wheedling upon good old women, that have 
 hoarded and coffered up more bags than they know how 
 to dispose of ; both of these sly flatteries make fine sport 
 for the gods, when they are beaten at their own weapons, 
 and (as oft happens) are gulled by those very persons 
 they intended to make a prey of. 
 
 There is another sort of base scoundrels in gentility, 
 such obsequious merchants, who, although they lie, 
 swear, cheat, and practice all the intrigues of dishonesty, 
 yet think themselves no way inferior to persons of the 
 highest quality, only because they have raked together a 
 plentiful estate ; and there are not wanting such insinu- 
 ating hangers on, as shall caress and compliment them 
 with the greatest respect, in hopes of going snacks in 
 some of their dishonest gains. There are others so in- 
 fected with the philosophical paradox of banishing prop- 
 erty, and having all things in common, that they make 
 no conscience of fastening on, and purloining whatever 
 they can get, and converting it to their own use and 
 possession ; there are some who are rich only in wishes, 
 and yet while they barely dream of vast mountains of 
 wealth, they are as happy as if their imaginary fancies 
 were real truths ; some put on the best side outermost, 
 and starve themselves at home to appear gay and splen- 
 did abroad ; one with an open handed freedom spends 
 all he lays his fingers on ; another with a logic-fisted 
 gripingness catches at and grasps all he can come within 
 the reach of; one apes it about the streets to court pop- 
 ularity ; another consults his ease, and sticks to the con- 
 finement of a chimney-corner ; many others are tugging
 
 The Pilgrim.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 189 
 
 hard at law for a trifle, and drive on an endless suit, only 
 to enrich a deferring judge, or a knavish advocate ; one 
 is for new-modeling a settled government ; another is for 
 some notably heroic attempt ; and a third by all means 
 must travel a pilgrim to Rome, Jerusalem, or some shrine 
 of a saint elsewhere, though he have no other business 
 than the paying of a formal obsequious visit, leaving his 
 wife and children to fast, while he himself, forsooth, is 
 gone to pray. 
 
 In short, if (as Lucian fancies Menippus to have done 
 heretofore,) any man could now again look down from 
 the orb of the moon, he would see thick swarms as it 
 were of flies and gnats, that were quarreling with each 
 other, jostling, fighting, fluttering, skipping, playing, 
 newly produced soon after decaying, and then immedi- 
 ately vanishing, and it can scarce be imagined how 
 many tumults and tragedies so inconsiderate a creature 
 as man doth give occasion to, and that, in so short a 
 space as the small span of human life, which is subject 
 to so many casualties of sword, flame, famine, and pesti- 
 lence, which often sweeps away thousands in the briefest 
 periods of time. 
 
 But hold ; I should but expose myself too far, and in- 
 cur the guilt of being roundly laughed at, if I proceed to 
 enumerate the several kinds of the folly of the vulgar. 
 I shall confine my following discourse, therefore, to such 
 only as challenge the repute of wisdom, and seemingly 
 pass for men of the soundest intellects. 
 
 And among these the Grammarians present themselves 
 in the front, a sort of men who would be the most mis- 
 erable, the most slavish, and the most hateful of all per-
 
 IQO THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 sons, if I did not in some way alleviate the cares and 
 miseries of their profession by blessing them with a be- 
 witching sort of madness : for they are not only liable 
 to those five curses, which they so oft recite from the 
 first five verses of Homer, but to five hundred more of a 
 worse nature ; as being always damned to thirst and hun- 
 ger, to be choked with dust in their unswept schools, 
 (schools shall I term them, or rather laboratories, nay, 
 bridewells, and houses of correction?) to wear them- 
 selves out in fret and drudgery ; to be deafened with the 
 noise of gaping boys ; and in short, to be stifled with 
 heat and stench ; and yet they cheerfully endure all 
 these inconveniences and, by the help of a fond conceit, 
 they think themselves as happy as any men living : 
 taking a great pride and delight in frowning and looking 
 fierce upon the trembling urchins, in boxing the ears, 
 slashing, striking with the ferula, and in the exercise of 
 all their other methods of tyranny ; while thus lording 
 it over a parcel of young, weak chits, they imitate the 
 Cuman ass, and think themselves as stately as a lion, 
 that domineers over all the inferior herd. Elevated with 
 this conceit, they can hold filth and nastiness to be an 
 ornament ; reconcile their nose to the most intolerable 
 smells ; and finally think that their wretched surround- 
 ings are the most pleasant and desirable that can be 
 conceived, and which they would not consent to ex- 
 change for the jurisdiction of the most sovereign poten- 
 tate. And they are yet more happy by a strong per- 
 suasion of their own parts and abilities ; for thus when 
 their employment is only to rehearse silly stories, and 
 poetical fictions, they will yet think themselves wiser
 
 The Professor.
 
 The Fabulous Story.
 
 The Rich Man.
 
 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 195 
 
 than the most experienced philosopher ; nay, they have 
 an art of making ordinary people, (such as their school 
 boys' fond parents,) think them as considerable as their 
 own pride has made them. 
 
 Add hereunto this other sort of ravishing pleasure. 
 When any of them has found out who was the mother of 
 Anchises, or has lighted upon some old unusual word, 
 such as bubsequa ; bovinator ; manticulator ; or other 
 like obsolete cramp terms ; or can, after a great deal of 
 poring, spell out the inscription of some battered monu- 
 ment ; Lord, what joy, what triumph, what congratula- 
 tions of their success, as if they had conquered Africa, or 
 taken Babylon the Great ! 
 
 When they recite some of their frothy, bombastic verses, 
 if any happen to admire them, they are presently flushed 
 with the least hint of commendation, and devoutly thank 
 Pythagoras for his grateful hypothesis, whereby they 
 have now become actuated with a descent of Virgil's po- 
 etic soul. Nor is any divertisement more pleasant, than 
 when they meet to flatter and curry one another ; yet 
 they are so critical, that if any one happen to be guilty 
 of the least slip, or seeming blunder, another shall pres- 
 ently correct him for it, and then to it they go in a 
 tongue-combat, with all the fervor, spleen, and eagerness 
 imaginable. May Priscian himself be my enemy, if what 
 I am now going to say be not exactly true. 
 
 I knew an old Sophister that was a Grecian, a latinist, 
 a mathematician, a philosopher, a musician, and all to 
 the utmost perfection ; who, after threescore years' ex- 
 perience in the world, had spent the last twenty of them 
 only in drudging to conquer the criticisms of grammar,
 
 196 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 and made it the chief part of his prayers, that his life 
 might be so long spared till he had learned how rightly 
 to distinguish betwixt the eight parts of speech, which 
 no grammarian, whether Greek or I<atin, had yet accu- 
 rately done. If any have chanced to place that as a con- 
 junction which ought to have been used as an adverb, it 
 is a sufficient cause to raise an alarm for doing justice to 
 the injured word. And since there have been as many 
 several grammars, as particular grammarians (nay, more, 
 for Aldus alone wrote five distinct grammars for his own 
 share), the schoolmaster must be obliged to consult them 
 all, sparing for no time nor trouble, though never so 
 great, lest he should be otherwise posed in an unobserved 
 criticism, and so by an irreparable disgrace lose the re- 
 ward of all his toil. 
 
 It is indifferent to me whether you call this folly or 
 madness, since you must needs confess that it is by my 
 influence these school tyrants, though in never so despic- 
 able a condition, are so happy in their own thoughts, 
 that they would not change fortunes with the most illus- 
 trious Sophi of Persia. 
 
 The Poets, however somewhat less beholden to me, 
 own a professed dependence on me, being a sort of law- 
 less blades, that by prescription claim a license to a 
 proverb, while the whole intent of their profession is 
 only to smooth up and tickle the ears of fools, that by 
 mere toys and fabulous shams, with which, (however 
 ridiculous) they are so bolstered up in an airy imagina- 
 tion, as to win for themselves an everlasting name, and 
 promise, by their balderdash, at the same time to cele- 
 brate the never-dying memory of others. To these rap-
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 197 
 
 turous wits self-love and flattery are never-failing attend- 
 ants ; nor do any prove more zealous or constant devo- 
 tees to folly. 
 
 The Rhetoricians likewise, though they are ambitious 
 of being ranked among the Philosophers, yet are appar- 
 ently of my faction, as appears among other arguments, 
 by this more especially ; in that among their several 
 topics of completing the art of oratory, they all particu- 
 larly insist upon the knack of jesting, which is one spe- 
 cies of folly ; as is evident from the books of oratory 
 written to Herennius, put among Cicero's works, but 
 done by some unknown author ; and in Quintilian, that 
 great master of eloquence, there is one entire chapter 
 used in describing the methods of raising laughter. In 
 short, they may well attribute a great efficacy to Folly, 
 since on any argument they may use, they can many 
 times triumph by a slight laugh over what they could 
 never seriously confute. 
 
 Of the same gang are those scribbling fops, who think 
 to eternize their memory by setting up for authors : 
 among which, though they are all in some way in- 
 debted to me, yet are those more especially so, who 
 spoil paper in blotting it with mere trifles and im- 
 pertinences. For as to those graver drudgers to the 
 press, that write learnedly, beyond the reach of an ordi- 
 nary reader, who dare submit their labors to the review 
 of the most severe critic, these are not so liable to be 
 envied for their honor, as to be pitied for their toil and 
 slavery. They make additions, alterations, blot out, 
 write anew, amend, interline, turn it upside down, and 
 yet can never please their fickle judgment, but that they
 
 198 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 shall dislike the next hour what they penned in the for- 
 mer ; and all this to purchase the airy commendations 
 of a few critical readers, which at most is but a poor 
 reward for all their fastings, watchings, confinements, 
 and brain-breaking tortures of invention. 
 
 Add to this the impairing of their health, the weaken- 
 ing of their constitution, their contracting sore eyes, or 
 perhaps turning stark blind ; their poverty, their envy, 
 their debarment from all pleasures, their hastening on 
 old age, their untimely death, and what other inconveni- 
 ences of a like or worse nature can be thought upon ; 
 and yet the recompense for all this severe penance is at 
 best no more than a mouthful or two of frothy praise. 
 
 These, as they are more laborious, so are they less 
 happy than those other hackneyed scribblers which I 
 first mentioned, who never stand much to consider, but 
 write what comes next at a venture, knowing that the 
 more silly their compositions are, the more will they be 
 bought up by the greater number of readers, who are 
 fools and blockheads ; and if they should happen to be 
 condemned by some few judicious persons, it is an easy 
 matter by clamor to drown their censure, and to silence 
 them by urging the more numerous commendations of 
 others. They are yet the wisest who transcribe whole 
 discourses from others, and then reprint them as their 
 own. By doing so they make a cheap and easy seizure 
 to themselves of that reputation which cost the first au- 
 thor so much time and trouble to procure. If however, 
 they are at any time pricked a little in conscience for 
 fear of discovery, they console themselves with this 
 thought, that if they are at last found guilty of plagia-
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 199 
 
 rism, yet at least for some time they have enjoyed the 
 credit of passing for genuine authors. 
 
 It is a pleasure to see how all these several writers are 
 puffed up with the least blast of applause, especially if 
 they come to the honor of being pointed at as they walk 
 along the streets ; when their several pieces are laid open 
 upon every bookseller's stall, when their names are em- 
 bossed in a different character upon the title-page, some- 
 times only with the two first letters, and sometimes with 
 fictitious titles, which few shall understand the meaning 
 of; and of those that do, all shall not agree in their 
 verdict of the performance ; some censuring, others ap- 
 proving it, men's judgments being as different as their 
 palates, that being toothsome to one which is unsavory 
 and nauseous to another, though it is a sneaking piece 
 of cowardice for authors to put feigned names to their 
 works, as if, like bastards of their brain, they were afraid 
 to own them. Thus one styles himself Telemachus, 
 another Stelenus, a third Polycrates, another Thrasyma- 
 chus, and so on. By the same liberty we may ransack 
 the whole alphabet, and jumble together any letters that 
 come next to hand. 
 
 It is farther very pleasant when these coxcombs em- 
 ploy their pens in writing congratulatory epistles, poems 
 and panegyrics, upon each other, wherein one shall be 
 complimented with the title of Alcaeus, another as the 
 incomparable Callimachus ; this shall be commended as a 
 more complete orator than Tully himself ; a fourth shall 
 be told by his fellow-fool that the divine Plato comes 
 short of him for a philosophic soul. Sometimes again 
 they take up the cudgels, and challenge an antagonist,
 
 2OO THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 and so get a name by a combat at dispute and contro- 
 versy while the unwary readers draw sides according to 
 their different judgments. The longer the quarrel holds 
 the more irreconcilable it grows ; and when both parties 
 are weary, they each pretend themselves the conquerors, 
 and both lay claim to the credit of coming off with 
 victory. 
 
 These fooleries make sport for wise men, as being 
 highly absurd, ridiculous and extravagant. True, but 
 yet these paper combatants, by my assistance, are so 
 flushed with a conceit of their own greatness, that they 
 prefer the solving of a syllogism before the sacking of 
 Carthage ; and upon the defeat of a poor objection carry 
 themselves more triumphantly than the most victorious 
 Scipio. 
 
 Nay, even the learned and more judicious, that have 
 wit enough to laugh at the other's folly, are very much 
 beholden to my goodness, which (except ingratitude has 
 drowned their ingenuity,) they must be ready upon all 
 occasions to confess. 
 
 Among these I suppose the lawyers will shuffle in for 
 precedence, and they of all men have the greatest conceit 
 of their own abilities. They will argue as confidently 
 as if they spoke gospel instead of law ; they will cite you 
 six hundred precedents, though not one of them come 
 near to the case in hand ; they will muster up the au- 
 thority of judgments, deeds, glosses, and reports, and 
 tumble over so many musty records, that they make 
 their employment, though in itself easy, the greatest 
 slavery imaginable ; always accounting that the best 
 plea which they have taken the most pains to produce.
 
 The Rhetorician.
 
 ^^^ 
 
 The Divine.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 205 
 
 To these, as bearing a great resemblance to them, may 
 be added logicians and sophisters, fellows that talk as 
 much by rote as a parrot ; who shall run down a whole 
 bevy of gossiping old women, nay, silence the very noise 
 of a belfry, with louder clappers than those of the steeple ; 
 and if their unappeasable clamorousness were their only 
 fault it would admit of some excuse ; but they are at the 
 same time so fierce and quarrelsome, that they will wran- 
 gle bloodily for the least trifle, and be so over intent and 
 eager, that they many times lose their game in the 
 chase, and fright away that truth they are hunting for. 
 
