Part 4

SIR,

I have read your Two Volumes of Alciphron, or, The Minute Philosopher with Attention. As far as I am a Judge, the Language is very good, the Diction correct, and the Style and whole Manner of Writing are both polite and entertaining: All together bespeak the Author to be a Man of Learning, good Sense and Capacity. My Design in troubling you with this tedious Epistle in Print, which perhaps will be longer than you could have wish'd it, is to rescue the Publick from a vulgar Error, which Thousands of knowing and well-meaning People, and your self, I see, among the Rest, have been led into by a common Report, concerning The Fable of the Bees, as if it was a wicked Book, wrote for the Encouragement of Vice, and to debauch the Nation. I beg of you not to imagine, that I intend to blame you, or any other candid Man like your self, for having rashly given Credit to such a Report without further Examination. The Fable of the Bees has been presented by a Grand Jury more than once; and there is hardly a Book that has been preach'd and wrote against with greater Vehemence or Severity. When a Work is so generally exclaim'd against, a wise Man, who has no Mind to mispend his Time, has a very good Reason for not reading it. But as your second Dialogue is almost entirely levell'd at that Book and its Author, and you have no where declar'd in Words at length (at least, as I remember) that you never read The Fable of the Bees, it is possible I might be ask'd, why I would take it for granted, that you never had read it, when many of your Readers perhaps will believe the contrary. If this Question was put to me, I would readily answer, that I chose to be of that Opinion, because it is the most favourable I can possibly entertain of Dion. It is not, Sir, believe me, out of Disrespect, that I call you plain Dion; but because I would treat you with the utmost Civility: It is the Name under which, I find, you are pleas'd to disguise your self; and offering to guess at an Author, when he chuses to be conceal'd, is, I think a Rudeness almost equal to that of pulling off a Woman's Mask against her Will.

Whoever reads your second Dialogue, will not find in it any real Quotations from my Book, either stated or examined into, but that the wicked Tenets and vile Assertions there justly exposed, are either such Notions and Sentiments, as first, my Enemies, to render me odious, and afterwards Common Fame had already father'd upon me, tho' not to be met with in any Part of my Book; or else, that they are spiteful Inferences, and invidious Comments, which others before you, without Justness or Necessity, had drawn from and made upon what I had innocently said. I find no Fault with you, Sir; for whilst a Person believes these Accusations against me to be true, and is entirely unacquainted with the Book they point at, it is not impossible that he might inveigh against it without having any Mischief in his Heart, tho' it was the most useful Performance in the World. A Man may be credulous and yet well disposed; but if a Man of Sense and Penetration, who had actually read The Fable of the Bees, and with Attention perused every Part of it, should write against it in the same strain, as Dion has done in his second Dialogue, then I must confess, I should be at a Loss, what Excuse to make for him.

It is impossible that a Man of the least Probity, whilst he is writing in Behalf of Virtue and the Christian Religion, should commit such an immoral Act as to calumniate his Neighbour, and willfully misrepresent him in the most atrocious Manner. If Dion had read The Fable of the Bees, he would not have suffer'd such lawless Libertines as Alciphron and Lysicles to have shelter'd themselves under my Wings; but he would have demonstrated to them, that my Principles differ'd from theirs, as Sunshine does from Darkness. When they boasted of setting Men free, and their abominable Design of ridding them of the Shackles of Laws and Governments, he would have quoted to them the very Beginning of my Preface. Laws and Government are to the political Bodies of civil Societies, what the vital Spirits and Life it self are to the natural Bodies of animated Creatures. From the same Preface he would have shew'd those barefaced Advocates for all Manner of Wickedness, the small Encouragement they were like to get from my Book; and as soon as it appear'd, that by Liberty they meant Licentiousness, and a Privilege to commit the most detestable Crimes with Impunity, he would have quoted these Words: When I assert, that Vices are inseperable from great and potent Societies, and that it is impossible, that their Wealth and Grandeur should subsist without; I do not say, that the particular Members of them, who are guilty of any, should not be continually reproved, or not punish'd for them when they grew into Crimes. This he would have corroborated by several Passages in the Book it self, and not have forgot what I say, page 255. I lay down as a first Principle, that in all Societies, great or small, it is the Duty of every Member of it to be good, that Virtue ought to be encouraged, Vice discountenanc'd, the Laws obey'd, and the Transgressors punish'd. If he had only read the first Edition, a little Book in Twelves, a Man of Dion's Virtue and Integrity could not have stifled the Care I have taken in Fifty Places, nor the many Cautions I have given, that I might not offend or be misunderstood: On the Contrary, he would have made use of them, to undeceive his Friends, and prevented their groundless Fears and senseless Insinuations. If Dion had read what I have said about the Fire of London, Nothing but his Politeness could have hinder'd him from bursting out into a loud Laughter at the judicious Remark of the Learned Crito, where he points at the Probability, that the late Incendiaries had taken the Hint of their Villainies from The Fable of the Bees.

