The Fable of the Bees; Or, Private Vices, Public Benefits

by Bernard Mandeville

Hor. Ridiculous.

Cleo. If neither of these are affected with it, then honour should be either adventitious, and acquired by culture; or, if contained in the blood of those that are nobly born, imperceptible until the years of discretion; and neither of them can be said of the principle, the palpable cause I speak of. For we plainly see on the one hand, that scorn and ridicule are intolerable to the poorest wretches, and that there is no beggar so mean or miserable, that contempt will never offend him: on the other, that human creatures are so early influenced by the sense of shame; that children, by being laughed at and made a jest of, may be set a crying before they can well speak or go. Whatever, therefore, this mighty principle is, it is born with us, and belongs to our nature: are you unacquainted with the proper, genuine, homely name of it?

Hor. I know you call it pride. I will not dispute with you about principles and origins of things; but that high value which men of honour set upon themselves as such, and which is no more than what is due to the dignity of our nature, when well cultivated, is the foundation of their character, and a support to them in all difficulties, that is of great use to the society. The desire, likewise, of being thought well of, and the love of praise and even of glory are commendable qualities, that are beneficial to the public. The truth of this is manifest in the reverse; all shameless people that are below infamy, and matter not what is said or thought of them, these, we see nobody can trust; they stick at nothing, and if they can but avoid death, pain, and penal laws, are always ready to execute all manner of mischief, their selfishness or any brutal appetite shall prompt them to, without regard to the opinion of others: such are justly called men of no principles, because they have nothing of any strength within, that can either spur them on to brave and virtuous actions, or restrain them from villany and baseness.

Cleo. The first part of your assertion is very true, when that high value, that desire, and that love are kept within the bounds of reason: But, in the second, there is a mistake; those whom we call shameless, are not more destitute of pride, than their betters. Remember what I have said of education, and the power of it; you may add inclinations, knowledge, and circumstances; for, as men differ in all these, so they are differently influenced and wrought upon by all the passions. There is nothing that some men may not be taught to be ashamed of. The same passion that makes the well-bred man, and prudent officer, value and secretly admire themselves for the honour and fidelity they display, may make the rake and scoundrel brag of their vices, and boast of their impudence.

Hor. I cannot comprehend, how a man of honour, and one that has none, should both act from the same principle.

Cleo. This is not more strange, than that self-love may make a man destroy himself, yet nothing is more true; and it is as certain, that some men indulge their pride in being shameless. To understand human nature, requires study and application, as well as penetration and sagacity. All passions and instincts in general, were given to all animals for some wise end, tending to the preservation and happiness of themselves, or their species: It is our duty to hinder them from being detrimental or offensive to any part of the society; but why should we be ashamed of having them? The instinct of high value, which every individual has for himself, is a very useful passion: but a passion it is, and though I could demonstrate, that we should be miserable creatures without it, yet, when it is excessive, it often is the cause of endless mischiefs.

Hor. But in well-bred people it never is excessive.

Cleo. You mean the excess of it never appears outwardly: But we ought never to judge of its height or strength from what we can discover of the passion itself, but from the effects it produces: It often is most superlative, where it is most concealed; and nothing increases and influences it more, than what is called a refined education, and a continual commerce with the beau monde: The only thing that can subdue, or any ways curb it, is a strict adherence to the Christian religion.

Hor. Why do you so much insist upon it, that this principle, this value men set upon themselves, is a passion? And why will you choose to call it pride rather than honour?

Cleo. For very good reasons. Fixing this principle in human nature, in the first place, takes away all ambiguity: Who is a man of honour, and who is not, is often a disputable point; and, among those that are allowed to be such, the several degrees of strictness, in complying with the rules of it, make great difference in the principle itself. But a passion that is born with us is unalterable, and part of our frame, whether it exerts itself or not: The essence of it is the same, which way soever it is taught to turn. Honour is the undoubted offspring of pride, but the same cause produces not always the same effect. All the vulgar, children, savages, and many others that are not affected with any sense of honour, have all of them pride, as is evident from the symptoms. Secondly, it helps us to explain the phenomena that occur in quarrels and affronts, and the behaviour of men of honour on these occasions, which cannot be accounted for any other way. But what moves me to it most of all, is the prodigious force and exorbitant power of this principle of self esteem, where it has been long gratified and encouraged. You remember the concern you was under, when you had that duel upon your hands, and the great reluctancy you felt in doing what you did; you knew it to be a crime, and, at the same time, had a strong aversion to it; what secret power was it that subdued your will, and gained the victory over that great reluctancy you felt against it? You call it honour, and the too strict, though unavoidable adherence to the rules of it: But men never commit violence upon themselves, but in struggling with the passions that are innate and natural to them. Honour is acquired, and the rules of it are taught: Nothing adventitious, that some are possessed, and others destitute of, could raise such intestine wars and dire commotions within us; and therefore, whatever is the cause that can thus divide us against ourselves, and, as it were, rend human nature in twain, must be part of us; and, to speak without disguise, the struggle in your breast was between the fear of shame and the fear of death: had this latter not been so considerable, your struggle would have been less: Still the first conquered, because it was strongest; but if your fear of shame had been inferior to that of death, you would have reasoned otherwise, and found out some means or other to have avoided fighting.