Hor. In a literal sense that is impossible, unless we go out of it; and therefore I do not think, that to renounce the world signifies any more, than not to comply with the vicious, wicked part of it.
Cleo. I did not expect a more rigid construction from you, though it is certain, that wealth and power are great snares, and strong impediments to all Christian virtue: but the generality of mankind, that have any thing to lose, are of your opinion; and let us bar saints and madmen, we shall find every where, that those who pretend to undervalue, and are always haranguing against wealth, are generally poor and indolent. But who can blame them? They act in their own defence; nobody that could help it would ever be laughed at; for it must be owned, that of all the hardships of poverty, it is that which is the most intolerable.
Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se,
Quam quod ridiculos homines faciat.——
In the very satisfaction that is enjoyed by those who excel in, or are possessed of things valuable, there is interwoven a spice of contempt for others, that are destitute of them, which nothing keeps from public view, but a mixture of pity and good manners. Whoever denies this, let them consult within, and examine whether it is not the same with happiness, as what Seneca says of the reverse, nemo est miser nisi comparatus. The contempt and ridicule I speak of, is, without doubt, what all men of sense and education endeavour to avoid or disappoint. Now, look upon the behaviour of the two contrary tempers before us, and mind how differently they set about this talk, every one suitably to his own inclination. The man of action, you see, leaves no stone unturned to acquire quod oportet habere: but this is impossible for the indolent; he cannot stir; his idol ties him down hand and foot; and, therefore, the easiest, and, indeed the only thing he has left, is to quarrel with the world, and find out arguments to depreciate what others value themselves upon.
Hor. I now plainly see, how pride and good sense must put an indolent man, that is poor, upon frugality; and likewise the reason, why they will make him affect to be content, and seem pleased with his low condition: for, if he will not be frugal, want and misery are at the door: and if he shows any fondness for riches, or a more ample way of living, he loses the only plea he has for his darling frailty, and immediately he will be asked, why he does not exert himself in a better manner? and he will be continually told of the opportunities he neglects.
Cleo. It is evident, then, that the true reasons, why men speak against things, are not always writ upon their foreheads.
Hor. But after all this quiet easy temper, this indolence you talk of, is it not what, in plain English, we call laziness?
Cleo. Not at all; it implies no sloth, or aversion to labour: an indolent man may be very diligent, though he cannot be industrious: he will take up with things below him, if they come in his way; he will work in a garret, or any where else, remote from public view, with patience and assiduity, but he knows not how to solicit and teaze others to employ him, or demand his due of a shuffling, designing master, that is either difficult of access, or tenacious of his money: if he be a man of letters, he will study hard for a livelihood, but generally parts with his labours at a disadvantage, and will knowingly sell them at an under-rate to an obscure man, who offers to purchase, rather than bear the insults of haughty booksellers, and be plagued with the sordid language of the trade. An indolent man may, by chance, meet with a person of quality, that takes a fancy to him; but he will never get a patron by his own address; neither will he ever be the better for it, when he has one, further than the unasked-for bounty, and downright generosity of his benefactor make him. As he speaks for himself with reluctancy, and is always afraid of asking favours, so, for benefits received, he shows no other gratitude, than what the natural emotions of his heart suggest to him. The striving, active man studies all the winning ways to ingratiate himself, and hunts after patrons with design and sagacity: whilst they are beneficial to him; he affects a perpetual sense of thankfulness; but all his acknowledgments of past obligations, he turns into solicitations for fresh favours: his complaisance may be engaging, and his flattery ingenious, but the heart is untouched: he has neither leisure, nor the power to love his benefactors: the eldest he has, he will always sacrifice to a new one; and he has no other esteem for the fortune, the greatness, or the credit of a patron, than as he can make them subservient either to raise or maintain his own. From all this, and a little attention on human affairs, we may easily perceive, in the first place, that the man of action, and an enterprising temper, in following the dictates of his nature, must meet with more rubs and obstacles infinitely, than the indolent, and a multitude of strong temptations, to deviate from the rules of strict virtue, which hardly ever come in the other’s way; that, in many circumstances, he will be forced to commit such actions, for which, all his skill and prudence notwithstanding, he will, by some body or other, deservedly be thought to be an ill man; and that to end with a tolerable reputation, after a long course of life, he must have had a great deal of good fortune, as well as cunning. Secondly, that the indolent man may indulge his inclinations, and be as sensual as his circumstances may let him, with little offence or disturbance to his neighbour; that the excessive value he sets upon the tranquillity of his mind, and the grand aversion he has to part with it, must prove a strong curb to every passion, that comes uppermost; none of which, by this means, can ever affect him in any high degree, and consequently, that the corruption of his heart remaining, he may, with little art and no great trouble, acquire many valuable qualities, that shall have all the appearances of social virtues, whilst nothing extraordinary befals him. As to his contempt of the world, the indolent man perhaps will scorn to make his court, and cringe to a haughty favourite, that will browbeat him at first; but he will run with joy to a rich nobleman, that he is sure will receive him with kindness and humanity: With him he will partake, without reluctancy, of all the elegant comforts of life that are offered, the most expensive not excepted. Would you try him further, confer upon him honour and wealth in abundance. If this change in his fortune stirs up no vice that lay dormant before, as it may by rendering him either covetous or extravagant, he will soon conform himself to the fashionable world: Perhaps he will be a kind master, an indulgent father, a benevolent neighbour, munificent to merit that pleases him, a patron to virtue, and a wellwisher to his country; but for the rest, he will take all the pleasure he is capable of enjoying; stifle no passion he can calmly gratify, and, in the midst of a luxuriant plenty, laugh heartily at frugality, and the contempt of riches and greatness he professed in his poverty; and cheerfully own the futility of those pretences.
Hor. I am convinced, that, in the opinion of virtue’s requiring self-denial, there is greater certainty, and hypocrites have less latitude than in the contrary system.