OF WISDOM.  
THREE BOOKS.  
Written Originally in French, BY THE Sieur de CHARRON.  
With an Account of the AUTHOR.  
Made English By GEORGE STANHOPE, D. D. late Fellow of King's-College in Cambridge, from the best Edition, Corrected and enlarged by the Author a little before his Death.  
LONDON, Prin●ed for M. Gillyflower, M. Bentley, H. Bonwick, J. Tonson, W. Freeman, T. Goodwin, M. Wotton, J. Walthoe, S. Manship, and R. Parker, 1697.   


THE Sieur de CHARRON's Three Books of WISDOM Made English London Printed for Mat Gillyflower M: Bentley H. Bonwick. J. Tonson. W. Free man T. Goodwin M. Wotton J. Walthoe S. Manship and R. Parker.    

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM Lord Dartmouth.  
My Lord,  
IT is now near Two Years, since I was desired to employ some of my leisure Hours in considering this Book, and putting it into a Condition of becoming somewhat more useful and acceptable, than (it may without any suspicion of Vanity be said) the former. Translation could pretend to be. A little Time spent in the Perusal satisfied me, that there was Matter in it not unworthy my Pains, and such as it was great Pity Men should want the Knowledge of, who understand not the Original. And as unreasonable did it seem, that others should be discouraged from enquiring into this Author, by the Misfortunes which naturally attend even the best Undertake of this Nature, when Time, and Improvements of Language have given another Turn to Writing, and created a Disrelish for every thing, which is not suitable to the Genius of the present Age.  
The greatest Difficulty which lay upon me, was that of finding Opportunities, in the midst of those more important Cares of my Profession, which neither This, nor any other Attempt or Consideration, however commendable or beneficial in itself, must prevail with me to neglect. But here I found even my Duty assisting; for That requiring part of my Attendance in a Place of somewhat more Retirement and Ease than where Your Lordship's Father was pleased to fix me, I made use of those Advantages to this purpose, and finished much the greatest part of the following Book, in a way of Diversion, as it were, and unbending from severer Studies, and a more Laborious Station.  
The particular Liberty taken by this Author, is a Qualification, which the present Generation, at least in our Parts of the World, will certainly be fond of. But it happened to have the same Effect upon Him sometimes, which we are not much to wonder if we find very frequent in those of less Judgement; and that is, over-straining Points of Dispute, by affecting to say all, which either the Case will bear, or which any other Person hath said before. This gave Occasion for my interposing sometimes with an Advertisement; and that I hope in such a manner, as may not have injured the Author, while it designs the Benefit and Security of my Reader. One thing only I cannot forbear adding upon this Occasion, that in the midst of all his Free-Thinking, he constantly expresses a due and absolute Deference for Revelation and Divine Truths. And This indeed was by no means the Effect of his Profession, but of his Judgement; for Your Lordship is too discerning, not to know, that, as a little and superficial Knowledge in Physic makes Men Quacks, so it is not the Abundance, but the Defect of Reason and good Sense, which makes them Infidels and Sceptics in Religion.  
How little the Sieur de Charron suffered his Thoughts to be under the Bondage of any private Respects, will be sufficiently evident to any considering Reader, from sundry Instances. Particularly from what he hath delivered upon the Subject of Government, in his Third Book: In which, tho' some Moot Points may seem a little uncouth to Us of this Nation, yet if we reflect upon the Constitution, under which he lived, we shall rather have occasion to wonder at his admitting so few reserved Cases, than mentioning so many. Besides, that even those mentioned would be of no mighty ill Consequence, if always confined to those Conditions, and Occasions, which He hath tempered and restrained them with. But, passing from the Mysteries of State, and pressing unusual Emergencies, to the Ordinary Measures of a Public Administration, there is somewhat of an Air so full of Ingenuity, and such regard had to the Great Ends for which Government was instituted, as a very gentle Application would think an Encomium upon the English Constitution, and a sort of Prophetic satire upon the late Oppressions of a People to whom he stood nearly related.  
Upon the whole Matter (My Lord) I have Reason to hope, This may prove not only a Book of Good Entertainment, but Great Benefit, to Persons who have the Capacity, and will give themselves the Pains, to consider it. Were it not so, I should not have thought it worth my Trouble; and should yet much less have presumed to make an Offer of it to Your Lordship. I can with good Confidence say, that no Man is better qualified to be a Master of the Subject it treats of. The particular and intimate Knowledge of Your Abilities, which my being Honoured with the Care of Your Lordship at the University gave me, would bear me out in delivering more upon this Occasion, than Your Modesty will permit. And indeed the General Opinion of all that have the Honour of Your Lordship's Acquaintance, saves You that Decency, and hath prevented me in this Point. The Manly Sense, and Wonderful Penetration, which appeared very early in You, have given me many pleasing Reflections; and I am sure are Foundation sufficient for making Your Lordship a Greater Ornament and Honour to Your Family, than even that Nobility which You have by Descent.  
But I must beg leave (My Lord) to put you in mind, that besides Your Own, Your Lordship hath a mighty Stock of Honour and Esteem to set out upon, derived from the Memory of a Father, than whom Few, if Any, of his Condition, are more universally loved and admired. I say, loved, my Lord, for This, as a more rare, so is it a more valuable Tribute, than that of Honour, to Persons of Quality, and in Great Offices. For where so much is paid to the Station, we can make very little Judgement, what is sincere, and what is the Effect of Formality, or Fear, or Interest. But in His Lordship's Case there was something so Distinguishing, in all the Respects paid to Him, as plainly showed a particular Regard to his Person, and that the outward Testimonies were not Things of Course, but that he had engaged the very Hearts of Those who paid them.  
I will not so far seem to distrust Your Lordship's Acceptance of this Address, as to make the least Apology for it. You will interpret it, I doubt not, as a Testimony of the Honour I have for You, and a Desire to publish my having it, to the World: And Your Lordship will do me the Justice too to believe, that were it in my Power to give any other Evidence of This, than such an open Declaration; nothing should be wanting on my Part, which might prove the Sincerity of those Professions I am Proud to make, of being,  
My LORD, Your Lordship's most Obedient, and Most Devoted Servant, Geo. Stanhope. Lewisham, May. 6. 1697.   

A TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS of the First BOOK.  

THE Introduction, Page 1  
Chap. 1. Of the Formation of Man, Page 15  
Chap. 2. The First and General Distinction of Man, Page 22  
Chap. 3. Of the Humane Body and its constituent Parts, Page 25  
Chap. 4. Of the singular Properties of the Body of Man, Page 30  
Chap. 5. Of the Advantages of the Body, etc. Page 32  
Chap. 6. Of Apparel for the Body, Page 41  
Chap. 7. Concerning the Soul in general, Page 45  
Chap. 8. Of the Soul in particular; and First, of the Vegetative Faculty, Page 74  
Chap. 9 Of the Sensitive Faculty, Page 76  
Chap. 10. Of the Senses, which are the most Exalted and Noble Parts of the Body, Page 80  
Chap. 11. Of Sight, Hearing, Speech, Page 102  
Chap. 12. Of the other Faculties, viz. Imagination, Memory, and Appetite. Page 109  
Chap. 13. Of the Intellectual Faculty; which is Peculiar to the Humane Soul, Page 110  
Chap. 14. Of the Parts of the Humane Soul: And First, of the Understanding, which is its Noblest Function; Imagination, Reason, Wit, Judgement, etc. Page 129  
Chap. 15. Of the Memory, Page 157  
Chap. 16. Of Imagination and Opinion, Page 158  
Chap. 17. Of the Will. Page 163  
Chap. 18. Of the Passions in general, Page 168  
Chap. 19 Of Love in general and at large, Page 178  
Chap. 20. Of Ambitiom, Page 179  
Chap. 21. Of Avarice, and the Passions opposite to it, Page 190  
Chap. 22. Of Sensuality; and Carnal Love in particular, Page 197  
Chap. 23. Desires. Page 201  
Chap. 24. Hope and Despair, Page 204  
Chap. 25. Of Anger. Page 205  
Chap. 26. Hatred. Page 213  
Chap. 27. Envy, Page 215  
Chap. 28. Jealousy, Page 216  
Chap. 29. Revenge, Page 217  
Chap. 30. Cruelty, Page 221  
Chap. 31. Grief, Page 223  
Chap. 32. Compassion, Page 233  
Chap. 33. Fear, Page 234  
Chap. 34. The Second Way of considering Man; which is, by stating the Comparison between Him and Other Animals, Page 240  
Chap. 35. Of the true Value, the Continuance and Description of Humane Life, and the several Parts or Stages of it, Page 274  
A general Draught of Man, Page 288  
Chap. 36. I. His Vanity, Page 291  
Chap. 37. II. Weakness, Page 301  
Chap. 38. III. Inconstancy, Page 328  
Chap. 39 iv Misery, Page 331  
Chap. 40. V Presumption, Page 360  
Chap. 41. Of the Differences and Inequality of Men in general, Page 380  
Chap. 42. The First Difference whereby Men are distinguished, which is Natural and Essential, and derived from the several Climates of the World, Page 383  
Chap. 43. The Second Distinction, and nicer Difference, which regards the Souls of Men, or the Internal Qualifications and Capacities of their Minds, Page 395  
Chap. 44. The Third Distinction and Difference between Men, which is Accidental, and relates to their Degrees, Conditions, and Offices, Page 402  
Chap. 45. Of Command and Obedience, Page 408  
Chap. 46. Of Marriage, Page 410  
Chap. 47. Of Parents and Children, Page 430  
Chap. 48. Of Lords and their Slaves; Masters and Servants, Page 437  
Chap. 49. Of Public Government, Sovereign Power, and Princes, Page 443  
Chap. 50. Of Magistrates, Page 459  
Chap. 51. Lawgivers and Teachers, Page 461  
Chap. 52. Of the Common-People, Page 467  
Chap. 53. The Three Sorts or Degrees of Life, as it is common to the Generality of Men, distinguished and compared together, Page 476  
Chap. 54. A Life of Company and Business compared with one of Retirement and Solitude, Page 480  
Chap. 55. A Life in Common compared with that of distinct Properties, Page 485  
Chap. 56. A Town and a Country Life compared together, Page 487  
Chap. 57 Of a Military Life, Page 489  
Chap. 58. Of Liberty and Servitude, Page 493  
Chap. 59 Of Nobility, Page 495  
Chap. 60. Of Honour, Page 503  
Chap. 61. Of Learning, Page 508  
Chap. 62. Of Riches and Poverty, Page 512    

OF WISDOM.  
Three BOOKS.  
The Author's Preface.  
Wherein the Title, the Subject Matter, the Design, and the Method of this Treatise are explained.  
BEfore we enter upon the Book itself, it is requisite the Reader should be well informed what he is to understand by that Wisdom, which is the Name, the Subject, and the End of it; and after what manner it is intended to be treated of in the following Sheets.  
Now every one at the very first hearing, understands by Wisdom some particular and uncommon Accomplishment, whereby a Man is distinguished and set above the Vulgar, by a greater Ability, and more masterly Readiness, whether in Good or Evil. For tho' there be not the same Propriety indeed in the Expression, when converted to the worse Sense; yet it is used either way, and the Scripture itself makes mention of some Persons Wise to do Evil. Thus then it does not by any means import a really Good and Commendable Quality of the Mind, but in general any sort of Knowledge or Skill, exquisite in the Degree, be the Object and Employment of it what it will. In this Sense a Tyrant, or a Pirate, or a Robber, may have this Title applied to him; no less than a King, or a Pilot, or a Captain; because all we intent by it is only Prudence, and Conduct, and a perfect Understanding in the business of his Profession. Hence it comes to pass, that Folly is opposed to Wisdom, not only as it denotes Extravagance and Vice, but in general any sort of Indiscretion, or meanness of Attainments. For Wisdom gives us an Idea of something extraordinary and losty in its kind; as the contrary does of somewhat little, and low, and short of the common Pitch. Take Wisdom in a Good or a Bad Sense, Two Things are manifestly included in it; First, A Sufficiency of Mind, which implies its being furnished with all things necessary for its purpose; and, Secondly, The Excellency or more than common measure of that Provision; for to give a Man right to this Denomination, it is no less necessary that he should enjoy these Qualities in a great and eminent degree. Thus you see the largest and most vulgar Notion of Wisdom, according to which Men commonly tell you; that Wise Men are very scarce; that they who are such, have a Right to direct and preside over Others; and, in matters of difficulty, to be consulted like so many Oracles; from whence it is very frequently said, that Men take the Judgement of the Wise, and let better Heads determine for them But now, if we come to define the thing more nicely, and fix a right Notion of it, we shall not find so general an Agreement. For Wisdom means one thing with the generality of the World, another among Philosophers, and somewhat different from both, in the Acceptation and Treatises of Divines. These Three are the several Stages and Classes of Men, under which all the World is comprehended. The Two last have the Advantage, and lead Men by Rules and Precepts, and a strider Consideration of Things: The First looks upon Things but very slightly, and take up with very lose and imperfect Notions of them.  
Now it may very truly be said, that there are Three sorts of Wisdom, Divine, Humane, and Worldly; these relate and bear proportion to God, to Nature in its primitive Purity and Perfection; and to Nature lapsed and depraved. Concerning each of these sorts, the Three Orders of Men just now instanced in deliver themselves, each according to their Condition and Capacity. But more properly and peculiarly thus; The Vulgar are most skilled and conversant in the Worldly, the Philosophers about the Humane, and the Divines about the Divine Wisdom, as their particular Business and Study.  
The Lowest of these is Worldly Wisdom, and this varies according to the great Ends which it proposes to itself, Riches, Pleasure, or Honour. With regard to these it degenerates into Avarice, Luxury, or Ambition; according to St. John's Division of it, 
1 John three 16.  All that is in the World is the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life. From whence St. James hath given it those scandalous Characters of Earthly, 
Jam. iii. 15  Sensual, Devilish. Now This is what both Philosophy and Divinity take upon them to reprove, and endeavour to suppress and reform. They pronounce it to be no better than Folly and Madness, and so accounted in the sight of God. And accordingly you will find no mention made of This in the following Treatise of Wisdom, except it be, to disallow, and to condemn it.  
The Divine, and Highest of these Three sorts is treated of by Philosophy and Religion, after a manner somewhat different from each other. As for what the Common and Vulgar sort of People usually say, or are capable of saying upon this Occasion, I omit it all, as too mean and low to have any place in our Consideration, and rather a Profanation of the Subject, than otherwise. Philosophers represent it as a Matter wholly Speculative, the Knowledge of First Principles, and the Hidden Causes of Things; and lastly, the Highest and Supreme Cause, GOD Himself; which with other abstracted Notions, is the proper Business of Metaphysics in particular. This resides entirely in the Understanding, and is its chief Happiness and Perfection; 'tis the first and most sublime of all the Intellectual Virtues and Excellencies, which are capable of subsisting without Probity, or Action, or any Moral Virtue. Divines on the contrary do not so confine it to Speculation, as not to extend it to Practice too; for they make it the Knowledge of things pertaining to God, such as should enable us to form a Judgement of Matters to regulate our Lives and actions by: And This they tell you is of Two Sorts; The One acquired by Study and Industry, not much unlike what I mentioned to be the Science intended by Philosophers; The Other infused, and coming from above; This is the First of those, (which are sometimes termed the Seven) Gifts of the Spirit, with regard whereunto he is styled The Spirit of wisdom; such as rests only upon the Righteous, and the Pure; and, as the Book of Wisdom truly observes, 
Wisd. 1. iv.  will not enter into a malicious Soul, nor dwell in the Body that is subject unto Sin. This is what the present Treatise is not intended for neither; but is the Subject of my First Truth and those other Works of mine, which, are properly Treatises of Divinity, and Religious Discourses.  
From hence my Reader easily perceives that Humane Wisdom is the real Title, and Subject of the following Book; of which it is fit some short Description should here be premised, which may stand for the Argument, or summary Account of the whole Work. Now, the Common Accounts of this Matter, as they are various and very distant from one another, so are they all narrow and imperfect. The vulgar and most general Notion of it, amounts to no more than Circumspection, Address, and Prudent Behaviour in Business and Conversation. This indeed is like the Vulgar and a Thought worthy of Them; who place all Excellence in Action, and Show, and outward Advantages; and consider no good Quality any farther, than as it is observed and admired. They are entirely devoted to Eyes and Ears; the Internal Motions of the Mind are of little or no Consequence with this sort of Men; and therefore, in their Acceptation of the Matter, Wisdom may subsist without either Piety or Pobity; for All they require from it is a good Outside, and Appearance, and such Easiness of Conduct and Agreeable Management, as shall approve a Man's Discretion and his Parts. Others again mistake it for a Roughness and Singularity of Temper and Behaviour; a particular Stiffness of Fashion, Obstinacy in Opinions, Affected Expressions, and a Way of Living out of the Common Road. And therefore those that value themselves upon these Qualities they call Philosophers, when in truth, to return a little of their own Jargon back again upon them, They are nothing better than conceited Humourists, Fantastical and Capricious Coxcombs. This now, according to the Scheme and Measures pursued in this Book, is, in plain English, Extravagance and Folly. The Nature then of this Wisdom must be learned from some other Hand; that is, from Philosophers and Divines, who have both explained and treated of this Matter in their Moral Tracts. The Former handle it as their proper Business. For they consider Men as they are by Nature, and with regard to practice: But the Latter rise higher, and aspire to infused and supernatural Graces, such as are Speculative and more than Humane; that is, Divine Wisdom, and with Regard to Faith. Hence it comes to pass, that the Former is more extensive and large, as undertaking not only to direct private, but public Duties, Societies as well as single Persons are instructed by it; Whatever can be necessary or advantageous to Families, Communities, Common Wealths and Kingdoms, all falls within its Compass and Jurisdiction. Divinity on the Other Hand is more silent and sparing upon these Accounts and Aims chief, at the Eternal Happiness and Salvation of particular Persons. Besides, The Manner and Air of their Treatises is very different; That of Philosophy more free, and easy, and entertaining; that of Divinity, more plain, and authoritative, and with less Pains to recommend itself to men's Fancies and Palates. Philosophy therefore, which is the Elder of the Two, as Nature must have been antecedent to our Supernatural Assistances, tries to insinuate itself and win Men's Favours, 

* 
Simul & Jucunda & idonea dicere vitae.  
Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo—  Horat.  So as to join Instruction with Delight,  
Profit with Pleasure—  Lord Roscommon. And therefore she dresses and adorns herself with Discourses, Arguments, Turns of Wit and Flights of Fancy; Apt Examples, and moving Similitudes. Ingenious Expressions, useful Apothegms, and all the Graces of Art and Eloquence Divinity comes in a commanding strain, and thinks it a Diminution of her Majesty to descend to such popular and mean Methods. And accordingly there wants a great deal of that Freedom and Gaiety, and (if I may so say) Cheerfulness and good Humour in this, which you are to expect in Philosophy, which yet must be so tempered, as not to degenerate into Triste and Meanness, but still continue to be truly Generous and Brave. It must be allowed, that Philosophers have acquitted themselves admirably well in this particular; not only in the Instructive, but the Moving and Persuasive Part; setting off all their Vntues to the best Advantage, and taking Care, that all the Heroic Excellence of them shall appear in its just Dignity and Proportions. Under which Title of Philosophers I comprehend not only such as the World have thought sit to Dignify with the Fame of Wisdom, as Thales, Solon, and those that were of the same Strain, about the time of Cyrus, Croesin, and Pisistratus; Nor them only of the next in Succession, who taught and professed Wisdom publicly, as Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Aristippus, Zeno, Antisthenes; who are all of them Heads and Masters in their Art; nor their Disciples and Followers who afterwards divided into particular Sects; but I include likewise all those great Men who rendered themselves exemplary for Virtue and Wisdom, as Photion, Aristides, Pericles, Alexander, (whom I 〈◊〉 dignifies with the Character of Philosopher as well as King) Epaminondas, and the rest of the brave Greeks. The Fabricii, Fabrii, Camilli, the Cato's, the Torquati, Reguli, Lelii, and Scipio's among the Romans, most of them Military Men and Commanders of Armies.  
Upon this Account, though I do not refuse, or disregard the Authorities of Divines, yet I have more frequent recourse to those of Humanists and Philosophers in the following Treatise. Had I designed to prepare Men for a Cloister, or a Life of such Perfection, as aspires above the Precepts, and aims at the Perfection of Evangelical Counsels, than indeed my Subject would have obliged me to keep close to those Authors: But since I am training a Man up for the World, and forming him for Business and mixed Conversation, Humane and not Divine Wisdom is the proper Accomplishment for me to recommend, and the Method of answering my Purpose.  
Speaking therefore in general Terms, and according to the Nature of the Thing, We must, in Agreement with Philosophers and Divines, acknowledge, that this Humane Wisdom consists in a Rectitude of the Man, when every part within and without, his Thoughts, and Words and Actions, and every Motion is Graceful, and Noble, and what is for the Honour of his Nature. For this is the Excellence of a Man, considered as a Man; so that, as we call That Piece of Workmanship Perfect, which hath all its Parts entire, and is finished according to the ni●est Rules of Art: He is in like manner said to be a wise Man who understands upon all Occasions how to show himself a Man, by acting in perfect Conformity to the Fundamental and First Rules of Humane Nature; Or, to speak more Particularly, He that is well acquainted with himself in particular, and Mankind in general; that preserves himself from all the Vices, the Errors, the Passions, the Defects incident to him, as well from the inward Causes of his own Mind; as the outward, proceeding from Custom and Common Opinion; that asserts the Native Freedom of his Mind, and hath a large universal Soul; that considers and judges every thing, without enslaving himself to any; that directs all his Aims and Actions so as that they shall agree with Nature, that is, Pure, uncorrupted Reason, the Primitive Law and Light inspired by God, and which shines still in every Breast; The Model by which the wise Man squares his own private Judgement. That in his outward Behaviour complies with the Laws, and Customs, and Ceremonies of the Country where he dwells; that demeans himself toward others with Discretion and Prudence; is always firm and consistent with himself, pleased and contented; without any discomposure of Mind expecting and entertaining any Accident whatsoever, and especially Death, the last and most terrible of them all. All these Strokes or Lines, which go to the making up this Idea, may be reduced to Four, that are the principal and most commanding of all the rest. The Knowledge of a Man's self; Free and Generous Largeness of Mind; The acting in Conformity with Nature which is of an Extent so large as when rightly understood, to be singly and by itself a Rule sufficient) and true Content and evenness of Temper. For these are Qualifications which never meet, except only in the wise Man. He that is defective in any one of them, does not come up to the Character. He that either mistakes his own Condition, or whose Mind is in any sort of Bondage either to his own Passions, or to the Common Vogue; that is partial, and tied up to any particular Notions, cramps up his Thoughts, and cuts himself out from his Native Right of examining, and judging every Thing. He that lives in Contradiction to Nature (that is, Right Reason) upon what Pretence soever he forsake it; whether he be seduced by Passion, or Opinion; He that trips and staggers through Trouble, or Terror, or Discontent; and lives in dread of Death; This Man is not, cannot be Wise. Thus you have in little the Piece, which this following Treatise designs to draw in its full Proportions. Particularly the Second Book, which consists of the General Rules, and a Description of Wisdom in the gross; and this indeed is more properly mine, than either of the others; so peculiarly such, and so full to my purpose, that I once had Thoughts of sending it into the World alone. And what I have here described in Words, the Graver hath done with his Style, in the Frontispiece of this Book, which the Reader will find an Explanation of, immediately after this Preface.  
Now there are two Things, which principally conduce to this Wisdom, and help Men forwards in the Attainment of it. The First of These is a Good Constitution, or Temperament of the Brain, which makes us capable of such Improvements, as our own Care and Industry shall be able to acquire. Of how very great Consequence this is, and how far it falls under the Power of Men to contribute to it, you will find at large in the XIII. Chap. of the First, and the XIV. Chap. of the Third Book.  
The Second is the Study of Philosophy; not all the Branches of it equally, but the Moral Part chief; yet so as that the Natural be not wholly neglected 〈…〉 this is our Candle to enlighten, our 〈◊〉 to arre●t, our Rule to chalk out the Way for us; It explains and gives us true Ideas of the Law of Nature, and by this means furnishes a Man for every part of his Duty as a Man; whether it concern him in Public or in Private; in Company or Alone; as a Member of a Family, or of a State; it sweetens and takes off all the Beast in us, makes us tame, and gentle, and good-natured; fashions and polishes this rude Mass, and forms it into Wisdom. In short, This is the true Learning; all the rest a Man is capable of is mere Vanity in comparison; at least it is in no degree necessary, and in a much less degree useful. For here we learn both to Live and to Die well; and this is the whole we have to take Care of: It teaches a generous and noble Integrity, and Honest Prudence; and well advised Probity; such as raise a Man above little Ends, and low Respects, and put him upon Virtue from the more exalted and Divine Principles, for the sake of its own Excellence, and the Sense that this is what becomes him to do. But alas! This Second Help is almost as generally neglected, or as ill used as the former. For the generality of the World are so entirely taken up with worldly Wisdom, that they give themselves little or no trouble about this which I am now mentioning.  
Thus Nature and Industry must both do their parts, in order to a Man's obtaining Wisdom. He who hath been kindly dealt with by Nature, and brings the Disposition to Wisdom with him, in a convenient Temper of Brain, will find good Actions and Manners flow very naturally from hence, and feel himself advanced a great way, without his own Pains: And those Pains need not be very great, where he is not so much obliged to conquer, as to promote Nature, and moves with speed and inclination towards the Prize he aims at: But if the Temper on the other hand be amiss, All will be difficult and strained: Industry must then correct and supply, oppose and subdue Nature; as Socrates observed of himself, that by infinite Pains, and laborious Study of Philosophy, he had at last got the better of a very ill Disposition.  
In proportion to these two Helps, there are on the other Hand two Hindrances, or powerful Countermines, which carry Men into Folly; the one natural, the other acquired. The Former proceeds from the Distemper of the Brain, whether that be Original or Accidental; by this means it happens sometimes to be too soft, or too moist, or the Parts of which it consists are too heavy and gross; from whence proceed Dulness of Apprehension, Weakness of Judgement, Dark and confused Notions of Things, flat, and low, and little Thoughts, such as we generally sinned among the mean and illiterate sort of People: Or else in the other Extreme, It is too hot and dry, which disposes the Person to be furious and bold, extravagant and intractable in Vice. These are the two Extremes, like Fire and Water, Mercury and Led, each of them improper for Wisdom, which requires a strong and vigorous, but at the same time a sixth and steady Mind; and such as in the midst of all its Gallantry and Firmness, may be manageable, and yielding, and modest. This Second Desect however, of the two, seems the easier to be redressed; the First is hardly curable.  
The acquired Obstruction proceeds either from Want of all Instruction, or from being Ill instructed; which, among other things, consists very much in strong Prepossessions, wherewith the Mind was early tinctured, and so finds itself captivated to them, not able to get above these first Impressions, nor to think freely and impartially. Such Men we commonly say are Headstrong, and touched in the Crown, Whimsical, and wedded to their own Opinions: And, if to that Obstinacy of Humour, there happen to be added any degree of Learning, This blows them up into Presumption and Arrogance, puts Weapons into their Hand to defend their Prejudices, finishes them in Folly, and renders their Disease incapable of all Remedy. Natural Defects, and Acquired Prepossessions, are indeed two very formidable Obstructions; and if Learning do not, as in truth it very seldom does, cure them, it adds to the Disease, and renders them impregnable. Which yet is by no means any Reflection upon Learning, or Dishonour to it, as some may be apt to imagine, but rather a Commendation, and to its Advantage.  
Learning is, without all Controversy, a most excellent Weapon, but not fit to be trusted in every Hand; and he who knows not how to manage it, will find more hurt than good from it. For it makes sick and weak Minds giddy and conceited, perfects and polishes Fools, no less than it does those of good Capacities and Dispositions. A weak and injudicious Man knows not how to use his Weapon; on the contrary it weakens and overpowers Him: He is oppressed with it, like a Stomach overcharged with more Meat than it can digest, or an Arm that is benumbed and born down by a Staff heavier than it can use. The strong and sound Mind, quite contrary, plays with it dexterously, shows a masterly Skill in the use of it, turns it to Advantage perpetually, forms his Judgement, rectifies his Will, pours in this Oil to make the Lamp of Nature burn stronger and brighter; is the wiser and better for that very thing which makes the other but the more exquisite and more insupportable Fool. But, all this while, Learning is not accountable for those ill Consequences, any more than Wine is guilty of all the Excesses committed by it, or a good Medicine ill applied, for the Patient's growing worse upon it. Now against these conceited half-witted Fellows, whom Nature hath disposed to Folly, and their own Acquisitions have perfected in it, I denounce formal War in my Book, as looking upon them to be irreconcilable Enemies to Wisdom; and the sittest Title I can find to distinguish them by, is that of Pedants; for which I have the Authority of several good Writers, who have used the Word in this Signification. It is confessed, that in its Original Language and proper Sense, it is taken in a very good and commendable Meaning; but in latter Times, and other Languages, the great Abuse and Corruption of Learning hath given occasion for the fixing a very ill and contemptible one upon it; a vile, sordid, peevish, stiff way, that makes no other use of Learning, but for Gain and Ostentation, Arrogance and Presumption; In short, all That which makes Learning despicable and derided, is signified by it. And so this, like Tyrant, Sophister, and the like, is one of those Words which hath absolutely lost its first Signification, and is now become a Mark of Reproach and Contempt.  
It is very possible some Persons may be offended at my using this Term, imagining that I design an Affront to those who make Learning their Business and Profession. But they, I hope, will be satisfied with this ingenuous Declaration, that I have not the least Intention of reflecting upon any Science or Condition of Men, particularly not the Gown, which I have the honour to wear, and to be one of those who are called Men of Letters, myself; my meaning is only to charge a certain Quality of Mind, a sort of Souls which I have been describing, of mean and low Capacity, but moderately provided by Nature, and afterwards depraved by Art and Study; Men prepossessed, and obstinate, and sierce in certain Opinions; and these are to be found in all Robes, and all Conditions; as in truth there is a World of Mobb in the Pit and Boxes, as well as in the Upper-Gallery. Vulgum tam chlamydatos quam coronam voco. Let these Objectors but find me another Word as expressive of those Qualities, and I will most readily consent to the Exchange. In the mean while, after this Declaration, I think I may justly say, that whoever shall still be peevish, and have any resentment upon this account, does but injure Me, and accuse Himself. 'Tis true, there are other Terms of Opposition to the Wise Man; but not any, I think, so extensive and significant as This. The Vulgar, the Ignorant, and Others, which I frequently take occasion to make use of; These are opposed more directly, like Low to High, Weak to Strong, Common to Scarce, a Servant to his Master, Profane to Sacred: Thus likewise Fool is set the most directly in opposition to Him; but then This is, as Crooked is opposed to Straight, Vainglorious to Modest, Constraint to Freedom, Sickness to Health. But now Pedant includes all this, and a great deal more, in the Sense which I apply it to: For it gives us an Idea of a Man, not only different from, and contrary to a Wise Man, as the rest of them do, but a Fellow that hath the Impudence to oppose and make Head against him; that comes armed Cap-a-pe, saucily challenges him to Combat, and talks magisterially and dogmatically. And, because in the midst of all this Vanity and sierce Arrogance, he hath some sort of Misgivings, and thinks himself discovered; therefore he bears an inveterate Spite to this Person who checks his Follies; is eternally censuring, condemning, running him down; esteeming and behaving himself as the only Person who has any Right to that Character of Wisdom; tho' in reality he infinitely exceed all others in the exquisiteness and troublesomeness of his Folly.  
Having thus given my Reader a short Account of the Argument and Design of the following Treatise, it may not be unseasonable to premise one Word or two concerning the Order and Method observed in it. He must know then, that it consists of Three Books. The First directs the Knowledge of a Man's Self, and the Condition of Human Nature in general. This is laid as a necessary Preparation to Wisdom; and largely illustrated under Five General Considerations, each of which is subdivided into several Particulars. The Second contains the principal Lines and general Rules of Wisdom. The Third descends to particular Instructions and Circumstances, branched out under the Four Cardinal Virtues, of Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance; and here every Part and Relation of Human Life, hath some provision made for the Duties it engages us in.  
I add too, that I writ and treat my Subject, not after a Pedantic manner, and in set Forms, according to the Methods of the Schools; nor with regular Arguments in Mood and Figure, nor with Pompous Eloquence, nor any other Artifice whatsoever. I am verily persuaded what Tully says is most true, That Wisdom, could she but render herself visible to Human Eyes, would charm our Souls, and ravish our Affections, and make every Creature strangely in Love with her. 
De Offic. Lib. 1.  (Quae si oculis ipsis cerneretur, mirabiles excitaret amores sui.) And therefore she need only discover her native Beauties, and is too noble, too glorious, to use any of those little modish Garbs, to adorn and set her off; but this I do too with a Liberty which all, perhaps, will not be well pleased with. The Propositions and Truths are compact and close, but ofientimes very dry, and served up crude and coursely, like Aphorisms, Overtures, or short Hints of Discourses.  
Some Persons, I am sensible, may be apt to think me too bold with some commonly-received Opinions, and take offence that I pay them no greater Deference. To these Persons, and the Fault they sinned with my free way of expressing my Thoughts; I answer,  
First, That Wisdom, when above the common Standard, hath a Right to this Liberty. It is the Privilege and Jurisdiction of a Wise Man, to call Matters before him, to examine and try them, to censure and condemn vulgar Notions, which indeed, for the most part, are no better than vulgar Errors. And who shall pretend to bar this Privilege? Why should he who hath it, decline the Exercise of it though he knows at the same time that this cannot be done, without incurring the Envy and Displeasure of a great part of the World?  
Nay, Secondly, I cannot but think, the juster ground of Complaint lies on my side, and must therefore reprove Them for this foolish and feminine Niceness, as a thing that is infinitely too squeamish and tender to bear necessary Truth, or attain to sound Wisdom. The boldest Expressions and Truths are most becoming a truly great Soul; and a Man who hath at all studied the World, will not think any thing strange or shocking. For this proceeds from Weakness of Judgement only, which ought to be corrected; and a Man must harden his mind, and accustom himself to consider patiently, even the oddest and most uncouth things, in order to giving them a fair Trial. There is nothing so extravagant, but the Mind of Man you see is capable of thinking it; and consequently nothing so extravagant, but that a Man may, and will do very properly and well, to give it the hearing. All the Care to be taken upon this Occasion is, that we be not wanting to ourselves; That while we endure to examine every thing, tho' never so generally exploded, yet we yield our Assent to nothing, but what is good and decent, tho' never so universally commended or received. For the Wise Man gives instances of his Courage and Greatness of Soul in both these Cases, whereas these nice Persons betray an Effeminate Weakness and Delicacy, and are manifestly defective in them both.  
Thirdly, Whatever I propose here, it is only with an Intention to have it considered: I pretend not to oblige Others to think as I do; I Offer my Thoughts, but I do not Impose them. If They differ in Judgement from Me, it breeds no Quarrel; I should injure myself extremely if it did; because this is one of those detestable Qualities that concur to make up a Pedant. Passion is generally an Argument that Reason is defective; and He that is disposed to any Opinion upon One of these Motives, hath seldom any great Mixture of the Other with it. Wherefore then are these Gentlemen Angry? Is it because I am of another Opinion? Let them give me fair Quarter at least, for I am not in any Degree displeased with Them for differing from me. Is it for saying some things not agreeable to their Taste, and that of the World? Alas, 'Tis for this very Reason, that I mention them. I hope at least, there is nothing said without Reason for it; if they can relish it, and discern the Force of that Reason, 'tis well: If they have better for the other side of the Question, and such as will overthrew mine, I am always ready to hear it; and shall be both pleased and thankful for better Information. But let them not think to run me down with Numbers and Authority, for These have no weight with me, except in Matters of Religion only; and there Authority single is Argument sufficient to induce my Belief of things, which my Reason cannot comprehend. This is its proper Empire, but out of these Territories Reason reigns and hath absolutely Jurisdiction, as St. Augustin himself hath very truly and very ingenuously acknowledged. 'Tis a most unjust Usurpation over our Native Rights and Liberties, the very Madness of Tyranny and Rage, to think to enslave us to All that either the Ancients have delivered, or the Generality of the World entertained: But especially the Latter, since the greater Part of Mankind know neither what they do, nor say. None but Fools will suffer themselves to be led by the Nose at this rate; and for such this Book I confess is not calculated; if it should meet with Popular Acceptance, I should suspect it did not answer its Character. The Ancient Authors ought indeed to be heard, and considered and duly respected; but to be captivated by them, is an Excess of Veneration they must not pretend to. For though a Man should hear all, and pay a Deference to some, yet he must assent and yield up his Mind to none, but Reason only. And indeed put the Case we might, and would be governed by Authorities; yet I would be glad to know how this is possible to be done; or how we shall find such an Agreement among them, as shall enable us to say, Authority is on our side. Aristotle, for Instance, pretended to be the greatest Man that had then appeared in the World; he took upon him to arraign and condemn all that had gone before him; and yet he said and wrote more absurd things, than all of Them put together had ever thought of. Nay, he is inconsistent with himself, and many times does not know what he would be at; of which his wild Notions, concerning The Soul of Man, The Eternity of the World, The Generation of Winds and Waters, etc. are undeniable Testimonies. And in truth a Man who considers the Matter will find, that to have all People of the same Opinion would be infinitely more prodigious and amazing, than to find them otherwise. For Diversity of Opinions is as comely and beautiful in the Minds of Men, as Variety is in the Works of Nature. That Wise as well Inspired Apostle St. Paul allows a great Liberty, in these Two Rules; Let every Man be fully persuaded in his own Mind; 
Rom. 14. iii, v.  and Let no Man condemn or despise others of a different Judgement and Behaviour. And it is observable, that these Directions are given in a Matter much nicer and of greater consequence, than what we now treat of. For they do not concern Actions merely Humane, and External, and civil Compliances, in which I have declared, that my Wise Man should not take upon him to be singular, nor think it any Diminution of his Character, to submit and conform to Custom and Prescription: But St. Paul's Rules are of a Religious Consideration; and relate to such Distinctions of Meats and Days, as Men thought themselves bound upon a Principle of Conscience to make; Whereas all the Hardiness and Freedom I contend for, is only that which enlarges a Man's Thoughts and private Opinions from Captivity and Restraint; and such as no other Person is or can be concerned in, but what a Man is entirely and solely accountable to himself for.  
Fourthly, However, to give all reasonable Satisfaction even in this Point too; In regard some things might seem too crude and hard for the weaker sort of People, (those of strong and sound Constitutions I am sensible will relish and digest them all very well,) in Tenderness and Condescension to such queasy Stomaches, I have taken Care, in this Second Edition, to explain, illustrate, and soften any thing that might offend their seebler Judgements. And accordingly do now present you with a Book diligently revised, and considerably enlarged above what it was before.  
Lastly, I beg leave of the Reader, who undertakes to pass a Judgement upon this Work, that he will permit me to fore-warn him of Seven dangerous Mistakes, which other Persons by falling into already, have entertained a less favourable Opinion of the Former Edition, than I have the Vanity to think it deserved.  
The First is, That he would make a Difference between Matter of Fact and Right; and not from what is related as Done, conclude That aught to be Done.  
Secondly, To make a great Difference between Acting and Judging; and not conclude from any Liberty of Opinion maintained by me, that I pretend to vindicate the same Liberty in Behaviorr.  
Thirdly, That he would not look upon all That as Resolved and Determined, and Declared in Favour of, which is only offered to Consideration, Argued and Disputed Problematically, and in the old Academic Way.  
Fourthly, That what I relate from, or concerning other People, be not imputed to Me, or pass for my own Sense and Judgement of the Thing.  
Fifthly, That what is spoken of the Mind and its internal Qualifications, be not appropriated to any Sort or Profession of Men, or extended to outward and Particular Circumstances and Conditions.  
Sixthly, That what is spoken of Humane Opinion, be not applied to Religion and Matters of Faith.  
And Seventhly, That what belongs to Virtue, and Actions merely Natural and Moral, be not interpreted of Grace and Supernatural Operations.  
Let my Reader but lay aside all Prejudice and Passion, and take these Cautions along with him, and I am well assured, his own Scruples may be resolved by them, the Objections raised by himself or others against this Treatise abundantly answered, and the Design I had in it, cleared from all Blame or Suspicion. But if, after all, he be still dissatisfied, let him come forth into fair Combat, and attack me openly. For to traduce, and snarl and mangle an Author's Reputation in a Corner, is I confess an easy, but withal a Base, and Pedantic Practice, unworthy Men of Sense or Honour. And, since this Book makes particular Pretences to Ingenuity, and fair Dealing, I promise any generous Adversary, either to do him the Honour of freely Acknowledging my Mistakes, and submitting to his better Reasons; or else to examine his Objections, and endeavour to make both Him and the World, sensible of their Impertinence and Folly.   

An Explanation of the Figure in the Frontispiece of this Book.  
AT the upper end of the Page, and over the Title of the Book, you have Wisdom represented by a beautiful Woman; She is naked; yet so that there is no offence given to the Chastest Eyes, (intimating, that she needs not any Additional Beauties, or the Assistance of Art to recommend her, but is natural, plain, and simple; yet so as in the midst of Nature and Simplicity to have always a strict regard to Modesty.) Her Countenance is Healthful and Masculine, Smiling and Cheerful, Strong and Authoritative. Her Body Straight, with her Feet fixed close together, upon a Cube, that denotes Justice, and Firmness. Her Arms , as if she were embracing herself; intimating, that she is happy in, and satisfied with herself. Upon her Head she wears a Crown of Laurel and Olive, which imports Victory and Peace. The void Space round about her, signifies Liberty: She looks in a Glass, held by a Hand coming out of a Cloud, at some distance from her, which presents her with the Reflection of her own Face; for Wisdom is employed in the Knowledge and Contemplation of herself. Upon her Right side are these Words, I know not; not thereby to give Countenance to perpetual Doubt and Scepticism; but arguing, that she is mature and cautious in Deliberating, slow in Determining; not positive or peremptory, but reserving an Ear open for fresh Reasons, and not ashamed to confess, that the best Human Knowledge is still dark and imperfect. On the Left side are those other Words, Peace, and a little; 
See Book II. Chap. vi. Fig. 6.  which are the Author's own Device, represented by a Root impaled, wound about with an Olive-Branch, and encircled with two Branches of Laurel in an Oval Form; implying, that a Competency is sufficient; and that Men have it in their own Power to be easy and contented.  
Below, on each side the Title, are Four little, deformed, wretched, wrinkled Old Women, bound in Chains; the End of which is fastened to the Pedestal of Wisdom; who despises, condemns, and tramples them under her Feet. The Two on the Right side of the Title are Passion and Opinion; Passion hath a meager and discomposed Countenance, intimating Disorder and Fury. Opinion hath wild staring Eyes, an unsettled and sturdy Face: She is supported by several Persons, denoting the Extravagance and general Infection of vulgar Errors, and how fond of, and how stiff the common People are in them. The other Two on the Left side of the Inscription are Superstition, with an amazed Look, her Hands clasped together like a Slave trembling for Fear; showing the Terrors and Astonishments of People possessed with this Frenzy of the Mind: And Lastly, there is Learning, which is a counterfeit, artificial, acquired, and Pedantic Virtue; a Slave to Laws, and Customs, and Forms; with a swelled Face, a haughty arrogant Look, bold staring Eyes; and she reads in a Book, wherein is written, Yea, Nay; importing the Vanity and Confidence of Learned Men, their Eternal Disputes, and the wide Disagreement of their Notions; and yet the Presumption and Positiveness they betray in the midst of all this Difference and Uncertainty. And Lastly, The Chains which terminate in the Footstool of Wisdom, show that Captivity of the Mind, which all these Qualities bring Men under, which they who study Wisdom labour to get above; and they who attain to it, break those Fetters, and are wholly free from that miserable Bondage.   

A Brief Account OF THE AUTHOR.  
From the French.  
PETER CHARRON was born at Paris, in the Year 1541. and Baptised in St. Hilary's Church in the Clos Brunean. His Father was one Theobald Charron, a Bookseller; and his Mother's Name was Nicole de la Bar. By Her, Theobald had One and Twenty Children; and Four more by a former Wife: So that our Author had no less than Four and Twenty Brothers and Sisters; and yet, which is very remarkable, among all this numerous Family, there is not any Male-Issue now remaining. The Condition of his Parents was not very plentiful; and their Expense, 'tis plain, was great; but however, in regard they saw something in their Son Peter, which was very forward and promising, and argued a more than common Capacity, they took the Hint from Nature's Kindness, and put him out to a very good School. After he had made sufficient progress in Greek and Latin, he took care to qualify himself with other Sciences, and Parts of Human Learning, and studied Logic, Metaphysics, Moral and Natural Philosophy. From thence he proceeded to the Civil and Canon Law in the Universities of Orleans and Bourges, where he commenced Doctor in that Faculty. At his return to Paris, he betook himself to the Profession of the Law, and was admitted Advocate in the Court of Parliament; Where Business often called him to the Bar, which he always declared to be the best and most imporving School in the World: And accordingly, he took care to lose none of the Public Hear; From whence his Mind took so strong a Tincture, that a Man may plainly discern the Effects of it in his Discourses, by the proper Application of Maxims and Terms of Law. This Course he continued some Five or Six Years; but foreseeing, that Preferment this way, if ever attained at all, was like to come hard and slow, (he neither having Relations among the Solicitors and Proctors of the Court, nor particular Interest, nor Spirit little enough to cringe, and flatter, and wriggle himself into Business) he gave over that Employment, and applied himself close to the study of Divinity. To this purpose he read the Fathers, and eminent Doctors of the Church; and having a Tongue well hung, and a Style free and easy, but yet refined and lofty too, above the rate of common Preachers; he made use of this Talon, by the Permission of the Parochial Clergy, and that with so good Success, that he quickly came into Reputation and Esteem with the Greatest and most Learned Men of his Time; Insomuch that the Bishops and greatest Prelates about the Town, seemed to be in some sort of Strife, which of them should get him into his Diocese. Particularly my Lord Arnaud de Pontac, Bishop of Bazas, a Prelate of excellent Learning, having heard him preach at St. Paul's Church, in the Year 1571. was so in love with him, that he took him away from the place of his Birth, and carried him to Xaintes and Bourdeaux, and into his Bishopric of Bazas, and several other places in Gascony, and Languedoc, where his admirable Eloquence acquired so just Renown, that he had Proffers made by several Bishops, of being the Theological Canon (or Divinity-Lecturer) in their Churches; and of several other Dignities and Benefices, besides several noble Presents made him. In short, he was Theologal at Bazas, Ars, Lethoure, Again, Chaors, and Condom successively; Canon and Schoolmaster in the Church of Bourdeaux, and Chanter in the Church of Condom. Queen Margarel, Duchess of Valois, was pleased to entertain him for her Preacher in Ordinary; and the than King, tho' at that time of the Reformed Religion, was extremely pleased with his Sermons, and frequently did him the Honour to hear them. He was also a Retainer to the late Cardinal d' Armagnac, Legat to his Holiness at Avignon, who had a great value for him. He did great good by his persuasive way of Preaching, and by the Excellencies both of his Life and Doctrine, for Two and Thirty Years together, converted and established many. He never took any Degree or Title in Divinity, but satisfied himself with deserving and being capable of the Highest; and had therefore no other Title or Character but That of Priest only. He never saw Paris in Seventeen or Eighteen Years, and then resolved to come and end his days there; but being a great lover of Retirement, he had obliged himself by Vow to become a Carthusian; and was absolved of it about the end of the Year 1588. He went from Bourdeaux coming by Xaintes and Angers, where he made several learned Sermons, and arrived at Paris, at the time the States were convened at Blois. Then he presented himself to the Prior of the Carthusians, one John Michael, a Person of great Piety, who since died Prior-General of the great Carthusian Monastery in Dauphiné. To Him he communicated his Intention; but it was not accepted, by reason of his Age, which was not less than Seven or Eight and Forty. And all the most pressing Entreaties he could use were ineffectual; for the Excuse was still this, That That Order required all the Vigour of Youth to support its Austerities. Hereupon he addressed himself to the Provincial of the Celestines in Paris; but there too with the same Success, and upon the same Reasons alleged for repulsing him. Thus after having done his utmost to fulfil his Vow, and himself not being in any degree accessary to its not taking effect, he was assured by Faber Dean of the Sorbon, Tyrius a Scotch Jesuit, and Fevardent a Franciscan, all very learned and able Divines, that there lay no manner of Obligation upon him from that Vow: But that he might with a very safe and good Conscience, continue in the World as a Secular, and was at large, and at his own Disposal, without any need of entering into any other Religious Order. Hereupon, in the Year 1589. he returned back by Angers, where he preached the whole Lent, to the great Admiration and Benefit of the People. From thence he went back again to Bourdeaux, where he contracted a very intimate Acquaintance and Friendship with Monsieur Michael de Montagne, Knight of the Order of the King, and Author of the Book so well known by the Title of Montagne's Essays. For him Monsieur Charron had a very great Esteem, and did from him receive all possible Testimonies of a reciprocal Affection: For, (among other things) Monsieur Montagne ordered by his last Will, that in regard he left no Issue-Male of his own, Monsieur Charron should after his decease, be entitled to bear the Coat of Arms, plain, and as they belonged to his Noble Family. The Troublesome Times detaining Monsieur Charron at Bourdeaux, from the Year 1589. to that of 1593. he composed his Book called Les Trois Veritez, The Three Truths, and published it in 1594. but without his Name to it. This was received with great Applause of Learned Men, and they printed it after the Bourdeaux Copy two or three times at Paris, and afterwards at Brussels in Flanders, under the Sham-Name of Benedict Valiant, Advocate of the Holy Faith; because the Third Part of that Book contains a Defence of the Faith, in answer to a little Tract concerning the Church, written formerly by the Sieur Plessis de Mornay. The Publication of this Book brought him into the Acquaintance of Monsieur Antony d' Ebrard de S. Sulpice, Bishop and Count of Caors, who upon perusing and liking the Book, sent for Monsieur Charron, tho' he had never seen him before, made him his Vicar-General, and Canon-Theologal in his Church, which he accepted; and there he put out the Second Edition, with his own Name to it in 1595. enlarging it also with a Reply to an Answer, printed at Rochel, and written against what he called his Third Truth.  
While he was at Caors, the King was pleased to summon him to the General Assembly of all the Clergy of France, held the same Year 1595. Hither he came in the Quality of a Deputy, and was chosen first Secretary to the Assembly. As he was in this Attendance, an Invitation was sent him to preach at St. Eustache's Church, the most populous Parish in the whole City of Paris, which he did upon All-Saints-Day 1595, and two Days after. As also the Six Sundays in Lent 1596. In 1599 he returned to Caors, and in that Year, and 1600. he composed Eight Discourses upon the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper; as many others upon the Knowledge and Providence of God, the Redemption of the World, the Communion of Saints: And likewise his Books of Wisdom. While he was thus employing himself, and enjoying that Retirement at Caors, my Lord John Chemin Bishop of Condom presented him with the Chantership in his Church, to draw him over into that Diocese: But having at the same time an Offer from M. Miron, Bishop of Angiers, and being courted by Him, to reside at Anjou, this was most agreeable to his Inclination. The making a determinate Resolution was a Work of Time; for his Affection and Convenience drawing several Ways, kept the Balance long in suspense. Anjou he looked upon as the sweetest Dwelling, the most delightful Retreat that France could give him; but that Province being then embroiled in Civil Wars, (for Bretany was not then reduced, and so like to make a very troublesome Neighbour) Condom carried the Point. It happened too, that the Theologal Chair at Condom was just then void, and this being tendered him by the same Bishop, he accepted that, and resolved to set up his Staff there. To this purpose he bought a House, which he built new, and furnished to his own Fancy and Convenience; resolving to give himself all the Ease and Diversion he could, and make the best of his growing Years, the Infirmities whereof would be softened at least by good Humour, and a pretty Dwelling. After he was settled at Condom, he printed those Christian Discourses mentioned just now, which were Sixteen in all; and also his Books of Wisdom at Bourdeaux, in the Year 1601. which gave him a great Reputation, and made his Character generally known: So that Monsieur Charron began from that time to be reckoned among the Glories and topping Wits of France. Particularly Messieur Claude Dormy, Bishop of Bologne by the Sea, and Prior of St. Martin's in the Fields at Paris, wrote him several Letters upon that occasion; expressing the great Esteem he had for Him and his Writings, and as a Testimony of his Value and Opinion of him, offered him the Theologal's Place in his Church. These Letters made Monsieur Charron desirous to see Paris once more, that so he might contract a Personal Acquaintance with, and express his Acknowledgements for the Favours of this great Prelate; and at the same time, in hope to get an Opportunity of reprinting his Books and Discourses, with the Addition of some new Tracts. For indeed the Impression at Bourdeaux he thought wanted correcting; and upon a Review was not at all to his Satisfaction.  
In pursuance of this Design, he arrived at Paris the Third of October, 1603. and in a convenient time afterwards he went to pay his Respects to the Bishop of Bologne, who received him with great Civility and Kindness, and repeated his Offer of that Preferment, merely to have him near himself, and more within the Eye of the Court. Monsieur Charron returned him many Thanks for the Honour he had done him, and the good Intentions he was pleased to entertain for his Advancement. And with his usual Freedom, told an Advocate in the Parliament, who was a particular Friend of his, that he could be well pleased to accept that Preferment for some Years, but that the Moisture and Coldness of the Air, and its Nearness to the Sea, did not only make it a Melancholy and Unpleasant Place, but very Unwholesome, and Rheumatic, and Foggy too. That the Sun was his visible God, as God was his invisible Sun; and therefore, since he had no Hope of seating himself at Bologne with Safety to his Health, he thought it much better not to venture thither at all.  
During his Stay at Paris, he lodged at one Bertand's a Bookseller, that he might be near the Press, and correct the new Edition of his Books of Wisdom, of which he lived to see but Three or Four Sheets wrought off. For on Sunday the Sixteenth of Novembber, 1603. going out of his Lodging, about one of the Clock, at the Corner of St. John Beanvais Street, he called to his Servants and complained he found himself Ill: And immediately, while they ran to hold him up he sell upon his Knees, and with his Hands and Eyes lifted up to Heaven, he expired upon the Spot, without the least Agony or Appearance of Pain. His Disease was an Apoplex, and the Quantity of extravasated Blood was so great, that no Humane Help could have preserved him. The Body was kept Two Days, but the Physicians being well satisfied that he was actually dead, and the Blood too which settled about his Throat, beginning to mortify, and grow offensive, they buried him with great Decency, and a very Honourable Attendance, in St. Hilary's Church, the Eighteenth of the same Month; where his Father, Mother, most of his Brothers and Sisters, and a great many other Relations were Interred. The Day of his Funeral he had his Face exposed to view, and his Body dressed in the Priest's Habit, as if he had been going to Officiate at Mass. And this was done by a particular Direction of his own; for he had frequently left those Orders in Charge, provided his Death happened to be such, as wrought no mighty Change or Deformity in his Person.  
As to his Person, He was of a moderate Stature, inclining to Fat; of a smiling Countenance and cheerful Humour; a large open Forehead; straight Nose, pretty large downwards; light blue Eyes; his Complexion Fresh and Ruddy; his Hair and Beard very White, though he had not yet got through his Climacterick, being about Sixty Two Years and a Half when he died. The Air of his Face was always Gay, without the least Alloy of Melancholy; his Mien Graceful; his Voice Strong and Distinct; his Expression Masculine and Bold: His Health Firm and Constant; he had no Complaints, either from Age or Indispositions, till about Three Weaks before his Death. Then indeed he now and then, while he was in Motion, felt a Pain in his Breast, and found himself oppressed with Shortness of Breath. But this presently went off again after a little Rest, and fetching his Breath deep. However he acquainted his Physician the eminent Sieur Marscot with his Case, who advised him by all means to open a Vein; assuring him, that all his Illness proceeded from fullness of Blood, and, if some Course were not taken speedily to prevent it, a Suffocation might ensue. And accordingly it happened; for in all probability, the neglecting this Advice of bleeding quickly, was the very thing that cost Monsieur Charrou his Life.  
His Books of Wisdom and Christian Discourses were printed off after his Death, by the Particular Care of an Intimate Friend, whom he had charged with the Inspection of them in hi● Life-time: And abundant Satisfaction was given to the World, that the Author himself had in this Impression added, and corrected several Passages. Some particularly, which not Others only, but Himself also thought necessary to be changed from that first Impression at Bourdeaux, in 1601, By these Alterations he hath explained his Meaning, strengthened his Arguments, softened many Expressions without any Material Alteration of the Sense. All which was done Principally in Compliance with the World; to obviate the Malice of Some, and condescend to the Infirmities of Others. The whole had been perused and approved by some very good Friends, and Persons of sound Judgement; and till They had declared themselves satisfied and pleased, he could not prevail with himself to be so. But above all, he submitted his Writings to the Church; and hoped there was nothing there, that might call for a just Censure, or Minister ground of Offence, either to Religion in general, or to that Communion, of which he was a Member in particular.  
As to his peculiar Manner of handling the Subjects he undertook to treat of, whether in Books or Sermons, he was used to say, that there are Three Ways of expressing and communicating a Man's Thoughts, which bear Proportion, and seem to be adapted to the Three Several Faculties of the Mind; the Imagination, the Memory, and Understanding. One of these proceeds upon Rules of Art, runs upon Etymologies and Distinctions of Words and Things, Definitions, Divisions, Subdivisions, Causes, Effects, Accidents, and the like. A Second collects together what other People have thought or said upon the Occasion, and values itself upon the nicety of quoting Books, and Chapters, and Pages: The Third is free and generous, including and doing in a manner all that both the former pretend to, but without any Ostentation of doing so, or enslaving itself to Niceties of Method, and Rules of Art. The First of These he used to say was sit for Schools, and to instruct young Beginners: The Second too much in Vogue with Preachers and Orators, who in Effect only tack together other People's Notions, and those too very often after an affected and impertinent Manner; for having nothing to say for themselves, they make other People speak for them, though never so little to the Purpose. In respect of this Way he declared himself of a Judgement directly opposite to the generality of the World; That to stuff a Discourse with Quotations was an Argument rather of Weakness and Ignorance, than of Wisdom. That Men took this Course in all likelihood to set themselves and their great Reading off to the World, which after all amounts to no more than a good Memory: And This, if not attended with Judgement, is no such mighty Commendation. That These things are oftentimes brought in at random, and all Adventures; picked up from Common-place Books, and Indices, where they find Stuff ready made up to their Hands, and so they vend it without more to do. Allegations indeed have their Uses and proper Seasons; they are absolutely necessary in controverted Points, where the Cause is to be decided by Authorities; But than they ought to be used with Moderation, and in Measure; and good Care taken, that they be home to the purpose; that Prudence be used in the Choice of them; for generally the Fewer and the Weightier, to be sure the Better they are. For it was his Opinion, that of all the Three Manners of Expressing our Thoughts, This was the least valuable.  
As for the Third, That indeed was infinitely the best, and the Persons who make it their Method, are by much the greatest and most significant Men. Antiquity and Authority were thus far of his side; The Ancient Homilists being so many Examples of it, in whose Writings and Orations you very seldom, or never, find a Quotation; and in truth the old Authors, of all Sorts and Professions, seem to make sound Reason, and good Sense their Business. This being the proper, the generous Food for entertaining Men desirous of Knowledge, and of distinguishing Minds; This relishes and shows more of Judgement, and Understanding, which are Nobler, and more Exalted Parts of the Mind, than Memory. Lastly, This is infinitely the most Free and Noble in itself, and more Delightful and Improving to Hearers, Readers, and the Person who makes Use of it too, than any other Method whatsoever: For by this, Men are rather made Wise than Learned; and more accustomed to examine and make a Judgement of things. Consequently the Will is directed, and the Conscience informed this way, whereas the rest are good for nothing, but to stuff his Memory, and Imagination, with other People's Notions, or little trifling Niceties. This Account I thought not improper to trouble the Reader with, because from hence he will guests, what he is to expect in this Treatise, and see withal what kind of Taste our Author had in Matters of this Nature.  
As for what relates to his Temper, Manners, Conversation, and Actions, whether in Public or Private, I shall need to say only thus much; That he made it his Constant Business, to render them conformable to those Rules and Maxims contained at large in this Second Book of the following Treatise; and was very successful, and very accurate in the Undertaking: What Persuasion and Church he was of, his Three Verities abundantly declare; as do likewise his Christian Discourses, which were printed since his Death, and make a convenient Volume by themselves. How strict and conscientious he was, may appear from this single Instance; That, though he were possessed of several Theologal Canonries' one after another, yet he would never be prevailed with to resign any of them, in Favour of any Person; nor to name his Successor; for fear of giving Occasion to the Censure, of having upon private Respects put in an unqualifyed Man, and One who was not worthy to fill such a Post. But he constantly gave them up freely and clearly, into the Hands of those Bishops who had collated him.  
The last thing I shall mention upon this Occasion is his Last Will; which was made and written all with his own Hand in January 1602. and after his Decease, registered in the Office at Condom. In This he first returns most humble Thanks to God, for all the Mercies and Benefits which by His Bounty he had enjoyed in his Life-time; begs him most earnestly for his infinite and incomprehensible Mercies Sake, in the Name of his Wellbeloved Son, and our Blessed Saviour Jesus Christ; and for His Merits shed and multiplied upon all his Members the Elect Saints, to grant him Favour, and full Pardon for all his Offences; to receive him for his own Child; to assist and conduct him with his Holy Spirit, during his Continuance in this World, that he might ever remain in a sound Mind, and the true Love and Service of Him his God; and that at the Hour of Death, he would receive his Soul to himself, admit him into the Society and sweet Repose of his Wellbeloved ones, and inspire all his Holy and Elect Saints with a Pious and Charitable Disposition, to pray, and make intercession for him.  
Then proceeding to the Legacies, he bequeathes among other things; To the Church of Condom, provided his Corpse be Interred there, Two Hundred Livres (Tournois) upon Condition that every Year upon the Day of his Death, High Mass shall be once said in his Behalf, and Absolution once pronounced over his Grave. He gives moreover to the Maintenance of poor Scholars, and young Girls, Two Thousand Four Hundred Crowns, the yearly Income hereof to be distributed for ever, the one Moiety to Three or Four Scholars; the other to Three, Four, or Five young Maidens, at the Discretion of his Executors, of which he constituted Five: The Master of St. Andrew's School, and Rector of the Jesuits at Bourdeaux for the time being; his Heir, and Two of his Friends; the Three Last to name some other Persons to succeed in this Trust after their Decease, with This Qualification, that they nominate such only, as are well known and reputed for their Abilities, Honesty, and Charity. And that any Three of these in the Absence of the rest, might manage, and dispose things as they should see convenient: Likewise he gives, and bequeathes to Mrs. Leonora Montagne, Wife to the Sieur de Camin, King's Counsel in the Parliament at Bourdeaux, half Sister to the late Sieur de Montagne, the Sum of Five Hundred Crowns. And her Husband, Monsieur Camin, he constitutes his sole Heir; He paying the Charges, and Legacies contained in his Will, amounting in the whole to about Fifteen Thousand Livres Tournois, in the Gross Summ.  
What hath been thus lightly touched upon, is a sufficient Evidence how Religious and Conscientious a Person Monsieur Charron was; that he feared God, led a pious and good Life, was Charitably disposed; a Person of Wisdom and Conduct, Serious and Considerate; a great Philosopher, an eloquent Orator, a famous and powerful Preacher; richly furnished and adorned with the most excellent Virtues and Graces both Moral and Divine: Such as made him very remarkable and singular; and deservedly gave him the Character of a Good Man and a good Christian; such as preserve a great Honour and Esteem for his Memory among Persons of Worth and Virtue, and will continue to do so, as long as the World shall last.   

OF WISDOM, THE FIRST BOOK; Which consists of the Knowledge of a Man's own self; and the Condition of Humane Nature in general.  
An Exhortation to the Study and Knowledge of ones self.  
The Introduction to this whole First Book.  
THERE is not in the World any Advice more excellent and divine in its own Nature, more useful and beneficial to us, nor any at the same time less attended to, and worse practised than that of studying and attaining to the Knowledge of ourselves. This is in Truth the Foundation, upon which all Wisdom is built, the direct and high Road to all Happiness. And sure no Folly can be compared to that which draws off men's Attention, and employs their Diligence and Pains in the Search of other Objects, and fixes them every where, any where, rather than upon themselves: For when all is done, the true Learning is at home, and the proper Science and Subject for Man's Contemplation, is Man himself.  
Were this Advice thus generally neglected for want of being seasonably or sufficiently given, the Omission were more excusable: 
The Dictates of Universal Reason.  But the Matter is quite otherwise: For God, Nature, Wise Men, the World, All conspire to inculcate it; and both by the Instructions they give, and the Examples they set, preach this Doctrine, and loudly call upon Man to make Himself the Employment of his own Thoughts, and the Object of his own Studies. God we know, is perpetually taken up with the Contemplation of himself; and the unspeakable Happiness, as well as constant Business of that vast Eternity, is the viewing, considering and knowing his own infinite Perfections.  
The World is so contrived, as to have all its Eyes turned inward; and the several Parts of this Universe are ever beholding the Beauties and Conveniences of themselves, or of one another: For Heaven, and Earth, and Air, and Sea may seem so many independent Bodies, yet are they in reality but so many distinct Parts of one Body; and the mutual Regards of these to each other, are but the several Prospects which one vast united Whole takes of itself. So perpetually are the Eyes of the World open upon itself, so necessarily contracted and determined to itself alone. But why should we go abroad for Arguments, who have such convincing ones at home? For Man hath this Engagement to study and know Himself, which no other Part of the World hath, that it is Natural to him to think. This is the peculiar Character, the very Essence of Man, and nothing is so near, nothing presents itself so immediately to his Thought, as Himself. So that Nature here hath plainly taught our Duty, and shown that this is the Work she cuts out for every Man. Nothing can be so easy, as for a Man to meditate, and entertain his Thoughts. It is incomparably the most frequent, most common, most natural Practice. Thought is the Food, the Support, the Life of the Mind; it must needs be so indeed, since the very 
* Cujus vivere est cogitare.  Essence of Mind is Cogitation. And where, I pray, shall this Mind begin? where will you find a more proper Subject for its Exercise and Entertainment than its own self? Can there be any more natural, any that hath a greater Right to this Contemplation? any that is nearer related, or that more highly concerns it to be well acquainted with? Certainly to ramble abroad and fix upon Foreign Matters, and at the same time quite overlook and forget one's self, is the greatest Injustice, and the most unnatural Neglect that can be. No doubt, every Man's true Business, and the Thing he is properly called to, is the thinking of Himself, and being well employed to see how Matters go at home. These are our Trade and our Concern; the rest but Entertainment and Diversion. And thus we see it is in every other Creature. Each of these takes care of itself, makes the Study of its self the first and principal Business, hath Bounds set to its Desires, and employs not itself, nor hath any Aim beyond such a certain Compass: And yet thou, O vain Man, who wilt be grasping at the Universe, who pretendest to Knowledge unlimited, and takest upon thee to control and to judge every thing, art perfectly ignorant of thy own self, and not at any Pains to be otherwise. Thus whilst thou labourest to render thyself the most accomplished Part of the Creation; whilst thou sittest like a Censor upon Nature, and determinest magisterially, and with an Air of Wisdom; Thou, in reality, art the greatest Ignorant; Thou, all the while, the only Fool in the whole World: Thou art the emptiest and most wanting, the most impotent and most wretched; and yet in despite of all these Mortifications, the proudest and most conceited, the most arrogant and disdainful Creature upon Earth. Look at home then for shame; turn thine Eyes inward, and employ thy Senses there. Call back thy wand'ring Mind, thy Understanding and thy Will, which rove and spend their Strength unprofitably abroad, and fix them in the Consideration of themselves. Thou art Busy, and yet Negligent; Beggarly, and yet profuse: For thou losest and wastest thyself in things without, and forgettest quite what is thy own within. Thus thou art a Thief and a Traitor to thyself: Restore then what thou hast thus falsely stolen away; and instead of gazing round, and looking always before thee, collect thyself, and confine thy Thoughts at home: Look diligently within thee; search curiously there, and know thyself perfectly. Thus our wise Masters have advised.  

* 
Nosce teipsum!— nec te quaesiveris extrà.  
Respue quod non es.—  Pers. Sat. 1. Tecum habita, & noris quam sit tibi curta supellex. Pers. Sat. 4.  
Dryden.  
Dryden.  Weigh no Merit by the common Scale.  
The Conscience is the Test of every Mind;  
Seek not thyself without thyself to find.  
Please not thyself the flattering Crowd to hear;  
'Tis fulsome Stuff to feed thy itching Ear.  
Reject the nauseous Praises of the Times:—  
Survey thy Soul; 
Dryden. Eng. Pers.  not what thou dost appear,  
But what thou art, and find the Beggar there.  

* 
— Tu te consul.  
Teipsum concute, nunquid vitiorum,  
Inseverit olim natura, aut etiam consuerudo mala.   Sift well thy Soul, its Product nicely view,  
And learn from whence thy Tares and Darnel grew;  
Which are to Nature, which to Custom due.  
If the thin Crop sprung from a Soil too lean,  
Or long neglected Weeds have choked the generous Grain.  
The Knowledge of a Man's self is a Step to the Knowledge of God: The best and shortest Method we can possibly take of raising our Minds up to Heaven. 
A State leading to Divine Wisdom.  It must needs be so, because there is no other thing capable of being known by us, which carries such lively Strokes, such express Images and Characters, such clear and convincing Testimonies of God, as Man does: And also because whatever there is of this kind, may be more perfectly known by us: For a Man must be of necessity more sensible of those Faculties and Motions, which are within himself, and better qualified to give an Account of them, than he can be of those which belong to any other Creature; because these are at some distance from him, and he cannot possibly be alike conscious of them. 
† Mirabilis facta est scientia tua. i e. tui ex me.  Thou hast fashioned and closed me in, 
Psal 1 39.5.6.  and laid thy hand upon me: therefore is thy Knowledge become wonderful. That is, The Knowledge of thea, which results from the Contemplation of myself, and the Resemblance of the Humane to the Divine Nature (as some interpret that Passage.) From hence perhaps it was, that Apollo (who among the Heathens was esteemed) the God of Knowledge and of Light, had this Inscription KNOW THYSELF, engraven in Characters of Gold upon the Front of his Temple, as a necessary Greeting, and Advertisement from the God, to all that should approach him; intimating that this was the first Motion from Ignorance and Darkness; the most necessary Qualification for gaining Access to such a Deity: That upon these Terms only they could be admitted to his Temple, and fit for his Worship; and that all who were not acquainted with themselves, must be excluded from that Place and Privilege. 
Cant. 1.8.  
* 〈…〉 O pulcherrima, egredete. & abi post hoedos tuos.  If thou know not, who thou art, O thou fairest among Women, go thy way forth and follow thy Kids.  
Would a Man make it his Business (as every Man sure aught to do) to lead the most regular, 
It disposes Men to be wise.  composed, and pleasant Life that can be, we need go no further to fetch Instructions for it, than our own selves. Had we but the Diligence and Application, as we have the Capacity and the Opportunity to learn, every Man would be able to teach himself more and better than all the Books in the World, and all his poring there can ever teach him.  
He that shall remember, and critically observe the extravagant Sallies of his Anger, to what Furies and Frenzies this raging Fever of the Mind hath formerly transported him, will more distinctly see the Monstrous Deformity of this Passion, and conceive a juster Abhorrence, and more irreconcilable Hatred against it, than all the fine things that Aristatle and Plato have said upon the Point, can ever work him up to. And the same in Proportion may be expected from a Reflection in all other Cases, where there is a vicious Excess, or violent Concussion of the Soul. He that shall recollect the many false Conclusions, which an erroneous Judgement hath led him into, and the Slips and Miscarriages which an unfaithful Memory hath been guilty of, will learn to be more Cautious, how he trusts either of these for the future: And especially when a Man calls to mind, how many Cases he is able to quote to himself, wherein he thought, all Difficulties sufficiently considered, that he was a perfect Master of his Point; how assured and peremptory he hath been, how forward to answer to himself, and to all he conversed with; nay, to stake his Reputation for the Truth of an Opinion; and yet Time and After-Thought have demonstrated the direct Contrary; This bold confiding Man, I say, will be taught from hence to distrust such hasty Arrogance, and abandon all that unreasonable and peevish Positiveness and Presumption, which, of all Qualities in the World, is the most opposite, most mortal Enemy to better Information and Discovery of the Truth. The Man that shall reflect upon the many Hazards and Sufferings, in which he hath been actually involved, and the many more that have threatened him; how slight and trifling Accidents have yet given great Turns to his Fortunes, and changed the whole Face of his Affairs; how often he hath been forced to take new Measures, and found Cause to dislike what once appeared well designed and wisely managed: This Man will expect and make Provision for Changes hereafter, will be sensible how slippery Ground he stands upon, will consider the Uncertainties of Humane Life, will behave himself with Modesty and Moderation, will mind his own Business, and not concern himself with other People, to the giving them any Offence, or creating any Disturbance, and will undertake or aim at nothing too big for him. And were Men all thus disposed, what a Heaven upon Earth should we have? Perfect Peace and Order and Justice every where. In short, the truest Glass we can consult, the most improving Book we can read, is Our own selves, provided we would but hold our Eyes open, and keep our Minds fixed with all due Attention upon it; so bringing to a close and distinct View, and watching every Feature, every Line, every Act and Motion of our Souls so narrowly, that none may escape us.  
But alas! this is the least of our Care, and the farthest thing in our Thoughts. 
Against those who know not themselves.  
* Nemo in sese rentat descendere.  Into himself none labours to descend. And hence it is that we fall so low and so often. To this must be imputed our perpetual Relapses into the same Fault, without being ever touched with a Sense of our Error, or troubling ourselves at all about the matter. We play the fool egregiously, at our own vast Expense: For Difficulties in any case are never rightly understood, except by such as have measured their own Abilities. And indeed as a Man must thrust at a Door before he can be sure that it is shut against him; so there is some degree of Application and good Sense necessary in order to the perceiving the Defects of one's own Mind. And we cannot have a more infallible Demonstration of the universal Ignorance of Mankind than this, that every body appears so gay, so forward, so undertaking, so highly satisfied; and that none can be found, who at all question the Sufficiency of their own Understanding. For were we throughly acquainted with ourselves, we should manage ourselves and our Affairs after quite another manner: We should be ashamed of ourselves and our Condition, and become a new kind of Creatures. He that is ignorant of his Failings, is in no pain to correct them; and he that knows not his Wants, takes no manner of care for Supplies; and he that feels not his Disease and his Misery, never thinks of repairing the Breaches of his Constitution, or is solicitous for Physic. 
† Deprehendas te oportet priusquam emendas; sanitatis initium sentire sibi opus esse remedio.  You must know yourself before you can mend yourself; the first Step to Health and Recovery, is the being sensible, that you need a Cure. And this very thing is our Unhappiness; that we think all is safe and well. We are highly contented with ourselves, and thus all our Miseries are doubled. Socrates was pronounced the wisest Man; not for any Excellencies of natural or acquired Parts, which rendered him superior to all the World: But because he understood himself better, behaved himself with Modesty and Decency, and acted like a Man. Thus Socrates was a Prince among Men, as we commonly say, He that hath one Eye is a King among them that have none. Such as are doubly blind, and have no Sense at all left; (For so are the Generality of the World;) Nature makes them weak and wretched at first; but they make themselves doubly so afterwards, by their Pride and lofty Conceits of their own Sufficiency, and an absolute Insensibility of their Wants and their Miseries. The former of these Misfortunes Socrates shared as well as others; for he had his blind Side too: That is, he was a Man, and consequently had the same Alloy of Infirmity and Misery with other Men: But here was the difference, that he knew he was but a Man: He considered his Condition, and made no difficulty to acknowledge all the Imperfections of it; and therefore he dealt honestly and acted wisely; for he lived, and behaved himself as a Man should do. To this Purpose may that Reply be taken, which Truth itself made to the haughty Pharisees, 
Joh. 9.41.  who in Derision said unto him, What then? Are we blind also? If you were blind (says he) that is, if ye were sensible of your Blindness, ye would see better; But because you say, we see, therefore ye remain stark-blind. For those who have an Opinion of their own good Sight, are really blind, and those who are conscious of their own Blindness, are the Men that see best. How wretched a Folly is it to degenerate into Beasts, by not considering carefully that we are Men? 
* Homo cùm sis, id fac semper intelligas.  Since Nature hath made thee a Man, take care constantly to remember that thou art such. We read, that several great Persons have ordered that their Attendants should often ring it in their Ears, That they were Men, intending that Admonition for a Curb to their Exorbitancies. And sure the Practice was admirable, if, as the Sound struck upon their Ears, the Consideration entered their Hearts too. What the Athenians said to Pompey the Great, was not much amiss, You are so far a God, as you acknowledge yourself a Man. For thus much at least is beyond Contradiction, That the way to be an excellently good Man, is to be throughly possessed with the sense of one's being a Man.  
Now this Knowledge of ones self (a thing by the way, very difficult to be attained, 
Means of coming to the Knowledge of one's self. False ones.  and scarce to be met with; as, on the contrary, the mistaking and passing wrong Judgements of one's self, is exceeding obvious and easy) This Knowledge, I say, is never to be acquired by the help of others. My meaning is; Not by comparing ourselves with others, measuring by them, depending upon their Characters, or observing what Agreement or Disagreement there is between our Practice and their Example, so that a Man shall applaud or condemn himself, for doing or not doing as they do, or as they like or dislike. 

* Plus aliis de te quam tu tibi credere noli.  What the World says thou art, believe not true,  
This Credit only to thyself is due.  Nor indeed can we depend upon our own Word or Opinion in the case; For This oftentimes is ; it discovers not all that is to be seen, and it makes a false Report of what it discovers; like a treacherous or a bribed Witness, that shuffles in his Evidence, and is afraid to speak out. Nor can we form a Judgement from any single Action; for this may come from a Man without being intended, or so much as thought of; it may be a sudden Push upon an unusual pressing occasion; the Work of Necessity, or the Work of Chance; a lucky Hit, or a sudden Sally; and owing to Heat or Passion; to one, to all of these, to any thing indeed, rather than to the Man himself. And therefore we can fix no Character from a thing which is not of our own growth. One courageous Action no more proves a Man Brave, nor one Act of Justice Just, than the breadth and depth of a River, and the strength of its Current, is to be taken from a sudden accidental Flood, when all the neighbouring Brooks empty themselves into it, and swell it above its Banks. For thus there are Circumstances and Accidents in Humane Life too, which like strong Winds, and rapid Torrents, change our usual Course, and carry us beyond ourselves; and this in so surprising a manner, that Vice itself hath sometimes put Men upon doing very good things: So extremely nice a thing it is, to know Men truly. Again, We can learn nothing to purpose by all the outward Appendages of the Man; his Employments, Preferments, Honours, Riches, Birth, good Acceptance, and general Applause of great and common Men; no, nor yet by his Deportment when he appears abroad; for there the Man plays in Check, stands upon his Guard, and every Motion is with Reserve and Constraint. Fear, and Shame, and Ambition, and a thousand other Passions, put him upon playing the Part you see then acted. To know him throughly, you must follow him into his Closet, see him in the Tireing-Room, and in his everyday Garb. Alas! he is oftentimes quite another thing at Home, than what he appears in the Street, at Court, or upon the Exchange; one sort of Man to Strangers, and another to his own Family. When he goes out of his House, he dresses for the Stage, and the Farce gins; you can lay no stress upon what you see of him there. This is not the Man, but the Character he sets himself to maintain: And you will never know any thing of him, till you make a difference between the Person of the Comedian that plays, and the Person represented by him.  
The knowledge of a Man's self than is not to be compassed by any, 
True ones.  or all of these four ways, nor can we rely upon, or make any sure Conclusions from them. The only way to arrive at it, is by a true, long, constant study of a Man's self; a serious and diligent Examination, such as shall observe and nicely weigh, not only his Words and Actions, but even his most secret Thoughts, (and that so critically, as to discern how they are first born, upon what they feed, and by what degrees they grow, the time of their Continuance, the manner and the frequency of their Returns upon him.) In short, no Motion of his Mind must escape his notice; no, not his very Dreams: He must view himself near, must be eternally prying, handling, pressing, probing, nay pinching himself to the quick: For there are many Vices in us, that lurk close, and lie deep; and we know nothing of them because we do not take the pains to search far enough, and ferret them out: As the venomous Serpent while numbed with cold, is handled safely, and stings not till he is warmed. And further yet, when all this is done, a sense and acknowledgement of particular Failings, and personal Faults, and an endeavour to mend them, will not do the business; but a Man must be convinced of his Weakness and Misery throughout, that every part of him is tainted with it; and from thence he must proceed to amend the whole, and make the Reformation equally general.  
To this purpose we will now apply ourselves in the first Book of this Treatise, to consider and understand Man; by taking him in every sense, 
The Division of this First Book.  looking upon him in the several Prospects he is capable of; feeling his Pulse, sounding him to the bottom, going into him with Candles, searching and ransacking every Hole and Corner, every Maze and Labyrinth, every Closet and false Floor, and all the subtle Wind of his Hypocrisy. And all this Niceness little enough, God knows; for he is the cunningest and most dissembling, the closest and most disguised Creature alive, and indeed almost incapable of being perfectly known. Upon this account we will attempt the Consideration of him under the Five Heads represented by the Table here annexed, which sets before you at one general View, the Substance and the Method of this First Book.  
Five Considerations of Man, and the Condition of Human Nature, taken as follows. 

I. Natural, consisting of the Parts whereof he is compounded, with their several Appurtenances.  
II. Natural and Moral; by stating the Comparison between Him and Brutes.  
III. By giving a Summary Account of his Life.  
iv A Moral Description of his Qualities and Defects, under Five Heads, 

1. Vanity.  
2. Weakness.  
3. Inconstancy.  
4. Misery.  
5. Presumption.    
V Mixed of Natural and Moral; resulting from the Differences between some Men and others, in, 

1. Their Temper.  
2. Their Minds and Accomplishments.  
3. Their Stations and Degrees of Quality.  
4. Their Professions and Circumstances.  
5. Their advantages and disadvantages; and, these again either 

Natural,  
Acquired, or  
Accidental.         

