In Praise of Folly

duty which they owe the people. Nor does their shorn crown in the least admonish them that a priest

should be free from all worldly desires and think of nothing but heavenly things. Whereas on the

contrary, these jolly fellows say they have sufficiently discharged their offices if they but anyhow

mumble over a few odd prayers, which, so help me, Hercules! I wonder if any god either hear or

understand, since they do neither themselves, especially when they thunder them out in that manner

they are wont. But this they have in common with those of the heathens, that they are vigilant

enough to the harvest of their profit, nor is there any of them that is not better read in those laws

than the Scripture. Whereas if there be anything burdensome, they prudently lay that on other men’s

shoulders and shift it from one to the other, as men toss a ball from hand to hand, following herein

the example of lay princes who commit the government of their kingdoms to their grand ministers,

and they again to others, and leave all study of piety to the common people. In like manner the

common people put it over to those they call ecclesiastics, as if themselves were no part of the

Church, or that their vow in baptism had lost its obligation. Again, the priests that call themselves

secular, as if they were initiated to the world, not to Christ, lay the burden on the regulars; the

regulars on the monks; the monks that have more liberty on those that have less; and all of them

on the mendicants; the mendicants on the Carthusians, among whom, if anywhere, this piety lies

buried, but yet so close that scarce anyone can perceive it. In like manner the popes, the most

diligent of all others in gathering in the harvest of money, refer all their apostolical work to the

bishops, the bishops to the parsons, the parsons to the vicars, the vicars to their brother mendicants,

and they again throw back the care of the flock on those that take the wool.

But it is not my business to sift too narrowly the lives of prelates and priests for fear I seem to have

intended rather a satire than an oration, and be thought to tax good princes while I praise the bad.

And therefore, what I slightly taught before has been to no other end but that it might appear that

there’s no man can live pleasantly unless he be initiated to my rites and have me propitious to him.

For how can it be otherwise when Fortune, the great directress of all human affairs, and myself are

so all one that she was always an enemy to those wise men, and on the contrary so favorable to

fools and careless fellows that all things hit luckily to them?

You have heard of that Timotheus, the most fortunate general of the Athenians, of whom came that

proverb, “His net caught fish, though he were asleep;” and that “The owl flies;” whereas these

others hit properly, wise men “born in the fourth month;” and again, “He rides Sejanus’s his horse;”

and “gold of Toulouse,” signifying thereby the extremity of ill fortune. But I forbear the further

threading of proverbs, lest I seem to have pilfered my friend Erasmus’ adages. Fortune loves those

that have least wit and most confidence and such as like that saying of Caesar, “The die is thrown.”

But wisdom makes men bashful, which is the reason that those wise men have so little to do, unless

it be with poverty, hunger, and chimney corners; that they live such neglected, unknown, and hated

lives: whereas fools abound in money, have the chief commands in the commonwealth, and in a

word, flourish every way. For if it be happiness to please princes and to be conversant among those

golden and diamond gods, what is more unprofitable than wisdom, or what is it these kind of men

have, may more justly be censured? If wealth is to be got, how little good at it is that merchant like

to do, if following the precepts of wisdom, he should boggle at perjury; or being taken in a lie,

blush; or in the least regard the sad scruples of those wise men touching rapine and usury. Again,

if a man sue for honors or church preferments, an ass or wild ox shall sooner get them than a wise

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man. If a man’s in love with a young wench, none of the least humors in this comedy, they are

wholly addicted to fools and are afraid of a wise man and flee him as they would a scorpion. Lastly,

whoever intend to live merry and frolic, shut their doors against wise men and admit anything

sooner. In brief, go whither you will, among prelates, princes, judges, magistrates, friends, enemies,

from highest to lowest, and you’ll find all things done by money; which, as a wise man condemns

it, so it takes a special care not to come near him. What shall I say? There is no measure or end of

my praises, and yet ’tis fit my oration have an end. And therefore I’ll even break off; and yet, before

I do it, ’twill not be amiss if I briefly show you that there has not been wanting even great authors

that have made me famous, both by their writings and actions, lest perhaps otherwise I may seem

to have foolishly pleased myself only, or that the lawyers charge me that I have proved nothing.

After their example, therefore, will I allege my proofs, that is to say, nothing to the point.

And first, every man allows this proverb, “That where a man wants matter, he may best frame

some.” And to this purpose is that verse which we teach children, “ ’Tis the greatest wisdom to

know when and where to counterfeit the fool.” And now judge yourselves what an excellent thing

this folly is, whose very counterfeit and semblance only has got such praise from the learned. But

more candidly does that fat plump “Epicurean bacon-hog,” Horace, for so he calls himself, bid us

“mingle our purposes with folly;” and whereas he adds the word bravem, short, perhaps to help

out the verse, he might as well have let it alone; and again, “ ’Tis a pleasant thing to play the fool

in the right season;” and in another place, he had rather “be accounted a dotterel and sot than to be

wise and made mouths at.” And Telemachus in Homer, whom the poet praises so much, is now

and then called nepios, fool: and by the same name, as if there were some good fortune in it, are

the tragedians wont to call boys and striplings. And what does that sacred book of Iliads contain

but a kind of counter-scuffle between foolish kings and foolish people? Besides, how absolute is

that praise that Cicero gives of it! “All things are full of fools.” For who does not know that every

good, the more diffusive it is, by so much the better it is?

But perhaps their authority may be of small credit among Christians. We’ll therefore, if you please,

support our praises with some testimonies of Holy Writ also, in the first place, nevertheless, having

forespoke our theologians that they’ll give us leave to do it without offense. And in the next,

forasmuch as we attempt a matter of some difficulty and it may be perhaps a little too saucy to call

back again the Muses from Helicon to so great a journey, especially in a matter they are wholly

strangers to, it will be more suitable, perhaps, while I play the divine and make my way through

such prickly quiddities, that I entreat the soul of Scotus, a thing more bristly than either porcupine

or hedgehog, to leave his scorebone awhile and come into my breast, and then let him go whither

he pleases, or to the dogs. I could wish also that I might change my countenance, or that I had on

the square cap and the cassock, for fear some or other should impeach me of theft as if I had privily

rifled our masters’ desks in that I have got so much divinity. But it ought not to seem so strange if

after so long and intimate an acquaintance and converse with them I have picked up somewhat;

when as that fig-tree-god Priapus hearing his owner read certain Greek words took so much notice

of them that he got them by heart, and that cock in Lucian by having lived long among men became

at last a master of their language.

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In Praise of Folly

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