A Moral Treatise UPON VALOUR, Divided into TWO BOOKS. Translated from the FRENCH.  

LICENCED,  
Aug. 15. 1694. Edw. Cook.   
LONDON, Printed for the Author, Anno Dom. MDCXCIV.   

To His Most Sacred Majesty, WILLIAM III. King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, etc.  
Most Dread Sovereign,  
THose Great Acquests of Glory which ordinarily did attend the Fortune of Alexander, are now, upon a more great and solid Account, become Your Majesty's just Trihute.  
The Insatiable desire of that Illustrious Macedonian, to establish his Great Name in the Memory of the World, was the Chief Cause, by which he made his way through the Credulity of that Age, to the Seat of Jupiter Hamon.  
To be Esteemed less than a Deity, fell short of the Ambition of that Aspiring Monarch: But Your Majesty's Great Soul, of a more Pious Stamp, keeps Touch with the Will of Heaven, and instead of false and flashy Adoration, Your Majesty's utmost Aim is that Distinguishing Glory of being placed (like good King David) in the Throne of Justice.  
Yet, Royal Sir, I hope you will allow the many and indispensable Favours which we daily receive from Your Majesty's Wise Conduct, not only do oblige us to Pay our utmost Acknowledgements, but also to follow You, as another Joshua of the People.  
The many and uncommon benefits which generally accrue from a Magnanimous Prince, to the Welfare of his Subjects, confirm the Affections of the Dutiful, and prevail more than all the Arguments which Reason or Religion can produce to the Conservation of Loyalty.  
To gratify the Ambition of some, Fortune, for a Time, has afforded fresh Laurels, when the chief design of such Aspirers, is only to Embroil the World, and Conquer more upon the Account of their own Vainglory, than the Public Justice.  
But Your Majesty's just Cause, moves in a higher Sphere, and engages Your Royal Person in a War, as well to the Preservation of our Religion, as our Liberties, as if the Two Great Tables of the Law were Engraved on Your Majesties Sword.  
Go forward then, most Sacred Sir, in Your Royal Undertake, and make Your Name as Eternal, as Illustrious, that by each Auspicious Act, the World may see, that while Good Princes Live, the Great Creator of Heaven is their Protector vopn Earth; and when Dead, the World the Preserver of their Memories.  
I am therefore bold, Most Sacred Majesty, to lay the Ensuing Tract at Your Royal Feet, and Dedicate this Translation of True Valour, to Your Gracious Acceptance, in which may plainly be perceived, in Two particular Chapters of the same, tho' Writ several Years since, The true Prophetic Characters of the late King James, and Your Present Majesty; The Subject Matter of which agreeing so exactly with the whole Series of Your Majesty's Life, and which Your Majesty is so well Experienced in, gives me hopes of Your Majesty's Royal Patronage, and encourages this Presumption, of Subscribing myself,  
Your Majesty's most Dutiful, and most Faithful Subject, Samuel Compton.   

A Moral Treatise UPON VALOUR.  

LIB. I.  

CHAP. I.  
Valour is necessary to a Prince, for his Reputation.  
THE First Reason that obligeth Princes to be valiant, is their Reputation. There is no Virtue that makes so great a Figure in the World, nor leaves so great an Impression on Men's Spirits, as this of Valour: And the Esteem that People have for it appears chiefly in Military Discipline: We do not make so narrow an Inspection into the Conduct of Men of other Professions; we do not regard so much whether an Artist is continually in his Shop, whether a Merchant is every Day upon the Exchange, whether a Lawyer constantly attends the Bar, or a Physician waits daily on his Patients: But a Soldier, for the least Failure in his Duty, must undergo Severities. Upon his first Listing himself, he is an Apprentice to War and Danger; and his whole Life is but a continued Succession of Labours and Fatigues. Other Professions one may sometimes neglect, and not be punished for it; we may renounce them, and exchange them for others, or may wholly leave them off, and no Penalty can be inflicted on us: But the least Omission in War passeth for an Offence punishable; and Desertion, for a Capital Crime. An Army is a distinct People from others, and a Realm by itself: Besides the general Laws, they have Laws peculiar to themselves; according to which they inflict the speediest, exactest and severest Justice in the World. This rigorous Exercise that is kept up amongst Soldiers, ariseth from a Consideration we have for them, and from a Maxim which comes very near to that of Plato, when in his Commonwealth he puts this remarkable Difference between Freemen and Slaves, in that he condemns Freemen to Death for Crimes, for which Slaves shall receive a more favourable Chastisement. Some hold, that an Army ranged in Battle is the finest and most noble Spectacle that can be presented to our Eyes: The Pleasure we take in seeing them, ariseth from the high Idea we have of Valour. For, indeed, should we see Troops glistering in their Arms, drawn up in the most regular manner, and abundantly furnished with all those Materials which are requisite for Siege or Battle, and we should at the same time be persuaded that they were Cowards under the Appearance of Soldiers, we should disdain to look upon this vain and useless Mobile; or if we did cast our Eyes upon them, it would be rather to ridicule than admire them.   

CHAP. II.  
The same Reflections continued.  
BUT to carry this Reflection farther, we may consider, that we bestow greater Pains and Cost to incite Men to Valour, than to any of the other Virtues. King's keep those in daily Pay, whom they employ in their Wars: They do not give Money to Men for their Prudence, nor for their Liberality; but they maintain them for being valiant. There are I know not how many Arts subordinate to the Art Military; and a Thousand Sorts of Artificers are employed, to equip a Soldier Cap-ape: One makes him a Sword; another, his Breastplate; a Third, his Head-piece; others there be, that are forging and furbishing his Fire-Arms, (which Antiquity was ignorant of:) Some are employed in making Instruments which may excite his Joy, or raise his Fury; as Drums, Trumpets, and Wind-Musick; whose ravishing Sounds make the most agreeable Harmony. The Manage was invented for the War: And if the Riding-Master train up an Horse of Value, he is designed for the Day of Battle. The Pomp and Flourish of Habits is not comely in any, but Soldiers by Profession: Feathers, Scarves, Gold or Silver-Embroyderies, look great, when worn with a Sword; and a Soldier hath always been allowed these sorts of Ornaments, as Presages of his Triumph. The Branches of the noblest of all Trees are wreathed into Coronets for him; as, the Laurel, (which Thunder seems to reverence;) and the Palmtree, which never bows down to the Earth, but advanceth up ambitiously towards the Sky. We cannot number the different Prizes that the Ancients established, as the Recompense of valiant Actions: There were not only some for Captains and Generals; as, the Sur-names of Countries which they conquered, Trophies, Triumphal Arches, and Triumphs themselves; but there were others for the Common-Soldiers: They bestowed one sort of Crown upon him that first scaled the Walls; they gave another to him who, in the Heat of the Battle, had saved a Roman Citizen: And though the Materials thereof were but common and ordinary, yet they valued them above precious Treasures. A Monarch also takes himself to be honoured, when he is called a Captain; neither doth he despise the Title of a Soldier. To speak properly, Sovereigns have but two Sorts of Professions; to rule their Subjects, and to manage their Wars. The First they teach their own Children; in the Second they instruct their Children, and their Subjects. They take care themselves to form their Troops; they are not ashamed to have the meanest of their Subjects for their Scholars; and the same Mouth that pronounceth Laws to the whole Nation, will give out Orders and Instructions to the raggedest of his Soldiers.   

CHAP. III.  
It is more pleasant to read the Lives of Valiant, than of other Princes.  
WE pronounce the Name of Alexander and Caesar more frequently than those of other Princes. We seem to feel a kind of Interest in their past Fortunes, we fancy ourselves concerned in their Conquests, and to have some Share in their Triumphs; we are charmed with a far greater Pleasure in reading of their Lives, than that of Novelty; we are more delighted to read their Stories over and over again, than that of any other Prince, though but once. Notwithstanding a Thousand Republicans, and Men of Commonwealth-Principles, have endeavoured to palliate the Death of Caesar, with specious Pretences; yet, at this very Day, we cannot but look upon that Act as an Assassination, and regard the Criminals for no less than Parricides: We conspire against them who plotted against him; we abhor those of the Senate that were so cruel; and it is our Opinion, that the unfortunate End of those Conspirators was an Effect of the just Vengeance of Heaven upon them. What Regret have we not also for Alexander, to think he should be removed out of the World at so young an Age? We lament his Death, whether it were violent or natural: We conceive that so great a Courage deserved a longer Life. After he had conquered Asia, we could have wished he had turned his Arms against Europe, (as he designed to do:) We imagine we should have been well pleased to have seen him attack the Romans, who at that Time were making their Advances in Italy, and were laying the Foundation of the most puissant Republic in the World. And that which is here most remarkable, is, we do not cease to admire their Valour, when, at the same Time, we know they have been unfortunate in their Enterprises. Pyrrhus, in many of his Expeditions, met with more Disgraces, than Success: He was despoiled by Lysimachus of the Part which he had in Macedonia: He was forced to abandon Sicily and Italy, after he had spent six Years Time there: He raised the Siege of Lacedaemon, and was slain before that at Argos. Yet, notwithstanding all these Misfortunes, we follow the Conduct of his Exploits with Admiration: We wish his Success had been equal to his Courage; and are sorry that all his Conquests should drop through his Fingers, just as he had caught them with his Hands; and after having vanquished his Enemies, through a Thousand Dangers and Hazards, that he was not so happy as to reap the Fruit of his Victories.   

CHAP. IU.  
The Romans erected Statues to the Honour of Hannibal; and they made all their Statues in a Military Habit.  
WE can allege nothing that can redound more to the Glory of Valour, than what is reported by Pliny; that in Rome itself three Statues were erected to the Honour of Hannibal. So that this implacable Enemy of that Republic had the Monuments of his Glory set up within the Precincts of that City, wherein he had brandished his Terrors; and the Ruin whereof he had solemnly sworn. To this Remark of Pliny, let us add another of Cicero's, who observed that all the Roman Statues were made in a Military Habit. This Custom speaks much to the Praise of Valour; for that they took it up out of Choice, and not out of Necessity. And although amongst the Romans, the same Persons were Magistrates in Time of Peace, as well as Captains in Times of War; yet they did not think it proper to make Choice of any other Habit for their Statues, or to represent them with the Ensigns of Magistracy. In Truth, we cannot say the same of the Grecian Statues; we cannot observe any Preference on the Account of Arms in that Point. The Grecian Heroes had no Habits upon their Statues; either because it was an ancient Custom, which they had in Reverence; or else, that they had a Mind to leave a Liberty to their Engravers to exercise their own Ingenuity, who thereby might better show the utmost Excellency of their Art, in exactly delineating the Proportion and Shapes of Humane Bodies. Graeca res est nihil velare, ac contra Romana thoracas addere.  
SIR, I presume Your Highness will easily pardon me for citing to you a Sentence out of a Latin Author, since you Yourself already so well understand that Language. One Day I had the Happiness to see some of Your Composures; and it was not without Admiration that I considered them: They were so neatly exact, that the severest Critics might desire nothing more: And we may with Truth affirm, that the Progress You have made in Learning, is far above Your Years.   

CHAP. V.  
The Esteem Men have had for Valour appears by the Names which the Greeks and Latins have given to it; and also, by that we have given it in our own Language.  
YOU have then observed, (SIR) that the Latins, by the Word Virtue, particularly understand Valour; as if they conceived Valour was the only Virtue, or, at least, the Virtue by way of Excellency. Besides, some have thought, probably enough, that this Word is derived from a Name which signifies Man, Virtus à Viro. The like Etymology is plainly evident in the Greek Tongue; which not only gives the general Name of Virtue to Valour, in calling it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; but they also called it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; to let us understand, that in this a Man may behold his true Character; and that he is unworthy to bear the Name of a Man, who is defective in Courage. But neither the Greeks nor Latins have dignified this Virtue with so honourable a Name, as that by which we render it in our Language. Is it not a remarkable Thing, that we have appropriated to it the very Name by which we use to express the Price or Worth of Things? As much as to let us understand, that Men are valuable, more or less, according to the Proportion of their Courage; and that Valour is the only Fountain of Merit.   

CHAP. VI  
We love the Image of Valour in other Creatures which are hardy.  
THE Lion cannot properly be said to have true Valour, seeing that Valour is a Virtue, and Virtue belongs only to Reasonable Creatures. Yet Valour is so amiable, that we love its very Image and Appearance in the Brute: And we speak of the Lion with a kind of awful Esteem: We attribute to him Actions of Generosity; we say, he will not insult over a vanquished Enemy, that he will pardon them whom he hath brought under the Power of his Clutches: We say, when he sees himself in danger to be overpowered by a Multitude, he will not flee away in Disorder, but make seasonable Halts and Turns; he retreats in State, and, as it were, facing his Enemies. When a Man hath distinguished himself by his Bravery, we bestow some Title upon him in our usual Language; but when Eloquence or Poesy thinks to honour an Hero, it compares him to a Lion. France, which hath bred up many Persons who deserve that Appellation, doth not bring forth Lions: But when we know they are brought over from those scorching Climates where they are bred, into our Country, we are curious to go and view them; we consider them with Attention, and a kind of Respect; we take pleasure to see them extend their Claws, with which they can tear Elephants in pieces; we love to hear his Roaring, which has been the Terror of a whole Country. The same may be said of the Eagle: We conceive lofty Thoughts of him; we consider him as a Sovereign, who exerciseth his Dominion in the vast Empire of the Airy Regions, and makes his uninterrupted Progress through immense Spaces. That which gives us so noble an Idea of him, is, That he excels all the Feathered Creation in Courage, and his Approaches to them are terrible. The Word Prince, in the Original, signifies no more than Chief: And this Title carries a smother, and more acceptable Sound to a newly-conquered People, than all the other harsh Names, which are as so many Marks of Arbitrary Sovereignty. For this Reason Augustus (as Tacitus hath well observed) chose to govern the Empire under no other Title than that of Prince. Dion, to the same Sense, reports of another Emperor, who used to say, I am the Master of my Slaves, the General of my Soldiers, and the Prince of all the rest of the Romans. The most graceful Superiority is that which is founded in the highest Perfection: And we attribute this Name to those who excel all others in their laudable Professions. We therefore call Virgil the Prince of Poets, and Cicero the Prince of Orators. Of all those Royal Duties that God hath annexed to the Dignity of a Prince, this Title carries in it an Eternal Advertisement to those who are honoured with it, to surpass their Subjects in Merit, as well as Power, if ever they will be the Chiefs, and possess in all Things the highest Rank. They are then obliged to acquire more Glory than other Men; but they cannot have more Glory, if they have not more Virtue; and the most renowned of all Virtues is Valour.   

CHAP. VII.  
Valour is the Ornament of all Ages; and of the Female Sex, when it is found there.  
WIthout Valour, Youth is despicable; and with it, Old Age is honourable. What could be a more glorious Spectacle, than to behold Antigonus in the Grecian History, and the Constable of Montmorency in that of our own; who at the Age of Eighty Years, sought for Death in the midst of Battles; and there they both found it? Homer hath made us conceive a greater Esteem for Nestor, in bringing him to the Siege of Troy, than for the Father of Achilles, or Ulysses, whom he left snoring at home, in their private Houses. Certain I am, we regard the Macedonian Soldiers, called Argyraspides, with Admiration: They were the Flower of the Militia of that Kingdom; they had served not only in all the Wars of Alexander, but likewise in those of his Father Philip: The greatest part of them were Seventy Years of Age, and the youngest Sixty. It was not because they were Niggard's of their Lives, that they lasted so long: They were all covered with Wounds; neither could they receive any new ones, but upon their old Scars.  
Valour is also an Ornament to the other Sex, when it is found there. Amongst all Queens, we most admire Semiramis, and Zenobia. And it is impossible to think of a Name more taking, than that of an Amazon.   

CHAP. VIII.  
Cowardice is the greatest Reproach to a Man.  
COwardice is the most stabbing Reproach that can be put upon a Man. From the Time that he is upbraided with it, he takes up a Resolution, either to perish himself, or to avenge the Affront by the Death of his Accuser. It seems a less Evil to him, to kill, or be killed, than to suffer this Ignominy; and frequently, through a blind Fury, he is transported to the height of Revenge. Nay, he had rather appear a perfect Criminal, and more really guilty of other Vices, than so much as to seem reproachable for this. When Nature perceives that she hath been unkind, in not befriending a Man with that Courage which is proper for him, she gives him continual Advices to hide his Defect; she will shift him away from all Occasions, where his Weakness may be brought upon the Stage: She presents to his Thoughts Duty and Honour, that so she may lead him to do that upon Consideration, which he was unable to do upon his first Thoughts: And If she finds all this unprofitable, than she sometimes inspires him with Despair, which may seem to pass for Stoutness and Valour. In short, we may affirm, there is no such rigorous and shameful Slavery, as Servile Fear: When a Man would always be in a State of Security, he never is, nor doth he deserve to be so. The Fear of Dangers, either honourable or necessary, is the Lot of mean Souls; and they whose Lives are least to be valued, are most afraid of losing them.   

CHAP. IX.  
Whether a Man be Courageous, or Fearful, naturally.  
I Am now come to a Thought upon this Subject, which I know not if I can well express. Nature having impressed the Law of Self-preservation upon all Creatures, inspires them sometimes with very contrary Sentiments: For we cannot doubt but it is from the same Principle of Self-Preservation, which renders the Lion so undaunted, and the Hart so fearful. But if I may have Leave to abstract Humane Reason, and to consider Man in the Resemblance he may have with other Creatures, I believe, Nature hath not placed him in the Rank of those who are fearful, but of the Courageous. This appears, not only from the rash and hardy Actions which Men sometimes commit, against the Light of Reason; but also from the Savage Nations, and their manner of Living, who are perpetually waging War, one against another; and seldom cease, till their eager and bold Assaults ferment into Fury and Ferocity. But Cowards, which ought to make use of their Understandings, to elevate the Courage they received at their Birth, make no other Use of their timorous Reasonings, but to disgrace and stifle it; and by this unworthy Vice, sink themselves into a lower Degree than ever Nature intended them for: Whereas, on the other Side, they might not only have maintained their native Courage, but have advanced themselves to an higher Rank, by the Succours of Wit, and the Aids of Virtue.   