I can't say, that there are not several Passages in that Dialogue, which would induce one to believe, that you had dipt into The Fable of the Bees; but then to suppose, that upon having only dipt in it, you would have wrote against it as you have done, would be so injurious to your Character, the Character of an honest Man, that I have not Patience to reason upon such an uncharitable Supposition. I know very well, Sir, that I am addressing my self to a Man of Parts, a Master in Logick, and a subtle Metaphysician, not to be imposed upon by Sophistry or false Pretences: Therefore I beg of you, carefully to examine what I have said hitherto, and you'll be convinced; that my not believing you to have read The Fable of the Bees, can proceed from Nothing but the good Opinion I have of your Worth and Candour, which I hope I shall never have any Occasion to alter. You are not the first, Sir, by five hundred, who has been very severe upon The Fable of the Bees without having ever read it. I have been at Church my self when the Book in Question has been preach'd against with great Warmth by a worthy Divine, who own'd, that he had never seen it; and there are living Witnesses now, Persons of unquestion'd Reputation, who heard it as well as I.

After all, you have advanced Nothing in the second Dialogue concerning me, which it may not be proved to have been said or insinuated over and over in Pamphlets, Sermons and News-Papers of all Sorts and Parties. I can help you to another very good Reason why a Man of Sense might not mistrust the ill Report, that has been spread about The Fable of the Bees, and write against it in general Terms, tho' he had not read it. Every body knows, what Pains our Party-writers take in contradicting one another, and that there are few Things, which if the one praises, the other does not condemn. Now, if we find the London Journal have a Fling at The Fable of the Bees one Day, and The Craftsman another, it is a certain Sign that the ill Repute of the Book, must be well establish'd and not to be doubted of. Then why might not an Author write against it, without giving himself the Trouble of reading it? It would be hard, a Man should not dare to affirm, that it is hot in the East-Indies, without having made a tedious Voyage thither and felt it. The more therefore I reflect, Sir, on your second Dialogue, and the Manner you treat me in, the more I am convinced, that you never read the Book I speak of, I mean, not read it through, or at least not with Attention. If Dion had inform'd himself concerning The Fable of the Bees, as he might have done, he must have met with my Vindication of it in some Shape or other. First, it came out in a News-Paper; after that, I publish'd it in a Six-penny Pamphlet, together with the Words of the first Presentment of the Grand Jury and an injurious abusive Letter to Lord C. that came out immediately after it; both which had been the Occasion of my writing that Vindication. The Reason I gave for doing this, was, that the Reader might be fully instructed in the Merits of the Cause between my Adversaries and my Self; and because I thought it requisite, that to judge of my Defence, he should know the whole Charge, and all the Accusations against me at large. I took Care to have this printed in such a Manner, as to the Letter and Form, that for the Benefit of the Buyers, it might conveniently be bound up, and look of a Piece with the then last, which was the second Edition. Ever since the whole Contents of this Pamphlet have been added to the Book, and are at the End of the third, the fourth, and the fifth, as well as this last Impression of 1732. If Dion had seen and approved of this Vindication, he would not have wrote against me at all; and if he had thought my Answers not satisfactory, and that I had not clear'd my self from the Aspersions, which had been cast upon me, it was unkind, if not a great Disregard to the Publick, not to take Notice of it, and shew the Insufficiency of my Defence, which from his own Writings it is evident, that great Numbers of the beau monde must have acquiesc'd in, or not thought necessary.

