Ebrietatis Encomium.

by Boniface Oinophilus and Albert-Henri de Sallengre.

PREFACE.

If ever preface might serve for an apology, certainly this ought to do so. The bare t.i.tle of the book is enough to have it universally cried down, and to give the world an ill opinion of its author; for people will not be backward to say, that he who writes the Praise of Drunkenness, must be a drunkard by profession; and who, by discoursing on such a subject, did nothing but what was in his own trade, and resolved not to move out of his own sphere, not unlike Baldwin, a shoe-maker's son, (and a shoe-maker), in the days of yore, who published a treatise on the shoes of the ancients, having a firm resolution strictly to observe this precept, _Ne sutor ultra crepidam_.

To this I answer, I am very well contented, that the world should believe me as much a drunkard, as Erasmus, who wrote The Praise of Folly, was a fool, and weigh me in the same balance.

But some will say, what good can a man propose to himself in being a panegyrist for drunkenness? To solve this difficulty I shall make use of a comparison.

M. Pelisson, in his History of the French Academy, says, that Menage did not compose that famous Requete des Dictionaires, in which he ridicules all the academics, on account of any aversion he had to them, but purely to divert himself, and not to lose the witty turns that came into his head upon that subject. In the same manner, I declare that I did not undertake this work on account of any zeal I have for wine, you must think, but only to divert myself, and not to lose a great many curious remarks I have made upon this most catholic liquid.

It may farther be objected, that this work is so stuffed with quotations, that they hinder the book itself from being seen; like what I heard say of a country fellow, who complained when he left London, that he could not see it for the houses. As an excuse for all the others, I shall make use of one quotation more, and this I shall borrow from Mr. Bayle.[1] "There is no room to doubt," says he, "but some readers will judge, that there are a little too many quotations in this work, which is no less a disorder, they will say, than what happens in some cities, where the strangers are more numerous than the citizens.

But of what importance is it to travellers, that such disorder appears in any country, provided they find in it honest folks. There is no reason why reading may not be compared to travelling. We should therefore be very little concerned, whether, according to the ancient country frugality, we are entertained with what is of its proper growth; or if, instead of the flesh of domestic animals, and the fruits of our own vineyards and gardens, we are served with what comes from the market. That which really is of consequence is, that the meat be wholesome and well dressed, and the wine good, &c. _Unde habeat quaerat nemo, sufficit habere._"

As to the rest, I am very far from the sentiments of a certain writer, who having found in his book _one_ fault only, consulted one of his friends, whether he should put down Errata or Erratum. For my part, I subscribe with all my heart to the Errata of Benserade, and in his words frankly own, that

Pour moy, parmi des fautes innombrables, Je n'en connois que deux considerables, Et dont je fais ma declaration, C'est l'entreprise et l'execution, A mon avis fautes irreparables, En ce volume.

Though num'rous faults I see in this small book, (And so may any one that will but look), I know but _two_ of much consideration, Of which I here make public declaration, The _undertaking_ and the _execution_, Faults too extravagant for absolution.

[Footnote 1: Pref. des Rep. aux Quest. d'un Pr. T. 1.]

CHAP. I.

THAT ONE MUST BE MERRY.

If on one hand I have reason to fear that the t.i.tle of this book will offend the delicate ears of a great many, and make them say, that no vice ever wanted its advocate, _Nullo vitio unquam defuit advocatus_; I am not, perhaps, less exposed on the other to the criticisms of as many folks, who will probably apply to me that which was said heretofore to one in Lacedemonia, who had a mind to make an encomium on Hercules, viz.

Who ever blamed Hercules?

Quis Herculem vituperavit?

