A45166	----	Characters of vertue and vice described in the persons of the wise-man, the valiant man ... attempted in verse from a treatise of the reverend Joseph Hall, late lord bishop of Exeter / by N. Tate. Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715. 1691 Approx. 35 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 19 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A45166 Wing H372 ESTC R3871 11953770 ocm 11953770 51485 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A45166) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 51485) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 815:17) Characters of vertue and vice described in the persons of the wise-man, the valiant man ... attempted in verse from a treatise of the reverend Joseph Hall, late lord bishop of Exeter / by N. Tate. Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715. Hall, Joseph, 1574-1656. Characters of vertues and vices. [4], 32 p. Printed for Francis Saunders ..., London : 1691. Reproduction of original in Duke University Library. Bishop Hall's "Characters of vertues and vices" was published in 1608. Tate here paraphrases 10 of Hall's 26 "characters". Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Characters and characteristics. Virtue -- Early works to 1800. Vice -- Early works to 1800. 2002-02 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2002-03 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-04 TCP Staff (Michigan) Sampled and proofread 2002-04 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-05 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion CHARACTERS OF VERTUE and VICE . Describ'd in the Persons of The Wise-Man , The Valiant Man , The truly Noble , The Patient Man , The true Friend , The Hypocrite , The Superstitious , The Profane , The Busy-Body , The Envious . Attempted in Verse FROM A TREATISE OF THE Reverend IOSEPH HALL , Late Lord Bishop of Exeter . By N. TATE . LONDON , Printed for Francis Saunders , at the Blue-Anchor , in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange , 1691. PREFACE . THE Representing of Vertue and Vice in their respective Beauties and Deformities , is the genuine Task of Poetry : the true and proper Themes of Panegyrick and Satyr . The giving Precepts of Morality was originally the Employment of the Muses , and establish'd their first Reputation . Few Poets have excell'd who merited not the Character ascrib'd by Horace to Homer : Qui quid sit pulchrum , quid turpe , quid utile , quid non , Pleniùs ac meliùs Chrysippo & Crantore dicit . It was for useful Prescriptions of Politie and Private Life , that Orpheus and Amphion were celebrated , and the Faculty it self reputed Sacred : Sic Honor & Nomen divinis Vatibus atque Carminibus venit . If the Virgil's and Horace's of our Age could have been prevail'd with to have Adorn'd the following Subjects , it had sav'd my imperfect Performance . But I could not refuse the Temptation , when it was propos'd to me to proceed upon the Hints and Groundwork of a Treatise Written by the Ingenious and Learned D r Hall , Bishop of Exeter ; by which means my Reader would be secure of good Sense in the Version . If I have added no Grains , I hope that , at least , I have lost nothing of the Oar in Melting it down . The Character of some Vices will naturally run into Humour , requiring Instances and Expressions that are Familiar , and Sermoni propiora . In a word , I am sufficiently sensible of my Imperfections in this Essay , but Comfort my self with the Hopes that abler Performers may be incited , in meer Compassion , to Rescue such worthy Subjects from so ill Hands . THE MAN of WISDOM . THE Man that 's Wise to Know All Things aspires , But First the Knowledge of Himself desires : How far the Compass of his Strength can go ; But his own Weakness studdies most to know . He Reasons more by Practice than by Rule ; His Logick's learnt in Observation 's School . Taught by Experience truly to reflect , Can First Himself and then his Friends direct . He ne'er suspends but in a doubtful Case ; Ne'er doubts where Resolution should take place . Of ev'ry needful Thing just Care do's take , But most concern'd for his immortal stake . Without that scope counts fruitless each endeavour , Nor would be Happy Once , if not for ever . Himself best Knowing best Himself can Trust , Others so far as He has prov'd them Just. The World may Him deceive but ne'er Abuse , Who Trusts no more than He can bear to lose . While close Retirement is to Him a Skreen , Himself looks through and sees the World , Unseen : Yet shews , when forc'd the Day-light to abide , Prudence , not Affectation , made him hide . Does never , Causeless , from his purpose Range , When Reason calls , He never fears to Change. While th' ablest Master He 's allow'd to be , No Scholar more dispos'd to learn than He. From ev'ry Thing Instruction He can draw , And from Him each Instruction is a Law. To Ages past his nimble Thoughts can Climb , In Things to come prevent the speed of Time. Unborn Events by past Events forestall , And in Conjecture be Prophetical . His Passions He ne'er suffers to Rebel , Or hastens their first Mutiny to Quell . By Honour's Light in all his Projects sails , And Boards a second when a former fails . Makes Disappointment but improve his skill , And fetches Strength from what succeeded ill . Some Wrongs He sees not but with silent Art , Dissembles Wounds too pow'rful Foes impart . Loves to owe less in good turns than He may , For Bad wou'd be in Debt and never pay . Censures , Unjust or Just , alike to Him ; Those He Deserves not , These he can Contemn . Slights Scandal , lays no violent Hands on Blame , Gives Slander scope till it expire with Shame . His Joy no Fears , his Hope knows no Despairs , Safe in the Circle of his own Affairs . From others strife he timely do's Retire , Nor thrusts his Hand into a needless Fire . He best the Purchase of his Wit can tell , And how to Value , Keep and Use it well . Himself his own best Lawyer , and his skill , His readiest and most faithful Oracle . Consulted , He 's in no Man's Business Blind , But in his Own of more than Eagle-kind . THE VALIANT MAN. BOld without Rashness , without Fury , Warm : He long Consults , but do's with speed perform . He seeks not Dangers : when on Him they press , He bears 'em down with Courage and Success . Arm'd Death Enthron'd on Slaughter He can spy , March on , and with a scornful smile pass by . Forecasts the worst Events , and in his Thought , Before one stroke Exchang'd , the Battle 's fought . If unexpected Ills his Heart surprize , One Minute to disperse 'em will suffice : With instant Sally he prevents the Blow , And turns Amazement back upon the Foe . Ne'er seen to fly , but from some foul Offence , And fears no Strength below Omnipotence . Peace he wou'd chuse , and when the Sword he draws , He looks not on his Hand but on his Cause . Nor weighs what Succors wait to take his Part , How strong his Arm , but Innocent his Heart . O'erpower'd may fall , with numbers Vanquisht be , And leave the Foe to Blush at Victory . Call'd out by Honour to some bold Attacque , His Hearts Blood may be seen , but ne'er his Back . On base Conditions he disdains to Live , And what he asks , would to the Vanquish'd give . Ne'er known the Blood of Innocents to shed , On Carcases , or suppliant Foes to tread ; He 'll rather stifle Wrongs he might Resent , Than take Revenge upon the Impotent . Nor can determine which he 'd rather be , Of Cowardice impeach'd , or Cruelty . His sparing Words no room for Boast affords , His readiest Language is , his Hand and Sword. By Action heard , whose never-ceasing Force , Keeps every Talker furnish'd with Discourse . Not idlely Prodigal of Life or Blood , But sparing neither for his Countrey 's good . While Fate does noble Means of Life supply , He Lives ; but those refus'd , can bravely Dye . His Pow'r ( to which his Reason still gives Laws , ) It 's Right Confest , the Exercise withdraws . Thinks he does then the greatest Triumph gain , When He can Hurt , yet from Revenge abstain . Without Servility He can Obey , And in Command no Tyranny Display . He Courts not Fortune's Smiles , nor fears her Hate , Nor can she change his Mind with his Estate . That his high Spirit still o'erlooks Mischance , Springs not from Senselesness nor Ignorance ; But th' utmost Pow'r of Fate computing first , He knows her strength , and bids her do her worst . In Purpose Cool , in Resolution Fir'd , In Enterprizes , Daring and Untir'd ; Glorious , though not successful in Design , And when o'ercome , His Heart does last Resign . THE TRULY NOBLE . ADvantages of Ancestry and Birth , He counts but Fortune's Gift , and borrow'd Worth : What he atchieves he only calls Renown , And Honour purchas'd by Himself , his Own. If short his Glory's Estimate be found Of what his noble Ancestors had Crown'd , The bright Inheritance but proves his Shame ; Not Rais'd , but Burthen'd by Descended Fame . No Greatness makes him Scorn or Pride express , Still Higher rais'd he still wou'd seem the less . Life from his Soul as soon divorc'd may be , As from his Manners Native Courtesy : Which for no servile or ambitious end Of popular Applause he does extend , But from the genuine Sweetness of his Frame , And noble Justice to Himself and Fame . His Hand is open , yet his Glory still Is govern'd by his Fortune not his Will. And wisely bounteous can distinguish right , Betwixt a Friend and fawning Parasite . Most Men their Favours sell , exchange , or lend , He only does his Kindnesses expend . He wou'd no Licence from his Greatness gain , And without Goodness counts his Titles vain . From Pow'r no Priv'lege claims to be Unjust , Nor makes Prerogative a Bawd to Lust ; Conscience and Honour both his Actions bind , By Eminence to stricter Laws confin'd . Each Vertue has it's Ornament and Use In his just Notion , and no Vice Excuse . He no Man Guilty makes to make him Great , And ev'n his Creatures with Respect can treat . Oblige , yet not on Liberty intrude , Or turn Dependance into Servitude . He seeks no forg'd Pretence , without Reward An old and worn-out Servant to Discard : Their Duty , Faith , and Diligence to bind The Sweetness of his Service makes 'em find . For Him , no Vassals can their Toil repent , Their Industry's not Lost , but only Lent. The Difference 'twixt his Wealth and Honour , is , That , in Receiving stands , in Giving , This. He 'll be oblig'd to Few ; but does not care How large the Number that his Favours share . Asks who wants most , not who can best Repay ; And ne'er Repines at Favours cast away . Can Constancy in all Estates express , Himself a-like to Peace and War address . Then , most his Countreys Servant he is found , When she to his Command has set no bound . More pleas'd true Worship to his God to give , Than civil Honours from Mankind receive . For Fame , relies not on the World's Applause , But what from Heav'n it 's Approbation draws . Of true Nobility conceives this Sense , The Blood its Body only to dispense ; The Soul derives from Vertue 's Eminence . Descended Honours He reputes to cease , Unless his nobler Deeds the Tale encrease , That Glory does admit no Careless Heir , And not t' improve the Stock is to Impair . THE PATIENT MAN. THE Patient Man has so much strength attain'd , And o'er Himself so large a Conquest gain'd , That safe from Foreign Wrongs he does remain ; They came too late to Conquer him again . Boldly to Suffer , is his Valour 's Test , He 's most Victorious when He 's most opprest . While under Mountain-Loads himself he rears , Of more than humane Courage he appears , And is , if rightly we his Sufferings scan , 'Bove Nature rais'd while He seems less than Man. His Love and Charity are ever bent To construe all things with a fair Intent . To small and doubtful Injuries He 's blind , Gross Wrongs he 'll think not done , or not design'd ; Not meant , or not to Him ; if Both appear , From Malice still his Injuries He 'll clear ; He 'll say Mis-information caus'd th' offence , And when it cannot bear so mild a sense , Call 't Rash , and with the hasty Fault dispense . Patient he is , but yet not tame or base : He wants not Courage but abounds in Grace . To take Revenge for Harms , as Man He dares ; Resents as Man , but as a Christian spares . He 's God's best Witness , and before the Bar For Truths fair sake , undaunted can appear ; Hear unconcern'd the false Accuser's Voice , Receive , and in his Unjust doom Rejoice . A Prison is his Palace , and to Him Pages of Honour all his Jaylors seem , The Dungeon his Retiring Room he counts , And to the Rack as to a Throne He mounts ; His Torturers worst Cruelty disdains , Suffers his Own , and baffles all their Pains . Just Pity the Beholders does inspire , Unpitying and remorseless Foes , Admire . His Hopes to no Discouragements can yield , They still advance , or keep at least the Field . Where once the Path of Kindness He has trod , No Obstacles can make him quit the Road. If no Impression his first Favours make , He still redoubles till he wins the stake . Can after Shipwrack try the Sea , and beat At the deaf door he ne'er saw open'd yet . Different Events alike to Him befal , He sees the Hand of Providence in All. When that Protects , he pays his grateful Vows , And when it strikes , to just Correction Bows . Can Vertue from Necessity produce , And with strange , Art put Evil to good Use. In Conquest does beyond the Warriour go , The surest Friend , the latest easiest Foe : Than others so much Happier does appear , As He can more and worse Mis-fortunes bear . THE TRUE FRIEND . UNited , yet divided is his Breast ; Half by Himself , All by his Friend possest . His Choice by Sympathy of Souls is bred , By Worth and Vertue , not by Int'rest led . He pays Affection 'cause the Debt is just , And Loves because he ought , because he must . Contracts with Caution , and considers long , But once Agreed , no Bargain is more strong . He chuses so as He may ne'er complain , Like one that never meant to chuse again . And e'er his Love can vary one Degree , His Friend Quite alter'd from Himself must be : Let just occasion his submission move , A Servant to his Equal He can prove . To serve Him condescends with greater joy , Than his Inferiour's Service to employ . Advanc'd to Pow'r his Friendship still is found In it's old Garb , familiar , plain , and sound . For his Friend's sake with Honours he complies , Yields to be Great to help his Friend to Rise . His Friend expir'd , His Self 's but half alive , His Friendship only do's his Friend survive . Death to his Love no Dissolution brings , It but divides the Stream to sundry Springs . For now the tender Orphans , left too young To know their Father's Worth , to Him belong ; Adopted His , the Burden of his Cares , His Heart 's near Kin , and his Affections Heirs . He 's so much stricter , and more nicely just , For having lost the Witness of his Trust. Where Honesty or Nature can comply , He grants a frank and full Community . To Friendship 's Entrance leaves an open Field Without Reserves , but what were Sin to yield . No longer can enjoy that thing whose use He thinks would more to his Friend 's Good conduce . His Charity does still a Cloak provide Of Secrecy , his Friend's Defects to hide . Much by Concealment from the Publick View , By close Reproof more proves his Friendship true . And when the watchful Kindness of his Friend Finds just occasion him to reprehend , He thanks his frank Chastiser on that score , More loves him as he makes him smart the more . To Him as to the Closet of his Cares , With Doubts , Complaints , his wellcome Friend repairs ; Unburdens there the secrets of his Mind , Leaves all lock'd up , and as he leaves may find . Let grief at once his Friend and him surround , His sense still quickest for his Friend is found ; Bleeds in his own , but smarts in his Friend's Wound . No Hour's unseasonable , no Pains displease , No Cost can grievous seem to give him Ease . No Envious Lookers on can baulk his Zeal , But what He does He rather wou'd conceal , Best pleas'd when a good Office he can steal . Favours Receiv'd , in Memory's Book he sets , What He bestow's as zealously forgets . He 's Sorrow's Comfort , Difficulty's Guide , The Joy of Life , Earth's Treasure , and its Pride ; An Angel Cloath'd in Flesh , and near to God Ally'd . The End of the Characters on Vertue . THE HYPOCRITE . THE Hypocrite to sadness can convert His looks , while Mirth is Rev'lling in his Heart , Then Jugler-like with Pleasure does retreat , To think how smoothly he has pass'd the Cheat. How with false stamps of Vertue on his Face , The Miscreant passes for a Babe of Grace . With early Patience waits at the Church Door , And e'er half enter'd he salutes the Floor , But still observing with a transvers'd Eye , What Passenger does his Devotion spy . If Cognizance to take He none perceives , Ftets inward , and at his lost labour grieves . Looks round with Admiration on the Crowd ; Of frozen Charity complains aloud . Takes care to have his Pew plac'd best in sight , In hast plucks forth his Tables as to write Some Sermon-Note , mean while does only scrawl , Forgotten Errands there , or nought at all : Then with a Noise whisks his Boss'd Bible o'er , Where He for some Quotation seems to pore ; And glancing from one Chapter to a next , Folds down the Leaf as He had found the Text. Enquires the Preacher's Name , stays last i' th' Church , To con him Thanks , and waits him to the Porch . When of his Youth he speaks , his Tears flow fast ; Not for his Youth's Sins , but because 't is Past. His lesser Vices frankly are confest , All but the reigning Belial of his Breast . Gives publick Alms , and those but when he must , Nor without Witness God Himself will trust . With Usuries , Superfluity he gilds Extortion , and an Hospital he builds . And thinks th' Injustice largely is repaid , To keep ten Beggars for ten thousand made . From Flesh on Friday with a greater Dread He does Abstain than from his Neighbour's Bed. To swear by God's Name rather will allow , Than at the Name of Jesus not to Bow. To Him when Fustian Poet reads his stuff , He begs a Copy , cryes 't is Censure-Proof . Finds nothing that 's amiss while th' Authour stays , And nothing , when the Fop's withdrawn , to Praise . By his Step-Mothers Sick-Bed he can Weep , Wish her sound Rest , that is , Eternal Sleep . I' th' Street he greets his Friend with chearful Eyes , And hugging Close , when will you come ? He cries . But Curses Him in 's Heart if he complies . Small Fare affords , yet ev'n that small does grutch , Close-frowning on his Wife , that 't is so much . For what He seems and says , He well might pass , Himself 's the very worst Thing that He has . His Neighbours Nuissance , and the Strangers Saint ; Or in a Word , his Character to Paint , Angel Abroad , at Home a Spirit evil , And when an Angel worse than when a Devil . THE SUPERSTITIOUS . WHat Monster , Superstition , is like Thee , Thou Godless Zeal , devout Impiety . The Superstitious Wight is Folly's Heir , Fond in observance , servile in his Fear . He worships God but as He lists ; in what Is not Requir'd , He 'll supererogate . Give more , give All , except what God demands , And makes more Duties than the Ten Commands . Till Cross'd and sprinkl'd dares not stir abroad , Comes back if but a Hare run thwart his Road. If he but trips at Door , or on his Way , But recollects it was no lucky Day Of setting out , ( though All 's Estate depend ) Turns back in sight of his long Journey 's End. If Salt fall tow'rds Him he looks pale and red , Stares as the House were tumbling on his Head. Nor can recover Breath till that mis-hap Be purg'd by shedding Wine into his Lap. If he but sneeze , his Eyes around he sends , Thinks them who don 't Uncover , not his Friends . To judge the Weather walks betimes abroad , And Hearks if Even the Crow cry , or Odd. If but a Raven Croak in Dead of Night , He makes his Will as he had heard a spright . Or if a Dream shall in his Brains Ferment , A Garden , or departed Friend present ; His Senses are into Confusion hurl'd , Bespeaks his Coffin , and takes leave o' th' World. On such Days only He 'll set out by Water , Nor for the World without his Erra Pater . St. Paul's Day for his Oracle does take , And Swythin's is his surest Almanack . No Sin afflicts him on his Dying Bed , But having once of Flesh on Friday fed . He thinks the Rest can no Repentance need , And no Repentance can for That succeed . His Dreams , for sure Predictions must avail , And if th' Event his Exposition fail ; His Wits are then on new solutions bent , And He Expounds according to th' Event . Old Wives and Stars are all his Councellors , For Recipe's 'gainst Sickness , Charms he wears ; For Tooth-Ach Paracelsian Characters . Impossibilities the credulous Elf Calls Miracles , and streins to cheat Himself . Let him but hear that in a distant soil , Some sacred Block does speak , move , weep , or smile ; He Bare-foot hies his Off'ring there to pay , And if a Danger miss him in the way ; If he but scape the muting of a Crow , The Timber-Saint a Miracle did show . Some Roads He Baulks , for Goblins there he feigns , Each Lanthorn's Will o' th' Wisp , and ev'ry Noise of Chains . His Custom ( for what Cause he ne'er cou'd know ) Is , with some little Compass still to go ; Here to pass Nimbly , There to make a stand , And ever leave the Cross on his Right Hand . His Method has no Reason ; yet no Force Threats nor Entreaties make him change his Course . If he have thum'd his Beads , and pray'd his Tale , He 's safe enough ; it matters not for Zeal . And lastly , with Respect to Heav'n , might He The Carver of his Own Obedience be , God never cou'd a better Servant have , But , as He is , has no perverser Slave . THE PROFANE . IN mad extreams the superstitious own Too many Gods , but the Profane has none : Unless himself his Deity he make , And for his fanci'd Heaven , the World does take . He breaths and moves , but to Religion Dead , All sense of Fear , of Love , or Care is fled . His Heart without Impression does remain , Tir'd Conscience there repeats her strokes in Vain . Custom of Sin this Senselessness has wrought , Inur'd , and to the Anvils Hardness brought . Long rooted Vice admits of no Redress , He pleads Prescription now for Wickedness . ( By slow ascents these impious Heights we gain , Are sinful Born , but make our selves Profane : ) Through Carelessness his Vicious Course begins , He Sins at last , and knows not that he Sins . Reason too late her Counsel wou'd afford ; She 's now his Slave , and Appetite his Lord. Sense is his only Creed ; if so it chance , That Piety his Int'rest may advance ; A Cloak of Sanctity he can provide , And what he Counterfeits at once deride . Does Sacrifice to 's Nets : when Projects hit , He either thanks his Fortune , or his Wit ; But Providence must nought have there to do , He 'll rather make false Gods than own the True. When ought miscarries , destinies to blame , On Heav'ns Unkindness He does then exclaim . Reviles the Pow'r , to whose Indulgent sway He wou'd not be beholden if he may . Oft-times his Conscience fain with Him wou'd speak , He sets the Day , but does th' Appointment break . And when aloud she does for Audience cry , He drowns the Noise with Rev'ling Company . God's Name does never but in Oaths express , And never thinks of him but in Distress : And then his Thoughts in dark Confusion sink , Cause He but then begins of him to Think . His Maker He 'll accuse himself to free , And charges all his Guilt on God's Decree . Ingratefully thinks his Condition hard , To be from Pleasures poyson'd Sweets debarr'd . Does Goodness , Minstrel-like , for sport bring forth , And sacred Things are still his choicest Mirth . To Mimickry turns Grace , and Vertue 's Rules , And best diverted with Religion's Fools . A Slander for each Vertue can invent , And in false Colours ev'ry Vice present . He boasts of his young Sins , and past offence , With cold Remembrance feeds his Impotence . Enormous Crimes the Libertine has wrought , Ambitious , yet more wicked to be Thought . A Lewder than Himself can grieve to see , And in Damnation grudge Precedency . Hell does in Him less fear than Death create , As being sure of This , and doubting That . To th' Church as to a Theater resort , For Custom , Company , for Sleep , or Sport. Self-Love is All He ever Understood , Nor that enough to seek his own true Good. He breaks through Gratitude and Friendship 's Ties , Nor cares on whom he treads , so he may Rise . His Life does one licentious Practice seem , And ev'ry Vice its Centre has in Him. God's Hatred , and his Curse ; a Mass of Evil , In Body only diff'ring from a Devil . THE BUSY-BODY . HIS own Estate 's too narrow for his Mind , And Room in other Men's Affairs He 'll find . In Friend and Strangers Business He will move , And ever with the same Pretence of Love. No News can pass his Door , and , good or ill , He cannot know the Thing he does not tell . He knows the Rates of Traffique to a Hair , What Forces the Confederates can prepare , How Swedeland , and how Denmark will declare . Though Trav'ling on Affairs of Life and Death , He 'll stop the Post , and Talk him out of Breath . And if his Humour , or his Hast Refuse , Ride back with him , and piece-meal catch the News . And if through Speed th' Intelligence does fail , His Wit Supplies , and makes a perfect Tale. Then Woe to the next Man that He comes near , Blow , Rain , or Lighten , he must stay to hear ; And hear him out , while in a tedious round , The Listner and Himself he does Confound . Disjointedly each Sentence does express , With long Successions of Parentheses . Retrencht , to let his stream of Matter run , But Vows to fill 'em up e'er He has done . If two together in the street He views Discoursing closely , He concludes strange News . But if a Letter be produc'd , He 's charm'd , And of the Secret begs to be inform'd . Deny'd , it serves his Turn almost as well , If Him of Wonders they 'll permit to tell . Then with a Scotish Mine he does begin , Of a whole Shoal of Whales come up at Linn . Thank Him , a thousand Times your Thanks repeat , All 's One , his Tongue it 's Larum must compleat . You 'll name no Undertaking which He 'll baulk , But all Concludes , where it Commenc'd , in Talk. He 'll teach Another what Himself ne'er knew , And be a Guide in Ways he ne'er pass'd through . Look in at 's Neighbour's Window , and demand The Reason why his Servants idle stand . Call'd to Another's Table , 't is his way To slander some Third Person , and Convey The Tale to him that 's wrong'd , whom having sworn To Secrecy , with speed he does return To his first Host , and this dark Practice ply , Till Both are set on Fire they know not why . His Ears are Quick , and no less quick his Eyes , To Imperfections These , and Those to Lyes . He stops Another's Servant , takes him in , Treats him , and does his Master's Health begin ; Thence slily falls to ask of his Affairs , What sort of Company t' his House repairs ; What is their usual Fare , and what Discourse Passes at Meals . Thus does th' Extorter force ; But , soon as drein'd , the Guest his leave must take , And Room for fresh Intelligencers make . This Man thinks Constancy a dull disgrace , And still is shifting of his Work and Place ; But of no Place can half so weary seem , Or half so soon , as is the Place of Him. In each Acquaintance he has got a Foe , For not to hate him you must Him not know . He toils unthank'd , he talks without Belief , Living has no Man's Love , Dead , no Man's Grief ; Unless by Chance the last Defect's supply'd , And some may Grieve that he no sooner Dy'd . THE ENVIOUS . THE Envious feeds upon his Neighbours Ills , And no Disease , but others Wellfare , feels . God's Benefits perversly does destroy ; With Company no Blessing can enjoy . Wou'd rather have Superiours in Distress , Than Equals in a common Happiness . He 's an ill Prizer of his Neighbour's store , And yet , his own computing , He errs more : On neither the just Value will bestow , For , That he rates too High , and This too Low. He asks in what Repute his Equals Live ; About his Betters more Inquisitive . If just Report his Envious search defeat , In closer Terms his Question He 'll repeat . And when his spight can fasten on no Flaw , His Snakes turn back his own rank Heart to gnaw . With God he quarrels , if his Neighbour's Field With better Tillage , fairer Grain does yield . For one Chance-Blight he murmurs and inveys , For Ten Successive Crops no Thanks repays . Whom openly He dares not to traduce , With Short or Over-praise He will abuse . Allows his Rival all things but his Right , And most in Commendation shews his Spight . If Courteous his Competitor appear , He 's then Inveigling , Crafty , Popular . If Bountiful , a Faction is design'd , To which with Bribes he does his Clients bind . And if in War his Rival has success , He 's so much more a dang'rous Man in Peace . By Industry in Wealth , or Power grown strong , He 's hoarding up of means for future wrong . Thus does the Envious Man distort and force True Worth , and turn each Vertue to a Curse . In his Religion Policy still lurks , And by Submission his Ambition works . No Law , that had the Publick Good enclos'd , Can pass , because by Him not first Propos'd . Not his own Int'rest for that time he weighs , But Suffers , to defraud Another's Praise . If Evil of his Rival , Fame report , He cryes she 's Partial , and of Truth comes short . What Prejudice relates , as being worst , In his Recital He still mentions first : Knowing that gentler Truth too slowly treads , And that the first ill Rumour farthest spreads . He 'll stab i' th' Dark , and then with pitying Voice Bemoan the Fate that makes his Heart Rejoice . Of his ill Deeds his Nature is the Cause , The Good He Acts is only for Applause . And that which cannot to his share befal To do , He still takes Care no other shall . Of his Best Skill He just enough will show , To let the World perceive what He does know ; His Med'cine's Sov'raign Use he will reveal , The Art to make 't , does ev'n in Death Conceal ; Pleas'd that he can a Prize from Mankind steal . God's Blessings , if beside Himself they fall , His Curses prove , and make Him burst with Gall. Yet after All there 's none can grudge the Elf His Diet , for the Miscreant eats Himself . To turn a Devil He waits but his Life's End , Till then a Carcase quicken'd by a Fiend . FINIS . THE Life of Alexander the Great , Written in Latin by Quintus Curtius , Translated into English by several Hands , and now Dedicated to the QUEEN . By N. Tate . 
A79316	----	By the King. A proclamation for publishing a former proclamation of the 30th of May last (entituled, A proclamation against vitious, debauch'd and prophane persons) in all churches and chappels throughout England and Wales. England and Wales. Sovereign (1660-1685 : Charles II) This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A79316 of text R212585 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason 669.f.25[73]). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 3 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A79316 Wing C3385 Thomason 669.f.25[73] ESTC R212585 99871189 99871189 163878 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A79316) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 163878) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 247:669f25[73]) By the King. A proclamation for publishing a former proclamation of the 30th of May last (entituled, A proclamation against vitious, debauch'd and prophane persons) in all churches and chappels throughout England and Wales. England and Wales. Sovereign (1660-1685 : Charles II) Charles II, King of England, 1630-1685. 1 sheet ([1] p.) Printed by John Bill and Christopher Barker, Printers to the Kings most Excellent Majesty, London : 1660. Dated: Given at Our Court at Whitehall, the Thirteenth day of August, in the Twelfth year of Our Reign, 1660. Annotation on Thomason copy: "Aug. 15". Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng England and Wales. -- Sovereign (1660-1685 : Charles II) -- Proclamation against vitious, debauch'd and prophane persons. -- Early works to 1800. Vice -- England -- Early works to 1800. Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Early works to 1800. A79316 R212585 (Thomason 669.f.25[73]). civilwar no By the King· A proclamation for publishing a former proclamation of the 30th of May last (entituled, A proclamation against vitious, debauch England and Wales. Sovereign 1660 411 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2008-03 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2008-08 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-09 Mona Logarbo Sampled and proofread 2008-09 Mona Logarbo Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion C R DIEV ET MON DROIT HONI SOIT QVI MAL Y PENSE royal blazon or coat of arms By the King . A PROCLAMATION For Publishing a former Proclamation of the 30th of May last ( Entituled , A Proclamation against Vitious , Debauch'd and Prophane persons ) in all Churches and Chappels throughout England and Wales . CHARLES R. WHereas We finde , to Our exceeding great joy and comfort , that the Proclamation lately published by Vs against Vitious , Debauchd and Prophane persons , hath been well received and resented , and in some measure hath had , and will We hope yet more have Our wish'd effect amongst Our People : And We continuing Our ardent desire to prosecute all means which tend to the Suppressing of Vice , and the Advancement of Vertue , And also to acknowledge the transcendent goodness of Almighty God for the great progress in this short time made towards Our full Establishment , no less then His Wonderful Providence in Our Miraculous Restauration to Our People , and them to Vs , with the Advice of the Lords and Commons in Parliament Assembled , do by this Our Proclamation , streightly Charge and Command , That each Minister in his respective Parish or Chappel , within this Our Realm of England , Dominion of Wales , and the Town of Berwick upon Tweed , shall once in every Moneth , for the space of Six Moneths together , next ensuing , read in their respective Congregations , the aforesaid Proclamation , and incite and stir up their respective Auditories to observe the Duties therein enjoyned , and avoid the Vices therein forbidden . And We do hereby also strictly Charge and Command , That every of the respective Ministers aforesaid , do carefully and effectually observe Our Will and Pleasure herein , as they tender Our Favour , and would avoid Our Displeasure . And lastly , We do hereby renew Our Command , and again require all Mayors , Sheriffs , and Iustices of the Peace , to be very vigilant and strict in Discovering and Punishing of such persons according to Law , as shall offend contrary to the said Proclamation . Given at Our Court at Whitehall , the Thirteenth day of August , in the Twelfth year of Our Reign , 1660 LONDON , Printed by John Bill and Christopher Barker , Printers to the Kings most Excellent Majesty , 1660. 
A71299	----	The insinuating bawd and the repenting harlot written by a whore at Tunbridge, and dedicated to a bawd at the Bath. Ward, Edward, 1667-1731. 1699 Approx. 30 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 9 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A71299 Wing W738A ESTC R8643 12381526 ocm 12381526 60779 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A71299) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 60779) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 904:39 or 1107:10) The insinuating bawd and the repenting harlot written by a whore at Tunbridge, and dedicated to a bawd at the Bath. Ward, Edward, 1667-1731. [4], 12 p. Printed, and are sold by most booksellors, London : [1699] In verse. Attributed to Ward by Wing and NUC pre-1956 imprints. Date of publication suggested by Wing. Advertisement: p. [2]. This work appears on reel 904:39 and 1107:10. Reproduction of original in the Huntington Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO. EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org). The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Vice -- Anecdotes 2007-03 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-04 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-05 Robyn Anspach Sampled and proofread 2007-05 Robyn Anspach Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion THE Insinuating Bawd : AND THE Repenting Harlot . Written by a Whore at Tunbridge , and Dedicated to a Bawd at the Bath . LONDON Printed , and are Sold by most Booksellors . Books Printed and Sold by J. How , in the Ram-Head-Inn-Yard in Fenchurch-Street ; and by M. Fabian , at Mercers-Chappel . 1. SOt's Paradise : Or the Humours of a Derby-Ale-House : With a Satyr upon the Ale. Price Six Pence . 2. A Trip to Jamaica : With a True Character of the People and Island Price Six Pence . 3. Ecclesia & Factio . A Dialogue between Bow-Steeple-Dragon , and the Exchange-Grashoper . Price Six pence . 4. The Poet 's Ramble after Riches . With Reflections upon a Country Corporation . Also the Author's Lamentation in the time of Adversity . Price Six pence . 5. A Trip to New-England . With a Character of the Country and People , both English and Indians . Price Six pence . 6. Modern Religion , & Ancient Loyalty : A Dialogue . Price Six Pence . 7. The World Bewitch'd . A Dialogue between two Astrologers and the Author . With Infallible Predictions of what will happen from the Vices and Villanies Practis'd in Court , City , and Country . Price Six pence . 8. A Walk to Islington : With a Description of New Tunbridge-Wells , and Sadler's Musick-House . Price Six pence . 9. The Humours of a Coffee-House : A Comedy . Price Six Pence . 10. A Frolick to Horn-Fair . With a Walk from Cuckold's-Point thro' Deptford and Greenwich . Price Six pence . 11. The Dancing-School . With the Adventures of the Easter-Holy-Days . Price Six pence . 12. The First Volume of the LONDON-SPY : In Twelve Parts . 13. The Second Volume of the LONDON-SPY : In Six Parts . Price Six Pence each ; or they may be had both Volumes Bound together ; and also Bound with the rest of the Authors Writings . 14. The Metamorphos'd Beau , &c. 15. The English Nun : Or , a Comical Description of a Nunnery . With the Lives and Intrigues of the Priests and Nuns . Price Six Pence . 16. Laugh and be Fat : Or , an Antidote against Melancholy . Containing great variety of Comical Intrigues in Town and Country . To which is added Nine Delightful Tales . Price One Shilling . 17. A Step to the Bath : With a Character of the Place . Price Six Pence . 18. Labour in Vain : Or , what Signifies Little or Nothing , viz. I. The Poor Mans Petition at Court. II. Expectation of Benefit from a Covetous Man in his Life time . III. The Marriage of an Old Man to a Young Woman . IV. Endeavours to Regulate Mens Manners by Preaching or Writing . V. Being a Jacobite . VI. Confining an Insolvent Debtor . VII . Promise of Secrecy in a Conspiracy . VIII . An Enquiry after a Place . THE Repenting Harlot TO THE Insinuating Bawd. Most Hypocritical Beldam ! SVRE nothing but the Vilest Complication of all manner of Devilism , could have Acted a Judas's part with so much subtilty , for the Lucre of a few base Pence , as your abominable self , thou Hodg Podge of all Wickedness ; in deluding a poor Innocent Creature , by the bewitching Sorcery of your Insinuating Tongue , to satisfie the Lust of an Ingrateful Sinner , to her whole Life's Misery . I am Pleas'd with nothing in this World , but to hear the Venereal Remains of your Juvenal Debauches , have sent you Packing to the Bath , to there Parboile your filthy Carcase , with a Vain hope of Repairing your Rotten Limbs , which I believe the best Preserver of Humane Bodies , is unable to keep Alive from Stinking . Some Cripples I have heard , have been so perfectly restor'd to their Healthful Abilites by the Bath , as to leave their Crutches behind 'em : But I question not , if there be any Justice in Hot Water towards thee , the most Infamous of Sinners : If you leave any thing behind you , 't will be your Nose , or your Shinbones , in order to Punish you , for those Ills which you have not been Contented to Practice your self , but to draw Innocence into . The Sufferings and Sorrows I now Labour under , are all owing to your Confounded Ladyship , and your Extasies of Joy with a Pox to 'em , ( for so I 've found 'em ) have struck up such an unextinguishable Fire in my most Pleasurable Apartment , that I fear its past the Power of Tunbridge Waters , Aqua-Tetrachimagogon , or the Pick-a-dilly Engineer , to stop the Flames from consuming the whole miserable Tenement . My Sinful Life , which was at first owing to your self , has brought me Early under Affliction ; and that Affliction , I thank Providence , to an Early Repentance : But if I cannot become a sincere Penitent , without forgiving you , my Vnpardonable Enemy , who first seduc'd me into a State of Corruption , I shall certainly hazard my Salvation , upon a breach of that part of Christianity ; and Dye with as much Malice towards thee , the betrayer of my Innocence , as ever did poor Jacobite Plotter bear to a Confederate , who first drew him into the Design , and afterwards , to save his own Life , hang'd him upon his Evidence . Vnder a Serious Reflection , on my miserable Condition at Tunbridge : I writ the following Poem , which I have Dedicated to your Sinful self , to Remind you of your past Wickedness ; and to Caution Young Ignorant Creatures , how they are Deluded by such Insinuating Beldams , such Kidnappers of Virginity , into the like Vnhappiness : So Wishing you may Dye in a Ditch , and Rot like a Dead Horse , that the Boys may make Catsticks of your Legg Bones , and Raisers of your Ribs , to Play at Trap Ball with , in the Bartholomew Holy-days , I Remain a Miserable Wretch , and your Bitter Enemy till Death . D. B. THE Insinuating Bawd : OR , THE Repenting Harlot . HAPPY was I , before I knew to Sin ; All Charms without , all Innocence within ; No Hateful Envy , my Content withstood ; All things were Grateful , whilst my self was Good : Unsulli'd Pleasures in my Bosom dwelt , My Peaceful Soul no Headstrong Passion felt : No Shame pursu'd , or , did my Mind Affright ; But ev'ry Hour administred Delight : Blest as th' Aspiring Angels , e'er they Fell ; The World seem'd Heaven , for I knew no Hell. No Pride or Lust , my Virgin Brightness Stain'd , Or Vicious Thoughts my Virtuous Will Prophan'd : My Looks and Actions Artless did appear ; Tho' each Oblig'd , yet both Unstudy'd were ; Without Design , all Innocent and Free ; I knew no Sin , and could no Curse foresee . My Beauty and Deportment were approv'd , By th' Old Applauded , by the Young Belov'd . Thus was my Youth by Virtue 's Charms inspir'd , By all Respected , and by most Admir'd ; Proud was the Man , and Blest the Happy He , That could obtain one minutes Companie ; Which then to the false Sex I could impart , And feel no Feaverish Throbing in my Heart . Talk of Chaste Love , and raise no ill Desire , Toy without Kindling up a Lustful Fire ; Could Wander without Fear from Field to Grove , And think of nothing but the Name of Love : Yet found my Sweeter Innocence supply'd The want of Joys my Tender years deny'd . Thus I remain ▪ d from Sinful Sorrows free , No Saint on Earth could sure more Happy be ; Till I the Term of Sixteen years had been A Faithful Subject to bright Virtue 's Queen ; And then my own Base Sex seduc'd me first to Sin. One who by long Experience knew the way To raise Desires would Tender Youth betray , And make the Giddy Maid , with Eager haste , Pursue those Pleasures , 't is a Crime to Taste . The insinuating Temptress , thus began To Bribe my Ears , and Bend my Thoughts t'wards Man. Madam , Since Heav'n so largely has bestow'd On you those Blessings , but to few allow'd ▪ And now your Charms , in Natures Law 's Vntaught , Are by Ripe Years to full Perfection brought ; 'T is to the Donor sure a great abuse , When grown Mature , to keep 'em back from Vse : By our Grave Guides , how often are we told , How much the Miser Sins , that hoards his Gold. If you those Charms from their true Vse Conceal , You 're doubtless Guilty of as great an Ill. Beauty , like Money , 's made to be Employ'd ; And not by Age to molter Vn-enjoy'd : For it were , where would the diff'rence be , Betwixt the Fairest , and the Homely'st She ? The soft Young Damsel , with her Magick Eyes , And all the Charms Dame Nature can Devise , If she but Tempts to what must be Deny'd , Imprisons Beauty by a Senseless Pride ; The Dowdy's far more Blest , that freely is Enjoy'd . For Niggards , tho' Possest with useless Store , Thro' Willful wants , Live Poorer than the Poor : Consider , Child , what Pity it would be , That Fruit like yours , should Wither on the Tree : Those Rubie Cheeks , that look so Fresh and Gay , Will in short time , if not Enjoy'd , Decay . That warm Complexion , that preserves the Grace Of each soft Feature in your Lovely Face , Will Sickly grow , and Fade in spight of Art , Lest the Blind God , soon Bleeds you with his Dart : See how Lucinda's Charms at once are gone , Whose Eyes of late , with so much Lustre shone ; And all the Roses that her Cheeks Adorn'd , Are into Yellow Fading Tulips turn'd ; Her Limbs , that with such Air and Freedom mov'd , Are Lazy grown , unfit to be Belov'd : Her deprav'd Stomach does for nothing Call , But Cinders , Oat-Meal , ' Baccopipes , and Wall : Her Blood 's Corrupted , and her Breath's grown Short ; And all for want of Love's Salubrious Sport. Therefore , Dear Madam , don't Repent too Late , That you are fall'n beneath Lucinda's Fate ; B●●●●se the happy means that may prevent Those Ills occasion'd by severe Restraint : Such Knowledge you will find , such Pleasure take In the first Sweet Experiment you make ; You 'll own each Blissful moment you Employ , Is worth an Age Exempted from the Joy. Your Soul will find an Extasie so great , What now you Fear , you 'll Study to Repeat . The Vnexperienc'd Nymph that 's Chaste and Fair , Does but the Fetters of Blind Ign'rance wear ; Whilst she that 's Wise , dissolves the feeble Chain , By Vent'ring once to lose what 's kept in Pain . When I first took the Counsel that I give , Such Pleasing Knowledge did my Soul Revive , I 'd rather Feast and Dye , than not to Taste and Live. Madam , said I , I know not what you mean , Something methinks I want , but fear to Sin ; You Talk of Joys to such a Blest degree , What 's sure so Pleasant , cannot Sinful be ; And yet methinks , who 'd Heavens Laws Controul , Were it not Pleasure that beguil'd the Soul ? Barely the Hopes , not certainty of Joy , Did Eve , amidst her Innocence Decoy ; 'T was not the Fruit , but what the Tempter said , That her weak Nature to his Will Betray'd . If Talk of Pleasures will the Mind subdue , What then must Joys in full Fruition do . The very Words are Pleasant you impart , And makes a Wellcome Feaver in my Heart : My Soul Divided , struggles hard within ; Betwixt the Hopes of Joy , and Fear of Sin : A warm Desire thro' ev'ry Fibre glides ; Something I want , which something else forbids , What 't is you 've made me Covet to Possess , Dear Madam tell me , for I cannot guess . With Looks disorder'd , I approach'd more nigh , And eagerly attended her Reply . Finding her Words had some Impression made , She took me by the Hand , and thus she said : Madam , The Joys your full-blown Years require , Are Just to Act , and Nat'ral to Desire : 'T is the sweet Game that all Mankind pursue , The Prince , the Peasant , Priest , and Poet too : It Sweetens Life in every Degree ; Makes Crowns sit Easie , and the Pen run Free : It is the Virgins Hope , the Wives Delight , The Business of the Day , the Bliss of Night . It begets Frendship , puts an end to Strife , Is the Blest Warmth that gives the World new Life . Such are the Joys , you now are Ripe to Prove , I' th' Sweet Embraces of a Man you Love , Hugg'd in his Arms , if Pliable and Kind ; There , there , the Happy Secret you will find . But Man , said I , I 've heard my Mother say , Is False , and cannot Love above a Day ; Will Swear ten thousand Lyes , to be Believ'd ; And Fawn , and Flatter , till h' has one Deceiv'd : But when h' has gain'd his End , inclin'd to Rove , Slights what he Vow'd he could for Ages Love. And leaves the Sighing Wretch he has betray'd , To drown in Tears , the false kind things he said . How then can I such Happiness obtain , From Faithless Man , so Fickle , and so Vain . Methinks , I only could the Youth approve , That could , like me , for Ever ever Love ; Conform to th' Sacred Tye , make me his Wife , And bind himself to Love me for his Life : In such a Man , I 'm sure I could Delight , Please him all Day , and Hug him close all Night . Dear Child , says she , You much , Alas ! mistake ; Those Bonds are Tiresome which we cannot break : Fear , Jealousie , and Doubt , Improve the Bliss ; The Pleasure 's Lost , when Chains have made you his . Our Sex too often has Confest , in Tears , Cupid withdraws , when once the Priest appears : Marriage and Love , we by Experience find , Differ like Freedom , and Restraint , in kind ; And if they mix , 't is with much Pains and Toil , As Skilful Cooks , mix Vinegar with Oyl . Therefore in Love , if you would happy be , Keep , whilst you 're Youthful , Unconfin'd and Free : And if your weary Confident should Range , The Bonds are Void , and you your self may change : Your Love , whenever your Gallant has Err'd , May to another justly be Transferr'd : But if in Wedlocks Fetters , you are Bound , For Wrongs you Suffer , no Relief is found ; Slights and Neglects ; nay , Blows perhaps endure ; And bear with Patience , what Revenge should Cure : Husbands maintain an Arbitrary Sway , Whilst the Poor Wife must Suffer , and Obey ; And like a Kingdom into Slav'ry drawn ; Thro' Fear , not Love , upon her Tyrant Fawn . Thus must you Study ( tho' Opprest ) to Please , All other means are worse than the Disease . Marriage , as us'd , is but a Womans Yoke ; A Knot for Life , too Stubborn to be broke ; A Prison , which if once you 're into 't Cast , Makes the Sweet Fruit , but Nauseous to the Taste . Therefore the Freedom you Enjoy , Maintain ; Liberty Lost , is difficult to Regain : Whilst Single , you may many Hearts subdue ; Discharge the Faithless , and Oblige the True ; If tir'd with Old ones , change 'em still for New. But if you 're Marry'd , you 're at once undone , And made a despicable Slave to one ; Your Actions all , are Watch'd by many Eyes ; Your very Servants that attend , are Spies ; And each chance Folly , tho' you meant no hurt , Is made Suspicious , by their false Report . But in the State of Freedom , you 're at Ease ; At Leisure may your self or others Please ; Fear no Reproof , be under no Command ; List who you Please ; and when you Please , Disband : Gain , with your Smiles , fresh Conquests ev'ry hour ; Hero 's themselves will yield to Beauties Pleasing Power . Nature b'ing Headstrong , and my Virtue Weak , Methoughts , I could for ever hear her Speak ; I fond of Joy , and Pleas'd with what she said , Too soon Believing , was too soon Misled . Virtue , 't is true , some Opposition gave ; But Rebel Nature would the Conquest have ; And ev'ry Vein with willing Warmth inspir'd , To Play it 's part in what the whole desir'd ; B'ing Ripe and Eager now to be Undone , I to my Temptress thus again begun : Madam , said I , But where 's the Man so just , With whom a Virgin may her Honour trust ? Of all the Sex , I most admire a Beau , But fear he 'll Boast the Favours I bestow ; Yet to a Beau , I could my Heart Resign , He Looks so Prim , so Pritty , and so Fine ; Is so Obliging , Complisant and Free ; Dances , and Hums about so Prettilie : What would I Give , or what but I would do , Could I so dear a Creature but subdue ? Oh how I 'd Love him , his Esteem to Gain , Methinks a Beau , is a Delicious Man. The Cunning Dame , who now my Pulse had felt , To raise Desire , these Pleasing Measures dealt : Madam , The Pritty'st Gentleman I know , You ever saw , or all the World can show ; Whose Comely Stature , and Engaging Mein , Would Tempt a Princess , nay , a Saint , to Sin ; So Brisk and Youthful , Vigorous and Gay , So Courteous , and Obliging every way ; Earth cannot sure produce a Maid that can Resist the Charms of so Compleat a Man ; H' has seen you twice , I 've heard him since oft say ; One time at Church , another at a Play : And Vows , you are the Sweetest Pritty Rogue , That Mortal Man would e'er desire to Hugg ; Swears he could Dote upon your Lovely Face , And gaze all day upon each Charming Grace : Your Eyes have Prick'd his Breast with such a Dart , He 'd give ten thousand Worlds to gain your Heart . When I 've but Nam'd you , he has seem'd so glad ; T'wards you such kind and pritty things has said , Sigh'd , Stretch'd , and Vow'd , he always could adore ; And still Enjoy , yet still Love more and more : Had you been by , you could have done no less , Than Yeilded what he Covets to Possess : Against such Force , no Virtue could maintain Its Ground , Oh , he 's a wond'rous pritty Man ! This false Suggestion , set me all on Fire ; And turn'd my Fears into a Strong Desire : Her Verbal Witchcraft did my Heart subdue ; And made me Languish , for I know not who . Madam , said I , But when shall I obtain , A Sight of this sweet Miracle of Man ; And do you think he Loves me ? Yes , said she , O then thought I , how happy shall I be ; Handsome , Obliging , Young , not given to Rove : Such a dear Man , I could for ever Love : O let me see him , and the Youth shall find , If he 'll be true , I 'll Study to be kind . When the Dame found , she my Consent had won , And I was thus inclin'd to be undone . Put on your Hood and Scarf , dear Child , says she , I 'll make you Happy ; come along with me , And you shall see , e'er a few hours be Past , The Lovely Tree , and it 's sweet Fruit shall Taste : Do you but like the Charming Youth be kind , And you this Night , a Blissful Heav'n shall find : Your Soul shall surfeit with Delights unknown , And Sum up all the Joys on Earth in one . Like our first Mother I was Loth to miss , What false Report had render'd such a Bliss : But with my best Attire , my Charms improv'd , Fed with vain hopes of b'ing the more belov'd ; Wash , Powder , Patches , all th' alluring Arts , Practic'd by Ladies to ensnare Mens Hearts . Thus did I Labour ( Curse upon the Day ) To Tempt that Breast , wherein the Serpent lay : Wretch that I am , was hasty to destroy My whole Life's Comfort for a moments Joy. So Insects fly to Flames which they should shun , And fond of Light , are by the Fire undone ; When drest , some Checks within my Soul I found , But flowing Vice , the Gardian Angel drown'd : A Storm of Lust had so enrag'd my Blood , Alas , I could not Listen to my Good. When thus Equip'd , we made our next approach , To the Street Door , and becken'd to a Coach. My base Conductress did Directions give , And bid the Churl , to th' inward Temple drive ; Where Liv'd my unknown Love , so Gay and Fine , Before made Privy to the Curs'd design : When I alas , to th' Sinful Mansion came ; My Pulse beat high , my Cheeks were Dy'd with Shame : She knock'd , and such an Angel let us in , Whose out-side out-shone all I 'd ever seen : His Gown with Red , Blew , Yellow Stripes was crost , Gaudy as Flame in a hard Winters Frost ; Clad in the Morning Trapings of a Bean ; He Bow'd , and Cring'd , and made a Lovely show : His Lips as soft as Leaves of Roses felt , His Breath , like an Arabian Garden Smelt . From his kind Tongue all Love and Sweetness flow'd , And ev'ry gentle touch his hand bestow'd , Made a strange Ebolition in my Blood. He brought forth Sack , and Drank , but I deny'd , Till begging he prevail'd , and I Comply'd . Thus Enter'd , the Procuress took her Leave ; That she 'd return , did an Assurance give ; Feign'd business , and intreated me to stay , Whilst she dispatch'd Affairs some other way : Rid of her Presence , he began his Court ; Hugg'd me , and Kiss'd me , till my Breath grew short ; Call'd me Fair Angel , and his Charming Saint , Smother'd with Kisses , I began to Faint ; Was sometimes Cold , and then again grew hot , Panted and Trembled , at I knew not what . In this disorder by indecent Force , He something did that made me ten times worse ; With all my Might , I struggl'd ; but half Dead , With his strong Armes , he tost me on his Bed ; Where o'er his Victim he Triumphant got , And did 'twixt Pain and Pleasure , Heav'n knows what : When thus Corrupted with the first Delight , He then perswaded me to stay all Night , I yeilded , but the false seducing Dame ▪ Regardless of her Treach'rous word ne'er came ; At first he prov'd all Love ; I too was kind , Expecting still more Joys than I could find : But when few hours was spent , he turn'd his Back , And grew , methoughts , Cold , Negligent , and Slack : I call'd him dear , but could not make him Speak ; I Hugg'd him , Tugg'd him , but he would not Wake : I' th' Morning Early , by the break o' th' day , He roughly told me , that I must not stay ; I much asham'd arose , and Weeping went away . I Vex●d●and Angry to be thus Misus'd , Though as I found , I 'd been by both abus'd ; Discov'ring , when too late , the Jilting Dame Sold me to quench the Leachers Lustful Flame : And went wi'th ' Judas Pence , she 'd basely gain'd To th' Bath , to have her Rotten Corps new clean'd ; There Stew her Crazy Limbs , with a Vain thought Of Curing Pains her Youthful Sins begot . When enter'd thus , I th' tempting Vice pursu'd , And from my first Corruption grew more Lew'd ; Till by Promiscuous use , I found in th' end , The Sowrest Pains , the Sweetest Sins attend : Such Poisonous Ulcers did my Crimes ensue ; I nauseous to my self and others grew : Thus were my Pleasures punish'd with a Curse ; No Leprosie of Job , could sure be worse ; My Blood did into Loathsome Issues melt ; The parts that Sin'd the most , most Torment felt . Beneath these Miseries , I to Tunbridge went , Backward to Dye , but willing to Repent ; In hopes the cooling Waters would have eas'd , Or quench'd those Fires , my stubborn Lust had rais'd . But when I found the Wells yeild no Relief , My hopes were turn'd into Despair , and Grief . I then reflecting on my wretched State , In Tears , did with my self thus Ruminate : Alas what am I ! whither am I stray'd ? By Lust and Pride , from Virtues Paths missed : What shameful shadows of my Guilt draw near ? How Black and Monst'rous , do my Ills appear ? My thoughts , like Ghastly Fiends , my Soul affright , And threaten her with sad Destruction's Night : How Pale and Yellow , these poor Cheeks are grown , Which once look'd fresh , as Roses newly Blown ? How Lank my Breasts , how Nauseous is my Breath ? O where 's my only kind Physician , Death ? How happy was I once , when I was free From Sinful Thought , from Shame and Miserie ; When ev'ry Eye my spotless Charms admir'd , Enjoying all my Virtuous Life requir'd ? Where are the Flatt'rers , that my Love pursu'd , And would have giv'n whole Worlds to do me good ? Alas , too late , to my sad Grief I find , 'T was Innocence alone made all things kind : Sweet Innocence , that can it self defend , And make ill-Natur'd Envy prove it's Friend : Bright Innocence , thou Blest and Charming Dove , Whom ev'ry Mortal must Admire and Love ; When thee I lost , my Guardian Angel fled , And ever since , I 've been unhappy made . Lust in thy Absence , got the Upper-hand , And made me Servile to its base Command : O that I 'd been but some poor Bargeman's Wife , T o've Lugg'd and Tugg'd , at the great Oar for Life : Or what is worse , had been a Botchers Spouse , T o've Mended nitty Coats , and stinking Hose ; For one Days Living , to have two Days Starv'd , So that my Health and Virtue , I 'd preserv'd ; I 'd been more happy than the fairest she , That L 〈…〉 Libertie . Curse on the Female Tongue , that drew me in ; And for base Lucre , Taught me first to Sin : May her Nose fall , her Reines and Shinbones Rot , And begging without pitty be her Lot : May her Vile Womb Incessant Fury have ; And her Limbs drop by piece-meal to the Grave : And may that Man , that brib'd her to seduce Me Wretched Creature , to his Beastly Use , Be Doom'd the only Stallion to her Lust , Till Pox and Age , dry both into a Crust . Ladies beware ▪ let Miserable me The sad Example of a Harlot be : Let not Loose Women Tempt you to the Hook , With which themselves unwarily were took ; For if you 're once betray'd , you 'll surely find , You 're Curs'd from the first moment you are Kind . FINIS . 