CHAP. X.  
Shame hath always attended the Actions of Cowards, amongst People which had any Sense of Honour.  
BUT let us not frame Suppositions injurious to Humane Nature: Let us speak of Men as they are; (that is to say) as Reasonable Creatures; and consider the Shame and Contempt wherewith the Actions of Cowards are deservedly branded amongst People which have had any Sense of Honour. If any Disgrace happened to the Romans by the Rashness or Imprudence of a Captain, they easily granted him Pardon for this Fault. After the Loss of a Battle which threatened their total Ruin, as soon as they understood that the Consul, who was the Cause of this Misfortune, was coming back for Rome, they went out to meet him with all the Testimonies of Respect, rather than with any Thoughts of Indignation: They gave him Thanks, that after such an Event, he had not despaired of the Safety of the Commonwealth. But they did not carry it so towards another, 
Mancinus.  who made a dishonourable Treaty in Spain: They declared him a Slave to the Numantines, by a public Edict; and they effectually sent him back with an Herald, to deliver him into their Hands. It is true, the City of Numantia would not receive him. So that it was made a Question in the Ancient Roman Law, whether this Man should become Free by his Return into his Country; and whether he should be restored to the Freedom of a Citizen, and the Dignity of a Senator. One Time, after an entire Defeat, when they had scarce Men enough left to furnish their Forts, and but a small Ransom was demanded of them for a great Number of Prisoners; yet they would not redeem them: They cashiered and banished all those who were saved in the Battle, into Sicily: and as Marcellus was passing through that Island, to besiege Syracuse, those wretched Soldiers cast themselves at his Feet, conjuring him with Tears to List them again into the Roman Service: They made Protestations to him, that they would make it appear, that that Bloody Defeat was not to be attributed to their Default, but to their Misfortune. Marcellus, who was touched with a Sense of their Distress, though he was to engage in a Siege where he should have need of Men, wrote to the Senate in their Behalf; who returned him this Answer, That the Commonwealth had no need of the Service of Cowards. In their ancient Discipline, they had a Military Punishment which was very surprising: When a Soldier had been guilty of Cowardice, they used to Let him Blood, as if he had been dangerously sick, and as if the Distemper had invaded his Spirits; to let us understand by this sort of Chastisement, that it was impossible a Man should continue in his right Senses, and at the same time be a Coward.  
As for the Lacedæmonians, they followed the Opinion of those, who (by a Definition peculiar enough) held, that Valour was the Fear of Shame: And upon this Apprehension, there was at Sparta a Temple consecrated to Fear. Amongst them, Fleeing in Time of War, Loss of Arms, and (in a Word) all Cowardly Actions, or but the Appearances of them, were Indelible Stains, and Eternal Infamies. There were some of them who died for Grief, whereinto they had precipitated themselves; neither would they admit of any Consolation. There were found some Mothers, who killed their own Sons when they returned from a Battle, as believing they did not there behave themselves valiantly. They invited Tyrteus the Athenian into their City, because his Verses excited Men to Valour. On the contrary, Archilocus being gone thither, they banished him as soon as they knew there was a Sentence in his Verses which seemed to favour Cowardice; the Sense whereof was this: I will cast away my Buckler, to save my Life: I may purchase another Buckler; but if I lose my Life, I can never have another.   

CHAP. XI.  
The Esteem that Men have is not altogether Gratis, no more than their Love: And in this Respect we may find Reason why Valour is so much prized.  
ACcording to this disadvantageous Idea, which we have with Reason conceived of a Vice contrary to Valour, if a Prince appears defective in this, no Person dare, or will, applaud him: For, as we love, to be beloved again; so we esteem others, to make ourselves esteemed. And it is an undeniable Proof of a good Judgement, to know where to place our Choice rightly. This Reflection which I have just now made, That the Esteem of Men is never Gratis, no more than their Love, hath occasioned me another manner of Reasoning, which did not at first offer itself to my Mind, and hath made me to discover one of the prime Sources from whence ariseth the Reputation we have of Valour. Both Public and Private Men regard those who are endued with this Virtue, as Props and Bucklers, whereof they may sometimes stand in need. So that by our Suffrages which we bestow on them, in Emulation one of another, we would oblige them to defend us on all Occasions; and engage their Inclinations to protect us, as well as their Power. 'Tis true, we esteem a valiant Man, though he be in the farthest Part of the Indies; and our Estimation of him survives after he is dead. But when an Inclination is born with us, it doth not wait always to put itself into Action, till all necessary Circumstances are offered; and although Nature hath appointed it to a certain End, yet it follows its Course nevertheless, though it miss of its End. Besides, Example reunites all Times, and all Places. By the Help of Example, Valour hath a Sympathetick Force; it's Operations influence those who are remote; and the Powder of an Hero's Ashes works at a distance: We regard the Memoirs of their Lives, as a perpetual Spur and Incitement to Virtue; we hope it will produce other Heroes in our Days, to whom we may flee, as a Sanctuary in our Distresses. And we should never have been transported with so much Zeal in the Praises of Constantine and Theodosius, if we did not believe the Emulation of their Valour would be effectual to produce other Constantine's, and other Theodosius', who may be our Defenders.   

CHAP. XII.  
The Desire of Superiority in the Matters of Valour hath been the Original Cause of Wars.  
IT has been imagined, that the first Cause of War was, a Desire that Nations have had to transplant themselves into more fruitful Countries, and more commodious Habitations, than their own; when, in Truth, Nature has more Care of her Productions, than to leave them destitute of Things necessary in the Places where they were brought forth: No Breezes refresh so sweetly, as one's native Air; no Mansion is so pleasant, as that which is situated in a Man's own Country. Those who are born under the Freezing of the North, or the Scorching of the Line, would not exchange their Dwellings for the most temperate Climate in the World. The Original Cause of War seems then to proceed from the Ambition Men generally have for Superiority in Matters of Valour. This Desire is, from Time to Time, kept awake in the Minds of People; and hath carried them on to fight one against another, without any other Consideration. Hence it oftentimes comes to pass, that the Conqueror doth not care to keep his Conquests entire; but is contented with a Tribute, an Homage, or a bare Acknowledgement that the Vanquished make, that they have been surmounted purely by the Force of his Arms. We do not believe that the Goths, Huns and Vandals, those Hurricanes of Nations, which made an Inundation into the Roman Empire, were animated by this Motive: It may be, they did not believe it themselves. But this is not the first Time that a Passion has been eagerly pursued, without being understood by him that followed it. It happens oftentimes, that these Spring's play and move in the Bottom of our Hearts, and our Hearts not perceive them: And it is very probable, that Nature being, as it were, jealous of herself, endeavours to show it in some of her Operations, wherein she hath better succeeded, than in others; and so pushed on those fierce Nations, to make them appear more courageous, than those that were subdued by them. Moreover, when we speak of the Alaric's, and the Attila's, there is a Thought darts in upon us, which entirely takes us up: We are well pleased that History hath not forgotten them, as not deserving to be confounded with the Lumber of the Crowd: Whatever Opinion we may have of them otherwise, yet we never think of them with such mean and slighty Thoughts as we commonly have for Things base and vile. Those very Persons which have an Horror for them, yet can detest them, without despising them. They are compared to Torrents, and Lightnings: They look upon them as Serpents, who raise themselves up towards the Sky; and not as mere crawling Vermin. In short, If we observe in them something Barbarous, yet we also find something, I know not what, of Great. These Men have celebrated themselves by their Boldness; they have forced Fame to immortalize them; they have ravished an Esteem from those very Nations they have ransacked; and by invading of Empires, they have usurped to an Admiration. It was for this Reason that the Romans, who treated all other Nations as Barbarians, (except the Grecians;) and the Ancient Grecians, who looked upon all the World besides as barbarians, (not excepting the Romans;) put a great Difference, both the one, and the other, between those which they called Barbarians: They spoke with Contempt of the Syrians and Egyptians, because they looked upon them as Cowards; but they spoke of the Gauls with Esteem, because they accounted them valiant. This fierce and undaunted Nation (whose Country France then was) serves me for an Example, to justify the Notion which I have been pursuing. One of the Ancients hath made this Remark; That the Destruction of Rome had been infallible, if the Gauls would have attacked her during the Time she made War against the Carthaginians, or against the Italians: But in regard Rome had the Weight of other Wars upon her Shoulders, and other Enemies to grapple with, the Gauls stood by as Neuters, and Spectators of the Event, without taking either Side. But afterwards, when they saw her free, and dis-engaged, either through Conquest, or Treaty, than they poured themselves into Italy, and made that terrible Irruption, called, Tumultus Gallicus; which alarmed the whole World to take up Arms, and to defend themselves against such formidable Enemies. Was not this a visible Affectation of Valour? They would overcome; yet not so, but that their Victory should be wholly attributed to their Courage. And they had assuredly been victorious, had they but equalised the Romans in Discipline, as they surpassed them in Valour.   

CHAP. XIII.  
History recounts the Actions of Valour more exactly than other Things.  
HIstory takes more Care to circumstantiate the Actions of Valour, than those of other Virtues. When she falls upon a Siege, or a set Battle, she makes a Stand, and would have us do so too, and look every Way about us. She frequently spends more Time in describing one Day's Battle, than in the Journals of a Ten Years Peace. When she meets with any memorable Event, she makes a punctual Description of the Place where it happened; represents to us the regular Motions of the Troops, reports the Harangues of the Generals, marks out the exact Time when the Signal was given; she observes the several Companies, and their Movements, both in the Onset, and in the Defence; she numbers the Slain, and gives us an Account of the Prisoners. In short, she waits, Step by Step, on the Conquerors, and the Conquered; and, as if there were nothing else in the World but those Armies which were engaged, she forgets all the rest of Mankind, only to describe this Battle. Now, she doth not take this Pains out of Ostentation, but rather out of Necessity. And we shall find she hath Reason for this Exactness, if we call to mind, that Set Battles have caused the Revolutions of Empires, and have put Changes upon the Face of the World. In effect, At such a Time the Soldiers carry in their Hands the Destiny of Nations: And it often comes to pass, that on the Success of one good or ill Day hath depended the Prosperity or Misery of many succeeding Ages. And as History is more exact in these Descriptions, so we are apt most especially to apply ourselves to them: We consider with Attention the immortal Impressions which they leave upon our Minds. Painting takes us up more entirely in Picture and Landscapes of this nature, than in others: It cannot represent to us a more agreeable Object, than an Hero in a Battle. And we take extreme Pleasure, either to behold Achilles giving Chase to the Trojans, or a Scipio fight under the Walls of Carthage: But we think it does not concern us, neither do we with any Pleasure stay to consider, whether Achilles (as Story saith) was as beautiful as he was valiant; or whether Heaven had blessed Scipio with a Majestic Body, worthy so great a Soul. We love to see Charles the Eighth in his Heroic Posture, though his Stature and his Presence were little taking or advantageous. We should love to see Agesilaus presented to the Life, (if possible) and in his natural Shapes; but that he had expressly forbidden while he lived, that any should draw his Portraiture, or erect his Statue.   

CHAP. XIV.  
Although Justice be the Principal of Virtues, yet Men honour Valour more than Justice: And the Reason of this their Conduct.  
IT is the Opinion of the most sage Philosopher, in his Ethics, that there are more Praises attributed to just and valiant Men, than to Persons eminent for other Virtues. He might have added, (as, in effect, he hath observed in his Problems) that the Valiant are more highly applauded, than the Just. In pursuing this, I shall not follow the Example of those Orators, who, in their Declamations, usually amplify the Theme they have espoused; and never fail to extol their present Subject, above all others. We must not be partial, as not for the Men, so neither for the Virtues. It must be confessed, Justice is the Principal of all: And the Answer of a certain Prince, both valiant and just, was solid and fine: When one demanded of him, whether Valour or Justice was the more reputable; he made this Reply, If all the World would follow Justice, Valour would be useless. Yet nevertheless, we do here in the bestowing our Acclamations, as Princes sometimes do in the Dispensation of their Kindness: The Measure of their Favours is not regulated according to the Proportion of the Merit of the Person only; they have other Regards; as, Services rendered, or to be rendered; the Recommendation of great and necessary Ministers of State; the Effect that their Largesses may have as to the Public; and a Thousand such like Considerations. Farther; Although Men generally esteem Justice more than Valour, yet they honour Valour more than Justice; they have always added a greater Splendour to the Reputation of this Virtue, than to that of others; and they have taken an extreme Care in all Ages, as to Men that live and die in the Wars, to render their Lives illustrious, and their Death's honourable. And it is not without good Reason that they do so; for the Profession of War is the most penible in its Performances, and the most hazardous in its Designs. Perils are not amiable and lovely in themselves; they must be recommended and embellished with Glory. And we may well say, Justice itself hath advised Men to maintain this Conduct; since it is but just, that if Valour hazard all for the Defence and Preservation of the People, that the People, on their side, should refuse nothing that may contribute to the Renown of Valour. Now, all these Reasons are more eminently apparent, in reference to Princes: We ordain Triumphs for them, not only for having established good Laws, but for having made great Conquests. And not only the Esteem, but the thankful Acknowledgements that People conceive for them, is greater when they return from a Campaign full of Fatigues and Dangers, than when they see them mount the Throne of Justice: Because War is no less hazardous than it is painful; and in the Exercises of Valour, the King exposeth his own Life; whereas in the Administration of Justice, he bestows nothing but his Time and Labour.   

CHAP. XV.  
Valour is necessary to a Prince, for his own Conservation.  
THough there were nothing but the Consideration of Honour to incite Princes to Valour, one would think this were an effectual Motive to Royal Souls. But this is not the only Thing: Interest and Self-preservation obligeth them to be valiant. Though Policy and Morality are nearly founded upon the same Principles, and are guided almost by the same Rules, yet it is less rare to find a just and generous Morality amongst private Persons, than a just and generous Policy among States. Those who are managed by just and generous Politics, are so much the more commendable; but yet, the Maxim I have propounded doth not cease to be true. For, if we consider the World now as it is, and as it always hath been, we shall find, that Monarchies and Republics are in a continual Defiance; they are always in a State of War. It is not so much great Rivers, or a vast Range of Mountains, that bounds their Dominions, as a mutual and reciprocal Fear they have one of another. From hence it is that they are precautioned to fortify themselves, to have Garrisons Manned, and Armies in Pay, and to retain the Idea of War in the midst of a profound Peace. Valour is necessary, where there is a continual Suspicion of Injustice, and Jealousy of injuries, to put one in a Capacity to repress Violence, and to oppose Force with Force. When a valiant Prince is set upon, he often defends himself with Success, always, with Honour. Besides; It is certain, they think more than once, before they undertake any Thing against him: So that he is seldom reduced to the Necessity of defending himself. And, in Truth, he hath more of those that are secretly jealous of him, than of declared Enemies. It frequently happens, that a single Man hath brought Safety to a Nation, and Victory to an Army. This great Confidence proceeds from the Reputation of the General; whether it be in Politic Government, or Military Discipline. There is an ancient Saying, which is very common; That an Army of Hearts, conducted by a Lion, shall be more formidable, than an Army of Lions, led on by an Hart. After Pyrrhus came into Italy, and had beaten the Romans, commanded by the Consul Albinus, it was ordained at Rome, that no Man should say that the Romans had been vanquished by the Epirotes; but that Albinus had been worsted by Pyrrhus. We must needs highly praise the Conduct of Eumenes; who being to fight a Battle against Craterus and Neoptolemus, the former whereof had a great Reputation, and the other none; when he understood that Craterus was ready to fall on him, he made his Troops believe that it was Neoptolemus; so that they engaged briskly in the Battle, and never knew they had to do with Craterus, till they had routed his Army, and slain their General. When Alexander was gone over into Asia, there was great Reason of Fear for Macedonia, almost all their Forces having followed the Fortune of that Prince: Yet neither the Thracians, Illyrians, nor Grecians durst attack them; or if they did, it was with vain Attempts; as the Lacedæmonians did with their King Agis: And it was often said, that the Advantages which the Macedonians gained over them was rather the Effect of Alexander's Renown, than Antipater's Conduct and Valour. When Henry the Fourth had conquered his own Kingdom, Spain thought herself happy to make a Peace with him: He enjoys his own Repose, and caused France to enjoy hers: He establisheth himself without Trouble in that Kingdom, which in the preceding Age had been the Scene of so many outrageous Broils and Rebellions. No Person was so hardy as to set upon him, but rather sought his Alliance. And we know, that at the fatal Time of his Death, when he had made vast Preparations for War, how he alarmed all other States, and put Europe to a Stand. On the other Side, when a Prince is defective in Courage, he is despised by all the World; and sometimes he is even abandoned by his own Subjects. The strange Misfortune which happened to Severus the Emperor, proceeded from the mean Opinion the Soldiers had of his Valour. Mark Anthony, at the Beginning of the Wars, was more beloved by the Soldiers, than any General of his Time: Of which he had good Experience. After he had lost a Battle, which forced him to quit Italy, he reestablished his Fortune amongst the Gauls; and by his Presence, drew over to him the Roman Legions, who, instead of fight him, (as they had Orders) submitted themselves to his Conduct. This very General saw all these Troops desert him, and go over to Augustus, after he had made a shameful and effeminate Retreat from the Battle of Actium. We will relate one Thing, which, though it seems not very important, as being but the Action of a private Person; yet it serves to confirm the Truth of this Notion that I am upon. Augustus, for the accomplishing of what he had begun, quits Rome a Year after this fatal Battle; and being gone into Egypt, he besiegeth the Enemy in Alexandria: a Roman Soldier under Anthony, so highly signalised himself in a Sally, that Mark Anthony caused him to sup with him at his own Table, and Cleopatra presented him with an Head-piece and Breastplate of Gold: Yet notwithstanding, though this Soldier was so magnificently recompensed, the Night following he deserts Anthony, and goes over to Augustus' Camp. I allege not this Example, in any wise to excuse such base Ingratitude; but to let you see the Danger a Man exposeth himself to of being abandoned, when he hath given Cause but to question his Want of Resolution. But if Valour be necessary to a Prince to keep what he hath gotten, it is yet much more necessary to put him in possession of what belongs to him. He must not think, or expect, in an ordinary Way, that the State will render up their Forts, at least, unless they are forced to it, or are in fear of being so; they will not part with them, as long as they have a Prospect of Power to keep them. It is to no purpose to send Ambassadors to allege Reasons; they will counter-plead them with Reasons, or contrary Pretences: And when the Demand he makes is very pressing, he will at last receive an Answer like to that of the Lacedaemonian Captain; the King of Persia wrote to him, Send me your Arms: He returns him this blunt Answer, viz. Come, and fetch them.   

CHAP. XVI.  
The same Reflections pursued.  
IF it be a Truth to say, (generally speaking) that Things are preserved by the same Means by which they have been acquired, we cannot doubt then, but that Courage is highly instrumental for the Preserving, seeing it is necessary to the Raising, itself; and that the greatest Fortunes in all Ages have been wrought out by Valour. Amongst the Roman Emperors, some from the lowest Rank, have arrived to the Purple: Many others were private Men, before they were Princes. The Empire was a long time exposed, either as the Reward of Courage, or as a Prey to Ambition; which, without Courage, is altogether vain and impotent. In Truth, the first Six Caesars succeeded each other by the Rights of Blood or Adoption. Vespasian, and some others, had their Children for their Successors: But how came Vespasian himself to the Throne? How came Galba, Trajan and Severus to the Sovereignty? Severus, above all others, is the greatest Instance of the Effects which are produced by Courage: He had to contest with puissant Rivals; and of the Four Pretenders to the Empire, he was looked upon to be the weakest; yet by his Valour he surmounted his Competitors; he flew to and fro, from one End of the Empire to another, with an Impetuosity always victorious: Whether he were in the Eastern Parts, or in our Countries Westward, he achieved such great Things, that it was the Opinion of a judicious Historian, 
Herodian.  that his Actions were not inferior to those of Caesar.  
But, to come nearer to our own Times: Have we not seen an obscure Person, a Man sprung from nothing, or (as we sometimes phrase it) a Son of the Earth, who routed the Turks, and brought away their Sultan Prisoner: He rendered himself Master of all Persia, and of all the Indies; and so far advanced his Victories, that some pretend Tamerlain no less a Conqueror than Alexander. On the one side, if he did not possess himself of Greece, and the Provinces bordering the Hellespont, yet, on the other side, he passed the River Ganges, and extends his Conquest as far as the Sunrising. His Memory is at this Day had in great Veneration amongst the Nations which he subdued; and, notwithstanding the Meanness of his Birth, many of the Asiatic Princes count it an Honour to be descended from him.   