However, though I should have no readers at all, yet am I resolved to continue my discourse at the hazard, in some manner, of imitating Pyrrho the philosopher, who one day, as he was haranguing the people, seeing himself abandoned by all his auditors, pursued very magnanimously his declamation to the end. To enter, therefore, upon the present subject, I lay down this as my first position, viz. That it is lawful to get drunk sometimes. Which I prove thus:--

Sadness is in the highest degree prejudicial to health, and causes abundance of distempers. There is no one ignorant of this truth. Joy (or mirth) on the contrary, prevents and forces them away. It is, as the Arabians say, the flower and spirit of a brisk and lively health[1]. Let us run over, and examine all the different states of life, and we shall be forced to own, that there is not one of them all but what is subject to chagrin and sadness; and, consequently, that joy, or mirth, is most necessary to men. Which very probably the philosopher had in his head, when he defined man a risible animal. But be that as it will, one must certainly look upon that maxim which recommends mingling of pleasures with the affairs of life as a very wise one.

Sometimes with mirth and pleasure lard your cares[2].

We shall confirm this precept by a beautiful pa.s.sage out of Seneca, whose writings most certainly contain no loose morality, and which is as follows:-- "The soul must not be always bent: one must sometimes allow it a little pleasure. Socrates was not ashamed to pa.s.s the time with children. Cato enjoyed himself in drinking plentifully, when his mind had been too much wearied out in public affairs. Scipio knew very well how to move that body, so much inured to wars and triumphs, without breaking it, as some now-a-days do, with more than womanly pleasures; but as people did in past times, who would make themselves merry on their festivals, by leading a dance really worthy men of those days, whence could ensue no reproach, when even their very enemies had seen them dance. One must allow the mind some recreation: it makes it more gay and peaceful. And as it is not good too much to cultivate soil the most fertile, least, by yielding too large crops, it may soon run to decay and ruin: so in the same manner is the mind broken by a continued labour and application. Those who respite a little, regain their strength. a.s.siduity of labour begets a languor and bluntness of the mind: for sleep is very necessary to refresh us, and yet he that would do nothing else but sleep night and day, would be a dead man and no more. There is a great deal of difference between loosening a thing, and quite unravelling it. Those who made laws have inst.i.tuted holydays, to oblige people to appear at public rejoicings, in order to mingle with their cares a necessary temperament. There have been several very great men (as I have mentioned) who would set apart certain days of the month for that end; and some others, who had every day set hours for work, and other set hours for recreation. One must therefore allow the mind some recreation. One must allow it some repose and leisure, which may serve for new strength and nourishment. You must sometimes walk in the open air, that the mind may exalt itself by viewing the heavens, and breathing the air at your ease; sometimes take the air in your chariot, the roads and the change of the country will re-establish you in your vigour; or you may eat and drink a little more plentifully than usual.

Sometimes one must go even as far as to get drunk; not, indeed, with an intention to drown ourselves in wine, but to drown our cares. For wine drives away sorrow and care, and goes and fetches them up from the bottom of the soul. And as drunkenness cures some distempers, so, in like manner, it is a sovereign remedy for our sorrows[3]."

It must be confessed, indeed, that properly speaking, this pa.s.sage of Seneca is levelled only against too great a.s.siduity in labour and business; the application, however, is very just, in relation to chagrin, which causes in men's minds a far greater alteration than can be excited by the most rude labour either of mind or body.

The ancients had, besides this, another motive which induced them to make merry, and pa.s.s their time agreeably. They considered the short duration of their life, and for that reason endeavoured to make the best use of it they could. It will be no difficult matter for me to prove what I here advance.

Every one knows that the Egyptians made use of a very extraordinary custom in their festivals. They shewed to every guest a skeleton: this, according to some, was to make them think of death. Others again a.s.sure us, "That this strange figure was made use of to a quite contrary end; that this image of death was shewn for no other intent but to excite them to pa.s.s away their life merrily, and to employ the few days of its small duration to the best advantage; as having no other condition to expect after death, but that of this frightful skeleton[4]."

This last sentiment is, without doubt, most probable; for what likelihood is there that people would make reflections the most sad and serious, at a time when they proposed only to divert, and make themselves merry. This influence had the sight of a skull upon the mind of Trimalchion, who Petronius[5] tells us, thus expressed himself on that object:-- "Alas! alas! wretched that we are! what a nothing is poor man! we shall be all like this, when Fate shall have s.n.a.t.c.hed us hence.