 Yet self-conceit makes these nimble disputants such 
 doughty champions, that armed with three or four close- 
 linked syllogisms, they shall enter the lists with the 
 greatest masters of reason, and not question the foiling 
 of them in an irresistible baffle : nay, their obstinacy 
 makes them so confident of their being in the right, that 
 all the arguments in the world shall never convince them 
 to the contrary. 
 
 Next to these come the philosophers, with their long 
 beards and short cloaks, who esteem themselves as the 
 only favorites of wisdom, and look upon the rest of man- 
 kind as the dirt and rubbish of the creation ; yet these 
 men's happiness is only a frantic craziness of brain. 
 They build castles in the air, and infinite worlds in a 
 vacuum. They will give you to a hair's breadth the 
 dimensions of the sun, moon, and stars, as easily as they 
 would that of a flagon or pipkin : they will give an 
 elaborate account of the cause of thunder, of the origin 
 of the winds, of the nature of eclipses, and of the 
 most abstruse difficulties in physics, without the least
 
 206 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 demur or hesitation, as if they had been admitted into 
 the cabinet council of nature, or had been eye-witnesses 
 to all the methods of creation ; though in facl: nature 
 does but laugh at all their puny conjectures : for they 
 never yet made one considerable discovery, as appears 
 from the fact that on no single point of the smallest 
 moment have they unanimously agreed ; nothing being 
 so plain or evident but that by some one it is opposed 
 and contradicted. 
 
 But although they are ignorant of the unknown cause 
 of the least insect's life, they vaunt however, and brag 
 that they know all things, when indeed they are unable 
 to construe the mechanism of their own bodies : nay, 
 when they are so purblind as not to be able to see a 
 stone's cast before them, yet they shall be as sharp- 
 sighted as possible in spying-out ideas, universals, sepa- 
 rate forms, first matters, quiddities, formalities, and a 
 hundred such like niceties, so diminutively small, that 
 were not their eyes extremely magnifying, all the art of 
 optics could never make them discernible. 
 
 But they most despise the low, groveling vulgar when 
 they bring out their parallels, triangles, circles, and 
 other mathematical figures, drawn up in battalia, like so 
 many spells and charms of conjuration in muster, with 
 letters to refer to the explication of the several problems ; 
 hereby raising devils as it were, only to have the credit 
 of laying them, and exciting the wonder of the ordinary 
 spectators, because they have not wit enough to under- 
 stand the juggle. 
 
 Of these some undertake to profess themselves judicial 
 astrologers, pretending to have correspondence with the
 
 The Sophist.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 209 
 
 stars, and so from their information can resolve any 
 query ; and though it is all but a presumptuous impos- 
 ture, yet some to be sure will be such great fools as to 
 believe them. 
 
 The divines present themselves next ; but it may per- 
 haps be most safe to pass them by, and not to touch upon 
 so harsh a string as this subject would afford. Besides, 
 the undertaking may be very hazardous, for they are a 
 sort of men generally very hot and passionate ; and should 
 I provoke them, I doubt not would set upon me with a 
 full cry, and force me with shame to recant, which if I 
 stubbornly refused to do, they would presently brand me 
 for a heretic, and thunder out an excommunication, 
 which is their spiritual weapon to wound such as lift up 
 a hand against them. 
 
 It is true, no men own a less dependence on Folly, yet 
 have they reason to confess themselves indebted for no 
 small obligations. For it is by one of my properties, self- 
 love, that they fancy themselves, with their elder brother 
 Paul, caught up into the third heaven, from whence, 
 like shepherds indeed, they look down upon their flocks, 
 (the laity,) grazing as it were, in the vales of the world 
 below. They fence themselves in with so many sur- 
 rounders of magisterial definitions, conclusions, corolla- 
 ries, propositions explicit and implicit, that there is no 
 falling in with them ; or if they do chance to be urged 
 to a seeming non-plus, yet they find out so many eva- 
 sions, that all the art of man can never bind them so fast, 
 but that an easy distinction shall give them a starting- 
 hole to escape the scandal of being baffled. 
 
 They will cut asunder the toughest argument with as
 
 310 THE PRAISE OF FOW.Y. 
 
 much ease as Alexander did the Gordian knot ; they will 
 thunder out so many rattling terms as shall affright an 
 adversary into conviction. They are exquisitely dexter- 
 ous in unfolding the most intricate mysteries ; they will 
 tell you to a tittle all the successive proceedings of Om- 
 nipotence in the creation of the universe ; they will ex- 
 plain the precise manner of original sin being derived 
 from our first parents; they will satisfy you in what man- 
 ner, by what degrees, and in how long a time, our Savior 
 was conceived in the Virgin's womb, and demonstrate in 
 the consecrated wafer how accidents may subsist without a 
 subject. Nay, these are accounted trivial, easy questions ; 
 they have yet far greater difficulties behind, which, not- 
 withstanding, they solve with as much expedition as 
 the former ; as namely, whether supernatural genera- 
 tion requires any instant of time for its acting ? whether 
 Christ, as a son, bears a double and specifically distinct 
 relation to God the Father, and his virgin mother? 
 whether this proposition is possible to be true, that the 
 first person of the Trinity hated the second? whether 
 God who took our nature upon him in the form of a man, 
 could as well have become a woman, a devil, a beast, an 
 herb, or a stone? and if it were possible that if the God- 
 head had appeared in any shape of an inanimate sub- 
 stance, how he should then have preached his gospel ? 
 or how have been nailed to the cross ? whether if St. 
 Peter had celebrated the eucharist at the same time our 
 Savior was hanging on the cross, the consecrated bread 
 would have been transubstantiated into the same body 
 that remained on the tree ? whether in Christ's corporal 
 presence in the sacramental wafer, his humanity be not
 
 The Schoolman.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 213 
 
 abstracted from his Godhead ? whether after the resur- 
 rection we shall carnally eat and drink as we do in this 
 life? 
 
 There are a thousand other more sublimated and re- 
 fined niceities of notions, relations, quantities, formalities, 
 quiddities, hsecceities, and such like abstrusities, as one 
 would think no one could pry into, except he had not 
 only such cat's eyes as to see best in the dark, but even 
 such a piercing faculty as to see through an inch-board, 
 and spy out what really never existed. 
 
 Add to these some of their tenets and beliefs, which 
 are so absurd and extravagant, that the wildest fancies 
 of the Stoics, which they so much disdain and decry as 
 paradoxes, seem in comparison just and rational; as their 
 maintaining, that it is a less aggravating fault to kill a 
 hundred men, than for a poor cobbler to set a stitch on 
 the sabbath-day ; or, that it is more justifiable to do the 
 greatest injury imaginable to others, than to tell the least 
 lie ourselves. 
 
 And these subtleties are alchemized to a more refined 
 sublimate by the abstracting brains of their several 
 schoolmen ; the Realists, the Nominalists, the Thomists, 
 the Albertists, the Occamists, the Scotists ; and these 
 are not all, but the rehearsal of a few only, as a speci- 
 men of their divided sects ; in each of which there is 
 so much of deep learning, so much of unfathomable dif- 
 ficulty, that I believe the apostles themselves would 
 stand in need of a jiew illuminating spirit, if they were 
 to engage in any controversy with these new divines. 
 
 St. Paul, without question, had a full measure of faith, 
 yet when he lays down faith to be the substance of things
 
 214 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 not seen, these men carp at it for an imperfect definition, 
 and would undertake to teach the apostles better logic. 
 Thus, the same holy author wanted for nothing of the 
 grace of charity, yet, say they, he describes and defines 
 it but very inaccurately when he treats of it in the thir- 
 teenth chapter of his first Epistle to the Corinthians. 
 
 The primitive disciples were very frequent in admin- 
 istering the holy sacrament, breaking bread from house 
 to house ; yet should they be asked of the Terminus a 
 quo and the Terminus ad quern, the nature of transub- 
 stantiation ? the possibility of one body being in several 
 different places at the same time ? the difference betwixt 
 the several attributes of Christ in heaven, on the cross, 
 and in the consecrated bread ? what time is required for 
 the transubstantiating of the bread into flesh? how it 
 can be done by a short sentence pronounced by the priest, 
 which sentence is a species of discreet quantity, that has 
 no permanent punctu m ? 
 
 Were they asked, (I say,) these and several other con- 
 fused queries, I do not believe they could answer so 
 readily as our mincing school-men now-a-days take a 
 pride in doing. 
 
 They were well acquainted with the Virgin Mary, yet 
 none of them undertook to prove that she was preserved 
 immaculate from original sin, as some of our divines 
 now very hotly contend for. 
 
 St. Peter had the keys of heaven given to him, and 
 that by our Savior himself, who had never entrusted 
 him except he had known him capable of their manage- 
 ment and custody ; and yet it is much to be questioned 
 whether Peter was sensible of that subtle^ broached by
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 215 
 
 Scotus, that he may have the key of knowledge effectu- 
 ally for others who has no knowledge actually in him- 
 self. 
 
 Again, they baptized all nations, and yet never taught 
 what was the formal, material, efficient, and final cause 
 of baptism, and certainly never dreamt of distinguishing 
 between a delible and an indelible character in this sac- 
 rament. 
 
 They worshiped in the spirit, following their master's 
 injunction, ' ' God is a spirit, and they which worship him, 
 must worship him in spirit and in truth ; ' ' yet it does 
 not appear that it was ever revealed to them how divine 
 adoration should be paid at the same time to our blessed 
 Savior in heaven, and to his picture here below on a 
 wall, drawn with arm extended, two fingers held out, a 
 bald crown, and a circle round his head. 
 
 To reconcile these intricacies to an appearance of rea- 
 son, requires three-score years in the study of meta- 
 physics. 
 
 Farther, the apostles often mention Grace, yet never 
 distinguish between gratia, gratis data, and gratia 
 gratificans. They earnestly exhort us likewise to good 
 works, yet never explain the difference between Opus 
 operans, and Opus operatum. They very frequently 
 press and invite us to seek after charity, without dividing 
 it into infused and acquired, or determining whether it 
 be a substance or an accident, a created or an uncreated 
 being. They detested sin themselves, and warned 
 others from the commission of it ; and yet I am sure 
 they could never have defined so dogmatically, as the 
 Scotists have since done.
 
 2l6 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 St. Paul, who in other's judgment is no less the chief 
 of the apostles than he was in his own the chief of sin- 
 ners, who being bred at the feet of Gamaliel, was cer- 
 tainly more eminently a scholar than any of the rest, 
 yet he often exclaims against vain philosophy, warns us 
 from debating about questions and strifes of words, and 
 charges us to avoid profane and vain babblings, and op- 
 positions of science, falsely so called; which he would 
 not have done, if he had thought it worth his while to 
 have become acquainted with them, which he might 
 soon have been, the disputes of that age being but 
 small, and mere intelligible sophisms, in comparison to 
 the vastly greater intricacies they are now improved into. 
 But yet, however, our scholastic divines are so modest, 
 that if they meet with any passage in St. Paul, or any 
 other penman of holy writ, not modeled or critically dis- 
 posed of as they could wish, they will not roughly con- 
 demn it, but bend it rather to a favorable interpretation, 
 out of reverence to antiquity, and respect to the holy 
 scriptures ; though indeed it were unreasonable to ex- 
 peel; anything of this nature from the apostles, whose 
 lord and master had given unto them to know the mys- 
 teries of God, but not those of philosophy. 
 
 If the same divines meet with anything of like nature 
 unpalatable in St. Chrysostom, St. Basil, St. Hierom, or 
 others of the fathers, they will not hesitate to appeal 
 from their authority, and even to resolve that they lay 
 under a mistake. 
 
 Yet these ancient fathers were they who confuted both 
 the Jews and Heathen, though they both obstinately 
 adhered to their respective prejudices ; they confuted
 
 The Prayer for Forgiveness.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 219 
 
 them, I say, yet rather by their virtuous lives and good 
 works than by words and syllogisms : and the persons 
 they thus proselyted were downright honest, well mean- 
 ing people, such as understood plain sense better than 
 any artificial pomp of reasoning : whereas if our divines 
 should now set about the gaining of converts from pa- 
 ganism by their mataphysical subtleties, they would 
 find that most of the persons they applied themselves to 
 were either so ignorant as not at all to apprehend them, 
 or so impudent as to scoff and deride them ; or finally, 
 so well skilled at the same weapons, that they would be 
 able to keep their pass, and fence off all assaults of con- 
 viction : and in this last way the victory would be alto- 
 gether as hopeless, as if two persons were combating, of 
 so equal strength and dexterity, that it were impossible 
 that either one should overpower the other. 
 
 If my judgment may be taken, I would advise Chris- 
 tians, in their next expedition to a holy war, instead of 
 those many unsuccessful legions, which they have hith- 
 erto sent to encounter the Turks and Saracens, that they 
 would furnish out their clamorous Scotists, their obsti- 
 nate Occamists, their invincible Albertists, and all their 
 forces of tough, crabbed and profound disputants : the 
 engagement, I fancy, would be mighty pleasant, and the 
 victory we may imagine unquestionably on our side. 
 For which of the enemies would not veil their turbans 
 at so solemn an appearance ? Which of the fiercest 
 Janizaries would not throw away his scimitar, and all 
 the half-moons be eclipsed by the interposition of so 
 glorious an army ? 
 
 I suppose you mistrust I speak all this by way of jeer
 
 22O THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 and irony ; and well I may, since among divines them- 
 selves there are some so ingenuous as to despise these 
 captious and frivolous impertinences. They look upon it 
 as a kind of profane sacrilege, and a little less than blas- 
 phemous impiety, to determine of such niceties in relig- 
 ion, as ought rather to be the subject of an humble and 
 uncontradidling faith, than of a scrupulous and inquisi- 
 tive reason. They abhor defiling the mysteries of Chris- 
 tianity with an intermixture of heathenish philosophy, 
 and judge it very improper to reduce divinity to an 
 obscure speculative science, whose end is such a happi- 
 ness as can be gained only by the means of practice. 
 