CHAP. XVII.  
The Commonwealth of the Lacedæmonians maintained itself a long Time by the Laws of Lycurgus, which chiefly related to War.  
THE Lacedaemonian Commonwealth subsisted a long Time, (that is to say) more than Five Hundred Years, in great Splendour: She became more formidable than either Athens, or Thebes; and was considered as the Terror or Support of Greece, according as her Neighbours were her Enemies, or Allies. During so long a Time, she never wanted Enemies in Greece, or Asia; and the Wars she sustained were extremely dangerous. Besides, she had but a small Extent of Ground, and her Capital City was without Walls; but she maintained herself by her Valour. The Laws of Lycurgus, which chiefly related to the Affairs of War, had rendered her invincible; so that she was never observed to fall from this her Puissance, till Riches, which were the Spoils of their Conquests, corrupted them through Avarice, and softened them through Pleasures. the Republic of Carthage ended sooner than that of Rome, for it was destroyed by it; but then, she began to be a Commonwealth sooner; so that her Continuance was no less: And in her we shall find an Example, like to that we have been relating. The Laws, indeed, of the Carthaginians were near akin to those of the Lacedæmonians: And there were three Sorts of People, as Aristotle remarks in his Politics, that were guided almost by the same Form of Government; the Carthaginians, the Lacedæmonians, and the Candiots. These last were also very valiant, and by that Means they long flourished.   

CHAP. XVIII.  
The long Duration of Monarchy comes from Valour.  
BUT the Duration of these States comes not near Monarchy. Next to the Succours of Divine Providence, which is the principal cause of its Conservation, we may not refer it to Humane Prudence, since it must be granted, that this Virtue is not always found in any one particular Nation: It must be attributed to Valour. Perhaps, in the longest Succession of Kings, there is but few of them that History reproacheth for Want of Courage; and yet the Historians profess an Impartiality, both to the Good, and Bad. If we trace the Lines of remotest Monarchies as far as we do ours, or those most near, we shall not find one Kingdom, where Courage hath been wanting. And though some Kings have not been always Victorious, but they have been always Valiant; and if Fortune had been but as constant to them as Nature, they would have left nothing for their Successors to do now, but might have made themselves Masters of the Universe. The Misfortunes of King John obliged Charles, his Son, not to hazard a second Disgrace; but that Prince, who, in this, than showed his Prudence, had before given Proof of his Courage. Lewis the Eleventh, who, towards the Latter End of his Days, had abandoned his Soul to the melancholy Terrors and Apprehensions of Death, never gave Testimony of such terrifying Fears in all his Wars: And one might have seen him give Personal Proofs of his Valour at the Battle of Montlheri. Henry the Third had won three Victories before he was King; which gives us to observe, that it was his Slothfulness, and not his Cowardice, which was the Cause of his unhappy Reign. He feared not the Danger of War, but he dreaded the Labour of it. He had been well satisfied to have fought every Year a Battle, provided, that after the Fight was over, he might have been permitted to spend the rest of the Year in Idleness. These are they whom Calumny may take occasion to asperse; and yet they are free from this Fault of Cowardice. The rest claim our Eulogies, rather than need our Apologies. Prosperity sometimes failed them in the Event, and Prudence was sometimes wanting in the Enterprise; but their Courage never failed, neither in the Enterprise, nor in the Event. There were no Adventures happened to them, wherein their Valour was not showed forth. King's are not made Prisoners of War so long as they remain in their Palaces: But if any of them, in commanding their Armies, do fall into the Hands of their Enemies, who manage the War by their Lieutenants, it is plain, that, at the same Time they are vanquished, they have appeared more courageous than their Conquerors. Such have been the Princes from whom some are descended, who have no reason to blush for their Ancestors, nor themselves, in Reading their History: They are found in their proper Place, when seated on their Throne: And that they were altogether worthy of proceeding; their Successors, who have since had better Fortune: Whose Destinies may raise in us a Compassion for them, but will never cause us to be ashamed of them.   

CHAP. XIX.  
The Empire of the Ancient Persians was soon expired; as also that of the Grecians. And the Reasons thereof.  
AND as some Kings have been always Valiant, so have their Subjects never basely degenerated from the Principle of Courage. So that we need not wonder, that Monarchy hath preserved itself, during the Course of so many Ages; and that she promiseth herself a Duration equal to that of the Universe. On the contrary, the Empire of the Ancient Persians did not long subsist, because Cyrus had those for his Successors, which were not worthy of him: They had more of Vanity, than Valour: They moved, indeed, with innumerable Armies, they poured forth Soldiers by the Millions; and, with a ridiculous Arrogance, vaunted, that they would shovel Mountains into the Sea, and lay Fetters upon the Ocean; and yet, after all these dreadful Cracks, they were beaten, sunk and chased by the little Republics of Greece. However, we may say that Darius, in whom this Empire expired, was not defective in Courage; but he had not so much as his Enemy; seeing that, though he was far stronger than he, yet, nevertheless, he was surmounted by him. When his famous Conqueror was dead, without Children, the Principal of his Captains became Kings: One had Macedonia for his Part; another, Syria; a Third, Egypt: But all these blazing Sovereignties, not falling into Hands strong enough to sustain them, were soon extinguished. Perseus, the last King of the Macedonians, was but the Seventh in Succession from Antigonus. The Seleucides, which had Syria, continued no long Time. And the Ptolemey's, whose Kingdom was the last which was reduced to a Province, held not Egypt above two Ages. Their Misfortunes came from a Defect of Valour. Perseus, of whom we have been speaking, instead of showing the Courage of a King after his Defeat, carried himself with so much Baseness, that the General of the Roman Army was ashamed of him when he came from the Battle; apprehending that it would not be any Glory for him to conquer such a Man. And when he saw him prostrate himself unworthily at his Feet, Ah! saith he, Do not dishonour my Victory. And yet, this Carriage was less to be blamed (if possible) than that of Antiochus, of the Race of the Seleucides; to whom the Romans sent Popilius, to command him to depart out of a Country, whereinto he had entered with his main Army. So soon as he saw the Ambassador afar off, going over his Camp, he humbly salutes him: The Ambassador, with a Fierceness not to be endured, comes up to him, without returning him any Salute, and delivers him a Letter from the Senate. Antiochus, after he had read it, told him, He would deliberate upon whas was to be done. Popilius presently making a Circle about this Prince, with a Wand that he then had in his Hand, said to him; Deliberate if you will; but before you go out of this Circle, I expect your Answer. Here You may behold a perfect Coward: A King, who, in the midst of his Army, had received such unworthy Carriage from an Envoy; instead of being inspired with a just Indignation, consulted only his own Fears; and answered, He would do what the Romans should desire of him. As for Ptolemy, can any one be guilty of a more sordid and treacherous Action than his, when he sacrificed the greatest Infortunate to his infamous Politics? And the better to make his Court to Caesar, makes him a Present of the Head of Pompey. All these Princes, so little worthy of their Sovereignty, did but possess part of the Conquests of Alexander. What became of Persia, after the Death of this great Monarch? There were but two Divisions made of those great Conquests; one by Perdiccas, and the other by Antipater. It was in the second Division, that Babylon fell to Seleucus: He afterwards gained the Army of Nicanor, Governor of Media; and being also assured of Persia, it was the best Division, seeing that his Empire extended itself from the Egean Sea, even to the Indies. But at last, all these Successors of Alexander, and their Descendants, not knowing how to agree amongst themselves, nor how to conquer one another, it happened that, during their Dissensions, a valiant Parthian, named Arsaces, mounts the Throne, and became the Founder of one of the most puissant and illustrious Families that History presents to our Remembrance. This Noble Family was not eclipsed (as others were) with the Rays of the Roman Splendour: She gave Kings to the Eastern Nations; and investing herself, during so many Ages, with Sovereign Power, was never the Subject, but always the Rival of that ambitious Republic. These were the Princes called the Arsacides, from the Name of their illustrious Founder; who created so much Trouble to the Romans; and abated their Pride, by the mortal Disgraces he put upon them; as, the Death of Crassus, the Flight of Mark Anthony, and the Slaughters or Defeats of many of their great Armies. I believe there was never any but Ventidius, that triumphed over the Parthians: But the Parthians have often triumphed over the Romans; though the Triumph was a Ceremony altogether Roman, and was not used amongst the Greeks: And it was their Fault they did not triumph in State, since they gained so many signal Advantages over those haughty Enemies. And certainly, we may say, the Valour of the Parthians gave Checkmate to the Ambition of the Romans. They hindered them from rendering themselves Masters of the Universe, (as they thought to have done:) And I doubt not, but their invincible Resistance was the Cause of that standing Counsel which Augustus left amongst the Secrets of Government. He recommends it to his Successors, never to extend their Dominion beyond Euphrates; and to look upon that River, as the fatal Boundary of the Empire.   

CHAP. XX.  
A great Number of Examples in Morality amount to a Proof; and produceth almost the same Effect, as Experience doth in Physic.  
IN alleging all these Examples, I conceive, I have done what I ought; because in Things of this Nature, the Number of Examples amounts to a Proof; and almost holds the same Place in Morality, as Experiments do in Physic. If one should demand of me, Doth it never happen, that a Cowardly Nation gets a Conquest over one more valiant? I would answer, It may happen so by Accident; as, if an Army should perish by a Tempest at Sea, or by an Inundation upon Land. But these Events are very rare: And besides, they are foreign to the Actions of Valour.  
It was a Saying of one of the Ancients, That Virtue and Fortune, although they are very different, yet sometimes produce the very same Effects. If by Fortune, he means Providence, the Saying hath nothing surprising in it: And we need not wonder, that God, who can do all Things, should act Things like to those that Men do, when he hath a Will to do so. But if one will speak of Fortune, considered only in respect to us, as being no other Thing than Humane Weakness meeting with an happy Success, which it neither foresaw, nor merited, we must restrain this Proposition, and content ourselves to say, That Fortune doth that sometimes, and but very rarely, which Virtue doth always, or, at least, generally. It is storied, That a Painter throwing his Pencil in a Rage against his Cloth, hit upon that Stroke which he had been long studying to represent. This happened but once: But it happens an infinite Number of Times, that we paint that which we have a Fancy to, if we will work gradually, and with Patience. So that this one Instance is no Argument against so many others. Which shows, we have no Reason to say, that to the Drawing of Pictures, it is no more than to throw the Pencil against the Frame; but we ought to guide it by the Rules of Art. Though it sometimes happens, that valiant Nations have been vanquished by Cowards, (though the contrary is generally true) yet the Maxim doth not fail to be certain, That Princes are obliged to be valiant, for their Preservation; and that they ought to regard this Virtue, as the Force of their Empire, and the Support of their Dignity.   

CHAP. XXI.  
Other Arguments drawn from the Character of those who have Courage, and of those who have none.  
BUT, besides; it is not impossible to support a Truth so certain as this, upon a Reasoning independent on Experience. Though a Man be ignorant of all the Histories of the World, provided he doth but know the Character of Persons which have Courage, and the Character of those that have none, he will conclude, that Things ought thus to come to pass as they have done; and he will divine (as one may say) the Effects which Valour hath produced in several Nations. Indeed, he might thus argue; Either valiant People have been overcome by those which have surpassed them in Prudence, or by those which were inferior to them in Prudence, as well as in Courage. It is plain, that they have not been vanquished by the last; and it is very probable, that neither have they been conquered by the others; because the Character of Prudence without Courage is not to quarrel against Valour, but to seek her own Repose and Security by Submission; and to prefer an humble and quiet Obedience, before a restless Liberty. Accordingly, he will find this Maxim justified by History; and see a remarkable Example in the Grecians, after they had degenerated from the Courage of their Ancestors; and that the Posterity of those who had conquered Persia, made little or no Opposition against the Romans: They had always the same Inclination to the Arts, wherein they are still excellent; but they have none of that Valour left, which had been their Buckler, and their Rampart: And, instead of studying how to break or shake off the Yoke, they thought of nothing but to accustom themselves tamely to it: They employed their Wits in nothing so much, as to flatter their Masters, whose Contempt they had drawn upon themselves: They submitted more than was desired of them; and from the compleatest Liberty, which they once enjoyed, slipped into the most abject Slavery. They relate to us an Adventure upon this Subject, which is fine enough: Mark Anthony sometimes took pleasure, in his Marches, to appear under the Name, and in the Equipage of that Fabulous God, whom the Pagans made to preside over Wine and Good Cheer; and who besides, (say they) was a great Conqueror, and that he pierced even as far as the Indies. From whence it came, that Alexander also affected to imitate him. This Triumvir, who had divided the Empire with Augustus, (for they had excluded Lepidus) having passed into Greece with an Army, and appearing in this Dress that we told you, the Athenians sent their Deputies to him, signifying, that they would acknowledge him to be the God, whose Name he had taken upon him, and whose Triumph he represented; and that they came to offer him Minerva, the Patroness of their City, in Marriage. Mark Anthony answered them, That he accepted her for his Bride: But, at the same Time, he added, That since they would marry their Goddess to him, he doubted not but that they would be well pleased to pay him down Three Millions for her Dowry. Certainly, they were astonished at the Success of their Flattery: But how great soever their Surprise was, the Money must be found; and the Athenians were forced to exhaust their Exchequer, to pay down Minerva's Marriage-Portion. There are a Thousand Examples of this Nature; which were the Effects of that sordid Baseness which the Grecians fell into, by losing the Courage of their Ancestors; and which, informing us of the Character of Men when they have Wit without Courage, confirm the Argument we have been pursuing, to demonstrate the infallible Success of Valour. I did not think it needful to remark in this Discourse, that we are to suppose some Proportion between the Forces: In Moral Discourses, these sort of Suppositions must always be granted; and though they are not expressly contained, yet they are to be supplied by an equitable Construction. In effect, We know very well that the Lacedæmonians were cut in pieces by the Persians, at the straits of Thermopylae: But what could Three Hundred Soldiers do against an Army of more than Ten Hundred Thousand? They did all that Men could do; they sold their Lives at a dear Rate, slew a vast Number of Persians, and put their Main Body into Disorder; insomuch that the King of Sparta pushed on to the very Tent of Xerxes: But they foresaw well enough, that they should be overpowered by a Multitude: And they might have said then, what some have made them say since, Diutius possunt perire, quam nos vincere. We suppose then, that there should be amongst the Forces, either if not an entire Equality, yet, at least, some Proportion. If we rest upon this Foundation, the Reflections that we have made, will be acknowledged to be true; and we shall find, that it is humanely impossible that courageous People should be surmounted by others; and that Valour should not render herself Mistress of the World.   

CHAP. XXII.  
A Prince may be considered in reference to Five Sorts of Persons: And to maintain himself in all these different Respects, he hath need of Valour.  
BUT we must dwell a little longer upon these Considerations; which ought to be the more agreeable to a valiant Prince, seeing that we are naturally pleased to apply Inclination to Duty; and to do that by the free and ingenuous Motions of our Souls, out of Choice, which we are obliged to do out of Necessity. A King may then be considered in reference to Five Sorts of Persons; of Soldiers, of Subjects, of Allies, of Enemies, and of those which are purely Strangers, without any of those other Respects. When he renders himself illustrious by true Valour, he inspires into his Soldiers Courage, into his Subject's Affection, into his Allies Confidence, into his Enemies Fear, and into all others Esteem and Respect. The Roman Dictator never fought, but with the Infantry; to let them understand, that Danger was equal to him, with his Troops; and renouncing all Possibility of a Retreat, he did not divide his Thoughts between Conquering and Fleeing, but between Victory or Death. A Grecian Captain, leading his Soldiers through a very difficult Pass, 
Zenophon.  where they were to climb a steep Hill, which he had already gained, marching at the Head of them, he exhorts them not to be disheartened at the Difficulties, but to do their best Endeavours to follow him. He that was the foremost of them, answered him: You speak freely, Sir; and to your own Sense: You are on horseback, I am on foot; and besides, I carry a very heavy Buckler. The Captain hearing this, a lights immediately from his Horse, gives the Soldier his Hand, and carries his Buckler for him. This soon wrought a wonderful Emulation amongst the rest; who, when they were got to the Top of the Hill, reproached the Soldier for his Insolence, and conjured their Officer to give him back his Buckler, and to mount his Horse. This Captain was not a Prince: I leave You to consider how passionately the Soldiers had been affected, if a Sovereign had done such an Action. When a Soldier sees that his Prince exposeth his Royal Person, this Sight cannot but strangely animate him, and force from him such Reflections as these: Behold a Prince who hath a Crown to lose, and yet hazards his Life: Why should I then, who am but a Soldier of Fortune, and who have no Estate but my Sword; why, I say, should I study to save my inconsiderable self, after so great an Example? As for his other Subjects, who are not engaged in Military Service, they have also sensible Considerations, which extremely touch them: They consider they are at Ease and Security in their own Houses, during the Time that their Prince, to maintain them in their Tranquillity, undergoes a Thousand Fatigues, and is confronted by a Thousand Dangers: They think with themselves, that he is not obliged, but that he may stay at home in his Palace, and enjoy his Royal Repose; but yet he will command his Armies himself, and will not be diverted from this Design, neither for the Hazards he must run, nor for the Pains he must endure. It is impossible but that such Considerations, which are inspired even by common Sense, should be presented to their Minds, and enter into the Bottom of their Souls, and fill them full with Love, Zeal and Gratitude for the Person of their Sovereign. Who does not presently see the Effects which the Valour of a Prince will produce in the Spirits of his Allies, by their confiding in him? And in those of his Enemies, by their Fears? The Principle we have settled upon the Difference between Policy and Morality obligeth us to believe, that Alliances between States are rather founded upon Interests, than any private Friendship: They never seek for Alliances, but with those who are capable to serve, or to hurt them. The Ancient Persians knew well how to make use of this Distinction: When an Ambassador was sent to them, from the Lacedæmonians, they entertained him with another manner of Reception, than the Envoys which came from the other Republics of Greece. What shall we say of those wonderful Effects which the Reputation of valiant Princes hath produced, and whereof History hath furnished us with such a Multitude of Examples? It has happened a Thousand Times, that their very Names only have caused Forts to be speedily surrendered, which were able to have maintained a long Siege, and have put to flight those Armies which had Forces sufficient to have overcome the Pursuers.  
As to those who are neither Soldiers nor Subjects, neither Allies nor Enemies to a valiant Prince, they entertain the Noise of his Renown, and the News of his Exploits, with Admiration; they have no Thoughts to engage in any War against him, but rather to seek the Aids of his Protection: They are afraid of becoming his Enemies, and covet nothing more, than to be his Allies. Nay, they even wish sometimes to be his Soldiers, or his Subjects, that they might participate of his Glory. They offer up a Thousand Vows to Heaven, for such a Prince of their own; and when they cannot obtain one like him, they are so far transported, as to wish that he were their Master.   