THE First Consideration.  
Which is purely Natural; consisting of the several Parts whereof Man is compounded.  

CHAP. I. Of the Formation of Man.  
THIS is twofold, and therefore capable of a double Consideration: For the First and Original Formation was the immediate Work of God's own Hand; and this was Supernatural and Miraculous. The Second is the Work of ordinary Generation, and lineal Descent, according to the common and established Course of Nature.  
According to that Image given us by Moses, of the Creation of the World, which (for the Nine first Chapters of Genesis, wherein we have an account of the first and second Birth of the Universe) is without dispute, the boldest, noblest, and most satisfactory System, that ever was published, we may observe several Preferences and Privileges peculiar to Man. For he was made by God, not only after all other living Creatures, as the most exquisite and complete; the Master and Superintendent over the rest (so runs his Original Commission, 
Gen. 1.  Let him have dominion over the Fishes of the Sea, and over the Fowls of the Air, and over the Beasts of the Field;) made the same Day with Land-Animals, and  Beasts; which bear the nearest resemblance to him of any other Animals: But made, after all the rest was ended, as the last and finishing Struck; the Seal with which it pleased Almighty God to close up the whole Creation. And accordingly he hath given him such a Bearing and Impress, as plainly speak how nobly he is descended. 
* Signatum est in nos lumen vultûs tui.  The Brightness of the Divinity strongly reflected upon him. 
† Exemplumque Dei quisque est in Imagine parva.  So that each Man is a sort of God in Miniature; expressly said to be form in His own Image, and after His Likeness. Man is likewise not only the Creator, but the whole Creation in Little; the Universe in one small Volume: Whence it is that Man is sometimes styled a Little World; and by the same reason the World might be called a Great Man. He is, as it were, the Mediator of the different parts of Nature, that Link of this long Chain, by which Angels and Brutes, Heaven and Earth, the Spiritual and Corporeal Creation, are tied together; and that void Space supplied, which would make a wide and most unseemly Gap in the Universe, if not filled up, and the Series thus continued, by a Creature partaking of both Extremes. In a word, This was the last Touch, the Masterpiece, the Honour, and Ornament, nay, the Prodigy, and miraculous Production of Nature. Hence it is that God is represented to us as entering into Consultation, and making this Noble Creature with Deliberation and Thought. God said, let us make Man. 
Gen. 2:  And when he had form Man, he is said to have ended all his Work, and to have rested. Nay, even that Rest itself, and the perpetual Commemoration of it, was for His Sake and Bensit. The Sabbath was made for Man, 
Mark 2.  and not Man for the Sabbath, says Truth itself. After this there was no New thing formed, till that most stupendous Miracle of Mercy, when God made himself Man: And this too, as we most truly confess, in one of our Creeds, was for Us Men, and for Our Salvation. From whence it is most evident, that God, in all his Actions and Dispensations, hath a constant and more particular regard to Mankind, that They have a Concern in the greatest Works of Providence, and that almost all God's Do and Administrations are begun and ended with great Respect to Man's Advantage; and so as that the promoting of this, shall be the best and most effectual means of accommodating and reducing all things at last to himself; and Our Happiness be made the proper Instrument of His Glory.  
Man was created Naked, as being more beautiful than all the rest; The Smoothness and Delicacy of his Skin, the nice tempering of his Humours and Complexion making a very advantageous Distinction in this respect, above any other Creature whatsoever.  
The Body of Man is erect, and touches the Ground with but a very little part of it; but is set straight upright toward Heaven, where he may contemplate his Great Original, view and take Knowledge of his own Perfections, as in a Glass fitted for that purpose. The Plants are just the very Reverse of all this: Their Head and Root is buried in the Ground; and there they spread, and thence they get Improvement. Brutes are in a Position between these Two: But some of them approach nearer to the One, and some nearer to the Other of those Extremes. As to the true Cause of this upright Figure, it is plain, the Rational Soul cannot be It: For the Crooked, the Lame, the Deformed, are so many living Instances, and undeniable Proofs to the Contrary: Nor can it be the Backbone formed in a direct Line; for Serpents have the same: Nor is it surely the Excess of Natural and Vital Heat above other Creatures; for many other Animals equal, and some excel us in this Respect; tho' I will not deny, but each of these may contribute somewhat toward it: (And that of the Serpent is the less Objection against the Form of the Backbone; because the Crawling of that Creature upon his Belly, is expressly declared to be a Punishment and lasting Reproach, for the Tempter's having assumed this Form in working the Seducement and Ruin of our first Parents.) But the very Truth is, Our great and mighty Maker and Master thought this the most convenient Posture, and such as best agreed with the Dignity and Preeminence of Humane Nature, particularly upon two Accounts,  
Partly, as a Mark of Distinction due to the Excellencies of the Humane Mind: Thus the old Poets represented it, 

* Sanctius his Animal, etc.—  A Creature of a more exalted kind  
Was wanting yet; 
Ovid Met. Lib. 1.  and then was Man designed:  
Conscious of Thought, of more capacious Breast.   
And partly as an Ensign of Royalty; some Characters whereof Naturalists have observed in some other petty Principalities; such as the Crown in the Dolphin, the Diadem in the Basilisk, the Lion's stately Mane, which serves as a Collar of Honour; the Colour and the Eyes in the Eagle, and the King among the Bees. But Man being vested with an universal Monarchy, walks stately upon the Earth, like a Master in his own House: He subdues and manages All either by fair means or by foul; captivates and brings them to his hand by force; or makes them tractable and tame, by gentle and winning Usage. Hence the same Poet proceeds, 
For Empire formed, and fit to rule the rest,  
He, while the mute Creation downward bend  
Their Sight, and to their Earthy Mother tend,  
Looks up aloft, and with erected Eyes  
Beholds his own Hereditary Skies.  Dryden.  
His Body was formed at first out of Virgin-Earth, of a Red Complexion, from whence the proper Name of Adam was derived: 
Adom Rufus. Heb. Gen. 2.6, 7.  For the common Appellative of the Species in general is Ish. And This well moistened, was the common Materials of our Body. So again the Poet, 

* 
— Mixtam fluvialibus undis  
Finxit in effigiem.—   Earth the wise Maker tempered into Paste,  
And mixed with living Streams the Godlike Image cast.   
In all Reason, the Body must be before the Soul, as we naturally conceive Matter antecedent to its Form; as the House must be framed and fitted up, before we can suppose an Inhabitant in it; and a Shop made and furnished, before any Trade can be exercised there.  
When This was prepared and done, the next thing in order was to animate this Body, by the Infusion of a Soul, conveyed thither by Divine Inspiration; For God, (says Moses) breathed into him the breath of Life, and so Man became a living Soul. Of which, what Tradition the Heathen World retained, may be learned from the same Author, who proposes This as the first probable Solution of that wonderful Production. 
— 
* 
— Hunc divino semine fecit  
Ille opifex rerum.—   With Particles of Heavenly Fire  
The God of Nature did his Soul inspire.  And closes his Account, 

† 
Sic modo quae fuerat rudis, & sine imagine tellus:  
Induit ignotas hominum conversa figuras.   From such rude Principles our Form began,  
And Earth was metamorphosed into Man.   
The same Order seems to be constantly observed in ordinary Generations, and the forming of Natural Births ever since: For here the Body is first form, and That, according to the best Remarks which the Curious have been able to make, in, or somewhat near the following Method. The first seven Days are employed in bringing the Seminal Principles to a due Consistency, and perfecting the Conception, to which some have been apt to think Job might allude, Chap. X. v. 10. The next seven Days are taken up in Concocting, Digesting and Changing those first Elements into Flesh and Blood; which is as yet an unformed Mass, but the proper Ground and Matter of the Humane Body. In the third Week, the Body in gross is form, so that after some one and twenty Days the three most Noble and Useful Parts of the Body are fashioned; the Liver, the Heart and the Brain; and These lie at length, distant from one another in a kind of oval or oblong Figure, and connected, or just tacked together by some thin lose Joynings, which are afterwards filled up, and resemble the Form of an Ant; where you may observe Three grosser and fuller Parts, coupled and held together by Two slenderer, that lie betwixt. The fourth Week, which raises the Account to very near Thirty Days, the whole Body is perfected, and the Parts and Organs of it distinguishable; and from thenceforth it ceases to be an Embryo, as that denotes a rude shapeless Mass; and is now in a Condition to receive the Soul; which accordingly loses no time, but comes and takes Possession of its new Dwelling, at or before the Term of Forty Days; that is, at five or six Weeks. When this proportion of Time is doubled, namely after three Months, the Animated Infant usually gins to move; and much about the fourth Month the Hair and Nails set forward. And after the same Term three times told; that is, after nine Months, is the usual time of Maturity, and coming into the World. These may perhaps to some seem useless Curiosities, and not altogether becoming a Treatise of this Nature: But I must own, that I think, one great Advance towards the true and the best Wisdom, would be to understand this part of ourselves; and sure Men could not but express a greater and more awful Regard of Almighty God, did they but consider whose Hands have fashioned and finished them; who watched and brought forward their Substances when crude and imperfect; wrote their Members in his Book; and made them to be what they are, after a fearful and very wonderful Manner.   

CHAP. II. The first and general Distinction of Man.  
MAN, as if designed to be all over Wonder, is a Creature made up of Ingredients vastly different, 
First into Two Parts.  nay directly opposite to one another: For what can be more so, than those two Constituent Parts, His Soul and His Body? Look upon him with regard to the former of These, and He is a sort of inferior Deity: Turn your Eyes down to the latter, and that Person which before you almost adored, you will now be tempted as much to loath and despise; For what is Man thus above a Beast? What but a Load of Corruption, and a Sink of Ill-Humours? And yet, this wonderful disparity notwithstanding, these two so distant Parts are linked together with such amazing Art, and embrace each other so close and kindly, that there is at the same time eternal Quarrels, and yet an inviolable Friendship between them. They cannot live together peaceably, and yet they cannot part contentedly: Like a Man, that hath a Wolf by the Ears, and neither knows how to hold him, nor to let him go: So is each of these Principal Parts in Man; and each may say to the other what the Poet did.  

* Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te.  My Help and Hindrance, Health and Sickness; I  
Cannot live with thee; and without thee die.  
But in regard one of these Parts admits of a Subdivision, by reason of a great and manifest Difference in the Faculties and Parts of this Soul of ours; 
Then into Three.  the One part Noble and Pure, Intellectual and Divine; the Other Mean, and Sensual, and Brutish; The best and most lively Representation of Man, and the surest Method of attaining to the Knowledge of him, seems to be the making of this first Division to consist of Three Branches; and saying, That the Constituent Parts of Man are, the Mind, the Soul, and the Flesh. Of these the Mind and the Flesh are the two distant Extremes, distant as Heaven and Earth are from each other; and the Soul hath a middle Station between both, like the Region where all the Storms and Meteors are formed. The Mind is the most Heroic and exalted Part; the Breath, the Beam, the Image, the Efflux of the Divinity. This in the Man is as the King in the Body Politic; its Tendencies and Motions are to Heaven and Happiness; and it breathes nothing but what is Pure, and Spiritual, and Divine. The Flesh, quite contrary, is like the Dregs of the People, a vile and stupid, rude and Tumultuous Mob, the Sediment and Lees, the Brutish part of Man; and this is perpetually disposed to Evil, and sunk into Matter. The Soul, in its middle State, like Persons of Quality in a Kingdom, below the Best, and above the Worst, is capable of inclining to Good or to Evil; and accordingly it is continually solicited on both sides with great Importunity: The Mind and the Flesh are ever struggling to win it over, and, according to the Side it takes, it becomes either a Spiritual and Virtuous, or a Vicious and Carnal Soul. This is the Seat of all those Appetites and Passions implanted in us by Nature, which, considered simply, and in themselves, have neither Virtue nor Vice in them: Such, for Instance, as Love, (that kind of it which we bear to our Friends and Relations) and Fear, such as that of Shame, Compassion for Persons in Distress, and Desire of a good Reputation.  
This Distinction deserves the rather to be observed, because it will assist us very much in the Knowledge of ourselves, and give Men a true Idea of their Actions, which are otherwise apt to be misunderstood, by passing Judgements upon a slight and superficial View, and attributing That to the Mind, which in reality proceeds from the Soul; nay sometimes from the Flesh, and mistaking That for Virtue, which is merely the effect of Nature, nay the instigation of Vice: For it is no breach of Charity to say, that a great many noble and brave Actions have been done in Heat and Passion, or else out of Humour, and Fancy, and natural Inclination; not so much with a design to benefit Others, as to please our Selves.   

CHAP. III. Of the Humane Body, and its Constituent Parts.  
THE Body of Man is built and put together, so as to consist of Parts vastly numerous, both Within and Without: And of These by far the greater Number, are either Round, or of a Figure not far distant from it.  
Those Within are of Two sorts: Some dispersed all over the Body in large Quantities, and great Numbers; as for Instance, The Bones, which are the Bases and Pillars that support this Structure: The Muscles, which are the Instruments of Strength and Motion: The Veins, which are the Channels for conveying the Blood to the Heart; and the Arteries, which like so many Pipes, feed them perpetually, by sending it from the Heart to the several parts of the Body. The Nerves, which are distributed by Pairs, and are the Instruments of Sense and Motion, by virtue of the Animal Spirits contained in, and diffused by them. Of These some are soft, which serve the Head, and assist Our Sight, our Hearing, our Taste, and our Speech: Others are hard, and these are laid along the Spina Dorsi, and so inserted into the Muscles; The Tendons, the Ligaments, and the Cartilages. There are likewise the Four Humours, the Blood; Choler, which provokes and hinders Obstructions, throws off the the Excrementitious Parts, and excites Cheerfulness: Melancholy, which whets the Appetite, and moderates sudden Motions: Phlegm, which sweetens the two Humours last mentioned, (Yellow and Black Choler) and checks inordinate Heats. The Spirits, which are a sort of generous Fumes, evaporated by the Natural Heat, and Radical Moisture; and of These there are Three Degrees of Excellency, the Natural, the Vital, and the Animal. The Fat, which is the thickest and Oyliest part of the Blood.  
Other Parts are single, and determined to some particular Place. Now the whole Body may be conveniently enough divided into Four Stories or Apartments, which are in a manner so many several Shops or Workhouses, wherein Nature keeps her Powers and Faculties employed. The First and Lowest of These is that concerned in the propagation of the Species. The Second, and next above, is the Entrails, the Bowels, and Stomach, which in Situation inclines somewhat to the Left-Side; its Form is round, straighter below than above, with two Orisices, one at the Top, to receive Nourishment; another at the Bottom, answering to the Guts, whose Business 'tis to discharge and empty it. This Vessel receives, collects, mingles, and concocts the several sorts of Nourishment taken in at our Mouths; and from thence works off a Whitish Juice called Chyle, proper for the Sustenance and Nutriment of the Body, and afterwards wrought over again more accurately in the Meseraick Veins, through which it passes into the Liver. The Liver is hot and moist, lying somewhat more to the Rightside. This is the proper Workhouse of the Blood, the great Source of the Veins, the Seat of the Vegetative Faculty: Here the Chyle drawn off from the Meseraick Veins is converted into Blood; which is taken into its Cavities by the Vena Porta, and discharged again by the Vena Cava, (which issues from the Convex part,) and its Branches, in abundance of Ducts, like Rivulets or Streams from a Fountain. In the Left-Side lies the Spleen, which receives the Discharge and Excrementitious Humours of the Liver. Then follow the Reins and the Guts, which hang altogether in one Link, and, as according to the usual Proportion, the Stature of a Man is seven times as much as the length of a common Foot; so the Bowels, when drawn out, are usually seven times the length of a Man. These Two former Apartments, which some contract into One, (though the Offices of them are so very different, as to justify the distinguishing them into Two) are by many Authors resembled to the lowest Region of the Universe; the Elementary one, which is the Seat of Generation and Corruption; and here that which goes by the Name of the Concupiscible Soul, keeps its peculiar Residence.  
The Third Story is compared to the Aethereal Region; and this is separated from the former by the Diaphragme, as it is from That still above it by the Throat: Here the Irascible Soul hath its Dwelling; and Here those parts in the Breast lie, which are termed the Praecordia; as the Heart, whose Situation is much about the Fifth Rib, and its Point a little diverting towards the Left-Pap. This is exceeding Hot; the common Source of all the Arteries, by which it distributes the Vital Blood there concocted, through the whole Body, and in that Blood the Vital Spirits: And all this by a discharge so sensible and strong, that each Evacuation creates that Motion which we call the Pulse. Here likewise are the Lungs, a soft, rare, and spongy Substance, supple and pliable in their Motions, like a pair of Bellows; and thus they become the Instruments of Respiration: By which the Heart is cooled with fresh Air, the Blood kept in perpetual Agitation; the Fumes and Excrements that oppress it are by this means discharged, and the Voice form by the help of the Aspera Arteria, or Windpipe.  
The Fourth and Last Apartment, which answers to that highest Region, by way of Eminence called Heaven, is the Head; and this contains the Brain, a Substance cold and spongy, covered over, and wrapped up in two Membranes, One hard and thick, which touches the Skull, and is termed the Dura Mater: The Other more gentle and thin, contiguous to the former, and known by the Name of Pia Mater. From the Brain are derived all the Nerves, and that Marrow which runs all along through the Backbone. This Brain is the Seat of the Reasonable Soul, the Source of Sense and Motion, and of all those Noble Spirits called the Animal and extracted from the Vital Spirits, which when sent up through the Arteries into the Brain, are concocted, refined, wrought off, and subtilised, by means of an infinite number of small and exceeding fine Arteries, which, like so many little Threads plaited and interwoven with each other, make a sort of Labyrinth, or double Net, (the Rete Mirabile) in which the Vital Spirit being kept, by perpetual Motion backward and forward, is exalted and refined, till it becomes Animal, that is, sublimated and spirituous to the last and highest Degree.  
The Outward Parts, and such as stand in View, are either single or double. If single, they are placed in the midst, as the Nose, which serves us in Breathing and Smelling, and conveys Comfort and Refreshment to the Brain; as it is also useful for the discharge of any Humours which happen to annoy the Head: And through this Passage the Air goes in and out, both for the Service of the Lungs below, and of the Brain above. The Mouth, which assists us in Speaking and Eating; and as the Uses of it are different, so are the Parts likewise which qualify it for those Uses. Without, there are the Lips; Within, you have the Tongue, extremely nimble in Motion, and a nice Distinguisher of Tastes: The Teeth, to bruise and chew our Meat, and prepare it for the Stomach.  
If the Parts of the Head be double and alike, they are placed collaterally, and answer exactly to each other: So do the Eyes, which, like Sentinels or Spies, are posted at the top of the House, for the gaining a more advantageous Prospect: These are made up of wonderful variety; each hath Three Humours, Seven Coats, Seven Muscles, different Colours, and are formed with infinite Artifice, and inexpressible Contrivance. They are indeed the noblest and most admirable Parts of any that appear outwardly in the Body: Their Beauty, their Usefulness, the Sprightliness of their Motion, their strange Attractive Power in creating Love. These are to the Face what the Face is to the rest of the Body; the Life and Air of the Countenance itself: And in regard they are exceeding tender, and nice, and valuable, therefore provident Nature hath covered and fenced them in very carefully on all sides, with Skins, and Lids, and Brows, and Hair. The Ears are near upon the same Level with the Eyes; these being a sort of Scouts to the Body, and Porters for the Mind; they receive, report, and distinguish Sounds, which naturally ascend upward. The Approaches and Entries of this Organ of Sense, are intricate and crooked, full of Wind and Turn, to prevent the Air from rushing in too quick, and with too great Violence, by which means the Hearing might be extremely impaired, the Organ wounded and strained, and the Sound more confused by its excessive loudness.  
To all these we must add the Hands and Arms, by which all manner of Workmanship is performed; and our Legs and Feet, which like Pillars support this wonderful Edifice, and which, although not of the Trunk and main part of the Body, are yet Instruments of such universal Use, that the Body can very hardly subsist without them; and it would be very ungrateful not to allow These an honourable Mention in this Account, whose Labours make Provision for the whole.   

CHAP. IU.  
THE Body of Man hath several very particular and distinguishing Qualities, which are Excellencies peculiar to himself, and such as Beasts have no share at all in. The first and most remarkable seem to be these that follow: Speech, an Erect Stature, that Form and Port which hath been in so high Esteem among wise Men, nay, even with the Stoics, the Rigidest and most Abstracted of all Philosophers, that they declared it more eligible to be a Fool in Human Shape, than to be Wise in the Form of a Brute; So preferring the advantage of this Frame of Ours, before even Wisdom itself, and all the Beauties of the Soul without it: The Hand, which is a Prodigy in Nature, and no other Creature, not even the Ape itself, hath any thing comparable to it; the Natural Nakedness and Smoothness of our Skin; Laughing and Crying; the Sense of being Tickled; the Eye-Lash upon the lower Lid of the Eye; a visible Navel; the Point of the Heart inclining toward the Left-Side; the Knee, which is said to stand forward in no other Creature whatsoever; the Palpitation of the Heart; Bleeding at the Nose, which you will think very odd, when you recollect that Men carry their Heads upright, and Beasts hang theirs down toward the Ground; Blushing for Shame; Looking Pale for Fear; Multiplying at all times indifferently; not moving their Ears, which in other Animals is a signification of their inward Passions: But These are sufficiently discovered in Mankind by looking Red or Pale; and particular Motions of the Eyes and Nose.  
Others, tho' they are not altogether his own, and incommunicable, yet may be styled Peculiar, in respect of the Degree, and the Advantage he hath above others which partake of them: Such are the Number of his Muscles, and vast Quantity of Hair upon his Head; the Nimbleness and wonderful Variety of Motions in his Limbs and Joints; the great Abundance of the Brain; the Largeness of his Bladder; the Form of the Foot, so very long forward, and so short a Heel behind; the vast Quantity, the Clearness, and the Fineness of the Blood; the Easiness and Agility of the Tongue; the Multitude, and unspeakable Variety of his Dreams, so extremely above all other Animals, that Man alone deserves the Name of a Dreaming Creature; the Faculty of Sneezing: And, to be short, the innumerable different Motions of his Eyes, and Nose, and Lips.  
Some there are that have particular Countenances and Looks, Gestures and Motions, which Art and Affectation have accustomed them to; and sonle others who have these from Nature: They are particular indeed, and so distinguish them from other Men; but yet they are so Natural, that the Persons are not at all sensible of them when they do them; as leaning the Head on one side, blowing the Nose, and a hundred other such Gestures. But some again there are common to all Mankind, such as Reason and Contrivance hath nothing to do in, but they are the effect of mere Natural Impulse; as for Instance, that of putting our Hands before us when we are falling; which all do without thinking; and some do it we see at a time when they cannot think at all.   

CHAP. V Of the Advantages of the Body, etc.  
THE Excellencies of the Body are Health, Beauty, 
Health preferred.  Sprightliness, Agility, Vigour, Dexterity, Gracefulness in Motion and Behaviour; but Health is infinitely above all; Health is the loveliest, the most desirable, the richest Present in the power of Nature to make: It justly challenges precedence above all Temporal Blessings and Advantages. Not only Learning and Knowledge, Wealth and Greatness, and Noble Blood, but even Wisdom itself, in the Judgement of the severest Philosophers, is inferior to it. This is the only thing, that deserves our utmost Endeavours, our greatest Hazards, the only one, which is worth the venturing our very Lives for the acquiring and enjoyment of it: For indeed our very Lives without it are flat and insipid, nay they are troublesome and painful; and Virtue and Wisdom languish, and decay, and die, if this do not keep them in Beauty, and Vigour, and Exercise. Suppose a Man of the greatest Abilities that ever Human Nature had, or is capable of, what Advantage would all this be to him in a Fit of an Apoplex, or a Fever, or any other violent Distemper? Certainly there can be but one thing in the World more valuable, and that is Probity; for Probity is to the Soul what Health is to the Body. Now, though this be commonly the Gift of Nature, and the effect of an originally good Constituon, a just and proper Temperament of Humours, and fit Disposition of Parts and Vessels in the first Formation of the Body; yet no doubt can be made, but the Nourishment and Methods afterwards contribute very much to it also. The wholsomness of the Milk, and a good sound Nurse in the time of Infancy; and a regular way of Living, when Men come to their own Conduct and Management; Sobriety and Temperance of all kinds; moderate Exercise; Appetites well governed, and keeping one's self from Melancholy, and all violent Passion and Disorder of the Mind, do assist, preserve, confirm, and finish what Nature and Complexion at first begun. Sickness and Pain are its Opposites and Enemies, and these are the sorest, perhaps indeed (when all things are rightly considered) the Only Evils incident to Mankind: Concerning which more will be said hereafter. But both in Enjoying and Preserving this, the Brutes seem to have the better of us; for Man often ruins himself, and pays dear for his Frolicks and Excesses.  
The next Advantage to This in Order and Dignity, is Beauty; 
Beauty.  which is a very great Recommendation, and of mighty influence in Conversation and Society: This is the first thing that conciliates Men's Favour, and unites them to one another; and it is highly probable, that this was the first and principal Mark of Distinction, the first Consideration, which gave Men any Preference and Authority over their Fellows. The Power and Efficacy of this Quality is indisputable; every one sees and feels it; no other Accomplishment gains more Esteem; none is so General and so Commanding in all the Affairs of Human Life. None are so Barbarous, none so Stupid or so Obstinate, as not to be smitten with it: It steps forward, and offers itself to public View; it bespeaks our Favour, prepossesses our Fancy, seduces and bribe's our Judgement, makes strong and deep Impressions, and is full of Importunity, full of Authority. Socrates understood its Power full well, when he called it, a short Tyranny upon the Mind; and Plato, when he termed it the Privilege of Nature. For a Man can hardly forbear thinking, that the Persons, to whom Nature hath been so partial in her Favours, and signalised with charming and uncommon Graces, have a sort of lawful inborn Power over us, and were made to command. These, when they draw our Eyes and Observation, do insensibly attract our Hearts too, and fasten our Affections upon them, and captivate and enslave us, whether we will or no. Aristotle says, that Superiority and Government belongs to the Comely; that They command our Veneration next after the Gods, as being the liveliest and fairest Copies of those Glorious Originals; and that all but the Blind must, and aught to be affected with their Excellencies. The three great Princes, Cyrus, Alexander, and Caesar, found This of mighty Importance, and made the Gracefulness of their Persons turn to good Account in their weightiest Affairs; and so did Scipio more than any of them. Handsome and Good, have a great Affinity, and both the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Greek Language, and the Style of Holy Scriptures, seem to express this, by using one and the same Word, to signify both. Several great Philosophers found their Beauty Serviceable, in their Study, and Acquisition of Wisdom; and to show, that this Recommendation is universal, it is not consigned to Men only, but is valued, and of great Request, even among Brutes.  
Now Beauty is of great Variety, and may be considered in very different Respects. 
Different Sorts of it  That which is proper to Men, consists chief in a Majestic Form and goodly Stature; The other sorts of Beauty are of a softer and more Esseminate Kind; they may be rather called Prettinesses, and these are more peculiar to the Female Sex. In each of These, there is a Subdivision; One, which is a fixed and lasting Beauty, and this consists in having the Parts well proportioned, and the Colours justly mixed; A Body not swelled nor bloated, and yet not so thin and meager neither, that the Nerves should show themselves, or the Bones start out of the Skin; but full of Blood, and Spirits, and well in Flesh; the Muscles high and clear; the Skin smooth and soft; the Complexion fresh and ruddy. The Other is a movable and inconstant Beauty, which may be termed Gracefulness; and this consists in a good Air, and becoming Motions; wherein All the parts of the Body are concerned, but the Eyes more so, than any of the rest. The former is as it were Dead, when not attended with This, for all the Life and Action is in the latter. There are also some Beauties of a more masculine, and rough, and fierce Air; and others of a softer, sweet, tender, and languishing Kind.  
The Beauty and Excellence of the Body, is more peculiarly seated in the Face; 
Of the Face  and our Measures of it are chief taken from thence. The loveliest Thing in the Person of a Man, is, his Soul; and in the Body of a Man, it is his Face; For this is as it were the Abstract, the Copy and Image of the Soul. It is a piece of Natural Heraldry, where all the Advantages and Coats of Pretence are distinctly Quartered and Blazoned; and This, like a Scutcheon, is placed upon the Front of the House, that you may know whose Seat it is, and who, and of what Quality the Person is, that owns and inhabits it. For the Face is an Abridgement of the whole Man; and this seems to be the Reason, why Art, which always follows Nature, and treads in Her Steps, troubles itself little farther in Paintings and Carving, than to give you an exact Representation of the Face from the Life; and leaves the rest of the Picture or Statue to the Artist's own Discretion.  
Now there are several very great Niceties, 
Some particular Properties of the Face.  particularly observable in Humane Faces; such as may very truly be termed Properties of the Face, since neither Brutes, nor any other part of our own Bodies, can pretend to the like. And indeed, for want of These, Brutes can scarce be truly said to have any Face. First, The Great Number and Variety of distinct Features, and the several Fashions of them. For those of Beasts consist of much fewer; The Cheeks, the Chin, and the Forehead, are There all in one, and not distinguished like Ours; nor have they the Figure of ours at all. Secondly, The Wonderful Diversity of Colours; for in the Eye itself, there is a mixture of Black and White, and Green, and Blue, and Red, and Crystalline. Thirdly, The Regular Symmetry of the Parts, whereby the Proportions answer to each other. And this is observable in the Organs of Sense, being double, and exactly corresponding; and in the different Relations, which the rest bear mutually, in Length and Breadth. Thus the largeness of each Eye, measuring at the Top of the Socket, gives you the Wideness of the Mouth; the Breadth of the Forehead is the same with the Length of the Nose; and that again is of the same Dimension with the Lips, and the Chin below. Fourthly, The wonderful Diversity of Faces, so Nice, so astonishing; that among so many Millions of People, there are not two to be found exactly, and all through alike. This is such a Masterpiece, as all Nature cannot furnish such another Instance of. And this deserves a little more particular Attention; because it shows the Goodness, as well as the Power and Wisdom of our Adorable Maker, upon the Account of the mighty Consequence and Benefit such Variety is of to Humane Society. First, In regard it supplies us with Marks of Distinction, sufficient to know one another asunder by. For infinite and unconceivable Mischiefs must needs follow, no less indeed than utter disbanding and breaking off all Commerce and Communication, if Men's Faces were so like, as to make us liable perpetually, to mistake one Person for another: A Daughter for a Wife, an Enemy for a Friend; and thus a second and worse Babel would follow. Were there no Resemblance at all indeed, than Men would not be distinguished from Brutes; but were there not some Unlikeliness too, than any one Man could not be discerned from any other Man. And, which is yet more wonderful; Nature hath dealt these Differences so artificially, as to satisfy all Parties; and found out a Secret, that those who are most unlike should be highly contented themselves, and should please others also. For the Matter is so ordered, that there is no Person, but is approved, and thought very well to pass, by some body or other; and the Faces themselves do not disagree more than People's Fancies, and their Inclinations to several sorts of That which they call Beauty. A Fifth Quality peculiar to Humane Faces, is the Dignity and Honour of them, resulting from the Oval Figure, the Straight Position, the Elevation above the Body, their Direction upwards to Heaven, their naked Graces, without any Covering of Shag, or Hair, or Feathers, or Scales, as Beasts and Birds have. A Sixth is the Air of the Face, a pleasant Agreeable Sweetness; so insinuating, so engaging, that (as was said before) Hearts are immediately caught, and our Wills and Affections violently born away with it. In a Word, The Face is the Throne of Beauty and of Love; Seat of Smiles, and of Kisses, two things peculiar to Mankind; agreeable and innocent, when used as Nature intended them, for true and affectionate Expressions of Civility, and Friendship, and Kindness, and a good Understanding between Man and Man, and once a Ceremony used in the most Solemn, Religious Assemblies. Lastly, This is adapted to all manner of Changes in the Temper; it expresses all the inward Motions and Passions of the Soul. Joy and Grief, Love or Hatred, Envy and Malice, Shame and Anger, Indignation and Jealousy, and the rest of them, immediately betray themselves here. This is like the Hand to the Watch, which tells us the Hours and the Minutes, while all the Wheels and Springs, by which those Movements are made, lie within and out of sight. And as the Air receives all Colours, and all Alterations of the Wether, and so lets us know what Changes are coming: So may it be said of the Countenance too. 
* Cor●us animum tegit & detegit: In fancy legitur homo.  The Bedy (says one) both covers and discovers the Mind, and you may read the Man in his Face.  
The Beauty of a Face, 
● Desecration of the Beauty 〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉  consists in a large, square, well spread Forchead; Clear and unclouded; even, small and fine Lyebrows; a well cut, brisk and sparkling Eye; a straight well proportioned Nose; a little Mouth with red Lips; High full Cheeks, with a pleasant Dimple in smiling; a round compact Ear; and all over These a lively Complexion of good wholesome White and Red. But yet this Description is not allowed Universally; for several Nations and Climates have several Opinions of Beauty. The Indians particularly esteem That the most exquisite Beauty, which We look upon to be the greatest Desormity; a Tawny Complexion, large thick Lips, a flat wide Nose, and Teeth stained with Black or Red; long hanging Ears; a low hairy Forehead; vast pendulous Breasts, so large, that they may fling them over their Shoulders, and give Suck to the Children at their Backs; and these are so much in Esteem, so desirable Qualities, that they use all possible Art and Industry, to bring themselves to this Shape. But what need we go to the Indies, when our very next Neighbours differ so much in their Notions of the Matter? For the Spaniards think none Beauties, but the Lean and Slender; and the Italians on the other Hand prefer the the well-set, the strong, and the plump; and think there can be no such thing as Handsomeness without these Qualifications. And indeed in every Country some are for the soft, the weak, the tender, and the little Women; and others for the tall, the strong, the masculine, and bolder Beauties.  
Now this outward Gracefulness of the Body, 
Beauty of Boly and Mind.  and more particularly that of the Face, aught in all reason to be an Indication, and certain Evidence of the inward Beauties of the Soul. (And these consist in an Evenness of Temper, a Regularity of Opinions and Judgements, steadily maintained, and a Firmness and Constancy of Mind resulting from hence) For surely nothing is more agreeable to Nature, than the mutual Relation and Conformity of the Body and the Mind. And where this Correspondence and Similitude does not appear, we are to conclude, that some Accident hath unfortunately interposed, and broken the ordinary Course of Nature; as it very often happens, and is very apparent, that there does. For the Milk of a base Nurse; the First Advances in Education and Instruction, the Company they frequent, and sund●y other things may leave a strong Tincture behind, wor● mighty Changes in the Natures and Humours of Men, and give them Dispositions quite different from those they were born with, either toward Virtue, or to Vice. Socrates acknowledged, that the Deformity of his Body, testified against him for the Deformity of his Soul; and that the Evidence it gave was true; but that by Study and Pains added to a good Education, he had amended his Mind. The Air and Face of a Man is no good Rule, and very dangerous it is to depend upon it either way. But they who have an honest engaging Look, aught to suffer double Punishment, if they belie it in their Actions. For they betray and deceive People by their fair Promises, which Nature hath written in their Foreheads, and which they themselves make so ill a Use of, as to trapan and cheat the World with them.  
It were well indeed, if we would follow Socrates his Advice upon this Occasion, as all of us ought to do, in becoming more nice and attentive in observing and considering curiously the Beauties of men's Minds; and in taking the same Satisfaction in beholding those Charms, as we do in gazing upon these of the Body; And so to come up close to them, contract an Alliance, and Friendship with them; and unite ourselves to them inseparably, by admiring, loving, imitating them with all imaginable Affection and Zeal. This were an Object worthy our Passion indeed. But alas! all People are not qualisied for it, none but Philosophical Eyes can behold and discover Those Graces, and none but pure and resined Souls can take Delight in the Love and Practice of them.   

CHAP. VI Of Apparel for the Body.  
MAny probable Reasons may be given that may induce us to believe the way of going Naked, which is still continued in a considerable part of the World, to have been the Original, and once Universal Mode of all Mankind, how odd and singular soever it may seem to Us at this Day. The other of Clothing seems the Effect of Art and Invention, contrived to abolish Nature upon pretence of mending it; as fantastical People shut out the Sun, and enlighten their Rooms at Midday with Tapers and Candles. And surely this is not so much the dictate of Necessity, as some would make us believe. For it is by no means to be imagined, that Nature, which hath been so Liberal in all her Provisions for every other Creature, and particularly in Point of warm and convenient Covering, hath dealt so much worse by Man, than all the rest, as to leave him the only indigent Child she hath, and in such Need of Help from other Hands, that he must starve and perish presently, if he be not succoured, and supplied with it. This is one of the Reproaches, which fanciful and melancholy People cast upon Nature, when they call her a hard and cruel Stepmother, to Mankind; but that Charge against her is false and unjust. Upon the supposition, that Men had from the Beginning been all accustomed to , it is not easy to conceive how any Number of them should ever take up a Fancy of throwing them aside again, and going Naked; both because a Regard to their Health, which must needs have suffered extremely by so disadvantageous an Exchange, and a Regard to Modesty and Shame too, must in all reason have persuaded the Contrary. And yet we see, this is still the Fashion in several Nations, which is a great Presumption of its having once been the Fashion of all Mankind Naturally. For what can be alleged for the Contrary Opinion? Will you urge the Two common Reasons, that Clothes were always necessary to cover our Shame, and to defend us against the Cold? (I mention not the Heat, because it is not likely they were taken up for a Protection against That) These Arguments are plainly insufficient. Look back to the Primitive State of our First Ancestors, and you will find that Nature never taught them to be out of Countenance at their Nakedness. The Distinctions of this Kind are of a later Date; and it was Gild First, and then Custom, that introduced Shame. Besides, even those very Parts, which we take Pains to conceal, Nature hath been beforehand with us, in keeping out of Sight. But if we should allow this for one Reason of Clothing, yet the Argument can only concern the Covering of these Parts. The Consequence of it cannot possibly extend to the rest, and thus we see in some Countries some Persons of Better Condition, do consult their own and the Beholder's Modesty, without troubling themselves for any farther Garments; though the Common People in the same Places go stark naked. Some have thought it a Disparagement, that Man, who challenges a Precedence and Authority over all Things here below, should not dare to show himself to the World, as God Almighty made him; but though that Thought be liable to some Exception, yet I think truly, it cannot be for his Honour, to think himself Enriched with the Spoils of his Subjects; to be Proud of the Ornaments they furnish him with, and value himself, or disesteem others, according as he possesses, or they want these poor Advantages, (if they are sit to be called Advantages even in the last and lowest Degree.) And yet this is a Vanity so prevailing, that, as if Reason could not urge enough to make People ashamed of it, Religion hath interposed her Authority too, to forbid Affectation and Pride in tricking and setting off our Persons, and teaches us, that we should never think ourselves truly adorned, except when the virtuous and shining Qualities of the Mind render us agreeable and lovely in the Eyes of God and Man. These are the Jewels, these the Ornaments which would most effectually repair that Shame which all our outward Dresses were so industriously contrived to cover.  
As to that other Argument, which proceeds upon Cold, and some other things that render Apparel necessary, either to particular Persons of a Constitution more feeble, or to all that dwell under one Climate, sharper than the rest; we know full-well, that some go naked, and others dressed, in the very same Latitude, and the very same Air; and there is never a one of us but exposes the tenderest Part about him to all Wethers continually: Which gave occasion to that Reply of a sturdy Beggar, who when he was asked how he could endure to go naked in the midst of Frost and Snow, made only this Answer, That other People could bear their Faces naked, and he was Face all over. History tells us of several very great Persons who went constantly bareheaded, as Masinissa, and Caesar, and Hannibal, and Severas; And some Nations there are, who being accusiomed to no Defence for their Bodies at other times, never trouble themselves for any when they go into the Wars, but engage in the hottest Action, whole Armies of naked Men together. Plato thinks it adviseable for the Health never to cover either the Head or the Feet at all. Varro pretends, that when Men were commanded to stand bare in the Temple of the Gods, and in the Presence of the Magistrates; it was not only the Respectfulness of the Ceremony, but the Wholsomness of it, that the Law had regard to; since Men by this means hardened their Bodies against the Injuries of Wind and Wether, and strengthened themselves, while they paid a due Reverence to their Superiors.  
In a Word, abstracting from what Revelation hath taught us, and looking at Nature only, I should make no doubt but the Contrivances of Huts and Houses, and other Shelters against the Violence of the Seasons, and the Assaults of Men, was a much more ancient Institution than that of Clothing; and there seems to have been more of Nature, and universal Practice in it; for we see that Beasts and Birds do the same thing. The Care and Provision of Victuals was unquestionably of far greater Antiquity than either of the former, for this seems to have been one of the first Impulses and Dictates of Nature; the Necessities and Appetites whereof return so thick upon us, that it is not easy to suppose Man could subsist at all without this Care. 
Book III. In the Virtue of Temperance.  But of these Matters we shall have other Opportunities to treat more fully, when we come to give Rules for the Use and Regulation both of Food and Raiment, hereafter.   

CHAP. VII. Concerning the Soul in general.  
WE are now entering upon a Subject of all others the most difficult and nice; One which has been treated of, and particularly canvassed by the greatest Philosophers, and most penetrating Wits of all Ages and Countries: Egyptian, Greek, Arabian, and Latin Authors; but yet so that their Opinions have been infinitely various, according to the several Nations from whence they sprung, the Religions they embraced, the Professions in which they had been educated, and the Reasons that offered themselves to their Thoughts: So that how far soever each Man might satisfy his own Mind, yet they have never been able to come to any general good Agreement or certain Determination in the Matter. Now the main Points in Controversy upon this occasion, are those Ten that follow: What may be the Definition of the Soul; What its real Essence and Nature; Its Faculties and Actions; Whether there be One or More Souls in a Man; Whence its Original; What the Time and Manner of its entering the Body; the Manner of its Residence; the Seat where it dwells; the Sufficiency to exercise the several Functions belonging to it; and lastly, Its End or Separation from the Body.  
First of all: It is exceeding hard to give an accurate Definition of the Soul, 
It's Definition.  or be able to say exactly What it is. And this in truth is the Case of all Forms in general; and we cannot well conceive how it should be otherwise with Things which are Relative, and have no proper and independent Subsistence of their own, but are only Parts of some Whole. Hence without question it hath come to pass, that the Definitions of it put abroad have been so many, and at the same time so infinitely various too, that not any one of them hath been received without Clashing or Contradiction. Aristotle hath rejected no less than Twelve among the Philosophers who had written before him; and yet he hath found but little better success with That of his own, which he laboured (but in vain) to establish in the room of them.  
Nothing can indeed be more easy and obvious than to determine what the Soul is not. We dare be confident that it is not Fire, Air, nor Water, nor a Mixture and due Temperament of the Four Elements together, the Qualities or the Humours nicely adjusted: For This is a thing in perpetual Flux and Uncertainty; the Animal subsists and lives without it: And besides, This is manifestly an Accident, whereas the Soul is a Substance. To this we may add, that Minerals, and several inanimate Creatures, have a Temperament of the Four Elements, and prime Tactile Qualities, and still continue Inanimate notwithstanding. Nor can the Soul be the Blood; for several Instances may be given of Animated and Living Creatures, without any Blood at all belonging to them; and several Creatures die without losing one Drop of Blood. Nor is it the Principle and First Cause of Motion in us; for several Inanimate things impart Motion: So does the Loadstone to the Iron; the Amber to the Straw; Medicines, and Drugs, and Roots of Trees, when dried, and cut to pieces, draw and create very strong Motions. Nor is it the Act, Life, Energy, or Perfection, (for Aristotle's Term Eutclechia hath been interpreted in all these dissering Senses) For all this cannot be the very Essence of the Soul itself, but only the Operation and Effect of it, as Living, Seeing, and Understanding are plain and proper Actions of the Soul. Besides, admitting this Notion, it would follow from thence, that the Soul were not a Substance, but an Accident only, that it could not possibly subsist without that Body, whose Act and Perfection it is, any more than the Roof of a House can subsist as such, without the Building which it covers and is supported by, or a Relative without its Correlate. In a word, When we express ourselves after this manner, we only declare what the Soul does, and what it is with respect to something else; but we pronounce nothing of its proper and abstracted Nature, or what it is in itself.  
Now, though things are thus far clear and easy, yet when we go farther the Case altars extremely. A Man may say indeed, that the Soul is an Essential Life-giving Form, which distributes this Gift as the Receiver is capable of it. To the Plant it imparts Vegetation; to the Brute Sense, which includes and contains Vegetation under it; and to Man Intellectual Life, in which both the former are employed, as the Greater Numbers comprehend the Less; and as in Figures, a Pentagone includes a Quadrangle, and That again a Triangle. I rather choose to term this the Intellectual Life than the Rational, (which is comprised and understood by it, as the Less is within the Greater) and that particularly in deference to those many renowned Philosophers, who have allowed Reason in some Sense, and some Degree, even to the Brutes; but not Any of them have ever gone so high, as to attribute the Intelligent Faculty to Them; and therefore I take Intellectual Life to be a more unexceptionable, more distinguishing Character of the Humane Soul, than the other, which some have thought not entirely and peculiarly our own. The Soul in the mean while is not the Principle and Original of Life; (This, in my Judgement, is a Term due to none but the Sovereign Author of our Being, the Lord and Giver of Life) but it is the Internal Cause (if you please) of Life and Motion, of Sense and Understanding: It moves the Body, but is not moved itself; as on the contrary, the Body is moved, but moves not; I say it moves the Body, but it moves not itself; for though Self-Motion be in some sense a Character by which we express the Freedom of the Humane Will, yet, considering the depending State of a Creature, I rather forbear a Term which, in its strict and most exalted Sense, cannot, in my Apprehension, belong to any but God himself: For whatsoever moves itself thus, must be Absolute and Eternal; and that Power of moving the Body which the Soul hath, it hath not from itself, but from Above.  
The next Enquiry concerns the Essence or Nature of the Soul, 
It's Nature.  (the Humane one I mean; for as to That of Brutes, little doubt is to be made but this is Corporeal and Material, conceived, born, and bred with Matter, and corruptible with it too) and this is no such inconsiderable Dispute as some perhaps may imagine; for some have affirmed it to be Corporeal; others again contend as vehemently, that it is Incorporeal: Which Opinions we will beg the Reader's leave to compare a little, and how wide soever they may seem, we'll try if it be not possible to reconcile them. The Arguments which have persuaded Men to believe the Soul Corporeal, are such as follow. First, The Authority of the most Eminent Philosophers and Divines; and of the latter, no less than Tertullian, Origen, St. Basil, Gregory, Augustine, and Damascene, who all admit that the Spirits, both Good and Bad, which are entirely separated from Matter, are yet Corporeal; and if They be so who have nothing to do with Matter, how much more probable is this Notion of the Humane Soul, which is in constant Deal with, and closely united to it? The Ground of their determining these things to be Corporeal, is a Notion, that All Creatures of what kind soever, when compared with God, are Gross, Corporeal, and Material; and that God Himself alone is so excellent a Substance as to be Incorporeal; and therefore every Spirit is Body, and of a Corporeal Nature. To this of Authority may be added another Argument, drawn from Reason. All that is contained in this Finite World, must needs be Finite itself; limited in Virtue and in Essence; circumscribed by some Supersicies, consigned within some place; all which are the true and natural Conditions of a bodily Substance. God alone is every where; He alone is infinite, and therefore He alone is Incorporeal. The common Distinctions of a Circumscriptive, Definitive, Effective Presence, seem to be merely verbal, and to carry very little or no Force at all: For still it is undeniably certain, 
See Advertisements.  That Spirits are in a place after such a manner, that at the same time they are there, they are not elsewhere too, nor can be in more places than one at once. They are not in infinite Space, nor in extreme Little, nor extremely Large room, but take up so much as is proportionable to their Size, and equal to their Finite Substance. And, did not the Case stand thus with them, how could Spirits change their Place and Residence? how could they Ascend or Descend, which yet the Scripture frequently takes notice of their doing? For, if Incorporeal, they must be incapable of Motion, Indivisible, and so every where indisserently. Since then 'tis evident they change their places, is not this sufficient to convince us that they are capable of Motion and Division, subject to Time, and the Successions of it, which is requisite for the adjusting of Motion, and measuring the Passages and mutual Distances from one place to another? All which are Qualities belonging to a Body. But now, in regard that the generality of People, who see not to the bottom of these Distinctions, by the Word Corporeal, form to themselves an Idea of something Visible and Palpable, and so gross as must affect our Senses: Since they have no Notion of pure and subtle Air, nor entertain any Conception of Fire abstracted from Fuel and Flame; since, I say, they cannot persuade themselves that things so subtilised are Corporeal, hence it hath grown into Use, to say that Spirits in a State of Separation, and Humane Souls in the Body, are not Corporeal Substances: Nor are they so indeed in this gross and vulgar Sense; for they are of an Invisible Substance, whether that be Airy, as many Philosophers and Divines have persuaded themselves; or whether Celestial and yet more refined, as some Hebrew and Arabian Authors, who call Heaven and Spirit both by the same Name, of an Essence proper to Immortality; or whether it consist of a Substance still more subtle and purified than even the Aethereal or Celestial itself; but still Corporeal nevertheless, since subject to all those Conditions of a Body, of being consigned and circumscribed within a certain Space; capable of Motion, and measurable in that Motion, by the successive Periods of Time. Again, Were they not Corporeal, they must be impassable; for which way could they suffer as we find they do? The Soul of Man manifestly receives and is assected with Satisfaction and Uneasiness, Pleasure and Pain; and as deeply as sensibly touched with these things in her Turn, as the Body is from Her Dictates and Her Passions. Again, She is likewise wrought upon and distinguished by Good and Ill Qualities, Virtues and Vices, Affections and Inclinations of all sorts; All which are Accidents; and as such require some Bodily Substance for their Support and Subsistence. Lastly, All Souls, whether separated or united, evil Angels and Spirits, as well as Men, are obnoxious to Punishment and Torture: From whence it must follow, that they are Corporeal; For nothing can be in a Condition of enduring Torment, which is not so; and so the Subject of Accidents is one particular Property of a Bodily Substance.  
See Advertisement at the End of this Chapter; and also That at the Conclusion of the Tenth.  
Now the Soul abounds exceedingly in Faculties and Powers, as many almost as the Body hath Members. 
Its Faculties and Operations  Some of these she exerts in Plants; a greater number yet in Beasts; but vastly more in Mankind: Such as the Vital, Locomotive, Appetitive, Attractive, Collective; the Retentive, Concocting, Digestive, Nutritive; those of Growing, Sprouting, Hearing, Seeing, Tasting, Smelling, Speaking, Respiration, Generation, Cogitation, Reasoning, Contemplating, Assenting, Dissenting, Remembering, Judging: All which Faculties are by no means parts of the Soul; for at that rate we must admit the Soul to be capable of Division, and made up of nothing but Accidents and Properties; but they are the Natural Qualities and Powers of it. Upon these follow the Actions or Operations of the Soul, which must needs in order of Nature be after those Faculties that qualify it for the performance of them. And thus the great Dionysius, whose Doctrine in this particular is universally assented to, observes, That in Spiritual Creatures there are Three things to be considered; The Essence, the Faculty, and the Operation. By the Last of these, which is the Action, we are led to the Knowledge of the Faculty; and from the Faculty again we are carried on to the Essence. Now we must take notice by the way, that the Actions may be obstructed, suspended, or a final Stop, and absolute Cessation put to them, without any Prejudice at all being done by this means to the Soul, or its Faculties: As the Skill and Faculty of Painting shall remain entire in the Artist, tho' his Hands be tied up, or he be otherwise disabled from exerting that Skill. But, upon a Supposal that the Faculties themselves perish, the Soul must perish with them; as the Fire can be no longer Fire, if we suppose the Faculty of Warming to be taken away from it.  
The Nature and Essence of the Soul being thus in some measure explained, 
In Vaity.  there is another Enquiry which offers itself to our Consideration, and That indeed of very great Intricacy and Importance both, which is, Whether each Animal (but more especially each Man) have a Complication of several Souls, or but One only. Concerning which a multitude of Arguments have been offered on all Sides, and great variety of Opinions have grown; but they may, I think, be reduced to Three. Some of the Greek Philosophers, and almost all the Arabian, after Their Examples, have fancied that there is but One Immortal Soul, not only in each distinct Individual Person, but in all Mankind; and distributed throughout the whole Species in general. The Egyptians are in the other Extreme, and conceive that each Person hath several Souls totally and essentially distinct from one another. That every Brute hath Two of these, and every Man hath Three. Two of which (the Vegetative and Sensitive) are Mortal; and the Third (which is the Intellectual) Immortal. The Third Opinion lies between these Two, and as it is more moderate, so hath it likewise been more generally entertained than either of the Former; for most Nations seem to be agreed, that however Men may have been obliged to consider the several Faculties distinctly, yet there is in reality no actual Plurality, and but One Soul in each Person, which extends to all those Operations assigned to several.  
The First of these Opinions I shall say nothing to, thinking it too absurd, and too generally exploded, to stand in need of any particular Confutation.  
The Second, which asserts a Plurality of Souls in each Animal, and particularly in each Man, must be confessed on the one hand exceeding marvellous, if not altogether incredible and absurd; For what Philosophy will allow us in giving several Essential Forms to one and the same thing? But then, on the other hand, it must be acknowledged too, that this Notion makes the Way fair and smooth for that of the Intellectual Soul's being Immortal: Because upon a Supposition of Three distinct Souls, there is no great Difficulty or Inconvenience in admitting that Two of these may die, without at all impairing the Immortality of the Third; Whereas the Unity of the Soul seems to make War upon its Immortality: For which way can we conceive the same Thing to be Mortal in one part, and Immortal in another? which yet seems to have been Aristotle's Notion. Certainly there is an absolute necessity of concluding, that it is All of a piece in this respect, and either entirely Mortal or Immortal throughout; which yet are each of them loaded with very absurd Consequences: For the Former Conclusion is destructive of all Religion and sound Philosophy; and the Latter advances the Brutes to the same Dignity, the same Immortal State with ourselves. But the most general, and in my poor Judgement, the most probable Opinion is, that each Animal hath but One Soul; but One in Substance; That This is the Cause of Life, and the Universal Source of all the Actions performed by him; That though it have but One Essence entire and undivided, yet is it adorned, enriched, diversified with a vast number of Faculties and distinct Powers, wonderfully different, and some contrary to each other; according to the vast Variety of Instruments made use of by it, the Vessels in which they are contained, and the Objects they are employed about; Thus the Soul exercises what we call the Sensitive and Reasonable Faculties more peculiarly in the Brain; there being the Instruments adapted to such Operations: The Vital and Irascible in the Heart; the Natural and Vegetative, (which are sometimes distinguished by the Concupiscible) in the Liver: These are the Chief and most Material Distinctions. But these so many, and so different Operations, Instruments, and Faculties, no more impair the Unity of the Soul, or argue a Plurality of Causes, than a Multitude of Streams conclude against One Fountain or common Source; or the different Effects of the Sunbeams prove more Suns than One in the Universe: For thus we daily see he sheds his Rays, and shines upon different Places and Objects with very different Success: To One he administers Heat; to Another Light: The Wax he softens and melts; the Clay he dries and stiffens: He makes the Snow Whiter, and the Complexion Blacker: He scatters the Clouds, and contracts the standing Pools. And if all this be done by One Sun in the Firmament, what should hinder the Former to be effected by One Soul in the Body? Why should That be admitted for an Argument against the Essential Unity of the Cause in One of these Instances, which we ourselves are content to allow, and constant Experience makes it plain beyond all Contradiction, is of no weight at all in a Case so very parallel as This I have last mentioned.  
As to the other Difficulty, which relates to the Soul's Immortality, when the Matter is carefully considered, it will appear, that this Opinion of the Unity of the Humane Soul, does it no manner of Injury. For this Soul does not suffer in its proper Essence, by the Death of the Vegetative and Sensitive Faculties; by which Death in Reality is meant no more, than an Incapacity of exercising, and exerting those Powers in a State of Separation from the Body. Which must necessarily follow, upon the Want and Absence of the Proper Subject, and Instrument, to exercise them upon. But all this hinders not, but that the Third and most exalted, which is the Intellectual Faculty, may still exert itself; because a Body, though at present it be made use of as its Instrument, is not yet so necessary and essential to that, that it should not be able to subsist and act without it. Supposing then this Soul to return to the Body a second time, it would return at the same time to the Exercise of its Vegetative and Sensitive Powers, as we see plainly by Instances of Persons, who have been raised from the Dead, to live here below: But this would not infer a Necessity of the same things for living in another State. For those Faculties, whose Exercise supports this Life we now lead, are not thereby proved of such Consequence, that no other kind of Life could be supported or enjoyed without them. It is in this Case with the Soul, as with the Sun (for the same Instance will be of Use to illustrate our Argument in this Branch also) which continues the same in himself, every whit as entire and unblemished, not in any Degree enfeebled, though his Lustre and Vital Influences be sometimes intercepted and obstructed. When his Face is covered with a Total Eclipse, we lose the cheerful Light and cherishing Heat; but though no sensible Effects of him appear, yet he is in his own Nature, the same Powerful Principle, and Glorious Creature still.  
Having thus (as I hope sufficiently) evidenced the Unity of the Soul, 
It's Origine  in each Individual animated by it: let us in the next Place proceed to observe from whence it is derived, and how it makes its Entry into the Body.  
Concerning the Former of these Particulars, great Disputes have been maintained, by Philosophers and Divines of all Ages. Concerning the Origine of the Humane and Intellectual Soul, I mean; for as to the Vegetative and Sensitive attributed to Plants and Beasts, those by general Consent have been esteemed to consist entirely of Matter, to be transferred with the Seminal Principles, and accordingly subject to Corruption and Death. So that the whole Controversy turns upon the single Point of the Humane Soul; and concerning this, the Four most Celebrated Opinions have been these which follow. I omit the Mention of any more, which are almost lost in the Crowd, because These have obtained so much more generally, and gained greater Credit than the Rest.  
The First of these is that Notion of the Stoics, embraced by Philo the Jew, and after Him, by the Manichees, Priscillianists, and others. This maintains Reasonable Souls to be so many Extracts, and genuine Productions of the Divine Spirit; Partakers of the very same Nature and Substance with Almighty God himself; who being said expressly to have breathed it into the Body; these Persons have taken the Advantage of Moses' Words, and fixed the sublimest Sense imaginable upon them. He Breathed into him the Breath of Life; by which they are not content to understand, that the Soul of Man is a distinct Thing, and of a different, and more exalted Original than the Body; a Spirit of greater Excellence than that which quickens any other Animal, but they stretch it to a Communication of God's own Essence.  
The Second was derived from Aristotle, received by Tertullian, Apollinaris, the Sect of the Luciferians, and some other Christians; and This asserts the Soul to be derived from our Parents, as the Body is; and in the same Manner, and from the same Principles with that, whence the Soul of Brutes, and all that are confined to Sense and Vegetation only, are generally believed to spring.  
The Third is that of the Pythagoreans and Platonists; entertained by most of the Rabbinical Philosophers and Jewish Doctors; and after them by Origen, and some other Christian Doctors too; Which pretends that all Souls were created by God at the beginning of the World; that they were then by Him commanded, and made out of Nothing; that they are reserved and deposited in some of the Heavenly Regions; and afterwards, as his Infinite Wisdom sees Occasion, sent down hither into Bodies ready fitted for, and disposed to entertain them. Upon this Opinion was built another, of Souls being well or ill dealt with here below, and lodged in sound and healthful, or else in feeble and sickly Bodies, according to their Good or Ill Behaviour in a State and Region above, antecedent to their being thus Incorporated with these Mortal and Fleshly Tabernacles. How generally this Notion prevailed, we have a notable Hint from that great Master of Wisdom, who gives this Account of his large improvements, 
Wisd. VIII. 19, 20.  above the common Rate of Men, I was a Witty Child, and had a good Spirit; yea, rather being Good, I came into a Body undefiled. Thus intimating a Priority of Time, as well as of Order and Dignity in the Soul, and that its good Dispositions qualified it for a Body so disposed too.  
The Fourth, which hath met with the most general Approbation, among Christians Especially, holds that the Soul is created by God, infused into a Body prepared duly for its Reception: That it hath no Pre-existence in any separate State, or former Vehicle, but that its Creation and Infusion are both of the same Date.  
These Four Opinions, are all of them Affirmative. There is yet a Fifth, more modest and reserved than any of the former. This undertakes not to determine Positively one way or other; but is content Ingenuously to confess its own Ignorance and Uncertainty: declares this a Matter of very abstruse Speculation, a dark and deep Mystery, which God hath not thought fit particularly to reveal; and which Man by the Strength, and Penetration of his own Reason, can know but very little or nothing of. Of this Opinion we find St. Augustine, St. Gregory of Nice, and some others. But though they presume not so far, as to give any definitive Sentence, on any Side; yet they plainly incline to think, that, of the Four Opinions here mentioned; the Two latter carry a greater Appearance of Truth, than the Two former.  
But how, 
The Entrance into the Body.  and when this Humane Soul (for of the Brutal there is little or no Dispute, nor is the present Enquiry concerned in it) Whether This, I say, make its Entrance all at once, or whether the Approaches are gradual and slow; Whether it attain its just Essential Perfections in an Instant; or whether it grow up to them, by Time and Succession; is another very great Question. The More general Opinion, which seems to have come from Aristotle, is, That the Vegetative and Sensitive Soul, whose Essence is no other than Matter and Body, is in the Principles of Generation; that it descends lineally, and is derived to us from the Substance of our Parents; that This is finished and Perfected in Time and by Degrees, and Nature acts in this Case a little like Art, when That undertakes to form the Image of a Man; where first the Out-Lines and rude Sketches are drawn; then the Features specified; yet These, not of his whole Body at once, but first the Painter finishes the Head, than the Neck, after that the Breast, the Legs and so on, till he have drawn the whole Length. Thus the Vegetative and Sensitive Soul (they tell you) forms the Body in the Womb: and when That is finished, and made fit for the Reception of its new Inhabitant, the Intellectual Soul comes from abroad, and takes Possession of its Dwelling. But that (all this notwithstanding) They are not Two, nor Three distinct Souls, neither together, nor in Succession. That the Vegetative suffers no Diminution by the Accession of the Sensitive; nor that again by the Addition of the Intelligent Mind. But all Those coalesce into One, and are formed and finished, according to the stated Times, and usual Process of Nature.  
Others rather incline to believe, that the Soul enters the Body entire, and takes Possession with her Faculties of every kind at the same Instant: That This is done, when all the Organs of the Body are framed, and the whole Shell finished and compacted: that till Then, the Body is only a senseless dead Mass, without any Soul at all: that it had only a Virtue or Natural Energy, (The Essential Form of that Matter out of which it is made) and this acting upon the Spirituous Parts, does, by the Agitation and Ferment These are put into, form and build the whole Body, and adjust every Part of this Structure duly. When things are brought to this Head, than that Energy vanishes, and is quite lost, and the Soul succeeds into its Place. And when this New, this Noble Guest arrives, all things change their Form; and That, which before was nothing but Dead Senseless Matter, exalts its Name and Nature, and from thenceforth commences Man.  
When it hath actually entered the Body, we shall do well to know after what Manner it exists, 
It's Residence and the manner of it.  and dwells in it. Some Philosophers, whose Notions of this Matter seem to have been much perlexed, and at a mighty Loss, how to make out any tolerable Conjunction between these Two, have imagined the Soul to reside in the Body, like a Master in his House, or the Pilot in a Ship. But though, as to the Governing and Directing Part, the Comparison be not much amiss; yet when applied to explain the particular Mode of its Existence, it is absolutely improper, and stark naught. For at this rate the Soul would not be the Form, the Internal or Essential Part of the Animal or the Man: It would have no Occasion for the Members of this Body to give it reception; would not be affected in any kind from this close Affinity, nor have any of those tender and mutual Resentments and Sufferings, arising from Bodily Pains and Pleasures; but would be a Substance entirely distinct: subsisting from and by itself; at its own disposal to go or come to separate from the Body, without making any Difference in it; or any way taking from its own Functions, or the Exercise of them. All which are intolerable and most notorious Absurdities. The Soul then in the Body, is like Form in Matter, dispersed and extended over every Part of it: Giving Life, Motion, and Sense, all thorough; and both These taken together, make one Person or Hypostasis; that is, one entire Subject, which we call an Animal. Nor are we to be Solicitous for the finding out any intermediate Quality, which should connect these Two; for there is no such thing in Nature. All Philosophers consenting in This, That there can nothing come between Matter and Form, no Common Link or Band more intimate for them. The Soul than is all in all the Body; but as for what is commonly added, of its being all in every Part too, I forbear the Expression; because, in my Apprehension, it divides the Soul, and implies a Contradiction.  
Now, 
The Seat of the Soul.  although the Soul (in Agreement to what we have but just now asserted) be really communicated and diffused, through the whole Body in general; yet it must be acknowledged, that she is more Eminently present and powerful, in some Parts than others. Where, for the Sake of a clearer and more visible Exercise of her Respective Faculties, she may be said to keep her Residence, or have her Seat; though not to Be Entirely there; because This would import Confinement; and the other Parts, upon the Account of her Absence, would be left void of all Soul and Form. In regard therefore that the Soul is Remarkable for the Exercise of Four Predominant Faculties above the Rest; Four Principal Places of Action and Residence have accordingly been assigned to her. Now these are the Four distinct Apartments or Work-Houses, taken Notice of formerly, when we had occasion to treat of the Fabric and Contexture of the Humane Body. These are the most Important and Prime Instruments of the Soul; the Rest are subordinate too, and reducible under them, as the other Faculties are likewise to those exercised in these Parts. Namely, the Continuation of the Species in the lowest Region: The Natural or Nutritive Faculty in the Liver: The Vital in the Heart; and the Animal and Intellectual in the Brain.  
The next Advance to be made upon this Subject, 
It's Sufficiency.  concerns the Exercise of these Faculties in general, and how the Soul is qualified for this Purpose. Now we shall do well to take Notice that the very Nature and Form of every living Creature, cosisting in This Soul, it cannot be, but the Soul must be abundantly provided with necessary Knowledge, and understand its Business, without Pains or Industry, or the slow and laborious Methods of acquired Instruction. As certain is it too, that what she is thus instructed in by Nature, she fails not to exert, and punctually to fulfil, as Need requires. Provided no Accidental Obstruction prevent or interrupt her, and that the Instrument she is obliged to make Use of, be rightly disposed to follow her Directions. The Philosophers therefore were much in the Right, when they styled Nature a Wise, Skilful, and Industrious School-Mistress: One that qualifies her Children and Scholars for all that is required from them. 
* Insita sunt nobis omnium artium ac virtutum Semina. Magisterque ex occulto Deus producit Ingenia.  The Seeds of all Art and Virtue (says one of them) are implanted in us Originally; and Almighty God, the Great Master, brings forward our Natural Abilities, and draws them forth into Action. It were easy to prove this, by pregnant Instances of every Kind. The Vegetative Soul of its own Accord, without Artifice or Institution, forms the Embryo in the Womb, so curiously, so conveniently, so wonderfully, that we can never sufficiently express, and extol the Excellence of this Skill. Afterwards it takes equal Care of the Nourishment and Growth; conveys, seeks, and receives Sustenance; Retains what is eaten; digests and lives upon it; throws off the Superfluous and Excremental Parts; Refreshes, recruits, repairs those Parts which sink or faint, or fall to decay. And These are all of them Operations Manifest and Constant, not in Men only, but in Brutes and Plants also.  
The Sensitive Soul in like manner, of her own Accord puts Men and Brutes upon all necessary Actions. Such as Moving their Feet, their Hands, and Other Limbs and Parts, which may be of use to them, to scratch, to rub, to shake themselves, to suck, to manage their Lips and Mouth, to cry, to laugh, and other Expressions of Want, and Grief, and Pleasure.  
The Reasonable and Intellectual Soul does the very same thing in Its Capacity: And Thus it acts not by virtue of any Reminiscence, or Recollection of any Knowledge it had before with this Union with the Body, as Plato fond imagined; a Notion which proceeds upon the supposal of another State, in which the Soul pre-existed before its Entrance into, or the Formation of this Body; Nor does it own this Power to Knowledge received in at the Senses, and acquired by Their means upon Use and Observation, as Aristotle conceives, who represents the Soul at the Birth, to be a Perfect Blank, utterly void of all Characters or Images, but ready to receive Impressions of any kind: But it seems rather to discharge this Office by the Original Strength of its own Native Powers: It Imagines, Understands, Retains, Argues, Reasons, Concludes of itself, without any Instruction or additional Helps at all. This Assertion, I must own, seems more difficult to comprehend than the Former; and we can more readily assent to such a Native Aptitude in the Vegetative and Sensitive, than we do in the Intellectual Soul. It is manifest too, that Aristotle's Authority lies in some Degree against the Thing: And therefore to satisfy all these Difficulties, I will allow this Matter a more particular Consideration, when we come to discourse of the Intellectual Soul distinctly.  
There remains yet one Point more concerning the Soul to be enquired into, 
It's Separation Twofold Natural  which relates to its Separation from the Body: Now This may happen different ways, and be of sundry kinds. The only Usual and Natural Separation is by Death. Only herein is a mighty difference between Other Animals and Mankind, that when the Rest die, their Soul dies too; agreeably to that Rule in Philosophy, That when the Subject-Matter is corrupted, the Form is perfectly lost, though the Matter still remain. Whereas the Soul of Man is indeed separated from his Body by Death, but by no means lost or annihilated: So far from Perishing, that it remains entire and unhurt, as having the Privilege of an Immortal and Incorruptible Nature.  
There is not in the World any One Opinion which hath been more universally entertained, more eagerly embraced, more plausibly defended, more religiously stuck to (I may well say Religiously, since this Doctrine is in truth the very Foundation of all Religion) than That which asserts the Immortality of the Soul. All this now is meant of an External and Public Profession; for, alas! it is but too manifest and too melancholy a Truth; (and the prodigious numbers of dissolute Epicures, abandoned Libertines, and profane Scoffers at God and a Future State, bear Testimony to it;) That what Pretence soever the Generality of the World may make of receiving this Doctrine in Words and Speculation, there are but very few who express an inward Sense, and serious Belief of it, by living like Men that believe it indeed. Of that practical Assent, I shall take occasion to speak more largely hereafter. In the mean while, give me leave to lament, that so little and so poor Effects appear, of an Opinion capable of producing so many and so noble: For certainly there is not any one Point whatsoever, the Persuasion whereof can bring greater Benefit, or have a stronger Influence upon Mankind. It may be objected, I confess, that all the Arguments which Humane Discourse, and mere Natural Reason endeavour to establish it by, cannot amount to a Demonstration. But it must be confessed, that there are several other things, which Men are content to yield their Credit to, upon far more weak and insufficient Suggestions. And whereinsover Reason falls short, it is abundantly supplied by Revelation; which as it is the Best, so is it the Proper Evidence in Matters of this kind. But yet to show the Importance of this Doctrine, even Nature herself hath implanted in all Mankind a strong Inclination to think it true: For it is natural for us to desire the legthening out, nay the perpetuating our own Existence. And no Reflection is more uneasy, than That which attempts to persuade us that we must once cease to be. This Disposition is interwoven with our very Frame; and hath given Birth to another no less general than itself, which is That anxious Care, and impatient Regard for Posterity, that takes such fast hold on every Man of us.  
Nor would I be so far misunderstood, as to have it thought, that this Disposition of Mind is the only Humane Foundation upon which our Belief of the Soul's Immortality stands: For there are Two other Moral Arguments in particular, which give it great Credit, and, to say the very lest of the Case, render it exceeding probable.  
The First is, that Hope of Glory and Reputation, and the tender Care of preserving a Good Name when we are gone; nay, the Thought and Endeavour that our Fame should be Immortal. Now though I cannot but condemn this solicitude of Vanity, when Men pretend to place their Happiness in the Opinions of other People after themselves are dead; yet the marvellous Regard, and universal Concern Mankind express for it, seems to say, that Nature inspires those Desires and Expectations. And Nature, we know, is a Wise Agent, and does not use to cheat Men with Hopes, which are altogether impossible and vain.  
Another Reason, not easy to be got over by Them who oppose this Doctrine, is, That common Impression that Those Crimes which are committed in secret, or which otherwise escape the Observation and Punishment of Civil Justice, and the Vengeance of Man, are still reserved to a farther Reckoning; that Almighty God supplies the Defects of Temporal Judicatures, and hath a severe Judgement in store for such Offenders as Those cannot extend to. And since we find by frequent Instances, that many Enormities of this kind are not made the Marks of the Divine Vengeance in The Present World; it is a good Consequence of all the Ideas we can reasonably entertain of God, that He should pursue the Guilty Wretches into another World, and chastise them as they deserve, even after Death. And now I would be glad to know, what greater Moral Assurance can be expected for a Subject of this kind, than, that Humane Nature disposes every Man to look forward to it, to desire, and to think it probable; and that the Consideration of the Divine Justice, represents it as a thing not only greatly probable, but absolutely necessary.  
This last Reflection will lead us to the Discovery of Three different Kind's and Degrees of Souls; all which become proper Objects of the Divine Justice: Nor need we credit it upon that Account only, but even Natural Reason, the Order and Harmony of the Universe will persuade us, that such a sort of Being, and so Immortal as we have been describing the Humane Soul, is requisite to make the Series of the Creation Beautiful and Complete. Of these Three sorts we may observe that Two are in Extremes: The One consisting of such Souls as are gross; sunk down, immersed in, inseparable from, and compounded of mere Matter: Such are the Souls of Brutes. The Other quite contrary, such as have no manner of Communication with Matter and Body, as Angels, and Immortal Spirits, whether Good or Bad. In the midst, and between these two, is the Humane Soul; and this is neither entirely and necessarily confined and fastened to Matter, nor entirely separated from it, but joined and wedded to it in this present State; yet so, that its Divorce is not its Destruction, but it can subsist and live without Matter in Another State.  
Such an Order and Distinction as This, is no despicable Argument for the Immortality of the Soul, since otherwise we must suppose a wide Gap, a vast Defect, and foul Deformity in Nature, such as carries Absurdity in itself, casts a Reflection upon its Author, and threatens Ruin to the World. Which is supported by nothing more than by the Gradual and Contiguous Order and Succession of the Creatures: And therefore between Distances so wide as altogether Corruptible, and absolutely Incorruptible, Nature requires some middle Condition of a Substance, partly the One, and partly the Other. Such a Link as this is necessary to tie the two Ends of this Chain together; and such a Link can be no other Creature than Man: For if we carry our Thoughts farther, we shall find that Other Being's are without the Compass of this Length, and so there are Five Stages of Being's in all. One below the meanest, and even those Souls which are said to consist entirely of Matter, such as Stones, which we cannot say have any Soul at all. Another far above even the most exalted, the most pure, and immortal Souls; which is the Ever-Blessed and Eternal Spirit, the Great and Only God.  
But besides the Separation of the Soul already treated of, 
Separation Unnatural.  there is Another Unnatural and Uncommon One; and this happens by Fits and Starts, is out of the way, and consequently very intricate, and hard to give ourselves any tolerable Account of: Such I mean as comes upon Men in Ecstasies and Raptures, which, as they differ very much in their Symptoms and Circumstances, so do they likewise in their Causes and Occasions. Of these some are Divine Ecstasies, wrought by the express and immediate Operation of God: Such are those Trances which the Scripture takes notice of, in Araham, Daniel, Ezechiel, Zacharias, St. Peter, and St. Paul. Others are Daemoniacal, procured by the Interposition of Good or Evil Spirits, many whereof are mentioned in Story: And we are told of John Duns-Scotus in particular, that having lain a long time in a Trance, and being taken for dead, he was carried to be buried, and put into his Grave; but being roused with the Blows and Bruises of the Mould thrown upon him, he came to himself, and was taken up again; and in a few Days after died in good earnest, with the loss of Blood, and the Bruises he had received upon his Head. Cardan mentions somewhat of this Nature, with which both Himself and his Father were possessed. And many Creditable Authentic Relations have been made from several distant parts of the World, of abundance of People, most of them of the Vulgar sort, too weak and ignorant to contrive such Stories; and of Women possessed, whose Bodies have not only continued long without any Sense, or Motion, or Pulse, but have been cut, bruised, , without ever seeing it, and afterwards when they came to themselves, they have complained of intolerable Torture, and exquisite Pain, and have given very strange Accounts of what they have seen and done in places a great way off.  
A Third Separation there is, which we may call Humane, because proceeding from Humane Means, and such as no Superior or Invisible Power seems to be concerned in: This comes either from that Disease which from Hippoerates is called Morbus Sacer, but commonly known by the Name of the Falling-Sickness, (attended with Foaming at the Mouth, which are looked upon as the Mark and Character of it, and distinguish this Distemper from Possessions, in which the Patients are said to have none of these Frothing, but a very noisome Stench in the room of them:) Or this Separation may be owing to the Force of Stupifying and Sleeping Medicines: Or to the Strength of Imagination, which being vehemently intent upon some One thing, perfectly carries away the Soul, and renders it stupid and insensible to all other Objects besides.  
Now in these Three kinds of Ecstasy and Transport, whether Divine, Daemoniacal, or Humane, the great Doubt arising is, Whether the Soul be really and truly separated from the Body; or whether, without any such Separation, it still continue there, but be so entirely taken up with some External Object, as perfectly to forget the Body belonging to it: So that its Natural Operations, and the Exercise of its proper Offices and Vocation, are, during that time, suspended, and wholly superseded.  
As to Divine Ecstasies; The Apostle speaking of Himself, and what happened in his own Case, 
2 Cor. 11.  will not presume to define any thing: * Whether in the Body, or out of the Body I cannot tell, (says he) God knoweth. And this Caution of His, is methinks a good Warning to all other People, that They too should be modest and reserved, and not rash in determining any thing positively, not only in These, but even in less Abstractions of the Mind.  
As to the Second Case, That of Demoniacs, Their having no sense of great Blows, and exquisite Tortures, and reporting things transacted at Two or Three Hundred Leagues distance; these, I confess are great Conjectures, and very violent Presumptions of an actual Separation; but yet, I think, they are not conclusive and necessary Arguments for it: For the Devils may amuse the Soul, and keep it so fully employed even when at home, that it shall have no Commerce or Communication with the Body for some considerable time; and at the very same time too he may represent to the Imagination what passes at a great distance, in so lively and clear a manner, as to fool the Man with a Persuasion, that he hath really been there, and seen those very things which the Images thus strongly imprinted upon his Fancy, have enabled him so particularly to relate. How far the Activity of Evil or Good Spirits extends, is not possible for us to say. But it is a very bold Assertion, and what Nature will very hardly endure, that the Whole Soul, formally taken, goes out, and abandons the Body; for upon these Terms the Body must die to all Intents and Purposes: And such men's coming to themselves again, would not be a Recovery of their Senses, but a Resurrection from the Dead. And yet to say, That the Soul does not All go, but the Imaginative and Intellectual Faculties rove abode, while the Vegetative stay behind and keep House, is still more Monstrous and Absurd: For at this rate, the Soul, which is entire, and One in her Essence, would be divided; or else we must suppose the Accident only to be transported and born away, and the Substance to remain fixed in its proper place; and therefore we have reason to admit any other Solution of the Case, rather than that of an Actual Separation.  
As to the Third and Last sort, which was termed Humane, the Thing is clear beyond a Doubt, that there is no real Separation in it, since all that can be pretended to in this Case, amounts to no more than some present Stupefaction and Disorder, by means whereof such of the Soul's Operations as are Visible and External, cease in appearance, and are suspended for some time.  
What becomes of this Soul, and in what State or Condition she continues after that Real and Natural Separation made by Death, Wise Men have not been able to agree; nor does this Point fall properly within the Compass and Design of the present Treatise. The Transmigration of Souls, advanced by Pythagoras, hath found (in some parts of the Notion especially) tolerable good acceptance with the Stoics, the Academics, the Egyptian Philosophers, and some others. Not that they all admitted it in the same Sense and Extent, or to all the Purposes he intended it should serve: Some allowed it only so far as it might contribute to the Punishment of Wicked Men, who might suffer by being turned into Brutes, in a manner like that miraculous Infliction upon Nabuchadnezzar, 
Dan. iv.  as a Scourge from God for his Vanity and Atheistical Pride. Some again, and those of considerable Eminence and Authority, have imagined, that Pure and Pious Souls, upon their quitting this Body, are translated into Angels; and the Black and Guilty ones transformed into Fiends and Devils. Methinks it were more prudent to soften the former Branch of this Notion, as our Blessed Saviour hath done already, by saying, 
Luke xx.  That they neither marry nor die any more, but are as the Angels, and are the Children of God. Some again have fancied, that the Souls of the wickedest and most profligate Wretches, after a very long Term of Time and Punishment, utterly perish, and are reduced to their First Nothing. But Humane Reason is, and must needs be for ever, in the Dark about all such Matters. And therefore these Disquisitions should be constantly referred to their proper Topick of Instruction: For, as nothing but Revelation and Religion can inform us truly in what concerns a Future State, so they have not been wanting to declare what is full and sufficient for our purpose, and therefore it is our Duty, as well as our Wisdom, to receive this without more ado, and steadfastly to rest in it.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
IN the Second Particular which concerns the Essence and Nature of the Soul, the Author makes a very odd Distinction between Matter and Body, and tries to reconcile the Opinion of Those who say the Soul is Immaterial, with Theirs who affirm it to be Corporeal. The Result of which is, That the Souls of Men do not consist of gross and palpable Matter, but of a Body thin and subtle, even beyond all Imagination: And therefore in the Sequel of this Discourse, he continues to make a Difference between the Souls of Men and those of Brutes, even in this very Point of Materiality itself.  
But now, Since Body and Matter, strictly and Philosophically taken, come all to one; and since No Subtlety, or Fineness of Composition makes any Body the less a Material Substance; Since again the Humane and Intellectual Soul hath evidently several Faculties, and performs several Operations, (such as Cogitation, Volition, nay even Sensation itself) which are neither inherent Qualities of Matter, as such; nor what any Motion or Modification whatsoever, can render it capable of; Monsieur Charron's Subtlety of the Body will not help the Cause at all: For Aethereal, or Celestial Bodies are as truly Matter as any of the Coursest and Grossest whatsoever. And the Notion of Matter is not to be taken from its Purity or Foeculency, its Palpability or its Fineness; but from its Essential Properties, such as Extension, and quantity, Divisibility, Being purely Passive, and Acting only as it is acted upon; It's being subject to the Laws of Motion; and the like: These now are the inseparable Properties of every thing that is Body; and from hence it must needs follow, that all Bodies whatsoever are equally distant from, equally unqualifyed for Thought, and Perception, and all other Operations and Faculties, which are the proper and distinguishing Characters of a Reasonable Soul. Concerning which, if my Reader desire farther Satisfaction than the Nature of a single Advertisement allows me room for, I refer him to Dr. Bentley's Second Sermon against Atheism, where he will find this Argument handled at large.  
When once such an Absurdity as This hath been shown to attend that Notion which maintains the Soul's Corporeity; it is to very little Purpose to urge us with the Difficulties concerning the mutual Intercourse of our Souls and Bodies; or what the Soul suffers either in her united, or in her separate State: Some of which are capable of the same Resolutions with those given in the Case of Brutes, (by those Philosophers who allow them Sense:) and are not the Actions or Affections of the Intelligent, but of the Sensitive Powers: And for Others, which are superior to Humane Discourse, we acknowledge our Ignorance, and resolve all into the sole Will, and wonderful Wisdom of our Almighty Creator. He hath not told us what is the Band of Union between these Two; nor how this Communication and intimate Correspondence is kept up, and carried on: And we think it is impossible for any to acquaint us with this Process, except Him only, who contrived and constituted it. But Ten Thousand such Objections weigh little, when balanced against a Flaw in the very Foundation: Every thing at this rate may be disputed, and Universal Scepticism be advanced, for we are able to trace nothing through all its Motions and Operations. But an Argument ab Absurdo, made evident in the First and most substantial Principles, is allowed, even in that Science, which professes the greatest accuracy in Arguing, to be a Just and Legitimate Demonstration against any thing, which such Principles are alleged to establish.  
See more concerning the Immateriality of the Soul, and her Operations, in the Advertisement at the End of the Tenth Chapter.    