 But, alas, those notional divines, however condemned 
 by the soberer judgment of others, are yet mightily 
 pleased with themselves, and are so laboriously intent 
 upon prosecuting their crabbed studies, that they cannot 
 afford so much time as to read a single chapter in any 
 one book of the whole bible. 
 
 And while they thus trifle away their misspent hours 
 in trash and babble, they think they support the church 
 with the props and pillars of propositions and syllogisms, 
 no less effectually than Atlas is feigned by the poets 
 to sustain on his shoulders the burden of a tottering 
 world. Their privileges, too, and authority are very 
 considerable. They can deal with any text of scrip- 
 ture as with a nose of wax, knead it into what shape 
 best suits their interest ; and whatever conclusions 
 they have dogmatically resolved upon, they would 
 have them as irrepealably ratified as Solon's laws, 
 and in as absolute force as the very decrees of the papal 
 chair. If any be so bold as to remonstrate against their
 
 <SS". 
 
 Upholding the World.
 
 Jove and Vulcan.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 225 
 
 decisions, they will bring him on his knees to a recan- 
 tation of his impudence. 
 
 They shall pronounce as irrevocably as an oracle : this 
 proposition is scandalous, that irreverant ; this has a 
 smack of heresy, and that is bald and improper ; so that 
 it is not the being baptized into the church, the believ- 
 ing of the scriptures, the giving credit to St. Peter, St. 
 Paul, St. Hierom, St. Augustin, nay, or to St. Thomas 
 Aquinas himself, that shall make a man a Christian, 
 except he have the joint suffrage of these novices in 
 learning, who have blessed the world no doubt with a 
 great many discoveries, which had never come to light 
 had they not struck the fire of subtlety out of the flint of 
 obscurity. These fooleries must surely be a happy em- 
 ployment. 
 
 Farther, they make as many partitions and divisions 
 in hell and purgatory, and describe as many different 
 sorts and degrees of punishment, as if they were very 
 well acquainted with the soil and situation of those in- 
 fernal regions. 
 
 And to prepare a seat for the blessed above, they in- 
 vent new orbs, and a stately empyrean heaven, so wide 
 and spacious as if they had purposely contrived it, that 
 the glorified saints might have room enough to walk, 
 to feast, or to take any recreation. 
 
 With these and a thousand more such like toys, their 
 heads are more stuffed and swelled than Jove, when he 
 went big of Pallas in his brain, and was forced to use 
 the midwifery of Vulcan's axe to ease him of his teem- 
 ing burden. 
 
 Do not wonder, therefore, that at public disputations
 
 226 THE PRAISE OF 
 
 they bind their heads with so many caps one over an- 
 other; for this is to prevent the loss of their brains, 
 which would otherwise break out from their uneasy 
 confinement. 
 
 It affords likewise a pleasant scene of laughter, to lis- 
 ten to these divines in their hotly managed disputations, 
 to see how proud they are of talking such hard gibber- 
 ish, and stammering out such blundering distinctions, 
 as the auditors perhaps may sometimes gape at, but sel- 
 dom comprehend. 
 
 And they take such a liberty in their speaking of 
 I^atin, that they scorn to stick to the exactness of syntax 
 or concord ; pretending it is below the majesty of a divine 
 to talk like a pedagogue, and be tied to the slavish ob- 
 servance of the rules of grammar. 
 
 Finally, they take a vast pride, among other citations, 
 to allege the authority of their respected master, whose 
 word they bear as profound a respecl to as the Jews did 
 to their ineffable tetragrammaton, and therefore they 
 will be sure never to write it otherwise than in great 
 letters, MAGISTER NOSTER ; and if any happen 
 to invert the order of the words, and say, noster magister 
 instead of magister noster, they will presently exclaim 
 against him as a pestilent heretic and underminer of the 
 catholic faith. 
 
 The next to these are another sort of brainless fools, 
 who style themselves monks, or members of religious 
 orders, though they assume both titles very unjustly : 
 for as to the last, they have very little religion in them ; 
 and as to the former, the etymology of the word monk 
 implies a solitariness, or being alone ; whereas they are
 
 John, the Baptist.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. . 229 
 
 so thick abroad that we cannot pass any street or alley { 
 without meeting them : and I cannot imagine which 
 degree of men would be more hopelessly wretched 
 if I did not stand their friend, and buoy them up in that 
 lake of misery, which by the engagements of a religious 
 vow they have voluntarily immerged themselves into. 
 
 But when these sort of men are so unwelcome to oth- 
 ers, as that the very sight of them is thought ominous, I 
 yet make them highly in love with themselves, and fond 
 admirers of their own happiness. The first step where- 
 unto they esteem a profound ignorance, thinking carnal 
 knowledge a great enemy to their spiritual welfare, and 
 seem confident of becoming greater proficients in divine 
 mysteries, the less they are influenced with any human, 
 learning. 
 
 They imagine that they bear a sweet consort with the 
 heavenly choir, when they tone out their daily tally of 
 psalms, which they rehearse only by rote, without per- 
 mitting their understanding or affections to go along 
 with their voice. 
 
 Among these, some make a good and profitable trade 
 by beggary, going about from house to house, not like 
 the apostles, to break, but to beg, their bread; nay, they 
 thrust themselves into all public-houses, come aboard 
 the passage-boats, get into the traveling wagons, and 
 omit no opportunity of time or place for craving people's 
 charity, and doing a great deal of injury to common high- 
 way beggars by interfering with their traffic of alms. 
 
 And when they are thus voluntarily poor, destitute, 
 not provided with two coats, nor with any money in 
 their purse, they have the impudence to pretend that
 
 23 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 they imitate the first disciples, whom their master ex- 
 pressly sent out in such an equipage. 
 
 It is amusing to observe how they regulate all their 
 actions, as it were by weight and measure, to so exact a 
 proportion, as if the whole loss of their religion depended 
 upon the omission of the least punctilio. 
 
 Thus, they must be very critical in the precise num- 
 ber of knots requisite for tying on their sandals ; what 
 distinct colors their respective habits should be, and of 
 what material made ; how broad and long their girdles ; 
 how big, and in what fashion, their hoods ; whether 
 their bald crowns be to a hair's-breadth of the right cut ; 
 how many hours they must sleep, at what minute rise to 
 prayers, etc. 
 
 And these several customs are altered according to the 
 humors of different persons and places. 
 
 While they are sworn to the superstitious observance 
 of these trifles, they not only despise all others, but are 
 even inclined to fall out among themselves ; for though 
 they make profession of an apostolical charity, yet they 
 will pick a quarrel, and be implacably passionate for such 
 slight provocations as for putting on a coat the wrong 
 way, for wearing clothes a little too dark in color, or any 
 such nicety not worth speaking of. 
 
 Some are so obstinately superstitious that they will 
 wear their upper garment of some coarse dog's hair stuff, 
 and that next theii skin as soft as silk : but others on 
 the contrary, will have linen frocks outermost, and their 
 shirts of wool, or hair. Some again will not touch a 
 piece of money, though they make no scruple of the 
 sin of drunkenness, and the lust of the flesh.
 
 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 33! 
 
 All their several orders are mindful of nothing more 
 than of their being distinguished from each other by 
 their different costumes and habits. They seem indeed 
 not so careful of becoming like Christ, and of being 
 known to be his disciples, as the being unlike to one an- 
 other, and distinguishable for followers of their several 
 founders. 
 
 A great part of their religion consists in their title. 
 Some will be called Cordeliers, and these subdivided into 
 Capuchines, Minors, Minims, and Mendicants ; some 
 again are styled Benedictines, others of the order of St. 
 Bernard, others of that of St. Bridget ; some are Augus- 
 tin Monks, some Willielmites, and others Jacobists, as if 
 the common name of Christian were too mean and 
 vulgar. 
 
 Most of them place their greatest stress for salvation 
 on a strict conformity to their foppish ceremonies, and a 
 belief of their legendary traditions ; wherein they fancy 
 to have acquitted themselves with so much of superero- 
 gation, that one heaven can never be a condign reward 
 for their meritorious life ; little thinking that the Judge 
 of all the earth at the last day shall put them off, with a 
 who hath required these things at your hands ; and call 
 them to account only for the stewardship of his legacy, 
 which was the precept of love and charity. 
 
 It will be interesting to hear their pleas before the 
 great tribunal : one will brag how he mortified his car- 
 nal appetite by feeding only upon fish : another will urge 
 that he spent most of his time on earth in the divine ex- 
 ercise of singing psalms : a third will tell how many 
 days he fasted, and what severe penance he imposed on
 
 232 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 himself for the bringing his body into subjection : an- 
 other shall produce in his own behalf as many ceremo- 
 nies as would load a fleet of merchantmen : a fifth shall 
 plead that in threescore years he never so much as 
 touched a piece of money, except he fingered it through 
 a thick pair of gloves : a sixth, to testify his former hu 
 mility, shall bring 'along with him his sacred hood, so 
 old and nasty, that any seaman had rather stand bare- 
 headed on the deck, than put it on to defend his ears in 
 the sharpest storms : the next that comes to answer for 
 himself shall plead, that for fifty years together, he had 
 lived like a sponge upon the same place, and was content 
 never to change his homely habitation : another shall 
 whisper softly, and tell the judge he has lost his voice 
 by a continual singing of holy hymns and anthems : the 
 next shall confess how he fell into a lethargy by a strict, 
 reserved, and sedentary life ; and the last shall intimate 
 that he has forgotten to speak, by having always kept 
 silence, in obedience to the injunction of taking heed 
 lest he should have offended with his tongue. 
 
 But amidst all their fine excuses our Savior shall in- 
 terrupt them with this answer, " Woe unto you, scribes 
 and pharisees, hypocrites, verily I know you not ; I left 
 you but one precept, of loving one another, which I do 
 not hear any one plead he has faithfully discharged ; I 
 told you plainly in my gospel, without any parable, that 
 my father's kingdom was prepared not for such as should 
 lay claim to it by austerities, prayers, or fastings, but for 
 those who should render themselves worthy of it by the 
 exercise of faith, and the offices of charity : I cannot 
 own such as depend on their own merits without a reli-
 
 The Monk with the Sacred Hood.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 235 
 
 r.nce on my mercy : as many of you therefore as trust to 
 the broken reeds of your own deserts may even go and 
 search out a new heaven, for you shall never enter into 
 that, which from the foundations of the world was pre- 
 pared only for such as are true of heart." 
 
 When these monks and friars shall meet with such a 
 shameful repulse, and see that ploughmen and mechan- 
 ics are admitted into that kingdom, from which they 
 themselves are shut out, how sneakingly will they look, 
 and how pitifully slink away ? 
 
 Yet till this last trial they had more comfort of a future 
 happiness, because more hopes of it, than any other class 
 of men. And these persons are not only great in their own 
 eyes, but highly esteemed and respected by others, es- 
 pecially those of the order of mendicants, whom none 
 dare to offer any affront to, because as confessors they are 
 intrusted with all the secrets of particular intrigues, 
 which they are bound by oath not to discover ; yet many 
 times, when they are almost drunk, they cannot keep 
 their tongue so far within their head, as not to be bab- 
 bling out some hints, and showing themselves so full, 
 that they are in pain to be delivered. 
 
 If any person give them the least provocation they 
 will surely be revenged on him, and in their next public 
 harangue will give him such shrewd hints and reflec- 
 tions, that the whole congregation must needs take no- 
 tice at whom they are leveled ; nor will they ever desist 
 from this way of declaiming, till their mouth be stopped 
 with a bribe to hold their tongue. 
 
 All their preaching is mere stage-playing, and their 
 delivery the very transports of ridicule and drollery.
 
 236 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 Good Lord! how inimical are their gestures? What 
 heights and falls in their voices ? What toning, what 
 bawling, what singing, what squeaking, what grimaces; 
 making of mouths, apes' faces, and distorting of their 
 countenances ; and this art of oratory, as a choice mys- 
 tery, they convey down by tradition to succeeding ages. 
 
 The manner of it, I may adventure, thus farther to 
 enlarge upon. 
 
 First, in a kind of mockery, they implore the Divine 
 assistance, which they borrowed from the solemn custom 
 of the poets : then their text, (suppose it be of Charity), 
 they shall take their exordium as far off as from a de- 
 scription of the river Nile in Egypt; or if they are to 
 discourse of the Mystery of the Cross, they shall begin 
 with a story of Bell and the Dragon ; or perchance, if 
 their subjedl be of Fasting, for an entrance to their 
 sermon they shall pass through the Twelve Signs of 
 the Zodiac ; or lastly, if they are to preach of Faith, 
 they shall address themselves in a long mathematical 
 account of the Quadrature of the Circle. 
 
 I myself once heard a great fool (a great scholar I 
 would have said) undertaking in a laborious discourse to 
 explain the mystery of the Holy Trinity ; in the un- 
 folding whereof, that he might show his wit and reading, 
 and also satisfy itching ears, he proceeded in a new 
 method, as by insisting on the letters, syllables, and 
 proposition, on the concord of noun and verb, and that 
 of noun substantive, and noun adjective. 
 
 The auditors all wondered, and some mumbled to 
 themselves that hemistitch of Horace : 
 
 all this needless trash?
 
 Bell and the Dragon.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 239 
 
 But at last he brought it thus far, that he could dem- 
 onstrate the whole Trinity to be represented by these 
 first rudiments of grammar, as clearly and plainly as it 
 was possible for a mathematician to draw a triangle in 
 the sand : and for the making of this grand discovery, 
 this subtle divine had plodded so hard for eight months 
 together, that he studied himself as blind as a beetle, 
 the intenseness of the eye of his understanding overshad- 
 owing and extinguishing that of his body ; and yet he 
 did not at all repent him of his blindness, but thinks the 
 loss of his sight an easy purchase for the gain of glory 
 and credit. 
 
 I heard at another time a grave divine, of fourscore 
 years of age at least, so sour and hard-favored, that one 
 would be apt to mistrust that he was Scotus Redivivus ; 
 he taking upon him to treat of that mysterious name, 
 JESUS, did very subtly pretend that in the very letters 
 was contained, whatever could be said of it : for first, its 
 being declined with only three cases, did expressly point 
 out the trinity of persons, then that the nominative 
 ended in S, the accusative in M, and the ablative in U, 
 did imply some unspeakable mystery, z/z>., that in words 
 of those initial letters Christ was the summus, or begin- 
 ning, the mediuS) or middle, and the ultimus, or end of 
 all things. 
 
