ON THE IMPUNITY OF LYING.
SECT. I.
I. Two common errors present themselves to me with respect to the subject-matter of this discourse, the one theoretical, the other practical. The theoretical is derived from lying among men being reputed as infamous, or as a vice nearly bordering upon infamy. Let us admit, for argument’s sake, the divisions the theologians make of a lie, into officious, jocose, and pernicious. Let us admit also, that a pernicious lie is reputed in the common opinion as it deserves to be reputed, and that it is treated with all possible abhorrence, so that those who are noted for telling lies to the prejudice of their neighbours, are generally considered as the pests of society; but notwithstanding all this, my remarks will be principally confined to officious and jocose lies; that is, to such as are not intended to injure a third person, but are only told to entertain, or because they may be of some utility to a man’s self, or to some other person. I must also premise, that I mean to treat this point more as a politician, than as a moral theologian. The theologians estimate officious, and jocose lies, as venal sins; nor should I or any one else in a moral light, represent them blacker. But if viewed in a political light, my sentiment is, that the common opinion is excessively favourable and indulgent to this species of vice.
II. And what is the reason of this excessive indulgence? Why the reason is, because this sort of lie is not considered as an affront offered to any man. The being noted for an officious or jocose liar, does not take from any man the honour, which in other respects is thought due to him. A gentleman, let him tell as many of these sort of lies as he will, is still looked upon as a gentleman; a nobleman also, notwithstanding his being remarked for this vice, is considered as a nobleman, and a prince as a prince. But this appears to me repugnant to all reason. Lying is infamous, bad, and vile; and a liar is unworthy of human society; he is an impostor, who traiterously avails himself of the good faith of other men, in order to deceive them. The most precious intercourse among men, is that of a frank and reciprocal communication of their souls; with which, they in conversation lay open and disclose to each other, the affections of their wills, the sentiments of their mind, and all that is treasured up in their memories. Now what is a liar, but a solemn circumventor of this inestimable commerce? what, but a deceiver, who imposes on us delusions for realities? what but a circulator of false money, who passes the iron of a lie for the gold of truth? and finally, what can there be found in this man, that should excuse him from being discarded and rejected by all others, as a nuisance to company, a vile contaminator of conversation, and as a detestable falsifier of all intelligence and information?
SECT. II.
III. I cannot help remarking a monstrous contradiction, that is very frequent in this matter. If a man of any rank or figure in the world, is told to his face that he lies, he considers himself as very seriously injured, and according to the cruel laws of human honour, is esteemed as having put up with a very gross affront, if he does not demand of the man who told him so, a very sanguinary satisfaction; but I would be glad to know, how telling a man he lies, can be a very serious injury, if lying is not esteemed a very serious defect in him who is addicted to it; or how a man can be considered as affronted, because he is told he lies, if the action of lying is not scandalous or unworthy. The degree of reproach annexed to a vice, is generally estimated according to the light in which that vice is considered by the world at large. If the vice is not held to be such a one, as tarnishes a man’s honour, his honour will not be deemed wounded by the commission of it; and it may be said of a man in such a case, that his honour is not injured. This being a notorious fact, the inference I would draw from the before-mentioned observation, is, that the frequency of lying, lessens in the generality of mankind, the abhorrence, which natural reason left to itself, has of this vice; but notwithstanding this custom, it has not diminished so thoroughly, but that there still remains in the soul of man, a clear conviction, that lying is a baseness.
IV. I am confirmed in this opinion, by the observation, that a man’s denying what he has said, is looked upon as an opprobrium to him. And why is this? why because it amounts to a confession that he had before told a lie. The opprobrium cannot lie in the truth of what he now confesses; and therefore must consist in the lie which he told before. Confessing that he has lied, is a mark of sincerity, and no one need blush for having been sincere; therefore all the ignominy must be annexed to the lie. This, I say, makes it manifest to me, that their native sentiment of this matter is not so obscured in mankind, but that it represents a lie to them as a most unworthy and a vile thing.
SECT. III.
V. The practical error in this matter, is derived from a lie’s going unpunished, and from the laws not having prescribed any punishment for liars. Why is there no bridle to curb the propensity men have to deceive one another? and why should a man be allowed to lie to what amount he pleases at free cost? Although men are not contented with enjoying a total indemnity in this case, but frequently glory in what they have done, and go on to insult those they have imposed on, and to treat the sincerity of other men as imprudence; is not this an abominable offence, and such a one as deserves to be punished?
VI. I may be told, that human laws do not attend to deterring by the fear of punishment, people from committing any other crimes, except such as are prejudicial to the public, or injurious to a third person; and that officious or jocose lies, which are those we are discoursing of at present, hurt no body, for if they had been found to be injurious, they would before this, have been classed among, and deemed as pernicious offences.
VII. Against this remark, solid as it may appear, I have two very notable replies to make. The first is, that although every officious or jocose lie considered by itself, is injurious to nobody; still, the frequency and impunity with which they are told, have a pernicious effect on the public; for they deprive the generality of mankind of a very valuable benefit. To make my meaning more clearly understood, I must beg every man to contemplate the inconveniencies that would arise from a doubt or distrust, whether whatever is told us be true or false; which distrust is unavoidable, and founded on prudence, if we advert to the frequency with which people lie. Upon hearing any piece of intelligence, in which our wishes, or our conveniencies are interested, we remain in a state of perplexity, whether to believe or disbelieve it; and this perplexity is generally attended with a very disagreeable agitation of the mind, that sets a man at variance as it were with himself, and causes him to halt between two opinions, and to remain in a disagreeable state of suspence, whether to reject as false, or assent to the intelligence he hears as true. Those to whom the rumour that is propagated may be serviceable, either with regard to their communicating it, or on account of the use it may be of to illustrate any thing they have been writing, and are about to publish, are set on the tenters by reason of this uncertainty. They would give any thing to ascertain the reality of a curious event, that was applicable to, and would tend to embellish the subject they had been writing upon, but cannot take a step towards informing themselves, without meeting with a stumbling block in their way. Some affirm the truth of the thing, others deny it; here they tell the story in one way, and there they relate it in another; and all this while, the pen of the author is obliged to stand still, and to continue for a long time in a disagreeable and violent state of suspence.