CHAP. VIII. Of the Soul in Particular; and First, of the Vegetative Faculty.  
HAving thus given a General Description of the Soul in the Ten Points already insisted on, I come in the next Place to treat of it somewhat more distinctly; by considering its respective Principal Faculties apart. And the most convenient Order, as I apprehend, will be to begin with the Lowest first, and so proceed from the Vegetative to the Sensitive, from thence to that of Imagination and Appetite, and last of all to the Intellectual, which is the Supreme of all the Faculties, and that which is the true and peculiar Character of the Humane Soul. Under each of These, there are several subordinate Powers, of less Note and Figure, which hold, as Branches of, or Deputies under those, and will fall in naturally to be mentioned, in the Profecution of that Method I have here proposed.  
As for That, which concerns Vegetation, it is the meanest by much, and given us in common with the very Plants. I shall therefore say but very little of it, not only because the subject is not of Dignity enough to bear me out in long Enlargements; but also because this is more properly the Business of Physicians, whose Profession leads to the Study of Health and Sickness, the Preservatives of the One, and the Remedies against the Other. I shall only call upon my Reader at present to observe, that under this Faculty, there are Three Great and very Important Subalterns concerned, and each of them subsequent and assisting to each other in a regular Progression. For the First promotes the Second, and the Second the Third: but not so, as that the Order can be inverted, and the Remark hold back again.  
The First of these is the Nutritive; Instituted for the Preservation of the Individual; and under This there are several Assistants, such as the Attractive or seeking of Necessary Sustenance; that of Concoction and Digestion, which separates the good and useful Parts, from those which are noxious and naughty: The Retentive for what is necessary, and the Expulsive, to throw off what is offensive or superfluous.  
The Second is that of Growing, which tends to the Perfection of the Individual, and giving it all its just Proportions.  
The Third is the Generative; for the Continuance and Succession of the Species.  
From hence now it is plain, that the Two former of these were instituted by Nature, for the Sake and Benefit of the Individual; and terminate in the Advantage of one single Person, and his own Body. The Third extends to the Species in general, and its Effects do not, cannot centre in the Person himself; and therefore This, as more Extensive and Beneficial, is esteemed superior in Dignity, to the other Two; and advancing nearer to That Faculty next above it, which is the Sensitive. For Producing one's own Likeness, is a very Eminent Perfection in Nature, and gives us the Honour of some distant Resemblances, even to the Great Creator himself.   

CHAP. IX. Of the Sensitive Faculty.  
THE Exercise of this Faculty, or the Operations of Sense, require the Concurrence of no less than Six several things; Four within, and Two without the Body. And they are These which follow. 

I. The First, is the Soul: This is the Prime Efficient Cause of Perception.  
II. The Second is the Faculty of Sensation, (which I distinguish here from the Former, having already proved, that it is only a Quality of the Soul, and not the very Essence, or Soul itself.) This consists in the Perception, and Apprehending of External Objects: Which may be done Five several Ways; for which Reason, we are commonly said to have Five Senses. Concerning that Number I shall say something in the next Chapter; in the mean while my Reader need scarce be told that these Senses are called, Hearing, Seeing, Smelling, Tasting, and Feeling.  
III. The Third thing necessary is the Bodily Instrument, or Organ of Sense; and these are proportionably Five too: The Eye for Sight; The Ear for Hearing; The Cavity at the Top of the Nose (which goes into the first Ventricle of the Brain) for smelling: The Tongue for Tasting, and the Skin all over the Body for that of the Touch, or Feeling.  
iv The Fourth Requisite is that Animal Spirit, derived from the Brain, (which is the Origine and Seat of the Sensitive Soul) and conveyed through the Nerves, to these several Organs: by the Motion and Mediation of which Spirit, and Organ, the Soul exercises her Faculty.  
V The Fifth is, what the Philosophers were used to call the Species Sensibilis, which is in plain English, the Object which moves, and affects, or is propounded to the Organ: and This is of a different kind, according to the different Sense excited, or applied to by it. That of Sight, or the Eye (according to the commonly received Opinion,) is Colour; A Quality or Accident inherent in the Body coloured. Six of these are Styled Simple Colours, as White, Yellow, Red, Purple, Green, and Blue: To which some add Black, and call them Seven. But, strictly speaking, Black is not any Colour, but only a Privation of Light, resembling Darkness; as other Colours do more or less resemble Light: The Number of Compounded Colours is infinite. And indeed if we go to the Philosophical Nicety of the Thing, there is no Colour at all in any Body, whatsoever; for This is nothing else in Truth but the various Representation, which Light differently modified makes upon our Senses. For when the Light is gone, all Colour is gone with it, and as this never appears without some Colour, so it never disappears, so as to leave Colour behind.    
Now Light is a Quality proceeding from a Luminous Body, which creates in us a Perception and Sight of itself, and of all things else within our View. When this terminates upon, and is stopped by any solid Body, it rebounds back again, and doubles its Rays by Reflection: But if it peetrate the Body, and find farther Passage, it cannot be seen except only in its first Source, the Luminous Body from whence it was shed originally; nor does it then do us any Service in showing other Objects.  
The Object of Hearing is Sound; by which we are to understand that Noise which results from the mutual Collision of two Bodies; and this is very various: For some Sounds are sweet and melodious, they soothe and charm the Soul, calm the Passions, compose the Humours of the Body, and chase away the Disorders of the whole Man. Others again are smart and piercing, strike through the very Soul, wound and disturb our Faculties with an ungrateful Harshness. But of all our Senses, the Mind seems to be most under the Power of This; none entertains it with greater Variety; none takes more absolute Possession of it.  
The Object of Taste is what we call Savour or Relishes; of which the Simple are Sweet, Bitter, Sour, Sharp, Salt, Acid: But of the Compounds there is no Number; they are made so exquisite, and multiplied so industriously.  
That of Smelling is Flavour; which is a sort of Vapour arising from the Odoriferous Object, and ascending through the Nose into the first and most prominent Ventricles of the Brain. Such Perfumes as are very strong, commit a sort of Violence upon the Brain, and are prejudicial or offensive to it: But those that are agreeable and moderate, minister wonderful Comfort and Refreshment, and both delight and do good to the Head.  
The Objects of Feeling are such as usually are termed the Tactile Qualities, Hot, Cold, Moist, Dry; to which we may add Soft and Sharp, Rough and Smooth, Motion and Rest, Tickling, etc.  
VI The Last thing which must concur in Sensation, is the Medium, or Space betwixt the Object and the Organ; and this, to render the Operation what it ought to be, is the Air, not in any wise changed or corrupted, but free, and in its Natural Purity and Disposition.  
From hence we may gather, That the Act of Sensation is performed, when the Object, or sensible Species presents itself by the help of a Medium disposed to convey this Representation to the proper Organ sitted to receive it; and that the Animal Spirits lodged there do accordingly take the Impression, and apprehend the thing: So that here is Action and Passion both; and the Senses are not purely Passive; for, notwithstanding that they receive an Impression, and in that respect are acted upon, yet do they likewise act in some Degree themselves, so far as they perceive the Image, and apprehend the Object propounded to them.  
See the Advertisement at the End of the next Chapter.  
The old Philosophy before Aristotle's Time, made a very remarkable Difference between the Sight and the rest of the Senses: Supposing This to be merely Active, and imagining, that, whereas the Others received the Object and Impression from without, and so could only be Passive; The Eye quite contrary shot out its Rays of Light from within, and made an Impression upon the Visible Object. But ever since Aristotle, this Account of Vision hath been better stated, and all the Senses are allowed to be equally Passive, equally wrought upon from without: All the Arguments of the Ancients to the contrary being very easily answered and set aside.  
But now, besides these Five particular Senses, the Organs whereof appear outwardly, there is Another, which is called the Common Sensory within. Here it is that the several Objects of every sort, perceived by the Corporeal Organs, make their Rendezvous: Hither they are brought to be examined, compared, sorted out, and distinguished asunder: For were there no such Office of Enquiry, all would end in Confusion. This discerning Power is above the Capacity of any particular Organ of Sense; for each of these is intent upon his own Business; and whatever his Fellows do, is out of His Sphere; he knows nothing at all of the Matter; nor can he be a competent Judge in it.   

CHAP. X. Of the Senses, which are the most Exalted and Noble Parts of the Body.  
THE Ordinary way of being conducted to the Knowledge of Things, 
Of what Consequence they are to us.  is by the Assistance and Ministry of our Senses; so say the Schools, but it is not universally true. These are our first Instructers: 
See Ch. xv. 11.  All our Learning gins with them, and is at last resolved into them: We can go no farther back than they lead us, or give occasion for us to build Consequences upon. Each of These is supreme within its own Territories; and a large Dominion each of them possesses: An infinite Number of Reflections and Notions arise from each; nor does any One of them hold under, depend upon, or stand in need of the rest: Thus the Power of them all is equally absolute, though some of them have a wider Range, and more Business, and a longer Train of Consequences and Instructions, than some others. Nor are we to wonder at This, since the Case is the same in other Instances: For a Petty Prince is as independent, as truly Sovereign within his own small Territories, as the greatest Monarch upon Earth in Kingdoms of the largest extent.  
It is a Maxim universally received, 
Their Number.  That there are but Five Senses in Nature; and that which inclines all the World to think so, is, because we can observe no more in ourselves: But possibly there may be more, and some question may be made of it; nay indeed some probable Reasons may be offered, that there are more. But supposing that there are, it is certainly not in our Power to know it; nor can we possibly assert or deny the thing positively; For there is no way to discover the Want or Defect of a Sense we never had. Several Brutes enjoy all the Advantages of Life that are necessary to them, notwithstanding they do not enjoy all the Methods of Sensation, which Nature hath given to Mankind; and I see no Reason, why an Animal may not subsist without any of the Five Senses, that of Touch only excepted, which alone would supply the bare Necessities of Life. It is plain we live very conveniently with Five; and yet perhaps there may be One, or Two, or Three more in Nature, which we in no degree partake of. But, as I said, this is more than we do or can know; for each Sense is consigned within its own Division, and can make no Discoveties, nor hath any Jurisdiction out of its own Compass. A Man Blind from his Birth can never be brought to any Idea of Sight; nor can he (strictly speaking) either desire it, or be concerned for the want of it. 'Tis true, he will tell you perhaps, that he wishes to See, but this is spoke by rote, and according as he hears other People express themselves; for indeed he wishes he knows not what: And all it comes to at last is, that he would be glad to have somewhat which he is told the rest of the World have, and himself hath not. The reason of all This is, Because the Senses are the Doors, 
See Note.  at which all our Knowledge makes its first Entrance; and that which did not begin, and is not let in that way, cannot come in at all. Thus a Man is not capable of forming to himself a Conception of more Senses, than those Five which himself hath, and consequently cannot persuade himself, that there are, or can be more in Nature; but it does not follow from hence that there can be no more, because he hath no Notion of any more. Who knows whether the many Difficulties which still remain unaccounted for in many of the Works of Nature, and the Operations of Animals, that escape the nicest Enquiry, and subtlest Penetration of Humane Wit, may not be charged upon the Want of some Sense, which we are not provided with to discern them? What the World usually expresses by the Title of Sympathies, Antipathies, and Occult Qualities, may have some Sensitive Faculties in Nature, accommodated to perceive, and make a competent Judgement of them; and perhaps our Ignorance of them is owing to our being desicient in this Point. Who can tell, whether it be not some particular Sixth Sense, which informs the Cock, when it is Midnight, and the first Dawning of the Day, and by some secret Impulse, puts him constantly upon Crowing at those times? The same may be said of that Direction, by which some Brutes are led to such Herbs, as are proper for their Recovery, when sick or surfeited; and of many other such things as these, which are notorious Matters of Fact, but the reasons of them perfectly unknown. This is a Case in which we are utterly in the Dark; and no Man can be positively assured on either side of the Question.  
Some indeed have undertaken to give a Reason for this particular Number of Five Senses, 
Whether enough of them.  and to prove that These are suflicient, by comparing and distinguishing them, and the Uses they serve. All Bodies (say they) without us, which are Objects of our Senses, are either very near and close to Our Body, or they are at some distance from it: If they be close to us, and still remain without us, than they fall under our Touch: If they approach, and come into us, than they are the Objects of our Taste: If they are more remote, and stand before us, so that their Distances are measured by a Right Line, than the Sight discerns them: If the Line be Obliqne, and the Motion Reflex, than the Hearing does it. Now methinks the Distinction were better thus: Of the Five Senses accommodated for the Service of the whole Man, as he is compounded of Body and Soul, some are appropriated to the Use of the Body only; and These are the Touch and the Taste; the One for all that enters within, the Other for that which continues still without it. Some again are first and chief designed for the Benefit of the Soul, and those are Sight and Hearing; the Former to assist Invention, the Latter for Improvement, and Instruction, and all manner of Communication. And One more in the midst of these Extremes, sitted to those Spirits and Avenues, that belong to Soul and Body both, which is Smelling. Again, They answer to the Four Elements, and their respective Qualities; The Touch to the Earth; Hearing to the Air; Taste to Water and Moisture; Smelling to Fire; and Sight to a Compound of Water and Fire, because of the Brightness of the Eye. It is likewise pretended, that there are as many Senses, as there are General Divisions of sensible Objects; and these are Colours, Sounds, Scents, Relishes, and a Fifth sort, which wants a Name to express it, adapted to the Touch, and comprehending all the Tactile Qualities, as Hot, Cold, Hard, Soft, Rough, Smooth, Sharp, and the rest of them. But This is evidently a Mistake; for the Number of the Senses is by no means adjusted, according to the Number of the Objects they are capable of. Nor are these Objects the Cause of their being just so many, and no more. Were this a good Account, it would follow, that we must have been endued with a great many more than we now have; whereas now one and the same Sense entertains Objects of different Kind's; and one and the same Object creates a Perception, and impresses itself upon several Senses at once. The most probable Account of this Matter seems rather to be, That the Senses were intended for Means and Instruments of conveying Knowledge to us; and that Nature, which, as she is not niggardly, so neither is she profuse, hath given us as many Senses as are suflicient for this purpose; and that when she had supplied us with enough for our Use, she did not think sit to give us any more.  
Of These the Sense of Seeing does surpass all the rest in the Quickness of its Operation; 
A Comparision of them.  For it reaches the very Heavens in an Instant, and acts in the Air, which is full of Light and Images, without any Trouble or Motion; whereas all the rest of the Senses receive their Impression by the Motion of those Bodies which make it. And all Motion requires Time to be performed in; so that all the other Senses must needs proceed more slowly than This, which need but open its Organ, and is sure to find Light and Colours stand always ready to be discerned by it. All the Senses are likewise capable of Pleasure and Pain; but This is observable of the two grossest of them, That the Touch is capable of abundance of Pain, and but very little Pleasure; and the Taste, just contrary, feels a great deal of Pleasure, and little or no Pain.  
The Weakness and Uncertainty of our Senses is the Great Cause of our Ignorance, and Error, 
The Weakness and Uncertainty of them.  and all sort of Misapprehension: For, since Knowledge is attained by the Mediation of the Senses only, if these make a false Report, what can we do but receive and stick to it? But after All, who can tell what Reports they make, or how can any Man accuse them of Falsehood, since we learn all from Them, and consequently even That which gives us this Jealousy, and is the Ground of the Accusation? Some indeed affirm, That the Senses are faithful in all their Messages, and represent the very Truth; That, when we imagine they deceive us, the Fault is not in Them, but in something else; and that we ought rather to lay it at any other Door; for no other thing is so free from, so incapable of imposing upon us. Some again run into the contrary Extreme, cry out upon the Senses as downright infamous Liars, and tell you, that nothing at all of Certainty can be had from them. 
* See Advertisement.  But the Truth lies between these Extremes.  
Now, Whether the Senses themselves are deceived or not, thus much at least is evident, 
The mutual Deceits of the Mind, and the Senses.  that they put a Cheat, nay sometimes a Constraint upon Reason; and that by an unhappy Vicissitude, Reason pays them back in their own Coin, and returns the Cheat upon Them. And is not Man, think you, like to be wonderful Wise and Knowing, when the outward and the inward Instruments of Instruction are Eternally tricking one another, and his whole Composition is full of Falsehood and Weakness in the most necessary and essential Parts of it? Now, that the Senses deceive, and commit a Violence upon the Understanding, we see plain enough in those Instances, where Some of them immediately put us in a Rage, Others sweeten and appease the Soul, and Others again tickle and please it exceedingly. And why should Men turn their Heads away, when they are let Blood, or lanced, or suffer Incisions and Burn, but from their Consciousness of the Power the Senses have to disturb their Reason; and that the same thing is better born, when the Eyes do not observe the Operation? The Looking down a Pit, or vast Precipice, disorders and confounds a Man, though he knows at the same time, that he stands safe himself, and cannot reasonably apprehend any danger of falling into it? And, to instance in no more, 'tis evident, that Sense of Pain and Pleasure both, does every Day vanquish, and utterly confound the best and bravest Resolutions of Virtue, and Temperance, and Patience.  
Again, It is no less evident, that the Senses on the other hand are cheated by the Understanding. This is demonstrated by those Agitations of Anger, and Love, and Hatred, and other Passions, which impose upon us, and make us see and hear things quite otherwise than they really are. Nay sometimes our Senses are not only deceived, but perfectly stupefied, and bound up from all power of Action, by violent Disorders of the Soul, as if the Soul retired inwards, and were entirely taken up there; For thus it often happens, when our Mind is very intent upon somewhat else, the Eye never sees, nor takes the least notice of those Objects that stand directly before it, and present themselves to our View. And Reason and Sense judge very differently of the Magnitude of the Sun and Stars, and of the Shape of a Stick in the Water.  
Other Living Creatures have a Share in this Gift of Nature as well as We, 
These Senses are common to Men and Brutes.  and sometimes are more liberally dealt with in it: For Some are quicker of Hearing than Men; Others have a stronger and clearer Sight; Others a nicer Smell; and Others a more distinguishing Taste. The general Opinion is, that a Stag excels all other Creatures in Hearing, an Eagle in Seeing, a Dog in Smelling, an Ape in Tasting, and a Tortoise in Feeling. But yet the Pre-eminence in this last hath been allowed to Man; which is not much for our Credit, since This of all the Senses is reckoned the grossest and most Brutal. In the mean while, this Reflection upon what hath gone before, may not be unseasonable; That if the Senses are the Means and Instruments of Knowledge, and Brutes have Senses too, nay frequently more acute and penetrating than Ours, there may a fair Argument be drawn from hence, for Their partaking in Knowledge with us, as well as they partake of the Helps and Means that convey it to us.  
But though the Senses be the Instruments of Knowledge, yet are they not the only Instruments; 
It is hard to trust our Senses.  much less are our own Senses alone to be consulted or depended upon in the Case: For if it happens that Brutes have from Their Senses a Report different from that which Ours make, and the Judgement given upon that Evidence do consequently disagree with the Notions we form to ourselves, (as in sundry Instances 'tis plain it does happen) which of these two Testimonies shall we believe? Our Fasting-Spittle cleanses and heals our own Wounds, and yet it kills a Serpent; Now from Two so different Effects, what Conclusion can be made concerning the true Nature of Humane Spittle? Shall we say that it is of a Drying and a Cleansing, or of a Poisonous and Killing Quality? To make any certain Determination of the Operations of Sense, we should do well, methinks, to agree with the Brutes, who have the same Faculties as well as We. But the least that can possibly be required in order to it, is That we should be consistent with our own selves, and that the same Judge, and the same Evidence should always concur in the same Sentence. And yet even This we are not come to: Shut your Eye, and put your Finger upon part of the Lid, and this Eye so pressed sees things after another manner, than it does in the Natural and Common Posture. Stop your Ear, and the Sound is vastly different from what it is in the ordinary Impression: These Disserences every Man, when he will, may make for himself. But some there are which Nature hath made to our Hand: A Child Tastes, and Hears, and Sees much otherwise than a Grown Man; and a Man in his full Strength dislers no less from an Old Man; One in perfect Health, from a sick Person; a Wise Man from a Fool. Now where the Diversity and Distance is so great, nay, where there is even a Contrariety of Perceptions, where shall we fix, or what can we depend upon for Truth? Even One Sense contradicts, and gives the Lie to another; for a Piece of Painting which seems Raised, and in Relief (as they term it) to the Eye, when we come to feel it with the Hand, is perfectly flat and smooth.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
IN order to giving the Reader a right Notion of the Matter treated of in this Chapter, I shall beg leave to detain him a little, with the Consideration of these Three Particulars. 

First, What dependence may be had upon the Evidence of Sense.  
Secondly, Whence those Mistakes do really proceed, which we find sometimes charged upon the Deceivableness of our Senses.  
Thirdly, Whether All our Knowledge depends upon our Senses, so as that we can know nothing but by Their means.    
I. As to the Evidence of Sense; This is what all Mankind, who have ever allowed any thing of Knowledge or Certainty at all, constantly looked upon, as the surest and most irrefragable in all those Cases, which are the proper Objects of it: And therefore He that went about to evacuate or weaken this, was esteemed a Man not fit to be disputed with: Because one must needs despair of producing any better and more convincing Proofs, and so he must continue in incurable Ignorance, unless we could suppose so absurd a Process in arguing, as that a Man should be persuaded of a thing more manifest, by a Medium which is less so. It were an Assront to Humane Nature, to endeavour the establishing this by Arguments, since none ever disclaimed the Truth of it, but They who would not allow us to be sure that any Thing was true; and consequently, could no more depend upon their own Objections against it, than they could upon the Thing they brought them against. Therefore Lucretius hath very deservedly exposed the Folly of such perverse Sceptics, in his Fourth Book. Denique nil sciri siquis putat, etc. 
He that says Nothing can be known, overthrows  
His own Opinion; for He Nothing knows;  
So knows not That. What need of long dispute?  
Those Maxims kill Themselves, Themselves confute:  
But grant This might be known, and grant He knew;  
Yet since he hath discovered nothing true.  
What Mark, and what Criterion then can show,  
Or tell, what 'tis to know, or not to know?  
Or how could He what's Truth, what's Falshood learn?  
How what was Doubt, what Certainty discern? From Sense all Truth and Certainty infer,  
In vain some strive to prove that Sense can err;  
For that which would convince, which would oppose  
The Senses, must be surer far than those.   
So that upon these Terms, it is evident all Knowledge must be given up, because if our Senses be false, we can have no stronger Conviction than what arises from Them, that any thing is true; nor that there is such a thing as Truth or Falsehood in the World. But besides, if it were proper to argue in such a Case, any reasonable Person would find no difficulty in the Belief of this Matter; For if he only allow the Being of a God, and considers the mighty consequence of our Senses to us in all our Affairs whatsoever; it can never enter into one's Head, that a Being of such Perfections would leave his Creatures in perpetual Ignorance and Uncertainty, and give them such Organs and Instruments, as should only deceive and confound them: For God indeed is the true Efficient Cause of all our Sensations, and the Foundation of our Certainty; and his Goodness and Truth are our Pledges, that we are not mistaken staken, and always in the wrong, in the due Use of those Faculties he hath given us to distinguish things by.  
Again: If we observe the manner how these Operations are performed, that it is by External Impressions, by which the Object strikes upon the proper Organ, and that Impression is continued till it be carried on to that, which is called the Common Sensory, or the inward Seat of Sense; All this must depend upon the same necessary Laws of Matter and Motion, by which Bodies in general act upon one another. And therefore, supposing the same Object, the same force of Impression, the same Situation, the same Disposition of the Organ, the same Medium, and the like; the Report of the Sense cannot but be the same: But where there is a Variation in any of these, the Perception is under a necessity of Varying too. Thus, (to use the Instance mentioned by Charron) When part of the Eyelid is pressed down by the Finger, the Rays are differently admitted into the Pupil, and fall upon two several places of the Tunica Retina, which consequently creates a twofold Impression of the Object: And This Duplicity is as natural and necessary in such a Disposition of the Eye, as truly agreeable to all the Rules of Matter and Motion, as a single Representation would be in the usual Posture; so far from a Reflection upon the Truth of Sense, that our Senses could not be true, if the thing were otherwise represented. A proportionable Difference must needs follow in the different Modifications of Light and Shades; (which is the Reason of that Appearance taken notice of here, of Pieces in Relief) the dextrous Management whereof makes the great Secret of the Art of Painting. So it is again, if there be any thing uncommon in the Medium through which the Rays pass from the Object to the Organ of Sense; which is the Case of Prismes, or of Eyes, either distorted in their Situation, or discoloured in any of the Humours: And as These make a Change in the represented Colour of the Object, so does the Contraction or Dilatation of the Pupil, in the Magnitude or Figure of it. And the Eye, and other Organs of Sense, varying by Age, Sickness, Nature, or Accidents, unavoidably require different Sensations, in Persons of different Years and Conditions. The Matter coming much to one, whether the Object be variously represented through Distance, or its own Posture and Form, or through some Change and Defect of the Organ, which receives the Impression. All Which sufficiently accounts for the differing Sensations of Children, Grown-Men, and Aged Persons; the different Tastes of the Sick and the Healthful; and indeed the vast Diversity of Palates among Mankind in general: For here is a mighty Diversity in the Organ of Sense; and the making one and the same Report is therefore impossible: For our Senses are like Messengers, and all their Business is, To be Faithful and True in delivering their Errand, as they have received it. If it were not given as it ought to be at first, (that is, if there be any accidental Defects to change the Appearance) This they are not responsible for; but they are to tell what they feel, and hear, and see; and in This they are faithful, and may be depended upon. For, That they may be trusted even in Matters of the greatest Consequence, is beyond all reasonable Contradiction; not only from the most necessary and important Matters of Humane Life, being carried on upon the Confidence of this Testimony, but (which to a Christian is much more considerable) from all the External Evidences of Religion being put upon this Issue. The Life and Death, the Resurrection and Ascension of our Blessed Saviour, the Doctrines he taught, and the Miracles he did in Confirmation of them, being so many Appeals to the Senses of those with whom he conversed, and the great Motive to Persuasion, which the Apostle urges, is, that he delivered That to his Proselytes concerning the Word of Life, of which they had had all possible Demonstrations, since it was what He and his Fellow-Preachers had heard, what they had seen with their Eyes, what they had looked upon, 
1 John I. 1.  and their Hands had handled. All which was certainly a very weak and impertinent Allegation, if the Senses are so liable to Mistakes, and so uncertain a Foundation of Knowledge, that we cannot with safety fix any Conclusions from the Reports they make to us. And yet it cannot be denied, but Men do very frequently err by too easy a Credulity in this respect, which ministers sufficient ground for our Second Enquiry.  
II. Whence those Errors do really proceed, which we find sometimes charged upon the Deceiveableness of our Senses. In This, as well as some Other Particulars, Epicurus seems to have been very unfairly dealt withal by the Stoics, and some other Philosophers of a contrary Party; who, because he asserted the Truth of the Senses, and vindicated their Fidelity in Reporting, have charged him with affirming, that a Man could not possibly mistake in forming Judgements according to those Appearances. Whereas in Truth Epicurus only places the Senses in the Quality of Evidence, whose business it is to relate bare Matter of Fact, but does by no means deny the Jurisdiction of the Court to which those Accounts are given, to pass Sentence as shall seem just and equal. To this purpose is that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which Diogenes Laertius in his Tenth Book mentions; and Gassendus in his Comment upon it, so rationally enlarges upon. By which is meant, that Men ought to avoid Precipitation, and not rashly pronounce, that things are in reality as they are represented; but calmly and slowly examine Circumstances, and observe the Causes of such Representations. Thus likewise Lucretius in his Fourth Book, after having instanced in several Appearances, which, when strictly enquired into, are found to differ from the Nature of the things themselves, closes his Account with these very significant Verses, 
Caetera de genere hoc mirando multa videmus,  
Quae violare fidem quasi sensibus omnia quaerunt.  
Nequicquam. Quoniam pars horum maxima fallit,  
Propter Opinatus animi, quos addimus ipsi, etc.  Which the English Reader may take from Mr. Creech thus: 
Ten Thousand such appear, Ten Thousand Fees  
To Certainty of Sense; and All oppose:  
In vain. 'Tis Judgement, not the Sense mistakes,  
Which fancied Things for real Objects takes.   
If then One Light appear to be Two, when the Eyelid is pressed; if a Square Building at a Distance seem Round; if a Piece in Perspective seem a Cloister or a Portico; a Man is not presently to conclude that these are really such; nor can he be excused if he do so. For Reason and Considederation would convince him, that these Ideas must be so, and could not be otherwise; That the unnatural Disposition of the Eye must needs double the Image in the first Instance; That the Distance of the Object will naturally cut off the Angles, and render the Perception less distinct, in the second; and that Shades artificially cast, and some Strokes of the Pencil or Style bolder and stronger than the rest, will of necessity create Imaginary Protuberances, and imaginary Distances in the Last. What Course then shall one take to prevent Errors in these Cases? In general; he must not be too hasty in giving Judgement, but bring these things to the Test. The First must be viewed with his Eye in its usual Form and Condition; the Second he must make nearer Approaches to, and view it close at Hand: For the Third he may call in another Sense to his Assistance; and if the Eye alone cannot, the Touch must set him right.  
But to this Charron replies, and not only He, but Lucretius, That no One Sense can possibly correct another: 
An poterunt Oculos Aures reprehendere, an Aures Tactus? etc.  
What? Can the Ears convince the Eyes? Can Those  
Confute the Hand, the Palate, or the Nose?  
Tell them wherein they err, when e'er they miss,  
And give false Notices? Fond Fancy this!  
For Each a proper Use and Power enjoys,  
A proper Object every Sense Employs.   
But after all, What is the true Meaning of this Argument, and how much does it amount to? No more than this. That All the Senses are not equally adapted to receive and distinguish all manner of Objects: that Each of them is equally Faithful in those peculiar to it: And consequently, the Eyes cannot correct the Ear in Sounds; nor the Ear the Nose in Smells: But does it follow from hence, that when two, or more of these Evidences are joined, they will not corroborate the Testimony, and give a firmer Assurance? or that Reason, which is the proper Judge may not sift out the Truth by confronting these Evidences against one another? This is a Construction wholly foreign to the Place, and to the Philosopher's Design. And therefore (says Empiricus) as Physicians pronounce of a Disease not from One single Symptom, but from the Concurrence of several; and a Fover is distinguished, not only by the quickness of the Pulse, but by the Excess of Heat, the Redness of the Complexion, the Height of the Water, the Excessive Thirst, and other Characters known to the Skilful in that Art; So a doubting Philosopher makes a Judgement of Truth, by the Co-incidence and good Agreement of several Ideas compared together. And to the same Purpose, Macrobius hath described the Process sit for such Cases. If (says he) a Man sees the Figure of an Apple at a Distance, it does not presently follow that this is a real Apple; because this Resemblance may be formed out of other Materials. 
Saturn 7.14.  What then shall he do to satisfy himself? Let him put it to the Trial of another Sense, and judge of it by the Smell: But possibly it may have lain among Apples, and retain the Scent: Then consult the Touch, and examine the Weight of it: But perhaps the Cunning Artificer hath been very Nice in adjusting this too; If so, let him have recourse to the Taste, and if he find the true Relish of an Apple; these concurring Evidences leave no reasonable Doubt of its being really the very Fruit it at first seemed to be. From hence it does not only appear, what Care ought to be taken in judging the Representations of Sense; but likewise, how it comes to pass, that Men so often err upon this Occasion. That it is merely the Effect of Rashness, and Negligence; and the determining more than we have Evidence for. For these Ideas, and Impressions give us only the appearances, and external Accidents of things; and so long as we affirm them to Appear so to us, we are safe, and cannot Err. But if from these Accidents we shall undertake to determine of their Substance and Nature: if we shall definitively say, They actually Are, what they Appear, our own Mind misguides us; and the Fault lies not in the Evidence, which told us true; but in the Judge, who decides the Cause, without canvasing the Witnesses, and declares That for Right and Truth, which was never posed before him.  
My Reader will easily apply what hath been said here (perhaps too tediously) to what our Author insinuates of the mutual Cheat, in his sixth Paragraph of this Chapter. For hence it is that our Panic Fears, and other groundless and violent Passions of the Mind, grow to such Excesses, that they run away with the First Impressions, and never call in Reason, to calm and moderate the Disorder of the Spirits; but are perfectly transported in the present Heat and Agitation, and instead of examining, magnify the tormenting Ideas to themselves. All which is in no Degree owing to the natural Defect, either of Sense or Reason; but to strength of Passion, and Neglect of such timely Remedies, as Nature hath provided us with, if not wholly to prevent, yet at least to abate, and soften, and reduce it to a convenient Temper.  
III. I proceed now to the last Enquiry, Whether all our Knowledge depend upon the Senses, so as that we can know nothing but by Their Means. Here Gassendus forsakes me, and fiercely vindicates that received Opinion of some old Philosophers, That nothing can come at the Understanding, except it pass through some of the Senses in its Way thither.  
It is not asserted by those who undertake to maintain that Opinion, that nothing more can be known by us, than what the Impressions of Sense give us an immediate Perception of; but that we are instructed from Reflection as well as Sensation; so that, by abstracting, enlarging, or otherwise modifying our Ideas, we come to understand the Nature of things; yet so as that we can understand nothing, except the Ideas of it are entertained clearly and distinctly; either so as to represent to us the thing itself; or so as to give us sufficient Matter for Reflection to work upon, in raising fresh Ideas from it.  

I. Thus it is, that they pretend to answer the Argument commonly urged against them, from that very Power we find in ourselves, and the common Exercise of it, to correct the Errors of Imagination. For if all Perceptions of the Mind were Corporeal Images of the Brain, we must necessarily judge according to the Report of our Sensitive Organs; and so the Sun must be concluded no Bigger than he appears. No (say they) for the Mind knows very well, that Distance lessens the Object to the Eye; and therefore reflecting agreeably to the Rules given in the former Particular, it pronounces the Sun vastly bigger than it seems. But still, All this will not amount to those Reasons, which adjust its Magnitude, to be 160 times Bigger than the Earth. Or, if they would, yet Proportions and Distances are mere Respects, and such as we can have no Corporeal Images of. These than are the Effect of another Principle; and so is the Determinate Magnitude of this Body; for though Enlarging the Idea, and allowing for Distance, would create an Image vastly Bulky perhaps; yet this could not state the Exact Dimensions, nor form the Comparison in such Odds, between that Globe of Fire, and this of Earth.  
II. Another Argument against all Knowledge proceeding from the Senses, is taken from Those, which are commonly called the Reflex Acts of the Mind, such as we perceive our Own Operations and Thoughts by: For all Ideas, which are intromitted by the Senses, come from Material Objects, and such Impressions are subject to the common Laws of Matter; one of which is, To act by Impulse, and upon something else, but not upon itself. So that it is impossible for the Mind to have its own Image conveyed through the Organs of Sense; and consequently these sorts of Operations, by which it retires inward, and recollects, and views itself; As they are undeniable in Fact, so are they in all Reason to be ascribed to some other Power than Imagination; and such as the Senses and External Impressions have nothing to do in.  
III. But though we should allow, that the Mind (as some have contended, though they have not been able to prove it) can by Similitude, Abstraction, and such other Methods, form Ideas even of these things; yet what shall we say to the Case of Immaterial Substances? And that such there are, a Reflection upon our own Souls, the Objects about which they are conversant, their several Operations, and the Manner of them, very incompatible with Matter and the Laws of Motion, will not suffer reasoning People to Doubt. Now if all Knowledge be derived from our Senses, it must proceed from such Ideas as are drawn upon the Imagination, by Impressions upon the outward Organ, conveyed thither in the usual Course and Method of Sensation; but these Impressions cannot be made otherwise, than by Matter and Motion; and consequently, either we can have no distinct Notion, no assurance of any Immaterial Substances; or else we may have some Knowledge which does not depend upon, nor accrue to us from our Senses.  
iv At this Rate, neither can we have any Idea at all, of the First and most perfect Being, God himself: For what Representations can Sense give us? what Reflections can it help us to, of a Being Infinite and Eternal, Independent and produced from no other Cause; such as hath the Properties of Self, and Necessary Existence inseparable from the Notion of it? It is not the Image of an old Man, nor the multiplying of Years into a vast Duration, that will do the Business here; for still the main Difficulty, of never Beginning, never Ending; Self-Origination, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 remains; and will for ever remain, not only incapable of any sensible Representation, but a Contradiction to them all. And yet Reason assures us, That such a Being, there certainly is; nay, that there needs must be; for without it, nothing could ever have been at all; but We must lose ourselves and all our Ideas in a Maze and infinite Circle of Causes; and shall never be able to account for the Existence of any thing, which our Senses are confessed to represent to us, unless we admit of One thing, which it must be confessed, they never can give us any sort of Representation of.  
V Once more. To come lower, and observe even Corporeal Substances themselves. Such as we see, and feel, and converse with every Moment. From such as these it is that our Senses are moved. But let us consider, What it is that moves them; or how far we can be informed by such Impressions. Now it is granted on all Hands, that Sense can only instruct us in the Modes and Accidents of Things; and yet All thinking Men must allow, that those Accidents are not capable of subsisting alone. So that we can learn this Way the Powers and Properties of things, but not the Things themselves. Thus, while we are forced to make a Difference, between the Nature and Real Essence, and the Properties or Accidents inherent in that Nature; we must yield plainly, that all our Knowledge is so far from depending upon Sense, that we cannot know any one thing by it. Since every Man's Reason undeniably assures him, that there is something more intimate and deep, which no Ideas can reach to; and without which those Superficial Qualities, of which he hath any Idea, could not possibly subsist.   
Upon the whole Matter it is certain, that there must be some common Notices and Principles, such as evidence themselves to every considering Mind, which do not only assist, but carry us beyond any sensible Ideas, or any Reflections they can be improved into: Concerning which, if my Reader desire more full satisfaction, and would see this Argument illustrated at large, he will do well to consult the incomparably Learned and Judicious Bishop Stillingfleet, in his late Vindication of the Doctrine of the Trinity. Chap. X.  
I add only upon this Occasion, that the foregoing Reasons are of good Force to prove, that the Humane Soul is of a more Noble Principle than Matter. For indeed, not only Reason, but Sensation is not to be solved upon other Terms. Of which the Modern Philosophers were well ware; who, when they asserted the Souls of Brutes to be mere Matter, soon found an absolute Necessity of affirming, that they were altogether void of Sense too: For though the outward Impression be made upon the Organ, yet it is a Reflex Act, which makes the Sensation, and informs the Patient of it. And such Acts they have not been able to conceive, how Matter should be capable of. Since it is the Property of one Body to Act upon another, but no Body can act upon itself.    

CHAP. XI. Of Sight, Hearing, and Speech.  
THese are the Three Jewels, 
These Three 〈◊〉 together.  the most Excellent and Valuable Endowments, that belong to the Body of Man: None that appear to outward View, are comparable to them; but it will bear some Dispute, which of the Three ought to be preferred. As to the Organ, by which they are performed, it must be confessed, that That of the Sight is admirable for its charming Form, and nice Composition; it is Beautiful, Lively, and Sparkling, made up of great Variety; its Parts Subtle, and Small; and their Humours mixed to Astonishment, both for Use and Comeliness. From whence that common Observation hath obtained, that the Eye is one of those Parts, which Nature first gins to form, and finishes one of the last. Upon the same Account This is one of the tenderest, and most delicate Parts about us: Subject to a vast Number of Diseases and Infirmities. Physicians and Anatomists have reckoned no less than a Hundred and Twenty Indispositions incident to it. Speech is esteemed the next in Dignity, but Hearing makes some amends for the last and lowest Place, by the many great Advantages belonging to it. Sight seems to be the most Necessary, and most Serviceable to the Body. And this seems to be the Reason, why it is of greater Consequence to Brutes, whose Advantages are chief Corporeal, than Hearing can be: But Hearing seems to challenge the Preference, with Regard to the Advantages and Improvement of the Mind. Sight is principally Useful for Invention, for most things are discovered by the help of this Sense; but though it lays the first Foundations, and gives the Hints, yet it brings nothing to Perfection. It is farther to be considered, that Sight is capable of Perception in nothing but what is Corporeal, and it gives no Knowledge of Universals. Individuals and Bodies are its proper Object, and it cannot penetrate into these any deeper than the Shell or Surface. It is the proper Instrument of Ignorant and Unlearned Men, who look no farther, than that which is just before them, and makes an Impression upon the outward Senses.  
Hearing may be termed an Inward and Spiritual Sense: 
Hearing 〈◊〉.  It is the Agent and Conveyer of Intelligence to the Understanding; the Instrument of Learning and Thought; and receives not only Individuals, as Sight does, but dives into their most secret and abstruse Parts; nay it hath a Capacity so large as to comprehend General, Spiritual, Abstracted, and Divine Truths; such as Sight is so far from giving us any assistance in, that it rather disturbs and confounds us in the Disquisisition of them. Accordingly, there have been many Instances of Great Men who have been blind, and yet singularly eminent for Wisdom and Knowledge; and some of Persons who have deprived themselves of Sight, in order to the becoming more exquisite Philosophers; but no one Example of either of these Kind's can be produced in Deaf Persons. This is the Gate by which we enter, and storm the Castle; By This we bend the Mind to Good or Evil. So Profane Story tells us of Agamemnon's Queen, whose Chastity was preserved by Music: And so Sacred Story relates, that Saul's Evil-Spirit was charmed by David's Harp: and so the Roman History observes, that Graechus the famous Orator sweetened his Voice by the help of one that played to him upon the Flute, and taught him such Tones, as were most moving, and for his purpose. In short, This is the Only Passage that Learning, and Truth, and Virtue have found to our Souls; and the Gospel itself enters by it: 
Rom. x. 17  For the Apostle hath told us, That Faith cometh by Hearing, and Hearing by the Word of God. And that they who obstinately stick to the Report of their Sight, will find it rather an Obstruction than an Informer in the highest Mysteries of Religion. 
Heb. xi. 1.  That Faith is the Evidence of things not seen, and the Belief of Testimonies that are heard: And accordingly the Primitive Christians had a Class of Believers to whom they gave the Title of Audientes, Hearers. To all This I may add, that This Sense is of great Use in the Dark, and when Men are asleep, by giving them seasonable Alarms, and awakening them to provide for their Defence and Preservation. Upon all these Accounts the Philosophers are so profuse in their Praises of Hearing, recommending the diligent use of it, advising us to purge our Ears, and keep them clean from Prejudice and Corruption; This being the best Security, the surest Guard of our Souls, as a Commander in Garrison would make it his first and chief Care, to keep strict Sentry, and line the Gates and Walls well, for fear an Enemy should rush in and surprise him.  
Speech is a particular Favour of Nature to Mankind, 
The Power of Speech.  and a very useful, necessary, and excellent Gift it is. Consider it with respect to the Speaker, and it is the Image and Interpreter of the Soul; the Messenger of the Heart, the Door by which all that lies within, comes out, and shows itself abroad. Whatsoever is born in Darkness, is thus brought forth into the Light; the Mind discovers and displays itself most clearly this way; which gave occasion to that Saying of one of the Ancients, 
* Eloquere, ut videam.  Speak, that I may know what you are. Thus Men are like Vessels, which by the Sound are quickly distinguished, whether they be broken or whole, full or empty; and Speech to Them is like the Touchstone to Metals; the Counterfeit and the true Standard are immediately known by it.  
But if we consider it with regard to the Persons to whom it is directed, thus it is a powerful and an imperious Master; enters the Castle, seizeth the Governor; it moves and stirs him, it animates and encourages, it provokes and appeases, it raises and dejects him; it overwhelms him with Grief, and transports him with Joy; makes what Impressions, inspires what Passions it pleases; manages and moulds the Soul into any Form, and bends it all manner of ways: Nay, it extends its Dominion over the Body too; makes that Red with Blushes, and Pale with Fear; provokes Laughter and Tears; forces it to start and shiver; to tremble with Anger, leap for Joy, swoon and faint away with Violence of Passion.  
Consider it with regard to the World in general, and Speech is as it were the Hand of the Soul, which This uses as the Body does the Natural one, for taking and receiving, for ask and for giving Assistance. This is the great Goer-between, the Carrier of Intelligence, the Factor for Trade 
† Merx à Mercurio. , as the Latin Etymologists tell us, that the Word which signifies Traffic and Commerce, derives itself from Mercury the God of Eloquence. By It Treaties of Peace are made, War proclaimed, all manner of Business public and private negotiated and dispatched; Learning, and all the hidden Treasures of the Mind uttered and distributed: For This in Truth is the Original and the Instrument of all Communication; the Band and Cement of Humane Society, (provided the Language be perfectly understood; for as one of the Ancients said, A Man had better be in the Company of a Dog that he knows, and is acquainted with, than in that of another Man, who cannot make himself understood by us. So that one Foreigner to another does by no means answer the 
† Ut externus alieno non sit hominis vice.  Character of his Nature, and is in effect as no Man.)  
In short, The Tongue is a Tool converted to all manner of Uses; an Instrument of Good and Evil, 
Prov. xviii. 21.  as Wisdom itself hath taught us; Life and Death are in the Power of the Tongue. The Advantages and the Inconveniences that proceed from it are never to be expressed; a prudent or an incautious, a wicked, or a conscientious use of it, disposes our own, and sometimes other People's Fortunes; or draws down infinite Dangers; preserves or destroys Reputation: 
Of a good and ill tongue. Prov. x. 20. xii. 18. xv. 4.  So that nothing is of better or worse Consequence than the Tongue. The Tongue of the Wise and Just (says the same Divine Wisdom) is as choice Silver, it is Health, it is a Tree of Life, enriching, healing, reconciling; a Preservative and a Happiness. It is as the Door to a Royal Cabinet, upon the opening whereof we immediately see a Thousand precious Rarities, more beautiful, more valuable than all the Wealth of both the Indies; more fragrant and refreshing than all the Gums and Spices of Arabia. The Wise draws out his Artillery in Order, sets his Philosophical Aphorisms and profitable Sentences in array, applies his Similitudes and Examples pertinently and seasonably, improves others by his Reading, and renders the Histories of former Ages of present and public Use, enriches all he converses with out of his own inexhaustible Mine; offers nothing but what issolid, and substantial, and tried; and is ready upon all occasions, (like the Wealthy and Prudent Housholder alluded to in the Gospel) to bring forth out of his Treasures things new and old. 
Mat. xiii.  Such beneficial Instructions as may be of use to regulate the Manners of private Persons, and direct the Government and Administration of the Public; such as may be serviceable to all Circumstances, all the Parts and Duties of Men, and teach them both how to Live, and how to Die well. And when These are introduced at seasonable Times, and managed with Discretion, the Beauty and the Pleasure of them is exceeding great, as well as the Benefit and Advantage; A Word fitly spoken is like Apples of Gold in Pictures of Silver. 
Prov. xxv. 11.  So the Wisest of Men hath expressed the Counsels, or Reproofs, or Comforts handsomely delivered; and what can possibly be more grateful, more valuable, more ornamental?  
The Mouth of a wicked Man, quite contrary, is a noisome stinking Pit; his Breath is contagious, and kills like a Pestilence; Murders his Neighbour secretly, Stabs and wounds his Reputation to Death; and then insults over his mangled Honour with a barbarous Triumph. It is Sword, and Fire, and Poison, and Death, and Hell, and Every thing that is mischievous and destructive. The Holy Spirit itself hath allowed it no better a Character; 
Jam. iii. 6.  for St. James hath called it a Fire, a World of Iniquity, a Defiler of the whole Body, an Incendiary to the Course of Nature; and this Firebrand itself kindled in Hell. And the Son of Syrach hath enlarged upon the Subject so well, 
Ecclus. xxviii. 13-21.  that the whole Passage ought to be inserted. Curse the Whisperer and Double-Tongued, for such have destroyed many that were at Peace. A Backbiting Tongue hath disquieted many, and driven them from Nation to Nation; strong Cities hath it pulled down, and overthrown the Houses of great Men. Whoso hearkeneth unto it shall never find rest, nor dwell quietly. The Stroke of the Whip maketh Marks in the Flesh, but the Stroke of the Tongue breaketh the Bones. Many have fallen by the Edge of the Sword, but not so many as have fallen by the Tongue. Well is He that is defended from it, and hath not passed through the Venom thereof; who hath not drawn the Yoke thereof, nor hath been bound in her Bands. For the Yoke thereof is a Yoke of Iron; and the Bands thereof are Bands of Brass. The Death thereof is an evil Death, the Grave is better than it.  
Now These Two, 
Correspondence of Hearing and Speech.  Hearing and Speech, answer, and have a near and intimate Relation to one another; Each of them single is of no Significance at all; and therefore Nature, to make Either of them useful, found it necessary to supply us with Both. They are the Two Doors of the Soul, whereby she sends in and out, and holds a Correspondence all the World over; nay, she does not only send, but go; for by these two, like Vessels with their Orifices joined, the Soul communicates and pours out her Thoughts, and transfuses her very Self into another's Breast. Where these Passages are shut and closed, as they are in the Deaf and Dumb, the Mind is in perpetual Misery and Solitude; For Hearing is the Door for Entrance, and Speech for going Abroad: By the former of these, the Soul receives the Conceptions of others; by the latter she imparts and enriches them with her own. The mutual Operation of these Two may be resembled to the Flint and the Steel, from the Concussion and Strokes whereof, Truth, like a Sacred Fire, is kindled; For They agitating and polishing each other, scour off the Rust of the Mind, brighten and beautify it, and bring all Knowledge to Perfection. Only we must observe, that these Noble Effects have their first Beginning from the Hearing; for Wisdom must needs have been put into the Mind before it can be drawn out from thence. And accordingly we see that Persons born Deaf, are constantly Dumb too. The first thing to be done is to furnish this House within, which is ordinarily done by Hearing; and then follows the distributing our Stores by Conversation and Speech: So that the Good and Evil of what we speak, will depend upon the Good and Evil of what we hear: For such as we are accustomed to receive, such of necessity we must give back again: And therefore a Man should above all things keep his Ears chaste and unpolluted, and stop them against Vice and Indecency; for this sort of Communication is exceeding infectious, 
Book III. Chap. 43.  and taints the Mind presently. The Advices that are proper for the Use and Government of our Speech, will be insisted upon hereafter.   

CHAP. XII. Of the other Faculties, viz. Imagination, Memory, and Appetite.  
THE Fancy or Imaginative Faculty, first collects the several Images received by the Senses, forms Ideas out of them, and lays them up for use. This is done in so accurate and faithful a manner, that though the Objects themselves be far distant, nay, though the Man be asleep, and all his Senses locked up, yet this Faculty represents them to the Mind and Thoughts, in Images so strong, so lively, that the Imagination does the very same to the Understanding now, which the Object itself did, by the first and freshest Impressions heretofore.  
The Memorative Faculty is the Register and Storehouse of all the Ideas and Images first perceived by the Senses, and then collected and sealed up by the Imagination.  
The Appetite seeks, and pursues, and culls out of all these things so apprehended, such of them as appear to be Good and most Agreeable.   

CHAP. XIII. Of the Intellectual Faculty; which is peculiar to the Humane Soul.  
BEfore we enter upon any other Discourse relating to this Subject, it is necessary to observe the Seat or Instrument of this Faculty, and then its Action, or Method of Operating.  
Now the Seat, 
The Seat and Instrument of the Soul.  or rather the Throne of the Reasonable Soul, where it sits and reigns Supreme, is not the Heart, (as was generally supposed before Plato and Hypocrates) but the Brain: For the Heart is not capable of Wisdom, but is properly the Seat and Source of Vegetation. Now the Brain, which in Man much exceeds the Quantity assigned to any other Creature, must be so contrived and disposed, that the Reasonable Soul may act freely; and in order hereunto, the Figure of it must be almost like that of a Ship; it must not be a perfect Round, it must not be too Great, nor too Little; though of the Two Extremes the Excess is much less to be found fault with, than the Defect: It must be composed of a delicate fluid Substance, of fine and subtle Parts, and these well joined together, and all united without any Separation, or void Spaces throughout the whole. It hath Four small Cavities or Ventricles, Three of which lie forward in the middle, and are placed in a Collateral Line to one another: The Fourth lies behind these, toward the hinder part of the Head, and is single by itself. This is the Shop in which the Vital Spirits are first formed and united, in order to the being afterwards converted into Animal Spirits, and then conveyed into the Three Cavities that lie forward: And these Animal Spirits are the Instruments made use of by the Soul, for discharging her several Functions, and exercising all her Faculties. Those Faculties are likewise Three; the Understanding, the Memory, and the Imagination: And these are not exercised distinctly and apart, nor hath each of them a different Ventricle of the Brain appropriated to it; (which is all an old and vulgar Error concerning them) but their Operations are altogether, and in common. All the Three Faculties exert themselves in all and every of the Three Cavities; somewhat like our Bodily Senses, which are double, and have Two Organs, in each of which the same Sense performs all its Operations entire. From hence it comes to pass, that a Man who is hurt or disabled in Two of these Three Ventricles, (as one in a Palsy, for Instance) does yet continue to have the use of all his Three Faculties: That is, He understands, and remembers, and forms Ideas still, by virtue of that One Cavity, which the Disease hath not yet seized upon. It is true, he does this more weakly, and every Operation of every kind is more imperfect than it was formerly, because the Strength and Vigour of One is not equal to the united Force of Three: But yet it evidently follows from hence, that each Faculty hath not its Workhouse in a distinct Apartment, and entire to itself alone; for then, assoon as any of these Ventricles gins to be disabled, that Faculty to which it belongs, must immediately cease, and could never more be exerted in any Degree at all.  
Some Persons have been of Opinion, 
How far the Reasonable Soul is Organical.  that the Reasonable Soul is not Organical; that is, that it can act separately and independently, and hath no need of any Corporeal Instrument to assist it in the Discharge of its Functions. And this Notion they have been more fond of, because they imagine it of consequence for proving the Immortality of the Soul. Now without engaging in a vast and dark Labyrinth of Dispute, about a Matter which we are incapable of knowing perfectly, this Question may be brought to a short Issue: For if we will but credit our own Eyes, and our own Experience, every Day gives us Demonstrations, which overthrow this Opinion, and establish the Contrary. It is certain that all Men have not equal Capacities, nor do they apprehend things, or argue upon them alike, but the Disparity is very great and visible between one Man and another. It is no less evident, that the same Person changes, and differs from himself; that his Reason is more clear, and perfect, and strong at one Time, and at one Age, in one Disposition of Body, and in one Circumstance of Fortune and Life, than it is in another. One Man can do nothing except he have Ease and Leisure; another requires Dangers and Difficulties to rouse him, and never thinks to purpose, till he be pressed hard, and driven to Extremities: A Third finds himself much more capable in Health than in Sickness: And a Fourth feels his Mind most vigorous and active, then when his Diseases and Weakness have reduced his Body lowest. The same Man at one Season excels in Judgement, and flags in his Fancy; so that One Faculty decays in proportion as Another improves. Now the most probable Account that can be given for all these Differences and Alterations, seems to be a difference in the State and Disposition of the Organs, which are to the Soul as Tools to the Artificer. Which way but this shall we answer for the strange Effects we see produced by Drunkenness, by the By't of a Mad Dog, by a high Fever, by a Blow upon the Head, by the Vapours that rise from the Stomach and annoy the Brain; and by several other Accidents which affect any of the Parts thereabouts? What Confusions do they make, how perfectly stupid, and childish, and frantic do Men grow upon them, lose their Memory quite, and feel their Heads turned upside down, their former Ideas eraced, their Judgement destroyed? All the Wisdom of Greece is not able to maintain itself against them; and if the Shock be very violent indeed, than it does not only disturb and enfeeble, but quite drive away the Soul, and constrain her to remove out of the Body. Now it is plain, that these Accidents are purely Corporeal, and consequently they cannot affect what is not so; they can never fly so high as the exalted and Spiritual Faculties of the Reasonable Soul; all that they can do is to vitiate the Organs, to put Them out of their Course, and intercept the usual Communications; and when This is once effected, the Soul can no longer act regularly; She may command, but They cannot obey; and if these Organs are sore bruised, and distorted very grievously, than She and They can no longer subsist together: The Lodging is no longer sit to entertain her, and she must be gone.  
Now I do by no means see, how this Opinion can be guilty of any Prejudice to that of the Immortality of the Soul; For first, We are not here enquiring what the Soul is, but how she operates, and what Laws of Action she is bound up to, while in Conjunction with a Mortal Body. And Secondly, The making Use of Corporeal Instruments, does by no Means prove the User to be Corporeal or Mortal. God, without all Question, is Immortal, and yet God himself does not think it below him to use such; and to proportion the Effects and Operations of his Providence to them. He produces Men of different Understandings and Parts, according to the Constitution of their Parents, and the Concurrence of other Natural Causes; nay, even according to the different Climate, and Country, and Air they are born in. For Greece and Italy have ever been observed to produce Men of quicker, and clearer Wit, than Muscovy and Tartary. And as God does in this Case, so does the Mind in others. It reasons better or worse, remembers more or less Faithfully, hath a more fruitful, or more barren Imagination, according as the Organs (which are the Corporeal Instruments appointed to serve it upon these Occasions) are better or worse disposed to do their Duty. Now the Brain is properly the Instrument of the Reasonable Soul, and therefore upon the due Temperament of This, a great deal must needs, indeed the Whole in a manner, will depend: That therefore shall be the next Thing we attempt to give an Account of.  
By this Temperament is to be understood the Mixture and Proportion of the Four Prime Qualities, 
Of the Temperament of the Brain.  Hot and Cold, Moist and Dry; or rather a Fifth Quality, which is, as it were, a Harmony resulting from a due Conjunction of all these together, like that Concord in Sounds, which arises from a Friendly Complication of different Notes. Now upon that Mixture of the Brain it is, that the State and the Operations of the Reasonable Soul depend. Only This is Man's great Unhappiness, that the Three Faculties, Understanding, Memory, and Imagination, do each of them require different, nay, contrary Temperaments, for their Exercise and Perfection. The Temperament proper for the Understanding is a Predominance of Dry; and this gives us some Account, how it comes to pass, that Persons far gone in Years, are more Intelligent and Judicious, than those that are Younger. For, besides the Advantages which Art, and Study, and Experience may give them; they have a Disposition to it from Nature; The Brain, as Men grow older, purifying itself from Excrementitious Humours, and growing dryer every Day: For the same Reason, in all likelihood, Melancholy Persons, and those under Affliction, and Want, and Persons that are fasting (it being an Effect of Grief and Fasting to keep the Brain dry) may be better disposed to think; and qualified to do it to good Purpose, as well as some of them are necessitated by their Circumstances, to apply themselves to it. This is farther observable in Brutes; Aunts, and Bees, and Elephants, as they are the Driest, so they are the most capable, and ingenious of any; and those of a moist Constitution, (the Swine for Instance) are Stupid and Senseless. Thus again in Men; Those of Southerly Countries, excel in Wisdom, from the Drought of their Brain, and their inward Heat being moderated, by that of a Violent Sun without, which exhales it.  
The Temperament best accommodated to the Memory is Moist; and hence it is, that Children are more ready and perfect in it, than old People; hence it is most apt and faithful in a Morning, when the Brain hath been well refreshed, and throughly moistened by a good Night's Sleep; hence also the Inhabitants of the Northern Climates, have the strongest Memories, for These are under a moister Air, by Means of their great Distance from the Sun. But this Moisture must not be so mistaken as if I meant, that the Temper of the Memory is fluid, like Water; but rather such a Moisture as we may observe in Air, Glue, Grease, or Oil; something of such a Substance and Continuity of Parts, as may both take the Impression easily, and keep it a great while; as we see Pictures do, that are laid in Oil Colours.  
The Temperament sittest for the Imagination, is Hot, which makes Distracted, Hare-brained, and Feverish People, excel all others in bold and lofty Flights of Fancy. Thus Poetry, Divination, and all that depends upon Imagination, were always thought to proceed from a sort of Fury and Inspiration. This Faculty is for the same Reason most Vigorous in Youth and the Flower of our Age: The Poets accordingly flourished at these Years, and Almighty God, (who even in Supernatural Influences and Effects, made great use of Natural Causes, and did as little Violence as was possible, to a Course of his own Instituting) ordered the Matter so, that most of the Prophets should do so too. The same Reason holds likewise for those Middle Regions, and more Moderate Climates, between the North and the South, where Men are observed to excel in those Arts and Sciences, which are derived from the Strength and Sprightliness of Fancy.  
Now, from this great inequality of these Mixtures and Proportions, it frequently happens, that a Man may be tolerably well to pass in all these Three Faculties, and not arrive at an Excellence in any one of them; as also, That a Man may be conspicuous, and exceeding well Accomplished in one of these Respects, and yet very Wanting and Despicable in the other Two. It is manifest, the Temperaments adapted for the Memory, and the Understanding, are the most Distant and Contrary in the World; for what can be more so than, Moist and Dry? That of the Imagination does not seem so remote from the Rest, for Hot will agree well enough with Moist or Dry, and is far from being Incompatible with either; and yet, though these seem so consistent in Nature, we see them very seldom reconciled in Fact; For those who are esteemed most Excellent in Imagination, are generally found very Weak both in Point of Memory and Understanding; and thought near a Kin to Fools or Madmen. The Reason whereof may possibly be This. That the Heat, which feeds and exalts their Imagination, wastes and exhausts that Moisture, with which the Memory is assisted; and also the finest and most volatile of Those Spirits, of which that Dryness Partakes, which is serviceable to the Understanding; and the Faculty, when destitute of these, grows flat and heavy. So that in Effect This is an Enemy to both the other Temperaments, and Experience shows it to be Destructive of them.  
From all that hath been said we may plainly see, that the Principal Temperaments, which serve, 
But Three of them.  assist, and set the reasonable Soul on working, and which distinguish the Excellencies of the Mind, according to its Faculties, are Three, and cannot exceed that Number. For Cold which is the Fourth, is of no significance at all; Hot, and Moist, and Dry only, can contribute to men's Ingenuity. The Other is a sluggish, unactive Principle, and, instead of quickening, does only benumb and stupefy the Soul, and put a Stop to all its Motions. Therefore, when in reading some Authors, we find them recommending Cold, as of use to the Understanding, and saying, that Men of a Cold Brain, such as those of Melancholy Complexions, or under the Southern Climes, are Prudent, Wise, Ingenious and the like; we must not there understand the Word Cold in its Natural and most received Sense, but interpret it of a large Abatement and more moderate Degree of Heat only. For nothing can be more opposite to Wisdom, and a good Understanding, than that Excess of Heat, which yet to the bettering of the Imagination, and refining the Fancy would be of great Importance. And according to the three Temperaments, of the Brain, there are three corresponding Faculties of the Reasonable Soul. But both the One, and the Other of these admit of several Degrees; and may be variously subdivided, and distinguished.  
The Principal Offices, to be discharged by the Understanding, and the different Qualifications of Men, 
The Faculties Subdivided.  with regard to it, are Three; To conclude truly, To distinguish nicely, and To choose wisely. The Sciences that fall properly under this Faculty, are School-Divinity; The Speculative Part of Physic, Logic, Natural and Moral Philosophy.  
The Memory hath likewise Three Qualities to be distinguished by. For there is One sort of Memory, which easily receives Impressions, and easily loses them again. A Second, which quickly remembers, and seldom or never forgets; and a Third, where the Impression is hard to be made, and yet is presently worn out again. The Sciences proper to this Faculty are Grammar, and the Theory of the Civil Law, Dogmatical Divinity, Cosmography, and Arithmetic.  
The Imagination abounds in Distinctions, and Differences are occasioned by it, much more than either the Memory or the Understanding is capable of. To this belong, after a more peculiar manner, Fanciful Inventions, Pleasant Conceits, Witty Jests, Sharp Reflections, Ingenious Repartees; Fictions and Fables, Figures and Comparisons, Propriety and Purity of Expression; and in a Word, All that Quaintness, and Elegance, and Easiness, which adorns Conversation, and becomes the Character of a Man of Sense, and Good Breeding. And therefore we may range under this Division, Poetry, Eloquence, Music, Correspondence, Harmony, and Proportion.  
Now, from hence it appears, that Sprightliness, 
The Properties of the several Faculties.  Subtlety, Readiness of Parts, and all that which commonly goes by the Name of Wit, is to be imputed to the Warmth of Imagination. Solidity, Mature Judgement, and Truth to the Dryness of the Understanding. The Imagination is Active, and Blustering, and Busy; keeps all about it awake, and sets the other Faculties on work. The Understanding is a grave, sedate, and severe Action; The Memory acts not at all, but is purely Passive; and the manner of these Operations, seems to be thus. In the First Place, the Imagination collects together the Ideas and Figures of Things, not only such as are present by the conveyance and ministry of the five Senses; but those that are absent too, by the Assistance of that Inward and Common Receptacle, called the Sensorium commune, where the Forms of them lie deposited. The Next thing in Order is to represent these to the Understanding (if that be thought fit) and then this Faculty takes them into Consideration; examines, digests, and makes a Judgement of them. When That is over, the Imagination lays them up carefully to be preserved in the Memory; (as a Man takes down a Memorandum in his Table-Book) that so they may be consulted, and made use of again, when any future Occasion shall call for them. Or if the Imagination be not so disposed, than she commits these things into the Memory's Custody, without referring them to the Understanding at all, and so the Second Branch of this Operation is wholly Superseded. Now this Account informs us, that the Acts of Recollection, Representing to the Intellectual Faculty, laying up in the Memory, and drawing out those Stores again for Use, are all of them Operations of the Imaginative Faculty. So that That Common Repository, the Internal Sense, (Reminiscence, as it is called) and Fancy, come within the Compass of This, and are not (as some pretend) Powers of the Mind, distinct and separate from it. And consequently there is nothing in those Operations, that should oblige us to quit the former Division, or allow more Faculties of the Reasonable Soul, than the Three already insisted upon.  
The Common People, who (to give them their due) are very seldom in the right, have an high Esteem, 
The Faculties compared together.  and make a marvellous to do with Memory, extolling This infinitely above the other Two; The only Reason whereof seems to be, that this hath more of Show, is more pretending and forward, and makes a greater Noise in Conversation. Hence it is, that a Man whose Memory is well stored, is usually reputed a great Scholar; and that to pronounce one a Person of good Parts, you look no farther than his having a good Memory; as if Learning were to be preferred before Wisdom, which indeed comes infinitely short of it; and this Faculty from whence it is furnished, is the least valuable of all the Three; For it is consistent with great Folly, and insufferable Impertinence; and very rarely to be met with in any great Degree, where the Person excels in Understanding and Wisdom; for the Temperaments indeed from whence they result, are contrary to one another. From this vulgar Error, I suppose the improper Methods of teaching Children, to have taken their Rise; it being the Custom of Country-Schools almost every where, to follow them close with Tasks to be got by Heart (as they call it) that so they may be able to repeat, and quote things readily out of Books. Thus they stuff their Memories full, and load them with the Riches of other Men, without taking any care to awaken and whet the Understanding; to form or to refine the Judgement: Which, after all, is the most necessary part of Instruction, to show them the true worth of their Natural Faculties, to draw out the Stores and Abilities of their own Mind, and by the Exercise and Improvement of their Home-Growth, to render them considerate, and wise, and qualified for all manner of Business. Accordingly we see, that many of your Scholars, which carry all Aristotle and Cicero in their Heads, are mere Prigs and Puts, and incapable of any management at all; and, that, (generally speaking) the World is led by the Nose, and all the weightiest Affairs of Governments entrusted with Men of little or no Learning. Which yet no doubt is of infinite Advantage, and would render even the prudentest and cunningest Politicians, yet more capable than they are, if wisely instilled, and well used. But then they must not (as the way of the World is) value themselves upon Other Men's Wisdom; nor think it their Own, because they remember it; but make it so, by digesting what they read, incorporating it with their own Thoughts, refining and improving upon it, and knowing how to convert it to the Use and Benefit of themselves and others. But to return; All Wise Men have given the Preference to the Understanding; and admit it to be the most excellent and choicest Piece of Furniture belonging to the Mind. If this moves right, all the rest goes true, and the Man is wise; and if this be false, the whole Movement is out of Course. Imagination is the Second in Dignity; and Memory is the Last and Lowest.  
The following Similitude may perhaps contribute something to our apprehending the true State of these Faculties, and the different Circumstances and Relations they are in, more perfectly. 
An Image of the Three Faculties.  The Reasonable Soul than cannot be more painted to the Life, than by forming an Idea of it to ourselves, as a Court of Judicature. Now in every such Court there are Three Degrees and Orders of Persons concerned: The Uppermost and most Honourable Order is the Bench of Judges; and here there is little or no Noise, but a World of Business and Dispatch: For they proceed calmly and quietly; and without any Hurry or Passion, try Causes, decide Controversies and Claims, make Decrees, and give the Final Determination to all Matters brought before them: This carries a very lively resemblance to the Understanding, which is the highest, the most honourable, and the judging Faculty of the Soul. The Second is the Bar, where the Council and the Attorneys are placed; and here is a world of Clutter, and Bawling, and Noise, but nothing done; for they can bring nothing to an Issue; They make no Orders nor Awards, pronounce no Sentences: All Their Business is only to discuss Matters, to plead the Cause, and to lay it before the Judge. This is a lively Picture of the Imagination, which is a loud, a blustering, and a restless Faculty; never lies still, not even then, when the Soul seems perfectly bound up in the profoundest Sleep; but is eternally buzzing about the Brain, like a boiling Pot; and this can never fix, or come to a peremptory Resolution in any thing. The Third and last Degree is that of the Notaries, and Registers, and Clerks; where there is neither Noise nor Action: It is no part of their Concern which way things go; they are purely Passive; and all they have to do, is to make Entries of what passes in Court, and to take Care that the Records be faithfully kept, and ready to be produced upon occasion. This gives us no ill Idea of the Memory, and its Office.  
The Action or Employment of the Soul is Knowledge or Understanding; 
It's Operations.  and this is of Universal extent: For the Mind is a House open to every Guest; a Subject ready to receive any Impression. As the Philosophers say the Primitive Matter is disposed to be moulded into any Forms; or as a Looking-Glass receives and reflects all Faces; so this Soul is capable of considering all things indifferently, be they Visible or Invisible, Universals or Particulars; Objects of Sense or not, the Understanding is in at All. But (if we may be allowed to argue from the vast, and almost infinite Diversity of Opinions, and the still growing Doubts upon this Matter) it is acquainted with itself the least of any thing. This Knowledge is but dim and indirect: It is attained by Reflection only, and the Knowledge of other things brought home, and applied to itself: By which it feels, that it does understand, and thence infers a Power and Capacity of this kind. This seems to be the Method, by which our Minds attain to the Knowledge of Themselves. Almighty God, who is the Sovereign Mind, knows Himself first, and all things else in Himself: But Man, who is the last and lowest of all the Intellectual World, inverts that Order quite, and discerns other things before he can come to any Knowledge of Himself; for His Mind is in Contemplation of Other Objects, (like the Eye in a Looking-Glass) which cannot work upon itself without the help of a Medium, and sees nothing at Home, while the Vision is continued in a straight Line, but can do it by Reflection only.  
But the great Difficulty to be enquired into upon this occasion, 
The manner of it.  concerns the Manner of Operation, and by what Method the Soul attains to the Knowledge of Things. The most received Opinion is that derived from Aristotle, importing, That the Mind understands and is instructed by the Senses: That it is naturally and of itself, a perfect Blank, a clean White Paper; and that whatever is written in it afterwards, must be dictated by the Senses, and cannot be conveyed thither any other way.  
But first of all, This is far from being Universally true; for, (as was hinted before, and the Point referred hither for a farther Disquisition) there have been great Authorities of Philosophers, that the first Seeds of all Sciences, and Virtues, and necessary Knowledge, are originally sown in our Minds, and grafted there by Nature; so that Men may if they please, live very comfortably, and grow Rich out of their own Stock; and, provided they take but a little care to cultivate and cherish the kindly Beginnings, the Harvest will not fail to be plentiful, and abundantly to reward their Pains.  
Again; That Opinion seems highly injurious to God and Nature, and taxes them with unreasonable Partiality: For upon these Terms the Rational Soul is more sparingly dealt with, and left in a much worse Condition, than either the Vegetative, or Sensitive, or any other Creature whatsoever: For all These, as hath already been observed, exercise their Functions readily, and are sufficiently instructed by their own Native Endowments, in all things necessary for their Purpose. Thus Beasts apprehend several Things without Experience, and the Discipline of Sense: They make Inferences, so far as their Case requires, and conclude Universals from Particulars: From the sight of One Man they know the Humane Shape wheresoever they see it again; 
See Adu. upon Chap. XXIV.  they are forewarned to avoid Dangers, even while invisible; and to follow after That which is agreeable and beneficial to Themselves, and their Young: And would it not be a Reproach, or scandalous Blunder and Absurdity in Nature, if this Noble, this Divine Faculty, should have no Provision at all of its own, but sent about a begging, and depend for mere Necessaries upon so mean, so frail Relief, as what the Senses are able to give?  
Once more; How can we perceive that the Understanding should go to School to the Senses, and be taught by Them, who are not able to teach themselves? What precious Masters are these, whose utmost Knowledge goes no deeper than barely the Accidents and Outsides of Things? For, as to the Natures, Forms, and real Essences of them, they know nothing at all of the Matter. And if This be the Case of Individual Substances, much less are they capable of penetrating into Universals, the dark and profound Mysteries of Nature, and all those things which do not affect the Sense at all.  
Besides; If all Knowledge were derived from the Senses, the Consequence of this (one would think) should be, That They, whose Senses are the quickest, strongest, and most discerning, would always be the Persons most conspicuous for Ingenuity, and Learning, and Skill in Reasoning. But we frequently see it happen just contrary; that such People are the dullest, most stupid, and most incapable of all others. Nay, some Persons have thought their Bodily Senses rather an Obstruction than any Advantage to their Improvement: And upon that Account have wilfully deprived themselves of them, that so the Soul might be more expedite and free, and do her Business without Distraction, when the Avocations and Disturbance of Sensible Objects were taken out of the way.  
Now if this Matter be as I have represented it; you will ask perhaps, Why these things are not always performed by the Soul, and why not by every Man alike? What hinders that all should not be equally Wise and Knowing; but especially, why it should lie dormant, without being reduced into act; Or, if it do act, how comes it to pass that its Operations are not always equal, that it goes about its Duty feebly, and performs its Functions much more lamely and imperfectly at one Season than at another? This is the Case even of the Wisest and most Capable Persons; and some are so miserably stupid, that the Intellectual Soul seems never to exert itself at all. Where it does, the Vegetative Soul is vigorous and active in Youth, and very weak in Old Age: It is then decayed, and spent, and cannot repair the Losses of Nature, (those of Teeth especially.) Which yet it does with the greatest Ease imaginable, in Children and Young People. The Reasonable Soul, quite contrary, is evidently weaker in Infancy, and Youth, and cannot exert itself then, as it does afterwards in riper Years, and old Age: This also performs some sort of Actions in some sorts of Distempers, which it hath not power to do in time of perfect Health: and Others again there are performed in time of Health, which it is utterly incapacitated for, when the Body labours under a Distemper.  
Now all these Objections are insufficient: For, First of all, They who hold the Opinion I am now contending for, never pretend, that the Faculty and Power of Understanding is communicated to every Man in equal Proportions. They admit a very great Inequality; from whence that Ancient and Noble Aphorism became so usual in the Mouth of Philosophers, That the acting Intellect is given to very few; and this very Inequality they make use of, as an Argument to prove that Science does not proceed from Sense; since it is very manifest, according to what hath been urged already, that They who are most advantageously provided for in point of Sense, are oftentimes lest so in point of Learning and Wisdom.  
As to the Second part of the Objection, That these Functions are not always performed alike; The true Reason of this is certainly, The different Condition of those Instruments, which the Soul hath absolute occasion for, and constantly works by; for These neither are, nor can be at all times in the same Order and Disposition. Sometimes they are disturbed so as to be fit for no Business at all: And when they are not put out of their Course, by any accidental Interruption, yet, even in their Natural State, they are not qualified for all Business alike; nay they act in perfect Contrariety, and cross, and interfere with one another. To express this now in as few Words, and as clearly as the thing will bear:  
That Temperament of the Brain, which you have heard so much of already, is the next and immediate Instrument, by which the Soul is assisted and determined in her Actings. Now This is exceeding various and mutable; and at those Seasons when it serves well for one Function of the Soul, it obstructs and runs counter to another. In Youth it is Hot and Moist; and this Complication is extremely proper for strengthening the Vegetative Faculty; but it keeps the Rational one Weak and Low. On the other hand it is Cold and Dry in Aged People; and This is a convenient Temper for the Reasonable Soul, but highly prejudicial, and improper for the Vegetative. When this Temperament of the Brain is sound heated and refined by a high Fever, it is then accommodated to the Imaginative Faculty, and does Wonders in Invention and Fancy; but this very Condition disables the Intellectual Faculty, and is the most opposite that can be, to Mature Deliberation, and sound Wisdom and Judgement.  
It is no part of my Intention, by all this Discourse, to defraud the Senses of any part of the Commendation, which is their just due; but only to prevent their engrossing All, and assuming more than their due. 'Tis confessed, that the Mind reaps great Advantage, and is very conveniently served by the Senses; especially in the beginning of its Contemplations, the first Hints and Occasions, the Invention and new Discoveries of Things. But still we affirm, in vindication of the Mind's just Rights, that it does not depend upon the Senses entirely; that it is capable of Knowledge and Understanding; can reason and discuss Matters, infer and conclude, without the Senses: Whereas, on the contrary, all Knowledge proceeds from the Mind; and the Senses, when left to themselves, cannot make the least Progress, nor have one single Perception without it.  
It is farther observable, that the Mind proceeds in different Methods, and makes regular and gradual Advances in the Consideration of Things. Sometimes it proceeds by the Addition and Conjunction of Ideas: As first it conceives a Lion simply and directly, without attending to any of his Qualities: Then it adds the Idea of Strength to the former; and so having from some Effects had reason to believe that these will agree well together, and be true of each other, it concludes, that the Lion is Strong. This is what they call the Affirmative way of Arguing. Sometimes it proceeds by the Division of Ideas, which is what they term the Negative way. Thus it understands the Hare to be Fearful; for observing her to run away and hid herself, it concludes from this Timorous Behaviour, that a Hare is not Stout. Sometimes again we come to the Knowledge of things by Similitude, and the help of Comparison; and of Others by a Collection of several Ideas, Exaggerating and Amplifying these as we see fit. Other Methods there are, which need not be instanced in particularly, because any Man, from his own Observation, and what hath been already delivered here, may easily represent the manner of them to himself.   