A68130	----	Characters of vertues and vices in two bookes: by Ios. Hall. Hall, Joseph, 1574-1656. 1608 Approx. 89 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 96 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2005-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A68130 STC 12648 ESTC S103620 99839369 99839369 3779 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A68130) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 3779) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 724:13, 1142:4) Characters of vertues and vices in two bookes: by Ios. Hall. Hall, Joseph, 1574-1656. [16], 176 p. Printed by Melch. Bradwood for Eleazar Edgar and Samuel Macham, and are to be sold at the sign of the Bul-head in Pauls Church-yard, London : Anno 1608. The first leaf is blank except for signature-mark "A"; the last leaf is blank except for marginal rules and page numbers. Each book has separate title page; pagination and register are continuous. This edition has "Ios. Hall" on the general title page; C3v line 1 has "Sauior". Identified as STC 12648a on UMI microfilm reel 1142. Reproductions of the originals in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery and the Folger Shakespeare Library. Appears at reel 724 (Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery copy) and at reel 1142 (Folger Shakespeare Library copy). Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Characters and characteristics -- Early works to 1800. Virtue -- Early works to 1800. Vice -- Early works to 1800. 2005-01 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2005-04 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2005-05 Emma (Leeson) Huber Sampled and proofread 2005-05 Emma (Leeson) Huber Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-10 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion CHARACTERS OF VERTVES AND VICES : In two Bookes : By IOS . HALL . LONDON , Printed by Melch. Bradwood for Eleazar Edgar and Samuel Macham , and are to be sold at the sign of the Bul-head in Pauls Church-yard . ANNO 1608. TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE MY SINGVLAR GOOD LORDS , EDWARD LORD DENNY BARON OF WALTHAM , AND IAMES LORD HAIE HIS RIGHT NOBLE AND WORTHY SONNE IN LAVV , I. H. HVMBLY DEDICATES HIS LABOR , DEVOTETH HIMSELFE , WISHETH ALL HAPPINESSE . A PREMONITION of the Title and Vse of Characters . READER , THe Diuines of the olde Heathens were their Morall Philosophers : These receiued the Acts of an inbred law , in the Sinai of Nature , and deliuered them with manie expositions to the multitude : These were the Ouerseers of maners , Correctors of vices , Directors of liues , Doctors of vertue , which yet taught their people the body of their naturall Diuinitie , not after one maner ; while some spent themselues in deepe discourses of humane felicitie and the way to it in common ; others thought best to applie the generall precepts of goodnesse or decencie , to particular conditions and persons : A third sort in a mean course betwixt the two other , and compounded of them both , bestowed their time in drawing out the true lineaments of euery vertue and vice , so liuely , that who saw the medals , might know the face : which Art they significantly termed Charactery . Their papers were so many tables , their writings so many speaking pictures , or liuing images , whereby the ruder multitude might euen by their sense learne to know vertue , and discerne what to detest . I am deceiued if any course could be more likely to preuaile ; for heerein the grosse conceit is led on with pleasure , and informed while it feeles nothing but delight : And if pictures haue beene accounted the books of idiots , beholde heere the benefit of an image without the offence . It is no shame for vs to learne wit of Heathens , neither is it materiall , in whose Schoole we take out a good lesson : yea , it is more shame not to follow their good , than not to leade them better . As one therefore that in worthy examples hold imitation better than inuention , I have trod in their paths , but with an higher & wider step ; and out of their Tablets haue drawen these larger portraitures of both sorts . More might be sayd , I denie not of euery vertue , of euery vice : I desired not to say all , but enough . If thou do but read or like these , I haue spent good houres ill ; but if thou shalt hence abiure those vices , which before thou thoughtest not ill-fauoured , or fall in loue with any of these goodly faces of vertue ; or shalt hence finde where thou hast anie little touch of these euils , to cleere thy selfe , or where any defect in these graces to supply it , neither of vs shall need to repent of our labor . THE SVMME OF the whole . FIRST BOOKE . THe Prooeme . Pag. 1 Character of Wisdome . 5 Of Honestie . 13 Of Faith. 19 Of Humilitie . 27 Of Valor . 33 Of Patience . 39 Of True-Friendship . 45 Of True-Nobilitie . 51 Of the good Magistrate . 57 SECOND BOOKE . THe Prooeme . 67 Character of the Hypocrite . 71 Of the Busie-Bodie . 79 Of the Superstitious . 87 Of the Profane . 93 Of the Male-content . 99 Of the Inconstant . 107 Of the Flatterer . 113 Of the Slothfull . 119 Of the Couetous . 125 Of the Vain-glorious . 133 Of the Presumptuous . 141 Of the Distrustfull . 147 Of the Ambitious . 153 Of the Vnthrift . 161 Of the Enuious . 167 THE FIRST Booke . Characterismes of Vertues . LONDON , Printed by M. B. for Eleazer Edgar , and S. Macham . The Prooeme . VERTVE is not loued enough , because shee is not seene ; and Vice loseth much detestation , because her vglinesse is secret . Certainly , my Lords , there are so many beauties , and so many graces in the face of Goodnesse , that no eye can possibly see it without affection , without rauishment ; and the visage of Euil is so monstrous , through loathsome deformities , that if her louers were not ignorant , they would be mad with disdaine and astonishment . What need we more than to discouer these two to the world ? this worke shall saue the labour of exhorting , and dissuasion . I haue heere done it as I could , following that ancient Master of Moralitie , who thought this the fittest taske for the ninetie and ninth yeere of his age , and the profitablest monument that he could leaue for a fare-well to his Grecians . Loe heere then Vertue and Vice strip't naked to the open view , and despoiled , one of her rags , the other of her ornaments , and nothing left them but bare presence to plead for affection : see now whether shall finde more suiters . And if still the vaine mindes of leaud men shall dote vpon their olde mistresse , it will appeare to be , not because she is not foule , but for that they are blind , and bewitched . And first behold the goodly features of WISDOME , an amiable vertue and worthy to leade this stage ; which as she extends her selfe to all the following Graces , so amongst the rest is for her largenesse most conspicuous . CHARACTER of the WISE MAN. THERE is nothing that he desires not to know , but most and first himselfe ; and-not so much his owne strength , as his weaknesses ; neither is his knowledge reduced to discourse , but practise . He is a skilfull Logician not by nature , so much as vse ; his working minde doth nothing all his time but make syllogismes , & draw out conclusions ; euery thing that he sees & heares serues for one of the premises : with these he cares first to informe himselfe , then to direct others . Both his eyes are neuer at once from home , but one keeps house while the other roues abroad for intelligence . In materiall and weighty points he abides not his minde suspended in vncertainties ; but hates doubting where he may , where he should be resolute : and first hee makes sure worke for his soule ; accounting it no safetie to be vnsetled in the foreknowledge of his finall estate . The best is first regarded ; and vaine is that regard which endeth not in securitie . Euery care hath his iust order ; neither is there any one either neglected or mis-placed . He is seldome ouerseene with credulity ; for knowing the falsenesse of the world , he hath learn'd to trust himselfe alwaies ; others so farre , as he may not be dammaged by their disappointment . He seeks his quietnesse in secrecy , and is wont both to hide himselfe in retirednesse , and his tongue in himselfe . He loues to be gessed at , not knowen ; and to see the world vnseen ; and when hee is forced into the light , shewes by his actions that his obscuritie was neither from affectation nor weaknesse . His purposes are neither so variable as may argue inconstancy ; nor obstinately vnchangeable , but framed according to his after-wits , or the strength of new occasions . He is both an apt scholar and an excellent master ; for both euerie thing hee sees informes him , and his minde inriched with plentifull obseruation can giue the best precepts . His free discourse runnes backe to the ages past , and recouers euents out of memory , and then preuenteth Tyme in flying forward to future things ; and comparing one with the other can giue a verdict well-neere propheticall : wherein his coniectures are better than anothers iudgements . His passions are so many good seruants , which stand in a diligent attendance ready to be commanded by reason , by religion ; and if at any time forgetting their duty they be mis-carried to rebell , hee can first conceale their mutiny ; then suppresse it . In all his iust and worthy designes he is neuer at a losse , but hath so proiected all his courses , that a second begins where the first failed ; and fetcheth strength from that which succeeded not . There be wrongs which he will not see ; neither doth he alwayes looke that way which hee meaneth ; nor take notice of his secret smarts , when they come from great ones . In good turnes he loues not to owe more than he must ; in euill to owe and not pay . Iust censures hee deserues not , for hee liues without the compasse of an aduersarie ; vniust he contemneth , and had rather suffer false infamie to die alone , than lay hands vpon it in an open violence . He confineth himselfe in the circle of his own affaires , and lists not to thrust his finger into a needlesse fire . He stands like a Center vnmoued , while the circumference of his estate is drawen aboue , beneath , about him . Finally , his wit hath cost him much , and he can both keepe , and value , and imploy it . He is his owne Lawyer ; the treasurie of knowledge , the oracle of counsell ; blinde in no mans cause , best-sighted in his owne . The Characterisme of an Honest man. HE looks not to what hee might doe , but what hee should ; Iustice is his first guide , the second law of his actions is expedience . He had rather complaine than offend , & hates sinne more for the indignitie of it , than the danger : his simple vprightnesse workes in him that confidence , which oft-times wrongs him , and giues aduantage to the subtle , when he rather pities their faithlesnes , than repents of his credulitie : he hath but one heart , and that lies open to sight ; and were it not for discretion , hee neuer thinks ought , whereof he would auoid a witnesse : his word is his parchment , and his yea his oath , which he will not violate for feare , or for losse . The mishaps of following euents may cause him to blame his prouidence , can neuer cause him to eat his promise : neither sayth he , This I saw not ; but This I sayd . When he is made his friends Executour , hee defrayes debts , payes legacies , and scorneth to gaine by orphans , or to ransack graues ; and therefore will be true to a dead friend , because he sees him not . All his dealings are square , & aboue the boord : he bewrayes the fault of what he selles , and restores the ouerseene gaine of a false reckoning . He esteemes a bribe venomous , tho it come guilded ouer with the colour of gratuitie . His cheeks are neuer stained with the blushes of recantation ; neither doth his tongue falter to make good a lie with the secret glosses of double or reserued senses ; and when his name is traduced , his innocencie beares him out with courage : then , lo , hee goes on the plaine way of truth , and will either triumph in his integritie , or suffer with it . His conscience ouer-rules his prouidence : so as in all things , good or ill , he respects the nature of the actions , not the sequell . If he see what he must do , let God see what shall follow . He neuer loadeth himselfe with burdens aboue his strength , beyond his will ; and once bound , what he can he will do ; neither doth he will but what he can do . His eare is the Sanctuary of his absent friends name , of his present friends secret ; neither of them can mis-carry in his trust . Hee remembers the wrongs of his youth , and repayes them with that vsury which he himselfe would not take . He would rather want than borow , and begge than not pay : his faire conditions are without dissembling ; and hee loues actions aboue words . Finally , hee hates falshood worse than death : he is a faithfull client of truth ; no mans enemie ; and , it is a question , Whether more another mans friend , or his owne ; and if there were no heauen , yet he would be vertuous . The Characterism of the Faithfull man. HIs eyes haue no other obiects , but absent & inuisible ; which they see so cleerly , as that to them sense is blind : that which is present they see not ; if I may not rather say , that what is past or future is present to them . Heerin he exceeds all others , that to him nothing is impossible , nothing difficult , whether to beare , or vndertake . He walkes euery day with his Maker , and talkes with him familiarly , and liues euer in heauen , and sees all earthly things beneath him : when he goes in , to conuerse with God , he weares not his owne clothes , but takes them still out of the rich Wardrobe of his Redeemer , and then dare boldly prease in , and challenge a blessing . The celestiall spirits do not scorne his company , yea his seruice . He deales in these worldly affaires as a stranger , and hath his heart euer at home : without a written warrant he dare doe nothing , and with it , any thing . His warre is perpetuall , without truce , without intermission ; and his victorie certaine : hee meets with the infernall powers , and tramples them vnder feet . The shield that he euer beares before him , can neither be missed , nor pierced : if his hand be wounded , yet his heart is safe : he is often tripped , seldome foiled ; and if somtimes foiled , neuer vanquished . Hee hath white hands , and a cleane soule , fit to lodge God in , all the roomes wherof are set apart for his Holinesse : Iniquitie hath oft called at the doore , and craued entertainment , but with a repulse : or if sin of force will be his tenant ; his lord hee can not . His faults are few , and those he hath , God will not see . He is allied so high , that he dare call God Father , his Sauior Brother , heauen his Patrimonie , and thinks it no presumption to trust to the attendance of Angels . His vnderstanding is inlightened with the beames of diuine truth ; God hath acquainted him with his will ; and what hee knowes hee dare confesse : there is not more loue in his heart , than libertie in his tongue . If torments stand betwixt him and Christ , if death , he contemnes them ; and if his owne parents lie in his way to God , his holy carelesnesse makes them his footsteps . His experiments haue drawen forth rules of confidence , which hee dares oppose against all the feares of distrust ; wherein hee thinkes it safe to charge God with what he hath done ; with what hee hath promised : Examples are his proofes ; and Instances his demonstrations . What hath God giuen which hee can not giue ? What haue others suffered which hee may not be enabled to indure ? Is he threatned banishment ? There hee sees the Deare Euangelist in Pathmos cutting in pieces : hee sees Esay vnder the saw . Drowning ? hee sees Ionas diuing into the liuing gulfe . Burning ? he sees the three children in the hote walke of the furnace . Deuouring ? hee sees Daniel in the sealed den amids his terrible companions . Stoning ? hee sees the first Martyr vnder his heape of many graue-stones . Heading ? loe there the Baptists necke bleeding in Herodias platter . He emulates their paine , their strength , their glorie . Hee wearies not himselfe with cares ; for hee knowes hee liues not of his owne cost : not idlely omitting meanes , but not vsing them with diffidence . In the midst of ill rumors and amazements his countenance changeth not ; for hee knowes both whom hee hath trusted , & whither death can lead him . He is not so sure he shall die , as that hee shall be restored ; and out-faceth his death with his resurrection . Finally , hee is rich in workes , busie in obedience , cheerefull and vnmooued in expectation ; better with euils , in common opinion miserable , but in true iudgement more than a man. Of the Humble man. HE is a friendly enemy to himselfe : for tho hee be not out of his owne fauor , no man sets so low a value of his worth as himselfe , not out of ignorance , or carelesnesse , but of a voluntary and meeke deiectednesse . Hee admires euery thing in another , whiles the same or better in himselfe he thinks not vnworthily contemned : his eies are full of his owne wants , and others perfections . He loues rather to giue , than take honour , not in a fashion of complementall courtesie , but in simplicitie of his iudgement ; neither doth hee fret at those , on whom hee forceth precedencie , as one that hoped their modestie would haue refused ; but holdes his minde vnfainedly below his place , and is readie to go lower ( if need be ) without discontentment : When hee hath but his due , hee magnifieth courtesie , and disclaimes his deserts . Hee can be more ashamed of honor , than grieued with contempt ; because hee thinkes that causelesse , this deserued . His face , his carriage , his habit , sauor of lowlinesse without affectation , and yet he is much vnder that he seemeth . His words are few & soft , neuer either peremptory or censorious ; because he thinks both ech man more wise , and none more faulty than himselfe : and when hee approcheth to the throne of God , he is so taken vp with the diuine greatnesse , that in his owne eyes he is either vile or nothing . Places of publique charge are faine to sue to him , and hale him out of his chosen obscuritie ; which he holds off , not cunningly to cause importunitie , but sincerely in the conscience of his defects . Hee frequenteth not the stages of common resorts , and then alone thinks himselfe in his naturall element , when he is shrowded within his owne walles . Hee is euer iealous ouer himselfe , and still suspecteth that which others applaud . There is no better obiect of beneficence , for what hee receiues , hee ascribes meerly to the bountie of the giuer ; nothing to merit . He emulates no man in any thing but goodnesse , and that with more desire , than hope to ouertake , No man is so contented with his little , and so patient vnder miseries , because he knowes the greatest euils are below his sins , and the least fauours aboue his deseruings . Hee walks euer in awe , and dare not but subiect euery word & action to an hie and iust censure . He is a lowly valley sweetly planted , and well watered ; the proud mans earth , whereon he trampleth ; but secretly full of wealthie mines , more worth than he that walks ouer them ; a rich stone set in lead ; and lastly , a true Temple of God built with a low roofe . The Character of a Valiant man. HEe vndertakes without rashnesse , and performes without fearer● he seeks not for dangers ; but when they find him , he beares them ouer with courage , with successe . He hath oft times lookt death in the face , and passed by it with a smile , & when hee sees he must yeeld , doth at once welcome and contemne it . He forecasts the worst of all euents , & incounters them before they come in a secret and mentall warre ; and if the suddennesse of an inexpected euill haue surprized his thoughts , & infected his cheekes with palenesse ; he hath no sooner digested it in his conceit , than he gathers vp himselfe , and insults ouer mischiefe . He is the maister of himselfe , and subdues his passions to reason ; and by this inward victorie workes his owne peace . He is afrayd of nothing but the displeasure of the highest , and runnes away from nothing but sinne : he lookes not on his hands but his cause ; not how strong he is , but how innocent : and where goodnesse is his warrant , he may be ouer-maistered , he can not be foiled . The sword is to him the last of all trials , which he drawes forth still as Defendant , not as Challenger , with a willing kinde of vnwillingnesse : no man can better manage it , with more safety , with more fauor : he had rather haue his blood seene than his backe ; and disdaines life vpon base conditions . No man is more milde to a relenting or vanquish't aduersarie , or more hates to set his foot on a carcase . He had rather smother an iniurie than reuenge himselfe of the impotent : and I know not whether more detests cowardlinesse or crueltie . He talks little , and brags lesse ; and loues rather the silent language of the hand ; to be seene than heard . He lies euer close within himselfe , armed with wise resolution , and will not be discouered but by death or danger . He is neither prodigall of blood to mis-spend it idlely , nor niggardly to grudge it when either God calles for it , or his Countrey ; neither is hee more liberall of his owne life , than of others . His power is limited by his will , and he holds it the noblest reuenge , that he might hurt and doth not . Hee commands without tyrannie & imperiousnesse , obeies without seruilitie , and changes not his minde with his estate . The height of his spirits ouer-looks all casualties , and his boldnesse proceeds neither from ignorance nor senselesnesse : but first he values euils , and then despises them : he is so ballanced with wisdome , that he floats steddilie in the midst of all tempests . Deliberate in his purposes , firme in resolution , bolde in enterprising , vnwearied in atchieuing , and howsoeuer happy in successe : and if euer he be ouercome , his heart yeelds last . The Patient man. THe Patient man is made of a mettall , not so hard as flexible : his shoulders are large , fit for a load of iniuries ; which he beares not out of basenesse and cowardlinesse , because he dare not reuenge , but out of Christian fortitude , because he may not : hee hath so conquered himself , that wrongs can not conquer him ; & heerin alone findes , that victorie consists in yeelding . Hee is aboue nature , while hee seemes below himselfe . The vilest creature knowes how to turne againe ; but to command himselfe not to resist being vrged is more than heroicall . His constructions are ouer full or charitie and fauor ; either this wrong was not done , or not with intent of wrong , or if that , vpon mis-information ; or if none of these , rashnesse ( tho a fault ) shall serue for an excuse . Himselfe craues the offenders pardon , before his confession ; and a slight answer contents where the offended desires to forgiue . Hee is Gods best witnesse , and when hee stands before the barre for trueth , his tongue is calmly free , his forhead firme , and hee with erect and setled countenance heares his vniust sentence , and reioyces in it . The Iailers that attend him are to him his pages of honour ; his dungeon the lower part of the vault of heauen ; his racke or wheele the staires of his ascent to glorie : he challengeth his executioners , and incounters the fiercest paines with strength of resolution ; and while he suffers , the beholders pitse him , the tormentours complaine of wearinesse , and both of them wonder . No anguish can maister him , whether by violence or by lingring . He accounts expectation no punishment , and can abide to haue his hopes adiourned till a new day . Good lawes serue for his protection , not for his reuenge ; and his own power , to auoid indignities , not to returne them . His hopes are so strong , that they can insult ouer the greatest discouragements ; and his apprehensions so deep , that when he hath once fastened , hee sooner leaueth his life than his hold . Neither time nor peruersnesse can make him cast off his charitable endeuors , and despaire of preuailing ; but in spight of all crosses , and all denials , he redoubleth his beneficiall offers of loue . Hee trieth the sea after many ship-wracks , and beates still at that doore which hee neuer saw opened . Contrarietie of euents doth but exercise , not dismay him ; and when crosses afflict him , he sees a diuine hand inuisibly striking with these sensible scourges : against which hee dares not rebell , not murmure . Hence all things befall him alike ; and hee goes with the same minde to the shambles and to the folde . His recreations are calme and gentle ; and not more full of relaxation than void of fury . This man onely can turne necessitie into vertue , and put euill to good vse . Hee is the surest friend , the latest and easiest enemie , the greatest conqueror , and so much more happy than others , by how much hee could abide to be more miserable . The True Friend . HIs affections are both vnited and diuided ; vnited to him he loueth ; diuided betwixt another and himselfe ; and his one heart is so parted , that whiles hee hath some , his friend hath all . His choice is led by vertue , or by the best of vertues , religion ; not by gaine , not by pleasure ; yet not without respect of equall condition , of disposition not vnlike ; which once made admits of no change , except hee whom hee loueth be changed quite from himselfe , nor that suddenly , but after long expectation . Extremity doth but fasten him , whiles he like a well-wrought vault lies the stronger by how much more weight hee beares . When necessitie calles him to it , he can be a seruant to his equall , with the same will wherewith he can command his inferior ; and tho he rise to honor , forgets not his familiarity , nor suffers inequalitie of estate to worke strangenesse of countenance ; on the other side , he lifts vp his friend to aduancement , with a willing hand , without out enuie , without dissimulation . When his mate is dead , he accounts himselfe but halfe aliue ; then his loue not dissolued by death deriues it selfe to those orphans which neuer knew the price of their father ; they become the heires of his affection , and the burden of his cares . He embraces a free communitie of all things , saue those which either honesty reserues proper , or nature ; and hates to enioy that which would do his friend more good : his charitie serues to cloake noted infirmities , not by vntruth , not by flattery , but by discreet secrecie ; neither is hee more fauourable in concealement , than round in his priuate reprehensions ; and when anothers simple fidelitie shewes it selfe in his reproofe , he loues his monitor so much the more by how much more he smarteth . His bosome is his friends closet , where he may safely lay vp his cōplaints , his doubts , his cares , and looke how he leaues , so he findes them ; saue for some addition of seasonable counsell for redresse . If some vnhappy suggestion shall either disioint his affection , or breake it , it soone knits againe , and growes the stronger by that stresse . He is so sensible of anothers iniuries , that when his friend is stricken hee cries out , and equally smarteth vntouched , as one affected not sympathy , but with a reall feeling of paine : and in what mischiefe may be preuented he interposeth his aid , and offers to redeeme his friend with himselfe ; no houre can be vnseasonable , no businesse difficult , nor paine grieuous in condition of his ease : and what either doth or suffereth , he neither cares nor desires to haue knowen ; lest he should seem to look for thanks . If hee can therefore steale the performance of a good office vnseene , the conscience of his faithfulnesse heerein is so much sweeter as it is more secret . In fauours done his memorie is fraile , in benefits receiued eternall : hee scorneth either to regard recompence , or not to offer it . He is the comfort of miseries , the guide of difficulties , the ioy of life , the treasure of earth ; and no other than a good Angell clothed in flesh . Of the Truly-Noble . HE stands not vpon what he borrowed of his Ancestours , but thinks he must worke out his owne honor : and if he can not reach the vertue of them that gaue him outward glory by inheritance , he is more abashed of his impotencie , than transported with a great name . Greatnesse doth not make him scornfull and imperious , but rather like the fixed starres , the higher he is , the lesse he desires to seeme . Neither cares he so much for pompe and frothie ostentation , as for the solid truth of Noblenesse . Courtesie and sweet affabilitie can be no more seuered from him , than life from his soule ; not out of a base and seruile popularitie , and desire of ambitious insinuation ; but of a natiue gentlenesse of disposition , and true value of himselfe . His hand is open and bounteous , yet not so , as that he should rather respect his glorie , than his estate ; wherein his wisdome can distinguish betwixt parasites and friends , betwixt changing of fauors and expending them . He scorneth to make his height a priuilege of loosenesse , but accounts his titles vaine , if hee be inferior to others in goodnesse : and thinks hee should be more strict , the more eminent he is ; because hee is more obserued , and now his offences are become exemplar . There is no vertue that hee holds vnfit for ornament , for vse ; nor any vice which he condemnes not as fordid , and a fit companion of basenesse ; and whereof he doth not more hate the blemish , than affect the pleasure . He so studies as one that knowes ignorance can neither purchase honour , nor wield it ; and that knowledge must both guide and grace him . His exercises are from his childhood ingenuous , manly , decent , and such as tend still to wit , valor , actiuitie : and if ( as seldome ) he descend to disports of chance , his games shall neuer make him either pale with feare , or hote with desire of gaine . Hee doth not so vse his followers , as if he thought they were made for nothing but his seruitude ; whose felicitie were onlie to bee commanded and please : wearing them to the backe , and then either finding or framing excuses to discard them emptie ; but vpon all opportunities lets them feele the sweetnesse of their owne seruiceablenesse and his bountie . Silence in officious seruice is the best Oratorie to plead for his respect : all diligence is but lent to him , none lost . His wealth stands in receiuing , his honour in giuing : hee cares not either how many holde of his goodnesse , or to how few hee is beholden : and if hee haue cast away fauours , he hates either to vpbraid them to his enemie , or to challenge restitution . None can be more pitifull to the distressed , or more prone to succour ; and then most , where is least meanes to solicit , least possibilitie of requitall . He is equally addressed to warre & peace ; and knowes not more how to command others , than how to be his countries seruant in both . He is more carefull to giue true honor to his Maker , than to receiue ciuill honour from men . Hee knowes that this seruice is free and noble , and euer loaded with sincere glorie ; and how vaine it is to hunt after applause from the world , till he be sure of him that moldeth all hearts , and powreth contempt on Princes ; and shortly , so demeanes himselfe , as one that accounts the bodie of Nobilitie to consist in Blood , the soule in the eminence of Vertue . Of the Good Magistrate . HE is the faithfull Deputie of his Maker , whose obedience is the rule whereby he ruleth : his brest is the Ocean whereinto all the cares of priuate men emptie themselues ; which as hee receiues without complaint and ouerflowing , so he sends them forth againe by a wise conueyance in the streames of iustice : his doores , his eares are euer open to suters ; and not who comes first speeds well , but whose cause is best . His nights , his meales are short and interrupted ; all which hee beares well , because hee knowes himselfe made for a publique seruant of peace and iustice . Hee sits quietly at the sterne , & commands one to the top-saile , another to the maine , a third to the plummet , a fourth to the anchor , as hee sees the need of their course and weather requires ; and doth no lesse by his tongue , than all the Mariners with their hands . On the bench he is another from himselfe at home ; now all priuate respects of blood , alliance , amitie are forgotten ; and if his own sonne come vnder triall , hee knowes him not : Pitie , which in all others is woont to bee the best praise of humanitie , & the fruit of Christian loue , is by him throwen ouer the barre for corruption : as for Fauour the false Aduocate of the gracious , he allowes him not to appeare in the Court ; there only causes are heard speake , not persons : Eloquence is then only not discouraged , when she serues for a client of truth : meere Narrations are allowed in this Oratory , not Proemes , not Excursions , not Glosses : Truth must strip herselfe , and come in naked to his barre , without false bodies , or colours , without disguises : A bribe in his closet , or a letter on the bench , or the whispering and winks of a great neighbour are answered with an angry and courageous repulse . Displeasure , reuenge , recompense stand on both sides the bench , but he scornes to turne his eye towards them ; looking only right forward at Equitie , which stands full before him . His sentence is euer deliberate and guided with ripe wisdome , yet his hand is slower than his tongue ; but when he is vrged by occasion either to doome or execution , he shewes how much hee hateth mercifull iniustice : neither can his resolution or act be reuersed with partiall importunitie . His forhead is rugged and seuere , able to discountenance villanie , yet his words are more awfull than his brow , and his hand than his wordes . I know not whether he be more feared or loued , both affections are so sweetly contempered in all hearts . The good feare him louingly , the middle sort loue him fearefully , and only the wicked man feares him slauishly without loue . He hates to pay priuate wrongs with the aduantage of his office , and if euer he be partiall it is to his enemy . He is not more sage in his gowne than valorous in armes , and increaseth in the rigor of his discipline as the times in danger . His sword hath neither rusted for want of vse , nor surfeteth of blood , but after many threats is vnsheathed , as the dreadfull instrument of diuine reuenge . He is the guard of good lawes , the refuge of innocencie , the Comet of the guiltie , the pay-maister of good deserts , the champian of iustice ; the patron of peace , the tutor of the Church , the father of his Countrey , and as it were another God vpon earth . THE SECOND Booke . Characterismes of Vices . LONDON , Printed by M. B. for Eleazar Edgar , and S. Macham . The Prooeme . I Haue shewed you many faire Vertues : I speak not for them , if their sight can not command affection , let them lose it . They shall please yet better , after you haue troubled your eyes a little with the view of deformities ; and by how much more they please , so much more odious , and like themselues , shall these deformities appeare . This light contraries giue to ech other , in the midst of their enmitie , that one makes the other seeme more good , or ill . Perhaps in some of these ( which thing I do at once feare , and hate ) my stile shall seeme to some lesse graue , more Satyricall ; if you finde me not without cause iealous , let it please you to impute it to the nature of those vices , which will not be otherwise handled . The fashions of some euils are besides the odiousnesse , ridiculous ; which to repeat , is to seeme bitterlie merrie . I abhorre to make sport with wickednesse , and forbid any laughter heere , but of disdaine . Hypocrisie shall lead this ring ; woorthily , I thinke , because both she commeth neerest to Vertue , and is the woorst of Vices . The Hypocrite . AN Hypocrite is the worst kinde of plaier , by so much as he acts the better part ; which hath alwayes two faces , oft times two hearts : That can compose his forhead to sadnesse and grauitie , while hee bids his heart be wanton and carelesse within , and ( in the meane time ) laughs within himselfe , to think how smoothly he hath couzened the beholder . In whose silent face are written the characters of Religion , which his tongue & gestures pronounce , but his hands recant . That hath a cleane face and garment , with a soule soule ; whose mouth belies his heart , and his fingers belie his mouth . Walking early vp into the Citie , he turnes into the great Church , and salutes one of the pillars on one knee , worshipping that God which at home hee cares not for ; while his eye is fixed on some window , on some passenger , and his heart knowes not whither his lips go . Hee rises , and looking about with admiration , complaines of our frozen charitie , commends the ancient . At Church hee will euer sit where hee may bee seene best , and in the midst of the Sermon pulles out his Tables in haste , as if he feared to leese that note ; when hee writes either his forgotten errand , or nothing : then he turnes his bible with a noise , to seeke an omitted quotation ; and folds the lease , as if hee had found it ; and askes aloud the name of the Preacher , and repeats it , whom hee publikelie salutes , thanks , praises , inuites , entertaines with tedious good counsell , with good discourse , if it had come from an honester mouth . Hee can commaund teares , when hee speaks of his youth , indeed because it is past , not because it was sinfull : himselfe is now better , but the times are worse . All other sinnes hee reckons vp with detestation , while hee loues and hides his darling in his bosome . All his speech returnes to himselfe , and euery occurrent drawes in a storie to his owne praise . When he should giue , he looks about him , and sayes WHO SEES ME ? No almes , no prayers fall from him without a witnesse ; belike lest God should denie , that hee hath receiued them : and when hee hath done ( lest the world should not know it ) his owne mouth is his trumpet to proclame it . With the superfluitie of his vsurie , hee builds an Hospitall , and harbors them whom his extortion hath spoiled ; so while hee makes many beggers , he keeps some . Hee turneth all Gnats into Camels , and cares not to vndoe the world for a circumstance . Flesh on a Friday is more abomination to him than his neighbours bed : Hee abhorres more not to vncouer at the name of Iesus , than to sweare by the name of God. When a Rimer reads his Poeme to him , he begges a Copie , and perswades the Presse ; there is nothing that hee dislikes in presence , that in absence hee censures not . He comes to the sicke bed of his stepmother , & weeps , when hee secretly feares her recouerie . He greets his friend in the street with so cleere a countenance , so fast a closure , that the other thinks hee reades his heart in his face ; and shakes hands with an indefinite inuitation of When will you come ? and when his backe is turned , ioyes that he is so well rid of a guest : yet if that guest visit him vnseared , hee counterfeits a smiling welcome , and excuses his chere , when closely he frownes on his wife for too much . He shewes well , and sayes well ; and himselfe is the worst thing he hath . In briefe , hee is the strangers saint , the neighbors disease , the blotte of goodnesse ; a rotten sticke in a darke night , a poppie in a corne field , an ill tempered candle with a great snuffe , that in going out smelles ill ; an Angell abroad , a Diuell at home ; and worse when an Angell , than when a Diuell . The Characterism of the Busie-Bodie . HIs estate is too narrow for his minde , and therefore hee is faine to make himselfe roome in others affaires ; yet euer in pretence of loue . No newes can stir but by his doore ; neither can he know that , which hee must not tell : What euerie man ventures in Guiana voyage , & what they gained he knowes to a haire . Whether Holland will haue peace hee knowes , and on what conditions ; and with what successe is familiar to him ere it bee concluded . No Post can passe him without a question , and rather than he will leese the newes , he rides backe with him to appose him of tidings ; and then to the next man hee meets , hee supplies the wants of his hasty intelligence , and makes vp a perfect tale ; wherewith he so haunteth the patient auditor that after many excuses , hee is faine to indure rather the censure of his maners in running away , than the tediousnesse of an impertinent discourse . His speech is oft broken off with a succession of long parentheses , which he euer vowes to fill vp ere the conclusion , and perhaps would effect it , if the others eare were as vnweariable as his tongue . If hee see but two men talke and reade a letter in the street , hee runnes to them , and asks if he may not be partner of that secret relation ; and if they denie it , hee offers to tell , since hee may not heare , woonders : and then falles vpon the report of the Scotish Mine , or of the great fish taken vp at Linne , or of the freezing of the Thames ; and after many thanks and dismissions is hardly intreated silence . Hee vndertakes as much as he performes little : this man will thrust himselfe forward to be the guide of the way hee knowes not ; and calles at his neighbors window , & asks why his seruants are not at worke . The Market hath no commoditie which hee prizeth not , and which the next table shall not heare recited . His tongue like the taile of Sampsons foxes carries fire-brand , and is enough to set the whole field of the world on a flame . Himselfe beginnes table-talke of his neighbour at anothers boord ; to whom he beares the first newes , and adiures him to conceale the reporter : whose cholericke answer he returnes to his first host , inlarged with a second edition : so , as it vses to be done in the fight of vnwilling mastiues , hee claps ech on the side apart , and prouokes them to an eager conflict . There can no Act passe without his Comment , which is euer far-fetch't , rash , suspicious , delatorie . His eares are long , and his eyes quicke , but most of all to imperfections , which as he easily sees , so he increases with intermedling . Hee harbours another mans seruant , and amiddes his entertainment asks what fare is vsuall at home , what houres are kept , what talke passeth their meales , what his masters disposition is , what his gouernment , what his guests ? And when hee hath by curious inquiries extracted all the iuice and spirit of hoped intelligence , turnes him off whence he came , and works on a new . Hee hates constancie as an ear-then dulnesse , vnfit for men of spirit : and loues to change his worke and his place ; neither yet can hee bee so soone wearie of any place , as euerie place is wearie of him ; for as hee sets himselfe on worke , so others pay him with hatred ; and looke how manie maisters hee hath , so manie enemies : neither is it possible that anie should not hate him , but who know him not . So then hee labours without thanks , talkes without credit , liues without loue , dies without teares , without pitie ; saue that some say it was pitie he died no sooner . The Superstitious . SVperstition is Godlesse religion , deuout impietie . The superstitious is fond in obseruation , seruile in feare , he worships God but as he lifts : he giues God what he asks not , more than he askes ; and all but what he should giue ; and makes more sinnes than the Ten Commandements . This man dares not stirre foorth till his brest be crossed , and his face sprinckled : if but an hare crosse him the way , he returnes ; or if his iourney began vnawares on the dismall day ; or if hee stumbled at the threshold . If he see a snake vnkilled , hee feares a mischiefe ; if the salt fall towards him , hee lookes pale and red , and is not quiet till one of the waiters haue powred wine on his lappe ; and when hee neeseth , thinks them not his friends that vncouer not . In the morning he listens whether the Crow crieth eeuen or odde , and by that token presages of the weather . If hee heare but a Rauen croke from the next roofe , hee makes his will , or if a Bittour flie ouer his head by night : but if his troubled fancie shall second his thoughts with the dreame of a faire Garden , or greene rushes , or the salutation of a dead friend , hee takes leaue of the world , and sayes he can not liue . Hee will neuer set to Sea but on a Sunday ; neither euer goes without an Erra Pater in his pocket . Saint Pauls day and Saint Swithunes with the Twelue are his Oracles ; which he dares beleeue against the Almanacke . When hee lies sicke on his death-bed , no sinne troubles him so much as that he did once eat flesh on a Friday , no repentance can expiate that ; the rest need none . There is no dreame of his without an interpretation , without a prediction ; and if the euent answer not his exposition , hee expounds it according to the euent . Euery darke groaue and pictured wall strikes him with an awfull but carnall deuotion . Olde wiues and Starres are his counsellers ; his night-spell is his guard , and charmes his Physitians . He weares Paracelsian Characters for the tooth-ache , and a little hallowed wax is his Antidote for all euils . This man is strangely credulous , and calles impossible things , miraculous : If hee heare that some sacred blocke speakes , moues , weepes , smiles , his bare foot carrie him thither with an offering ; and if a danger misse him in the way , his saint hath the thanks . Some wayes he will not go , & some he dares not ; either there are bugs , or hee faineth them ; euery lanterne is a ghost , & euery noise is of chaines . He knowes not why , but his custome is to goe a little about , and to leaue the crosse stil on the right hand . One euent is enough to make a rule ; out of these rules he concludes fashions proper to himselfe ; and nothing can turne him out of his owne course . If he haue done his taske hee is safe , it matters not with what affection . Finally , if God would let him be the caruer of his owne obedience , hee could not haue a better subiect , as he is he can not haue a worse . Characterisme of the Profane . THe Superstitious hath too manie Gods , the Prophane man hath none at all , vnlesse perhaps himselfe bee his owne deitie , and the world his heauen . To matter of religion his heart is a piece of dead flesh , without feeling of loue , of feare , of care , or of paine from the deafe stroakes of a reuenging conscience . Custome of sinne hath wrought this senslesnesse , which now hath beene so long entertained that it pleades prescription , and knowes not to be altered . This is no sudden euill : we are borne sinfull , but haue made our selues prophane ; through manie degrees wee climbe to this height of impietie . At first hee sinned , and cared not ; now hee sinneth , and knoweth not . Appetite is his lord , and reason his seruant , and religion his drudge . Sense is the rule of his beleefe ; and if pietie may be an aduantage , he can at once counterfeit and deride it . When ought succeedeth to him hee sacrifices to his nets , and thanks either his fortune or his wit ; and will rather make a false God , than acknowledge the true : if contrary , he cries out of destiny , & blames him to whom hee will not bee beholden . His conscience would faine speake with him , but he will not heare it ; sets the day , but hee disappoints it ; and when it cries loud for audience , hee drownes the noise with good fellowship . He neuer names God but in his oathes ; neuer thinks of him but in extremity ; & then he knowes not how to thinke of him , because he beginnes but then . He quarrels for the hard conditions of his pleasure , for his future damnation ; and from himselfe layes all the fault vpon his maker ; and from his decree fetcheth excuses of his wickednesse . The ineuitable necessity of Gods counsell makes him desperately carelesse : so with good food he poisons himselfe . Goodnesse is his Minstrell ; neither is anie mirth so cordiall to him as his sport with Gods fooles . Euerie vertue hath his slander , and his iest to laugh it out of fashion : euery vice his colour . His vsuallest theme is the boast of his yoong sinnes , which he can still ioy in , tho he can not commit ; and ( if it may bee ) his speech makes him woorse than hee is . Hee can not thinke of death with patience , without terrour , which he therefore feares worse than hell , because this he is sure of , the other hee but doubts of . Hee comes to Church as to the Theater , sauing that not so willinglie , for companie , for custome , for recreation , perhaps for sleepe ; or to feed his eyes or his eares : as for his soule hee cares no more than if hee had none . He loues none but himselfe , and that not enough to seeke his true good ; neither cares hee on whom hee treads , that he may rise . His life is full of licence , and his practise of outrage . He is hated of God as much as hee hateth goodnesse , and differs little from a diuell , but that he hath a body . The Characterism of the Male-content . HE is neither well full nor fasting ; and tho he abound with cōplaints , yet nothing dislikes him but the present : for what hee condemned while it was , once past hee magnifies , and striues to recall it out of the iawes of Time. What hee hath hee seeth not , his eyes are so taken vp with what he wants ; and what hee sees hee cares not for , because hee cares so much for that which is not . When his friend carues him the best morsell , hee murmures that it is an happie feast wherein each one may cut for himselfe . When a present is sent him , he asks Is this all ? and What no better ? and so accepts it as if hee would haue his friend know how much he is bound to him for vouchsafing to receiue it . It is hard to enterteine him with a proportionable gift . If nothing , he cries out of vnthankfulnesse ; if little , that hee is basely regarded ; if much , hee exclames of flatterie , and expectation of a large requital . Euery blessing hath somwhat to disparage & distaste it : Children bring cares , single life is wilde and solitarie ; Eminency is enuious , retirednesse obscure ; Fasting painfull , satietie vnweldie ; Religion nicely seuere , libertie is lawlesse ; Wealth burdensome , mediocrity contemptible : Euerie thing faulteth either in too much or too little . This man is euer headstrong , and selfe-willed , neither is he alwayes tied to esteeme or pronounce according to reason ; some things he must dislike hee knowes not wherefore , but hee likes them not : and other where rather than not censure , he will accuse a man of vertue . Euerie thing hee medleth with , hee either findeth imperfect , or maketh so : neither is there anie thing that soundeth so harsh in his eare as the commendation of another ; whereto yet perhaps he fashionably and coldly assenteth , but with such an after-clause of exception , as doth more than marre his former allowance : and if hee list not to giue a verball disgrace , yet hee shakes his head and smiles , as if his silence should say , I could and will not . And when himselfe is praised without excesse , hee complaines that such imperfect kindnesse hath not done him right . If but an vnseasonable shower crosse his recreation , he is ready to fall out with heauen , and thinkes hee is wronged if GOD will not take his times when to raine , when to shine . Hee is a slaue to enuie , and loseth flesh with fretting , not so much at his owne infelicitie , as at others good ; neither hath he leasure to ioy in his owne blessings whilest another prospereth . Faine would he see some mutinies , but dare not raise them ; and suffers his lawlesse tongue to walke thorow the dangerous paths of conceited alterations , but so as in good maners hee had rather thrust euery man before him when it comes to acting . Nothing but feare keeps him from conspiracies , and no man is more cruell when hee is not manicled with danger . He speaks nothing but Satyres , and libels , and lodgeth no guests in his heart but rebels . The inconstant and hee agree well in their felicity , which both place in change : but heerein they differ ; the inconstant man affects that which will be , the male-content commonly that which was . Finally , he is a querulous curre , whom no horse can passe by without barking at ; yea , in the deepe silence of night the very moone-shine openeth his clamorous mouth : he is the wheele of a well-couched fire-worke that flies out on all sides , not without scorching it selfe . Euery eare was long agoe wearie of him , and he is now almost wearie of himselfe . Giue him but a little respite , and he will die alone ; of no other death , than others welfare . The Vnconstant . THe inconstant man treads vpō a mouing earth , and keeps no pace . His proceedings are euer headdie and peremptorie ; for hee hath not the patience to consult with reason , but determines meerelie vpon fancie . No man is so hot in the pursute of what hee liketh ; no man sooner wearie . He is fiery in his passions , which yet are not more violent than momentanie : it is a woonder if his loue or hatred last so many dayes as a wonder . His heart is the Inne of all good motions , wherein if they lodge for a night it is well ; by morning they are gone and take no leaue , and if they come that way againe they are entertained as guests , not as friends . At first like another Ecebolius he loued simple trueth , thence diuerting his eyes hee fell in loue with idolatrie ; those heathenish shrines had neuer any more doting and besotted client , and now of late hee is leapt from Rome to Munster , and is growen to giddie Anabaptisme : what he will be next , as yet he knoweth not ; but ere hee haue Wintred his opinion , it will be manifest . Hee is good to make an enemie of ; ill for a friend ; because as there is no trust in his affection , so no rancour in his displeasure . The multitude of his changed purposes brings with it forgetfulnesse ; and not of others more than of himselfe . He sayes , sweares , renounces , because what hee promised hee meant not long enough to make an impression . Heerin alone he is good for a Common-wealth , that hee sets manie on worke , with building , ruining , altering ; and makes more businesse than Time it selfe ; neither is hee a greater enemie to thrift , than to idlenesse . Proprietie is to him enough cause of dislike ; each thing pleases him better that is not his owne . Euen in the best things long continuance is a iust quarrell ; Manna it selfe growes tedious with age , and Noueltie is the highest stile of commendation to the meanest offers : Neither doth he in books and fashions aske How good , but How new . Varietie carries him away with delight , and no vniforme pleasure can be without an irksome fulnesse . Hee is so transformable into all opinions , maners , qualities , that he seemes rather made immediatly of the first matter than of well tempered elements ; and therefore is in possibilitie any thing , or euerie thing ; nothing in present substance . Finally , he is seruile in imitation , waxey to persuasions , wittie to wrong himselfe , a guest in his owne house , an ape of others , and in a word , any thing rather than himselfe . The Flatterer . FLatterie is nothing but false friendship , fawning hypocrisie , dishonest ciuilitie , base merchandize of words , a plausible discord of the heart and lips . The Flatterer is bleare-eyed to ill , and can not see vices ; and his tongue walks euen in one tracke of vniust praises ; and can no more tell how to discommend , than to speake true . His speeches are full of wondring Interiections ; and all his titles are superlatiue , & both of them seldome euer but in presence . His base minde is well matched with a mercenarie tongue , which is a willing slaue to another mans eare ; neither regardeth hee how true , but how pleasing . His Art is nothing but delightfull cozenage , whose rules are smoothing and garded with periurie ; whose scope is to make men fooles , in teaching them to ouer-value themselues ; and to tickle his friends to death . This man is a Porter of all good tales , and mends them in the carriage : One of Fames best friends , and his owne ; that helps to furnish her with those rumors , that may aduantage himselfe . Conscience hath no greater aduersarie ; for when shee is about to play her iust part , of accusation ; he stops her mouth with good termes , and well-neere strangleth her with shifts . Like that subtle fish he turnes himselfe into the colour of euery stone , for a booty . In himselfe hee is nothing , but what pleaseth his GREAT-ONE , whose vertues he can not more extoll , than imitate his imperfections , that hee may thinke his worst gracefull . Let him say it is hote , hee wipes his forhead , and vnbraceth himselfe ; if cold , he shiuers , & calles for a warmer garment . When he walks with his friend hee sweares to him , that no manels is looked at ; no man talked of ; and that whomsoeuer hee vouchsafes to looke on & nod to , is graced enough : That he knoweth not his owne woorth , lest hee should be too happie ; and when he tells what others say in his praise , he interrupts himselfe modestlie , and dares not speake the rest : so his concealement is more insinuating than his speech . He hangs vpon the lips which hee admireth , as if they could let fall nothing but oracles , and finds occasion to cite some approoued sentence vnder the name he honoureth ; and when ought is nobly spoken , both his hands are little enough to blesse him . Sometimes euen in absence hee extolleth his patron , where hee may presume of safe conueiance to his cares ; and in presence so whispereth his commendation , to a common friend , that it may not be vnheard where he meant it . He hath salues for euery sore , to hide them , not to heale them ; complexion for euery face : Sin hath not any more artificiall broker or more impudent band . There is no vice , that hath not from him his colour , his allurement ; and his best seruice is either to further guiltinesse , or smother it . If hee grant euill things inexpedient , or crimes errors , he hath yeelded much ; either thy estate giues priuilege of libertie , or thy youth ; or if neither , What if it be ill , yet it is pleasant ? Honesty to him is nice singularitie , repentance superstitious melancholie , grauitie dulnesse , and all vertue an innocent conceit of the base-minded . In short , he is the moth of liberall mens coats , the eare-wig of the mightie , the bane of Courts , a friend and a slaue to the trencher , and good for nothing but to be a factor for the Diuell . The Slothfull . HE is a religious man , and weares the time in his cloister ; and as the cloake of his doing nothing , pleads contemplation ; yet is hee no whit the leaner for his thoughts , no whit learneder . He takes no lesse care how to spend time , than others how to gaine by the expense ; and when businesse importunes him , is more troubled to forethinke what he must doe , than another to effect it . Summer is out of his fauour for nothing but long dayes , that make no haste to their eeuen . Hee loues still to haue the Sun witnesse of his rising ; and lies long more for lothnesse to dresse him , than will to sleepe : and after some streaking and yawning calles for dinner , vnwashed ; which hauing digested with a sleepe in his chaire , he walks forth to the bench in the Market-place , and looks for companions : whomsoeuer he meets , he stayes with idle questions , and lingring discourse ; how the dayes are longthened , how kindly the weather is , how false the clocke , how forward the Spring , and ends euer with What shall we doe ? It pleases him no lesse to hinder others , than not to worke himselfe . When all the people are gone from Church , hee is left sleeping in his seat alone . Hee enters bonds , and forfeits them by forgetting the day ; and asks his neighbour when his owne field was fallowed , whether the next peece of ground belong not to himselfe . His care is either none , or too late : when Winter is come , after some sharpe visitations , hee looks on his pile of wood , and asks how much was cropped the last Spring . Necessitie driues him to euerie action , and what hee can not auoid , he will yet defer . Euery change troubles him , although to the better ; and his dulnesse counterfeits a kinde of contentment . When he is warned on a Iurie , hee had rather pay the mulct , than appeare . All but that which Nature will not permit , he doth by a deputie , and counts it troublesome to doe nothing , but to doe any thing , yet more . He is wittie in nothing but framing excuses to sit still , which if the occasion yeeld not , he coineth with ease . There is no worke that is not either dangerous , or thanklesse , and whereof he foresees not the inconuenience and gainlesnesse before he enters ; which if it be verified in euent , his next idlenesse hath found a reason to patronize it . He had rather freeze than fetch wood , and chuses rather to steale than worke ; to begge than take paines to steale , and in many things to want than begge . Hee is so loth to leaue his neighbors fire , that he is faine to walke home in the darke ; and if he be not lookt to , weares out the night in the chimney-corner ; or if not that , lies downe in his clothes to saue two labors . He eats , and prayes himselfe asleepe ; and dreames of no other torment but worke . This man is a standing poole , and can not chuse but gather corruption : hee is descried amongst a thousand neighbours by a drie and nastie hand , that still sauors of the sheet ; a beard vncut , vnkembed ; an eye and eare yellow with their excretions ; a coat shaken on , ragged , vnbrush't ; by linnen and face striuing whether shall excell in vncleanlinesse . For bodie hee hath a swollen legge , a duskie and swinish eye , a blowen cheeke , a drawling tongue , an heauie foot , and is nothing but a ●older earth molded with standing water . To conclude , is a man in nothing but in speech and shape . The Couetous . HEe is a seruaunt to himselfe , yea to his seruant ; and doth base homage to that which should be the worst drudge . A liuelesse peece of earth is his master , yea his God , which hee shrines in his coffer , and to which hee sacrifices his heart . Euery face of his coine is a new image , which hee adores with the highest veneration ; yet takes vpon him to be protector of that he worshippeth : which hee feares to keepe , and abhors to lose : not daring to trust either any other God , or his own . Like a true Chymist hee turnes euerie thing into siluer , both what hee should eat , and what he should weare ; and that hee keepes to looke on , not to vse . When hee returnes from his field , he asks , not without much rage , what became of the loose crust in his cup-boord , and who hath rioted amongst his leekes ? He neuer eats good meale , but on his neighbors trencher ; and there hee makes amends to his complaining stomacke for his former and future fasts . He bids his neighbours to dinner , and when they haue done , sends in a trencher for the shot . Once in a yeere perhaps , hee giues himselfe leaue to feast ; and for the time thinks no man more lauish ; Wherein hee lists not to fetch his dishes from farre ; nor will bee beholden to the shambles ; his owne prouision shall furnish his boord with an insensible cost ; and when his guests are parted , talkes how much euery man deuoured , and how many cups were emptied , and feeds his familie with the moldie remnants a moneth after . If his seruant breake but an earthen dish for want of light , hee abates it out of his quarters wages . He chips his bread , & sends it backe to exchange for staler . He lets money , and selles Time for a price ; and will not be importuned either to preuent or defer his day ; and in the meane time looks for secret gratuities , besides the main interest ; which he selles and returnes into the stocke . He breeds of Money to the third generation ; neither hath it sooner any being , than he sets it to beget more . In all things hee affects secrecie and proprietie : hee grudgeth his neighbor the water of his well : and next to stealing hee hates borrowing . In his short and vnquiet sleepes hee dreames of theeues , & runnes to the doore , and names more men than he hath . The least sheafe he euer culles out for Tithe ; and to rob God holdes it the best pastime , the cleerest gaine . This man cries out aboue other ; of the prodigalitie of our times , and telles of the thrift of our forefathers : How that great Prince thought himselfe royally attired , when he bestowed thirteen shillings & foure pence on halfe a sute : How one wedding gown serued our Grandmothers , till they exchanged it for a winding sheet ; and praises plainnesse , not for lesse sinne , but for lesse cost . For himselfe hee is still knowen by his fore-fathers coat , which he meanes with his blessing to bequeath to the many descents of his heires . He neither would be poore , nor be accounted rich . No man complaines so much of want to auoid a Subsidie ; no man is so importunate in begging , so cruell in exaction ; and when hee most complaines of want , hee feares that which he complaines to haue . No way is indirect to wealth ; whether of fraud or violence : Gaine is his godlinesse ; which if conscience go about to preiudice , and grow troublesom by exclaming against , he is condemned for a common barretor . Like another Ahab hee is sicke of the next field , and thinks he is ill seated , while he dwelles by neighbours . Shortly , his neighbors doe not much more hate him , than he himselfe . He cares not ( for no great aduantage ) to lose his friend , pine his bodie , damne his soule ; and would dispach himselfe when corne falles , but that he is loth to cast away money on a cord . The Vaine-glorious . ALl his humour rises vp into the froth of ostentation ; which if it once settle , falles downe into a narrow roome . If the excesse be in the vnderstanding part , all his wit is in print ; the Presse hath left his head emptie ; yea not only what he had , but what hee could borrow without leaue . If his glorie be in his deuotion , he giues not an Almes but on record ; and if he haue once done wel , God heares of it often ; for vpon euery vnkindnesse he is ready to vpbraid him with his merits . Ouer and aboue his owne discharge hee hath some satisfactions to spare for the common treasure . Hee can fulfill the law with ease , and earne God with superfluitie . If hee haue bestowed but a little sum in the glazing , pauing , parieting of Gods house , you shall finde it in the Church-window . Or if a more gallant humour possesse him , hee weares all his land on his backe , and walking hie , lookes ouer his left shoulder , to see if the point of his rapier follow him with a Grace . Hee is proud of another mans horse ; and well mounted thinks euery man wrongs him , that looks not at him . A bare head in the street , doth him more good than a meales meat . Hee sweares bigge at an Ordinarie , and talkes of the Court with a sharpe accent ; neither vouchsafes to name any not honorable , nor those without some terme of familiaritie ; and likes well to see the hearer looke vpon him amazedly , as if he said , How happy is this man that is so great with great ones ! Vnder pretence of seeking for a scroll of newes , hee drawes out an handful of letters endorsed with his owne stile , to the height ; and halfe reading euery title , passes ouer the latter part , with a murmur ; not without signifying , what Lord sent this , what great Ladie the other ; and for what sutes ; the last paper ( as it happens ) is his newes from his honourable friend in the French Court. In the midst of dinner , his Lacquay comes sweating in , with a sealed note from his creditour , who now threatens a speedie arrest , and whispers the ill newes in his Masters eare , when hee aloud names a Counseller of State , and professes to know the imployment . The same messenger he calles with an imperious nod , and after expostulation , where he hath left his fellowes , in his eare sends him for some new spur-leathers or stockings by this time footed ; and when he is gone halfe the roome , recalles him , and sayth aloud , It is no matter , let the greater bagge alone till I come ; and yet againe calling him closer , whispers ( so that all the table may heare ) that if his crimson sute be readie against the day , the rest need no haste . He picks his teeth when his stomacke is emptie , and calles for pheasants at a common Inne . You shall finde him prizing the richert iewels , and fairest horses , when his purse yeelds not money enough for earnest He thrusts himselfe into the prease , before some great Ladies ; and loues to be seene neere the head of a great traine . His talke is how many Mourners hee furnish't with gownes at his fathers funerals , how manie messes ; how rich his coat is , and how ancient , how great his alliance ; what challenges hee hath made and answered ; what exploits he did at Cales or Nieuport : and when hee hath commended others buildings , furnitures , sutes , compares them with his owne . When he hath vndertaken to be the broker for some rich Diamond , he weares it , and pulling off his gloue to stroke vp his haire , thinks no eye should haue any other obiect . Entertaining his friend , he chides his cooke for no better cheere , and names the dishes he meant , and wants . To conclude , hee is euer on the stage , and acts still a glorious part abroad , when no man carries a baser heart , no man is more so . did and carelesse at home . Hee is a Spanish souldier on an Italian Theater ; a bladder full of winde , a skin full of words , a fooles wonder , and a wise-mans foole . The Presumptuous . PResumption is nothing but hope out of his wits , an high house vpon weake pillars . The presumptuous man loues to attempt great things , only because they are hard and rare : his actions are bolde , and venturous , and more full of hazard than vse . He hoiseth saile in a tempest , & sayth neuer any of his Ancestours were drowned : he goes into an infected house , and sayes the plague dares not seaze on noble blood : he runnes on high battlements , gallops downe steepe hilles , rides ouer narrow bridges , walks on weake ice , and neuer thinks , What if I fall ? but , What if I runne ouer and fall not ? He is a confident Alchymist , and braggeth , that the wombe of his furnace hath conceiued a burden that will do all the world good ; which yet hee desires secretly borne , for feare of his owne bondage : in the mean time , his grasse breaks ; yet he vpon better luting , layes wagers of the successe , and promiseth wedges before-hand to his friend . He saith , I will sinne , and be sory , and escape ; either God will not see , or not be angrie , or not punish it ; or remit the measure . If I doe well , he is iust to reward ; if ill , he is mercifull to forgiue . Thus his praises wrong God no lesse than his offence ; and hurt himselfe no lesse than they wrong God. Any patterne is enough to incourage him : shew him the way where any foot hath trod , hee dares follow , altho hee see no steps returning ; what if a thousand haue attempted , and miscarried ; if but one haue preuailed , it sufficeth . He suggests to himself false hopes of neuer too late ; as if hee could command either Time or repentance : and dare deferre the expectation of mercy till betwixt the bridge and the water . Giue him but where to set his foot , and hee will remoue the earth . He foreknowes the mutations of States , the euents of warre , the temper of the seasons ; either his olde prophecie telles it him , or his starres . Yea , hee is no stranger to the Records of Gods secret counsell , but he turnes them ouer , and copies them out at pleasure . I know not whether in all his enterprises hee shew lesse feare , or wisdome : no man promises himselfe more , no man more beleeues himselfe . I will go and sell , and returne and purchase , and spend and leaue my sonnes such estates ; all which if it succeed , he thanks himselfe ; if not , he blames not himselfe . His purposes are measured , not by his abilitie , but his will , and his actions by his purposes . Lastly , he is euer credulous in assent , rash in vndertaking , peremptorie in resoluing , witlesse in proceeding , and in his ending miserable ; which is neuer other , than either the laughter of the wise , or the pitie of fooles . The Distrustfull . THe distrustfull man hath his heart in his eyes , or in his hand ; nothing is sure to him but what he sees , what hee handles : Hee is either very simple , or very false ; and therefore beleeues not others , because he knowes how little himselfe is worthy of beleefe . In spirituall things , either God must leaue a pawne with him , or seeke some other Creditour . All absent things and vnusuall , haue no other , but a conditionall entertainment : they are strange , if true . If he see two neighbours whisper in his presence , he bids them speake out , and charges them to say no more than they can iustify . When he hath committed a message to his seruant , he sends a second after him , to listen how it is deliuered . He is his owne Secretarie , and of his own counsell , for what he hath , for what hee purposeth : and when he telles ouer his bagges , looks thorow the key-hole , to see if hee haue any hidden witnesse , and askes aloud , Who is there ? when no man heares him . He borrowes money when hee needs not , for feare lest others should borrow of him . Hee is euer timorous , and cowardly ; and asks euery mans errand at the doore , ere he opens . After his first sleepe , he starts vp , and askes if the furthest gate were barred , and out of a fearefull sweat calles vp his seruant , and bolts the dore after him ; and then studies whether it were better to lie still and beleeue , or rise and see . Neither is his heart fuller of feares , than his head of strange proiects , and far-fetcht constructions ; What meanes the State , thinke you , in such an action , and whether tends this course : Learne of mee ( if you know not ) The waies of deepe policies are secret , and full of vnknowen windings ; That is their act , this will be their issue : so casting beyond the Moone , he makes wise and iust proceedings suspected . In all his predictions , and imaginations , hee euer lights vpon the worst ; not what is most likely will fall out , but what is most ill . There is nothing that he takes not with the left hand ; no text which his glosse corrupts not . Wordes , oaths , parchments , seales , are but broken reeds ; these shall neuer deceiue him ; he loues no paiments but reall . If but one in an age haue miscarried , by a rare casualtie , he misdoubts the same euent . If but a tile fallen from an hie roofe haue brained a passenger , or the breaking of a coach-wheele haue indangered the burden ; hee sweares hee will keepe home ; or take him to his horse . Hee dares not come to Church , for feare of the croud ; nor spare the Sabbaths labour for feare of the want ; nor come neere the Parliament house , because it should haue beene blowen vp ; What might haue beene , affects him as much as what will be . Argue , vow , protest , sweare , he heares thee , and beleeues himselfe . Hee is a Scepticke , and dare hardly giue credit to his senses which hee hath often arraigned of false intelligence . Hee so liues , as if he thought all the world were theeues , and were not sure whether himselfe were one : Hee is vncharitable in his censures , vnquiet in his feares ; bad enough alwaies , but in his owne opinion much woorse than he is . The Characterism of the Ambitious . AMbition is a proud couetousnes , a dry thirst of honor , the longing