Give me Leave, then, Sir, for your own Sake, to treat you, as if you never had read The Fable of the Bees and in Return I give you my Word, that I shall make no use of it to your Disadvantage; on the Contrary, I take it for granted, that from the bad Character you had heard of the Book from every Quarter, you had sufficient Reason to write against it, as you have done, without any further Enquiry. This being settled, I shall attempt to shew you the Possibility, that a Book might come into such a general Disrepute without deserving it. An Author, who dares to expose Vice, and the Luxury of the Time he lives in, pulls off the Disguises of artful Men, and examining in to the false Pretences, which are made to Virtue, lays open the Lives of those, Qui Curios simulant & Bacchanalia vivunt: An Author, I say, who dares to do this in a great, and opulent, and flourishing Nation, can never fail of drawing upon him a great Number of Enemies. Few Men can bear with Patience, to see those Things detected, which it is their Interest, and they take Pains to conceal. As to Grand Juries, what they go upon is, the Testimony of others; they don't judge of Books from their own Reading; and many have been presented by them, which none, or at least the greatest Part of them had never seen before. Yet when ever the Publisher of a Book is presented by a Grand Jury, it is counted a publick Censure upon the Author, a Disgrace not easily wiped off.

The News-Writers, whose chief Business it is, to fill their Papers and raise the Attention of their Readers, never forget any Scandal which can be publish'd with Impunity. By this Means a Book, which once this Indignity has been put upon, is in a few Days render'd odious, and in less than a Fortnight comes to be infamous throughout the Kingdom without any other Demerit; Those Polemick Authors among them, who are Party-Men, and write either for or against Courts and Ministers, have a greater Regard to what will serve their Purpose, than they have to Truth or Sincerity. As they subsist by vulgar Errors, and are kept alive by the Spirit of Strife and Contention, so it is not their Business to rectify Mistakes in Opinion, but rather to encrease them when it serves their Turn. They know, that whoever would ingratiate themselves with Multitudes and gain Credit amongst them, must not contradict them; which is the Reason that, how widely soever these Party-Writers may differ from One another in Principles and Sentiments, they will never differ in their Censure or Applause, when they touch upon such Notions which are generally receiv'd.

If you'll consider, Sir, what I have said in the two last Paragraphs, you will easily see the Possibility that Books may get into an ill Repute and a very bad Character without deserving it. The next I shall endeavour to demonstrate to you, is, that this has been the Case of The Fable of the Bees, and that the Animosities which have been shewn against it, were originally owing to another Cause, than what my Adversaries pretended to be the true one. In order to this, I shall be obliged to make several Quotations from the Book it self, and repeat many Things, which I have already said in the Vindication hinted at before: But as I design this only for your self and those who have judged of the Book from Common Report, and never perused either the First or the Second Part of it, these Citations will be as new to you as any other Part of my Letter.

I am not ignorant of the Prejudice and real Hurt, which Authors do themselves by making long Quotations. They interrupt the Sense, and often break off the Thread of the Discourse; and many a Reader, when he comes to the End of a long Citation, has forgot the main Subject, and often the Thing it self, which that very Citation was brought in to prove. For this Reason we see, that Judicious Writers avoid them as much as possible; or that where they cannot do without, instead of inserting them in the main Text of their Works, they make Place for them in Notes or Remarks, which they refer to, or else an Appendix, where many of them may be put together, and are never seen but by Choice, and when the Reader is at Leisure. That this segregating all extraneous Matter from the main Body of the Book, the Text it self, is less disagreeable to most Readers, than the other, which I hinted at first, is certain; but it is attended with this ill Consequence, which the less engaging Method of Writing is not, to wit, that many curious and often the most valuable Things, and which it is of the highest Concern to the Author, that they should be known, are neglected and never look'd into, only because they are put into Notes or Appendixes. In my Case you'll find, Sir, that the long Quotations, some of them of several Pages, which I am obliged to trouble you with, are more material for the Vindication of my Book than all that can possibly be said besides. For they will not only demonstrate to you, that I have been shamefully misrepresented, but likewise give you a clear Insight into the real Cause of the Anger, the Hatred, and Inveteracy, of my Enemies, who first gave the Book an ill Name, and were the industrious Authors of the false Reports, by which your self and many other good Men, to my great Affliction, have been impos'd upon. You'll pardon me then, Sir, if, consulting my own Interest in a just Defence, rather than your Pleasure in reading it, I plant my strongest Evidences so directly in your Way, that, if you'll do me the Favour of perusing this Letter, it shall be impossible for you to remain ignorant any longer of the Innocence of my Intentions, and the Injustice that has been done me.

