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Preface
Erasmus of Rotterdam to his Friend Thomas More, Health:
AS I WAS COMING awhile since out of Italy for England, that I might
not waste all that time I was to sit on horseback in foolish and
illiterate fables, I chose rather one while to revolve with myself
something of our common studies, and other while to enjoy the
remembrance of my friends, of whom I left here some no less learned
than pleasant. Among these you, my More, came first in my mind,
whose memory, though absent yourself, gives me such delight in my
absence, as when present with you I ever found in your company; than
which, let me perish if in all my life I ever met with anything more
delectable. And therefore, being satisfied that something was to be
done, and that that time was no wise proper for any serious matter,
I resolved to make some sport with the praise of folly. But who the
devil put that in your head? you'll say. The first thing was your
surname of More, which comes so near the word Moriae (folly) as you
are far from the thing. And that you are so, all the world will
clear you.
In the next place, I conceived this exercise of wit would
not be least approved by you; inasmuch as you are wont to be delighted
with such kind of mirth, that is to say, neither unlearned, if I am
not mistaken, nor altogether insipid, and in the whole course of
your life have played the part of a Democritus. And though such is the
excellence of your judgment that it was ever contrary to that of the
people's, yet such is your incredible affability and sweetness of
temper that you both can and delight to carry yourself to all men a
man of all hours. Wherefore you will not only with good will accept
this small declamation, but take upon you the defense of it, for as
much as being dedicated to you, it is now no longer mine but yours.
But perhaps there will not be wanting some wranglers that may cavil
and charge me, partly that these toys are lighter than may become a
divine, and partly more biting than may beseem the modesty of a
Christian, and consequently exclaim that I resemble the ancient
comedy, or another Lucian, and snarl at everything. But I would have
them whom the lightness or foolery of the argument may offend to
consider that mine is not the first of this kind, but the same thing
that has been often practiced even by great authors: when Homer, so
many ages since, did the like with the battle of frogs and mice;
Virgil, with the gnat and puddings; Ovid, with the nut; when
Polycrates and his corrector Isocrates extolled tyranny; Glauco,
injustice; Favorinus, deformity and the quartan ague; Synescius,
baldness; Lucian, the fly and flattery; when Seneca made such sport
with Claudius' canonizations; Plutarch, with his dialogue between
Ulysses and Gryllus; Lucian and Apuleius, with the ass; and some
other, I know not who, with the hog that made his last will and
testament, of which also even St. Jerome makes mention.
And
therefore if they please, let them suppose I played at tables for my
diversion, or if they had rather have it so, that I rode on a
hobbyhorse. For what injustice is it that when we allow every course
of life its recreation, that study only should have none? Especially
when such toys are not without their serious matter, and foolery is so
handled that the reader that is not altogether thick-skulled may
reap more benefit from it than from some men's crabbish and specious
arguments. As when one, with long study and great pains, patches
many pieces together on the praise of rhetoric or philosophy;
another makes a panegyric to a prince; another encourages him to a war
against the Turks; another tells you what will become of the world
after himself is dead; and another finds out some new device for the
better ordering of goat's wool: for as nothing is more trifling than
to treat of serious matters triflingly, so nothing carries a better
grace than so to discourse of trifles as a man may seem to have
intended them least. For my own part, let other men judge of what I
have written; though yet, unless an overweening opinion of myself
may have made me blind in my own cause, I have praised folly, but
not altogether foolishly.
And now to say somewhat to that other cavil,
of biting. This liberty was ever permitted to all men's wits, to
make their smart, witty reflections on the common errors of mankind,
and that too without offense, as long as this liberty does not run
into licentiousness; which makes me the more admire the tender ears of
the men of this age, that can away with solemn titles. No, you'll meet
with some so preposterously religious that they will sooner endure the
broadest scoffs even against Christ himself than hear the Pope or a
prince be touched in the least, especially if it be anything that
concerns their profit; whereas he that so taxes the lives of men,
without naming anyone in particular, whither, I pray, may he be said
to bite, or rather to teach and admonish? Or otherwise, I beseech you,
under how many notions do I tax myself? Besides, he that spares no
sort of men cannot be said to be angry with anyone in particular,
but the vices of all. And therefore, if there shall happen to be
anyone that shall say he is hit, he will but discover either his guilt
or fear. Saint Jerome sported in this kind with more freedom and
greater sharpness, not sparing sometimes men's very name. But I,
besides that I have wholly avoided it, I have so moderated my style
that the understanding reader will easily perceive my endeavors herein
were rather to make mirth than bite. Nor have I, after the example
of Juvenal, raked up that forgotten sink of filth and ribaldry, but
laid before you things rather ridiculous than dishonest. And now, if
there be anyone that is yet dissatisfied, let him at least remember
that it is no dishonor to be discommended by Folly; and having brought
her in speaking, it was but fit that I kept up the character of the
person. But why do I run over these things to you, a person so
excellent an advocate that no man better defends his client, though
the cause many times be none of the best? Farewell, my best
disputant More, and stoutly defend your Moriae.
From the country,
the 5th of the Ides of June.
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