CHAP. XXIII.  
If a Prince, when he is engaged in a War, be bound to do it in Person.  
IT is little to the purpose to say, that the King may wage War by his Lieutenants: For, besides that no Person can ever be so well assured of the Fidelity that others have for him, as he is assured of the Fidelity that he has for himself; the Prince is the Soul of the Army; his Presence is that Plastic Power, which inspires Life, Activity and Vigour into them; so that nothing in the World is able to compensate so great a Benefit. Farther, I know not whether Sovereigns can be dispensed with from this important Function; and if they are not obliged to command their Armies in Person, when they have not other weighty Reasons to the contrary. This Question hath never been stirred, but upon the Score of Policy: It concerns us here to treat of it in the Moral Consideration; either for that if there lies an Obligation of Conscience upon them, the Difficulty is soon at an End, and there remains no more Place for Politic Deliberations; or be it, that this Reflection is absolutely necessary for the Prosecution of our Subject. Indeed, If we can imagine that a Prince is never obliged to make War in Person, we may draw this Consequence then, That he is never obliged to be valiant. Our Religion gives us Light in this, which the Pagans had not; it clearly discovers those Truths to us, which were unknown to them, or which they knew but by some glimmering Interviews, and of which they never spoke, but with Hesitancy. Two Principles must be granted: First, That it is God who hath established Kings. The other is, That he hath established them to govern and defend the People. We must also grant a Third Principle, which is, That in all Professions in the World, from the lowest to the highest, when a Thing to be done is the End of the Profession, those who are called to those Professions are obliged to do it themselves; otherwise, Men will shuffle off their Duties one to another, and no one would mind his proper Business, or (to use a more Christian Expression) follow his Vocation. Now, If it be certain that God hath not raised up Kings, but to govern and defend their People; and if it is as certain, that they are obliged to govern and defend them by themselves; then we must grant, that in all important Occasions wherein they are to acquit themselves of this their Duty, they are obliged to do it in Person. Let us add, to put an End to this Argument, That there cannot be offered more important Occasions, than those of War. These Maxims are of so great Truth, that if a Sovereign, by his Presence only, could put a Stop to a Contagious Pestilence, which is sometimes compared to War; and by the Communications of its poisonous Effluviums, hath frequently made sweeping Desolations in the World; he ought to expose himself thereunto, and thereby to relieve the public Calamity of his Subjects; and he is obliged to it, even by the Office of his Sovereignty. But Kings are not bred up Doctors; they cannot administer Medicines against the Plague: There is need of Physicians to cure their Bodies, and Spiritual Pastors to take care of the Salvation of their Souls. Whereupon, we may say in some manner, That as in a Time of this Epidemical Distemper, although the Bishop's substitute Churchmen to hold their Places, and to do their Functions; yet they are not left at liberty, but at such a Time they ought to visit in Person: And Nonresidency is unpardonable. So Princes, though they may have able Captains in their Realms, yet they are not therefore dispensed with from making their Wars in Person. But, to give a greater Light to this Reflection, let us distinguish between three Sorts of Things, in respect of the Actions of Kings: Those which he cannot do, but by himself: Those Things which he cannot do, but by another: And those Things which he may do, either by himself, or others. There is no Question of those Things which he cannot do, but by himself, that he is plainly obliged: Neither can there be any Dispute about such Things which he cannot do, but by another; it is as plain, that therein he is dispensed with. So that the Difficulty rests only on those Things which he may do, either by himself, or by another. If he will not do them himself, I demand, Wherein consists the Merit of his Obedience which he ought to render to God, and of answering the End of his Vocation? It is not in those Things which he cannot do, but by himself; for he is constrained to do them, and Necessity leaves him no Room for Choice. On the other Side, I demand, what are the Things a King cannot do, but by himself? If we search into the Particulars, it will be hard to find any: And we shall see, that it is almost impossible to imagine any Thing in the Conduct of a State, which the King (generally speaking) may not devolve upon others. If it were then permitted him to make use of this Liberty in its utmost Extent, the Consequence will be, that he need never to take notice of the Complaints of his Subjects, or redress their Grievances; he need never administer Justice, or pass any Acts of Grace himself; and, in a Word, he may then reign always, and in all Things, by another. What would Kings say, if after they have nominated one of their Subjects General of the Army, and this Man should only be General Sit-still at home, and choose another to command the Troops in his stead? Now, a Monarch is nominated and appointed a General by the Sovereign of the World, the Lord of Hosts: He, in like manner, commits the same Offence against God, when he will not himself command in Person in his Military Undertake, but assigns to other Hands all the Care and Conduct of the War. This Opinion may, perhaps, be thought singular, but it appears to me to be rationally grounded, and I am fully persuaded of the Truth of it. It is true, there may be some Exceptions; as, If the Intestine Affairs of the State require the Presence of the Prince at home; and that it were impossible for him to be absent, without hazarding the Safety of his Kingdom. But the greatest of these Exceptions, is, that of Offensive Wars; there the Prince is not obliged to command in Person, because he doth not then act in the Defence of his People: But since the Preservation of his Subjects ought to be the Aim of his Actions, the same Reason which obligeth him to make War, obligeth him to do it in Person. But setting aside that Exception, and some few others, whereof a disinterested Prudence ought to be Judge, I believe, that the actual Command of the Army is not only the Glory, but the Duty of Kings; and that they are thereunto obliged, by an indispensible Consequence upon the Sovereign Dignity.   

CHAP. XXIV.  
Valour is necessary for a Prince, to render his Condition agreeable.  
VAlour is yet farther necessary for a Prince, to render his Condition pleasant. We shall easily understand this Maxim, as a Consequence of those we have already established, if we consider, it is very difficult for a Prince to live happily, if he be not in a Condition to live honourably, and to authorise his own Security. The Principles of Honour, which are impressed on the Souls of Men, and above all, on those of Kings, are an inexhaustible Source of Joy to those who comply with them, and a continual Torment to those who are not conformable to them. A Sovereign is jealous of his Authority, and hath Reason so to be, since it is God who hath bestowed it on him. But when he is not able to support his Dignity himself, this Jealousy serves but to torment him the more: He bemoans his Destiny, either in public, or private: He finds, Fortune hath betrayed him, in lifting him up; and he loves not that Theatre, where he is obliged to represent a Personage greater than himself: His Crown is too heavy for him, and his Throne is all stuck with Thorns. Hence it is, that the Hearts of Kings are crowded with Distrusts, Terrors, Irresolutions, and Angers, which sometimes burst out into Cruelties; and their Griefs turn into Fury. As they fear all Men, so they would that all Men should fear them; and seeing they cannot render themselves venerable by their Virtue, they think to appear terrible by their Vices. History oftentimes hath much ado to unravel these sorts of Motives; those which are led by them, do not boast of them; they palliate their Injustice and Violences, under other Pretences; yet however, their Artifices are not able to prevent their Discovery. We know by what Motives the Nero's and the Domitian's were acted, when they did rid themselves of the greatest Personages of their Time. We know, I say, that under Cowardly Princes, Impunity is not always the Effect of Innocence; and that oftentimes great and extraordinary Merit passeth with them for a Capital Crime. They are sure to follow a Conduct like that of the Republics of Ephesus and Athens, who practised the Ostracism; and by a long Exile, disgraced the Glory of their most famous Citizens, even at the same Time that their Fidelity and Love for their Country had rendered them illustrious. What Pleasure or Repose can a Prince enjoy, whose Soul is ruffled with such irregular Disorders; hating the loyalest of his Subjects, and fearing the least formidable of his Enemies? It is then, his Imagination grows big, and multiplies Dangers. The least ill News puts him into a Consternation, and is as mortal Alarms to him. A small Force levied in a Foreign Nation, appears to him as numerous an Invasion as the Armies of Xerxes or Daxius. The impertinent Folly of some private Malcontents, which murmur against the Government, seems to him no less than a total Revolt, contrived long beforehand; and portends a general Insurrection throughout the whole Kingdom. Every Thing makes him suspicious: He is topful of Fears, within and without: A Sense of his ill Conduct at home, and of his ill-managed Transactions abroad, supply him with a continual Series of Uneasiness. He is become a Scene of Misery: And we cannot say, whether he is disquieted more with a Disgust of Things present, or with the Apprehension of what is to come.   

CHAP. XXV.  
Important Reflections upon the Idea which the Ancients have conceived of Valour, not only in respect to the Dangers of War, but of all other Things which may create Fear or Grief.  
WE shall better understand how this Virtue is necessary to the Repose of Princes, if we take the Notion of it in the whole Extent, as the Ancients did: They considered it, in general, as the Force of the Soul, and gave it really the Name of Force: By which they understood, that this fortifies a Man with Assurance, not only in respect of the Dangers of War, but of all other Things which may be the Objects of Fear. When one of them tells us, that the Cymbrians were hardy in their Combats, and fearful in their Sickness; and that the Greeks, on the contrary, looked upon Death with Horror in a Field of Battle, but waited for it with Resolution in their Beds; this Philosopher speaking after this manner, lets us know, that the Courage of both these Nations was imperfect. We cannot make a better Judgement of the Sentiments they had of Valour, than by the Definitions they have given of it. What is Valour? It is (saith an Ancient) a voluntary and considerate Resolution to expose one's self to Dangers, and to undergo Hardship. Fortitudo est considerata periculorum susceptio, & laborum perpessio. Valour (saith another) is the Pursuit we make after a solid Advantage, through Dangers and Labours which we must surmount in the Acquest of it. Fortitudo est contemptio laboris & periculi, cum ratione utilitatis, & compensatione commodorum. One Sect of Philosophers also defined this Virtue after this manner: Fortitudo est ratio negligendae mortis, perpetiendique doloris. Valour is that which enables us to suffer Pain, and despise Death. In fine, all others have spoke to the same Sense: And I can assure You, without fear of abusing You in this Point, that there is not one of them which hath limited Valour to the Dangers of War only. We have two Reflections here to make: The First is, That the Word which generally enters into their Definitions, and which they join with that of Danger, doth equally signify Labour and Pain, because they follow the Ideom of the Greek Language; which, although it be very copious, useth one and the same Word to express Dolour and Labour. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  The Second Consideration, which we must not forget, is, to take notice that the Idaea's which they form of Valour, are deduced from the Doctrine of Aristotle; who, in truth, had received them from the Principles of the Academy; who having distinguished divers Faculties in the Soul of Man, he there placed (or gave Leave to his excellent Commentators to do it) the four Virtues: Prudence in the Understanding, Justice in the Will, Valour in that which they call Irascible, and Temperance in the other. Now, it is certain, that Irascible doth not only respect Military Dangers, but it has for its Object all the Rencounters of this Life, either terrible, painful, or difficult. According to these Principles, the Ancients attribute the very same Epithets of Commendation to the two Scipio's, to Fabius Maximus, and Aemylius, for having supported great Afflictions, as well as for winning of Battles. And they give us to understand, that if Marius did exercise his Courage in the midst of Arms, he also exercised the same Courage, when he endured a violent Operation of Chirurgery, without complaining; and in the midst of exquisite Pains, remained firm and unmoveable. I see we have much ado to bend our Language to this Sense: We do not say, a Man suffers Affliction valiantly; but we say, he suffers it with Constancy. It matters not for Words, provided we agree upon Things. In this Notion of Valour, comprising an Undauntedness in Battles, and a steady Resolution in all the other Accidents of Life, Princes may be informed of a Character which is very becoming of, and expedient for them. If they do not keep up this Force and Assurance of Mind, they will be injurious to themselves on many Occasions: They will not be able to maintain the Glory of their Exploits in their other Actions; but, in many Things, will discover, that they are tainted with the low Opinions and Errors of vulgar Souls: It will appear, that they were raised, not by their Virtue, but their Fortune: In short, There will many Occasions happen, where their Weakness will betray their Dignity. It is Admiration, and not Pity, that the Grandeur of Kings calls for. Nothing is more undecent, than to shed Tears upon a Throne; nothing is so contemptible, as a puling Sovereign. Monarch's ought not to appear intimidated, Crestfallen, or surprised: They should settle their Minds in such a fixed State, as not to stand in need of Consolation; or if they do need it, they ought to seek for it (as one once said) in the Bosom of the Commonwealth. When a Prince is of this Disposition, he renders his Life truly easy; and finds not only Repose, but Joy, in the midst of Labours: It sweetens the Bitterness of Adventures, though never so vexatious; it turns all the Thorns of the Crown into fragrant Flowers. I thought it my Duty, not to forget these Reflections in this Discourse, although it was designed particularly to consider Valour in reference to the Profession of War; wherein, if I conformed myself to our Modern Way, yet I am not very far wandered from the Maxims of the Ancient Moralists. In short, Those who have handled Valour in the largest Extent, yet will be sure to inform us, that Military Courage is the principal Part of it; and that it shines brightest, above all, in the Occasions of War, where the most apparent Dangers reign rampant, and which are big with Things most capable to inspire Fear. So that Valour, above all, relates to War, as War does to Fight, which is the End of the Functions of that Discipline. The Roman Soldiers were never idle, they underwent more Pains than the most laborious Mechanics; and by this Means they arrived at those great Performances, the Memory and Footsteps whereof astonish us at this Day: But they laboured as Soldiers, not as Mechanics; and never quitted the Military Character. Hence it was, that Corbulon was so severe, that he punished a Soldier with Death, because he was carrying Earth without having his Sword on. Hence it was, that the Obligation of Fight never ceased, until the Military Oath was altogether broken; whereas before they might have been discharged from other Obligations. To understand this well, we must remember, that the Romans had two sorts of Conge's or Dismission from the Wars: One which they called Missio; and that permitted the Soldiers totally to quit the Wars, and to return to their own Homes: The other they called Exauctoratio; which dispensed with the Soldiers from their Military Employments, but still they were obliged not to be far distant from the Army: Those who had this sort of Licence lived out of the Precincts of the Camp; they lived after what manner they pleased, so long as they had nothing actually to do against the Enemy; but when Occasion presented itself, they joined with the other Roman Soldiers who lodged in the Camp, and all engaged together in the Battle.   

CHAP. XXVI.  
The Pleasures of Princes are Military Pleasures.  
'TIS from this Relation that Valour hath to War, and War to Battle, that the noblest Games have, in all Times, been the Representations of that Profession, and of this Virtue. There was never any Thing so celebrated in the World, as the Olympian Games; there used to be a general Concourse of all Greece; and he who won the Prize, not only made his Entrance, as it were, in Triumph into the Town where he was born, but he had this farther Honour done him, that the Year of his Victory bore his Name; for the Annals were directed after this manner, The Year wherein such an one was Victor in the Olympic Games, it happened that— We cannot doubt but that the Representations of Valour and War were very lively in the Solemnities of these Games. 'Twas for this Reason that, after they were ended, there appeared a War-horse in the midst of the Course. One of the Ancients hath observed, that for the same Reason the Exercise of Wrestling always went before that of Running; because Wrestling represents the hot Engagement of the Fight, as the Race represents the Pursuit. The Romans, that their Spectacula might the better resemble War, would have them all to be dangerous and bloody; not only in the private Combats of the Gladiators, but also in those they called the Naumachies, which were the Representations of Sea-Fights. The most famous of all was that which was given them by the Emperor Claudius: They filled an immense Space with Water, which represented the Sea, and caused an Hundred Ships to be floating thereon, which were Manned with Twenty Thousand Malefactors, or (as one may say) Slaves of Torment. This Multitude, thus condemned to kill one another, might have been capable of acting strange Things, had they once turned their Despair against the Spectators: But to prevent such an Attempt, this artificial Lake was hemmed in with another Army; and over those Troops, ranged in Battalia, sat the Emperor and his Courtiers, in the highest Places of the Amphitheatre. Then the Signal was given, and these Hundred Ships, being divided into two Fleets, came to grapple, and entered into a stiff and bloody Engagement. We must confess, these Sights were very inhuman; the Lives of Men are too precious to be sported away, and to be sacrificed to a Diversion. Princes have wisely renounced these sorts of Pleasures; and those which they have retained are purely military. Hunting is a kind of War: The Carousels, Tilts and Tournaments are the Images of Combats: The Shows in the Theatre have something of this, and commonly act some Hero, who hath been famous for Valour. Besides, in the most profound Peace, the Prince appears in the Equipage of War; he is surrounded with his Troops of Guards; those with whom he frequently converseth, are the Officers which command them; they exercise their Soldiers before his Face; they every Day demand the Word of him; they daily render him an Account of their Functions, and entertain him with nothing so much, as what relates to their own Profession. When he makes a Journey, it is rather the March of an Army, than a Progress: The Order they then observe is not much different from the Military Discipline. The Entries which he makes into the Towns, are like to the Intradoes of a Conqueror; they salute him by the Mouths of their Canons, and whole Volleys compliment his Welcome; they erect Triumphal Arches for him, and strew his Way with Palms and Laurels. Thus the Fortune of a Prince continually advertiseth him, that he ought to be valiant; insomuch, that if he fail in this Virtue, he can take no Pleasure in any Thing about him; and so, not taking any Pleasure, he must needs be miserable.   

CHAP. XXVII.  
Every Virtue hath a Pleasure which is proper to it: But this of Valour is the most sensible of all.  
BUT if he delight in the Images and Representations of Valour, without loving Valour itself, he will be always deprived of the Joy that attends this Virtue. Every Virtue is accompanied with a Pleasure which is peculiar and proper to it: and if she meets sometimes with Thorns, yet she never fails to crown herself with Flowers; and her Actions are all agreeable of themselves, or, to use the Expressions of some of the Ancients on this Argument, voluptuous. All the Philosophers have owned this for a Truth; not excepting those, whose Maxims were the most cried down. One cannot do a greater Injury to Virtue, than in establishing Pleasure to be the End of Man: Yet notwithstanding, those Persons who speak after this manner, will give us leave to search for Pleasure in the Exercises of Valour. According to this Principle, generally acknowledged, true Liberality in dispensing her Gifts, never sustains Loss; she pays herself by her own Hands, in procuring the Pleasure which she relisheth; and though she may meet with ungrateful Wretches, (which are but too common in the World) yet she sees they do themselves the Wrong, and is sorry for them, without complaining of them. One may say the same of all the other Virtues: Valour is that which hath the most sensible Pleasure; and which triumphs not only with the greatest Majesty, but with the most affable Gentleness. Nature, or rather Providence, will have it so, to sweeten the Labours of a Virtue the most painful; and to keep us from being discouraged at the Sight of the Fatigues which accompany it, and the Dangers which surround it. But Christian Morality furnisheth us with a famous Instance on this Subject: She includes Martyrdom under the Notion of Valour; and considers them who have suffered, as Champions, or as Heroes, victorious over Pain and Death. The First Fruits of the Joys of Heaven never appear so visible, as in the Martyrs; who went to the Dens, Stakes and Gibbets with a smiling Countenance, and who felt Transports of Joy in the midst of their Torments. Although they frequently received extraordinary Assistances from Almighty God, yet let us not doubt, but that the inward Satisfaction of Soul which attends virtuous Actions, did contribute much to this their Behaviour. But now, to speak here only of Military Valour, I believe I ought not to forget what one once said of Valour, That it was the only Virtue which had a kind of Fury with it. And it is remarkable, that those Things to which the Philosophers have attributed Fury, are accompanied with greater Pleasure than all others. Poesy is of this Number: We must grant, that this is that Part of Learning, which is sweet and charming. We may say, in a manner, that Valour is amongst the Virtues, as Poesy is amongst the Sciences: She has her Inspirations, and her Enthusiasms too: She elevates and soars above Nature itself. And, indeed, doth there not seem something more than humane in the famous Camillus, who was called the Second Founder of Rome; who, when his Thigh was pierced with an Arrow, he wrested it out of the Wound himself; and after this, as if he had been cured on the sudden, or that he never minded it, he falls upon the Enemy, and continues the Battle? Brasidas the Lacedaemonian did something more; he not only drew out the Dart which had entered his Body, but revenged his Wound by the Death of his Enemy that gave it. It is reported, that two Armies being engaged, there happened an Earthquake where the Field of Battle was, and the Soldiers perceived it not; as if they all had been under an Alienation of Mind, and were (as we may say) possessed with the Daemon of War; it was not possible for them to regard any other Thing than the Action they were engaged in, and the Means of carrying the Victory.  
There are yet other Reasons of this extraordinary Pleasure, which Valour bestows upon those who follow her Impulses, and practise the Exercises thereof. First, The Grandeur of the Effects which she produceth; as, the Taking of Towns and Provinces, the Subversion or Elevation of Empires; and, in a Word, the Catastrophe's which happen upon the Theatre of War, where we not only see Men who represent Kings, but where Kings themselves are Actors. Besides, Virtues are agreeable and pleasant, in that they make us victorious, either over others, or over ourselves: Over ourselves, in surmounting our Passions; over others, in abhorring the bad Examples, or in advancing us above the Good. All the Victories of the other Virtues are obscure, in Comparison to those of Valour; which shows that she must be Mistress of all other Passions less generous, since that, maugre their Counsel, she exposeth herself to the most terrible of all Things. She not only keeps at a Distance from the Examples of Cowards, but her very Presence puts them to flight; and forcing the Resistance of others, she reaps those Advantages, whereof our Eyes are Witnesses. In short, she opens a large Field to all the other Virtues, and furnisheth us with a copious Argument to exercise Justice, Liberality, Clemency and Moderation on: Insomuch that the Pleasures which accompany them being joined together, the Result is a Joy, the greatness whereof is scarcely to be conceived, and never to be expressed.  
The End of the First Book.    