In the Presentment of the Grand Jury in 1723, it is insinuated that in The Fable of the Bees there are Encomiums upon Stews, which I can assure you, Sir, is not true. What might have given a Handle to this Charge, must be a Political Dissertation concerning the best Method to guard and preserve Women of Honour and Virtue from the Insults of dissolute Men, whose Passions are often ungovernable. As in this there is a Dilemma between two Evils, which it is impracticable to shun both, so I have treated it with the utmost Caution, and begin thus: I am far from encouraging Vice, and should think it an unspeakable Felicity for a State, if the Sin of Uncleanness could be utterly banish'd from it; but I am afraid it is impossible. I give my Reasons, why I think it so; and speaking occasionally of the Musick-Houses at Amsterdam, I give a short Account of them, than which Nothing can be more harmless. To prove this to those who have bought or are possess'd of The Fable of the Bees, it would be sufficient to appeal and refer to the Book: But as one great Reason of my printing this Letter, is to shew my Innocence to such, who, as well as your self, neither have read nor care to buy the Book, it is requisite I should transcribe the whole. You'll see, Sir, that my Aim is to shew, that these Musick-Houses are discountenanc'd, at the same Time they are tolerated.

In the first Place, the Houses I speak of, are allow'd to be no where but in the most slovenly and unpolish'd Part of the Town, where Seamen and Strangers of no Repute chiefly lodge and resort. The Street, in which most of them stand, is counted scandalous, and the Infamy is extended to all the Neighbourhood round it. In the Second, they are only Places to meet and bargain in, to make Appointments, in order to promote Interviews of greater Secrecy, and no Manner of Lewdness is ever suffer'd to be transacted in them; which Order is so strictly observ'd, that, bar the Ill Manners and Noise of the Company that frequent them, you'll meet with no more Indecency, and generally less Lasciviousness there, than with us are to seen at a Play-House. Thirdly, the Female Traders, that come to these Evening-Exchanges, are always the Scum of the People, and generally such, as in the Day-Time carry Fruit and other Eatables about in Wheel-barrows. The Habits indeed they appear in at Night, are very different from their ordinaray ones; yet they are commonly so ridiculously gay, that they look more like the Roman Dresses of strolling Actresses, than Gentlewomens Cloaths: If to this you add the Awkwardness, the hard Hands and course Breeding of the Damsels that wear them, there is no great Reason to fear, that many of the better Sort of People will be tempted by them.

The Musick in these Temples of Venus is perform'd by Organs, not out of Respect to the Deity that is worship'd in them, but the Frugality of the Owners, whose Business it is to procure as much Sound for as little Money as they can, and the Policy of the Government, which endeavours as little as is possible, to encourage the Breed of Pipers and Scrapers. All Sea-faring Men, especially the Dutch, are, like the Element they belong to, much given to Loudness and Roaring, and the Noise of Half a Dozen of them, when they call themselves Merry, is sufficient to drown Twice the Number of Flutes or Violins; whereas with one Pair of Organs they can make the whole House ring, and are at no other Charge than the keeping of one scurvy Musician, which can cost them but little, yet notwithstanding the good Rules and strict Discipline that are observ'd in these Markets of Love, the Schout and his Officers are always vexing, mulcting, and, upon the least Complaint, removing the miserable Keepers of them: Which Policy is of two great Uses; First, it gives an Opportunity to a large Parcel of Officers, the Magistrates make use of on many Occasions, and which they could not be without, to squeeze a Living out of the immoderate Gains accruing from the worst of Employments, and at the same Time punish those necessary Profligates, the Bawds and Panders, whom, tho' they abominate, they desire yet not wholly to destroy. Secondly, as on several Accounts it might be dangerous to let the Multitude into the Secret, that those Houses and the Trade that is drove in them are conniv'd at, so, by this Means appearing unblameable, the wary Magistrates preserve themselves in the good Opinion of the weaker Sort of People, who imagine, that the Government is always endeavouring, tho' unable, to suppress what it actually tolerates: Whereas if they had a Mind to rout them out, their Power in the Administration of Justice is so sovereign and extensive, and they know so well how to have it executed, that one Week, nay one Night, might send them all a packing.