VIII. But although the perplexity that may attend our doubting whether we shall give our assent to what we hear, may be productive of these evils, the mischief that would result from our giving easy faith and credit to all we are told, would be much greater; for if we reflect, we shall find, that the altercations, disputes, and disturbances which arise in conversation, are produced for the most part by easy credulity. Different people, hear different accounts of the same thing, and because each believed what he heard; they afterwards altercate furiously, each persisting, that the account he had heard of the matter was the true one. Reflect how many people have made themselves ridiculous, by believing what they should have rejected as fabulous. Reflect also, that human society, which is the sweetest boon of life, or which would be so if mankind were to behave to each other with truth and candour, is made ungrateful and disgusting at every turn, by the distrust which is occasioned, in consequence of our experiencing how much people are addicted to lie.
IX. In order to comprehend how great a good we are deprived of by this distrust, let us figure to ourselves a republic, although I fear there never was such a one in the world, where either from the generous influence of their soil and climate, men were more noble-minded; or from the fear of a lie being punished with great severity, all the individuals who compose it, were strict observers of the truth; I say admitting this, my imagination represents to me, that such a community would be a sort of Heaven upon earth. What brotherly love would there prevail in it! and how sweet and savoury would the confidence between man and man be, and how grateful the satisfaction, with which they talked and listened to each other, free from the suspicion of not being believed, or the fear of being deceived! There we should survey at every step, the most pleasing spectacle the world can afford, that of a man’s opening the whole theatre of his soul to another. I do not think that Heaven adorned with all its splendor, or the spring embellished with all its flowers, could furnish a more delightful picture to the eyes of man, than that which would be presented to human curiosity, by the exposure of a variety of sentiments, affections, and passions, of those with whom we converse. In such a society, all men would enjoy a peaceable tranquillity of mind, without the dread, that by means of political arts, a traitor should impose himself upon them for a friend; that hypocrisy should usurp an unjust veneration; that applause should be tainted with the venom of flattery; that advice should be insincere, and calculated to promote the interest of him who gave it; or that correction should be the child of anger, and not the offspring of zeal. But unhappy for us, how distant are we from enjoying the blessings of such happy citizens! for we scarce are allowed an instant of relaxation, from the fears, inquietudes, and suspicions, that continually afflict us, and which are produced, by the experience we have, of the little sincerity there is to be met with in the world. Consider now, whether the frequency of lying, does not rob us of a great blessing, or to speak more properly, of many inestimable blessings.
SECT. IV.
X. The second reply I have to make to the before-named observation, is, that it very frequently happens, that those lies which are only looked upon as officious and jocose, are attended with pernicious consequences. What does it signify, that he who tells a lie did not do it with an intention to injure any one, if in reality the mischief follows? The emperor Theodosius the second, presented the empress Eudoxia with an apple of uncommon magnitude; and she afterwards gave it to Paulinus a learned and discreet man, whose conversation she was very fond of, and with whom, her correspondence was perfectly innocent. Paulinus, ignorant of the hand by which the apple was brought to the Empress, shewed it to the Emperor, and begged him to accept of it; the Emperor, recollecting that it was the same apple he had given the Empress, took an occasion to ask Eudoxia by surprize, what she had done with the apple? The question coming upon her unawares, and she, apprehensive the Emperor might be displeased with her for parting with the apple, answered she had eaten it. This, in the intention of Eudoxia, was a lie purely officious; but was attended with a most pernicious consequence, as it was the occasion of Paulinus being put to death; for Theodosius, suspecting the commerce between him and the Empress not to be very chaste, ordered him to be dispatched.
XI. Caligula having recalled from banishment, one who had been sentenced to that punishment by his predecessor, asked him how he employed his time while he was banished; and he, to recommend himself to the good graces of the Emperor, answered, that he employed the greatest part of it in praying to the gods for the death of Tiberius; because that would make way for his ascending the throne. What lie to all appearance could be more innocent than this? Yet in its consequences, it was very pernicious, for Caligula, taking it into his head, that those he had banished would occupy themselves in the same way, ordered them all to be put to death.
XII. I could give more examples of the same sort; but am aware, that it may be said in answer to them, that these are unforeseen accidents; but they notwithstanding, are the evil accidental consequences of lies, which although the person who tells them cannot foresee, are not unworthy the attention of the legislature; and of their taking measures to prevent the mischiefs arising from them, by assigning some species of punishment to all kinds of lies whatever. At least, the motive of preventing these accidental mischiefs, should operate jointly with the reasons we have already given, to induce the legislature, to fall upon some mode of punishment to curb the vice of lying.
SECT. V.
XIII. But the principal mischiefs that are produced by lies, which are called jocose and officious, do not only happen by accident, but such lies have in their own nature, a tendency to bring on those mischiefs. Of this sort are all flattering lies. Of the many apophthegms we meet with, that have been severe upon liars, there is no one seems to me to be better pointed, than that of Bion one of the seven wise men of Greece. He being one day asked, what animal he esteemed the most pernicious? answered, that to the world at large it was a tyrant, and in private life, a flatterer. For so it is, that flattery always, or nearly always, is pernicious to the person to whom it is addressed. The same man, who if the incense of unmerited applause was not offered to him, would be gentle, prudent, and modest, would by the application of it, be corrupted to such a degree, as to become proud, fierce, intolerable, and ridiculous. It is not one man only, that a flattering lie may be the undoing of, but it is also capable of ruining a whole kingdom; and this is a fatality that has often happened. Many princes, who have had a portion of the taint of ambition in their compositions, if there had not been those about them, who fomented this evil tendency of their minds, would have led happy and peaceable lives, but upon being persuaded by a flatterer, that their greatest glory consisted in adding new dominions to their crown, have become bloody scourges, both to their own subjects, and those of their neighbours.