disease of reason , an aspiring , and gallant madnesse . The ambitious climes vp high and perillous staires , and neuer cares how to come downe ; the desire of rising hath swallowed vp his feare of a fall . Hauing once cleaued ( like a burre ) to some great mans coat , he resolues not to be shaken off with any small indignities , and finding his holde thorowly fast , casts how to insinuate yet neerer ; and therefore , hee is busie and seruile in his indeuours to please , and all his officious respects turn home to himselfe . He can be at once a slaue to command , an intelligencer to informe , a parasite to sooth and flatter , a champian to defend , an executioner to reuenge ; any thing for an aduantage of fauour . He hath proiected a plot to rise , and woe be to the friend that stands in his way : Hee still haunteth the Court , and his vnquiet spirit haunteth him ; which hauing fetch 't him from the secure peace of his countrey-rest , sets him new and impossible taskes ; & after many disappointments incourages him to trie the same sea in spight of his shipwracks ; and promises better successe . A small hope giues him heart against great difficulties , and drawes on new expense , new seruilitie ; perswading him ( like foolish boyes ) to shoot away a second shaft , that he may finde the first . He yeeldeth , and now secure of the issue , applauds him selfe in that honour , which hee still affecteth , still misseth ; and for the last of all trials , will rather bribe for a troublesome preferment , than returne void of a title . But now when hee finds himselfe desperately crossed , and at once spoiled both of aduancement and hope , both of fruition and possibilitie , all his desire is turned into rage , his thirst is now onely of reuenge ; his tongue sounds of nothing but detraction & slander : Now the place he sought for is base , his riuall vnworthie , his aduersarie iniurious , officers corrupt , Court infectious ; and how well is he that may be his owne man , his owne master ; that may liue safely in a meane distance , at pleasure , free from staruing , free from burning . But if his designes speed well ; ere hee bee warme in that seat , his minde is possessed of an higher . What he hath is but a degree to what he would haue : now he scorneth what hee formerly aspired to ; his successe doth not giue him so much contentment , as prouocation ; neither can he be at rest , so long as he hath one , either to ouerlook , or to match , or to emulate him . When his Countrey-friend comes to visit him , hee carries him vp to the awfull presence ; and now in his sight crouding neerer to the Chaire of State , desires to bee lookt on , desires to be spoken to , by the greatest , and studies how to offer an occasion , lest hee should seeme vnknowen , vnregarded ; and if any gesture of the least grace fall happilie vpon him , he looks backe vpon his friend , lest hee should carelesly let it passe , without a note : and what hee wanteth in sense , he supplies in historie . His disposition is neuer but shamefully vnthankfull ; for vnlesse he haue all , he hath nothing . It must be a large draught , whereof he will not say , that those few droppes do not slake , but inflame him : so still hee thinks himselfe the worse for small fauours . His wit so contriues the likely plots of his promotion , as if hee would steale it away without Gods knowledge , besides his will ; neither doth he euer looke vp , and consult in his forecasts , with the supreme moderator of all things ; as one that thinks honor is ruled by Fortune , and that heauen medleth not with the disposing of these earthly lots : and therefore it is iust with that wise God to defeat his fairest hopes , and to bring him to a losse in the hotest of his chace ; and to cause honour to flie away so much the faster , by how much it is more egerly pursued . Finally , he is an importunate sutor , a corrupt client , a violent vndertaker , a smooth factor , but vntrusty , a restlesse master of his owne ; a bladder puft vp with the winde of hope , and selfe-loue . Hee is in the common body as a Mole in the earth , euer vnquietly casting ; and in one word is nothing but a confused heape of enuie , pride , couetousnesse . The Vnthrift . HE ranges beyond his pale , and liues without compasse . His expence is measured not by abilitie , but will. His pleasures are immoderate , and not honest . A wanton eye , a lickerous tongue , a gamesome hand haue impouerisht him . The vulgar sort call him bountifull , and applaud him while he spends , and recompence him with wishes when he giues , with pitie when he wants : Neither can it be denied that he raught true liberalitie , but ouer-went it . No man could haue liued more laudably , if when he was at the best , he had stayed there . While he is present none of the wealthier guests may pay ought to the shot , without much vehemencie , without danger of vnkindnesse . Vse hath made it vnpleasant to him , not to spend . He is in all things more ambitious of the title of good fellowship than of wisdome . When he looks into the wealthie chest of his father , his conceit suggests that it cannot be emptied ; and while hee takes out some deale euery day , hee perceiues not any diminution ; and when the heape is sensiblie abated , yet still flatters himselfe with enough : One hand couzens the other , and the bellie deceiues both : He doth not so much bestow benefits , as scatter them . True merit doth not cary them , but smoothnesse of adulation : His senses are too much his guides , and his purueyors ; and appetite is his steward . He is an impotent seruant to his lusts ; and knowes not to gouerne either his minde or his purse . Improuidence is euer the companion of vnthriftinesse . This man can not looke beyond the present , & neither thinks , nor cares what shall be ; much lesse suspects what may be : and while he lauishes out his substance in superfluities , thinks hee onely knowes what the world is woorth , and that others ouerprize it . Hee feeles pouertie before he sees it , neuer complaines till hee be pinched with wants ; neuer spares till the bottome , when it is too late either to spend or recouer . Hee is euerie mans friend saue his owne , and then wrongs himselfe most , when he courteth himselfe with most kindnesse . Hee vies Time with the slothfull , and it is an hard match , whether chases away good houres to worse purpose ; the one by doing nothing , the other by idle pastime . Hee hath so dilated himselfe with the beames of prosperitie , that he lies open to all dangers , and cannot gather vp himselfe , on iust warning , to auoid a mischiefe . Hee were good for an Almner , ill for a Steward . Finally , he is the liuing tombe of his fore-fathers , of his posteritie , and when he hath swallowed both , is more emptie than before he deuoured them . The Enuious . HEe feeds on others euils , & hath no disease but his neighbors welfare : whatsoeuer God do for him , he can not be happie with companie ; and if hee were put to chuse , whether hee would rather haue equals in a common felicitie , or superiors in miserie , hee would demurre vpon the election . His eye casts out too much , and neuer returnes home , but to make comparisons with anothers good . He is an ill prizer of forraine commoditie ; worse of his own : for , that , he rates too hie , this vnder value . You shall haue him euer inquiring into the estates of his equals and betters ; wherein he is not more desirous to heare all , than loth to heare any thing ouer-good : and if iust report relate ought better than he would , he redoubles the question , as being hard to beleeue what hee likes not ; and hopes yet , if that be auerred againe to his griefe , that there is somewhat concealed in the relation , which if it were knowen , would argue the commended partie miserable , and blemish him with secret shame . Hee is readie to quarrell with God , because the next field is fairer growen ; and angerly calculates his cost , and time , and tillage . Whom hee dares not openly backbite , nor wound with a direct censure , he strikes smoothly with an ouer-cold praise ; and when hee sees that hee must either maliciously oppugne the the iust praise of another ( which were vnsafe ) or approoue it by assent , he yeeldeth ; but showes withall that his meanes were such , both by nature , and education , that he could not without much neglect , be lesse commendable : So his happinesse shall be made the colour of detraction . When an wholsome law is propounded , he crosseth it , either by open , or close opposition ; not for any incommoditie or inexpedience , but because it proceeded from any mouth , besides his owne ; And it must be a cause rarely plausible , that will not admit some probable contradiction . When his equall should rise to Honor , he striues against it vnseene ; and rather with much cost suborneth great aduersaries ; and when hee sees his resistance vaine , he can giue an hollow gratulation in presence ; but in secret , disparages that aduancement ; either the man is vnfit for the place , or the place for the man ; or if fit , yet lesse gainfull , or more common than opinion ; Whereto he ads , that himselfe might haue had the same dignitie vpon better termes , and refused it . Hee is wittie in deuising suggestions to bring his riuall out of loue , into suspicion . If he be curteous , he is seditiously popular ; if bountifull , he bindes ouer his Clients to a faction ; if succesfull in war , hee is dangerous in peace ; if wealthie , hee laies vp for a day ; if powerfull , nothing wants but opportunitie of rebellion . His submission is ambitious hypocrisie , his religion , politike insinuation ; no action is safe from a iealous construction . When hee receiues an ill report of him whom hee emulates ; hee saith , Fame is partiall , and is wont to blanch mischiefs ; and pleaseth himselfe with hope to finde it worse ; and if Ill-will haue dispersed any more spightful narration , hee layes holde on that , against all witnesses ; and brocheth that rumor for trust , because worst : and when he sees him perfectly miserable , he can at once pitie him , and reioyce . What himselfe can not doe , others shall not : he hath gained well , if hee haue hindred the successe of what he would haue done , and could not . He conceales his best skill , not so as it may not be knowen that he knowes it , but so as it may not be learned ; because he would haue the world misse him . He attained to a soueraigne medicine by the secret legacie of a dying Empericke , whereof he will leaue no heire , lest the praise should be diuided . Finally , he is an enemie to Gods fauors , if they fall beside himselfe ; The best nurse of ill Fame ; A man of the worst diet ; for he consumes himselfe , and delights in pining ; A thorne-hedge couered with nettles ; A peeuish interpreter of good things , and no other then a leane and pale carcase quickened with a feend . 
A36903	----	The informer's doom, or, An unseasonable letter from Utopia directed to the man in the moon giving a full and pleasant account of the arraignment, tryal, and condemnation of all those grand and bitter enemies that disturb and molest all kingdoms and states throughout the Christian world : to which is added (as a caution to honest country-men) the arraignment, tryal, and condemnation of the knavery and cheats that are used in every particular trade in the city of London / presented to the consideration of all the tantivy-lads and lasses in Urope [sic] by a true son of the Church of England. Dunton, John, 1659-1733. 1683 Approx. 175 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 83 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A36903 Wing D2629 ESTC R27312 09808383 ocm 09808383 44134 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A36903) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 44134) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1355:17) The informer's doom, or, An unseasonable letter from Utopia directed to the man in the moon giving a full and pleasant account of the arraignment, tryal, and condemnation of all those grand and bitter enemies that disturb and molest all kingdoms and states throughout the Christian world : to which is added (as a caution to honest country-men) the arraignment, tryal, and condemnation of the knavery and cheats that are used in every particular trade in the city of London / presented to the consideration of all the tantivy-lads and lasses in Urope [sic] by a true son of the Church of England. Dunton, John, 1659-1733. [2], 160 p. : ill. Printed for John Dunton, London : 1683. "Entred according to order." Reproduction of original in the British Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. 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Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Vice -- Anecdotes Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 17th century. 2003-03 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-05 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-06 Rina Kor Sampled and proofread 2003-06 Rina Kor Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-08 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion John Dunton at y e Black Rauen in the Poultrey over agianst the Stocks MArkett London — T : Catlett Sc● THE INFORMER'S DOOM : OR , AN Amazing and Seasonable Letter FROM UTOPIA , Directed to the Man in the MOON . Giving a full and pleasant Account of the Arraignment , Tryal , and Condemnation , of all those grand and bitter Enemies , that disturb and molest all Kingdoms and States , throughout the Christian World. To which is added ( as a caution to honest Country-men ) the Arraignment , Tryal , and Condemnation , of the Knavery and Cheats , that are used in every particular Trade in the City of LONDON . Presented to the consideration of all the Tantivy-Lads and Lasses in VROPE , by a true Son of the Church of ENGLAND . Curiously Illustrated with about Threescore Cuts . Entred according to Order . LONDON , Printed for Iohn Dunton , at the Black-Raven , in the Poultrey , over-against Stocks-Market . 1683. THE Epistle Dedicatory TO THE CITIZENS OF LONDON . Gentlemen , YOu have here presented to your candid View , a full and impartial Account ( with many other remarkable things ) of the Arraignment , Tryal , and Condemnation , of all those grand and bitter Enemies , that disturb all Kingdoms and States , throughout the Christian World , &c. But the Application and Improvment of them is to be ( if you tender your Temporal or Eternal Interest ) made by you , your selves . I am not Insensible that by the exposing this Book I shall expose my self too , to the censure of those who take measure of every thing by their petulant humours , and have no other way to set off ●●eir own barren Inventions , but by perpetual In●●ctives against the multitude of Books which appear every day in the World. Whereas indeed the mischiefs which they complain of have proceeded not from their number , but quality . For should every Man write an exact Narrative of the various Experiences and Circumstances of his Life , comprehending as well his Vices as Vertues , and have them with simplicity related , how useful would this prove to the publick , tho' it would much increase the number of Books , but this so impartial an Account may rather be wisht for than expected , since Men have ever preferred their own private Reputation before the real good of themselves or others . I have comprized this Treatise in an Eighteen Penny Book , ( though considering the Cuts , it cannot be well afforded so ) that as it is of real use and publick concern , so it might be the better disperst throughout this English Nation . I Rest , Dear Fellow-Citizens , Your most Humble Servant , PHILAGATHVS . AN ACCOUNT FROM UTOPIA , OF The late Famous and Remarkable Tryals of all those grand and bitter Enemies that disturb and molest all Kingdoms and States throughout the Christian World. WHen the Assizes were in Vtopia , Conscience the Iudge of that Country , ( attended on by the Sheriff , the Iustices of the Peace , and such as necessarily were to be there ) being seated on the Bench of Impartiality , caused the Commission of Oyer and Terminer to be Read , for the speedy Tryal of all those grand and bitter Enemies that disturbed and molested that Country , and all other Kingdoms and States throughout the Christian World. And the very first that was called to the Bar , was that Grand-He-Rogue Innocent the XI . Pope of Rome . Iayler , set Pope Innocent the XI . to the Bar. Pope , Pope , Hold up thy Hand . Pope , Thou art here Indicted by the Name of Pope Innocent the XI . of the Famous City of Rome , in the Parish of Babylon ; That thou being an illegitimate Son , begotten of Falshood , Murthers , Assasinations , Heresie , Paganism , Iudism , hast by great Violence murder'd the Territories of the Church of God , and by Spanish Inquisition . bloody Massacres , stabbing , poysoning , and killing of Kings , Gun-owder Plots , Treasons , Rebellions , and other hellish Practices , usurped Authority ; and thrust upon God's People their humane Traditions , Inventions , Superstitions , Will-worship , Heresies , Iewish Ceremonies , add Paganish Idolatry , to the damnation of many Christian Souls , contrary to the Peace of our Soveraign Lord the King , his Crown and Dignity : What sayest thou hereunto ? Art thou guilty , or not guilty ? Not guilty my Lord. By whom wilt thou be tryed ? By God and the Country . But ( good my Lord ) let me have a Jury of my own choosing . Iudge , Because neither thou , nor any of thy slanderous Favourites may say , that thou hast been proceeded against rigorously and unjustly , without respect to the Truth of the Cause . I am content to call a Jury of thine approbation , if here we can have so many as will make up the number . I humbly thank you ( my good Lord ) God reward your Lordship for it . Mr. Sheriff , Impannel a Jury of very substantial men , the chiefest you can find , and fittest to go upon this Prisoner now at the Bar. My Lord , I supposed , that as he would crave , so from your Lordships uprightness , he should obtain this Favour , therefore have I prepared a full Iury to this purpose . It was done wisely of you ( Mr. Sheriff ) let them be called . Cryer , Call in the Iury. 1. Call Common Principles . Vous aves Common principles . 2. Call Apostles Creed ; Vous aves , The Creed . 3. Call Second Commandment . Second Commandment , come in . My Lord , I cannot get in . What 's the matter ? My Lord ( saith the Cryer ) the Papists keep him out . Command to let him in : Vous aves , the second Commandment . 4. Call Pater noster : Vous aves , Pater noster . 5. Call Holy Scriptures : Vous aves , Holy Scriptures . 6. Call the Apocripha : Vous aves , Apocripha . 7. Call Counsels : Vous aves , Counsels . 8. Call Ancient Fathers for the first six hundred years after Christ : Vous aves , Ancient Fathers . 9. Call Contradiction among themselves : Vuos aves , Contradiction . 10. Call Absurdity of Opinion : Vous aves , Absurdity of Opinion . 11. Call Consent of their own men : Vous Consent . 12. Call Testimony of Martyrs : Vous aves , Testimony of Martyrs . Count , saith the Clerk. Then the Cryer bids them answer to their Names . Common Principles , one ; Creed two ; Commandments three ; Pater noster four ; Holy Scriptures five ; Apocrypha , six ; Counsels seven ; Fathers eight ; Contradiction , nine ; Absurdity , ten ; Consent of their own men , eleven ; Testimony of Martyrs , twelve : Good men and true stand together , and hear your Charge . My Lord , here are some more summoned by Master Sheriff's Authority . Who be they Master Sheriff ? Master Law with his Sons , Civil , Canon , Common , and Municipal . Well , let them attend the Court for the King's service , for use if need be . Pope , If thou canst justly accept against any , I give thee leave to challenge any such of the Iury. Good my Lord , only one of the Iury I except against , which is Holy Scripture , except it be our own Translation . Holy Scriptures excepted against by Pope Innocent . Well , saith the Iudge , I am content it shall be so , let it be either Montanus , or the Rhemist , or the Vulgar Edition ; we desire a just Proceeding with all the indifferency that may be . Then the Cryer called aloud ; If any man can give Evidence , or can say any thing against the Prisoner at the Bar , let him come in , for he stands upon his Deliverance . Here is my Lord , two worthy Gentlemen , Mr. Sincerity , and Mr. Protestant . Mr. Sincerity and Mr. Protestant witnesses against Pope Innocent . the XI . Master Sincerity come near , what can you say concerning the ●●●soner at the Bar ? My Lord , this I am able to j●stifie : First , That he hath been a False-teacher from the beginning , fraught with Errour and Heresies , teaching as the False-teachers did , such as be recorded in Scripture , if they were paralled together , as the Doctrine of Devils , 1 Tim. 4.1 , 2. Traditions and Commandments of men , Matth. 1. 52. Mar. 7 , 8 , 9 , 33. Col. 2. 22. Venial sins , Matth. 2316 , 18. Childrens neglect of Parents for Churches profit , as they pretented , Matth. 15.5 . Mark 7.11 . Superstitious observation in meats and holy days , Matth. 15.11 . Col. 2.16.21 . Laying heavy burthens upon the people , Luke 11.46 . Iustification by works , therewith troubling the Churches , Gal. 2.18 . & 3.2 . & 5.4 , 12. Voluntary Religion , and Will-worship , Col. 2.4.18.23 . The worship of Angels , Col. 2.18 . Carnal liberty , 2 Pet. 2.19 . Rev. 2.15.20 . And teaching for filthy lucre , 2 Tit. 11. Thus are they , as were the false Teachers ( as the Scriptures in the New Testament set them out ) like in all these things . How like they are ( my Lord ) to after Hereticks , learned Whitaker in his Book De Ecclesia , in the first Question , sheweth in many particulars . Secondly ( my Lord ) he hath used the very same Practices which False-teachers have used ; h●doth to make way for his Doct●●ne , Worship , and Advancement , even as they did . They played the Hypocrites in outward humility in lay Prayers and forms of Devotion , and so misled silly Women . They graced their Doctrine with shew of Fore-fathers . They took away the Key of Knowledge , and neither would enter into life , nor suffer others . They told the pleople old Wives Fables , and told Lyes in Hypocrisie . They used slights and cunning craftiness to deceive . They boasted of their Learning , using prophane and vain babling , and oppositions of Sciences as they termed it . They pretended Revelations , Apostolical Traditions , and alledged counterfeit Writings . They had the Prophetical Women , and deceiving Prophetesses . They had their Miracle-workers , Casters out of Devils , and Dreamers if Dreams . They would slander men's persons , and the Doctrine of faithful Teachers , and lay to their charge what they could not prove , speaking of them contemptuously , and railing on them . They boasted to be the true Church , and that by Succession they were of the Fathers . They would use fair and smoothing words , and teach with enticing words , and did strive for excellency of speech of man's ●isdom to deceive . When they could not prevail by fair means , th●● they would suborn false Witnesses . They threated , beat , imprisoned , banished , and slew the faithful Teachers and Christian Believers . They would plot Conspiracies to the shedding of blood , and the Priests must be acquaint●d herewith before-hand , to encourage them hereto . They would make open Insurrections , and stirs up great Personages to take part with them . And what Rebellion , Treasons , Conspiraci●s , Insurrections , and Persecutions this Pope hath wrought , my Lord Bishop of Lincoln , hath openly discovered to the World. And this ( my Lord ) is not what I could , but what I thought sufficient to testifie at this time , because I would not be tedious . Mr. Sincer●ty , By this you have uttered , it is easie to see how this man hath followed , both the False-teachers in Doctrine , and the Enemies of the Gospel in their Practices . If there be any more Witnesses , let them come forth . Yes , my Lord , here is Mr. Protestant . Mr. Pro●estant , What is it that you have to say against this Prisoner at the Bar ? My Lord , I was commanded to be here to Day to give Evidence what I know against this man ; and this I am willing to do for the Service of my Soveraign . This it is ( my Lord ) which I have to say , That this man with his Associates , hath instead of Christian Religion , set up a Service of Iudaism and Paganism , which I am able to prove in a multi●ude of Particulars ; but because I am loath to be tedious in my relation , I have brought here with me Three Books , that the Iury may judge of all the Particulars ; or that they may be read before the Prisoner , if your Lordship shall be pleased to have it also . What Books , Mr. Protestant ? My Lord , One is that , that is called the Three Conformities set our lately . The other is , De Origine Papatus , set out by one Doctor Morisin , and Dedicated to his late Majesty : And our third is , our learned Country-man , Doctor Raynolds , his Conference with Hart , never answered by any Papist to this day ; who sheweth how the Popish Service is like unto the Iewish in very many particulars , and wherein they be more Heathenish than Iewish . I am content to have them read , to spare your speech , touching the Iewish Service . So having been read , the Iudge yet wished Mr. Protestant to declare openly , how Pagan-like the Pope is , nay , he is as bad as the Heathenish Idolaters in Israel and Iudah were . My Lord , I shall ( saith Mr. Protestant ) perform this task with as great brevity as I may ; that this Prisoner ( if it be possible ) may see how wickedly he hath dealt with Mens Souls , to set up instead of Gods Service an Idolatrous , and Pagan-like Worship . These Pagans set forth God like a Man. The Idolatrous Isralites had a Queen of Heaven ; they had Images of Gold and Silv●r , Brass , Iron , Wood and Stone , and some of Clay ; some molten , some carved and graven , some portrayed upon Walls , and other Pictures ; some were like men , Lam. 3. 1. 1 Sam. 5.3 , 4. and some like women , Act. 19.27 . 2 Maccab. 1.13 . 1 Sam. 31.10 . some like beasts ( like St. George and the Dragon ) Exod. 34. Wisdom . 11.15 . They adorned them with silver and gold . Ier. 10.4 . and set Crowns upon some of their heads , covering them with costly garments , and of divers colours , Deut. 7.25 . Heb. 2.19 . Baruc. 6.8.9 , 14 , 15 29 , 39 , 30 , 55 , 58. Ezek . 16.18 . Aisd . 13.14 . carrying a Scepter in the hand , or a Dagger , or an Axe , Baruc. 6.14.15 . They set them up with great devotion and solemnity , with musick and melody , Dan. 3.3 . with singing dancing , and other delights , Exod. 32.5 . They built Temples for these Images , Ioel , 3.5 . 2 Maccab. 1.13.15 . Baruch , 6.18 . which were the houses of their gods , Iudg. 17. 4. 1 Sam. 5.2 . and called them Sanctuaries , Isa. 16.12 . They had Chappels for them , Amos , 7.12 . Yea , they set upon tops of hills , 1 King. 14.23 . 2 King. 17.10 . They had them in private houses , Iudg. 17.18 . in Chambers , Ezek. 8.12 . and in secret places , Deut. 17.15 . they had their pleasant Groves planted , Ier. 17.2 . 1 King. 14.23 . 2 Cor. 15.16 . 2 King. 17.10 . They had their standing Pillars and Images , as the Papists their Crosses . Deut. 12.3 , & 16.22 . 2 King. 17.10 . Lev. 16.1 . These were in the head of high-wayes , and streets of Cities , Ezek. 16.31 . Ier. 11.13 . The multitude were allured by the gorgeous decking of them , Wis. 14.20 . & 15.5 , 6. Yea , they doted upon them , Ezek. 8.10 , 11. They worshiped them , bowed unto them , and fell down before them , Dan. 13 2. Isa. 44.7 . Ios. 23.6 . They would lift up their eyes unto them , Ezek. 33.25 . Pray unto them 1 King. 18.26 . Hab. 2.16 . Isa. 44. 17. Kiss them , Hos. 13.2 . King. 19.8 . set up Candles before them , Baruch . 6.19 . Make vows on them , Baruch , 6.35 . and go Pilgrimage to some of them very far , Ier. 51.44 . expecting some miraculous cure from the Image , Baruch , 6.41 . In entring into their Temples they sprinkled themselves with water . Altars they had of stone , Isa. 65.3 . They used vain repetitio●s in their prayers , Matth. 6.7 . They measured their Religion , and goodness thereof by plenty , Ier. 44.7 . They had their sacrificing Priests , Act. 14.13 . and they were shaven Priests , Baruch , 6.31.32 . Sometimes they were of the basest of the people , 1 King. 12.31 . whosoever would , might for money , or for money-worth , make himself a Priest , 1 King. 12.31 . 2 Chron. 13.9 . And some served for base wages , Iudg. 17. They had their Concubines , Baruch , 6.11 . Hos. 4.14 . Some of them would wear their hair-cloaths , and torment themselves , 1 Kings 18.26.28 . Zach. 13.4 . and of a Devotion in a Will-worship , macerate their bodies , punishing and not sparing their bodies , Col. 2.23 . Their Teachers taught for hire , Mich. 3. 11. 2 Pet. 2.13 , 15. Rev. 2. Tit. 1.11 . For gifts , they would promise life and peace , Ezek. 13.22 . Ier. 23.14 , 17 In their service they had variety of musick , Dan. 3. Their set holy days ▪ Exod. 32. 2 King. 13. They had their holy women attending their Idol-service , Ezek. 8. ver . 14. working for them , 13.18 . 2 King. 23.7 . and prophesying lies Ezek. 13.22 . and were great worshippers of the Queen of Heaven , Ier. 7.18 . & 44.19 . They had also their several Gods for their several Countries , as Papists have their Saints , 2 King. 17.29 & 18.34 . They would pray to these , and swear by them , Ier. 57. & 12.16 . Gen. 31.53 . 1 King. 19 , 2. 2 King. 17.35 . Zep. 1.5 . Some in Israel which fell to Heathenish Idolatry were like Church-Papists ; for they would worship Idols , and yet go to God's House , and hear his Prophets , Ier. 7.8 , 10. 2 King. 17.14 . Ezek. 14.3 , 7 , & 20. 1 , 31. & 23. 29. When Idolatry was cast out of the Chur●h ( as we have done the Idolatry of Rome ) the Idolaters would condemn it as an ●ll act in them , and speaking against the serving of God aright , as Papists do against us , 2 Kings , 18.22 . They worshipped towards the East , Ezek. 8.16 . They were very superstitious , Acts 19. They lived in very gross ignorance of the Truth , and in liberty of sinning , Isa. 44.18 , 19. & 45.29 . Eph. 4. 18 , 19. Wisd. 14.15 , 16 , 17. They worshipped they knew not what , Iohn 4.22 . Their Festivals after their Idol Service they spent in Eating , Drinking , Singing , Dancing , Exod. 32.6 , 18 , 19. They had their Revellings and Meetings , full of Excess and Riot , 1 Pet. 4.3 . And wonder at , and speak ill of such as would not be like them . They had Brothel-houses , Ezek. 16.24 . 2 Kings 23.17 . 1 Kings 15.12 , 13. & 14.24 . & 22.26 . They had amongst them Conjurers , Wizards , Charmers , Observers of times , Southsayers , Astrologers , Star-gazers , and such like . To these the People resorted and consulted with , 2 Kings 21.6 . 1 Sam. 5.2 . 1 Chron. 10.13 . Hest. 37. & 9.24 . Deut. 18.14 . Isa. 19.3 . & 47.1213 Hos. 4.12 Ezek. 21. 21. Ier. 8.17 . Act. 8.10 . They sacrificed to Nets , and burnt incense to Drags , Hab. 1. 16. They believed that some of their Images were approved of their great God from Heaven , Act. 15.35 . They were cruel and bloodily minded against all that were against their Idolatry , Hos. 10.14 . & 13. 16. 2 King. 21.15 , 16. Iudg. 6.30 . 2 Chr. 24.18.21 . The Idolaters in Israel and Iudah brought in the Heathen , as Gods plague upon them , to punish them for their Idolatry , 2 Chro. 24 , 23. & 21.16 , 17. & 33.11 . & 30.6 , 10 , 17. King. 17.18 . as the Papists have brought the Turks upon the Christian World by their Imagery and Idolatry , Revelations , 9. They were stupid , and without understanding in their Idol-making , and in setting them up to worship them , Isa. 44.14 , 20. and so continued therein obstinate , as the Papists do . And thus have I shewed what I can say ( my Lord ) touching the Heathenish Idolaters and their practices . Your evidence is so clear ( Mr. Protestant ) as hereby all may see how Pagan-like the Pope is in his Imagery , Priests and Temples . Is there any further ●vidence ? Then stands up Mr. Atturney General ; and did prove him to be guilty of high Treason , both against the Person and the Laws of his Sovereign . My Lord ( saith he ) this Fellow under pretence of Religion ( for all must be covered with this shadow ) hath set up another spiritual Head over the Church , besides Christ ( even Antichrist his greatest enemy ( as is sufficiently proved . He hath set up also Mediato●s of Intercession besides Christ ; also in his rebellious pride of heart he hath exalted Man's merit , & made him a part● Saviour of himself , by satisfactory punishments , either here , or in thrir feigned Purgatory . Thus is he a Rebel , and an Abettor of Rebels against Christ. Again , the Law of Christ ( the holy Scripture ) he hath notoriously corrupted , and abused many ways . 1. He maketh it no perfect rule . 2. He teacheth blasphemously that the Original is corrupt , and so shaketh the Faith of all such as rest on the Scriptures . 3. He hath added to them Man's Writings , called Apocrypha , to make them Canonical . 4. He hath feigned a Traditional word , and equalleth the same with the Scri●tures . 5. He debarred for a long time the Translating of God's Word into a known Tongue , to keep the people from the understanding thereof . 6. Being enforced at length to translate it , he hath of ●urpose done it corruptly , and with many u●●outh and obscure words , hath hidden the Truth still , to keep the people in blindness . 7. Yet this their so corrupt and obscure Translation is not admitted indifferently to all , but to some , and to those under license , for which they pay money . 8. These Parties , though they may read the Scriptures , yet must it be with the Popes Spectacles , and may not see farther ●han the False-teacher pleaseth , nor conceive otherwise of the sense , than he suggesteth , though the Text be never so clear of it self . 9. He doth blasphemously publish , that the Scriptures are a Nose of Wa● , a dead letter , sowterly Ink ; dumb Iudges , and a black Gospel , Inkie Divinity ; and may have one sense one time , and another at another time , according to the Churches state and condition . 10. They set up a corrupt Latine Translation ; far as authentical as the Originals in the Hebrew and the Greek . 11. And lastly , He brought into the Church instead of the Holy Bible , a Book of Lyes to be read . Thus is the wicked Wretch guilty of High-treason against our Soveraign . Besides that , He hath counterfeited his Majesty's broad Seal , inventing new Sacraments , never of Christ's ●nstitution ; and hath conspired and plotted the Death of innumerable multitude of his Majesty's Subjects in a most cruel and bloody manner : My Lord ; he is no way longer to be endured ; for we shall never be at peace , as long as he may have liberty to live , for he is a rank Traytor to our King and State , and Underminer of Religion , and the true Church of Christ , and an Enemy to our Peace and Welfare in the Commonwealth . Gentlemen ( saith the Iudge ) you of the Iury have heard Mr. Attorneys Witness ; also what both Mr. Sincerity , and Mr. Protestant have spoken against him : Now that you have heard the Evidence so fully , what say you touching the Prisoner , Is he guilty or no ? Then the Fore-man in the Name of all the rest , answereth , Guilty , my Lord. Whereupon the Iudge turneth to the Prisoner , and saith , Pope Innocent , thou hearest what grievous Iniquities , foul and filthy Abominations , Murthers and Massacres have been laid to thy charge ; thou hast heard the Verdict of these so learned and well-approved Gentlemen , chosen without all partiality to go upon thee : And they in their Judgments , upon their Consciences , have found thee Guilty , what canst thou say for thy self , that Sentence of Death should not be pronounced against thee ? My Lord , the Iury assuredly is corrupted by some means or other , else would they never have found me guilty ; for our learned men have cited many of these in my behalf , and therefore I appeal from them to a General Council , for the tryal of their Honesty in this Verdict . Upon this lewd Surmise , and brazen-faced Accusation , all the Iury fell a murmuring , being much grieved to be taxed of Faithlesness and Perjury . So the worshipful Gentlemen , the Iustices and Mr. Sheriff began to speak in their behalf , but the Iudge standing up , stayed them , and made answer for them . Iudge , To be brief with thee , Thou art shamelesly impudent to accuse these worthy Gentlemen , for justly proceeding according to the clear Evidence to thy face . For thy learned men , they have onely cited the Names of some of these , but without their knowledge or consent . Yea , many Testimonies they bring under their Names , which indeed are proved to be Counterfeits , abusing their unadvised Readers in their unjust defence of thee . As for thy Appeal to a General Council , it is but to set a good face upon an ill Cause ; for thou knowest that we have long desired a Free General Council ? but not a gathering together , like the lewd Convention of Trent . But art thou not ashamed to conceit the bringing of these mens verdict to the tryal ? we must by them be tried , and not they by us . But what canst thou try the Principles of Religion ? Wilt thou deny them ? Must Fathers , Councils , Scriptures , and all be brought under our judgments ? Thou hadst no cause to tax the Jury , if any had been in fault , it should have been the Witnesses ; but canst thou tax Mr. Sincerity of lying , or Mr. Protestant of falshood ? As for Mr. Attorney , his speech is no mor● than your own words , writings , and practice do testifie . Hear therefore thy Sentence , justly deserved before God and men . Iudge , Thou hast been Indicted by the Name of Pope I●nocent , of all these former Treasons , Rebellions , Conspiracies , Gun-powder-plots , Murthers , Massacres , Falsehoods , Heresies , Judaism , and Paganism , and of that thy detestable Idolatry ; and for the same hast been arraigned : Thou hast pleaded Not guilty , hast put thy self upon the Tryal , and being found guilty , having no more to say for thy self , this is the Law. That thou the M●ster of Iniquity , with the old Ser●ent , calleed the Devil , or Satan , thy Father with thy lewd Mother that great Whore , drunk with the blood of the Marty●s of Iesus , which sitteth upon a Scarlet couloured Beast ; as also with that false Prophet , the Son of Perdition , thy Guide and Governour , shall be cast alive where the D●agon is , into the Lake of Fire , burning with Brimstore , there to be tormented with all the marked Ones in the presence of the holy Angels , and in the presence of the Lamb , without rest day and night , the smoak of which Torment shall ascend up for ever and for ever , without mercy or hope of redemption . And so Orders came to the Iayler , that he should be Executed out of hand . The Execution of Pope Innocent the XI . And so the Judge and Court commanded Mr. Implacable a Justice of the Peace in Vtopia to be set to the Bar. Iayler , Set Justice Implacable to the Bar. Iustice Implacable holds up his hand to the Bar. His Indictment . Judge , Iustice Im●lacable , Thou art here Indicted by the Name of Iustice Implacable , In the Parish of Goodness-spight ; for that perniciously and sinfully thou hast maintained and asserted , That no Moderation ought to be shewed to them that differ from thee , in those things which thou thy self callest Indifferent , and this thou hast done in contempt of that Sacred Word , which says , Let your moderation be shewn unto all men . And also , that thou art a man of no good Principles , but a perfect hater of all Pious men , be they of what Perswasion they will. And also , that thou makest dai●y Commotions and Divisions where ever thou comest . Implacable's Answer . Then Implacable answered and said , That he w●s in no respect guilty of those Crimes that were laid to his Charge : And said , As for Disturbances I make none , be●ng my self a man of Peace , and therefore I defie any man for what he can do against me ; I fear not Belzebu● himself , no nor all the raging-roaring Devils in Hell. Proclamation was made . Then Proclamation was made , That they that had ought to say for the Lord the King against the Prisoner at the Bar , should forthwith appear and give in their Evidence ; so there came in three Witnesses , Mr. Moderation , Mr. Heal-breach , and Mr. Quiet . They were then asked , if they knew the Prisoner at the Bar , and what they had to say for their Lord the King against him . Moderation begins . Then stood forth Mr. Moderation , and said to this effect , My Lord , I have known this man a long time , and will attest upon my Oath before this Honourable Bench , That he is — Iu●ge , Hold , give him his Oath ; so they swore him : Then he said , My Lord. This man , not withstanding what he hath said , is a wicked F●llow ; nay , his very Name shews him to be so , he is , as I can call in several Neighbours to attest , one of the vilest men in our Country , he neither regardeth Prince nor People , Law nor Gospel , Civility nor Custom ; but doth all that he came to possess all men with certain of his disloyal Notions ; and in particular , I heard him once my self affirm , that the true Religion was diametrically o posite to his daily practice : By which saving , my Lord , he doth at once not only condem all laudable Things , but us in the doing of them . Iudge , Then did the Iudge say to him , Hast thou any more to say . Moderation , My Lord , I could say much more , only I would not be tedious to the Court ; yet , if need be , when the other Gentlemen have given in their Evidence , rather than any thing shall be wanting that will dispatch him , I will enlarge my Testimony against him : So he was bid stand by . Then they called Mr. Heal-breach , and bid him look upon the Prisoner : They also asked , What he could say for their Lord the King against him ? Then they sware him ; so he began . Mr. Heal-breach , My Lord , I have no great acquaintance with this man , nor do I desire to have farther knowledge of him ; However this I know , That he is a very pestilent Fellow , from some discourse that the other day I had with him in this Town ; for then talking with him , I heard him say , That our Religion was naught , and such by which a man could by no means please God : which saying of his , my Lord , your Lordship very well knows , what necessarily thence will follow ; to wit , That we still do worship in vain , are yet in our sins , and finally shall be damned . And my Lord , he cannot endure a faithful Minister in his Parish . and to be sure , if he knows where such an one preaches , he forthwith sends for a Constable , commanding of him to take him and carry him away to Prison . And my Lord , heee stands Mr. Constable ready to attest what I now say . Mr. Constable ready to attest against Iustice Implacable . Then was Mr. Quiet sworn , and bid say what he knew , in behalf of the Lord the King , against the Prisoner at the Bar. Mr. Quiets Testimony . Mr. Quiet , My Lord and you Gentlemen all , This Fellow I have known of a long time , and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spo●e . He rails daily against Mr. Belief , Mr. True-heart , Mr. Vpright , Mr. Hatebad , Mr. Love-God , Mr. See Truth , Mr. Moderate , Mr. Good-work , Mr. Humble , Mr. Seriousness , and against all that are friends to these worthy persons . And he hath said moreover , That if all men were of his mind , if possible , there is not one of these Gentlemen should have any longer a being in this Town ; Besides he hath not been afraid to rail on you my Lord , , who are now appointed to be his Iudge , calling you an ungodly Villain , with many other such like villifying terms , with which he hath bespattered most of the Gentry of our Town . When Mr. Quiet had told his Tale , the Iudge directed his Speech to the Prisoner at the Bar ; saying , Thou Runnagate , Heretick , and Traytor , hast thou heard what these honest Gentlemen have witnessed against thee ? Implacable , May I speak a few words in my own defence ? Iude , Sirrah , Sirrah , Thou deservest to live no longer , but to be slain immediately upon the place ; yet that all men may see our Gentleness towards thee , though thou art violent towards others ; Let us hear what thou vile Runnagate hast to say . Implacable's last Speech . My Lord , I must confess that I am not altogether free from breaking the Laws , from Violence and Passion ; but yet , good my Lord , for this once , save my life , but if you will not , the Lord have mercy upon my Soul. The Iudges Speech to the Iury. Then the Iudge called to the Iury ( who all this while stood by , to hear and observe ; ) Gentlemen of the Iury , you see this man about whom so great an uproathath been made in this Town ; you have also heard what these worthy Gentlemen have witnessed against him ; also you have heard his Reply and Confession : It lieth now in your breast to hang him , or save his life , therefore do as your judge meet . As soon as ever the Iudge had ended his Speech to the Iury , Mr. Huff a Corporal came into the Court , and said , That if his Lordship pleased to hear his Evidence , he had much to say for the Prisoner at the Bar. Mr. Huff a Corporal takes Implacable's part . But the Iudge told him , That he lookt like a swaggering Fellow , and therefore he and the Iury should give no credit to what he said . Then went the Iury out , whose Names were , Mr. Love-good , Mr. Patience , Mr. Hate-lust , Mr. Live-well , Mr. Low-mind , Mr. Hate-lyes , Mr. Love-light , Mr. Heavenly-mind , Mr. Zealous for God , Mr. Meek-heart , Mr. Piety , Mr. Fidelity : And every one gave in his private Verdict against him among themselves , and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the Iudge . And first among themselves , Mr. Love-good the Foreman , said , I see clearly that this man is an Heretick . Then said Mr. Patience , Away with such a Fellow from the Earth . Ay , said Mr. Hate-lust , for I hate the very looks of him . Then said Mr. Live-well , I could never endure him . Nor I said Mr. Low-mind , for he would always be condemning my way . Hang him , hang him , said Mr. Hate-lyes . A sorry Scrub , said Mr. Love-light . My heart riseth against him , said Mr. Heavenly-mind . He is a Rogue , said Mr. Zeal for God. Hanging is too good for him , said Mr. Meek-heart . Let 's dispatch him out of the way , said Mr. Piety . Then said Mr. Fidelity , Might I have all the world given me , I could not be reconciled to him ; therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death . A Spy set a work by Mr. Implacable . Besides , yonder stands a Spy , one that he set to watch Sincere Christians , for fear they should serve God , and he not having timely notice to disturb them , that can tell more of his Tricks ; but we have enough against him without his Evidence . And so he was presently condemned , to be had from the place where he was , to the place from whence he came , and there to be hanged . They therefore brought him out to be hanged . Thus came Implacable to his end . And 't was observed by some , that there stood a Chariot and a couple of Horses behind the rejoycing multitude that went to see Implacable hanged ) to post away his Soul to Hell. Mr. Implacable posting to Hell. As soon as ever his body was dead , they opened it , and found in his belly twelve Informers , whose Names were as followeth ; Viz. Mr. No-good , Mr. Malice , Mr. Lovelack , Mr. Live-loose , Mr. Heady , Mr. High-mind , Mr. Enmity , Mr. Lyar , Mr. Cruelty , Mr. Hate-light , Mr. Falsity , and Mr. Vncharitable . And in his Heart they found ( to their greater amazement ) Mr. Hot-spur the Constastble , Mr. Envy-good the chief Informer in Vtopia , and Mr. Violence an Headborough ( one that was Brother to Mr. Im●lacable the Justice ) whose Tryals follow next in order . So Mr. Hot-spur was first set to the Bar. Mr. Hot-spur the Constable holding up his hand at the Bar. Then said the Clerk , Hot-spur , Hold up thy hand , Thou art indicted by the name of Hot-spur , For that thou hast wickedly taught and maintained that there is no God , and so no heed to be taken to Serious Religion . This thou hast done against the being , honour , and glory of the King , and against the peace and safety of the Kingdom . What sayest thou ? Art thou guilty of this Indictment , or not ? Hot-spur , Not guilty . Cryer , Call Mr. Honesty , Mr. Vouch-truth , and Mr. Hate-rogue into the Court. So they were called , and they appeared . Clerk , Then said the Clerk , You t●e Witnesses for the King , look upon the Prisoner at the Bar , Do you know him ? Mr. Honesty giving in his Testimony . Then said Master Honesty , Yes , my Lord , we know him , his name is Hotspur , he has been a very pestilent Fellow for many years in this Country . Clerk , You are sure you know him ? Honesty , Know him ! Yes , my Lord , I have heretofore too often been in his company , to be at this time ignorant of him . He is a Tantivy Hot-spur , the Son of a Tantivy Hot-spur , I knew his Grandfather , and his Father , his Brethren , and his Sisters . Clerk , Well said , He standeth here indicted by the name of Hot-spur , &c. and is charged , that he hath maintained and taught that there is no God , and so no heed need be taken to any Religion : What say you the Kings Witnesses , to this ? is he guilty or not ? Honestly . My Lord , I and he were once in Villains-Lane together , and he at that time did briskly talk of divers Opinions , and then and there I heard him say , That for his part he did believe that there was no God. But , said he , I can profess one , and be Religious too , if the company I am in , and the circumstances of other things , said he , shall put me upon it . Clerk. You are sure you heard him say thus . Vouch-Truth . Upon mine Oath , I heard him say thus . Then said the Clerk , Mr. Vouch-Truth , What say you to the Kings Iudges , touching the Prisoner at the Bar ? Mr. Vouch-Truth , giving in his Testimony . Vouch-Truth . My Lord , I formerly was a great Companion of his , ( for the which I now repent me ) and I have often heard him say , and that with great stomachfulness , that he believed there was neither God , Angel , nor Spirit . Cler. Where did you hear him say so ? Vouch-Truth . In Blackmouth-lane , and Blas●hemers-row , and in many other places besides , in the Country of Vtopia . Cler. Have you much knowledge of him ? Vouch-Truth . I know him to be a Rascal , the Son of a Rascal , and an horrible Man , to deny a Deity ; his Fathers Name was Never be good , and he had more Children than this Hot-spur . I have no more to say . Clerk. Mr. Hate-Rogue , look upon the Prisoner at the Bar , do you know him ? Hate-Rogue . My Lord , this Hot-spur is one of the vilest wretches that ever I came near , or had to do with in my Life . I have heard him say that there is no God , I have heard him say that there is no World to come , no Sin , nor Punishment hereafter : and moreover , I have heard him say , That 't was as good to go to a Whore-house , as to go and hear a Sermon in a Meeting-house . Cler. Where did you hear him say these things ? Hate-Rogue . In Drunkards-row , just at Rascal-Lanes-end , at a house in which Mr. Im●iety lived . Besides , he doth Devillishly and Trayterously practice evil things , and say filthy words : He says it is lawful and profitable to a Man to give way to his Carnal desires , and that for his part , he never will deny himself of any sinful delight , as long as his Name is Hot-s●ur . Mr. Hotspur pleading on his Knees . Then said Mr. Hot-spur , being on his Knees , My Lord , I am a Man of high birth , and have been used to a pleasures and pastimes of greatness . I have not been wont to be snub'd for my doings , but have been left to follow my will as if it were Law. And it seems strange to me that I should this day be called into Question for that , that not only I , but many Men , do either secretly or openly countenance . Cler. Sir , we concern not our selves with your greatness ( for the higher , the better you should have been ) but we are concerned , and so are you now , about an Indictment preferred against you . How say you , are you guilty of it , or not ? Hot-spur . Not guilty . Clerk. Cryer , call up more Witnesses to stand forth , and give their Evidence . Cryer . Gentlemen , you the rest of the Witnesses for the King , come in and give in yout Evidence for Our Lord the King , against the Prisoner at the Bar. Mr. Well-doe giving in his Testimony at the Bar. Clerk. Come Mr. Well-doe , look upon the Prisoner at the Bar , do you know him ? Well-do . Yes , my Lord , I know him ? Clerk. What 's his Name ? Well-do His name is Hotspur , he was the Son of one Beastly , and his Mother bare him in Flesh-street ; she was one Evil-concupiscences Daughter . I knew all the Generation of them . Cler. Well said , You have here heard his Indictment , what say you to it , is he guilty of those things charged against him , or no ? Well-do , My Lord , he has as he saith , been a great man indeed ; and greater in Wickedness than by Pedigree , more than a thousand-fold . Cler. But what do you know of his particular Actions . and especially with reference to his Indictment ? Well-do , I know him to be a Swearer , a Lyer , a Sabbath-breaker ; I know him to be a Fornicator , and an unclean Person ; I know him to be guilty of abundance of Evils . He has been to my knowledge a very filthy man. Cler. But where did he use to commit his wickedness , in some private corners , or was he more open and shameless ? Well-do , All the Town over , my Lord. Cler. Come Mr. Good-deed , what have you to say for our Lord the King against the Prisoner at the Bar ? Good-deed , My Lord , all that the first Witness has said I know to be true , and a great deal more besides . Cler. Mr. Hot-spur , do you hear what these three other Gentlemen say ? Hot-spur , I was ever of Opinion that the happiest life that a man could live on earth , was to keep himself from nothing that he desired in the World , and Idefie them all . Several Constables rush in to rescue Mr. Hot-spur As soon as he had said so , he calls several other Constables , for his rescue perceving , it would go ill on his side , but they were kept out o' th' Court. Court. Then said the Court , There hath proceeded enough from his own mouth to lay him open to condemnation , wherefore set him by Jayler , and set Mr. Envy-good the chief Informer in this Country to the 〈◊〉 . Envy-good set to the Bar. Cler. Mr. Envy-good , Thou art here Indicted by the name of Mr. Envy-good ( an Informer in Utopia ) for that thou doest wickedly , illegaly and unseasonably , disturb all good men , where they live ; and dost instigate others to do the same ; and wilt sooner inform against a good Preacher than a Bawdy-house , a Drunkad , or a Swearer Then said Envy-good , I am guilty of no such thing , what I do I do out of Conscience . Court. Then said the Court , the man as you see is incorrigible , he is for maintaining his Villanies by stoutnes of words , and his Rebellion with impudent confidence . Then said Envy-good , Gentlemen , and at this time my Judges , as to the Indictment by which I stand of several Crimes accused before you ; pray attribute my Crimes to mine Age , and not to my wilfulness ; to the craziness of my Brain , and not to the carelessness of my Mind , and then I hope I may by your charity , be excused from great punishment , though I be guilty . Then said the Court , Thy Crimes were not simply of frailty , but of purpose , and for that thou didst loath to keep vertuous things in thy mind . What was bad thou couldest retain , but what was good thou couldst not abide to think of , thy Age therefore , and thy pretended Craziness , thou makest use of to blind the Court withal , and as a cloak to cover thy Knavery . But let us hear what the Witnesses have to say for the King against the Prisoner at the Bar , is he guilty of this Indictment or no ? Mr. Integrity , My Lord , I have heard this Envy-good , the Informer , say , That he could never abide to think of goodness , no not for a quarter o●an hour and he lives next door to the Sign of the Conscience feared with an hot Iron . Cler. Mr. Peaceable , what can you say for our Lord the King , against the Prisoner at the Bar ? My Lord , I know this man well , he is a Knave , the son of a Knave ? he is the scum and froth of the Earth , and a perfect runnagate ; his Fathers name was Love-bad , and as for him I have often heard him say , that he counted the very thoughts of goodness the most burdensome thing in the World. Clerk. Where have you heard him say these words ? Mr. Peaceable . In Flesh-lane , right opposite to the Church . Then said the Clerk , Come Mr. Love the Peace , give in your Evidence concerning the Prisoner at the Bar , about that for which he stands here , indicted before this honourable Court. Love the Peace , My Lord , I have heard him often say , he had rather think of the vilest thing , than of what is contained in the Holy Scriptures . Clerk. Where did you hear him say such grievous words ? Love the Peace , Where I in a great many places ? particularly in Nauseous street , in the house of one Shameless , and in Fi●thlane , at the sign of the Resprobate , next door to the Descent into the pit . Envy-good , My Lord , I never knew what remorse or sorrow meant in all my life ; I am impenetrable , I care for no man , nor can I be pierced with Mens Griefs , their Groans will not enter into my heart ; whomever I mischief , whomever I wrong , to me it is musick , when to others mourning , therefore 't is that I love , not the Scriptures , therefore pray my Lord acquit me . A Ghost appears to Mr. Envy-good publickly . As he was thus speaking , an affrighting Ghost appears to him in the Court , and says that Hell groaned for Him , and guilty he was But Gentlemen , and you now appointed to be my Judges , I deny that my name is Envy-good , and if your Honours shall please to send for any that do intimately know me , or for the Midwife that laid my Mother of me , or for the Gossips that was at my Christning , they will any , or all of them , prove that my name is not Envy-good . Wherefore I cannot plead to this Indictment , for as much as my name is not incerted therein , and as is my true name , so also are my conditions . I was always a man that loved to live at quiet , and what I loved my self , that I thought others might love also . Wherefore when I saw any of my Neighbours to labour under a disquieted mind , I endeavoured to help them what I could , and instances of this good temper of mine , many I could give : As First , When ever I saw any to be disquieted in Vtopia , I presently sought out means to get them quiet again 2. When the ways of the old World , and of Sodom , were in fashion ; if any thing happened to molest those that were for the customs of those times , I laboured to make them quiet again , and to cause them to act without molestation . 3. To come nearer home , if in Vtopia I saw any troubled for sin , I endeavoured by someway , device , invention or other , to labour to bring them to peace again . Wherefore , since I have been always a man of so vertuous a temper , as some say a peace-maker is , and if a peace-maker be so deserving a man , as some have been bold to attest he is , then let me , Gentlemen , be accounted by you , who have a great name for Justice and Equity , for a man that deserveth not this inhumane way of treatment , but liberty , and also a licence to seek damage of those that have been my accusers . Then said the Clerk , Cryer , make a Proclamation . Cryer , O Yes , for as much as the Prisoner at the Bar hath denied his name to be that which is mentioned in the Indictment , the Court requireth that if there be any in this place , that can give information to the Court of the orginal and right name of the Prisoner , they would come forth and give in their Evidence for the Prisoner stands upon his own innocency . Then came two into the Court and desired that they might have leave to speak what they knew concerning the Prisoner at the Bar : The name of the one was Find-right , and the name of the other Tell-truth ; so the Court demanded of these men , if they knew the Prisoner , and what they could say concerning him , for he stands , said they , upon his own Vindication ? Then said Mr. Find-right , My Lord , I — Court. Hold , Give him his Oath , then they sware him . So he proceeded . Find-right . My Lord , I know , and have known this Man from a Child , and can attest that his name is Envy-good ; I knew his Father , whose dame was Mr. Dissembler , and his Mother before she was married , was Mrs. Hypocrite . Mr. Envy-goods Mother , used often to chuck him under the Chin , and play with him , to encourage him in his bad practices . called by the name of Mrs. Hippocrite , and these two when they came together , lived not long without this Son , and when he was born , they called his name Envy-good . I was his Play-fellow , only I was somewhat older than he ; and when his Mother did use to call him home from his play , she used to say Envy-good , Envy-good , come home quick , or I 'll fetch you . Yea , I knew him when he sucked ; and though I was then but little , yet I can remember that when his Mother did use to sit at the door with him , or did play with him in her Arms , she would call him twenty times together , chucking him under the Chin , My little Envy-good , my pretty Envy-good , and O my sweet Rogue E●vy-good ; and again , O my little bird Envy-good ; and how do I love my Child ! The Gossiips also know it is thus , though he has the face to deny it in open Court. Then Mr. Tell-truth was called upon to speak what he knew of him . So they sware him . Then said Mr. Tell-truth , My Lord , all that the former Witness hath said is true ; his name is Envy-good , the Son of Mr. Dislembler , and of Mrs. Hippocrite his mother . And I have in former times seen him angry with those that have called him any thing else but Envy-good , for h● would say , that all such did mock and nick-name him , but this was in the time when Mr. Envy-good was a great man , and when the Informers were the bravest men in Vto ●id . Court. Gentlemen , you have heard what these two men have sworn against the Prisoner at the Bar : and now Mr. Envy-good to you , You have denied your name to be Envy-good , yet you see that these honest men have sworn that that is your name . As to your Plea , in that you are quité besides the matter of your Indictment , you have pleaded for your self , is , that you have denied your name , &c. but here you see we have Witnesses to prove that you are the man. For the peace that you so much boast of making among your Neighbours ; know , that peace that is not a companion of truth and holiness , but that which is without this foundation , is grounded upon a lye , and is both deceitful and damnable : thy Plea therefore has not delivered thee from what by the Indictment thou art charged with , but rather it doth fasten all upon thee . But thou shalt have very fair play ; let us call the Witnesses that are to testifie , as ●o mattter of fact , and see what they have to say for our Lord the King against the Prisoner at the Bar. Clerk Mr. Peaceable , What say you for our Lord the King , against the Prisoner at the Bar. Peaceable , My Lord , This man hath of a long time made it , to my knowledge , his business to keep Vtopia in a sinful quietness in the midst of all her lewdness , filthiness , and turmoils ; and hath said , and that in my hearing , Come , come , let us fly from all trouble on what ground soever it comes , and let us be for a quiet and peaceable life , though it wanteth a good foundation . Clerk. Come Mr. Love the Peace , what have you to say ? Love the Peace , My Lord , I have heard him say , That peace , though in a way of unrighteousness , is better than trouble with truth . Clerk. Where did you hear him say this ? Love the peace , I heard him say it in Folly-yard , at the house of one Mr. Simple , next door to the sign of the Self-deceiver . Yea , he hath said this to my knowledge twenty times in that place . Besides , he sets himself to deface , and untterly to spoil all the remainders of goodness in Vtopia . Clerk. Mr. Envy-good , How could you have the face to plead , Not guilty , when you are manifestly the Doer of so much wickedness ? Envy-good , Sir , I thought I must say something , and as my name is , so I speak : I have been advantaged by lyes before now , and did not know but by speaking lyes , I might have reaped the same benefit now . Clerk. Set him by Iayler , and set Mr. Violence the Headborough to the Bar. Mr. Violence the Headborough brought to the Bar. Mr. Violence , thou art here Indicted by the name of Violence , for that thou dost most trayterously and wickedly shut up all bowels of compassion to the Ministers of Christ : And for that thou dost hale and rout them from place to place , and dost at all times fly from those thoughts that had in them a tendency to lead thee to repentance . What sayst thou to this Indictment ? Guilty or not guilty ? Not guilty of Violence , my Lord , I 'le assure you . Clerk. Call for the Witnesses : What say you the Witnesses to this Prisoner ? Mr. Know-much , My Lord , his Name is Violence , so he hath writ himself in all Papers of concer●s where he has had to do . But these Violent-men love to counterfeit their Names : Mr. Avarice covers himself with the name of Frugality , or the like ; Mr. Flanting can when need is , call himself Mr. Piety , or the like , and so of all the rest of them . Clerk. Mr. Sober , what say you ? Sober , His name is Violence , my Lord ; I have known him from a Child , and he hath done all that wickedness whereof he stands charged in the Indictment ; but there is a company of men that are not acquainted with the danger of damning , therefore make no bones of cursing and damning , and lying . Mr. Violence kills a man , and pleads he did it in his passion . Violence , My Lord. I have always been a man of Courage and Valour , and have not used , when under the greatest clouds , to sneak or hang down the head like a bulrush : And though t' other day I kill'd a man , 't was in passion , and therefore it is I am thus accused . 'T is true , I did not use to consider who was my Foe , nor what the cause was in which I was engaged . 