I appeal to your self, Sir, whether this Relation is not more proper to give Men (even the Voluptuous, of any Taste) a Disgust and Aversion to the Women in those Houses, than it is to raise any criminal Desire. I am sorry the Grand Jury should conceive, as they said, that I publish'd this with a Design to debauch the Nation; without considering, in the first Place, that there is not a Sentence nor a Syllable, that can either offend the chastest Ear, or sully the Imagination of the most vicious; or, in the Second, that the Matter complain'd of, is manifestly address'd to Magistrates and Politicians, or at least the most serious and thinking Part of Mankind; whereas a general Corruption of Manners, as to Lewdness, to be produced by Reading, can only be apprehended from Obscenities, easily purchased, and every Way adapted to the Tastes and Capacities of the heedless Multitude, and unexperienc'd Youth of both Sexes; but that the Performance so outragiously exclaim'd against was never calculated for either of these Classes of People, is self-evident from every Circumstance. The Beginning of the Prose is altogether Philosophical, and hardly intelligible to any, that have not been used to Matters of Speculation; and the running Title of it is so far from being specious, or inviting, that, without having read the Book it self, No body knows what to make of it, whilst at the same Time the Price is Five Shillings. From all which it is very plain, that if the Book contains any dangerous Tenets, I have not been very sollicitous to scatter them among the People. I have not said a Word to please or engage them, and the greatest Compliment I have made them, has been, Apage Vulgus. But as Nothing (I say p 257.) would more clearly demonstrate the Falsity of my Notions, than that the Generality of the People should fall in with them, so I don't expect the Approbation of the Multitude. I write not to Many, nor seek for any Well-wishers, but among the Few that can think abstractly, and have their Minds elevated above the Vulgar. Of this I have made no ill Use, and ever preserv'd such a tender Regard to the Publick, that when I have advanced any uncommon Sentiments, I have used all the Precautions imaginable that they might not be hurtful to weak Minds that might casually dip into the Book. When (page 255) I own'd, that it was my Sentiment, that no Society could be raised into a rich and mighty Kingdom, or, so raised, subsist in their Wealth and Power for any considerable Time, without the Vices of Man, I had premised what was true, that I had never said or imagin'd, that Man could not be virtuous, as well in a rich and mighty Kingdom, as in the most pitiful Commonwealth; mind Sir, p. 257. When I say, that Societies cannot be raised to Wealth and Power and the Top of Earthly Glory without Vices, I don't think, that by so saying, I bid Men be vicious, any more than I bid them be quarrelsome or covetous, when I affirm, that the Profession of the Law could not be maintain'd in such Numbers and Splendour, if there was not Abundance of too selfish and litigious People. A Caution of the same Nature I had already given towards the End of the Preface, on Account of a palpable Evil, inseparable from the Felicity of London. The Words are these, There are, I believe, few People in London, of those that are at any Time forc'd to go a-foot, but what could wish the Streets of it much cleaner than generally they are, whilst they regard Nothing but their own Cloaths and private Conveniency: but when once they come to consider, that what offends them, is the Result of the Plenty, great Traffick and Opulency of that mighty City, if they have any Concern in its Welfare, they will hardly ever wish to see the Streets of it less dirty. For if we mind the Materials of all Sorts, that must supply such an infinite Number of Trades and Handicrafts as are always going forward, and the vast Quantities of Victuals, Drink, and Fuel, that are daily consumed in it; the Waste and Superfluities, that must be produced from them; the Multitudes of Horses and other Cattle, that are always daubing the Streets; the Carts, Coaches, and more heavy Carriages, that are perpetually wearing and breaking the Pavement of them; and, above all, the numberless Swarms of People, that are continually harassing and trampling through every Part of them: If, I say, we mind all these, we shall find, that every Moment must produce new Filth; and considering how far distant the great Streets are from the River-side, what Cost and Care soever be bestow'd to remove the Nastiness almost as fast as it is made, it is impossible London should be more cleanly before it is less flourishing. Now would I ask if a good Citizen, in Consideration of what has been said, might not assert, that dirty Streets are a necessary Evil inseparable from the Felicity of London, without being the least Hindrance to the Cleaning of Shoes, or Sweeping of Streets, and consequently without any Prejudice either to the Blackguard or the Scavengers.