CHAP. XIV. Of the Parts of the Humane Soul: And first, of the Understanding, which is its noblest Function; Imagination, Reason, Wit, Judgement, etc.  
THis Mind of Man is a dark and deep Abyss, an Intricate Labyrinth, full of Corners and Creeks, and secret lurking Places: Such is the Disposition and State of this exalted part of the Soul, distinguished by the Term of Intellectual, which consists of vastly many Parts, and Faculties, and Operations, and different Movements; each of which have their proper Names, and each of them infinite Doubts and Difficulties peculiar to them.  
The First part of its Office is commonly known by the Name of Apprehension or Imagination; and this consists in barely receiving and apprehending Images and simple Ideas; which is indeed in the Nature of a Passion and Impression, occasioned by the Presence of things that strike upon, or are represented to it.  
The next is that Power by which we feed upon those Ideas, to which the Imagination hath given such Entertainment; we handle and turn them about, chew the Cud, concoct and digest them; and this is Reason, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
The Third Action or Office, is what we commonly term Discourse or Ratiocination (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) And the Exercise of this Power consists in collecting or separating; joining together, or taking asunder the Ideas thus received; and, according as those are found to agree or disagree, adding some fresh to them, which is the Nature of Inferences, and Conclusions.  
The Doing all this with Ease, Nicety, and Readiness, searching deeper, and seeing farther into Matters than the World commonly do, is an Excellence known by the Name of Penetration, or Sagacity; (Ingenium) and the Persons happy in it, are distinguished, by the Titles of Ingenious, shrewd, sharp Men, Persons of good Parts, good Sense, and the like.  
The bringing things over again, allowing them a Second Thought, and applying the Touchstone to them over and over, that our Disquisition may be as Curious and Elaborate as possible, and nothing may pass, but what we are well assured is true Standard; this is Judgement; and its Business is to go upon sure Grounds, and come to no Resolutions, but such as one may abide by.  
The Effect Lastly of the Understanding, thus exercised is, as you perceive, Knowledge, Speculative Wisdom, and Resolution.  
The Action, which follows next, and is a Natural Consequence of such Knowledge and Resolution, is that of the Will, or Volition; by which the Mind reaches forward, and makes some Advances, towards the Object so known.  
Now, from hence I think it follows, that the Essence of all these Things is the same; and the Operations of them only are different. That is, Understanding and Imagination, and Reason, and Discourse, and Penetration, and Judgement, and Wisdom, and Resolution, are only so many several Methods, by which the same Mind moves, and exerts itself. And accordingly we find some Persons better disposed to one of these Ways, than they are to others; a Man for Instance, shall be Excellent for Quickness and readiness of Wit, and yet very Weak and Childish with Respect to his Judgement. Every Man hath all these Powers inherent in his Mind; but every Man hath them not alike, nor is alike qualified for the Exercise of them all.  
I am well enough content to hear the Characters and Lofty Commendations of the Soul of Man; 
Description of the Mind. It's Advantage.  and take great Delight in the Account of its Comprehension, and Sprightliness, and vast Abilities. I allow it to be called, the Image of the Living God; a Drop of the Fountain of Immortality, an Efflux of the Divinity, a Beam of Heavenly Light; That the Great Creator hath furnished it with Reason, by which, as by a living Rudder, this Vessel may steer its Course Regularly; That it is an Instrument most tightly Harmonious; That by it we contract a great Resemblance, and have the Honour of being near of Kin to God; and that therefore he hath so disposed the Seat and Situation of this Mind, that it should be in a perpetual Disposition of looking upward, to the Place of its Birth. In a Word, I agree, that there is nothing in this lower World truly Great, but only Man; and nothing truly Noble in Man, but his Mind; that if you come up to the utmost Height of this, you have climbed Higher than the very Heavens Themselves: These Characters I consent to very hearty, and they are such as the Schools, and Chairs of Philosophers and Divines have commonly abounded in; with a Design to render Men duly Sensible of the Dignity of their Nature, and to teach them not to debase or undervalue themselves.  
All This, I say, is admitted; but still with this Proviso, 
Its Disadvantages.  that Men would apply themselves withal, to examine, and come to a more distinct Knowledge of This Soul of ours. For upon a more intimate Acquaintance, we shall find, that it is capable of being made, and (as the Matter is commonly ordered) does actually prove an Instrument of much Danger and Mischief to ones self and others; a Terrible Disturber of the public Peace; which like a Common Juggler, with his Legerdemain, amuses you with 'Slight of Hand; and waits all Opportunities of putting the Cheat upon you. For in Truth all the Falsehood, and Forgery, and Mischief, that the World labours under, are owing purely to This, and have no other Original.  
The Bodies of Men, as infinitely various as we see them, 
Disterent sorts of Souls.  are yet less different from one another than their Souls are: In general, They may properly enough be reduced into Three Classes; each of which is capable of being subdivided again, and hath several Distinctions and Degrees comprehended under it. The Lowest of these are poor, and weak Souls, not much removed from that of Brutes. And this Defect may be caused, sometimes from the Faults and Imperfections of the Natural Constitution; Too great a Predominance of Cold and Moisture in the Temperament of the Brain; as Fishes, whose Composition is of this kind, are reckoned the Lowest and most wanting of all other Animals: This Infirmity is born with us, and derived from our Parents. Sometimes it is Chargeable upon accidental Failings afterwards: Want of due Care to awaken, and exert the Natural Powers, and letting them rust upon our Hands, till they Degenerate into Senselessness and Stupidity; Of these we can make no certain Account, nor can they be esteemed a certain Species; For in Truth they are not in a Condition to govern themselves as Men, but are Minors and Ignorants all their Days, and aught to be constantly kept under the Tuition and Care of others, Wiser than themselves. 
* 
Qui vigilans stertit.  
Mortua cui vita est prope jam vivo atque videnti.   They snore and nod with their Eyes open; and while they seem to live and act, are dead in the very midst of Life; Moving Carcases, and Men that walk in their Sleep. Such are the Boors and Common People, without Sense, without Apprehension, without Judgement. The Uppermost Class are those Elevated, and Singularly Excellent Souls, that seem rather to be Angels and Demigods, than Common and Mortal Men; Strong and Vigorous, and every way Accomplished; These are conspicuous, and admirable indeed, but so rare and few withal, that if we could bring all of them together that ever the World knew, this long and numerous Succession could not furnish enough to compose one Commonwealth. The Middle Sort, is Infinite in Partitions and Degrees, Men of moderate Endowments, refined from the Dregs, but still beneath the Cream and Flower of Humane Nature. And These take in much the greatest Part of Mankind. Of those Distinctions, there will come a more proper Time to treat more largely hereafter. In the mean while, we must try to give a more particular Description of this Soul, with Regard to its Nature, and Qualities, which yet are so intricate, and manifold, that it is as hard to represent them truly, as it would be to draw●a Picture like, from a Face that is always in Motion.  
First of all; We may observe, that it is perpetually in Action The Soul indeed cannot live Idle, 
It's Description. A perpetual Agent.  for to be doing somewhat is its very Essence; and hence it is, that for fear of lying quite Unactive, it employs itself in false and fantastical Imaginations, forms a Thousand wild Ideas, will study to cheat and deceive itself, and go directly contrary to its own Knowledge and Persuasion, rather than be out of Business. Like Fallow and neglected Grounds, which must always be kept sown with some Grain or other, if the Soil be Rich and Fruitful; otherwise they will provide themselves a Harvest, and put forth vast Crops of wild and noxious Weeds. Thus the Mind, if it be not set on Work, and kept close to some particular Subject, turns Vagabond, wanders and floats among a Thousand Whimsies; there is nothing so Foolish, or so Extravagant, but it will produce it. And if it be not fixed down, it is lost; for to be every where, is in Truth to be no where. Agitation is indeed the very Life and Beauty of the Soul, but then this Agitation ought to be directed and prescribed; found for it by another Hand, but by no means left to its own providing. Suffer it to go all alone, and on its own Head, it santers about and tires its self to no Purpose; languishes and grows Feeble. And yet the other Extreme is every whit as Dangerous; for if you hold it too high, and lay too much upon it, This is keeping the Bow always bend. Constant intense Thought, is what cannot be born; it strains and puts the Mind upon the Stretches, till at last it cracks, and breaks it.  
This Agent is also Universal, and in at every thing. 
An Universal Agent.  No Subject whatsoever, No Topick is out of its Compass; let the Farce be what it will, the Soul will have a Part in it, though it be never so low, or so extravagant. The vainest and most trifling Matter will serve its Turn to work upon, as well as that of the greatest Consequence and Weight; Things, which it knows not, nor hath any Comprehension of, as well as those, with which it is never so well acquainted. For even the being made Sensible, that it is out of a Man's Power to enter deep, and search things to the Bottom, and that in many, (in most Cases indeed) all the Knowledge we can have, is merely Superficial, and goes no farther than just the Shell, and Outside of Things; The very Coming to this Sense, I say, is a very brave and bold Stroke, and argues a Masterly Judgement. Learning, nay, Truth itself may be found in a Man that wants Judgement, and many may have a good Judgement too, who are unskilled in Learning and Books, and under some Mistakes, as to particular Opinions. But for a Man to see, and to acknowledge his own Ignorance and personal Defects; to pretend to no more than he really hath, and is; this single Quality argues so much Judgement, that there are few better Testimonies to be given of it.  
A Third Character very considerable in this Agent is, the Nimbleness of its Motions; whereby it traverses the whole World, and runs from the one End of it to the other, in a Moment of Time; 
Ready and quick in its Motions.  never standing still, never at rest; but fluttering about, and peeping and meddling every where. 
* Mobilis & inquieta mens homini data est; nunquam setenet; Spargitur vaga, quietis impatiens, novitate rerum laetissima; Non mirum ex illo coelesti spiritu descendit. Coelestium autem natura semper in motu est.  Man is endued with a busy, active, Mind; that never keeps at home; but expands and dilates itself; wanders every where, cannot bear any Rest, and is never so agreeably entertained as with Novelties, and fresh Objects. Nor is it strange; For this Mind of ours is descended from that Celestial Spirit above; and Motion, we know, is so natural there, that the Heavenly Being's, are never out of it. This mighty Quickness and Agility must be confessed in one respect Prodigious, and one of the most Miraculous Qualifications belonging to the Soul. But on the other their hand, it is very dangerous too; For Spirits so exceeding subtle and refined, are liable to great Inconveniences; and an Excellence of this kind is observed to be a mighty Disposition to Folly, and borders hard upon Madness, as you will hear by and by.  
Upon the Consideration of these Three Qualities it is that the Arguments for the Immortality of the Soul are usually grounded. Since Matter (which is corruptible by Nature) hath none of these; and what is not Material, no reason in Philosophy can evince to be Mortal. Now an Agent in perpetual Motion is very distant from Matter, to which Rest seems natural, since it neither does, nor ever can move itself. An unlimited and Universal Agent differs extremely from Matter, which is cramped and confined in all its Operations, and proper only for one, or a few; but always the same Matter can serve only some and the same determinate uses: And That again which is sudden and instantaneous, which is bounded by no Time, no Place, but carries its Thoughts to the most dist●nt Objects with equal Swiftness as to those that are nearest: This sure is most contrary to Matter, whose Motions are local and gradual, bound up by necessary Laws, and proportioned by the respective Distances of the several Objects. Consequently This Mind is something above Matter and Mortality, a Spark of Divine Fire, and the express Image of that Active and Omnipresent Spirit, which we call GOD.  
Now the Trade and constant Employment of this Soul, 
It's Employment.  is to be perpetually upon the seek, ferreting, and doubling, and hot in the pursuit of Knowledge, as of its proper Food. This Appetite and Hunger for the Truth, makes Men eternally prying, and curious, and inquisitive; which made the Greek Poets call Men 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a sort of Creature whose Thoughts and Inventions are always at work. Nor is there any End of our Inquiries; for they are circumscribed within no Bounds, nor regulated by any Forms and Measures. Doubts and Difficulties are the Sustenance we live upon; and the Principle within us is a perpetual Motion. The whole World is our School, and our Theme, and, which is particular to the Case now before us, We labour for labour's sake; The Chase and Pursuit is not so much our Toil, or our Diversion, as it is our Game, and our Prey: For the succeeding, or not succeeding in our Disquisition, is a thing of another and very different Consideration.  
But still, in the midst of all this busy Curiosity, it is rash, tumultuous, and disorderly, 
It's manner of working.  observes no certain Rules and Measures, but is eternally roving, and variable, and inconsistent with itself: 'Tis a perfect Nose of Wax, that bends every way, stretches itself to any length, is accommodated to all Forms, more supple and yielding than Water or Air. 
* Flexibili omni humore obsequentior, & ut Spiritus, qui omni Materiâ facilior, ut tenuior.  Thus justifying the Character given of it, that as a Spirit is more refined and subtle, so it is likewise more flexible and yielding than any the thinnest Matter whatsoever. Of this Theramenes his Shoe was the true Emblem, which fitted Feet of all Sizes. All it is at a loss for is, only for some Contrivance how to turn and change with some Appearance of Probability; for when This is once found, it moves every way, takes all sides, crosses and contradicts itself, and argues for Truth or Falsehood indifferently.  
Thus Reason sports wantonly, and invents or entertains Arguments for the widest and most distant Contrarieties. Nothing so extravagant, nothing so absurd, but hath found its Assertors and Abettors: And this not only in the fanciful Conceits of private Persons, but in the more general Sense, and Agreement of large Societies and Communities. Thus History tells us, that what is detested as Impious, Unjust, and Unnatural in one Country, hath been received with Veneration, and practised as highly Decent, and a Duty, nay even esteemed an Act of Religion in another. And there are not many Laws, or Customs, or Opinions, which we can say have universally obtained, or have been every where rejected. The Marriages of near Relations Some condemn as Incestuous; but Others have not only allowed, but recommended, nay in some Cases even enjoined them. The Murdering of Infants, and of Parents, when old and decrepit, and the having Wives in common, are now, and in our parts of the World, looked upon as barbarous and execrable; but the Worshippers of Moloch, we know, thought their Children the most acceptable Sacrifice; and if Herodotus, and some other Historians, say true, the Scythians thought the other not only innocent, but a Mark of Tenderness and Respect; and never pretended to any Propriety in a Marriagebed. When Dionysius offered Plato a rich Embroidered Robe, he refused it, with this Reason for his denial, That it was not fit for a Man to be so effeminately clothed; And yet Aristippus, another Philosopher, accepted it; and he had his Reason for That too, which was, That no External Habit could corrupt the Mind; and that the Soul might still be Masculine and Chaste, though the Body were attired in Clothes never so Soft and Effeminate. The Dialogue between this last Philosopher and Diogenes, each vindicating his own manner of Living, and reflecting upon the others that differed from him, is thus represented by Horace 
* 
Si pranderet olus patienter, Regibus uti  
Nollet Aristippus. Si sciret Regibus uti,  
Fastidiret olus, qui me notat—   Diog. 
If Aristippus patiently could dine  
On Herbs, he would the Courts of Kings decline.  Arist. 
If He that censures me, knew how to use  
The Courts of Kings, He would his Herbs refuse.  
Creech, Epist. XVII  When Solon was mourning, and full of lamentation for the Death of his Son, a Friend advised him to moderate his Passion, since Tears upon that occasion are unprofitable, and to no purpose; That very Consideration, says Solon, excuses my Excess of Grief; for what can justify a Man's Concern, what can provoke Tears so much as the Thought that all our Sorrow is Fruitless and Vain? Socrates' his Wife pretended this Aggravation of her Grief, that the Judges had condemned him unjustly: Nay sure, (replied he) if a Man must suffer, it is infinitely more eligible to die innocent, than to deserve Condemnation. One Philosopher tells you, That a Man is truly possessed of nothing which he is not prepared to lose. 
† In aequo enim est Dolor amissae rei, & Timor amittendae  For the Fear that a thing may be lost, is a Passion every whit as tormenting as the Concern for it when actually lost. Another, who passes for as Wise a Man as He, comes and tells you quite contrary; That the Uncertainty of what we have, and the Apprehension of its being taken away from us, heightens and gives a Relish to our Enjoyments, by disposing us to hold the Blessings faster and closer to our Hearts, and rendering us more affectionate and tender of them. A Cynic begged of Antigonus, that he would bestow a Drachm of Silver upon him; No, says the King, So small a thing is not a Present fit for a Prince to give: Then, Sir, be pleased to give me a Talon: Nor that neither, says Antigonus; For a Talon is a Sum as much too great for a Philosopher to receive. A certain Person was extolling a King of Sparta for his exceeding great Goodness and Clemency; and the Instance he gave of it, was, That he was kind even to the Wicked and Unworthy: And this argued a great Degree of Goodness in him. So far from that, says another, that according to this Account he is no Good Man, for no Prince can be so, who is not severe to the Wicked. Thus you may observe, how many different Faces Reason puts on, and what a Two-edged Sword it is, which with dextrous Management will cut both ways. 
* Ogni Medaglia ha' il suo riverso.  Every Medal hath its Reverse, says the Proverb. There is nothing said, but hath somewhat to be said against it, says the soundest Philosophy; and a Man might demonstrate the Truth of it upon any Subject in the World.  
Now this great Variety and Flexibility may be imputed to several Causes: It may come from that perpetual Flux of Humours, and variable Constitution of the Body, which is so great, so constant, that a Man is never exactly the same in this respect at any two times of his whole Life. It may be charged upon that infinite Variety of Objects that offer themselves to his Contemplation; It may proceed from the Temper of the Air, the Difference of Wether, of Climates and Seasons; for, as was observed before, 

† 
Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse  
Jupiter auctiferà lustravit lampade terras.   In each Man's Breast that Weathercock, the Mind,  
Moves with the Rack, and shifts with every Wind.  And a Thousand other external Causes may contribute to it. But if we come nearer home, and look within, much may be laid upon the several sorts of Motion, which the Mind is put into, both by its own natural and constant Agitation, and by the different Impressions, which the Passions make upon it. Much also may be argued from the different manner of the Object's being represented to it, according to the different Prospects taken of them: For in this respect it happens to the Eye of the Mind, as it does to that of the Body, that no two Persons see the same thing exactly, and in all respects alike. Their Situation, their Organs, and infinite other little unobserved Accidents there are, that make some, though perhaps not so great a Diversity as to be discerned in the Act of Vision. Besides; every thing we know hath different Glosses and Faces, and is capable of being considered under different respects; which was Epictetus' meaning, when he said, That every thing hath two (he might very truly have said a great many) Handles. But after all, nothing adds more to this Ambiguity, and variety of Opinions, than that Spirit of Contradiction and Dispute, and a vain Affectation of Wit, generally predominant in the World, which lets nothing pass quietly in Conversation; and accounts it a Reflection upon one's Parts, not to have somewhat to say by way of Repartee and Objection, though never so contrary to Truth, and sometimes even to the Person's own Judgement too. And hence it is frequent for such People to take contrary Sides; for their Business is not so much to advance an Opinion, or to urge what is really Argument and Good Sense, as to show their Talon in opposing what any Body else shall say.  
From hence it comes to pass, that the Mind obstructs itself in its Business, like Silkworms that are entangled in Webs of their own spinning: For while it reaches forward, and expects to attain some distant Truth, and is led on in this Hope by I know not what imaginary Probabilities; in the midst of his Course, up start some fresh Difficulties, and these multiply and cross the way upon the Man, and so by putting him upon a new Scent, carry him off from (his first Design, till he is quite intoxicated, and bewildered in the Maze of his own Thoughts.  
The End of all this anxious Pursuit is twofold; That which is more general, 
Truth, its End, but not attainable.  and more natural indeed, is Truth: For of all the Desires that we feel ourselves moved with, there is not any of them more closely interwoven with our Nature, than the Desire of Truth: It is with great Eagerness and Diligence that we try all the Means capable of leading us to the Knowledge of it; but alas! our utmost Attempts are short and insufficient; for Absolute Certainty is not a Prize allotted to us; nor does it condescend to be taken, and possessed by any the most assiduous Humane Soul. Truth lodges in the Bosom of God; there is its Retreat and proper Apartment; Men understand not any thing in its utmost Perfection; We know in part, and here we see through a Glass darkly, says the Fountain of all Truth. We turn and tumble Objects about, and grope like Men in the Dark for probable Reasons; but these are to be found every where; and Falsehood as well as Truth hath somewhat to be alleged in its behalf. We are born indeed to search and seek for Truth, but the Enjoyment of it seems to be a Blessing reserved for some greater and more exalted Powers than any that Mortals are endued with. That is the Happiness of Being's above us at present, and is reserved for Mankind in a future State, till he be purified from the Dross of Matter, and Flesh, and Infirmity; and the Clouds that now hang before us, and dim our Sight, be scattered by Clear and Everlasting Day. At present the Difference between one Man and another, is not who reaches the Goal, and gains the Prize, and who not; but who is distanced, and who not; who runs best, and makes the nearest Approaches to that which none of us All can come up to. If at any time it happens that a Man in the study of Nature fixes upon Truth, This is more by a lucky Hit than otherwise; and his good Fortune is to be extolled as much as his Industry; and when he hath it, 'tis odds if he can keep it; for many times a Man suffers it to be wrested out of his Hands again by Sophisms, and Delusions, and contrary Appearances, for want of being Master of his Point, and able to distinguish Truth from Falsehood, and Reality from the Counterfeit. Errors are entertained by the same way that Truth is; the Passage by which both enter our Souls, is one and the same; The Methods made use of for discovering it, are Reason and Experience: And both These are extremely weak and defective, floating and uncertain, hard to fix, and changeable upon every slight occasion, when we think they are fised. The great Argument of Truth is That of Universal Consent. But what will all this amount to, when a Man hath considered, what a vast Majority of Fools there are, and how very few Wise Men in the World? And again, To any one that observes how Opinions spread, and become general: Men take them from one another, as they do Diseases, by Infection: And Applause is that Breath that corrupts the Air, and bears about the Venom: This Applause again is given commonly blindly and inconsiderately, by them who never examine into the true Merits of the Cause; and by them too, who if they do pretend to examine, are not capable of judging in the Case. And thus, when some few have begun the Dance, the rest have nothing to do but to fall in with the Tune, and follow them that lead it up of Course.  
The other End aimed at by the Mind, is Invention; 
Invention.  which if it have less of Nature, yet hath more of Ambition and bold Pretention in it: This is aspired to, as its highest Point of Honour, that which makes most Show to the World, and contributes most to its Reputation; That which it looks big with, and thinks the liveliest Image of the Divine Nature: It is this particular Accomplishment, to which all those noble Works have owed their Original, which have filled the World with Transport and Wonder. And those that have been of Public Use among them, have even Deified their Authors, and immortalised their Names. What Renown have some gained, that were mere Curiosities, only for being eminent in their Kind, though no Benesit at all accrued to Mankind by their means? Such as Zeuxis' Vine, Apelles' Venus, Memnon's Statue, the Colosse at Rhodes, Archytas' Wooden Pigeon, the Sphere of Sapores King of Persia, and infinite others. Now the Excellence of Art and Invention seems to consist not only in a good Imitation of Nature, but in outdoing it. This often happens in particular Instances; for no Man nor Beast seems ever to have been so tightly form in all its Parts, nor the Proportions of any one and the same Body, to have met together of Nature's Composition, so exact as these Artists have delineated, and represented them in Their Pieces. There are likewise several Improvements and Exaltations of Nature, in producing and compounding those things by Art, which Nature alone never produces. This is plain from the Mixtures of Simples and Ingredients, which is the proper Business for Art to exercise itself in; the Extraction of Spirits and Oils, and Distillation of Waters, and compounding of Medicines more refined, more powerful and efficacious, than any Nature furnishes us with. And yet after all, These things are not so wonderful, nor do they commend Humane Wisdom and Industry so highly, as the generality of the World are apt to imagine: For, if we will pass that Judgement in this Matter, which is agreeable to Truth and Duty, and pay a just Deference and Acknowledgement to the First Author, These are but Imitations, and not properly Inventions; They are Improvements, but they only promote and perfect what God hath first revealed. And what we commonly value and extol as our own Original Contrivance, is nothing more than observing the Works of Nature, arguing and concluding from what we find there, and then reducing those Observations into Practice. Thus Painting and Optics were first rude and imperfect Hints, taken from Shades; and the Perfection they are now in, consists only in a due, and proper, and beautiful Mixture of Colours, which makes those Shades. The Art of dialing comes from the Shadows cast by Trees; and what they do in our Fields, we do upon our Planes; They are Nature's Measure of the Sun's Motion, and the Gnomon is Ours. Sculpture, and Engraving of Seals, and Characters, and Ciphers, seems to be derived from the particular Marks, and Figures, and Emboss found in Precious Stones. And if This be allowed, the result of all our Boasts is very poor; for it all terminates here, That Man (in truth, and strictly speaking) hath invented nothing, but God and Nature give the Hints and first Draughts of all, and We improve, and by degrees refine upon them.  
If all that went before be true, 
The Dangers it exposes us to.  we easily perceive to what Rashness and Error the Mind of Man is subject, and how great the Dangers are which it exposes every one of us to; but those Men above all the rest, in whom it is more sprightly and vigorous than ordinary: For, since the Nature of it is perpetual Agitation, since its Motions are so free and unconstrained, and since all kind of Objects shall within its Contemplation; since it refuses to be bound up, or directed by any certain Forms and Measures; and upon all Occasions is so bold in the Use of its Native Liberty, without submitting to be captivated and controlled by any thing: The common and natural Essect of this is, to shake and dissettle Opinions generally received, and already established, and to complain of all those Rules by which Men endeavour to regulate and restrain it, and check those Extravagancies which some Men call Free-Thinking, as an unjust Tyranny and Usurpation upon Nature, and a Yoke which every Man hath a right to break. Hence it pretends a Privilege of taking nothing for granted, but assumes a Power of examining every thing; and pronounces the greatest part of these Notions which are entertained and approved by the generality of the World, to be no better than Vulgar Errors, ridiculous and absurd Prepossessions. It finds some appearance of Reason on every side; and because nothing above a bare Probability is to be found, it believes nothing certain. Some Notions may have more, and some less; but all have some Allegations in their Favour: And by indulging these sort of Ambiguities, it is to be feared, that at last Men are lost in a Labyrinth, give All up, and sit down in Doubt and Scepticism. That thus it often hath happened is too manifest; and as evident, that this is commonly the Disease of warm and witty Men, who trust to their own Sufficiency, and have brisker Parts than their Neighbours; (such as, 
Par. II.  according to our former Scheme, may deserve a place toward the upper part of the middle Class of Souls.) For such as these, we commonly find by experience, are more lose in their Principles, more particular in their Opinions, more extravagant and disorderly in their Manners, than any other sort of Men whatsoever. There are but very few of this Constitution, sit to be left to their own Conduct; or who know how to manage their Abilities to their own Safety and Advantage, and how to let their Judgements run beyond the common established Opinions, without plunging out of their Depth, and paying dear for their Rashness. A great and sprightly Wit, well tempered with Solidity and Discretion, is now so hard to be found, that it is almost a Miracle among Men. For This is an Edged-Tool, and apt to do great Mischief, if it be not in a very Wise Man's Hand: 'Tis like a nimble Sailor without Ballast, whose Swiftness does but hasten its Ruin, and drive it so much the sooner upon Rocks and Shelves. And if History be enquired into, all the Disorders in the State, Heresies in the Church, Revolts in Armies, Parties and Factions of every kind, will be generally found to have taken their Rise from such Authors as These. 
* Magni errores non nisi ex magnis ingeniis; nihil Sapientiae odiosius acumine nimio.  Great Errors (says one) have never sprung from any but great Wits; Nothing is more prejudicial, more detestable to true Wisdom, than too much Smartness of Parts. No doubt That Man hath a better time on't, lives longer, enjoys more Ease and Happiness, and is better qualified for Government, (says Thucydides) who is but moderately, or not so much as moderately, provided in point of Natural Parts, than He, who hath a very Noble and Transcendent Elevation of Soul: For This Temper commonly is good for nothing, but to create Trouble and Torment, and never let one's self, nor others, live in quiet. It is observable, that the dearest Friends, when they fall out, make the Bitterest and most Irreconcilable Enemies: And, that the soundest Health, and most vigorous Constitutions, are subject to the acutest and most mortal Diseases; and our Minds do so far sympathise with our Bodies, that Those of them, whose Operations are more quick and subtle than ordinary, are of all others most exquisite in their Follies, and have the strongest propension to Madness and Extravagance. Wisdom and Folly may be said to dwell pretty near one another; There is but a short Turn between them; The Behaviour of distracted People plainly shows it. Philosophy tells us, the same predominance of Humours disposes to both; for each abounds in Melancholy. And sure there is no Folly comparable to That, which we find is the effect of Nice and Subtle Wisdom. This moved Aristotle to affirm, That Nature never made a great Soul without an Alloy of Folly; and Plato upon the same Account declared, That it was a vain Attempt for a Man of good Judgement, and sound Sense, to knock at the Door of Poetry; That was not a Place for such as him to be admitted into; The Solidity of his Judgement would hinder the Soaring of his Fancy. And upon this Consideration it is, that the most skilful and celebrated Poets have not always thought it necessary to submit to Rules, but approve of extravagant Flights, and the giving one's self a Lose now and then. Thus we may understand those known Sayings, 
* Insanire jucundum est. Dulce est desipere in loco. Non potest grande & sublime quicquam nisi mota mens, & quamdiu apud se est.  It is pleasant to fly out. 
Creech, Hor. Ode XII. Lib. IU.  'Tis decent sometimes to be vain. While the Mind continues itself, its Performances are mean: Great and Noble Thoughts require a vehement Agitation to give them Birth.  
Upon this account, 
The necessity of restraining it  They were certainly in the right, who have set strong Barriers and Boundaries about the Soul. The necessity of curbing and fettering it with all manner of Restraints, with the Articles and Precepts of Religion, with the Authority of Laws and Customs, the Rules and Sciences of Learning, the Promises of Reward, and Threaten both in This and a Future State; This Necessity, I say, hath been well considered both by God and Man; And great indeed it is; for notwithstanding all these Checks, the Soul hath its Frolicks and Flyings-out still; and in these Humours it leaps over, and bursts through all; so exceeding fierce and intractable, so headstrong and self-conceited is it naturally: And therefore Art must manage, and make it tame, for Force is to no purpose at all. 
† Naturâ contumax est Animus humanus, in contrarium atque arduum nitens; sequiturque facilius quam ducitur, ut generosi & nobiles equi melius facili fraeno reguntur.  The Mind of Man (says Seneca) is naturally stiff and rebellious, continually bending the wrong way, and bearing hard upon the Bit; and is easier led than driven, as high-mettled Horses are better ridden with a Snassle than with a Curb. It is a much safer Course to keep it under the Custody of a Guardian, to sooth and gently lay this indiscreet Minor asleep, than to let him have his Head, and ramble abroad at his own Pleasure, and go his own Pace. For, if the Mind be not very regular and prudent, as well as very lively and strong, (the Conjunction of which Qualities make that happy Disposition of Souls, of the first and highest Order) or if it be not weak, and tender, and somewhat dull of Apprehension, (which were said to be the Characters of the last and lowest Set) there is great hazard of its losing and ruining itself by the Freedom it takes of Examining and judging Things, and submitting to no Prescription or Authority. And therefore very expedient it is, that it should be put under some Consinement; and if it go abroad, that it be duly and conveniently equipped: For there is greater need of a Clog, than of Wings; and of a straight Rein, than of a Spur: The Advice of Phoebus to his Son; 

* 
Parce puer Stimulis, & fortiùs utere Loris.—  Ovid.  Son, spare the Whip, and strongly use the Rein;  
They of their own accord will run too fast,  
'Tis hard to moderate their flying haste.  That Advice is necessary here too; otherwise This, like another Phaeton, and his Steeds ungoverned, would set the World on Fire. The Prevention of that Inconvenience, is what hath been chief aimed at by all those Great Men, who have either modelled Mankind into particular Societies at first, or devised Laws for them ever since. And this sort of Men are the very Persons, with whom both the Founders and the Governors of States have been most of all perplexed. For the common People, and those of meaner Capacities, are generally more Peaceably disposed, than those whom Wit and Parts make Thoughtful and Busy, and consequently Factious and Troublesome. The general Genius of a People is very Remarkable to this Purpose; for in the single City of Florence, who are a Sharpwitted People, there have been more Seditions, and Civil Confusions, within the Compass of Ten Years, than have been known among all the honest dull Swisses and Grisons for above Five Hundred Years together. And just so it is with particular Persons in the same Community: They that have but a bare Competency of Understanding, are generally the honestest Men, the best Subjects; more flexible, and tractable, more contented to submit to the Laws, to be commanded by their Superiors, to hearken to Reason, and be governed by it, than these brisk and discerning Sparks, whose Parts and Penetration are above being controlled by Power or Persuasion, and put them upon new Hazards and Projects, and will not let them content themselves with their own Business, and sleep in a whole Skin. So very wide a Difference there is between Wit and Wisdom.  
The Mind hath likewise its Defects, Decays and Diseases, as well as the Body, and indeed the Number of these is greater, 
The Defect, of the Mind.  the Consequence of them more Dangerous, and the Cure of them more Difficult and Impracticable, than that of Bodily Distempers. For the better understanding of these, it is Necessary to distinguish them into their several Sorts. Now some of these are purely Accidental, and fall upon it from outward Causes. Among which we may take Notice of Three more especially.  
The First is, The State and Disposition of the Body. 
Accidental.  For Diseases, which make any Alteration in the Temperament of the Body, do manifestly carry their Influence farther, and produce a mighty Alteration in the Mind, and impair the Judgement at the same time. Sometimes the Substance of the Brain is not of a good Composition, 
From the Body.  and so the Organs of the Soul are not in a Condition to do their Duty. And this again happens either from a Fault in the First Formation, as in Them who have an Ill-shaped Head, too little, or too round; or else from some accidental Hurts, afterwards, as many have suffered extremely in their Reason and Memory, by Falls, and Blows, and Wounds upon their Head.  
For The Second Cause of these Defects, 
Prejudicated Opinions.  we may assign that Universal Infection of common and popular Opinions, entertained in the World; With which the M●nd is tinctured early, and these take Possession, and usually keep it obstinately. Or which is yet worse, sometimes wild and fantastical Delusions have been drunk in, and with these the Mind is so strongly seasoned, so grossly cheated, that They are not only not dismissed, but made the Rule of our Judgements, and the Measure of Truth in other Cases. All is brought to this Standard; and received or rejected, as it agrees or disagrees with it. Here the Man six his Foot, and will not be got one Step backward or forward. The Instances of this kind among the Vulgar are Infinite; most of whom are guided by some fantastical Notion, some erroneous Conceit, that hath grown up, and is like to live and die with them. And indeed when these Fancies or Opinions are common, they are like a strong Torrent; Every Body hath not Force and Vigour of Mind enough to stem it, and keep himself from being carried down the Stream with his Neighbours.  
The Third, 
Passions.  and That which sticks much the closest to it of all the rest, is the Sickness and Corruption of the Will, and the Inordinacy and Strength of the Passions. And in this Case, the Soul is a World turned upside-down. The Will is made by Nature to follow the Directions of the Understanding; This is its Guide to Instruct; Its Candle to give it Light; but when once the Strength of Passion hath corrupted, and as it were laid violent Hands upon the Will, than the Will, in like manner, corrupts, and commits a Violence upon the Understanding. And from this disorderly Procedure it is, that the greatest Part of our false Judgements grow. Envy and Malice, and Love, and Hatred, and Fear, make us see things with other Eyes; and take them for what they really are not; and draw such Conclusions, and Inferences from them, as they minister no Just Ground for. From whence it is, that we so often are admonished, and do admonish others, to Judge without Passion. This puts us upon all those base and black Interpretations, by which we labour to eclipse the virtuous Behaviour, and generous Actions of other Men; Hence we study and invent Causes, and Intentions, for them, and, of our own Malice, assign vain and wicked Motives and Occasions for what they do. This is a most abominable Vice, and an evident Proof of great Malignity in our Nature, and of a diseased Mind; There is no great Matter of Wit or Judgement shown in such Proceed, but they betray a World of Baseness and Ill-Nature. For whence can all this Misconstruction spring, but either from that Envy, which our Neighbour's Honour and Reputation provokes in us; or from a measuring of others by ourselves, and so taking that for granted in Them, which we are Conscious of in ourselves; or from a Weakness and Distemper in the Mind, which like some Sicknesses in the Body, altars and vitiates the Palate, confounds and blinds the Sight, that we neither see nor taste Things as they are; and that Virtue, in its native Purity and Lustre, is too Strong for us to bear or conceive? From the same Cause it is, that we are so officiously Spiteful, in publishing other men's Vices and Failings; that we aggravate these beyond what they deserve, but take good Care to extenuate their Virtues as much; hence from single Actions, and particular Circumstances, we draw general Inferences, and fix standing Characters upon Men; Hence comes our Partiality in judging, and our Regards, not to the Thing, but the Person. If he be a Friend, or of Our Opinion, or in Our Interest; then all he does is justified or applauded, and every Thing becomes him; and his very Vices are Virtues; But if he be an Enemy, if he have disobliged us Personally, or be engaged in a Contrary Faction; he is stark naught, and nothing is as it should be. Thus we are content to wrong and disgrace our Judgement, provided we may but gratify our Passions. But alas! we are not come to the End, nor to the worst Part of it yet; For most of the Impieties, and Heresies, the Errors in point of Belief, and Controversies of all Sorts in Religion, if we examine them strictly, and trace them up to their first Head, will appear to be so many noisome Streams of this bitter Fountain; a polluted and wicked Will, inordinate Passion, and senfual Pleasure; which by Degrees bribes and debauches the Understanding, and wins it over to its own Side. The People sat down to eat and to drink, and risen up to play; As the Scripture observes of the Israelites Idolatry; and St. Augustine very well to this purpose; 
* 
Quod vult, non quod est, credit, qui cupit errare.  Lib. 2. de Civ. Dei.  That when a Man feels an Error agreeable to him, he does not believe what is True, but what he would gladly have to be True. Thus by Degrees it hath come to pass, that the Wickednesses which at first were committed with many Doubts, and Misgivings, and great Reluctancies, have not only outworn all Scruple in time, but been asserted and maintained for Divine Truth, and Express Revelation. What was at first in the Sensual Appetite only, hath made its Way higher, and got the upper Hand of the Understanding; What was merely Passion and Pleasure, hath been advanced into a Principle of Religion, and an Article of Faith. So dangerous a thing is it for any part of the Soul to be diseased; So Strong the Infection, and so quickly does it spread from one Faculty to another. And thus you have had an Account, what those Three Causes of Our Mental Defects, and the Errors in our Judgement are, which were said to be external and foreign to the Mind itself. For it appears, that the Understanding may be wanting or impaired, by Means of Sickness or Bodily Indisposition, more especially any Disease or Hurt in the Head, or any inconvenient Shape of the Skull. From the prejudicated Opinions of the World, and taking up groundless Whimsies for measured and certain Truths. And Lastly, from any Disorder in the other Faculties of the Rational Soul; which are placed below, and aught by Nature to be under the Governance of the Mind. Those whose Failings proceed from the first of these Causes, deserve our Pity, not our Censure or Blame; and of them some are curable, and others incurable. The Second are not wholly Innocent, but yet Faulty in such a Degree, that we may pardon, and excuse them. But the Third sort are altogether Guilty. They deserve both Censure and Punishment, for suffering the Order of their Creation to be so inverted, that those which were born Subjects, and aught to submit, should usurp the Throne, and presume to give Laws to their Natural Sovereign.  
But, besides these outward and accidental Failings, there are others, 
It's Natural Defects.  Natural and Internal, such as take their first rise from, and are born and cherished in the Mind itself. The greatest of All, and indeed the Source and Root of all the Rest, is Pride and Presumption. (The First, and the Original Sin of Mankind, the Bane of every Soul, and the Cause of all manner of Evil) 'Tis This that puffs Men up with Sufficiency and Self-Satisfaction; This will not suffer us to yield to any body, or think others Wiser or Better than ourselves. This makes us despise the good Counsel of our Friends; and place an entire Confidence in our own Opinions. This calls the Judgements of other People into Question; arraigns and condemns them; nay, sometimes, such as we understand nothing of, nor are capable of examining or comprehending the Reasons of them. 'Tis most truly observed, that Judgement and Wisdom is not only the Best, but the Happiest Portion God Almighty hath distributed among Men. For tho' this Distribution be made with a very uneven Hand, yet no body thinks himself stinted or Ill dealt with; but he that hath never so little is contented in this Respect however, and thinks he hath a Child's Share at least. Now This Distemper is owing to no Cause so much, as the want of being more intimately acquainted with ourselves; for by this means we are Strangers to our Wants and Weaknesses, and not at all sensible of our greatest Misfortunes, So that the Root of all our Diseases is Ignorance, not That which is opposed to Skill in Arts and Sciences, and conversing with the Writings of Learned Men; but Ignorance of our own Affairs and Condition, the Removal and Cure whereof was proposed in the Beginning, as the Design of this whole First Book.   

CHAP. XV. Of the Memory.  
MEmory is very often mistaken by the Vulgar for Understanding and Good Sense; but in truth they are very different Things. For both Reason and Experience tell us (as hath been observed formerly) that it is very possible and usual, for a Man, who is Excellent in one of these respects, to be wretchedly weak and wanting in the other. This indeed is a Faculty very Serviceable and Useful to Mankind; but it comes far short of the Understanding; and is much the Tenderest, and most Feeble of all those Parts, whereof the Rational Soul is composed. To excel in it is not very necessary; except for Three Sorts of People. 1. Men of Trade, and much Business. 2. Those that are extremely Talkative, for this is the Storehouse, from whence they must be furnished with Matter for Discourse; and it is naturally more full and fruitful than Invention; but he that cannot be supplied from hence, must make it up by Stuff of his own forging, and 3. Great Liars, for 
* Mendacem oportet esse Memorem.  These, indeed, aught to have good Memories. The Want of Memory hath its Conveniences too. For this will dispose Men to speak Truth, to be Modest, and talk no more than their Share, and to forget the Faults and Injuries of other People. A moderate Proportion of this Faculty, will serve ones Turn, and answer all the Ends of it very well.   

CHAP. XVI. Of Imagination and Opinion.  
THE Power of Imagination is exceeding great; This is in Effect the very Thing, 
The Effects of imagination.  that makes all the Noise in the World: Almost all the Clutter and Disturbances we feel, or make, are owing to it. (Accordingly it was observed before, that This is, if not the Only, yet at least the most active and bustling Faculty of the Soul.) And, in good Truth, the Effects of it are Wonderful, Unaccountable, and almost Incredible. For the Influences of Imagination are not confined to the Body or the Mind of that Person alone, where it is born and cherished; but extend and transfuse themselves far and wide, and act very Strongly upon other People. It is fitted for all manner of Operations, and the most distant and contrary Passions are raised by it; It puts the Man into all manner of Forms, and the Face into all Colours and Complexions: Makes Men blush with Shame, look Pale with Fear, tremble and quake, casts them into Fits of Raving and Confusion; These, tho' strange, are yet some of its least Effects, and gentle in Comparison of others. It checks and enfeebles Men in their hottest Career; balks their Pleasures, and chills all their Spirits. It Marks and deforms, nay, sometimes kills Embryo's in the Womb; hastens Births, or causes Abortions; Takes away the Speech, and ties the Tongue; and sometimes enables the Dumb to speak, as the Story of Croesus his Son assures us. Makes Men Stiff and Motionless, benumbs and binds up the Senses, stops the Breath; These are its Effects upon the Body. Then for the Mind, It robs Men of their Knowledge and Judgement, turns them into Fools and stupid Sots; as Gallus Vibius for Instance, who having strained his Imagination too far in the study and practice of Polly, and its Motions, is said to have disturbed his Understanding to that Degree, that he turned a mere Natural, and could never return to sound Judgement and good Sense again. It inspires Men with strange Presages of things hidden and future, fills them with Enthusiasms and Fancies, out of the common Road of Thinking; throws them into Ecstasies and Raptures; nay possesses them with the Thoughts and Expectations of Death, till at last they die indeed; as it did that Malefactor, who, when his Cap had been pulled over his Eyes in order to Execution, was found stark dead upon the Scaffold, when they came to uncover him again, and read his Pardon. In a word, A great part of those unusual Operations, which create such Amazement in the Vulgar, Apparitions, and Visions, and Witchcrafts, are to be attributed to the force of Imagination; and what They think done by the power of the Devil, or some familiar Spirits, (for I meddle not here with the Supernatural Operations of God's own Spirit) is commonly no more than a strong Fancy, either in the Person that does these strange things, or of the Spectators that are deluded with them, and think they see those Objects, which really they do not. And the great Care in these Cases is, to distinguish wisely between Truth and Falsehood, and not suffer our Judgements to be captivated with vulgar Errors.  
In this part of the Soul it is, that Opinion keeps its Residence, which is nothing else but a vain and easy, a crude and imperfect Judgement of things, taken up upon slight and insufficient grounds; too credulous an Assent to the Representations of our outward Senses, or common Report, which rests in the first Appearances of Things, and fixes in the Imaginative Faculty, without ever going farther, or referring the Matter to the Understanding, to be throughly examined, and digested there, and so wrought up, and finished into solid Reason. Till This be done, no true Judgement can be made, and such as a Man may venture to abide by. And accordingly we see the other is mutable and inconstant, fleeting and deceitful. A very dangerous Guide, that makes Head against Reason; of which it is only the Image and Shadow, and that but an empty and false one neither. This is the Source of all our Evils, our Confusions and Disorders, our Passions and Troubles; the most, and the worst of them rise out of a prepossessed Fancy, and heated Imagination: So that in truth Madmen and Fools, the Ignorant and the Mobb, are blindly led by the Nose by it, and follow this Leader; and betray their Folly in doing so; as Wise and Judicious Men distinguish themselves, and approve their Prudence in suffering nothing but Reason to guide and govern them.  
That thus it is, 
The World is governed by Opinion.  we see plainly; for, as hath been observed long ago by one of the Ancients, It is not the Reality, nor the true Nature of Things, but the Notion and Opinion Men entertain of them, that disquiets, and so violently Torments their Souls 
* Opinion saepius quam Re laboramus: plura sunt quae nos terrent, quàm quae nos premunt. . Thus we turn our own Executioners, form Evils to ourselves which are not, and strangely aggravate those that are, by frightful Ideas, which belong not to them. The Truth and Essence of Things never enters our Minds in its true Proportions, nor works upon us by its natural Force and Authority; for were it thus with us, all things that are alike in Themselves would be alike to Us; and the same Object would produce the same Affections and Resentments in all Men, allowing only some small matter of difference in the Degree of them. At this rate all Mankind would be of the same Opinion: What is false would be universally rejected, and what is true as universally embraced; for Truth can be but One and the Same; and is always equal and consistent with itself. But quite contrary, We find that the Difference of Opinions is infinite; Men do not only vary from, but directly contradict one another. And there are but very few Instances, in which even Men of the best Natural Abilities, and most eminent for their Improvements and acquired Learning, are all of a Mind. This shows sufficiently, that the Ideas of things are compounded and mixed before we entertain them, that we have them at our Mercy, and put what Forms we please upon them; And, that the Condition they come to us in, is not what Nature gave, but what the Temper and Disposition of our own Minds have moulded and modelled them into. That which I firmly believe myself, I cannot prevail with my Friend to believe; Those are Arguments to Me, which to Him are none at all. Nay, which is more; Let one be never so confidently assured of a thing to Day, I cannot engage that I shall continue in the same Opinion of it to Morrow: And it is odds I may, (and plain that I often do) entertain very different Notions of it, and be quite otherwise affected with it another time. So sure it is, that Things have just that place in our Opinion and Esteem, which we think fit to assign them; that they are relished just as our Palate stands at that time; and show to us according to those Colours which we ourselves have tinctured them with. Like the Eyes of Men in the Jaundice, or the Prismes, that refract and vary the Rays that fall upon the Organs of our outward Senses, so does the Soul alter its Objects too; and the present Constitution of it is the Medium, through which they must pass to us. St. Paul's observation with regard to Morals, may be applied to Speculation too, 
Tit. I. 15.  Unto the pure all things are pure, but unto the defiled is nothing pure. Thus our Thoughts are like our Clothes, that keep us warm, with a Heat which is none of their own, but such as we first gave them, and they keep it; and at the same time that they receive our Warmth from within, they receive and keep the Cold of Frost and Snow without. But still the Warmth we feel is all our own; we first impart it to Them, and they in requital preserve it for our Benefit, and pay what they received, back again to Us.  
How few are there of those Opinions, which we profess to entertain, that, when looked into, are not at last resolved into Authority, and taken upon Trust? We believe and act, we live and die upon Credit and Content; and our great Business is to conform ourselves to Custom, and to think and do like the rest of the World, and according to what They, not our own Reason, esteems most adviseable. Thus Fashions, and not Judgement, govern Mankind; and perhaps indeed, for the greatest part of Mankind, this is not much amiss; for most People have not Wit enough to choose for themselves, and therefore aught to resign the Government of their Actions to others: But Wise Men are above these mean and servile Compliances; they have a better Rule to walk by than Authority and Example; 
Book II.  As I hope to show at large in the following Parts of this Treatise.   

CHAP. XVII. The Will.  
THE Will is a most exquisite Piece, 
It's Preeminence.  a magnificent Accomplishment of Humane Nature indeed; of wonderful Importance, and such as deserves and requires our utmost Care and Study, to regulate and manage it well: For this hath the most commanding Influence upon a Man's Condition; and his whole Happiness in a manner depends upon it alone. This is the only Faculty which Nature hath put in our own Power. All the rest, such as Memory, Understanding, Imagination, are at the Mercy and Disposal of a Thousand Accidents, which oftentimes disturb, and change, and impair, nay sometimes destroy, and take them quite away from us. Again: This draws the whole Man after it, and carries him whithersoever itself is determined; for he that conquers the Will, hath subdued the Person. When the Understanding is convinced, the Conquest is by no means entire; for the Will frequently holds out afterwards, and makes an obstinate Defence against Reason and Sober Judgement. But when once This yields, All is surrendered, and the Man is not now any longer his own Master, he hath from thenceforth nothing left that he can call his own. Once more; This is the very Thing that fixes our Character; It makes and it denominates Good or Ill Men: This gives our Temper and Complexion, and we appear to the World under its Colours and Dispositions. As of all Virtues and Qualifications of the Soul, Probity is the first and chief, and infinitely more desirable than Learning, or Parts: All that Nature, or Art, or Industry can give, are not comparable to it; so it must be confessed, that the Will, which is the Seat and proper Residence of Virtue and Goodness, is infinitely the most excellent Faculty that Humane Nature can boast of. A Man is neither Virtuous nor Vicious, Honest nor Dishonest, for knowing what Virtue and Vice, Honesty and Dishonesty are; tho' this Knowledge be never so nice and exact in the Speculation; but by his Inclination, and Love, and Practice of these things, by the Disposition of his Mind, the Choice of his Heart, the Bend of his Affections, and the general Tendency of his Manners and Behaviour. There are indeed some other Preeminences peculiar to the Understanding; it is as the Husband in the Family, and this as the Wife, which ought to be under its Governance and Direction: That is the Guide, or as the Light, This as the Traveller, which should follow its Instructions, and walk by them: But still the last Result of all depends upon the Will; This finishes the Action, and determines the whole Matter; and in that respect the Will is superior even to the Understanding itself.  
The true and most remarkable Difference between these two Faculties, with regard to the manner of their Operation, seems to be This: That by the Understanding, Objects come into the Soul, and are there received and entertained, as the several Terms by which the Offices proper to this Part, are usually expressed, (such as Apprehending, Conceiving, Comprehending, and the like) do plainly import. And here they make their Entrance, not according to what they really are in their true Nature and full Proportions; but according to the present Disposition and Capacity of the Person, and in such Measures only as he is able to receive them in. Those Objects which are great and sublime, are for this reason under a necessity of condescending and contracting themselves, and come to us with considerable Abatements and Defalcations; because the Passage at which they enter is not large enough for their true Height and Bulk: Just as the Ocean flows into the Mediterranean, not in such Quantities as are agreeable to its own Fullness, but such only as the Streight's Mouth can give admission to. Now in the Operations of the Will, the Method is quite contrary; Here the Soul goes as it were out of itself, it stretches and moves forward toward the Object; it seeks and runs after it with open Arms, and is eager to take up its Residence, and dwell with the Thing desired and beloved: Nay, it even transforms itself into That, assumes its Name and its Nature, wears its Livery, and is distinguished by the Things it serves, and retains to. Hence we give it the Title of a Virtuous or Vicious, a Spiritual or a Carnal Mind; according as it pursues commendable and exalted Objects, or is sunk into Sensuality and Vice. Thus the true and only way by which the Will can ennoble itself, is by loving and choosing worthy and noble Things; and the abandoning itself to little and low, base and unworthy ones, is the debasing and disparagement of it. So that our former Comparison is in this regard justified again; for thus the Will is, as a Wife, who gets or loses Quality, according to the Person she marries; and in strictness can claim no Honour, nor Place, but that which belongs to her Husband.  
Daily Experience assures us, that there are Three Things which whet and stimulate the Will; The Difficulty of Obtaining; The Rarity or Excellence of the Thing we seek; and The Absence, or Fear of Losing it. And the Three Considerations opposite to These, which are, It's being Easie, and in our own Power; The Abundance or Commonness of it; and The Constant Presence, and Secure Enjoyment, do as much blunt and palls our Will. The Three former raise our Esteem of any thing; the Three latter render it cheap, and beget Neglect and Contempt. We are also sharpened, and made more eager by Opposition and Refusal; and entertain some sort of Indignation, which makes us more resolute against any thing that pretends to stand in our way, and disappoint our Desires. And thus, in the other Extreme, we disdain and overlook the Blessings we have in hand, though never so valuable; and lose what we are already possessed of, for things distant and in Reversion; and in proportion, what we lawfully do or may enjoy, for such as we cannot or ought not. 

* 
Quod licet, ingratum est, quod non licet, acrius urit.  Ovid. Eleg. Amor. Lib. II.  What comes with Ease we nauseously receive;  
Restraint inflames, and Hardships Pleasure give.   
Thus the Case stands with us in our Pleasures of all sorts. 
† Omnium rerum Voluptas ipso quo debet fugari periculo 〈◊〉.  The Danger, which in reason should absolutely destroy Delight, is the very thing which heightens it, and the strongest incentive to our Appetites in the pursuit of it. So that both Extremes have at last the same Effect, and either of them serves to make us miserable: Want and Plenty, Security and Fear, Desire and Enjoyment, all give us the same Disquiet, and put us to perpetual Pain. And this unhappy Disposition is the true account, why Men so seldom make a right estimate of Things; from whence grew that Proverb of the Prophet in his own Country, to intimate, how very different Intrinsic Worth and Common Opinion are; and that the highest Endowments, and most Divine Excellencies, when Custom and Acquaintance hath rendered them familiar to us, can no longer preserve the Value and Veneration most justly due to them.  
What Course is to be taken for the managing and regulating our Will, 
See B. II. Ch. 2. B. III. Ch. 6  will be shown hereaster.  

The Passions and Affections.  
ADVERTISEMENT.  
THE Passions of the Mind are a very large and copious Subject, furnish great variety of Matter for Reflection, and are one of the most considerable Topics in all this Treatise of Wisdom: And, upon this occasion, we are to observe, that the first Step to be made in this Branch of it, is to learn the true Nature of the Passions, and how to distinguish them from each other, which shall be taught you here in the First Book: And then, for the Remedies of Cure, by which they are to be curbed, controlled, and brought within due Bounds, such of them as are general, will be laid down in the Second; And those that are proper for each Passion in particular, will be directed and specified accordingly in the Third Book. This Method being most agreeable to that Scheme of the whole Work, drawn out in the Preface.  
Now in order to attaining to a clear and distinct Knowledge of them at present, I design to employ one Chapter in treating of the Passions in general, and then to speak of each Passion singly in the Chapters that follow. But before I enter upon That, I think myself obliged in Justice to declare, that of all the Authors I have seen, none hath represented this Matter more copiously, and to the Life, than the Sicur de Vaux in his Moral Tracts; to whom I have been much beholding, and have borrowed a great deal from thence, of what I shall say upon this Subject of the Passions.    

CHAP. XVIII. Of the Passions in general.  
PAssion is a violent Motion of the Soul, in that which is distinguished by the Name of Its Sensitive part: 
An Account of Passion; what and whence it is  And the Cause and Tendency of this Motion is, either to pursue somewhat which the Soul apprehends to be Good; or to decline, and run away from something, which it apprehends to be Evil.  
But it is very necessary, and of great consequence upon this Occasion, to be rightly informed how these Motions begin, and what it is that cherishes and kindles these Fires in us. Of This, several Accounts may be given, and different Comparisons made use of, to illustrate it by, according to the different Respects in which we consider them. And first of all, with regard to the suddenness and vehemence of their Emotions, it is to be observed, That the Soul, which, however seemingly multiplied by Distinctions, is really but One and the Same in the Body, hath several Powers belonging to it; and These differ greatly in their Qualities and Operations, according as the several Vessels in which the Soul keeps her Residence, and the Instruments she makes use of in discharging her Functions, and the Objects propounded to her Contemplation, are differently disposed. Now when the Parts, where the Soul takes up her Lodging, are not crowded or over-burdened, but filled in such Proportions as suit well with their ordinary Custom and Capacity, and such as are convenient for a due discharge of their respective Duties, than all the Operations of the Soul are gentle and mild, sedate and regular. But, on the other side, when any of these Parts are either put into a swifter and more violent Motion, or are heated above their ordinary and proper Temper, than they immediately feel a considerable Change, to the great Prejudice and Disorder of the Soul. The like we see in the Beams of the Sun, which, when scattered loosely with all that Freedom they naturally take in diffusing themselves, impart a moderate and gentle, a cherishing and kindly Warmth; but when contracted within the Concave of a Burning-Glass, they burn up, and quite consume the very things to which they gave Life and Nourishment before. It must be farther observed too, that These Parts are not always distributed alike; And from hence arises another Distinction, not only with regard to the Kind and Quality, but to the Degree of their Emotion; and so they differ in the same sort, as their Violence is greater or less. Those Motions that are moderate, are capable of being relished and digested; a Man knows what he feels, and is in a Condition of expressing his Resentment in Words, or giving it Vent by Tears. But those that are excessive and extreme, are too big, and too mighty. They stun and take away our Senses quite, fill the Soul with Confusion and Amazement, bind up, and quite overbear her Powers, and disable her from acting. 

* 
Curae leves loquuntur, ingen●es stupent.  Senec. Hippolyt.  'Slight Passions find a Vent, and Words command;  
The Fierce swell inward, Dumb and Stupid stand.   
Thus much may suffice, to give us some little Notion of the Passions, 
Of the Vi●iaus Irregularity in them.  the manner of their Operation, and their Degrees in general. But if we now look upon them, in the Second Place, with Regard to the Viciousness, and Irregularity, and Extravagance; the Injustice and Unreasonableness these Passions are frequently guilty of; thus Man may not unfitly be resembled to a State or Commonwealth, and the Condition of the Soul, to that of a Monarch, presiding over that State, constituting several Officers and Magistrates under him, to assist in the good Government of such vast Multitudes of People; giving particular Laws and Directions for their Behaviour, and for the due Exercise of their particular Charges and Commissions; but still reserving to himself and his own Supreme Jurisdiction, the Cognizance and Determination of all Matters of great Weight and general Importance; and for the giving fresh and necessary Orders, commanding that all extraordinary Accidents and Emergencies, should immediately and faithfully be reported to himself in Person. Now upon such a Constitution, and such Orders duly observed, the Peace and Prosperity of the whole Kingdom will depend. But if these be neglected and broken, and put out of their proper Course; If the Magistrates, which go between, and are a sort of Balance between King and People, shall suffer themselves, either to be imposed upon through Easiness, or Credulity; or corrupted by Favour or Assection; or if they shall employ their Authority in acting contrary to the Established Laws, and Duties of their Places; or if they shall go beyond their Commissions, and come to a final Resolution in Causes, which they ought not to determine, without ever laying them before their Sovereign, who hath reserved the Hearing and Decision of all such Matters to himself in Person: In all these Cases, I say, the public Peace is violated, the Establishment infringed, the Prerogative encroached upon, and nothing but Mischief, and Misery, and Confusion can be the End of it. Now thus it is likewise in our Little World. The Understanding is King in Man; and under him is employed a Faculty, whose Business it is to receive Ideas, and to make an Estimate of them; This is the Subordinate Magistrate, whose Office obliges him to examine, and to judge; The Evidence he goes upon, is that Report the Senses make of all things represented to them; and according to this Testimony, and the Judgement in consequence of it, the Affections are by the same Faculty put forward, in order to execute this Sentence. For his Direction, and Governance in the Execution of this Office, our Judge in Commission hath the Law, the Light of Nature, and Dictates of Reason to go by; and this, in ordinary Cases, is sufficient without any farther Formality: But if it happen, that the Affair be of great Moment, or if any Difficulty arise, than he must have recourse to, and know the Pleasure of his Superior; and in this Case the Understanding, which sits Supreme, answers all Doubts and Points of Law, and expects to be consulted and applied to for Orders and Advice. This is the Scheme of our Government and Constitution; and so long as Matters are thus managed, all is quiet and well. But it is our Great Unhappiness, that this Imaginative Faculty, (which is under the Intellectual, but over the Sensitive, and to whose Jurisdiction the first Examination and Judgement of things belong,) often suffers itself to be bribed, corrupted, imposed upon; And the Effect of this is, First to pass wrong and rash Judgement; then to set the Affections at work to very ill Purpose; and at last to disturb, and confound, and ruin All. Now several things there are, which may contribute towards the depraving, and disordering this Power, in its Judgements and Operations: As first of all; The Senses themselves, which cannot penetrate into the Bottom, nor comprehend the Real Substance, and hidden Nature of Things, but the bare Surface, and next Appearance of them only: And These make a Report to the Soul, according to their present Apprehension; set before it the outward Images only, and that, so as may gain them Favour and Recommendation, and pre-possessing it with a Character of their Qualities, founded upon the Satisfactions and Delights they are capable of administering to these Senses in particular, and not upon the Considerations, how Necessary, or how Advantageous they may prove to the whole Man in general. A Second Corruption, which often confirms, and strikes in upon the Neck of This, is the False Notions, and Unthinking Cry of the Vulgar; when we look upon our selves obliged to Approve and Disapprove, as Others do; and when nothing is reputed needful to establish an Opinion, more than its being Popular. From these two false Offices of Intelligence, The Report of our own Senses, and the Voice of the People, proceeds a Rash Inconsiderate Opinion, which the Soul takes up of Things; and without fair Trial, or sufficient Deliberation, pronounces them, Good or Evil; Advantageous or Hurtful; fit to be courted, or fit to be detested and avoided. And this is without all Dispute a very dangerous Guide; a very hot and hasty Mistress; for as soon as ever we entertain it, without more ado it seizes upon the Imagination; and there standing upon its Defence, strengthens itself as in a Castle, Man's all the Works, and holds it out against Reason; than it comes down to the Heart, and there stirs and agitates the Affections, with the violent Resentments of Hope and Fear, and Joy and Grief. In a Word, it is a perfect Incendiary in the State, looks out all the Fools, and Disaffected in the Soul, and blows them up into Sedition; raises the Mobb, that is, the Passions, and sets all in an Uproar and Confusion. And all this by taking wrong Methods, going Headlong to work, and not submitting the Matter to the Understanding, as by the Nature of this Establishment, and the Duty of its Station, that Faculty was obliged to do.  
Permit me to set before you another Illustration of this Matter by a Comparison taken from Military (as the former was an Allusion to Civil) Government. The Senses answer here both to the Sentinels, whose Post it is to watch, and be constantly upon the Guard, for the safety of the Soul; and also to Scouts, who are to look out, and scour the Country, and bring in Intelligence to the Understanding, which is the Supreme Commander of the Soul. To qualify them for this Duty, They are endued with a Power, of perceiving things; discerning and taking the Faces and Forms of them; and embracing or rejecting them, according as they appear Agreeable or disagreeable, Delightful or Odious to them. But now in the Execution of their Office, their Business is only to spy out, and to report; to take Care, that their Intelligence be True, and to bring it Faithfully, and relate it Plainly and Calmly. And they ought to satisfy themselves with delivering their Message, without taking upon them to disturb the higher Powers, or to sound to Arms immediately, and so put all into Consternation and universal Disorder. And thus it often happens; that as the Sentinels in an Army, may lie under Mistakes, because they are not acquainted with the secret Designs of the General; and so receive Them for Friends, which are Enemies in Disguise; and suspect those for Enemies, which are Allies, and marching to their Assistance; The Senses, in like manner, not being privy to all that passes above, and for want of consulting Reason in the Case, are frequently imposed upon by counterfeit Appearances, and apt to take That for a Friend, which is, in truth, our deadly Enemy. And when they go giddily to work upon this Imagination, and without ever expecting Orders from the Understanding, fall on immediately, and alarm the Concupiscible, and Irascible Faculties; then they raise Tumults, and Mutinies in the Soul; and while these last, there is nothing but Clamour and Violence; the Voice of Reason cannot be heard, nor the Commands of the Understanding be at all obeyed.  
Let us now in the next Place, observe their several Regiments and Ranks; 
Their Distinctions.  the General, and the Subordinate Kind's and Divisions of them. Now we must know, 
According to the Object and Subject. Six in the Concupiscible Part. Three for Good, and Three for Evil.  That all Passion whatsoever, is moved by the Appearance, either Real or Imaginary, of Good or Evil; what actually is, or what is by the Person apprehended so to be. If the Object be Good, and the Soul considers it as such, simply, and without any other Circumstances, this is that Motion of the Soul, which goes by the Name of Love. If to that Good, so considered as before, be added the Circumstance of its being present, and the Man reflect upon himself, as in full Possession and actual Enjoyment of it, This is called Joy, or Pleasure; but if it be future and distant, than it is Desire. On the other Hand, consider an Evil Object, abstractedly, and merely as such, and the Passion it stirs in us, is Hatred: If it be present, and affect us sensibly, it is Grief and Pain; if some other Person labour under it, 'tis Pity and Compassion; if it be future and approaching only, then 'tis Fear. And This is remarkable, concerning the Passions already named; that Those of them, which proceed from the Apprehension, or the Appearance of Evil, such as we run away from, and are possessed with an Abhorrence of, do of all others sink deepest into the Heart, take fastest Hold of us, and are most difficult to be dispossessed again. This now is the first Regiment of Mutineers, which disturb the Content, and break the Peace of our Souls, and these are quartered in that which is termed the Concupiscible Part. The Effects and Disorderly Carriage of These are, it must be confessed, of very dangerous Consequence; but yet they are not near so Outrageous and Mischievous, as those that we are going to mention. For these first Motions, form here by the Representation of the Object, 
Five in the Irascible; Two for Good, and Three for Evil  are afterwards continued, and communicated to the Irascible Part of the Soul, that is, The Place, where the Soul is active, and contriving Means to obtain what she apprehends to be Good; and to deliver herself from that which she apprehends to be Evil. And then, as a Wheel already in Motion, when a fresh Force bushes it, receives that Addition easily, and whirls about with wonderful Strength and Swiftness; so the Soul, which is already stirred and warmed with the first Apprehension, when a Second Attempt is made upon it, and the Coals are blown, flames out, and is transported with Rage and Violence, much greater than before. The Passions Then raised, ride higher; are much more furious and ungovernable; for now indeed they are double: The first have come in and joined them, and thus they back and sustain one another, by this Union, and mutual Consent. For the former Passions, which were the Result of Good or Evil in Appearance, considered in Speculation only, now fall in with the Practical Consideration of Means proper for the acquiring or avoiding them, and so excite in us Hope or Despair. And here, those that arise from the Prospect of a future Evil, produce in us, either Fearfulness or Courage; the Apprehension of a present Evil, kindles Anger and Indignation; which are Passions extremely Furious and Violent, and such, as when they find the Reason once disturbed, confound and absolutely overturn it. These are the Principal Winds, that raise all the Storms in our Souls; and the Cavern (like that of Aeolus) where they are engendered, and from whence they break lose, is nothing else but Opinion, (And Opinion is most commonly a false, fleeting, and uncertain Thing; contrary to Nature, and Truth, to Reason and Certainty) that is, A Notion we have, that the Things which are then represented to our Imaginations, are Good or Evil. Nor matters it much, how wild, and extravagant, this Notion is in itself, provided We do but give it Entertainment. For Men proceed not upon Realities, but upon their own Fancies; and when once we have taken a Conceit that a Thing is Good or Evil, we run after, or we run away from it, with as much Eagerness and Impatience, as if it were actually such; and yet it often, very often happens, that the Nature of the Object is directly contrary to our Apprehensions, and aught to move Resentments, just opposite to those we feel upon its Account. And such in general are our Passions.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
THE Nature of these Passions comes next to be considered; and my Design in it is, 
See Book III. In the Virtue of Fortitude and Temperance  to expose the Folly, the Vanity, the Misery, the Unreasonableness and Injustice, the Horror and Deformity that is in them; that so Men may be taught to know them as they are, and to hate them as they deserve. The Advices proper for preserving ourselves from the ill Effects of them, will be delivered at large in the following Books. For the two Parts of a Physicians Business, you know, are first to show the Disease, and then to apply sit Remedies. My present Care then shall be, to tell Men what they all, and where their Distemper lies; and for the Prescriptions they must wait a little longer.  
Now of the several Passions here to be described, those shall first be spoken to, which have a respect to the Appearance of Good, such are Love, and the several sorts of it; Desire, Hope, Despair, Joy, and the like. And after these we will enter upon those that are excited in us by the Apprehension of Evil, which indeed are very numerous, as Anger, Hatred, Envy, Jealousy, Revenge, Cruelty, Fear, Grief, and Compassion.    

CHAP. XIX. Of Love in general, and at large.  
LOVE is the First, 
Love compared with and distinguished from the rest.  the Chief, the Reigning Passion; the rest are all derived from, and reduced at last into This; But it is of vast extent, employed upon different Subjects, distinguished into different sorts and degrees. Of These the Three principal that fall within our present purpose, and to which all the rest may very well be referred, are Ambition or ●ride, which is the Love of Honour and Greatness; Avarice, which is the Love of Riches; and Sensuality or Carnal Desire, which is the Love of Pleasure. (These I call such as come within our present Design, which is to treat of Love, as it is vicious, and the effect of Passion; for Virtuous Love, which may be distinguished into Friendship, Charity, and Natural Affection or Tenderness, is out of the compass of this place, and will be spoken to under the Virtue of Justice.) 
〈◊〉 III   
The Three forementioned Passions are those Three Gulfs and Precipices, that drown so great a part of the World in Destruction and Perdition; the Plagues of Mankind; from the Infection whereof, how sew, exceeding few escape untouched? the Corruptions that taint every part of us, even All we are, and All we have, and All we take in hand; our Souls, and Bodies, and Possessions: These are the Magazines, from whence those Three mortal Enemies of the Peace and Salvation of Mankind, the Devil, the World, and the ●●●sh, furnish themselves with Arms to assault and destroy us. They may in truth be called Three Powers or Potentates, the commonest and most universal Passions, whose Territories are so large, that the Apostle hath divided the whole Universe between them. 
1 John two. 16.  All that is in the World (says he) the Lust of the Flesh, and the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life.  
Of these, Ambition is the most refin'd and Spiritualised, and hath therefore been esteemed more noble, or less Mean, than the Two others. Sensuality, or Love of Pleasure, in regard of its being more Natural and Universal, (for even Beasts, which are wholly unacquainted with the other sorts, have a share in this) is more violent, and less vicious. When I speak of Violence, I mean, considering it simply, and according to the Nature of the thing. For though it may, and sometimes does happen, that Ambition prevails over it, yet this is a particular Distemper, a Case excepted from the common Course, and general Rules. But of all the Rest, Avarice is the most stupid and senseless Passion, the surest Symptom of a sordid and sickly Mind.   

CHAP. XX. Of Ambition.  
AMbition is a Thirst of Honour and Glory, 
Definition of it.  a greedy, and gluttonous, and inordinate Desire of Greatness. It is naturally a gentle and pleasing Passion, which with much Ease insinuates itself into Great and Generous Spirits, and is not driven out again without great Difficulty. We all think it our Duty and Commendation, to pursue and embrace that which is Good; and of all Things that pretend to this Character, Honour is most in request and esteem with us. And therefore all of us run full speed, and put ourselves upon the utmost Stretches, where This is the Prize. The Ambitious Man strives to be first, keeps his Eye forward upon the Goal, and upon those that have the Start of him; but forgets and takes no notice of the many he hath outstripped himself. He feels more Discontent, for One Man that hath got before him, than he enjoys Satisfaction for a Thousand that he hath left lagging after. Seneca observes very well, 
* Habet hee vitium omnis Ambitio, non respicit.  This is the constant Fault, and inseparable ill Quality of Ambition, never to look behind it. Now Ambition is of two sorts; The one aspires after Glory and Honour, a Good Reputation, a Great and Immortal Name; and this is of great Use, and public Benefit; It is not only allowable, but in some Sense, and under certain Qualifications and Restraints, highly commendable: The other sort affects Greatness and Power; and this is generally not only vicious, but destructive, and of most fatal Consequence to the World.  
Ambition hath this peculiar Advantage, 
'Tis 〈◊〉 to us.  that the Seeds of it are sown, and the Root of it fast fised in the Heart of every one of us. We have a Proverb indeed, which tells us Nature is contented with a very little; but then we have another too, that says with as great Truth the direct contrary; That Nature is never satisfied, nor capable of being contented at all. A Man never comes to the End of his Desires, so as to set up his Rest, but is always for climbing a little higher, and growing a little richer. No Man goes a moderate pace, or chooses to advance leisurely, towards Greatness and Glory; but lays the Reins in the Neck, and rides Whip and Spur. 
† Natura nostra Imperii est avida, & ad implendam Cupiditatem praeceps.  Humane Nature is greedy of Preference and Power, and drives furiously on toward the gratifying those Desires. And indeed their Speed is oftentimes so great, that the Riders are thrown, and break their Neck; as History and Experience show a world of Aspiring Men to have done, who have paid dear for all their Hopes, and lost both Them and Themselves, just when they were in view, and upon the Point of enjoying their promised Happiness. This, in short, is a Passion riveted into, and interwoven with our Constitution; it seizes us early, 'tis violent while it lasts, and leaves us very late; from whence some of the Philosophers have wittily called it the Shirt of the Soul, the Vice next our Skin, and that which is last pulled off. 
* Etiam Sapientibus Cupido Gloriae novissima● exuitur.  For even Wise Men are observed to strip off all other Vices, before they quit this Desire of Glory and Reputation.  
As Ambition is the most violent and powerful in its Influences and Effects, 
〈◊〉 Strength and Superiority.  so is it likewise the loftiest and most noble in its own Nature, of any Passion whatsoever. The Power and Force of it is manifest in that absolute Mastery it gains over all other things, even those which the World is most subdued by, even all other Passions and Desires. Nay even Love itself, which sometimes pretends to dispute the Point of Power and Precedence, is yet miserably vanquished and tyrannised over by it. Alexander, Scipio, and Pompey, are so many Instances of this Observation; and so are abundance of great Generals besides, who have refused to gratify their Inclinations, upon extraordinary fine Women, when they had them at their Mercy: And all this from no other Principle than a Point of Honour; 
Conquers all other  and a Soul inflamed with Ambition; to which the Fires of Love were so far from being equal, that they were made subservient to it; and the Conquest of these Desires became a Triumph and a Sacrifice to their Glory. Thus it happened very remarkably in Caesar; For no Man alive was ever more fiercely addicted to Amours of all sorts, than He, (as the many Extravagances he had been guilty of both at Rome, and abroad in Foreign Parts, abundantly testify) no Man was ever more choice of his Person, more nice in Dress, more careful to preserve and render it agreeable to the Ladies; and yet Ambition was evermore his reigning Passion. The Pleasures of Love, tho' they had him in perfect Subjection, when This came not into Competition with them, were then so feeble, and so overmatched, that they never could prevail for the throwing away upon them so much as one Hour, which was capable of being employed, or made in any degree serviceable to the promoting his Honour. So that, notwithstanding the Mixture of any other Passions, which had their Seasons too; yet Ambition sat Supreme in his Soul, and was, to all Intents and Purposes, as if It had had the sole and ontire Possession of him. 'Tis true, we meet with an Example, the very Reverse of this, in Mark Anthony, and some Others, who have been so enslaved by Love, as to give up All, banish their most necessary and weighty Cares, and lose themselves, and their Crowns, through mere Esseminacy and Neglect. But then these have been Persons of quite different Tempers; For where both meet together, and are fairly weighed one against the other, Ambition will cast the Scale. Some indeed, who argue for the force of Love above it, tell you, that in Reason it must needs be so, because This extends to the Body as well as the Mind, keeps the whole Man in Captivity, and is not only agreeable, but necessary and convenient too. But I should think, the Reason holds on the contrary side, and that Ambition is therefore the stronger, because the more Spiritual Passion: What they pretend of the Body being also concerned in Love, proves the Passion to be so much the Feebler; for from hence it must by necessary consequence, be capable of being satiated and cloyed. Again; What is Corporeal itself, admits of Corporeal Remedies and Cures, some which Nature provides, and others which Art invents; and accordingly Experience hath approved these, and shown Instances of many who have beaten down the hottest Flames of Love; and of some who have overcome and quenched these quite, by artificial Means, and good Management. But now Ambition is so far from being glutted, that its Appetite is never satisfied. Enjoyment does but whet it more; and being seated wholly in the Soul, and the Reason, renders the Disease obstinate and incurable, incapable of outward Application, and too deep and subtle for Medicines to reach and fasten upon.  
It does not only conquer the Regard for one's own Health and Ease, 
The Gare of Life.  (for indeed Honour and Ease can never dwell together) and make Men content to sacrifice all their Quiet, and Comforts, and Enjoyment of the World; but even the natural Care and Tenderness for our very Lives is not able to stand before it. Agrippina, the Mother of Nero, was an eminent Example of this Nature, who, being extremely desirous that her Son should be Emperor, and informed that he should be Emperor indeed, but it should be at the Expense of Her Life, made an Answer sit for the Mouth of Ambition herself, could that be personated: Provided he may have the Power, (says she) I am content it should be upon the Condition of using it to my destruction. 
* Occidat m●do imperer.  Let my Son kill me, so my Son may but reign.  
Thirdly; 
The La●●  Ambition makes its way through all Laws, and tramples Conscience itself under Foot: The great Professors of Morality, who tell you, that a Man must make it his Business to be entirely Virtuous, and pay an universal Obedience to Laws; yet when they speak of Ambition, begin to mince the matter, and are content to make an excepted Case of it. A Crown it seems is so sweet, so delicious a Morsel, that the Temptation is invincible, and deserves a Dispensation. The most abstemious Man may strain a Point, and break his Fast upon this Feast. 
† Si violandum est Jus, regnandi cau● violandum est, in caeteris pietatem colas.  If ever Breach of Law and Equity be allowable, (says one) it is in the Case of gaining a Kingdom; but in every thing else, be sure to be strictly Virtuous. Not that even in this, or any Case, such Liberties are to be indulged; but They who thus express themselves, signify the strong Propensity of Humane Nature to this Passion; how strong it is in all, and how difficult to be subdued by any, who are tempted with very great Advantages.  
With the same Insolence does it treat the Holiest things, 
R●●g ●.  eraces all Reverence of God, and treads Religion under Foot: For what greater Contempt of these can be shown, than the World have seen in Jeroboam, who established an Idolatrous Worship for the securing his Throne; and A●●●●net, who gave general Encouragement to all Persuasions, and valued not which was uppermost, so he might reign: And the old Broachers of Heresies, who rather chose to forsake the right Way, and so become Heads of Parties, and Ringleaders in Falsehood and Lies, tho' a Thousand Disorders and Impieties were the visible and unavoidable Consequences of that wicked Choice, than to continue in a lower and less conspicuous Station, by being Disciples and Followers of the Truth? With regard to such as these it is, that the Apostle hath admirably foretold the Doom of Ambitious Men, That they who suffer themselves to be entangled in these Snares, make Shipwreck of a good Conscience, 
1 Tim. i 6.  err from the Faith, and pierce themselves through with many Sorrows.  
In short; It changes Men's Natures, 
Natural Affection.  hardens their Hearts, and makes them brutish; defaces all those tender Impressions and Resentments, which are most customary, and most due to our nearest Relations. The infamous Accounts, which Sacred or Profane History hath recorded, the Barbarities and Murders committed upon the Persons of Parents, or Children, or Brethren, are most of them insligated by this Passion. Witness Absalon, and Abimelech, and Athaliah. Romulus, Sei King of Persia, who slew his Father and his Brother; Soliman the Turk, that dispatched his two Brothers. So unable is any thing to stand against the Force of this impetuous Passion, which is for removing every thing out of its way; and wherever it takes its Course, overturns, and lays all level with the Ground.  