'T was enough to me if I carried it bravely , fought like a man , and came off like a Victor . Therefore my Lord , let me be acquitted . Court. Mr. Violence , You are not here Indicted for that you have been a valiant man , nor for ●our courage and stoutness in times of distress , but for that you have made use of this your pretended valour to draw men into acts of rebellion both against Peace and Love. This is the crime and the thing wherewith thou art charged within the Indictment . But he made no answer to that . Now when the Court had thus far proceeded against the Prisoners at the Bar , then they put them over to the Verdict of their Jury , to whom they did apply themselves after this manner . Gentlemen of the Iury , You have been here , and have seen these men ; you have heard their Indictments , their Pleas , and what the Witnesses have testified against them . Now what remains , is , that you do forthwith withdraw your selves to some place , where without confusion you may consider of what Verdict in a way of truth and righteousnes you ought to bring in for the King against them , and so bring it in accordingly . Then the Iury , to wit , Mr. Prudent , Mr. Harmless , Mr. Good-heed , Mr. Christian , Mr. Love-worth , Mr. Free-love , Mr. Temperate , Mr. Hope-well , Mr. Compassion , Mr. Mercifull , Mr. Self-denial , Mr. Love the peace , withdrew themselves in order to their work : And when they were shut up by themselves , they fell to discourse among them selves in order to the drawing up of their Verdict . And thus Mr. Prudent , for he was the Foreman , began : Gentlemen , quoth he , for the men , the Prisoners at the Bar ; for my part I believe they all deserve death . Very right , said Mr. Harmless , I am wholly of your opinion : O what a mercy is it , said Mr. Good-heed , that such Villains as these are apprehended ! Ai , ai , said Mr. Christian , this is one of the joyfullest days that ever I saw in my life . Then said Mr. Love-worth , I know that if we judge them to death , our Verdict shall stand . Nor do I at all question it , said Mr. Free-love , He said moreover , When all such Beasts as these are cast out of Utopia , what a goodly Country will it be then ! Then said Mr. Temperate , it is not my manner to pass my judgment with rashness , but for these their Crimes are so notorious , and the Witness so palpable , that that man must be wilfully blind who saith , the Prisoners ought not to die . Blessed be God , said Mr. Hope-well , that the Traytors are in safe custody . And I joyn with you in this upon my bare knees , said Mr. Compassion . I am glad also , said Mr. Mercifull . Then said the warm man , and true hearted Mr. Self-denial , Cut the●●off , they have been the plague , and have sought the destru●tion of Utopia , and the Protestant World. Thus therefore being all agreed in their Verdict , they come instantly into the Court. Clerk. Gentlemen of the Iury , answer all to your Names , Mr. Prudent , Mr. Harmless , Mr. Good-heed , Mr. Christian , Mr Love-worth , Mr. Free-love , Mr. Temperate , Mr. Hope-well , Mr. Compassion , Mr. Merciful , Mr. Self-denial , Mr. Vouch-truth , twelve : Good men and true , stand together in your Verdict ; are you all agreed ? Iury. Yes my Lord. Clerk. Who shall speak for you ? Iury. Our Fore-man . Clerk. You the Gentlemen of the Iury being Impanelled for our Lord the King , to serve here in a matter of life and death , ha●e ●eard the tryals of each of these men the Prisoners at the Bar : What say you ? Are they guilty of that , and those Crimes for which they stand here Indicted ; or are they not guilty ? Foreman , Guilty my Lord. Clerk. Look to your Prisoner , Jayler . This was done in the morning , and in the afternoon they received the Sentence of death according to the Law. The Iayler therefore having received such a Charge , put them all in the inward Prison , to preserve them there till the day of Execution , which was to be the next day in the morning . After all these Tryals were over , there came then Constables into the Court puffing and blowing , with all the several distinct sorts of Witches that were in Vtopia . And the chief Constable told the Iudge , that he had Orders to bring those Withces that were there in the Court before his Lordship , that they might be tried for their lives . When the Constable had done speaking , the Iudge commanded the Iayler to set them to the Bar , and they were accordingly set to the Bar , and their Indictment was read , which was this . ( VIZ. ) The several Names given to Witches . Holt , Iarmara , Vinegar-Tom , Sack and Sugar , and you old Hag with your four mps , Elem●uzer , Pyewacket , Peck in the Crown , Grizzel Greedig●t , &c. Hold up your hands , and hear your Charge ; so they all held up their hands whilst their Indictment was read . Which was ; You whose Names are now called over , are Indicted and Arraigned , for that you are all notorious and malicious Witches , and make it your constant trade to bewitch Men , Women , and Children , Cows , Horses , Sheep , Oxen , and every thing besides that disturbs or molests you in the least punctilio ; and that you are the Verminie of the place where you live , and disturbers of the whole Kingdom of Utopia . As soon as ever the Indictment was read , they all cried out unanimously , Not guilty my Lord , ; so the Iudge ordered the Witnesses to be called in , and said , they should ( to make short work of it ) be all tryed at the Bar together : Then there came into the Court Mr. Witch-f●nder General , Mr. Hate-device , and Mr. Spy-Imp , and said , They could prove all the Prisoners at the Bar guilty of hainous Crimes and Offences , and that they were real Witches . Mr. Witch-finder General stands up and gives in his Testimony . With that Mr. Witch-finder General told the Iudge , he could say much against the Prisoners at the Bar , and if his Lordship pleased , would begin to declare what he had to say . Iudge , Pray Mr. Witch-finder let 's hear then what you can say against the Prisoners . Mr. Witch-finder General , my Lord , then first as to Vinegar-Tom , He is a Witch in grain . Vinegar-Tom's Effigies . He is one that can transform himself into all shapes , ( all infallible sign of a Witch ) Sometimes he appears to me like a long-legg'd Greyhound , with an head like an Ox , a long Tail , and broad Eyes ; sometimes he transforms himself into the shape of a Child of four years old ; sometimes into the shape of an old Woman sitting upon a green Pitcher , and then straight-ways vanisheth away , and this I have seen him do often . Iudge . I pray Sir , how gained you the knowledge of these things . Mr. Witch-finder , my Lord , I never travelled far for it , for there was twelve or thirteen Witches in the Town where I lived , who with abundance of Witches from adjacent parts , met every Friday-night at my house , and had there several solemn Sacrifices offered to the Devil , among whom Vinegar-Tom was chief . Iudge , Was Vinegar-Tom ( as you call him ) us'd to have a Teat or hard bunch of flesh under his Arm-pits to demonstrate him a Witch . Mr. Witch-finder , Yes my Lord , he had , and at those Teats his Imps Tog-raggin , Baconface , Long-tayl , Mungrell-nose , and Will-tellus , were used every Night to suck . Mr. Recorder , Of what nature are those Teats , Mr. Witch-finder , they are most commonly insenble , and feel neither Pin , Needle , or Awl , if you thrust them through ; these Teats have their frequent mutations , and variations , sometimes of one colour , and sometimes of another ; sometimes higher , and sometimes lower ; sometimes big , and sometimes little . Mr. Attorney Ceneral , Pray Mr Witch-finder , How comes it to pass , that the Devil being a Spirit ( and so consequentially wanting no Nutriment or Sustentation , should desire to suck any blood ; and indeed as he is a Spirit he cannot draw any excressences , having neither flesh nor bone , and cannot be felt . Mr. Witchfinder , He seeks not their blood , as if he could not subfist without that Nourishment , but he often repairs to them and gets it , the more to aggravate the Witches Damnation , and to put her in mind of her Covenant ; and as he is a Spirit and Prince of the Air , he appears to them in any shape , what he pleases , which shape is assumed by him through joyning of condenced thickned air together ; and by this means 't is , he doth assume the shapes of many Creatures ; but to create any thing , he cannot do it , it is only proper to C. The Devil also useth the Organs of that body he assumes to speak withal , to make his compact up with the Witches . Iudge , I pray Sir resolve me in one thing ( now we are upon the tryal of Witches ) and that is this ; viz. Is it a truth that Witches will swim like a Duck , if they are flung ( tyed by the Thumbs ) into a Pond of Water . Witch-finder General , my Lord , It is a real truth . and the reason is this , because Witches deny their Baptism , when they covenant with the Devil , and Water being the sole Element of Baptism , when they be heaved into the Water , the Water refuseth to receive them into her boso●e , they being such miscreants to deny their Ba●tism but causeth them to float on the top of it ; and this was likewise King Iames his Opinion . Iudge . One Question more I pray resolve me , and that is this , What is the reason that Witches , when they are called either Whores or Thiev●● ▪ or any other bad names , are so ready to wring their hands , and cry out with abundance of tears , running , usually , to some Iustice of the Peace to complain of the wrong that is done unto them ; and when they are accused of this damnable sin of Witch-craft , they never alter their countenances , nor let so much as one tear fall . Witch-finder , My Lord , The reason of this is because the Devil hath so hardned their hearts , that they look upon their Heaven-daring sin , of giving up their Souls to the Devil , but as a small thing ; but they think the approbious name of Whore and Thief , will spoil their credit amongst men ; and therefore they are more concern'd for that . Iudge , Well Sir , You may now stand by , for you have very well satisfied us of the nature of Witches in general ; and you have likewise proved satisfactorily , that Vinegar-Tom is a real Witch . But before we proceed to pass Sentence , we will hear what the other two Witnesses , Mr. Hate-devil , and Mr. Spy-imp , have likewise to say against Vinegar-Tom , Sack and Sugar , News Iarmara , Holt the old Hag , and her four Imps , Illemauzer ; Pye-wacket , Peck in the Crown , and Griezel Greedigut , &c. Mr. Hate-devil stands up and speaks to the Iudge . Mr. Hate-devil , My Lord , Mr. Witch-finder General having said enough against Vinegar-Tom , to prove him a Witch , and worthy of death , I pass him by , and shall only give in my Testimony against Sack and Sugar , News Iarmara , &c. And in a word , my Lord , They are notorious Witches all , and deserve Death ( and seeing , my Lord , that the Sacred Scripture says , That thou shalt not suffer a Witch to live , I hope your Lordship will sentence them all to Death . But , my Lord , to come to particulars , they had all of them ( as my Brother Spy-Imp can tell ) an hand in bewitching several men and women , and an whole herd of Cattel in this Country ; and besides , they can , like Vinegar-Tom , transform themselves into all shapes at pleasure . Spy-Imp confirms Hate-devils Testimony . Then stood up Mr. Spy-Imp , and told the Iudge , that he knew what Mr. Hate-devil had attested against the Prisoners at the Bar was really a truth ; and for his own part , he could say no more but what had been said , and what had been said he would swear too , if his Lordship desired it . The old Hag stands up and answers for her self , confessing her Imps Names to the Judge , and the reason how she come to turn Witch . Hag. My Lord , I must confess I am a Witch , and have several Imps , whose Names are Illemauzer , Pye-wacket , Peck in the Crown , Griezel Greedigut ; but I hope your Lordship will spare my life . The reason why some become Witches . Because I had never been a Witch had not Poverty come upon me like an armed man. and that continuing , filled my mind with discontent ; and in that discontented humuor , the Devil striking in , told me , if I would give up my self to him , I should not want as long as I lived . Oh , p●ay my Lord , therefore spare me , spare me , for I had never been a Witch had it not been for Poverty ! Poverty ! Poverty ! and a discontented mind . When she had done speaking , up sta●●● Holt speaks to the Judge , and as she speaks her Imp Scondrel comes and licks her Fingers . And likewise beg'd of the Iudge that her Life might be spar'd , adding withal , that if the Iudge would forgive her , she would confess to his Lordship , The Cheats and Delusions the Devil imposeth upon Witches , and many other remarkable things . When she had done speaking , the Iudge told her , He could not save her life , but if she would make any Confession , he would not put her to so severe Death as she deserv'd both by the Law of God and Man. Holt makes large Confessions of the Wiles of the Devil . Holt , My Lord , ( to begin then ) The Devil doth ( as I now can tell by dreadful experience ) often play th● Deluder and Impostor with Witches , in perswading them that they are the cause of such and such a Murther , and that he hope them in the effecting of it , when indeed neither he nor they had any hand in it : And he being of long standing , above six thousand years , must needs be a great Scholar in all knowledges of Arts and Tongues , and so have the best skill in Physick , judgment in Physiognomy , and knowledge of what Disease is reigning or predominant in this or that mans body , ( and so for Cattel too ) by reason of his long experience . This subtile Tempter knowing such a man liable to some sudden disease , ( as by experience I have found ) As Plurisie , Imposthume , &c. he resorts to divers Witches ; If they know the man , he seeks to make a difference between the Witches and the party , it may be by telling them he hath threatned to have them very shortly searched , and so hanged for Witches ; then they all consult with Satan to save themselves , and Satan stands ready prepared . The Devil's Speech to the Witches . What will you have me to do for you , my dear and nearest children , covenanted and compacted with me in my hellish league , and sealed with your blood , my delicate firebrand-darlings . Oh thou ( say they ) that at the first didst promise to save us thy Servants from any of our deadly Enemies discovery , and didst promise to avenge and slay all those , we pleased , that did offend us ; Murther that Wretch suddenly who threatens the downfall of your loyal Subjects . He then promiseth to effect it : Next news is heard , the party is dead ; he comes to the Witch , and gets a world of reverence , credence , and respect for his power and activeness , when and indeed the Disease kills the party , not the Witch , nor the Devil , ( only the Devil knew that such a Disease was predominant ) and the Witch aggravates her damnation by her familiarity and consent to the Devil , and so comes likewise in compass of the Laws . This is Satans usual i●postring and deluding , but not his constant course of proceeding , for He and the Witch do mishief too much . Iudge , Hold , hold , set her by Iayler , she hath discovered enough to make the whole Court to tremble , and my heart to bleed . As soon as ever she was commanded back to Prison , in order to suffer Death , The Iudge orders the Iury to examine Sack and Sugar , News and Iarmara , with the rest of that vast company of Witches that were then in the Iaylers custody ; but as they were coming into the Court , the Iayler accidentally looking back , they took the opportunity ( fearing the Fate of those that went before ) and vanished all away . Sack and Sugar , Jarmara , News , vanish out of the Court with the rest of the Witches that had not been examined , and it was feared they would multiply to a new brood of Witches in Utopia . As soon as ever the Iudge perceiv'd this unhappy accident , he commanded immediately that the Iury should be impanelled , that Verdict forthwith might be given upon those that were yet in custody ; and accordingly there was a very honest Iury impanelled , who within half an hours time brought in the Verdict , That Vinegar-Tom , Holt , the old Hag , with her four Imps , Illemauzar , Pyewacket , Peck in the Crown , Griezzel Greedigut , & were Witches and grand Criminals , and deserved Death . The Iudge passes Sentence upon the Witches . And so the Iudge past Sentence upon them all , which Sentence was this : Viz. You Vinegar-Tom , Holt , old Hag , with your four Imps , &c. shall return from the place whence you came , and from thence he dragged upon an Hurlde to the chiefest Street in Utopia , there to be buried alive in the mid-day , that all may see your sin and folly , and fly for ever , the first thought that ever shall dare to enter into their minds of making Contracts with a deceitful Devil . After the Tryal of Witches , Mrs. Bad-wife ( otherwise called Mrs. Tittle-tattle , or Prate-to-fast , was order'd to be set to the Bar. Mrs. Bad-wife holding up her hand to the Bar. Her Indictment read by the Iudge himself . Iudge . Mrs. Bad-wife , You are here Indicted by the name of Mrs. Badwife ( or Prate-to-fast ) in the Parish of Gossiping , For that you by your daily Junketings , Revelings , Merry-makings , and for your proud and vain-glorious twatling and boasting , are a stain and blemish to Woman-kind , and a scandal to the place where you live , and a Plaque and Curse to your poor contented Husband . What say you Mrs. Bad-wife , are you guilty of such irregular actions , yea or no. She denies the Crimes laid to her charge . Mrs. Bad-wife , My Lord and please you , I am no ways guilty of what is here laid to my charge , for I regulate my life and domestick affairs , with unspeakable prudence , discretion , and modesty , and never was suspected to be of a gossiping temper , or juncke●ting humour , and love my dear-contented husband as I love my own life . When she had pleaded Not guilty , the Kings Attorney stood up and made the following Speech ; Viz. My Lord , and you Gentlemen of the Iury , My opinion is , that there is little heed to be given to the Assertions of any of the Female Sex ( and none at all to what Mrs. Bad-wife avoucheth in her own behalf . Alas , the Devil knew when he first adventured to sting the woman , and tempt her as the weaker vessel , what a rare Piece he had to deal with , naturally apt to all mischiefs and folly , he knew she was ready to affect all his Plots and purposes , and that she would leap at any opportunity , by which she might disturb the Fabrick of the whole Creation , and bring the World into a woful desolation : Nay , do but observe the Devil's after-works since the Fall , and you 'l see in all ages he hath made use of the Female Sex to atchieve and compass his chiefest Plots and Designs in former times , who were the Engines in Kings , Princes , and Noble-mens Courts , to beget and maintain Vice and Folly , but the Daughters of Eve ; And besides , if all things are not according to their will , there is no peace iu Court or Country , and how frequently do the lascivious sort of them undo men of all sorts and degrees , whilst bewitched with their Syren-tongues , they enchant them and their Estates , Souls and Bodies unto utter desolation . Then were the Witnesses called out , which were , Mrs. Good-huswifry , Mrs. Nim●le , Mrs. Timely-up , Mrs. Chaste , and Mrs. Ever-doing . Iudge , Well Mrs. Good-huswifry , what can you say concerning the Prisoner ? Mrs. Good-houswifry giving in her Testimony against Mrs Bad-wife . Mrs. Good-houswifry , My Lord , this wicked woman Mrs. Bad-wife , keeps holy Exercises out of her house , she never takes car● to have her Children instructed , she approveth of niggardly house-keeping , she breedeth much contention where she liveth , and is hated by all the honest Neigbourhood . My Lord , she makes it her business to go from house to house to gossip and idle away her time ; And now 't is the property of a Good wife to set up a Sail according to the Keel of her husbands Estate ; I believe , my Lord , in a little time she will bring her husband ( good man ) with sorrow to the Grave . But because other Witnesses stand here by me , I will trouble your Lordship with no more Complaints at present . Mrs. Nimb●e giving in her 〈◊〉 . So Mrs. Nimble stood up and said , My Lord , This Prisoner Mrs. Bad-wife is a person not fit to live , for we had in the Town where I liv'd a company of very good Neighbours , whose Names were Mrs. Amity , Mrs. Kindness , Mrs. Gentleness , Mrs. Love , Mrs. Peace , Mrs Charity , Mrs. Ready-good-will , Mrs. Good-turn , with many other such persons , &c. but as soon as ever she came , she routed them all by her ill example , and in their room she brought in Mr. Naked ; Mr. Discord , Mr. Niggardliness , Mr. Strife , Mr. Deceit , Mr. High-mindedness , and Mr. Make-bate ; Therefore my Lord , my judgment is , she ought to suffer Death , or be banisht quite out of Vtopia . Mrs. Timely-up giving in her Testimony . As soon as Mrs. Nimble had done complaining , up stands Mrs. Timely-up , and said , my Lord , I have much to say against Mrs. Bad-wife , and if your Lordship pleases I will begin to speak . Judge , Ay — pray Mrs. Timely-up begin then . Mrs. Timely-up , My Lord , this Mrs. Bad-wife hath forced all H●spitallity out of door , and in his stead ( at the back-door ) hath let in Pride of Apparel , sumptuous Buildings , affectation of vain Titles , and Madam Ambition . Judge , D●d you know her before her marriage ? Mrs. Timely-up , Yes my Lord , I knew her and her husband both before they were married . Iudge . What kind of man was her husband . Mrs. T.V. He was a Leather-seller & a very honest man , and one of an incomparable good humour ; when he was a Batchelor , I could not come to his house , but it was presently , Dear Friend , ( for I was first cosin to him ) How do you , Good morrow , Good-even , I am glad to see you well , will you sit down and eat ; Be not so strange in my house , but take it for your own . for I am yours at command : But now since he 's married , poor contented man , he dares hardly speak to his friends , when they come to see him , and a wink and a nod , is an high favour from him ; my Lord , she spoils all that come near her . Besides , my Lord , she is of a most froward and pievish temper , and her husband ( do what he can ) can never please her . Sometimes her cloaths are not find enough , her Diet sweet enough , her house sumptuous and brave enough , her husbands friends kind enough , and sometimes again she loves not the City , but must have her Country-house , forsooth , and an hundred things more she ayles every hour of the day . But my Lord , I confess I could not forbear laughing at a passage I saw t'other day between her husband and she . Iudge , What was it , speak out , that the whole Conrt may hear Her Husband strives to make her better , but in vain . Mrs. Timely-up , My Lord , It 't was this t'other day as I went by her house , I accidently peep'd in at the window , and there I saw her husband bespeaking of her after this manner , Pray my love , my dear , my sweeti●g , my chick , my child , my honey , my life , my Ioy , ( with an hundred more such endearing expressions ) Be not angry , be not displeased , ask what ever tho● wilt , thou shalt have it , if that thou wilt but let me live at quiet : But , my Lord , for all this kind carriage of her husband , she call'd him Rogue , Rascal , Knave , and bid him be gone , for she could never live at quiet for him , my Lord , I believe she 'll quickly break his heart . When she had ended her speech , Mrs. Badwife stands up and desired that Mrs. Slack , Mrs. Sloathful , Mrs. Careless , Mrs. Wastful , Mrs. Goose-belly , Mrs. Toss-pot Mrs. Wayward , Mrs. Love-bed , Mrs. Drowsie , Mrs. Light-finger , Madam Go-gay , Mrs. Wanderer , Mrs. Spendal , her Witnesses might be called into the Court to speak in her behalf but the Judge stood up and said , That the Court would give no heed to the E●idence of such persons , except she had any better , for he said , their very Names bespoke them sorry persons . The Sentence upon Mrs. Bad-wife . Then said the Judge to the Prisoner , hold up thy hand and hear thy Sentence , viz. You shall return to the place from whence you came , and from thence be Carted to the Great Ducking-stool that is in this Town , and there shall you sit ( in the presence of all the women in Vtopia for a warning to them ) tell you expire out your poysonous and infectious breath . Mrs. Bad-wife put into a Ducking-stool to suffer Death . Soon after the Execution of these Malefactors , the Judge in a great Passion , commanded Sir Iohn Fraud to be set to the Bar. Sir Iohn Fraud set to the Bar. That so likewise the Knavery of all Trades and Professions might be publickly Discovered , Arraigned , and Legally Condemned ; so he was set to the Bar , and his Indictment read : which was this ; viz. His INDICTMENT . Sir John Fraud , Thou art here Indicted by the Name of Sir John Fraud , for that thou art an Vpstart , come out of Italy , begot of Pride , nursed up by Wicked Consciences , ( and brought into this Countrey by thy Father the Devil ) that thou art a Raiser of Rents , an Enemy to this Kingdom , and hast insinuated thy self into all Trades , Estates and Professions throughout the Christian World. When the Indictment was read , the whole Court laughed , and clapt their hands for joy , saying , they hoped now they should see all Roguery come to light : And the Judge spake as follows to the Prisoner ; Iudge . Sir Iohn Fraud , Art thou Guilty , or not Guilty of these Misdemeanors laid to thy Charge ? Prisoner . Not Guilty , my Lord : And I desire to have a Jury impannelled , and then no doubt but the Verdict will be given on my side . The First he desired for one of his Jury was a P●ick-louse Taylor . As he was thus speaking to the Judge , he saw coming down a Hill afar off , a brave dapper Dick , quaintly attired in Velvet and Sattin , and a Cloak of cloth rash , with a Cambrick Ruff as smoothly set , and he as neatly spunged , as if he had been a Bride-groom ; only he guess'd by his pace afar off , he should be a Taylor ; his head was holden up so pert , & his legs shackle-hamm'd , as if his Knees had been lac'd to his Thighs with Points . Coming more near indeed , he spied a Taylor 's Morice-pike on his Breast , a Spanish Needle , and then he fitted his Salutations , not to his Suits , but to his Trade , and encountred him by a thred-bare Courtesie , as if he had not known him , and asked him of what Occupation he was ? A Taylor , quoth he , Marry then my Friend , quoth he , you are the more welcome ; for I must be tried for my Life ; the Matter is come to an Issue , there must a Jury be impannelled upon me , and I would desire and intreat you to be one of the Quest. The Iudge likes not the Man. Not so , quoth the Judge , I challenge him ; for I know he cheats with Silk , Lace , Cloth of Gold , of Silver , and such costly Stuff , to welt , guard , whip , stitch , edge , face , and draw out , that the Vails of one Velvet Breech amounts to I know not what : And I know there is no Taylor so precise , but he can play the Cook , and lick his own Fingers ; though he look up to Heaven , yet he can cast large Shreds of such rich Stuff into Hell under his Shop-Board . Besides , he sets down like the Clerk of the Chancery , a large Bill of Reckonings , which because he keeps long in his pocket , he so powders for stinking , that the young upstart that needs it , feels it salt in his stomack for a month after . Beside , Knavery hath much advanc'd him ; for whereas in my time he was counted but Goodman Taylor , now he is grown to be called a Merchant , or Gentleman , Merchant-Taylor , giving Arms , and the Holy Lamb in his Crest , where before he had no other Cognizance but a plain Spanish Needle , with a Welsh Cricket on the top ; since then his Gain is so great , and his Honour so advanc'd by Knavery , I will not tr●●t his Conscience , neither shall he come upon your Jury . Indeed you have some reason , quoth the Prisoner , to except against him ; but perhaps the Taylor doth this upon meer Devotion , to punish Pride ; and having no other Authority , nor Mean● , thinks it best to pinch them by the Purse , and make them pay well , as to ask them twice so much Silk , Lace , and other stuff as would suffice , and yet to over-reach my young Master with a Bill of Reckonings , that will make him scratch where it itcheth not . Herein I hold the Taylor for a necessary Member , to teach young Novices the way to weeping Cross ; that when they have wasted what their Fathers left them by Pride , they may grow sparing and humble by inferred Poverty ; and by this reason the Taylor after his fashion exalteth the poor , and pulleth down the proud ; for of a wealthy Esquires Son , he makes a thredbare Beggar ; and of a scornful Taylor , he sets up an upstart scurvy Gentleman . Yet seeing My Lord , you have made a reasonable Challenge to him , the Taylor shall be none of the Quest. The Next he desired for a J●ry-man , was a Broker . As Sir Iohn bade the Taylor stand by , there was coming along the Valley towards him a square set Fellow , well fed , and as briskly apparelled , in a black Taffata Doublet , and a sp●nce Leather ●erken , with Crystal Buttons , a Clook fac'd afore with Velvet , and a Coventry Cap of the finest wool , his Face something Ruby Blush , Cherry-cheek'd , like a shred of Scarlet , or a little darker , like the Lees of old Claret Wine , a Nose , autem Nose , purpled preciously with Pearl and Stone , like a counterfeit work , and between the filthy Reumicast of his blood-shotten Snowt , there appeared small Holes , whereat Worms Heads peeped , as if they meant by their appearance to preach aud shew the ●Antiquity and Aucieutry of his House . This fiery-fac'd Churle had upon his fingers as many Gold Rings as would furnish a Goldsmiths Shop , or beseem a Pandor of loug Profession to wear . Wondring what Companion this should be , he enquired of what Occupation he was ? Marry Sir , quoth he , a Broker : Why do you ask ? have you any Pawns at my House ? No , quoth he , nor never will have ; but the reason is , to have you upon a Jury . The Attorney General starts up . At this word starts up the Attorney General , and swore he should be none of the Quest , for he would Challenge him ; for this base Churle , says he , is one of the Moths of the Common-wealth : beside , he is a spoil of young Gentlemen , a blood-sucker of the poor , as thirsty as a Horse leach , that will never leave drinking while he burst ; a knave that hath interest in the Leafes of forty Bawdy-houses , a receiver for Lifts , and a dishonourable supporter for Cutpurses . To conclude , he was gotten by an Incubus , a He Devil , and brought forth by an overworn refuse , that had spent her youth under the ruines of Bawbies Barn. Moreover this Villain is the Devils Factor , sent from Hell to torment young Gentlemen upon Earth ? he hath fetcht me over in his time , only in pawns , in ten thousand pound in gold . Suppose that Gentlemen through their liberal minds may want that I need , money : let me come to him with a pawn worth ten pound , he will not lend upon it above three pound , and he will have a Bill of sale , and twelve pence in the pound for every month , so that it comes to sixteen pence , and the Bill must be renewed monthly : and if you break but your day set down in the Bill of sale , your pawn is lost , as full bought and sold , you turned out of your Goods , and he an unconscionable gainer . Suppose the best , you keep your day , yet paying sixteen pence a month for twenty shillings , you pay as good for the lone as fourscore in the hundred : is not this monstrous exacting upon Gentlemen ? Beside , the Knave will be diligently attending and waiting at dicing Houses , where we are at play , and there he is ready to lend the loser money upon Rings , and Chains , Apparrel , or any other good pawn , but the poor Gentleman pays so dear for the Lavender it is laid up in , that if it lye long at a Brookers-house , he seems to buy his apparel twice . Nay , this worm ea●ten wr●tch hath deeper pit falls yet to trap Youth in . For he being acquainted with a young G●ntleman of fair living , in issue of good Parents , or assured possibility , soothes him in his monstrous expences , and says , he carries the mind of a Gentleman , promising if he want , he shall not lack for a hundred pound or two , if the Gentleman need . Then hath my Broker an Usurer at hand , as ill as himself , and he brings the money , but they tye the poor Soul in such Darbies bands , what with receiving ill Commodities , and forfeitures upon the band , that they dub him Sir Iohn Had-land before they leave him , and share like Wolves the poor novices wealth betwixt them as a prey . He is ( Sir ) to be brief , a bowzie , bawdy Miser , good for none but himself , and his trugg ; a Carl that hath a filthy Carkass without a Conscience , a body of a man , wherein an Infernal spirit , instead of a Soul , doth inhabit : the scum of the seven deadly sins , an Enemy to all good minds , a devourer of young Gentlemen , and to conclude , my mortal Enemy , and therefore admit of my challenge , and let him be none of the Jury . Moreover , were not Brokers bad , there would be less filching , and fewer Thieves ; for they receive all is brought them , and buy that for a Crown , that is worth twenty shillings . desire of gain binds their Conscience , and they care not how it be come by , so they buy it cheap . Beside , they extort upon the poor , that are inforced through extreme want to pawn their cloaths and houshold stuff , their Pewder and Brass ; and if poor souls that labour hard , miss but a day , the base-minded Broker takes the forfeit , without remorse or pitty : It was not so in Diebus illis . I have known of late , when a poor Woman laid a silver Thimble , that was sent her from her friends for a Token , to pawn for six pence , and the Broker made her pay a half penny a week for it , which comes to two shillings a year for six pence ; sith then his Conscience is so bad , let him be shuffled out amongst the Knaves , for a discarded Card , and so the Broker was put by , A Barber , a Surgeon and an Apothecary summoned to be of the Jury . When the Broker was gone Three pert Youths come up cl●se to Sir Iohn in a cluster very nea●ly ty●ed , who questioning them what they were ? the one said he was a Barber , the other a Chiru●geon , and the third an Apoth●cary . How like you of these ( quoth Si● Iohn to the Judg ) shall they be of my Iury ? Of the Jury , ( quoth the Iudge ) never a One , by my consent ; for I challenge them all . And first the B●rber , he cannot be but a partial man , ●ith he gets more by one time dres●ing of the Iudge than by ten times dressing of me : I come plain to be poll'd , and 〈…〉 , ●eard cut , and pay him two pence : The Judge he sits down in the chair wrapt in fine Clothes , as though the Barber were about to make him a footclothe for the Vicar of Saint fools : Then begins he to take his Scissors in his hand , and his comb , and so to snap with them as if he meant to give a warning to all the Lice in his nitty Locks for to prepare themselves , for the day of their destruction was at hand , then comes he out with his Fustian Eloquence , and making a low conge , saith Sir , will you have your Worships Hair cut after the Italian manner , short and round , and then frounst with the curling Irons , to make it look like a half Moon in a Mist ? or like a Spaniard , long at the ears , and curled like to the two ends of an old cast Periwig ? or will you be Frenchifyed with a Love-lock down to your shoulders , wherein you may wear your Mistriss Favour ? the English cut is base , and Gentlemen scorn it , novelty is dainty : speak the word , Sir , my Scissors are ready to execute your Worships will. His head being once drest , which requires in combing and rubbing some two hours , he comes to the Bason : then being curiously washt with no worse than a Camphire ball , he descends as low as his beard , and asketh whether he pleaseth to be shaven or no ? whether he will have his Peake cut short & sharp , amiable like an Inamorato , or broad pendant like a Spade , to be terrible , like a Warrior and a Soldado ? whether he will have his crates cut low like a Juniper bush , or his Suberches taken away with a Razor ? if it be his pleasure to have his appendices prim'd , or his Mouchaches sostred , to turn about his ears like the branches of a Vine , or cut down to the lip with the Italian Lash to make him look like a half faced Bouby in Brass ? These quaint Terms the Barber greets the Gallant withal , and at every word a snap with his Scissors , and a cring with his knee ; whereas when he comes to the poor man , he either cuts his beard at his own pleasure , or else in disdain asks him if he will be trim'd round like the half of a Holland Cheese , mocking of him ; for this his Knavery , my will is of him , he shall be none of the Jury . For you Mr. Surgeon the Statutes of England exempt you from being of any Quest ; and beside , alas , I seldom fall into your hands as being quiet , and making no brawles to have wounds or sores , neither do I frequent Whorehouses to catch the Marbles , and so to grow your Patient : I know you not , and therefore I appeal to the Statute , you shall have nothing to do with this matter . And for you Mr. Apothecary , alas , I look not once in seven year into your Shop , without it be to buy a pennyworth of wormseed to give my child to drink ; or a little Treacle to drive out the Measles , or perhaps some dregs or powders , to make my sick horse a drench withal ; but for my self , if I be ill at ease , I take Kitchin Phisick , I make my Wife my Doctor , and my Garden my Apothecaries Shop , whereas the Town Fops cannot have a Fart awry , but he must have his Purgations , Pills , and Glisters , or evacuate by Electuaries ; he must , if the least spot of Morphew come on his face , have his Oyl of Tartar , his Lac Virginis , his Camphire dissolved in Verjuice , to make the Fool as fair forsooth , as if he were to play Maid-Marian in a May-game or Morrice-dance : tush , he cannot digest his Meat without Conserves , nor end his Meal without Suckats ; if Sir Iohn hap to have a stinking Breath , then forsooth the Apothecary must play the Perfumer to make it sweet ; nay , what is it about him , that blameth not Nature for framing , and formeth it anew by Art ? And in all this , who but Monsieur the Apothecary ? threfore , pray Sir , ( quoth the Jury ) let those three , as partial companions , be packing . The next desired for a Jury-man , was a Lawyer by S● . Dunstans Church . Assoon as these were pack'd off , there comes stalking down from a neighbouring Grove an ancient grave Sir , in a black Velvet Coat , and a black Cloth Gown , welted and faced , and after him , as he supposed , four Servingman , the most ill-favoured Knaves he thought as ever he saw ; one of them had on a Buff-leather Jerkin , all greasie before with the droppings of Beer , that fell from his Beard ; and by his side a Skein like a Brewers Bung-knife , and muffled he was in a Cloak turn'd over his Nose , as though he had been ashamed to shew his Face . The second had a Belly like a Bucking-tub , and a thredbare black coat unbuttoned before upon the Breast , whereon the Map of Drunkenness was drawn , with the bawdy and bowsie ●xcrements that dropt from his filthy leaking mouth . The third was a long lean old slavering slangril , with a Brazil staff in one hand , and a whipcord in the other ; so purblind , that he had like to have stumbled upon the company before he saw them . The fourth was a 〈◊〉 Chaff , with a sowr look , in a black 〈◊〉 faced with Taffata , and by his side a g●eat side Pouch like a Falkoner : For their Faces , all four seemed to be Brethren , they were so bumbasted with the flocks of strong Beer , and lined with the Lees of old Sack , that they look'd like four blown Bladders painted over with red Oker , or wash'd over with the Suds of an old stale Die. All these , as well the Master , as the following Mates , would have past away , but that he stept before them , and enquired first of the foremost what he was ? Marry , quoth lie , a Lawyer . Then Sir , quoth he , we have a Matter in controvers●ie that requires Counsel , and you are the more welcom . Marry , said he , I am to be Tried for my Life , and I would have you of my Jury : At this the Lawyer smiled , but said nothing ; he marvelled he was not so well as the Surgeon , exempted by an Act of Parliament , from being of any Quest ; since as the Surgeon was without pity , so he was without conscience ; But presently Mr. Attorney stepped in , and made his Challenge , saying , the Lawyer was never friend to Honesty ; for when Lowliness , Neighborhood and Hospitality lived in England , West●inster-Hall was a Dining-Chamber , not a Den of Controversies , when the Duke , Earl , Lord , Knight , Gentleman and Esquire aimed at Virtue , not Pride ; and wore such Breeches as was spun in his house ; then the Lawyer was a simple man , and in the highest degree was but a bare Scrivener , except Judges of the Land , which took in hand serious matters , as Treasons , Murders , Felonies , and such Capital Offences , but seldom were there any Pleas put in , before the proud Lawyer , for his Maintenance , invented strange Controversies ; and since he began to domineer in England , he hath buz'd such a proud , busie , covetous and encroaching humor upon every mans Head , that Lawyers are grown to be one of the chief Limbs of the Common-wealth ; for they do now adays de lana cana caprina rixari , go to Law if a Hen do but scrape in a Neighbours Orchard ; but howsoever Right be , Might carries away the Verdict : If a poor man sue a Gentleman , why he shoots up to the Sky , and the Arrow falls on his own head ; howsoever the Cause go , the weakest is thrust to the wall . Lawyers are troubled with the heat of the Liver , which makes the palms of their hands so hot , that they cannot be cool'd , unless they be rubb'd with the Oyl of Angels ; but the poor man that gives but his bare Fee , or perhaps pleads in for●●a pauperis , he hunteth for Hares with a Tabor , and gropeth in the dark to find a Needle in a Bottle of Hay : tush , these Lawyers have such delatory and foreign Pleas , such Dormers , such Quibs and Quiddits , that beggaring their Clients , thye purchase to themselves whole Lordships ; it booteth not men to discourse their little Conscience , & great Extortion , only let this suffice , they be not so rich as they be bad , and yet they be not too wealthy . I inveigh not against Law , nor honest Lawyers , for there be some well qualified ; but against extorting Ambodexters that wring the poor ; and because I know not whether this be such an one or no , I challenge him ; he shall not be of the Jury . Why then ( quoth Sir Iohn ) his Worship may depart . A Sergeant desired on the Iury Sir Iohn questioned what he in the Buff-Jerkin was ? Marry ( quoth he ) I am a Sergean● , Sir Iohn . He had no sooner said so , but Sir Iohn leap'd back , and drawing his Rapier , he did not only challenge him for his Jury , but protested if he strid one foot toward him , he would make him eat a piece of his Po●●ard . And what is the reason ( quoth he ) that there is such mortal hatred betwixt you and the Sergeant ? O Sir , ( quoth the Judge ) search him , and I warrant you , the Knave hath Precept upon on Precept to arrest me , hath worn his Mace smooth , with only clapping it on my Shoulder ; he hath had me under Coram so often . Oh the Reprobate is the Usurers Executioner to bring such honest Gentlemen to Limbo , Sir Iohn , as he hath over-thrown with his base Brocage , and bad Commodities ; and as you see him a fat Knave with a foggy face , wherein a Cup of old Sack hath set a Seal , to mark the bowsie Drunkard to die of the Dropsie , so his Conscience is consumed , and his Heart robb'd of all remorse and pity , that for Money he will betray his own Father ; for will a Cormorant but set him to arrest a young Gentleman , the Rake-hell will be so eager to catch him , as a Dog to take a Bear by the ears in Paris Garden , and when he hath laid hold upon him , he useth him as courteously as a Butchers Cur would do an Oxe-cheek when he is hungry ; if he see the Gentleman hath Money in his Purse , then straight with a Cap and Knee he carries him to the Tavern , and bids him send for some of his Friends to Bail him ; but first he Covenants to have some brace of Angels for his pains ; and besides he calls in for Wine greedily : But suppose the Gentleman wants Pence , he will either have a Pawn , or else drag him to the Counter , without respect of Manhood or Honesty . I should spend the whole day with displaying his villanies ; therefore briefly let this suffice , he was never made for any goodness , but his slovenly carcass was fram'd by the Devil , of the rotten Carrion of a Wolf , and his Soul of an Usurers damn'd Ghost , turn'd out of Hell , into his Body , to do monstrous wickedness upon the Earth ; so that he shall be none of the Jury , neither shall he come nearer than the length of my Rapier will suffer him . Indeed , quoth Sir Iohn , generally Sergeants be bad , but there be amongst them some honest men , that will do their duties with lawful favour ; for to say truth , if Sergeants were not , how should men come by their Debts ? Marry they are so cruel in their Office , that if they arrest a poor man , they will not suffer him ( if he hath not Money ) to stay a quarter of an hour to talk with his Creditor , although perhaps at the meeting they might take Composition ; but only to the Counter with him , unless he will lay his Pewter , Brass , Coverlets , Sheets , or such Houshold stuff to them for pawn of payment of some Coyn for their staying ; therefore let him depart out of the place , for his Room is better than his Company to me , because of a late Prank I played A Sumner , a Iaylor , an Informer appear for Iury-men for Sir John. After this three other men offered their Service to Sir Iohn ; the one said he was a Sumner , the other a Gaoler , and the third an Informer . B●ess me ( quoth the Judge ) what a Gang is here gathered together ! no doubt Hell is broke loose , and the Devil means to keep Holiday : I make Challenge against them all , as against worse men than those that gave evidence against Christ : for the Sumner , it boots me to say little more against him , than Chaucer did in his C●nte●bury Tales , who said he was a Knave , a B●iber and a Bawd : But leaving that Authority , although it be authentical ▪ yet thus much I can say of my self , that these drunken , drowsie sons go a tooting abroad ( as they themselves term it ) which is to hear if any man hath got his Maid with Child , or plays the Good-fellow with his Neighbours Wife : if he find a hole in any mans Coat that is of wealth , then he hath his peremptory Citation ready , to cite him unto the Archdeacons or Officials Court , there to appear , and abide the shame and penalty of the Law : the man perhaps in good credit with his Neighbors , loth to bring his Name in question , greaseth the Sumner in the Fist , and then he wipes him out of his Book , and suffers him to get twenty with Child , so he keep him warm in the hand . He hath a Saying to wanton Wives , and they are his good Dames , and as long as they feed him with Chee●e , Bacon , Capons , and such odd Reversions , they are honest ; and be they ●ever so bad , he swears to the Official , Complaints are made upon Envy , and the women are o● good Behaviour . Tush , what Bawdry is it he will not suffer , so he may have Money and good Chear ? And if he like a Wench well , a Snatch himself ; for they know all the Whores in a Country , and are as lecherous Companions as may be . To be brief , the Sumner lives upon Sins of People , and out of Harlotry gets he all his Gains . As for the Gaoler , although I have been little troubled in Prison , to have experience of his Knavery , yet have I heard the poor pri●oners complain how cruel they be to them , extorting with extraordinary Fees , selling a double Curtal ( as they call it ) with a double Jugg of Beer for two-pence , which contains not above a pint and a half . Let a poor man be arrested into one of the Compters , though he but set his foot in them but half an hour , he shall be at almost an Angels Charge ; what with Garnish , Crossing and Wiping out of the Book , turning the Key , Paying the Chamberlain , seeing for his Jury , and twenty such Extortions , invented by themselves , and not allowed by any Statute . God bless me , Gaoler , from your Hen-houses ; I 'le assure you , I 'le keep you from coming into the Quest. And as to you Master Informer , you that look like a Civil Citizen , or some handsom Pettifogger of the Law , although your crimson Nose betrays you can sup a cool Cup of Sack without any chewing , yet have you as much Knavery in your side-Pouch there , as would breed the confusion of forty honest men . It may be , Sir Iohn that you marvel why I exclaim against the Informer , since he highly pretends to do all he doth against honest men , according to Law : To wipe out this , this Officer is one that abuses Law , when he should use it , and such a one I guess this Fellow to be , by the Carnation Tincture of his Ruby-Nose . Therefore let us search his Bag , and see what Trash you shall find in it ; with that , although the Informer were very loth , yet we pluckt out the stuffing of his Pouch , and in it was found a hundred and odd Writs ; whereat I wondred ; and Mr. Attorney smiling , bad me read Labels , and the Parties Names , and then examine the Informer how many of them he knew , and wherein they had offended ? I followed his Counsel , and of all he knew but three , neither could he tell what they had done amiss , to be arrested , and brought in question ; and yet this Varlet swore they deserved punishment . But the Prisoner Sir Iohn Fraud seeing me stand in amaze , began thus to resolve me in my doubt . Perhaps , quoth he , you marvel why the Informer hath all these Writs , and knows neither the parties , nor can object any offence to them ? To this I answer , that it being a long vacation he learned in the rowl all those mens names , and the places where they live : Now means he to go abroad , and search them out and arrest them , and though they know not wherein or for what cause they should be troubled , yet rather than they will come up to London and spend their Money , he thinks they will bestow some odd Angel upon Mr. Informer , and so sit at home in quiet . But suppose some be so stubborn as to stand to the Tryal , yet can this cunning Knav● declare a Tanquam against them , so that though they be cleared , yet can they have no recompence at all , for that he doth it in the Courts behalf , I will not unfold all his Villanies , but he is an Abuser of good Laws , and a very knave , and so let him pack away with his Fellows . A Collier and a Ropemaker . As they were going Sir Iohn saw two in the Valley together by the ears , the one in Leather , the other as black as the Devil ; he stept to them to part the fray , and questioned what they were , aad wherefore they brawled ? Marry , quoth he , that lookt like Lucifer , though I am black , I am not the Devil , but indeed a Collier of Croyden and one , Sir , that have ●old many a man a false sack of Coals , that both wanted measure , aud was half full of dust and dross . Indeed I have been a Lieger in my time in London , and have played many mad pranks ; for which cause , you may apparently see , I am made a curtal ; for the Pillory ( in the sight of a great many good and sufficient Witnesses ) hath eaten off both mine ears : and now , Sir , this Ropemaker ( the other that was with him ) hunteth me here with his halters . I guess him to be some evil Spirit , that in the likeness of a man , would since I have past the Pillory , perswade me to hang my self for my old offences ; and therefore I lay about his shoulders with a Crab-tree Cudgel , that he may get out of my Company . The Ropemaker replyed , that honestly journeying by the way , he acquainted himself with the Collyer accidentally , but I my self am an honest Man ; How , quoth the Collier , can he be honest , whose Mother I guess was a Witch ? For I have heard them say , that Witches say their Prayers backward , and so doth the Ropemaker earn his living by going backward ; and the Knaves chief Living is by making fatal Instruments , as Halters and Ropes , which divers desperate men hang themselves with ; so immediately Sir Iohn asked them , if they would be of his Jury ? The Judge answered and said in the Ropemaker he found no great Falshood , therefore he was willing he should be one ; but for the Collier , he thought it necessary , that as he came so he should depart : so then , Sir Iohn bade the Ropemaker stand by till more came , which was not long ; for there came three in a Cluster . The Cheats used by the Tanners , Shoemakers , and Curriers . As soon as they drew nigh , he spyed one , a fat Churle with a side Russet Coat to his knee , and his hands all so tanned with shifting his Ouse , yet would he not take notice what they were , but questioned with them of their several occupations . Marry , quoth the first , I am a Tanner , the second a Shoemaker , and the third a Currier : then turning to the Court , he asked them if they would allow of those parties ? No , quoth the Attorney General , I make challenge unto them all , and I will yield , reasons of import against them . The Cheats used by the TANNERS . And first to you , Mr. Tanner , Are you a man worthy to be of a Jury , when your Conscience cares not to wrong the whole Common-wealth ? you respect not publick commodity , but private gains ; not to benefit your Neighbour , but for to make the proud Princox your Son an upstart Gentleman ; and because you would marry your Daughter at the least to an Esquire , that she may , if it be possible , be a Gentlewoman ; and how comes this to pass ? By your Tanfats forsooth : For whereas by the antient Laws and Statutes of England , you should let a , Hide lye in the Ouse , at the least nine moneths , you can make good Leather of it before three months ; you have your Doves dung , your Marl , your as●en Bark , and a thousand things more , to bring on your Leather apace , that it is so badly Tanned , that when it comes to the wearing , then it ●●eets away like a piece of brown Paper : And whereas your Backs of all other , should be the best tanned , you bring them so full of Horn to the Market , that did you not grease the Sealers of Leaden-Hall throughly in the Fist , they should never be sealed , but turned away , and made forfeit by the Statute . I cannot at large lay open your subtle practices to beguile the poor communalty with bad Leather . But let this suffice you leave no Villany unsought , to bring the Blockhead your son to go afore the Clown his Father , trimly trickt up in a pair of velvet breeches . The Cheats used by the Curriors . Now Mr. Currior , to your Cozenage ; you cannot be content only to burn the Leather you dress , for fault of Liquor , because you would make the Shoomaker pay well , and you put in little stuff ; and beside , when as in Backs you should only put in Tallow hard and good , you put in soft Kitchin stuff mixt , and so make the good and well tanned Leather by your Villany , to fleet and waste away , but also you grow to be an extorting Knave and a Forestaller of the Market ; for you will buy Leather , Sides , Backs and Calve Skins , and sell them to the poor Shoomakers at an unreasonable rate , by your false retailing , getting infinite goods by that excessive price ; both undoing the poor Shomaker , and causing us , that we pay extremely for Shoes . For if the Currier bought not Leather by the whole of the Tanner , the Shoomaker might have it at a more reasonable price ; but the Shoemaker being poor , is not perhaps able to deal with a dicker of Hides , nor perhaps with a couple of Backs , and the Tanner will not trust him ; then the extorting and couzening Currier comes up with this , I will lend you for a day ; and so pincheth him , that he is scarce able to find his Children bread . But well hath his Majesty provided by an Act of Parliament , That no Currier shall buy Leather , either Backs or Hides of the Tanner , so to bridle the extorting and forestalling Couzenage ; but craftilier and subtilier hath the Knave Currier cros-bitten the Statute , in that he deals thus with the Tanner , he makes him hold his Leather unreasonably to the Shoemaker ; and so when he cannot sell it , he lays it up in the Curriers house , under a colour , whereas indeed he hath sold it him . Suppose this shift be spied and prevented , then compoundeth he with some Knave Shoemaker , some base Rakehell without a Conscience , that neither respecteth God , the Common-wealth , nor his Company , and forsooth he is half with the Currier , who letteth him have some hundred Marks to lay out for Leather every Month , whereas he spends not in his Shop a hundred Marks worth in a year ; so the Shoemaker buys it to abuse the Statute , for the Currier , and the Currier by that means undoeth the other Shoemakers : thus two crafty Knaves are met , and they need no honest Broker . The Cheats in the Shoemaking Trade . Now to you Mr. Shoemaker ; you can put in the inner sole of a thin Calves Skin , when as the Shoe is a Neats-leather Shoe ; which you know is clean contrary both to Conseience and the Statute . Beside , you will join a Neats-Leather Vampey to a Calves Leather ●eel : Is not here good stuff , Mr. Shoemaker ? Well , for your Knavery , you shall have those curses which belong unto your Craft : you shall be light-footed to travel far , light witted upon every small occasion to give your Masters bag : you shall be most of you unthrifts , and almost all perfect Goodfellows . Beside , I remember a merry jest , how Mercury brought you to a dangerous Disease , for he requested a boon for you , which fell out to your great disadvantage : and to recreate us , hear a little Gentle-craft , what ●ell to your Trade by that winged God. As it hapned on a time that Iupiter and Mercury travelling together upon Earth , Mercury was wonderfully hungry and had no Money in his Purse to buy him any food , and at last , to his great comfort he spyed where a Company of Tailors were at Dinner with buttered Pease eating their pease with their Needles points one by one : Mercury came to them , and asked them his alms : they proudly bade him sit down and do as he saw they did , and with that delivered him a Needle . The poor God being passing hungry , could not content his maw with eating one by one , but turned the eye of his Needle , and eat two or three together . Which the Tailors seeing they start up , and said , What Fellow , a shovel and Spade to butter'd Pease ? hast thou no more manners ? Get out of our Company , and so they sent him packing with many strokes . Mercury coming back Iupeter demanded of him what news ? and he told him how churlishly he was used amongst the Tailors . Well , wandring on further , Mercury espyed where a Company of Shoemakers were at Dinner with powdred Beef and Brewess : going to them , before he could ask them any Alms , they said , welcome good Fellow , what is thy Stomack up ? wilt thou do as we do , and taste of Beef Mercury thanked them , and sate down and eat his Belly full , and drunk double Beer , and when he had done went home to his Master . Assoon as he came , Iupeter asked him what News ? and he said , I have light amongst a crew of Shoomakers , the best Fellows that I ever met withal , they have frankly fed me without grudging , and therefore grant me a Boon for them . Ask what thou wilt , Mercury , quoth he , and it shall be done : Why then , quoth he , grant , that for this good turn they have done me , they may ever spend a groat afore they can earn twopence . It shall be granted : Mercury , assoon as Iupeter had said the word , bethought himself , and said , Nay , but that they may earn a groat before they spend twopence for my Tongue slipt at the first . Well , Mercury , quoth he , it cannot be recalled , the first wish must stand ; and hereof , by Mercuries Boon it grew , that all the Gentle-Craft are such good Fellows and Spend-thrifts . But howsoever , none of thes● three , neither Shoomaker , Tanner nor Currier shall be of the Jury . A Parcel of Gentlemen appear next to Sir John. As they went away with Fleas in their ears , being thus taunted by the Court , Sir Iohn saw coming to him a Troop of ancient Gentlemen , with their Servingmen attending upon them : The foremost was a great old man with a white Beard , all in Russes , and a fair black Cloak on his back , and attending on him he had some five men ; their Cognizance , as I remember , was a Peacock without a Tail ; the other two that accompanied him , seemed meaner than himself , but Gentlemen of good worship ; whereupon Sir Iohn went towards them , and saluted them , and was so bold as to question what they were , and of their Business . And the ancientest answered , he was a Knight , and those two his Neighbours , the one an Esquire , the other a Gentleman , and that they have no urgent Affairs , but only to walk abroad to take the fresh Air. Then did he desire them all to be upon his Jury . They smiling , answered , they were content ; but the Attorney General storming , stept in , and made challenge to them all , and said , thus you may guess the inward Mind by the outward Apparel ; and see how he is addicted by the homely Robes he is suited in ; Why this Knight is a mortal Enemy to Honesty , and so to me ; he regardeth not Hospitality , yet aimeth at Honour ; he relieves not the poor ; you may see though his Lands and Revenues be great , and he able to maintain himself in great Bravery , yet he is content with home-spun Cloath ; he holdeth the worth of his Gentry to be and consist in Velvet-Breeches , but valueth true Fame by the report of the common sort , who praise him for his House-keeping and great Spendings . His Tenants and Farmers would if it might be be possible , make him sink into Atoms with their Prayers and Praises ; he raiseth Rent , racketh Lands , taketh Incomes , imposeth merciless Fines , envies others , buyeth Houses over his Neighbors heads , and respecteth not his Countrey , and the Commodity thereof , as dear as his Life , and therefore not fit to be in a Kingdom ; he regardeth not to have the needy fed , not to have his Board garnished with full Platters , he minds to be famous , and great , and rich in Furniture and Apparel : Nay , he loveth Pride , and therefore I must proclaim him mine Enemy , and therefore he shall be none of the Jury ; and such as himself I guess the Squire and the Gentleman , and therefore I challenge them all . Next appears to Sir Iohn a Troop of Citizens . A Discovery of the Cheats used by Skinners , Ioyners , Sadlers , Watermen , Cutlers , Bellows-menders , Plaisterers and Printers . As Mr. Attorney was thus talking , there came a Troop of men , in apparel seeming poor honest Citizens , in all they were eight ; he demanded of them what they were , and whither they were going ? One of them that seemed the wealthiest , who was in a surr'd Jacket , made answer , that they were all friends , going to the Burial of a Neighbour of theirs , that yesternight died , and if it would do Sir Iohn any pleasure to hear their Names , they were not so dainty , but they would ●ell them . The first said he was a Skinner ; the second said he was a Joyner ; the third was a Sadler ; the fourth a Watermam , the fifth was a Cutler , the sixth was a Bellows-mender , the seventh a Plaisterer , and the eighth a Printer . In good time , quoth he , it is commendable when Neighbors love so well together ; but if your speed be not overmuch , I must request you to be of a Jury ; they seemed all content , and so Sir Iohn turned to the Court , and asked if they would make challenge to any of these ? I scorn , quoth one of the Court to make any great Objection against them , being they are Mechanical men , and almost hold them indifferent : With that up starts the Judge himself , and said , Sir , they are not indifferentmen , I challenge them all . The Knavery of Skinners . And first with you , Mr Skinner , to whom I can say little , but only this , that whereas you should only put the Backs of Skins into Facing , you taw them , and so deceive the Buyer ; beside , if you have some phantastick Skin brought you , not worth two-pence , with some strange Spots , though it be a Leopard , you will swear it is a most precious Skin , and came from Musko , or the furthest Part of Calabria . The Cheats of the Sadler . The Sadler , he stuffs his Pannels with Straw or Hay , and overglazeth them with Hair , and makes the Leather of them of Morts , or tann'd Sheeps-skins . The Cheat of the Joyner . The Ioyner , though an honest man , yet he makes his Joynts weak , and putteth sappy wood in the Mortises , which should be Heart of the Tree , and all to make his Stuff tender . The Cheat of the Cutler . The Cutler is a Patron to Ruffians and Swash-Bucklers , and will sell them a Blade that may be thrust into a Bushel ; but to a poor man that cannot skill of it , he sells him a Sword or Rapier new overglazed , and swears the Blade came either from Turkey , or Toledo . The Knavery of the Watermen . Now , ( Mr. Waterman ) you will say there is no subtilty in you , for there is none so simple but knows your Fares , and wha● is due between Greenwich and London , and how you earn your Money painfully , with the sweat of your Brows ; all this is true , but let me whisper you one thing in your ear , you will play the good-fellow too much if you be well greas'd in the Fist ; for if a young Gentleman and a pretty Wench come to you , and say , Waterman , My friend and I mean to go by Water , and to be merry a night or two , and I care not which way nor whither we go ; and therefore where thou thinkest we may have best Lodging , thither carry us : then off goes your Cap , and away they go , to Brainford , or some other place ; and then you say , Hostess , I pray you use this Gentleman and his Wife well , they are come out of London to take the Air , and mean to be merry here a night or two , and to spend their Money frankly , when God wot they are neither man not wife , nor of any acquaintance , before their Match made in some Bawdy Tavern , but you know no such matter ; and therefore Waterman , I pardon you . And so for you Plaisterer and Bellows mender , you shall be on the Iury. At those words of the Judge , Sir Iohn rejoyced , hoping that now quickly the Jury would be full . A Printer made a Iury man for his Indifferency . As for the Printer , he cheats the Bookseller sometimes in working of half an Impression for himself , when the Book-seller hath had his Number he is to pay for ; but because the Printer only doth thus to those Book-sellers that he thinks will never pay him , he shall pass on the Jury as an indifferent honest man. The Cheats of the Brick-layers : As Sir Iohn lookt about him , he saw one alone come running as fast as he could ; he wondred what he should be that he should make such haste ; when he came near him , he told the Judge he was a good honest simple man that had been long in his work , in building him a sumptuous House : I challenge him ( quoth the Judge ) for he is a Jugler ; for though he goeth very homely in Leather , and hath his Ruler in his hand , and his Trowel at his side , and he seemeth not as one that was given to such qualities , yet he hath his Policy ; when he maketh a stately place all glorious to the eye , and full of fair Chambers , and goodly Rooms , and about his House perhaps some threescore Chimneys , yet he can so cunningly cast by his Art , that three of them shall not smoke in the Twelvemonth , and so spoils he much good Mortar and Brick . Why , quoth Sir Iohn , the Fault is not in the Workman , but the House-keeper ; for now adays men build to please the Eye , not to profit the poor , they use no Rost , but for themselves and their Houshold ; nor no Fire , but a little Court-Chimney in their own Chamber : How can the poor Bricklayer then be blamed , when the niggardliness if the Lord and Master , is the Cause no more Chimnies do smoke ? For would they use ancient Hospitality as their Forefathers did , and value as lightly of Pride , as their great Grandfathers , then should you fee every Chimney in the House smoke , and prove that the poor Artificer had done his part . Why then ( quoth the Judge ) as you please , admit him on the Quest. But what be those ( qouth the Judge ) that come here so soberly ? I hope they be honest men , for they look d●m●re ; I will enquire , said he ; and with that , stepping to them , he demanded their Names ; and very courteously one said he was a Brewer , the other a Butcher , the third a Baker , and the fourth a Victualer . Hearing what they were , the Judge was glad , guessing , since they were so honest substantial men , that they would help to make up the Jury . When he had said so , Sir Iohn Fraud , with a grim and sow● cou●tenance , gave them this Challenge : I hold it not necessary ( quoth he ) that these have any thing to deal in my Cause , since I am at odds with them all , at least in forty pounds apiece ; for this seven year have I been indebted unto them for Bread , B●●f , Beer , and other Victuals ; then since they have credited me long , and I have had so little a care to pay them , I doubt now they will revenge themselves , and pass against me in the Verdict . Nay ( quoth the Judge ) rather will they hold on your part ; for if they be honest wise men ( as they seem to be ) they will be careful of your pre●erment , seeing the more highly you are advanc'd , the more they are like to