CHAP. I.  
Valour ought to be accompanied with Justice.  
PLutarch saith, there is a great Difference between valiant Men. If he makes this Difference to consist in the Degree, that they are more or less valiant, there is nothing of Difficulty in it: Or if he understands it of the Manner of making War, we should easily apprehend his Sense. But he doth not mean so neither. He placeth this Difference in the Valour itself; and he allegeth the Example of Alcibiades and Epaminondas, as of two Men valiant to the highest Pitch: But they were not so after the same manner. In the mean Time, Morality teacheth us, that Valour is one and the same; and consequently, it must be said, that between two valiant Men, considered purely as valiant, there is rather a Resemblance, than any Opposition. To give a true Sense then to the Maxim of Plutarch, it is necessary that we ground it upon the Circumstances which ought to accompany Valour. The Example of these two Men which he propounds, leads us naturally to this Explication. Epaminondas was a Person of a sincere Probity; and his Valour was animated by this Motive. On the other side, Alcibiades sacrificed all to his Ambition; and, the better to accomplish his Ends, never examined whether the Means were just, or unjust. This appears, not only by the Conduct of his whole Life, but by an Expression that fell from him once, at Pericles' House, whither he went to give him a Visit: When they told him he was not to be spoke with, for that he was busy in making up his Accounts for the Athenians; saith he, Would not he do better to study a Way how not to give up his Accounts? Now, though this Athenian had a most daring Courage, and had signalised himself in the Wars by Actions of the utmost Bravery, yet his Reputation was not so clear as that of the famous Theban, who was so illustrious for his Virtues, that those that knew best how to judge of his Merit, did unanimously agree to place him in the first Rank of Heroes, not only of his City, but of his Nation; and to regard him as the greatest Man that ever Greece brought forth.   

CHAP. II.  
The Ancient Romans made a Difference between two of their most formidable Enemies, in considering one as a just Prince, and the other as a Man without Faith.  
THE Reflection we have made is confirmed by the Difference which the Ancient Romans put between two the most formidable Enemies they ever had; Pyrrhus, and Hannibal. They considered the First, as a Prince who had Faith and Equity; and whom they never mentioned, but with Esteem. They considered the Second, as a Captain cruel and perfidious; and they never spoke of him, but with Despite and Execration. We may observe the same Difference amongst the Conquests which the Romans made. The most intelligent of them, if they did advise the Destruction of Carthage, yet would not approve of that of Corinth. And although the advantageous Situation of these two Places was equally capable to eclipse the Glory of their City, and to draw the Seat of the Empire either into Greece or Africa, yet they esteemed the Surname of Achaicus was not so glorious to Mummius, as the Surname of Africanus was to Scipio: And that if it were just to demolish Carthage, and to punish her for the Mischiefs she had done in Italy; yet it was not just to inflict the same Penalty upon Corinth, from whom they never received any considerable Injury.   

CHAP. III.  
Just Wars must be justly managed. What sort of Wars are just: And what is requisite to make a War justly.  
VAlour is blame-worthy when it fights against Justice. Duella justa justè gerunto: Just Wars must be justly managed. All is comprised in these two Words. Wars are just when they are made for the Reparation of Injuries received, or for the Preservation of our lawful Rights; to which we may add, or for the Defence of our Allies. They are made justly, when Faith is kept in the Management, and Peace is propounded for the End. Pacem habere debet voluntas, bellum necessitas, saith St. Augustine. It would, indeed, be a strange Thing, if one should imagine that we were permitted to make War for War's sake, to exercise Violences and Cruelties, and to revel in Blood and Slaughter. Peace is a Thing which is absolutely good: War is not so, but upon certain Conditions. War (I say) ought to be considered as a Remedy which we ought not to make use of, but in Cases of the last Extremity, and which tends to the Preservation or (as we may say) the Health of the Body Politic. It may be compared to the violent Operations of Chirurgery, which makes Application of Knives and Fire to the Body of Man; but they are not designed to torment him, but to cure him. Farther, Faith ought to be kept. We know not how to excuse the Perfidiousness of Hannibal, at the Battle of Thrasimene: After having won a Victory over the Romans, whose General was slain upon the Place, he perceived a Body of the Infantry, of Six Thousand Men, who had gained an advantageous Fort, and that it was difficult to force them: He sent to them to surrender; and, indeed, they did surrender upon Terms; but, instead of performing what he had promised, they had no sooner laid down their Arms, but he put them all to the Edge of the Sword. The Stratagem which he made use of in the Battle of Cannae was not altogether so unjust; yet I have heard him condemned for it by some Persons, who, without doubt, will be thought too nice and scrupulous by Men of the Sword: He sent Five Hundred Numidian Horse, who presented themselves to the Consul Marcus Terentius Varro, as being willing to desert, and come over to him. The Consul put them in the Rear of the Roman Army; but afterwards, when they came to engage, and the Battle grew hot, the Numidians made it appear, that their Desertion was but feigned; for, turning their Arms against the Romans, they promoted the greatest Slaughter, in one of the bloodiest Battles that ever was fought. When Princes do not wage just Wars, or manage them justly, 'tis to no purpose for them to have Advantages and Success in Military Undertake; they are miserable still; for Vice is the greatest of all Misfortunes: And an unjust Victory hath with Reason been called an illustrious Crime. Occisarum gentium gloriosum scelus, Sen.   

CHAP. IU.  
Valour without Justice is not a Virtue, no more than Prudence.  
VAlour is then rather worthy of Blame than Praise, when she is not accompanied with Justice: She than loseth her Merit, and her Loveliness; she degenerates from the Nobleness of her Original, and sours into a Vice; or, at least, ceaseth to be a Virtue. So it is of Prudence, when she becomes unjust: When she doth not keep up to her proper End, instead of carrying out the Spirit of a Man to the Performance of dexterous and commendable Actions, she conducts, or rather bewilders him by the Shifts and Windings of Cunning, Imposture, and Infidelity; for we cannot give it more honourable Names. We do not call those virtuous or prudent, who are possessed of these sorts of Endowments. All their florid Parts beget get not any Esteem, Amity, or Confidence; but, on the contrary, they engender Fear, Contempt, and Aversion: And we are so far from choosing such to be our Guides, that we stand upon our Guard against their Advices, and consider them as dangerous Shelves and Snares. Valour is no less strangely changed, when she is allied to Injustice; she forfeits all her Reputation by such contagious Company, and instead of attracting Men's Vows and Acclamations, she extorts their Reproaches and Imprecations. We may apply to Valour the Saying of a Prince, concerning Constancy; who understanding that some Persons guilty of the foulest Enormities endured the Rack with incredible Resolution, These Men, saith he, must needs be impudent Sinners, who employ so good a Thing as Constancy, to shore up their evil Actions. We do not therefore call them valiant, who devote their Courage to Injustice; and instead of opposing Violence, commit it; and being obliged to serve as Asylums and Protectors of the Innocent, become their Enemies and Persecutors. If the Out-braving of Perils, and Defiance of Death, must needs merit the Name of Valiant, than we may allow it to those unhappy Wretches, who not only despise Death, but seek for it; and being seized with the Excess of Desperation, or a Transport of Frenzy, lay violent Hands on themselves, and become their own Executioners. It appears by this, that the Actions of Heroes require something more, than to expose a Man's self to Danger, and the Contempt of Death itself: Though that seems to be the Height of Courage, yet it is not true Valour; at least, it is no part of the Motive wherewith it ought to be animated; that is, the preferring the Sense of true Honour before our own Lives. According to these Principles, though the Saying of Agesilaus was excellent, when to one who demanded of him how he came to perform such great Exploits, he answered, It was by despising Death: Yet, not to abuse this noble Thought, it is necessary that we add another Saying of Cato the Elder; who tells us, In the Perils of War, he makes a great Difference between those that love Virtue, and those who are weary of their Lives. Indeed, it must be the Love of Virtue that animates Valour, and the principal Wheel that puts it into its due Motions. Zeal for Justice ought not only to be the Pretence, but the Cause of War: And a Prince is obliged to have the same Motive in prosecuting his Enemies by his Arms, as in arraigning Offenders by his Laws; for his Enemies are looked upon as convicted Criminals, the Declaration of War is their Sentence of Condemnation; and because this Sentence cannot be so easily executed as the others, he sends his Armies to be his Sheriffs and Executioners. And the same Effect which the Punishment of a private Criminal hath on a Nation, the Punishment of a Nation hath on the Universe; or, as we may say, in the great Republic of the World.   

CHAP. V.  
Examples against the strange Error of those, who believe the exact Practice of Justice to be an Obstacle to Valour.  
AND yet, notwithstanding all this, some Men there are in the World, who imagine, that the exact practising of Justice is an Obstacle to Valour. If, in the fixed Humour whereinto this fundamental Error hath cast their Minds, they are not capable to be disabused by Reasons, they ought to be cured by Examples. Marcus Aurelius is the most famous amongst the Emperors, for Virtue purely Humane. St. Lewis is the most renowned amongst all Kings, for Christian Piety. They were both very valiant. St. Lewis was the first that descended from Shipboard, into Egypt, in the sight of the Enemy; he fought with incredible Obstinacy in that Fight, where he lost his Liberty: And, during his Imprisonment, he discovered such a noble Assurance of Mind, that the Prince of the Barbarians being near Death, the Admiration that they had for the Virtue of their generous Captive, put them upon Deliberation whether they should not choose him for their Sovereign. As for Marcus Aurelius, he ended his Days in an Expedition in Almaigne: He underwent all the Duties of a Soldier, and a Captain; and had made great Advances, if he had not been surprised by Death. The Example of this Prince, and that of his Son, do well demonstrate, that Justice is serviceable to Valour, instead of being prejudicial to it; and that that Courage which is not founded in the Love of Virtue, is obnoxious to great Disorders. Commodus, the Son of Aurelius, had been carefully educated by his Father, with all the Exactness imaginable: This Education was in him joined with an auspicious Birth; he had a vast Genius; he was strong, dexterous, and of a good Mind; and nothing was wanting to make him a great Prince, but his Will to be so. His Father had no sooner rendered up his Life, but he thinks of nothing more than returning to Rome, though one might have well represented to him, that Rome was every where where the Emperor was. He abandons an assured Victory, and patching up a dishonourable Peace with the Alemaignes, sets forward for Italy, without being at the Pains to consider whether it would not beget ill Impressions of his Conduct, in the Beginning of his Reign. We come now from seeing an old Emperor, who had rather die under his Military Labours, in the Bed of Honour, than quit the Design he had form; and we see after him, a young Prince, full of Vigour, who, to wind himself out of the Fatigues of War, eschews an Enterprise, to which the Memory of his Father, and his own Honour, should have engaged him: Instead of embracing a lawful Occasion for the Acquests of Glory, he rather chose to expose himself to the View of the Romans, in the Equipage of a Gladiator; and by throwing of Darts, to kill Panthers or Lions in an Amphitheatre.   

CHAP. VI  
Why it is, that, at this Day, all the World hath not the Opinion they ought to have, upon the Obligation of joining Justice to Valour.  
IF all Men, at this Day, have not the Opinion they ought to have of their being obliged to join Valour with this other Virtue, (which is the Rule of all Morality) perhaps it comes from hence, that in this Monarchy, as in many others, they have made a Separation of the Gown from the Sword, as if they were distinct Functions; and do not think it proper, that the same Men might be Magistrates and Captains too. It is true, the Sovereign Administration of Laws and Arms resides in the Person of the Prince; but it is in no other properly, but in him, that this Union is to be found: And yet, in some sort, he hath declared himself for the Military Employment, since he every Day bears the Badges of it; and even in the actual Administration of Justice, he wears a Sword by his Side. But the Ancients did not determine of Things after this Rule. Amongst them, the Charge of Consul, that of Praetor, and many others, were no less for the Wars, than for Peace: Insomuch that there were some that, in a Moment, passed from the Tribunal, to the Camp; and, after having heard Causes pleaded, and been Pleaders themselves, were sent to command, and to fight, in the Army. Fabritius was a Man of an undaunted Spirit: Both the Cato's were exceeding valiant: And the same Justice which restrained them from suffering their Judgements to be corrupted, excited them not to suffer themselves to be vanquished in Battles. We find the like Examples in the Grecian History. Photion and Aristides had no less of Courage, than Integrity. They gave to Aristides the Surname of Just; they might as well have given him the Surname of Valiant. 'Tis true, he never commanded the Army in Chief; but he distinguished himself in all the Wars where he served, either as a Soldier, or as an Officer; and he behaved himself admirably well in the Battles of Marathron, Salamine, and Platea. Now, in the Republics of Greece, no manner of Profession could exempt a Man from his Service in the Wars; or, at least, was incompatible with Arms. We could name Philosophers, who have joined Justice with Valour. Socrates' saved Alcibiades in a Battle; and darting himself through the thickest of his Enemies, rescued him out of their Hands. Zenophon, after the Death of Clearchus, was one of the Captains in that famous Retreat, which, amongst the Critics in the Art of War, passeth for one of the finest Masterpieces that ever was performed.   

CHAP. VII.  
What is the Extent of Military Obedience.  
AS it is an important Thing, (SIR) for those who are destined to command Armies, to know to what Point they may extend this Command; and because You purpose Yourself to learn under the Orders of the King, Your Father, who teacheth the Art of Conquering, and of being victorious; we must not forget to remark in this Discourse, what is the Extent of Military Obedience. It hath sometimes been a Question, Whether Justice obligeth a Soldier to deliver up himself to a certain and inevitable Death, when his Commander puts him upon it. Some answer to this, First, That it is very difficult to find any Case so deplorable, but that there may be some possibility of escaping: For, after the Example of Alexander, when he threw himself into the City of the Oxydracians: And after that, of Horatius Cocles; who singly stopped an Army of Enemies, till the Bridge was broken down, and then, all wounded as he was, leapt with his Arms into Tiber, and saved himself by swimming. There hardly seems a Danger so visible, and so pressing, where a Man may not see some Glimmerings of Hope. But although we should take this Supposition in the Extent of its Rigour, yet we ought not to doubt, but that a Soldier, who hath received his Commands, must follow the Orders given him, though it were certain, that in the executing it, or in the endeavouring to do it, it would cost him his Life. The same Principle which wills us to hazard Life for the Preservation of Honour, commands us to sacrifice it for the same Reason; since if Honour were not more valuable than Life, we should not only not sacrifice it for the Preservation of Honour, but should not think it needful to hazard it. Besides, a private Man is in respect of the Public, as a Member is in respect of the Body: And it happens sometimes, that for the Preservation of the Body, we not only apply painful Remedies to the Part affected, but we wholly cut it off. This Reasoning is confirmed by Examples: As, by that of Leonidas; who, with his Three Hundred Lacedæmonians, (as we have mentioned in this Discourse) being at the straits of Thermopylae, to oppose the greatest Army that ever was; when he knew that this dreadful Army was ready to fall upon him, saith he to his Soldiers, Come, my Friends, let us dine now; we shall sup in the other World. The Roman History relates an Action very like this, and of an equal Number of Men, in the War against the Carthaginians. But if some will insist upon that which I just now hinted, that it may be these valiant Men, in these Rencounters, did not look upon their Deaths as altogether infallible; yet there were others, who did actually devote themselves to Death; as, Decius' amongst the Romans, and Codrus and Menecheus amongst the Greeks. And in our Modern Histories, we find Commanders of Ships, who being pursued, and sore pressed, without being either able to defend or save themselves, have put Fire to the Powder, and blown themselves up, that so neither they nor their Ship might fall, as a Prey, into the Hands of their Enemies.   