* Est autem in hoc genere molestum, quod in maximis Animis, splendidissimisque ingeniis plerunque existunt honoris, imperii, potentiae & gloriae Cupiditates. Cic. Lib. 1. de Offic.  That which renders the Case yet more deplorable, 
It is a lofty Passion.  is, that the Noblest and most Generous Spirits, such as Nature seems to have designed for Masterpieces and Patterns, are most liable to this Passion. It is in itself a tall and stately Quality, and none but great Souls are capable of giving it Reception. This was the Temptation which seduced the Angels themselves; a Temptation of all others best accommodated to Their Circumstances, and perhaps the Only one the Perfection of their Nature could be corrupted by: For Ambition is a Vice not suited to mean and little Souls. Your pitiful scoundrelly Fellows cannot come up to it; nor can common and indifferent Performances pretend to any Reward or Desert, such as it thirsts after. Glory and Renown always imply somewhat Brave and Great, and of a larger Size than ordinary; they are never to be bought at cheap and easy Rates; but are the Recompense and Effects of Good and Beneficial, shall I say? nay rather of Great and Noble, and very Difficult Actions; of Uncommon and Wonderful Excellencies; such as excite Admiration and Astonishment, at the same time that they command Honour and Applause.  
That ignoble greediness of Respect, that base and beggarly way of gaining Reputation, which submits to cringing and fawning upon all sorts of People, and declines the use of none, no not the most scandalous Methods of acquiring it; is sordid and shameful. Such Honours are a Scandal and Disgrace. A Man must take care not to express such an Eagerness after these things, as is inconsistent with the things themselves; not to be exalted and puffed up with vain Opinions of one's self, every time he does well; For he that does thus, procures his own Dishonour; and while he strives with great Pains to lift his Head above the Crowd, discovers his Nakedness and Shame at the same time.  
Ambition is intricate and various; 
It operates different Ways.  it takes several Roads, and exerts itself by very Different Methods. Sometimes it goes to work openly, and marches straight up to the Mark; And thus Alexander, and Caesar, and Themistocles, and other truly generous Spirits have proceeded. Sometimes it works in Secret, and goes in crooked Paths; and thus some Philosophers, and great Pretenders to Piety and Virtue, have indulged themselves in the Exercise of it. They fetch a Compass, and come in at the Backdoor; like Watermens, that row one way, and look another; they have laboured to get Honour, by a seeming Neglect, and contempt of Honour: And no Doubt, as Plato told Diogenes, there is more Glory, and greater Vanity, in refusing, and trampling upon Honours and Preferments, than in seeking and enjoying them. And Ambition never manages itself with greater Cunning and Success, than when it goes out of the beaten Road, and comes up to the Prize some unusual, and unseen Way.  
Ambition is without Question a very vain and foolish Passion; For after all, 
The Folly of it.  what does it so Zealously pursue, or what can be the Gains of it, when rightly computed? It is giving Chase to a Vapour, catching at Smoke, instead of Fire and Light; Embracing a Shadow, in steadof Body and Substance; It is making a Man's whole Happiness precarious, suspending all the Satisfaction and Content of his Mind, upon Popular Opinion, the Humour, and the Breath of an ignorant and changing Multitude. It is a voluntary, and consequently the very worst, and most despicable Slavery; the parting with our own Native Rights and Liberties, and depending upon the Arbitrary Passions of other People: 'Tis the putting one's self under perpetual Constraint; and engaging to act contrary to ones own Sense, in Hopes, by displeasing and disapproving ourselves, to please and gain the Approbation of Standers-by; 'tis a sacrificing our Affections and Reason to the Capriciousness of Spectators; 'Tis the prostituting of Conscience to common Opinion; renouncing all Love of Virtue, any farther than the World shall please to like, and keep it in Countenance; and 'tis the doing of Good, not for the Sake of Goodness, but merely in Consideration of the Credit and Advantage to be got by it. In a Word, such Men are like full Vessels, that must be pierced for the Liquor they contain; not one Drop can be drawn from them, unless you give them Vent; nor any Benefit to be had of these Qualities, but such as takes Air.  
Ambition hath no Bounds; 
'Tis Insatiable.  'tis a deep Gulf without Bank or Bottom; This is that true Vacuum, or vast empty Space, which the Philosophers after all their Study, have never been able to discover in Nature; a Fire that feeds, and grows upon the Fuel we heap upon it. And in this Respect indeed it is just to its Master, and pays him for his Pains. For Ambition is only just in this, that it is sufficient for its own Punishment, and never fails to tease and torment itself abundantly. What the Poets have couched under the Fable of Ixion, is the Restless Motion of the Ambitious Man's Desires; These are the Wheel that rolls to all Eternity within its own Circle, and, by its constant and wearisome Returns, gives no quiet, no relaxation to the Mind of the Vain Man that is condemned to turn it.  
Some, 
The Excuses for it, vain.  who have undertaken to flatter Ambition, pretend in its Vindication, that it is of great Use to Virtue, a Whetstone and Spur to brave and noble Erterprises. For Men are content to abandon many other Vices, for the Sake of This; and by Degrees come at last to resign this too, for the Sake of Virtue. But alas! the Matter, when critically examined, will be sound far otherwise. 'Tis true, Ambition covers over, and conceals many Vices; but it takes away, and throughly reforms never a one. And even that Industrious Concealment, is but for a Season. It rakes them up, like Fire in the Embers, under the Dust and Rubbish of Hypocrisy, and Mischievous Dissimulation; but it is only to keep the Fire from going out, that it may be blown up, and flame out again more fiercely than ever, as soon as this Cheat hath carried its Point, and Men have gained Authority sufficient to bear them out in Barefaced Wickedness. When the Man is in Power, and too Big for Punishment, or Control; then, and not before, you see what he truly is. Before that, trust him not; for if you do, you will be apt to mistake him. When Serpents are numbed with Cold, they have still the same Venom in their Nature, though the Effects of it be suspended for the present: And the Ambitious Man hath still the same Vices, the same Heat and Fury; he carries it about him; how Gentle, and Tame, and Cool soever his Disguise may be. The Fish is not yet caught; but when it is, than he will come abroad, in his true Colours, and Natural Complexion; and though Ambition should make so good Progress toward Virtue, as to quit all other Vices; yet there is but very little Hope or Appearance of its ever renouncing itself. It bushes Men to Brave and Illustrious Actions, I confess it; and the Benefit of these Actions to the Public is unspeakable; but though Others may reap the Fruit, and be the better for such Actions, yet it will not follow, that the Person who does them is one whit the Better for them. These may be the Effect of Passion, and not of Virtue or Principles; and if they be so, this Excuse is vain. For at present it is not the Profit, but the Intrinsic Goodness of such Exploits, that we are enquiring into. I know indeed this Passion shelters itself under that very excellent Maxim, That We are not born for ourselves alone, but for the General Good of Mankind; But how good a Sanctuary this is, the Methods made Use of for rising in the World, and men's Behaviour after their Promotions and Successes, must show. And These, if they be nicely observed, will give us Cause to suspect, that the Men, who talk at this Rate, speak against their own Consciences; and that private Interest is at least an equal, if not a stronger Motive to the Generality of Mankind, than the Good of others. Men look nearer Home in all they do, and That, how large soever the Pretensions to it may be, (for we cannot wonder, that Men should pretend at least to One of the best and most valuable Qualities in the World,) yet a truly Public Spirit is very rarely to be found.  
See Advice and Remedies against this Passion in particular. Book III. Chap. 42.   

CHAP. XXI. Of Avarice, and the Passions opposite to it.  
BY Avarice is to be understood an inordinate Love, 
What it is.  and vehement Desire of Riches. Tho', indeed, it is not only, the Love and Fondness for them, that deserve this Name, but all Sort of overcurious Niceness, and solicitous Concern about Riches will bear it very justly; even the Care of distributing them; and Liberality itself, if it take up too much of our Time and Pains, in ordering and making it exact. In short, All manner of Anxious Thought, with Relation to Riches, savours strongly of this Passion; for they ought to be entertained and used with a becoming Negligence, and to be looked upon, as they really are, not worth any earnest Attention of the Mind, nor a sit Object of our Care and Trouble.  
The vehement Desire of Riches, and the mighty Pleasure of Possessing them, is merely Fantastical; a Creature of our own Imagination, and hath no Being, no Foundation in Nature at all. 'Tis a Canker, or Gangrene in the Soul, that spreads and mortifies, and with its Venom corrodes and quite consumes all Our Natural Affections, and fills us with noxious and virulent Humours in their stead. No sooner hath This taken up its Dwelling in our Hearts, but immediately all those Tendernesses, and kind Concerns are banished thence, which either Nature inspires, or Virtue recommends, and improves in us. All the Duties and Regards we own to our Relations, to our Friends; nay, to our very Selves, are no longer of any Consideration with us. All the World, when set in competition with Interest and Profit, goes for Nothing; and at last we come to that pass, as even to overlook and despise our own Persons; our Ease, our Health, our Bodies, our Souls, All are sacrificed to this Darling, this adored Wealth; and, as the Proverb expresses it, We sell the Horse to get the Provender.  
Avarice is a mean sordid Passion; the Temper, 
The Folly and Misery of it.  or rather the Disease, of Fools and Earthworms, who esteem Riches, as the Supreme Good, and most exquisite Attainment Humane Nature is capable of; and dread Poverty as the Last of Evils; who cannot content themselves with a bare Competency, or such Provisions as are necessary for their Subsistence, which indeed are so small, that very few want them. They measure their Riches by the Bags and Weights of Bankers, and Goldsmiths; whereas Nature teaches us to make a different Judgement, and directs us to the Standard of our own just Occasions. Now, is not this the very Extremity of Folly, to fall down and worship That, which Nature hath taught us to despise, by casting it under our Feet, and hiding it in the Bowels and dark Caverns of the Earth; as a thing not fit for public view; but to be trampled and trod upon, as a just Object of our Neglect, and an Intimation of its own Worthlessness? There it was Originally, and there it had remained to all Eternity, had not the Vices of Mankind ransacked those dark Cells, and with great Difficulty and Violence drawn it up: And great their Reward of such Industry hath been: For what have they gained by it, but the Ground of infinite Controversies, and Quarrels, and Bloodshed, and Rapine, a Fatal Instrument of devouring and destroying one another? 
* In lucem propter quae pugnaremus excutimus; non erubescim us summa apud nos haberi, quae fuerunt ima Terrarum.  We take unspeakable Pains to fetch up that above Ground (says one) which, when we have it, serves us only to fight for. Nay, we are not out of Countenance to have those very Things in highest Esteem, which God and Nature had made lowest, and thought the deepest Mines of the Earth, a Place Good enough for. Nature indeed seems in some Measure to have given sure Presages, how Miserable those Men should be, who are in Love with Gold, by the manner of its Growth, and the Quality of the Soil that produces it. For, as That Ground where the Veins of this Metal are found, is Unprofitable for other Uses; and neither Grass, nor Plants, nor any other Thing, of Value and Service to Mankind, will grow there; it is in this Respect a most lively Emblem of the Minds of Men, which are enamoured with it; They being, in like manner, the most sordid, and abject, and abandoned Wretches, cursed and condemned to Barrenness; void of all Honour, lost to all Virue; and no kind of thing that is Good in itself, or Beneficial to the World, is to be obtained, or expected from them. What a horrible Degradation is this? and how do we lessen and disparage ourselves, when we give up that Dominion and Liberty to which we were born, by becoming Servants and Slaves to the very meanest of our Subjects? 
* Apud Sapientem Divitiae sunt in Servitute, apud Stultum in Imperio.  For Riches (as is most truly observed) are the Wise Man's Servants, and the Fool's Masters. And in Truth, the Covetous Man cannot be so properly said to possess Wealth, as That may be said to possess Him. He hath it indeed, but he hath it in such a Sense only, as he hath a Fever, or some violent Disease, which hath got an absolute Mastery over him, and preys upon his Vitals, and all his Faculties. How extravagant is it to dote upon That, which neither hath any Goodness of its own, nor was ever able to make any one Man Good since the beginning of the World? A thing that Providence distributes Promiscuously, and with a negligent Hand; scattered in common to all the World, and the greatest Share, very often, permitted to the worst and most scandalous Part of Mankind? Nor is this all. For, though the Thing be indifferent in its own Nature, and that single Consideration is sufficient to wean, or at least to moderate our Affections; yet the Effects and Consequences of it are by no means indifferent, but in the Issue and Event, incline strongly to the Worse. The debasement of men's Minds, and the depravation of their Manners, being the manifest and frequent Effect of it. And, though it cannot be proved, that Riches ever reformed one ill Disposition, and made it Virtuous; yet there are innumerable Instances of Persons otherwise well-disposed, who have been corrupted, and made Vicious by their Means. And when we have computed all the Conveniences that attend them, and represented these in their best Light, and to all possible Advantage; it must be acknowledged after all, that a great many wise Men have lived very Easy and Happy without them; and a great many more foolish and naughty Men have died Scandalously for them. So then They are no necessary Ingredient of Life, and they expose us to Danger, and Disgrace, and Death. In a Word, This is to act upon ourselves the Barbarity and Tyranny, for which the cruel Mezentius was Infamous; to tie the living Body to the dead Carcase, that so it may languish, and expire with greater Torment; to mix a Noble and Refined Spirit, with the Dross and Excrement of the Earth; to perplex and involve the Soul with innumerable Difficulties, and Tortures, which this Passion will be sure to bring upon it; to entangle one's self in the Snares of the Wicked one, and voluntarily to be taken Captive by the Adversary of Souls, as the Scripture admirably expresses it. And, indeed, there is scarce any Vice more pathetically, and more frequently decried in those Holy Books. Where we find these very significant Characters given of It; 
Luk. xuj. 9 Matt. xiii. 22. 1 Tim. vi. 9 Coloss. iii. 5. 1 Tim. vi. 10.  The Unrighteous Mammon; The Thorns which choke the Good Seed, of Piety and Virtue; The Robber, that steals away men's Hearts and Affections; The Nets and Snares of the Devil; The Idolatry, that draws Men off from the Regard and Worship of the True God; and The Love of Money, which is the Root of all Evil. And sure, if Men would but turn their Eyes inward, and observe that Rust and fretting Canker of Sins and Discontents, and desperate Anxieties, which Riches breed in their Hearts, with the same Attention and Diligence, that they gaze upon their glittering Metals with, the Consequence of This must be, that They would then be as much, and as generally hated and despised, as now, we see, they are beloved and admired. 
* Defunt Inopiae multa, Avaritiae omnia.  Necessity wants many things; Covetousness wants every thing. 
† Avarus in nullum bonus est, in se pessimus.  The Covetous Man is good to no body, but worst of all to himself.  
Not but that there is another Passion in the contrary Extreme, 
The contrary Passion.  which is by no means free from Vice neither; and that is, a downright Detestation, and obstinate Refusal of Riches: For this is Refusing the Means and the Opportunities of doing good, and putting it out of a Man's own power to practise many excellent and very beneficial Virtues. There needs but little Consideration to convince us, that the using Riches as one ought, and getting an absolute Dominion over them, is a Task much more laborious and difficult, than the being content under the Want of them; and a Prudent and Virtuous Behaviour in Poverty, is more attainable than a steady Goodness in the midst of Plenty. In the former of these Circumstances, a Man hath but One Attack to guard, and may bend all his Forces against That without Distraction; If he can but keep his Courage up from sinking under the Affliction, and maintain his Ground with Constancy and Resolution, he hath done his Business effectually. But the Temptations of Wealth and Prosperity are Various, I had almost said infinite; and the Duties which are expected from Persons in that Condition, are proportionably so too. There must be Temperance in the Use of them; Mederation in our Desires; Liberality to those that want the Comforts we enjoy; Prudence in the Choice of sit Objects to exercise that Liberality upon; Humility, and Meekness, and Condescension, and several others, too numerous to be specified particularly. The Indigent Man hath only his own Virtue to take care of; the Rich must preserve That, and hath another Task of Action and Distribution to take Care of afterwards. He that devests himself of large Possessions, is at leisure for greater and better things, which moved some Philosophers and Christians to do so. He does at the same time disburden himself of a world of Cares and Sorrows, of Duties and Dissiculties unavoidable, which attend the Management of himself, first in the Pursuit and Acquisition, then in the Keeping, then in the Using and Dispensing of Wealth. So that upon the whole Matter, (except when done upon a Principle of Charity and Religion) This is only the declining of Solicitude, and Business, and Trouble; and when such Men pretend to Resignation, and Magnanimity, and Contempt of the World, I should make no scruple to tell them very freely, Gentlemen, You renounce these things, not because They are Advantageous, and You are get above them, but because You know not how to make a right use of them, and are afraid of the Trouble and Hazard, which those who make it their Business to possess and manage them as they ought, are of necessity exposed to. For when all is done, though Riches do not deserve our Hearts, and are an Object too low for our Affections, yet they are as much too high for our Disdain. And tho' no Wise Man will suffer himself to be brought into Bondage to them, nor desire them Immoderately, nor get them Indirectly, nor place his Happiness in them; yet when the Bounty of Providence hath dealt them to us fairly, and made them our Lot; in such a Case what Seneca hath observed is undoubtedly true, That for a Man not to be able to bear a plentiful Fortune, is not an Argument of his Wisdom, but a Symptom of his Weakness and Littleness of Soul.   

CHAP. XXII. Of Sensuality; and Carnal Love in particular.  
THis is a burning Fever, and furious Passion; 
'Tis stren naturally, and common.  and the Consequences of it are infinitely dangerous, when a Man suffers himself to be vanquished and overborne by it. Such a one is no longer at his own Disposal; His Body shall endure a Thousand Tortures in pursuit of Pleasure; His Mind a Thousand Reproaching and Self-Condemnations: In short, he feels a perpetual Hell, for the Service and Gratification of his filthy Desire; That Desire, if allowed, and let alone, will turn to Rage and Madness; and yet a great part of this is unavoidable: For Nature hath given us the Inclination; and That is the Reason why it is common to All, and very strong in the greatest part of Mankind. The Care incumbent upon Us must be, to keep a straight Hand, and a constant Watch over this Passion; To check and divert its first Irregularities, and cool those Fires which we cannot absolutely quench: For, if indulged, it levels Men with Brutes, stupisies all our Wisdom, baffles our Resolution, confounds our Prudence and Conduct, breaks in upon our Contemplation, hardens the Conscience, blinds the Eyes of the Mind, and disturbs all the Operations of our most noble Faculties. This convinced Alexander that he was Mortal; and is such another Argument of our Frailty, as Sleep is; for both of them agree in suspending, suppressing, and binding up the Powers of the Reasonable Soul.  
Philesophy takes upon it to treat of all manner of Subjects, 
The Chams C●●li, whence.  and uses great Freedom of Expression in doing so; that so the true Causes of Things may he discovered, a right Judgement made of them, and proper Rules and Directions given for the governing ourselves with regard to them. The same thing Divinity does likewise, which is a Science insmitely more sublime and refin'd, of nicer Honour, and greater Modesly and Reserve. And this Liberty may sometimes be very Convenient, nay very Innocent and Chaste; for the Sun shines upon Dunghills without contracting any of the Pollution, or ill Scents, by his Rays that fall there. But this is a Case that requires great Tenderness and Caution, and usually Silence is the most becoming, and the most profitable: For one had better altogether conceal and suppress those things, which, when intended for Could, are yet liable and likely to be made an ill use of, by most of Those, into whose hands they shall. And highly probable it is, that many Persons have learned to be more exquisite in their Vices of this kind, by those very Precepts and particular Instructions, designed to teach them how to prevent or conquer those Exorbitances. 'Tis true indeed, Nature by strong Impulses persuades to these Gratifications; but yet it is as true, that she teaches us to blush, and be out of Countenance at the very Mention of what she is so importunate for. Some indeed pretend, that we ought to be ashahed of nothing that is Natural; and that this A●●elation of Modesty serves only to sharpen Men's Appetites the more; That we may as well be ashamed for the Infirmities of our Bodies, the spontaneous Motions of our Lungs, and Heart, and Veins, and Arteries; our Eating, and Drinking, and Weariness, and Pain, and Sickness, and Dying; all which, like This before us, have their Motions and Intervals, without our Consent or Knowledge; return by certain necessary Causes, and act upon us by unseen Springs; and All, like This too, betray the great Weakness, and Indigent State of Humane Nature. Our Brain discharges itself by Defluxions, our Eyes by Tears, our Body by proper Evacuations; our Faces grow red or pale; our Bodies fat and lean; our Hair black, or white, or grey; and we are not concerned in, or for these things; which yet are no more Natural than This; yet They, or any Discourse of Them, is by no means ignominious or unbecoming, and in the present Case it is. To all which Objections it were sufficient to oppose the general Sense and Practice of all civilised Persons and Countries, who, in proportion to their being polished and refin'd above others, have ever expressed a greater Reserve in educating their Children, in their own Behaviour and Conversation, and in looking upon all such as Impudent and Profligate, who indulge lose and wanton Discourse; and even They, who are but too much Friends and Slaves to this Passion, choose rather to provoke it by distant Mysterious Expressions, and nauseate the Roug● 〈◊〉 Rudeness of blunt uncomely Language. 〈…〉 you will ask, whence this Shame proceeds 〈…〉 how that Custom became so general. The Certification of these Appetites, I grant you, is 〈◊〉 shameful in itself in the least: It is truly and properly Natural, and no Shame is due to it sim ply considered; for Beasts 'tis plain have no Sense of any. But why do I speak of Beasts? The Sacred Oracles of God themselves, have told us expressly, that This is no Appendage of our Nature; that while Man preserved his primitive Purity, and was in that Condition which was Originally and truly Humane, he had no Sense of Shame, 
Gon. two. 25.  nor ever blushed at his own Nakedness. Every Work of God is Sacred and Good, and nothing but the Abuse can cast a Blemish upon it. So that in truth, Shame is only the Essect of Weakness, and that Weakness the Essect of Sin. Shame came into the World afterwards, and by Accident; it was no part of the Creation, hath no Eeing in Nature, but is the Creature of our own Wickedness, and what we have brought upon our own selves, by making the Workmanship of God, Instruments of Vice and Pollution.  
The true Reason then, which makes this Passion so violently condemned and run down, 
Hue it is Vibra.  is not from any real Vice, or Shame in it, when considered abstractedly, and in its own Nature; but from the general Corruption and Inordinacy Men are betrayed into by it. For how very few are there, that have any regard to Moderation, or Discretion, or Decency? What infinite indirect Methods do they use for the gratifying of these Appetites? What Quarrels and Disturbances, what Wars and public Consusions, what Desolation and Ruin have been owing to this accursed Cause, this common, but most fatal Incendiary of Mankind? Insomuch that the Wickedness of the Means that introduce these Pleasures, and the long black Train of Consequences they draw after them, are worse a Thousand times than the Thing itself: The Expense and Damages are infinitely more than the Purchase is worth. And all these ill Effects are peculiar to Mankind, for other Creatures know nothing of all this Clutter. But Men have used great Industry to Trapan themselves: On one side they make Laws to keep them off, urge Religion, and Modesty, and Decency, to restrain their Desires; and yet, on the other hand, they sharpen and inflame them, set all their Wits at work to contrive, to confound, to get over every thing for the compassing their Desires: Witness Comedy and Poetry particularly, whose pretended Beauties, even when most Chaste, were chief seen in amorous Subjects; but now they have perfectly prostituted themselves to Lewdness, and seem to design nothing so much, as the laughing Virtue and Reserve out of Doors, as if These were the things we ought most to be ashamed of. But of all others, the most mischievous Corruption of Nature seems to be the setting an extravagant value upon stolen and unlawful Pleasures; representing Injuries of this kind as a piece of Gallantry and Accomplishment; and suffering those Methods to be despised and ridiculed, which both Divine and Humane Constitutions have assigned for satisfying Men's Natural Desires, by Honest and Honourable Marriage.  
For Directions and Remedies against this Vice, consult Book III. Chap. 41.   

CHAP. XXIII. Desires.  
THE Sea itself hath not more Waves and Billows, 
Desire's infinite.  more inconstant nor more furious in their Toss and Rollings, than the Heart of Man hath Desires. This is a vast and boundless Ocean too, governed by Winds and Tides, various and uncertain; it is confused and irresolute; sometimes wicked and detestable, but very frequently vain and ridiculous in its Desires.  
But the first and most necessary part of this Consideration, 
Their Distinctions.  aught to be a due Care to distinguish them rightly; for this is what they are very capable of. And here you may observe, That Some of these are Natural; and they that be so, are just and lawful, and common to Us with Beasts: They are likewise short, and bounded in a narrow Compass; a Man may easily see to the End of them. For These there is abundant Provision, and no Man is poor in this respect. An Occasion of enlarging upon these will present it seif more conveniently hereafter; for in truth they do not properly belong to the Subject we are now upon, since, strictly speaking, they are not Passions.  
The Others are either beside, or beyond Nature; they have no Foundation in our Frame and Temper, but exist only in our Opinions, and are the Offspring of Fancy and Imagination; these are Artificially formed by Industry and strong Impression; they are superfluous too; serve only to gratify our Humours, not to supply any real Necessities. And if you would have them distinguished from the former by a different Name, call them if you please, the Covet of the Soul. These are entirely our own; The Portion or the Scandal of our Species. Beasts are altogether unacquainted with them; Man is the only Creature irregular in his Appetites. These have no certain Mark to aim at, no End where to stop; but are eternally in Motion, run wild and at random, and know not what they would have. 
* Desideria naturalia sinita sunt. Ex falsâ op ni●ne nascentia ubi desinant non habent Nullus enim Terminus falso est. Vià eunti aliquid extremum est, Error immensus est. Senec.  The Desires which Nature suggests, are determined and finite; but those which arise from Opinion and Whimsy, are infinite; For Error knows no Bounds. A Man that goes in the Road must come to his Journey's End at last; but he that wanders out of the Way, may wander for ever. With regard to These, no Man ever was, none ever can be Rich or Contented. Somewhat constantly falls short, or some fresh thing is wanting. Of these it is that the Poet speaks, 


Scilicet improbae  
Creseunt Divitiae; tamen  
Curtae nescio quid semper abest rei.   
Creech, Horat. Od. XXIV Lib. III.  Their Stores increase, and yet I know not what,  
Still they do something want,  
Which neither Pains can get, nor Heaven cangrant,  
To swell their narrow, to a full Estate.  To such wanton Long of the Soul, the Characters set down at the beginning of this Chapter agree; and They are what we mean, and are now treating of under this Head of Passions. These are the things we sweat and toil so vehemently for, the gaining what we might very well be without, and the satisfying Desires which we ought not to entertain. 'Tis upon the Account, and for the Sake of These, That we compass Sea and Land; that we take up Arms, and kill one another; nay, that Men kill and drown themselves, betray and ruin themselves; which gave just grounds for saying, that Covetousness is the Root of all Evil. The Matter indeed is sometimes so ordered by Providence, that this inordinate Passion of the Mind should be made its own Punishment; and while Men are greedy to gratify their fantastical Wants, and glut themselves with the Riches and Pleasures of Fortune, they lose a real Good, and cut themselves off from the Advantages of Nature. Which are so much more valuable than the other, that Diogenes, who refused the large Present of Money offered by Alexander, desired as a greater Favour, that he would please to stand aside, and not hinder him from the Comfort and Brightness of the warm Sunshine.   

CHAP. XXIV. Hope and Despair.  
THOSE Desires which are Natural, and these Covet last mentioned, which are Accidental, and Diseases to the Soul, are cherished by Hope. This inspires them with Warmth and Strength; this blows up our extravagant Imaginations with a gentle and pleasing Breath; kindles a Fire in our Minds, but raises so thick a Smoke withal, that it quite blinds the Understanding; our Thoughts are lost and bewildered, and violently carried away with it; it keeps us in perpetual Suspense, and makes us dream with our Eyes waking. As long as ever our Hopes last, we never let go our Desires. But on the other hand, when once Despair takes possession of us, the Soul is perfectly put upon the Rack; and the Thought that we shall never be able to obtain what we aim at, is so torturing and violent, that it bears down all before it; and we lose what we stand actually possessed of, for the sake of somewhat which we apprehend impossible to be possessed. This Passion is like froward Children, who, when you take away one of their Play-things, throw the rest into the Fire for Madness. It grows angry with itself, turns its own Executioner, and revenges its Misfortunes upon its own Head. It refuses to live under Disappointments and Crosses, and chooses rather not to be at all, than to be without the Thing which it hath once imagined necessary to its Happiness. And thus you have had a short account of those Passions, which have some apparent Good for their Object; we will proceed in the next place to consider those others, which arise from the Apprehension of Evil.   

CHAP. XXV. Of Anger.  
ANger is a foolish and a frantic Passion, which puts us quite besides ourselves; 
Description  and by seeking some means of beating back the Evil, that either approaches and threatens, or hath already reached and fallen upon us, makes the Blood boil in our Hearts, and raises wild and furious Vapours in our Mind; such as blind and pervert our Reason, and thrust us headlong upon any, tho' never so desperate Attempts, that may contribute to the satisfying those Desires we have of taking Revenge, and doing Mischief upon the Person that gave the Provocation. It is a short Madness, and dangerous, not only for the time it continues, but as it prepares and opens the way for a lasting Frenzy and Distraction. The Motions of it are so sudden, the Violence so strong, that it overpowers all our other Passions, swallows them up quite, or carries them along with it by the force of its own Torrent.  
The Causes from whence it arises are various. Weakness of Judgement, 
Its Causes.  which is most remarkable in Women and Children, 
I.  Aged and Sick People; whom Experience shows to be of all others most fretful and peevish, and easy to be provoked. 
* Invalidum omne naturâ querulum est.  Every thing that is infirm, is naturally disposed to be querulous and froward. It is a Mistake as great as it is common, to imagine that Fierceness and Rage is an Argument of Courage: For all violent Motions are like the Efforts of Old Men and Children, who run when they would walk, and go faster, because they have not Strength enough to go how. There is not in the World any thing so feeble as an irregular and unsteady Motion; and therefore Anger, which is such in the Mind, is rather a Mark of Infirmity and Cowardice. It is a Distemper in the Soul, which makes it tender and sore, not able to endure Offences; as Hurts and Wounds in the Body render the Smart of every little Blow intolerable. Were it in a State of perfect Health and Soundness, every Trifle could not create so great a Disorder. 
† Nusquam sine querel● aegra tanguntur.  But when all is full of Aches and Diseases, the gentlest Touch is treublesome, and it is always complaining, because always ailing. A Miser will fume and storm for the loss of a Penny, for the missing of some Advantage which he might have gained; A jealous Husband will fall into a Rage for the most innocent Smile of his Wise, or the least Glance of her Eye. 
II.  Luxury and Niceness, or any particular Fancy, that renders a Man Singular and Humorsom, and Uneasy, is apt upon the least Accident which crosses that Humour, to put him into Passion; and 
‖ Nulla res magis Iracundiam alit, quam Luxuria.  No one thing (says a great Philosopher) cherishes Anger more than this vain Temper. 
III.  So again does the being fond of any little trifling things, not worth our Affection and Concern: A Glass, a Dog, a Bird; This is a Folly that gives us a great deal of Trouble, and often exposes us to most unreasonable Passions; the least of which is more than they can possibly deserve. Another Cause is Curiosity, 
iv  and a busy inquisitive Temper. 
* Qui nimis inquirit, seipsum inquietar.  He that asks too many Questions, is solicitous to disquiet himself: This is so far from avoiding, and conniving at, that it is seeking Occasions, hunting about, and following the Scent, and with great Eagerness and Pleasure running abroad after Provocations, without having the Patience to stay till They come home to Us. Sometimes indeed (says Seneca) Anger comes to Us, but not near so often as We go to It. 
V  Another is Credulity and Easiness, the suffering ourselves to be possessed with the first Account, and the first Chance-comer, and not reserving an Ear free for the other side of the Cause, nor suspending our Belief, till more perfect Information. But the Principal, 
VI  and indeed the very formal Cause of Anger, is an Opinion that we have been undervalued, and ill used; That some Word, some Look, (for any thing will serve) carried an Air of Contempt, and was less respectful than it ought to have been. This is always the Argument angry Men lay hold of in their own Justification. And no wonder then, that Proud Men are most Choleric, and fuller of Resentment than any others, since no other Disposition makes Men think so much their Due, and consequently inclines them to be so jealous of Affronts, and Omissions in point of Respect. For which Reason the Scripture tells us, 
Prov. xiii. 10. xxi. 24.  that Only by Pride cometh Contention, in one Place, and Styles it most Emphatically Proud Wrath in another.  
The Signs and Symptoms of this Passion are many, and manifest, 
Signs of it.  more and more visible than those of any other; and so Strange and Strong, that they make a mighty Difference in the Person, altar the whole Temper and Frame both of Body and Mind, transform and turn him into quite another Man. Insomuch, that 
* Ut sit difficile, utrum magis detestabile vitium, aut deform.  it is not easy to say, whether this Vice be more detestable, or more deformed and disfiguring; Some of these Changes and Symptoms, are outward and apparent: Redness and Distortions of the Face, Fieryness of the Eyes, a wild and enraged Look, Deasness and Insensibility in the Ears, Foaming at the Mouth, Palpitation of the Heart; Quickness and Unevenness of the Pulse, Swelling and Bursting Fullness of the Veins, Stammering in the Tongue, Gnashing and Setting of the Teeth, Loudness and Hoarseness in the Voice, The Speech thick and indistinct; and in short, The whole Body is set on Fire, and in a perfect Fever. Some have been transported to such a Degree, upon these Occasions, that their very Veins have broke, their Urine stopped, and they have dropped down Dead, being stifled and strangled with excess of Passion. And what Condition can we suppose their Mind must be in in the mean while, when the Disorders of the Body are so Violent and Dismal? Anger at the first Brush, quite banishes Reason and confounds the Judgement; clears all before it, and taketh possession for itself alone; and when it hath got it, than it sills all with Fire and Smoke, with Darkness and Confusion, with Noise and Clamour; It is like a Robber, or an Enemy, that first drives the Master out of Doors, and then sets Fire to his House, and that, with such Fury and Madness, as to destroy and burn itself alive in haet Flames. It is like a Ship that hath neither Rudder, nor Pilot; neither Sails, nor Oars, nor Ballast; but floats about at Random, and commits itself to the Mercy of Winds, and Waves, and that, when the Sea rides Highest, and the Storms are Loudest and most Raging. And what can be expected in such a Case, but Strandings and Shipwrecks, when there are so many Rocks on every Side, to break her to Pieces, so many Quicksands to swallow her up, when she thus lets herself drive upon them?  
This leads us to consider its Effects; which are indeed, very great, and for the most Part, 
Its Effects.  exceedingly Wretched, and Deplorable.  
I. For First; Anger urges and exposes us to Injustice; it takes Fire afresh, and is rendered more Violent and Fierce, by any Opposition, though never so Reasonable and Fair; and that too, not only by Dispute from others, but even from a Man's own Senses and Reflection, and the being Conscious to himself, that he is Angry, either without any just Cause, or to a greater Degree than the Provocation deserved. When a Man hath thus fussered his Reason to be shaken and disturbed, let one with all the Calmness imaginable, offer the clearest Vindication, the justest Excuse, any thing to remove or mitigate this Passion, all is to no Purpose, or to worse than none; for Truth and Innocence are still but more enraging, as Seneca observes: In such Cases 
* Pertinaciores nos facit iniquitas irae, quasi argumentum sit justè irascendi, graviter irasci.  the Unreasonableness of our Passion makes us so much more obstinate and unpersuadable, as if the being very Angry, and Implacable, were the best Argument that the Ground of our Anger is Just. The Example of Piso upon this Occasion is well worth our Observation, and the Story is generally known. He, who was in other Respects Eminent for Virtue and Goodness, yet once in Heat of Passion pat Three Persons to Death Unjustly; and strained the Law to bring them in Guilty, only because there had been one proved not Guilty, whom he by a former Sentence had adjudged Guilty. Anger is likewise exasperated by Silence and Coldness, because such Indisserence speaks Scorn and Neglect; and when Men see their Resentments make no Impression, they look upon themselves to be slighted and affronted. This is very usual with Women, who oftentimes put themselves into a Passion, purely for the Sake of putting other People into one too; And when they see, that a Man does not condescend to be Angry, and refuse to heap on more Fuel, they take all imaginable Pains to cherish and blow up their own Fire, and grow perfectly Outrageous. So Wild and Savage a Beast is Anger, so Fierce and Intractable, that neither Vindications nor Submissions; neither Excusing nor Acknowledging; neither Speaking nor holding one's Peace, can do any Good upon it. No soul Means can tame, no fair ones win it over, or make it Gentle. The Injustice of this Passion is farther Evident, in that it always takes upon itself to be both Party and Judge in the same Cause; in that it expects all manner of People that hear or know any thing of the Matter, should take its Part, and justify its Proceed; and takes it mortally Ill, nay, flies in the very Faces of all that either stand Neuter, or in any Degree seem to think it in the Wrong.  
II. A Second Effect of this Passion is Headiness and Obstinacy, Rashness and Inconsideration. It drives us forward, and thrusts us down Headlong, into unspeakable Mischiefs; and very often draws upon our own Heads the very Calamities we are endeavouring to avoid by being Angry; the very same Sufferings, or many times worse than those, which We in the bitterness of our Malice and Revenge, are so eager to inflict upon others; and thas, while it punishes an Enemy, it tortures and execates itself. This Passion is no ill Resemblance of Great Rains, which crush indeed, and batter what ever they fall upon, but in the same Fall, break themselves to Pieces. Anger is so eagerly bend upon the Hurt and Destruction of others, that it sights out of all Guard, and takes no manner of Care to avoid or ward off its own Death. It draws us in, and hampers us in a Thousand Inconveniences; puts us upon speaking and doing many things, that are Base and Unworthy, such as by no means become us, and what we cannot but be, at least we ought to be, most hearty Ashamed of. To be short; it transports Men to those Excesses of Extravagance and Rage, that they know not what they do; ensnares them in the most Injurious, the most Scandalous Actions; hurries them into Mischief incapable of any Reparation, Murders and Bloodshed; Treachery and Villainy, Poison, and secret Assassinations. Things that leave long and lasting Remorse behind, and such as they cannot but have very afflicting Remembrance of ever after. Alexander the Great was a remarkable Instance of this Kind; and ●ythageras used to say, that where Anger ended, there Repentance always began.  
This Passion is never to be convinced of Folly; it is Big, and always well Satisfied with its own Discretion and Justice; flatters and pleases itself with a Notion, that the Man does well, and wisely, to be Angry; clears itself from all manner of Blame, and lays the whole Fault upon some ill or indiscreet Thing done, that gave the Provocation. But, supposing another guilty of Injustice, it will not therefore follow, that my Anger is guilty of none. Suppose I receive Injury from another Hand, will my paying back the same, or a greater Wrong, take off what I suffer? Will it make me any real Amends, or bring any true Profit to me, that another Suffers as well as I? The Truth is, Anger hath too much of Obstinacy, and Hare-brained Giddiness, ever to do any Good. It pretends to cure one Evil, with another; and when we turn over an Offence to be corrected by this Passion, it is no better than setting Vice to chastise and punish itself. Reason, which ought always to bear the Sword, and exercise the Supreme Authority in our Breasts, does not desire any such  Officers to Execute her Commands, as do things upon their own Head, without waiting for Orders. Reason, like Nature, works easily and gradually, is sedate and slow; and whatever is Violent, is equally Foreign, and contrary to both.  
But you will say, What? must Virtue then be so Tame and soft, as to see the Insolences of Vice Triumphant, without any Degree of Indignation and Concern? Must she be so bound up, as not to take the Liberty of being Angry, nor dare to make any Opposition against unreasonable and wicked Men? To this I answer. Virtue hath its Freedoms, but they are such as are Just; it takes, it desires none, that are unfit, or unbecoming. It hath Courage too, but this Courage must not be employed against itself. Nor must another Man's Ill be converted to its Prejudice and Disturbance. A wise Man is as much obliged to bear the Vices of Naughty People without Passion, as he is to see their Prosperity without Envy. The Indiscretion of rash and heady Men, must be endured with the same Patience and Pity, that a Good Physician exercises toward his Patients, when they are under the Rave of a Fever. There is not any one Instance of Wisdom more Commendable in itself, nor more useful to the General Good of the World, than that of being able to bear with the Follies and Extravagances of other People. For if we do not so, the Consequence will be, that we shall fall into the same Extravagances; and by not supporting Their Follies, we make them our Own.  
What hath been spoken here at large, of Anger in particular, is in great Measure Applicable to the Passions that follow; such as Hatred, and Envy, and Revenge; for these are the same in Substance, and at the Bottom; They are Anger too, but they are somewhat otherwise modified, appearing in different Forms, and clothed with different Circumstances.  
Proper Advice, and Remedies, against this Pastion, will be treated of, Book III. Chap. 31.   

CHAP. XXVI. Hatred.  
HAtred is a very odd Passion. It gives us a great deal of unaccountable Vexation, contrary to all the Reason in the World. And yet, What is there more Torturing and Insupportable, than this Resentment? By It we put ourselves perfectly under the Dominion of the Thing we hate; and give it a Power to afflict and torment us. The Sight of it disturbs our Senses, ruffles our Spirits, and makes the whole Body Sick, and Disordered: The Remembrance of it raises a Storm in our Minds; and sleeping or waking, sills us with Disquiet and Impatience. The Ideas of such Objects, are always hideous and shocking; and we never entertain them without Indignation and Horror, Spite or Grief; some Resentment not easy to be expressed, which puts us beside ourselves, and rends our very Heart asunder. Thus we feel in our own Persons, all that Torment we wish another, and undergo the Punishment we think due to Him. He that hateth, is at this Rate the Patient, and he that is hated, the Agent. Thus it certainly is to all Intents and Purposes; excepting only, that we think sit to express it otherwise, and deceive ourselves with Words, and Names of Things; For it is evident to common Sense, that the Haler is in Pain, and the Person beted, in perfect Ease; perhaps too, in perfect Ignorance of the Matter. But after all, let us consider, and examine this Point a little. What is it that we hate? Men? or Things? Be it the one, or the other, 'tis plain we do not pitch upon the right Object. For if any thing in the World deserves to be Hated hearty, it is Hatred itself, and such other Passions, which, like this, breed Discords, and raise Tumults in our Minds, and rebel against that Power, which of Right aught to Command, and bear an absolute Sway in us. For when our Enemies have done all they can, still neither They, nor any Thing else, but such exorhitant Passions as these, can do us any real, and essectual Injury.  
For Particular Directions against this Evil. See Bock III. Chap. 32.   

CHAP. XXVII. Envy.  
Envy is own Sister to Hatred; as like as Two Twins, in their Fierceness and Miserable Effects. This is a wild outrageous Beast indeed, more exquisite in Torture, than Ten Thousand Racks; and of All, that wretched Mankind feels, best deserves the Title of a Hell upon Earth. This lies perpetually corroding, and tearing the Heartstrings, and converts other men's Happiness into an occasion of Our Misery. And how Dreadful, how Incessant must that Vexation be, which both Good and Evil conspire to aggravate? Of the many ill Effects this Passion hath, That is a very considerable one; That, while Envious Men look awry upon the Prosperity of others, and grudge them Their Comforts; they unavoidably suffer their Own to perish, and slip through their Fingers; and have no Pleasure or true Enjoyment in all that the most bountiful Providence does, or can beslow upon Themselves.  
Directions and Remedies, Proper for this Evil, will be prescribed in Book III. Chap. 33.   

CHAP. XXVIII. Jealousy.  
THE Nature and the Effects of Jealousy have a mighty resemblance to that Passion of Envy last described, excepting only that they differ in this One Circumstance: The Good of other Men is the Object of our Envy; but our own Happiness is the Object of jealousy. Some Good, which we are desirous to engross to ourselves, and which we apprehend belongs to Us alone; for which Reason we dread and detest the Communication to any Person beside.  
Jealousy is a Disease of the Soul; an Argument of great Weakness; an evil and a foolish Disease, but withal a furious and terrible one: It rages and tyrannises over the Mind; insinuates itself under the pretence of extraordinary Friendship and Tenderness: But when it hath gotten Head, and taken Possession, it builds a mortal Hatred upon the Foundation of Kindness. Virtue, and Health, and Beauty, and Desert, and Reputation, which are the Attractives of our Love and Assection, are likewise the Motives and Incendiaries of this Passion; they kindle and minister fresh Fuel to both these Fires.  
This is Wormwood and Gall to us: It depraves and embitters all the Sweets of Life; and commonly mingles itself with our most delightful Enjoyments; and these it renders so sour and unpleasant, that nothing can be more uneasy to us. It tures Love into Hatred, Respect into Disdain, Assurance into Distrust: It breeds a most unhappy Curiosity; makes us busy and inquisitive to our own Ruin; desirous and impatient to know what nothing but the Ignorance of, can keep us tolerably easy under; and what, when we do know, there is no Cure for, but such as makes the Misfortune worse, and more painful. For Whither does all this Information tend, but only to bring the Matter out of Darkness and Doubt, into clear and open Day; To have Demonstration of our own Unhappiness, and to proclaim it to all the World; To make ourselves a public Jest, and to entail Shame and Dishonour upon our Families?  
Advice and Remedies against this Passion are to be met with in Book III. Chap. 35.   

CHAP. XXIX. Revenge.  
THE Desire of Revenge is, in the first place, a cowardly and esseminate Passion; an Argument of a weak and sordid, a narrow and abject Soul; and accordingly Experience teaches us, that Women and Children, and such others as have manifestly the feeblest Minds, are ever the most malicious, and disposed to Revenge. Brave and Generous Minds feel little of these Resentments: They despise and scorn it; either because an Injury, when done to them, does not make any great Impression; or that the Person who does it, is not thought considerable enough to give them any Disturbance; but so it is, that they feel themselves above any Commotions of this kind, as the Poet says, 
* Indignus Caesaris Ira.  A Wretch beneath the mighty Caesar's notice. Hail, and Thunder, Hurricanes and Tempests, and Earthquakes, all these disorderly Agitations, and loud Ratlings, which we see, and feel, and hear, are formed in these lower Regions of the Air; They never discompose, or in any Degree affect the Heavenly Bodies and higher Orbs; All there is quiet, and constant, and serene; These frail, and corruptible, and grosser Bodies only are they that suffer by them. And thus it is with the Rage and Folly, the Noise and Brawling, the Impudence and Impotent Malice of Fools: They never shake great Souls, nor carry so far as lofty and generous Minds: An Alexander or a Caesar, an Epaminondas or a Scipio, cannot be moved by all that such mean Wretches could do or say: For all truly Brave Men, and these in particular, have been so far from meditating Revenge, that, on the contrary, they were remarkable for doing good to their Enomies.  
Secondly, This is a very troublesome and restless Passion, full of Heat, full of Smart and Sting; it boils and bubbles in the Breast, and gnaws the Heart like a Viper; distracts the Men infected, disturbs their Enjoyments, takes off the Peace and Comfort of their Days, and breaks the Sleep of their Nights.  
It is also a Passion full of Injustice; for it tortures an innocent Person, and adds Grief and Pain to Him, that was wounded and afflicted before. It is properly the Party's Business who committed the Offence, to labour under the Remorse and the Punishment; and all those other ill Consequences, which the Desire of Revenge unavoidably draws after it. And yet by this, the Sufforing and Guiltless Party makes it his Care to load himself with these heavy Burdens, as if the receiving of the Injury were not of itself Affliction sufficient, without such voluntary and studied Aggravations. Thus it happens frequently, (generally indeed) that, while the Innocent and Injured is racking himself with the impatient Desires, and the Contrivance of proper Methods for Revenge, the guilty Aggressour enjoys himself in Ease and Pleasure, and perhaps makes the Other's Uneasiness a Jest and a Diversion. But This is only the Beginning of Mischiefs and Injustice; for the Means of putting such Desires in execution are yet infinitely more so; which indeed are of all, of any kinds; Baseness and Treachery, Perjury and Subornation, a secret Stab, or an Ambuscade of Russians; in short, the foulest, blackest, and most Villainous Designs: For one peculiar ill Effect of this Vice is, that it extinguishes all Natural Justice, breaks through all the Restraints of Honour and Duty, and sticks at no Practice, tho' never so foul and detestable, to accomplish its Bloody Intentions.  
Lastly. The very Execution of these Designs, is not only painful and difficult; but extremely dangerous: For Experience shows us daily, that he who endeavours to revenge himself, does not effect his whole Wish, nor is in every Point successful: Either he meets with a Defeat, and cannot do the Mischief he would; or at least he is disappointed as to his own Security and Satisfaction, and suffers the Mischief he would not. He attempts to put out One of his Enemy's Eyes, and at the same time puts out Both his own. He renders himself obnoxious to Justice, and brings Trouble and Danger to all his Friends; is lost to the World, and to his own Quiet; forced to hid and flee from Place to Place, and is every where dogged close at the Heels by his own guilty Fears.  
And after all; the Killing an Enemy, and dispatching him out of the way, may be Cruelty; but it is not properly Revenge: For a Man does then only take Satisfaction and Revenge, when he Humbles his Enemy, and forces him to Suffering and Submission; not when he puts him past all Suffering, and out of the reach of his Anger; the rendering of which Sensible and Painful, is the only End Revenge can propose to itself. Accordingly we see, no Man is so vain and absurd, to fall foul upon a Stone, or a Brute; because he knows these cannot feel, or cannot consider the Effects of his Rage. In all true Revenge, it is necessary, that the Person who executes it, should receive some Satisfaction in the Pains he inflicts; and that the Person, on whom it is inflicted, should feel the Smart, and be humbled by the Sorrow, and pay so dear for the Injury he hath done, that he may be made to repent it. But a Man that is killed, is out of any condition of Grief or Repentance; he is indeed from thenceforth essectually secured from all manner of Sussering: Whereas, on the contrary, the Revenger himself continues in a Capacity of both, and oftentimes feels the Weight of his own Displeasure, by a State of fixed Sorrow and Fear ever after. Killing then is only a Betraying of our Cowardice. It is the Consequence of our being afraid, that the Person we intent to punish, should Resent to our Prejudice, and take an opportunity of paying us again in our own Coin. We are willing from these Apprehensions to make an End of him at once, and rid ourselves from any future Hazard; which is indeed to quit our Point, to lose the End of Revenge, and cast a Blemish upon our own Reputation. It is an Artifice, and an act of Caution, rather than of Courage; It is an Intention to make sure Work, and consults our Safety much more than our 
* Quioccidit longè, non ulciscitur, nee gloriam assequitur.  Honour.   

CHAP. XXX. Cruelty.  
CRuelty is a most horrid and detestable Vice, a Quality peculiar to Villains and Brutes; so contrary to Nature, that it is distinguished by that scandalous Name of Inhumanity.  
It proceeds from, and indeed is the natural Effect of Baseness and Cowardice: For Valour and Generosity never exert their Power, except where they meet with Opposition. They have done their Business, and hold their hand, as soon as they find an Enemy subdued, and at their Mercy. This was the true Courage of brave old Romans, 
† Romana Virtus— Parcere Subjectis, & debellare Superbos.  to humble the Obstinate, and spare the Vanquished.  
But Cowardice, which affects a false Greatness, and pretends to Triumphs, which belong not to it, gluts itself with Blood and Massacres, instead of Generous Conquering: And accordingly, we always find, that Carnage and Slaughter, have only Common Soldiers, and the Plundering part of the Army, for its Executioners. And no surer Sign in the World can be given of Men's being timorous Poultrons, than their being fierce and bloody, and void of Pity and Remorse. This is the very Thing that disposes Tyrants and Usurpers to Cruelty; They live always in fear, and never think themselves tolerably safe, till those, that are in any condition of giving them Disturbance, are utterly extirpated; and therefore they lay about them, and fall foul upon every Body, without distinction; neither Age nor Sex can move Compassion, or seem inconsiderable enough to be spared. 

* Cuncta serit, dum cuncta timet.  Lavish of Blood the Coward kills; The Brave  
Holds his relenting band, and dares to save.  Sneaking and timorous Dogs by't and tear to Pieces the Skins and Carcases of wild Beasts, which they run away from, when alive and in the Fields. And what account can be given, why Civil Wars, and Popular Insurrections should spill more Blood than foreign Engagements? What more probable than This, that the great Ringleaders and Actors in Seditions and Domestic Differences, are the Mobb and Refuse of the People; whereas the Other are begun and fought upon Principles of Honour and Jusstice, by fair and generous Enemies? When the Emperor Mauritins had received Information, that one Phecas, a Soldier in his Army, designed to Kill him, he enquired into the Temper and Character of the Man: And upon his Son-in-Law Philip's acquainting him, that he was a Cowardly Fellow, the Emperor presently concluded, there was Danger indeed, and that such a one was cut out for Barbarity and Murder. Sometimes, 'tis true, Another Cause may be given for this Quality, which is an inward Malignity and Spite; a Soul that rejoices in Mischief, and Feasts upon Blood; such as Caligula seems to have been particularly. But it is to be hoped, few such Instances of Depravity are to be found; for indeed they are not Men, but Monsters in Humane Shape.   

CHAP. XXXI. Grief.  
GRief is a Sinking and Despondency of the Mind, 
Definition of it.  when dejected by an Opinion of some very great Evils lying heavy upon us. It is a very dangerous Enemy, destructive to our Quiet and Comfort; and, if good Care be not taken of it in time, wastes and weakens the Soul, deprives us of the Use of our Reason, disables us from discharging our Duties, and looking after her Business; and in time spreads a Rust upon the Soul, adulterates and deposes the whole Man, binds up his Senses, and lays his Virtues to sleep, when there is most occasion for rowzing and arming them against the Calamity, that subdues and oppresses him. In order to beget in us a becoming Aversion to this Passion, and employing our utmost Strength and Abilities to resist and repel it, we shall do well to consider seriously the pernicious Effects of it, and discover how foolish, how unbecoming and deformed it is; how extremely inconsistent with the Character of Wise Men, as the Philosophy of the Stoics most truly represents it. But This, as Matters are commonly ordered, is no such easy Undertaking; for it hath learned to excuse, and vindicate, and set itself off under the specious Colours of Nature, and Affection, and Tenderness, and Goodness; nay the Generality of the World are so far misled, that they keep it in Countenance, pay it Honour and Respect, and think it a Duty and a Virtue; as if Wisdom and Conscience never appeared more beautiful than in a Mourning-Dress.  
Now in answer to these vain Pretences in its Favour, 
'tis Unnatural.  we may observe first of all, that This is so far from being agreeable to Nature, as it would fain be thought, that, on the Contrary, it is rather a Matter of Formality, and directly contrary to Nature: Which it is very easy to demonstrate, if Men will lay aside the Prejudices of Custom, and consider it impartially. As for those public and solemn Mournings, (I mean not this to the prejudice of a real, decent, and affectionate Concern) but for the Mournings which are practised with so much Ceremony and Affectation, and were so by the Ancients heretofore, as well as by the Generality of Mankind at this Day; Where, I say, can we find a greater Cheat, a grosser Shame and Banter upon the World? How many industrious Impostures and Hypocrisies? What artificial Constraints in our Behaviour are sought, and counterfeited, both by the Persons themselves, who are interested in the Occasion of them; and of all the rest that are taken in, and bear a Part in this melancholy Pomp? And, as if all this were not enough, we refine and improve the Deceit, we even Hire Men on purpose to put on this Folly, to stand as Mutes, or to make dreadful Lamentations; to move and heighten a Passion which ought to be suppressed; to give Groans and Sighs for a Price, such as we all know are feigned and extorted; to shed Tears for the Entertainment of the Spectators, such as fall, only when they are seen to do so, and are immediately dried up, as soon as the Company retires: And, pray, Where does Nature teach us any thing like This? What can there be indeed more absurd and vain; what does Nature condemn, what does it detest more than such Insincerity? This is nothing but Opinion and Fashion, the Cause and Cherisher of almost all our Passions; the Tyranny of Custom, and Vulgar Error, that instructs Men to indulge their Grief in such a formal manner. From hence it is, that, if a Man be not deeply enough affected in his own Person, and cannot furnish a sufficient proportion of Tears and hanging Looks out of his own Stock, he is thought obliged to hire and purchase a Supply from others who make a Trade of it. So that for the satisfying what the World calls Decency, we put ourselves to vast Expense; which Nature, if we would take Her Judgement, is so far from prescribing, that She most freely acquits us of, nay condemns us for it. Is not this, in truth, a public and studied Assront upon Reason and Common Sense, a Constraint and a Corrupting of Nature, a Prostituting and Debauching of the Manhood in us, a Mocking the World, and making a Jest of ourselves; and that for no other purpose, but merely to comply with the Notions of the absurd Vulgar, which abound in nothing so much as Falsehood and Mistake, and admire nothing so much as Counterfeit and Disguise?  
Nor are our Private Sorrows much better: 
Private.  For These, whatever they may seem, are no more Natural than the former. Did Nature inspire or dictate them, they would be common to all Mankind; they would affect all Mankind almost equally; since All partake of the same Nature, and differ only in some few, some small Circumstances. But here we find very different Resentments: The same Objects, which afflict and grieve some, are Matter of Joy and Satisfaction to others; and what draws Tears and bitter Cries from one Person, and one Country, is received with great Cheerfulness by another. What One does, Another disapproves; and the Friends of Mourners think it their Duty to exhort, to comfort, to chide them, to beg that they would recollect themselves, call in Reason and Religion to their Assistance, be Men again, and dry up their Tears. Observe the greatest part of Them who take pains to afflict themselves; hear what they say when you have given them this good Counsel; They will make no difficulty to acknowledge, that it is a Folly and a Weakness, to be guilty of excessive Passions; they will commend and call those happy, who can stand the Shock of Adversity, and have so much Government of Temper, and such Presence of Mind, as to meet an Affliction bravely, and bear it steadily, and set a gallant and Masculine Spirit in array against it. Thus they excuse, but they dare not justify their own Concern; They say, they cannot help it, and by that Apology, lament, if not condemn themselves; for this implies they Wish, and think it were better, if they could overcome their Grief. And, in truth, the thing is very plain in these private Mournings too, that Men do not so much suit their Sorrows to their Sufferings, as to the received Notions of those, among whom they dwell and converse. And if we take a close and nicer View, this will discover to us, that Opinion is at the bottom of all our immoderate Melancholy; That our Torment and Vexation proceeds from the false Representations of Things; and that we grieve, either sooner than we ought, by Anticipation, and Fear, and solicitous Apprehensions of what will come hereafter; Which, like so many false Perspectives, set the Object nearer our Sight, or else magnify the Bulk of it to our Eye, and so make us grieve more than we ought, upon a Supposal of the Calamity being much greater, than really it is.  
But still all This is contrary to Nature: 
Unnatural.  For Grief defarms and defoces all those Excellencies, which are most Beautiful and Lovely in us. These all are blunted and melted down by this corroding Passion, like the Lustre of a Pearl, dissolved in Vinegar. And really we are then a miserable Sight, our Head hanging down, our Eyes fixed upon the Ground, our Tongue Speechless, our Limbs stiff and Motionless, our Looks Wild and Confused, our Ears Deaf and Insensible, our Minds void of all Attention and composed Thought. How distant is this from the Beauty, the Dignity, the Majesty of our Original Form and Temper? Are these Men? You may better call them walking Statues, which only sweat forth Moisture at their Eyes; like Niobe, whom the Poets, to represent the Miseries of Excessive Grief, have feigned to be transformed into a weeping Marble.  
But it were well, if this Passion, 
Impious and Unjust.  being Unnatural, were the worst of it; I have a yet much more heinous Accusation to charge it with; For it flies in the Face of God himself, and Arraigns his Justice, and Wisdom, and Providence. What better Construction can any Man in Reason put upon our Rash Complaints, and Outrageous Passions, than a Mind discontented with the Great Governor of the Universe, and his Disposals of Us, and our Affairs? To murmur and repine at what is done by Him, is to find Fault with him who does it; and in an obliqne, and little more respectful Way, to charge him with Folly or Hard-dealing. The Law and Condition, which he hath fixed to himself for the Government of the World, is, that all things in these Sublunary Regions shall be Changeable and Inconstant, ever in Motion, and subject to Decays and Death. If then we know this to be their Condition, why do we afflict ourselves for that, which is the common Fate of all here below; for that which could not be New, and should not be a Surprise to us; what if we did not, yet we might, and aught to have expected? And if we did not know this, the truest and only reasonable Matter for grieving, is our own most wretched Ignorance, Of a Truth, so Evident, so Useful, so Necessary to be known; a Truth, that Nature hath Graven every where, in Characters so Large and Legible, that it is impossible for us to go abroad and not meet it, or to turn our Eyes any way at home, and not read it. Others, ourselves, and Every Thing carry this Inscription. Alas! we mistake our Post, and Quality. Man's Business here is not to give Laws, but to receive and submit to them. The Administration of Affairs, is lodged in higher and better Hands. The Order of the Universe is established; and We, who are but a very small Part of this vast Body, must follow the Motions of the Whole, and take contentedly what falls to our Share. To fret and vex ourselves, is to be concerned, that Eternal Ordinances, are not reversed and dissettled for our Sakes; that We are not made an Exception to all Created Nature; which, besides the Intolerable Arrogance, and Impiety it is guilty of against God, is no less insupportable Folly with Respect to ourselves; for it mends not the Matter one whit, but adds Weight to what Providence hath laid upon us already, and makes all our Sufferings double.  
For we must add too, 
Destru●●ve.  that it is exceeding destru●●ve, and of extreme ill Consequence to Men; The Danger whereof is but the more increased, by its hurting us, under a Pretence of doing us Good. It flatters with false Hopes, and a fair show of Relief; but in Reality aggravates the Misfortune; and while it professes to draw the Weapon out of our Side, makes the Wound wider and deeper, and thrusts a Dagger into our Hearts. Besides, these Thrusts are infinitely the more Difficult to defend ourselves against; because it is a Domestic Enemy that gives them; One that we cannot run away from, One that is fed and cherished within our own Bosoms, and which we ourselves have bred up and given Birth to, merely to be a Vexation and a Punishment to us  
The Effects, indeed, of Grief, 
Outwardly.  are Universally Mischievous; they spread themselves quite over the whole Man; and while they infect, do very much impair every Part of him. As to the external Appearance: It Dishonours, and is a Reproach to the Man, by that Deformity, and Change of Countenance, brought upon him by this Means. Do but observe, when once Grief enters, how it fills Men with Shame and Confusion, so that they dare no more show themselves in Public, nay, so as to shun the Sight and Conversation even of their most intimate Friends, and particular Acquaintance. When once we are under the Dominion of this Passion, the Light itself is offensive, and our Great Care is, to seek out some dark Corner, some close Retreat, to crouch, and hid ourselves in, far from the Eyes and Observation of every Body. Now what can be the Meaning of all This, but a plain unnatural Confession of its own Indecency, and how much Men ought to be ashamed of what they do at that time? Is not this evidently to condemn itself? and would you not be apt to think, This was some Woman caught in Adultery, that runs away, and hides her Face, and takes such Pains not to be seen or known?  
Next to the Person; observe the Habit, what strange, uncouth, effeminate Things, the Mourning Weeds are, as if our very Clothes were intended to publish to the World, that Grief utterly destroys, and takes away all that is Manly and Brave about us; and in its Room, gives us all the Softnesses, and Infirmities of Women. Accordingly the Thracians always dressed Men, when they were in Mourning, in direct women's Habit; and a certain Author observes, that Grief enervates Men, and wastes their Strength. The old Roman Laws, which were the most Noble and Masculine (like the Spirits of those that made and lived under them) strictly prohibited all such Effeminate Lamentations, and long indulged Sorrow. They thought very truly, that it was a horrible Absurdity for Men to act in Contradiction to Nature and Reason, and thus Unman themselves. And all the Allowance they were content to make, was only for the First Gush of Passion, while it was fresh, and tender, or surprising; For there are Tears, that may be permitted to fall from the Eyes of Philosophers themselves. A Man may keep up the Dignity of his Nature, and yet not abandon the Humanity of it: This we are bound to preserve, as well as not to debase the other; and therefore all, that those Roman Laws, and these Reflections aim at, is, so to Temper and get the Mastery over our Passion, that while the Tears fall from our Eyes, Virtue and Wisdom may not fall from our Hearts, at the same time.  
But the outward Fade of the Beauty, disfiguring the whole Man, 
Inwardly.  and changing his Mein and Air, and Behaviour, so infinitely to Disadvantage; no, nor yet that corroding Venom, which eats into our very Joints, and Marrow, and as the Wise Man expresses it, drieth up the Bones; these miserable Effects, I say, upon the Body, are not All; It goes deeper yet; decays the Soul, breaks all its Rest, confounds and disturbs its Operations, disables and draws off the Man from any Virtuous or Honourable Designs; palls, and flats his Relish of Goodness, extinguishes the Desire of Reputation, and takes away the Disposition of doing Worthily, either for himself, or for any body else: Nay, it does not only unqualify him for the doing, but for the receiving Good from any other Hand. For even the most Prosperous Occurrences, are grown insipid, or unpleasant to him; and every Thing turns Sour upon his Mind, as all kinds of Meat do upon distempered Stomaches. In short, Grief embitters a Man's whole Life, and poisons all his Actions.  
It may be considered with respect to the Degrees of it; 
Distinguished.  and a Difference ought to be made between the Greatness, and the Extremity of it; as there should also, between That, which runs into Excess, and grows ungovernable altogether from itself; and That which is pushed on, and aggravated by the Suddenness of an Accident. In such a Case, Surprise and Consternation alarms, seizes, transports the Man; takes away all Motion and Sense, stupifies and turns him into a Stone, like that wretched Mother Niobe, 

* 
Diriguit visu in medio, calor ossa reliquit,  
Labitur, & longo vix tandem tempore fatur.   Her curdled Blood, ran backward at the Sight,  
And pale numbed Limbs, a shivering Horror took;  
She stiffens into Statue with the Fright,  
At last her faltering Tongue, long Silence broke.  And in these Cases, great Allowance is to be made for Natural Affection; upon which account that Painter is admitted to have understood his Business well, who when he was to draw Iphigenia going to be Sacrificed, represented the several Postures and Countenances of her Mourning Friends, and more distant Relations, with great Curiosity, and Artifice; but when he came at last to her Father, he cast a Veil over His Face. Thus wisely covering that Sorrow, which no Pencil could sufficiently express. But Grief, as it often exceeds the Power of Art and Representation in the Copy, so sometimes it is too strong for the Original; too grievous to be born, and kills the Man outright. This finds no Vent; But that which is Moderate, or indeed, that which is very Great, wears off by Tract of Time, by Diversion, and Business, and other Avocations of the Mind; And that which helps This forward, is, that it expresses and cases itself, by Tears, and Sobs, and Sighs, and sad Complaints; all which are some Mitigation to the suffering Party, and much more Comfortable than Insensibility and Silence. 

* Curae leves lequuntur, ingentes stupent.  'Slight Sorrows find a Vent, and Words command;  
The Fierce boil inward, Dumb, and Stupid, stand.   
Directions, and Helps, against this Evil, are given Book III. Chap. 29.   

CHAP. XXXII. Compassion.  
WE mingle Sighs and Tears with those that are in Affliction; we feel, in some Degree, their Misfortunes, and take Part in their Pains. Whether it be, from some secret Sympathies in Nature, whereby the Sentiments of one Man are conveyed to, and produce the like in another; or whether it be from sad Presages, by which we are apt to fear, that, whatever our Neighbours suffer now, may happen to be our own Case another Day.  
Now, This (so far as it is Vicious) is the Passion of a Weak Mind; A Foolish Pity, that proceeds from too much Tenderness, and from an Indisposition in the Soul, whereby it is apt to be vehemently disordered, and fall into great Troubles upon slight Occasions. Hence Women and Children are most affected with it; and so are the Cruel and Spiteful too (who, as was said before, are always Cowardly and fearful:) For these, tho' they know nothing of that Noble and Generous Compassion, which is a Virtue; yet of this Vicious One, they have their Share. Such (for Instance) as express mighty Concern for Villains and Malefactors, when they endure the Punishment of the Law, and smart for their Faults. Now, the Effects of such a Pity are very Unjust, and so are the Causes of it too; for, to spare the Guilty, is to injure, and endanger the Innocent; and all that Tenderness, proceeds only from superficial Appearances, and want of Thought, which looks no farther than just the present Circumstances of the Suffering Party, without any Regard at all had to the Merits of the Cause, and how Reasonable it is, that such Punishment should be inflicted upon him.  
Concerning This, See more Book III. Chap. 30. Where you have likewise the just Distinction, between the Virtuous, and Vicious Compassion; omitted here, to avoid Repetitions.   

CHAP. XXXIII. Fear.  
FEAR is the Apprehension of some Evil to come, 
Description of it  which stands over us, and keeps us perpetually in Awe; it fills us full of Anxious Thought, and very Officiously runs before, to give Notice of the Calamities, which Fortune threatens us with.  
We are not speaking at present, concerning that Fear of God, so highly recommended in Holy Scripture; so exceeding Useful and Necessary a Check upon Men's Minds, in Order to a Good Life: Nor is this Chapter to be understood, as if it related at all to that anxious and tender Concern, which proceeds from Affection and Duty; or such as makes a Part of that Obedience and Respect, due from Inferiors, of all Sorts, to their Superiors; But only of that troublesome, and tormenting Passion, which is the Spawn of Sin, and Shame, and a disordered Mind. For these Terrors, entered the World, at the same Instant with Gild, and Reproach; and are the wretched Offspring, of the Corruption of our Souls, and a secret Familiarity with the Devil. It was upon yielding to his wicked Suggestions, that our General Ancestor first discovered these misgiving Horrors upon his Conscience. I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself. Gen. iii. 10.  
It is a Passion full of Fraud and Malice; and, 
The Malice and Tyranny of it.  indeed, can never hurt, or gain Advantage over us, except when we are cheated, and seduced by it. It makes use of the Time to come, which we can have no manner of Insight into; so throwing us into a Place of Darkness; and making the same Use of Futurity, which Thiefs do of the Night; (which is, to compass their Designs undiscovered, and to scare and terrify us much more, than the Occasion requires.) When it hath got us there, it puts on a Thousand several Vizors, and represents our Misfortunes under the most frightful and ghastly Forms imaginable: Thus we are cheated again, as Children are with Fancies, and Bugbears; and dread those Evils in variety of Shapes, which can have in reality but one Face; Evils which have nothing in their own Nature, capable of doing us any Hurt; and such as would not be Evils to us, if we did not call and believe them so. It is nothing else, but merely the Apprehension we have of things, which renders those Accidents Evils, that in themselves are no such Matter. And This is so Powerful, and so Pernicious, that it turns our very Good into Evil, and from our Prosperity takes Occasion to afflict, and make us Miserable. How many Wretches, do we see every Day; Wretches of their own making? who actually become Unhappy for the very Dread of being so, and have improved their Empty Fears, into Solid and Substantial Miseries? How many People have lost their Friends, merely through Distrust, and not daring to make Use of them? and how many have made themselves sick, with the very Terrors and Apprehensions of Sickness? Here is a jealous Coxcomb, that fancies his Wife hath played him Foul, and teazes himself into a Consumption, till he pines and droops into his Grave, with this tormenting Suspicion. Another anxious Fool is afraid of falling into Poverty, and he racks himself into a Disease; and dies, for Fear of not having enough to live upon. Nay, there are several, who have been killed with the very Fear of Death; and that you may not think this so very odd, let me observe to you, that something like it happens every Day in most, if not in all the Objects of this Passion. Our Fear, generally serving to very little Purpose, otherwise than the drawing down upon our Heads, the very thing we Pretend to run away from. Undoubtedly no Calamity whatsoever, is near so great, or grievous to be born, as the Fear of it. For Other Evils can hurt us only while they have a Real Existence, and are actually upon us; when the Cause is removed, the Effect and the Pain immediately cease. But Fear is not so confined; It extends to Things that have no Being, as well as to such as have; nay, to things which neither are, nor perhaps ever will be; and, that we may be assured, there is no End of its Extravagances, it fixes sometimes upon things which we may be very confident never can be. So very ingenious is this Passion to torment us, so malicious and spiteful, so merciless a Tyrant; It extracts real and cutting Pains out of Shadows; and refines upon Imaginary Evils, till it consolidates, and makes them weighty ones: And for those which minister some Ground for Fear, it is wonderful busy, and troublesomely officious; it takes Post, and brings us News, which it were better not to hear; for it creates imaginary, and anticipates all our actual Sufferings, by Opinion and Expectation.  
Fear does not only fill us with dreadful Impressions, and oftentimes disturb our Repose with false Alarms; but, which is worse, it taints and destroys all our Happiness, breaks in upon our Quiet, and checks all our Delights. No Man can be easy, or take pleasure in the Enjoyment of a Blessing, which he is in perpetual fear of Losing. Life itself cannot be a Satisfaction to a Man that lives in dread of Dying: And One of the Ancients hath observed very truly, That no Advantage can minister true Joy to us, which we have not such a Mastery of, as to be prepared to part with it, whenever Providence shall demand it back again.  
It is wonderful to observe the Folly and Imprudence of this Passion; for indeed it excels all others in Rashness and Indiscretion. It arises sometimes from want of Courage, it is provoked by a Prospect of Dangers; and yet it frequently doubles our Difficulties, and exposes us to greater Dangers: For it makes us eager and impatient to deliver ourselves from them; and thus it casts us into Confusions and Amazements, perplexes our Judgement, blinds our Understanding, and hinders us from discerning and taking the proper Methods of getting out of the Labyrinths we are in. It distracts us with Terrors, and drives the Mind back again into itself, where the Violence of its Passion interrupts the Debates, and overlooks those very Opportunities of escaping, that offer themselves. Add to this, the great Dejection and Discouragements, which will not let us dare to do what we ought, for our Safety; we lose our Reason, and the Resolution to use it; we flee when no Man pursues, start and tremble at our own Shadow; nay, flee from that which is our best and only Sanctuary, run away from our Friends, and apprehend Destruction from them which advance to our Relief. 
* Adeo etiam auxilia pavor formidat.  Our very Succours strike new Terror into us. Some have been transported with this Passion, even to the degree of perfect Stupidity; the Senses are put besides themselves, and lose the power of discharging their Duty; our Eyes are broad open, and yet we see not; Men discourse to us, and we hear not a Word they say; we attempt to run, and make our Escape, but stand fixed like Statues, and cannot move a Step.  
This Passion, when moderate, adds Wings to our Feet; but when extreme, and in excess, it nails and fastens us down, or entangles and confounds us in our Flight. Thus Fear supplants our Natural Powers, depraves and disables the whole Man, enfeebles Body and Mind, baffles our wisest Designs, and banishes Thought. 

‖ Obstupui, steteruntque comae, vox faucibus haesit.  Amazement bore up my erected Hair;  
Nor could my stammering Tongue express my Fear.  Sometimes it makes Men desperate; and so, that the giving all for lost is for their great Advantage; for it inspires them with Resolutions of selling their Lives as dear as they can, and puts them upon doing Wonders. An Instance whereof we have in that Roman Legion commanded by Sempronius, in their Engagement against Hannibal.  

† Una salus victis nullam sperare salutenr. Virg. En. 2.  Despair and Rage broke through th' extreme Distress;  
Could they have hoped, their Safety had been less.  
There are also some Fears and Terrors, with which Men have been strangely possessed without any visible ground; as if they were Thunderstruck from above; or God by a particular Providence had determined to infatuate and dispirit them, in order to their Destruction. These sudden Amazements are what we commonly call Panic Fears; and we read, that the City of Carthage was once thus seized with Confusion; for such are not always confined to single Persons, or small Numbers; but whole Nations and vast Armies have been universally seized, and unaccountably struck with them. And our Blessed Saviour instances in This, as one of the Judgements sent from Heaven upon the wicked Jews. 
Luke xxi.  Men's Hearts failing them for Fear.  
Particular Directions and Remedies against this Passion, will be given in Book III. Chap. 28.    