come by their own : if therefore you can object no other points of Dishonesty against them , I see no reason why they should be put by . If you do not ? ( quoth Sir Iohn ) I do , and I will prove them un●it to have any dealings here ; and first for the Butcher : The Knavery of the Butcher . I pray you Goodman Kill-Calf , what havock play you with puffing up of meat , and blowing with your Pricker as you slay it ? have you not your artificial Knaveries to set out your meat with pricks , and then swear he hath more for money than ever you bought : to sell a piece of an old Cow , for a chop of young Ox ; to wash your old meat that hath hung waltring in the shop , with new blood , to truss away an old Ewe , instead of a young Weather : and although you know it is hurtful , and forbidden by the statues to slay your Hides , skins , backs , with cuts and flashes , to the improverishing of the poor Shoemaker when he buyes it : yet I pray you how many slaughters do you make in a poor Calves skin ? Oh Butcher , a Long Lent be your punishment : for you make no Conscience in deceiving the poor . The Knavery of the Brewer . And you Brewer , that grow to be worth forty thousand pounds by selling of sodden water , what subtilty have you in making your Beer , to spare the Malt , and put in more of the hop to make your drink ( be Barly never so cheap ) not a whit the stronger , and yet sell never a whit the more measure for money ; you can , when you have taken all the heart of the Malt away , then clap on store of water ; 't is cheap enough , and mash out a tunning of small Beer , that it scours a mans maw like Rhenish wine ; in your Conscience how many Barrels draw you out of a quarter of Malt ? sie , sie , I conceal your falshood , lest I should be too broad in setting down your faults . The Knavery of the Baker . And for you , Goodman Baker , you that love to be seen in the open Market-place upon the Pillory , the world cryes out of your wiliness , you crave but one dear year to make your Daughter a Gentlewoman : you buy your Corn at the best hand , and yet will not be content to make your bread weight by many ounces : you put in Yest , and Salt , to make it heavy , and yet all your policy cannot make it , but you sine for the Pillory . The poor cry out , the rich find fault , and the Lord Mayor and the Sheriffs , like Honourable and Worshipful Magistrates , every day walk abroad , and weigh your Bread , and all will not serve to make you honest men : but were extremity used , and the Statute put in the highest degree in practise , you would have as few ears of your heads , as the Collier . The Knavery of the Tapsters . Last to you , Tom Tapster , that tap your small cans of Beer to the poor , and yet fill them half full of froth , that card your Beer ( if you see your Guests begin to be drunk ) half small , and strong ; you cannot be content to pinch them with your small pots , and your Ostry Faggots ; but have your Truggs , to draw men on to Villany , and to bring Customers to your house , where you sell a joint of meat for twelve pence , that cost you scarce fix : and if any chance to go on the score , you score him , when he is asleep , and set up a Groat a day more than he hath , to find you drinking pots with your Companions . To be short , thou art a Knave , and I like not of any of the rest , the way lies before you , and therefore you may be gone , for you shall be none of the Quest. The Judge hearing this smiled and said , I see Rogues among themselves can never agree , as the Judge was thus speaking , Sir Iohn saw five fat Fellows , all in Damas● ▪ Coats , and Gowns welted with Velvet , very brave , and in great consultation , as if they were to determine of some weighty matter . Drawing near , he saw they were wealthy Citizens : so he went , and reverently saluted them , and told them how he needed their aid , about his Jury ; they were contented ; but the Judge excepted against four of them , and said , they were none of his friends ; that was the Merchant , Goldsmith , Mercer , and Draper . His allegations were these , that they were all feathered of one wing , to fetch in young Gentlemen by commodities , under the colour of lending of money . The Knavery of the Merchant . For the Merchant , he delivered Iron , Tin , Lead , Hops , Sugars , Spices , Oyls , brown Paper , or whatsoever else , from six months to six months ; which when the poor Gentleman came to sell again , he could not make threescore and ten in the hundred beside the usury . The Knavery of the Mercer . The Mercer , he followeth the young upstart Gentleman , that hath no Government of himself , and he fe●deth his humour to go brave ; he shall not want Silks , Sattins , Velvets , to prank abroad in his pomp ; but with this proviso , that he must bind over his Land in a Statute-Merchant , or Staple ; and so at last forfeit all unto the merciless Mercer , and leave himself never a foot of ground in England ; which is the reason , that for a few remnants of Velvets , and Silks , the Mercer creepeth into whole Lordships . The Knavery of the Goldsmith . The Goldsmith is not behind ; for most of them deal with Usury , and let young Gentlemen have Commodities of Plate , for ten in the hundred , but they must lose the fashion in selling it again ( which cuts them sore ) beside , they are most of them skill'd in Alcumie , and can temper mettals shroudly , with no little profit to themselves , and disadvantage to the buyer ; beside , puft rings and quaint conceits which I omit . The Knavery of the Draper . And for you Draper , he fetcheth them off for Liverie Cloth , and Cloth for six months and six , and yet hath he more knacks in his budget ; for he hath so dark a shop , that no man can well chuse a piece of Cloth , it so shadows the Dye and the Thred , a man shall be deceived in the wool and the nap , they cause the Cloth-worker so to press them ; beside , he imposeth this charge to the Cloth-worker , that he draw his Cloth , and pull it passing hard when he sets it upon the Tenters , that he may have it full breadth and length , till thread and all tear and rent a pieces : what care they for that ? have they not a Drawer to serve their turn ; to draw and seam up the holes so cunningly , that it shall never be espyed ? My self hath seen in one broad Cloth eighteen score holes torn , rackt and pull'd by the Cloth-worker only to please the Draper , and deceive the Commonwealth . To be short , the Cloth-worker , what with rowing and setting on a fine nap , with powdring it and pressing it , with sheering the wool to the proof of the thread , deal so cunningly , that they prove themselves the Drapers Ministers to execute his subtilties : therefore if he chance to come , let him be remembred . The Knavery of the Vintner . And as for the Vintner I hold him to be as deceitful as any of the rest ; for he is a kind of Negromancer , for at midnight , when all men are in bed , then he , forsooth , falls to his charms and spells , so that he tumbles one Hogshead into another , and can make a cup of Claret that hath lost his colour , look high with a dash of red wine at his pleasure . If he hath a strong Gascoin Wine for fear it should make his ghests too soon drunk , he can allay it with a small Rochel Wine , he can cherish up white wine , with Sack ; and perhaps if you bid him wash the pot clean when he goes to draw you a quart of Wine , he will leave a little Water in the bottom , and then draw it full of wine . And what if he do ? t is no harm , wine and water is good against the heat of the Liver . It were infinite to rehearse the juggling of Vintners , the disorder of their houses , especially of the persons that frequent them and therefore seeing the Merchant , Goldsmith , Mercer and Draper be put by , the Vinter shall go with them for company . As these were going away in a snuff , for being thus plainly taunted , Sir Iohn saw a mad merry crew come leaping over the field as frolickly , as if they ought not all the world two pence ; and drawing nearer he did perceive , that either Bottle Ale or Beer had made a fray with them ; for the lifting of their feet shewed the lightness of their heads . A Tantivee-Parson . The foremost was a plain Country Sir Iohn , or Vicar , that proclaimed by the redness of his Nose , he did oftner go into the Alehouse , than the Pulpit ; and him Sir Iohn asked what they were , and whether they were going ? What are you , quoth the Priest , that stand by the high way to examine me and my friends ? here 's none in my Company , but are able to answer for themselves , he seeing they were all set on a merry pin , told the cause , and said , that he needed them to be of the Quest. Marry ( quoth Sir Iohn ) a good motion ; know these all are my Parishioners , and we have been drinking with a poor man , and spending our money with him ; a neighbour of ours , that hath lost a Cow. Now for our names , and our Trades , this is a Smith , the second a Weaver , the third a Miller , the fourth a Cook ; the fifth a Carpenter , the sixth a Glover , the seventh a Pedlar , the eight a Tinkar , the ninth a Waterbearer ; the tenth a Husbandman ; the eleventh a Dyer , and the twelfth a Saylor , and I the Vicar or Parson which you please to call me ; How could you Sir , have a fitter Jury than me , and my Parishioners ? You are a little too brief ( quoth Sir Iohn ) for you are a Fellow that raiseth up new Schisms , and Heresies and Divisions among your People , and the world was never in quiet , Devotion , Neighbourhood and Hospitality never flourished in this Land since such upstart Boys , and shittle-witted Fools becam of the Ministry ; you preach Faith , and say that doing of Alms is Papistry ; but you have taught so long , Fid●s solum ju●●ific●t , that you have preached good Works quite out of your Parish ; a poor man shall assoon break his N●ck as his Fast at a rich mans do●r . Alas Sir Iohn , you are mistaken , for , my friend , though indeed I am none of the best Scholars , yet I can re●d a Homily every Sunday and Holiday , and keep company with my Neighbors , and go to the Alehouse with them , and if they be fallen out , spend my Money to make them friends ; and on Sundays sometime , if good Fellowship call me away , I say both Morning and Evening Prayer at once , and so let them have a whole Afternoon to play in . This is my Life , I spend my Living with my Parishioners ; I seek to do all good , and I offer no man harm . Well ( quoth Sir Iohn ) then I warrant thou art an honest Vicar , and therefore stand by , thou shalt be one of the Quest. No Cheat in the Smith's Profession . And as for you , Smith , I see no great fault in you ; you earn your Living with the Sweat of your Brows , and there can be no great Knavery in you ; only I would have you to mend your life for drinking , since you are never at quiet unless the Pot be still at your Nose . The Knavery of the Weaver . But you , Weaver , the Proverb puts you down for a crafty Knave , you can filch and steal almost as well as the Taylor ; your Woof and Warp is so cunningly drawn out , that you plague the poor Countrey Huswives for their Yarn , and dawb on so much Dregs , that you make it seem both well wrought , and to bear weight , when it is slenderly woven , and you have stollen a quarter of it from the poor Wife . Away , be packing , for you shall be cashier'd . The Miller and Weav●r shake hands What Miller , shake hands with your Brother the Weaver for Knavery ; you can take Toll twice , and have false Hoppers to convey away the poor mans Meal : Be gone , I love not your dusty looks ? The Cheats of the Cooks . And for Company , Goodman Cook , go with them ; for you cozen the poor men and Countrey Termers with your silthy meat , you will buy of the worst and cheapest , when it is bad enough for Dogs , and yet so powder it , and parboil it , that you will sell it to some honest poor men , and that unreasonably too . If you leave any Meat over-night , you make a shift to heat it again the next day . Nay , if on the Thursday at night there be any left , you make Pies of it on Sunday Morning , and almost , with your slovenly Knavery poison the poor people . To be short , I brook you not , and therefore be walking . For the Carpenter , Glover , and Water-bearer , the Husbandman , Dier and Saylor , since your Trades have but petty ●lights stand you with Mr. Vicar , you are like to help to give in the Verdict . Tinkers and Pedlars Knavery . But for the Pedlar and the Tinker , they are two notable Knaves , both of a hair , and both Cousin-germains to the Devil . For the Tinker , why he is a drowsie , bawdy , drunken Companion , that walks up and down with a Trugg after him , and in stopping one hole , makes three ; and is in convenient place , he meets with one alone , perhaps rifles him or her of all that ever they have ; a base Knave , without fear of God , or love to any one but his Whore , and to himself . The Pedlar as bad , or rather worse , walketh the Countrey with his Doxy at the least , if he have not too his Morts Dels , and Autem Morts ; he passeth commonly through every pair of Stocks , either for his Drunkenness , or his Lechery . And beside , it is reported you can lift or nip a Bung like a guire Cove ; if you want pence , and that you carry your Pack but for a colour to shadow your other Villanies . Well , howsoever , you are both Knaves , and so be jogging . Well , at last , quoth the Judge , I suppose , Sir Iohn , your Jury is almost full ; I believe you want not above three or four persons ; look you yonder where they come to make up the Number ; and they should be men of good Disposition , for they seem to be all Countrimen of Vtopia . Assoon as they came close , Sir Iohn met them , and told them the Matter , and they were content to be of the Jury . The one said he was a Grasier , the other a Farmer , the other a Shepherd to them both . What think you of these three , quoth Sir Iohn ? Marry , saith the Judge , two of them are honest men , but the other is a base Knave ; but 't is no matter , shuffle him in amongst the rest . Nay , by your leave , quoth Mr. Attorney , I will shuffle out these two , for they are the very Cormorants of the Countrey , and devour the poor people with their monstrous exaction . The Cheats used by the Grasier . And first I alledge against the Grasier , that he forestalleth Pastures and Medow grounds for the feeding of his Cattel , and wringeth Leases of them out of poor mens hands ; and in his buying of Cattel , he committeth great Usury ; for it it prove a wet year , then he maketh havock , and selleth dear ; if it be a dry year , then he buyeth cheap , and yet having Pasture , keeps them till he may come to his own price ; he knoweth as well as the Butcher by the feed of a Bullock , how much Tallow he will yield , what his Quarters will amount unto● what the Tanner will give for the Hide ; Nay , what the Sowse-wives were able to make of the Inwards ; so that he sells it so dear to the Butcher , that he can scarce live of it ; and therefore what subtilty the Butcher useth , cometh from the Grasier , so that I exempt him from the Quest as a bad Member , and an ill Friend to Justice . The Cheats used by the Farmer . And for you Mr. Farmer , you know how through you covetous Landlords raise their Rents ; for if a poor man have but a Plough-Land , if you see his Pastures bear good Grass , and his arable ground , good Corn , and that he prospereth and goeth forward on it , and provideth and maintaineth his Wife and Servants honestly , then , Invidus alterius rebus macrescit opimis , Vicinumque pecus grandius uber habet . Then straight Envy pricks the Farmer forward , and he bids the Landlord far more than the poor man pays yearly for it ; so that if it be a Tenant at will , he puts him out to beg in the Street ; or when his Lease comes out , he overloads him in the Fine , and thus blood-sucketh he the poor of his own private profit . Besides , the base Chuff ; if he sees a forward Year , and that corn is like to be plenty , then he murmureth against God , and sweareth and protesteth he shall be undone , respecting more the filling of his own Co●●ers by a Dearth than the profit of his Countrey by a general Plenty . Beside , Sir , may it please you , when new Corn comes into the Market , who brings it in to relieve the State ? Not your Mastership , but the poor Husbandman , that wants Pence : For you keep it till the back end of the Year ; nay , you have your Garners which have Corn of two or three Years old , upon hopes still of a dear Year , rather letting the Weasels eat it , than the poor should have it at any reasonable price . So that I conclude , You are a Cormorant of the Commonwealth , and a Wretch that lives of the spoil of the needie , and so I leave you to jet with the Grazier . Shepherds honest men . As for the Shepherd , unless it be that he killeth a Lamb now and then , and saies the Fox stole him , I know little Craft in his Budget , therefore let him among the honest men of the Jurie . Several Citizens come to hear the Trial of Sir John Fraud . Well said Sir Iohn to the Judge , here comes three or four Citizens , will any of these serve turn : I cannot tell ( quoth the Judge ) till I know their names and conditions . With that Sir Iohn stept afore the company , and enquired what they were : the eldest of them being a grave Citizen , said he was a Grocer , the rest , his good and honest Neighbours , a Chandler , a Haberdasher , a Clothworker , and two strangers , one a Wallon , the other a Dutchman . How like you these ? ( quoth Sir Iohn to the Judge ) ●'le assure you , my Lord , these men are seen every Sunday in their Silks . I marry ( quoth the Judge ) but they never get that Bravery with Honesty ; For the Cloth-worker , his Faults were laid open before , when we had the Draper in question , and therefore let him be packing . The Knavery of Chandlers . For you Chandler , I like not your Tricks , you are too conversant with the Kitchen-stuff-wives ; you , after your Wiek or Snaft is stiffened , you dip it in ●ilthy Dross , and after give him a Coat of good Tallow , which makes the Candles drop and waste away , to great hinderance of the poor Workmen that watch in the night . Beside , you pinch in your weights , and have false measures , and many other Knaveries that I omit ; but this be sure , you shall not meddle in my Matter . Neither the Haberdasher , for he trims up old Felts , and makes them very fair to the eye , and faceth and edgeth them neatly , and then he turneth them away for good ones , and so abuseth us with his Cozenage . Beside , you buy gumm'd Taffata , wherewith you line Hats , that will straight asunder assoon as it comes to the heat of a mans Head. To be brief , I am not well skill●d in your Knaveries ; but indeed you are too subtil for a Jury-man , and therefore you shall be none of the Jury . The Grocer seems an honest man , and I am content to admit of him , only take this as a Caveat by the way , all Gentlemen here present , that you buy of the Garvellers of Spices , the Refuse that they fift from the Merchant , and that mix again , and sell to your Customers . Besides , in your beaten Spices , as in Pepper , you put in Bay-berries , and such Dross , and so wrong the poor ; but these are ●light Causes , and so overpass them , and vouchsafe you to be of the Quest. But I pray you , what be these two honest men The one ( quoth the Grocer ? ) a Dutchman , and a Shoomaker ; the other a Frenchman , and a Millener in St. Martins , and sells Shirts , Bands , Bracelets , Jewels , and such pretty Toys for Gentlewomen . Oh , they be of Sir Iohn's Acquaintance , Upstarts as well as he ! that have brought with them Pride and Abuses into England : But these we 'l pass , knowing they abuse most Occupations , and they shall not be of the Quest Well ( quoth Sir Iohn ) now I suppose the Jury is full , and we see no more coming ; let us call them , and see how many we have . The Iury being called over , two are wanting . Immediately enters an Honest Bookseller . Assoon as Sir Iohn had spoke the Word , there comes into the Court a Book-seller , a reputed very honest man indeed , and of a Gentile Profession ; assoon as ever the Judg perceived who he was , he commanded he should be one of the Jury : With all my heart , said the Prisoner at the Bar ; for I know he is one that gives in his Verdict impartially ; he is one that will act honestly ( without fraud or deceit ) and he is one that hath a good Report in Vtopia ; and so he was admitted as a Jury-man . What is it not possible , quoth the Prisoner , to have one more to make up the four and twenty ? as he was thus speaking , he spied afar off , a certain kind of an overworn Gentleman , attired in Velvet and Sattin , but it was somewhat drop'd and greasie , and Boots on his Legs , whose Soles waxed thin , and seem'd to complain of their Master , which treading Thrift under his feet , had brought them to that Consumption ; he walked not as other men , in the common beaten way , but came compassing circumcirca , as if we had been Devils , and he would draw a Circle about us , and at every third step he looked back , as if he were afraid of a Bailiff or Sergeant . After him followed two pert Apple-squires , the one had a Murrey Cloth Gown on , faced before with grey Coney , and laid thick on the sleeves with Lace , which quaintly bare up , to shew his white Taffata Hose , and black Silk Stockings , a huge Ruff about his neck , wrapt on his great head like a wicket-cage , a little Hat , with brims like the wings of a Doublet , wherein he wore a Jewel of Glass , as broad as a great Seal . After him followed two Boys in Cloaks like Butterflies , carrying one of them his cutting Sword of Choler , the other his dancing Rapier of delight . His Comerade that bare him Company , was a jollie light timber'd Jack-a-napes , in a Sate of watche● Taffata , cut to the skin , with a Cloak all to bedawbed with coloured Lace ; both he and the gowned Brother seemed by their pace , as if they had some Suits to Mosieur Boots . At length coming near , Sir Iohn could discern the first to be a Poet , the second a Player , the third a Musitian , alias the Usher of a Dancing-School . Well met , Master Poet , quoth Sir Iohn , and welcom you Friends also , though not so particularly known . So it is , though none of you three be Common-wealths men , yet upon urgent necessity , we must be forced to employ you . We have a Jury to be impannelled immediately , which one of you three must help to make up , even he which approves himself the honestest man. They are all honest men , and good Fellows , quoth the Attorney , therefore it is no great matter whether of them we chuse . The Doctors doubt of that , quoth the Jugde : and I am of a different opinion from you . The Poet admited a Iury-man . This first , whom by his careless slovenly gate , at first sight I imagined to be a Poet , is a wast-good , and an unthrift , that is born to make the Taverns rich , and himself a Beggar . If he have forty pounds in his purse together , he puts it not to Usury , neither buyes Land nor Merchandise with it , but goes to Wenches feeds on Capons , and spends ten Pounds on a Supper . Why , 't is nothing , if his Plough goes , and his Ink-horn be clear . Take one of them worth twenty thousand pound , and hang him . He is a King of his Pleasure , and counts all other Boors and Peasants ; that though they have Money at command , yet know not like him how to domineer with it to any purpose as they should . But to speak plain , I think him an honest man , if he would but live within his compass , and generally no mans foe but his own , therefore I hold him quoth the Prisoner , sit to be of my Jury . Nay , quoth the Judge , I have more mind to these two ; for this Poet is a proud fellow , that because he hath a little wit in his Budget , will contemn and mislike that which is Reason and Sence , and think we are beholden to him , if he do but bestow a fair Look upon us . Players and Vshers of Dancing-Schools pretty honest men The Player and the Usher of the Dancing School are plain , honest , humble men that for a penny , or an old cast Suit of Apparrel , will do any thing . Quoth , the Recorder , you say Truth , they are but too humble ; for they be so lowly , that they be base-minded ; I mean , not in their looks , nor apparrel , for so they be Peacocks , and painted Asses , but in their course of Life : for they care not how they get crowns , I mean , how basely , so they have them ; and yet of the two , I hold the Player to be the better Christian , although he is in his own imagination , too full of self-liking , and self-love , and is unsit to be of the Jury though conceal his faults & fopperies , in that I have been merry at his Sports , only this I must say , that plain Countrey Fellows they bring in as Clowns and Fools to laugh at in their Play , whereas they get by us , and of our Alms the proudest of them all doth live . Well , to be brief , let him trot to the Stage , for he shall be none of the Jury : And so you , Mr. Usher of the Dancing-School , you are a leader into all Misrule , you instruct Gentlemen to order their feet , when you drive them to misorder their Manners ; you are a bad fellow , that stand upon your Tricks and Capers , till you make young Gentlemen caper without your Lands . Why Sir , to be flat with you , you live by your Legs , ass Jugler by his hand ; you are given over to the Pomps and Vanities of the world . And to be short , you are a keeper of Misrule , and a lewd fellow , and you shall be none of the Quest. Why then , quoth the Judg , the Poet is he that must make up the four and twentieth ; He and none but he . The Names of the Iury to be impannelled . 1 Knight . 2 Esquire . 3 Gentleman . 4 Priest. 5 Printer . 6 Bookseller . 7 Grocer . 8 Skinner . 9 Dyer . 10 Pewterer . 11 Sadler . 12 Joyner . 13 Cutler . 14 Plaisterer . 15 Saylor . 16 Ropemaker . 17 Smith . 18 Glover . 19 Husbandman . 20 Shepheard . 21 Waterman . 22 Waterbearer . 23 Bellowes-mender . 24 Poet. Then the Judge calling them all together , he bade them lay their hands on the Book . And first he call'd the Knight , and after the rest , as they followed in order ; then he gave them the Charge , thus ; Worshipful Sir , with the rest of the Jury , whom we have elected of choice honest men , whose consciences will deal uprightly in this Trial , you and the rest of your Company are here upon your Oath , and Oaths , to inquire whether Sir Iohn Fraud have deserved Death , yea or no ? If you find him Not guilty of those crimes that are laid to his charge ; then let him set in his former Estate , and allow him reasonable damages . Upon this they laid their hands upon the Book , and were sworn , and departed to the scrutiny of the offender , by inquiry amongst themselves , not stirring out from the bar , but straight returned , and the Knight for them as the foremost said thus : So it is , that we have with equity and conscience considered of the Prisoners Crimes , and have upon strict examination found that he deserves death ; when the Forman had spake those words , the Judge stood up , and pronounc'd this Sentence . Sir Iohn Fraud , you have been here indicted , arraigned and tryed for your Life , and the Jury ( who have gone according to Evidence ) have found you really Guilty of what hath been charg'd upon you ; and therefore Your Sentence is , That you shall be expelled all Kingdoms and Nations and Societies and Countreys for an hundred years , and when that time is expired , you shall be put to the severest Death , that can be thought on , or invented by poor , abused , wronged Citizens , Gentlemen , Yeomen , and Farmers . The Prisoner left in the Executioners hands . And so to conclude , the poor , condemned Prisoner was left to the Mercy of the Executioner . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A36903-e400 The Pope Arraigned and Indicted . The Pope's Petition . A Iury against Pope Innocent . By these twelve means the Pope may be confuted . Holy Scripture is excepted against , for Papists may be confuted by their own Translation . 
A59472	----	An inquiry concerning virtue in two discourses, viz., I. of virtue and the belief of a deity, II. of the obligations to virtue. Shaftesbury, Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of, 1671-1713. 1699 Approx. 263 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 102 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A59472 Wing S2892 ESTC R21267 12296519 ocm 12296519 59040 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A59472) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 59040) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 193:5) An inquiry concerning virtue in two discourses, viz., I. of virtue and the belief of a deity, II. of the obligations to virtue. Shaftesbury, Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of, 1671-1713. 199 p. Printed for A. Bell ... E. Castle ... and S. Buckley ..., London : 1699. Attributed to Anthony Ashley Cooper Shaftesbury. Cf. Halkett & Laing (2nd ed.). An unauthorized ed., published by John Toland. Shaftesbury bought and destroyed most of the copies. Errata on t.p. verso. Advertisement on p. [1] at end. Reproduction of original in British Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO. EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org). The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. 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In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so. Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Virtue -- Early works to 1800. Religion -- Early works to 1800. Vice -- Early works to 1800. 2007-06 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-07 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-03 John Latta Sampled and proofread 2008-03 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-09 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion AN INQUIRY Concerning VIRTUE , In Two Discourses ; VIZ. I. Of VIRTUE , and the belief of a DEITY . II. Of the Obligations to VIRTUE . HONESTUM igitur id intelligimus , quod tale est , ut , detractâ omni utilitate , sine ullis praemiis fructibusve , per seipsum possit jure laudari . Quod quale sit , non tam definitione , quâ sum usus , intelligi potest ( quamquam aliquantum potest ) quam communi omnium judicio , & optimi cujusque studiis , atque factis : qui permulta ob eam unam causam faciunt , quia decet , quia rectum , quia honestum est ; etsi nullum consecuturum emolumentum vident . — Cic. de Fin. B. & M. Lib. 2. LONDON , Printed for A. Bell in Cornhil , E. Castle near Whitehal , and S. Buckley in Fleetstreet . M. DC . XC . IX . ERRATA . PAge 11. line 18. read , As when there are other Minds , besides one chief one ; but. lin . 21. r. As when there are , besides one chief good Principle , several Principles . P. 22. l. 22. r. in himself . P. 35. l. 7. r. to their . P. 69. l. 11. r. are those . P. 79. l. 2. r. ill occurrence . P. 83. l. 2. r. IS , and. P. 104. l. 29. r. degrees . P. 105. l. 26. r. from hence . P. 146. l. 9. r. order , set . P. 154. l. 29. r. content . P. 163. l. 17. r. perpetual Satiety . P. 182. l. 13. r. and are . P. 185. l. 5. r. losing . P. 187. l. 20. r. highly reigning . P. 197. l. 1. r. the natural . BOOK the First . OF VIRTUE , AND THE Belief of a DEITY . SECT . I. RELIGION and VIRTUE , as they have near relation one to another , and are ever presum'd to reside together ; so they are very rarely consider'd apart , or distinguish'd from one another . However , since there have bin instances of some , who having great Zeal in Religion , have yet wanted even the common affections of Humanity , and have bin extremely vitious and corrupt ; and since others , even amongst those who have scarcely own'd a Deity , have bin seen to practise the rules of Morality , and have seem'd to act with good meaning and affection towards Mankind : it has given occasion to several to enquire HOW FAR VIRTUE ALONE COULD GO ; AND HOW FAR RELIGION WAS EITHER NECESSARY TO SUPPORT IT , OR ABLE TO RAISE AND ADVANCE IT . And since by the example of others we have bin engag'd in an enquiry of this kind , and are now about to enter upon a Subject where there is need of a very particular Explanation of things , and of a more than ordinary clearness in terms ; we may do well first of all to consider What it is that we call ATHEISM , and what VIRTUE : and afterwards we may examin the consistency of these two together . FIRST , then , AS TO ATHEISM . And here it cannot justly be wonder'd at , if the method of explaining this appears unusual and strange , since the Subject it self , and the Question here treated of , has , perhaps , so little enter'd into consideration , and is a matter of so nice and dangerous speculation . But to begin , therefore , according to the best of our Reason ; the judgment of which is submitted to others . IN the Whole of things ( or in the Universe ) either every thing is according to a good order , and the most agreeable to a general interest that is possible : or every thing is not according to a good order ; but there is that which might possibly have bin better , more wisely contriv'd , and with more advantage to the general interest of Beings , or of the Whole . IF every thing that exists be according to a good order , and for the best , by being in the wisest and justest manner ; then is there of necessity no such thing as REAL ILL in the Universe , nothing ILL with respect to the whole . WHATSOEVER , then , has such an Existence or Being as that it could not have bin better , or better ordered , is perfectly Good. Whatsoever in the order of the world is call'd ILL , supposes a possibility in the nature of the thing to have bin otherwise contriv'd or order'd by some wisdom or other : for if it could not have bin better made , or any otherwise have bin better , by any suppos'd order or regulation ; it is perfect , and in no wise defective or ILL . WHATSOEVER is ILL therefore , must be caus'd or produc'd , either by design ( that is to say , with Knowledg and Judgment ) or through want of design , from chance . IF the order of all things be such , that nothing can be thought of , or imagined , more wise , perfect and just ; then it is impossible but that there must be Wisdom , Understanding and Design in the whole ; and that in the perfectest , and highest manner and degree . WHATSOEVER is from Design implies a Mind , Discernment , and Intelligence . IF there be any thing ILL in the Universe from design ( and it must be , if at all , either from Design , or from Chance ) then that which is the cause of , or which disposes all things , is no one good designing Principle . For either there is but one designing Principle or Mind , and that corrupt ; or if there be one that is good , there is another in being which operates contrarily , and is ILL . IF there be any thing of ILL in the Universe from Chance , or which was not design'd , but accidental ; then a designing Principle or Mind , whether good or bad , cannot be the cause or guidance of all things . And if there be a designing Principle which is the cause of good , and is good , but cannot prevent the ill which happens from Chance , or from a contrary ill design ; then is there no such thing as a supreme good Design or Mind but what is impotent and defective : For not to correct , or totally exclude that ill of Chance , or of a contrary ill design , must proceed either from impotency , or ill will. WHATSOEVER has intelligence , and is a Mind , having a superior power over us , or having any eminent place , direction , or controul in nature , is that we call God , or Deity . For , tho a People believe and worship that which they think neither perfectly good , nor perfectly powerful , nor yet eternal ; it is a Deity or God still , tho an imperfect one , which they worship : or whether they think fit to worship or no , still they believe a God of some sort . WHATSOEVER therefore is superior in any degree over the World , or that rules in nature with discernment and a Mind , is that which we call GOD. If there are several such superior Minds , they are so many Gods. But if that single superior , or those several superiors are not in their nature necessarily good , they rather take the name of DAEMON . For remove all good from either of those Beings , and we shall immediately pronounce it a Devil . TO believe therefore that every thing is govern'd , order'd , or regulated according to the best , by a designing Principle or Mind , such as is good and eternal , is to be a perfect THEIST . TO believe nothing of a designing Principle or Mind , nor any cause or measure or rule of things , but Chance ; so that in nature neither the interest of the whole , nor of any particulars , can be said to be pursu'd , design'd , or aim'd at ; is to be a perfect ATHEIST . TO believe no one supreme good designing Principle or Mind , but several , is to be a POLYTHEIST . TO believe this one single Mind , or these many Minds , are not absolutely and necessarily good in their nature , but are vitious and unjust , is to be a DAEMONIST . For , to believe any thing of Beings , or of a Being which dos universally superintend , which governs all things by his Power and Will , but not with that obligation and necessary confinement to good , and to what is best , is to believe an infinit Devil , and not an infinit God. TO believe this supreme Mind , or these supreme Minds good , and not the cause of ILL ( if real Ill be allow'd ) is to allow some other cause , which is either Design or not Design . If it be Design , and of consequence a malicious and ill Design ( that is to say , if it proceed from the prevalency of an ill Mind or Minds ) then is this in reality being a Daemonist in some degree . If it be from no design , but from chance ; so that a Mind prevails but in some things , and Chance in others ; then is this to be an Atheist in some degree , or in as far as Chance is thought prevalent and unsurmounted by the power and wisdom of any supreme Mind or Minds . THERE are few men who think always consistently , or according to one certain Hypothesis upon any subject so abstruse and intricate , as this concerning the Cause of all things , and the Oeconomy or Government of the Vniverse . For it is plain in the case of the most devout People , and by their own confession , that they have times when their Faith only supports them , and that they are ready to judg ( that is to say , that their reason inclines them to judg ) to the disadvantage of a Providence and a just Rule . THAT alone therefore is to be called a man's Opinion , which is of any other the most habitual to him , and occurs upon the most occasions . So that it is hard to pronounce of any one , that he is an Atheist ; because , unless his whole thoughts do at all times carry him against all design , or government of a Mind , he is no perfect Atheist : for , to believe any thing of design , or government of a Mind , tho limited , and not infinitly powerful , is to believe something of a God. And that this is a proper way of speaking , and a necessary one , appears from this ; that otherwise if no one were to be stiled a Theist in any degree , who permitted any thing to Chance ; then likewise would no one be to be stiled a Theist who permitted any thing to a contrary ill Principle , as those do , who believe a Devil or Daemon , opposit to God ; or that there is any such thing in the Universe , as real Ill , which is neither from chance nor from God. But if any one believes more of Chance and Confusion than of Design ; then is he more an Atheist than a Theist , from that which most reigns with him , and has the ascendent . As on the other side , if he believes more of the prevalency of an ill designing Principle than of a good one , he is then more a Daemonist than he is a Theist , and may be called a Daemonist from the side to which the balance most inclines . ALL these sorts both of Daemonism , Polytheism , Atheism , and Theism , may be mixed : as thus . 1. THEISM with Daemonism : 2. Daemonism with Polytheism : 3. Theism with Atheism ; 4. and so Daemonism with Atheism ; 5. and so Polytheism with Atheism . 6. Theism ( as it stands in opposition to Daemonism , and denotes a goodness in God ) with Polytheism : 7. and that part of Theism and Daemonism , together with Polytheism ; 8. or with Polytheism and Atheism . 1. AS when the one chief Mind or soveraign Being is divided betwixt a good and ill Nature , by being the cause of ill as well as good . 2. AS when there is not one , but several corrupt Minds that govern ; which may be call'd Polydaemonism . 3. AS when Chance is not excluded ; but that God and Chance divide : for instance , JUPITER govern'd both the Gods and Men , but could not prevent the ill fate of his Son SARPEDON , nor the growth of the Titans , who sprung not from him , but from Chance , and fought against him to gain the Sovereignty . 4. AS when an evil Daemon and Chance divide . 5. AS when many Minds and Chance divide . 6. AS when there are more Minds than one , but agreeing in good , and with one and the same will and reason . 7. AS when there is 〈…〉 good Principle , and an ill Principle ; or several such Principles or Minds , both good and bad . 8. AS when the last is together with Chance . RELIGION excludes none of these except perfect Atheism . Undoubtedly perfect Daemonists there are in Religion ; because we know whole Nations that worship a Devil or Fiend , to whom they sacrifice and pray , only to prevent the mischief he would do them . And we know that there are those of some Religions , who give no other Idea of their God , but of a Being arbitrary , violent , causing ill , and ordaining to misery ; which is a Devil in the place of God. NOW as there are all these opinions concerning a God ; and that there are some who have no opinion at all , either through Scepticism , and a doubt which to assent to , or by having never thought at all , so as to be influenced by any belief in Religion , or any opinion in Philosophy as to this matter ; the consideration is , how any of these Opinions , or this of having no constant Opinion , or no Opinion at all , dos consist , or is inconsistent with Virtue . SECT . II. BUT to examin now concerning VIRTUE . There is in every Creature a certain Interest or Good , which is as an End in that Creature ; and to which End if any thing either of his Appetites , Passions or Affections be not conducing , but the contrary , this is ill to him : and in this manner he is ill with respect to himself ; as he is said to be ill also with respect to others , when any such Appetites or Passions make him injurious to them . And if , by the natural constitution of any rational Creature , the same irregularities of Appetite which make him to be ill towards others , make him to be ill also as to himself ; and that the same regularity of Affections which makes him to be good in one sense , makes him to be good also in the other ; then is that Goodness by which he is thus useful to others ( if this perhaps be what we call Virtue ) a real good to himself . WHETHER this be so or not , is reserv'd to be consider'd afterwards . Our present design is , to examin separatly the good of Virtue to Society . IF any one will maintain that a Creature well constituted as to himself , may yet be contrariwise towards others ; then , notwithstanding a Creature be thus good for himself , this is not enough to make it be said of him that he is a good Creature ; unless he could be understood to be absolute and complete in himself , and without any real relation to any thing in the Universe besides . For if there be any where in nature a System of which this living Creature must be consider'd as a part ; then , if the Creature be to carry the name of good , he must be such a part as makes to the good of that System or Whole . Now if there be any thing in the structure of a particular Animal more than what has relation to himself , or his own privat System or Nature , and by which he has an absolute relation to some other thing , or other System or Nature without him ; then is this Animal but a part of some other System : for instance , if an Animal have the parts of a Male , it is with a relation to the Female ; and the parts both of the Male and Female have a relation to another thing besides the System of themselves . So that they are parts of another System : which System is that of a particular species of living Creatures that have some one common Nature , or are provided for by some one order or constitution of things subsisting together , and uniting to that end , of their support . IN the same manner , if a whole species of Animals be such as contribute to some other thing ; and that their Existence has a necessary relation to something else , or to the existence of some other species of Animals ; then is that whole species but a part of a System . For instance , to the existence of a Spider , the existence of such Animals as Flies is made to be necessary : so that the Fly has a relation to the Spider , as the Web of the Spider , and the Spider it self have relation to such Animals as Flies . And thus , in the structure of one of these Animals , there is absolutely as apparent and perfect a regard and relation to the other , as in the system of our selves and in our own body there is a relation of parts one to another ; as of the stomach to the limbs : or , as in the branches or leaves of a Tree , we see a relation to a root and trunk . In the same manner are Flies necessary to the existence of other Creatures , both Fowls and Fishes . And thus are other species or kinds subservient to one another ; which is being Parts of a certain system , according to which the nature of Animals is disposed . SO that there is a System therefore of all Animals together ; an animal System , and an animal Nature , or a Nature common to all Animals . IN the same manner if the whole system of Animals , together with that of Vegetables , and all other things in this world of ours ; that is to say , if this whole system of the Earth has a relation to , or a dependence on any thing else whatsoever ( as it has , for instance , with respect to the Sun , and Planets round that Sun ) then is the Earth but a PART of some other system . And since there must be a SYSTEM OF ALL THINGS , a universal Nature , or Nature common to the whole ; there is no particular being or system which must not be either good or ill in that general System of the Vniverse : For if it be insignificant and of no use , it is a fault or imperfection , and consequently ill in the general System . Therefore if any being be wholly and really ILL , it must be ill with respect to the universal System ; and then the System of the Universe is ill or imperfect . But if the ill of one privat System be the good of other Systems , and be still the good of the general System ( as when one Creature lives by the destruction of another ; one thing is generated from the corruption of another ; or one planetary System or Vortex may swallow up another ) then is the ill of that privat System no ill in it sell ; more than the pain of breeding teeth is ill in a System or Body , where without that occasion of pain , the body would suffer worse by being defective . So that we cannot say of any Being , that it is wholly and absolutely ill , unless we can positively shew and ascertain it , that that which we call ILL is not GOOD in some other System , nor in THE WHOLE . BUT if any intire species of Animals be destructive to all the other Species , then is that to be call'd an ill Species , as being of ill in the animal Nature or System . And if in any species of Animals ( as in Men , for example ) one man is such as to be of a nature pernicious to the rest , then is he an ill Man. BUT we do not say a man is an ill man , because he has the Plague-spots upon him , or because he has convulsive fits which make him strike and wound those that come near him . Nor do we say a man is a good man , when his hands are ty'd , which hinders him from doing the harm that he has a mind to do , or ( which is near the same ) when he abstains from executing his ill purpose , through a fear of some impending punishment , or through an allurement of some privat pleasure or advantage , which draws him from his ill intention . SO that in a sensible Creature , that which is not done through any affection ( and consequently with no knowledg , consciousness or perception at all ) makes neither good nor ill in the nature of that Creature , according to the sense we speak in , when we say a Creature is a good or an ill Creature . And whatever is done either of good or ill , otherwise than as through good or ill affections in that Creature , it is in the nature of that Creature neither good nor ill , according to the common understood sense of a good or ill Creature , a good or ill Man. A CREATURE in this sense is only good therefore when Good or Ill ( that is to say , a Good or an Ill to his System , or to that which he has a relation to ) is the immediat object of some Affection moving him : it being then only to be truly said that he has good Affections , good Inclinations or Passions , a good Nature , or a good Soul. FOR if a Creature that is mov'd by a passion of Hatred to his own kind , be by a violent fear of something hurtful to himself , mov'd so as to do that Good which he is not inclined to , by any affection to the Good it self ; it is not good ( that is to say , good as above ) which is the object of the affection moving him : for that which moves him is no affection relating to any good of his Species , or of that which he is joined to , or is a part of : and therefore there is no Goodness there ; that is , there is nothing which takes from , or abates any thing of the ill Nature or ill Disposition ( which is the true illness of the Creature ) altho the effects of that ill nature or ill disposition be accidentally prevented , or that some Good come accidentally to be wrought by that Creature , without good Nature , good Disposition , or good Intention . IF there be any affection towards privat Good , which is for the good of the Species in general that every individual should have , this cannot be other than a good Affection ; 〈…〉 it be not for such affection as this , that a Creature is commonly called good . IF there be any affection towards privat Good which is not really consistent with such privat Good or Happiness ; this , as being hurtful to the Creature , and being superfluous , and such as must detract from , anticipate , or prevent the other good affections , is vitious and ill . IF there be any affection towards privat or self-good which is consistent altogether with real privat Good or Happiness , but is inconsistent with that of the other kind , the public Good or good of the Species ( which whether a thing possible to be suppos'd or no , will be afterwards consider'd ) this must be ill and vitious in the common sense of Illness and Vice ; for altho profitable to the particular Creature , it is injurious to the Society or Whole . If the Affection , by being only in a moderate degree , be agreeable to the other general Good ; but by being immoderate , is the contrary ; then is the immoderate degree of this affection vitious , but not the moderate . And thus , if there be any thing which is the occasion of a more than ordinary self-concernment or regard to separat and privat Good , or of an over-great extension of the appetite 〈…〉 attention of the Mind towards what is merely of self-good , or reputed self-good ; this , as being detracting from the affections towards other Good , and inconsistent with just and equal concern for the Species , or towards public Good , must necessarily be ill and vitious : and this is what is called selfishness . NOW , if there be any affection towards self-good , or towards pleasure , which is in it self contributing to the other good , that of the Species or System ; then is that affection so far good , as that it is absolutely necessary in order to constitute a Creature good . FOR if the want of such an affection ( as for instance , of that towards Self-preservation , or towards Generation ) be of injury to the Species or System ; then is it vitious in some degree to want those affections , or to have such as are contrary : as no body would doubt to pronounce , if they saw a man who minded not any precipices that lay in his way , or who had a disposition that rendred him averse to any commerce with Woman-kind , and of consequence unfitted him through illness of Temper ( and not merely through a defect of Constitution ) for the propagation of his Species or Kind . SO that the affection to self-good or privat good , may be a good affection or an ill affection . For if the affection towards self-good be too strong ( as for instance , the love of Life , which by being over-great , unfits a Creature for any generous Act , and hinders him in the doing his PART ) then is it vitious ; and if vitious , the Creature that is mov'd and acted by that , is vitiously mov'd , and can never be otherwise than vitious in some degree , whilst mov'd by that vitious affection . Therefore , if through such an over-great love of Life and Being , a Creature be accidentally induc'd or engag'd to do a good thing , or several good things ( as he might be upon the same terms induc'd to do ill ) he is not any more a good or a virtuous Creature for this good he dos , than a man is so much more a good man for pleading a just Cause which he is hired to , or for fighting in a good Cause against a Tyrant whom he happens to have a privat quarrel with , and whom he fears or hates on that account only . WHATSOEVER therefore is done that happens to be of good to the Species , or to the System as above , through this affection towards self-good , or separat privat Good , dos not imply any more Goodness in the Creature than as the affection is good . And if that affection in it self be not to be stiled a good or virtuous Affection ; whatsoever happens through it , is not Goodness nor Virtue , nor the Creature any more a virtuous or good Creature : but let him do whatsoever Good , if it be only that vitious affection of exorbitant selfishness , or an excessively extended Appetite towards Self-good , which moves him ; and that there be wanting therefore to move him any good affection , such as ought of right to do it ; the Creature is in it self still vitious , and will always be so in some degree , whilst the passion towards Self-good , tho ever so moderate and reasonable , is in any degree his motive in the doing that which a natural affection to his kind should have mov'd him to ; but , which natural Affection is wanting in him , or so weakly implanted as to be insufficient to move him without help from the other . NOR indeed can there be any goodness till it comes to be a part of the natural Temper of a Creature , such a one as is mov'd by affections , to be carri'd by some immediate affection , directly and not consequentially or by accident , to Good or against Ill : that is to say , till some Good or Ill ( which is a Good or an Ill as above ) come to be the object of his affection , either as towards it , or against it ; and that such affection become part of his natural Temper : for in the instance of Fear beforemention'd , where through fear a Creature hating his own Kind , is kept from hurting them , or is even induced to do them good ; in this case the fear of self-ill or privat ill , or love of self-good or privat good , is part of the natural Temper : but the fear or abhorrence of other Ill , or love of other Good ( which is requisit in a good Creature ) is no part of the natural Temper , but far the contrary . So , let the Creature act how it will , or whatever way it is casually mov'd by those affections which regard merely privat or separat Good or Ill ; it will not have any thing more of true goodness on that account , but will be still vitious and depraved , unless the natural Temper come about , and the nature of its Affections change . FOR instance , if a Creature naturally fierce and cruel , lose that fierceness , and is made tame , gentle and treatable ; then is his natural Temper chang'd . Suppose now that the Creature has indeed a tame , gentle and mild Carriage , but that it proceeds only from the fear of his Keeper ; which if set aside , his other Passion instantly breaks out ; then is that mildness not his natural Temper : but his natural Temper is what it was , and the Creature still as ill a Creature in its own nature . SUPPOSE on the other side , that a Creature be naturally inclin'd towards the preservation of its young ; but that the terror of the Hunters , or of an Enemy in some extraordinary case , cause it to abandon them : in this case the Temper of the Creature remains still what it was , and is not prejudic'd or impair'd , tho hindred from operating by a strong Passion suspending it for the time . But if by any operation of outward things , or by any thing from within , that Passion or Affection towards the young comes to grow weaker , so that other Passions may more easily prevail over it ; then is the natural Temper chang'd in some degree , and the Creature not so good a Creature . NOTHING therefore being properly either goodness or illness in a Creature , but what is from his natural Temper ( or from those Passions or Affections which constitute natural Temper ) as it respects that Good or Ill of his Kind or Species ; a good Creature or a good Man in such a one as by his Affections or natural Temper , is carried primarily and immediately , and not secondarily and accidentally , to Good and against Ill ; and an ill Man the contrary : who is wanting in right Affections of force enough to carry him towards Good , and bear him out against Ill , or who is carried by his natural Affections just contrarywise ; to Ill , and against Good. IF the natural Temper be vitious , the man is vitious in the same degree : and so if the natural Temper be good , he is in the same degree good . IF a man be by his natural Temper just , equitable , kind ; but that his natural Temper towards Ambition fights against his other Temper , but not so as to conquer it ; in this case he is good still by natural Temper ; the better natural Temper being that which is prevalent in him , and has the mastery . WHEN in the general , all the Affections or Passions are suted to the Good that we have spoke of ( the good of the System to which man relates ) then is the natural Temper , and consequently the man , chiefly good . If any such Passion or Affection be wanting , or any Passion or Affection be redundant and over and above , or too little and weak , or repugnant , or any way such as to be unconsonant to that good , and disserviceable and contrary to that end ; then is it vitious . I NEED not instance in Rage , Revengefulness , and other such ( where it is so obvious ) to shew how they are ill , and constitute an ill Creature : but even in Kindness and Love , tho rightly plac'd , and towards a proper object ( as when it is that sort of love of a Creature to its young ) if it be immoderate and beyond a certain degree , it is vitious . On the other side , not to have it at all , or not to have it to a certain degree , is a Vice in the Temper : and not to have it at all towards this object , but to some other which is improper ( as when a fantastical Woman is fonder of a Toy , or of some tame Animal , than of her Child ) this is a double Vice. But where the good Passion is too intense and eager , as where love to the young , or pity is in that degree ; it is both hurtful to the Creature , and disserviceable to that end it carries to : for so over-fondness is destructive to the young , and excessive pity uncapable of giving succor . Thus the excess of motherly Love is a vitious fondness ; over great pity , effeminacy and weakness ; over great concern for self-preservation , meanness and cowardwise ; too little , rashness ; and none at all , or that which is contrary ( viz. a Passion or Passions inclining to self-destruction ) a very great depravity . IN a Creature capable of forming general Notions of things , not only the sensible things that offer themselves to the sense , are the objects of the Affection ; but the very actions themselves , and the affections of Pity , Charity , Kindness , Justice , and so their contraries , being brought into the Mind by reflection , become Objects ; as even that very thing it self of a good and virtuous Life , or the PART of a good and virtuous Creature , having a thorow good Affection , or intire good Affections : so that , by means of this reflected sense , there arises another kind of Affection , which is towards the very Affections themselves that were first felt , and are now the subject of a new feeling , when either they cause a liking or aversion . And thus the several Motions , Inclinations , Passions , Dispositions , and consequent Carriage and Behavior of Creatures in the various parts of Life , being in several scenes represented to the Mind , which readily discerns the good and the ill towards the Species or Public ; it proves afterwards a new work for the Affection , either virtuously and soundly to incline to , and affect what is just and right , and disaffect what is contrary ; or , vitiously and corruptly to affect what is ill , and disregard or hate what is worthy and good . AND in this case alone it is that we call any Creature virtuous , when it can have a notion of Good , and can make Goodness and Illness an object , or have the speculation or science of what is morally good and ill , of what is admirable or blameable , right or wrong : for tho we may call a Horse a vitious Horse ; and so in the case of other Animals and things ( as a vitious Medicin , a vitious Stomach ) yet we never say of a good Horse , or even of an Idiot or Changeling , tho ever so well natur'd and good , that he is virtuous . SO that if a Creature be generous , kind , constant , compassionate ; yet if he cannot reflect on what he dos , nor approve of what he dos or sees others do , by observing what that thing is that is generous , just , or honest ; and making that idea or conception of Goodness , or a good Action done through good Affection , to be an object of his Affection , he has not the name of being virtuous : for thus , and no otherwise , he is capable of having a sense , in any kind , of what is right or wrong ; that is to say , of what is done through just , equal , and good Affection , or what is not so . IF any thing be done through an Affection which is not just , equal , and universally conducing to the good of the Species or System to which man belongs ; this is certainly of the nature of wrong . If the Affection be equal , sound , and good , and the subject of the Affection such as may with advantage to Society be ever in the same manner prosecuted or affected ; this cannot but be right . For , Wrong is not barely such action as is the cause of harm ( for thus a Son striking to kill an enemy , but killing with that blow his Father , would do wrong , which is not so ) but that which is done through insufficient or unequal Affection ( as when a Son has no concern for the safety of a Father , or prefers the safety of an indifferent person to the safety of his Father ) this is of the nature of Wrong . BY unequal Affection is meant Affection unproportionably or unequally applied , not towards the Object as it always actually exists or is ( for then the running to save a Father in distress , but taking a wrong man for him , would be unequal Affection , and consequently wrong ) but towards the Objects or Object , as it appears to be , as it is the Object of the Mind , and as represented by the Senses . For in this instance last mentioned , the Affection was , according to this meaning , rightly applied to the Object ; so that the Affection was not unjust , but equal and right , tho the Sight perhaps were ill ; and that it were a purblind man who thus mistook a Stranger for his Father . NEITHER can any weakness or imperfection of this sort create wrong , as occasioning the unequal application , abuse or prostitution of the Affection , so long as the Object , in the manner that it is taken or apprehended , is neither absurd nor improper , but sutable to , and worthy of the Affection or degree of Affection applied to it : for if it be possible to suppose a rational Creature who has an intire and forcible Affection towards Right and Good , and who never fails in a just and right degree of Affection towards every Object presenting it self , but that his Memory or Parts fail him ; and that the Objects are through the Senses , as through ill Glasses , falsly conveyed and represented to him , not as they are actually , but after a different manner ; the person thus failing , since his failure is not in the Affection , but elsewhere , is only vitious where his defect is ; that is to say , in his Senses ( as in his Hearing , Seeing , &c. ) or in his Memory : but it being not for ill Memory , or ill Organs of Sense that a man is called vitious , this is not Vitiousness or Wrongfulness in one thus defective . BUT as the extravagance of Opinion and Belief is such , that in some Countries we have known that even Monkeys , Cats , Crocodiles , and such like Animals , have bin held for Deities ; should it appear to any one of the Religion and Faith of that Country , that to save such a Creature as a Cat , before a Parent , was Right ; and that the Cat deserved the greater affection of the two ; this would be wrong , notwithstanding the appearance of the thing , or any appearance or belief in the World. SO that whatsoever is the cause of the misconception or misapprehension of the worth or value of any Object , so as to raise an affection or degree of affection towards it , such as ought not to be ; this must be the occasion of Wrong , as it is the occasion of an inequality or disproportion in the affection towards the Object represented or appearing . For thus he who affects or loves a man for the sake of something which is reputed honorable , but which is in reality vitious , is himself vitious and ill : as when an ambitious Man , by the fame of his high Attempts ; a Robber or a Pyrat by his boasted Enterprizes , raises in any others an esteem and admiration of himself , and of that immoral and inhuman Character which deserves abhorrence . But on the other side , he who loves and esteems another , as believing him to have that Virtue which he has not , but only counterfeits , is not on this account wrongful , vitious , or corrupt . SO that a mistake in fact ( where there is due advertency ) being no cause of , nor any ways implying ill Affection , can be no cause of Wrong . But whatsoever is a mistake of Right ( that is to say , of the worth of the Object represented ) this being the cause of unequal or unproportioned Affection , is the cause of Wrong . BUT as there are many occasions where the matter of Right ( that is to say , the worth of the Object represented ) may even to the most discerning part of Mankind appear difficult and of doubtful decision ( as when a man amongst several Relations or Friends about to perish , doubts whom he shall first succor ) it is certain that the very least mistake in this way , the least wrong preference , tho in a matter the most intricate , is in strictness of speaking an Injustice or Wrong : yet however , as to that name or appellation of a worthy or good Man , or Man of Integrity , it is not the very least error of this sort , or the slightest inequality or disproportion of the Affection , through a mistake of Judgment , which takes away that denomination , and makes a Man to be esteemed a vitious or ill Man , whilst the Aim and Intention is still good , and the Affection strong and of full force towards public Good , Justice and Equity . Tho on the other side , where this good Aim is ever so much ; and where the Affection towards Right is ever so strong ; yet if through Superstition or strange Custom and Vogue , or through any wildness or extravagancy of Opinion , there come to be very gross mistakes in the assignment or application of the Affection ( as when human Sacrifices or Bestiality are practised as worthy and right ) this cannot but be wrong and vitious ; and must denominate a man ill : and the same when the Mistakes are less gross ; but so complicated and frequent , that a Creature cannot well live in a natural state ; nor with due affections , so as to perform his part even but tolerably well towards his Society or System . AND thus we find how far Virtue ( which is Goodness or Soundness of Affection in a rational Creature ) depends on a right knowlege of what is right and wrong , and on such a right use of Reason as may give ground to a right application and exercise of the Affections ; that nothing horrid or unnatural , nothing unexemplary , nothing contrary to , or destructive of that natural Affection by which the Species or Society is upheld , may on any account or principle whatsoever , through any notion of Honor , or on any pretence of good to Mankind , or of obedience to supreme Powers , be at any time affected or prosecuted as a good and proper Object of inclinable Affection , Love , and Esteem . For such an Affection as this must be wholly vitious : and whatsoever is acted upon it , can be no other than Vice and Immorality . And thus if there be any thing which teaches men either Treachery , Ingratitude , or Cruelty , tho under the color and pretence of Religion , or of any present or future good to Mankind or Society ; if there be any thing which teaches men ( as amongst some Indians ) that to torment Captives of War in sport , and to eat their flesh , is a thing very plausible ; or that to eat the flesh of Enemies ; or that to cut and slash themselves in a religious Fury before their God ; or to commit all sort of Bestiality , is excellent or lovely in it self , or conducing to his particular Nation or Society , or to Society in general , or to the Interest or Honor of the Deities , and as such , praiseworthy and honorable ; be it what it will that teaches this ; be it Custom that gives applause , or Religion that gives a Sanction ; this is not Virtue , nor ever will be of any kind , or in any sense ; but is still horrid Depravity in these men , notwithstanding any Custom or Religion of their Country , which may be ill and vitious it self , but can never alter the eternal measures and true nature of Virtue . TO conclude therefore , upon this matter , from what has bin said before . As to those Creatures who are only capable of being moved by sensible Objects ; they can only be either GOOD or Vitious ( for we cannot say they are VIRTUOUS or Vitious ) as those sort of Affections stand . A Creature on the other hand , capable of framing in his mind those other rational Objects of moral Good , of Justice and Right , of what is generous , worthy , and becoming ; altho his other Affections towards the sensible Objects may , any of them , remain ill ; yet if they do not prevail over him , because of his good Affections to the other sort ( that is to say , to Goodness and Virtue , as they are Objects of his Reason ) then is his natural Temper good in the main ; and the Person esteem'd-virtuous by all people , according to that natural Temper which is the Test still , and by which every thing of Goodness or Virtue is measur'd . NOW , if by natural Temper any one is passionate , angry , fearful , amorous , or the like ; but that he resists these Passions , and keeps to Virtue , notwithstanding all their impression and force , we say commonly in this case , that the Virtue is so much the greater : and we say well . Tho if that which keeps the Person virtuous , in opposition to these Dispositions , be no good Affection elsewhere in the Temper towards Goodness or Virtue ; but that it be only some Affection towards privat good or self-good ( as hope of Reward , or dread of Punishment ) then is this not so much as any Virtue at all , as has bin shewn before . But this still is evident , that if an angry Temper bears , or an amorous one refrains , so as that nothing of Severity , nor any Action immodest or irregular can be drawn or forc'd from such a one , thus strongly tempted ; we applaud the Virtue of the Person , above what we should do , if he were free of this Temptation and these Propensities : tho , at the same time , there is no body will say that a propensity to Vice can be any way understood to be an addition to Virtue , or helping to complete a virtuous Character . But thus it is . If there be any part of the natural Temper in which ill Passions or Affections are stir'd , and which is consequently vitious ; but that in another part of the natural Temper the Affections are so vastly forcible towards Good ; and that the sentiments of Right and Wrong , of a virtuous Life , and of Integrity , are so strongly fixed , as to master these other Attempts , of a contrary vitious Temper ; then is this the greatest proof imaginable , how strong the principle of Virtue is in such a person , and how much a thorow good Affection toward Good and Right ( which is the true principle of Virtue ) is strongly fixed in and possessed of the natural Temper . Whereas if there be no such ill Passions stirring in the natural Temper , a person may be much more cheaply virtuous ; and may live virtuously without ▪ having so much of a virtuous principle as this other . But if this other , who has the principle of Virtue so highly and so strongly implanted , be without , or do lose these natural Impediments ; he certainly loses nothing in Virtue , or is wanting in any manner to Virtue ; but losing that other part which is vitious in his natural Temper , is more entire to Virtue , and has it in a clearer and higher degree . HOWEVER ill the natural Temper be with respect to the sensible Objects ; as for instance , however passionate , furious , lustful or cruel any Creature naturally be ; yet if there be any attractiveness or prevalency in those rational Objects of Justice , Generosity , Gratitude , or any other Image or Representation of Virtue , so as that it draws an Affection towards it ; there is however some Virtue here . And on the other side , however vitious the Mind be ; or whatever ill Rules or Principles it goes by ; yet if there be any flexibleness in the Temper towards the sensible Objects of moral Good or Ill ( as when there is any such thing as Mercy , Compassion , Bounty ) still there is some good left in that Creature ; and he is not wholly unnatural and depraved . THUS a Ruffian who refuses to discover his Associates out of a sense of Fidelity and Honor of any kind whatever ; and who rather than betray them is contented to endure Torments in a Dungeon , and there expire , has something of the principle of Virtue , and may be call'd virtuous in some degree : and so in the same manner that Malefactor who rather than do the office of Executioner to his Relations , chose to be executed with them . IN short , therefore , it is hard to pronounce of any man , that he has no Virtue , or that he is entirely vitious ; there being few even of the horridest Villains who have not something of Virtue , or some Goodness . Nothing being more just than what is a known saying , THAT IT IS AS HARD TO FIND A MAN WHOLLY ILL , AS WHOLLY GOOD : because wherever there is any good Affection left , there is some Goodness or some Virtue still remaining . AND , having consider'd thus as to Virtue , what it is , we may now consider how it stands with respect to the Opinions concerning a Deity , as above-mention'd . SECT . III. THE nature of Virtue consisting ( as has bin explain'd ) in just and equal Affection , which we may hereafter call a due sense of Right and Wrong , as comprehending in one the soundness both of Judgment and Affection ; nothing can in a Creature capable of such a sense , exclude a principle of Virtue , or can obstruct or make it ineffectual , but what 1. EITHER wholly , or in some degree , excludes or takes away the sense of Right and Wrong . 