 There was yet a more abstruse riddle to be explained, 
 which was by dividing the word JESUS into two parts, 
 and separating the S in the middle from the two extreme 
 syllables, making a kind of pentameter, the word con- 
 sisting of five letters : and this intermedial S being in 
 the Hebrew alphabet called sin, which in the English
 
 240 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 language signifies what the Latins term peccatum, was 
 urged to imply that the holy Jesus should purify us from 
 all sin and wickedness. 
 
 Thus did the pulpiteer cant, while all the congregation, 
 especially the brotherhood of divines, were so surprised 
 at his odd way of preaching, that wonder served them, 
 as grief did Niobe, and almost turned them into stones. 
 I among the rest (as Horace describes Priapus viewing 
 the enchantments of the two sorceresses, Canidia and 
 Sagane) could no longer endure, but let fly a report of 
 the effect it had upon me. 
 
 These impertinent introductions are not without 
 reason condemned ; for of old, whenever Demosthenes 
 among the Greeks, or Tully among the Latins, began 
 their orations with so great a digression from the matter 
 in hand, it was always looked upon as improper and in- 
 elegant, and indeed, were such a long-fetched exordium 
 any token of a good invention, shepherds and ploughmen 
 might lay claim to the title of men of greatest parts, 
 since upon any argument it is easiest for them to talk 
 about what is least to the purpose. 
 
 These preachers think their preamble (as we may well 
 term it,) to be the most fashionable, when it is farthest 
 from the subject they propose to treat of, while each 
 auditor sits and wonders what they drive at, and many 
 times mutters out the complaint of Virgil : 
 " Whither doth all this jargon tend? " 
 
 In the third place, when they come to the division of 
 their text, they shall give only a very short interpretation 
 of the words, when a fuller explication of their sense 
 ought to have been their only province.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOU.Y. 241 
 
 Fourthly, after they are a little entered, they shall 
 start some theological queries, far enough off from the 
 matter in hand, and bandy it about pro and con till they 
 lose it in the heat of the scuffle. And here they shall 
 cite their doctors invincible, subtle, seraphic, cherubic, 
 holy, irrefragable, and such like great names to confirm 
 their several assertions. Then out they bring their syl- 
 logisms, their majors, their minors, conclusions, corolla- 
 ries, suppositions, and distinctions, that will sooner 
 terrify the congregation into an amazement, than per- 
 suade them into a conviction. 
 
 Now comes the fifth act, in which they must exert 
 their utmost skill to come off with applause. Here, 
 therefore, they fall a telling some sad lamentable story 
 out of their legend, or some other fabulous history, and 
 this they descant upon allegorically, tropologically, and 
 analogically ; and so they draw to a conclusion of their 
 discourse, which is a more brain sick chimera than ever 
 Horace could describe in his De Arte Poetica, when he 
 
 began : 
 
 Humano Capiti, &c. 
 
 Their praying is altogether as ridiculous as their 
 preaching ; for imagining that in their addresses to 
 heaven they should set out in a low and tremulous voice, 
 as a token of dread and reverence, they begin therefore 
 with such a soft whispering as if they were afraid any 
 one should overhear what they said ; but when they are 
 gone a little way, they clear up their pipes by degrees, 
 and at last bawl out so loud as if, with Baal's priests, 
 they were resolved to awake a sleeping god ; and then 
 again, being told by rhetoricians that heights and falls,
 
 242 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 and a different cadency in pronunciation, is a great ad- 
 vantage to the setting off any thing that is spoken, they 
 will sometimes as it were mutter their words inwardly, 
 and then of a sudden hollo them out, and be sure at last 
 to finish in such a flat, faltering tone as if their spirits 
 were spent, and they had run themselves out of breath. 
 Lastly, they have read that most systems of rhetoric 
 treat of the art of exciting laughter ; therefore, for the 
 effecting of this, they will sprinkle some jests and puns 
 that must pass for ingenuity, though they are only the 
 froth and folly of affectedness. Sometimes they will 
 nibble at the wit of being satirical, though their utmost 
 spleen is so toothless, that they suck rather than bite, 
 tickle rather than scratch or wound: nor do they ever flat- 
 ter more than at such times as they pretend to speak 
 with greatest freedom. 
 
 Finally, all their actions are so buffoonish and inimical, 
 that any would judge they had learned all their tricks of 
 mountebanks and stage players, who in action it is true 
 may perhaps outdo them, but in oratory there is so little 
 odds between both, that it is hard to determine which 
 seems of longest standing in the schools of eloquence. 
 Yet these preachers, however ridiculous, meet with such 
 hearers, who admire them as much as the people of 
 Athens did Demosthenes, or the citizens of Rome could 
 do Cicero : among which admirers are chiefly shopkeep- 
 ers, and women, whose approbation and good opinion 
 they only court ; because the first, if they are humored, 
 give them some snacks out of unjust gain, and the last 
 come and confess to them with great regularity, and 
 receive in return advice, comfort and consolation.
 
 King David.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 245 
 
 Thus much I suppose may suffice to make you sensible 
 how much these cell-hermits and recluses are indebted 
 to my bounty ; who when they tyrannize over the con- 
 sciences of the deluded laity with fopperies, juggles, and 
 impostures, yet think themselves as eminently pious as 
 St. Paul, St. Anthony, or any other of the saints ; but 
 these stage-divines, not less ungrateful disowners of 
 their obligations to folly, than they are impudent pre- 
 tenders to the profession of piety, I willingly take my 
 leave of, and pass now to kings, princes, and courtiers, 
 who paying me a devout acknowledgment, may justly 
 challenge back the respect of being mentioned and taken 
 notice of by me. 
 
 And first, had they wisdom enough to make a true 
 judgment of things, they would find their own condition 
 to be more despicable and slavish than that of their most 
 menial subjects. For certainly none can esteem perjury 
 or parricide a cheap purchase for a crown, if he doth but 
 seriously reflect upon that weight of cares a princely dia- 
 dem is loaded with. 
 
 He that sits at the helm of government acts in a pub- 
 lic capacity, and so must sacrifice all private interest to 
 the attainment of the common good ; he must himself 
 be conformable to those laws his prerogative exacts, or 
 else he can expect no obedience paid them from others ; 
 he must have a strict eye over all his inferior magistrates 
 and officers, or otherwise it is not to be doubted but that 
 they will carelessly discharge their respective duties. 
 
 Hvery king, within his own territories, is placed for a 
 shining example as it were in the firmament of his wide 
 spread dominions, to prove either a glorious star of be-
 
 246 THE PRAISE OF POLLY. 
 
 nign influence, if his behavior be remarkably just and 
 innocent, or else to impend as a threatening comet, if 
 his blazing power be pestilent and hurtful. 
 
 Subjects move in a darker sphere, and so their wan- 
 derings and failings are less discernible ; whereas princes, 
 being fixed in a more exalted orb, and encompassed with 
 a brighter dazzling lustre, their spots are more apparently 
 visible, and their eclipses, or other defects, apparent to 
 all that are inferior to them. 
 
 Kings are baited with so many temptations and op- 
 portunities to vice and immorality, such as are high 
 feeding, liberty, flattery, luxury, and the like, that they 
 must stand perpetually on their guard, to fence off those 
 assaults that are always ready to be made upon them. 
 
 In fine, abating from treachery, hatred, dangers, fear, 
 and a thousand other mischiefs impending on crowned 
 heads, however uncontrollable they are this side the 
 grave, yet after their reign here they must appear before 
 a supremer judge, and there be called to an exact ac- 
 count for the discharge of that great stewardship which 
 was committed to their trust. 
 
 If princes did but seriously consider (and consider they 
 would if they were but wise), these many hardships of a 
 royal life, they would be so perplexed in the result of 
 their thoughts thereupon, as scarce to eat or sleep in 
 quiet. But now by my assistance they leave all these 
 cares to the gods, and mind only their own ease and 
 pleasure, and therefore will admit none to their attend- 
 ance but those who will divert them with sport and 
 mirth, lest they should otherwise be seized and damped 
 with the surprisal of sober thoughts. They think they
 
 The Sovereign.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 349 
 
 have sufficiently acquitted themselves in the duty of 
 governing, if they do but ride constantly a hunting, 
 breed up good race-horses, sell places and offices to those 
 of the courtiers that will give most for them, and find 
 out new ways for invading of their people's property, 
 and securing a larger revenue to their own exchequer ; 
 for the procurement whereof they will always have some 
 pretended claim and title ; that though it be manifest 
 extortion, yet it may bear the show of law and justice : 
 and then they daub over their oppression with a submis- 
 sive, flattering carriage, that they may so far insinuate 
 into the affections of the vulgar, that they may not 
 tumult nor rebel, but patiently crouch to burdens and 
 exactions. 
 
 L/et us feign now a person ignorant of the laws and 
 constitutions of that realm he lives in, an enemy to the 
 public good, studious only for his own private interest, 
 addicted wholly to pleasures and delights, a hater of 
 learning, a professed enemy to liberty and truth, careless 
 and unmindful of the common concerns, taking all the 
 measures of justice and honesty from the false beam of 
 self-interest and advantage, after this hang about his 
 neck a gold chain, for an intimation that he ought to 
 have all virtues linked together ; then set a crown of 
 gold and jewels on his head, for a token that he ought 
 to overtop and outshine others in all commendable qual- 
 ifications ; next, put into his hand a royal sceptre for a 
 symbol of justice and integrity ; lastly, clothe him with 
 purple, for an hieroglyphic of a tender love and affection 
 to the commonwealth. 
 
 If a prince should look upon this portraiture, and draw
 
 250 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 a comparison between that and himself, certainly he 
 would be ashamed of his ensigns of majesty, and be 
 afraid of being laughed out of them. 
 
 Next to kings themselves may come their courtiers, 
 who, though they are for the most part a base, servile, 
 cringing, low-spirited sort of flatterers, yet they look 
 big, swell great, and have high thoughts of their honor 
 and grandeur. 
 
 Their confidence appears upon all occasions ; yet in 
 this one thing they are very modest, in that they are 
 content to adorn their bodies with gold, jewels, purple, 
 and other glorious ensigns of virtue and wisdom, but 
 leave their minds empty and unfraught ; and taking 
 the resemblance of goodness to themselves, turn over the 
 truth and reality of it to others. 
 
 They think themselves mighty happy in that they can 
 call the king master, and be allowed the familiarity of 
 talking with him ; that they can volubly rehearse his 
 several titles of august highness, supereminent excel- 
 lence, and most serene majesty ; that they can boldly 
 usher in any discourse, and that they have the complete 
 knack of insinuation and flattery : for these are the arts 
 that make them truly genteel and noble. 
 
 If you make a stricter enquiry after their other endow- 
 ments, you shall find them mere sots and dolts. They 
 will sleep generally till noon, and then their mercenary 
 chaplains shall come to their bed-side, and entertain 
 them perhaps with a short morning prayer. 
 
 As soon as they are dressed they must go to breakfast, 
 and when that is done, immediately to dinner. When 
 the cloth is taken away, then to cards, dice, tables, or
 
 Searching the Scriptures.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 253 
 
 some such like diversion. After this they must have 
 one or two afternoon banquets, and so in the evening to 
 supper. When they have supped then begins the game 
 of drinking ; the bottles are marshaled, the glasses ranked, 
 and round go the healths and bumpers till they are car- 
 ried to bed. And this is the constant method of passing 
 away their hours, days, months, years, and ages. 
 
 I have many times taken great satisfaction, standing 
 in the court, and seeing how the tawdry butterflies vie 
 one with another. The ladies shall measure the height 
 of their humors by the length of their trails, which must 
 be borne up by a page behind. The nobles jostle one 
 another to get nearest to the king's elbow, and wear gold 
 chains of that weight and size, as require no less strength 
 to carry than they do wealth to purchase. 
 
 And now for some reflections upon popes, cardinals, 
 and bishops, who in pomp and splendor have almost 
 equaled if not outdone secular princes. 
 
 Now, if any one considers that their upper crochet of 
 white linen is to signify their unspotted purity and in- 
 nocence ; that their forked mitres, with both divisions 
 tied together by the same knot, are to denote the joint 
 knowledge of the Old and New Testament ; that their 
 always wearing gloves, represents their keeping their 
 hands clean and undefiled from lucre and covetousness ; 
 that the pastoral staff implies the care of a flock com- 
 mitted to their charge ; that the cross carried before 
 them expresses their victory over all carnal affec- 
 tions ; he (I say) that considers this, and much more of 
 the like nature, must needs conclude that they are en- 
 trusted with a very weighty and difficult office. But,
 
 254 THE PRAISE OF FOI^Y. 
 
 alas, they think it sufficient if they can but feed them- 
 selves; and as to their flock, either commend them to the 
 care of Christ himself, or commit them to the guidance 
 of some inferior vicars and curates ; not so much as 
 remembering what their name of bishop imports, to wit, 
 xabor, pains, and diligence, but by base simoniacal con- 
 tracts, they are in a profane sense, Episcopi, i.e., over- 
 seers of their own gain and income. 
 
 So cardinals, in like manner, if they did but consider 
 that the church supposes them to succeed in the room of 
 the apostles ; that therefore they must behave themselves 
 as their predecessors, and so not be lords, but dispensers 
 of spiritual gifts, of the disposal whereof they must one 
 day render a strict account. Or if they would but reflect 
 a little on their habit, and thus reason with themselves, 
 What means this white upper garment but only an 
 unspotted innocence ? What signifies my inner purple 
 but only an ardent love and zeal to God ? What imports 
 my outermost pall, so wide and long that it covers the 
 whole mule when I ride, nay, should be big enough to 
 cover a camel, but only a diffusive charity, that should 
 spread itself for a succor and protection to all, by teach- 
 ing, exhorting, comforting, reproving, admonishing, 
 composing of differences, courageously withstanding 
 wicked princes, and sacrificing for the safety of our flock 
 our life and blood, as well as our wealth and riches ; 
 though indeed riches ought not to be at all possessed by 
 such as boast themselves successors to the apostles, who 
 were poor, needy, and destitute. I say, if they did but 
 lay these considerations to heart they would never be so 
 ambitious of being promoted to this honor, they would
 
 ^~v? 
 The Bishop.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 257 
 
 willingly resign it when conferred upon them, or at least 
 would be as industrious, watchful and laborious as the 
 primitive apostles were. 
 