XIV. The great Louis the Fourteenth, was without doubt, endued with excellent qualities; and was blessed with a sufficient understanding, to distinguish in what the most solid glory of a king consisted, and to be convinced, that it consisted in making his subjects happy. Notwithstanding which, through the whole of his dominions, the bulk of his people were oppressed, and groaned under the intolerable weight of the taxes, he found it necessary to load on them, in order to support the vast expences of the many wars he engaged in; to which grievance, might be added the lamentation and grief that was produced, by the loss of the infinite quantity of French blood that had deluged the fields in his quarrels. From whence did all this mischief proceed? Why from the venomous influence of poisonous flatterers, who persuaded him, that his greatest glory consisted in extending his dominions by his arms, and in making himself dreaded by all the neighbouring powers. They not only persuaded him to this, but even intimated to him, that these were the most effectual means, to render his own kingdom happy and flourishing. A flattering poet carried his servile complaisance so far, as to sing in his ear, that by pursuing this conduct, he would not only make his own people happy, but would make those so likewise, whom he conquered; and that they would hug the chains, with which he bound the little liberty they ever possessed; and what was beyond all the rest, this fulsome poet, went so far as to assert, that his desire of making them happy, was his only motive for bringing them under his yoke.
In the idea of this poet, desolating his own country by excessive contributions, carrying fire and sword into the territories of his neighbours, and sacrificing men by tens of thousands on the altars of Mars, is the most effectual way to make people happy; and that it is the great glory of a monarch, to be the pest of his own dominions, and those of all his neighbours. To these extravagant lengths has flattery been carried, and such are the unhappy effects it has produced.
XV. A flattering lie in private life, is not capable of doing so much mischief, if we consider it as standing by itself; but the mischief is infinitely extensive, that results from many of those lies put together; as the use of them is so general, that their numbers are nearly infinite. A learned modern French author, says, that the practice of the world, is made up of people’s occupying themselves continually in circulating false complaisance. Mankind depend reciprocally upon each other; and the poor man not only flatters the rich one, but the rich one flatters the poor one in his turn. The poor man courts the rich one, because he has need of his contributions; and the rich one endeavours to conciliate himself with the poor man, because he cannot subsist without the aid of his labour. The money they all go to market with, to gain and purchase the hearts of each other, is coined from the bullion of flattery; which is the falsest money that can be circulated, because in consequence of trafficking with it in this vile commerce, all sides are cheated.
SECT. VI.
XVI. But besides flattering lies, there are many others which are hurtful in various ways, notwithstanding we find them classed among the jocose and officious ones. A coward brags of his prowess, and martial deeds; a stander-by who hears him, and believes what he says, endeavours to make a friend of him, in hopes that he will bear him out in any fray or quarrel in which he should happen to be engaged; and in consequence of the confidence he puts in this support, he precipitates himself into some dispute, where his bravo deserts him, and he loses his life. An ignorant fellow, palms himself upon simple people for a learned man, and they, by believing all he says to be right and true, get their heads filled with extravagances, which they afterwards by venting in other companies, expose their folly, and so by a very easy and short method, acquire the reputation of blockheads.
A neglected or disappointed man, brags of the interest he has with a great person; and some who hear and believe what he says, fancy he will be a good channel through which they may convey an application to that great person, and induce him to assist them in a matter they have much at heart, and in which they are deeply interested, and in hopes of the great benefits they may derive from his friendship and aid, pay great court to him, and waste the greatest part of their substance in presents and bribes to him. A spiritual puffer, brags of the miracles he has seen and experienced of such and such a saint; which one way or other, is generally attended with prejudicial consequences to the cause of religion. The physician brags of a skill or knowledge he does not possess; a valetudinary person who hears him, believing him to be an Esculapius, surrenders himself without further enquiry to his management, and becomes a voluntary victim. A young mariner, brags of his great abilities and skill in navigating and conducting a ship, which afterwards being trusted to him, is shipwrecked and dashed to pieces, on some rock or shoal. The same dangers, in a greater or a less degree, and in proportion to the matters that are confided to their management, are we exposed to, by trusting vaunters in all arts and professions, who although they are unskilful, presume to boast of their great knowledge. I should never have done, was I to set about enumerating all the species of lies, which go under the name of jocose and officious, and which are attended with pernicious consequences.
SECT. VII.