2. OR causes a wrong and disturb'd sense of what is right and wrong . 3. OR , tho there be a sense of Right and Wrong , is the means however of guiding the Affection to what is contrary . As when a man knowing any Action or . Behavior to be morally ill and deform'd , yet through some violent passion , as of Lust or Anger , or through love of some imagined good , he notwithstanding commits ▪ the ill or unsociable Action . AND so , on the other side , nothing can be assistant to , or promote Virtue , but what either in some manner nourishes and supports that sense of Right and Wrong , or preserves it from being false and imaginary , or causes it , when sound and genuin , to be obey'd and submitted to , by subduing and subjecting the other Affections to it . UPON this account therefore , we are to consider , how it is that any of these Opinions about the subject of a Deity do affect in these cases , or cause any of these three things . I. AS to the first case , THE TAKING AWAY THE NOTION OR SENSE OF RIGHT AND WRONG . It will not be imagin'd , that by this is meant the taking away the notion or sense of what is good or ill for the Species , or in Society , since this is what no rational Creature can be unsensible of : but , it is then that we say it of a Creature , that he has lost the sense of Right and Wrong , when being able to discern the Good and Ill of his Species , he has at the same time no concern for either , nor any sense of excellency or baseness in what relates to one or the other . So that except merely with relation to privat or separat Good , there is nothing which gains any estimation or any good affection towards it ; nothing which is thought right , or worthy in it self of admiration , love or good affection ; nor any thing on the other side which is accordingly dislik'd or hated , as morally ill , be it ever so horrid or deform'd . THERE is in effect no rational Creature whatsoever , but knows that when he offends or dos harm to any one , he cannot fail to create an expectation or fear of like ill , and consequently a resentment and animosity in any Creature looking on ; and therefore must be conscious to himself of being liable and exposed in some manner to such a treatment from every one , as if he had in some degree offended all . THUS Offence and Injury is always known as punishable , and claiming punishment from every one ; and Equal Behavior , which is therefore called Merit , as rewardable and well deserving from every one . This is no more than what the wickedest creature imaginable has , and cannot but have a sense of . So that if we have any farther meaning in this , of a sense of Right and Wrong ; if there be any sense of Right and Wrong which an absolute wicked creature has not , it can be only the hatred and dislike of what is accounted morally ill ; HATRED of offence and injury , as such merely , and the love of , or approbation of what is accounted morally good ; LOVE of equal Behavior ; equal and kind Affection as such merely , and not because of consequent Punishment or Reward , which implies only love of privat Good , hatred of privat Ill , and not of any thing farther , as in it self amiable or detestable . So that Sense of Right and Wrong , as here treated of , is nothing but the very Affection it self of kindness or dislike to such objects of moral good or ill , as above explain'd . IT is scarcely to be conceiv'd , that any Creature should be at the very first so ill , and of so curst a nature , as that if it be merely a sensible , not a rational Creature , it should as soon as it comes to be try'd by objects , have no one passion of Goodness towards its kind , no foundation in its Temper of either pity , love , succorableness , or the like : or if the Creature be more than sensible , and be a rational Creature , that it should as soon as it comes to be try'd by rational Objects , as of Justice , Generosity , and other Virtue , have no inclining Affection , no kind of liking towards these , or dislike towards what is on the contrary side cruel , horrid , base , villanous , or the like , but so as to be of absolute indifference towards any thing of this kind ; this is in a manner impossible to suppose . SENSE of Right and Wrong therefore being as natural to us as Natural Affection it self , and being a first principle in our Constitution and Make ; there is no speculative Opinion , Perswasion , or Belief , which is capable immediatly , and of it self to exclude or destroy it : and it being it self an Affection of first rise and production in the affectionate part , the Soul or Temper ; nothing but contrary Affection , by frequent check and controul , can operate upon it so as to make it cease to be ; since that which is of original and pure nature , nothing but contrary Habit or Custom ( a second nature ) is able to displace : for , where the Mind is the most earnestly bent , merely against any bodily gesture or meen , either natural or by Habit acquir'd , and would endeavor to break it , so as to remove it wholly out of the carriage ; it is not by such an immediate and sudden disapprobation , or contrary bent of the Mind that this can be remov'd ; neither can that Affection in the Soul , of hatred to Inhumanity , love of Mercy , or whatsoever else in a rational Creature implies a sense in some degree of Right and Wrong , be instantly , nor yet without much force and violence effac'd or struck out of the natural Temper , even by the means of the most pernicious Opinion and Belief in the world . But this mischief being not to be effected directly through any Opinion , but in consequence and by effect of untoward and opposit Affection ( which may often be owing to , and occasion'd by Opinion ) we may then speak of it more particularly when we speak of the ill operation of other Affections , set in opposition to that of a sense of Right and Wrong . II. AS to the second case . If there be A SENSE OF RIGHT AND WRONG , BUT THAT IT BE MORE OR LESS MISTAKEN AND CONFOUNDED , as in the case of those barbarous Nations , as above ; it often happens that it is no Opinion at all about the subject of a Deity which influences in this place : for it is frequently nothing else but the custom of some Countries , and the force of Education against Nature , where such and such things are repeatedly view'd with Applause and Honor accompanying them . So that it is possible that a man forcing himself , may eat the flesh of his enemies , not only against his Stomach , but against his Nature ( if I may so speak ) and yet think it very right and honorable , as being of considerable service to his Community , and capable of advancing the name , and spreading the terror of his Nation . BUT to speak of the Opinions relating to a Deity , and what effect they have in this place , which is our business . AS to Atheism , it dos not seem that it can directly have any effect at all here towards the setting up , or making of a false species or shew of Right or Wrong . For tho a man by ill practice , which may be occasion'd by Atheism , may come to lose , in a manner , all sense of Right and Wrong ( that is to say , all sense of good or ill , amiableness or deformity in any moral Action , as above ) tho Atheism , thus , may be the occasion of an almost thorow selfishness , as when a creature has scarcely any thing that attracts him but what is of a selfish kind , and what relates to a deliberat self-end , the satisfaction of some Lust , or the security of the animal State ; yet it dos not seem that Atheism should of it self be the cause of any such estimation , or valuing of any thing as noble of performance , generous , self-worthy and deserving , which was just the contrary : so as that it should be thought that the being able to eat man's Flesh , to commit Bestiality , or any such like Actions as have bin mention'd , were after the same manner , good and excellent in themselves . But this is certain , that by means of ill Religion , or Superstition , many things the most horridly unnatural and inhuman , come to be receiv'd as most excellent , good and laudable in themselves : For , where the commiting Bestiality is taught as a religious Practice , there it is generally in high esteem , and thought to be in it self a thing excellent : For if any thing that is abominable and horrid be injoin'd by Religion , as the suppos'd command of some Deity ; if the thing be not taken for good and excellent , but for horrid and abominable , then must the Deity be taken for such , and be thought of as a Being odious and malignant ; which every Religion forbids to believe . Therefore whatever teaches the love and admiration of a Deity , that has any character of Ill , teaches at the same time a love and admiration of that Ill , and causes that to be taken for good and amiable which is horrid and detestable . SO that if the Praise and Love of a Deity be that which is proper to every Religion , there is no Religion where God is not represented intirely good , and free of malignity , injustice and cruelty , but what must make that sort whatsoever it be , of malignity , injustice , or cruelty , to be applauded and taken for Good and Right ; and must be the cause therefore of mens acting against natural Affection , and of their growing malignant , unjust , cruel , and the like . FOR instance ; if JUPITER be he that is ador'd and reverenc'd ; and that the History of JUPITER makes him to be lustful , and to satiate his Lust in the most loose and exorbitant manner ; then is it impossible but his Worshipper believing this History and Character , must be taught a greater love of lustful Actions . If there be a Religion that teaches the adoration and love of a God , whose Character it is to be full of jealousy , captious , and of high resentment , subject to wrath and anger , furious , revengeful , and revenging injuries on others than those who did injury ; and if there be added in the Character of this God , a fraudulent inclination , incouraging deceit and treachery , favorable to a few , and that for slight causes or no cause , and cruel to the rest ; it is evident in the case of such a Religion as this , that it must of necessity raise even an approbation and respect towards the vices and imperfections of this kind , and breed accordingly that parallel disposition , that unsociable and jealous temper , partiality , selfishness , moroseness , bitterness and revengefulness , as well as treachery and inhumanity : for whatever is of this nature must in many cases appear noble to him who views these things in that Being to which he gives the highest Honor and Veneration . BUT , if it be suppos'd , that in the worship of such a God , there is nothing besides what proceeds merely from fear and aw , without the least esteem or love towards him , as to one suppos'd amiable or excellent ; then is not any one indeed by this opinion , misled as to his notion of Right and Wrong , of what is amiable or detestable in Actions . For if in following the precepts of his God , or doing what is necessary towards the satisfying of such his Deity , he be compell'd only by fear , and act against his inclination the thing which he dislikes as barbarous , unnatural , or any other way ill and odious ; then has he a sense of what is ill , and of what Right and Wrong is , and is sensible of ill in the character of his God : however nice he be in pronouncing any thing concerning it , or in not daring so much as to think formally about it out of a superstitious fear or shyness . For whoever pretends to believe that there is a God , and that God is just and good , must mean that there is such a thing as Justice and Injustice , Right and Wrong , according to which he pronounces that God is just : for if the Will of God , or Law of God alone , be said to be that which makes Right and Wrong , then must this be a name only for what is or is not his Will : for thus if by his will one Person were to be punish'd for anothers fault , this would be Just and Right ; and so the same , if arbitrarily and without reason , some Beings were made to suffer nothing but Ill , and others only to enjoy Good ; which to say is just , is to say nothing , or to speak without a meaning . AND thus it ever is , and must be an ill consequence in false and ill Religion , that where there is a real Reverence , Esteem and Worship of a supreme Being , represented not as absolutely just and perfect , it must occasion the loss of rectitude in the Creature so worshipping and adoring , and who is thus immorally Religious . TO this I need only add , that as the character of a vitious God ( or rather Daemon or Idol of the Mind ) dos injury to the affections of Men , disturbs and impairs the sense of Right and Wrong ; so on the other hand , it must highly contribute to the fixing of right Apprehensions , and a sound sense of Right and Wrong in men , to contemplate , respect , and adore a God who is ever , and on all accounts represented to them so as to be actually a true model and example of the most exact Justice , and highest Goodness and Worth ; and who by a constant good Affection express'd towards the Whole , must of necessity engage us to act within our Compass , or in our Sphere or System , according to a like Principle and Affection : and having once the good of the Species or Mankind in view , and as our end or aim , it must be with difficulty that we can be misguided to a wrong sense of what is Right or Wrong . Nor can any thing more prevail on men , or more naturally form their Minds to a union with Virtue and Excellence , than an establish'd opinion , such as this , concerning a supreme Deity . But of this afterwards . AS to this second case therefore ; RELIGION ( according to the kind it may be of ) is capable of doing great good or great harm , and ATHEISM not any positive good or harm . For , however it may be indirectly an occasion of mens losing a good and sufficient sense of Right and Wrong ; yet it will not , as Atheism merely , be the occasion of setting up false Right and Wrong , which only fantastical reasoning , ill custom , or ill Religion can do . III. AS to the last case , THE OPPOSITION OF OTHER AFFECTIONS TO THOSE VIRTUOUS ONES , WHICH CREATE A REAL SENSE OF RIGHT AND WRONG ; it is to be consider'd that a Creature having this sort of sense or good Affection in any considerable degree , must necessarily act according to it ; if this Affection be not oppos'd either by some interesting Affection towards a contrary imagin'd Self-good and privat Advantage , or by some strong and forcible passion , as of Lust or Anger , which may not only overbear the sense of Right and Wrong , but even the sense of privat Advantage too , and overrule even the most settled opinion of what is conducing to self-good . NOTHING therefore can overcome or suppress this sense we speak of , or injure the integrity of such a Creature , but what EITHER raises or affords growth to those strong and obstinat Passions ; OR otherwise causes an imagination of some interest or self-advantage in opposition to this affection of Virtue ; so as to cause this good disposition to be resisted and gone against deliberatly , and in cool judgment . Whatsoever is of this kind , besides that it turns a Creature towards Vice in spite of this other good disposition● it must in time also even wear out that good disposition it self , and so leave the Creature in a manner totally resign'd to Vice. NOW , in this former part of our Inquiry , our business is not to examin ( as we afterwards shall ) all the several ways by which this corruption is introduc'd or increas'd : but we are to consider how the opinions concerning a Deity do influence one way or another in this place , or cause this corruption whereby we act in contradiction of good and right Affection , and which is follow'd by the loss of that right Affection , or sense of Right and Wrong . AND this being after this manner complicated , we shall treat it more openly and at large . THAT it is possible for a Creature capable of using reflection , to have a liking or dislike of moral Actions , and consequently a sense of Right and Wrong , before such time as he may have any notion or sense of GOD at all ; this is what will hardly be question'd : it being a thing not expected , or any way possible , that a Creature such as Man , arising from his Childhood slowly and gradually , to several degrees of Reason and Reflection , should at the very first be taken up with those speculations or more refin'd sort of Reflections , about the subject of God's Existence . BUT to make this more plain ; let us suppose a Creature wanting Reason , or unable to reflect at all , who notwithstanding has many good Qualities and Affections ; as considering only that one of Pity or Compassionatness : it is certain that if you give to this Creature a reflecting faculty , it will at the same instant approve of Charity and Pity , be taken with any shew or representation of Pity , and think Pity amiable and good , and Cruelty the contrary : and so the same in case of any other Passion or Affection . And this is to be capable of Virtue , and to have a sense of Right and Wrong . BEFORE therefore that a Creature may be suppos'd to have any Notion or Opinion one way or other , concerning the subject of a God , he may be suppos'd to have a sense of Right and Wrong , and to have Virtue and Vice in different degrees ; as we know by experience of those who have liv'd in such places , or in such a manner as never to have enter'd into any thoughts or opinion at all in that matter ; who yet are very different amongst themselves , as to their Honesty , Good nature and Virtue . BUT whether we suppose in a Creature but the least part of this good disposition or virtuous Principle ; let us consider what it is ( as to any of these Opinions concerning a Deity ) that can , or is likely to raise any Affection in opposition ; or on the other side , may be able to prevent and hinder any such opposit Affection , subdue it , or make it less . NOW , as to the belief of a Deity , and how men are influenc'd to yield obedience , and act in conformity to such a supreme Being ; it must be either in the way of his POWER , as expecting advantage or harm from him , or in the way of his EXCELLENCY and adorable Perfections , as thinking it the perfection of Nature , and highest Glory and Honor to follow and imitate him , or to be approv'd by him . IF ( as in the first case ) there be a belief or conception of a Deity , who is fear'd as one that will punish such or such a Behavior ; and if upon this account , through the fear of such a certain Punishment , the Creature be restrain'd from doing that particular ill , which he is not otherwise in any manner averse from ; this is not , nor ever can be , as has bin prov'd , any Virtue or Goodness , any more than as it may be said perhaps , that there is meekness and gentleness in a Tyger chain'd up , or innocence and sobriety in a Monky under the disciplin of the Whip . For however orderly and well those Animals , or Man himself upon like terms , may be brought to act , while the Mind or Reason is not gain'd , nor the Inclinations carri'd that way ; but that Aw alone is that which prevails and forces obedience ; the obedience is but servil , and all that is done through it merely servil ; and the greater degree of such a submission or compliance is but the greater servility towards whatsoever subject it chance to be . For , whether such a Creature have a good Master , or an ill one , he is not less servil in his own nature : and tho the Master or Superior so fear'd be ever so perfect , and of so excellent a Nature , yet the greater and more prostitute submission that is caus'd in this case , and through this Principle or Motive only , is but the lower and more abject servitude , and implies the greater wretchedness and meanness in the Creature , as having those passions of Self-love , or towards Self-good so much more strong and excessive , that is to say , more faultily and vitiously ; as has bin explain'd . So that this belief of a God dispensing Rewards and Punishments according to such and such Actions , is not of it self directly the cause of Virtue ; tho it may be perhaps of a virtuous-like Behavior . But if it be the character of a Religion , to injoin not only the good Action , but the Affection , such as Charity and Love ; and that in reality it be the effect of such a Religion , to make men endeavor all they can to create in themselves such free dispositions to Goodness : then is a Person by this means made to have Virtue in any particular , when he begins to act through such sincere and sound Affection . And thus the fear of Punishment and hope of Reward may be understood to be the occasion of Virtue , when it gives rise to another Principle than it self , and is at length the occasion of doing good out of some other Affection than either that towards Reward , or that of apprehension and dread of Punishment ; there being no such thing possible as either actual Love , Charity , or Goodness , till such time . IF ( as in the second case ) there be a belief or conception of a Deity , who is admir'd and ador'd , as being understood to have the most high and glorious Qualities ; such as of infinit Power and Wisdom , which make him conspicuous and cause him of necessity to be reverenc'd and held in Veneration ; and if in the manner that this soveraign and mighty Being is apprehended , or as he is related and describ'd , there appear in him a high and eminent regard to what is good and excellent , a concern for the good of all , or an affection of Kindness and Love towards the Whole ; such an example as this ( of the good of which we have already spoken ) must certainly help to raise and increase the affection towards Virtue , and help to submit and subdue all other Affections to that . And if join'd to this , there be an opinion or apprehension of the superintendency and all-seeingness of such a supreme Being ; as one who is a witness and spectator of human Actions , and conscious of whatsoever is felt or acted in the Universe ; so that in the perfectest recess or deepest Solitude there is not wanting one closely join'd to us , whose Presence singly is of more moment than that of the most August Assembly on Earth , or of all Mankind overlooking , before whom as the shame of guilty Actions must be the greatest shame , so the Honor of well-doing , even under the unjust censure of a whole World , must be the greatest Honor and Applause ; in this case , it is to the commonest view apparent how far conducing a perfect Theism must be to Virtue , and how much want there is in Atheism . THEREFORE , if there be a Being conceiv'd , all-intelligent , and all-seeing , of infinit Power , Wisdom and Goodness ; the belief of such a Being ( which is barely the Theistical Belief and no more ) must of necessity , thus , be highly effectual to the creating or furthering of good Affections , and to the removing of contrary ones ; by rendring every thing that is of Virtue more lovely , splendid , and attractive , and every thing that is of Vice more ignominious and deform'd . WHAT the fear of future Punishments , and hopes of certain future Rewards , may farther do towards the promotion of Virtue ; and of what Benefit this accession of Belief may be to Virtue , we shall further consider as we proceed . BUT this in the mean while is certain , that neither can this fear or hope be of the kind of those Affections which we call good Affections , as being the springs and sources of all Actions truly good . Nor yet can it , as has bin prov'd , so much as admit of a thorow good Affection , where it stands as essential to any moral performance , or where it has to do , as but in part a motive to that which some other Affection ought alone to have bin a motive full and sufficient : so that it is therefore not only not the Cause , but is exclusive in some degree , of any virtuous Action , and must withal , as it increases , strengthen the vitious Principle , that of excessive selfishness , or habitual earnest attention of the Mind , and application of the Passions towards self-good ; which Principle as it is improv'd and made stronger every day , by the strong exercise of the Passions in this Subject of more extended Self-interest , must spread it self through the whole Life ; and by causing a greater attention to self-good in every thing else , must of necessity take off from , and diminish the Affections towards other Good , that is to say , public and extensive Good , or good of the System , as above ; in short , must destroy more and more true Generosity and Virtue , and introduce meanness and narrowness of Soul. THUS if true Piety be esteem'd a Love of God for his own excellency , it will follow , that as this solicitous regard to privat Good expected from him , is greater or lesser ; so it will prove either more or less a diminution to the Love of God for his own excellence , and consequently prove a diminution of Piety : because whilst God is belov'd only as the cause of privat Good to any one , he is belov'd but as any other instrument or means of Pleasure by any vitious Creature : and when there is more of this sort of Passion or Affection towards privat good , there is less room , as has bin shewn , for the other towards more general Good , or towards any deserving object worthy of Love and Admiration for its own sake ; such as is God. IN the same manner , if the love and desire of Life , or prolongation of Being , be remarkably strong in any Creature ; the stronger it is , the less he is able to have true submission or resignation to Providence , or the Rule and Order of God , and consequently the less is his Piety . And if his Resignation depends wholly on that expectation of infinit Reward , the meaning of his Resignation , whatever the appearance be , is only this , That he resigns all other things upon a condition of THAT which he himself confesses to be much beyond an Equivalent , viz. eternal Living , and in a State of highest Pleasure and Enjoyment . BUT , notwithstanding this , it is certain that altho the Principle of Virtue cannot in its own nature but suffer diminution by whatsoever is of that other Kind ; as by eagerness of Reward ( which by it self , and in the room of better Affection is mercenariness ) and dread of Punishment ( which is in the same sense servility : ) and altho as any such ardent pursuit of Pleasure , or over-great attention of the Mind to self-concernment increases , the principle of Generosity , Magnanimity and Virtue , must suffer and decrease ; yet it is certain that this Principle of fear of future Punishment and hope of future Reward may indirectly , and in particular circumstances , be the occasion of great good and advantage to Virtue ; and what this may be , we shall to the full endeavor to shew . IT has bin already consider'd how , that notwithstanding any implanted sense of Right and Wrong , or any good affection towards Society , yet by violent Passion , as by Rage or Lust , this other good Affection may be frequently control'd and overcome . Where therefore there is nothing in the Mind capable to make such Passions as these the objects of its aversion , and to cause them earnestly to be oppos'd and struggled against ; in this case , if there be any thing in Religion which creates a belief that Passions of this kind as well as their consequent Actions , are the object of a Deitys animadversion , it is certain that such a Belief must be allow'd beneficial to Virtue , as it will be allow'd to tend to the calming of the Mind , and to the disposing or fitting the Person to a better recollection and observance of that other good and virtuous Principle , which by being unobstructed must the more increase . THIS also may be said as to the support which this Belief of a future Reward and Punishment may prove to Virtue ; that as it is capable of raising men to Virtue who were at first in a manner strangers to it ; so where men are already in a virtuous Course , it may prove that which alone can save them from falling off from the Virtue they possess , into a licentious and vitious practise . TO prove how this may be , we may consider the thing thus . A Person who has much of goodness and natural rectitude in his Temper , being sensible of Poverty , Crosses and Adversity ; and being perhaps of a Nature too sensible towards some certain Pleasures , as of Fame or Reputation , Ease , Indolency or Repose ; it is certain that the meeting with any of these first , or the being disappointed in any of these latter , must give a sourness and distaste to the Temper , and make it averse to that which is the occasion of such ill . Now if the Person be so affected as to think his Honesty or strict Integrity to be at any time the occasion of this ill ; it is likely he may be made dissatisfi'd with his good Disposition and Principles . And if his own thoughts , or the corrupt insinuations of other men still present this to his Mind , that his Honesty is the occasion of this ill to him , and that if freed from this restraint of Virtue and Honesty , he might be much happier ; 't is very obvious that his love and relish towards Virtue and Honesty , must every day diminish , as the Temper grows uneasy and quarrels with it . But if he opposes to this the consideration , that Honesty carries with it , if not a present , at least a future recompence , so as to make up that loss to privat or self-good which he repines at ; then may this injury to his good Temper and honest Principle be prevented , and his Love or Affection towards Honesty and Virtue remain the same . IN the same manner where there is not a love , but a sort of aversion towards what is Good and Virtuous , as towards Lenity and Forgivingness , and that there is a love of its contrary , Revenge ; it is possible and very natural , that by the consideration that Lenity is , by its rewards , made the cause of a greater self-good ; that very Affection of Lenity and Mildness may be industriously nourish'd , and the contrary depress'd ; so that the good Affection may come at last to be seated in the Temper , and the good and proper Object to be belov'd , as by a Creature well affected , when no Punishment or reward is thought of . THUS we see that in a State or Public , a virtuous and good Administration , and an equal and just distribution of Rewards and Punishments is of service , not only to restrain vitious men , and to make them act usefully to the public ; but , by making Virtue to be apparently the interest of every one , it removes all prejudices against it , creates a fair reception for it , and leads men into that path which afterwards they cannot easily quit . For , thus a People made virtuous by the long course of a wise and just Administration , when ever this happens to be interrupted by some sudden Tyranny or Usurpation , they will on this account rather be raised to exert a stronger Virtue . And even , where by long and continued arts of a prevailing Tyranny , they are at last totally oppress'd , the seeds of that Virtue will still remain , and for some Ages afterwards shew themselves not wholly extinct . But this withal we must here observe , that it is Example which chiefly works these Effects ; for a virtuous Administration is seldom but accompanied with Virtue in the Magistrate . Nor is it so much the reward it self , or the punishment which dos this , as the natural estimation of Virtue , and shame of Villany which is excited and mov'd by these expressions of the hatred of Mankind towards injustice , and their approbation of Goodness and Virtue . For even in the suffering of the greatest Villains themselves , we see generally that the infamy of their Act , the odiousness of their Crime , and their shame towards Mankind , contribute more to their misery than all besides ; and that it is not so much Death it self which creates their horror , as that kind of Death they undergo . IT is the same in privat Families : and here tho the Slaves and mercenary Servants , restrain'd and made orderly by punishment , and by the severity of their Master , are not on that account made Good or Honest ; yet the same master of the Family using proper Rewards and Punishments towards his Children , teaches them Goodness , and by this help instructs them in a Virtue which afterwards they practise upon other grounds , and without thoughts of reward . IF by the thoughts of future Reward , or what regards another State , be understood the love and desire of virtuous Enjoyment , or of the very practice and exercise of Virtue in another Life ; the expectation or hope of this , must not only be a great encouragement to Virtue ; but it appears plainly , that the very following of Virtue in hope to obtain that supreme Happiness which consists in the perfection of it , is of it self a degree of Virtue , a proof of the sincere Love we have for it , as for its own sake ; and cannot be call'd a motive of self-interest or selfishness : for if the love of Virtue be any thing distinct from that which we mean by common and narrow self-interest , then the love and desire of Life ( when lov'd and desir'd for the sake of Virtue alone ) must also be distinct . But if the desire of continu'd or prolong'd Life , be only through the violence of that aversion which is towards Death ; if it be through the love and desire of something else in Life , than virtuous Affection and Practice , and through the unwillingness of parting with something else than what is purely of this kind ; then is this no longer any Virtue , or sign of Virtue . WHOEVER therefore ( from what has bin said before ) is after any manner , or in any way at all perswaded or induc'd to think that Honesty and Virtue have their Rewards ; such a one is capable of being led to a Virtue which he already is not arriv'd at ; tho yet his doing any thing on the consideration or foresight merely of such Reward separate from Virtue and of another nature , is no Virtue ; nor even that thing of setting about to make himself virtuous on that score , can be any Virtue . For tho he may intend to be virtuous , he is not become so , for having only intended , or for only intending to be so , because of the rewards of Virtue : but as soon as he is come to have one single good Affection , any Affection towards what is good and worthy , sociable , human , or any way morally good , as liking and affecting this for its own sake , and as good and amiable in it self ; then is he in some degree Good and Virtuous , and not till then . UPON the whole therefore , one who has not any Reason or Belief to hinder him from thinking that Virtue is the cause of Misery , and is of self-ill , such a one must be subject to lose much of his Virtue and good Disposition . And one who has a contrary Reason and Belief , which makes him think Virtue to be his Good , or a cause of good to him , has an inducement to Virtue , and an assistance in it which the other has not . WHOEVER thinks always consistently , or according to one fix'd or settled Judgment , that Virtue causes Happiness , and Vice Misery ; or whoever there is , who , as they say commonly , feels by himself , that he can never be happy , if he quits his Integrity and Innocency ; either of these Persons carry with them that requisit security , and that assistance to Virtue abovemention'd . Or if there are such who have not such thoughts , nor can believe that Virtue is their interest in Life , except they are otherwise rewarded ; yet if they believe a God dispensing Rewards and Punishments in this present , or in a future State , to Virtue and Vice , they carry also this security and assistance to Virtue along with them ; whilst their Belief continues thus , and is not in the least either wavering or doubtful . For it must be observ'd here , that whensoever the dependence upon this is exceeding great , it very much takes off from any other dependence or encouragement ; for , where high Rewards are inforc'd , and the imagination strongly turn'd towards them , the other natural Motives to Goodness are apt to lose much of their force , whilst the Mind is thus transported and taken up in the contemplation and pursuit of a highly elevated Self-interest , and in a concernment of such infinit importance to our selves in particular , that on this account , all other Affections towards Friends , Relations , or Mankind ( mere worldly objects ) are slightly look'd upon ; the interest of our Soul being so far superior . And we know this by experience , that the Persons who are the most highly Devout , are , from the contemplation of the high enjoyments of another State , accustom'd to undervalue all other earthly advantages of Goodness ; and in the same religious Zeal are often carri'd to decry all other natural benefits of Virtue : so as to declare , that except only for the sake of that supreme Reward , they would devest themselves of all Goodness at once , and should think it their greatest advantage to be vitious . So that there may be nothing more fatal to Virtue , than the weak and uncertain belief of a future Reward and Punishment ; for , having laid the stress wholly here , if this come to fail , or loosly to waver , it must prove a betraying of Virtue , and must prove , if not the ruin , at least of mighty prejudice to mens Morals . BUT to return to our Argument ; the belief of a God therefore may supply that defect in the Thought or Opinion concerning the want of Happiness in Virtue , which Atheism has no remedy for . Altho it be not otherwise imply'd , but that without an absolute and clear assent to that Hypothesis of full and compleat Theism ; the other Opinion , or the other Thoughts as to the Happiness of a man with good Affections , and the Misery of a man with contrary ones , may possibly be establish'd in the Mind ; and so Virtue be esteem'd good , or the means of Good ; and Vice always the contrary . Tho yet the natural tendency of Atheism be very different ; since besides the unaptness and disproportion of such a belief as that of Atheism , to the apprehension or imagination of any thing in such just order , and according to so admirable a disposition as that would be , were Virtue always the Good , and Vice the Ill of every Creature : it must be besides confess'd too , that there is a great deal wanting in this Belief towards the promotion of that particular good Affection of love to Virtue ; which Love however when at its height , and when forcibly felt , is the chiefest thing that can make the happiness of Virtue to be well credited : for it is almost impossible constantly and firmly to retain this opinion of the great Happiness arising from Virtue it self , without conceiving high thoughts and estimation of the Pleasure and Delight resulting from the very love of Virtue ; from the contemplation of what is worthy in it self , as well as from the mere conveniences of a virtuous Life : which sort of Pleasure and Delight is likely to gain but little opinion or credit where it is not highly experienc'd . The chief ground and support , therefore , of this Opinion , of the constant Happiness of Virtue , must be from the powerful feeling of this Affection , and the knowledg of its Power and Strength . But this is certain , that there must be but little encouragement or support of any such Affection as this , or of liking and affecting any thing as in it self good and beautiful , where there is neither goodness nor beauty allowed in the WHOLE it self ; nor any perfect or wise direction for the good of any thing , nor any good Affection of a supreme Mind or Will towards the good of all in general , nor any consciousness in such an all-knowing and perfect Mind , of the Virtue and good Affection of particulars . This must tend rather to the cutting off of all love , veneration or esteem of any thing decent , just or orderly in the Universe , to the weaning of the Affections from any thing amiable or self-worthy , and to the suppressing even of that very Habit and Custom of contemplating with satisfaction and delight the beauties that are in Nature , and whatever in the order of things is according to a harmony and proportion the most resulting to sense . For how little dispos'd must such a Person be , either to love or admire any thing as orderly and comly in the Universe , who thinks that the Universe it self is nothing but disorder ? how unapt to reverence or respect any particular or subordinat Beauty ( such as is part of the structure ) when the WHOLE it self is thought to want perfection , and to be only a vast and infinit deformity ? AND when we consider further concerning such an opinion of the WHOLE as this is , and the thoughts of living in such a distracted Universe , from which so many ills may be suspected , and in which there is nothing good , nothing lovely to be contemplated , or that can raise any affection towards it other than that of Hatred and Aversion ; it will seem hardly possible for us to think otherwise of such an Opinion as this , than that it must by degrees imbitter the Temper , and not only make the love of Virtue to be less felt , but help to impair and ruin natural Affection and Kindness . So that as there is nothing so exalting to Virtue , or so hightning to the pleasure deriv'd from it , as a pure and perfect Theism ; so on the other side a perfect Atheism is that which must tend exceedingly to destroy all ground of delight in Virtue , and even that very Principle it self of all Virtue , viz. natural and good Affection . BUT now on the other side ; neither is it impli'd that every one whosoever that believes a God , believes to this effect , and with this advantage to Virtue ; or that whoever believes both a God , and Rewards and Punishments dispens'd either in this present , or in some future State , believes to this effect . For if he believes that these Rewards and Punishments are tied to , or follow something else than good or ill Affections ( as they do , who believe Rewards for simple actions or performances irrational , and without account ; or who believe such Rewards and Punishments as are tied to things casual and accidental , as the being born in such a place , or of such Parents ) then may the Affections grow ill and vitious without hindrance , or rather with help , as has bin shewn ; because of the suppos'd want of Rectitude in the ador'd sovereign Being . WHOEVER therefore has a firm belief of a God whom he dos not merely call Good , but of whom in reality he believes nothing but what is good , and is really sutable to the exactest character of Justice ; such a Person believing Rewards and Punishments in another Life , must believe them Rewards and Punishments of Virtue and Vice merely , and not of any other Qualities or Accidents , which make them either Rewards for ill , or for nothing ; and therefore not properly Rewards , but capricious distributions of Happiness or Vnhappiness to Creatures . And such a Person as this has the advantage spoken of , and can grow to be , or can keep himself virtuous where an Atheist cannot ; in case there be a failure , as abovemention'd , in the thoughts or opinion as to the happiness of Virtue in it self , and that it come to be believ'd the contrary way , that Virtue is an enemy to Happiness , with respect to this Life merely : which that it is so in the main , is an opinion that only an Atheist or imperfect Theist can have . For whatever be decided as to that of any Life after the present one , and of Rewards and Punishments to come , he who is a perfect Theist , and who believes an eternal universal Mind , reigning sovereignly and through all things , and with the highest perfection of Goodness , as well as Wisdom and Power , cannot but believe that Virtue is made the good or advantage of every Creature capable of having Virtue . For what could be more an unjust Ordinance and Rule , or be imagin'd more a defective Universe and ill constitution of things , than if Virtue were naturally made the ill , and Vice the good of every Creature ? THUS therefore there is an advantage to Virtue necessarily suppos'd in perfect Theism , which is not in the Atheistical Belief : on the contrary it is , tho not wholly impossible , yet very rare and difficult , that through all the ill Chances to which a virtuous man may be expos'd , the certain remembrance and belief that Virtue is the best or only means of Happiness , or the consciousness of his not being able to recede from it , without falling into greater Misery , and a more deplorable State , should be able to keep it self a firm principle in his Mind , if he be one who has no opinion at all of any wisdom or order in the Government of the Universe ; no example above himself of any Goodness or good Affection , and whose natural reflections on this Subject cannot well be other than melancholy and disgustful . Now , if there be wanting in a Mind that which can more kindly dispose the Temper , and is able to raise the Affection to a greater admiration and love of Virtue ; then is there much wanting of what should make the happiness of Virtue credited ; since nothing is more assistant to this Belief than the full experience of those better and kinder Affections , and of that satisfaction enjoy'd in the love of Virtue it self . AND now in the last place , there is yet greater advantage to Virtue , in that opinion of perfect and compleat Theism , which we will endeavor to explain ; tho the matter it self be of that kind which is nicely Philosophical , and may be thought , perhaps , to be so overmuch . There is no Creature , according to what has bin prov'd above , but must be ill in some degree , by having any Affection towards , or against any thing in a stronger degree than such as is sutable to his own privat good , and that of the System he is join'd to : for , in this case the Affection is an ill Affection . Now if a rational Creature has that degree of aversion which is requisit against any particular ill ( as suppose that Ill of being overcome , banish'd , or ruin'd in Fortune ) this is regular and well . But if after the ill happen'd , his passion of aversion proves such , that he still rages at the accident , and is in continual abhorrence towards his fortune or lot ; then will this be acknowledg'd vitious in it self , and further prejudicial to Temper , and to all Virtue : as on the other side , the patient endurance of the Calamity , and the support of the Mind under it , must be acknowledg'd virtuous and preservative of Virtue . Now altho that which Atoms and Chance produce ( supposing no other Principle besides ) need not give occasion to that excess of abhorrency , violent Rage and Anger , which is what a tolerably rational man may allay by considering , that what is done is neither meant nor design'd , but is from Atoms and Chance only ; yet if there be nothing at the bottom , nor any Rule or Reason besides Chance and Atoms , there can be no satisfaction at all in thinking upon what they alone produce : for if the thing seems ill , and be ill felt , it cannot be admitted in that Hypothesis , ( or in the Atheistical one whatever it be ) that this Ill is a real good elsewhere , and with respect to the whole of things , as being according to the wisest and best design that is conceivable . Now that which is thought ill , and altogether unaccountable and without reason , cannot but raise some degree of Aversion towards it . But in another Hypothesis ( that of perfect Theism ) the affirmative of this , that whatever happens is good , must necessarily ( as has bin prov'd ) be the Belief . Therefore in the course of things in this world , whatsoever Ill occurring would seem to force from a rational Creature a censure and dislike , or whatsoever may happen to be his privat Lot ; he may not only acquiesce in it , and have patience , which is but an abatement of the natural anger and dissatisfaction , but he may make the Lot or Part assign'd to him , an object of his good Affection in some sort , as having a good and kind Affection in general towards all that is produc'd in the Universe , as coming from the most perfect Wisdom , and being perfectly Good : which Affection , since it must in a much greater degree cause a good support of whatever is endured for Virtue , or in any state of sufferance ; and since it must cause a greater acquiescence and complacency with respect to ill accidents , ill men and injuries ( and consequently a greater equality , meekness and benignity in the Temper ) ; so it must of necessity be a good Affection , and the Creature that has it , so much the more a virtuous and good Creature : for whatsoever is the occasion or means of more affectionatly joining or uniting a rational Creature to his PART in Society , and causes him to prosecute the public good or good of the System he is join'd to , beyond what he would otherwise do , is undoubtedly the occasion or cause of greater Virtue in him . Now if the subject of such an Affection be not just or deserving , if no such Hypothesis is to be admitted as that of perfect Theism ( so that there is real Ill continually produc'd in the course of things in the Universe , and no good intelligent and powerful Principle able to exclude such ILL ) yet notwithstanding this , the Affection towards this false subject ( if it be to be suppos'd false ) must be so far good , as that the having of it will be the occasion of greater strengthning and forwarding of Virtue , as has bin shewn . But if the subject be just ; that is to say , if every thing which the Universe produces be according to all reason the wisest and best of what could be imagin'd , and be therefore the most worthy of admiration , applause , and all good Affection of rational Creatures , as coming from a most perfect , wise and good Principle ; then dos such an Affection become due and requisit in every rational Creature , so as that it must be vitious to want it . On which it may be grounded , that the relation which Virtue has to Piety is such , as that the FIRST is not compleat but in the LATTER : and that where this latter is wanting , there cannot be the same benignity , perseverance , the same good composure of the Affections , nor so good a Mind . TO conclude then : Having consider'd how any Opinion about the Existence of a God can have influence on the Manners of men , and cause either Virtue or Vice ; if the reasons we have offered be found to be of any weight , it will appear in resolution of the question which has bin treated of : That one who has not the Opinion or Belief of an intelligent Principle or God , may , tho very difficultly , and at a great hazard , be capable of Virtue , so as to have an Honesty , a Faith , a Justice perhaps of great note and worth ; may have many generous and good Passions , and possibly that of love to Virtue for its own sake , as well as for being believ'd advantageous : but that in the other Belief , there are not only greater securities and advantages to Virtue , but there is besides a degree of Virtue which the Opinion contrary to it cannot admit . So that the chiefest security , the perfection and the highest degree of Virtue , must be owing to the belief of a God. BOOK the Second . OF THE OBLIGATIONS TO VIRTUE . SECT . I. WE have already consider'd WHAT VIRTUE IS , who may be allow'd in any degree virtuous . It remains now to shew , WHAT OBLIGATION THERE IS TO VIRTUE , and how any one may have reason to imbrace Virtue , and shun Vice. WE have seen that to be virtuous and good , is for a rational Creature in the use of good Understanding and Judgment , to have all his natural Affections ▪ or better Passions , his dispositions of Mind and Temper sutable and agreeing with the good of his Kind , or of that System ( as explain'd before ) where he is included , and of which he is a PART . So that to have all these Affections right and intire , by which we are kindly and naturally join'd to our PART in Society ; this is nam'd Rectitude , Integrity : and to want any of these , or to have their contraries , such as alienate from hence , is Depravity , Corruption , Nature vitiated . THAT in the Passions and Affections of particular Creatures there is a relation to the interest of a Species or common Nature ( as that there is an Affection towards the propagation of the kind , towards the nurture of the young , towards mutual Support and Succor ) this is not deniable , neither will it be denied ; therefore , that such an Affection as this of a Creature towards the good of that common Nature , is as proper an Affection , and as natural to him , as to any member of a Body to work in its own way , as to a Stomach to digest , as to other Intrails to perform their other offices , or as to any other Part in an animal Body to be so affected , and to operate so as is appointed to it in its System . IT is certain also , that a Creature having such Affections as these towards the common Nature , or System of the Kind , at the same time that he has those other Affections toward the privat Nature or Self-system , ( as in the case of self-preservation , self-support and maintenance ) it must happen that in following the first of these Affections , the Creature must often contradict and go against these latter ; as in the instance so often before us'd , where the love to the young makes every other Affection towards privat good give way , and causes a total neglect of self-interest or concernment ▪ IT may seem therefore in this place , that there is a perfect opposition between these two ; as if the pursuing or being carried towards the common Interest or Good , by such Affections as are suted to that common Interest , were a hinderance to the attainment of privat Good , as being a hinderance and check to those Passions which aim thither . And it being found that hazards and hardships make but ill for the animal State , in the privat System ; these other Affections towards another Good ( that of the Kind , or public System ) being such as do often expose to hardships and hazards , by overruling their opposites , the self-preservative passions , and by necessitating the Creature thus to self-denial , and , as it were , self-desertion ; it may be concluded , perhaps , from hence , that it is best for the Animal to be without any such Affections at all . So that that Love which joins us to others of the same Kind ; that reconciling Affection towards a Species or fellowship of Creatures with whom we are bred , and live ; that social Kindness , or whatever else , be it what Affection soever that goes against that other Principle , takes the place of the self-interesting Passions , and draws us as it were out of our selves , so as to make us disregardful of our own convenience and safety ; whatever is of this kind should be abolish'd ; love to the young , tenderness and pity abolished ; in short , all natural Affections should thus be extinguish'd and rooted out , as dangerous , tormenting and destructive . ACCORDING to this it would seem to follow , that in the constitution of that Order or System of a Kind or Species , the PART is ill affected , and in an ill state as to it self , which is naturally and well affected towards the WHOLE : and the only natural and good state of the privat nature or single PART , as to it self , is to be in an unnatural and ill state towards the common Nature or WHOLE . A strange Constitution indeed ! in which it must be confess'd that there is much disorder and untowardness ; but which in Nature is no where observ'd besides : that in a System , as in a Tree or animal Body , any Part or Member should be in a good and prosperous state as to it self , which was under a contrary Affection , and in an unnatural operation as to its Whole . THAT this is otherwise , I shall endeavor to demonstrate , so as to make it appear , that what seems thus to be an ill Order and Constitution in the Universe , ( and which , if true , would necessarily make natural rectitude the Ill , and depravity the Good of every Creature ) is in reality according to a wise and excellent Order in the Universe ; insomuch that for every particular in its System , to work to the good of that System or Public , and to its own good , is all one , and not to be divided . By which means natural Rectitude or Virtue must be the advantage , and Vice the injury and disadvantage of every Creature . IT has bin shewn before , that no Animal can , as an Animal , be said to act in any manner but through Affections or Passions , such as are proper to an Animal : for in convulsive fits ▪ where a Creature strikes either himself or others , it is a simple Mechanism , an Engine , or piece of Clock-work that acts , and not the Animal . WHATSOEVER therefore is done or acted by any Animal as such , is done and can be done only through some Affection or Passion , as of Fear , Love or Hatred , moving him . AND as it is impossible that the weakest Affections should overcome the strongest ( as that a lesser love should overcome a greater love , a lesser fear a greater fear ) so it is impossible but that where the Affections or Passions are strongest , or where they make the strongest side , either by their number or force , thither the Animal must incline , and by that be govern'd and led to action . THE Affections or Passions which must influence and govern the Animal are either , 1. THE natural ones towards the Kind , or which carry to the good of something beyond the privat System . 2. OR the self-ones , which carry to the good of the privat System , as towards self-preservation , self-nourishment or support , self-defence , or repelling of Injury . 3. OR such as are neither of these , and neither tend to any good of the public or privat System . And it is through these several Affections or Motions that a Creature must be Good or Ill , Virtuous or Vitious . But , before we come to speak of these separatly , it may be convenient to premise some few things in general , in order to clear some matters which may create a doubt and disturbance . WHEN in a rational Creature , any thing is done with real and full intention towards public Good , and with that just and excellent natural Affection which leads towards the good of Society ; if there be any failure in the Judgment , which notwithstanding guides and directs amiss ; how far this may be vitious , has bin before mention'd , so as not to need any thing farther in this place , nor is this worth insisting on : it having little to do with the essential part of Vice , and that which is with most reason complain'd of in the world , as creating those disorders we see . For where there is in a rational Creature an inclination and strong affection towards Virtue , superior to all other Affections , prevalent over all Obstructions , and freed from the ill influence of any unnatural Passions , such as those raised from Superstition , and horrid Custom before spoken of ; there is little fear of failure through wrong choice or preference in moral actions , or through want of a right knowledg of Duty when rightly and sincerely sought : but if notwithstanding such a search , it be however miss'd in any small degree , the misfortune or self-injury is , as the Vice it self , very slight and of little moment . THE natural Affections separatly consider'd , as either Pity or Compassion , love to the young , and such like , however excellent they are , they may notwithstanding be in a too great , and therefore vitious degree : as when Pity is so overcoming as to destroy its own end , and prevent the succor and relief requir'd ; or as when love to the young is such a fondness as disables from rightly taking care of the young , or such as destroys the Parent , and consequently the young too . And tho it seems harsh to call that vitious which is but an extreme of some natural and kind Affection ; yet the thing being rightly consider'd , it is apparent , that wherever any single Affection of that kind is over great , it must be worst for the rest , and take off from their operation : for a Creature possest with such an immoderat and excessive Passion , must of necessity allow too much to that Passion , and too little to others of the same note or character , and equally natural and excellent as to their end ; so as that this must be the occasion of partiality and injustice , whilst only one duty or natural PART is earnestly follow'd , and other duties neglected , which should accompany , or perhaps take place and be prefer'd . NOW as natural Affection of this sort may be too high , so may the Affection towards the privat System , or SELF , be too weak . For if a Creature were self-negligent ▪ insensible to danger , or wanted such a degree of Passion in any kind , as was necessary to preserve , sustain , or defend it self , this would be a vice or imperfection in the natural temper , with respect to the privat System , and the design of Nature in the animal Constitution ; in the same manner as it would be a vice or imperfection in that single part an Eye not to shut of its own accord and unknowingly to us , by a natural caution and timidity ; which , were it , wanting , however we might design the preservation of our Eye , we should not preserve it by any observation or steady intention of our own ever so good towards the preserving it . And thus tho the Passions of this kind do not immediatly regard , nor have for their object the good of the Kind , but a self-good ; and altho no Creature be ( according to the common way of speaking ) called good and virtuous for having any of these : yet since it is impossible that the public Good , or Good of the System , can be preserved without these ; or that it should be well with the Particulars , if these were wanting , which are for the good of the PARTS , and of the Whole together ; it follows that a Creature wanting any of these , and being wanting to it self and to the Whole , is in reality wanting in some degree to Goodness and natural Rectitude ; and may thus be said to be defective or vicious , tho this be not what is commonly call'd so . 