Let us therefore rejoice, and be merry while we are here." The Latin is much stronger:--

Heu! heu! nos miseros! quam totus homuncio nil est, Sic erimus cuncti, postquam nos auferet orcus.

Ergo vivamus, dum licet esse, bene.

A little before he said almost the same thing. "Alas! wine therefore lives longer than man, let us then sit down and drink b.u.mpers; life and wine are the same thing." _Heu! heu! ergo diutius vivit vinum, quam homuncio. Quare Tangomenas faciamus, vita vinum est._ This puts me in mind of what Athenaeus[6] reports of an Egyptian, called Mycernius. This man having been told by the oracle that he had but a very short time to live, resolved to make the most of that short s.p.a.ce, and to that end did nothing but drink night and day.

This thought of an approaching death is not so importunate as is believed, since it is, says an[7] anonymous French author, a princ.i.p.al beauty of an ancient hymn of the poet Cecilius. "Let me be a.s.sured, says he, that I shall live six months, and I shall employ them so well, as to die the seventh without any regret in the world."

The same author goes on thus:-- "The moderns have not failed imitating the elegant flights of the fine wits of the ancient Greeks and Romans.

I find, especially, that the Italians come nearer to them; perhaps, because they are more proper than others to refine on pleasure. This is the character of the nation, of the truth of which I shall give no other proof than the last lines of an elegy, written by Samazarius, a Neapolitan gentleman." The sense of which in English runs thus.

Since vig'rous youth, all blooming, brisk, and gay, Excites our tender souls to sport and play, Let's taste ambrosial pleasures while we may.

Those joys to which our souls are most inclin'd, And suit the throbbing pa.s.sions of the mind.

Let's love while soft ecstatic fires engage, And shew us lovers on the world's great stage, Dull reason only suits with frightful age.

And see, she comes, for ever to destroy, For ever all our bliss, and all our joy.

Unwelcome age comes on with swiftest pace; Let's then prevent this wretched sad disgrace.

O may the terrors of approaching fate, Excite new fires, inspire fresh vig'rous heat; That love may sov'reign reign in ev'ry part, And drive unworthy weakness from our heart.

Thrice happy, if surpriz'd by death one day, Absorpt in sweetest bliss we die away.

But to return to my subject. We are told for certain, that the Scythians used to drink out of a skull; and probably they had the same design in doing so as the Egyptians had in looking on their skeletons. But leaving these objects, which cannot be very diverting, in what view soever one may consider them, let us come to the Romans. Gruter tells us in his Inscriptions[8], that they used to cry out at their feasts,

AMICI, DUM VIVIMUS, VIVAMUS.

That is, "Friends, while we live, let us be merry." For Raderus has evidently made it appear, by several examples out of Catullus, Cecilius, Varro, Anacreon, and other ancient authors, that _vivere_, or _to live_, signifies to make merry, to give one's self up to all kinds of pleasures, making good cheer, &c.

I know not whether the Gascogns, who p.r.o.nouncing the _V_ consonant like _B_, instead of VIVIS _et regnas in secula seculorum_, say (as I have been informed, how true it is I know not) BIBIS _et regnas in secula seculorum_, are of the same sentiment with Raderus in this point: but very probably that good honest German was, who in a kind of ecstasy over a bottle cry'd out,

O felices populi, quorum _vivere_ est _bibere_!

However, to prove this, as also at the same time to confirm what has been said above, in relation to the motives that induced people of old times to make merry, I shall instance some pa.s.sages of the ancients. But first let us not omit this inscription in Gruter[9], which is not much unlike the former.

VIVE, HOSPES, DUM LICET, ATQUE VALE.

"Be merry, landlord, and enjoy yourself while 'tis in your power, as for the rest, adieu."

Martial says somewhere, "Be merry to-day, depend not on to-morrow."

Sera nimis vita est crastina, vive hodie.

Catullus expresses much the same sentiments in these beautiful verses:--

"Vivamus -------- Rumoresq; senum severiorum, Omnes unius estimemus a.s.sis.

Soles occidere et redire possunt; n.o.bis c.u.m semel occidit brevis lux, Nox est perpetua una dormienda."[9a]