XVII. But I cannot avoid making particular mention, of a certain species of lies, which find ample protection with, and pass current through the world, as if they were perfectly innocent; when in reality, they are extremely injurious to the public. I mean judicial lies; such, as when in stating a fact which gave rise to, or is the subject matter of a litigation, the parties interested, and those employed in the suit, disguise and disfigure it, to make it appear more favourable to their own side. This species of deceit, or as I may say lie, is so frequent, that we scarce see a cause in which it is not practised, and in which, both parties agree in the state of the facts, on which the matter in issue rests; and from hence arise the length of the pleadings, and the principal delay, and great expence of law-suits. Who can entertain a doubt, but that this is very injurious to the public? Yet there is nobody will attempt finding out a remedy for the evil. It might perhaps be asked, what remedy can be applied to it; but to this I should answer, the remedy that is made use of in Japan. Among those islanders, whose political government there is no doubt excells ours in many particulars, they punish a judicial lie, or one advanced in a legal process, with great severity; and the Algerines do the same. Whoever lies, or when he is brought before the Bey, or any of his judicial magistrates, to answer to a civil process, shall deny, if the prosecution is for a debt, that he owes the person suing for it the money in question, or if the prosecutor shall be found guilty of making a false or unjust demand, in either of these cases, he who shall be found to falsify, is adjudged to a rigorous bastinadoing. Thus these causes are speedily and safely determined, nor is there the least necessity for any writing in them, for the fear of that severe punishment, deters any man from demanding what is not due to him, and terrifies any one from denying a just debt. If something like this method was to be adopted among us, law-suits of this sort in Spain, would be as short as they are in those places. What delays law-suits, is not so much the difficulty of finding out what the law is with respect to the matter in question; but such delays arise for the most part, from fallacious suggestions, and evasive statings of facts. If the suitors, and all the parties concerned or employed in a cause, knew, that for every fallacy they advanced, they were to pay a large fine, they would be careful not to suggest or advance any thing, that was not simply and exactly true. By this means, the parties would soon be agreed as to the fact, and a determination would quickly be made in favour of the person who had the right of his side, and there would be nothing left to do, but for process to issue agreeable to the ordinary forms of law, in order to enforce and compleat the judgment. The doing of this, is seldom attended with much expence or delay; and by adopting the before-mentioned method of proceeding, there would soon be a stop put to all law-suits, that are founded on false or sinister suggestions; and people would not be near so exposed to have vexatious and roguish prosecutions commenced against them, as they are at present. The state or public at large, would be great gainers by such a regulation taking place, as the loss occasioned by the attendance, that many artificers, and people employed in useful branches of trade are obliged to give on courts of law would be avoided. So that the whole loss that would be incurred by adopting this method, would fall on the advocates, solicitors, and other men of the law; but this would be amply compensated for to the state, by the increase it would occasion of professors in useful arts.
XVIII. It is true, that our laws in Spain have not been so deficient in this respect, as not to have assigned certain punishments in various cases to judicial lies. One of those which is to be found among the laws which we term the laws de Partida seems to me admirably calculated to suppress this evil. It runs thus: He of whom any thing is demanded judicially by another person, as his property, who shall deny the person making the demand was ever possessed of it, shall, if it is afterwards proved that the person who makes the demand was possessed of it, be obliged to surrender it to him who demands it, although the demander should not be able to prove the thing ever was his property. But I could wish in the first place, that both this law, and all others of the same sort, should be extended to more cases than they take in, or to speak more properly, to all cases whatever; so that every judicial lie should be liable to a punishment, proportioned to the mischief it might be attended with. I would wish secondly, that some lawyers in expounding those laws, had given a larger extent to them, and not have limited the operation of them but to few cases; for we have reason to apprehend, that it is in consequence of these expositions, that we very rarely or never, have seen any one punished for this offence, at least I do not remember to have ever known, or to have ever heard of any one that was punished for it. The greatest part of the Judges, although there may appear but little reason for their acting with lenity, are apt to lean to the compassionate side; but it seems to me, that it would be for the good of the public, if upon these occasions, they would exercise a proper degree of severity.
SECT. VIII.
XIX. Finally, by contemplating a lie in all its extent, I find it so inconvenient to the life of man, that I am disposed to think the whole rigour of the laws should be levelled against it, and that it should be treated as a most pestiferous enemy to human society. Zoroaster the famous legislator of the Persians, or Zerduscht, which according to the learned Thomas Hyde was his name, in which sentiment Thomas Stanley differs but little from him, he writing it Zaraduissit; from all which we may conclude, that the changing his name to Zoroaster, was an alteration made by the Greeks to make it correspond the better with their own language; but to have done with criticising upon his name, he in the statutes he formed for the government of that nation, estimated a lie, as one of the most serious crimes a man could commit. I must confess; that he erred in this as a Theologian; but that he was quite right, and acted wisely as a politician; because no better means can be fallen upon, to make men live happy in society, than that of introducing among them, an utter abhorrence of a lie; and on the other hand, if the great propensity in man to lying is not curbed, although the rest of the laws should be ever so pious and just, they will not be able to prevent innumerable mischiefs and disorders.
SECT. IX.
XX. It is only in one particular instance, that I look upon lying to be sufferable; and that is, when there is no fence to resist the impertinent and officious enquiries of people into secrets, that are trusted to a man in confidence. I state the case thus: a friend of mine, for the sake of asking my advice, informs me in confidence of a crime that he has committed. A person in power suspects him to be the man who committed the crime, and by making an improper use of his authority, demands of me, whether I do not know that such a person committed such a crime. I will suppose for argument’s sake, that he is a person of such penetration, that I could not deceive him by evasions, and giving answers, that amounted to my neither owning nor denying that I knew any thing of it; and that my not giving a positive answer, would only tend to confirm him in the opinion that my friend had actually committed the crime he suspected him of; so that I am drove to the necessity of answering positively, yes, or no. It is certain in such a case, that I am bound by the laws of friendship, fidelity, charity and justice, not to reveal the secret confided to me. How then am I to act in such a pressing exigency?
XXI. After stating a variety of different opinions of Theologians, and other eminent men upon cases of this sort, which I shall omit to insert, as I apprehend they would rather seem tedious, than afford either entertainment or instruction to the reader; Father Feyjoo proceeds thus: But I do not chuse to take any part in this question, as it would require more time to discuss, than I at present have leisure to bestow upon it; and therefore shall waive entering into it, and returning to the subject of my discourse, shall say, that admitting a man, upon being unfairly pressed, cannot avoid disclosing a secret which has been confided to him, without telling a lie, those lies ought to be tolerated by human society, and the punishment of them should be left to God alone, for that a republic or state is exposed to no inconvenience from them; and that on the contrary, daily mischiefs might result to it, by not preventing the evil effects, of the malicious, and vicious curiosity of men, who are impertinently fond of prying into other people’s secrets. And he who makes these enquiries, should blame himself for any imposition or deceit that happens in consequence of them, and not the person who told the lie, for the inquisitor is the aggressor in this case, as he may be termed an invader of other people’s secrets, which he had improperly, and without any right so to do, taken upon him officiously to pry into.