 Now as to the popes of Rome, who pretend themselves 
 Christ's vicars, if they would but imitate his exemplary 
 life, in the being employed in an unintermitted course 
 of preaching ; in the being attended with poverty, naked- 
 ness, hunger, and a contempt of this world ; if they did 
 but consider the import of the word Pope, which signifies 
 a father ; or if they did but practice their surname of 
 most holy, what order or degrees of men would be in a 
 worse condition ? 
 
 There would be then no such vigorous making of par- 
 ties and buying of votes in the Conclave, upon a vacancy 
 of that See : and those who by bribery, or other indirect 
 courses, should get themselves elected, would never se- 
 cure their sitting firm in the chair by pistol, poison, 
 force, and violence. 
 
 How much of their pleasure would be abated if they 
 were but endowed with one dram of wisdom ? Wisdom, 
 did I say ? Nay, with one grain of that salt which our 
 Savior bade them not to lose the savor of. 
 
 All their riches, all their honors, their jurisdictions, 
 their Peter's patrimony, their offices, their dispensations, 
 their licenses, their indulgences, their long train of 
 attendants (see in how short a compass I have abbrevia- 
 ted all their marketing of religion); in a word, all their 
 perquisites would be forfeited and lost ; and in their 
 room would succeed watchings, fastings, tears, prayers, 
 sermons, hard studies, repenting sighs, and a thousand 
 such like severe penalties : nay, what's yet more deplor-
 
 258 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 able, it would then follow, that all their clerks, amanu- 
 enses, notaries, advocates, proctors, secretaries, the offices 
 of grooms, ostlers, serving-men, pimps, (and somewhat 
 else, which for modesty's sake I shall not mention) ; in 
 short, all these troops of attendants, which depend on 
 his holiness, would all lose their several employments. 
 This indeed would be hard, but what yet remains would 
 be more dreadful : the very Head of the Church, the 
 spiritual prince, would then be brought from all his 
 splendor to the poor equipage of a scrip and staff. 
 
 But all this is upon the supposition only that they 
 understood the circumstances they are placed in ; whereas 
 now, by a wholesome neglect of thinking, they live as 
 well as heart can wish. 
 
 Whatever of toil and drudgery belongs to their office, 
 that they assign over to St. Peter or St. Paul, who have 
 time enough to mind it ; but if there be any thing of 
 pleasure and grandeur, that they assume to themselves, 
 as being u hereunto called : " so that by my influence no 
 sort of people live more to their own ease and content. 
 
 They think to satisfy that Master they pretend to serve, 
 our L/ord and Savior, with their great state and mag- 
 nificence, with the ceremonies of installments, with the 
 titles of reverence and holiness, and with exercising 
 their episcopal function only in blessing and cursing. 
 
 The working of miracles is old and out-dated ; to teach 
 the people is too laborious ; to interpret scripture is to 
 invade the prerogative of the schoolmen ; to pray is too 
 idle ; to shed tears is cowardly and unmanly ; to fast is 
 too mean and sordid ; to be easy and familiar is beneath 
 the grandeur of him, who, without being sued to and
 
 TTie Cardinal.
 
 Fingering Money through a Thick Pair of Gloves.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 263 
 
 intreated, will scarce give princes the honor of kissing 
 his toe ; finally, to die for religion is too self-denying; 
 and to be crucified as their Lord of Life, is base and 
 ignominious. 
 
 Their only weapons ought to be those of the Spirit ; 
 and of these indeed they are mighty liberal, as of their 
 interdicts, their suspensions, their denunciations, their 
 aggravations, their greater and lesser excommunications, 
 and their roaring bulls, that fright whomsoever they are 
 thundered against ; and these most holy fathers never 
 issue them out more frequently than against those, who, 
 at the instigation of the devil, and not having the fear 
 of God before their eyes, do feloniously and maliciously 
 attempt to lessen and impair St. Peter's patrimony : and 
 though that apostle tells our Savior in the gospel, in the 
 name of all the other disciples, we have left all and fol- 
 lowed you, yet they challenge as his inheritance, fields, 
 towns, treasures, and large dominions ; for the defending 
 whereof, inflamed with a holy zeal, they fight with fire 
 and sword, to the great loss and effusion of Christian 
 blood, thinking they are apostolical maintainers of 
 Christ's spouse, the church, when they have murdered 
 all such as they call her enemies ; though indeed the 
 church has no enemies more bloody and tyrannical than 
 such impious popes, who give dispensations for the not 
 preaching of Christ ; evacuate the main effect and design 
 of our redemption by their pecuniary bribes and sales ; 
 adulterate the gospel by their forced interpretations, and 
 undermining traditions ; and lastly, by their lusts and 
 wickedness grieve the Holy Spirit, and make their 
 Savior's wounds to bleed anew.
 
 264 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 Farther, when the Christian church has been all along 
 first planted, then confirmed, and since established by the 
 blood of her martyrs, as if Christ, her head, would be 
 wanting in the same methods still of protecting her, 
 they invert the order, and propagate their religion now 
 by arms and violence, which was wont formerly to be 
 done only with patience and suffering. 
 
 And though war be so brutish, as that it becomes 
 beasts rather than men ; so extravagant, that the poets 
 feigned it an effect of the furies ; so licentious, that it 
 stops the course of all justice and honesty, so desperate, 
 that it is best waged by ruffians and banditti, and so 
 unchristian, that it is contrary to the express commands 
 of the gospel ; yet magure all this, peace is too quiet, 
 too inactive, and they must be engaged in the boister- 
 ousness of war. 
 
 Among which latter undertaking you shall have some 
 popes so old that they can scarce creep, and yet they will 
 put on a young, brisk resolution, will resolve to stick 
 at no pains, to spare no cost, nor to waive any inconven- 
 ience, so they may involve laws, religion, peace, and all 
 other concerns, whether sacred or civil, in unappeasable 
 tumults and distractions. 
 
 And yet some of their learned fawning courtiers will 
 interpret this notorious madness for zeal, and piety, and 
 fortitude, having found out the way how a man may 
 draw his sword, and sheathe it in his brother's bowels, 
 and yet not offend against the commandment whereby 
 we are taught to love our neighbors as ourselves. 
 
 It is yet uncertain whether these Romish fathers have 
 taken example from, or given precedent to, such other
 
 The Threatening* of the Church.
 
 Religion turned over to the Care of the Laity.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 369 
 
 German bishops who, omitting their ecclesiastical habit, 
 and other ceremonies, appear openly armed cap-a-pie, 
 like so many champions and warriors, thinking no 
 doubt that they come short of the duty of their function, 
 if they die in any other place than the open field, 
 fighting the battles of the L,ord. 
 
 The inferior clergy, deeming it unmannerly not to 
 conform to their patrons and diocesans, devoutly tug and 
 fight for their tithes with syllogisms, and arguments, as 
 fiercely as with swords, sticks, stones, or anything that 
 came next to hand. When they read the rabbies, fa- 
 thers, or other ancient writings, how quick-sighted are 
 they in spying out any sentences that they may frighten 
 the people with, and make them believe that more than 
 the tenth is due, passing by whatever they meet with 
 in the same authors that reminds them of the duty and 
 difficulty of their own office. 
 
 They never consider that their shaven crown is a 
 token that they should pare off and cut away all the 
 superfluous lusts of this world, and give themselves 
 wholly to divine meditation; but instead of this, our 
 bald-pated priests think they have done enough, if they 
 do but mumble over such a fardel of prayers ; which it 
 is a wonder if God should hear or understand, when 
 they whisper them so softly, and in so unknown a 
 language, which they can scarce hear or understand 
 themselves. This they have in common with other 
 mechanics, that they are most subtle in the craft of 
 getting money, and wonderfully skilled in their respec- 
 tive dues of tithes, offerings, perquisites, &c. 
 
 Thus they are all content to reap the profit, but as to
 
 270 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 the burden, that they toss as a ball from one hand to 
 another, and assign it over to any they can get or hire. 
 For as secular princes have their judges and subordinate 
 ministers to act in their name, and supply their stead ; 
 so ecclesiastical governors have their deputies, vicars, 
 and curates, nay, many times turn over the whole care 
 of religion to the laity. The laity, supposing they have 
 nothing to do with the church (as if their baptismal vow 
 did not initiate them members of it), make it over to the 
 priests ; of the priests again, those that are secular, 
 thinking their title implies them to be a little too pro- 
 fane, assign this task over to the regulars, the regulars 
 to the monks, the monks bandy it from one order to 
 another, till it light upon the mendicants ; they lay it 
 upon the carthusians, which order alone keeps honesty 
 and piety among them, but really keep them so close 
 that nobody could ever yet see them. 
 
 Thus the Popes, thrusting out their sickle into the 
 harvest of profit, leave all the other toil of spiritual hus- 
 bandry to the bishops, the bishops bestow it upon the 
 pastors, the pastors on their curates, and the curates 
 commit it to the mendicants, who return it again to such 
 as well know how to make good advantage of the flock, 
 by securing the benefit of their fleece. 
 
 But I would not be thought purposely to expose the 
 weaknesses of popes and priests, lest I should seem to 
 recede from my title, and make a satire instead of a pan- 
 egyric. Nor let any one imagine that I reflect on good 
 princes, by commending of bad ones. I did this only 
 in brief, to show that there is no one particular person 
 can lead a comfortable life, except he be entered of my
 
 All Concerns Arranged with Money.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 273 
 
 society, and retain me for his friend. Nor indeed can 
 it be otherwise, since fortune, that empress of the world, 
 is so much in league and amity with me, that to wise 
 men, she is always stingy, and sparing of her gifts, but 
 is profusely liberal and lavish to fools. 
 
 Thus Timotheus, the Athenian commander, in all his 
 expeditions, was a mirror of good luck, because he was 
 a little underwitted ; from him was occasioned the 
 Grecian proverb, 'H evdovros nvpros fapei, The net fills, 
 though the fisherman sleeps ; there is still another favor- 
 able proverb yhabz inrarai, The owl flies, an omen of 
 success. But against wise men are pointed these ill- 
 aboding proverbs, 'Ev rerpaSt yevvrjQevTas, Born under a 
 bad planet; equum habet seianum, He cannot ride the 
 fore-horse: aurum tholosanum, Ill-gotten goods will 
 never prosper : and more to the same purpose. But I 
 forbear from any farther proverbializing, lest I should 
 be thought to have rifled my Erasmus's adages. 
 
 To return, therefore, fortune we find still favoring the 
 blunt, and flushing the forward ; strokes and smoothes 
 up fools, crowning all their undertakings with success ; 
 but wisdom makes her followers bashful, sneaking, and 
 timorous, and therefore you see that they are commonly 
 reduced to hard shifts, must grapple with poverty, cold 
 and hunger, must lie recluse, despised, and unregarded, 
 while fools roll in money, are advanced to dignities and 
 offices, and in a word have the whole world at com- 
 mand. 
 
 If any one think it happy to be a favorite at court, 
 and to manage the disposal of places and preferments, 
 alas, this happiness is so far from being attainable by
 
 274 T H E PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 wisdom, that the very suspicion of it would put a stop 
 to all advancement. 
 
 Has any man a mind to raise himself a good estate ? 
 Alas, what dealer in the world would ever get a farthing 
 if he be so wise as to scruple at perjury, blush at a lie, 
 or stick at any fraud and over-reaching. 
 
 Farther, does any one appear a candidate for any ec- 
 clesiastical dignity ? Why, an ass, or a plough-jobber, 
 shall sooner gain it than a wise man. Again, are you 
 in love with any handsome lady? Alas, woman-kind 
 are so addicted to folly, that they will not at all listen 
 to the courtship of a wise suitor. Finally, wherever 
 there is any preparation made for mirth and jollity, all 
 wise men are sure to be excluded from the company, lest 
 they should stint the joy, and damp the frolic. 
 
 In a word, to what side soever we turn ourselves, to 
 popes, princes, judges, magistrates, friends, enemies, 
 rich or poor, all their concerns are managed by money, 
 which because it is undervalued by wise men, therefore, 
 in revenge to be sure, it never comes to them. 
 
 But now, though my praise and commendation might 
 well be endless, yet it is requisite I should put some pe- 
 riod to my speech. I'll therefore draw toward an end, 
 when I have first confirmed what I have said by the 
 authority of several authors. Which by way of farther 
 proof I shall insist upon, partly, that I may not be 
 thought to have said more in my own behalf than what 
 will be justified by others ; and partly, that the lawyers 
 may not check me for citing no precedents nor allega- 
 tions. 
 
 To imitate them therefore I will produce some re-
 
 The Courtier.
 
 The Brutish Man.
 
 THE PRAISE OF POLLY. 279 
 
 ports and authorities, though perhaps like theirs too, 
 they are nothing to the purpose. 
 
 First, then, it is confessed almost to a proverb, that 
 the art of dissembling is a very necessary accomplish- 
 ment ; and therefore it is a common verse among 
 school-boys : 
 
 To feign the fool when fit occasions rise, 
 Argues the being more completely wise. 
 
 It is easy therefore to realize how great a value ought to 
 be put upon real folly, when the very shadow, and bare 
 imitation of it, is so much esteemed. Horace, who in 
 his epistles thus styles himself : 
 
 My sleek- skinn 'd corpse as smooth as if I lie 
 'Mong ttt fatted swine of Epicurus 's sty. 
 
 This poet (I say) gives this advice in one of his odes : 
 
 Short Folly with your counsels mix. 
 
 The epithet of short, it is true, is a little improper. 
 The same poet again has this passage elsewhere : 
 
 Well-timed Folly has a sweet relish. 
 And in another place : 
 
 I'd rather much be censured for a fool, 
 Than feel the lash and smart of wisdom's school. 
 
 Homer praises Telemachus as much as any one of his 
 heroes, and yet he gives him the epithet of N^tos, Silly: 
 and the Grecians generally use the same word to express 
 children, as a token of their innocence. And what is 
 the argument of all Homer's Iliads, but only as Horace 
 observes : 
 
 They kings and subjects dotages contain ?
 