'T IS thus that we say of a Creature that he is too good ; when he either has his affection of any sort towards the Kind so violent , as to carry him even beyond his Part ; or that it happens that he is really carried beyond his Part , not by a too highly kindled passion of that sort , but through want of some self-passion to restrain him in some bounds . IT may be objected here , That this of having the natural Affections too strong , ( where the self ones are overmuch so ) or of having the self ones thus defective or weak ( where the natural ones are weak ) may often prove upon occasion the only reason of a Creature 's acting honestly and well . For , thus possibly , a Creature insensible to some self-interesting passion ( as suppose he were altogether indifferent to life ) may even with the smallest degree of some one natural Affection , do what the highest Affection of that kind should or can perform : and thus a Creature excessively timorous may by as exceeding a degree of some one natural Affection , do that which requires the perfectest Courage to perform . TO this I answer ; That when we say of any Passion that it is too strong , or that it is too weak , we must speak with respect to a certain Constitution or Oeconomy of a particular Creature , or Species of Creatures . For if a Passion carrying to any right end , be only so much the more serviceable and effectual , for being strong ; if the violence of it be no way the cause of any disturbance or distraction within , or of any disproportionableness between it self and other Affections ; then consequently the Passion , however strong and forcible , cannot be blam'd as vitious . But if to have all the Passions in equal proportion with it , be what the constitution of the Creature cannot bear or support ; so that one or more Passions are perhaps rais'd to this height , but that the others are not , nor can be in the same proportion ; then is it to be said of those more than ordinary forcible Passions , that they are excessive : for , notwithstanding that they may be such as the Creature can well bear , that they agree with his frame and constitution , and that they are no ways an obstruction to their own end ; yet these Passions being in unequal proportion to the others , and causing an ill balance in the Affection , must be the occasion of inequality in the Conduct , and must incline to a wrong moral practice . BUT to explain a little further this of the Oeconomy of the Passions , by what we may observe in other Species or Kinds . As to those Creatures that have no manner of power or means given them by nature for their defence against Violence , nor any thing by which they can make themselves terrible to such as injure or offend them ; it is necessary that they should have very great and extraordinary Fear , but little or no Animosity or Passion , such as should cause them to make resistance , or should delay their flight , which is their only sasety , and to which the passion of Fear is useful and of help . It is thus that Timorousness , and an habitual and strong passion of Fear may be according to the Oeconomy of a particular Creature , both with respect to himself and his Species : and that on the other side , Courage may be vitious . Even in one and the same Species this is by Nature differently order'd , with respect to different Sexes , Ages , Growths . At a time when the whole Herd flies , the Bull alone makes head against the Lion , or whatever other invading Beast , and shews himself conscious of his part ; for so nature has made him to be : and should he lose this generous Passion and Animosity , he would be degenerate . Even the Female of this Kind is , we see , arm'd by nature in some degree to resist Violence , so as not to fly a common danger . As for a Hind , a Doe , or any other inoffending and defenceless Creature ; it is no way unnatural or vitious in such a one to desert the young and fly for safety : for to do otherwise would be contrary to the Oeconomy of the Creature and Species . But for those Creatures that are able to make resistance , and are by nature arm'd ( as those Savages of the Wood ) with that which can mortally offend ; it is natural in one of these to be rouz'd with fury , and to oppose it self to death against its Enemy or Invader ; by which known passion in the Creature its Species is secur'd : since such a one can hardly on this account be assaulted , or injur'd with impunity , and that a Creature , such as this , sells his own and offspring's Life at so dear a rate . To do less therefore than this , is in such a one unnatural and degenerate , and is a betraying of his Species . And of all other Creatures Man is in this sense the most terrible : since if he thinks it just and exemplary , he may in his own , or in his Countrys cause , revenge an injury on any one living ; and by throwing away his own life ( if resolute to that degree ) is almost certain Master of another's , tho ever so strongly guarded : of which several examples given , have served to deter those in power , and restrain them from using the utmost outrages , and urging men to extremity . BUT to come to what was said : No Passion therefore , which carries to a right end , and which is such as a Creature in his constitution can bear , without the desorder or sufferance of his Body or Mind , and which is no other than proportionable with respect to other Passions , such as are suted likewise to the Oeconomy of the Creature , and of the Species in which he is included ; no Passion such as this can be too strong or too forcible a Passion . But whatever Passion ( tho of the sort of those we call the natural Affections , or Affections towards the kind ) is overstrong in proportion to any other Affection , this is immoderate Passion , and in too high a degree . And in answer therefore to the Objection made : tho it be true that this of having a self-passion too weak , or a natural affection too strong , may occasion Virtue in one place , and cause one virtuous action ; yet , with respect to the whole of Life , it is what must create confusion and disorder , and must occasion too ( as has bin shewn before ) partiality and injustice . BUT , to express this all at once , under an easy and very familiar Comparison . It is the same with the Passions in an animal Constitution , as with the Cords or Strings of a musical Instrument . If these , tho in ever so just proportion one to another , are strained however beyond a certain degree , it is more than the Instrument will bear ; and by this the Instrument is abused , and its effect lost : On the other side , if while some of the Cords are duly strained , others are not wound up to their due proportion ; then is the Instrument still in disorder , and its part ill performed . The several Species of Creatures are as different sorts of Instruments : And even in the same Species of Creatures ( as in the same sort of Instrument ) one is not intirely like the other ; nor will the same Cords fit each : the same degree of strength which winds up the Cords of one , and fits them to a Harmony and Consort , may in another burst both the Cords and Instrument it self . Thus men who have the liveliest and exquisitest sense , and who are in the highest degree affected with Pleasure or Pain , have need of the strongest ground and foundation of other Passion , as that of natural Affection , sensibleness to Friendship , Love , Pity , and the like , in order to keep a right Balance within , and to preserve them in their duty , and the performance of their part ; whilst others , who are more flegmatic , heavier , and of a lower Key , need not , nor are made for the feeling those other Passions in altogether so high a degree . IT would be agreeable enough to inquire thus into the different tunings ( if one may speak so ) the different structures and proportions of different men , with respect to their passions , and the various mixtures , temperatures and allays , which make that which we call Temper , according to which the goodness and worth of any Creature is esteemed . But here we should have too large a Field : Tho however we may , in passing by , observe , that whilst we see in all other Creatures around us so great a proportionableness , constancy and regularity in all their passions and affections ; so great a harmony , and such an adherence to Nature ; no failure in the care of the Offspring , or of the Society ( if living in Society ) ; no prostitution of themselves , nor no excess in any kind ; whilst we see those Creatures who live as it were in Cities ( as Bees and Ants ) never to go out of that constant Train and Harmony , nor contradict those Affections which carry them on to operate to the public Good , the Good of their WHOLE ; and that even those Beasts that live the farthest out of Society of that sort , maintain however a conduct one towards another , such as is exactly well fitted for the good of their own Species ; Man in the mean time , vicious and unconsonant man , lives out of all rule and proportion , contradicts his Principles , breaks the Order and Oeconomy of all his Passions , and lives at odds with his whole Species , and with Nature : so that it is next to a Prodigy to see a Man in the world who lives NATURALLY , and as A MAN. THUS having clear'd this Part , and having explain'd what is meant by having any passion in too high or too low a degree ; and how that to have any natural Affection too high , or any self Affection too low , is ( tho not so called ) a Vice and moral Imperfection , and is prejudicial both to the privat and public System ; we come now to that which is the chiefest and most considerable part of Vice , that which alone is call'd Vice and Illness . THE several senses in which a Creature may be said to be ill or vitious , are , first , when the Affections are all orderly and right ; but that through want of judgment , any error is committed in the choice of moral Objects . Of this there is no need to speak more than we have done . All other Vice or Illness besides , must be through the immediat disorder of the Affections themselves ; as when the natural Affections are too strong , or the self Affections too weak : Tho nothing of this hitherto be what we ordinarily call Illness or Vice. That which remains of any way or sense , in which a Creature may be ill , or can possibly act ill , is either through the want of natural and good Affections , and the having no such thing at all to move him , or that is sufficient to move him ; or , through contrary Passions or Affections moving him to what is wrong , and overcoming those others , whensoever there are any of those to make opposition . THAT is to say , either by having the natural Affections weak or deficient : or by having the self Passions too strong : or by having such as are neither natural Affections , nor self ones ; and of which the smallest and moderatest degree is not tending to the support or welfare of either the Species or privat System . OTHER WISE than thus it is impossible any Creature can be ill or vitious . And if it may be proved that it is the interest of the Creature to have his Passions or Affections never thus , but contrariwise ; it will then be proved , that it is the interest of a Creature to be , and keep in that state in which he cannot but be good or virtuous : so that Virtue , then , can never be but his Good , and the contrary his Ill. OUR business therefore will be to prove , 1. THAT to have those excellent Affections ( the kind and natural ones , such as have bin mentioned ) is to have the chief enjoyment of Life ; and that to want them , is , and must be , besides the loss of that Good , the occasion of farther and greater Ill. 2. THAT to have the self Passions excessive or beyond such a degree in which they cannot but of necessity yield , as is fitting , to the natural ones , whenever they meet or are opposed to each other , is also injurious to the Creature , and is of self-ill . 3. AND that to have the other sort of Passions , those which are neither natural Affections towards the kind , nor self ones , of which the least degree is essential or requisit in the Constitution or Oeconomy of the Creature , is prejudicial to the Creature . SECT . II. THERE are few , who when they think of such a Creature as is void of all natural Affection , all social Inclination , Friendliness , Complacency or Love , but think of it as in a condition miserable enough as to it self , without regard to the ill terms upon which such a Creature must live with those that are his fellow Creatures : 'T is generally thought , I believe , that such a Creature as this feels but a little part of the satisfaction of Life , and relishes but little those few Enjoyments which are left with him , those of eating , drinking , and the like ; when those others of sociableness , kindness and love , are substracted . It is well known , that to such a Creature as this , it is not only incident , to be morose , rancorous and malignant ; but that of necessity a Mind or Temper thus destitue of all mildness and benignity , of all kind and indulgent inclination , sense or feeling , must turn to that which is contrary , must be agitated and wrought by Passions of a different kind , and be a continual seat and lodgment of those bitter , hateful and perverse ones , made from a constant ill humor , frowardness , and disquiet , in an uncalm , unaffable , and unloving Temper ; and that the consciousness of such a Mind or Nature , thus dissociable , obnoxious , and averse to all humanity , hating and hated of Mankind , must overcloud the Mind with dark suspicion and continual jealousy , alarm it with fears and horror , and raise in it a continual disturbance and disease , in the most appearing fair and secure state of Fortune , and in the highest outward Prosperity . THIS , as to the perfect immoral or inhuman state , is generally notic'd : and where there is this absolute degeneracy , and a total deprivation of all humanity , love , or natural affection , there are few who do not see and acknowledge the misery of such a State , when at worst as here suppos'd . The misfortune is , that this escapes us , and is not perceiv'd in less degrees : as if to be fully and perfectly horrid , unsociable and inhuman , were indeed the greatest misfortune and misery that could be ; but that to be it in a little degree should be no misery nor harm at all : which is as reasonable as it would be , to allow that it is the greatest ill of a Body to be in the utmost manner distorted , maim'd , and in an absolute disuse or perversion of all its Organs ; but that to lose the use of one Limb , or to be impair'd in some one single Member , is no inconvenience or ill at all . THE parts and proportions of the Mind , their relation to , and dependency on one another , the connexion and frame of those Passions which constitute the Soul or Temper ; in short , the whole Order or Symmetry of this inward Part being no less real and exact than that of the Body , yet by not being obvious to sense as that other is , it comes not into consideration . So that tho the greatest misery and ill is allow'd to be from the Mind or Temper , which it is own'd may suffer by abuse and injury , as the Body dos ; yet it is not known by what means this former suffers , how it receives abuse or injury , or at what rate and in what degrees it comes to be impair'd ; it is not known nor though of , what it is that should maim or offend any particular part ; or how it should happen to a Temper or Mind , that ▪ being wounded or hurt in any one particular part , the whole should be the worse for it . On the contrary , we think that a man may violate his Faith , commit any wickedness unfamiliar to him before , engage in any Vice or Villany by which a breach is made on good Affection , to the furtherance and promotion of what is contrariwise malignant , horrid and enormous , and all this without the least prejudice to himself , or any misery following from the ill action merely . 'T is thus that it is often said , such a one has done ill ; but what is he the worse for it ? And yet we say of any nature savage , curst , and throughly inveterate , that such a one is a plague and torment to himself . And we allow that by certain Passions , and merely by Temper alone , a man may be fully miserable , let his circumstances , as to other respects , be what they will. NOW did it appear that this fabric of the Mind were such , that it was impossible to remove from thence , or out of the natural Temper , any one good or orderly Affection , or introduce any ill or disorderly one , without danger of ruin and fatal destruction , without drawing on in some degree that horrid and detestable state , and making in part that havock and confusion , which at its height , or but in some particular occasion , is observ'd and justly confess'd to be so miserable ; were this made appear from the oeconomy of the Mind , or of those Passions which constitute the natural Temper or Soul , it would then be confess'd , that since no ill , immoral , impious , or unjust action could be committed , without a violence committed here , without either a new inroad and breach on the Temper and Passions , or a farther advancing of that execution already begun ; whoever did ill , or acted in prejudice of his Virtue , Integrity , good Nature , or Worth , acted in the same manner towards himself , but with less mercy , than he who with his own hands should wound or any way destroy or ruin his own Body . I. BUT to begin now in the first place with this proof , THAT TO HAVE THE NATURAL AFFECTIONS ( such as are founded in Love , Complacency , Goodwill , and in a sympathy with the Kind or Species ) IS TO HAVE THE CHIEF ENJOYMENT OF LIFE ; and THAT TO WANT THE SAME AFFECTIONS IS TO BE ON THE OTHER HAND AS MISERABLE . We may consider , first , what those are which we call Pleasures or Satisfactions , from whence Happiness is reckon'd and esteem'd . They are satisfactions or pleasures ( according to the common distinction ) either of the Body , or of the Mind . THAT the pleasures of the Mind are greater than those of the Body , is allow'd by most people , and may be prov'd by this ; that whensoever the Mind having a high opinion or feeling of some excellence ( be it in what subject it will , either where worth or excellence is , or is not ) has receiv'd the strongest impression , and is wrought up to the highest pitch or degree of Passion towards the Subject ; at such time it sets it self above all bodily pain , contemns Torture and Racks : for thus we see Indians , Barbarians , Malefactors , and the very horridst and most execrable Villains in the world , oftimes , for the sake of a particular Gang or Society , or out of some cherish'd notion or principle of Honor , of Revenge , of Gratitude , or something of that kind with which they are taken , embrace any manner of Hardship , and defy Torments and Death . Whereas on the other hand , a man being plac'd in all circumstances of outward enjoyments , surrounded with every thing that can allure or charm the Sense , and being then actually in the very moment of such an indulgence ; yet no sooner is there any thing amiss within , no sooner has he conceiv'd any internal ail or disorder , any thing inwardly vexatious or distemper'd , but instantly his enjoyment ceases , the pleasure of sense is at an end ; and every thing that is a means of that sort becomes ineffectual , and is plainly rejected as uneasy , and giving distast when offer'd . THE pleasures of the Mind being allow'd , therefore , superior to those of the Body , it follows , that whatever can create to any intelligent Being a constant flowing , a series or train of mental Enjoyments , is more considerable to his Happiness , than that which can create to him the same constant course or train of sensual ones of the Body . THE mental Enjoyments in a great measure are actually the very natural Affections themselves , in their immediat operation . OR , they proceed from , and are caused by natural and good Affections . HOW much the natural Affections themselves are really Pleasures and Enjoyments , cannot but be own'd by any one who knows the condition and feeling of the Mind under a lively and forcible affection of Kindness , Love , Gratitude , Bounty , Succor , or whatever else is of a generous , sociable , or friendly kind ; and who is sensible of what pleasure the Mind perceives when it is imploy'd in acts of that nature , and is touch'd and mov'd in that sort . The difference we find between a Solitude and Company ; between a common Company , and the Company or merely the sight of those we love ; the reference of almost all our Pleasures to Society , and the dependence which they have either on Society it self immediatly , or on the imagination and supposal of it , as present ; all these are sufficient proofs , or rather experiences and inward convictions of the truth of this . That the Pleasures of this sort are thus forcibly felt , and are even superior to those of any bodily kind , may be known too from effects ; not only from this ( tho this withal may be remark'd ) that the very outward features , the marks and signs which attend this sort of Joy , are expressive of a more intense , clear , and undisturb'd Pleasure , than those which attend the satisfaction of Thirst , Hunger , Lust , and the like ; but it may be known with certainty from the prevalence and ascendency of this sort of joy over any other ; from the silencing and appeasing of every other motion of Pleasure where this presents it self ; and from the preference which is apparently given by every Nature almost , at some time or other , to this feeling or affection , which has the power of drawing from every other ( as in the case of love to the young , and a thousand other instances ) or of so engrossing the whole Temper , as to render it , in the midst of all other Pleasures , sensible in a manner only to this alone , which remains as master of , and superior to the rest . There is not any one who , by the least progress in Science or Learning , has come to know barely the principles of Mathematics , but has found that in the exercise of his Mind , or the discoveries he there makes , tho merely of speculative Truths , he receives a pleasure and delight superior to that of Sense . But this again , how great soever the Pleasure may be , must of necessity be infinitly surpass'd by virtuous Motion or Exercise , where , together with the strongest delightful affection of the Soul , there is an approbation given by the Mind to what is acted in consequence of that Motion or Affection ; and where there is the fairest matter of Speculation , the goodliest view and contemplation on Earth , which is that of a beautiful , proportionable , and becoming Action , self applicable , and of which the memory and consciousness is of any other thing the most solidly and lastingly pleasing . In the passion of Love ( we mean of that sort which is between the Sexes ) in which there is a mixture of the strongest sensual Affection together with natural Affection , or affection of Kindness ( such as is in that case towards the object belov'd ) it so far appears that the sense or feeling of the former , and the Pleasure enjoy'd in it , is outdone in this latter , that it is commonly known how that often , through that affection of Kindness , and for the sake of the Person belov'd , when in any danger , or any ways expos'd , the greatest things in the world have bin done , and are so every day ; the greatest Hardships submitted to , and even Death it self voluntarily embrac'd , without any desired or expected compensation ; not here in this World surely , for Death puts an end to all ; nor hardly , I suppose , hereafter , for there are few who have ever thought yet of providing a Heaven or future Recompence for the suffering Virtue of Lovers . But what is more yet , as to the excellence of these natural Affections , and their agreeableness to our natures ; not only the natural Affections of this kind , when Joy , Sprightliness and Gaity are mixt with them , have real enjoyment and happiness above Sensuality , or the gratification merely of Sense ; but even that natural Affection which is clouded and under the worst appearance , the very Sorrow and Grief ( if one may say so ) which belongs to natural Affection , to a generous , humane and kind Concern ; tho it may be thought contrary to Pleasure , is yet for contentment and satisfaction far above those other pleasures of indulg'd Sense . And where a series or continu'd succession of these Motions or Affections can be carried on , even through fears , apprehensions , alarms , doubts ( the object Virtue being still kept in sight , and its Beauty appearing still in the midst of the surrounding Calamities ) there is inseparably join'd to this a contentment and satisfaction of the highest sort ; insomuch that when by mere illusion , as in a Tragedy , the Passions of this mournful kind are artfully excited in us , we prefer the Enjoyment and Pleasure to any other entertainment of equal duration , and find by our selves that the moving our Passions in this sort , the engaging them in the behalf of Merit and Worth , and the exerting of that Goodness that is in us , tho there be nothing more remote from sensual or bodily Pleasure , is yet of exquisit sensation , and to such as are refin'd enough to feel it , more moving , and of greater enjoyment than any thing of the other kind abstracted intirely from this . And after this manner it may appear how much the mental Enjoyments are actually the very natural Affections themselves . HOW much they proceed from , and are caused by natural Affection , we have now to consider . THAT the affection of Love , Kindness , and Bounty , is it self of the highest degree of mental Pleasure , has bin shewn . The EFFECTS of Love or kind Affection in a way of mental Pleasure are , a delight in , and enjoyment of the Good of others ; a receiving it , as it were , by reflection , so as to participate in the Joy , Pleasure , or Prosperity of whom we love or kindly affect ; And a pleasing consciousness of love or approbation from others , or of our meriting it from others . THERE is nothing plainer than that both these Satisfactions and Delights , viz. Joy in , and participation of the Good of others ; and pleasing consciousness or sense of merited Love from others , can possibly be nothing else but the EFFECTS of Love in us ; and that they increase and decrease , as their CAUSE diminishes or grows . So that where no Love or natural Affection is , or where it is but weak or unsound , there the consequent Pleasures cannot be at all , or at least must be but weak and unsound . Now the Pleasures of sharing Good with others ; of receiving it in fellowship and company ; of gathering it from the pleased and happy States of those around us , from accounts and relations of such Happinesses , Joys , Deliverances ; from the very Countenances and pleased Looks even of Creatures foreign to our Nature and Kind , whose signs of Joy and Contentment we can discern or understand ; the Pleasures or Delights of this sort are so infinitly spreading and diffusive through our whole lives , that there is hardly such a thing as Pleasure or Contentment , of which this is not a part , and which , if this were taken away , would not totally sink and be corrupted , or at least lose its chiefest vigor , that which made its refinement , and without which it would be dross . And thus in the same manner , as to the other Pleasure , that of Sensibleness to the love of others , and consciousness of merited Esteem and Love ; which in as far as it is a pleasure , must be wholly the EFFECT of Love , and cannot be felt where natural Affection is not felt . How familiar and natural it is to us , continually to be drawing some sort of satisfaction from hence ! How frequent and habitual it is with us , and how great a part of our enjoyment of Life , to be in joy and delight , as either well satisfied in the consciousness of merited Esteem and Kindness from others ; or as flattered by the imagination of it ! What Wretch is there , what open violator of the Laws of Society , destroyer or ravager so great , who has not a Companion , or some particular Set , either of his own Kindred , or of such as he calls Friends , with whom he shares his Good , in whose Welfare he delights , and whose Joy he makes his Joy ? Who are there amongst these that are not flattered by the kindness of some that are near them , and sensibly moved by the Affection which they apprehend is bore to them , even by such as are no way capable of assisting them , or serving their Interest ? It is to this that almost all their actions have reference ; and without this there are few even of these ununiform and inconsistent livers , who would not find themselves in an unsupportable solitude and desertion , and think Life it self a torment to them . It is this that goes through our whole lives , and mixes it self even with most of our Vices . Of this , Vanity , Ambition , Luxury , have a share , and many other disorders of our Life partake . So that were Pleasure to be computed in the way that other things commonly are , it might be said , that out of these two Branches would arise more than nine tenths of all that is enjoyed in Life . Now there is not , nor can be any thing of this kind which dos not immediatly depend on the having natural and kind Affection . And as natural Affection is narrow , broken , or imperfect , so must be the Content and Joy arising hence . FOR , first , PARTIAL AFFECTION , or natural Affection in part , and only to some particulars , is an inconsistency and contradiction : And as it has no foundation or establishment in reason , so it must be easily removable and subject to alteration without reason . Now the variableness of such sort of Passion , which depends solely on capriciousness and humor , and must undergo the changeable successions of alternate Hatred and Love , Aversion and Inclination towards the same Object , must not only in the end diminish natural Affection , and together with it the pleasures enjoyed from reflected Good , or Good of Participation , as above ; but must create continual disturbance within , unquietness , disgust , and give an allay to whatsoever is actually enjoy'd in the way of natural and social Affection . Whereas on the other hand INTIRE AFFECTION ( which is throughout , and equal towards the Society , or Whole , wheresoever any relation lies ) as it is answerable to it self , duly proportion'd , rational , and accountable ; so it is irrefragable , solid , and lasting . And as in the other , every deficiency elsewhere , and every exorbitancy in the Affection , dos in some manner resist and disturb the present and immediat feeling of social and friendly Affection ; so in this , every other good Affection , and the consciousness of integrity and soundness , casts a good reflection , and an addition of contentment on every particular Affection felt , and makes it of more inward pleasant feeling in the Soul , and more satisfactory and rejoicing in the Mind . Thus he who is least selfish , and can , according as there is merit , love another with most sincerity and strongest Affection , dos not only enjoy most by division or sharing of Good , and by communicating and imparting of it ; but through the consciousness of the Justice , Beauty and Excellence of that Love , of its proportionableness to all his other Affections , and of the sutableness of those Affections to Nature , and to the whole , he enjoys a satisfaction vastly above what is receiv'd from that limited , entangled , and much corrupted pleasure of imperfect , partial , and unintire Affection . AND in the last place , as PARTIAL AFFECTION is fitted but to a small enjoyment of those Pleasures of communicative and reflected Good above-mention'd ; so neither is it capable of extracting any thing considerable from that other principal Branch of human Happiness and Delight , The being sensible to the love and esteem of others , and the being conscious of that which merits it . For in the same manner as the Affection it self is narrowly limited , infirm and changable ; so accordingly is the merit arising hence very imperfect , and of little account . And , as the Merit is but low and inferior , whilst only towards some mean and inconsiderable part of Mankind , and not towards Society and the Whole ; so , accordingly , the consequent pleasure of the mind must below and defective . And as it is not possible that any who esteem not , nor love according to Virtue , should in the number of their so beloved and esteemed Friends find either those in whom they can so constantly and throughly rejoice , and have satisfaction in meriting from , or whose reciprocal love , esteem , or merited approbation , they can equally and constantly prize and enjoy ; so , they of necessity must fall short in this other part of mental Enjoyment . Nor can the Pleasures gather'd from self-flattery in that unsound esteem and love of those who are neither rightly nor constantly esteemed or loved , be any other than unsound , disorderly and disturbed . Whereas on the other hand , INTIRE AFFECTION has all the opposit advantages ; it has Applause and Love from the best ; and , in disinterested cases , from the very worst of men : and of this we may say , that it has a consciousness of merited love and approbation from all Society , from all intelligent Creatures , and from that which is the highest and supreme of all Intelligences . And the satisfaction which attends this Intire Affection , is full and noble in proportion to its ultimate and final Object , which carries all in it self , and contains all Perfection , according to that sense of Theism above establish'd . This is the result of Virtue : and to have this INTIRE AFFECTION , or INTEGRITY , is to live according to Nature , and the Dictates and Rules of supreme Wisdom ; this is Morality , Justice , Piety , and natural Religion . THUS therefore it is evident that by reason of the EFFECTS of natural Affection in reflected good from the joy and good of others , and in that of sensibleness to kindness and love from others , the chiefest of mental Pleasures ( which are the chiefest of all Pleasures ) are deriv'd from , and owing to natural Affection . AND to shew by farther instance yet , how much the mental Pleasures proceed from , and are caus'd by natural Affection ; let any one consider , that all those Pleasures which a man can have in any other besides a merely sensual way , all those Pleasures receiv'd from Converse , Familiarity , Society , in privat Contemplation , Thought and Retirement , in Mirth and Entertainment , or whatsoever they be of that Species and Kind of mental Pleasures ; they are wholly in a manner founded in the having as well dispos'd and easy Temper or Spirit , free of harshness , distast , sowerness , turbulence ; and in having a Mind or Reason in good order , reconcilable to it self , such as creates it self no unpleasant views , nor is of ill reflection . Now such a MIND and such a TEMPER as this , which must fit and qualify for the enjoying of the Pleasures mention'd , is , and must be owing to the natural and good Affections . AS to what relates to TEMPER ( which we will consider first ) and how a Temper of that happy sort comes to be really owing to natural Affection ; it may be consider'd thus . THERE is no state of Health or Prosperity so great , where Inclination and Will are always answer'd , Fancy and Humor pleas'd ; where there are not hourly almost some stops , impediments or crosses to the Intention , Appetite or Liking ; some Accidents or other from without to check the licentious course of the Desire ; or something from within , from the disposition of the Body , the Humors , or what else is common in the ordinary course of a Constitution , which must occasion distast and vexation , and cause a habit of that kind , where there is nothing to oppose it , so as to stop the progress of it , and hinder its gaining upon a Temper . Now the only thing that can be oppos'd to this , is some natural and kind Affection : for if the Mind by reflection resolves to suppress this ill at any time when risen in the Temper , and that it thinks fit to do it in good earnest on any account , it can no otherwise effectually and really do it but by introducing into the Soul , or passionat Part , some affection of Love , some motion of Kindness , Affectionatness or Candor , to allay and convert that motion of Impatience and Discontent . For , if it be not done this way , the Countenance may indeed be counterfeited , but the Heart not chang'd : and if it be done only by the power of immediat Fear or Apprehension , or by the power of any other Affection than such as is by nature opposit and contrary ; the ill Passion is suspended only during the time which that fear lasts , but is not subdu'd or in the least debilitated against the next occasion , nor hindred therefore as to its progress or gaining over the Temper . So that where an affable , benign , and kind disposition reigns not ; where there is not a mildness and serenity spread through the whole Temper , so as to render it of easy acceptation , and fair construction , compliant , easily conceding , charitable and good ; there can be but little of an easy and free Spirit long remaining , and consequently but few and slender Enjoyments of a mental kind : for in a Temper where the slightest thing diseases and provokes , where displeasure and offence are always ready to arise , and nothing kind and reconciling to allay and turn those Motions ; but where bitterness and choler in a manner swim at the top and over all , and where something of a froward and malignant kind is ever stirring and active ; in such a Temper as this there can be but little reception for any of those mental Pleasures , which in this case can be but very rarely experienc'd , must be very faint , and of small continuance . BUT , to press this further yet : It is most certain that by what proportion the natural and good Affections are lost or wanting in any Creature , by that proportion the ill and unnatural ones must prevail . It is the nature of every Passion by use and exercise to grow stronger and more confirm'd . There are in every Life , even in the most prosperous ( as has bin said already ) continual sources of displeasure and uneasiness , either from inward bodily constitution , variety of disposition , or the unconformity of things without to fancy , humor and will : and if those who are in the highest circumstances of Fortune seem to come off the easiest , it is to be consider'd that the most humor'd and indulg'd State is what receives the most disturbance from every disappointment or smallest ail . Now since besides what is of the kind of natural Affection , there is nothing of any kind else which can hinder the course and growing habit of impatience , discontent and vexation ; much less can any thing else besides natural and kind Affection , resist the more violent motions of Anger , Rage , Revengefulness ; and , where provocations , offences and enmities arise , ( as there are subjects infinit ) be able to correct the virulence and malignity of those Passions once kindled , and to expel that which is infective in them , and poisonous to the Temper : so that the forward , prone and sudden passions of Resentment , Pique , Vexation and Frowardness , which are sure to be mov'd on a thousand occasions , and which arise in a manner of themselves , without any apparent subject , having no check or controul ; but , being left masters and possessors of the Soul ( when there is nothing there either of human or good Affection to resist or make a stand ) and growing thus by use and exercise into greater strength and prevalence , they cannot but cause a settled inveteracy and rancor , and make this the ground and bottom of the whole Temper . But , of the misery of this we shall speak when we come to consider of the unnatural State. In the mean time it seems to have bin prov'd , that all those mental pleasures of Converse , Mirth , Familiarity , and the rest , depend upon a Mind and Temper properly dispos'd ; and that the TEMPER which produces these is and must be owing to the natural and good Affections . NOW as to the other part , a MIND or Reason thus dispos'd and in good order , reconcilable to it self , and of good reflection ; and upon what account this is , and must be owing to natural Affection , we may consider it after this manner . Whatever Creature has Intelligence and Reason in the manner that we have it , and who from several degrees of reflection has risen to that Capacity which we call Sense and Understanding ; such a Creature as this , in the very use of his contemplative or reasoning Faculty , is forc'd to receive reflections back into his Mind of that which passes in it self , of the actions of his Will , and of his foregoing Behavior in the common course of his natural Temper towards his fellow Creatures , as well as in all occasions besides . And tho we say of some giddy and heedless people , that they live without reflection , it is not that they are exempt from this sort of feeling , or have not this consciousness with them as others have ( for their Memory is as good , and the necessary occasions are as many of remembring and calling to mind what they did or felt before ) but they are said to have no reflection , because they do not designedly , or with any service or help to themselves in their Conduct , call to mind any number of circumstances to draw Inference from thence to what is present or future . Now to such a reasoning or reflecting Creature as this , who is forc'd of necessity to endure the review of his own Mind and Actions , and to have representations of himself and his own Affairs constantly before him , obvious to him , and passing in his Mind ; to such a Creature as this there are TWO things which must be horridly offensive and agrieving ; to have the reflection in his Mind of any past Action or Behavior which he likes not should be imputed to him , which he knows odious , and feels to be of ill merit : or , to have the reflection in his Mind of any thing foolishly done ( either as supinely and negligently , or as rashly and extravagantly ) in the prejudice of his own Interest and Good. CONSCIENCE is one or other , or both of these . For the fear of future Evils or of eternal Ill inflicted at the will of some superior and supernatural Power , is to have aw and terror of the Deity , but dos not imply Conscience , any more than the fear of those evils which are apprehended from Spirits , Enchantments , and such like , dos imply Conscience : for to fear the Devil and to fear God would ( as to Conscience ) be then all one ; and to fear God in any other manner than as in consequence of some justly blameable and imputable act , is to fear a devilish Nature , or Devil in the stead of God : so that Conscience may even be where sense of future divine Punishment is not . Nor dos the terror of Hell , or a thousand other terrors of the Deity imply Conscience except in this case , viz. where there is ill reflection in the Mind of what is wrong , odious , morally deform'd , and ill deserving ; or of what was committed contrary to wisdom , and unaccountably : and wheresoever this is ( whether join'd or not join'd with any positive fear of future divine Punishment to be inflicted ) there Conscience is , there Conscience accuses . And thus there is besides a religious Conscience that which we may call moral or natural Conscience : altho that also may be call'd religious Conscience which regards the odiousness of any act with respect to the all ▪ seeingness of the Deity ; who being so highly thought of as to all Excellence and Greatness , it cannot otherwise be , but that in the conceiv'd presence of such a Being , the shame of Villany or Vice must with great forcibleness be felt , even independently of that apprehension or sense of any future Punishment of positive infliction . AS for a rational Creature therefore , such as Man , who whilst he continues to be Rational and to have a Mind , must of necessity through the course of his Life be conscious of , and have before him still , the results of that Mind , the determinations and actions of his Will , and the effects of his natural Temper and Affections in his foregoing Life : if there be any action which , having proceeded hence , is odious of imputation , and of ill reflection , it must be discomposing and afflicting to him , as being acted against natural Conscience . There is no sensible Creature who maliciously and intentionally dos ill , who is not sensible likewise that he deserves ill : and in this sense every Creature has Conscience . For , with all Mankind , and all intelligent Creatures this must ever hold , that WHAT they know they deserve from every one , THAT they necessarily must fear and expect from every one : and thus suspicions and ill apprehensions must grow , and terrors arise both of Men and of the Deity . But besides this , and over and above the very Return and Punishment which is fear'd , there must , in almost every rational Creature , be yet farther Conscience , from sense of deformity in what is thus ill-deserving and unnatural , and from the consequent regret and hatefulness of incurring what is odious , and moves aversion . There scarcely is , or can be any Creature whom consciousness of Villany as such merely dos not at all offend ; nor any thing opprobrious or hainously imputable , move or affect : or if there be such a one , it follows then , that with such a Creature as this all things that are of a moral kind , or relate to either the good or ill of the Species , must be equal and indifferent in the Affection ( for if it were not so , but that any thing of that kind were odious , it must be most of all odious of imputation or self ▪ application . ) If this be so , then neither can there be any natural Affection : if not that , then neither any pleasure of Society , or mental Enjoyment , as above ; but instead of that , all manner of horrid , unnatural and ill Affection ; of the misery of which we are to speak distinctly under our last head . So that not to be sensible to the odiousness or mere deformity of Crime and Injustice ( which is to have no sense of the goodness or illness of any act , nor any natural Affection at all ) and to be so far without Conscience , is to be most of all miserable in Life : but where Conscience or sense of this sort remains , there it follows , that whatever carriage , action or deed , is contrary to the sense of goodness and deservingness , and is therefore odious of imputation , unbecoming , and of ill consciousness , this must of necessity , by means of Reflection , be continually grievous and offensive . A man who in the height of Anger and Fury happens to kill another , dos , as we often see , relent immediatly at the very sight of what he has done , and only by beholding the miserable state of a dying Creature , in that spectacle of Death which he himself has caus'd : for this he suffers Agony ; the subject of this continually occurs to him in his mind ; and of this he must have ill memory and consciousness . If on the other side , he dos not relent nor suffer any concern at all , then , either he is such a one as has no sense of Deformity , of Crime and Injustice , no natural Affection , and consequently no Happiness or Peace within : or if he have sense of moral Goodness or Illness , but that in this or any particular , he affects THAT as noble , gallant or worthy , which is the contrary ; it must follow , that as there is no proportion , aptness or fitness but in Virtue alone to Esteem , Approbation , or good Consciousness ; he must either through the inconsistency , contradictoriness and absurdity of such an unlasting and unaccountable Esteem and Approbation , and through the ill influence it must have in time upon his Temper , come to lose at last even this remaining imperfect Conscience ; or , if he still retains it in any degree , it must follow that through the same unsutableness of Approbation or Esteem to any thing of a contrary nature to Virtue , there must be great confusion and disagreement in Life , and continual disturbance and dissatisfaction in the service of such a Principle . For it is impossible that a Murderer , or one of the Banditi , a Pirat , or any confederate Cheat or Ruffian , or in short , any one who is false to the society of Mankind in general , and contradicts natural Affection , should have any Principle that holds throughout , any fix'd Standard or Measure upon which he can regulate his Approbation or Esteem , any Reason or Rule for his approbation of any one action moral ; if any thing morally good or ill , amiable or detestable has place with him : so that the more he engages in the love or admiration of any thing as morally worthy , which is morally ill and detestable ; the more self-contradiction he must meet with , the more dissatisfaction and self-disapprobation in the main , through the perpetual variableness and instability of that Rule by which he approves and disapproves , and through the irreconcilableness of his Mind and Reason to it self . And there being nothing more certain than this , that no natural Affection can be contradicted , nor no ill one advanced ( as by false applause it is ) without a prejudice in some degree to all the other natural Affections ; it must follow that natural Deformity growing greater by the incouragement of unnatural Affection in any particular , if at the same time there remains a sense of moral Good or Ill ; there must be of necessity more work created for ill Conscience , more subject of ill consciousness ; and the matter or ground of self-disapprobation or self-dissatisfaction in Life , must be more increas'd , as irregular and ill Affection increases . IN short , there is no transgression , loss or violation of natural Affection in any degree , without ill Conscience of the first sort , viz. of ill merit or ill deservingness , such as loses us that supreme happiness of Rest , and security of Mind in a freedom from ill Apprehensions and Suspicions ; and such as must draw on , necessarily , that contrary habit of Mind which causes us to live in terrors of Mankind , and of all credited , or but suspected superior Powers : from which fears we are by innocence and good consciousness so much deliver'd , and by that means plac'd in such security and ease . If there be no farther Conscience than this , if there be no Conscience at all from sense of deformity in moral Ill , and consequently no natural Affection ; then is the Mind farthest of all from being at ease , by being ( as it must necessarily be , when natural Affection is lost ) in the horridest state of Savageness , Immanity and unnatural Passion . If there be indeed farther Conscience , as from a sense of moral Deformity and Excellence , then there being certainly no durable or consistent self-approbation from any thing besides what is of Virtue ; there is ground of constant self-accusation or dislike from whatsoever is contrary to , or is a defect in natural Affection : as on the other side , there is ground of thorow self-approbation , joy and contentment , wheresoever there is integrity of Life , and adherence to natural and sound Affection . THIS also is to be consider'd , that when any one by an immorality or injustice offends his Conscience , and goes against natural Affection , or sense of Right and Wrong ; he cannot possibly see a reason in himself , why he should not be carried further into all manner of Villany , or why he should not esteem himself as a person liable and open to all Crime and Wickedness , even that which is as yet unknown to him . And this is a reproach which a Mind must of necessity make to it self upon the least offence of Conscience , and where any thing is committed in contradiction to a sense of Right and Wrong , that is , of an amiableness or deformity in moral Actions . AS for that other part of Conscience , viz. the ill remembrance or ill reflection of what is unreasonably done , and in prejudice of Interest or Happiness : This must follow still and have effect , wheresoever any action has given occasion to sense of Deformity contracted by Crime and Injustice : or where there is not the ground of any such sense ; yet there must follow still an ill Conscience from sense of ill Merit with respect to Men , and to the Deity . Or tho there be a possibility ( which is hard to suppose ) of excluding for ever all thoughts or suspicions of any superior Powers , yet it is impossible but that an almost total defect in natural Affection , which no dissimulation can long conceal , must occasion a sensible loss to us in the confidence and trust of men , and consequently in Interest and Happiness . And the sense of this great disadvantage is what can never fail to occur to us , when we see ( as we must be forc'd to do with envy ) the better and more grateful terms of Friendship , Trust , Love and Esteem , on which those who have not renounc'd their good and natural Affection , live with the rest of Mankind . Where natural Affection therefore is not ; yet by Immorality , happening through want of such Affection , there must be disturbance from Conscience of this sort , viz. from sense of what is committed unwisely , and contrary to Interest and Safety : and this too , notwithstanding any security in which men may live against the apprehensions of a superior and animadverting Power . FROM all this we may conclude , that a MIND and Reason , well at ease , orderly , reconcilable with it self , and of good retrospect or reflection ( on which , and on a TEMPER such as we have spoken of , all those mental Pleasures before enumerated do in a great degree depend , and are founded ) is owing to natural and good Affection . SO that if the chiefest Happiness be from the mental Pleasures , and from the constantest succession or series of such in Life ; and that the chiefest mental Pleasures are such as we have treated of , and are founded in natural Affection ; it follows , that To have the natural Affections , is to have the chiefest enjoyment , possession , and happiness of Life . NOW as to the pleasures of the Body , and the satisfactions belonging to Sense ; it is evident , that they cannot possibly have their effect , or be of any valuable or delightful enjoyment , but by the means of natural and social Affection . IF from the highest voluptuousness in eating or in drinking , the circumstances of a Table and Companions were withdrawn ; so that all possible means of enjoying these delights in fellowship , all occasion for social feeling or Affection were deny'd ; there would be hardly any Pleasure remaining that were worth acceptance , even in the opinion of the most debauch'd themselves : and if there are any of those Sensualists who can be sensual by themselves , who can be contented to take these satisfactions when perfectly alone , and can indulge themselves in the same manner , and eat and drink with the same relish then as at another season ; there is no body who thinks the Pleasure of these persons to be very refin'd , or that they are so much as capable of enjoying it , so as to be reckon'd upon as men of Pleasure . The very notion of a Debauch ( which is a sally into all that can be imagin'd of Pleasure and Voluptuousness ) carries with it an apprehension of reference to Society , or to a Gang , or something of Fellowship : it may be call'd a Surfeit or Excess of eating and drinking , but hardly a Debauch of that kind , when the excess was taken separately , out of Society or reach of People : and one that uses himself in this way , is often call'd a Sot , but never a Debauchee . The Courtezans , and even the commonest of Women , who live by prostitution , know very well how necessary it is , that every one whom they entertain with their Beauty , should believe that there are satisfactions reciprocal , and that Pleasures are as well given as receiv'd : and were the imagination of this to be wholly taken away , there are hardly any of the grosser sort of Mankind who would not think the remaining Pleasure to be gross and sordid , and of very imperfect injoyment . Who is there that can well , or long enjoy any thing when alone , and abstracted perfectly even in his very Mind and Thought , from any thing of Society ? Who is there that on those terms is not soon cloy'd by any sensual Indulgence , and that is not uneasy with his Pleasure , however exquisit it be , of Sensation , till such time as he has found a way to impart it , and make it truly pleasant to him , by communicating his Joy , and sharing it at least with some one single person ? Let men imagin what they please ; let them suppose or believe themselves ever so selfish ; or desire ever so much to follow the dictates of such a Principle , and to bring Nature under restraint ; Nature will break out , and in agonies , disquiets , and a distemper'd state , demonstrate evidently the ill consequence of such violence , the absurdity of such a device , and the punishment which belongs to such a monstrous and horrid endeavor . THUS , therefore , not only the pleasures of the Mind depend on natural Affection ; but even the pleasures too of the Body do in so far depend , that where natural Affection is not , they not only lose their force , but are in a manner converted into disturbance , uneasiness and disgust : so as that the matter which should feed joy , contentment and delight , feeds rather discontent and sowerness , and breeds a nauseating , wearisom and restless disposition , by reason of the absolute incapacity in any thing sensual to please , or give any lasting or thorow contentment , where it is not mixt with any thing of affable , kind , or social Affection . AND thus both with respect to Mental enjoyment , and to the enjoyments of Sense also ; TO HAVE THE NATURAL AFFECTIONS , IS TO HAVE THE CHIEFEST SATISFACTION AND HAPPINESS OF LIFE . NOW on the other side , THAT TO WANT THE SAME NATURAL AFFECTIONS IS TO BE CHIEFLY MISERABLE , appears first from the loss it implies both of the mental and bodily Pleasures ; and also from its carrying with it the horridest of pains , those of the Mind : of which sort if ( by what shall further be prov'd ) those deriv'd from unnatural and horrid Affections appear to be the very worst ; it will follow that since ( according to what has bin prov'd already ) unnatural and horrid Affection is and must ever be consequent to the loss of natural and good ; that therefore to want natural and good Affection , is certainly to incar the greatest of Torments and Diseases . BUT , before we conclude as to this of natural Affection , we may add something in general , of the BALANCE of the Affection ( of which we gave some hint before ) and by this endeavor to demonstrate how that for want of a due proportion or balance in natural Affection , a Creature is at a loss and uneasy , disturb'd , and ill affected in his other Passions . THERE is no body who has consider'd ever so little the nature of the sensible part , the Soul or Mind , but knows that in the same manner as without action , motion and employment , the Body languishes and is oppress'd , its Nourishment grows the matter and food of Disease , the Spirits unconsum'd help to consume the Body , and Nature as it were preys upon it self ; so also that sensible and living part , the Soul or Mind , wanting its proper and natural exercise , is burden'd , and diseas'd ; and its Thoughts and Passions being unnaturally witheld from their due Objects , turn against it self , and create the highest impatience . For the Mind or Soul , which more than the Body requires agitation and exercise , cannot be but in a state of Feeling or Passion , of some kind , and under some certain Affection or other : if not under such Affection as may fitly employ it in proportionable and fit subject ; yet however under such as will make it a burden , disease and torment to it self . IN BRUTES , and such as have not the use of Reason or Reflection ( at least not after the manner which Mankind has ) it is so order'd in Nature , that between their daily search after Food , their application and intention towards the business of their own immediate support , or towards the affairs of their Kind , almost their whole time is taken up , and they fail not to find full imployment for their Passion , according to that degree of agitation and vigor to which they are fitted , and which their Nature requires . If it happens that any one of these be taken out of a natural and laborious state , to be plac'd in the midst of Ease , and of a Plenty furnishing abundantly to all his Appetites and Wants ; it proves , that as his Circumstances are luxuriant , his Temper and Passions grow so too ; and that coming to have these accommodations at a cheaper rate , with respect to Labor and Imployment , than was intended him by Nature , he is made to pay dearer for it in another sense , by losing the good disposition of his Temper and Passions , and the orderliness of his Kind or Species . IT happens with Mankind , that some by necessity are ty'd to Labor , whilst others are provided for in an abundance of all things at the expence of the Labors of the rest . Now , if amongst those of this easy sort , there be not something of fit and proper Imployment rais'd in the room of what is wanting by such a vacancy from common Labor and Toil ; if there be not an application to some sort of work , such as has a good and honest end in Society , as Letters , Sciences , Arts , Husbandry , public or privat Oeconomy , or the like ; but that there be a settled Idleness , Supiness , and a relax'd and dissolute State ; it must needs produce ( as is always seen ) a total disorder of the Passions , and must break out in the strangest irregularities imaginable . It is not thus with those who are taken up in honest and due Imployment , and have bin well inur'd to it , as amongst the industrious sort of common People ; where it is rare to meet with any instances of those irregularities of Affection that are known in Courts and where Idleness reigns . Neither may it be improper here , to remark what many have done in advantage of Imployment and Application ; that where a Person necessitated from his youth to a Life of the most laborious sort , has on a sudden chang'd his circumstances and become rich , he has found in himself the uneasiness and ill operation of that Ease and Rest he so much wish'd for , and having no other proper imployment to turn himself to , he has again betaken himself to that Life out of choice , to which before be was only driven and necessitated . THERE is no need of going about by farther Instances , and Argument , to prove , that as motion and exercise is of absolute necessity to the good state and welfare of the BODY ; so it is to that of THE MIND AND AFFECTIONATE PART . NOW Nature having ( as we see evidently in Creatures ) made it so great a part of the natural imployment and exercise of the Mind and Passion , to be applied and bent towards the Species : and having suted and fram'd the rest of the Passions , the whole Constitution and Oeconomy of the Creature to this ; it cannot but follow of consequence , that where this social Bent and Affection is wanting , the Mind and passionat Part must suffer much by the want of it ; being sure to create to themselves unusual and unnatural exercise , where they are cut off from such as is natural and good . And thus in the room of social and natural Affection , new and unnatural ones must be rais'd , and all Order and Oeconomy be thus destroy'd . IT is to have a very imperfect idea of the Order of Nature in the formation and structure of Animals , to think that so great a Principle , so fundamental a Part as that of natural Affection in the Soul , should be possibly lost or impair'd without mighty disorder , calamity and injury to the Creature . In the structure of the Body , where all is so aptly adjusted , there is not any of all those which are call'd the noble or principal Parts , that can be wounded or hurt without the immediat disorder and sufferance of the whole Body . Nor is this otherwise in the structure of the Passions and Affections , which are with equal art and exactness suted and fram'd to one another , to every different Creature and different Sex ; since we see the Whole so nicely built , that the barely extending of one Passion but a little too far , or the continuance of it too long , is able to overturn all , and bring irrecoverable ruin and misery , by Distraction . How is it possible , therefore , that in a System such as this , a principle of Life and Motion so great as that of natural Affection , so interwove with all the other Faculties , and suted to the other Motions within , should possibly be injur'd or lost , without the sufferance and ruin of the inward Part , and a total intanglement , torture , and perplexity of inward Disposition ? We see in the example of Castration , how a small bodily alteration has an effect upon the Passions , so as to take away those Appetites and Affections that are the proper ones of the Sex , and how great a disorder this breeds ; how Man himself no less than other creatures , is render'd by it unsound , imperfect , deform'd , and miserably disposed in his Passions and Affections as well as in outward figure ; how impotent of mind , and how weak , untoward and wretched in his whole state . It is the same thing when without any change in the bodily Organs , and only by the force of unnatural Education , Practice , or Use , any natural Passions are remov'd which are of the Oeconomy and Order of the Creature . A man effeminatly bred and us'd , tho not an Eunuch , nor by any Metamorphosis chang'd into Woman , yet becomes a kind of Woman in part , and is the same disfigur'd creature as to his Passions and inward Composure , as that other sort of monster and creature of neither Sex. Who is there that can think of any creature that becomes degenerate , and loses any principal Feeling or Passion which is of the character of his Species ( as of a Lion that should lose his Courage , a Bee his Industry , a Turtle his tender , and as it were conjugal Affection ) without having the idea of an untoward imperfect Being , and of a Creature that for his own sake had better not be ? Can any one think either of a Male that passes into any of the Passions or Affections proper only to the Female ; or of a Female that loses the proper and peculiar softness belonging to the Sex , and becomes Masculine , without being offended , and without judging very readily , that as there is a different order of Life , a different oeconomy , different capacities of Pleasure , and enjoyments of Life ; so there is a different order set , and oeconomy of Passions assign'd in the same manner to the one , different