ON
THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY,
AND
National Prejudice or Prepossession.
SECT. I.
I. I Seek in men that love of their country, which I find so much celebrated in books, but I do not meet with it; I mean that just, noble and virtuous love, which they owe to their country. In some, I see no kind of affection for their country at all; in others, I perceive only a criminal affection, which is vulgarly called national prejudice.
II. I do not deny, that by turning over history, you will find thousands of victims sacrificed to this idol. What war is undertaken without this specious pretence? What field do we see drenched with human blood, that posterity, over the carcases from whence it flowed, has not fixed the honourable inscription, that those men lost their lives for the good of their country? But if we examine things critically, we shall find the world is much mistaken, in thinking there have been so many, or so refined sacrifices made to this imaginary deity. Let us figure to ourselves a republic, armed for a war, undertaken on the principle of a just defence; and let us also proceed to examine by the light of reason, the impulse which animates men’s hearts to expose their lives in the quarrel. Among the private men, some inlist for the pay and the plunder, others with the hopes of bettering their fortunes, and acquiring military honour and preferment; but the greatest part, from motives of obedience, and fear of the Prince or the General. He who commands the army, is instigated by his interest and his glory. The Prince, or Chief Magistrate, who is at a distance from the danger, acts more for the sake of maintaining his dominion, than for supporting the republic. Now admitting that all these people should find it more for their interest to retire to their houses, than to defend the walls, you would hardly see ten men left on the ramparts.
III. Even those feats of prowess of the antients, which are so blazoned and immortalized by fame, as the ultimate exertions of zeal for the public good, were more probably generated by ambition, and the love of glory, than by the love of their country; and I am inclined to think, that if there had not been witnesses present, to have handed down to posterity an account of their exploits, that from a principle of love to his country, neither Curtius would have precipitated himself into the pit, nor Marcus Attilius Regulus have submitted to die a lingering death in an iron cage; nor would the twin brothers, for the sake of extending the boundaries of Carthage, have consented to be buried alive. The incitement of posthumous fame had great influence among the Gentiles; and it might also happen, that some rushed on a violent death, not so much with a view of acquiring posthumous fame, as from the mad vanity of seeing themselves admired and applauded for a few instants of their lives, of which Lucian gives us a striking example, in the death that was submitted to by the philosopher Peregrinus.
IV. Among the Romans, the love of their country, was so much in vogue and so prevalent, that it seemed as if this noble inclination was the soul of their whole republic. But what appears to me is, that the Romans themselves, on account of Cato’s constant and steady attachment to the public, looked upon him as a very uncommon man, and as one descended from Heaven. It may be said of all the rest of them, almost without exception, that in serving their country, they sought more their own exaltation than the public utility. They gave Cicero the glorious surname of father of his country, for the successful and vigorous opposition he made to Catiline’s conspiracy. This in appearance was a great merit, although in reality it was but an equivocal one; for not only the success of Cicero’s attaining the consulate, depended upon that fury’s not carrying his point, but his life also; for it is true, that when afterwards Cæsar tyrannized over the republic, Cicero accommodated himself very well with him. The subornations of Jugurtha, King of Numidia, shewed abundantly, what sort of spirit influenced the Roman senate; which, contrary to the interest of the republic, tolerated in that penetrating and violent Prince, many grave and pernicious evils, because every new insolence he committed, was accompanied with a new present to the senators. He was at last brought to Rome, and detained there; and although he was so far from correcting or reforming his old practices, that within the city itself, he committed new and enormous offences; by the favour of gold, he was permitted to go at large, which in the delinquent himself begot such a contempt of that government, that when he left Rome, after getting at a little distance from the city, he turned about, and looking at it with disdain, called it a venal city, adding, that it would soon perish, if any one could find money enough to pay the price of its ruin: Urbem venalem, et mature perituram, si emptorem invenirit (Sallust in Jugurtha). The same thing, and even more pointedly, was said by Petronius:
This is a picture of the love of their country so celebrated among the Romans, and to which many at this day, judge they owed the enormous extension of the Roman empire.
SECT. II.
V. Our opinion of this matter differs greatly from that of the bulk of mankind, by whom it is generally believed, the love of their country is natural to, and transcendent in all men; and as a proof of it, they alledge the repugnance, which all, or nearly all men feel at abandoning the country in which they were born, to go and reside in any other whatever; but I find here a great equivocation, and that what men call the love of their country, is in reality, nothing else but the love of their own convenience. There is no man who does not leave his own country cheerfully, when he has expectations by going to another of mending his fortune; and examples of this sort are seen every day. Of all the fables that have been fabricated by the poets, there is no one appears to be more void of probability, than that of Ulysses’s having preferred the dreary and unpleasant rocks and craigs of his own country Ithaca, to the immortality full of delights, which was offered him by the nymph Calipso, upon condition that he would come and live with her in the island of Ogygia.
VI. I may be told, that the Scythians, as Ovid testifies, fled from the delicacies of Rome, to the asperities of their own frozen soil; that the Laplanders, maugre all the conveniences and accommodations that were offered them at Vienna, sighed to return to their own poor steril country; and that but a few years ago, a Canadian savage who was brought to Paris, where he was furnished with every possible convenience, lived there in a seeming state of affliction and melancholy.