But if, without any Regard to the Interest or Happiness of the City, the Question was put, What Place I thought most pleasant to walk in? No body can doubt but before the stinking Streets of London, I would esteem a fragrant Garden, or shady Grove in the Country. In the same Manner, if, laying aside all worldly Greatness and Vain Glory, I should be ask'd, where I thought it was most probable that Men might enjoy true Happiness, I would prefer a small peaceable Society, in which Men, neither envy'd nor esteem'd by Neighbours, should be contented to live upon the Natural Product of the Spot they inhabit, to a vast Multitude abounding in Wealth and Power, that should always be conquering others by their Arms Abroad, and debauching themselves by Foreign Luxury at Home.

I own, Sir, it is my Opinion, and I have endeavour'd to prove, that Luxury, tho' depending upon the Vices of Man, is absolutely necessary to render a great Nation formidable, opulent and polite at the same Time. But before you pass any Judgment upon me for this, give me Leave to put you in Mind of Two Things, which I take to be undeniably true. The First is, that the Kingdom of Christ is not of this World; and that the last-named is the very Thing a true Christian ought to renounce: I mean, that when we speak of the World in a figurative Sense, as the Knowledge of the World, the Glory of the World; or in French, Le beau Monde, le grand Monde; and when in a Man's Praise we say, that he understands the World very well; that, I say, when we use the Word in this Manner, it signifies, and we understand by it that same World which the Gospel gives us so many Cautions and pronounces so severely against. The Second is, that I have wrote in an Age and a Nation, where the greatest Part of the Fashionable, and what we call the better Sort of People, seem to be far more delighted with Temporal, than they are with Spiritual Enjoyments, at the same Time that they profess themselves to be Christians; and that whatever they may talk, preach or write of a Future State and eternal Felicity, they are all closely attach'd to this wicked World; or at least, that the Generality, in their Actions and Endeavours, seem to be infinitely more sollicitous about the one, than they are about the other.

If you will consider these Two Things, you'll find, that I have supposed no Necessity of Vice, but among those by whom worldly Greatness is in Esteem and thought necessary to Happiness. The more curious and operose Manufactures are, the more Hands they employ; and that with the Variety of them, the Number of Workmen must still encrease, wants no Proof. It is evident likewise, that Foreign Traffick consists in changing of Commodities, and removing them from one Place to another. No Nation, that has no Gold or Silver of their own Growth, can purchase our Product long, unless we, or Some body else, will buy theirs. The Epithets of polite and flourishing are never given to Countries, before they are arriv'd at a considerable Degree of Luxury; and a flourishing Nation without it, is Bread without Corn, a Perriwig without Hair, or a Library without Books.