CHAP. VIII.  
Whether one may be dispensed with from following an Order in War, when he sees, in not following it, he shall bring greater Advantage to his Side.  
IT hath also been a Question, If, after a Military Order is given out, he who received it, may disobey it, when he sees, in not following it, he shall do a greater piece of Service for his Party, and that he shall be certain to accomplish a Victory? A like Question to this hath been propounded, in reference to Friendship: They demand, If a Man being charged by his Friend to do a Thing, whether he be obliged precisely to keep close to that which was prescribed him; or whether he may take another Course; when he assuredly knows, that by this Means he shall farther serve his Friend, who hath put his Concerns into his Hands? Many have thought, that he may do it: But, in the mean Time, they give us these two Cautions: First, To see if the Course which we steer, and which we prefer before the other, doth prevail so much over that which we have Orders to follow, that this Advantage be so considerable, as to make a Compensation for the Liberty we give ourselves to forsake the Will and Commands of a Friend, in his proper Interests. They advise us also to take care with whom we have to do: For if we should have to do with a stiff and self-conceited Person, wholly abounding in his own Sense, he will neither take our good Intentions, nor our good Success, for Reason; but, on such Occasions, interprets all sorts of Addresses, as Shifts to cover unfaithfulness: Then we must serve him according to his Humour, and not run the Risk of losing his Friendship. Some have extended this Question to the Commands which we receive from our Superiors; in which we must affirm, that the securest Way is, not to set up ones self as an Umpire of their Will; and that there happen very few Occasions, where he may be allowed to pass the Limits of a blind Obedience. Aulus Gellius, who sometimes makes Remarks particular enough upon Things of Antiquity, relates, how that Crassus going into Asia with his Army, and being desirous to besiege a Place, stood in want of a long and strong Beam, to make one of those Engines which the Ancients called Baleares, Battering-Rams, and with which they used to batter Towns: He passing by Athens, took notice of a Beam which was in the Gate, and which he believed would exactly fit his purpose; he wrote to the Architect of the Athenians, to send it to him. The Architect, who was an able Artist, knowing for what Design he intended it, sent him another, which he judged most proper for his purpose. Crassus calls him before him, and demanded of him, Why he did not exactly follow his Orders? Whatever Reason the Man alleged to justify himself, he caused him to be punished in the sight of his Army. Behold one who was rigorous to Extremity. We may say, this Roman used him as he would have dealt with a Soldier who had disobeyed his Orders; and that he pursued the Severity of Military Discipline. Indeed, in War we must obey punctually: And when Orders are given out, nothing can dispense with the Obligation we have to submit to them. This Maxim is sounded first upon this, That we ought never to do a positive Evil, for any Good that may happen thereby: And Disobedience in Matters of Discipline is an essential Crime. On the other side, We must keep up this Rigour to the height, otherwise, the Consequence would be dangerous, if by one single Exception, we should open a Door to Disobedience; and if we should give place to imagine, that there are Reasons, after a General hath given his Orders, which will leave one at liberty to follow, or not to follow them. The Notions which the Stoic Philosophers had of Valour, accords very well with this Principle. Through all the Extent of Morality, they refer the Design of Things to Prudence, the Distribution to Justice, and the Execution to Valour. Seeing then, the proper Office of Valour is to execute, she must be content with her own Function; and may always suppose, that there have been Consults enough preparatory for her; and besides, that she is not answerable for the Miscarriages of Deliberations. Other Authors, to show the Connexion of Virtues, have established this for a Maxim, That an Action can never be virtuous, if it be not done with Discretion, Equity, Moderation, and Resolution: And according to this Prospect, they have assigned to every Virtue a general Quality; as, Discretion to Prudence, Equity to Justice, Moderation to Temperance, and Resolution to Valour. We have no need to examine this Principle, in all its Circumstances: It is enough for this Reflection, that since Resolution is the Character of Valour, a Soldier must give Testimony of it, in keeping himself indispensably tied to Discipline, and in never starting aside from the Duties of Military Obedience.   

CHAP. IX.  
It is an Error to believe, that the Profession of a Soldier is condemned by the Christian Religion. If Anger be permitted in Battle, in what manner one ought to behave himself against a Friend on the contrary Party, when one meets him in the Fight.  
I Thought it needful here to touch that Scruple so weakly grounded, which makes some Men believe, that the Military Profession stands condemned by Religion: In this they are condemned themselves, not only by the History of so many Wars which are related in the Scriptures, but also by that remarkable Place in the Gospel, where the Soldiers consulted the Forerunner of Jesus Christ: He doth not exhort them to quit their Employment, but to be contented with their Pay, and not to mutiny. Here then is no Subject of Doubt, as there may be in that famous Dispute, which hath divided the Ancient Philosophers; and it consists in this; Whether Anger be forbidden in Battles, as a Passion altogether evil: Or whether it may be allowed as an Instrument of Valour. This last Opinion hath prevailed; the Lyceum is more followed in this Point, than the Porticus; and we believe, as there are commendable Desires, wise Fears, and innocent Joys and Sorrows, so there are lawful Angers; and in just Wars we may make use of this Passion, to inflame, or (as Aristotle speaks) to whet our Courage. What shall we say to this other Question which hath been propounded by the Ancients; that is, In what manner we are to behave ourselves against a Friend who is of the contrary Party, and with whom we meet in Battle? Must we avoid him, or fight him? We shall not undertake to decide a Difficulty, which so many great Men have left undecided. Let us forbear searching to the Bottom of this Question, for fear of finding Reasons contrary to a Sentiment which seems so humane: And let us preserve Respect for Friendship, which is a Virtue itself, or the most honourable of all Things in the World, next to Virtue.   

CHAP. X.  
Necessary Reflections upon Rashness.  
WHen Valour is regulated by Justice, she is far enough from Rashness. For, if a Prince be prodigal of his Life, he is unjust to his People; and he ought sometimes to regard Temerity under this Notion: For, if it be considered as a piece of Injustice, it appears more condemnable, than if it be considered but as a piece of Imprudence. That a Prince therefore may not become guilty of rash Actions, he ought to have something else in his Eye besides Perils; because one must not seek out Dangers for Danger's sake. And if one do expose himself to the Hardships of War, it is not simply to expose himself, and no more; but for the avoiding of some eminent Damage, or the obtaining some great Advantage. The Action of a Prince then ought to have this End, viz. A Reference to the Success of his Arms, which is possible, important, and conformable to his Rank. He fails in the first Condition, which is Possibility, if he does as Alexander did, when he threw himself from the Top of the Walls, into an Enemy's City: For, Could he pretend to take it alone! He fails to observe the second Condition, which is Importance, if he doth as the same Prince did, when, during the Siege of Tyre, he drew out a small Detachment of his Army, for I know not what Expedition against the Arabians; which was neither necessary for him, nor worthy of him. It is our next Business to consider, that an Action may be possible and important, and yet not be proper to the Quality of him that would execute it. Nothing is more possible, than to gain Forts by springing of Mines; and sometimes nothing is more important, than to use those Means; but we must not thence conclude, that the King ought to go himself to lodge the Miner. I see it would be impossible to enumerate the particular Things which are fit to be acted by a Prince, in the Wars; and which are not so: But it seems to me, that we may establish this as a general Maxim, That a Prince ought not to expose himself to Danger, but in such Actions where his Command is requisite. If he knows a Fort well, it is, to ordain in what manner it shall be besieged: If he visit the Trenches, it is there also to dispose his Orders: And if he appear in Battle, it is not there chiefly to imbrue his Sword in the Blood of some Soldiers; for the kill of three or four Men is not sufficient to turn a Battle; but it is here he ought to have his Eyes move through the whole, to shoot his Orders and Directions every where, and to be as the Soul to his whole Army. We distinguish between two sorts of Temerity; one a particular, the other a general Rashness: One consists in the hazarding ourselves, upon Occasion, against the Rules of Military Prudence; the other is, when we engage in a War far above our Force, or without being well prepared; as they say Caesar did in his Wars against Alexandria. Some distinguish also betwixt the Temerity of the Enterprise, and the Temerity of the Execution; which are not altogether the same as those we have mentioned, although they come very near to them. Common Sense gives us sufficiently to understand these Differences.  
It will be more important for us to consider the Causes of this Temerity; and they are, the false Admiration of rash Erterprises or Executions, when they have succeeded; and a mistaken Contempt of Conducts conformable to the Maxims of War, when they seem not to have enough of Bravery and Resolution. We may see this manifestly verified in a Conduct quite contrary, which Marcellus and Fabius once followed; one called the Sword, and the other the Buckler of the Romans. I should wander too far, if I should examine the Lives of these two Men, to make particular Remarks of this Diversity and Opposition. It is sufficient to say, that Fabius was truly the Buckler of Rome, and that he saved her from Ruin. On the other side, Marcellus is blamed for having precipitated himself into Dangers; and to have (as we may say) stole away his Life from the Defence of his Country, in a Time when she stood most in need of it. It was said by a famous Orator, That many Great Men, who have been wholly disposed to sacrifice their Lives and Fortunes to the public Interest, yet were not content to sacrifice to it the least Part of their Glory. He allegeth upon this Subject, the Example of Cleombrotus the Lacedaemonian, who lost the Battle at Leuctre: And of another, called Callicratides; who, during the Wars of Peloponnesus, engaged himself unluckily in a Sea-fight against the Athenians; and when they endeavoured to dissuade him from it, he answered, The Commonwealth of Sparta might send another Fleet to the Sea; but as for him, he could not make a Retreat, but to his Dishonour. But he deceived himself extremely in speaking after this rate; for if a Retreat were necessary, than it could not be shameful; and if the Engagement were rash, it could not be glorious. These Restrictions put You in Pain, (SIR;) and You look upon them as Fetters to Your Courage: You bear them so much the more impatiently, in that You know Alexander remains Conqueror at this Day; and having an Emulation for his Glory, You aim to be as valiant as he. Your Pretensions (SIR) are just; and You give us Reason to hope, that You will equal the Fortune, and surpass the Virtue of this famous Conqueror. But I most humbly beseech You to take notice, that one may be as valiant as Alexander, without being fond of following the Examples of his Temerity; provided one do not forbear imitating him herein by any Impulse of Fear, but out of a Principle of Reason. There are, in the whole, three or four Actions in the Life of that Prince, which are inexcusable Temerities, and the Success cannot justify them; since wise Men judge of Things as they are in themselves, and not by the Events. These sorts of Excess would be more condemned in our Days, after the Invention of Artillery, which hath given so many Advantages to Fortune. If he that formerly saw a Warlike Engine, cried out, that Valour would be lost, had seen these other Machine's, which not only represent the Noise, but the Effects of Lightning, and carry Death to a prodigious Distance, how would he have improved the Subject of his Exclamation! He that is undaunted, is as valiant as Alexander: But though, in this Greatness of Courage, he is not afraid of Death; yet, nevertheless, he is not obliged to expose himself thereunto, to no purpose. We cannot imagine any Thing more important than this Reflection, because the Valour of a rash Prince cannot produce the Effects which it ought to do: His Enemies conceive as much of Hope, as Fear at it; and they desire no more of him, than to confront Dangers, without Necessity; and they wait every Moment for that fatal Stroak, which shall put a Period to the Course of his Success, and that of his Life. If a Prince will be a Conqueror, he must first learn to overcome himself: And he must hold this for a certain Rule, That he that cannot command his own Courage, can never render himself Master of his Enemy's. The true Valour of a Prince doth not consist in avoiding Dangers, no more than in seeking of them; but to attend, and not to desert the Functions of his Command, for any Dangers that shall encompass him. If, in a Sea-fight, a Pilot should quit the Rudder, and run upon the Deck, he would be accounted foolhardy: And, on the other side; if, fearing to be slain in the Place where he ought to steer the Ship, he should go and hide himself in the Hole, he would be branded for an Errand Coward. Some have compared an Army to the Body of a Man. Iphicrates said, the Infantry were the Hands, the Cavalry the Feet, and the General the Head. Now, if the Head will either give or put by Blows, instead of leaving this Office to the Hands, it would receive as many Wounds as it makes Pushes, and would soon be put out of a Condition of fight. But if, on the other Extreme, finding itself afraid of Danger, it would hoodwink her Eyes, or turn away her Sight, it will so happen, that the Hands not being guided thereby, the whole Body will be left without Defence, and exposed to the Discretion of the Enemy. I allow, that these Comparisons are imperfect, (and we cannot frame Similitudes which will have an entire Exactness;) but we may draw some Light from them, and thereupon form a Definition of Valour, near approaching to that which the Ancients have left us. In Truth, this Virtue would not be ill defined, if we say, that Valour is the Science of those Dangers, to which a Man ought to expose himself; and of those, to which he ought not to expose himself. They who will be willing to conceive of it in this Sense, would pursue the Notion of Socrates, who called all the Virtue's Sciences; and particularly, gave this Name to Valour▪ It is related of him, how that being one Day at a Feast, where they brought in one of those sort of Women we see nowadays, who leapt over naked Swords, with the Points upwards and crossed; he made a Reflection, how well this Woman had overcome the natural Timidity of her Sex, in that she undertook a Thing wherein her Death had been infallible if she had stopped by the Way, and had not throughly performed so hazardous a Leap. Then, being come near to one of his Scholars, Valour (saith he to him) is a Thing which falls under Doctrine, and may be learned. If the Maxim of this Philosopher hath any Foundation, and it is true that Valour may be learned, who shall be the Master of this noble Science? Certainly, the Prince. His Examples therein are the Models, and his Orders are the Precepts. But in the Orders that he shall give out to others, or to himself, he ought not to make Justice to consist in Equality, but (as one formerly said) Equality in Justice. And if it be demanded whether the Danger ought to be equal in an Army; we may answer in the Affirmative. But we must understand it of an Equality of Justice, or Proportion; (that is to say) That the King must expose himself as a King, and the Soldier as a Soldier.   

CHAP. XI.  
The Dependence of Valour, in regard of God.  
THE principal Part of Justice is that wherewith God hath ordained us to serve him; and it consists in that entire Submission we ought to render him. Insomuch that we must not fail to consider in this Discourse, what are those Dependencies which the Valour of Men receives from the Power of God. It depends upon him in respect of that which we call Fortune, and in respect of the Body, and also of the Soul. First, The Things called Fortuitous are entirely in the Hands of God. There is no Courage whatsoever, that is able to foresee or prevent these sorts of Adventures. As, when Cambyses was going to make War in Lybia, Fifty Thousand of his Army were buried under a Mountain of Quicksands: Or, as in the late Times, the King of Sweden was going to the Isle of Fu●ne●, the Ice broke under one of his Regiments, whereby they were all drowned in the Sea. Scipio, when very young, was in that Battle which Paulus Aemylius gained over the last King of Macedonia. After the Fight was over, and the Victory carried for the Romans, they knew not what was become of him; and the Roman Army was returned into their Camp, without seeing young Scipio appear. Aemylius was extremely troubled thereat; and in the midst of the Success of this great Day, he felt no Joy, but what was embittered with Grief, by the Apprehension he had of having lost a Son of so great Hopes. They sent out into all Coasts, to learn Tidings of him, and called out aloud for him; but all to no purpose: They concluded then, that he lay mingled amongst the slain Bodies; and they were there searching for him, when, at last, they saw him return with Two more, and his Sword reeking in Blood: That is to say, he was so transported by the inconsiderate Fervency of Youth, as, having quitted the Body of the Army, he pursued the Macedonians so far, that he had perished a Thousand Times, if he had had to do with Men who durst have rallied: Nothing had been more easy, than to have encompassed and slain him. If this had happened, there had been no Scipio the Great, the Destroyer of Carthage and Numantia: And his Valour (as one may say) having been nipped in the Bud, he had not performed those illustrious Actions which have rendered him immortal in Story. On the other side, If Providence had given a longer Life to the Duke of Longueville, he might have been another Scipio; or, to compare him with the Chief of his Illustrious Race, which ended in him, he might have been another Dunois. 'Tis true, the Death of this young Prince doth not so much respect the first Dependence, of which I have been speaking, as the second, which ought also to be considered. The Valour of a Man depends on Almighty God, in regard of his Body. This is plainly visible in Wounds; seeing that Courage is unprofitable, when the Strength fails. What profitted it Pyrrhus to have a grand Courage, when having taken a Town by Force of Arms, he received a Blow with a Stone, thrown down from the Top of an House, which stunned him; and causing him to fall from his Horse, left him without Strength or Sense, in the Hands of those that took away his Life? What did this heroic Resolution of Mind profit Philopoemon, who was the sole Support of his Country; when, being the last in the Retreat, as he was first in the Onset, his Horse threw him down under him; whereupon, he was soon surrounded by his Enemies? We may remark this Difference, not only in Wounds, but in other Things; which, though they are less sensible, yet are more astonishing. It happens sometimes, that a valiant Person, who hath outfaced great Dangers with an undaunted Countenance, has yet been afraid when there has been no Cause of Fear: It must be no other than a kind of Dazzling, or an Imagination, which troubles and confounds him. It is in the Actions of War, as in those of Eloquence: The most complete Orators sometimes have been, as it were, Planet-struck, and have lost their Speech, without knowing any Reason for it. Men of the greatest Courage have been, as one may say, dumb-founded, as well as the greatest Genius's. History is full of such Events. And that which is observable here, is, that the Pagan's themselves have acknowledged this sort of Dependence; insomuch that the Sentiments they have had thereof have obliged them to consider these panic Fears as Envoys from Heaven. We shall find a Proof of this in that Expression which Virgil makes Turnus pronounce: Dii me terrent.  
'Tis true, these Idolaters most frequently knew not to what God they should ascribe these unexpected Horrors: And we may with Reason say, that as Children who know not their Father, address themselves sometimes to the first Man they meet, call him their Father: In like manner, the Pagans, through their Ignorance of the true Deity, when any Terror invaded their Spirits, or struck their Senses, they imagined presently that this was their God; and seeing the great Effects which Terror produced in their Armies, they took Terror itself for a God. There was at Lacedaemonia (as we have already observed) the Temple of Fear: And there was another at Rome, which was not only dedicated to Fear, but to its Effects; Pavori, & Pallori. All the Auguries, Expiations and Sacrifices which they made during the Wars, and before their Battles, came from the same Original; insomuch that, at the last, their Religion became wholly Military. They considered their Camp as a Temple: They did not only bring their Gods thither with their Eagles, but they placed the Eagles themselves in the Number of their Gods; they adored them, and they swore by their Name. When the Emperors had embraced the Christian Faith, they abolished this sort of Idolatry, as well as others. But to retain the Soldiers in their Duty by a visible Object of Religion, which might often put them in mind of the need they had of God's Assistance, and of the Dependence they had on his Power, they represented the Cross upon the Standard, which they called Labarum. Sozomen, the Ecclesiastical Historian, relates, That the Christian Soldiers considered this Ensign as a Thing sacred, wherein was the Sign of their Redemption; and that they rendered to it a peculiar Respect. As all these Fears I have been observing may arise from the Disposition of the Body, or of the Corporeal Faculties, I have ranked them under the second Dependence. But there is another Dependence behind: The Valour of Men is subject to the Divine Power in regard of the Soul. Indeed, a Prince who saith to God, Give me my Arms, preserve me my Life and Health, and I know well enough how to do the rest: That is to say, I know well enough how to improve my Courage myself: This Prince speaks like a Pagan. Our Souls depend entirely on him that made them. And if a valiant Man doth not believe that it is God which bestows his Valour on him, and that he can take it from him whenever he pleaseth; if the most hardy Man in the World imagines that it doth not belong to God to render him the most fearful Creature, he knows not God, neither doth he know himself. Our Souls, as we have said already, are the Operations of his Hands; they have continual Need of the Supplies of his Succours, to preserve the Qualities they have received. This Principle must be agreed, That as there are none but Spirits that can penetrate Bodies, so there is none but God can penetrate Souls. Insomuch that God is in our Souls, he acts immediately there, and it belongs to him to do that which he pleaseth. They deceive themselves extremely who imagine, that in making these Reflections on the Dependence of Men's Valour, it should be capable to abate their Courage, rather than to add more Assurance to it. For, as it is in Civil Societies, the Power of our Friends creates in us rather Confidence than Fear; so the Divine Omnipotence is so far from abating the Courage of those Persons that acknowledge and adore it, that it elevates and confirms it. And certainly I believe, that all the Exhortations that ever have been made, or ever shall be made, to excite Men to Valour, have not so much Force as one Sentence of the Old Testament, alleged by St. Paul; If God be for us, who can be against us? And that other in the Gospel; Fear not them that can kill the Body, but cannot destroy the Soul.   