VII. I say in answer to all this, that it is true; but it is also true, that these men live with more convenience to themselves in Scythia, in Lapland, and in Canada, than in Vienna, at Paris, or in Rome. Habituated to the food of their country, however hard and coarse it may appear to us, they find it both grateful and salutary. They are born among snow, and live pleasantly in the midst of it; and as we cannot bear the cold of northern regions, they cannot endure the heat of southern ones. Their mode of government, is suited to their tempers and dispositions, and although the form is but indifferent, they being reconciled to it by custom, believe that nature itself never dictated any other. Our policy seems as barbarous to them, as theirs does to us. Here, we think it impossible to live without a house or permanent abode; they look upon this as a voluntary imprisonment, and regard it as much more convenient, to be at liberty to change their habitation, when, and unto wherever it is most agreeable to them, fabricating it in the evening, for the use of the night and the next day, either in the valley, on the side of the mountain, or in the plain. The accommodation afforded by changing situations as the seasons of the year vary, is enjoyed among us, by none but the great and the opulent; among those barbarians, there is no one who does not enjoy it; and I must confess for myself, that I look upon a man’s having power, whenever he pleases, to remove from a disagreeable neighbourhood, and settle himself in one he likes better, as a very enviable happiness.
VIII. Olaus Rudbec, a noble Swede, who had travelled a great deal through the northern regions, in a book that he wrote, intitled Lapland Illustrated, says, that the inhabitants of it, are so convinced of the advantages of their situation, that they would not exchange their own, for all the countries in the world. In fact, they possess some benefits or conveniencies in it, which are not imaginary, but real. That country, produces some regaling fruits, although they are different from ours; and the abundance of game and fish in it, all of them remarkably fine flavoured, is immense. The winters, which with us are so disagreeably damp and rainy, are there clear and serene; from whence it follows, that the natives are active, healthy, and robust. Thunder storms are scarce ever known in that region, nor is there a venomous snake to be found in all the country. They live also exempt from those two great scourges of Heaven, war and pestilence, their climate defending them from both these visitations, it being as obnoxious to strangers and the plague, as it is healthy to the natives. The snow does not incommode them, for by their natural agility, added to art and contrivance they fly over the tops of the snowy heights like crows. The multitude of white bears with which the country abounds, serves them for amusement and diversion; for they are so dextrous in combating these fierce animals, that there is scarce a Laplander, who does not kill many of them in a year, although it is very rare, that a Laplander is ever killed by one of them.
IX. We may add, that the long nights in those subpolar regions, of which they give us so horrible a representation, are not so dismal as they are imagined to be. They hardly experience total darkness there above one whole month; the reason is, because the sun descends below his horizon only twenty-three degrees and a half; and according to the computation of astronomers, the twilight may be perceived at eighteen degrees of depression. Neither does the apparent absence of the sun continue for six months, as it is commonly thought, but for five only, for on account of the great refraction of the rays in that atmosphere, you see the sun, half a month before it mounts above the horizon, and for the same space of time after it descends below it. Some Dutchmen in a northern voyage they made in 1596, being in the latitude of 76, were vastly astonished at seeing the sun fifteen or sixteen days before they expected to see it. In our discourse on mathematical paradoxes, we explained this phænomenon, and shewed, that by attending to, and computing all things, those who inhabit near the Poles, enjoy the light of the sun for a greater portion of the year, than those who live in the temperate and torrid zones; therefore what is said of the equal repartition of light all over the world, although it is generally assented to, is not true.
X. We much admire, and live very happily on the aliments we commonly use; but there is no nation, to which the same thing does not happen. The people of the northern regions, find the flesh of bears, wolves, and foxes, very savoury and regaling. The Tartars are fond of horse-flesh; the Arabs of the flesh of camels; and the Africans and Chinese, of that of dogs; for they both eat and sell them in the markets as we do pig pork. In some regions of Africa, they eat monkies, crocodiles, and serpents; and Scaliger says, that in various parts of the east, bats are esteemed as regaling a dish, as chickens are with us.
XI. The same that happens in point of food, happens with respect to everything else, for whether it proceeds from the force of habit or the proportion of temperament or disposition of each nation respectively, or that things of the same species, have different qualities in different countries, which make them more or less commodious or agreeable; every one finds himself better satisfied with the things of his own country, than with those of a foreign one, and he is therefore attached to it, because he feels his own convenience better gratified there, and his partiality for it is not influenced by the supposed love of his country.
XII. The inhabitants of the Marian islands, which are so called from Dona Mariana of Austria, who sent missionaries among them for their conversion, made no use of, nor had any knowledge of fire. Who, however, would venture to assert, that this element was not indispensably necessary to human life, or that there was any nation whatever, which could subsist without it? But notwithstanding this, those islanders, without fire, lived contented and happy. They were not sensible of the want of it, because they did not know it. Roots, fruit, and crude fish, were all their aliment; and still they were more healthy and robust than we, for living to a hundred years of age, was very frequent and common among them.
XIII. The force of custom is amazingly powerful, for it is capable of not only making the greatest asperities sufferable, but by peoples being familiarized to them, it also causes their being satisfied under them. He who was not well apprized of this truth, would be led to think what passed between Esteban King of Poland, and the Peasants of Livonia, incredible. This glorious Prince having observed, that these poor people were cruelly and very ill-treated by the nobles of the province, convened them together, and after condoling with them on their misery, told them, he proposed to make their subjection less severe and easier to be tolerated, by restraining the exercise of power in the nobility, within more mild and moderate bounds; but wonderful to relate, instead of seeming sensible of his benevolence, and embracing the offer he made them, they threw themselves at his feet, and begged he would not alter their customs, with which, through long usage, they were quite satisfied. What will not the force of habit conquer, if it is capable of making tyranny agreeable! Join to this, the circumstance of the Muscovite women, who are not happy or contented, unless their husbands, without their giving them any occasion for it, beat or cudgel them every day, regarding this unprovoked ill-treatment, as a token of their great love for them.
XIV. We may add to the foregoing remarks, that an uniformity of language, religion, and customs, makes the intercourse with our countrymen grateful and pleasing, as a diversity in those matters, makes the society of strangers aukward and unentertaining. Our particular connections and personal friendships also, tend to produce the same effect; and generally speaking, the love of convenience, and of that private ease and happiness, which every man finds in his own country, is what attracts him to, and retains him in it, and not the love of the country itself. He who should experience better personal accommodation in another region, would do as St. Peter did, who, as soon as he found himself happily situated on Mount Tabor, resolved to fix his lasting abode on that eminence, and to abandon for good and all the valley in which he was born.