Assertions as these, an indulgent Reader will say, might yet be borne with; and Hypocrites, by putting false Glosses on Things, and giving favourable Constructions to their Actions, might persuade the World, that to make this necessary Consumption, they labour'd for the Publick Good; that they fed on Trouts and Turbots, Quails and Ortolans, and the most expensive Dishes, not to please their dainty Palates or their Vanity, but to maintain the Fishmonger and the Poulterer and the many Wretches, who, for a miserable Livelyhood, are daily slaving to furnish them. That they wore gold Brocades, and made new Cloaths every Fortnight, not to gratify their own Pride or Fickleness, but for the Benefit of the Mercer, the Merchant, and the Weaver, and the Encouragement of Trade in general. That the Extravagancy of their Tables, and Splendor of Entertainments, were only the Effects of an Hospitable Temper, their Benevolence to others, and a generous Disposition: That Pride or Ostentation had no Hand in these Things, nor yet in the laying out of the immense Sums for the Elegancy and Magnificence of Equipages, Gardens, Furniture and Buildings. All these Things, I dare say, you would let pass; but if you should hear a Man say, that this Consumption depends chiefly upon Qualities, we pretend to be asham'd of, it would be offensive to you; and if he should maintain, that, without the Vices of Man, it would be impossible to enjoy all the Ease, Glory, and Greatness, the World can afford, and which, in short, we are fond of, you would think his Assertion to be a terrible Paradox.

Many People would believe, that Hunger, tho' they never felt the Extremities of it, is, in order to live, as requisite to a Man, as it is to a Cormorant, or to a Wolf; and that without Lust, if you give it a softer Name, our Species could not be preserv'd, any more than that of Bulls or Goats. But not One in a Thousand can imagine, tho' it be equally demonstrable, that in the Civil Society the Avarice of Some and the Profuseness of Others, together with the Pride and Envy of most Individuals, are absolutely necessary to raise them to a great and powerful, and, in the Language of the World, polite Nation. It seems still to be a greater Paradox, that natural as well as moral Evil, and the very Calamities we pray against, do not only contribute to this worldly Greatness, but a certain Proportion of them is so necessary to all Nations, that it is not to be conceiv'd, how any Society could subsist upon Earth, exempt from all Evil, both natural and moral.

Yet these Things are asserted, and, I think, demonstrated in The Fable of the Bees. The Book has run through several Impressions, and met with innumerable Enemies: Nothing was ever more reviled from the Pulpit as well as the Press. I have been call'd all the ugly Names in Print, that Malice or ill Manners can invent; but not one of my Adversaries has attempted to disprove what I had said, or overthrow any one Argument, I made Use of, otherwise than by exclaiming against it, and saying that it was not true: which to me is a Sign, that not only what I have advanced is not easy to refute, but likewise, that my Opposers are more closely attach'd to the World, than even I my self had imagined them to be. Otherwise it is impossible, but, perceiving this Difficulty, some of them would have reason'd after the following Manner, viz. Since this worldly Greatness is not to be attain'd to without the Vices of Man, I will have Nothing to do with it; since it is impossible to serve God and Mammon, my Choice shall be soon made: No temper I Pleasure can be worth running the Risque of being eternally miserable; and, let who will labour to aggrandise the Nation, I will aim at higher Ends, and take Care of my own Soul.

The Moment such a Thought enters into a Man's Head, all the Poison is taken away from the Book, and every Bee has lost his Sting.

Those who should in Reality prefer Spirituals to Temporals, and be seen to take more Pains to attain an everlasting Felicity, than they did for the Enjoyment of the fading Pleasures and transient Glorie of this Life, would not grudge to make some Abatements in the Ease, the Conveniencies, and the Comforts of it, or even to part with some of their Possessions upon Earth, to make sure of their Inheritance in the Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever Liking they might have to the curious Embellishments and elegant Inventions of the Voluptuous, they would refuse to purchase them at the Hazard of Damnation. In Judging of themselves they would not be such easy Casuists, nor think it sufficient not to act contrary to the Laws of the Land, unless they likewise obey'd the Precepts of Christ. No Book would be plainer or more intelligible to them than the Gospel; and without consulting either Fathers or Councils, they would be satisfied, that mortifying the Flesh never could signify to indulge every Appetite, not prohibited by an Earthly Legislator.