CHAP. XII.  
What is the End of Valiant Actions.  
AMongst the Circumstances which attend Actions, the most essential of all is the End. What is the End of the Actions of Valour? The Pagans have propounded Glory for its End. Christian Morality advanceth higher; and to conceive aright of the Grandeur and Solidity of the Sentiments she inspires upon this Subject, it is needful for us to consider, it is in Valour as it is in other Virtues, and that Military Actions ought to be ranked amongst the good Works to which the Reward of Heaven is promised. There is in them this in particular, that they are not only more painful and difficult than the others, but they oftentimes put a Period to the Life of him that performs them; and so he embraceth Death in the actual Exercise of Virtue. If a Man closeth up his Life, stretching out his Hands to assist the Poor, and in the very Act of Alms-deeds and Charity; or if he render up his Soul at the Foot of the Altar, whilst he is applying himself to the Invocation and Adoration of God; such a Death will, with Reason, be accounted as a Favour, and will give us advantageous Thoughts of the Salvation of this Man. We ought to have the same Opinion of a Death which happens in Military Expeditions. And to make the Reflection more agreeable to this Notion, it is not necessary that it must be a War waged against Infidels; it is sufficient that, in respect of the Prince, the War be just; and in respect of the Subjects, that they are commanded by their Prince: Then we may say, that Death is a Sacrifice; and he that suffers it, is a Victim. It will be objected, without doubt, that this Sacrifice may not be pleasing to God, because it may suffer that Death, and yet otherwise be in an ill State. I agree it: But this is not a Case peculiar to Valour only, seeing that it may be also, that he who dies in the actual Exercise of almsgiving, or of Prayer, yet may not die in a good Disposition of Conscience. There is only one Difference to be observed, That almsgiving and Prayer do not, in themselves, expose a Man's Life to Hazard; but Military Actions are accompanied with Dangers, and it is their very Business to encounter them. Insomuch that we may soberly conclude thereupon, that a Soldier is particularly obliged to take care of his Conscience; and in that he is exposed to Death hourly, he ought always to be well prepared to die daily. It is not necessary to make a farther Research what is the End of valiant Actions, it is the same as of other virtuous Actions. Valour propounds no less an Aim, than the noblest of all Conquests; that of Heaven. She propounds an Immortality that is not feigned, nor metaphorical, as is that of Fame; but a Life truly eternal, and truly happy. As to that other Immortality, such as it is; I mean, the Glory which springs from Valour; we must see of what Dispositions Christian Princes ought to be in this Respect. I remember I have read a Notion in the Writings of an Ancient Father, which, at the first, surprised me; but it was very solid, and very necessary upon this Occasion. He preached to his People after this manner: Have a Care of my Reputation: It is your Interest, rather than mine, so to do: I have no need of it for myself; but I have need of it for you. So a Prince stands in no need of Honour for himself: He shall not be judged of God by his Reputation, but by his Virtue: He hath only need of it for his People, to maintain his Subjects in their Duty, to hinder his Enemies from undertaking any Thing against them; and, in a Word, for a Thousand Things important to the Public. We cannot doubt then, but that the Reputation of Kings is capable of producing great Effects, be it either in Peace or War: But all this hath no farther Regard to a Prince, but during his Life. Ought he then to neglect a Reputation which shall endure after Death? No, he ought not to neglect it; but on the contrary, to desire it; not for himself, but for others: Which is the Motive we have formerly touched at, and appears here to be manifestly true. Indeed, St. Lewis would not be e'er the less happy in Heaven, though all the World were ignorant of the Actions he did on the Earth; and we never had known he was valiant, or that he had made War in Africa, or had suffered Death as a Martyr. It is not then a Felicity to St. Lewis, that History speaks of him; but it is an Happiness for those who are now living. It is an Happiness in particular to You, (SIR) who are animated by this Example; and find in a Stem of your August Family, the most perfect Model that the Church hath propounded for Princes. As we may see by this, that the Glory of great Kings produceth great Effects, which are not confined within the Limits of their Days; so we cannot deny but that they may propound to themselves to do such Actions which will never be forgotten; and the Memoires of their Virtue will procure a continued and perpetual Benefit to the World. We shall be yet more convinced of the Truth of this Maxim, if we consider that there is a Proportion altogether equal, between the Times and Places. And, as when a Christian Prince desires to be known out of his own Kingdom, it is to render himself profitable to Strangers, as well as to his Subjects: In like manner, when he desires to be famed after his Death, it is to this End, that after having served his own Generation, he will be yet farther serviceable to Posterity.   

CHAP. XIII.  
Valour ought to be accompanied with Generosity.  
WHen one is animated from so noble a Principle, and hath propounded to himself so excellent an End, he sometimes prohibits himself the Use of those Things which, in themselves, are allowable. It is not enough to satisfy ourselves, that we are far from being guided by unjust Maxims; but we ought farther to hearken to the Impulses of Generosity. Many confound the Name of Generous, with that of Valiant; but in this they deceive themselves: All undaunted Men are not generous. Generosity is a Grandeur, or a Beauty of the Soul, which sometimes is not found in those who are remarkable for Courage. There are many who not being capable of the least Cowardice amidst the Dangers of War, yet have been guilty of great Weaknesses in the other Accidents of Life. We have borrowed this Term of the Latins, but we take it in another Sense than the Ancient Romans did; and have given it such a copious Signification, that we must consider Generosity in the full Extent, as a general Virtue, which is a chief Ingredient, and mingles itself amongst all the others, and adds a Flavour to their Sentiments. Indeed, as I remarked before, we call those generous, who have a comely▪ beautiful Soul. Now, as one single Feature well form does not render the Face beautiful, so one single Virtue does not make up a lovely Soul. Generosity is allied to all the Virtues, but she loves to be espoused to Valour, which opens to her a vast Career, wherein to exercise herself; it gives her the stateliest Theatre she could ever have had, whereon to show forth the Nobleness and Purity of her Intentions. It is by Valour that an Hero renders himself victorious; it is by Generosity that he does not sully the Glory of his Victory. It is by this that he remits the rigorous Justice of his Rights, and gives a Relaxation of hard (and yet just) Severities; that he scorns Revenge, though he hath the full Power to act it. He is sorry in his Chair of Triumph, for the Blood which he was constrained to shed in the Field of Battle, stretcheth out his Hands to relieve the Vanquished, and shows them that he is an Enemy to no People; and that he never designed any more than to correct their Insolence, Tyranny, and Injustice. Farther, (SIR;) Generosity is properly the Virtue of a Prince. You ought to esteem it as one of the principal Ornaments of your Life: And You cannot take too much Pains to cultivate those Seeds which You have received at Your Royal Birth, and to practise those Maxims which You have continually learned in Your excellent Education. That which shows, this Virtue appertains peculiarly to those who are placed in the highest Station, is, that she includes within herself a kind of Superiority: And we may always affirm in some sort, that he that does a generous Act, in that he raiseth himself up above him that receives it. And certainly, should a Subject, in making Protestations of his Loyalty, tell the King that he would serve him generously; though perhaps he may have no ill Intention, yet he offends against Decency. Nay, to go farther; If a ●●lan should so express himself towards God, he would speak not only barbarously, but impiously. No one may say, he acts generously towards God: And, that which is more surprising, we ought not to say neither, that God is generous towards Men: We ought to say, indeed, that he is good, and compassionate. Now, seeing that Generosity is a Virtue more sublime than mere Goodness, it may be demanded, Why, in speaking of God, we choose rather to say he is good, than that he is generous? They do wisely, that express themselves so: And this Way of Speaking seems to be founded on Reason. As Words are the Images of the Thoughts, we cannot well give a Name to God, seeing we cannot comprehend him. All Names, generally, are unworthy of his Greatness and Immensity, not excepting even that which was had in so great a Veneration amongst the Jews. We say of God, that he is good; because, as this is a Name we ordinarily ascribe to Men, so we believe, by our attributing it to God, that, at the same Time, he will not fail to elevate our Thoughts beyond our Expressions. But we forbear to give him the Name of Generous, which is one of the sublimest in Morality, for fear one should imagine that it would fill up the Idea he ought to have of the King of Kings, and that it might be truly worthy of his infinite Perfections. I am insensibly fallen into this Digression, and will improve it no farther, but tie myself at present to consider Generosity as a Virtue which ought to accompany Valour.   

CHAP. XIV.  
The greatest Men in Ancient History have not only been valiant, but generous.  
THE Heroes which Antiquity took care to render illustrious, were generous, as well as valiant. And it must be confessed, that the Actions wherein their generous Thoughts and Motions are most conspicuous, are the Passages of their Lives wherein we are most sensibly touched, and which engage us the more to esteem their Memories. Caesar lamented the Death of Pompey: And after he was passed over into Africa, conducting his Troops towards the City where Cato was, as soon as he understood that he had killed himself, I envy your Death, (cried he) O Cato, since you have envied me the Glory of saving your Life. Augustus also bewailed the Death of Mark Anthony: He shuts himself up with some of his familiar Friends, to condole the Death of his Rival, and to render Praises to his Merit: He reads to them certain Letters which he had received from him, and makes Remarks on the Neatness and Beauties of his Style: He shows them, that he was not only a Man of great Courage, but of a great Soul. Some will say, all these Regrets were but dissembled. May be they were so; but one may judge by this, how commendable and amiable Generosity is, since, in these Instances, Caesar and Augustus believed, that they ought to have had either such real Impressions, or, at least, the Appearances of them: And as they had the Taste and Ambition of true Glory, so they conceived it imported much to their Honour, to be sensible of the Misfortune of their Enemies; or if they were not so, yet to seem to be so. In speaking after this manner, I know I do not accommodate myself to the Opinion of those who make little favourable Constructions of the Tears of the two first Caesar's: In which it seems to me, they have but ill practised the Virtue whereof we are speaking, and that they have not used them generously. For, what Reason can they allege, that these two great Men, who, after the Establishment of their Sovereignty, had made their Clemency appear so conspicuous, should not then enter upon Considerations which might draw Tears from them? Valour and Generosity are not incompatible; and when one hath vanquished an Enemy, I cannot tell what should hinder him from deploring his Misfortune, after the Victory. We must confess, Envy is a malignant Interpreter; it will divine Things it never saw, and will make Comments on the finest Actions of the Heroes, in the worst Sense. But what can it say of Scipio, who, after the Battle at Zama, the Loss of which reduced the Carthaginians to the Roman Servitude, studied rather to preserve Hannibal, than to destroy him? He obliged the Vanquished to burn their Vessels, wherein consisted the Force of their Empire: But he did not oblige them to deliver up this redoubtable Enemy, who had ravaged Italy, and had brought Rome to the very Brink of Ruin; and who, besides, in the Use of Means which he employed to gain his Point, and to succeed in his Erterprises, sometimes transgressed the Boundaries of Justice, and was not always contented with the Rights of War. Scipio saved him nevertheless; and afterwards, going to make War in Asia, he saw him at Ephesus. Although Hannibal was fled to that very Prince, against whom this War was declared, yet the generous Roman treated him with a great deal of Honour. History observes, that this fierce African took the Way of him, but Scipio little valued Formalities; and during the Conversation they had together, he demands of him, who were, in his Judgement, the greatest Captains in the World. Hannibal answered, The greatest Captain in the World was Alexander, the Second to him was Pyrrhus, and the Third myself. His Conqueror was not offended with this disobliging Answer, but said to him, smiling, What would you have said, if you had conquered me? Then, replied the other, I should have counted myself the First. This Generosity of Scipio appears so much the more commendable, when we shall have compared it with the Inhumanity of Flaminius; who having found Hannibal in the King of Bithynia's Court, never ceased to persecute him so cruelly, that he caused him to kill himself. A Procedure so barbarous was condemned by the solid Part of Mankind, and a great Number of them Romans too. By this, Flaminius' blasted the Reputation he had acquired in his Macedonian Conquests. We conceive, I say, he ought to have spared the Life of a Man, who, after having escaped so many Dangers, was now arrived to an extreme Old Age. Hannibal was of such an Age, that had he wished Ill to the Romans, he was not capable to effect it; though, indeed, he ought not to have done it, nor to have wished it. This Action of Titus Flaminius puts me in mind of that of Lucius Flaminius, his Brother; which was extremely condemned: He was Commander of a Province; and one Day being at a Feast with a Person he loved, who being taken with an inhuman Curiosity, told him, she had never seen a Man's Head cut off. It is easy, saith he, to satisfy your Desire in that. And there being in the Prison some Criminals under Condemnation of Death, he sent for one into the Hall where the Feast was, and cut off his Head in their Presence. When he returned to Rome, one might have offered something by way of Excuse for a Conduct so brutal; that he whom he had caused to be executed was a guilty Person, and one actually condemned; and that he had only changed the Place of his Execution: One might have alleged the Glory of his Family, the good ●ervices of his Brother, and of himself too. But he was noted for Infamy; and Cato the Elder, by his Authority, as Censor, which he then exercised, expelled him out of the Senatorian Dignity. By this Example we may observe, that this brutish Action displeased even a People, who were accustomed to see the Combats of the Gladiators. So true it is, that valiant Men, when they are cruel, excite more of Horror, than Admiration; and that all who are Strangers to Generosity, offend not only Souls that are generous, but even those that are not so.   

CHAP. XV.  
Valour without Generosity, is imperfect; and Generosity without Valour, is imperfect also.  
UPon the whole, it concerns us, that we join both these Virtues together; I mean, Generosity and Valour: They are imperfect when they are separated the one from the other. Generosity without Valour, doth not seem to be sincere; and Valour without Generosity, does not seem to be reasonable: One appears as an Artifice, employed for the covering a Defect; and the other, as an Instinct whereby Nature blindly hurries him. A Prince ought therefore to unite both these in his own Person. Those who would represent Heroes in their greatest Perfections, form and imagine them according to this Idea: They animate them with a Desire of rendering all Mankind happy: They make them to protect the Innocent, though their Persons are unknown to them; sometimes to run through the Universe, to relieve the Oppressed: They inspire into them an ardent Passion for true Glory, and a noble Contempt, not only of all Things which are little and base, but of those which are common and ordinary. This Union of Generosity and Valour makes Magnanimity, which must be considered as the Perfection of Humane Virtues. The Title of Magnanimous is one of the most glorious Surnames that a Monarch can have ascribed to him. I wonder that we have never given it to any King: Those, amongst the Princes, which deserved it, have not taken it upon them. You may (SIR) take it one Day, after You have merited it; and as You have already an Ambition to render Yourself worthy of it, it rests wholly in You, to have the Advantage of enjoying it.   

CHAP. XVI.  
Divers sorts of Generosities, which serve to imhaunce Valour.  
AMongst the divers sorts of Generosities, (the Number of which are infinite) those which show an entire Unconcernedness, and a noble Contempt of Riches, serve extremely to raise the Reputation of Valour; because that Confidence which makes a Man valiant, and persuades him that he need never fear the Dangers of War, hath very much of Conformity with that Confidence which makes a Man liberal, and persuades him that he need never be afraid of Misfortunes; the Thoughts of which are a continual Terror to the Covetous. Alexander, before he passed over into Asia, gave away all that he had: And when one demanded of him, what he had reserved for himself: I have, saith he, reserved Hope. But if we find too much of Excess in this Conduct, (as, without doubt, there was) we shall find, however, a great Solidity in his Answer to Parmenio, at the Battle of Arbella. This old Captain sent to advertise him, that the Persians had fallen upon the Baggage of the Army; and that he could not save it, without immediate Succours. Alexander bid them tell him, That he must let that alone, and think of nothing but to overcome; for if the Macedonians carried the Victory, they should not only recover their own Baggage, but that of the Enemy's also. This Answer gives me Occasion to relate the Saying of Antisthenes' the Philosopher, and Scholar to Socrates: We ought, saith he, to wish all sorts of Goods to our Enemies, except Valour; for if they are defective in Valour, they will not be able to preserve the Goods that they have, and we shall not fail to render ourselves Masters thereof. One spoke ingeniously, who called Covetousness an Aenigma: For, in Truth, nothing is so odd, and unconceivable, as to join Poverty and Riches together; and to scrape up a Mass of Goods, on purpose not to make use of them. This Aenigma yet becomes more inexplicable, when Avarice meets with Valour in one and the same Person. If one should put the Question, and ask, Who is he that despiseth Life, and with Greediness heaps up Things which he believes are necessary for Life; and yet, nevertheless, makes no Use of those very Things he hath so eagerly hoarded up? Certainly, this would look like a Fable, and a Chimaera; and one could not imagine that it were ever possible to make a fit Application thereof. But such Examples are rare amongst Kings. Yet I will not deny, but that there may be found some Princes of the Character of that Roman, who was made Consul at a Time when they dreaded a difficult and dangerous War. He was much cried down upon the Score of Interest. And when it was demanded of another Roman, there at that Time, why he would be advised to give his Vote for such a Man to be Consul? It is, saith he, because I had rather be plundered, than sold. But, as I have said, these Examples are very rare. Valiant Men do make no other Estimate of Riches, but to use them; and they do not use them for any other End, but thereby to be enabled to do Things worthy of Glory. This appears, even from the Common Soldier, to the Prince: The great Desire of a Soldier truly courageous, is, to have serviceable Arms; that of a Captain, to have a Company well disciplined; and that of a Prince, to have strong and well-marshalled Armies: 'Tis for this that he reserves his Treasures. And we cannot but lament, or, to say better, we can scarcely bewail the Misfortune of those who perish by the blind Impulses of Avarice. 
Perseus.  A certain King of Macedonia, who was conquered by the Romans, had Troops able to defend him; but because these Troops cost him so much Money to maintain them, he disbanded them the Evening before the Battle which he had against such formidable Enemies. History farther observes, that after his Defeat, Covetousness was his predominant Passion; and when he fled away with all that he had that was of any great value, he was betrayed by a Captain of a Vessel, who embarked the Treasures of this Prince in his own Ship, and left him upon the Seashore, abandoned to all the World. Although we see him arrived to the most deplorable of Humane Disgraces, yet we have less Pity for his Misfortune, than Indignation at his Conduct.   

CHAP. XVII.  
Amongst all the Generosities in the World, there is none that brings so much Honour to valiant Men, as the Pardoning of Injuries.  
THere is no Point of Generosity that redounds so much to the Honour of valiant Men, as the Pardoning of Injuries. I shall only add this Word; They ought to consider, that in Pardoning they run no Risk, seeing they need not fear that this shall be imputed to them as Feebleness, or Want of Courage. Pompey hath been commended for burning the Papers of Sertorius, where were Letters would have made many a Roman's Heart ache; who desired not to see an End so soon to a War wherein he was engaged. We commend Caesar yet more, for throwing the Letters which were written to Pompey during the Civil Wars, into the Fire, without so much as reading them, for fear they might have inspired into him other Thoughts, contrary to those of his Clemency. The Subject whereof we treat will not permit us to forget those Generosities which are useful for the Success of Valour, and which are as the Instruments of Victories and Conquests. Aristides reconciled himself to Themistocles the Night before the Battle of Salamina. In that of Platea, when there arose a Dispute about the Rank which was due to the Athenians, and which they had held in all the other Wars of Greece, Aristides spoke to the Grecians in almost these Terms: We are not come here with a Design to dispute with our Allies, but to fight against our Enemies: We know, Places are not capable, in themselves, to create Fear, or inspire Valour. Behold us all disposed to receive the Posts wherein you will be pleased to put us; and we make Protestations, that we will endeavour well to defend them. I consider also the Conduct of Photion as a great Piece of Generosity, when he refused to engage in Battle, to which he was rashly desired by those whom he commanded. He persisted in his Judgement, notwithstanding the Murmurs of his Troops. And when they were almost ready to accuse him for Want of Courage, Brave Fellow-Soldiers, saith he, It is not you that can make me valiant, and it is not I that can make you Cowards. We must acknowledge by this Example, that amongst those Persons who propound Glory for their End, there may happen Occasions, where their Generosity shall raise them above the Sense of Honour: They love rather to be blamed without committing of Faults, than commit Faults without being blamed; and then finding their Consolation in the Testimony they render to themselves, they thence draw so much Satisfaction, that they are not over-solicitous for the Reproaches they never deserved.   