CHAP. XXXIV. The Second Way of considering Man; which is, by stating the Comparison between Him, and other Animals.  
HItherto we have considered Man entire, and with regard to Himself alone: 
A useful but difficult Comparison, such as Man is partial in.  The next Step, by which we propose to advance in the Knowledge of him, is by stating a Comparison between Him and other Animals; and This is a very excellent help toward making a right Judgement in the Case. Now this Comparison is of large extent; it consists of many Branches, requires great Skill, and would prove of mighty Benefit and Consequence, if well and truly made: But the Question is, Who must make it? Shall Man? He is a Party in the Cause, and liable to very just Exception; for it is much to be feared, when the Issue is his own Concern, the Verdict will not be honest. And accordingly we see, how partial and unfair he is in all he says of Himself; for he knows no Mean, he proceeds with no Moderation, but is eternally in Extremes. Sometimes he is big, and pleased with Himself; looks down upon the lower World with Disdain; and calls himself the Lord of all the Creatures; divides their Morsels among them, and cuts out for each Species, such a Proportion of Faculties, and natural Power, as His Lordship, vouchsafes to allow them: At Other times, instead of all this Gaiety and Pride, you find him full of black Discontent, and then he debases himself as much, murmurs and frets, grumbles and complains, gives Providence hard Words, and calls Nature a cruel Stepmother, that hath made him the Refuse of the World, the most wretched of all her Productions; and dealt to Him the least and lowest Portion of all her Children. Now in truth, both the One and the Other of these Opinions are equally false, unreasonable, and extravagant. But what can we expect better from him? or how is it to be thought, he should carry himself evenly and fairly, and act justly with other Creatures, when he is, as we shall shortly see, so infinitely out of all measure, in his Notions towards God, his Superior; and Man, who is his Equal? But, besides this Bias upon his Judgement, there is another Difficulty upon his Understanding: For which way shall he get a competent Knowledge of the inward Powers, and unseen Motions of other Animals? So that if he were inclined to be Just, and to hear the Evidence impartially, yet he must needs be an improper Judge, to whom the most material part upon which the Sentence ought to be grounded, cannot be given in Evidence. And such are those inward Operations of Brutes, which we can have no certain or competent perception of. However, we will try at present to state this Comparison, as evenly, and calmly, as we can possibly.  
Now first, we are to consider, that the Order and Constitution of the Universe is not vastly unequal; There are no great Irregularities, nor large void Spaces in it; nor such Unlikeness and wide Disproportion between the several Parts that go into this Composition, as some People may imagine. The Excellencies of the several Species rise and fall gradually; And those, whom Nature hath placed near, or close to one another, have all of them a mutual Resemblance; tho' some have more, and some have less of it. And thus we may observe a near Neighbourhood, and close Affinity between Mankind and other Animals. They are akin in many things, and several Properties are alike, and common to both. Several things indeed there are, wherein they differ; but these are not so vastly disproportionate and distant, but that they still are next adjoining Links, twisted within one another, in the great Chain of the Universe. So that Man is neither in all respects superior, nor inferior in all. For that which befalleth the Sons of Men, befalleth Beasts; even one thing befalleth them both; says the Wisdom of God himself. (Eccles. iii. 19)  
We will begin with those things which are common to both, and very near the Matter of being alike in both; such as, Generation, Nutrition, Motion, Action, Life and Death. For (says the same Divine Wisdom) As the one dieth, so doth the other; so that a Man (in this respect) hath no Pre-eminence above a Beast. And This is a Confutation of those foolish repining People, and all their melancholy Complaints, that represent Man, as the only Creature, whom Nature hath discountenanced and disgraced, abandoned and forsaken; turned naked into the wide World, and cast upon the bare Ground; without any Covering, without any Natural Weapons to shelter or defend him; bound up, and swaddel●d; and utterly ignorant and unfurnished of what is fit for him: Whereas to all Others she hath been much more bountiful; Clothed them with Shells, or Hair, or Wool, or Shag, or Feathers, or Scales; Armed them with Tusks, or Horns, with Bills, or Claws, or Talons, to act offensively or defensively, as occasion requires; qualified them, without any help of Art or Industry, for Swimming, Running, Flying, Singing, Looking out for Food, and Sustaining themselves. But Man, poor neglected Man, (they tell you) is Taught to Go, Taught to Speak; nay, requires Help and Teaching for the very Feeding and Supporting himself, and attains to nothing without Time and Trouble, and serving an Apprenticeship. In short; He is perfect in no other Instance of Nature's teaching, except that of Crying: This is all we bring into the World along with us; and a very fit Emblem it is of our Fortune and Condition. Now all these melancholy Complaints, which make disadvantageous Reflections upon the Original Composition of Mankind, and that which is truly the State of Nature; are altogether unjust and false. For first, Our Skin is sufficiently fortified against all the Injuries of Wether; 
1. Nakedness. Chap. XIV  and so Nakedness is no Argument of our being less Nature's Care, than any other Creature. Several Nations, (as I have observed heretofore) never yet so much as knew what Clothes are; and even We that do, can go bare in any Parts, even the tenderest and most sensible; when Inclination, or Custom, or some particular Fashion, dispose us to it. For where of all our Body is the Sense quicker, than in the Face, the Hands, the Stomach? And yet what Lady, even the nicest and tenderest of her Sex, scruples to expose her Neck and Breasts, (when the Mode requires that Dress) even in the Extremity of Winter? 
2. Swalling Clothes.  Swaths and Rollers may be convenient, but 'tis plain they are not necessary in Children; for the Lucedaemonians heretofore made no use of them; nor do the Swisseses and Germans that dwell in cold Countries; nor Biscans, nor those Vagabonds and Common Cheats, that go by the Name of Gypsies, use them at this Day. 
3. Weeping.  Weeping is by no means peculiar to Mankind; Beasts have likewise their Share in it: Some of them shed Tears; and much the greatest part of them Cry, and Complain, and Bemoan themselves continually, for some time after their coming into the World. 
4. Weapons.  As for Weapons, Nature hath not been wanting in her Provision for Us too; and she hath given us besides, greater Opportunities of using them; For the Muscles and Motions of our Limbs are more in Number, and of a more useful Variety; and These too we are capable of receiving greater Service from, without any Instruction at all, than any other Animal whatsoever: Or if some few are better provided in this respect, we have the Advantage of many others. Nor do we need any Teaching in point of Eating; 
5. Eating  We and They are equally fitted, equally dextrous and ready at it by Nature: Who makes any Question, but a Child would look out sharp for Meat, assoon as he is strong enough to feed himself? And Meat the Earth produces for our purpose; there wants neither Quantity, nor Variety, to supply our Necessities, whether we improve it by Art and Labour, or not: Of which several Nations are a Proof, who live in great Plenty, without contributing any Tillage, or Care, or Industry of their own, toward their Subsistence. 
6. Sp●t●.  As for Speaking, allowing That to be the effect of Art, and not of Nature; yet it is certain too, that if it be not Natural, it is not necessary neither. But yet This may be reckoned among those things that are given in common to Men and Bests both: For what other Name but Speaking can we give to that Faculty of expressing themselves, which we see they have upon all occasions; those Significations of Pain, and Grief, and Joy; the Methods of Summoning one another together, and ask mutual Succours; their Arts of Courtship and Flattery, and making Love? And as We sometimes speak by some particular Gestures, the Motions of our Eyes, or Head, or Hands, or Shoulders; (Arts in which Dumb People are tightly perfect, and practise even to Astonishment) so do Beasts likewise converse with one another; And even Those of them that have no Voice at all, maintain an intercourse of Good Offices, and ask and return them, as occasion serves. As Beasts understand Us in some degree, so do We in part understand Them: They flatter and soothe us; they threaten and give us warning; they call, entreat, and express their want of our Help: We speak to Them, and They to Us after Their manner; and if we understand but imperfectly, whose fault is it? Theirs or Ours? This is what none of us can certainly tell, and somewhat may be said for either Side. They, for aught we know, may think as meanly of Us upon this Account, as We commonly do of them. 
* Here we have just Occasion to make a Distinction which I shall show to be necessary, Chap. XXXVII. between Defects Natural and Accidental: For of the Latter sort is That of Men's being unintelligible to each other; This Confusion of Languages having been no part of our Original Condition: For we have infallible Assurance, that the whole Earth was once of one Speech. So that what was inflicted as a Punishment for a Crime, (as This is expressly affirmed to be, Gen. XI.) cannot in any fair Reasoning, make a Branch of the Comparison, between the Nature of Man, and That of Brutes. Nor indeed even in this Condition, (thus debased and punished as we stand) will the exquisite Easiness of expressing Our Thoughts, and the wonderful Powers of Humane Voice, 
S● Chapter of Weakness.  endure to be compared with the wild and inarticulate Sounds of any Brutes whatsoever, tho' most excellent in their kind.  But in This however they are a Reproach to us, that in the present Condition of Humane Nature, we do not understand one another. Our almost next Neighbours, remoter Provinces in the very same Country, have Dialects so different, that they do not comprehend each other at all; Whereas They are all perfectly well acquainted with the Idioms, not only of their own Kind all the World over; but (which is a great deal more) with those of Kind's different from their own. The Horse knows how to distinguish the Barkings of a Dog; That One sort of Tone imports Mischief, and Danger, and a malicious Design; and that Another is innocent, and safe, and intends him no hurt at all. 
7. Mutual Correspondence.  Nay, I add, that they do not only maintain a Correspondence among Themselves, but with Us also. In Wars and Engagements, Elephants, Dogs, Horses, understand, as well as We: They conform all their Motions to the Word of Command; They Run, or they Stand still; they March, or they Halt; they Pursue, or they Flee; they Charge, or they Retreat, as we would have them; They receive Pay and Subsistence; they have a part in the Victory, and a Share in the Rooty; as we see particularly they had in the late Conquests of the Indies. And thus much may suffice to be observed concerning those things which Nature hath distributed both to Men and Beasts in common; and that with so even a Hand, that there is no Great Disparity on either side.  
The Particulars, wherein these two differ, and have the Advantage of one another, 
〈…〉  come next under our Observation. Now Some there are, in which Man does manifestly excel, and no Animals whatsoever can pretend to equal, or to be like them; and Others again there are, in which Beasts have the upper hand of Us. The Divine Wisdom so ordering the Matter, that the several Parts of the Creation should be so nicely interwoven, so closely connected, that Each should have some Pre-eminence peculiar to itself; and from All together, should result the perfect Harmony, and uninterrupted Order, of One most compact and beautiful Whole. 
〈…〉  The plain and indisputable Privileges of Man, are the noble Faculties of his Soul; The Penetration, Sprightliness, and Comprehension of his Mind, exerted in the Fruitfulness of his Invention; the Subtlety and Solidity of his Judgement; the Deliberate Determination of his Choice; Speech to communicate his Thoughts freely, to make known his Wants, to ask and to offer Assistance; The Hand, a ready Instrument to execute whatever his own Invention shall suggest, or the Instructions of others shall dictate, or their Performances prescribe for his Imitation; The Majestic Form of his Body; the great Variety of Movements he is qualified for; from whence it comes to pass, that his Body, and the several Parts of it, are much more serviceable to Him, than those of any Creatures else can be to Them.  
But still Beasts have Their Advantages too, as evident and unquestionable as Ours; 
Advantages of Beasts. General.  and of Those some are General, and others Particular: The General are these; Health, which in Them is much more confirmed, and less interrupted, than it ever is in Men; their Constitutions more robust; their Natural Defects and Imperfections very rarely to be observed. Whereas Men are weak and tender, easily diseased; Blind, and Lame, and Deaf oftentimes from the Birth. The Open Air never does Them injury; They are subject to no Rheums, or dangerous Colds, with which most of our acutest Distempers begin, and many of them have no other Cause: Moderation in their Desires and Actions, which are bounded by Convenience, Innocence, and Security; perfect Ease and Tranquillity; for this must needs attend a Life void of all Fear and Gild; Full Liberty and Confidence in Matters that are Natural and Lawful, without any Restraints of Shame, or Fear of Discovery; A total Exemption from infinite Vices and Exorbitances; no Superstition to enslave them; no Ambition, or Avarice, or Envy, to disturb, to torment them; no uneasy Fancies, and affrighting Dreams to afflict and confound them: These are the Portion of all Animals in common.  
Of Those that are Particular to some sorts only, 
Particular.  we may reckon the pure, clear, wholesome, lofty, delightful Dwelling, which the Birds enjoy, by having the Regions of the Air assigned them. The wonderful Perfection they attain to in some Arts: For what Art or Labour, even of the most celebrated and accomplished Masters, could ever pretend to compare with the Swallows, and some other Birds, in Building; or with the Spider in Spinning and Weaving; or with the Nightingale in Music; or with some other Creatures in Knowledge of Plants and Physic? Some astonishing Effects, and peculiar Properties, that are inimitable, unaccountable, nay incredible: Such as That of the Fish called Remora, because, tho' small itself in Comparison, yet it stops the largest Ships in their Course: Instances of which History gives us, in the Vessel that road Admiral of Mark Anthony's and Caligula's Fleet: That of the Cramp-Fish, which benumbs People's Limbs at some distance, and tho' they never touch him: That of the Hedgehog, which hath a Foreknowledge of the Winds: And That of the Chameleon and Polypus, in changing Colours, and taking a fresh Tincture, according to the Things they rest upon. Their strange Prognostications; of Birds, for Instance, in their leaving one Country, and going into another, according as the Wether, and Seasons of the Year change: That of all Beasts that are Dams, in knowing which of all their Young will prove the best; for when they are driven to Straits, and put upon preserving them from Danger, they constantly save the Best first. In all these Respects Man is much inferior to Beasts; and in some he is so far from being Equal, or near, that he is in no Degree like them. To all which might be added, That other Advantage, which consists in the Length of their Lives; The Term of some Animals, in the ordinary Course of Nature, extending to a Number of Years, Seven or Bite Times as much as that of Man.  
The Advantages, which Man lays claim to above Brutes, but which will admit of some Dispute, 
Advantages that may be disputed.  and perhaps, upon a stricter Examination, would tempt an Impartial Judge, to give it on the other side, are several. First, The Reasonable and Intellectual Faculties of his Mind; the Power of comparing, 
Reasoning. Qu. Whether Brutes partake of it.  considering, arguing, collecting; Learning, and Improvement; Judgement and Conduct. Now Two Objections may be offered in Bar to this Claim; the One Relating to the Thing itself; the Other to the real Worth, and Benefits of it. First, It is not out of all Dispute, whether the Matter of Fact, set forth in this Claim, be True; that is, whether Men have these Excellencies peculiar to themselves. It hath ever been, and ever will be, a Point in Controversy, whether Brutes have none of these Spiritual Powers; and that Opinion, which holds the Affirmative, and maintains they have, is supported with greatest Authorities, and seems to carry a greater Appearance of Truth. The most Celebrated and Learned Philosophers have declared for it; No less than Aristotle, and Galen, and Porphyry, and Plutarch, Democritus and Anaxagoras. The Reason, upon which they ground that Assertion, is this; That, the Brain is the Particular Organ, the part of the Body, employed by the Soul, in the Acts of Ratiocination; and that The Composition of the Brain, is exactly the same in Brutes, as it is in Men; and from hence they conclude, that the Instrument of Reason, is as apt and capable in one of these Creatures, as it is in the other. The Difficulty than will be, whether the Souls be equally Capable, of using this Instrument to such Purposes; and for This, they offer Experience; That Brutes conclude Universals from Singulars; as, from the Sight and Form of One Man, to know the same Humane Form in All Men; That they are able to compound, and to divide Ideas, by assenting and refusing; and that they exercise a Power of Choice, and make very Subtle Distinctions between Good and Evil, in such Cases as concern the Life, the Liberty, and Preservation of Themselves, and their Young. Nay, they pretend, that any Man, who observes with Attention, may read and discover several Strokes and Footsteps of Reason, more Bold, more Judicious, more Nice, more Ingenious and Cunning, than the common Sort of Men are used to give us Proof of. Some of the most memorable Actions, from whence this Conclusion hath been made, I will briefly recite. The Fox designing to pass over a River, when it is frozen, lays his Ear close to the Ice, to hearken if there be any Noise, and whether the Water run underneath; that from thence he may form a Judgement, whether it be Safe to proceed, or Necessary to retire. And this Expedient the Thracians are said to make use of, when they have any Frozen Rivers to pass. The Hound, in Doubt which Way his Master, or the Game he is in chase of, went, at a Place where Three Paths meet, takes this Course of making out his Loss; He scents the several Paths, one after another, and when he finds that in Two of these Ways, no Scent hath lain; he never troubles himself to lay his Nose to the Third; but springs forward, and taketh That without farther Enquiry. Thales the Philosopher's Mule, when heavy loaden with a Sack of Salt, and being to go over a Brook, stooped down to dissolve his Salt, and so make his Burden lighter; because he had found once before, that the Salt was lighter, when it fell into the Water by chance: But when loaden with Wool, he did the direct contrary, and strove to keep it dry; because the like Experiment had taught him, that Wool grows heavier by being wetted. Plutarch says, That once on board a Ship, he saw a Dog casting Stones into a Great Jar, that so he might make the Oil in it rise higher; which before was too low, and out of his reach: And the like is reported of the Crows in Barbary, when the Water is too low for them, to drink at. Thus Elephants, when one of them is set fast in a Bog, are said to bring great Stones, and pieces of Timber, to help their Fellows out. The Oxen in the King's Gardens at Suza, which have been long practised to turn a Wheel a Hundred Times Round, (the Depth of the Well requiring just so much, from whence Water is drawn, for the Use of the Gardens) cannot be made to exceed that Number of Rounds; and when left to themselves, never come One turn Short. Now what Way are all these things possible to be done, without Reasoning and Discourse; Composition and Division, which are the Operations proper to a Rational Soul? Must not a Man be thought to want Reason himself, who thinks it hath nothing to do in such Actions? So again. The Marvellous dexterity of drawing Darts and Spears out of wounded Bodies, with very little Pain to the Patient, for which Elephants are Famous. The Dog mentioned by Plutarch, that at a Public Entertainment, lay upon a Scaffold, and countefeited himself dead; fainting away by degrees, breathing short, trembling, stretching himself out, and letting them drag him about as quite dead; then by Degrees coming to himself again, lifting up his Head, as if he had just been brought to Life; and in a Word, the many Strange, Apish Tricks that Jugglers and Strowlers teach their Dogs, and Dancing-Horses. The many Doubles, and cunning Contrivances, that Beasts of several kinds have, to secure themselves from the Attempts we make upon them; The great Forecast, and wise Management of the Aunts, in drawing out their Grains of Corn to sweeten in the Air, and dry by the Sun, which would otherwise corrupt, and grow Musty: The nibbling off the End of every Grain, which would else be grown, and run to Seed: The Order of the Bees, in their Republic; the Method of their Combs; the vast variety of Offices and Duties appropriated to such and such respectively; and the constant Regularity and Uniformity of all their Proceed, will not suffer us to think, that these are no more than animated Clockwork; but seem in many Things to equal, and in some even to reproach the Conduct of Mankind.  
In Order to overthrow all This, some have been very Ill-natured to these Brutes, 
Natural Instinct, rejected.  and take Sanctuary in Natural Instinct, as a sufficient Solution, and Cause of all these wondrous Effects; And This they describe by an Inclination in Nature, which is under as perpetual Necessity, Slavery, and Constraint; as That by which the Stone falls, or the Flame ascends. Now First, This is so far from Truth, that one would wonder, how it could ever enter into any Man's Head: For the forementioned Acts, plainly infer reckoning and summing up Particulars, comparing of Things together, and reasoning by Composition and Division of Ideas, and by Consequences drawn from thence. But these are such Operations as can never be performed by such a Natural Inclination, and Necessary Instinct, which are only the Refuge of Men, who want something to say. But than it must be observed withal, that this Objection returns back again, upon them that make it. For it is, without doubt, more Noble, more for the Honour of any Creature, and a nearer Resemblance to God himself, 
See the Advertisement.  to do Well by a Happy and Unalterable Determination of one's Nature; than to do so by Art and Industry, long Time, and much Learning; To be led by the Unerring Hand of God, than left to our own imprudent Conduct; and to act Regularly, by an Habitual, and Constant, and Necessary Impulse; than by such a Choice and Liberty, as is Subject to Hazard and Rashness. Besides, by this Notion of Natural Instinct, they take away from Brutes all manner of Instruction, and Improvement, as well that which they receive from others, as that which they impart to others; but This is abundantly contradicted and confuted by Experience. For it is plain, They learn what they knew not before, and grow more Perfect by Degrees, and Imitation, and Custom; as Magpyes, for Instance, Parrots, Jackdaws, and Dogs; and it is as plain, that they teach one another too, from the Examples of Nightingales and especially of Elephants, who of all Animals are the aptest to learn, and seem to exceed the rest by far, both in Largeness of Capacity, and Quickness of Apprehension.  
As for that Power of the Reasoning Soul, which Man Values himself so very Highly upon; That of considering Corporeal Things abstractedly, representing what is absent to himself, and divesting things of what Circumstances he thinks fit, to conceive them after his own Pleasure; (for according to the Jargon of the Schools, 
* Intellectum est in Intelligente, ad modum Intelligentis.  the Object understood, is in the Subject understanding, according to the manner in which the Understander represents it to himself,) there is some Appearance, that Beasts do all this too. A Horse, that has been used to Charge, when he lies asleep, in his Litter, shall shiver, and snort, as if he were in an Action; and plainly forms to himself, the Sounds of Drums and Trumpets, and the Images of an Army, and a Battle. The Greyhound, in his Dream, pants and blows, sets up his Stern, shakes his Legs, and conceives a Spiritual Hare before him. Mastiffs, and House-Dogs, growl in their Sleep, and sometimes open, and bark outright, imagining that some Stranger is coming in. The fairest Conclusion of this first Point seems to me then, to be thus; That the Brutes have Reason; That They compare, discourse, and judge, but in a much lower Degree, and nothing comparable, to that Perfection, in which Man does. They have a much less Share, but they are not Totally excluded. We excel Them vastly, and so we do one another; and, indeed, the several Kind's of Beasts, excel each other too. Nay, I know not, whether it may not be said, That the difference among Men, is Greatest; and that some Men, excel some other Men in Reasoning, more than some Men excel Beasts.  
Aristotle, 'tis true, pronounces of some Men, that they are so extremely Ignorant and Stupid, that they differ in nothing, but Shape, from Brutes. But all this notwithstanding, to argue, that they have equal Share, and stand upon the Level with Mankind; that their Souls are equally Immortal with Ours, or Ours equally Mortal with theirs, are very Malicious and unfair Inferences. For, besides that Man excels most Conspicuously, in the Operations of Reason, there are several other more Noble Faculties and Prerogatives, such as are entirely Spiritual, which justify the Character, of his being the Likeness and Image of God; and render him capable of Immortal Bliss; all which the Brutes partake not of, in any the least Degree. And these are all employed in the Notion of Intellect, which denotes something more Sublime, than mere Ratiocination.  
The Other Argument, upon this Occasion, concerns the Worth and Benefit of this Pre-eminence. For, Allowing the Matter of Fact alleged, to be True, that Man hath Reason, and Brutes have it not, yet, What does he get by it? Are not the Noblest Faculties paid very Dear for, and do they not do him more Hurt than Good? Are not These the principal Cause and Source of the Miseries that load him? The Vices, the Passions, the Inward Distempers, All that Irresolution, and Trouble, and Despair, which embitter and cast a Blemish upon our Lives? And these the Beasts have none of, because they have none of those Powers, which are the Seat and the Source of them. Witness the Story of Pyrrho's Hog, that eat contentedly on Shipboard, in a Storm, at a time when the Passengers and Seamen, were almost dead with Fear. I confess, as we manage the Matter, the generality of People have but a very indifferent Bargain of This. And some who consider Things Superficially, and look at what the World is, not what it might be, are tempted to think that these more exalted and larger Endowments of the Soul, have been wholly denied, or at least much diminished, and impaired to Beasts, for their mighty Ease and Benefit; and given to Man in their full Strength, for his mighty torment: Since it is by the Interposition and Assistance of these, that he teazes and perplexes himself; resents and sadly keeps alive the Past; is distracted with Anxiety and Amazement for the Future; nay, forms to his own Mind, and then is scared out of his Wits with, the ghastly Images of Evils, that are not yet, nor are ever like to be. Now in other Animals, the Sense and the Apprehension of Evil have both the same Date; Till it comes, they know nothing of it; and when it hath done, they have done with it; and from the Moment of its Cessation, are in perfect Ease, and Tranquillity. And thus you see, how Man is rendered (rather indeed, how by his Mismanagement, he renders Himself) the worse for his Advantages; that the Happiness and Privilege of his Nature, is become the Instrument and Occasion of all his Misery. And were it not better to have been born naked, than to be provided with 
* Did Nature, which furnished us with these Rich and Heavenly Accomplishments, bring us under a Necessity of converting them to our own Sorrow and Ruin; the Gift, indeed, had been Treacherous, and Providence cruelly kind. But since they are not the Appetites, and Passions, and Facuties themselves, but the Excesses and Indulging of the One, and the Neglect or Abuse of the other, to which these Miseries are owing, Let us not complain of our Condition, nor charge God foolishly; but put all that we suffer of this kind, to the Account of our own Follies and Vices. For from hence it is, that Brutes can pretend to enter into the Comparison with us, even in the Esteem of those, whose Wish and Interest it is, to bring us down to their Level. And were not we by cherishing our restless Passions, so industrious to torment ourselves, we should not see, as now we daily do, that the Dull and Insensible live most at their Ease, and come off Cheaper with the Sufferings of Humane Life, than Men ●eqof Wit, and Parts, and more refined Understanding.  Weapons, and to sheathe them thus, in our own Bowels?  
Another Advantage over Brutes, 
Dominion and Command.  which Man makes Pretensions to, is that of Dominion, and Power to Command them, which he imagines to be vested in him. But, (not to take notice at present, that This is but an improper Plea, since Men also mutually Command, and are Commanded by one another) the Thing in Fact is not true: For where does our Practice and Experience show this universal Command in Man, and as universal Subjection and Obedience in other Creatures? 'Tis plain in the present State of Things, that this is a mere Fancy; and that Men are much more in fear of Beasts, than stood in fear of by them. It is not to be doubted, but this was once the Case; and an ample Commission That was, which the Great Lord of the Universe issued at the Creation, 
Gen 1.26.  Let him have Dominion over the Fowls of the Air, and over the Fish of the Sea, and over the , and over all the Earth. And admirably sitted he is to execute this Commission, by reason of the Majesty of his Person, an erect and beautiful Form, and the Greatness and Wisdom of his Mind. But alas! the Face of Affairs is changed; the actual Exercise of this Prerogative lost. And all that remains, is only what these Advantages of his Body and Mind give him; and it may much more properly be said, That Man is made sit to Command, and Brutes to Obey, than that He does actually Command, and They Obey.  
Another Advantage bordering upon the former, is perfect Liberty. This Man pretends to, 
Liberty and Servitude.  and upbraids Brutes with Captivity, Slavery, and Drudgery; but This I think is full as unreasonable and foreign as the other. Men themselves lie infinitely more open to Reproaches of that kind: To This let the Inhabitants of Guinea speak; else what mean the Slaves that are made by Kidnapping and Force, and not only their Persons enslaud, but all their Posterity too? Nay, what mean those Willing Slaves, who sell their Liberty for Sums of Money, or who part with it gladly and freely, or that Truck it away for some Conveniency? For was not all this done by the Ancient Gladiators? And is it not now done daily, by Women to their Ladies, and Soldiers to their Commanders? But Beasts know nothing like this; they serve not one another; they neither enslave, nor are enslaved by one another; but are in all respects more free, and at their own disposal, than Men are.  
Man, it is confessed, makes these his Diversion and his Entertainment; they furnish his Sports and his Table: But if He Hunt, and take, and kill, and eat Them; They do the same by Him, as Opportunities offer: And That, in a manner more brave and great than His; not by Toils, and Nets, and Cunning; but by honest downright Force. Nay, He is not murdered and devoured thus by Beasts only, but (which is infinitely more) by another Man, his Equal, his Companion, his Brother. No Beasts ever assemble themselves in Troops, to destroy, and ravage, and lead Captive another Troop of the same Kind; but Men, to their Eternal Reproach, not only do the thing, but glory in it, and triumph in the destruction of their own Species.  
The Fourth and great Advantage Men pretend to above Brutes, 
〈◊〉  consists in their Virtue; but if by this, Moral Virtue be meant, and if we may be allowed to judge of Virtue by the commendable Actions, and outward Appearances of it; (This Claim will admit of some Dispute too: Tho' Moral Virtue taken formally, and with regard to the Will, Beasts cannot have:) For Gratitude, and Friendship, and Readiness to be Serviceable, Fidelity, Magnanimity, and several other good Qualities useful in Society and Conversation, have been observed to express themselves after a more lively, more surprising manner, and with more Constancy, in Brutes, than is usually seen in the generality of Mankind. Lysimachus had a Dog called Hireanus, which lay perpetually upon the Bed with his dead Master, and would not be got from thence to eat or drink, but continued thus watching and fasting, till the Corpse came to be burnt, and then leapt eagerly into the Fire, and burned himself with it. The same is related of another Dog, that beionged to one Pyrrhus. That of the wise Hesiod detected the Russians that murdered his Master: And another did the like before King Pyrrhus, and his whole Army. Plutarch tells us of another, that hunted about from City to City, and never relied 〈◊〉 he had brought the Robber of the Temple at A●●ens, to Justice for his Sacrilege. 
See Gell. Li●. ●. Cap. 14.  The Story of A●●rodus is very well known, who had lived and eat with a Lion for some Years, after curing him of a painful Wound; and afterwards, when condemned at Rome to the Wild Beasts, this Lion would not touch the Slave that had been his Guest, and his Surgeon, but approached him with all the Demonstrations of Thankfulness and Love; all which, Appian declares himself to have been an Eye-Witness of at Rome. An Elephant, that in heat of Passion had killed his Keeper. would neither eat nor drink, but pined himself to Death, by way of Penance. But now on the other hand, Is there in the World any Creature that can compare with Man, for Injustice and Ingratitude, Churlishness and Ill-Nature, Treachery and Baseness, Lying and Dissimulation? Besides, allowing Virtue to consist in moderating the Appetite, and curbing one's Pleasures, Beasts are then a great deal more regular than We, and keep themselves more duly within the Bounds of Nature and Convenience. As for those Desires that are superfluous, extravagant, and unnatural, they never have any Inclination of that Kind: And consequently are exempted from one great and common Species of Humane Vice, which is, The enlarging our Desires beyond Measure, and multiplying, nay inventing fresh Objects to ourselves; and employing Artifice, and Industry to heighten and create new Inclinations. In those which Nature prompts them to, as Eating, and Drinking, and other Bodily Satisfactions, they outdo us much, in Temperance and Reservedness. But if we would in good earnest be satisfied, whether Man or Brutes be the more Vicious or Virtuous; that is indeed, if we would put Man out of Countenance effectually, and silence all the Pretensions to this Excellency quite; Let us put the Issue upon that single Virtue, which is therefore called Humanity, because looked upon to be the most proper and inseparable Quality of our Nature; as on the Contrary, That of Cruelty is esteemed the most foreign, most disagreeable, and that which we abandon, as sit for wild Beasts only, by giving it the Denomination of Freity. But alas! in this very Instance they reproach, and put us to the Blush; particularly upon the following Accounts. They never, or but seldom fall foul, or do any great Mischief upon those of their own Kind. It is a lamentable and scandalous Observation, but hath too much of Truth in it, That Dens and Deserts are more peaceful Habitations, than Towns and Cities; and even 
* Major Serpentum Ferarumque concordia quam Hominum.  Dragons and Beasts of Prey, agree better together than Men do. But These, when they do fall out, quarrel upon just, and weighty, and necessary Occasions; Provocations that touch them nearly, and to defend that, which needs and deserves their utmost Endeavours to defend it; Their Life, Their Liberty, their Young. Again; They engage and assault each other with such Arms only as Nature hath provided for them; they come to fair and open Combat, use no Methods of Hostility, but plain Strength and Courage; encounter single, One against One: No general Rendezvous of vast Herds and Troops on each side: Nor do they act with Stratagem and Design. Their Engagements are also very short, and presently decided; for as soon as one of them is wounded, or gives out, the Fray is over; and, which is yet more considerable, assoon as the Action is ended, the whole Quarrel, the Hatred, and all the Resentment is at an end too. But Man is the very Reverse of all This; He is so far from not quarrelling with his own Kind, that he quarrels with none besides. The Grounds of these Quarrels are frequently trifling and frivolous, and of no Consideration; nay, which is worse, they are sometimes unjust, they proceed from Falsehood and Misrepresentation; and if the Matter be examined to the bottom, the Quarrels have no real Ground at all. The Arms he uses, are the Work of Industry; such as are treacherous, and kill without warning, and contrived to be as much so, as is possible. The Method of making War is by Deceit and Cunning, which we colour over with the specious Name of Conduct; and this is seen in Stratagem and Surprise, Feints and Ambuscades. This again is transacted by vast Numbers of Men met together by solemn Engagement, and particular Appointments, to Stand and Fall by one another. These Wars are vastly long too; none lay down their Arms upon the first Disadvantage; but still either Side bushes on its Fortune; the One to recover their Losses, the Other to pursue and perfect their Conquests; and the usual End put to these Controversies, is by the Death of the Principals. Lastly, In these Quarrels, when Men want the Power, they still retain the Will to do Mischief; and tho' Acts of Hostility may cease, yet the Hatred and Resentment seldom or never cease.  
The Sum then of this Comparison, as you have found it here stated, 
The Cenclusion of this Second Consideration.  amounts to thus much; That Man hath no such mighty reason to magnify Himself in the Advantages of his Nature, above That of Brutes: For, allowing Him some Endowments and Accomplishments, which They have not; as the Sprightliness and Force of his Mind, and Intellectual Faculties, and all the other nobler Powers of the Soul; yet the Encumbrances upon these is very great and grievous; the Evils he is involved in upon their account, infinite and insupportable: The Inconstancy and Irresolution, Superstition and Solicitude, sad Remembrances of the Past, and Anxious Concern for the Future; Ambition, and Avarice, and Envy, restless Curiosity, busy Detraction, Lying and Deceit, a world of unruly Appetites and Passions, Troubles and Discontents. Thus this Mind, with the Thoughts and value whereof Man is so much exalted, is the Occasion of infinite Misfortunes; and of most of all then, when it exerts itself most: For in all vehement Agitations, it does not only hurt and disturb the Body, and render its Forces and Functions disordered, and broken, and quite tired down; but it hinders and confounds its own self: For what is it that throws Men into Folly and Madness, so much as the Acuteness, and Activity, and Strength of the Mind itself? The subtlest Follies, and most exquisite Frenzies proceed from the quickest, and sinest, and most vigorous Agitations of the Mind; as we may observe, that the bitterest Aversions, and most irreconcilable Immities grow from the tenderest Passions, and most intimate Friendships; and the most virulent and mortal Diseses, from a strong Complexion, and healthful Body. Melancholy Persons are observed by Plato, to be best disposed for Learning and Wisdom; but they are equally disposed for Folly too; much more than Persons of a different Temper. And to a Man of nice and just Observation, it will appear, that when the Soul acts freely, and gives herself a Lose, there is none of her Altitudes and Sallies without a Mixture of Folly; and in good truth, these things dwell very close together; 
— Wit to Madness nearly is allied,  
And thin Partitiens do their Beunds divide.   
Once more; If we regard the living in agreement with Nature, and in conformity with what she dictates and requires from us, Beasts seem to excel us in this respect, very much; for they lead a Life of more Freedom, more Ease and Security, more Moderation and Contentedness, than Men do. And That Man is deservedly reputed Wise, who makes them his Pattern, and his Lesson, and reaps Profit by their Example; by reforming and reducing himself to that Innocence, Simplicity, Liberty, Meekness, and Gentleness of Temper, which Nature had originally implante both in Us and Them: And, which in Brutus' is still very conspicuous, but in Us is decayed, changed, and utterly corrupted by our Industrious Wickedness, and Artisicial Depravations; thus debauching and abusing the particular Prerogative we pretend to, and rendering ourselves more vile than the Beasts, by means of that very Understanding and Judgement, which sets us so far above them. Hence sure it is, that God intending to shame us into Virtue, sends us to School in Scripture, and bids us grow wiser by the Example of these Creatures. The Crane, the Stork, and the Swallow; the Serpent, 
Jer. viij. 7. Mat. x. 16. Prov vi. 6. Isa. i. 3.  and the Dove, the Ant, and the Ox, and the Ass, and sundry others, are recommended as Teachers to us. And after all, To take down our Vanity upon this Occasion, we ought to remember, that there is some sort of Correspondence, some mutual Relations and Duties arising from thence; if upon no other account, yet by reason of their being made by the same Hand, belonging to the same Master, and making a part of the same Family, with ourselves. And this single Reflection ought to prevail with us, to use our Advantages over them modestly, tenderly. and conscientiously; and not to treat them with Cruelty and Contempt. For as Justice is a Debt from us to all Men; so Kindness, and Beneficence, and Mercy must needs be due to all Creatures whatsoever, that are in any Condition of receiving benefit by us.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
OUR Author in the midst of his great Care to slate this Comparison so, as might be most mortifying to the Vanity of Mankind, hath yet found himself obliged to acknowledge, that the Reason of Men is so much brighte●, and more noble in its Operations and Effects, than any thing discoverable in the Brute part of the Creation, that I might have let this Chapter pass without any Censure, had it not been for two or three Sentences, which seem obnoxious to very ill Construction: Such as a sort of Men are (in Our Age) but too fond of embracing, who at the same time, that they are vain enough to imagine, that neither the Nature, nor the Revelations of God himself can have any thing in them above their Reason; are yet so sordid and degenerate, as to be content that Beasts should be thought endued with the same Souls, and to be moved with the same Principles of Reason with themselves. An Opinion, which is the rather entertained, for the sake of a certain Consequence that recommends it, with regard to a Future State; for it seems they can be satisfied with the Portion of Brutes now, provided they may but partake in it hereafter. And what Favour this Notion might find from these Passages, That Brutes and Men both have the same Reason, tho' not in the same Degree; and that some Men excel others much more than some Men again excel Beasts; I was doubtful, and therefore looked upon myself concerned, (in pursuance of my Proposals at the Beginning of this Book,) to offer these following Considerations to my Reader.  
First, That in the Operations of the Reasonable Soul, a great deal depends upon the Organs, and Disposition of that Body to which it is joined; and (as hath been already explained at large) more especially upon the Brain: Now since Anatomists have not been able to observe any very remarkable Differences between the Contexture of the Humane Brain, and that of Brutes; we are not to think it strange, if there appear some small Resemblances in some particular Actions of Men and Beasts, tho' these do not proceed from the same Principle of Motion; but own their Similitude to that of the Body and Medium put into those Motions.  
Secondly, That the Impressions of external Objects have very strong Effects upon the Imagination and Memory; and these, assisted by Custom, and Imitation, and Example, will perform many wonderful things, which yet are not the Operations of Reason, properly so called. Of this kind it is easy to observe great Number of Instances, in Them, who either by means of their Infancy, have not yet attained to the use of Reason; or Them, who by some Natural Defects never have it at all; or Others, who by some accidental Disturbance have lost it: In all which Cases, (not during the lucid Intervals only, or when the Powers of the Mind seem a little to be awakened, but even in the most profound Ignorance, or most raging Madness) Those which are frequently distinguished by the Sensitive Faculties of the Soul, put forth sometimes a marvellous Efficacy and Vigour. And that These are moved entirely by material and sensible Objects, and act as necessarily as any other Parts of Matter whatsoever, hath been the Opinion of many new Philosophers; some of whom imagine, that all the Operations of this kind, are as capable of being resolved by Principles of Mechanism, (those Operations, I mean, of Imagination, and Memory, and Custom) as any other Affections and Motions of common Matter. How just this Conclusion is, I do not pretend to determine; for They themselves seem to confess it insufficient, when they call in to their Assistance, another Principle, which is,  
Thirdly, That of Instinct; By which is meant, a strong Tendency, and Natural Impulse (discernible in these Creatures) to certain necessary and useful Actions. Something of a Principle implanted in them by their wise Creator, to qualify them for their own Preservation, and the answering the Ends of his good Providence in Making them. And this appears so early, as to be plainly antecedent to either Memory or Fancy; and yet is so constant too, and always the same, in the same Circumstances and Occasions; as neither to depend upon Causes so mutable as the Impressions of outward Objects, nor a Principle so capricious as the Choice of such a Mind perfectly free feels in its Deliberations. And, as Instruments put together by a skilful Hand, perform many Operations, so astonishing, that a Man unexperienced in the Art, could not possibly imagine such Materials capable of them; so these Philosophers conceive, that Almighty God, in his infinite Wisdom, hath so disposed the Sensitive Parts of the Soul, that They by their wonderful Structure shall be adapted to most amazing Effects, and possessed with some Original Propensions and Impulses, independent from, and antecedent to the Impressions of Matter, or the power of Institution and Custom; which in the needful and most profitable Actions of Life, serve these Animals for Fundamental Principles, and bear some kind of Affinity to the first common Notions, in the Rational and Intelligent Mind. And upon these Impulses joined to those other Advantages mentioned before, the whole Oeconomy of Brutes, and even those Actions, which seem most exquisite and admirable in any of them, have by the Modern Mechanic Philosophers, been generally thought to depend. Concerning which, tho' almost every System treat in some measure, yet I believe my Reader (whether his Opinion incline to that Account or not) would at least think himself well entertained upon this Subject, by the perusal of our Learned and Ingeious Dr. Willis, in the Sixth and Seventh Chapters of his Book De Animâ Brutorum.  
Two things are fit to be added upon this Occasion, with regard to what Monsieur Charron hath delivered concerning Instinct: The first is, That in regard we observe these Animals constantly going on in the same beaten Track, and keeping ever close to one Method; and even in those Instances, which have the greatest Appearance of Comparison and Choice, of Ten Thousand that make the same Experiment, or go about the same thing, not one varying from the common and received Way; This seems to be some Governing Principle in Nature, which gives a necessary Determination to them; and very different from that Liberty and Consideration, which hath scarce any more convincing, and demonstrative Proof of the Will being absolutely unconstrained in Mankind, than that Multiplicity of Opinions, and strange Variety of Proceed, observable upon Occasions and Junctures, in themselves extremely alike.  
The Other Remark, Proper upon this Occasion, is, that what our Author suggests here, is no Consequence at all: as if too much Honour were done to these Creatures, and such a Happy and Unalterable Determination, to what is Profitable and Proper for them, were a Privilege, more than Humane; a nearer Approach to that unerring Wisdom, and unchangeable Goodness of the Divine Nature, than We ourselves can boast of. For there is so very wide a Difference, between Liberty and Necessity of acting; the One is so Glorious, so truly Noble; the Other so Mean, so Slavish a Principle, that no Comparison can be made between them. The most Glorious, most Beautiful, most Useful Parts of the Material Creation, are in this Respect, infinitely beneath the meanest of the Sons of Men; and all their other Advantages put together, cannot deserve to be laid into the Balance against this Single Dignity, of Free and Spontaneous Action. And though the Excellency of the Divine Nature, be indefectible and unalterable Goodness; yet would not even This be an Excellence, if it were not the Effect of perfect Liberty. It is, indeed, Our Misfortune, that our Understandings are imposed upon, our Affections perverted; and so the Choice we have the use of, often determines us to the wrong Side, and entangles us in Error and Vice. But These Defects and Temptations are so many Clogs and Bars upon our Freedom; and therefore God, who is above any Possibility of such false Determinations, is still so much the more Free. For Freedom, does not consist, in a Power of choosing Evil as well as Good (which is a Power, indeed, that never was, or can be, strictly speaking) but in being Self-moved, and Self-acted; so as to be the Disposer of one's own Will, without any Compulsion or necessary Determination, from a foreign or external Principle; and only acting, as one is acted upon. If then this Instinct in Brutes, be a Matter of Force, and Necessary Determination, they are in no Degree, the Better or more Commendable for it; but under a fatal Constraint, which is so far from resembling the Divine Perfection, that it admits of no Virtue, nor aught to be esteemed any Excellence, but the direct Contrary.  
Fourthly, Let us observe, what mighty Difference there is, between the Perceptions of Brutes, and those of Men; so great, that in them we find no Footsteps of any, but such as are Material, and Single Objects; and what this Author advances, as Collections, and Inferences from thence, are not improbably assigned by Others, to the Force of Imagination, or the Strength of Memory, or to those Natural Impressions, which commonly go by the Name of Instinct. To the latter of These we find very Learned Men, attributing that uniform Process of Birds, and Bees, and Aunts, in their Nutrition, Generation, Production, and the like. To the Former, that which Charron terms deducing an Universal from a Singular, and knowing by the having seen one Man, how to Distinguish the Humane Form, in any, or all Individuals of the same Species. But, supposing we should allow, that this proceeds from a distinguishing Faculty, and not merely from the refreshing and awaking an Image, that lay dormant in the Memory, till revived by this fresh Object; yet what Proportion can even thus much bear, to all those Abstracted Ideas by which Men distinguish the Natures and Properties of Things? If a Brute, from the Sight of a Man, could collect so much as should serve to discriminate all other Men from Creatures of a Different Species; yet what is This in Comparison of that Penetration, which examines into the Abstruse Causes, and essential Differences of Things, and informs itself distinctly, wherein that very Character of our Nature, which we call Humanity, consists? And what account can there be given of any universal or abstracted Ideas in Beasts? of any of those, which we properly call Reasonable Actions? For as to these seeming Demurs, and little Comparisons, which we find instanced in here, and in other Places, it is usual to observe as much, in Children so little, and Naturals so wretchedly Stupid, as that there are but very Faint, if any Glimpses at all, of Understanding in them. I know, indeed, 
S. 1.  Monsieur Charron, hath provided a Reply to this Argument, by saying, That we cannot have any competent Knowledge of Their Internal Operations. But though we do not see all the hidden Movements of their Souls, nor can distinctly say, whether they are feeble Reasoners or Stupendous Machine's; yet we may be very confident, they cannot dive into the Causes, and abstracted Ideas of Things; because there do not appear the least Footsteps, or any of those Noble Effects, of such Knowledge, which Mankind have in all Ages been conspicuous for. For to these abstracted Notions it is, that all the amazing Inventions and Improvements of Arts and Sciences; but especially the Wonders of Mechanism and Motion, by Numbers and Proportions Duly adjusted, own their Birth and daily Growth. And since in the Distinction and Perception of Concrete Bodies, where Sensation is chief concerned, the Brutes are acknowledged to equal, if not exceed Us, in Accuracy; it is not to be conceived, that They who excel in a Faculty, which is commensurate to a Sensitive Soul, should be able to give No Marks at all of their being endued with a Capacity of entertaining and feeding upon those Ideas, which are the Peculiar Prerogatives, and Glories, of a Rational one.  
Much more might be added upon this Occasion, with Regard both to the Objects themselves; and the particular Manner of Conception; and the infinite Disparities of the Humane Intellect, and that Faculty, which is affected in Brutes. But it is Prejudice sufficient against them, that so many very Wise and Inquisitive Persons have found Cause, to do even something more than doubt, whether Brutes be better than a sort of Divine Clockwork; and have any manner of Sense or Perception at all. This, at least, was never asserted of Man; nor the Powers and Operations of his Reasoning Soul disputed, (as to the Reality of them,) except by such as set up for Universal Scepticism, and are for reducing all to a State of Confusion and Uncertainty. And therefore if, because Brutes seem to act by a Faculty, which we cannot perfectly account for, we should allow, to these Brutes, some few dusky Glimmerings of Reason (which yet there is no absolute Necessity for, because they have something like it) yet not Impartial Considerer, can ever admit, that it will bear a Question, whether They, or We, have the Better of this Point; or that Some Men, excel others, more than some again excel Beasts; for there is no Man, how mean and untaught soever, if provided with what we call Common Sense, but finds an Ability in himself, nay, exercises that Ability every Day, (even when he does not know, or think of it) of considering, comparing, and determining in such a manner, as no good Arguments have ever yet been offered to show that Beasts either do, or can do. They are justly thought to do somewhat very extraordinary, when by long Custom, and severe Discipline, and daily Example and Instruction, brought to imitate some very common Actions of Men; But what Divine Heights do Men themselves ascend to, when they have proportionable Pains taken with Them? And here in Justice the Comparison ought to lie; between the Best of each Kind; not the Best of One, and the Lowest of the Other; the most unapt and neglected of Men, and the most teachable and improved of Brutes: For the Advantages, or the Want of Art, cannot at all affect the Dispute, where the Gifts of Nature are the Matter in Question: And these are distributed with so very uneven a Hand, in the Case before us; that He must be either very Stupid, or very Perverse, who does not see the mighty Disproportion.  
As to the other Part of this Discourse, whether Reason be any Real Benefit, and we might not have been as well, or better without it; I shall only need to add, that the several Instances, produced here, are only such as are Sad and very Reproachful Truths, in Regard of those Abuses of Reason, Men are Guilty of; and the wicked, or the mischievous Purposes they pervert it to: But as to the Thing itself, they are no more a Reflection upon it, than the Surfeits and Bestiality of Gluttons, and Sots, are upon the common Refreshments of Life. What is said upon this Occasion, will do well indeed to be considered, by those vicious and indiscreet Men, who apply That as a Spur to their Wickedness, and Passion, which was intended for a Curb to both; And the World ought to be humbled and reform by a serious Reflection, how Accessary Men become to their own Miseries, and how obstinately fond they are of them, when their very Remedies are industriously turned into the worst of Diseases: But, All this Notwithstanding, Monsieur Charron 's Argument here, is abundantly refuted by himself, in the last Words of this whole Treatise, where he vindicates the Honour of Eloquence, from the mischievous Effects, which some ill-designing Men, apply it to, by this Parallel: For (says he) even That Reason and Understanding, which is the Peculiar Prerogative of Humane Nature, and sets us above Brutes, is most miserably abused; turned against God, and ourselves; and made the Occasion of our more inexcusable Ruin. But, This is only an Accidental Misfortune; far from the Natural Tendency of so Noble a Privilege. And He, who would argue from hence, that Mankind had better want these Faculties, may justly seem to have degenerated into Brute; and to be quite forsaken of all that Reason, which he so Wildly and so rashly condemns. So just Ground is there for reading this Treatise, with those Cautions to be laid down upon the XXXVIIth Chapter; and so truly does our Author, keep up his Character, of an Academic Philosopher.     


CHAP. XXXV. The Third Respect, under which we proposed to consider Man, is by taking a short View, and summary Account of his Life.  
The True Value, the Continuance, and Description of Humane Life, and the several Parts, or Stages of it.  
ONE very Considerable; One, indeed, of the Principal, 
Of the Worth, or just Estimate of Life.  and most Necessary Points of Wisdom, is rightly to understand the True Value of Life; and to make so just an Estimate of it, as to keep, or to lose it; to cherish and preserve, or to neglect and lay it down; and so to manage ourselves in the whole Conduct of it, as Duty and Decency require. There is not any One Case, in which Men are more apt to be wanting, nor where their Failings are of more Dangerous Consequence, for the involving them in new and infinite Difficulties. The Mean, and the Ignorant, the Worldling, and the Man of Pleasure; and, in general, all that do not, or cannot consider, prise Life extravagantly: They look upon it, as the Supreme Good, and prefer it so much before all other Things, as not to admit a Comparison between them. If Life were to be sold at a Price; nay, if a short Reprieve only, and Lengthening out their Term a little, can be had, they can think nothing too Dear, no Conditions too hard, to be submitted to; but are satisfied the purchase ought to be made at any Rate. For This, they tell you, is their Happiness, and when That is gone, All is gone; their very Motto is, Nothing more precious than Life. (Vitâ nihil charius) They value and love it, not only as the Scene of Action and Enjoyment, and upon the account of the Conveniences and Opportunities it affords, but upon its own supposed intrinsic worth; and live merely for the sake of Living. And how can we think it strange, that such Persons should be so very defective in the rest of their Duty, so misled with Errors, and extravagant Notions, when they make the very first Step wrong, and set out in so gross a Mistake, concerning this great Fundamental Article of Wisdom and Virtue?  
There is also a Contempt of Life, that declines as much to Vice in the other Extreme, and represents it as a Burden, or a Trifle; Worth Nothing, or Worse than Nothing: But this Undervaluing is the effect of Weakness and Ignorance, of Pride and Ingratitude. For we know very well, that when it falls into Wise and Good Hands, it is capable of becoming an Instrument of great and general use, both to ourselves, and to others. Now I can by no means be of Their Opinion, taken literally and plainly, who give it out for their Princple, That 
* Optimum non nasci; aut quam citissimè aboleri.  the greatest Happiness is, Not to live at all; and the next most desirable thing is to live but a very little while. Nor is that Argument they use in vindication of this Opinion, at all sufficient or Satisfactory: What Hurt (say they) could there be in Nonexistence? and what Matter had it been, if I were never created? To This one may reply with Reason enough, What do you make of all the Happiness you have enjoyed? What would become of This, if you had had no Being? And would it not have been some Matter, some Hurt never to have enjoyed it? For certainly, tho' the loss of the Good which we have, and know the worth of, be a more sensible Evil; yet the mere privation of Good, and never having it at all, is One sort of Evil too; even tho' that Good be such as we should never have miss, nor such as was necessary to us. These Extremes are too wide; they overstrain the Point on both sides, and degenerate into Vice; tho' they are not equally vicious and erroneous neither.  
I confess, speaking in the Quality of a Philosopher, and with regard to the present State of Affairs only; I do not think That Wise Ancient much out of the way, who acknowledged 
† Vitam nemo acciperet, si daretur scientibus.  Life to be Good; but such a Good, as no Man would accept of, if it were left to his own free Choice, and he were fairly informed beforehand, what Encumbrances lay upon it. It is not at all amiss, that we are engaged in it, before we know what it is: We come into the World blindfold; but That is no reason why Men should afterwards put out their own Eyes, or hoodwink themselves. For the Mischief is, that, when we are got hither, we run into different Ways: Some cheat themselves into so extravagant a Fondness for Life, that they would not part with it again at any rate. Others fret themselves into so ill an Opinion of it, that they grumble eternally, are discontented at every thing, and pretend to be weary, and sick of Living. But Wise Men have juster Notions of the Matter; They consider that this was a Bargain made without their Knowledge or Consent; (for no Man lives, or dies, assoon, or as late, or in such Manner and Circumstances, as he pleases himself) But still it is a Bargain we are bound to stand to; and if it be a hard one, we must try to make the best of it. Sometimes we shall meet with Rough Ways; but the whole Passage is not so: And therefore Philosophers agree, that the best Course is to create no Disturbance, nor struggle and flounder unprofitably, but for Men to suit their Tempers, and comply with their Circumstances as well as they can; to carry it off with Evenness and Moderation, and make a Virtue of Necessity; for That is the Character of Wisdom and Good Management: And when they have fixed themselves in this Method, then to live as long as is Fit for them, consistent with their Duty, and Decency: Not as long as is Possible for them, which is the Principle of foolish and profligate People. For there is a Season proper for Dying, as well as one for Living; and a Virtuous Honourable Death is a Thousand time; rather to be chosen, than a Wicked and Infamous Life. Now a Wise and Good Man makes it his Business to live just so long as Life is better than Death, and no longer: For, as we observed before, that They are in the Wrong, who esteem the shortest Life best; so is that common Opinion a Mistake too, which raises the Value by Computation of Years, and accounts that Life best which lasts longest.  
The Shortness of that Term allowed us in this World, is a great and a general Complaint: 
Of the 〈◊〉 of Life.  We meet it in every Mouth; not from the Ignorant and Vulgar only, where we cannot expect better, than that They should be willing to live always; but (which may be allowed a little to surprise us) even Great Souls, and Wise Men, reckon it among their very greatest Unhappinesses. Now to say the very Truth, as Men usually manage the Matter, and indeed as Nature hath in some measure contrived it, Life is very short; For the greatest part of it is employed and diverted otherwise; and a very small Proportion left for the true Uses and Ends of Living. The Time of our Infancy and Ignorance, the Decays and Infirmities of Old Age, the necessary Intervals of Sleep, the Diseases of our Bodies and our Minds, and the infinite other void Spaces of it, wherein we are incapable of doing Good, run away with a great deal of our Time: And when the Whole is summed up, and these Abatements made, the Remainder is not much. But yet, without troubling ourselves with the Contrary Opinion, which asserts the Shortness of Life to be greatly for our Advantage, we shall find Reason enough to accuse this Complaint of Injustice; and to think it more the effect of Inconsideration and Ill-Nature, than of good Arguing, and Virtuous Disposition. For what Advantage would a longer Life be to us? Shall we wish for it to no other purpose, but merely to Live in; to take our Ease, to Eat, and Drink, and Sleep, to Look about us, and see more of the World? What need is there of so much Time for this? We have already seen, and known, and tasted what we are capable of, in a very little time; and when we are got to the End of our Curiosity, This is sufficient. What Good will it do us, or wherefore should we wish to act the same things over and over again, and be always beginning afresh? Who would not be cloyed with eating upon the same Dish every Day? If this be not nauseous and troublesome, yet to be sure it is superfluous and unnecessary. This is but One Circle, which is perpetually rolling, and brings the same things uppermost again; sometimes they remove to a little distance, and then they quickly return back upon us: 'tis but a spinning the same Web; and That which may serve a Child to play with, but can never be a sit Entertainment for grown Men. Shall we then wish it for nobler Ends; that we may grow Wiser and Better, and aspire to higher degrees of Virtue and Perfection; that we may do more Good, and be more useful in our Generations? This indeed carries the Appearance of an excellent Disposition; but They that know us, will not be imposed upon by it: For Who shall teach, Who shall improve us? Alas! That Little which is committed to our Trust, is so ill used, that we cannot have the Confidence to ask for more. We neglect what we have already, and suffer the greatest part of it to slip through our Fingers. We squander it away profusely upon Vanity and Trifles; nay, we abuse and misemploy it upon Wickedness and Vice. And yet after all this Unfaithfulness and Folly, we cry and complain for more, and think ourselves ill dealt with, that we have not enough. Enough for What? For the same insignificant and ill purposes to be sure; for That would be the Consequence of a more liberal Allowance too. But, supposing Men serious in this Matter; and that they would really do as they pretend; yet of what Use would this vast Treasure of Knowledge and Experience prove? For the Soul must change its Dwelling at one time or other; and whenever That dislodges, all our Wisdom goes with it. Since therefore This cannot stay always, why should we take it ill that it stays so little a time? For if it sink into a state of Oblivion, and all must be lost, What mighty difference is there, whether this be done sooner or later? But if it removes into a better Condition, and be (as it really will be) put into a state of clearer Vision, and more perfect Knowledge, why should we desire to have that Happiness delayed, and kept back from us?  
But you will say, perhaps, This Gift of Life is very unequally distributed; for there are some Creatures, that live Three, Four times as long, as the usual Age of Man. I might answer, That the Accounts we have of this kind are many, if not most of them, fabulous. But waving That, and allowing the Objection; yet it must be confessed withal, that Some, nay the much greater part of Animals live not near so long; some never arrive at a Fourth part of our Years, and very few ever come to an equal length with us. Now pray, what Right, what Privilege, what Reason hath Man to challenge a longer Duration here, than the rest of his Fellow-Creatures have a Title to? Where did God ever grant him such a Charter, or how will he be able to make good the Claim? Is it reasonable He should be indulged more than They, because he puts out his Time to better Interest, and employs it upon Business more noble and sublime in itself, more worthy and deserving of this Favour, than They are capable of? I greatly fear, This Argument may be thrown back in our Faces, and prove the strongest Plea against us: For sure He ought rather to be cut shorter than the Rest, as a Punishment for his Abuse and Mismanagement. And in This he is singular, and stands alone. The whole Creation cannot furnish a Parallel; not any one Instance of this Blessing so grievously perverted, not such another Monster of Wickedness and Unfaithfulness, of Ingratitude and Baseness, of Intemperance and Debauchery, and all manner of Disorderly Living. This Charge hath been sufficiently proved upon him already, when we stated the Comparison betwixt Him and the Beasts; and therefore I urge my Point, and ask that Question once more, What Benefit would a longer Life be to him? Nay, I back that with a Second, and add, What an Inconvenience would it be to Himself, and how mischievous to the World? It would make his own Account the heavier, his Crimes and Arrears the greater, and it would encourage him to yet more Extravagancies than he is guilty of already: For this very Consideration would put him upon bolder and more desperate Attempts. The shortness of his Continuance in the World, as Matters now stand, is some Check to his wild Career, and breaks all his Measures; and the Uncertainty of it abates and damps his Fury: But if these Restraints were removed, and Assurances given of a larger Term, Nothing would be able to stop him; his Projects would be always New, without Number, without End; and he would live as if he were to live for ever. You see how strong these Inclinations are now. He cannot but feel and fear his own Mortality; and yet these Reflections are so over-balanced by a corrupt Principle within, that he cannot forbear holding fast what he hath, and eager Desires and Pursuits of what he hath not, and forming vast and very distant Designs, as if he were really Immortal. 
* Tanquam semper victuri vivitis. Nunquam vobis fragilitas vestra succurrit; omnia tanquam Mortales timetis, tanquam Immortales concupiscitis. Seneca.  'tis a just Reproof which Seneca gives, Ye live, as if Life were never to have an End. The Frailty of your Nature is never thought of; or if it be, 'tis remembered to no purpose; for at the same time that your Fears are infinite, and this proves you Mortal; your Desires are infinite too, as if you looked upon yourselves to be Immortal.  
Again; What necessity is there for all those great and goodly Designs, and that mighty Business, which is pretended to merit a longer Life for Mankind, than any other Animal? Does Nature require more back than is given us? No sure. Men have no just ground of Complaint; but abundant Cause for Indignation and Remorse, for treating themselves no better. The Life allowed us is enough to answer All the Purposes of it; but the Misery is, that we turn Negligent and Prodigals, and do not husband it so well as we might and ought to do: It is not short of itself, but we make it so, by wasting it unprositably. We labour under no Wants of this kind, but what our own Prodigality brings upon us; and are scandalously lavish of the Thing we pretend to need most. 
* Non inopes vitae, sed prodigi.  We lose it, we sell it, we throw it away; we vilify it, and complain that it hangs upon our Hands; we are at some pains to pass it away, as if it were a Matter of no Worth at all; as if our Stomaches were overloaded, and we sick and cloyed with too great Abundance. There is not any of us, but is guilty of one or other of these Three Faults; either employing it Ill, or not employing it at All, or employing it Insignificantly, and to no purpose. 
† Magna vitae pars elabitur malè agentibus, maxima nihil agentibus, tota aliud agentibus.  A great part of our Life (says Seneca) is run off in doing what we should not; much the greatest in doing nothing at all; and almost the whole of it in doing things by the by, and such as are not our proper Business. No body takes pains in learning how to Live; but All lay out their Studies and their Time upon any other Subject, rather than This. And yet This, like all other Arts, is not to be attained slightly and easily; a Man cannot be expert in it without long Practice, much Diligence, and very solicitous Application of the Mind. Some put off all Thought of living well, till they can live no longer. They spend the Vigour and Flower of their Years in Toil, and Trouble, and Folly; and propose great Enjoyments to themselves hereafter, and wondrous Comforts in their declining Age. How are they sure they shall live to that Age? But if they were, what a wretched Madness is This? 'tis directly as if a Man should set his Cask to running, and let out all the best and sprightly Liquor, that he may reserve the Dregs for his own Drinking. Age is the Lee and Sediment of Life; All we can do then, is to try if we can sustain and sweeten it a little; but to defer our Satisfactions till then, is to give them quite away, and lose them for altogether. Nay, many never go thus far, but finish their Day without ever beginning their Work; and go off the Stage without considering why they were brought on, or what Part they were to act. 
* Quidam vivere incipiunt cum desinendum: Quidam ante desiverunt quàm inciperent: Inter caetera mala, hoc quoque habet stultitia, semper incipit vivere.  Some (says the Philosopher) begin to live when they should make an End; others cease to live before ever they begun: Among the many Mischiefs that Folly brings upon us, This is not the least, That it is always beginning to live. We think of Business, and intent to set about it; but make no Progress at all, nor bring any thing to perfection.  
The World is a Theatre, and our present Life in it, the Beginning and the End of a Play; 
Description of it.  our Birth draws the Curtain, and our Death shuts it up again: 'tis a Comedy of Errors; a constant Succession of Accidents and Adventures, a Contexture and Chain of several Miseries linked closely, and interwoven within one another; nothing but Evil on every side; That which passes off, and that which approaches, and comes into its place; and these drive out, and push forward each other, as the Waves of the Sea do in their Ebb and Flow; Trouble and Disquiet are always at hand; but for Happiness, we are cheated with the empty Shadow of it. Blindness and Insensibility take up the Beginning of our Lives; Labour and Anxious Care, the Middle; Weakness and Pain, the Latter End; But Ignorance and Error reach from the Beginning to the End; These are inseparable, and keep us Company quite through.  
The Life of Man hath its Inconveniences and Miseries of several sorts. Some of them are in Common; extending to all Persons, and all Times; Others are Peculiar and Successive, and distinguished by the different Parts, and Age, and particular Seasons and Accidents of Life: As Childhood, Youth, Maturity, Man's Estate, and Old Age; for Each of these hath its distinct Calamities; some Embasements and Encumbrances, which may be properly called its own.  
When Youth and Old Age come to be weighed one against the other, 
Youth and Age compared.  it hath been usual to give the Advantage to the Latter: And most Authors speak of Age with Honour and Respect, as having attained to greater degrees of Wisdom, more maturity of Judgement, more Moderation and Temper: All which good Qualities are marvellously cried up, with a Design to put Youth out of Countenance, and to charge upon it the contrary Characters of Vice and Folly, Licentiousness and Extravagance. But with the leave of those, who have thus decided the Controversy, I must take Liberty to declare, that this Verdict is in my Opinion very unjust: For, in good truth, the Defects and the Vices of Age are More in Number, Worse in Quality, and less to be resisted or recovered, than those that are peculiar to Youth. Years deform our Minds as much as our Bodies; bring Wrinkles there as well as in our Faces, and turn our Tempers sour and mouldy with long keeping. The Soul keeps pace with the Body; Both are spent, and Both decay, till at last we grow so weak, so perfectly helpless, as in respect of both, to verify that Proverb, of Old Men being twice Children. Age is a necessary, but a strong Disease; it loads us insensibly with grievous Imperfections, and then contrives to cover the Shame of them with creditable Names. What is in effect no other than Moroseness of Humour, a peevish dislike of the present Enjoyments, and Disability to do as the Man did heretofore, passes for Wisdom and Gravity, Experience, and an Insight into the Vanity of the World. But Wisdom is somewhat much more noble than all this comes to, and far above making use of such mean Instruments. There is a vast difference between growing older and growing wiser; between forsaking all Vice, and the changing one for another; and, as it often happens in this Case, changing for the Worse. Old Age condemns the Pleasures and Gaieties of Youth; but how much of this must be allowed to it's not being now able to relish them any longer? It is like Esop's Dog, hates and despises what it cannot enjoy. But This is not to disdain and give over Pleasure; it is rather to be disdained and given over by it. Pleasure is always Airy and Entertaining; and these are Persons no longer for its Turn. But why should they cast a Reflection upon That, which is due to themselves? Why should Impotence corrupt their Judgement? For this, if impartially consulted, would tell Young Men, that there is Vice in their Pleasures; and Old Men, that there is Pleasure in Vice. And if this were rightly understood, and frankly confessed, Youth would be a great deal the better, and Old Age not one whit the worse.  
The Vices more peculiar to Youth are, Rashness and Heat; Forwardness, and an unguarded Conversation; Debauchery, and all manner of Sensual Excess. And these are in some Degree natural to that State; the Effects of Warmth and Vigour, and the Boiling of a Florid Blood: All which, as they need and aught to be corrected, so they have something to say in their own Excuse. But what Apology shall we make for the Ill Qualities that attend Old Age? The lightest and least of which are vain Arrogance and Pride; a troublesome, and peremptory way of Conversing, and an engrossing all the Talk to themselves; froward and unsociable Humours, Superstition and Whimsy; Love of Riches when past the use of them; sordid Avarice, and Fear of Death; which generally is not (as some have favourably interpreted the Case) the effect of a cold Blood, and low Spirits, and of Courage damped by these Natural Causes; but it proceeds from long Custom, and Acquaintance, and a foolish Fondness for the World; by which the Old Gentleman hath corrupted his Judgement, and hath a greater Tenderness for it, than young Men, who enjoy more, and know less of it. Besides these, there are Envy, and Ill-Nature, and Injustice; but the most exquisite and ridiculous Folly of all, is, that Affectation of a severe, and grave, and wise Character; and hoping to gain Respect and Deference, by an Austeres Look, and Scornful Behaviour; which indeed does but provoke Laughter, and become itself a Jest, while it pretends to extort Observance and Fear: For the Young Fellows combine together against this formal Austerity, which they see put on only for a Disguise; and with a design to amuse and affright them into Reverence, where real Merit, which would engage it, is wanting. In short, The Vices of Old Age are so numerous on the One Hand, and the Infirmities of it on the Other, and Both together conspire to render it so despicable, that the best and most saving Game it can play, is to secure men's Affections, and to win them by Methods of Kindness, and Affability, and Good-Nature. For Churlishness, and an Imperious Humour, and whatever aims at Fear and Dominion, are not by any means Weapons fit for These Persons to manage. The Affecting so very much Awe, does by no means become them; and if the thing could really be compassed (which it rarely, or never is) yet they should much rather choose to render themselves Agreeable; and think the Love, and Respect, and Honour of young Persons, more to be desired, than the keeping them in Constraint and Fear, and Tyrannising over all that converse with them.    

THE Fourth Consideration CONCERNS Man, with regard to his Manners, Humour, and Condition, etc.  
A general Draught of Man.  
THE Ancient Sages, and as many as have applied themselves to the study of Humane Nature, when they represent Man to us, have this remarkable Agreement among them, That in all their Draughts and Descriptions, the principal Lines are the same. For they All conspire to paint him, as a Creature made up of these Four Things; Vanity, Weakness, Inconstancy, and Misery. They style him The Prey of Time; The Sport and Gewgaw of Fortune; The Image of Inconstancy; The Pattern, nay rather the Prodigy of Weakness; The Balance of Envy and Misery; a Dream; a Phantom; Dust and Ashes; a Vapour; a Morning-Dow; a Flower that presently fadeth; in the Morning Green and growing up, in the Evening cut down, dried up, and withered; a Wind; Grass; a Bubble; a Shadow; a Leaf born away by the Wind; a Sponge full of Excrements in his Beginning; a Bundle of Infirmities and Miseries in the Middle State; Rottenness and a Nuisance, and Food for Worms, in his Latter End. In a Word, The most Despicable, The most Calamitous part of the whole Creation. Job, who was as well skilled, and as much experienced in this Subject, as any Man ever was, hath drawn him at full Length, in his true Colours and Proportions: And Solomon after Him hath done the same in His Books. Pliny's Piece of him is in Little, but extremely like the Original, when he calls him 
* Solum ut certum sit nihil esse certi, nec miserius quicquam homine aut superbius.  The most wretched, and yet the proudest and most insolent Creature in the whole World. Under the Former of these Attributes, (That of Wretched) he comprehends all the Characters already mentioned, and the Descriptions other Writers have given of him. The Second (That of Proudest) concerns another Head of very great Consideration; and in these Two Words he seems to have comprised all that can be said upon the Matter. These Two Qualities, I confess, seem utterly inconsistent and destructive of each other. For what in Appearance more distant, what more Contradictious, than Emptiness and Presumption, than Misery and Pride? So strange, so monstrous a Composition is Man, in which these wide Extremes are Ingredients.  
Now the very different parts, whereof Man consists, Body and Spirit, make it exceeding hard to give a tolerable Description of him entire, and altogether. Some charge all that can be spoken in disparagement of Man, upon the Body, and represent him a most excellent Creature, complete and superior to any other, in regard of his Mind. But this Method is so far from Just, that on the contrary, All that is truly Ill, not in Man only, but in the whole World, is the Product and Contrivance of the Mind. And much the greatest part of the Vanity, Inconstancy, Misery, and Presumption, with which Humane Nature is debased, resides in this part of us; which gave Democritus occasion to call the Mind An unknown World of Miseries; and Plutarch proves it by a Tract written on purpose, and upon this very Subject. This General Consideration then, which regards Man in his own Nature, and in the Gross, shall consist of these Five Particulars: Vanity, Weakness, Inconstancy, Misery, and Presumption; Which are indeed the most Natural, the most inseparable, and universal Qualities, of any that belong to him; though the Two last seem more intimately to concern, and touch him most to the quick. I add too, that there are some things reducible to several of these Five Heads; and it is not easy to determine, which of them they most properly belong to, particularly the Topics of Weakness and Misery, between which there is great Assinity and Resemblance. 
* Utium graviores morbi animi quàm corperis. Plut. Lib.   

CHAP. XXXVI. I. Vanity.  
OF all the Qualities, that belong to Humane Nature, Vanity is the most Essential. The very Peculiar of Man, and Predominate over the rest. For, whether we regard Moral Evil, or Misfortune, or Inconstancy, or Irresolution, or any other ill Property, (of which, God knows, this Soil always bears a plentiful Crop) yet it abounds in nothing so much, as in Worthlessness, and Emptiness; Senseless Folly, and Ridiculous Vanity. Upon this Account Democritus, was certainly more in the Right, when he laughed at all Mankind, and treated them with Scorn, and Contempt, than Heraclitus was, who wept and afflicted himself; and so expressed some sort of Esteem for Men, as if he thought them worth his Trouble and Concern. And Diogenes took a better Course in reproaching and disdaining them, than Timon did, who professed to hate Mankind, and fled away from all Conversation. Pindar hath given a livelier Image of This, than any Author besides, in that bold Stroke, where he hath joined the Two Vainest Things in the World together, to finish his Idea, calling Man the Dream of a Shadow. This Consideration hath driven some wise Men to so very great a Contempt of Humane Nature, that when a Difficult, Bold and Noble Undertaking was mentioned to them, they would frequently reply; That all the World was not worth a Man's giving himself any Trouble for it, (so said Statilius to Brutus, when they discoursed the Conspiracy against Caesar) That a wise Man ought not to do any Thing upon any Account, but his own. And that it was by no means sit, that Wise Men and Wisdom should suffer any Disquiet, or be exposed to any Hazard, for the Sake of Fools and Sots.  
This Vanity hath great variety of Ways to express itself by. As, 
Vanity of the Thoughts.  First of all, In our Thoughts, and secret Conferences with ourselves, which are very often, even Worse than Vain, Frivolous, and Ridiculous. And yet in these trifling Imaginations we spend a great deal of Time, and are not sensible of it. We enter upon them, continue in them, and come out of them again, without ever being conscious of our Motions: Which makes the Vanity double, and argues great Inadvertency, and Disregard of ourselves. Here is one walking in his Dining-Room full of Care to manage his Feet so, that each Turn may be compassed with such a Number of Steps, and that such Parts of the Board's only may be trod upon: A Second forms with great seriousness long Harangues to himself, composes a Scene of Action, what he would say, and how he would maintain his Port, if he were a King, or a Pope, or some other Thing, which he is so far from, that he knows it is impossible he ever should be such. And thus he feeds upon Wind, nay, upon somewhat yet less substantial, upon a Thing that never had, nor ever will have, any sort of Existence. Another is taken up in contrivance for the Management of his Person, the Affecting a particular Motion of his Body, an Air of his Face, a Singularity of Address, odd Sentences, and uncommon Pronunciations; and This he is infinitely delighted with, as a Thing extremely graceful and engaging, and what other People must needs admire, and be taken with too. Then how prodigiously vain and foolish are we in our Wishes and Desires; from whence spring our ridiculous Opinions, and our yet more ridiculous Hopes and Expectations? And This again, not only at such times as we surfeit with Leisure, and have no other Business to employ our Thoughts; but it very often interrupts our serious and most important Affairs, and breaks our Thread in the very heat of Action. So Natural is Vanity to us, and so prevalent over us, that it Spirits us away, and pluck● us forcibly from Truth and Solidity, and real Substance; to lose us in Air, and Emptiness, and Nothing.  
But of all Vanities, the most refined in Folly, is that anxious Care of what shall happen hereafter, 
Concern for Futurity.  when we are gone, and cannot feel it. We stretch our Desires and Affections, beyond our Persons and Subsistence; and are much concerned for things to be done to us, when we shall be in no capacity of receiving them. How importunately do we covet Praise, and Applause after Death? and how egregious a Folly is This? What can be vainer? This is not Ambition, as Men may be apt to imagine; for That desires a Sensible Honour, such as a Man can enjoy, and reap some Benefit from. So far as our good Name indeed is capable of doing Service to our Children, or Relations, or Friends, that stay behind, I own there is use of it; and am content Men should desire it in proportion to this Convenience. But to propose That, as Our Own Happiness, which can never reach, or in any Degree affect ourselves, is mere Vanity. Such another Folly is Theirs, who perplex their Lives with Fears of their Wives marrying second Husbands; and passionately desire they would continue single; nay, are content to purchase the Gratification of this Whimsy, at a dear Rate, by leaving in their Wills great part of their Estates to their Widows, upon this Condition. What an insupportable Folly? and, as it sometimes falls out, what horrible Injustice is This? How directly the Reverse of those Heroic Spirits in former Ages, who upon their Deathbeds advised their Wives to Marry again, as soon as Decency and Prudence would permit; and to render Themselves useful by bringing Children to the Public? Some again, Conjure their Friends to wear such a Ring, or a Lock of Hair, or some other Relic, as a constant Remembrance of them, when they are dead; or leave Directions for some Particular thing to be done about their own Bodies; What can we make of all This? hath it not a very untoward Aspect? Methinks it looks, as if Men could be content to part with Life; but could not even then submit to part with Vanity, at any Rate.  
Another Vanity is This, That the Generality of Mankind live for Other People only, and not for Themselves. We are not half so much concerned what we really and truly are in our own Persons and Dispositions, as what the World takes us for, and how we stand in Character and Reputation abroad. And thus we frequently Cheat ourselves, and cast away the true Happiness, and Advantages of Life, and do a Thousand inconvenient Things; Tho' at the same time we Torture ourselves to be agreeable to the Standers-by, and to put on what we know is most in Vogue. And this is plainly so, not only in our Estates●, and our Bodies; The Table, the Equipage, the Furniture, the Dress, the Figure, all adapted to the present Mode, and what the World expects from Persons in our Circumstances; But, which is a great deal worse, and more deplorable; in the Advantages of the Mind the Observation holds too. For even These are thought of no Use or Worth, unless they draw the Eyes and Approbation of other People. And Virtue itself is neglected and disesteemed, if it be not publicly acknowledged and commended: As if the Testimonies of one's own Breast were no Satisfaction; As if those Things, which were given for our proper Use and Benefit, had lost all their Efficacy, and changed their Nature, when Others do not see, and share in them, as well as ourselves.  
Nor is our Vanity consigned to simple Thoughts, and Desires, and calm Discourse; 
Commotions of the Mind.  but it often rises higher, puts both Body and Mind into violent Agitations, and Pains. Men often tease and torment themselves more, for Matters of little or no Consequence, than for Those which are of nearest Concern, and upon which their All depends. Our Soul is frequently thrown into violent Disorders, by little Whimsies, a mere Fancy, a Dream, a Shadow and empty Amusement, without Substance, without Ground; and works itself up to all the Excesses of Anger and Revenge, Joy and Grief, and Confusion; and all This with building Castles in the Air. The Ceremony of taking leave, the Idea of some particular Gesture in a parting Friend, strikes us deeper, and gives us more real Trouble, than all the Reasoning in the World, upon Matters of greatest Moment, is able to do. The Sound of a Name repeated, some certain Words and melancholy Accents pronounced Pathetically; nay, dumb Sighs, and vehement Exclamations, go to our very Hearts. Tricks which all your formal Haranguers, Enthusiasts, Buffoons, and Others, whose Trade it is to move the Passions, know, and practise in great perfection. And this airy Blast sometimes surprises the most cautious, and transports the most resolved, unless they set a more than common Guard upon themselves. So strong an Influence hath Vanity, and We so mighty a Tendency to it. Nay, as if it were not Reproach sufficient to be agitated and tossed about with Toys and Trifles, even Falsehood and Cheat hath the same Effect, and (which is strange) even when we know it is nothing but Falsehood and Cheat. Such Delight do we take, such Industry do we use, to Bubble ourselves with our Eyes open, and to feed upon Fable and Nothing. 
* Ad fallendum nosmet ipsos ingeniosissimi sumus.  How dextrous we are to deceive ourselves, We need no other Instances than Those that cry hearty, and fall into violent Passions upon hearing dismal Stories, and seeing deep Tragedies, at the same time that they know the moving Parts of These to have been invented and composed for Entertainment and Diversion, at the Discretion of the Romancer, or the Poet: Nay, some of them mere Fables; so far from Truth now, that they never were true in any Circumstance at all. Shall I mention one Vanity more? That of a Wretch possessed, fond and dying for Love of an ugly old Hag; One, whose Age and Deformity he knows, and knows that she Hates and Despises him too; and notwithstanding all this, is bewitched with a painted Face, and Colours well laid; the Affectation of a Coquette, or some other Imposture, which he sees and confesses to be an Imposture; and all the while runs mad and owns no other Charm, but what he perfectly sees through the Fallacy of.  
But to show you, what Footing Vanity hath got, and how close it sticks to Humane Nature; 
Visits and Matters of Civility.  we will now pass from private Deportment and Dispositions, to public Conversation; by which This will plainly appear, to be no particular and personal Defect, but the Vice of the whole Species in common. And here, what Vanity, what loss of Time may we observe in the Impertinencies of Visits, Howd'you's, Forms of Address, mutual Entertainments; In the Offices of Civility, set Speeches, and Ceremonious Behaviour; in Prossers of Service, in Promises, and Praises? How many fulsome Strains of Compliment, what Infinite Hypocrisy, Falshood and Deceit? How open and barefaced, so that the Person that utters it, and he to whom it is directed, and every one that stands by, sees and knows, and is satisfied it is False? Thus Conversation is now become little else, than a Trial of Skill for Dissimulation; and looks like a common Confederacy, where Men have combined together to lie, and bubble, and abuse, and make a Jest of one another. Nay, good Manners require, that at the same time a Man tells you an impudent Lie, you should return him your Thanks, for what you know he intends not a word of; and He again, who is satisfied you believe not a Syllable of what he says, receives those Acknowledgements of yours with a set Face, and an Air of Confidence; and thus you stand cringing, and fawning, and dodging for the last Word; each striving to begin, and fearing to leave off, and shrugging, when both are hearty weary, and would fain be well quit of one another. What Inconveniences are we content to endure for these Formalities? We expose ourselves to the Air, to Heat, to Cold; disturb the Peace of our Lives, and are in perpetual Pain for these courtly Follies; We neglect our Business of Weight and Consequence, and attend upon Wind and Smoke. We are vain at the Expense of our Ease, nay, of our Health, of our very Life. And what can prove Mankind more enslaved to Vanity than This, That Levity and Accident tramples Substance under Foot, and Air carries away solid Body, whither it will? especially, when a Man that behaves himself otherwise, must be looked upon as a Sot, and a Fool; one that knows nothing of the World, nor what becomes him to do in it: Thus to play this Farce dextrously, is the greatest Mark of Wit; and the most affected Harlequin in it, is the finest Gentleman; but not to be Vain is contemptible Stupidity, and he that declines playing the Fool, betrays his own want of Sense and good Breeding. Nay, when there is no need of all this Form and Complaisance, Vanity hangs about us still: Witness the freer Discourses of the most familiar Acquaintance, and intimate Friends. How many trifling Impertinences, Falsehoods, Banters, (I omit the wicked and mischievous Part, because that falls not under this Head) How many arrogant and vain Boastings go to the making up this sort of Conversation too? Men are so industrious to take, to seek, to make occasions of Talking of themselves, or of somewhat that belongs to them; They do it with so sensible, and yet so nauseous a Pleasure; if they think they have said or done a good thing, or that somewhat they are possessed of is better than ordinary, They are so uneasy till they have published and enlarged upon it; as if all their Wit and Worth were lost, unless other People were made sensible of it too: They catch at the very first Convenience, cry it up to the greatest Degree imaginable; nay, they perfectly bring it in by Head and Shoulders, and interrupt all other Discourse to start This: And when any body else is Talking, we presently thrust ourselves in, and take an Advantage of showing our Parts; so eager are we that People should understand what we are, and have a regard for us; and not for Us only, but for every thing that we have a regard for.  
As a yet greater Demonstration, how absolute a Sovereignty Vanity hath obtained over Humane Nature, 
Public Commotions.  we need but recollect the most considerable Revolutions that ever happened in the World, and the Occasions of them: For thus it will soon appear, that the most general and most formidable Convulsions of Cities and Kingdoms, and whole Empires; the Seditions, and Revolts, and Fates of Armies; the bloodiest Battles, the barbarousest Murders, the sharpest Disputes, and most implacable Quarrels, have proceeded from very trifling, ridiculous, and insignificant Causes. Witness the long War between Troy and Greece, the Piques of Sylla and Marius, and all the Confusions that followed from thence, in the Civil Wars of Caesar and Pompey, and Augustus and Anthony. The Poets have represented this well enough, by pretending an Apple to have been the Boutefeu; the Original of all that Blood and Devastation in Asia and Greece. And indeed the first Springs, upon which these vast Events move, are commonly Things of no consideration; but That which gins very small; swells to a vast Bulk afterwards; and the blowing it up thus, is an irrefragable Proof of the Vanity and Folly of Mankind. Nay, many times an occasional thing goes further with us than the principal Cause; and some paltry little Circumstances make more sensible Impressions, and gall us more than the main Matter to which they retain; as Caesar's Robe put Rome into greater Passion and Concern, than his Death itself, and the Two and twenty Stabs in his Body had done before.  
The Last, and indeed the most exquisite Vanity, is our seeking with so much Industry and Passion, 
Notions of Happiness and Content.  and pleasing ourselves so highly, nay, placing our very Happiness in Advantages, which have neither real Worth, nor Necessity to recommend Them: But as they are trifling and frivolous in themselves, so they are such as we may be very happy, and live very comfortably and conveniently without. Whereas on the other hand, those that are necessary, and essential to our true Happiness, find little or no part of the Regard due to them; and every Body is indifferent whether he hath Them or not. Thus the Condition of Man is all Air and Speculation; His whole Happiness imaginary; Opinion and Dream is all he pursues; and in this he stands Alone, and cannot match himself in the whole Word. God hath all Good in Essence and Reality, and Evil in Notion and Understanding only. Man, on the contrary, hath only fantastical Good, but his Evils are weighty and substantial. Beasts are not satisfied with Opinion, nor do They feed upon Fancy, but require somewhat that is present, and sensible, and real, to content them. Vanity is reserved to Man for his Portion, the Inheritance and peculiar Right of his Nature. He runs, he bustles, he fights, he dies, he flies, he pursues; he grasps at a Shadow, he Worships the Wind; he sweats and toils all Day, and in the Evening, when his Gains come to be computed, a Mote is all the Wages he receives for his Work.   

CHAP. XXXVII. II. Weakness.  
WE are now advancing to the Second Head, under which Humane Nature is to be considered; and This cannot be any Surprise, after what hath been said already. For how should so much Vanity be otherwise than Feeble and Frail? Accordingly, this Frailty is frankly confessed by all People, and several Instances of it reckoned up, which are too Plain not to be discerned: But than it is not observed in its due Proportion, nor in all Cases where it really hath a Part; as in those, for Instance, which seem to have more of Strength, and a less Mixture of Weakness; such as Desire; The Use and Enjoyment of what a Man is possessed of; In his Good and his Evil; in short, such as Man takes a Pride in, and values himself upon. And yet, even These supposed Glories and Excellencies of his Nature, are undeniable Arguments of his Weakness. This may possibly seem a Paradox at first Sight; but a few particular Reflections, will give us a clearer and more distinct View of the Thing.  
First, As for Desires; It is manifest a Man cannot fix upon any Thing, 
In desiring and choosing.  not even in Wish and Imagination, so as to sit down with That, and rest himself contented. We have it not in our Power, to Choose what is necessary, and sit for us; nor to say, in Particular, what This would be. And if Providence in Wisdom and Kindness, bestow what we desire, and what really is fit, upon us, yet it does not satisfy. We are Eternally gaping at somewhat what Future and Unknown; and find, that what is present never fills, never contents; but what we have not, is ever esteemed above it. Can we suppose a Man so far indulged, that a Blank should be put into his Hands, to write his own Terms; yet even That Fortune of his own Carving, would not be so to his Palate, but that in a short Time he would retract it; some Alterations and Amendments, something to be added or taken away: In short, he desires he knows not what. How well soever the Particulars may please, yet when the Account comes to be summed up, nothing contents him; for, to say the Truth, he is Uneasy, and discontented with his own self.  
His Weakness is still Greater, and more conspicuous, in the Use and Enjoyment of what he hath, 
In Using and Enjoying.  than in the Desire of what he hath not; and that in several Respects. First, in that he cannot manage, nor reap the Benefit of Things as they really are, and in their Native Purity; but there is a Necessity of disguising, and adulterating them, that they may be accommodated to our Purpose. Elements, Metals, and other Things in their Primitive Simplicity are perfectly useless to us; Pleasures and Delights, and never to be enjoyed without a Mixture of Pain and Inconvenience. 

* 
— Medio de fonte leporum.  
Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat.  Lucret. L. 4. — For still some bitter Thought destroys  
Our fancied Mirth, and Poisons all our Joys.  Creech. Extremity of Pleasure, carries with it an Air of Melancholy and Complaint; and the highest Gratifications of Sense, are Weakness, and Faintings: And that which gives True and Perfect Contentment hath much more Solidity, and a severe Satisfaction, than of Gaiety and Transport in it.  

