TO THE OBJECTION, THAT THE MIRTH WHICH WINE INSPIRES IS
CHIMERICAL.

It will be objected, without doubt, that the mirth which wine inspires
is imaginary, and without any foundation, and that, as Boileau has it,

"Rien n'est beau que le vrai. Le vrai seul est aimable."

Nothing so beautiful as what is true,
That it is only lovely is its due.

I very willingly own, that this joy and mirth is nothing else than the
effect of our imagination.

Full well I'm satisfied 'tis nothing all
But a deceitful hope, less solid far,
A thousand times, than is the moving sand;
But are not all things so with wretched man?
All things soon pass away like rapid streams
Which hasten to the sea, where lost for ever
In th' ocean's vast abyss unknown they lie.
Our wisest wishes and desires are vain,
Abstracted vanities, gay painted bubbles,
That break when touch'd, and vanish into air.
Love, wisdom, knowledge, riches, phantoms all.

But before we thoroughly refute this objection, I shall observe by the
way, that errors and illusions are necessary to the world. "[1]In
general, indeed, it is true to say, that the world, as it is now, cannot
keep itself in the same condition, were not men full of a thousand false
prejudices and unreasonable passions; and if philosophy went about to
make men act according to the clear and distinct ideas of reason, we
might, perhaps, be satisfied, that mankind would quickly be at an end.
Errors, passions, prejudices, and a hundred other the like faults, are
as a necessary evil to the world. Men would be worth nothing for this
world, were they cured, and the greatest part of the things which now
take up our time, would be useless, as Quintilian well knew, namely,
eloquence.

Things are in this condition, and will not easily change, and we may
wait long enough for such a happy revolution, before we shall be able to
say, with Virgil,

"Magnus ab integro saeculorum nascitur ordo."[1a]

A series long of ages now appear,
Entirely new to man, before unknown.

On the other hand, "[2]If you take away from man every thing that is
chimerical, what pleasure will you leave him? Pleasures are not things
so solid, as to permit us to search them to the bottom; one must only
just touch them and away. They resemble boggy and moorish ground, we
must run lightly over them, without ever letting our feet make the least
impression."

No, wheresoe'er we turn our wishing eye,