SECT. III.
XV. It is also true, that not only real, but imaginary conveniences, have their influence, to promote an adherence to our country. Entertaining a flattering opinion of the country in which we were born, and preferring it to all others in the world, is one of the most common of all common errors. There is scarce any man, and among the lower class of people not a single one, who does not think his own country the first production of nature, and abounding in a three-fold proportion, with all the goods she distributes, either with respect to the genius or ability of the natives, the fertility of the soil, or the happiness of the climate. To understandings of inferior rank, near objects are represented as by the corporeal eye, which although they are really less, appear larger than things at a distance. In his nation only, are to be found learned and wise men, those of other kingdoms are hardly civilized; the customs of his country only are rational, and the language of it is the only soft and sufferable one; the hearing a stranger speak, as effectually excites them to laughter, as seeing Jack Pudding on a stage; his nation only abounds in riches, and the Prince of it is the only powerful one. At the end of the last century, when the arms of France were so prevalent, a junto of people at Salamanca being talking on this subject, a low Portugueze who was among them, with an air of great sagacity and importance, made the following political remark: There is certainly now no Prince in Europe capable of resisting the King of France, except the King of Portugal. But what Michael Montona, in his treatise intitled Moral Reflections, relates of a rustic Savoyard, is more extravagant still, who said, I don’t believe the King of France has the ability he is said to have, for if that was the case, he would have negotiated with our Duke long ago, about making him his Major Domo. Nearly after this manner, do all the low vulgar discourse of the things of their own country.
XVI. Neither are many of those exempted from so gross an error, although it is in a less degree, who by their birth or professions, are much superior to the lower class of people. The number of vulgar who do not associate with the common herd, but are intruded among people of understanding, is infinite. How many men of school learning, whose heads were stored with texts, have I seen filled with the caprice, that our nation is the only seat of knowledge and learning, and that in other countries, they print nothing but puerilities and bagatelles, more especially if they write in their own native idiom; nor does it appear to them, that any thing worth reading, can be published in French or Italian, which is in a manner maintaining, that the most important truths can’t be expressed or explained in other languages, although it is certain, the Apostles expounded the most essential and sublime ones in all tongues. But strangers are sufficiently revenged on us for this conceitedness, for in return for our considering them as people of little learning, they look upon us as illiberal and barbarous. Thus in all countries, you will find this piece of bad road to travel through, which is worn in holes and made rough, by the hacknied passage of carriages, loaded with the high notions and opinions the natives have of themselves, and the low ones they entertain of strangers.
SECT. IV.
XVII. The worst is, that those who do not think with the vulgar, talk like the vulgar. This proceeds, from what we call national passion or prejudice, the legitimate child of vanity, and emulation. Vanity teaches us, that we are interested in our nation being esteemed superior to all others, because every individual looks upon himself as a partaker in the pre-eminence; and emulation causes us to view strangers, especially those who are nearest us, with a jealous eye, and also inclines us to wish their abasement for our own security. From both these motives, people attribute to their own country, a thousand feigned excellencies, although at the time they mention them, they know they are fictitious.
XVIII. This abuse, has filled the world with lyes, and has corrupted the faith of almost all histories. When the glory of his own nation influences him, you will hardly find an historian competently sincere. Plutarch was one of the most impartial writers of antiquity; notwithstanding which, the love of his country, in matters that related to it, made him deviate not a little from his candour; for, as the illustrious Cano remarks, he aggrandizes the events and things appertaining to Greece, beyond their just proportion. And John Bodin observes, that upon examining his lives, you will find, although his comparisons between Greek heroes and Greek heroes, and between Roman and Roman ones, were rightly and fairly made; that when he came to draw the parallel between Greeks and Romans, he warped in favour of his own countrymen.
XIX. I have always admired Titus Livius, not only for his eminent discretion, method, and judgment, but also for his veracity. He does not conceal or dissemble the failings of the Romans, when in the course of his history they come in the way of his pen; but on the contrary he lays them open and exposes them; and what is more, at the hazard of offending Augustus, he highly extolled Pompey, and blazoned his character as preferrable to Cæsar’s, which in those times amounted to the same thing, as declaring himself a zealous republican. Notwithstanding this, I observe a fault in this prince of historians, which if it did not proceed from want of his adverting to, or being aware of it, we must confess to be the effect of his passion for the marvellous. In the two first ages of their republic, he gives an account of as many battles gained, and as many cities taken by the Romans, as would be sufficient to compleat the conquest of a vast empire; but at the end of this time, we see that republic confined within such narrow bounds, that few less states are at this day to be found in all Italy, which is a proof that the antecedent victories, were not so many nor so great in the original, as they are represented to be in the copy.
XX. There is scarce one of the modern historians I have read, in whom I have not observed the same inconsistency. If they relate the events of a long war, they paint them so favourably to their own side, that the reader from those premises, is induced to promise himself, that it will end in an advantageous peace, in which his nation will give the law to the enemy; but as the premises are false, the conclusion does not follow, and in the end, he finds things turn out quite contrary to what he expected.
XXI. I am not insensible, that during a war, such sort of lies may be politically necessary; therefore in all countries, they print Gazettes with privilege; I don’t say of lying, but of colouring events, so that they should not dishearten, but seem encouraging to the people; and in their description of things, they imitate the artifice of Apelles, who painted Antigonus in profile, to conceal his being blind of one eye; I mean, that they display the favourable side of events, and cover the adverse one by a deception. I say, that policy requires this should be done in Gazettes, to prevent the subjects being dismayed by the adverse strokes of fortune; but in books that are written many years after the transactions, what danger is there in speaking the truth?