What Skill, pray, would it require in Controversy, to be convinced, that to yield to all the Allurements, to comply with every Mode and Fashion, and partake of all the Vanities of the World, was the very Reverse of Renouncing it, if Words had any Signification at all? Here lies the Difficulty; and here is the true Cause of the Quarrel, and all the Spite and Invectives against The Fable of the Bees and its Author. My Adversaries will not be stinted, or abate an Ace of the wordly Enjoyments they can purchase, because the whole Earth was made for Man; Libertines say the same of Women, and with equal Justice; yet relying on this pitiful Reason, they will eat and drink as deliciously as they can: No Pleasure is denied them, forsooth, that is used with Moderation; and in Cloaths, Houses, Furniture, Equipages and Attendance, they may live in perfect Conformity with the most vain and luxurious of the fashionable People; only with this Difference, that their Hearts must not be attach'd to these Things, and their grand Hope be in Futurity. This notable Proviso being once made, tho' in Words only, all is safe; and no Luxury or Epicurism are so barefac'd, no Ease is so effeminate, no Elegancy so vainly curious, and no Invention so operose or expensive, as to interfere with Religion or any Promises made of Renouncing the World; if they are warranted by Custom, and the Usage of others, who are their Equals in Estate and Dignity.

Oh rare Doctrine! Oh easy Christianity! To be moderate in numberless Extravagancies, Terence would tell them was as practicable as cum ratione insanire: But if we grant the Possibility of it, how shall we know and be convinced that they are sincere; that their Hearts and Desires are so little engaged to this vile Earth, as they pretend; or that the Thoughts of a World to come are any Part of their real Concern, when we have Nothing but their bare Word for it, and all other Appearances are unanimous, and the most positive Witnesses against them?

I know, that my Enemies won't allow, that I wrote with this View; tho' I have told them before, and demonstrated, that The Fable of the Bees was a Book of exalted Morality; they refuse to believe me; their Clamours against it continue; and what I have now said in Defence of it, will be rejected, and call'd an Artifice to come off; that it is full of dangerous, wicked and Atheistical Notions, and could not have been wrote with any other Design than the Encouragement of Vice. Should I ask them what Vices they were; Whoring, Drinking, Gaming; or desire them to name any one Passage, where the least Immorality is recommended, spoke well of, or so much as conniv'd at, they would have Nothing to lay hold on but the Title Page. But why then, will you say, are they so inveterate against it? I have hinted at it just now, but I will more openly unfold that Mystery.

I have, in the Book in Question, exposed the real Pleasures of the Voluptuous, and taken Notice of the great Scarcity of true Self-denial among Christians, and in doing this I have spared the Clergy no more than the Laity: This has highly provoked a great many. But as I have done this without the least Exaggeration, meddled with Nothing, but what is plainly known and seen, and always said less than I could have proved, my Adversaries were obliged to dissemble the Cause of their Anger. What vex'd them the more was, that it was wrote without Rancour or Peevishness; and, if not in a pleasant, at least in an open good-humour'd Manner, free, I dare say, from Pedantry and Sourness. Therefore None of them ever touch'd upon this Point, or spoke one Syllable of the only Thing, which in their Hearts they hate me for.

Here, Sir, I must trouble you with a Parable, in which are couch'd the Prevarications and false Pretences with which the Generality of the World would cover their real Inclinations and the Ends of their Wishes. May it prove as diverting to you as the Matter is really instructive.

In old Heathen Times there was, they say, a Whimsical Country, where the People talked much of Religion; and the greatest Part, as to outward Appearance, seem'd really devout: The chief moral Evil among them was Thirst, and to quench it, a Damnable Sin; yet they unanimously agreed, that Every one was born Thirsty more or less. Small Beer in Moderation was allow'd to All; and he was counted an Hypocrite, a Cynick, or a Madman, who pretended that One could live altogether without it; yet those, who owned they loved it, and drank it to Excess, were counted Wicked. All this while the Beer it self was reckon'd a Blessing from Heaven, and there was no Harm in the Use of it; all the Enormity lay in the Abuse, the Motive of the Heart, that made them drink it. He that took the least Drop of it to quench his Thirst, committed a heinous Crime, whilst others drank large Quantities without any Guilt, so they did it indifferently, and for no other Reason than to mend their Complexion.