EUPH.--I have heard, that among perfons of that character, a game of cards is esteemed a chief diverfion. LYS.Without cards, there could be no living for people of fashion. It is the most delightful way of paffing an evening, when gentlemen and ladies are got together, who would otherwise be at a loss what to fay or do with themfelves. But a pack of cards is fo engaging, that it doth not only employ them, when they are met, but serves to draw them together. Quadrille gives them pleasure in profpect, during the dull hours of the day, they reflect on it with delight, and it furnishes discourse when it is over. CRI.-One would be apt to fufpect, thofe people of condition pass their time but heavily, and are but little the better for their fortunes, whose chief amusement is a thing in the power of every footman, who is as well qualified to receive pleasure from cards as a peer. I can eafily conceive that, when people of a certain turn are got together, they should prefer doing any thing to the ennui of their own converfation: but it is not eafy to conceive, that there is any great pleasure in this. What a cardtable can afford, requires neither parts nor fortune to judge of. Lys.-Play is a serious amusement, that comes to the relief of a man of pleasure, after the more lively and affecting enjoyments of fenfe. It kills time beyond any thing; and is a most admirable anodyne to divert or prevent thought, which might, otherwife, prey upon the mind. CRI.-I readily comprehend, that no man upon earth ought to prize anodynes for the spleen, more than a man of fashion and pleasure. An ancient fage, fpeaking of one of that character, faith, he is made wretched by difappointments and appetites, lupeitai apotunchanôn, kai epithumōn. And if this was true of the Greeks, who lived in the fun, and had no fuch spirit, I am apt to think it is still more fo of our modern English. Something there is M in our climate and complexion, that makes idleness no where so much its own punishment as in England, where an uneducated fine gentleman pays for his momentary pleasures, with long and cruel intervals of spleen; for relief of which, he is driven into fenfual exceffes, that produce a proportionable depreffion of fpirits, which, as it createth a greater want of pleasures, fo it leffens the ability to enjoy them. There is a cast of thought, in the complexion of an Englishman, which renders him the moft unfuccefsful rake in the world. He is (as Ariftotle exprefleth it) at variance with himself. He is neither brute enough to enjoy his appetites, nor man enough to govern them. He knows and feels, that what he pursues is not his true good; his reflexion serving only to fhew him that mifery, which his habitual floth and indolence will not fuffer him to remedy. At length, being grown odious to himself, and abhorring his own company, he runs into every idle affembly, not from the hopes of pleafure, but merely to refpite the pain of his own mind.Liftlefs and uneafy at the prefent, he hath no delight in reflecting on what is paft, or in the profpect of any thing to come. This man of pleasure, when after a wretched scene of vanity and woe, his animal nature is worn to the ftumps, wishes and dreads death, by turns, and is fick of living, without having ever tried or known the true life of man. EUPH. It is well this fort of life, which is of fo little benefit to the owner, conduceth fo much to that of the public. But pray tell me, do these gentlemen fet up for Minute Philofophers? CRI. That fect, you must know, of philofophers, the wet and the dry. defcribing, are of the former kind. practice than in theory. man, from one that is of pleasure. contains two forts Those I have been They differ rather in As an older, graver, or duller younger, and more capable or fond The dry philofopher paffeth his time but drily. He has the honor of pimping for the vices of more sprightly men, who, in return, offer fome fmall incenfe to his vanity. Upon this encouragement, and to make his own mind easy, when it is past being pleased, he employs himself in justifying those exceffes he cannot partake in. But to return to your question, those miserable folk are mighty men for the Minute Philofophy. EUPH.-What hinders them, then, from putting an end to their lives? CRI. Their not being perfuaded of the truth of what they profefs. Some, indeed, in a fit of despair, do now and then lay violent hands on themselves. And, as the Minute Philofophy prevails, we daily fee more examples of fuicide. But they bear no proportion to those, who would put an end to their lives, if they durst. My friend, Clinias, who had been one of them, and a philofopher of rank, let me into the fecret hiftory of their doubts and fears, and irrefolute refolutions, of making away with themselves; which laft, he affures me, is a frequent topic with men of pleasure, when they have drunk themfelves into a little fpirit. It was by virtue of this mechanical valour, the renowned philosopher, Hermocrates, shot himself through the head. The fame thing hath been practised by several others, to the great relief of their friends. Splenetic, worried, and frightened out of their wits, they run upon their doom with the fame courage as a bird runs into the mouth of a rattle-fnake; not because they are bold to die, but because they are afraid to live. Clinias endeavored to fortify his irreligion, by the discourse and opinion of other Minute Philofophers, who were mutually strengthened in their own unbelief by his. After this manner, authority working in a circle, they endeavored to atheize one another. But though he pretended, even to a demonftration, against the being of a God, yet he could not inwardly conquer his own belief. He fell fick, and acknowledged this truth; is now a so ber man, and a christian; owns he was never fo happy as fince he became fuch, nor fo wretched as while he was a Minute Philofopher. And he, who has tried both conditions, may be allowed a proper judge of both. Lys.--Truly, a fine account of the brightest and bravest men of the age! But our CRI.-Bright and brave are fine attributes. curate is of opinion, that all your free-thinking rakes are either fools or cowards. Thus he argues; if such a man doth not see his true intereft, he wants sense; if he doth, but dare not purfue it, he wants courage. In this manner, from the defect of fenfe and courage, he deduceth, that whole fpecies of men, who are so apt to value themfelves upon both thofe qualities. Lys. As for their courage, they are at all times ready to give proof of it: and, for their understanding, thanks to nature, it is of a fize not to be measured by country parfons. XVIII. EUPH.---But Socrates, who was no country parfon, fufpected your men of pleasure were fuch, through ig norance. Lys.---Ignorance! of what? EUPH.---Of the art of computing. It was his opinion, that rakes cannot reckon.* And that, for want of this fkill, they make wrong judgments about pleasure, on the right choice of which their happiness depends. Lys.---I do not understand you. EUPH.Do you grant that sense perceiveth only fenfi ble things? LYS.----I do. EUPH.-Senfe perceiveth only things present. EUPH.----Future pleasures, therefore, and pleasures of the understanding, are not to be judged of by fenfe. Lys.----They are not. *Plato in Protag. EUPH.----Thofe, therefore, who judge of pleasures by sense, may find themselves mistaken at the foot of the ac count. + Cùm lapidofa chiragra Contudit articulos veteris ramalia fagi, To make a right computation, fhould you not confider all the faculties, and all the kinds of pleasure, taking into your account the future, as well as the present, and rating them all according to their true value ? CRI.The Epicureans themselves allowed, that pleafure, which procures a greater pain, or hinders a greater pleasure, fhould be regarded as a pain; and, that pain, which procures a greater pleasure, or prevents a greater pain, is to be accounted a pleasure. In order, therefore, to make a true estimate of pleasure, the great spring of action, and that from whence the conduct of life takes its bias, we ought to compute intellectual pleasures and future pleafures, as well as present and sensible: We ought to make allowance in the valuation of each particular pleasure, for all the pains and evils, for all the disgust, remorse, and shame that attend it: We ought to regard both kind and quantity, the fincerity, the intenfenefs, and the duration of pleasures. Let a free-thinker but bethink himself, how little of human pleasure confifts in actual fenfation, and how much in profpect! let him then compare the profpect of a virtuous believer with that of an unbelieving rake. EUPH.----And all these points duly confidered, will not Socrates feem to have had reafon of his fide, when he thought ignorance made rakes, and particularly their being ignorant of what he calls the science of more and less, great+ Perfius, Sat. 5. |