 280 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 How positive also is Tully's commendation that all 
 places are filled with fools? Now every excellence 
 being measured by its extent, the goodness of folly must 
 be of as large compass as those universal places she 
 reaches to. But perhaps Christians may slight the au- 
 thority of a heathen. I could therefore, if I pleased, back 
 and confirm the truth hereof by the citations of several 
 texts of scripture ; though herein it were perhaps my 
 duty to beg leave of the divines, that I might so far in- 
 trench upon their prerogative. 
 
 Supposing a grant, the task being so difficult as to 
 require the invocation of some aid and assistance ; yet 
 because it is unreasonable to put the muses to the ex- 
 pense and trouble of so tedious a journey, especially 
 since the business is out of their sphere, I shall choose 
 rather (while I am acting the divine, and venturing in 
 their polemic difficulties), to wish myself for such time 
 animated with Scotus, his bristling and prickly soul, 
 which I would not care how afterwards it returned to his 
 body, though for refinement it were stopped at a purga- 
 tory by the way. 
 
 I cannot but wish that I might wholly change my 
 character, or at least that some grave divine, in my stead, 
 might rehearse this part of the subject for me ; for truly 
 I suspect that somebody will accuse me of plundering 
 the closets of those reverend men, while I pretend to so 
 much divinity as must appear in my following discourse. 
 Yet, however, it may not seem strange, that after so 
 long and frequent a converse, I have gleaned some 
 scraps from the divines ; since Horace's wooden god by 
 hearing his master read Homer, learned some words
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 28l 
 
 of Greek ; and Lucian's cock, by long attention, could 
 readily understand what any man spoke. 
 
 But now to the purpose, wishing myself success. 
 
 Ecclesiastes doth somewhere confess that there are an 
 infinite number of fools. Now when he speaks of an 
 infinite number, what does he else but imply that herein 
 is included the whole race of mankind, except some very 
 few, which I know not whether any one ever yet had 
 the happiness to see ? 
 
 The prophet Jeremiah speaks yet more plainly in his 
 tenth chapter, where he saith, that Every man is brutish 
 in his knowledge. He just before attributes wisdom to 
 God alone, saying, that the Wise men of the nations are 
 altogether brutish and foolish. And in the preceding 
 chapter he gives this seasonable caution, Let not the 
 wise man glory in his wisdom : the reason is obvious, 
 because no man hath truly any whereof to glory. 
 
 But to return to Ecclesiastes, when he saith, Vanity 
 of vanities, all is vanity, what else can we imagine his 
 meaning to be, than that our whole life is nothing but 
 one continued interlude of Folly ? 
 
 This confirms that assertion of Tully, which is deliv- 
 ered in that noted passage we but just now mentioned, 
 namely, that All places swarm with fools. 
 
 Farther, what does the son of Sirach mean when he 
 saith in Ecclesiasticus, that the Fool is changed as the 
 moon, while the Wise man is fixed as the sun, than only 
 to hint out the folly of all mankind ; and that the name 
 of wise is due to no other but the all-wise God ? for all 
 interpreters by Moon understand mankind, and by Sun 
 that fountain of all light, the Almighty. The same
 
 282 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 sense is implied in that saying of our Savior in the gos- 
 pel, There is none good but one, that is God: for if 
 whoever is not wise must be consequently a fool, and if, 
 according to the Stoics, every man be wise so far only 
 as he is good, the meaning of the text must be, all mor- 
 tals are unavoidably fools ; and there is none wise but 
 one, that is God. 
 
 Solomon also in the fifteenth chapter of his proverbs 
 hath this expression, Folly is joy to him that is destitute 
 of wisdom ; plainly intimating, that the wise man is 
 attended with grief and vexation, while the foolish only 
 roll in delight and pleasure. To the same purpose is 
 that saying of his in the first chapter of Ecclesiastes, In 
 much wisdom is much grief ; and he that increaseth 
 knowledge increaseth sorrow. Again, it is confessed by 
 the same preacher in the seventh chapter of the same 
 book, That the heart of the wise is in the house of mourn- 
 ing, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. This 
 author himself had never attained to such a portion of 
 wisdom, it he had not applied himself to a searching out 
 the frailties and infirmities of human nature ; as, if you 
 believe not me, may appear from his own words in his 
 first chapter, I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to 
 know madness and folly ; where it is worthy to be ob- 
 served that as to the order of words, Folly, for its advan- 
 tage is put in the last place. 
 
 Thus Ecclesiastes wrote, and thus indeed did an 
 ecclesiastical method require ; namely, that what has 
 the precedence in dignity should come hindmost in rank 
 and order, according to the tenor of that evangelical 
 precept, The last shall be first and the first shall be last.
 
 All is Vanity.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 285 
 
 And in Ecclesiasticus likewise (whoever was the au- 
 thor of the holy book which bears that name) in the 
 forty-fourth chapter, the excellency of folly above wis- 
 dom is positively acknowledged ; the very words I shall 
 not cite, till I have the advantage of an answer to a 
 question I am proposing, this way of interrogating being 
 frequently made use of by Plato in his dialogues between 
 Socrates and other disputants. 
 
 I ask you then, what is it we usually hoard and lock 
 up, things of greater esteem and value, or those which 
 are more common, trite, and despicable ? 
 
 Why are you so backward in making an answer ? 
 
 Since you are so shy and reserved, I'll take the Greek 
 proverb for a coherent reply; namely, r?/r tni QvpoaSvSpiav, 
 Foul water is thrown down the sink : which saying, that 
 no person may slight it, may be convenient to advertise 
 that it comes from no meaner an author than that oracle 
 of truth, Aristotle himself. 
 
 And indeed there is no one on this side Bedlam so 
 mad as to throw out upon the dunghill his gold and 
 jewels, but rather all persons have a close repository to 
 preserve them in, and secure them under all the locks, 
 bolts, and bars, that either art can contrive, or fears 
 suggest ; whereas the dirt, pebbles, and oyster-shells, 
 that lie scattered in the streets, ye trample upon, pass by, 
 and take no notice of. 
 
 If then what is more valuable be coffered up, and 
 what less so lies unregarded, it follows, that accordingly 
 Folly should meet with a greater esteem than wisdom, 
 because that wise author advises us to the keeping close 
 and concealing the first, and exposing or laying open the
 
 286 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 other : as take him now in his own words, Better is he 
 that hideth his folly than him that hidelh his wisdom. 
 Beside, the sacred text doth oft ascribe innocence and 
 sincerity to fools, while the wise man is apt to be a 
 haughty scorner of all such as he thinks or believes to 
 have less wit than himself: for so I understand that 
 passage in the tenth chapter of Ecclesiastes, When he 
 that is a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth him, 
 and he saith to every one that he is a fool. Now what 
 greater argument of candor or ingenuity can there be, 
 than to demean himself equal with all others, and not 
 think their deserts any way inferior to his own ? 
 
 Folly is no such scandalous attribute, but that the 
 wise Agur was not ashamed to confess it, in the thirtieth 
 chapter of Proverbs : Surely I am more brutish than 
 any man, and have not the understanding of a man. 
 
 Nay, St. Paul himself, that great doctor of the Gen- 
 tiles, writing to his Corinthians, readily owns the name, 
 saying, If any man speak as a fool, I am more ; as if to 
 have been less so had been a reproach and disgrace. 
 
 But perhaps I may be censured for misinterpreting 
 this text by some modern annotators, who like crows 
 pecking at one another's eyes, find fault, and correct all 
 that went before them, each pretending that their own 
 glosses contain the only true and genuine explication : 
 among whom my Erasmus (whom I cannot but mention 
 with respect) may challenge the second place, if not the 
 precedency. This citation (say they) is purely imperti- 
 nent ; the meaning of the apostle is far different from 
 what you dream of. He would not have these words so 
 understood, as if he desired to be thought a greater fool
 
 The Devotion to Folly.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 291 
 
 than the rest, but only when he had before said, Are 
 they ministers of Christ? so am I : as if the comparing 
 himself herein to others had been too little, he adds, / 
 am more, thinking a bare equality not enough, unless 
 he were even superior to those he compares himself with. 
 This he would have to be believed as true ; yet lest it 
 might be thought offensive, as bordering too much on 
 arrogance and conceit, he tempers and alleviates it by 
 the covert of Folly. I speak (says he) as a fool, knowing 
 it to be the peculiar privilege of fools to speak the truth, 
 without giving offence. But what St. Paul's thoughts 
 were when he wrote this, I leave for them to determine. 
 In my own judgment at least I prefer the opinion of the 
 good old tun-bellied divines, with whom it's safer and 
 more creditable to err, than to be in the right with 
 smattering, raw, novices. 
 
 Nor indeed should any one mina the late critics any 
 more than the senseless chattering of a daw : especially 
 since one of the most eminent of them (whose name I 
 advisedly conceal, lest some of our wits should be taunt- 
 ing him with the Greek proverb, *Oo? npte Mpav, ad 
 lyram asinus) magisterially and dogmatically descanting 
 upon his text [are they the ministers of Christ? (I speak 
 as a foot) I am more} makes a distinct chapter, and 
 (which without good store of logic he could never have 
 done) adds a new section, and then gives this paraphrase, 
 which I shall verbatim recite, that you may have his 
 words materially, as well as formerly his sense (for that's 
 one of their babbling distinctions). [/ speak as a fool} 
 that is, if the equaling myself to those false apostles 
 would have been construed as the vaunt of a fool, I will
 
 2Q2 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 willingly be accounted a greater fool, by taking the 
 place of them, and openly pleading, that as to their 
 ministry, I not only come up even with them, but out- 
 strip and go beyond them : though this same commenta- 
 tor a little after, as it were forgetting what he had just 
 before delivered, tacks about and shifts to another in- 
 terpretation. 
 
 But why do I insist upon any one particular example, 
 when in general it is the public charter of all divines, to 
 mould and bend the sacred oracles till they comply with 
 their own fancy, spreading them (as Heaven by its Cre- 
 ator) like a curtain, closing together, or drawing them 
 back as they please ? 
 
 Thus indeed St. Paul himself minces and mangles 
 some citations he makes use of, and seems to wrest them 
 to a different sense from that for which they were first 
 intended, as is confessed by the great linguist, St. 
 Hierom. 
 
 Thus, when that apostle saw at Athens the inscription 
 of an altar, he draws from it an argument for the proof 
 of the Christian religion ; but leaving out a great part 
 of the sentence, which perhaps if fully recited might 
 have prejudiced his cause, he mentions only the two last 
 words, viz., To the unknown God ; and this too not 
 without alteration, for the whole inscription runs thus : 
 To the Gods 0/"Asia, Europe, and Africa, to all foreign 
 and unknown Gods. 
 
 'Tis an imitation of the same pattern, I will warrant 
 you, that our young divines, by leaving out four or five 
 words in a place, and putting a false construction on the 
 rest, can make any passage serviceable to their own pur-
 
 The Pope.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 295 
 
 pose ; though from the coherence of what went before, 
 or follows after, the genuine meaning appears to be 
 either [wide enough, or perhaps quite contradictory to 
 what they would thrust and impose upon .it. In which 
 knack the divines have grown now so expert, that the 
 lawyers themselves begin to be jealous of an encroach- 
 ment upon what was formerly their sole privilege and 
 practice. And indeed what can they despair of proving, 
 since the fore-mentioned commentator, (I had almost 
 blundered out his name, but that I am restrained by 
 fear of the same Greek proverbial sarcasm), did upon 
 a text of St. lyuke put an interpretation no more agreea- 
 ble to the meaning of the piece than one contrary quality 
 is to another. 
 
 The passage is this : when Judas' s treachery was pre- 
 paring to be executed, and accordingly it seemed requi- 
 site that all the disciples should be provided to guard 
 and secure their assaulted master, our Savior, that he 
 might piously caution them against reliance for his de- 
 livery on any worldly strength, asks them, whether in 
 all their embassy they lacked anything, when he had 
 sent them out so unfurnished for the performance of a 
 long journey, that they had not so much as shoes to de- 
 fend their feet from the injuries of flints and thorns, or 
 a scrip to carry a meal's meat in ; and when they had 
 answered that they lacked nothing, he adds, But now 
 he that hath a purse let him take it, and likewise a scrip : 
 and he that hath no sword let him sell his garment, and 
 buy one. 
 
 Now when the whole doctrine of our Savior inculcates 
 nothing more frequently than meekness, patience, and a
 
 296 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 
 
 contempt of this world, is it not plain what the meaning 
 of the advice is ? Namely, that he might now dismiss 
 his ambassadors in a more naked, defenceless condition. 
 He does not only advise them to take no thought for 
 shoes or scrip, but even commands them to part with the 
 very clothes from their back, that so they might have 
 the less incumbrance and entanglement in the going 
 through their office and function. 
 
 He cautions them, it is true, to be furnished with a 
 sword, yet not such a carnal one as rogues and highway- 
 men make use of for murder and bloodshed, but with 
 the sword of the Spirit, which pierces through the heart, 
 and searches out the innermost retirements of the soul, 
 lopping off all our lust, and corrupt affections, and 
 leaving nothing in possession of our breast but piety, 
 zeal, and devotion. 
 
 This, I say, in my opinion is the most natural inter- 
 pretation. But see how that divine misunderstands the 
 subject. 
 
 By sword, says he, is meant defence against persecu- 
 tion ; by scrip or purse, a sufficient quantity of provision ; 
 as if Christ had, by considering better of it, changed his 
 mind in reference to that mean equipage, which he had 
 before sent his disciples in, and therefore came now to a 
 recantation of what he had formerly instituted : or as if 
 he had forgotten what in time past he had told them, 
 Blessed are you when men shall revile you, and persecute 
 you, and say all manner of evil against you for my sake. 
 Render not evil for evil, for blessed are the meek, not 
 the cruel : as if he had forgotten that he encouraged 
 them by the examples of sparrows and lilies to take no
 
 Self Admiration.
 
 The Provident Preacher.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 301 
 
 thought for the morrow; he gives them now another 
 lesson, and charges them, rather than go without a sword, 
 to sell their garment, and buy one ; as if the going cold 
 and naked were more excusable than the marching un- 
 armed. And, as this author thinks all means which are 
 requisite for the prevention or retaliation of injuries to 
 be implied under the name of sword, so under that of 
 scrip, he would have everything to be comprehended, 
 which either the necessity or conveniency of life re- 
 quires. 
 