CHAP. XVIII.  
After what manner Soldiers ought to speak of their Exploits.  
WE must not make an End of the Reflections that we have pursued upon Generosity, without observing, in few Words, after what manner valiant Men ought to speak of their Exploits. And the first Condition which ought to be observed, is, Truth. In Time's past, by the Rules of the Roman Discipline, Lying in these sorts of Matters was a Crime, which they significantly called, The Crime of False Combats. And Polybius makes this Remark, That if a Soldier had vaunted himself before an Officer, of a Piece of Service he had not done, he was sure to be punished as soon as he was thereof convicted. To be full of ones own Praises, though there may be some Truth at the Bottom, is not always allowable. Homer's Heroes are represented as very valiant, but they sometimes talk like Braggadochio's; and because they boast of themselves at every Turn, in this they are not form according to the Idea of true Generosity, no more than in their continual Transports of Passion: Which made one of the Ancients say, Nihil soedius Heroibus Homericis: Nothing is more fulsome than Homer' s Hero's. The most celebrated Men of Greece and Italy have often failed in this important Part of Morality: And we must confess, that the generous Alexander was not always generous in this Point. The certain and sure Rule which one ought to follow, is, to consider this Self-applauding, either as hurtful, or unprofitable; or as necessary. When it is hurtful, we should forbear in point of Prudence: When it is unprofitable, we should forbear in point of Modesty: But when it is necessary, we must then strain a Point, and applaud our own Actions, as well out of that Justice which we owe to ourselves, as others. And therefore, when Historians describe Princes to us, who, to animate their Troops before the Battle, make Harangues, and tell them, that they have a Leader who fears no Dangers, and puts them in mind of other Occasions wherein he hath signalised his Courage, they do not consider this sort of Discourse as savouring of Pride, but as generous. A certain Prince at Sea, finding himself within Sight of the Enemy's Fleet, which was ready to attack him, heard one of the Soldiers say, The Enemy's Ships are much more in Number than ours; he turns himself suddenly to the Soldier, and asked him, For how many dost thou count me? This was not Arrogance, it was a becoming Confidence. And although, by these Words, the Prince comprehended his own Praises, yet the Expression was not less fine, than that which is related of Pelopidas: He leads his Troops through a Place where he did not believe he should be forced to an Engagement: In the mean time, he perceived the Enemies on a sudden, and that he could not avoid fight. Saith one of his Officers to him, We are fallen into the Hands of our Enemies. No, saith he; the Enemies are fallen into ours.   

CHAP. XIX.  
The Valour of a Prince ought to be accompanied with the Love of Learning.  
BEfore I come to observe another Qualification, which is advantageous when accompanied with Valour, I believe I am obliged to tell You, that it is not so essential, nor so important, as those two of which I have been discoursing, Generosity and Justice. We cannot treat Morality with too much Freedom and Sincerity. Virtue surmounts all other Things in such a manner, that when a virtuous Man is possessed of them, his Merit flows principally from that which is virtuous in him; and when he is virtuous, though he be not possessed of them, yet we must needs always observe in him a good Foundation for true Glory. We commonly fancy Old Rome to be the Seat of the Sciences; and, as a Polite Commonwealth, we cannot form this Notion of her in her Infancy; for, during more than Four Hundred Years, this People remained in a profound Ignorance, and an extreme Aversion for Learning. Those Men, though they were rough and unpolished, yet they were brave: And, as one hath said of them, They knew not how to do any Thing, but to till the Ground, and kill their Enemies. However, we admire the Heroes she produced in those first Ages; and we have Reason to admire them. We shall not find a less Interval of Time between the Foundation of Athens, and the Honour she had to be the Mother of the Arts. Since she became so famous for Eloquence, she produced a great Captain; who, though he had not an ordinary Politeness for an Athenian, yet he gained Battles at Land and Sea for them: And of whom one said, Cimon was as valiant as Miltiades, as prudent as Themistocles, and more just than either Themistocles, or Miltiades. Although he had not so much Agreeableness of Spirit, as he had Grandeur of Soul, yet he acquired immortal Renown. They placed him in the Rank of the Illustrious, and have wrote his Life. And if we may observe therein some little Defect, yet a slight Indecency is not capable to sully the Glory of his Reputation. On the other side, Though Princes are endued with Politeness; yet, if those other more solid Qualities, which we have touched upon in this Discourse, are not conspicuous in them, we must ingenuously confess the Truth, they cannot acquire a true Esteem in the World: And if they desire to be numbered amongst the Heroes of it, their Ambition meets with so many Obstacles, that it is impossible to surmount them. But behold the Judgement one ought to make upon the Sciences, that so we may not ascribe too much to them, nor derogate too much from them. They are to be esteemed for Three Things: First, They are able to inspire virtuous Notions. Besides, When they accompany Virtue, they appear more refined, and are rendered more amiable. And Lastly, They are useful to preserve the Memoirs of Grand Achievements; whether it be by the Pen of him that performed them, or by that of other learned Men, who dedicate their nocturnal Studies and Labours to his Honour.   

CHAP. XX.  
Without the Assistance of Learning, a Prince knows not how to immortalize his Actions.  
IT would be difficult to find Princes, who, after having form a Design of distinguishing themselves from the rest of Mankind by their Valour, have not, at the same Time, apprehended, that they stand in need of the Assistance of the Learned, to eternize the Memory of their Exploits. One Day Alexander finding himself oppressed under the Weights and Fatigues of War, cried out, If you did but know, O Athenians, what I suffer, to merit your Praises! Amongst the Treasures of the Spoils of Darius, they found a Cabinet of inestimable Value. And at an Entertainment in the Presence of Alexander, his Courtiers ask what it was he would put into so precious a Cabinet: I designed, saith he, to put Homer' s Works into it. And he used it actually for that purpose. Amongst those they call the Twelve Caesars, the greatest in Esteem are the Two first. We may add to them Vespasiam. I shall say nothing upon the Two first, for them we should speak but too much: But Vespasian had no less a Love for the Arts, than either of them. It was he, whose Protection and Encouragement brought forth a Swarm of fine Wits; which, without doubt, must give place to those who were in the Time of Augustus; and yet, nevertheless, they merit very great Esteem. Pompey lowered the Consulary Fasces before Possidonius his House, when he went to give him a Visit. Trajan made Dion Chrysostom sit on one Side of him, in his Chair of Triumph. Scipio ordained, that the Status of Ennius should be placed upon his Monument: And another was erected in the public Place, to the Honour of Claudian, by the Order of Arcadius and Honorius. Charlemaign and Francis the First were, in their Times, the Fathers of Learning. Philip Augustus was also found of it. There is at this Day extant a kind of History in Verse, called the Philippeids. He honoured the Author with his Royal Favours; and though it was not worthy so great a Prince, that was his Misfortune, and not his Crime. Charles the Fifth followed these excellent Examples. He esteemed the Learned, and the Sciences: And if he did not make therein so great a Progress as was expected, under the Conduct of that sage Governor whom Lewis the Twelfth had provided for him; and improved not so much as was hoped he would have done, under the Care and Pains of a Tutor who afterwards arrived to the Supreme Pontificate; yet he signified his Sorrow for it. History observes, that an Harangue in Latin having been made before him at the City of Genova, when he understood not the meaning of it; It happens now (saith he) what I have long Time foretell; that I should repent one Day, that I had not applied myself to Study. Nay, even Hannibal himself had a particular Affection for Learned Men. And the very Turks themselves, who pass for Barbarians (and so they are in many Things, yet) would seen in this to give some Ground to their Reputation. Those who are famous, above others, in their History, are, Mahomet the Second, and Solyman: The one extended the Bounds of the Empire, and the other established it: They both of them took care to cultivate their Genius. The Education which these Infidels bestow on their Princes is not very far from this Maxim: They teach them the Persian Language, to enable them to read their History and Poesy. In Truth, they are but irregular Works, in comparison of those which the Greeks and Latins have left us: Their Chronology is fabulous, and their Eloquence adulterate. But if they delight in this mean sort of Learning, because they understand it; it is very probable, that if they were acquainted with more perfect Sciences, they would better esteem them.   

CHAP. XXI.  
How the Qualities of Wit or Parts serve to enhance the Esteem of a valiant Man.  
IT is a common Opinion, saith Tacitus, that Soldiers, take them generally, are seldom polite: And therefore the refined Qualities of the Soul serve extremely to increase the Esteem of a valiant Man, because they make a glorious Exception from this General Rule. And besides, they make it apparent, that his Courage is not a blind Transport of Anger, nor an inconsiderate Heat of Youth, nor the Effect of any other Principles less commendable; but a true Virtue, conducted by the Light of Reason, and animated by the Emulation of good Examples. Farther; All Things which have any Relation to the Arts, contribute so highly to the Glory of a valiant Prince, that we many times admire that in him, which we scarce take notice of, or perhaps blame, in another Person. Though Agriculture be never so innocent a sort of Life, yet if we should see a Prince delight in it, who had never acquired a Reputation in War, when Opportunities have courted him thereunto, we should scarce forgive him this Fondness; nor should we endure to see him dress up Palms and Laurels, who knows not how to merit Crowns. But the Lacedaemonian, who saw Cyrus the Younger in his Gardens, conceived a quite contrary Opinion: The Adventure is remarkable; and as it had respect to a great Prince, and an illustrious Private Man, it seems to me not unworthy to be related to You. Lysander, whom Courage and Victories had rendered very famous, was sent Ambassador from the Lacedæmonians, to Cyrus, surnamed The Younger, to distinguish him from Cyrus who founded the Monarchy, and who, according to the common Opinion, was slain in his Wars against the Scythians; he was then in the City of Sardis, the Metropolis of that Realm, which the Persians had made one of the Provinces of their Empire, and which they had conquered from the rich and unfortunate Croesus. There was a Conformity of Merit between the Prince and the Ambassador, the Result whereof was, a Complacency in the Society one of another. Cyrus' treated him in all Things worthy his Grandeur: And one Day taking him into his Gardens, which were kept by his Order, with Royal Expenses, Lysander could not forbear to admire the Stateliness of the Trees, the Length of the Alleys, the Compartment of the Parterres, the Abundance of Flowers, and of Fruits; and, above all, the fine Order wherein every Thing was disposed. When Cyrus perceived him in this Surprise, You do not believe (saith he to him) that all this was my Invention. I drew the Platform myself; and, amongst these Trees, you may see some that were planted with my own Hands. The Ambassador was then more astonished, and cast his Eyes upon the Magnificence of that Prince's Habit, which was nothing like that of a Gardener; and thinking, at the same Time, upon the Glory of his Actions, You are happy, cries he, O great Prince, forasmuch as in you Virtue is joined with Fortune. This was the Opinion he had of the Merit of Cyrus, which caused him to make that Reflection. For, if he had had to do with a Man whom he had not esteemed for his Courage, he had despised this Adventure, instead of admiring it. He would not have been surprised, that an effeminate Prince should seek out such Amusements, to divert his idle Hours: And it would have been the Subject of his Indignation, to have seen him take more Care to plant his Trees, and dress his Gardens, than to govern his People, and command his Armies.   

CHAP. XXII.  
Continuance of the same Reflections.  
I Know not how it happens; that Wit which one would think should help to conceal the Defect of Courage▪ serves rather to discover it. Whether it be, because a Man of Wit hath more Eyes upon him than others, and one or other will spy out his weak Side: Or whether it be, that Envy endeavours to find some Defect in him, which seems to make an Atonement for the Displeasure it hath conceived for the Advantages he possesseth: Or whether it be the Artifices he makes use of to avoid Dangers; discover the Fear wherewith he is agitated. As one may observe amongst the Animals; those that are fearful, appear to be so much the more, as they have Cunning joined with Timorousness. Wit is then a Light which discovers equally the Good, and the Bad: And Cowardice, instead of finding an Asylum, wherein it may hide itself, meets with a Flash, which betrays it, and renders it more exposed. It must also be owned, on the other side, that the Valour of a Prince makes a greater Figure, when he is Master of an happy Genius, and hath taken Pains to cultivate it. Then we are ravished to see that, under what Circumstances soever he appears, he comes off with Advantage; knows how to act well, and to speak well, that he can inspire Fear into his Enemies, and Love into his Subjects. Then a Thousand happy Expressions fall from him, which all the World collects with Care; and they being spread amongst the People, redouble the Esteem they have for their Sovereign, and confirm them in the Love of Loyalty: They are transferred to After-Ages, and are as eternal as the famous Sayings of the Lacedæmonians, which have been as faithfully preserved as consecrated Relics; but had never been derived down to us, had they not been spoken by one of the most valiant Nations in the World. A King who joins the Qualities of Address to that of Courage, and Eloquence to Undauntedness, makes present Repartees and Replies to premeditated Discourses: He indicts Letters, which bear the Character of his Dignity; and may be his own Historian, if he will himself: He relisheth and understands what is sweetest in his Triumphs, the Encomium of his Virtue: And, amongst all the Praises they bestow upon him, he distinguisheth those which Posterity may be ignorant of, from those which ought to be immortal. All the Arts and Sciences conspire together for his Glory; and are equally alured to this Devoir by the Renown of his Actions, and the Equity of his Judgements. A Roman, that had been Consul, writing to a learned Man whom he had recommended to Caesar, and upon whom Caesar had bestowed his Friendship, Rejoice, saith he, in that you are introduced into a Place, where they understand you are worth something. Under the Reign of an illustrious Prince, the Homers, the Demosthenes', the Thucydides, all speak the same Language. This Consideration is that which continually charms their Nocturnal Studies: And what Pains soever they are at, this is that which sweetens and renders them agreeable. They feel a sensible Joy, that their Hero, who knows how to make Conquests, and reap Victories, knows also in what manner they ought to be celebrated. They are ambitious of his Approbation, as the most noble of all their Recompenses; and submitting their Works to him, to whom they have consecrated them, they esteem themselves happy, that he who is the Object of those Praises, is, at the same Time, the Judge and Dispenser of them.   

CHAP. XXIII.  
The Learning of a Prince ought not to be affected.  
FInally, The Learning of a Prince, to make it worthy of Valour, ought not to be affected, as was that of Adrian, who took a Pride in attempting those Things wherein he never succeeded; or as that of Tiberius, who made use of an obscure Language, although he was able to express himself as clearly as any; and by his odd Opinions of the Merit of Authors, preferred those who were little known, and less esteemed. He tired the Grammarians of his Time with ridiculous Questions; sometimes addicted himself to an insatiable Curiosity in Learning, which Seneca justly styles an Intemperance. King's ought to shun this, as a Rock; and to consider, God hath not sent them into the World to shut themselves up in a dull Solitude, and to poor all their Life-time upon dead Men's Labours; but to appear upon the Throne, to enlighten the World by their Presence, and to live continually in Action. There is no Part of Science, but what is capable to take up a Man's Life-time, if he will search into the vain Quirks and Subtleties of it, and not be content with necessary Deductions. These sorts of Excess will be injurious to a Prince, although they arise from a Desire to apprehend the Bottom of those Arts which have a more immediate Relation to Royalty or Valour. It seems, the Knowledge of the Laws cannot be too well understood by him, seeing that we exercise Justice in his Name. And likewise, that he cannot be too well skilled in Fortifications: He hath Forts himself, and so have his Enemies; and therefore he ought to know how to defend the one, and attack the other. Yet if he will altogether dive to the Bottom of these Arts, and refine upon them, so well as the profoundest Lawyer, or the most able Engineer, he must do nothing else during his whole Reign. The Extent of his Employs oblige him to divide himself: The Character of Sovereignty is, to have a general Inspection over all. A King knows enough of the Arts and Sciences, provided he can but know when he is well or ill served, not only in respect of Zeal, but of Capacity: Then he is a Lawyer, and an Engineer, by those that are so; and he makes their Science his own. We cannot carry this Reflection too far; for, through the Want of this due Consideration and Guidance, many Princes come short of that Glory which waited for them; and never filled up the Grandeur of their Dignity so much as they were capable of. It has ofttimes been said, it is with a Realm, as with a Ship; and with a Sovereign, as with a Pilot. A Thousand Workmen contribute to the making of a Ship, or to its Tackle: One furnisheth her with Anchors; another, with Masts or Sail-yards; others, with Cables or Sails. If a Pilot propound to himself, fully to understand every of these particular Matters, and to make them himself, with his own Hands, either Canvas or Cordage, he will run a great Hazard, never to acquit himself well in his own Profession: For, one of these two Things must follow; that either he will learn this Art out of his Ship, and by consequence, abandon the Conduct thereof; or he will apply himself to it during the Course of his Navigation, and then we cannot think ourselves safe with him, but shall have Reason to fear, that his continual Distractions will soon occasion a Shipwreck. There are some Arts which a Prince ought to condemn, and others which he ought to despise; some which he must leave to others, and forbear himself; and there are others which he may understand without practising them. In short, There are some which he may practise too; nevertheless, without entering into Concurrence or Partnership with those who make a Profession thereof.   

The Conclusion of the Work.  
WHen a Prince knows how to make so judicious a Difference; when (I say) his Knowledge in that Part of Learning which is necessary, and his Love generally to all the Sciences, is joined to Generosity and Justice; and that these Qualifications united together, accompany Valour in the Person of a Prince; out of this Composition results an Hero, which becomes the Delicacy of the whole Earth. It is by this Means, that such may pretend, not only to equal, but to surpass the greatest Men of Antiquity. And it seems to me, that what they call, Field of Glory, aught to be considered as a Race-Course, where the Prize is not yet adjudged; because we cannot know whether those who have already exercised there, shall not be surpassed by some of those who are now exercising in this Field, or that shall hereafter enter thereinto. The Cyrus', the Alexanders, the Caesars, the Constantine's, and the Theodofius', have appeared in this Course with great Splendour: But how great soever their Reputation hath been, yet it hath not foreclosed our Hopes: That when our Modern Warriors do aspire to outdo them, considering the vast Gifts they have received from Heaven, their Ambition will not be found Temerarious.  
I have said nothing but what the Heroic have made appear by their first Motions and Active Inclinations: And if any thing render this piece agreeable, it will not be that Novelty, which is, however, one of the greatest Charms in the Products of Wit; but I am assured, the Brave will have the same Pleasure that one has, when he hears that Praised which he loves. And besides, as the Rulers of Virtue are the true Commendations of those that Practise them, I do not doubt, for that Reason, but that this Discourse will one Day become their Encomium.  
FINIS.