† Ipsa felicitas se nisi temperate, premit.  Even Happiness, itself, if it do not moderate itself, oppresses and destroys itself. Which gave occasion to one of the Ancients to say, That God sold us all the good Things we receive from him; meaning, that none of them are Pure and Unmingled; and we cannot be said to have That gratis, for which we pay the Price of that Evil and Uneasiness which attends it. The Case is directly the same with Grief too, for This is never without some sort of Pleasure annexed to it. 
‖ Labour voluptasque dissimillima naturà, societate quadam naturali inter se sunt juncta; est quaedam flere voluptas.  Pleasure and Pain, tho' in their Natures the most unlike that can be, are yet so contrived, by Nature, as to be constant Companions, and go Hand in Hand— 
Even Tears are shed for Pleasure and Relief,  
And Humorous Man turns Epicure in Grief.   
Thus all Things in this World are mingled and tempered with their Contraries; and it is not amiss to Observe, what Masters in Painting teach us, That the very same Motions and Muscles of the Face, are employed both in Laughing and Crying. And common Experience shows us, that excessive Laughter brings Tears. There is no good Quality in us, without some Tincture of Vice, as shall be shown in its proper Place hereafter; nor is there any Evil, without some abatement of Good. 
* Nullum sine authoramento malum est.  Every Misfortune is capable of being turned to Advantage; there is no Good without Evil, no Evil without Good in Man; every Thing is a Mixture, and nothing comes to our Hands sincere and unmingled. Secondly, All that happens to us, is mismanaged, and taken by the wrong Handle; Our Palates are humorsom and uncertain, and know not how to relish Things as they ought; and from This variety of Tastes, it is, That the endless Disputes, and Inreconcileable Opinions, concerning the Chief Good, have proceeded. The very best Things, oftentimes, decay and die upon our Hands; are corrupted by our Weakness, or our Wickedness; or are lost and come to nothing, for want of Ability to make the Best of them; nay, sometimes they do not only turn to No Account, but to a very Ill One; and what is Good in itself, proves to Us, a mighty Evil, and manifest Disadvantage.  
But the Weakness of Humane Nature is most copiously displayed, 
In Good and Evil.  with regard to Good and Evil, to Virtue and Vice. My Meaning is, That a Man with all his Industry and Endeavours, cannot be entirely Good, nor entirely Wicked. He is Master of nothing, 
Virtue and Vice.  in short. Upon this occasion we will consider Three Points. The first is, That it is not possible to exercise every kind of Virtue; The Reason is, 
See Advertisements at the End of the Chapter.  that some of them are incompatible, and can never dwell together; the same Persons, and the same Circumstances, are not capable of them. As for Instance, The Chastity of a Virgin, and that of a Widow; the Virtues of a Single, and those of a Married Life; These Latter in each Kind, Widowhood and Marriage, being Conditions of much more Encumbrance, and Trouble, more Difficulty, and therefore more Virtue, than the quiet, and undisturbed State of Celibacy and Virginity; though Those on the other Hand, have the Advantage in Purity, and Grace, and Freedom from Business and Care. The Constancy and Greatness of Mind, which exerts itself in Poverty and Want, in Affliction and Pain, is very Different from that, which preserves a Man's Temper in Prosperity and Plenty; and the Patience and Thankfulness of the Receiving Beggar, from the Liberality of the Giver. And as This holds in Virtues, so does it much more in Vices, several of which are not only very far Distant, but Diametrically opposite to each other.  
It is no less observable, Secondly, That many Times our Matters are so ordered, as not to permit the Performance of such Actions, as relate to One Virtue, without encroaching upon some Other, and doing what is inconsistent with, or offensive to That very Virtue we are practising; because things often interfere and obstruct us, so that we cannot satisfy One Duty, but at the Expense of Another. This is like what our Proverb calls Robbing Peter, to pay Paul, and yet thus it is; not from any Deficiency in Virtue itself, but from the Impotence and Insufficiency of Humane Nature, which is too short, too narrow, to give or receive any certain, constant, universal Rule of acting Virtuously; and Man cannot so contrive his Methods, and provide himself with Helps, and Occasions of doing Good, but that they will frequently cross and interrupt one another. Thus Charity and Justice are sometimes impracticable at once. If I engage against my Relation, or my Friend, in a Battle; Justice requires me to take his Life, and Treat him as an Adversary; Charity and Affection bid me spare and preserve him as a Friend. Suppose a Man mortally wounded, and that he hath nothing to expect, but the languishing out the miserable Remains of Life, in extreme Torture; it were certainly an Act of Charity, to put this wretched Creature out of his Pain, by killing him outright, as the Person who killed Saul alleged for himself; and yet this is such a Mercy, as Justice would call one to an Account for; and David punished it accordingly. Nay, the being found near such a Person in a lonely Place, when Search is made for the Murderer, though one be there with Intentions of Kindness, is exceeding Dangerous; and the least, that can come of it, is the being made to undergo the Course of the Law; and brought upon Trial for a Misfortune which one had not Hand in. And this last Instance shows, how Justice does not only offend against Charity, but also how it entangles and obstructs itself, according to that most true Observation, 
* Summum Jus summa Injuria.  The Extremity of Right is the Extremity of Wrong.  
The Third Case, and indeed, the most remarkable of all, is The Necessity Men are sometimes under of using Evil Means to deliver themselves from some greater Evil; or for the compassing some Good End. So that Things in themselves not Good, nay, much otherwise, are sometimes legitimated, and have Credit and Authority given to them, for the Sake of the Purposes they serve: As if Men might, nay, as if they must, be wicked in some Degree, in Order to becoming Good in a greater. And this not only Policy and Justice; but Religion too, furnishes Examples of.  
In Politics, How many indirect Practices are allowed, 
TWO Politics  and daily made use of? And this not merely upon Permission and Connivance, but even by express Direction and Approbation of the Laws. 
† Ex Senatus consultis & plebiscitis scelera exercentur.  Crimes are Established by Public Edicts, as we shall have Occasion to observe more at large in another Place. 
Book III. Chap. 2.  When a State is full and overgrown, like a replete Body, whose Humours are either too Noxious, or too many to be endured; the Method of discharging this Oppression, is, to send off its Superfluities of Men, or those among them, who are of the hottest and warlike Dispositions, to be knocked on the Head abroad. Thus a Vein is breathed; but the Ease it gives, is at the infinite Expense and Trouble of some other Country. And this we know hath been the Practice of Franks and Lombard's, Goths and Vandals, Turks and Tartars. So again, a Foreign War is often begun, and maintained abroad, on purpose to keep busy Spirits employed, and to prevent Insurrections, and Civil Dissensions at Home. Lycurgus, as a Lesson of Temperance, used to make Slaves Drunk; that Men of Quality, from Their Extravagances, might learn to detest this Vice. The Romans, to harden their People, and make Dangers and Death familiar and contemptible, instituted those Inhuman Sights of their Gladiators, and entertained them with Blood and Slaughter every Day. This at first, indeed, was consigned to condemned Malefactors only; than it came to Innocent Slaves; and at last Freemen, and People of Condition practised, and valued themselves upon it. The Stews in some great Cities, are of the same Kind; and so are the Usury, the Divorces of the Law of Moses, and among other People and Persuasions; Whose only Recommendation is This, That they are allowed for a present Necessity, and to put a Stop to greater Mischiefs.  
So likewise in Justice, which cannot subsist nor be put in practice, 
III. Justice.  without some mixture of Injustice. Nor is this the Case of Communtative Justice only, This were no strange Matter; for here it is in some sort necessary; Men could not live by their Trades, nor maintain Commerce with one another without some reciprocal Injuries and Ossences; every Man must sell a thing for more than it is strictly worth; and therefore some Laws have allowed Men to Cheat, provided it be not above half the Price of the Goods: But Distributive Justice, which consists in dealing Rewards and Punishments, does the like; so she herself confesses, 
* Sammum Jus summa Injuria Et Omne magnum Exemplum habet aliquid ex iniquo, quod contra singulos Utilitate public● rependitur.  Extreme Right is extreme Wrong. And All eminent exemplary Cases have some Alloy of Injustice in them; wherein however, the Hardships which private Men suffer, are well paid with the Advantages that accrue to the Public from them. Plato allows in several places, that Public Ministers should draw Criminals to a full Discovery, by false Hopes and Promises of Pardon and Favour, which they never intent to make good. Which is to make a way to Justice through Impudence, and Cozenage, and Falsehood. And what shall we say of that cursed Invention of Racks, which are a Trial of Patience indeed, but none at all of Truth? For you shall never be able to get the Truth out of Them that can, nor out of Them that cannot endure them. Why should we think extremity of Pain can more dispose a Man to tell what is, than to tell what is not? If an Innocent Man be supposed endued with Patience enough to bear the Torture, why should the Concern for saving his Life inspire a guilty Person with the same degree of Resolution? I know it is commonly replied in excuse of this Barbarity, That the Pain astonishes and enfeebles the Guilty, and extorts a Confession of his Treachery from him; whereas it hath the quite contrary effects of confirming and fortifying the Innocent. But the Contrary of this happens so often, that to speak the Truth, This is an ensnaring and a pitiful Method; a poor and base way of Dealing, full of Doubt and Uncertainty. For what would not a Man say or do to get quit of such Misery? 
* Etenim Innocentes mentiri cogit Dolour.  Pain extorts Lies from the most Innocent; so that a Judge, which examines upon the Rack, to prevent the Death of Innocent Persons, first Racks the Innocent, and then Murders him. Many a Thousand People have loaded themselves with false Accusations. But were it not so, what intolerable Injustice and Cruelty is it to torture and break a Man to pieces, for a Fault which as yet there is no Proof of? To avoid killing him without Cause, they do ten times worse than kill him. If he be innocent, and bear it out, What Justice can there be in putting him to any Pain at all? You'll say, By bearing the Rack he is absolved; I thank you very kindly. But This, however, tho' an Evil, is the least, Humane Infirmity could contrive; and yet this is not practised every where neither. I confess, to Me the Custom of determining Controversies, and clearing Men's Innocence by Combat, seems to have less of Injustice and Barbarity in it. And yet This, tho' formerly much in request, is long since very justly condemned and exploded. For Christianity allows no such bloody Methods, nor warrants any dependence upon them, for a discovery of the Truth.  
But if Man be so weak (as we have seen) in regard of Virtue, and in his practical Capacity; 
V Truth.  he is much more so in his Intellectual, and in relation to Truth. 'tis prodigious, that Man should be so formed by Nature, as to desire Truth eagerly, and grudge no Pains to attain it; and yet so at the same time, as not to bear it when it offers itself to his View. The Flashes of it blind him, the Thunder of it stuns him; it is too bright, and too loud to be born. This is not Truth's Fault however, which is exceeding beautiful, exceeding lovely, exceeding good and beneficial to Mankind; and what was said of Virtue and Wisdom, is at least as properly applicable to Truth; 
* Quae si oculis cerneretur, mirabiles sui amores excitaret. Ci●. of. l. 1.  That could we behold all its Charms, the whole World would be infinitely in love with it. But the Defect is on Man's side; his Faculties cannot bear so strong a Light; its Beams dazzle, nay hurt his Senses. In Affairs merely Humane, he that sets it before us, is esteemed our Enemy. Truth and Plain-dealing are disobliging things. And what Perverseness is this? that what we love and seek so passionately, we should be so loath, so angry to find? Truth is not only amiable, but knowable too, yet not perfectly so by Us; for at present it seems Man is only strong in Desire, but weak in his Enjoyment of it; and not able to receive what he desires. The Two chief Means made use of to bring him to the Knowledge of the Truth, are Reason and Experience. But both these are insufficient, and so very weak (tho' of the Two, Experience seems the more so) that no certain Conclusions can be drawn from them. Reason hath so many Tricks and Turn, is so flexible in its Arguments, and so disguis d in its Forms, that any thing may be made plausible from it; (as will be observed in another place) Experience is no less fallible, because Events are constantly unlike one another. Nothing in Nature is so Universal as Disparity; nothing so rare, so difficult, so impossible indeed as Likeness: And nothing argues greater Weakness, and want of Judgement, than the not being able to discern and distinguish the Difference. This, however, is to be understood of such a Likeness, and such a Diversity as is perfect, and holds in every Circumstance: For indeed both Similitude and Dissimilitude are everywhere in some respect and degree. No Two things are in every regard Like; none in all respects Unlike one another. So exceedingly ingenious hath Nature approved herself in the Mixture and Composition of the World.  
But after all, What can make more full Discoveries of Humane Infirmity, than Religion itself hath done? It's main Intention and End is to lower Man in his own Esteem; to show, and make him duly sensible, how wicked, how weak, how mere a Nothing he is; and in this humble Sense, to drive him to God for Succour and Support, who is, indeed, his Happiness, his Resuge and Strength; nay, his All. The first Method taken to inculcate these mean Notions of ourselves, is by Instructing, Reminding, Upbraiding us; setting before us the Reproachful Titles of Dust and Ashes, Earth, Flesh and Blood, Grass, and the like.  
After that, it insinuates this Truth after a most noble, and excellent, and stupendous manner; introducing God, humbling, debasing himself, and becoming weak for the sake of Man; speaking, expostulating, entreating, promising, swearing, growing angry, threatening; and, in a Word, entering into Treaty and Terms, and managing him by all the endearing Arts of Persuasion, in the same tender, kind, condescending Methods, with which a fond Father wins and gains upon his Children, by stooping to their little Follies, and imitating their Infant-Imperfections. So very great it seems, so insuperable was the Weakness of Humane Nature, that no Access could be attained, no Correspondence held with the Divinity, till God himself was pleased to make the first Approaches; and by descending to our Capacities, and our Level, to draw us nearer to himself. While He continued in his Native Majesty, the Distance was too vast; and therefore the only way to bring Us up to Heaven, was for God to come down upon Earth.  
A Third Instance is in the Ordinary Exercise of Religion; for what more lively Emblems, more expressive Symbols, more unanswerable Proofs of our Impotence and Insirmity, than the Principal and most Solemn Acts of Worship have ever been?  
What shall we say to Sacrifices, which in former Ages seem to have been in use all the World over? I mention not the horrible unnatural Cruelties, into which, through the Corruption of Mankind, and the Wicked Artifice of the Devil, this Custom degenerated in Idolatrous Countries; those barbarous Oblations, or rather Murders and Massacres of Men and Children, of the best and most innocent Persons among them: But, confining ourselves to that of Beasts only, we shall be clearly convinced, that These were so many Marks and Remembrancers of Men's own Vileness and Infirmity.  
For, first of all; In the very Nature of the Thing, they were so many Testimonies of the Curse and Condemnation we lay under; a sort of public, authentic Acknowledgement, that the Offerer himself had justly deserved that Death, inflicted by Him upon the Beast; and a beseeching God to accept that devoted Life, in the stead of his own forfeited Life: For without all Dispute, had there been no Curse, no Condemnation to which Men were liable; neither would there have been any Place, or possible Occasion for Bloody Offerings, Expiations, or Propitiatory Sacrifices.  
This is a farther Evidence, Secondly, of our Weakness, if we look at the Meanness of the Intention, upon which that Usage grew and was encouraged; and That could be no other than the Hope of Appeasing and Gratifying Almighty God, by such Bloody Oblations. I speak not now of the Reasons why God instituted Sacrifices; but of that Notion which plainly appears to have been predominant in the Minds of Men, who did not see into the Mysterious End of them; which the Generality of the Jews themselves never did; and much less could it be expected that the Pagan World should penetrate into it.  
It is true, indeed, Almighty God, in great Grace and Compassion to those more early and ignorant Ages of the World, which knew no better; did very favourably accept Good Men, when they approached him with this sort of Devotion; and the Apostle takes particular Notice of his having Respect to Abel and his Offering; 
Heb. xi.  as the History of the Old Testament does, of his testifying that Acceptance by visible Signs, in the Case of Noah, Abraham, and Others. There being this Motive to his Mercy, that what was done of that kind proceeded from an Intention to serve and honour him; and that the Understandings of Men were gross and heavy; they were in their Minority, and under a Schoolmaster, (as St. Paul expresses it of the Jewish People) but at the same time honest and wellmeaning: And it is not improbable, that this Opinion, so universal at That time, might represent Sacrifices to them, as a Dictate of the Law of Nature, and the only proper Method of Divine Worship.  
There was, it is confessed, another Consideration, which rendered Sacrifices very valuable and wellpleasing to God; whereby they were made use of, as Figures and Representations of that One truly meritorious Sacrifice, to be offered upon the Altar of the Cross afterwards. But this is a Mystery peculiar to the Jewish and Christian Religion. And as it is a Common, so is it an Excellent and Adorable Instance of the Divine Wisdom, to convert what is of Human Institution, Natural Usage, or of a Corporeal Nature, to High and Holy Purposes, and make such things as the Ceremonial Law consisted of, turn to a Spiritual Account.  
But still This does not by any means infer, that God took pleasure in these things, as of any real Intrinsic Worth and Good in themselves; For even before Grace and Truth set this Matter in its clearest Light by the Gospel, the Prophets were not sparing to declare the Contrary; and Those among the Jews of more enlightened Understandings, saw this perfectly well, and acknowledged it, even while the Practice of offering them continued. 
Psal. li.  Thus David; Thou desirest no Sacrifice, else would I give it thee, but thou delightest not in Burnt-Offerings. 
Psal. xl.  Burnt-Offering and Sacrifice for Sin hast thou not required. And again, speaking in the Person of God himself, 
Psal. l.  I will take no Bullock out of thy House, nor He-Goat out of thy Folds. They called upon Men for Oblations of another kind, more Noble and Spiritual; more becoming Them to bring, and more worthy and fit for a Holy Deity to receive. The Sacrifice of God is a Contrite Spirit, and the Offering of a pure Heart: Mine Ears hast thou opened, that I should do thy Will; yea thy Law is within my Heart. Offer unto God the Sacrifice of Praise and Thanksgiving; I will have Mercy and not Sacrifice. And many other Passages to the same Purpose. And at last, to clear this Matter, and put it beyond a Doubt, the Son of God himself, who was Truth, and the Teacher of it, and who condescended to come into the World, that he might disabuse Mankind, and rescue them from their Ignorance and Errors, hath utterly abolished this way of serving God: Which he would never have done, had there been any Essential Goodness in it, which could have recommended it for its own sake to God his Father. But when He was come to be the End of the Law, and the Universal Propitiation, the use of Sacrifices was at an End too; 
John iv. 23, 24.  and than it is, They that worship God must worship him in Spirit and in Truth; for the Father seeketh such to worship him. And without Question, next to the Extirpating Idolatry, This of abolishing Sacrifices, is One of the most Glorious, Public Effects; One of the best Reformations, which Christianity hath wrought in the World. And hence it was, that Julian, the Emperor, its most professed, most inveterate Enemy, in Despite to it, offered more Sacrifices, than perhaps any other Man ever did; and endeavoured to introduce This Way of Worship, and Idolatry again, as being both directly in Contradiction to the Christian Religion. But of This we have spoken sufficiently; and therefore let us now take a short View of some of the other considerable Branches of Religion.  
The Blessed Sacraments, when Adminished to us in Elements so common, and of such mean Esteem, as Bread and Wine, and Water; and not only so, but in the very Act of Administration bearing. Resemblance to the most Vulgar and Despicable Actions of Life, as Wishing, Eating and Drinking, are plain Memento's of our continual Weaknesses, and Wants, our Miseries and Pollutions. And as the marvellous Efficacy magnifies the Almighty Power and Goodness of God, so the Need we have of them, should humble us, with mortifying Reflections upon our own feeble Condition.  
Thus again, Repentance is prescribed, as the Necessary, the only Remedy for our Spiritual Diseases; and 'tis plain, This, Considered in itself, is an Act full of Shame and Reproach; it upbraids us with our Faults and Follies; afflicts our Souls with Grief and sad Remorse; and shows us to ourselves in the Worst, and most Deformed Figures, that can be: But, however Evil and Uncomely this may seem in itself, yet it is Necessary for reconciling us to God, and That is enough to reconcile Us to it. Another Instance may be taken from Oaths, which are, indeed, Religious Acts, when lawfully practised, by Reason of the Name of God, solemnly invoked in them: But yet, it is evident, that the Common Use and Administration of these, is a Scurvy Symptom, a most shameful Argument, how little Mankind are to be trusted; What Monsters of Falsehood, and Treachery, of Error and Ignorance, we are! How vilely suspicious and distrustful the Person requiring them is, and how liable to Jealousy, the Person from whom they are demanded; and what a mean Opinion those Lawgivers, who ordered them, had, of men's Honesty and Truth; when one's bare Word will not give Satisfaction, and (as our Saviour says) whatsoever is more than this, 
Matt. V 37.  cometb of Evil. Thus you see, not only how Weak and Sickly our Condition is; but likewise what sort of Remedies, Religion hath found it Necessary to apply for our Cure. Since it may be said, in some Sense, with Regard to these Matters, That God hath chosen the weak things of this World. 
1 Cor. I.  He did not appoint such as were Noblest and most Excellent in their own Nature, but condescended to consider the Circumstances of the Patients, and hath accommodated his Applications to Our Capacities. So that the Goodness these Things have, is not so much inherent in their own Nature, as it is Relative, and derived from the Uses they serve, and the Ends to which they are directed. They are Good, as Medicines are, because they check Evil, and prevent that which is Worse. They kill the Cause and Occasion of themselves; for, they sprung from Sin, and their Business is to extirpate, and restrain Sin. They are Good, as public Executions are in Commonwealths; as Sneezing, and Vomiting, and other such violent Exacuations, in our Bodies, whereby the noxious Humours, which oppress Nature, are discharged; such as are at once the Sign and the Remedy of a Distemper. In short, It is well for us that we have them; but it had been abundantly better for us, if we had never had any Occasion to make use of them; and That Occasion we never should have had, if Man had continued as God made him, and preserved his Original Wisdom and Integrity. And accordingly we may take Notice, that These are Things fitted to this frail and mortal State only; and not any of Those more Noble Parts of Religion, which shall be the Eternal Exercise of our Souls hereafter, when we are released from this Bondage of Flesh and Corruption. When our Imperfections and our Sins cease, These cease with them; whereas our Praises, our Love of God, and other Duties of Intrinsic Goodness, and of Eternal Use and Obligation; so far from dying with our Sins and Bodies, that they will be the more Constant, the more Delightful Employment, of our Sinless and Exalted State; and make a considerable Part of the Heavenly, and Divine Life.  
The former Remarks have shown Man's Imbecility in Goodness and Truth; what follows may perhaps surprise you more, because it undertakes to represent him no less impotent in Evil too. For They who do their utmost Endeavour to be Wicked, cannot be entirely so, but are always forced to leave somewhat unfinished. There is constantly some Secret Remorse, some Consideration of Honour, or Fear, that checks, and pulls them back; slackens and enervates the Will, and keeps them from part of the Villainy they intended. And this Restraint hath been the Ruin of many a One, who hath proposed to save himself, by venturing no farther. Which sort of Folly, and the Miscarriages that have been owing to it, gave Occasion to that Proverb, That a Man must never play the Fool by halves.  
This Rule is Judicious enough, but deserves a little Illustration, because, as it hath a Good, so is it likewise capable of a very Bad Sense. To understand it, as if a Man ought to abandon all Conscience, and might in any Circumstances do Well and Wisely to be Wicked without Reserve, is a very perverse Interpretation, and would render it a most pernicious Maxim. In this Respect, that Contrary Proverb is most True, that The shortest Follies are the Best. But it is True too, that in some Cases Mildness and Moderation are of Dangerous Consequence; as particularly, when we have a desperate and formidable Enemy to deal with, and (as we commonly say) Hold a Wolf by the Ears. A Man than hath no safe Middle-Way left; no Course to take, but either the winning him over entirely by Courtesy, or absolutely to subdue, and put him out of a Capacity, to do us farther Mischief. This was the constant Method of the Romans, and a very prudent One no doubt it is. Thus Camillus remonstrated to the Senate in the Case of the Latins, after several Revolts, suing for Terms of Reconciliation; That they must either be admitted into Friendship, or not suffered to be a People any longer; and 
* Dii immortales ita vos potentes hujus consilii fecerunt, ut sit Latium deinde, aut non sit, in vestrâ manu posuerint. Itaque pacem vobis, quod ad Latinos Attinet, parare in perpetuum, vel saeviendo, vel ignoscendo potestis. T. Liv. Lib. VIII. Cap. 13.  That there was no other Way left to secure a lasting Peace, but either Extremity of Rigour, or a Generous Pardon. In such an Exigence of Affairs, to do Things by Halves, is to ruin All; 
Herennius.  as the Samnites found by woeful Experience, who for want of following the Advice of a 
† Vide Tit. Liv. Lib. IX. Cap. 3.  Wise Old Senator, who when they had hemmed in the Romans, and had them at their Mercy, gave his Opinion, either for obliging them by Honourable Treatment, or for cutting them all off; paid very dear. That of Courtesy, is the Nobler Conquest, and aught to be a Man's First Choice; The Second is only for Cases of Extremity, and such Enemies as Kindness will do no Good upon. Now, from all these Instances, the Infirmity of Humane Nature appears very evidently, both with Regard to Good and Evil. A Man can neither perform, nor avoid either entirely, and without reserve; and what he does, or so much as he declines of it, is neither the One nor the Other, absolutely and without mixture. There is some Alloy, some Abatement in both Extremes, and thus Man hath it not in his Power to be tightly Good, or tightly Wicked, but finds himself checked and confined, on either Hand.  
Let us proceed to observe some other Effects, and plain Indications of Humane Infirmity. 
In Reproofs and Denials.  It is a Littleness of Soul, which makes Men, that they neither dare, nor can reprove others, when they have done amiss, nor can bear being reproved Themselves, when they deserve it. And this farther Remark is likewise True, That Men, as they have, or want Courage, for One of These, so do they constantly, for the Other of them too. Now, This is a very Foolish Niceness, to deprive ourselves, or our Friend, of so Beneficial and Necessary a Kindness, merely for a slight Scratch, which at the most does but pinch our Ears, and make them tingle a little. And near of Kin to This, is that other Folly, of not daring to deny what we are sensible is not fit for us to grant, and not being able to receive a Repulse, with any manner of Temper.  
When Men are falsely suspected, and wrongfully accused, they are liable to a Twofold Nicety, 
False Susp●ons, and Accusations.  and each of These is chargeable with Weakness. (In such Accusations, I mean, as common Report lays, and not Those which fall upon them in the Methods of Law and Justice) One of these Extremes, is the Being too easily moved, and over-industrious to excuse, or to justify Themselves, and this sometimes most Impertinently, and Officiously. 

* 
— Mendax infamia terret  
Quem nisi mendosum & mendacem?  Hor. Ep. XVI. Lib. ●1. — False Reports disgrace  
And trouble, Whom? The Vicious and the Base.  Creech. A Man cannot wrong his Innocence more, than thus, to stake his Conscience upon every slight Provocation, and refer his Honesty to the Arbitration of all Companies he comes into. 
† Perspicuitas argumentatione elevatur.  When Things are plain of themselves, a set Argument does but perplex and confound them. Socrates, upon his Trial, would not submit to be vindicated, either by Himself or by any Other; and rather chose to die Silently, than accept the Assistance of that Eminent Pleader Lysias, in his Defence.  
But the Other Weakness is just opposite to This; when a Man of Courage gives himself no Trouble, nor takes the least Pains about his own Justification; tho' the Charge upon him have gained Ground, and prepossessed many; when he despises the Accusation, and the Persons that lay it, as not worth his Answer or Notice; and thinks it would be a Disparagement and a Reflection to engage with them. This indeed hath been the Practice of some great and generous Spirits; of scipio especially, who several times weathered his Point thus, with marvellous Constancy and Firmness of Soul. But a great many Persons disapprove this Method, and take offence at it; for they think it proceeds from Haughtiness and Disdain, too great a Value of Themselves, and want of due Regard for other People. That the depending too much upon one's Own Innocence, and not submitting to remove Jealousies, is ill Treatment: Or else, this obstinate Silence and Contempt, they interpret Consciousness of Gild, Distrust of Justice, and want of Ability to justify one's self effectually. Miserable Condition of Mankind in the mean while! that when they are suspected and accused, have no possible way of giving entire Satisfaction; but whether they speak, or whether they sit still and hold their Peace; whether they do, or do not take care to defend their Names from Reproach, and sure to incur the Imputation of Weakness and Cowardice. We think it a Mark of Courage, and advise Men not to be Solicitous in making Excuses; and when they take our Advice, we are such Fools to Resent it, and complain that they do not think Us worth excusing Themselves to.  
Another Evidence of Weakness is the enslaving ourselves to any particular Manner, and affecting to be distinguished by some uncommon way of Living. This is a vile Effeminacy, 
Niceness and Affectation.  a Niceness most unbecoming a Man of Honour; it renders us ridiculous and disagreeable in Conversation; and is highly injurious to ourselves; by softening our Minds, and making us tender and delicate, and unfit to struggle with any Accident, which may constrain us to change our Course of Life. Besides, it is a Reproach, not to dare to do, or endure, what the rest of the Company do. Such People are fit for no Place but an Alcove, or a Dressing-Room. The best Fashion, when all is done, is to be Negligent, and Complying, and Hardy, if need be; to dare, and be able to do any thing; but to use this Power in such things only, as are innocent and good. A Man does well to know and observe Rules; but not to Enslave himself to them.  
Another Vulgar Folly there is, and a very general one, 
Consulting of Books.  which comes under this Head of Weakness. 'tis the running after foreign Examples in Authors; being fond of Quotations, allowing no Testimony to have Weight or Credit, except it be in Print; nor any thing to be True, but what is Old, and in Books. According to this Rule, the Press may give Reputation to the greatest Follies; Whereas in truth, every Day presents us with fresh Instances of Things in no degree inferior to those more celebrated one's of Antiquity. And if we had but the Wit and the Judgement to make good Reflections upon These; to cull and collect carefully such as are for our Purpose; to examine them curiously, and discover all their Beauties, the Improvement would be wonderful; And every Age would be equal to any of the past, the Transactions whereof we so zealously study and admire; and, to be plain, we study and admire them for no other Reason so much, as that they have Antiquity and Authors to recommend them.  
This again is an Evidence of Weakness, That Men are capable of nothing, 
Extremes  except in moderate Proportions; Extremes of any kind are what they cannot bear. If they are very small, and make a despicable Figure, we despise and disdain them, as not worth our Consideration: If they be exceeding great and glorious, we are afraid of them, admire, and take offence at them. The Former of these Remarks concerns Men of great Quality, and great Judgement: The Second is more generally true of meaner Attainments and Circumstances in the World.  
This appears very plain too, in our Hearing and Sight, 
Sudden Accident.  when we are struck all on the sudden with some unexpected and surprising Accident, which seizes our Spirits before we know where we are. The Amazements of this kind are sometimes so great, as to deprive us of our Speech, of our Senses; so Virgil describes the thing, 

* 
Diriguit visu in medio, calor ossa reliquit,  
Labitur, & longo vix tandem tempore fatur.  Virg. Aen. III.  Her curdled Blood runs backward at the sight,  
And pale numbed Limbs a sudden Trembling shaken;  
She stiffens into Statue with the Fright,  
Swoons, and at last long Silence hardly broke.   
nay, sometimes Life itself hath gone too. And This, whether the Event were prosperous, as that Roman Lady, who died for Joy to see her Son safe returned out of a beaten Army; and the Examples of Sophocles, and Dionysius the Tyrant, Tessifie; or whether it be unhappy, as Diodorus, died upon the Spot for Shame, that he was baffled in a Dispute.  
One Instance more I will add, which discovers itself Two ways, in direct opposition to one another. Some Persons are vanquished into Mercy by Tears, and Submissions, and earnest Entreaties; and are offended at Firmness and Courage, as if this were Sullenness, and Obstinacy, and Pride. Others Acknowledgements, and Prayers, and Complaints make no manner of Impression upon; but Constancy and Resolution wins them. The Former of these proceeds no doubt from Weakness; and accordingly, we find it more incident and common to Mean, and Effeminate, and Vulgar Souls. But the Second it is not so easy to give an account of; and yet this Temper is incident to Men of all Conditions. One would think it an Argument of a brave and generous Spirit, to be wrought upon by Virtue, and a generous Manly Behaviour; and so no doubt it is, if This be done out of a due Veneration for Virtue, as Scanderbag received a Soldier into Favour, for the gallant and obstinate Defence he made against him; and as Pompey, the whole City of the Mammertines, out of the regard he had to Zeno, who was one of their Body: And as the Emperor Conrade forgave the Duke of Bavaria, and the rest of them that were besieged with him, for the Bravery of the Women, who conveyed them away upon their Heads. But if this Yielding proceed from the Surprise and Confusion, occasioned by the over-bearing Power of some Superior Virtue, (as the People of Thebes, who were quite dispirited when they heard Epaminondas in his Defence, reckon up his good Services, and noble Exploits, and Reproach their base Ingratitude with a becoming Indignation; and Alexander, when he despised the noble Resolution of Betis, who was taken with the City of Gaza, of which he was Commander) then there is another Account to be given of it. The Former of these was Weakness; the Second, neither the effect of Courage nor Weakness, but of Anger and Rage; which in Alexander was never subject to any Check, nor ever knew any Moderation.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
THis Author had said in the Preface to his Book, that his Design was to write after the manner of the Academic Philosophers; who made it their Business, o represent each side of the Question in its utmost beauty and Strength, without delivering any decisive Opinion in the Case, or being bound to stand by either branch of the Controversy. An Attentive Reader will easily observe, that Monsieur Charron hath thus far maintained the Character he proposed for his Pattern, as to make the most of the Arguments that offered for his present purpose, without precluding himself from putting quite another Face upon the Matter, when his Subject required, that it should be taken by another Handle. Thus you will find him varying concerning the Attaining of Knowledge by Sense, and whether This be the Only possible way of Information; by comparing Chapter X. and Chapter XIII. 
Sect. 10.11,  And in the very Subject of this Chapter and Section; how distant is the Reflection he makes here, from those others which He and other Philosophers propose to us elsewhere; upon the Noble Excellence of Virtue, the Largeness of its Scope and Extent; it's Independence upon Fortune and Casualties; and the mighty Convenience of furnishing something commendable and proper for our Exercise, and so making us Happy in every possible Condition of Humane Life?  
This Variety then of Thought is a good warning to avoid what our Author so frequently condemns; Too easy a Credulity, and taking his Notions upon Trust: For we find even those Notions not always the same, but accommodated to his present Subject and Design: And That Design well attended to, and taken along with us, will be a very good Guide to our Understanding him aright. For Instance; He had laid it down in the beginning of this Treatise, as a Fundamental Principle, That the Ignorance of a Man's Self is the great and most governing Error of his Life; of an Influence so universally pernicious, that all his Vices and Misfortunes are owing to it. But then This was such an Ignorance as disposed Men to over-value and neglect themselves, by covering, and quite overlooking the Defects and Disadvantages of Humane Nature; and so kept the Patiented incurable, because insensible of his Disease. In order to remedy this Evil it is, that Monsieur Charron undertakes to show Men to Themselves; and 'tis evident his Design requires that he should show the worst of them; and paint only Those Features and Lines strong, which may discover their Deformity, and tend to humble and to mortify them first; and then to awaken that Care, which can never be vigorously employed, till they are first con'●inc'd of the Weakness and Danger of those Circumstances that want it.  
A Philosopher now under these Circumstances, is thus far like a Lawgiver, that it will be Prudence in him to suppose, and provide against the Worst; and therefore, as I would not extenuate the Art or Wisdom of my Author, nor do Injury to his Argument; so neither can I be just to the Dignity of our Nature, and grateful to the Wise and Good Creator of it, unless I give my Reader these short, and (as I conceive) necessary Directions in perusing this First Part of the Book. 

First, That What is here truly said of some, or most Men, (and was sit to be said in general Terms, because the worst Men have most need of such Treatises, and so are most concerned in them) must not be so universally applied, or understood, as to be taken for a common Standard, and universal Representation of all Mankind without Exception.  
Secondly, That in those Vices and Defects, which are general, we should make a Distinction between such as are essential to Humane Nature, and inseparable from its Original Constitution; and such as are the effects of Custom and Corruption, of either Adam's, or our own Sin.  
Thirdly; That what we Charge as a Defect be really so, and owing to the Cause we ascribe it to. These are necessary Cautions for the sake of doing common Justice, as well as preventing Mistakes in ourselves. It were unreasonable to take our Measures of all Mankind in respect of their Bodies, from the Sick or Lame; and from the Fools or the Sots, every whit as extravagant for their Souls. It were a charging God foolishly, to ascribe those Impotencies and Evils to Him, which have been the Consequences of our Disobedience against Him. And it is a most unthankful Aspersion upon the Beauty and Wisdom of his Providence, to charge That upon a Defect in Nature, Which is really no other than a natural Result of the different Fortunes and Conditions of Men: Which is exactly the Case here before us: For wherein is the Excellent Wisdom of that Providence more clearly seen, than in that useful Variety of Circumstances, which Men are placed in? And what can more Vindicate the Justice and Goodness of God from any reasonable Exception, than This, That there are particular Virtues appropriated to every sort of Persons and Accidents; and that no Circumstance of Life is possible, or supposable, but it may be adorned and recommended by Virtues, which are seasonable and distinguishing for that very Condition? This Variety of Virtues than is far from a Natural Weakness; it is not owing to Nature, but to Fortune and Providence; and is so far from a Disparagement, that it is rather an Ornament and Advantage to the World. Indeed if Nature have any thing to do in it, it is the Nature of Virtue itself; for even Almighty God, who is Goodness in Perfection, yet does not exercise both Justice and Mercy (for Instance) at once, to the same Person, and in the same respects: And how is Man the worse for not doing things inconsistent and incompatible, and what even Almighty God himself does not do? The same may be said of the Defects of Justice, taken Notice of afterwards; at least in some degree: Those being the unavoidable Consequences of Multitudes incorporated into Civil Societies, and so many Interests nicely interwoven with one another: All which I thought it my Duty to hint at, thereby to prevent any mean, repining, or ungrateful Thoughts, which such Reflections as These, when lavishly spoken, or unwarily received, might be apt to raise in Men's Minds, to the Disquiet of their own Hearts, and the Dishonour of the Maker and Governor, not only of the Humane, but of Universal Nature.      

CHAP. XXXVIII. III. Inconstancy.  
MAN is a Creature wonderfully Various and Mutable; and the great Difficulty of coming to any Judgement concerning Him, which should be certain, fixed, and universal, proceeds from hence, That our Lives are not all of a Piece, but made up of disagreeing and different Parcels. Most part of our Actions do not arise from steady Thought, but are sudden Starts and Sallies, the Effects of Accident and Impulse, and look like Shreds of several Stuffs patched up, and sewed together. First Irresolution, and then Fickleness and Change of Measures when we have resolved, are the commonest and most apparent Vices of Humane Nature. And our Actions, 'tis plain, do so strangely cross and contradict one another, that it is not easy to believe so many Contrarieties should all be derived from the same Original. We change and are not sensible of it: We run eagerly after every Whimsy of our own Appetites, and are born away by the Stream of Accidents and Passions; 'tis no more Reason, but Inclination that governs us: 
* At nil potet esse aequabile, quod non à certâ ratione proficiscitur.  But sure it is, nothing can ever be regular and steady, which is not directed and ordered by Reason and Method. Thus our very Minds and Tempers vary too; the Climate, the Wether, and the Motions of Time and Seasons, make considerable Alterations and Differences in us.  

† 
Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse  
Jupiter auctiferâ lustravit lampade terras.   In each Man's Breast This Weathercock, the Mind,  
Moves with the Sun, and shifts with every Wind.  
Our whole Life is nothing else, but one unequal, irregular, and many-figured Motion; nothing straight, nothing steady; We are perpetually moving and turning; and the very change of our Posture is so frequent, as to be an Uneasiness and Trouble to us. 
‡ Nemo non quotidie consilium mutat & votum, modo uxorem vult, modo amicam; modo regnare vult, modo non est eo officiosior servus; nunc pecuniam spargit, nunc rapit; modo frugi videtur & gravis, modo prodigus & vanus; mutamus subinde personam.  No Man continues to wish and design the same thing two Days together. Now the Man is for Marrying; by and by a Mistress is preferred before a Wife: Now he is Ambitious and Aspiring, and looks Big; presently the meanest Servant is not more humble, more condescending than Herald This Hour he squanders his Money away; the next he turns Miser, and scrapes all he can. Sometimes he is frugal and serious; sometimes profuse, airy, and gay. Thus we shift our Characters each Moment, and act a Thousand several Parts. 
The Mind is with itself at strife,  
And disagrees in all the Course of Life;  
For what it hated now, it straight desires,  
What now it threw away, it most admires.  Creech.  
So little is any of us the same; and so much harder is it to Sound and Know Man perfectly, than any other Creature whatsoever: For he is full of Doubles and Trickings; the closest, cunningest, and most Counterfeit part of the Creation. He hath a Thousand little Closets and false Doors, where he hides, and comes out again; Sometimes a Man, sometimes a Monster; a Thousand Breathing-holes, at which he blows sometimes Hot, sometimes Cold, and almost blinds you with Cloud and Smoak. Every Agitation is but a fresh Folly; and the Course of his Life One continued Error. He is born in the Morning, and dies at Night; is sometimes in Chains, and sometimes at large; sometimes God, and sometimes an Insect: He Langhs and Cries for the same thing; is satisfied and dissatisfied; ever wishing, and never knowing what he would be at. Sometimes transported, and ready to leap out of his Skin for Joy; and presently again so melancholy and dejected, that nothing can content, nothing quiet him, or make him think Life tolerable. 
Quod petiit spernit, repetit quod nuper omisit,  
Aestuat, & vitae disconvenit ordine toto.  Horat. 1. Ep. L. 1.   

CHAP. XXXIX. Misery.  
WE are now to draw the largest and most distinguishing Line of the whole Piece. 
Misery proper to Man.  Man hath been, already, described Vain and Feeble, Frail and Inconstant, with Regard to Goodness and Happiness, and Ease; But he is strong and lusty, constant and hardened, and tough in Misery. He is in a manner Misery alive, and in Humane Shape; and no one Word is equally expressive of his Condition. For all Misery centres in him, and dwells in no other part of the World besides. To be Miserable is the Property of our Nature; Man alone is so, and every Man is so, as will appear by and by. For a true Representation of this Matter, it were convenient to run over all the parts of his Life; to describe his Essence, his Coming into the World, his Stay in it, and his Departure out of it. This were an endless Undertaking, and I pretend not to it; nor need I indeed, because so many have handled the Subject before me. When I intent at present, is only to instance in some Particulars, not commonly taken Notice of, nor reputed Unhappinesses; at least, such as Men do not throughly consider, nor are sufficiently sensible of, tho' they be in reality very grievous, if we make a true Judgement of them.  
Take this then for the First Proof of Man's Misery, 
In his Beginning and End.  That his First Appearances in the World are Mean and Despicable; but his Going out of it, his Death and Destruction, are esteemed Glorious and full of Honour. By which One would be tempted to think this a monstrous Creature, in the Production whereof there is so much Shame, and so much Reputation in the Unmaking him again. What relates to the former of These, Modesty draws a Veil over; But the latter is proclaimed and received with Triumph; The Instruments are prepared with great Expense; We wear them constantly about us, and look upon Them as Ornaments to our Persons. We are born in Chambers privately, but die before many Spectators, in Fields and Camps, in the Sight of the Sun, and with Sound of Trumpet, and are proud of Butchering one another. Nature hath provided but One Way of coming into the World, but a great many Passages out; and, as if even thus Nature had done too little, Invention and Industry have added their Assistance, and make Men every Day more Ingenious in new Arts of Killing. Laws and Customs have not assigned any Recompense for men's Skill in multiplying, or in preserving Mankind; But all our Ensigns of Honour, and for the destroying it. Arms of Families, Advancements, Riches Commands, Triumphs, and Trophies are decreed to Them that are mighty to oppress, to grieve, to murder Mankind. The Two great Heroes of all Story, Alexander and Caesar, were each of them (according to Pliny's Computation) the Death of more than a million of Men, and yet neither of these added One to the Number. And heretofroe, Men were slaughtered in Public Theatres, merely for Pleasure and Pastime. 
* Homo res sacra per jocum & lusum occiditur; satis spectaculi in homine mors est innocentes. In judum Veniunt ut publice voluptatis hostiae, fiant. Sense. Tertul.  Man, a Creature Venerable and Sacred, is slain for Sport and Diversion; Death in Man is Entertainment sufficient. Innocent Persons are brought upon the Stage, to be Sacrificed for the People's Pleasure. In some Nations it is Usual to curse the Day of their Birth, and bless That of their Death. And the Wisest Man That ever lived, hath taught us, that the Latter of These is much Better of the Two. Now, no Other Creature is so discontented with itself; nor are the Particulars here mentioned, True of Beasts, or any Part of the Creation besides.  
The Second Evidence of his Misery, may be taken from the Retrenchment of Pleasures; 
Destroying his Pieasure.  Those poor and low Pleasures of which he is capable (for the Head of Weakness may have satisfied us, that the Pure and Exquisite are too refin'd for him) the Care taken to abate of the Number, and to check the relish of them. If this be not done upon a Religious Account, how monstrous a Folly is it? Thus far Man is obliged to become his own Enemy; to rob and betray Himself; so that even his Pleasures are Burdens, and he contributes to his own Uneasiness. And this some are so superstitiously severe in, that they avoid Health, and Good Humour, and Mirth, as Evils. 
* O miseri, quorum gaudia crimen habent. Gallus, Eleg. 1.  Oh wretched Men! whose Pleasures are their Crime.  
We are exceedingly ingenious to our Disadvantage; and the Force of our Wit feeds upon nothing more, than the contriving new Arts of Uneasiness to ourselves.  
Thus it is plainly in a much worse Instance than the former: 
Creating Misfortunes to ourselves.  For the Mind of Man does not only spoil Good, and deny its own Appetites, and check even lawful Delights; but it is eternally busy in framing and forging Pains and Evils. Thus Things which have in reality nothing of Evil in Them, and such as Beasts stand in no Fear at all of, our Minds draw in the blackest Colours, and most hideous Shapes; and then tremble, and start, and run away, from Monsters of their own making. Thus we esteem it a mighty Unhappiness, not to be Honourable, and Rich, and Great; and look upon Cuckoldom, want of Children, and Death, as insupportable Evils. Whereas, to speak freely, I know no Temporal Affliction which is really Evil, and felt to be so, but Pain only. And the Reason, why some Wise Men have been known to fear those other things, was not upon the account of the Things themselves, but of the Pain which may happen to be an inseparable Attendant upon them. For This sometimes is a Forerunner of Death; and sometimes it follows upon Poverty and Disgrace. But if you consider these Matters, (abstracting the Pain) all the rest is mere Imagination; a Thing that hath no Being, but in our own Brains; which are eternally cutting themselves out new work, and forming Evils that are not, to add to Those that are; thus enlarging our Misery, and finding it fresh Employment, instead of quieting and cutting it short. For the Beasts feel nothing of all this; and therefore it is plain they are Evils, not of Nature's, but of Fancy's making.  
As for Pain, 
Born to Pain.  which seems the only real Evil, Man is perfectly fitted for That, and born to it. The Mexicans welcome their Children into the World, with this Salutation; Child, thou art come into this World to suffer; take it patiently, and hold thy Peace. And Three Arguments there are, which may convince us, that Pain is in a manner Natural to Man; and a State of Indolence or Pleasure, foreign to his Constitution. The First is, that every Part about a Man is susceptible of Pain, and but very few capable of Pleasure. The Second, That Those which are capable of Pleasure, can receive but one or two sorts of it; but all the Parts receive great variety of Pains, and Those of the most different kinds too; Extremity of Heat and Cold, Pricking, Bursting, Bruising, Scratching, Flaying, Beating, Scalding, Fainting, Swooning, Extension, Oppression, Relaxation of the Parts; and others without Number, that want a Name, besides Those of the Soul; so that a Man is much more able to suffer, than to express his Sufferings. To this must be added, that a Man cannot continue long in Pleasures: All his Delights are a short Blaze; should they last long, they would destroy Themselves, and become painful and insupportable. But his Pains are of a great length, and not confined to certain Seasons, as Pleasures are. Thus Pain hath a more absolute Dominion over us; its Territories are larger; its Reign more lasting, more general, more uncontrolled, and, in a Word, more Natural, than that of Pleasure is, or can possibly be.  
To these Three Remarks may be added as many more; as First, Pain and Sorrow is much more common, and comes oftener upon us; Pleasure is hard to be met with, and seldom Returns. Then, Pain comes of its own accord, without any seeking or Endeavour of ours to procure it; but Pleasure never approaches voluntarily; we are fain to court it, to buy it dear, and oftentimes pay more for it than it is worth. Pleasure is never Entire, but hath always some Abatement, some Alloy of Uneasiness, somewhat attending it that we cannot like, and had much rather were otherwise; but Pain and Dissatisfaction are often without any manner of Mixture or Mitigation. And after all this, the worst part of the Bargain, and that which most clearly proves our Misery, is, That Extremity of Pleasure does not affect us so sensibly as a very small Degree of Pain or Sickness. 
* Segnius homines bona quàm mala sentiunt.  Humane Nature is more accommodated to the Sense of Evil, than of Good. Perfect Health and Ease makes no manner of Impression; but the least Indisposition makes a very great one. 
† 
Pungit— In cute vix summâ violatum plagula Corpus,  
Quando valere nihil quenquam movet—   The Prick of a Pin, tho' the Skin be searce razed, put the whole Body into Disorder; and yet That whole Body, when in a state of perfect Ease, hath no particular Sensation, or Motion of Joy resulting from it.  
As if all this were still too little, and neither Real and Substantial Evils, 
Remembrance and Anticipation of Evils.  nor False, and of our own forming, could complete our Misery; we stretch, and lengthen both the One and the Other of these; give them new Life, and sustain them longer than they could possibly subsist without our cherishing; as if we were perfectly in love with Uneasiness. This we do several ways; as First, by calling to remembrance that which is passed, and forestall that which is to come. This Method can never fail, because the Two great Privileges our Nature boasts of, are Memory and Foresight; and these Advantages and Prerogatives of our Species, we so pervert, as to render them the Instruments of our Unhappiness. 
‖ Futuro torquemur & praeterito, multa bona nostra nobis nocent; timoris tormentum memoria reducit, providentia anticipat; nemo praesentibus tantum miser est.  The Past and the Future both put us upon the Rack; many of our Advantages do us an Injury; Memory calls back our Terrors; and Forethought antedates them: No Man bears the present Burden, and no more. Now what can express a more importunate desire of Misery, than the not staying till the Calamity comes, but going out to meet, and find, to seek, and to invite it, to hasten its Approaches towards us? This is like the Men that kill themselves for fear of Dying, which is, out of Curiosity, or Weakness, to pull down upon us what we most apprehend. And thus we do not only wait for our greatest Evils, and real Inconveniences with a foolish Impatience, but oftentimes terrify and torment ourselves with the Expectation of Those, which perhaps would never reach us at all. These Persons take great pains to be miserable before their Time; nay, to be doubly so, by the sense of the Calamity when upon them, and by long Premeditation at a distance, which is a Thousand times worse than the Calamity itself. 
* Minus afficit sensus fatigatio quam cogitatio.  The Fatigue of Sense is much less in enduring, than the Torture of the Mind in expecting. The real Existence of Misery is, it seems, too short and transitory, and therefore the Mind must give it Birth, and lengthen out its Life, and entertain itself with it before hand. 
† Plus dolet quàm necesse est, qui ante dolet quàm necesse est.  He that afflicts himself before he needs, is sure to be afflicted more than he needs. Beasts are secure from such Wretchedness and Folly, and are in this respect much beholding to Nature, for not having given them the tormenting Faculties of Wit, and Memory, and Foresight, like ours. Caesar used to say, that the best Death was that which was least thought on. And there is no doubt, but the Pomp and Expectation of Death is frequently more painful and terrible than the Thing itself. It is not here any part of my Design to discourage or reflect upon that Premeditation, which Philosophy and Religion require of us: For This is the very Tempering that hardens the Soul, and makes it Proof against all Accidents and Assaults; and a Place shall be reserved for recommending this particularly. But what I would explode, 
Book TWO Ch. 7. 11.  is that Apprehension of Evils to come, which is always Poor-spirited, and sometimes Groundless, and ever Fruitless; which troubles, and sullies the Soul with Black Thoughts, deforms its Beauty, disturbs its Quiet, and embitters all its Joy. And sure it is much better to be absolutely surprised, than thus forewarned: Rather than think thus of Future Evils, never think at all. But setting aside this Antedating of Evil; the very Anxiety, and Care, and perpetual Hankering after Future Contingences of any kind, the Solicitude of our Hopes, the Eagerness of our Desires, the Misgivings of our Fears, are a very great Misery. For besides, that What is future, is equally out of our power with What is past, (and so these Thoughts are vain) we are certain to receive Detriment by that which can do us no service. (For 
* Calamitosus est animus futuri anxius.  the State of a Mind always in pain for what will happen hereafter, is certainly m●st deplorable) It robs us of all sedate Thought; destroys all that comfortable Sense, and quiet Enjoyment we might have of present Advantages; and makes it impossible for Men to sit down easy and satisfied under any Dispensations of the kindest and most bountiful Providence to them.  
Nay, Man stops not here; but, as if he were concerned to furnish new Matter for that Misery, 
Uncasie Inquiries.  which comes up but too thick of its own accord; he cultivates and increases it, by a restless Curiosity, and studious Pursuit of fresh Objects, which may create, or cherish his Unhappiness. With what Eagerness and Pleasure does he thrust himself into Business; and how inquisitive and impatient is he to discover That, which, if it would present itself to his View without any Trouble of his, he ought rather to turn away, and hid his Eyes from? And this busy Temper is owing either to a Natural Restlessness, disposing us to be miserable; or from a vain Affectation to be Judicious, and Wise, and always employed; that is, in plain English, to make ourselves Fools and Wretches: As we needs must be, when our Industry to perplex ourselves is so great, that when we have no Business of our own to disquiet us, we go abroad in quest of Troubles, and officiously concern ourselves with the Affairs of other People. In a Word, Man is under exceeding great and perpetual Agitation of Mind, not only from such Thoughts and Cares as are unnecessary, and turn to no account; but such as are thorny, troublesome, and injurious to him: The Present gives him Pain; the Past, Regret; the Future, Perplexity; and, by his Behaviour under all this, one would think him afraid of nothing so much, as the not being sufficiently Miserable, after all his Endeavours to render himself so. And may we not justly use this Exclamation; O wretched Mertals! how many Evils do you continually endure, which might with great ease have been avoided! how many more indeed are Those of your own, and how few in Comparison, Those of God's and Nature's making! But Thus alas it is! Man delights himself in Misery, and is obstinate in seeking and cleaving to it. He chews the Cud upon each Misfortune, and takes great Pains that none should be forgotten, but renews their Images daily and hourly. Nothing is so frequent, so familiar, as Complaints; and where Occasions are but light and trivial, he cherishes and heightens the Resentment; calls himself the most unhappy Man in the World, and takes it ill not to be thought so; 
* Est quaedam dolendi voluptas.  Such Pleasure does he find in indulging his Grief. And sure the being so very ambitious to enhance our Misery, and to get the Character of Those who excel all others in it, is a much greater Misery, than never feeling or knowing our Unhappiness at all. 
* Homo animal querulum, cupidè suis incumbens miseriis.  And yet this is that querulous Creature Man, that sits with great Eagerness brooding upon his own Miseries.  
Thus you see him abundantly Miserable, by Nature and by Choice; 
In the Remedies of Misery.  in Reality and in Imagination; by Constraint, and with Industry and Pleasure. He hath too much of it in despite of all Endeavours to the contrary; and yet his great Fear is, that he should not have Misery enough. He is always in Chase of some fresh Unhappiness, and in pain till he hath overtaken it. But now we will take him in another Prospect, affected with a Sense, and weary of some particular Evil; (for even This does not happen always; and many Miseries are endured without any uneasy Resentments at all) And when his Mind is thus far awakened, let us next observe, how he endeavours to disengage himself, and what Remedies are to be applied in order to a Cure. And These are such in truth, as rather fret and anger the Sore, than heal it; for by quitting one Evil, he only exchanges it for another, and oftentimes for a worse. But still the very Change is pleasing, or at least, it soothes and allays the Pain a little. He fancies one Evil may be cured by another; and this Imagination is owing to a vulgar Error, that seems to have bewitched Mankind; which makes them always suspect things that are easy and cheap; and esteem nothing truly valuable and advantageous, but what costs us dear, and is attended with much Labour and Dissiculty. And This again rises higher, (for it is not more strange than true, and nothing can more fully prove, that Man is exceeding miserable) That, let the Evils we lie under, be what they will, some other Evil is necessary, for the expelling and subduing them; and whether the Body or the Mind be the part affected, the Case in this respect is much the same. For the Diseases both of the one and the other, are never to be healed and taken off, but by Torture, and Pain, and great Trouble: Those of the Mind by Penance, Watch, and Fast; hard Usage, and course Far; Confinements and Mortifications; which, notwithstanding the Voluntariness and Devotion of them, must of necessity be afflicting and pungent; because the whole effect of them would be lost, if we could suppose them in any degree subservient to Ease and Pleasure. Those of the Body require nauseous Medicines, Incisions, Caustics, and severe Dietings; as They whose Unhappiness it is to be obliged to a Course of Physic, know by woeful Experience. They are got between the Millstones, (as they say) ground and bruised on one side by the Disease, and on the other by a Regimen as bad as the Disease. Thus Ignorance is cured by long laborious Study; Poverty by Sweat and Toil; and Care and Trouble are as Natural in all the Provisions for Body and Mind both, as it is for Birds to fly.  
The several Miseries hitherto insisted on, 
Miseries of the Mind.  are such as the Body suffers in; or, if not peculiar to that alone, yet at least such, as it bears a part in with the Mind; and the highest they go, is only to the meanest of our Faculties, Imagination and Fancy. But Those, which next fall under our Consideration, are of the most refined and Spiritual Nature, such as are more truly deserving of that Name; full of Error, full of Malignity; their Activity greater, their Influence more general, more pernicious, and more properly our own; and yet at the same time less acknowledged, less perceived by us. And This enhances, nay doubles Man's Misery; that of moderate Evils he hath a quick and tender Sense, but those which are greatest, he knows not, feels at not all. Nor can he bear to be informed of them. No Body dares mention them to him; none will do the ingrateful good Office of touching this Sore Place; so hardened, so obstinate, so lost is he in his Misery. All therefore that can be allowed us in the Case, is to handle them with all imaginable Gentleness, and just Glance upon them by the by; or rather indeed, to point them out at a distance, and give him some little Hints to exercise his own Thoughts upon, since of his own accord he is by no means disposed to take any notice of them. And First, In respect of the Understanding; 
The Understanding.  Is it not a most prodigious, and most lamentable Consideration, that Humane Nature should be so universally tainted with Error and blindness? Most Vulgar Opinions (and commonly the more general, in a more eminent manner) are erroneous and false; not exempting even those that are received with the greatest Reverence and Applause. Nor are these so Sacred ●●otion-False only; but, which is worse, very many of them Mischievous to Humane Society, and the Public Good. And tho' some Wise Men (and they alas! but very few) think more correctly of these Matters, than the generality of the World, and have a truer Notion of them; yet even These Men sometimes suffer themselves to be carried down with the Stream; if not always, and in every Point, yet now and then, and upon some Occasions. A Man must be very firm and well fixed, to stem the Tide; very hardy, and of a sound Constitution, whom an Infection so epidemical cannot falsten upon. For indeed, Opinions that have got Footing everywhere, and are entertained with general Applause, such as searce any Body dares to contradict, are like a sweeping Flood, that bears down all before it. 


* 
Proh superi! quantum mortalia pectora caecae  
Noctis habent?   Good Heaven! what Errors darken Human Sight!  
And wrap our Souls in gross substantial Night!   


† 
O miseras hominum mentes & pectora caeca,  
Qualibus in tenebris vitae, quantisque periclis  
Degitur hoe aevi quodcunque est?  Lucret. Lib. 2.  Blind wretched Man! in what dark Paths of Strife,  
We walk this little Journey of our Life!   Creech.  
To instance in all the foolish Opinions, with which the generality of Mankind are intoxicated, were much too tedious an Undertaking. But some few shall be just mentioned here, and reserved to their proper places, for a more full Enlargement upon them; and such are These that follow.  
1. The forming a Judgement of Counsels and Designs, and pronouncing them Prudent, 
See Book III. Chap. 1.  and Seasonable, and Good; or the direct Contrary; according as they succeed Well or III. Whereas the Issues of all these things are in no degree at our own disposal, but depend entirely upon a Higher Hand; One, who, as his own Infinite Wisdom sees fit, prospers the most unlikely Methods, and defeats the Wisest Measures, and most promising Attempts.  
2. The Condemning, and utterly exploding all foreign and strange Things, Manners, Opinions, Laws, 
See Book II. Chap. 8.  Customs, Observances, and looking upon them as barbarous and Wicked, without ever examining into the Matter, or knowing of what Nature and Consequence they are: And all this, for no other reason, but that they are New to Us, and practised only in remote Countries, and different from the Vogue and Usage of our own. As if We were the common Standard for all the World to take Measures by; and nothing could possibly be commendable or convenient, but what hath been received, and is in request, in that little Spot of Ground, where our particular Lot hath fallen.  
3. Somewhat distant from This, 
See Book II. Chap. 10.  is the esteeming and extolling Things, because they are New, or Scarce, or Strange, or Difficult; which are the Four powerful Charms, that attract, and get so absolute Ascendent over Vulgar Souls: And very often it happens, that the Things prized highly upon these Accounts, are mere Vanities and Trifles, and have neither intrinsic Goodness, nor Usefulness, nor any other Consideration to recommend them. For what can be more justly despicable, than That Prince, who is said to value himself extremely, upon an Art he had, of standing at a distance, and throwing Grains of Millet through the Eye of a Needle?  
4. All those superstitious Opinions, and unaccountable Whimsies, which debase and enslave the Minds of Children, and Women, and all the weak and ignorant part of Mankind.  
5. The esteeming Men more or less, 
Ibid.  according to their worldly Advantages; and proportioning not our Respects only, but our Opinions too, to their Riches, Honours, and Preferments; as if the Value of a Horse were to be taken from his Trappings; and the Buyer, to know his good Qualities, and adjust his Price, should look no farther than the guittering ●●idle and embroidered Saddle.  
6. The rating Things not according to their Real, Natural, and Intrinsic Worth, which oftentimes is concealed; but according to the Outward Face and Show; the Pomp and Figure, the Noise they make, and the Reputation they have in the World.  
7. The thinking, that a Man is sufficiently revenged of his Enemy, when he kills him; whereas This is to put him under Shelter, and out of the Reach of all manner of Evil, and to expose one's own self to it. 'tis to take away from him all power of Feeling, or being hurt by the Revenge we intent; and that very Act, which designs him the greatest Mischief, sets him at perfect Ease. This is a Folly that may be reduced to the former Head of Weakness, and is a Branch of That, as well as of Misery.  
8. The reckoning it a most insupportable Injury and Unhappiness, and that a Man becomes an Object of Contempt, for being a Cuckold. For how can we possibly wrong our Judgement more, than by thinking meanly of a Man, and that he is justly ridiculous and despicable, for the Fault of another; which he is so far from having any hand in, that 'tis plain he never approved it? The Case is much the same in our having a worse Opinion of any Man, for being a Bastard.  
9 The disesteeming what is present, and our own, and such as we are in secure and peaceable possession of; and being infinitely fond of the very same Things when we have them not, and merely because they belong to some Body else. As if Presence and Possession abated the real Worth of a Thing; and the not having it were a Recommendation sufficient to raise the Price of it in our Accounts. 

* 
Virtutem incolumem odimus.  
Sublatam ex oculis quaerimus invidi.  Horat. Ode 24. Lib. 3.  Poor Envious We, despise  
Virtue when present; when it flies,  
Stand and gaze after it with longing Eyes.  Creech. Hence came the Proverb of No Prophet being received with Honour in his own Country. Thus to lower the Value of any thing, there needs no more than to be the Owner and Enjoyer of it: Thus Husbands look upon their own Wives, and Fathers upon their Children, with Indifference and Disdain. If you would put an End to your Love, (say the Men of the Town) Mary your Mistress, and the Business is done effectually. Thus every Other Man's Servant is better, His Horse fleeter, His House more convenient than our Own. 'tis pretty odd, I confess, to prefer things purely imaginary, before Those that are real and substantial; and yet this is the Case of that unreasonable Valuation we put upon things that are absent, and at a distance, and other People's; upon things Before we have them, and After we have lost them. The Reason of so unequal a Proceeding in these two Cases last mentioned, seems to be This; That the Value we set upon things Before we have them, is not proportioned to their real intrinsic Worth, but to the false Ideas our own Imagination's form, or the vain Boasts other People make of them; Both which are always bigger and more beautiful than the Life: But Possession and Experience discover the Truth, and then we learn to rate them after the Excellence they actually have, and the Benefit that can be made out of them. Again; The things we have lost are looked upon with Melancholy, and much Regret, because than we consider them entire, and in the Gross, whereas the Use and Enjoyment we had of them was not so, but by Piece-meals, and by little at a time. In which Men are commonly much more unkind to Themselves, than they need to be: For they defer their own Happiness, reserve it for a farther Day, and always promise themselves Time and Opportunities enough for enjoying it hereafter; so that even what they have, they are so stingy in the use of, that they are scarce sensible of what they possess; and it is in a manner all one as if they had it not. And This seems to be the true account, why the Passion and Concern for our Losses and our Wants, is more vehement and visible, than the Pleasures and Satisfactions taken in what we possess. And in this no doubt we must allow a great Mixture of Weakness as well as Misery. We are not sufficient for full and perfect Enjoyment, and only capable of Desiring intensely and in perfection. There is indeed a vicious Temper of the Mind, directly opposite to That I have been speaking of; which is, That Degree of Self-sufficiency and Satisfaction, that whatever We are, or have, appears to us incomparably better than all the World besides. We can be pleased, nay, we can be in common Charity with nothing but our Own; and whatever is so, nothing can be superior, nothing equal, nothing like or comparable to it. I dare not say this Quality argues Men any Wiser than the other; but all the World, I believe, will admit, that it makes them Easier, and contributes much more to their Happiness and Content.  
10. The showing one's self forward and zealous upon all occasions, to resent things warmly, and engage in Disputes with Peremptoriness and Passion, as often as there is any fair and plausible Pretence given, of appearing to be a Man affectionately concerned for Justice, or Religion; for promoting the Public Good, or gaining the Love of the People. For as these are Things which ought to be very precious, and no good Man must neglect them in their Seasons; so it requires Discretion to choose those Seasons, and to manage and temper an honest Zeal. Every Man that is well-disposed, is not qualified for the Undertaking; and every Time and Company is not fit for Him that is qualified, to undertake it in.  
11. The putting on excessive Melancholy, 
Chap XXXIII  or suffering ourselves to be really afflicted, and mourn to a great degree, upon the Death of a Friend, or any other Calamity that befalls him: And to imagine, that a Moderate degree of Passion upon such Occasions, argues want of Affection and sincere Friendship. This is not only Misery, but an exceeding Vanity too, and as common as it is vain.  
12. The bearing a very great regard to those Actions, which require a great deal of bustle and stir in the doing, and make a Noise in the World; and to slight and undervalue all that are done in a still, sedate, and obscure manner: As if no Effects could ever follow upon such a dull, heavy way of proceeding; but all Men were asleep, and did nothing, that do it not with Hurry and Clutter. In short; All those vain Preferences, which Men give to Art above Nature, are likewise of this kind; for One of These, works with Labour and Observation; the Other easily, quiet, and unseen. And thus whatever is swelled, and blown up by Industry and Invention; that which cracks about our Ears, and strikes strongly upon our Senses, (and all this is Artificial) we respect and value highly; infinitely above That which is mild, and gentle, and simple, and uniform, and common; for such are the Products of Nature. The former of These awakens us into Attention; the latter advances silently, and leaves, or lays us asleep.  
13. The putting unfair and perverse Interpretations upon the good Actions of Others; and when the Thing is well in itself, attributing it to base, or trifling, or wicked Causes or Occasions. So did They, whom Plutarch is angry with, for pretending, that the Death of Cato the Younger proceeded from no other Principle, than his Fear of Caesar; And some Others yet more senselessly, charged it upon Ambition. This is a most infallible Symptom of a sick Judgement; a Disease that proceeds, either from Wickedness at home, and a general Corruption of the Will and Manners, disposing Men to pervert every Thing to the worst Sense; or else from Uneasiness and Envy against Persons that are better than Themselves; or else from a Mis-giving Quality within, which reduces all their Belief to the Compass and Size of their own Abilities; so measuring others by their own Standard; believing Every one as bad as they know Themselves to be; and absolutely incapable of doing things better, or proposing nobler Ends in their Actions, than their own usually are. Or perhaps, as probable an Account of this as any of the former, may be a Natural Weakness and Littleness of Soul, which, like tender Eyes, cannot bear to look at so strong and clear a Light, as that which Virtue sheds, when Pure, and in its native Beauties. Nor is it amiss here to take notice of a Practice exceeding common; which is, Men's affecting to show the Nicety of their Judgement, and the Smartness of their Wit, in finding Faults, suppressing, extenuating, disguising Circumstances, setting Things in their worst Light, and eclipsing the Glory of the bravest Actions. In all which, one would wonder they should suppose any thing worth valuing themselves upon; since it is manifest, all Dexterity of this kind is a much greater Demonstration of their Ill-Nature, than it can be of their Parts; and as it is the Vilest and most Disingenuous, so is it the Easiest and most Vulgar way of Wit, in the World.  
14. Another, which seems to be a very convincing Testimony of the Misery of Humane Minds, (tho' somewhat more nice, and out of the way of common Observation) is, That the Soul in its calm, and sound, and composed Estate, can rise no higher than the perception of those Objects, and the performance of such Operations, as are Common, and Natural, and of a moderate Size: But in order to the raising it up to such as are Divine and Supernatural, such as admit Men into the Secrets of Heaven, it is distempered, and violently agitated; either by vehement Impulses, Ecstasies, and Enthusiasms; or by Trances and deep Sleeps. This I gather, not only from the Tripods and Oracles of the Heathen Pythia, but from the authentic Accounts given us of Revelations, and the extraordinary Manifestations God was pleased to make of Himself to Prophets, and Holy Men in Scripture: Such as Abraham, and Ezekiel, and Daniel, and others in the Old Testament; and St. Peter, and St. Paul in the New. All which Instances seem to argue, that the only Natural ways of attaining to these extraordinary Communications, are by Transport and Sleep, by Visions and Dreams. So that our Mind, it seems, is never so Wise, as when it is out of its Senses; nor ever so truly Awake, as in Sleep. It arrives best at its Journey's End, by leaving the Common Road; and takes the Noblest and most successful Flights, when it's own Faculties appear most depressed; as if it were necessary to Lose itself for the Finding somewhat better and more lofty; and to be Miserable in order to its being Happy. This seems most Natural, 
Advert.  because we are assured it was most usual; not that there was an impossibility of other Methods, but that these were best adapted to Humane Infirmities. And therefore it is worth observing upon this Occasion, what Truth Himself mentions, as a Prerogative, by which Moses was distinguished from other Prophets: In that God talked with him Face to Face, as a Man talketh to his Friend; 
Deut. xii.  that is, Easily and Familiarly, without any of those vehement Commotions of Body, or extatick Raptures of Soul, which the rest of Mankind used to feel upon such Occasions. And this proves, both that the Other Method was so ordinary as to justify our Author's Observation; and yet that there was no utter Incapacity for this freer way, in Humane Nature, (which deserved this additional Remark upon it); for God, who is absolute Master of Nature, can reveal himself in what manner he sees sit.  
15. Lastly, Can any greater Desect or Misery be imagined incident to the Minds of Men, than the Neglect and Disesteem of their best and most useful Faculty? And yet This is almost every one's Case, while we extol Memory and Imagination, and are fond of excelling in These, but let the Judgement lie idle and unimproved; no Care taken to employ it, nor any account at all made of it. Do but look abroad a little, and you will soon be convinced of what I say. For what are all the neat Harangues, the learned Treatises, the acquaint Discourses, the celebrated Sermons and Books, with which the World is so mightily taken; What, in a Word, are all the Productions of this fruitful Age, (the Works of some few Great Men only excepted) but common Places and Quotations, tacked and siled up together; a Collection of other Men's Labours put into a new Method, with some few Strokes and Illustrations, and so naturalised, and made all our Own? And what can we make of this, but a work of Memory; the Excellency of a Schoolboy, and That which requires very little Brains or Trouble, as to all that part which we pick up from Authors, and find ready cut to our Hands; And the Work of Imagination, for those little Graces and Garnitures, which make up the much less part, added by ourselves? This oftentimes is mere Vanity; no one Struck of a Judicious Man, no one eminently Good Quality discernible in it; and accordingly the Authors themselves, under whose Names good Things are published, are often known to be Persons of weak Parts, and very indifferent Judgement; lose in their Principles, and debauched in their Morals. And how much better than all this is it, to hear a good honest Farmer, or a common Shopkeeper, talking in their own Gibberish, plain downright Truths, in a dry rough way, without Trick or Dress to adorn and set them off; and giving good useful Advice, which is the Natural Product of sound Sense, and an unsophisticated Judgement?  
Thus much for our Understanding. 
The Will.  The Will is in no degree inferior in Misery, but hath at least as many Sources; and the Instances of it are more deplorable, than any under the former Head. These are indeed innumerable; some few of them are such as follow. 

1. The being more desirous to be thought Virtuous and Good, than really to be so; and when one does good Actions, doing them more for the sake of Others, than our Own; making Reputation a more powerful Motive and Principle of Virtue, than Conscience; coveting and taking greater Satisfaction in the Commendation and Applause of the World, than in the secret Consciousness and Comfort of having done our Duty.  
2. The being much more forward and eager to revenge an Injury or Affront, than to acknowledge a Favour, and return a Kindness. Insomuch that to own an Obligation is a perfect Trouble, and Mortification, a lessening one's self; but the taking Satisfaction reputed a Pleasure, a Pride, an Advantage. And what can be a greater Reproach to our Nature, what more betray the Baseness and Malignity of it, than the verifying that Observation; 
* Gratia oneri est, Ultio in quaestu habetur  Thanks are a Toil and a Burden; but a Retaliation of Injuries is esteemed an Addition and a Gain?  
3. The being more violent and fierce in the Passion of Hatred, than in That of ●●ve; more disposed to, more vehement in Detraction and Calumnies, than in our Commendations and good Characters of Men and Actions; to seed upon Evil rather than Good; and entertain ill Reports, and an odious Representation of our Neighbour, with more sensible Relish than his Praises; To enlarge more willingly upon These, allow them a greater Share in our Conversation, to employ one's Wit, and Arts of Expression upon this Subject rather than the Contrary. As the generality of Historians, Orators, and Poets do, who are cold and flat in relating Men's Virtues, but sharp and poignant, eloquent and moving in the Description of their Vices: And thus we find, that the Expressions, and Figures of Rhetoric, which serve to expose and blacken Men and Things, are mighty different, much more full and copious, more emphatical and significative, than Those which are employed in Recommendation and Praise.  
4. The declining Evil, 
Book II. Chap. 3.  and addicting one's Self to Good, upon false and improper Ends; when This is not the result of Virtuous Motions and Inclinations from within, nor the Dictate of Natural Reason, nor the Love of Virtue, nor the Sense of Duty; but some Consideration altogether foreign, and wide of the Matter. Some mean and sordid Prospect of Gain and Interest; the Itch of Vainglory, the Hope of Advancement, the Fear of Reproach, Compliance with Custom, Obsequiousness to the Company; and, in a Word, the not doing Good for the sake of doing it, and because it becomes us, and binds our Conscience; but upon some occasional Motive, and external Circumstance, that happened to fall in with us at that time. And at this rate, the greatest part of Mankind are only good by Chance. Which gives the true Reason of their being so extremely various, and unequal, and sickle, and inconsistent with Themselves; for so must all things needs be, that are governed by Impulse and Accident; and nothing but true and well-weighed Principles, grounded upon Duty and Reason, can produce a steady, constand, and uniform Virtue.  
5. The lessening our Affection for the Persons we have wronged, and that for no other Reason, but merely because we have done them an Injury. Is not this very odd? What account can be given of it? We cannot pretend that this Coldness always proceeds from Apprehensions of Revenge; for perhaps the injured Party hath no such Thought, and is as kindly disposed to Us, as ever: But the Reason seems to be, that the very Sight and Remembrance of him accuses Us to ourselves, and our Conscience takes these Occasions to fly in our Faces, and reproach our Baseness and Indiscretion. So that if the Person offending does not abate of his Kindness, this is a good Argument that he did not offend wilfully, and is not conscious to himself of any thing that can give him a just Dissatisfaction at his own Proceed. For, commonly speakking, Every one that offends knowingly, and with a malicious Design, changes in his Affection afterwards, and either turns an Enemy, or at least very cold and indifferent; according to that usual Proverb, 
* Chi offend mai non pardonna.  He that does the Wrong, never forgives.  
6. And Observation not much unlike the former, may be made, concerning Persons who have highly obliged us: The Sight of such is often an Uneasiness; it upbraids us with a Debt, and awakens ungrateful Remembrances of our Want, either of Disposition, or of Power to require Then. Nay, sometimes Men are so abominably wicked, as even to rejoice at the Death of a Benefactor, because it eases them of this sort of Pain, according to the Remark of an Old Author; Some the more they have been obliged, the worse they hate: A small Debt makes a Man your Friend, but a great one will be sure to make him your Enemy.  
7. The taking Delight in Mischief; being glad at the Pains, and Dangers, and Difficulties of other People; and conceiving a secret Indignation and Displeasure at their Prosperity and Promotion. Nor do I mean here any such Envy or Uneasiness as proceeds from Passion and particular Resentment; for this is chargeable upon the Vices of single Persons only. But the Thing I aim at is the common Temper, and natural Condition of Mankind in general, which, without any Pique, or Spleen, or Provocation, disposes even Good Men 
† Suave Mari magno, etc. Lib. 2.  to receive a sort of Satisfaction from the Risks of Men in Seas and Storms; to be angry at any Preference of our Friends before Us, either in point of Merit or Fortune; to laugh at any little Misfortune that happens to them *; All this argues the Seeds of Ill-Nature to be thick sown, and to have taken deep Root in us.    
The First of these Instances, which of all the rest seems most hard-hearted, Lucretius gives a much more innocent account of, and acquits it of the severe Imputation laid upon it here, in the beginning of this Second Book. And indeed, what is said There upon that one Instance, is applicable to all Here mentioned, which are owing to the Love of ourselves, and comparing our own Case with that of other People. 
'tis pleasant when the Seas are rough, to stand,  
And view another's Danger, safe at Land;  
Not 'cause he's troubled; but 'tis sweet to see  
Those Cares and Fears, from which ourselves are free  Mr. Creech. And sure there is a great difference between Malignity and Self-Love; between Tenderness for our own Safety, and a Malicious Joy in Calamities and Dangers.  
In a Word; To give you a true Representation of the greatness of our Misery, 
〈◊〉 of Spiritual Miscries.  I only add, That the World abounds with Three sorts of Men, which outdo all the rest, both in Number and Reputation; and those are The Superstitious, The Formal, and The Pedantic; These, tho' they are concerned in different Matters, move by different Springs, and act upon different Stages, (for the Three principal Topics are Religion, Common Conversation, and Learning; and each of These is the Field appropriated to each of these Persons; Religion to the Superstitious; Common Conversation, and the Deal of Humane Life, to the Formal; and Learning to the Pedants) But These, I say, tho' engaged in Matters so distant, are yet all cast in the same Mould, and agree in their general Qualities and Characters; That they are all weak and mean Souls, extremely defective either in Natural or Acquired Abilities, incapable or ignorant; Men of dangerous Opinions, sick Judgements, nay sick of a Disease that scarce ever admits of a Recovery. For all the Pains and Trouble you give yourself to instruct these Men better, is but so much Time and Labour lost upon them: They are so much in the Wrong, and so highly conceited that none who differ from them can be in the Right, that no good is ever to be done. If you will take Their Judgements, none are comparable to themselves for Virtue or for Wisdom. Obstinacy and Self-sufficiency, which every where hath too great an Ascendent, reigns Absolute here, and is in its proper Kingdom. Whoever hath once drunk in the Infection of these Evils, there are little or no Hopes left of ever making him a sound Man again. For what is there more tightly foolish, what more stiff and inflexible than these Fellows? They are secured by a double Barrier from the Conquests of Reason and Persuasion; First, by their Weakness, and Natural Incapacity, which disables them from seeing the Strength of Arguments and Reproofs; and then, by a false Confidence in their own Excellencies above the rest of the World, which makes them despise all Others, as their Inferiors, unable to advise, and unfit to reform Those, who are already so much wiser and better than They.  
As for the Superstitious, 
The Superstitious. See Book II. Chap. 5.  they are highly Injurious to God, and dangerous Enemies to True Religion. They disguise themselves with a Mask of Piety, and Zeal, and Reverence, and Love for God; and this Jest they carry so far, as to tease and torment themselves with Austerities and Sufferings, that were never required at their Hands. And what is to be done with such infatuated Wretches as These, who imagine that those voluntary Afflictions are highly meritorious; that the Almighty is indebated to them, and much obliged by Works which he never commanded; and that all the rest ought to be released in consideration of These? Tell them, they take things by the wrong Handle; that they stretch, and pervert, and misunderstand the Scriptures, and lay Burdens upon themselves, more and heavier than God ever laid. Their Answer is, that They intent well; (and that Intention they doubt not will Save them) that what they do is from a Principle of Piety and Devotion, and cannot want Merit and Acceptance upon that Account. Besides, there is something of Interest in all this, which you can never prevail with them to part with; for what Gain is to be proposed in Prospect, what Satisfaction to be received in Present, which can make them amends for the mighty Expectations and Raptures of that fond Notion, that by this means God becomes Their Debtor, and they merit at His Hands?  
The Formalists are a sort of People entirely devoted of Form, 
Formalists.  and Show, and Outside; and These think themselves at liberty to indulge their Passions, and gratify any, though never so unlawful, Desires, without Check and Control, provided they do not offend against the Letter of the Law, nor omit any of those external Observances, which are required in their Behaviour, and looked upon as the Rules of Living. Here you shall see an old griping Jew, that hath brought God knows how many Families to Beggary and Ruin; but he hath done no hurt in all this: For he never asked for more than his Own, at lest what he thought so; and if upon these Demands, Arrests, and Suits, and Prisons have ensued, yet he only suffered the Law to take its Course; and who can blame this honest Man for coming by his Right in the way of Justice? But O Good God how many good things are neglected, and how many wicked and barbarous things done, under the pretence of Forms, and the Protection of the Laws! Nothing can be truer, than that Extremity of Right is Extremity of Wrong. He that makes This the Rule of all his Proceed, and allows himself to take the Advantage of the Law upon every occasion, is so far from an honest Man, that he is one of the most dangerous Knaves. Such Reason was there for that Saying used to this purpose, God deliver us from the Formalists.  
By Pedants, I mean a sort of prating Fellows, who first tumble over Books with great Pains and Study, and afterwards let fly in all Companies, and vend all they have picked up in their Reading, with as much Impertinence and Ostentation; and all this too, to turn a Penny, and promote their Interest, or their Credit by it. There are not in the World a Pack of more little Mercenary Wretches, more unfit for Business, and yet at the same time more forward, and presuming, and conceited of Themselves. Hence perhaps it is, that in all Countries, and all Languages, Pedant and Scholar are Terms of Ridicule and Reproach. To do a thing aukwardly, is to do it like a Scholar. To behave one's self like a Clown, and be ignorant of the World, is to be a mere Scholar. Such Scholars I mean as These I am now treating of; for these Reflections do not concern Learned Men in general, but such superficial Pretenders to it, as are only walking and living Nomenclatures; that have a Memory stuffed full of Other Men's Knowledge, but none at all of their Own. Their Judgement, their Will, and their Consciences are not one whit improved by it; They are never the wiser, nor more prudent; never the more dextrous in Business, nor the more honest and virtuous, for all the Schemes and Institutions they have run through. They can repeat These, but they have not digested them; are Masiers of the Speculative part, but know nothing of the Application and Practice. So that all the fruit of their study is but to make them the more acquired, more egregious Fools; more full of Themselves, and more noisy and insupportable in all Companies. They swell their Memory, but sink their Wit, and adulterate their Understandings. And in such Persons as These, That Misery is most conspicuous, 
〈◊〉 Parag. 9 〈…〉.  which we lately placed the last of that sort, with which the Intellectual Faculty of the Mind seems principally affected.   