 Thus does this provident commentator furnish out the 
 disciples with halberts, spears, and guns, for the enter- 
 prise of preaching Christ crucified ; he supplies them at 
 the same time with pockets, bags, and portmanteaus, 
 that they might carry their cupboards as well as their 
 bellies always about them : he takes no notice how our 
 Savior afterwards rebukes Peter for drawing that sword 
 which he had just before so strictly charged him to buy; 
 nor that it is ever recorded that the primitive Christians 
 did by no ways withstand their heathen persecutors 
 otherwise than with tears and prayers, which they would 
 have exchanged more effectually for swords and bucklers, 
 if they had thought this text would have borne them out. 
 
 There is another, and he of no mean credit, whom for 
 respect to his person I shall forbear to name, who com- 
 menting upon that verse in the prophet Habakkuk (/ 
 saw the tents of Cushan in affliction, and the curtains of 
 the landofMidian did tremble), because tents were some- 
 times made of skins, he pretended that the word tents 
 did here signify the skin of St. Bartholomew, who was 
 flayed for a martyr.
 
 302 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 I myself was lately at a divinity disputation (where I 
 very often pay my attendance), where one of the oppo- 
 nents demanded a reason why it should be thought 
 more proper to silence all heretics by sword and fagot, 
 rather than convert them by moderate and sober 
 arguments. 
 
 A certain cynical old blade, who bore the character ol 
 a divine, legible in the frowns and wrinkles of his face, 
 not without a great deal of disdain answered, that it was 
 the express injunction of St. Paul himself, in those di- 
 rections to Titus (A man that is an heretic, after the 
 first and second admonition, reject\ quoting it in Latin, 
 where the word reject is devita, while all the auditory 
 wondered at this citation, and deemed it no way appli- 
 cable to his purpose ; he at last explained himself, saying, 
 that devita signified de vita tollendum hereticum, a he- 
 retic must be slain. Some smiled at his ignorance, but 
 others approved of it as an orthodox comment. And 
 however some disliked that such violence should be done 
 to so easy a text, our hair-splitting and irrefragable doc- 
 tor went on in triumph. 
 
 To prove it yet (says he) more undeniably, it is com- 
 manded in the old law [ Thou shall not suffer a witch to 
 live .] now, then, every Maleficus, or witch, is to be 
 killed, but an heretic is Maleficus, which in the Latin 
 translation is put for a witch, ergo, &c. 
 
 All that were present wondered at the ingenuity of the 
 person, and very devoutly embraced his opinion, never 
 dreaming that the law was restrained only to magicians, 
 sorcerers, and enchanters : for otherwise, if the word 
 Maleficus signified what it most naturally implies, every
 
 Slow of Heart.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 305 
 
 evil-doer, then drunkenness and whoredom were to meet 
 with the same capital punishment as witchcraft, magic, 
 and sorcery. 
 
 But why should I squander away my time in a too 
 tedious prosecution of this topic, which if drove on to 
 the utmost would afford talk to eternity ? I aim herein 
 at no more than this, namely, that since those grave 
 doctors take such a swinging range and latitude, I, who 
 am but a smattering novice in divinity, may have the 
 larger allowance for any slips or mistakes. 
 
 Now, therefore, I return to St. Paul, who uses these 
 expressions [Ye suffer fools gladly], applying it to him- 
 self; and again \_As a fool receive me], and \That which 
 I speak, I speak not after the Lord, but as it were fool- 
 ishly}; and in another place \We are fools for Chris fs 
 sake]. 
 
 See how these commendations of Folly are equal to 
 the author of them, both great and sacred. The same 
 holy person does yet enjoin and command the being a 
 fool, as a virtue of all others most requisite and necessary : 
 for, says he, \Jf any man seem to be wise in this world, 
 let him become a fool that he may be wise]. Thus St. 
 L/uke records, how our Savior, after his resurrection, 
 joining himself with two of his disciples traveling to 
 Emmaus, at his first salutation he calls them fools, say- 
 ing \_Ofools and slow of heart to believe"]. Nor may this 
 seem strange in comparison to what is yet farther deliv- 
 ered by St. Paul, who adventures to attribute something 
 of Folly even to the all- wise God himself {The foolish- 
 ness of God (says he) is wiser than men] ; in which text 
 St. Origen would not have the word foolishness any way
 
 306 THE PRAISE OF 
 
 referred to men, or applicable to the same sense, wherein 
 is to be understood that other passage of St. Paul \The 
 preaching of the cross to them that perish, foolishness']. 
 
 But why do I put myself to the trouble of citing so 
 many proofs, since this one may suffice for all, namely, 
 that in those mystical psalms, wherein David represents 
 the type of Christ, it is there acknowledged by our Sav- 
 ior, in way of confession, that even he himself was guilty 
 of Folly; Thou (says he) O God knowest my foolishness f 
 
 Nor is it without some reason that fools for their 
 plainness and sincerity of heart have always been most 
 acceptable to God Almighty. For as the princes of this 
 world have shrewdly suspected, and carried ajealous eye 
 over such of their subjects as were the most observant 
 and deepest politicians (for thus Caesar was afraid of the 
 plodding Cassius, and Brutus thought himself secure 
 enough from the careless drinking Anthony ; Nero like- 
 wise mistrusted Seneca, and Dionysius would have been 
 willingly rid of Plato), whereas they can all put greater 
 confidence in such as are of less subtlety and contrivance. 
 
 So our Savior in like manner dislikes and condemns 
 the wise and crafty, as St. Paul expressly declared in 
 these words, God hath chosen the foolish things of the 
 world ; and again, it pleased God by foolishness to save 
 the world; implying that by wisdom it could never have 
 been saved. 
 
 Nay, God himself testifies as much when he speaks by 
 the mouth of his prophet, / will destroy the wisdom of 
 the wise, and bring to naught the understanding of the 
 learned. 
 
 Again, our Savior does solemnly return his Father
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 307 
 
 thanks for that he had hidden the mysteries of salvation 
 from the wise, and revealed them unto babes, i. e., to 
 fools ; for the original word vrjitiois, being opposed to 
 dofox, if one signify wise, the other must foolish. 
 
 To the same purpose did our blessed Lord frequently 
 condemn and upbraid the scribes, pharisees, and lawyers, 
 while he carries himself kind and obliging to the un- 
 learned multitude : for what otherwise can be the mean- 
 ing of that tart denunciation, Woe unto you scribes and 
 Pharisees, than woe unto you wise men, whereas he 
 seems chiefly delighted with children, women, and illit- 
 erate fishermen. 
 
 We may farther take notice, that among all the sev- 
 eral kinds of brute creatures he shows greatest liking to 
 such as are farthest distant from the subtlety of the fox. 
 Thus in his progress to Jerusalem he chose to ride sitting 
 upon an ass, though, if he pleased, he might have 
 mounted the back of a lion with more of state, and as 
 little of danger. The Holy Spirit chose rather likewise 
 to descend from heaven in the shape of a simple guile- 
 less dove, than that of an eagle, kite, or other more 
 lofty fowl. 
 
 Thus all along in the holy scriptures there are frequent 
 metaphors and similitudes of the most inoffensive creat- 
 ures, such as stags, hinds, lambs, and the like. Nay, 
 those blessed souls that in the day of judgment are to be 
 placed at our Savior's right hand are called sheep, which 
 are the most senseless and stupid of all cattle, as is evi- 
 denced by Aristotle's Greek proverb, Ttpo/Sdroov r$o$, a 
 sheepishness of temper, i. e., a dull, blockish, sleepy, un- 
 manly humor. Yet of such a flock Christ is not ashamed
 
 308 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 to profess himself the shepherd. Nay, he would not 
 only have all his proselytes termed sheep, but even he 
 himself would be called a lamb ; as when John the Bap- 
 tist seeth Jesus coming unto him, he saith, Behold the 
 Lamb of God ; which same title is very often given to 
 our Savior in the apocalypse. 
 
 All this amounts to no less than that all mortal men 
 are fools, even the righteous and godly as well as sin- 
 ners; nay, in some sense our blessed Lord himself, who, 
 although he was the wisdom of the Father, yet to repair 
 the infirmities of fallen man, he became in some measure 
 a partaker of human Folly, when he took our nature 
 upon him, and was formed in fashion as a man ; or when 
 God made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we 
 might be made the righteousness of God in him. 
 
 Nor would he heal those breaches our sins had made 
 by any other method than by the foolishness of 'the cross, 
 published by the ignorant and unlearned apostles, to 
 whom he frequently recommends the excellence of Folly, 
 cautioning them against the infectionness of wisdom, by 
 the several examples he proposes them to imitate, such 
 as children, lilies, sparrows, mustard, and such like 
 beings, which are either wholly inanimate, or at least 
 devoid of reason and ingenuity, guided by no other con- 
 duct than that of instinct, without care, trouble or con- 
 trivance. 
 
 To the same intent the disciples were warned by their 
 lord and master, that when they should be brought unto 
 the synagogues, and unto magistrates and powers, they 
 shall take no thought how, or what thing they should an- 
 swer, nor what they should say : they were again strictly
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 309 
 
 forbid to enquire into the times and seasons, or to place 
 any confidence in their own abilities, but to depend 
 wholly upon divine assistance. 
 
 At the first peopling of paradise the Almighty had 
 never laid so strict a charge on our father Adam to re- 
 frain from eating of the tree of knowledge except he had 
 thereby forewarned him that the taste of knowledge 
 would be the bane of all happiness. 
 
 St. Paul says expressly, that knowledge puffeth up, i.e., 
 it is fatal and poisonous. In pursuance whereunto St. 
 Bernard interprets that the exceeding high mountain, 
 whereon the devil had erected his seat, must have been 
 the mountain of knowledge. 
 
 And perhaps this may be another argument which 
 ought not to be omitted, namely, that Folly is accepta- 
 ble, or at least excusable, with the gods, inasmuch, as 
 they easily pass by the heedless failures of fools, while 
 the miscarriages of such as are known to have more wit 
 shall very hardly obtain a pardon ; nay, when a wise 
 man comes to sue for an acquitment from any guilt, he 
 must shroud himself under the patronage and pretext of 
 Folly. 
 
 For thus in the twelfth of Numbers, Aaron entreats 
 Moses to stay the leprosy of his sister Miriam, saying, 
 alas, my Lord, I beseech thee lay not the sin upon us, 
 wherein we have done foolishly. 
 
 Thus, when David spared Saul's life, when he found 
 him sleeping in a tent of Hachilah, not willing to stretch 
 forth his hand against the Lord's anointed, Saul excuses 
 his former severity by confessing, Behold, I have played 
 the fool and have erred exceedingly.
 
 310 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 David also, in much the same form, begs the remission 
 of his sin from God Almighty with this prayer, Lord, I 
 pray thee take away the iniquity of thy servant, for I 
 have done very foolishly ; as if he could not have hoped 
 otherwise to have his pardon granted except he petitioned 
 for it under the covert and mitigation of Folly. 
 
 The agreeable practice of our Savior is yet more con- 
 vincing, who, when he hung upon the cross, prayed for 
 his enemies, saying, Father, forgive them, urging no 
 other plea in their behalf than that of their ignorance, 
 for they know not what they do. To the same effect St. 
 Paul in his first epistle to Timothy acknowledges he had 
 been a blasphemer and a persecutor, But (saith he) / 
 obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly in unbelief. 
 Now what is the meaning of the phrase [/ did it igno- 
 rantly^ but only this ? My fault was occasioned from a 
 misinformed Folly, not from a deliberate malice. What 
 signifies [ / obtained mercy} but only that I should not 
 otherwise have obtained it had not folly and ignorance 
 been my vindication ? 
 
 To the same purpose is that other passage in the mys- 
 terious Psalmist, which I forgot to mention in its proper 
 place, namely, Oh, remember not the sins and offences of 
 my youth ! the word which we render offences, is in 
 Latin ignorantias, ignorances. Observe, the two things 
 he alleges in his excuse are, first, his rawness of age, to 
 which Folly and want of experience are constant attend- 
 ants : and secondly, his ignorances, expressed in the 
 plural number for an enhancement and aggravation of 
 his foolishness. 
 
 But that I may .not wear out this subject too far, to
 
 Wise in the Distribution of Charity.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 313 
 
 draw now towards a conclusion, it is observable that the 
 Christian religion seems to have some relation to Folly, 
 and no alliance at all with wisdom. Of the truth 
 whereof, if you desire farther proof than my bare word, 
 you may please, first, to consider, that children, women, 
 old men, and fools, led as it were by a secret impulse o. 
 nature, are always most constant in repairing to church, 
 and most zealous, devout and attentive in the perform- 
 ance of the several parts of divine service ; nay, the first 
 promulgators of the gospel, and the first converts to 
 Christianity, were men of plainness and simplicity, 
 wholly unacquainted with secular policy or learning. 
 
 Farther, there are none more silly, or nearer their 
 wits' end, than those who are too superstitiously relig- 
 ious. They are profusely lavish in their charity; they 
 invite fresh affronts by an easy forgiveness of past in- 
 juries ; they suffer themselves to be cheated and imposed 
 upon by laying claim to the innocence of the dove ; they 
 make it the interest of no person to oblige them, because 
 they will love, and do good to their enemies, as much as 
 to the most endearing friends ; they banish all pleasure, 
 feeding upon the penance of watching, weeping, fasting, 
 sorrow and reproach ; they value not their lives, but 
 with St. Paul, wish to be dissolved, and covet the fiery 
 trial of martyrdom : in a word, they seem altogether so 
 destitute of common sense, that their soul seems already 
 separated from the dead and inactive body. And what 
 else can we imagine all this to be than downright 
 madness ? 
 
 Is it the less strange therefore that at the feast of 
 Pentecost the apostles should be thought drunk with
 
 314 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 new wine ? or that St. Paul was censured by Festus to 
 have been beside himself? 
 
 And, since I have had the confidence to go thus far, I 
 shall venture yet a little farther, and be so bold as to 
 say this much more : All that final happiness which 
 Christians, through so many rubs and briars of difficul- 
 ties, contend for, is at last no better than a sort of folly 
 and madness. 
 
 This, no question, will be thought extravagantly 
 spoken ; but consider awhile, and deliberately examine 
 the case. 
 
