Bernard de Mandeville

[ The Man ] (1670-1733) was a native of Rotter dam, and the son of a physician who practised in that city. He studied medicine at Leyden, and came to England “to learn the language.” He did this with such effect that it was doubted if he were a foreigner. He practised medicine in London, and is known to fame by his celebrated book The Fable of the Bees , a miscellaneous work which includes “ The Grumbling Hive, or Knaves Turned Honest ; An Inquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue ; An E ay on Charity Schools ; and A Search into the Origin of Society .” When, in 1705, the country was agitated by the question as to the continuance of Marl borough’s war with France, Mandeville published his Grumbling Hive . All sorts of charges were being made against public officials; every form of corruption and dishonesty was freely charged on these persons, and it was in the midst of this agitation that Mandeville humorously maintained that “private vices are public benefits,”—that self-seeking, luxury, ambition, and greed are all nece ary to the greatne and prosperity of a nation. “Fools only strive to make a great and honest hive.” “The bees of his fable,” says Profe or Minto, “grumbled, as many English men were disposed to do,—cursed politicians, armies, fleets, whenever there came a reverse, and cried, ‘Had we but honesty!’” Jove, at last, in a pa ion, swore that he would “rid the canting hive of fraud,” and filled the hearts of the bees with honesty and all the virtues, strict justice, frugal living, contentment with little, acquiescence in the insults of enemies. Straightway the flourishing hive declined, till in time only a small remnant was left; this took refuge in a hollow tree, “blest with content and honesty,” but “destitute of arts and manufactures.” “He gives the name of virtue to every performance by which man, contrary to the impulse of nature, should endeavour the benefit of others, or the conquest of his own pa ions, out of a rational ambition of being good”; while everything which, without regard to the public, man should commit to gratify any of his appetites, is vice.” He finds self-love (a vice by the definition) masquerading in many virtuous disguises, lying at the root of asceticism, heroism, public spirit, decorous conduct,—at the root, in short, of all the actions that pa current as virtuous.” He taught that “the moral virtues are the political offspring which flattery begot upon pride.” Politicians and moralists have worked upon man to make him believe he is a sublime creature, and that self-indulgence makes him more akin to the brutes. In 1723 Mandeville applied his analysis of virtue in respect to the then fashionable institution of charity schools, and a great outcry was raised against his doctrines. His book was presented to the justices, the grand jury of Middle sex, and a copy was ordered to be burned by the common hangman. It is probable that Mandeville was not serious in all he wrote; much of his writings must be considered merely as a political jeu d’esprit . His was an age of speculation upon ethical questions, and a humorous foreigner could not but be moved to satirise English methods, which are frequently peculiarly open to this kind of attack. [ The Poem. ] ( Parley ings with Certain People of Importance in their Day : London, 1887.) The sketch of Mandeville’s opinion given above will afford a key to the drift of Mr. Browning’s poem. His aim is to point out the great truths which, on a careful examination, will be found to underlie much of the old philosopher’s paradoxical teaching; not as understood by fools, he says, but by those who let down their sounding line below the turbid surface to the still depths where evil harmoniously combines with good, Mandeville’s teaching is worthy of examination. We must take life as we find it, ever remembering that law deals the same with soul and body; life’s rule is short, infancy’s probation is nece ary to bodily development; and we might as well expect a new-born infant to start up strong, as the soul to stand in its full-statured magnificence without the nece ary faculty of growth. Law deals with body as with soul. Both, stung to strength through weakne , strive for good through evil. And all the while the proce lasts men complain that “no sign, no stirring of God’s finger,” indicates His preference for either. Never promptly and beyond mistake has God interposed between oppre ion and its victim. But suppose the Gardener of mankind has a definite purpose in view when he plants evil side by side with good? How do we know that every growth of good is not consequent on evil’s neighbourhood? As it is certain that the garden was planted by intelligence, would not the sudden and complete eradication of evil repeal a primal law of the all-understanding Gardener? “But,” retorts the objector, “suppose these ill weeds were interspersed by an enemy?” Man’s faculty avails not to see the whole sight. When we examine the plan of an estate, we do not ask where is the roof of the house—where the door, the window. We do not seek a thing’s solid self in its symbol: looking at Orion on a starry night, who asks to see the man’s flesh in the star-points? If it be objected that we have no need of symbols, and that we should be better taught by facts, it is answered that a myth may teach. The rising sun thrills earth to the very heart of things; creation acknowledges its life-giving impulse and murmurs not, but, unquestioning, uses the invigorating beams. Is man alone to wait till he comprehends the sun’s self to realise the energy that floods the universe? Pro me the us drew the sun’s rays into a focus, and made fire do man service. Thus to utilise the sun’s influence was better than striving to follow beam and beam upon their way, till we faint in our endeavour to gue their infinitude of action. The teaching of the poem is, that to make the best use of the world as we find it, is wiser than torturing our brains to comprehend mysteries which by their nature and our own weakne are insoluble.