from the other ? For , where the Faculties , the Habitudes or Affections belonging to the Male , are join'd to other Affections which are proper only to the Female ; this being disagreeable , preposterous , and of disturbance to the smooth and regular course of the Passions , must be of necessity a torment and disease . NOW if for any Animal , even of the brutish kind , to lose any one of those Affections proper to his Species and to the character of his Kind , or of his Sex only , be of so great an injury to him ; what must it be for Man to lose that sense and feeling which is proper to him as a man ; which is his proper Character , his Make and Genius ? What must it be for Man ( whose dependence on , and relation to Society is yet greater than in any of those other Creatures ) to lose any thing of that natural Affection by which he is carried on to the good of his Species and Society , and of which passion he has naturally so much more than other creatures , that he , of any other , can least bear Solitude or an intermission of social Enjoyment which he is still seeking after , and if long depriv'd of , is hardly able to endure his Being ? Nor is any thing more apparent than that there is naturally in every one such a degree of social Affection as necessitates and drives him to seek the Familiarity and Friendship of others , amongst whom he may let loose a Passion which wants to be employ'd , and which when it is suppress'd , creates a sadness , dejection and melancholy in the Mind , as great as is on the contrary that healing and enlivening Joy it brings when acting at its liberty and with full scope ; as at that time we may see particularly when the Heart is open'd , and the secrets of the Breast unfolded to a Bosom-friend . This we see confirm'd in persons of the most elevated Stations , in Princes , Monarchs , and those who seem by their condition to be above ordinary human Commerce , and to affect a strangeness and distance with Mankind . For altho the wiser and better sort are perhaps out of a jealousy rejected by them , as not fitted for their intimacy or secret converse ; yet there are those substituted in the room , who tho they may have the least merit of any , and are perhaps the most vile and contemptible of men ; yet serve however to that end of Friendship , and are so much the subjects of a Kindness and social Affection in these great ones , that for these we can see them often in pain and in concern ; in these they easily confide ; to these they can with pleasure be open , free , kind , succorable and bountiful , as rejoycing and taking delight in it , having no intention or aim beyond it , and their interest ( in respect of Policy ) often standing contrary to it . In Persons of but an ordinary good Disposition , no better than what is common to the generality of Mankind , it is discernable how much they are press'd with this necessity of entertaining Friendship and familiar Commerce , and how much these social Affections want ( if I may say so ) their daily exercise and discharge . How heavy dos Life grow when without it ? And how plain is it , that after a long absence , and a sort of abstinence in this way , after a banishment from the company of near Friends , and a disuse of Society but for a small time , the Mind is in distress , the Temper discompos'd ; and that no sooner is the man restor'd to the means of his former Enjoyment , but he takes new Pleasure , receives additional Delight , and enjoys more than before the freedom , intimacy , and all those circumstances of friendly Commerce , and of an inward Society from which he was separated ? AND thus it may appear how much natural Affection is predominant in us ; how it is inwardly joined to us , and implanted in our Natures ; how interwove with our other Passions , and how essential to the regular motion and course of all our Affections , on which our happiness and self-enjoyment so immediatly depends . THUS much as to the System and Constitution of the inward part , and as to that natural BALANCE of the Affections ; which may not be thought ( we hope ) so odd or unjustifiable a way of speaking , after what has bin said . AS to both those Ills which follow the ill balance and defect of natural Affection , viz. the enlargement and extention of the selfish Passions ; and the growth of the unnatural and horrid ones ; how and in what degree these Consequences are miserable , we come to speak in what follows upon each of those heads , which make the second and third part of this Examination . AND thus it appears , that As TO HAVE THE NATURAL AND GOOD AFFECTIONS IS OF THE CHIEFEST ENJOYMENT OF LIFE ; So TO WANT THEM IS OF THE HIGHEST DISORDER AND MISERY . II. WE are now to prove , THAT BY HAVING THE SELF-PASSIONS TOO INTENSE OR STRONG , A CREATURE IS MISERABLE . WE have already consider'd in some measure of the Passions and Affections of this kind , as they are good and useful for the Creature , with respect to his privat Interest and self-Oeconomy . Now these , if they are moderate and in a natural degree , are no ways inconsistent with the effects or right operation of natural Affection ; which will prevail still where it ought , and in every fit occasion take place of any of those other Affections whilst thus moderate , and make them to be no obstructions : For thus in a Creature who has a natural affection towards its young , the Affections towards privat good or safety , tho abiding still in the Creature , are yet no hindrance to his operation towards public Good , or good of his Kind , even where Sufferings and Violences are to be undergon , and Life it self comes in question : And this is according to a right Balance and Proportion . But if the Passions of this kind toward privat Good , or the Regards to privat Good are excessive and beyond a certain degree ; then is this Operation hindred , and the effects of natural Affection towards public Good prevented : and thus is the Balance broken , and Oeconomy destroy'd . Therefore if it be suppos'd conducing to the Interest of any Creature , to have these self-Passions thus violently strong , and the Balance to be after this manner ; then it must be according to his Interest resolutely to go against those natural Affections . But if ( as we think it will appear ) it can never be for the interest of a Creature to have his self-Passions thus strong or violent , so as to make this ill Balance ; then it must be always at his own disadvantage , and not according to his interest , to go contrary to natural Affection , through that which we call self-Love . IF there were any of these self-Passions , which for the good and happiness of the Creature might be set in opposition to natural Affection , and deserv'd a degree of strength able to over-balance it ; THE DESIRE AND LOVE OF LIFE would be the most likely . But it may be found perhaps that there is no Passion which ( by having so much allow'd to it ) is the occasion of more Disorder and Misery . THERE is nothing more certain , or that is more universally consented to and confess'd by every one , than this ; That Life may sometimes be even a misfortune and misery ; and that nothing can be more desirable than to lay it down and withdraw from under the heavy burden . To cause , or any way inforce the continuance of Life in Creatures reduc'd to a certain extremity , is esteem'd the greatest Cruelty : and even there where any religious Faith forbids , as a thing heinous and sinful , that any one should be his own reliever ; still , if by any fortunat accident Death offers of it self , it is embrac'd as highly welcom , and as a Blessing . And on this account the nearest Friends and Relations often rejoice at the release of one entirely belov'd . even tho he himself may have bin of so weak a mind as to have declin'd Death , and endeavor'd earnestly the prolongment of his own uneligible and wretched State. SINCE Life therefore may frequently prove a Misfortune and Misery , and that even naturally it becomes so by being only prolong'd till it reaches the infirmities of old Age ; and since there is nothing more commonly known than the instances of Life overvalu'd , where , out of an eager desire of Life , men purchase it at an overrate , and at such a cost as hardly any Life can be thought worth ; it follows evidently , that that Passion or Affection of love of Life , and abhorrence or dread of Death , if it be over great and exceedingly prevalent , and over balancing in the Temper of any Creature , must be the means of carrying him directly against his own interest and good , and must make him in occasions , such as are of the last importance , to become the greatest enemy to himself that can be , and necessitate him to act as such . BUT in the next place : tho it were always the interest and good of a Creature , by all courses and means whatsoever , at any price or at any rate , to preserve Life ; yet according to this , it is not for the interest of a Creature to have this Passion over great : for thus it will be ineffectual , and not conducing to its end . Various instances need not be given : for what is there better known , than that at all times an excessive fear betrays to danger , instead of saving from it ; and that it is impossible for any one to do the least thing serviceably or well for his own preservation , or in his own defence , when strongly press'd with such a Passion : insomuch , that on all extraordinary Emergences , Courage is that which chiefly saves , whilst Cowardice robs us of the means of safety , and not only deprives us of our defensive Faculties , and hinders us from acting as we should do to that end of our defence ; but even runs us into the mouth of Ruin , and makes us meet that evil which we scarce needed to have shun'd ? AND now tho in neither of these senses it could be call'd an Ill , to have the Affection of this sort thus strong and prevalent ; yet the Affection it self , when in this degree predominant in any one , must be the cause of Misery , if it be misery to have a thorow Cowardice , and to feel those horrors that are proper to the character of one who lives under a constant dread of Death . For , in a rational and reflecting Creature ( to whom the thoughts and imagination of Death are continually in some manner or another presented ) an inherent Passion of this sort must be the occasion of the greatest Agonies and Torments , such as must enter at all times into the pleasantest parts of Life , so as to corrupt and poison all Enjoyment and Consent . And thus by reason of this Passion alone , such a Life as this , if inwardly and closely view'd , would be found to be one of the most miserable , tho attended with all other Circumstances that should in all appearance make it happy . But when we add to this the meannesses and base condescensions occasion'd by such a fear of Death , and which necessarily follow from such an eager desire of retaining Life ; when we consider how we are debas'd and sham'd by it , when driven to actions which we cannot view but with dislike ; when the Life we thus cherish , is by this means grown to be of so unpleasing reflection , sulli'd , deform'd , and forc'd by degrees into still greater crookedness and perplexity ; in this case I think there is no body ever so little ingenuous but feels that Life sits heavily upon us , and is worn uneasily : whilst all that is kind and social , the chief pleasure and good of Life , is for the sake of Life abandon'd and given up , and things submitted to , for which nothing in Life besides can make amends . IN short , Is there any thing more miserable than the condition of a thorow timorous Nature , where the terror of dying is always a close and pressing Passion ? And what Fortune , what outward State ever so secure , can deliver from this ? To what is not such a one necessitated and driven , who lives under a more than ordinary fear of this sort ? What torturing and endless work is still growing upon his hands , who out of an earnestness to retain Life at any rate , renders it so much the more expos'd , as he is forc'd more and more into those indirect courses upon which such a Passion runs him ? On the other 〈…〉 , is there any one who will not esteem the life of a Person more easy towards this subject , to be a Life capable infinitly of greater Happiness and Enjoyment ? Is not the very consciousness and feeling it self of such an Ease and Indifference as this , an infinit satisfaction in a world of occasions ? And is not the effect of it an augmenting and heightning to our pleasures , and to the enjoyments we take in Life ; as the contrary Passion is by its effect destructive to the pleasures of Life , and an allay and bitterness amidst all that is injoy'd of that sort ? AND thus therefore , upon the whole , it seems evident , That to have that Affection of DESIRE AND LOVE OF LIFE , or ABHORRENCE OF DEATH , too intense and beyond a certain degree , is against the interest , good and safety of a Creature , and is opposit to the Happiness he injoys in Life . IN the same manner as this passion of Fear ( under a certain degree ) is necessary to self-preservation , and to the avoiding of what is destructive ; so is there another Passion as preservative to us , and as useful to our safety , by assisting us not to fly , but to repel Injury , and resist Violence when offer'd . It is by this that a Creature offering an injury , is deter'd from it , as knowing by the very signs which accompany this Passion whilst it is rising and gathering strength , that the Injury will not go with impunity . And it is this Passion which , when violence is actually us'd , assists us more effectually to struggle against it , and adds a force to us , both in supporting it , and in returning it on the Inflicter . For thus , as Rage and Despair increase , a Creature grows still more and more terrible ; and being urg'd to the greatest extremity , finds a degree of strength and boldness unknown till then , and which had not risen but through the height of Provocation . As to this Passion therefore of ANGER ( for I know no other word for it ) tho its immediat aim be indeed the Ill or Punishment only of another , and not the good of self ; yet it is plainly one of those Passions ( of which we are now discoursing ) that tend to the advantage and interest of the self-System , the Animal himself : since a certain degree of that Passion ( whether that degree be properly call'd Anger or no , it matters not ) is most certainly requisit in the Creature for his performance even of the better sort of moral Actions , whether tending to the good of Society , or to his own preservation and defence . For , who can resolutely enough divide from , or resist ill and detestable men ; or who can fight either singly against a privat enemy , or for the public against a public one , without feeling in some measure , and being arm'd as it were with a certain degree of this Passion ? But , on the other side , there is hardly any need that we should explain how mischievous and destructive Anger is , if it be what we commonly mean by that word ; if it be such as denominates an angry Temper , and be either hasty , rash , and violent in the instant of provocation only ; or if it be of that kind which imprints it self deeply , and for a long season , and causes Revenge , and a vindicative Bent and Resolution . What can be a sorer or deeper wound , a closer grief , or more sensible misery , than to be agitated by this fierce Passion , and carry this sting within ? And what wonder is it that so much is done out of Revenge , and in the fury of Anger , when the relief and satisfaction found in that indulgence is really the asswaging of the most torturous Grief and pressing sensation of Misery ; which being remov'd , or for a while alleviated or abated , by the accomplishment of the Desire in the ill of another , leaves behind it ( as a rack newly quitted ) the perception of the greatest Comfort , and an overflowing of soft and pleasing Sensation ? From hence are those untoward delights of perversness , and of an habitual froward , envenom'd and malignant Disposition acting at its liberty : for this is a perpetual asswaging of Anger perpetually kindled , and always renewing ; which is the same as to be perpetually stung , and still curing of the Sore . Thus a thorow home Revenge being rais'd once to a high pitch , rests not till it attains its end ; and that attain'd , is easy and reposes : making the succeeding Ease and Relief to be by so much more enjoy'd as the preceding Anguish and incumbent Pain was of long duration , and of bitterest impatience . And certainly if amongst Lovers , and in the language of Gallantry , the success of ardent Love is call'd the asswaging of a Pain ; this must be by far yet , more justly term'd so . And surely , however pleasing that other pain may be said to be , this can be no pleasing one , nor can be any other than sound and thorow wretchedness , a grating and disgustful feeling , without the least mixture of any thing soft or flattering . TO speak any further of this Passion of Anger ; to shew the ill effects of it as to our Selves , our Minds and Bodies , our Condition , and Circumstances of Life with those around us ; or to shew on the other side , the good effects as well as happy feeling of a mild condescending Temper , easy of contentment , such as not easily takes offence , and easily forgives ; to shew how much this is sutable to Interest , to Health and Contentment , to easy and pleasant Living ; and how much the contrary is embroiling , dangerous , exposing , and of perpetual disturbance , inconvenience and misfortune , would be I imagin needless . What has bin said , may be enough to make this be understood , That to be subject to such affection of Anger of any kind , as we have bin mentioning , is to suffer under a worse sort of Disease , and to be subject to no small Misery . WE are now to speak concerning other self-Passions that are of the Oeconomy of the Creature , as love or appetite to Nourishment ; love of , and concern for those Conveniences by which we are well provided for and maintain'd ; love and desire of Reputation , Authority , and Power of some kind , which advance our Welfare , good Establishment and Condition of living . Now these affections of Desire or Appetite towards what is self-advantageous , and of self-good , if they are moderate and in certain bounds , are such as are not blamable , by being any ways injurious to social Life , or a hinderance to Virtue : but being in an extreme degree , they become Luxury , Avarice , Ambition , and are known vitious and ill with respect to Society . How it is that they are ill also with respect to the privat Person , and are his loss and injury as well as the Society's , we may thus consider . As first in that of LUXURY . WERE it true ( as has bin prov'd the contrary ) that the most considerable Pleasures were such as came in by the sense ; and were it true also that these Pleasures of the sense lay in such certain outward things capable and sure to yield always a due and certain portion of Pleasure according to their degree and quality ; it would then follow , that the certain way to procure Happiness would be barely to procure largely of these Subjects to which Happiness and Pleasure were thus annexed ; and by using or consuming the most of these , make sure of most enjoyment . But in what sense soever it be that this is call'd to live , and to live fast , as if this were to make the most of Life ; it will hardly be found that the inward Faculties ( such as are the cause that any thing of pleasure is conceiv'd ) are able to keep pace with these outward supplies . And if the natural disposition and aptness from within be not concurring , it will be in vain that these Subjects are thus heap'd on , and multiply'd with eager intention and desire . Now if those inward dispositions ( such as of a Stomach towards nourishment ) be disorder'd , overturn'd , and ruin'd by excess , then is there no longer the same enjoyment to be receiv'd from any thing ; but all is in a manner ruin'd , and the capacity of real Pleasure lost , whilst that which remains is rather a sore and a disease : as may be observ'd in those who have gain'd a constant nauseating , tho with a cravingness of stomach ; or who have contracted a continual , eager , and insatiable thirst . But how much better dos Nature , that has so well and easily provided for our Pleasure , dictate also and prescribe to us for the enjoyment of it ? and who by quitting Nature e'er made advancement or improv'd in Pleasure ? Was it ever known of any one , long us'd and accustom'd to an active Life , and to Exercise begetting Health , and a kindly vigorous Appetite , that having then experienc'd the gratefulness of Food , even of the plainest kind ; it ever came into his thought , upon a following change of Life and Diet , to compare or bring in competition the Pleasures receiv'd from all those delicacies of Luxury , and of a continual solicited and forc'd Appetite , with those former remember'd satisfactions of a homely and common Diet , prepar'd by chearful and wholsom Labor , and preceded by due Abstinence , and a sutable kind and natural Appetite ? On the other side , Has any thing bin more known , than the instances of People bred to a Life and Diet just the contrary , us'd never to wait , but to prevent Appetite , and accustom'd to contend with an almost perpetual Society ; who when by accident or choice they came to fall into that other more natural course of Life , or but for a while ( as on a journey , or a day of hunting ) came to experience once the satisfaction had from the plainest Food , have afterwards with freedom own'd , that it was then that they receiv'd the greatest contentment and delight of that sort , and such as was infinitly above what arose from all those studi'd Pleasures of variety and excess ? It is plain , that by pressing on and urging Nature thus , and by forcing continually the Appetite and Sense , the keeness and edg of those natural Sensations are by degrees lost : and tho by vice and habit the same things may be sought after with equal violence as before ; tho the impatience of being without them may be greater and greater ; yet the joy in having them is lessen'd and brought almost to nothing . The accompanying Palls and Nauseautings which continually intervene , are of the worst and most hateful sensation that can be ; and hardly is there at last any thing tasted wholly free from something of this ill relish and untoward feeling : So that instead of a constant and flowing delight to be reckon'd upon as belonging to this State ; the State it self is a perpetual Sickness or Infirmity , a corruption of Pleasure , and cannot so much as admit of any thorow kind , natural , and agreeable sensation , even of the very sort of those it so earnestly seeks and aspires to with such eagerness . AS to the Consequences of such a pernicious greediness , and excessive desire towards Indulgence of this sort ; how fatal to the Body , and to the health and vigor of the manly Frame ; how ruinous by Diseases , such as are the most tormenting , and of the acutest pain and longest duration ; all this needs scarce to be repeated : Nor how on the other side , the reverse of this , a temperate Life , and Desires moderated , afford every thing so happily contrary , by making Life so much more lasting , vigorous , and so infinitly more delightful , and of more pleasing inward sensation and lively feeling , proper always to that full healthiness of a temperate State ; as a contrary Torpor and heavy wearydness is proper to a debauch'd State , and is spread still through the Senses of one used to continual excess . AS to the Consequences with respect to the Mind , the difference here between Temperance and Intemperance ; which of the two is the most thriving state for the Mind , and which injurious and destructive , is superfluous to mention . Nor needs it be told , that as there is a vigor and alacrity gain'd to the Mind by temperance , so in the very practice of what is thus beneficial both to the Body and Mind , and advantageous so many other ways besides , there is a peculiar Joy and Satisfaction . THE Consequences as to Interest are plain enough . The misery of such a state of impotence and unforbearance , whilst it subjects us to the lowest and meanest carriage and dependence , as well as to all profusion , to all irregularity and extravagance of Conduct ; the Injuries too , which even knowingly they do themselves , who out of an impotence of this sort , and an impossibility of restraint , forbear not what even they themselves declare they know to be destructive to them ; all this , and more of this nature is obvious enough . And from less than what has bin said , it would be easy to conclude , That to have this violent love , this luxurious and high desire towards the sort of pleasure mention'd , is to be highly inconvenienc'd and prejudic'd as to Interest , happiness of Life , and enjoyment of real Pleasure . NOW as to those other excesses of the self-Passions , such as mention'd , as of regard towards the outward conveniences of Life ( which in an extreme degree is Covetousness or Avarice ) and that of inclination and good liking towards what is of Reputation and Authority ( of which the extreme is Ambition and Vanity ) how far the first of these A COVETING OR AVARITIOUS TEMPER is miserable , needs not that one should go about to explain . Who is there that knows not how little a Portion that is , which is agreed by all to be sufficient for a man's single use and convenience ? And how much may even this be reduc'd still , and brought into a narrower compass , if all superfluity being cut off , Temperance and a natural Life were follow'd with near that application and earnestness that Sumptuousness and Luxury is practis'd by some , and studi'd as an Art or Science ? Now where Temperance is found thus advantageous , and the Practice as well as the Consequences of it so pleasing and happy , there is little need to mention any thing of the miseries attending those covetous and eager desires after things that have no bounds or rule , as being out of Nature , beyond which there can be no limits or moderation set to Desire . For where shall we once stop when we are over this , when we are no longer contain'd within the bounds of Nature ? How shall we any way fix or ascertain a thing wholly unnatural and unreasonable ? Or what method or regulation shall we set to Excess or exorbitant Fancy , in adding Expence to Expence , or Possession to Possession ? Hence that natural restlesness of coveting and eager Minds , in whatever state or degree of Fortune they are plac'd ; there being no thorow or real satisfaction , but a kind of natural insatiableness belonging to this condition , whence it comes that Injoyment is hinder'd : since it is impossible that there should be any real enjoyment but of what is in consequence of natural and just Appetite . Nor do we readily call that an Enjoyment of Wealth or of Honor , when through Covetousness or Ambition , the Desire is still forwards , and rests not as satisfi'd with its gains . But of this vice of Covetousness , and the misery of it ( especially of that sort which is mere Avarice ) there is enough said in the world ; and in our common way of speaking , a covetous and a miserable Temper has often but one and the same meaning . NEITHER is there less known or said as to the ills of that other aspiring Temper , and the self-torments of a swoln PRIDE and AMBITION ; which would be indeed but little felt in the World , if those Passions were as much fought against and controul'd within , as they are condemn'd abroad , and own'd by every body to be unfortunat and tormenting . But when one considers the ease , happiness , and the thousand advantages and securities which attend a satisfied Temper , a free and easy Spirit , such as can be accommodated on easy terms , is fitted to Society and Fellowship , and can sute it self with any reasonable circumstances ; it will not be necessary any further to suggest the excellence and good of Moderation , and the mischief and self-injury of immoderat Desires , and of a Mind that covets eagerly Fame , Honor , Superiority , or Power . THIS too is obvious in this place , that as the Desires of this kind are rais'd and become impatient , so the aversions and fears of the contrary side grow in proportion strong and violent , and the Temper more subject to apprehensions from all events , and more uncapable of bearing the least repulse or ordinary loss or disappointment . And thus all quiet , rest and security as to what is future , and all peace , contentedness and ease as to what is present , is forfeited by having Desires of this kind , and by having Appetites thus swelling and immoderat . THERE is a Temper which is oft-times consider'd as in opposition to these eager and aspiring Aims of which we have been speaking ; not that it excludes the Passions either of Covetousness or Ambition , but that it is the hindrance of their Effects ; and that by soothing of the Mind , and softning it into an EXCESSIVE LOVE OF REST AND INDOLENCE , it makes the attempts of those Passions to be impracticable , and renders the difficulties of their painful and laborious course towards Wealth and Honors to be insuperable . Now tho an inclination towards Ease , a love of moderate repose and rest from Action , be as natural and useful to us as that inclination we have towards Sleep ; and that to want such an inclination would be in the same manner an Ill , as if we had not at proper times a strong and pressing inclination to sleep ; yet notwithstanding this , an excessive love of Rest , and a contracted hatred and aversion towards Action or Employment , must be greatly injurious , and be a disease in the Mind equal to that of a Lethargy in the Body , and no less destructive of it by keeping it in a perpetual dulness and in-action , than the other , by keeping it in a perpetual slumber . How much this of Action or Exercise is necessary for the Body , let it be judg'd by the difference we find in the Constitutions that are accustom'd , and those that are wholly strangers to it ; and by the different Health and Complexion which Labor and due Exercise create , in comparison with that habit of Body which we see consequent to an indulg'd state of Indolence and Rest . It is pleasing to observe what eager and impatient appetite towards Exercise Nature has given to Youth of all kinds , in that desire of Play , which is no other than the instigation or incitement of Nature to such an extraordinary motion of the Body as is at that time chiefly requisit . Afterwards , when grown up , and no longer in their Parents but their own care ; when the subjects of labor increase , and self-defence , self-maintenance , search of Food , and Venery , the consequent charge of the young , and other Affairs begin to give them Imployment in abundance ; then is Ease and Quiet more injoy'd , and love of Rest increas'd , as Toil and Business increase , and the vigor and eagerness of Youth abates . But where through a corruption of Nature , Sloth and Laziness is ingendred : where it is contracted as a Habit that slackens and enervates the Mind , and infeebles , and as it were dissolves the Body ; it is not only ruinous of the body's Health , and destructive in the end , or by its consequences ; but the immediate feeling of it , and the sensation it self becomes no other than a lingring , drooping Pain and heavy Oppression : it being impossible this way ever to feel ( as those who live naturally ) either the sprightly joy of vigorous and manly Exercise , or the succeding Refreshment , and the Pleasures of a natural and wholsom Rest after due Labor and Imployment . So that in the room of the Pleasures of a double kind that are thus parted with , there is nothing gain'd but a dull and heavy feeling more weighty and tiresom than any Labor whatsoever ; a sort of languishing Disease prejudicial to all other enjoyments of a vigorous and healthy Sense , and injurious both to the Body and to the Mind : in which latter it is the occasion of worse disturbance , and of a more immediate spreading Corruption ; for however the Body may hold out , it is impossible that the Mind in which the Distemper is seated , can escape without an immediate Affliction and Disorder . The Habit begets a tediousness and anxiety which infects the whole Temper , and is the occasion of converting this unnatural Rest into an unhappy sort of activity , such as that of vexatiousness , ill humor , and a preying active Spleen . And in the same manner as in the Body , where no Labor or natural Exercise being us'd , the Spirits that want their due imployment prey upon the Body , and find work for themselves in a destructive way ; so in a Mind unexercis'd , and which languishes and faints for want of due action , the Passions which should have an equal and apt Imployment , and be taken up in a settled Application to some sit work and business in Life , being thus cut off from their course of action , find work themselves , and turning inwards , raise disquiet in the Mind , and an eagerness and irritation in the Temper , which becomes loosen'd towards Passion , is render'd more impotent , more incapable of Moderation , and like prepar'd fuel , is made apt to take fire by the least spark . Thus therefore by reason of the injuries that this Habit brings both to the Body and to the Mind , and to the Pleasure and real Ease of both ; it is plain , That to have this overgreat inclination towards Rest , this slothful , soft or effeminate Temper , averse to Labor and Imployment , is to have an unavoidable mischief and attendent plague . AS to Interest , how far it is here concern'd , how wretched that state is , which by this habit a man is placed in towards all the circumstances and affairs of Life , when at any time he is call'd to action ; how subjected he must be to all inconveniences wanting to himself , and depriv'd of the assistance of others ; whilst being unfit for all offices and duties of Society , he yet of any other person most needs the help of Society , as being least able to assist or support himself ; all this is obvious , and need not to be explained . THERE remains still one Passion more to speak of , which yet we can scarcely call a self-passion , since the sole end of it is the good and advantage of the Kind . But whereas all other social or natural Affections are join'd only with a mental Pleasure , and sounded in a Kindness and Love only ; this has more added to it , and is join'd with a pleasure of Sense , and a necessity in some degree of indulging the Appetite which is towards it , for the ease and welfare of the Creature . And tho the necessity be not absolute here , as in the cases of eating , drinking , rest and sleep ; yet to abstain wholly from the use of VENERY ( which is that we are speaking of ) can hardly be without the sufferance of the Body in some degree : nor can the prejudice to the Constitution be absolutely avoided , without the assistance of Art , and a method and rule of Living , as is observable even in the Female Sex ; where notwithstanding the toil and sufferance of breeding and bearing the young , the natural consequences are rather worse to the Constitution from being totally witheld , and never serving to that use and design of Nature , tho through so much Labor and Fatigue . Such concern , therefore , and care has Nature shewn for the support and maintenance of the several Species , that by an Indigence and a kind of Necessity which we are thus cast in , it is made an immediate Self-interest to us , with respect to our bodily state , to work towards the propagation of our Kind . The Passion therefore which carries us to this service and good to our Species , is made as it were a Self-passion , and is accompanied not only with an affection of kindness and love towards the Female , but with a desire of self-ease , and towards what is of use to the privat animal Nature , and a satisfaction and indulgence of Sense . NOW whether or no it be the interest and good of the Animal to have this indigence and need beyond a natural and ordinary degree , and to have this Appetite towards Venery more eager , impatient , and more extended than of course it usually is in Nature , where no additional incitement or provocation is used ; this is what we may consider . HAVING said already so much concerning natural and unnatural Appetite above , there needs less to be said in this place . If it be allow'd that to all other Pleasures there is a measure of Appetite belonging , which cannot be exceeded but with prejudice to the Creature , even in his very capacity of enjoying Pleasure : and if to have either a ravenous Appetite , such as is a Disease , and has a peculiar name ; or to have that other sort of exorbitant Appetite ( no less properly call'd a Disease ) which we see in the Luxurious , be both of them unfortunate , and of prejudice even to the very right enjoyment of the Pleasures deriv'd from those Senses , it will hardly be thought that there is no limit , bound , or certain measure of this other Appetite towards Venery : as if this were independent of Nature , and might extend to Infinite , and still be the occasion of greater and greater Pleasure ; which is too great an absurdity to go about to confute . There are other sorts of ardent Sensations and eager Incitements of Flesh , which we accidentally sometimes experience in our selves , and which are acceptable perhaps whilst in a certain degree ; but which as they increase , grow intolerable . Even Laughter provok'd by Titillation , grows an excessive pain , tho it retains still in a great degree the same features of delight and pleasure . And altho in the case of that particular kind of Itch which belongs to a Distemper that has its name from that effect , there are some found so sensually inclin'd , that they esteem the continual allaying of that Ardor , however eager and fierce , to be acceptable and delightful , yet it would hardly be reputed so amongst the more refin'd sort , even of those who make sensual Pleasure a study . Now if there be a certain height , a certain pitch or degree of the other Ardor , which by being further advanc'd , is so much less consistent with the pleasure of that Sensation , and is rather a sort of rage and sury ( like that which is rais'd by certain poisonous Medicaments and Incentives to Lust ; ) and since there is a necessity of stopping somewhere , and fixing some Boundary , where can that possibly be done but where regard is had to Nature , beyond which there is no measure or rule of things ? Now Nature may be known from that which we see of the natural state of Creatures , and of Man , when unprejudiced by unnatural provocation and youthful incitements of a vicious Education . Where it happens that we see any one bred to a natural Life , inured to honest industry and sobriety , and unaccustom'd to any thing immoderate or intemperate ; it appears always that such a one as this , when at full age , has his desires and inclinations of this sort at command , and no ways enflam'd , till by force upon himself , and by giving into debauch and excess , he strains and widens his Appetite to a new and unnatural degree . But if such excesses are never us'd , the Desires contain themselves in their just limits . But when we reflect upon what is customary to almost all the Youth of human kind , especially of those who are above the laboring sort , and at what early years they are familiariz'd to the licentiousness of this Passion ; when we consider to what Obscenities the ears of our Youth are accustom'd ; how their Inclinations are vitiated , and every day fed ; and what practices are us'd to urge and precipitate Nature ; we need not find it strange that men are so corrupted , and their Appetites so exasperated and enflam'd to such a degree beyond all natural temperature . All other Creatures in the world are for their orderliness in this , a reproach to Man ; since they , of what kind soever they are , have regular and proportion'd Appetites , and have the use of Venery according to fit and proper Seasons and Subjects ; whilst Man alone knows neither season , nor bound , nor fitness of Subject , but breaks into all horridness of unnatural and monstrous Lusts , regarding neither Sex nor Species ( tho of this latter the Instances are less common : ) and all this through that inflammation of the Desire and Appetite , which , being swell'd beyond a natural size , cannot be answer'd by plain and natural means . So that neither ought it to be thought strange , if what has bin said in relation to that of Meats and Drinks , be said to hold good , and be the same in this : and that altho such an abandon'd indulgence as this is sure to bring a greater indigence and need on the Body , and fix a greater lust and cravingness in the mind ; yet this is so far from resembling natural Appetite ( which by being greater , is the occasion still of greater Pleasure ) that the more these excessive Desires are thus encreas'd , and the unnatural Appetite fomented , the less is there of a real pleasant Sensation , and the more mixture there is of Allay . For thus , as we have shewn already , a Sensation which seems to hold all of Pleasure , often by a small and almost imperceptible extension runs into Pain , and grows insufferable . So nearly bordering and related are these two things , even so as to be almost confounded with one another , which yet are really so distinct , and in appearance so very contrary . But on the other side therefore , by due abstinence , and more moderate use , the Pleasure spoken of is much clearer , and more enjoy'd . So that were both these Sensations to be compar'd , that of a virtuous Course which belong'd to one who liv'd a natural and regular Life , and that of a vicious Course which belong'd to one who was relax'd and dissolute ; there is no question but it would be pronounc'd in favor of the former , without regard to Consequences , and with respect only to the very pleasure of Sense perceiv'd from hence : For it would be found , that a Man thus superior to his Appetites of this kind , had yet no less a share of satisfaction from them in that more sparing use , nor less pleasurable enjoyment in the whole , than he who liv'd in a manner only in the service of these Appetites , and who indulging the most that could be to this Sense , and seeking a perpetual support in it , had nothing else to do but to force and solicit Nature to the highest degree , and struggle against a perpetual Satiety , and against the heavy and dull intervals of a surfeited Sense , and of a Mind and Body unnaturally held , and as it were benum'd , and drooping in this imprisonment and restraint from other natural Action . As for the other Sex ; altho there be less of this satiated feeling experienc'd perhaps in them , yet they having once abandon'd themselves , are capable of the same inconstancy and desire of change , as being weari'd of the present . But it is enough to say of this Sex , that having once forsaken modesty , and given scope to their Desire and Appetite , beyond a duly restrain'd temperat and honest way , they grow insatiable and monstrous , and fall into a state which even they themselves , till grown into it , detest and think horrid . AS to the Consequences of this Vice with respect to the Body ( the health and constitution of which is so much impair'd , and so often wholly destroy'd by it ) there is no need to mention any thing . THE Injuries it dos to the Mind , tho less notic'd , are yet in proportion much greater than those which the Body suffers . The prejudice to the Parts and Intellect , the wretched wast of time , the effeminacy , sloth , supiness engender'd ; the disorder , loosness , and impotence of a thousand Passions , through such a relaxation and enervating of the Mind ; all these are the effects of this Vice , and are apparent when but reflected on . NOR is it less apparent how much is suffer'd as to Interest , and to what multipli'd Inconveniences he is subject , who is under the power of such a Passion as this . What irregularity of Life , and disturbance of Affairs ; what Animosity , War , and Contention must he undergo , who is thus addicted , and who has this temper to such excess , as to be a Rage possessing him , and ruling his Conduct ? What trust or dependence is there on one of such a Character and Fame ? And how must such a Person stand with respect to Friends , Relations , the public and general Society of Mankind , in an ordinary way of living and conversing ? On the other side ; how fair and recommending is the contrary character and habit of Virtue and Continence ? How advantageous to all Oeconomy , and management of privat and public Affairs , in all the duties and offices of Friendship , and of a civil Life ? How promotive of Society , and conducing to all ease , prosperity , commodious and happy living ? THUS have we consider'd of those which we may call self-Passions ; and what the effect is of having them beyond a moderat degree ; which when they once exceed , when once grown imperious and high , are the occasion that a Creature is mean and low , are the ground of that which we call selfishness , so much detested in Creatures . Tho yet it be the misfortune of some men , in their way of reasoning upon these Subjects , not to reckon upon such Selfishness as a real ill , or a misfortune , except only so far as it happens to be known and mark'd , as a just object of peoples aversion , and of the contemt and hatred of mankind ; not as if in it self it did imply any misery or disease : whereas there can be nothing so miserable in it self , and so wretched in its Consequence , as to be thus impotent in temper , thus master'd by passion , and to serve such a slavery to things of such mean and wretched dependence , and from the contemt of which the greatest satisfaction and self-enjoyment arises , and all generosity and magnanimity depends . It is by such a slavery as this that we lose at last all true Esteem both with our selves and others ; that we lose all Character , Authority and Respect ; that we disagree and are at perpetual variance with our selves as we alternatly serve and submit to these opposit Affections , so inconsistent with one another , and so utterly irreconcilable : and it is by this that we lose even the faculties of our Minds , which can never be so inlarg'd , and in such a way of improvement towards Knowledg , as in conjunction with Temperance , where there is a constant attention and obedience to Reason practised and establish'd ; and where , in the same manner as the Body by good use is fitted to its proper exercise , so the Mind is render'd apt and dispos'd by right Disciplin and Rule to its proper Exercises and Imployment . BUT besides what we have mention'd of the privat Ill and self-Injury of every such self-Passion in particular ; all these irregular and vitious Affections have this necessary effect in general , that they are ruinous also of the natural Affections , and by making them give place , by long suppressing and controling them , must at length sink and destroy them . As indeed who is there that knows not , and is not ready to own , that a Creature who is in a way of growing every day more selfish , and of having those Passions still in a higher degree , is in a certain and unfailing way of growing more and more unnatural , unkind , unaffectionate , and more out of all friendly and social Feeling ? Who knows not that by the increase of selfishness , and of that subtilty and feignedness of carriage which it brings along with it , the candor and ingenuity of our Natures , the ease and freedom of our Minds must be forfeited ; all trust and confidence in others , familiarity , inwardness , and heartiness with others must be in a manner lost ; and suspicions , jealousies , hatred and enmity succeed , and be in the room ? Besides , a Creature us'd to Reflection , who by an ill use of Reason confirms himself in selfishness , and who in a settled manner is come to think it to be his good not to allay or correct , but to indulge and satisfy such Appetites as these , must by certain consequence industriously strive to silence and check his natural and good Affections , those that would carry him to the good of his Kind , and of Society , against the interest which he conceives he has elsewhere and in a contrary way . And this must work to the subversion of all good Affection in him , and to the forming of a profligate , inhuman and savage Nature . Now if these Passions , besides what other ill they are the occasion of , are withal the occasion and means of destroying and loosening the natural Affections ; then , by what has bin prov'd before , they must be the certain means of losing us the chief and best enjoyment of Life , and consequently too ( as has bin prov'd ) of making us to incur those horrid and unnatural Passions , and that savageness of Temper which makes the greatest of Miseries and the most wretched State , as we are going in this next place to make appear . SO that we have seen thus , how that by a wrong balance in the Affections of this sort , and BY HAVING THESE SELF-AFFECTIONS TOO INTENSE OR STRONG , A CREATURE IS MISERABLE . III. THE Passions that are now left to speak of , are those that carry neither to a public nor a privat good , and are founded neither in any advantage to the Species nor to the Self-system : for were there no such Passions as these , what then could be the meaning of THAT UNNATURAL AND BARBAROUS DELIGHT IN BEHOLDING TORMENTS , and in viewing those spectacles of Horror with that satisfaction and joy which is sometimes known , and which has bin the reigning Passion of many Tyrants , and barbarous Nations ? To see the sufferance of an Enemy with cruel delight , may be from the height of Anger , Revenge , Fear , and other extended Self-passions : but to delight in the torture and pain of other Creatures indifferently , of Slaves , of such as are unknown ; to feed upon Death and dying Agonies ; this has nothing in it accountable in the way we have bin speaking , but is wholly unnatural , as being of a kind of which not the least degree can be said to aim at , or tend to the good or interest of the particular Creature , and much less of the Species , or of Society . THERE is another Affection nearly related to this , which is a gay and frolicsom Delight in what is injurious to others ; a sort of WANTON MISCHIEVOUSNESS and Pleasure in what is destructive ; a Passion which instead of being restrain'd , is usually incourag'd in Children : so that it is no wonder if the effects of it are very unfortunatly felt in the World. For I think it will be hard for any one to give a reason why the same Temper that was wont to delight in disorder and ravage when in a Nursery , should not afterwards find delight in other disturbances and imbroils , and be the author of as much mischief in privat Families , amongst Friends , and in the Public . But of this Passion there is no foundation in Nature according to that sense above explain'd . MALICE or ILL-WILL , such as is grounded on no self-consideration , and where there is no subject of Anger or Jealousy , nor nothing to provoke or cause such a desire of doing ill to another ; this also is of that kind of Passion . ENVY too , when it is such as arises from the Prosperity or Happiness of another Creature no ways interfering with ours , is also of this kind of Passion . THERE is also amongst these , a sort of HATRED OF MANKIND AND SOCIETY ; a Passion which has bin known perfectly reigning in some men , and has had a peculiar * name given it . WE may add likewise to the number of these , all those Passions which are rais'd from SUPERSTITION ( as mention'd before ) and from the custom and usage of barbarous Countries ; all which are too horrid and odious in themselves to need any proof of their being miserable . THERE might be other Passions nam'd , as that of BESTIALITY , and of another sort of perversion of the venereal Appetite within our own Species ; which are both of them in the same manner unnatural : of the misfortune of which depravity of Appetite we need not speak , after what has bin already said on that subject . SUCH as these are the only Passions we can strictly call unnatural , tho there are others which are indeed so much beyond the common bent of any Self-passion , that tho they may have their foundation thence , and be deriv'd from several of those combin'd ; yet they so exceed all ordinary Appetite of that kind , and are so directly opposit to all natural Affection , that they are called and may be reckon'd unnatural and monstrous : for instance , such an ENORMOUS PRIDE or AMBITION , as that which would willingly leave nothing eminent , nothing free , nothing prosperous in the World besides ; such an ANGER as would sacrifice every thing to it self ; such a REVENGE as is never to be extinguish'd , nor ever satisfied but with the greatest Cruelties ; such an INVETERACY and RANCOR as seeks , as it were , occasion to exert it self , and lays hold of the least subject , so as often to make the weight of that malevolent Passion fall even upon those who are mere objects of Pity and Compassion . These are in that other sense unnatural : and of these therefore we may speak in conjunction with those others , since they are such as join with those to make up that horrid and monstrous State above describ'd . IT may be said here , that these Passions , unnatural as they are , carry still a sort of pleasure with them ; and that however barbarous a Pleasure it be , yet still it is a pleasure and satisfaction which is found in that of Pride , of Tyranny , of Revenge , of Malice , or of Cruelty exerted . Now if it be possible in nature , that any one can feel a barbarous or malitious Joy of this sort but as in consequence of the perfectest of Tortures ( that of a rancorous and malignant Disposition ) then may this perhaps be call'd Pleasure and Enjoyment , like those pleasures of the Body which depend still upon some preceding uneasiness . But if to love , and to be kind , to have natural Affection , Complacency , Good-will , be in its own nature Happiness ; and be as it were original Joy and Delight , as depending on no preceding pain or uneasiness perceptible , and as operating to Pleasure and Joy only ; and that on the other side , Hatred , Animosity and Bitterness , be always original Misery and Anguish , always operating to Ill , and never producing any satisfaction , but as that Torture and Inflammation is as it were cool'd and respited by something that looks like success in the fulfilling of the horrid desire and monstrous Appetite attending this Affection ; then is the barbarous Delight improperly call'd Satisfaction or Pleasure ; or if it must be call'd so , it is of the same nature in the Mind , as that pleasure in the Body which ( as we had occasion to say before ) is owing to Racks , Wheels , and other engins of Torture , or to the acutest Diseases which admit of sudden intervals . However strong therefore these Pleasures may be said to be , they do but the more imply the misery of that State which produces them . For as the cruellest bodily pains do by intervals of Asswagement , produce the highest of that sort of bodily Pleasure thence rais'd ; so the fiercest and most raging torments of this sort in a Mind , are those which by certain moments of Relief , afford the greatest of those seeming mental Injoyments . If those who know but little of this untoward disposition , and who are most easy in their Temper , find themselves however but too sensible of what happens to them in a way of Disgrace or Injury ; if even these better Tempers are acquainted with the heavy disturbances which small occasions are apt to give ; if they know the weighty pressure of an ill Humor ( tho such as comes but seldom ) and the ill moments that are passed when the Temper is thus unquiet , fretted , or ever so little gall'd or diseas'd ; if this be in reality so great a sore , and so great a part of thorow Misery ; after what rate then must they be miserable who hardly know any better hours in Life , and who for the most part are agitated by a more active Spleen , a closer , bitterer Malignancy and passion of Hatred ? How lively must be the sense of every thwarting and controling Accident ? How great must be the shocks of Disappointment , the stings of Affront , the gripes and gnawings of a working Antipathy and strong Hatred , at either the real or fancied presence of the Objects that give offence ? Nor can it therefore be wondred at , if to such Persons as these who are thus oppressed , thus agitated and wrought , it seems a high and exquisit Delight to appease and allay for the while these furious and rough Motions , by an indulgence of their passion in Mischief and Revenge . BUT now are we come to that which is easiest of proof , that which indeed scarce needs an Explanation ; for who is there but knows that to hate , to be envious , to be enrag'd , to carry Bitterness and Malice , is to suffer ? This it is which we properly call Displeasure ; and to conceive Hatred or Displeasure , is all one as to conceive Pain , Anxiety , Misery . Whosoever has ill meaning , and an inclination or appetite to do hurt , it is through hatred thus conceiv'd , and through brooding passions of this rancorous kind . Now whoever hates , whoever is angry , or feels rancor , is wounded , distress'd , aggriev'd ; this cannot be otherwise in its own nature . So that whoever has ill will , and is carried to the injury , harm or sufferance of others , suffers within himself , and carries a wound within : and where the Passions of this horrid kind are deeply infixt , there the Heart is ulcerated , the Wound kept open and not cured ; and the horridest of Tortures are thus made perpetual . NOW as to one who has in this manner lost all what we call Nature , and who has these horrid Affections ; how such a one as this must stand towards the Society of Mankind , and how he feels himself in it , as conscious of his Affections towards others , and of what the Affections of others must be towards him , this is easily conceiv'd . What enjoyment , or what rest is there for him who is not conscious of the merited Affection or Love of any human Soul ; but on the contrary is conscious of merited Hatred , not only from every fellow-Creature , but from every thing in the universal Nature ? What ground of horror and despair ? what foundation of fear and continual apprehension from Mankind , and from superior Powers , when ever any such are credited , or but suspected ? How thorow and deep must that Melancholy be , where there is nothing softning or pleasing from the side of Friendship to allay or divert it when once risen ; no flattering view or prospect of that chearful and reviving sort , not so much as from the fancy or imagination of kindness or affection from any part ; but where every thing around is gastly and horrid , every thing in appearance hostile , and , as it were , bent against a privat and single being , who is divided from , and at war with the rest of Nature , in a disagreement and irreconciliation with every thing , and with the Order and Government of the Universe ? 'T is thus at last that a Mind becomes a Wilderness where all is laid waste , every thing fair and goodly remov'd , and nothing extant but what is dismal and horrid . Now if any thing that but looks like desert , or that feels like banishment or expulsion from human Commerce , be so heavy to bear ; what must it be to be thus estranged from Mankind , and to be after this manner in a Desert , and in the horridest of Solitudes , even when in the midst of Society ; and to live with Mankind as with a foren Species , and as with those Creatures that are most remote from Man , and such as he has the most cause to fear ? Were we to form a Hell in our Imaginations , we could by nothing so well represent it , as by those Terrors , Despondences , and Horrors which attend this dark state of a Mind revolted from Nature , in no concord or unity with any thing , but every way desperate ; viewing its own deformity and disagreement ; and as conscious of universal ill merit , so conscious of universally merited hatred , and punishment accordingly due , and ever to be expected from every hand . AND thus therefore it appears that the greatest of Miseries is that State which is consequent to the loss of natural Affection ; and THAT TO HAVE THOSE HORRID , MONSTROUS , AND UNNATURAL AFFECTIONS , IS TO BE MISERABLE IN THE HIGHEST DEGREE . CONCLVSION . THUS have we endeavour'd to prove what was propos'd in the beginning . And since in the common understood sense of Vice and Illness , no one can be vicious or ill , but either , 1. BY the deficiency or weakness of natural Affections ; 2. OR by the violence of selfish ones ; 3. OR by having those unnatural ones that carry to no end either in the privat or public System : IT must follow that if each of these are pernicious and destructive to the Creature , insomuch that his completest state of Misery is made from hence ; TO BE ILL OR VITIOUS , IS , AND MUST BE EVER , TO BE MISERABLE AND UNHAPPY . AND since every vitious Action must more or less in proportion help towards this Mischief and Self-ill , it must follow , THAT EVERY VITIOUS ACTION MUST BE OF SELF-ILL , AND NEVER BUT BE TO THE INJURY AND SUFFERANCE OF THE CREATURE . FOR , whatsoever is committed or done , that either goes immediatly to the impairing of the unnatural Affections ; or to the promoting of the unnatural ones ; or to the widening and extending of the self-Passions , by an encouragement of those Lusts which overturn all order of Life , and are as much enemies to the ease and pleasure of the Body , as to that of the Mind ; this must ever be esteemed injurious , and against the greatest Interest which a Creature can possibly have . For how can there be an indulgence of those irregular Appetites , without a greater inflammation of them ? And how can such an Inflammation work , but to the disorder of the Soul , and to the corrupting of sound and natural Enjoyment , even in a way of Sense , as well as to the corruption of the Affections , the dissolution of the Temper , and the distortion , rack and misery of the Mind ? Which way therefore can it be said , that any one thorow self-Interest can act either vitiously or unsociably ; since to do any thing through an imagination of self-Interest or Pleasure , that is contrary to natural or social Affection , or out of the just limits of natural Appetite and self-Inclination , is and must be of self-Injury , to that degree as has bin shewn ? THUS have we computed , in the best manner we were able , the Good and Interest of Mankind , by enumerating and casting up all those Particulars from whence , as by way of Addition or Subtraction , that Sum or general Account of Man's Interest or Happiness in Life , is either swell'd or diminish'd : so that the method here taken may perhaps for this reason be call'd a sort of Moral Arithmetic , and be said to have an evidence as great as may be found in Numbers , and equal to Mathematical Demonstration . For it seems to us , that there has not bin any degree of certainty wanting in what has bin said concerning the preferableness of the mental Pleasures to sensual ; and even of the sensual ones accompani'd with good Affection , and under a temperate and right use , to those sensual ones that are no ways restrain'd , and are supported by nothing social or affectionat . Nor is that ( as we conceive ) less just and real , which has bin said of the united Structure and Fabric of the Mind , and of those Passions which constitute the Temper or Soul , and on which its happiness or misery so immediatly depends . It has bin shewn , that in this Constitution the impairing of any one part must go to the disorder and ruin of other parts , and of the whole , through the necessary connexion and balance of the Affections ; that those very Passions through which men are vitious , are of themselves a Torment and Disease ; and that whatsoever is done that is knowingly ill , must be of ill consciousness , and must in proportion , as the Act is ill , impair and corrupt social Affection and Enjoyment , and destroy both the capacity of kind Affection , and the consciousness of meriting any such : so that neither can we in a manner participate thus in Joy or Happiness with others , or receive satisfaction from the expressed kindness and love of others ; on which however the greatest of all our Pleasures are founded . If this be so , and that the state which is consequent to this defection , and which immediatly succeeds to the loss or ruin of natural Affection and Integrity , be a state of all others the most horrid , oppressive , and miserable ; then it will appear , that to yield or consent to any thing ill or immoral , is a breach of Interest , and leads to the greatest Ills : And that on the other side , Every thing that is an improvement of Virtue , and that is establishing to right Affection and Integrity , is an advancement of Interest , and leads to the greatest and most solid happiness and enjoyment of Life . THUS the Wisdom of what rules , and is FIRST and CHIEF in Nature , has made it to be according to the privat Interest and Good of every Creature , to work towards the general Good ; which if that Creature ceases to promote , and to be useful to , he in so far ceases to be kind and useful to himself , and is his own Enemy , as being no longer good to himself than whilst he is such as to be good also to Society , and to that whole of which he is a part . So that VIRTUE , which of all Excellences and Beauties is the chiefest and most amiable ; that which is the Prop and Ornament of human Affairs , which upholds Societies , maintains Union , Friendship and Correspondence amongst men ; that by which Countries , as well as privat Families , flourish and are happy ; and for want of which every thing comly , conspicuous , great , and worthy amongst Mankind , must perish and go to ruin ; that single Quality , thus glorious in its effects , and of this good to all Society , and to Mankind in general , is , after this manner , equally a Happiness and a Blessing to each Creature in particular possessing it , and is that by which alone Man can be happy , and without which he can never but be miserable . AND THUS VIRTUE IS THE GOOD , AND VICE THE ILL OF EVERY ONE . THE END . Books lately published . AN Account of the first Voyages and Discoveries made by the Spaniards in America ▪ Containing the most exact Relation hitherto publish'd , of their unparallel'd Cruelties on the Indians , in the destruction of above forty millions of People . With the Propositions offer'd to the King of Spain to prevent the further Ruin of the West-Indies . By Don Barthol ▪ de las Casas , Bishop of Chiapa , who was an Eywitness of their Cruelties . Illustrated with Cuts . To which is added , The Art of Travelling , shewing how a Man may dispose his Travels to the best advantage . Price in Calf 4 s. The Grounds and Occasions of the Controversy touching the Unity of God , &c. The Methods by which it has bin manag'd , and the Means to compose it . With some Account of the late Mr. Thomas Firmin and other Unitarians . By a Divine of the Church of England . Price 12 d. Johannis Clerici Ars Critica , in qua ad studia Linguarum I atinae , Graecae & Hebraicae via munitur ; Veterumque emendandorum , & spuriorum Scriptorum a genuinis dignoscendorum ratio traditur . In 2 Vol. Price 5 s. The Art of Memory . A Treatise useful for all , especially those that are to speak in publick . By Marius D' Assigny B. D. Price 12 d. An Account of the taking of Carthagena by the French , in the Year 1697. Containing all the Particulars of that Expedition , from their first setting out , to their return into Brest . By Monsieur De Pointis , Commander in Chief . Illustrated with a large Copper Plate , describing the Situation of Carthagena and parts adjacent . Done out of French. Will very shortly be publish'd by Sam , Buckley , at the Dolphin over against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet-street . 1698. Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A59472-e350 * Misanthropia .