 First, then, the Christians so far agree with the Plato- 
 nists as to believe that the body is no better than a dun- 
 geon or prison for the confinement of the soul. That, 
 therefore, while the sotfl is shackled to the walls of flesh, 
 her soaring wings are impeded, and all her enlivening 
 faculties clogged and fettered by the gross particles of 
 matter, so that she may neither freely range after, nor, 
 when happily overtaken, can quietly contemplate her 
 proper object of truth. 
 
 Farther, Plato defines philosophy to be the meditation 
 of death, because the one performs the same office with 
 the other ; namely, withdraws the mind from all visible 
 and corporeal objects ; therefore while the soul doth pa- 
 tiently actuate the several organs and members of the 
 body, so long is a man accounted of a good and sound 
 disposition ; but when the soul, weary of her confine- 
 ment, struggles to break jail, and fly beyond her cage of 
 flesh and blood, then a man is censured at least for being 
 maggoty and crack-brained ; nay, if there be any defect in 
 the external organs it is then termed downright madness.
 
 Industry.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOU,Y. 317 
 
 And yet many times persons thus affected shall have 
 prophetic ecstasies of foretelling things to come, shall in 
 a rapture talk languages they never before learned, and 
 seem in all things actuated by something divine and ex- 
 traordinary; and all this, no doubt, is only the effect of 
 the soul's being more released from its engagement to 
 the body, whereby it can with less impediment exert the 
 energy of life and motion. 
 
 From hence, no doubt, has sprung an observation of 
 like nature, confirmed now into a settled opinion, that 
 some long experienced souls in the world, before their 
 dislodging, arrive to the height of prophetic spirits. 
 
 If this disorder arises from an intemperance in religion 
 and too high a strain of devotion, though it be of a some- 
 what differing sort, yet it is so near akin to the former, 
 that a great part of mankind apprehend it as a mere 
 madness ; especially when persons of that superstitious 
 humor are so pragmatical and singular as to separate and 
 live apart as it were from all the world beside. So as 
 they seem to have experienced what Plato dreams to 
 have happened between some, who, enclosed in a dark 
 cave, did only ruminate on the ideas and abstract specu- 
 lations of entities ; and one other of their company who 
 had got abroad into the open light, and at his return 
 tells them what a blind mistake they had lain under, 
 that he had seen the substance of what their dotage of 
 imagination reached only in shadow; that, therefore, he 
 could not but pity and regret their deluding dreams, 
 while they on the other side no less bewailed his frenzy, 
 and turned him out of their society for a lunatic and 
 madman.
 
 318 THE PRAISE OF FOLI<Y. 
 
 Thus the vulgar are wholly taken up with those ob- 
 jects that are most familiar to their senses, beyond which 
 they are apt to think all is but fairy-land ; while those 
 that are devoutly religious scorn to set their thoughts or 
 affections on any things below, but mount their soul to 
 the pursuit of incorporeal and invisible beings. 
 
 The former, in their marshaling the requisites of hap- 
 piness, place riches in the front, the endowments of the 
 body in the next rank, and leave the accomplishments 
 of the soul to bring up the rear ; nay, some will scarce 
 believe there is any such thing at all as the soul, because 
 they cannot literally see a reason for their faith ; while 
 the others pay their first fruits of service to that most 
 simple and incomprehensible Being, God, and employ 
 themselves next in providing for the happiness of that 
 which comes nearest to their immortal soul, being not 
 at all mindful of their corrupt bodily carcases, and 
 even slighting money as the dirt and rubbish of the 
 world. 
 
 Or if at any time some urging occasions require them 
 to become entangled in secular affairs, they do it with 
 regret, and a kind of ill-will, observing what St. Paul 
 advises his Corinthians, having wives, and yet being as 
 though they had none ; buying, and yet remaining as 
 though they possessed not. 
 
 There are between these two sorts of persons many 
 differences in several other respects. As first, though 
 all the senses have the same mutual relation to the body, 
 yet some are more gross than others ; as those five cor- 
 poreal ones, of touching, hearing, smelling, seeing, 
 tasting : whereas some again are more refined, and less
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 319 
 
 adulterated with matter ; such are the memory, the un- 
 derstanding, and the will. 
 
 Now, the mind will always be most ready and expe- 
 ditious at that to which it is naturally most inclined. 
 Hence is it that a pious soul, employing all its power 
 and abilities in the pressing after such things as are far- 
 thest removed from sense, is perfectly stupid and brutish 
 in the management of any worldly affairs; while on the 
 other side, the vulgar are so intent upon their business 
 and employment, that they have not time to bestow one 
 poor thought upon a future eternity. 
 
 From such ardor of divine meditation it was that Saint 
 Bernard in his study drank oil instead of wine, and yet 
 his thoughts were so taken up that he never observed 
 the mistake. 
 
 Farther, among the passions of the soul, some have a 
 greater communication with the body than others ; as 
 lust, the desire of meat and sleep, anger, pride, and 
 envy : with these the pious man is at continual war, and 
 irreconcilable enmity, while the vulgar cherish and 
 foment them as the best comforts of life. 
 
 There are other affections of a middle nature, common 
 and innate to every man ; such as love to one's country, 
 duty to parents, love to children, kindness to friends, 
 and such like ; to these the vulgar pay some respect, but 
 the religious endeavor to supplant and eradicate them 
 from their soul, except they can raise and sublimate 
 them to the most refined pitch of virtue; so as to love 
 or honor their parents, not barely under that character 
 (for what did they do more than generate a body ? nay, 
 even for that we are primarily beholden to God, the first
 
 320 THE PRAISE OF FOI^Y. 
 
 parent of all mankind), but as good men only, upon 
 whom is imprinted the lively image of that divine 
 nature, which they esteem as the chief and only good, 
 beyond whom nothing deserves to be beloved nothing 
 desired. 
 
 By the same rule they measure all the other offices or 
 duties of life ; in each of which, whatever is earthly or 
 corporeal, shall be, if not wholly rejected, yet at least 
 put behind what faith makes the substance of things not 
 seen. Thus in the sacraments, and all other acts of re- 
 ligion, they make a difference between the outward 
 appearance or body of them, and the more inward soul 
 or spirit. As for instance, in fasting, they think it very 
 ineffectual to abstain from flesh, or debar themselves of 
 a meal's meat (which yet is all the vulgar understand by 
 this duty), unless they likewise restrain their passions, 
 subdue their anger, and mortify their pride ; that the 
 soul being thus disengaged from the entanglement of the 
 body, may have a better relish for spiritual objects, and 
 take a foretaste of heaven. 
 
 Thus (say they) in the holy Eucharist, though the 
 outward form and ceremonies are not wholly to be de- 
 spised, yet are these prejudicial, at least unprofitable, if 
 as bare signs only they are not accompanied with the 
 thing signified, which is the body and blood of Christ, 
 whose death, till his second coming, we are hereby to 
 represent by the vanquishing and burying of our vile 
 affections that they may arise to a newness of life, and 
 be united first to each other, then all to Christ. 
 
 These are the actions and meditations of the truly 
 pious person ; while the vulgar display all their religion
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 331 
 
 in crowding up close to the altar, in listening to the 
 words of the priest, and in being very circumspect in the 
 observance of each trifling ceremony. 
 
 Nor is it in such cases only as we have here given for 
 instances, but through his whole course of life, that the 
 pious man, without any regard to the baser materials of 
 the body, interests himself wholly in a fixed intentness 
 upon spiritual, invisible, and eternal objects. 
 
 Now since these persons stand off, and keep at so wide 
 a distance between themselves, it is customary for them 
 both to think each other mad ; and were I to give my 
 opinion as to which of the two the name doth most prop- 
 erly belong, I should, I confess, adjudge it to the relig- 
 ious ; of the reasonableness whereof you may be farther 
 convinced, if I proceed to demonstrate what I formerly 
 hinted at, namely, that the ultimate happiness which 
 religion proposes is no other than some sort of madness. 
 
 First, therefore, Plato dreamed somewhat of this na- 
 ture when he tells us that the madness of lovers was of 
 all other dispositions of the body most desirable ; for he 
 who is once thoroughly smitten with this passion, lives 
 no longer within himself, but has removed his soul to 
 the same place where he has settled his affections, and 
 loses himself to find the object he so much dotes upon. 
 
 This straying now, and wandering of a soul from its 
 own mansion, what is it better than a plain transport of 
 madness ? What else can be the meaning of those pro- 
 verbial phrases, non est apud se, he is not himself; ad 
 te redi, recover yourself; and sibi redditus est, he is 
 come again to himself? 
 
 And, accordingly, as love is more hot and eager, so is
 
 322 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 the madness, thence ensuing, more incurable and yet 
 more happy. 
 
 Now what shall be that future happiness of glorified 
 saints, which pious souls here on earth so earnestly groan 
 for, but only that the spirit, as the more potent and 
 prevalent victor, shall over-master and swallow up the 
 body; and that the more easily, because while here 
 below, the several members, by being mortified and kept 
 in subjection, were the better prepared for this separa- 
 ting change ; and afterward the spirit itself shall be lost 
 and drowned in the abyss of beatific vision, so as the 
 man's whole nature will then be beyond its own bounds 
 and, transported into ecstasy and wonder, will feel some 
 unspeakable influence from that omnipotent Being who 
 makes all things completely blessed by assimilating 
 them to his own likeness. 
 
 Now, although this happiness be then only con- 
 summated when souls at the general resurrection shall 
 be reunited to their bodies, and both be clothed with im- 
 mortality, yet because a religious life is but a continued 
 meditation upon, and as it were a transcript of the joys 
 of heaven, therefore to such persons is allowed some rel- 
 ish and foretaste of that pleasure here, which is to be 
 their reward hereafter. 
 
 And although this indeed be but a small pittance of 
 satisfaction compared with that future inexhaustible 
 fountain of blessedness, yet it doth abundantly over- 
 balance all worldly delights, were they all in conjunction 
 set off to their best advantage ; so great is the pre- 
 cedency of spiritual things before corporeal of invisible 
 before material and visible.
 
 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 325 
 
 This is what the apostle gives an eloquent description 
 of, where he says by way of encouragement, that eye 
 hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the 
 heart of man to conceive those things which God hath 
 prepared for them that love him. This likewise is that 
 better part which Mary chose, which shall not be taken 
 from her, but perfected and completed by her : mortal 
 putting on immortality. 
 
 Now those who are thus devoutly affected (though 
 few are so), undergo somewhat of a strange alteration 
 very nearly approaching to madness ; they speak many 
 things in an abrupt and incoherent manner, as if they 
 were actuated by some malevolent demon ; they make 
 an articulate noise, without any distinguishable sense 
 or meaning ; they sometimes twist and distort their 
 faces into uncouth and antic forms ; at one time being 
 beyond measure cheerful, then as immoderately sullen ; 
 now sobbing, then laughing, and soon after sighing, as 
 if they were perfectly distracted, and out of their senses. 
 If they have any sober intervals of coming to themselves 
 again, like St. Paul, they then confess, that they were 
 caught up they know not where, whether in the body, or 
 out of the body, they cannot tell ; as if they had been in 
 a dead sleep or trance, they remember nothing of what 
 they have heard, seen, said or done. This they only 
 know, that their past delusion was a most desirable hap- 
 piness ; that therefore they bewail nothing more than 
 the loss of it, nor wish for any greater joy than the quick 
 return of it, and its more durable abode with them for- 
 ever. And this (as I have said) is the foretaste or antic- 
 ipation of future blessedness.
 
 326 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 
 
 But I dbubt not but that I have forgotten myself, 
 and have already transgressed the bounds of modesty. 
 However, if I have said anything too confidently or im- 
 pertinently, be pleased to consider that it was spoken by 
 Folly, and that under the person of a woman ; yet at 
 the same time remember the applicableness of that 
 Greek proverb : 
 
 A fool oft speaks a seasonable buth. 
 
 Unless you will be so witty as to object that this makes 
 no apology for me, because the word d^p signifies a man, 
 not a woman, and consequently my sex debars me from 
 the benefit of that observation. 
 
 I perceive now, that, for a concluding treat, you ex- 
 pect a formal epilogue, and the summing up of all in a 
 brief recitation; but I will assure you, you are grossly 
 mistaken if you suppose that after such a hodge-podge 
 medley of speech I should be able to recollect anything I 
 have delivered. Beside, as it is an old proverb, /<? 
 juvtitiovav Gvintorav . I hate a pot companion with a good 
 memory ; so indeed I may as truly say, mGu juvu^ovay 
 axpoarjiv : I hate a hearer that will carry any thing away 
 with him. Wherefore, in short : 
 
 Farewell .' live long, drink deep, be jolly > 
 Ye most illustrious votaries of folly !
 
 LINES ON THE PRECEDING WORK. 
 
 THERE'S ne'er a blade of honor in the town, 
 But if you chance to term him fool and clown, 
 Straight satisfaction cries, and then with speed 
 The time, the place, and rapier's length's decreed. 
 Prodigious fops, I'll swear, which can't agree 
 To be call'd what 'tis their happiness to be : 
 
 Blest Idiots! 
 
 That in an humble sphere securely move, 
 And there the sweets of a safe dullness prove, 
 Nor envy the proud heights of those who range above, 
 Folly, sure friend of a misguided will, 
 Affords a kind excuse for doing ill ; 
 And Socrates, that prudent, thinking tool, 
 Had the gods lik'd him, would have prov'd a. fool. 
 Methinks our author, when without a flaw, 
 The graces of his mistress he doth draw, 
 Wishes (if Metempsychosis be but true, 
 And souls do change their case, and act anew), ' 
 In his next life he surely might aspire 
 To the dull brains of some soft country squire, 
 Whose head with such like rudiments is fraught, 
 As in his youth his careful grannam taught. 
 
 And now (dear friend) how shall we to thy brow 
 Pay all those laurels which we justly owe? 
 For thou fresh honors to the work dost bring, 
 And to the theme : nor seems that pleasing thing, 
 Which he so well in Latin hath express'd, 
 Less comical in English garments dress'd ; 
 Thy sentences are all so clearly wrought, 
 And so exactly plac'd is every thought, 
 That, which is more oblig'd we scarce can see 
 The subjedl by thine author, or himself by thee. 
 (327)
 
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