Self-love, Pride, and Vain-glory, cæcus amor sui, which Chrysostome cals one of the devils three great nets; Bernard, an arrow which pierceth the soul through, and slayes it; a slie insensible enemy, not perceived, are maine causes.
Where neither anger, lust, covetousness, fear, sorrow, &c. nor any other perturbation can lay hold; this will slily and insensibly pervert us, Quem non gula vicit, Philautia superavit, (saith Cyprian) whom surfetting could not overtake Self-love hath overcome. He hath scorned all money, bribes, gifts, upright otherwise and sincere, hath inserted himself to no fond Imagination, and sustained all those tyrannical concupiscences of the body, hath lost all his honor, captivated by vain-glory. Chrysostom sup. Io. Tu sola animum mentemque peruris, gloria.
A great assault and cause of our present malady, although we do most part neglect, take no notice of it, yet this is a violent batterer of our souls, causeth melancholy and dotage. This pleasing humor, this soft and whispering popular aire, Amabilis insania, this delectable Frensie, most irrefragable passion, Mentis gratissimus error, this acceptable disease, which so sweetly sets upon us, ravisheth our senses, lulls our souls asleep, puffes up our hearts as so many bladders, and that without all feeling, in so much as those that are misaffected with it, never so much as once perceive it, or think of any cure.
We commonly love him best in this malady, that doth us most harm, and are very willing to be hurt; adulationibus nostris libenter favemus (saith Jerom) we love him, we love him for it: O Bonciari suave, suave fuit à te tali hæc tribui! ’Twas sweet to hear it.
And as Pliny doth ingenuously confess to his dear friend Augurinus, all thy writings are most acceptable, but those especially that speak of us. Again, a little after to Maximus, I cannot express how pleasing it is to me to hear my self commended.
Though we smile to our selves, at least Ironically, when Parasites bedawb us with false Encomions, as many Princes cannot chuse but do, Quum tale quid nihil intra se repererint, when they know they come as far short, as a Mouse to an Elephant, of any such vertues; yet it doth us good. Though we seem many times to be angry, and blush at our own praises, yet our soules inwardly rejoyce, it puffes us up; ’tis fallax suavitas, blandus dæmon, makes us swell beyond our bounds, and forget our selves.
Her two daughters are lightness of minde, immoderate joy and pride, not excluding those other concomitant vices, which Iodocus Lorichius reckons up; Bragging, Hypocrisie, Peevishness, and curiosity.
Now the common cause of this mischief, ariseth from our selves or others, we are active and passive. It proceeds inwardly from our selves, as we are active causes, from an over-weening conceit we have of our good parts, own worth, (which indeed is no worth) our bounty, favor, grace, valor, strength, wealth, patience, meekness, hospitality, beauty, temperance, gentry, knowledg, wit, science, art, learning, our excellent gifts and fortunes, for which Narcissus like, we admire, flatter, and applaud our selves, and think all the world esteems so of us; and as deformed women, easily beleeve those that tell them they be fair, we are too credulous of our own good parts and praises, too well perswaded of our selves.
We brag and venditate our own works, and scorn all others in respect of us: Inflati scientia (saith Paul) our wisdom, our learning; all our geese are swans, and we as basely esteem and vilifie other mens, as we do over-highly prize and value our own. We will not suffer them to be in secundis, no not in tertiis: what, Mecum confertur Ulisses? they are Mures, Muscæ, culices præ se, nitts and flies compared to his inexorable and supercilious, eminent and arrogant worship: Though indeed they be far before him.
Onely wise, onely rich, onely fortunate, valorous, and fair, puffed up with this Timpany of self-conceit; as that proud Pharisee, they are not (as they suppose) like other men, of a purer and more precious mettal: Soli rei gerendi sunt efficaces, which that wise Periander held of such: meditantur omne qui prius negotium, &c.
Novi quendam (saith Erasmus) I knew one so arrogant that he thought himself inferiour to no man living, like Callisthenes the Philosopher, that neither held Alexanders acts, or any other subject worthy of his Pen, such was his insolency; or Seleucus King of Syria, who thought none fit to contend with him but the Romans, Eos solos dignos ratus quibuscum de imperio certaret.
That which Tully writ to Atticus long since, is still in force, There was never yet true Poet nor Orator, that thought any other better then himself. And such for the most part are your Princes, Potentates, great Philosophers, Historiographers, Authors of Sects or Heresies, and all our great Scholars, as Hierom defines; A natural Philosopher is a glorious creature, and a very slave of rumor, fame, and popular opinion, and though they write de contemptu gloriæ, yet as he observes, they will put their names to their books.