XXII. The case is, that although none could happen to the public by it, the writer himself who should make the attempt, would be exposed to a great deal. The poor historians, scarce dare to do otherwise than disguise such truths, as are not advantageous to their countrymen. They must either flatter their own nation, or lay down the pen; for if they fail to do this, they will be branded with the epithet of being disaffected to their country. I lament most heartily the lot of father Mariana; this very learned Jesuit, over and above possessing the other talents necessary for an historian, was exceedingly sincere and ingenuous; but this illustrious quality, which aggrandized his glory with found critics, diminished it among the vulgar of Spain; they said he had not a Spanish heart, and that his affections and his pen were inimical to his country; and as heretofore, the extreme rigour of Septimus Severus to the Romans, was attributed to his being of African extraction by his father’s side, they imputed to father Mariana, a certain kind of pique against the Spaniards, and assigned as the cause of it, I don’t know whether with truth or not, his being of French descent on the side of his mother. They would have had him relate events, not as they happened, but in such a way as should seem most pleasing to them; and by such as are fond of adulation, the man who is not a flatterer is regarded as an enemy. But the same thing which made this great man ill looked upon in Spain, gained him the highest eulogiums from the most eminent personages in Europe: the following, bestowed on him by the great Cardinal Baronius, is sufficient to establish his honour and his fame: Father John Mariana, a scrupulous lover of the truth, an excellent pattern and sectary of virtue, a worthy professor among the society of Jesus, and a Spaniard by birth, but void of all national passion or prejudice, in a learned and elegant stile, wrote a most perfect and faithful history of Spain. (Baron. ad ann. Christi 688.)
XXIII. It is not only in Spain, that they would have their historians panegyrists, for the same thing happens in other countries. The King of England, sent for the famous Gregory Leti, to write the history of that kingdom; but he having protested he would not take pen in hand, unless he was allowed to speak the truth; the King, to encourage him to engage in the undertaking, assured him, that he should be permitted to comply with this indispensable obligation, upon which, he set to work, and compiled his history from the best authorities, and the most faithful monuments and records he could discover; but the natives having found reason to be dissatisfied with many of the facts laid open in it, the King repented of the permission he had given him, the copies were all called in by the procurement of administration, and the historian obliged to leave England, but ill recompensed for his trouble.
XXIV. We Spaniards, complain much of the French authors, alledging, that from their hatred to us, they disfigure transactions which are glorious to our nation, and aggrandize in proportion, such as are favourable to their own. This complaint is reciprocal, and I believe well founded on both sides. When there have been frequent wars between two nations, you will always observe, that from the jealousies and animosities these have produced, the wars are constantly kept up in the writings of the authors of both kingdoms; for united as in the arrow, the feather follows the impetus of the steel.
XXV. But as a tribute due to truth and justice, I can’t avoid taking notice in this place, of an unjust accusation, which has been fulminated by our countrymen against the authors of that nation. They say, that in relating the events of that kingdom in the reign of Francis the first, they are either silent, or deny the imprisonment of that King at the battle of Pavia. This complaint has not the least foundation, for I have read accounts of this advantage of our arms in various French authors, and even in one of them, I saw celebrated the piquant answer of a French lady to King Francis, on the event of his imprisonment. The King in a satyrical manner, that insinuated Time had robbed her of her charms, said to her, Madam, how long is it since you came from the land of Beauty? To which the lady readily answered, Ever since you came from the country of Pavia.
XXVI. Where I find the most reason for the Spaniards to be angry with the French authors, is in their denying the coming of St. James to Spain, and in their refusing to acknowledge that his sacred body is deposited there; but these pretensions are more the offspring of criticism than national jealousy, and never were material objects of emulation between the two nations. It is on the subject of the justice of wars, and the advantages gained in the prosecution of them, that the pens engage with the most acrimony.
SECT. V.
XXVII. From this spirit of national prejudice, which prevails in almost all histories, it happens, that with respect to an infinite number of facts, the things which are past seem as uncertain to us, as those which are to come. I acknowledge, that the historical Pyrrhonism of Campanela was extravagant, who carried his want of confidence in history to such a point, as to say, he doubted whether there ever was an Emperor in the world named Charles the Great. But with respect to those events, which the historians of one nation affirm, and those of another deny; and as there are many such events, it will be prudent for us to suspend our judgment, till some well-informed third person shall decide upon them; for, excited either by vanity or inclination, or led by condescension, every one goes on to flatter his own nation; the light of truth at the same time, being concealed from the eyes of the people, by the smoke of the incense of flattery, and the harmony of adulation, preventing their listening to the voice of reason.
XXVIII. I shall not dwell upon those authors, who carried the passion for their country, to lengths of extravagance, such as Goropius Becanus, a native of Brabant, who very deliberately endeavoured to prove, that the Flemish tongue was the first in the world; and Olaus Rudbec, a Swede, who, in a book he wrote on purpose, tried to evince, that all which the antients had said of the Fortunate Islands, the garden of the Hesperides and Elysian fields, alluded to Sweden, pronouncing at the same time, his own country to be the source and perfection of European learning; and asserting, that letters and the art of writing, did not descend from Phœnicia to Greece, but from Phœnicia to Sweden; in the prosecution of which undertaking, he rummaged out, and expended in waste, much hidden learning.
XXIX. It may also be proper to observe here, that another opposite vicious extreme, if it is not derived from, arises in consequence of this prejudice. It has been remarked by some, of a modern Spanish author, that he has been guilty of unjustly denying to Spain, the honour of some glorious antiquities, with a view of being applauded as a sincere man among strangers. Perhaps this was not his motive, but that his criticism was defective, for want of being tempered with a due mixture of the indulgent and the severe; and that to avoid the imputation of flattery, he ran into the opposite offensive extreme; for