CHAP. XL. V Presumption.  
WE are now come to the last, and most hideous Line of the whole Picture; which makes up the other Branch of Pliny's Description; For this is indeed the Deformity of our Nature, the Bane of our Minds, the Source of the worst and most erroneous Opinions, both Public and Private; and yet, as bad as it is, 'tis a Vice natural to, and born with every Man. Now we shall do well to consider this Presumption in its several Respects, above, below, upon the level, within, and without us. As the Object is God, and the Celestial Bodies, Terrestrial Bodies, and Beasts; Man our Equal, and our own Selves: And the whole Matter will turn at last upon these Two Points, The setting too high an Estimate upon our Own, and too low upon Other Things; Every Man in this Sense deserving the Character given by our Blessed Saviour, of the Pharisees, They trusted in Themselves, and despised Others. A Word or two now upon each of the  Particulars.  
And First, with regard to Almighty God, (it is a horrible and melancholy Truth, 
Presumption in respect of God.  but true it is, that) all Superstition and false Worship, the affected Excesses, and the Wilful Defects in our Religious Services, are entirely owing to the want of a sufficient Esteem and Reverence for God; the not being sensible what sort of Being He is, and entertaining such Opinions and Ideas of the Divine Nature, as are not sufficiently lofty, and pure, and refined. Now by saying sufficiently so, I would not be understood, that our Apprehensions should bear any proportion to the Essential Greatness of his Majesty; for God is Infinite, and admits of no proportion at all. Consequently there is no possibility in Nature, that our Conceptions should ever soar up to such a height and sufficiency as This; And therefore I mean that sufficiency only to be wanting, which Nature hath made us capable of, and Duty requires from us. We do not raise nor direct our Minds, nor dart our Thoughts strong, or high enough, when we form Notions of the Divinity: Alas! why do I say, not high and strong enough? when it is but too evident, and our Actions speak it out, that we entertain very feeble, and mean, and low Apprehensions of him. And we serve him indeed accordingly; we offer him Things most unworthy of him, and deal with him more basely and disrespectfully, than we pretend, or dare, to do, with several of his Creatures. We discourse, not of his Works only, (which yet command some Regard because they are His) but we talk of his Essence and Majesty, determine his Will, interpret his Judgements, pass Sentence upon the Dispensations of his Providence, and all this more peremptorily, more saucily, than any Man of good Manners would take upon him to do, with the Counsels and Proceed of his Prince. And yet every one thinks he may make bold with his God in Cases, where to use the same Freedoms with any Person of Honour, would be condemned for insufferable Rudeness and Contempt. A great many Men would reject such Service and Homage, and think themselves highly injured and affronted, if we should talk so manly of them, and make use of their Name upon such trifling Occasions, and in so contemptuous a manner as we do that of God. We undertake to manage him, go about to flatter and caress, to bend and bring him over, to bribe and to compound with him; nay, I might tremble to say it, some think even to brave and dare him, to snarl and grumble, to take things ill, and be exceeding angry at him. Caesar had his Pilot hoist Sails boldly, and fear nothing tho' Winds and Seas, and Stars and Fate were against him, but buoy himself up with this Confidence, in opposition to all Difficulties, That He who had Caesar aboard, could not miscarry. Augustus, after having been Tempest-beaten at Sea, took upon him, to set Neptune at Definance, and by way of Revenge, ordered his Image to be taken away from among the rest of the Gods, and excluded the solemn Procession at the Ludi Circenses. Xerxes' scourged the Seas, and sent a Challenge to Mount Athos. The Thracians, when it Thunders and Lightens, shoot Arrows up against Heaven, with all their Might, that by this means they may bring the Gods to Reason. And there goes a Story of a certain Christian King, in a neighbouring Country, whom when God had severely chastised, he swore he would be revenged on him; and to make his Words good, commanded, That for Ten Years next ensuing, no Person within his Dominions should dare to put up any Prayers to God, or make mention of his Name any other way. 

* 
Audax japeti genus— mdash;  
Nil mortalibus arduum.  
Coelum ipsum petimus stultitià, neque  
Per nostrum patimur seelus  
Iracunda Jovem ponere sulmina.  HOrat. Lib. 1. Od. 3.  Nought is too hard for Man.  
Grown Gians in Impiety,  
Our Impious Folly dares the Sky.  
We dare assault Jove's glorious Throne,  
Nor (still averse to his Command)  
Will we permit his lifted Hand  
To lay his Thunder down.  Creech. But not to insist longer upon such prodigious Extravagances, Does not the general Temper and Practice of Mankind justify that Character given by Pliny; That no Creature is more miserable, and yet none more proud than Man? For, on the one hand, he forms to himself vast Conceits of the particular Love, and Regard, and tender Care God hath for him; thinks himself the chief, the only Favourite of Heaven; and yet this Darling serves him after a most unbecoming manner, and worse than the poorest and most despicable of all his Creatures. How then shall we reconcile these Extremes? How can a Life so wretched, a Homage so poor and base, meet and dwell together in same Person, with such glorious Notions of Himself, and a Preference so vastly great above all the Creation besides? Is not This to be an Angel and a Swine at once? And indeed Men, who entertain these Opinions, and dishonour God, by living in a Disagreement with them (as the generality of Mankind do) must be content to bear the Reproach of a great Philosopher to some Vicious and Hypocritical Christians; That they were the bravest Fellows in the World at talking, but the pitifullest and most contemptible Wretches in their Lives and Actions.  
We are apt to think ourselves of Moment, and great Consequence to God, 
Nature.  to the World, and to Nature in general. That all These are in great Pain and Anxiety upon our Account; That They only watch for our Safety and Preservation; and This makes us look upon Calamitous Accidents with Surprise; but especially, to be perfectly astonished at Death, as if it were a most strange Thing how That should break in upon us, notwithstanding so many Guards that keep Sentry about our Persons, and are all (as we imagine) concerned to secure us from it. For this, among other Reasons, few People ever persuade themselves, that any Hour is their last; but almost every Body, suffers himself to be cheated with false Hopes, at the very Instant of expiring. And what is all This but Presumption? We think ourselves too significant; and fond fancy, that this whole Universe must bear a part in our Death; that some great and general Revolution will happen upon it; that all things decay in proportion with our own Bodies, and fail one another in the same Degrees They fail Us; That there is no avoiding it, but They must all undergo the same fatal Shock, the same Dissolution that We do. And in this Universal Delusion, Mankind live, like People upon the Water, who, when their own Vessel moves, seem to draw Houses, and Towns, and Heaven, and Earth along with them. No Body considers that he is single, and but One; a very small and inconsiderable Part of the Creation: One out of many Millions, whom few have any Interest in, and perhaps fewer yet are the worse for losing; and the Matter is so far from every Body's going along with him, that scarce any Body will so much as miss him when he is gone; no more than a Grain of Sand diminishes the Seashore, or the falling of a Star, changes the Face of the Sky.  
Then again; Man pleases himself, that the Heaven, the Stars, and all that Glorious Movement over our Heads, and indeed the whole Frame and Order of this Material World, was thus created and constituted merely for his Sake: As if that Description of the Heathen were his due, That 
* Tot circa unum caput tumultuantes Deos.  so many Gods were perpetually Ambitious, and contending about his single Person. And this is a very extravagant Imagination indeed. He is lodged here in the last and lowest Story of the World, at a great distance from the Aetherial Roof; a place, that in comparison of the purer Regions above us, may be called the Sink of the World, where all the Lees and Dregs settle, with Creatures of the meanest Condition, and liable to receive all those Evacuations of Rain and Vapours, which fall down upon his Head; nay, from These he receives his very Subsistence; he lies open to Accidents, that beset and oppress him on every Side; and yet this poor Wretch looks upon himself as the Master and Commander in Chief of the Universe. 'Tis true indeed, Almighty God hath given him a Dominion over some of his Fellow Creatures; and it is likewise true, that the rest over which he hath not the same Dominion, are contrived for his Mighty Benefit and Covenience; but it will not follow from hence, that the whole Creation had no other End than his Service; nor that those vast Globes of Light, and so many Pure Incorruptible Bodies, whose least Virtue is not distinctly known, and which he must be content to gaze at with Wonder and Astonishment, were framed and are continued in this Regularity and Perpetuity of Motion, for Man only. From hence, it is confessed, this Indigent Wretch derives his Food, his Maintenance, and unspeakable Conveniences; The Rays, the Beauty, the Heat of the Sun, The Rain, and Dew, and other Distillations from Heaven cherish and sustain him; and This, no doubt, was one Intent of the bountiful God that made them. But shall we presume to determine from hence, that this was the Sole Intent and Use of them? Shall we call the Heavens and the Elements our Own, and pretend that Their Motions are only so many Tasks for Our Profit? This were, as if the Beggar should call himself Proprietor of the Wealth out of which he is relieved; and the Benefits in this Case are so general, so far from being confined to Man alone, that the meanest Fowl of the Air may as well make the same Pretensions; Nay, in some Sense, these Creatures may make them better; For Man, who receives Conveniences, hath some Inconveniences too from the Bodies above him; he hath none of them at his own Disposal, he cannot understand how far their Efficacy will extend; nor make any certain Conclusions, what will be hereafter; and this puts him into perpetual Uneasinesses, and Fears and Amazements, lest these Bodies should not keep their Course, nor shed propitous Influences, but occasion Barren and sickly Seasons, and so every thing should prove Unkindly and in Confusion; and under the Weight of these Apprehensions he lies and trembles, for what shall fall upon him from Those very Bodies, of which he vainly thinks himself Lord and Master; Whereas Beasts, as they receive the same Advantages of Life and Substance with ourselves, so they receive it without any Disturbance of Mind, or disquieting Presages of the Future; yea, and without any of those discontented Murmurs and Complaints at what is Past too, which restless and ungrateful Man is ever bewailing himself in. I conclude this Observation with that Passage of Seneca; 
* Non nos causa mundo sumus, hypemem aestatemque referendi, suas ista leges habent quibus divina exercentur; nimis nos suspicimus, si digni nobis videmur, propter quos tanta moveantur. Non tanta coelo nobiscum societas est, ut nostro fato sit ille quoque siderum fulgor.  We are not the Proper Cause of the World's enjoying the several Seasons, and their Vici ssitudes; Those Things are ordered by Laws peculiar to themselves, in the observance whereof the Will and Purposes of God are executed. We think too highly of ourselves, if we suppose we are of such Worth and Consequence, that such and so many Glorious Motions should be contrived, merely for our sakes; nor is our Correspondence with Heaven so intimate, that all the use of the Stars should be to direct, or to declare our Fortunes.  
Note. Some Persons, since the Improvement of Astronomy, have given us juster Notions of the Magnitude of these Heavenly Bodies; That several of them equal, and some very much exceed the Proportion of this Earthly Globe; have entertained Notions of a Plurality of Worlds, furnished with Inhabitants, as different from Those we know, as the Regions they inhabit are. A Notion, which I only mention upon this Occasion, to hint, that there may be many Uses unknown to us, served by the Heavenly Bodies; And because the Opinion seems to carry no Impiety at all in it, but pretends to consult the Glory of God, by exciting Men to a greater Admiration of his Infinite Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness, exerted in so much a greater Variety of Creatures, than what we are or can be acquainted with, I thought it not amiss to insert it here; though, as I said, 'tis a Notion only; and what, as we cannot have an absolute Certainty for, so we have none against it. If Reason give any Countenance to this Speculation, Revelation not where forbids it. For Moses, who made it his Business to describe the World we inhabit, had no Reason to mention Others, in which we have not Concern; and his not mentioning Them, was agreeable to the Design of his History; but does not exclude the Reality or Possibility of any such other Systems, as were foreign to his Purpose, and so in no Degree necessary to be taken Notice of. The Reader, if he be desirous of farther Satisfaction in this Point, may please to consult the Eighth of Dr. Bentley's Excellent Sermons against Atheism. p. 4, etc.  
As for the Things here below upon the Earth, that is, 
Animalt.  Beasts and all Living Creatures, Man looks upon them with Scorn and Contempt, as if they were of no Consideration at all. Forgetting, that they are formed by the Hands of the same Almighty Artificer, and are reckoned among the Riches and Possessions of the same Lord; That the same Earth is our Common Mother, and that They and He, are of the same Family; and consequently ought not to be slighted and disdained, as if they were worthy no part of his Concern, nor bore any Relation at all to Him. Hence it is, that these Poor Creatures are so much abused; and treated with an Insolence and Cruelty, that flies back upon Their and Our Common Master; for it is an Affront, and an Impiety, to deal thus by any Thing of His making, such as he does not only Own, but expresss a Tenderness for; thinks them worthy his own Care, and hath appointed certain Laws for their Benefit and Preservation; such as, tho' inferior to Us in the most valuable Parts, yet he seems in some Things to have given the Advantage to; nay, such, as in several Instances, shame and reproach our Follies, and are therefore recommended in Scripture, as Masters for Man to be sent to School to. But This hath been already mentioned in another Chapter.  
It is indeed a Doctrine commonly received, that the World was made for Man, and Man for God; which in some Sense is certainly true, and what I have said is no derogation from it. For, besides that Instruction, which all the Creatures in general contribute to, whether those, Above or Below us; Those useful Hints and Reflections they minister concerning Almighty God, Ourselves, and Our Duty: Some sort of Use, with regard to Profit, or Serviceableness, or Delight, may be drawn from every one of them in particular. From that Part Above us, which we have a less distinct Knowledge of, and which is not at all in our Disposal; This Firmament so nobly Vaulted, so richly decked with Light, and all those rolling Fires above us; The Advantage Man receives from Them is That of Contemplation only. His Soul by These is raised and transported to admire and to love, to fear and to honour, and to pay most profound Reverence to the Almighty Master and Maker of so Glorious a Frame. In this respect it was no ill Remark of Anaxagoras, that Man was created to contemplate Heaven; and some of the old Philosophers accordingly gave him the Title of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. From the Creatures in this lower World, he reaps Advantage and Assistance, receives great Supplies, and Service properly so called. But for Men to persuade themselves, that God in making all these Things, had no other End in his Thoughts and Designs, but purely to consult the Convenience of Mankind; This is too great a Stretches upon the Doctrine mentioned just now, and an Arrogance which I think may very deservedly be charged with all that Folly and Presumption I have laid upon it.  
The Last, but Principal Instance of this Presumption, 
Man himself.  hath Man for its Object; and this must be considered with regard to Himself, or to his Fellows; Within, as to the forming of his Judgement and private Opinions; or Without, as those Sentiments are imparted by conversing with other People. And upon this Occasion we will insist upon Three Things, as so many Topics in close connexion and consequence upon one another; 
There Degrees of Humane Presumption.  by which Mankind betray at once their great Weakness and great Presumption; and in both, great Folly. The First of these consists in Believing and Disbelieving. (I meddle not here with Religion, or Divine Faith, but desire my Reader to recollect what was said in the Preface,) Where Two contrary Vices are observable, which are exceeding common in Humane Life. 
1. Believing and Misbelieving.  One of These, and the more general of the Two, is Levity and Credulity; that is, a Disposition to receive Things, and be persuaded too easily, upon the slightest Inducements; so that to gain our Assent, any the least Circumstance of Probability, or Pretence of Authority is sufficient. This is the effect of Easiness and Simplicity in the worst Sense of the Word; a Softness and Weakness of Mind, such as we observe in mean Parts and Education, the Ignorant and Effeminate, the Superstitious and Fanciful, Men of great Zeal, and little Judgement, which are all like Wax, always in a readiness to receive any new Impression, and suffer Themselves to be led about by the Ears with every idle Story. Hence it is, that we see the greatest part of the World carried about with every blast of Opinion; and possessed with Notions, before either Age or Maturity of Judgement render them capable of choosing; and accordingly These Opinions are not the result of Consideration and Choice, but the Prepossessions of Time and Custom; the Rudiments of their Infancy, the Mode of their Country, or it may be, mere Chance, have taken fast hold of them; so fast, that they are inseparably wedded to, absolutely subdued and enslaved by them; and no Arguments are able to loosen these Prejudices, and set their Minds at liberty from them. 
* Veluti tempestate delati ad quamcunque disciplinam, tanquam ad saxum adhaerescunt.  Some violent Gush of Wind drives them upon an Opinion, and there they cling, as if they were to save themselves from a Sterm, by keeping close to that Rock. Thus indeed the World is managed; We take Things upon Trust, and depend upon other People. 
† Unusquisque mavult credere quam judicare, versat nos & praecipitat traditus per manus error; Ipsa consuotudo assentiendi periculosa & lubrica.  Each Man is willing to save himself the trouble of Examining; and had rather believe than judge: A Mistake that hath passed through many Hands successively, turns and tumbles us about at pleasure: And all this from a Custom of assenting too easily, which is exceeding dangerous and unfaithful. Now this Credulity, so common in the World, tho' it be really a very great Instance of Weakness, yet is it not without a large Mixture of Presumption too: For, to receive and stick by Opinions, and maintain them for certain Truths, without knowing any thing at all of the Matter, this is too much in all Conscience; and therefore some little Enquiry is made into the Causes, and Reasons, and Consequences, tho' none at all is made concerning the Truth of the Thing. We commonly ask, What account can be given of This? or What can be the manner of bringing That about? all along taking the Mattr of Fact for granted, and that Things really are as they are represented; when there is nothing at all in it. We writ Tracts, manage Arguments, engage in Disputes, inquire curiously after Causes and Effects of a Thousand Things, which never had any Foundation in Nature; and the whole Argument on both sides is false. One contends it is This way, another That way, and in truth it neither is, nor ever was Any way at all. How many Jests and Banters, pretended Miracles, shame Visions, and counterfeit Revelations, have crafty People imposed upon Ours, and some late Ages of the World? And why should a Man believe such Pretensions to Events, neither Humane nor Natural, when they may be confounded and disproved by Natural and Humane Methods; when Reason can say nothing for them, and Revelation is so far from giving them Countenance, that it says a great deal against them? Truth and Falsehood have Faces and Teatures alike; Their Mien, their Relish, their Motions resemble one another, and the same Eye judgeth of them both. 
* Ita sunt sinitima salfa veris, ut in praecipitem locum non debeat se sapiens committere.  Truth and Falsehood (says one) border so close upon 〈◊〉 another, that 〈◊〉 wise Man should not trust himself upon the Brink of them, but move warily, for fear of sliding into the Wrong. No Man ought to be believed concerning Matters above the Power and Understanding of a Man; except he come with Authority from above, and bring such Credentials along with him, as are supernatural, and exceed the Operations of Humane Strength; and such no Testimony can be, but the Divine. But it is to God alone that this Prerogative of right belongs, To be believed in whatever he says, for this single Reason, because He says it.  
The other Vice opposite to This, is a Stupid and Obstinate Raslmess, which condemns at all adventures, and rejects every thing for false, which Men either do not understand, or are loath to believe; and therefroe will by no means have That true, which Interest or Inclination makes them wish may not be so. This is a Property more especially visible in such as abound in their own Sense, and think Themselves more capable and more judicious than their Neighbours; such as Pedantic Pretenders to Learning, Men addicted to Dispute, and Those that are violent in any Party, whether of Church or State. They fancy some little sharpness in their Wit, and that They see farther into Things than the generality of People do; and This, with a Bias of their own within, makes them forward and sierce; They take upon them to determine every thing with an Air of Authority, and expect, that their Sentence should be received for Law. This Vice is yet worse and greater than the former; for it is the Extremity of Folly and Madness, to think we know the utmost Bounds of Possibilities; the secret Springs and full Extent of Nature; that We can comprehend the Operations of God, and pronounce that He is able, and what He will please to do; To measure all Truth and Falsehood by our own Capacities and Understanding; and yet This aught to be the Measure of True and False, to justify the Confidence and the Fierceness, which these sorts of Men express in all their Disputes and Definitions of Things: For this is the Eternal Jargon they run you down with, That's Nonsense, That's False, That's Impossible and Absurd. And yet how many Things are there, which for a time have been thought extremely ridiculous, and rejected as impossible, and afterwards have brought such Evidence of their Truth, that we have been forced to acknowledge and yield to them; nay, and after These have been established, we have by Them been led to the entertaining of Others yet more surprising and odd than the former? and on the other hand, How many that have been received for Gospel, have in time lost all their Veneration and Credit, and been discovered to be mere Errors and Impostures, and idle Fancies?  
The Second Instance of this kind, which indeed is an usual and a natural Consequence of the former, 
2. Assuming and Condemning.  is the being positive and stiff in asserting or denying, approving or condemning, according as we have been led to entertain or reject Opinions, without sufficient Grounds for our Belief or Mistrust. This differs from the former only in degree, excepting that it adds Peremptoriness and Obstinacy to it, and so the Presumption is worse and more apparent. That Easiness and Credulity hardens in time, and by degrees degenerates into a Self-Conceit, and Positiveness, which no Arguments can conquer, no Persuasions move or correct. Nay, sometimes the Humour is carried on so far, that Men are more eager in asserting what they do not know, than what they do. 
* Majorem fidem homines adhibent iis quae non intelligunt; cupiditate humani ingenii lubentius obscura cre●untur.  Men persuade themselves more firmly of the things they least understand, and assent with greater readiness to Points dark and mysterious, that they may be thought to comprehend what really they do not, and from a natural eagerness of the Mind, that catches at every thing greedily. It is counted a Reflection to be out at any Point that is started; or to yield a Dispute, in which a Man is once engaged; and therefore Men discourse with Resolution and Obstinacy, and great Assurance, and come ready fixed and determined to maintain their Ground at any rate, how little soever they have to offer in defence of it. Now this exceeding Positiveness, and abounding in one's Own Sense, are commonly Signs of Brutality and Ignorance, attended with Arrogance and Folly.  
The Third, which is a natural product of those Two, and the very Top and Extremity of Presumption, 
3. Persuading.  is, The persuading others, recommending and propagating our own Opinion; and This, not in a mild and gentle Method of fair Reasoning; but with Authority, and in a Dogmatical way; to impose it, as if they were obliged in Duty to believe us, and ought not to ask Questions, or doubt of any thing we say. Now what insupportable Tyranny and Usurpation is This? He that hath received an Opinion, reckons it a work of Charity to win others over, and convince as many as he can of it too; and for the better effecting this Charitable Design, he gives it all the Strength and Advantage he can; represents every thing in its best Light, and adds from his own Invention, as much more, as he thinks may be for his Purpose, to make amends for any Defect or Opposition, which he suspects may be met with, from the Apprehension of the Person he proposes the Matter to. And, generally speaking, there is not any thing for which Men are more tenderly concerned, than for the putting about their Opinions, and gaining as many Proselytes as they can. 
* Nemo sibi tantum errat, sed aliis erroris causa & author est.  No Man is content to be mistaken alone, but every one draws in others into the same Error with himself. Nay, so zealous are Men in this Particular, that where ordinary means of Persuasion are found insufficient, the Defect is supplied by Violence and Terror, Sword, and Fire, and Faggot. This is properly the Vice of Dogmatical and Ambitious People; such as aim at absolute Dominion, and would said be governing and prescribing to all the World. And, for the facilitating this Design, and to captivate Men's Understandings, they make use of Two Artifices. The First is, to lay down some general Propositions, which are termed Fundamental Principles; and such as must be presupposed and granted on all hands; and from These they tell you, you must be so far from departing, that you are not allowed so much as to Dispute, or admit the least Doubt, whether they be true or not. Upon These they raise what Superstructure they please, and so bring the World over to their side; which hath been a very successful Cheat, in propagating many gross Errors, and giving Authority to Things absolutely false. And indeed the Fraud lies chief in Those Principles, which ought to be Truth's Self-evident, and clear to every considering Man; but Some have been advanced for such, which upon strict examination will be found, not only as disputable, but as weak, as false, as any of the Conclusions endeavoured to be drawn from them; and the Propositions contrary to These, carry at least the same Face of Probability, and have as much to say for themselves.  
Some eminent Persons we know of late have taken upon them quite to alter and overthrow the established, 
〈…〉  and so long uncontested Principles and Rules of the Ancients, in Astrology, Physic, Geometry, and concerning the Nature and Motion of the Winds. Now all the Propositions and Notions of Men are equal to be sure, and aught to have the same Authority with us, excepting only so far as Reason gives one the Advantage above another. Truth does not depend upon the Credit or Testimony of Man; nor are there any Propositions that command an absolute Assent, and whose Authority is contestable, but what God hath been pleased to reveal; the rest are mere Vanity and Pretence, that challenge Assent so imperiously from us. Now these Gentlemen require us to take their Word, and swallow All they set before us, without chewing; not any Trial or Examination is allowed you, which is the greatest Injustice and Tyranny in the World. God (as was observed before) hath this Right incommunicable to any beside Himself, to command our Assent in all he says, upon this score merely, because he says it. Where, by God's saying it, is included the Message of all those that are sent, and attested by him, and not any immediate Revelation intended, and nothing else; for in opposition to such Messengers, so commissioned and approved it is, that our Lord says, He that speaketh of himself is a Lyar.  
The Other Method, by which many have been drawn into Errors, is by counterfeiting this Seal from Heaven, pretending some new Miracle, or particular Inspiration, or strange Apparition, or the like; a Trick, which History tells us, hath been often played with great Dexterity and Success, by Princes, and Lawgivers, and Generals of Armies. The first Persuasion taken from the Party concerned, soon gets possession of the weaker sort; but this is so nice, so feeble, and so frail, that the least Mistake, or Mismanagement would spoil and break all to pieces again: And wonderful it is to reflect, what famous Impressions have been owing to poor and frivolous Beginnings. But when this Impression comes abroad into the World, it grows to a prodigious Bulk, and stretches itself so, by the help of Time and Numbers, as to take in Men of better Sense, and more discerning Judgements. For it is to no purpose then to kick against a general Belief; a Man hath nothing left to do, but to come in, and make One. The strongest Evidence, and most distinguishing Test of Truth, is the number of Believers, and the number of Years that have maintained it: And yet it is certain, that Fools are more than half the World in every Age. But, notwithstanding this disparity, it is a hard matter to fix in an Opinion, contrary to the general Sense of Mankind. The Fallacy however last-mentioned hath been abundantly seen in the many Juggles and Cheats which have astonished the Multitude, and been palmed upon them for new Miracles; but by some Accident or other, or by a nicer Observation of some more jealous and acute than the rest, the whole Cheat hath been detected and exposed within a very little while; and yet These very Cheats, if they had gathered Strength, and not been stifled in their Infancy, had done their Business, and met with Wonder and Adoration every where. These Discoveries however of false Miracles, and such as are taken upon Trust, are a greater Confirmation of the True, such as the Faith of Christians is built upon; which have neither wanted Time to ripen them, nor Curiosity of Enquirers to detect them, nor the Malice of Enemies to pervert and overthrow them, nor the Bias of Wicked Inclinations to render Men averse from surrendering themselves up to the Doctrines confirmed by them. And yet in despite of all These, They did, and do, and will continue to prevail and triumph in the Minds of Men. And well it were, if better Care were taken to examine all Pretensions of this kind very nicely, that so the True might not suffer in their Reputation and Effect, for want of being distinguished from the False; and That poor Shift of profane Wretches might be exposed and beaten down, who take shelter in some such Discoveries as have been here mentioned, and, from a Few acknowledged Impostures, and some Others which look suspiciously, and perhaps, if carefully traced up to their first Head, might have been found no better, endeavour to insinuate, that None ever were otherwise. It must be confessed, in the mean while, that the Things these Tricks are contrived to support, and lead Men into, are a mortifying Consideration; the great Variety of contending Sects and Religions, and the infinite Superstitions still in use among some parts of Christendom, the Ceremonies, and corrupt Customs which are Relics of Pagan Idolatry, and which there is no bringing the People off from. And now, by this whole Discourse, we see what precious Creatures we are, and what we are like to come to at last, when we blindly follow such blind Leaders.    

The Fifth and Last Respect under which Man was to be considered; consisting of the Differences between Some and Others; and of the Comparisons arising from hence.  

CHAP. XLI. Of the Differnce and Inequality of Men in general.  
THere is not any One thing in all this lower World, wherein so great Variety is observable, as in Mankind; not any general Head or Species of Being's, whose Individuals differ in so many, and so distant Particulars from one another. If Pliny, and Herodotus, and Plutarch may be credited; There are Men in some places, whose Form and Figure bears but very little Resemblance to this of Ours; and several Mongrels and Medleys between the Man and the Beast. Some Countries are inhabited by Men without any Head, whose Eyes and Mouth are placed in their Breasts; some by Hermaphrodites; some, where they go upon all Four; some, where they have but One Eye, and That in the middle of their Forehead; and a Head shaped more like a Dog, than such as we see Men usually have. Some Places, where the lower part is all Fish, and they live in the Water; where their Women bring Children at Five Years old, and live no longer than Eight; where their Skull and Forehead is so hard, that no Iron can break or enter it, but rebounds back again; where they are transformed into Wolves, and Sheep, and Oxen, and at last return to the Humane Form again; where they have no Mouth, and all the Nourishment they are sustained by, is from the Smell of certain Scents. And, to go no farther, This very last Age hath discovered, and many now living have seen and felt Men, that have no Beards at all; that live without the use of Fire, or Corn, or Wine; and Countries, where what We abominate as the most odious Deformity, is looked upon and valued as the most exquisite Beauty; (as hath been hinted before) As for the Diversity of Customs and Manners, That will be the Business of another Head. What hath been related here may possibly seem incredible; but if it do, our Point will be proved without it. For go no farther than our own Knowledge, and what infinite Disserences are there in Faces? insomuch that Two are not where to be found, exactly and in all Particulars alike. 'Tis true, sometimes there happen Mistakes of one Person for another, because of a very great Likeness between them; but then These always happen, when One of the Parties is not by. For when we meet them Both together, the Error vanishes; and we easily discern a Difference, which serves for a sufficient Mark of Distinction to us, tho' perhaps it is such a one, as we cannot readily tell what to call it.  
The Souls of Men are yet more various, and full of distinguishing Characters, than their Bodies; For there is in this respect, not only a greater Difference between Man and Man, than any that can be discovered between Beast and Beast: But (which is but a bad Business, and not much for our Honour) the distance is more between Some Men and Others, than it seems to be between some Men and Beasts. For one of the most excellent and apprehensive Animals, seems to make much nearer approaches to the Understanding and Sagacity of Men of the lowest Form; than Those Men to some of the most capable and accomplished Persons. Now this mighty Difference between Men proceeds from inward and unseen Causes; from the Mind, which consists of such variety of Parts; and it is brought about by such intricate Springs and Principles of Motion, that the Contemplation of them would be infinite, and the Degrees depending upon them without Number.  
Now the Last part of our Undertaking for attaining to a right Knowledge of Man, must consist of the Distinctions and Differences observable in Him: And These are of several sorts, according to the different Parts of which Humane Nature is compounded, and the different Methods and Capacities in which Men may be considered, and compared with one another. At present we will instance in Five, which seem to be the Principal; and of so large Extent, that all the rest may be reduced to them. For, generally speaking, all that is in Man is either Body or Spirit, Natural or Acquired, Public or Private, Apparent or Secret; and accordingly this Fifth and Last Consideration shall branch itself into Five Particulars, which shall be so many Capital Distinctions between Man and Man.  
The First of these is Natural, Essential, and Universal; in which the whole Man, both Body and Mind, are concerned.  
The Second is principally Natural and Essential; but in some measure Artificial and acquired too; and this concerns the Strength and Capacity of the Mind.  
The Third is Accidental, and depends upon Men's Conditions and their Duties respectively; the Ground of all which is taken from the Circumstance of Superior or Inferior.  
The Fourth is likewise Accidental, and relates to Men's particular Professions, and different ways of Living.  
The Fifth and Last considers them with regard to the Advantages and Disadvantages, by which either Nature or Fortune hath distinguished them.   


CHAP. XLII. The First Difference whereby Men are distinguished, which is Natural, and Essential, and derived from the several Climates of the World.  
THE First, most remarkable, and universal Distinction between Some Men and Others, is That which regards the whole Person, the Mind and Body both, and all the Parts whereof Man consists. And This is derived from the different Situation of Countries, and Divisions of the World; In proportion to which there necessarily follows a Difference in the Aspects and Influences of the Heavens, the Distance of the Sun, the Temperament of the Air, and the Nature of the Soil: And from hence Men receive different Complexions, and Statures, and Countenances; nay, different Manners and Dispositions; and differnt Faculties of the Soul too. 
* Plaga Coeli non solum ad robur Corporum, sed & animorum faeit. Athenis tenue coelum, ex quo etiam acutiores Attici: crassum Thebis, ideo pingues Thebani & valentes.  The Climate does not only contribute very much to the Strength of the Body, but also to the Vigour of the Mind. At Athens the Air is thin and fine, from whence the Athenians are generally sharp, and of quick Parts: At Thebes it is thick and foggy, and this makes the Inhabitants and Natives of that Country, stupid and dull, gross and robust. This Consideration moved Plato to thank God, that he was a Native of Athens and not of Thebes. 

† 
Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse  
Jupiter auctiferà lustravit lampade terras.   Prolific Rays shed by the Partial Sun,  
Are not confined to Seeds and Plants alone;  
Souls too the differing Genial Influence know,  
And relish of the Soil in which they grow.  As the Nature of the Fruits, and of other Animals is very different, according to the Regions where they spring, and are bred; so Men likewise own their Temper to their Country; and upon this account bring into the World with them Dispositions Greater or Less, to War, Courage, Justice, Temperance, Docility, Religion, Chastity, Wit, Goodness, Obedience, Beauty, Health, and Strength. Upon this account Cyrus would not permit the Persians to quit their own Country, which was rough and rocky, for another that was champaign and smooth; and the Reason he gave was, That soft and pleasant Soils produce Effeminate People; and Fruitfulness in the Ground causes Barrenness in the Minds of the Inhabitants.  
According to this Groundwork we may erect general Schemes of the World, by parcelling out the Countries of it into Three large Divisions, and the Natives into as many Dispositions. The Three general Divisions to be made on this Occasion, shall comprehend the Two Extremities of North and South, and the Middle Region between them both. Each Part or Division shall consist of Sixty Degrees. The First shall be placed under the Line, and take in Thirty Degrees on each side of it; that is, All that part of the Globe contained within the Two Tropics, and some small matter more. In which part lie Those that are commonly called the Hot and Southern Countries, and That which Astronomers and Geographers distinguish by the Title of the Torrid Z●● Africa and Aethiopia in the middle between East and West; Arabia, Callet, the Moluques, and Java Eastward; Peru, and the great Seas Westward. The Second or Middle Division goes Thirty Degrees beyond the former on each side, reckoning from the Tropics towards the Poles; and These are the Moderate Climates, or Temperate Zones. This includes all Europe and the Mediterranean Sea, between East and West; the greater and lesser Asia Eastward; and China, Japan, and America to the Westward. The Third extends itself Thirty Degrees farther yet, which lie nearest to each Pole; These are the Frigid Zones, the Frozen Regions, and they that are called the Northern Nations, as Tartary, Moscovy, Estotilan, Magellan, and all that Tract which, because not hitherto fully discovered, goes by the name of Terra Incognita.  
According to this general Partition of the World, the Qualities and Dispositions of the People are proportionably different: And that, whether we regard the Body, the Mind, Religion, or Manners; as this little Table here subjoined will more distinctly represent the Matter.  
I. As to their Bodies. The Northerly People are Tall and Big, Phlegmatic, Sanguine, White or light Tawny, their Voices strong, their Skin soft and Hairy, great Eaters and Drinkers, strong and robust. The Temperate and middle Regions are in a Mean, and of a Nature between these two Extremes, Moderate and in a State of Neutrality, (as it were) in all these respects. Partaking in some measure of both Qualities, but most inclining to the Dispositions of that Division upon which they border nearest. Southern People are Low of Stature, Small built, inclining to Melancholy, of cold and dry Constitutions, Black and Tawny, disposed to Solitude, their Voices small and weak, their Skin hard, little Hair, frizzled and shaggy, abstemious and weak. II. Their Minds. Heavy, Dull, Stupid, Foolish, Credulous, easy to be imposed upon, inconstant in their Humours and Opinions. Ingenious, Apt, Wife, Prudent, Subtle, Positive in their Opinions, Obstinate, Unpersuadable. III. Their Religion Not much addicted to Religion, cold and negligent in Devotion. Given to Superstition, Studious, and Contemplative. iv Their Manners. Warlike, Valiant, Hardy, Laborious, Chaste, not apt to be Jealous, Cruel, Inhuman. Averse to War, Cowardly, Lascivious, Jealous, Cruel and Inhuman.  
It is no difficult Matter to evince the Truth of these Characters, and assign very probable Reasons, 
These Differences proved.  why the Persons here mentioned should thus differ from each other. As to those Differences, which relate to the Body; we have Evidence of Sense for them, and our Eyes supply the Place of a Thousand Arguments. If there be some excepted Cases from the general Rules, they may very easily be accounted for, (though indeed these Exceptions are but very few.) The mingling and promiscuous Marriages of several Nations; the Winds, the Waters, and particular Situation of the Places where they dwell, may each of them contribute to it, and all together may make a considerable Alteration. Thus a very high and mountainous Country may vary remarkably, from a flat under the same Latitude; nay, this different Site may cause some Variation in the very same Country or City. Plutarch observes, that the Humours of Those who were born and dwelled in the upper Town at Athens, were very distant from Those of the lower Town, and by the Seaside about the Piraeean Port. A high Mountain on the North-Side of a Valley, will render the Plain to the Southward of it, to all Intents and Purposes a Southern Climate; and by the same Reason a Mountain to the Southward, which intercepts the Sun, will give the Valley beyond it the Effects of a Northern Climate.  
As for those Differences, which relate to the Mind; 
Their Mind  We know very well, that Mechanical Improvements, and most Laborious and Handicraft Arts come out of the North, where the People are remarkable for indefatigable Industry, and Toil. But Learning and Speculative Sciences, move with the Sun, and come from the South to Us. Caesar and the Ancients give the Egyptians the Character of a most Ingenious, and exceeding Subtle People; and the Scripture takes Notice, as one Commendation and great Accomplishment of Moses, that he had been instructed, 
Acts seven. 26.  and was well skilled in all the Wisdom of the Egyptians. From thence first Philosophy set forward into Europe; for the Greeks were beholding to Egypt for the Fundamentals and Elements of Wisdom. Greatness and State seems to have begun There, by reason of the Vigour and Subtlety of their Parts. The Guards of Princes, even of Them whose Dwellings and Dominions are in the South, are usually composed of Northerly Men; as being look d upon to have more Strength of Body, and less of Mind; fit for Fight and Defence, but not qualified for subtle Plots and secret Designs, nor disposed to Treachery and Malice. What was said of Hannibal, is true of these Southern Nations, They are of a Disposition that will serve for Great Vices, and Great Virtues, and may be eminent in Either: That which is Chief Commendable in the Northern, is Good-Nature, and Plainness, and Undesigning Honesty. The intermediate Sciences, such as are mixed, partly Speculative, and partly Practical; Politics (for Instance) and Laws, and Eloquence, and the like, are owing to the Middle Regions between those Extremes, and most conspicuous and improved there. For it is observable, that the Greatest and most Flourishing Empires, and States, have been seated in this Part of the World.  
As to our Third particular: Most part of the Religions Practised in the World, 
Religion.  came from the South; and what Mankind generally observe at this Day, is either what begun there, or Additions and Improvements upon it. Agypt, and Arabia, and Chaldaea, have been their Teachers and Patterns; and Africa is observed to have more Superstition in it, than all the World besides. Witness the Frequency of their Vows, and the Incredible Magnisicence of their Temples. As for the Northern Nations, Caesar takes Notice, That they have but very little Regard to Religion, but employ and delight themselves chief in War and Hunting.  
For the Manners and Dispositions of Men in general; look upon the First in Regard to War, and it is most evident, that Numerous Armies, Military Arts and Discipline, Engines, and Instruments, and Inventions of this Kind, are Originaly derived from the North. The Nations which set out from thence, Scythians, and Goths, and Vandals, and Hunns, and Tartars, and Turks, and Germans; These have fought, and subdued all other Nations, and ravaged the whole World. The Devastations they made, and the Barbarities they exercised, gave Occasion to that Proverb, That all Evil came out of the North. Duels, and set Combats, are derived from Them. Solinus says, the Northern Nations Worship the Blade of a Sword, stuck down into the Earth. Other People have not been able to Conquer them; Not even the Romans, who vanquished the rest of the World, but were Themselves overcome and destroyed by Them. It is remarkable, that the South Wind makes them Weak and Faint, and that in Proportion as they advance nearer the South, they Degenerate and grow Feeble; and so just contrary, The Southern Nations, when they move Northward, improve their Constitutions, and feel themselves grow much more Hardy and Strong. Upon the Account of this Courage and Warlike Spirit it is, that the Northern People cannot endure to be Insulted and Tyrannised over; They are Enemies to Arbitrary Power, and Absolute Dominion; are great Lovers of Liberty; and submit most willingly where the Governments are Elective. As for Chastity and Jealousy; In the North One Man hath but One Wife, (as Tacitus observes) and he thinks One Wife sufficient too; They are by no Means inclined to Jealousy, (says Munster) as one may guests by Men and their Wives Bathing together in the Company of Strangers. Polygamy is practised all over the whole Southern Tract. All Africa, (says Solinus) is devoted to the Worship of Venus. Southern Men have a strange Propension to Jealousy, and even die with the Rage of it; and therefore they get Eunuches for their Security, and set Them as a Guard upon their Women. Thus the Grand Signior does in his Seraglio, where he keeps vast Numbers of Ladies, (like a Stable of Mares) to breed upon.  
In Cruelty both Extremes resemble one another; but though the Effect be the same, the Cause is not so; as will be explained presently, when we come to consider the Causes of these Differences. The most Barbarous Methods of Punishment, such as Breaking upon the Wheel, and Impaling Men alive, came from the North. The Merciless Cruelties of the Muscovites and Tartars, are abundantly Notorious; The Germans (Tacitus tells us) never punish Malefactors by Legal Process, but fall upon them, and cut them to Pieces like Enemies. The Southern Nations too flay their Criminals alive; and their Desire of Revenge is so Eager and Impatient, that sometimes they run Stark-Mad, if they cannot find Means to satisfy it. Between these Most Distant Regions, the Nations are full of Kindness, and Good-Nature. The Romans usually inflicted no greater Punishment, than that of Banishing their most grievous Offenders. The Greeks mingled a Stupifying Draught of Hemlock, and other Poisonous Drugs, yet so that it should be Sweet upon the Palate; and This they gave their condemned Persons to drink, and die with. And Cicero says, That Humanity, and Courtesy, seem to be the Portion and peculiar Qualities of the Lesser Asia, and to have been from thence diffused over the rest of the World.  
Now, the True Cause, from whence all these Differences, 
The Cause of these Differences.  both in the Persons and the Dispositions of Men, proceed; is no other than the inward Natural Heat, being distributed among the People of these several Climates, so very unequally as it is: For each Country differs from the other, according as these Proportions differ. The Northern Nations have it in a very great Degree, by Reason of the great Coldness of their Air, which keeps this Heat, and shuts it up close; as we find Cellars in Rocks and deep Wells, Hottest in Winter; and, to go no farther from Home, so are our own Breast and Stomach, because of the Strength and Abundance of inward Heat at that Time. Now, This must needs be much Weaker in Southern People, because the exceeding Vehemence of the Scorching Heat without, and the Force of the Sunbeams scatters, and draws it outward. As our Stomaches and Places under Ground be coolest in Summer, and we feel our inward Burn abated by Sweeting. From this Difference, I say, and unequal Degrees of Natural Heat, arise the several Differences already mentioned; not such only as the Body is concerned in, for These are Visible and Obvious; but Those that make a Change in the Minds of Men too: For the Southerly People, being Colder in their Constitutions, are from hence disposed to Melancholy; and this makes them Stayed and Solid, Constant, Contemplative, Ingenious, Wise, Religious, and Devout. For Wisdom and Docility is most eminently Visible in Beasts of a Cold Temperament; as Elephants particularly, which are more Melancholic than any other Animals, and are manifestly the most Apprehensive and apt of any, all which I impute to the Coldness of their Blood. From the same Superfluity and Predominance of Melancholy in their Temper, the Southern People seem to be more Lascivious, and Lustful than others, this being a sharp, and fretting Humour, and apt to provoke such Inclinations; as we see it in Hares particularly. From the same sharp, fretting Melancholy, they are Barbarous and Cruel; for That Whets the Passions, and urges them to Blood and Revenge. Now The Northern People, in whose Constitution Phlegm is most predominant, and who abound in Blood and Spirits; are just opposite to the Former, and have the direct contrary Qualities; excepting that they agree in that single Point of Cruelty. But This in these Parts of the World proceeds chief from a very different Reason; and that seems to be Want of Judgement; so that, like Beasts, They are Strong in their Passions, and Weak in those Faculties, that should control, and keep them in. The Countries of the Middle Division, abound in Blood and Choler, and so are delivered from the Ill Effects of both Extremes, Phlegm, and Melancholy; and accordingly These are Moderate in their Passions, Good-humoured, Cheerful, Nimble, and Apt, and Active.  
It were Possible to represent the different Temper and Spirit of these Three Sorts of People, after a yet more Nice and perfect Manner, by making the Application and Comparison to extend to all kind of Things whatsoever; A short Scheme whereof this little Table will present you with; and by That you will perceive, what are the particular Qualities, Influences, Improvements, and Actions of each of them. For according to what hath been already observed upon this Head, we must assign to the  Northern. Middle Climate. Southern. Qualities of the Soul. Common Sense. Discourse and Ratiocination. Intellect.  Force and Courage, like that of Bears and Beasts. The Reason and Justice of Men. The Subtlety of Foxes, and Religion of Divines. Planets. Mars. War. 
 Luna. Hunting. Jupiter. Emperors. 
 Mercury. Orators. Satur. Contemplation. 
 Venus. Love.  Arts and Manufactures. Prudence, and Knowledge of Good and Evil. Speculative Wisdow, and Knowledge of True and False. Parts and Offices in the Commonwealth Labourers and Artisans, and Soldiers. Magistrates, discreet and provident Persons. Prelates, Divines and Philosphers. Qualities of different Ages. Young Men, Awkward and Unapt. Grown Men, good Managers, and Men of Business. Old Men, Grave, Wise and Thoghtful. These are the peculiar Excellencies, and most remarkable Distinctions, which may be attributed to this general Division of North and South. The Nations that lie Westward, and the People that dwell upon the Mountains, approach, and have a great Affinity to the Northern Climates; because of the Cold, to which those Situations are more exposed; which is also the Case of Them who live at a great distance from the Sea. They are Warlike and Fierce, Lovers of Liberty, and have more Honesty and Simplicity in their Tempers. And so again, the Eastern Countries resemble the Southern, as do also Those that dwell in the Champaign and great Valleys, and the Borderers upon the Sea. They are more Tender and Effeminate, by reason of the Fruitfulness of their Soil; for Fertility inclines Men to Softness and Pleasure. And your Islanders are commonly Subtle, and Cunning, and Deceitful, by reason of that Commerce and Correspondence they hold with Men and Nations of different Tempers abroad.  
From this whole Discourse we may conclude in general, that the Privilege of the Northern Climates lies chief in the Qualifications of the Body; Strength, and a Robust Constitution is their peculiar Excellence and Portion. The Southern have the Advantage in the Mind; Subtlety, and Penetration, and Quickness of Parts, is Their Talon. The Middle Regions have somewhat of Both, and partake of all These Excellencies; but of Each in less Degrees and moderate Proportions. From hence likewise we may understand, that the Manners and Original Dispositions of Men, simply considered, are not Vices or Virtnes in their own Nature, but Necessary and Natural Effects. And the absolute renouncing or divesting ourselves of These; nay, the perfect Reformation of them, is something more than difficult; it is in some Cases out of our Power. But the sweetening, and moderating, and reducing these Natural Extremes to Temper, and a due Medium; the watching over them carefully, and restraining their Motions, This is properly our Duty, and the Business of Wisdom and Virtue.    


CHAP. XLIII. The Second Distinction, and nicer Difference, which regards the Souls of Men, or the Internal Qualifications and Capacities of their Minds.  
THis Second Distinction, which concerns the Minds of Men, 
Three Sorts and Degrees of Men in the World.  and their inward Accomplishments, is by no means so manifest as the former: It is not obvious to Sense at all, nor does it fall within the compass of every one's Notice and Observation. The Causes of it are likewise compounded; for it depends partly upon Nature, and partly upon Industry and Art; and so extends to our Acquired Excellencies, as well as to Those that are born and bred with us. According to this Distinction, there are (as was observed before) Three sorts of Men, which divide them into Three Classes or Degrees of Souls.  
In the First and lowest of these Ranks we may place those weak and mean Souls, which are almost of a Level with Body and Matter; of slender and narrow Capacities; almost perfectly passive, and such as Nature seems to have made on purpose to Endure and Obey; to live under Subjection and Management, and tamely to follow their Leaders; In a Word, such as are but just Men, and no more.  
In the Second and middle Row, are Those of a tolerable Judgement and Understanding, and such as make some Pretensions to Wit and Learning, Management and Address: These Men know Something, but they are not sufficiently acquainted with Themselves; They are content to take up with Opinions commonly received, and stick fast to their first Impressions, without troubling Themselves, or indeed being judicious enough, to inquire into the Truth, and Bottom of Things; nay, were they capable of finding their deep and most abstruse Causes, they think this an unlawful Curiosity, and so make the Submission of their Judgements a Principle of Duty and Conscience. They look no farther than that little Spot of Ground where they stand Themselves, and take it for granted, that Matters are, or aught to be, all the World over, exactly the same with what they see them at home; and all that differ from them in Customs or Opinion, they look upon with Pity or Disdain; and allow no better Names to, than Ignorant and Uncivilised, Wild and Barbarous. They live in perfect Slavery to local Laws, and the Vogue of that Village or City where they have dwelled ever since they were hatched; and this they do, not only in a quiet Compliance, and orderly Obedience to them, (which it is the Duty of every Man, even the ablest and most judicious, to do) but they conform their Sense, and their Soul to them; and are verily persuaded, that what is believed and practised in their own Town, is the infallible Standard of Truth; the Only, or the Best Rule of Virtue; and that all Men's Notions of Right and Wrong, aught to be measured by Theirs. These sorts of Men belong to the School and District of Aristotle; They are Positive and Peremptory, abounding in their own Sense, and impatient of Contradiction: They look more at Convenience than Truth; and consider what will make most for the Benefit of the World, and turn to best Account, rather than make it their Business to find Things as they really are, and recommend what is Best in itself. This Class consists of infinite Subdivisions, great Variety of Attainments and Degrees; the Uppermost and most capable among them are such as sit at Helm, and govern the World; Those that hold Empires and Kingdoms in their Hand, and either give Commands, or counsel those that do.  
In the Third and Highest Order, are the Men blest with a lively, clear, and penetrating Wit; a sound, solid, and stable Judgement; that do not content Themselves with bare Hearsay, nor set up their Rest in general and received Opinions; that suffer not their Minds to be prepossessed and won over by the public Vogue, nor are at all kept in Awe, or afraid to oppose and diffent from the common Cry, as being very well satisfied, how many Cheats there are abroad in the World; and that some Things, no better than Falsehood and Jest at the bottom, have been entertained, approved, extolled, nay even reverenced and adored. For such were the greatest part of the old Philosophy and Physic, such the Divinations, and Oracles, and all the Idolatry and Trumpery of the Pagan Worship; which prevailed, even in the most refined Countries, for many Generations together, and kept Mankind in slavery to most wicked and miserable Delusions. These Men therefore are for bringing every Thing to the Light, fathoming it to the Bottom, entering into mature and impartial Deliberation, without Passion or Prejudice; searching into its abstruseft Causes, its most secret Motives and Springs, and tracing them up to their first Head. They had much rather continue under the Uneasiness of Doubt and Dissatisfaction, and suspend an Error, and take up false Confidences, and strong Persuasions of Things, which they have no sufficient Ground to believe or affirm: For That is the effect of Laziness or Littleness of Soul; grudging the Pains, or wanting the Courage to examine fairly; of Easiness and Credulity, of an unsettled Judgement, or a rash and hasty Determination. These, alas! are but very Few; and may be reckoned Retainers to Socrates and Plato: They are grave and sober, modest and reserved; They have a greater respect to Truth, and the Reality of Things, than the Usefulness and Convenience of them; and had much rather inform Themselves and Others rightly, than entertain or propagate a Mistake, which might tend to their Service and Advantage. Now if These have good Moral Dispositions withal; if all the Accomplishments already mentioned, be crowned with Integrity, and Probity, and Virtuous Living, They are then Wise indeed, The very Persons whose Character we are now enquiring after, and such as this whole Treatise is intended to make Men. But we must not expect the World should pay them all that Deference which is their due. For they disoblige Mankind by forsaking the common Road, diffenting from their received Notions and Rules; making new and troublesome Discoveries, and not swallowing all that is brought to them without Chewing. This makes the Vulgar look upon them with a very jealous Eye, as dangerous Persons; and to distinguish them by the Titles of Fanciful Men, Virtuosos, and Philosophers, in a particular and Abusive Sense of the Word.  
Now the First of these Classes is abundantly more numerous than the Second; and so likewise the Second proportionably than the Third. Those of the First, and those of the Last Order, the lowest and the sublimest Souls, never trouble the World at all, nor make any Clutter or Disturbance. The One are unqualifyed and unable, they are beneath, and want Strength to do it: The Other are as much above it, too wise, and too great, to descend to any Troubles of that kind. They have a sufficiency and firmness in their own Mind, and are not concerned for Things not worth their Care. Those of the Middle Rank make all the Bustle and Noise; The Disputes, and Distractions, and Public Commotions are all owing to Them. Their Condition and Temper disposes them to it, which is positive and conceited, full of Vanity and Presumption; always in action, and never suffering any thing else to be at rest. Those of the Lowest Degree, are the very Dregs and Settling of Mankind, the Sink and Refuse of the World; which, like the Lees, falls to the Bottom of its own accord; and may be compared to the Element of Earth, which hath nothing to do, but to receive all that comes, and bear all that is cast upon it from Above. The Second Stage is like the Region of the Air, where all those Meteors are formed, which crack about our Ears, and produce the Changes of Seasons and Wether, and all the Alterations that affect this lower World; and when they have terrified us with dreadful Noises and Expectations, at last dissolve, and fall down upon the Earth. Those of the Highest Quality are like the Firmament, those Aethereal and Higher Regions, not far distant from Heaven itself, which are always clear and serene, peaceable and pure.  
This Difference between Some Men and Others, is in some degree owing to Nature, and the Original Disposition; the first Composition and Temperament of the Brain; which makes a mighty difference according to the predominance of Moist and Hot, and the several Proportions, in which each of these Qualities are mixed: For the Minds of Men, and their Understandings, will vary wonderfully, and they will be Judicious, Smart, Valiant; or Weak, Dull, and Cowards, according to the laying of these Foundations at first. But then the Building upon that Groundwork is the Business of Instruction and Discipline; Experience, and getting acquainted with the World. So that these Distinctions are partly Artificial and Acquired too, and a Man's own Industry and Observation is of great Use, to disabuse his Mind, and bring it to a Manly Sense of Things. I add upon this Occasion, that we shall deceive ourselves extremely, if we suppose any of these Classes consigned to particular Professions or Denominations of Men; for there are some of all sorts in all Circumstances and Characters; High and Low, Learned and Ignorant, Good and Bad; some of the Meanest Souls in the Gown, and some of the last and most exalted Spirits in High Shoes; some of slender Capacities, but entirely Virtuous; and some of wonderful Natural Endowments, who are Monsters of Vice. So that indeed, as the Differences themselves admit of great Variety, That of the several Degrees under each Division, and the Dispositions of the Persons so distinguished, is infinite and unconceivable.  
There is also another Distinction sometimes made between Men, 
Another Distinction  with regard to the Abilities and Internal Accomplishments of the Mind: For some are able to make their own Way, beat out a Passage where there was no Path, no Light before; and are so become their own Masters in Virtue and Wisdom. These are happy Men indeed; Men of the largest Size; and there are but few to whom Nature hath been so partially bountiful. Others have need of Assistance; and of These again there are Two sorts. Some only want Information; if you do but light them, and show them, it is sufficient; They will follow readily of themselves. But Others require more help; a Torch and a Guide is not enough for Them; They have need to be supported, and taken by the Hand: A kind Friend to draw and pull them forward, and a Spur sometimes, to quicken them in their Pace. As for Those, whom Nature hath furnished so ill, that they are incapable of Instruction and Amendment, (which is the Case of some in the Lowest Class;) or Them who have corrupted Nature, and are grown restiff and intractable; (which is but too visible in many of the Second Class,) I mention them not; for They (like Beasts that will neither lead nor drive) can only be left to their own Ruin; desperate, foolhardy Wretches, of whom no Account at all is to be made, nor any Good to be expected.    


CHAP. XLIV. The Third Distinction and Difference between Men, which is Accidental, and relates to their Degrees, Conditions, Offices, and Relations.  
THis Accidental Distinction, which regards the State of Life wherein Men are placed, the Offices they execute, and the Relations they mutually bear to one another, is grounded upon the Two great Principles, and Fundamental Supports of all Humane Society, which are, Commanding and Obeying, Power and Subjection, a Superior and an Inferior Station. 
* Imperio & Obsequio emnia constant.  For were it not for Government and Obedience, all this goodly Fabric would fall to pieces. This Distinction I shall first endeavour to represent to you in the gross, by the following Table. 

The First and general Division  
All Power and Subjection is either 

1 Private, which extends to 

1. Families and Household Government, and here the mutual Relations are contracted Four Ways; and the Authority is of Four Sorts. 

1. Conjugal, between the Husband and Wife; This Relation is the Source and Root of all Humane Society.  
2. Paternal, between Parents and Children; This is truly and properly Natural.  
3. Herile, and that of two Sorts. 

1. Of Lords and their Slaves.  
2. Of Masters over their Servants.    
4. That of Patrons and their Dependants, which is now out of Date, and searce any where in use.    
2. Corporations and Colleges and Civil Communities, such as are called the Lesser Communities, which relates to the several Members of that particular Body.    
2. Public, and this again is either 

1. Supreme, which is of Three Sorts, according to the Three known Constitutions. 

1. Monarchy, or a Government vested in One single Person.  
2. Aristocracy, or that which is administered by a few of the best Quality.  
3. Democracy, where the whole Body of the● couple have some Share in it.    
2. Subordinate, which lieshetweens Persons that are both Suporiours and Inferiors, when considered in Different Respects, and as Places and Persons may alter the Case; and this is a Power of 

1. Particular Lords in their ●●●eral Jurisdictions, and admitting of many Degrees.  
2. O●●cers and Magistrates deputed by the Supreme Power, of which there is likewise great Variety.          
This Public Power, whether the Supreme, or the Subordinate, 
Supreme Power Subdivided.  admits of several Subdivisions, very necessary to be attended to. The Supreme, which as I observed, is of Three Sorts, according to the different Constitutions, and Methods of Government, executes and exerts itself in as many different ways, and each of These according to the different Temper and Management, hath been distinguished by the Titles of Kingly, Arbitrary, and Tyrannical. Kingly is when the Supreme Power (be it lodged in one, or in more Hands) is itself strictly Obedient to the Laws of Nature, and preserves and protects its Subjects, in their Natural Liberties, and Civil Rights. All Power, in general, belongs to Kings, particular Properties to private Men. The King is Universal Lord, and hath a Right Paramoum; Others have the Right of Lordship and Possession. Arbitrary Government is, when the Sovereign is Lord of men's Persons and Estates by Right of Conquest; and the Subjects are Governed without any Regard to Claims, or Laws, or Rights, but in an absolate Way, as Lords use their Slaves. This is rather Bondage and Captivity; Subjection is too gentle a Name for it; where Lives are cut off, and Estates seized, and racked and taken away, at Pleasure. Tyrannical Government is where the Sovereign despises and disregards all the Laws of Nature, and Original Rights of Mankind; and so does not only make use of, but abuses the Persons and Possessions of the Subjects; and this differs from the former Arbitrary way, much after the same manner, that a Robber differs from a Fair Enemy in the Field.  
Now, of these Three Different Constitutions, the Monarchical; but of the Three Tempers or Ways of Governing, the Arbitrary, hath been observed to be the most Ancient, and best Calenlated of any, for Grandeur, Continuance and Splendour. Thus it was with the Assyrian, Persian, Egyptian, and at present that of Aethiopia, (the most Ancient of any) Moscovy, Tartary, Turkey, and Pern. But the Best and most Natural Estate is, that manner of Government which we call Kingly, according to our late Distinction of it. The Famous Aristocracies were That of the Locademonians heretofore, and That of the Venetians and States of Holland at this Day. The Democracies were Rome, Athens, Carthage; but the Government of all These, as to its Temper and Method of Administration, was what we call Kingly.  
The Public Power, which is Subaltern, 
Of particular Lards.  or Subordinate, is lodged in particular Lords, and These are of several Sorts and Degrees, according to their respective Tenors and Capacities. But the most Considerable are Five. 

1. Lord's Tributary, who only own Tribute, and nothing else.  
2. Feudatary Lords, who hold their Lands in Fee.  
3. Simple Vaslals, who own Fealty and Homage for their Fee: These Three may be Sovereign Themselves too.  
4. Liege Vassals, that besides Fealty and Homage, own Personal Suit and Service, and so cannot be truly Sovereign.  
5. Natural Subjects, whether Vassals in Fee or in Cens, or in any other Tenure and Capacity; These own Subjection and Obedience, and cannot be exempted from the Power of their Sovereign Lord, and yet are Lords Themselves.    
The Public Subordinate Power, which consists, in Offices under, and Proper Officers employed by, 
Officers.  the Supreme Power, is of several Sorts; but may be reduced to Five Degrees, with regard to the Distinctions of Honour, and Power, which belong to, or may direct us in the Consideration of them. 

1. The First and lowest Sort is that of Public Executioners; such as give the last Struck, and finish upon Criminals what the Courts of Justice have awarded and begun. These, however necessary, have yet somewhat so shocking in their Employment, that it hath been generally looked upon as Odious and Scandalous, and the Persons in that Office, not suffered in many Places to dwell within the City.  
2. The Second are Men, that are neither Honourable nor Dishonourable upon the Account of their Post, such as Sergeants, Trumpeters, and the like.  
3. The Third Sort have Honour and Respect indeed by Virtue of their Office, but no Authority by way of Cognisance, or Power; such are Notaries, Receivers, Secretaries, and the like.  
4. The Fourth have not an empty Honour only, but Power, and Cognisance, and yet not any Jurisdiction, properly so called; such are The King's Counsel, for Example; who may examine Publicly, but can determine, or give final Issue to nothing.  
5. The Last have Jurisdiction, properly so called, and by Virtue of This, they have all the Rest. And These only, in Strictness of Speech, are Magistrates; which may be dislinguished several Ways, particularly into these live Sorts, each of which is Twofold. 

1. Mayors, Senators, Judges. Colonels, etc. Generals, Judges.  
2. In Politics or Civil Government. In Military Matters.  
3. In Cuestions and Cases of Property and Right. In Criminal Cases, or Trials of Offenders.  
4. Offices Titular, fixed and Hereditary. Offices in Particular Commission.  
5. Officers Perpetual, of which Nature it is sit, that there should be fewest, and Those only of the least Consequence.  
Officers Temporal, or Removable, such as all of the Highest Importance ought to be.      

Of the Conditions and Degrees of Men particularly, according to the foregoing Table.  
ADVERTISEMENT.  
IT is Necessary to observe upon this Occasion, that the several Divisions of this Table, and the Distinction of those Powers, and their respective Dependencies, upon, and under them, (beginning at Those, which are Private and Domestic) are mentioned here with no other Design, than to give a distinct View of the several States and Conditions of Men; It being the Intention of this Present Book, only to Know Man in all his Capacities. And therefore a great Part of what might be expected upon the Head of Power and Subjection, the Reader must be content to wait for, till we come to the Third and last Part of this Treatise: Where, under the Head of Justice, these several Chapters and Capacities will come under our Consideration again; and the several Duties and Virtues required upon their Account will be specisied and explained. But, before we enter upon any of them in particular, it may not be amiss to premise somewhat briefly, concerning Command and Obedience in general. These being the Reciprocal Exercises of the Relations here mentioned. The Two Foundations and principal Causes of all that Variety of Circumstances, in which Mankind have been already described.    

CHAP. XLV. Of Command and Obedience.  
THese, as I said, are the Groundwork, upon which all Humane Society is built; And the many different Conditions, Professions, and Relations, that go to making it up, do all arise from, and depend upon Them. These Two are Relative Terms; they mutually Regard, Produce, Preserve and Support each other; and are equally necessary in all Companies and Communities of Men; but are notwithslanding liable to Envy and Opposition, Misrepresentation and Complaint; All which are the Natural and Constant Effects, even of That, without which we are not able to Subsist. The discontented Populace would reduce their Sovereign to the Condition of a Car-Man; The Ambition of Monarches would represent him greater than a God. In Command is employed Dignity, Dissiculty (These Two commonly go together) Goodness, Ability, and all the Characters and Qualities of Grandeur.  
The Command itself, that is, The Sufficiency, the Courage, the Authority, and other Qualifications of it, are derived from above, and the Gift of God. 
* Imperium non ●i●i divino fato datur. Rom. xiii. 1.  Empire and Dominion are bestowed by the Divine Appointment, and There is no Power but of God (says the Apostle to the same Purpose.) From whence it was that Plato said, God did not place some Men over others, that is, not Mere Men, and such as were of the Common Sort and Vulgar Qualisications; but the Persons whom he set apart, and exalted for Government, were such as exceeded others; were more finished, eminent for some singular Virtue, and distinguishing Gift of Heaven; in short, were somewhat more than Men, and such as former Ages gave the Title of Heroes to.  
Obedience is a Matter of Benesit and Advantage; of Ease and Necessity; The Obeying well, is of the Two, more conducive to the Public Peace, and Safety, than the Commanding wisely; and the Consequences of withstanding and refusing the Commands of our Superiors, or the complying with them Imperfectly and Negligently, are much more Dangerous and Destructive, than Ill and Improper Commands Themselves are, or want of Skill to Govern. Just as in the Case of a Married Life, the Husband and Wife are equally obliged to Constancy of Affection and Fidelity to the Bed; and the Words in which they Solemnly engage for This, are the very Same for both Parties; the same Ceremonies and Formalities to signify and confirm it; but yet the Consequences are by no means equal, but the Mischiefs of Disloyalty are incomparably More, and Greater in an Adulterous Wife, than an Adulterous Husband: So likewise Commanding and Obeying are equally Duties, and necessary in all manner of Societies which unite Men to one another; but yet the Disobedience of the Subject draws much greater Inconveniences after it, than the unskilfulness or the real Faults of the Governor. Several States and Kingdoms have held out a long Course, and been reasonably Prosperous and Flourishing, under, not only Ignorant, but very Wicked Princes and Magistrates, by the mere Force of the Unity, and Compliance, and ready Obedience of the Subjects. Which agrees well with the Answer made by a Wise Man to that Question, How it came to pass, that the Republic of Sparta was so remarkably Flourishing? and Whether it proceeded from the Wisdom and good Conduct of their Governors? Nay, (said he) I impute it not to their Princes Commanding well, but to the Subjects Obeying well. But when the People break their Yoke, or throw it off, and refuse Obedience, there is no Remedy but such a State must be ruined, and fall to the Ground.   

CHAP. XLVI. Of Marriage.  
NOtwithslanding the State of Marriage be antecedent to any other, of the greatest Antiquity, and the highest Importance; The very Foundation and Fountain of all Humane Society, (for Families first, and then Commonwealths spring out of it; according to that Observation of Cicero, The First Union and nearest Relation is between Man and Wife; This is the Beginning of Cities, the Nursery and first Plantation of all Public Communities) yet it hath had the Ill-Fortune to be disesteemed and run down by several Persons of considerable Wit and Character, who have traduced it, as a Condition beneath Men of Understanding, and drawn up several formal Objections against it, in particular These that follow. 
* Prima Societas in Conjugio est, quod principium Urbis, seminarium Reipublicae. Cic. de Offic. Lib. 1.   
First of all, They tell you, the Covenants and Obligations they enter into by it, 
Objections against Marriage.  are unreasonable and unjust; we may call it a Band of Union; but it is no better than the Chains and Fetters of a Captive. For What Consinement can be more insupportable, than That by which a Man stakes himself down; and becomes a Slave as long as he lives, to Care and Trouble, and the Humours of another Person? For this is the Consequence, if the Couple are unsuccessful, and unsuitable in their Tempers; That there is no Remedy, but a Man must stand by his Bargain, be it never so bad, and continue wretched without any other possible Cure but Death. Now what can be more contrary to Equity and Justice, than that the Folly of one half Hour should poison the whole Term of all his Years to come? That a Mistake in one's Choice, or perhaps a Trick, by which he was Trepanned into this Condition, but, to be sure, an act of Obedience many times to the Commands of a Parent, or Compliance with the Advice of a Friend; a submitting one's Own Judgement and Inclination to the Pleasure and Disposal of Others: What Reason (say They) is there that any of these Things should engage a Man to perpetual Misery and Torment? Were not the other Noose about the Neck the wiser Choice of the Two? and to end one's Days and Troubles immediately by leaping headlong from some Rock into the Sea, than thus to launch out into an Eternity of Pains; to have a Hell upon Earth; and always live and lie by a Storm of Jealousy and Ill-nature, of Rage and Madness, of Obstinacy, and Affectation, and intractable Perverseness, and other vile Qualities in which the Sex abounds? Hence it was the Saying of one Author, That whoever first invented the Marriage-Knot, had contrived a very fair and colourable, but withal, a most effectual Expedient for taking a severe Revenge upon Mankind: A Snare or Net to catch Fools and Brutes in, and then put them to a long and lingering Death. And of another, That for a Wise Man to marry a Fool, or a Woman of Sense a Coxcomb, was like tying the Living to the Dead; that so by the Extremity of Cold from the Carcase, the Body might i'll and languish, till at last it expire; which is of all Capital Punishments the most barbarous, that ever Tyrants have been able to invent.  
The Second Accusation imports, That Marriage corrupts and adulterates Generous and Great Minds, by softening and abating, nay utterly enfeebling and dissolving their Life and Vigour, by the little Dalliances, and Flatter, and Wheedles of a Person, of whom one is fond; by Tenderness for one's Children, Care and Management of Domestic Affairs, and Solicitude to provide for, and raise one's Family in the World. What lamentable Instances of this Effeminacy are Samson, and Solomon, and Mark Anthony? whose Falls stand in Story, like so many noble Ruins, to put us in mind of that Enemy, with some Indignation, that undermined and demolished what Nature had made so strong. If then there must be Marrying, it is fit (say they) that This should be left to Fellows that have more Body than Soul; let Them go on securely, being so well qualisyed, and having so little to hazard; and the Cares and Burden of the World are indeed properest for Them; for such mean and low Considerations are Employments just of a Size with Their Capacities. But as for Those, whom Nature hath been so liberal to in another kind, and given them good Sense, and noble Souls, capable of greater and better Things, Is it not pity to shackle and bind Them down to the World and the Flesh, as you do Beasts to the Manger? Nay, even among Beasts, some Distinctions are made too; for Those among them that are most esteemed for Service and Courage, (as among Dogs and Horses particularly) are kept up at a distance, and forbidden all Approaches of the other Sex; Others of less Value serving to breed upon very well. Accordingly among Mankind, Those that are Devoted to the most Venerable and Holy Professions, the Service of the Altar, and a Recluse Life, both Men and Women; such whose Stations oblige them to be the most excellent part of the World, the Flower and Ornament of Christian Religion, Clergy and monastics are forbidden by the Church of Rome ever to Marry at all. And the Reason most certainly is This, that Marriage obstructs Wisdom and Virtue, calls off the Mind, and gives it too strong and too frequent a Diversion, eclipse its Wings, and checks its noblest Flights. For the Contemplation of High, and Heavenly, and Divine Objects, is by no means consistent with the Clutter, and Hurry, and sordid Cares of Family-concerns: Upon which Account it is that the Apostle, who commands Continency even in Marriage, hath preferred absolute Celibacy before it. Marriage perhaps may have the Advantage in Point of Prosit and Convenience, but the Honour and the Virtue (they tell you) is confessedly on the other side.  
Besides; It confounds Men's Measures, and defeats noble and pious Intentions and Undertake. St. Augustin gives an Account to this purpose, That He and some other Friends of his, some whereof were married Men, having form a Design of retireing from the Town, and all Conversation with the World, into some Solitude, that so they might have nothing to employ their Thought but the study of Wisdom and Virtue; the 〈…〉 Scheme was immediately interrupted, and 〈…〉'd, by the Interposition of their Wives. And another Wise Man hath given us his Opinion, That if Men could prevail with Themselves to give over all Conversation with Women, Angels would certainly visit and keep them Company.  
Once more; Marriage is a great Hindrance to Men's Improvement; particularly it keeps them at home, and cuts them off from the Opportunities of Travelling, and conversing with Foreign Countries: Which is really a great Accomplishment, and a mighty Convenience, to learn Wisdom one's self, and to teach it to others, and to communicate what we have seen and known, to those who want the same Opportunities. In short; Marriage does not only cramp up, and depress great Parts, and great Souls, but it deprives the World of many noble Designs, Works of Munisicence, and Charity, and Public Good; it renders a Man incapable of serving his Country, and attempting such Things, as He can give no entertainment to the Thoughts of, in the Embraces of a tender Wife, and his Little ones round about him. For These need and require the Care and Preservation of Himself; and serve for an Excuse, at least they cool his Courage, to Actions that are Brave, if at the same time they seem Desperate, or are manifestly Dangerous. And is it not a noble Sight now, to see a Man that is sit to be at the Helm, trissing away his Time at home, playing and telling Stories with his Wife and Children in the Chimney-Corner? Is it not Ten Thousand Pities, that One who is capable of Governing and Directing a World, should be entirely buried in Secrecy, lost to the Public, and taken up with the Concerns of a single Family? Upon this Consideration it was, that a Great Man, when his Friends moved a Match to him, made answer, That he was born to Command Men, and not one pretty little Toy of a Woman; to Advise and give Rules to Kings and Frinces, and not to Boys and Girls.  
To that part of these Objections, which carry any serious Argument, 
Answer to them.  (for a great deal of them is Raillery only) we may answer as follows; That Humane Nature must be considered, as it really is; A State not capable of Absolute Perfection; nor was such a Life here ever intended for us, as we should have nothing in it to be found fault with, nothing that should cross, or give us cause to wish it otherwise. Our very Remedies must make us a little sick, even when they are promoting our Health and Recovery; and every Convenience carries its Abatement, and is clogged and encumbered with some Inconvenience inseparable from it. These are Evils, allow it, but they are Necessary Evils. And if the Case be not well in all Points, yet this is the best of it; for there is no other way possible to be devised for the preserving and propagating Mankind, but what would make the Matter infinitely worse, and be liable to More and Greater Evils. Some indeed, (as Plato in particular) would fain have rooted out these Thorns, and refin'd upon the Point, by inventing other Methods for the Continuance of the Species; but after all their Hammering and Polishing, Those Conceits at last proved mere Castles in the Air; Things perfectly impracticable, and such as if once received could never have lasted; and besides, it appeared evidently, that tho' they had been practised and approved, yet even These were loaded too with a great many Inconveniences, and sore Difficulties. The Truth is, Men create their Own Uneasiness, and make all the Hardship to Themselves; Their Vices and Intemperances', the Violence and the Contrariety of their Passions, are their Tormentors; and then they blame the State in which they feel and suffer those Torments. But That is clear, and free from Gild, and so is every Thing but Man himself, who turns every Thing against Himself, and knows not how to use any Condition as he ought, and to the best Advantage. But Those that are Philosophers indeed, will go a great deal farther; They will tell you, These very Difficulties recommend Marriage the more, as rendering it a School of Virtue, an Apprenticeship to learn it, a daily and Domestic Exercise to perfect and render it familiar to us. And Socrates, that great Oracle of Wisdom, when People reproached him with the peevish and imperious Humour of his Wife, declared that it was an Advantage to him; for by that means he learned at home to behave himself with Constancy and Patience in all Accidents and Companies abroad; and to make all the Uneasinesses of Fortune go down very glibly. But This, tho' it want not a great deal of good Sense at the Bottom, and may be very useful to Men of good Dispositions, and Capacity enough to serve themselves of it, is yet such an Argument as I do not expect many Converts from. Admitting then, that They who continue single do best consult their Own private Ease and Satisfaction: Admit it better and more prudent thus to reserve one's self for Piety and Devotion, and eminent Degrees of Virtue, by preventing all those Avocations and Interruptions, which the Cares of a Married Life unavoidably expose us to. (And it is in this Sense, and for these Purposes only, that St. Paul prefers a State of Celibacy, which those that make use of, and pretend to be directed by his Authority, would do well to consider) Yet after all, with what Face can any Christian speak in disparagement of Marriage, who remembers at all, what the Faith he makes profession of, hath taught him to believe in Honour of it? For, when all is done, these are unanswerable, and they ought to be esteemed very Sacred Arguments, such as should command our highest Veneration and Respect, That it is of God's own Institution, That it was his first Ordinance, That he appointed it in Paradise, in a State of Innocence and Perfection, when Humane Nature was in all its Glory. These are Four weighty Considerations, and aught to recommend, at least to deliver it from diminishing Reflections, when they are not capable of a sober Reply. After this we find, that the Son of God himself was pleased to Honour and Approve it with his Presence, to work his first Miracle in favour of it, and the Persons engaged in it; nay, that he hath condescended to make use of This, as a Figure of that most Sacred and Inviolable Union betwixt Him and his Church; and upon that Account, 
Ephes. v.  given it the Privilege of being styled a Mystery, a Great and Divine Mystery.  
It must be acknowledged indeed, that Marriage is by no means an Indifferent Thing: 
It is a Great God, or a Great Evil  It admits of no Middle State, but is apt to run into Extremes, and is generally the greatest Happiness, or the greatest Calamity of Humane Life; a State of much Tranquillity, or of insupportable Trouble; a Paradise or a Hell. If well and wisely undertaken, it is full of Sweetness and Pleasure; if ill and unsuccessfully, it is a grievous Burden, a bitter, and fatal, and most painful Yoke. For this Covenant and Coming together, does above any other Instance make good the Truth of that Proverb, That 
* Homo Homini aut Deus, aut Lupus.  Men are either Gods, or Brutes to one another.  
Marriage is a Work composed of a great many Parts, 
When Good, it is exceedingly so.  and a great many Qualities must meet together, to render it Beautiful and Uniform. Abundance of Considerations are necessary in order to it, more than respect merely the Persons of those to be concerned in it. For tho' it be commonly said, Men Mary for Themselves alone, yet there ought to be great regard had to Posterity; the Family we go into, the Alliances we make, the Circumstances and Condition of the People, are of great weight. And These and other Respects must be carefully attended to: But above all, the Temper and the Virtues, which ought to be the principal Objects and Motives of our Affection. The want of proceeding in this manner, is the very Reason why we see so few happy Matches. And the extreme Scarcity of such, is a sign that Marriage is highly valuable: For it is a Fate common to all great Posts, that they are difficult, and very seldom discharged as they ought to be. Kingly Power and Government is beset with Cares and Difficulties, and very few that aspire to it, are strictly Virtuous and Successful in the Administration. But the true Ground of Failing so frequently in this Point, is to be fetched from the Licentiousness and Debauchery, the Unruly Passions and Exorbitant Humours of Mankind, and not from any thing in the State and Institution itself. From hence it is, that we sinned experimentally, Such as are of good, and quiet, and virtuous Dispositions, plain and mean Persons taste more of the Comforts, and enjoy themselves more in it, than others of higher Quality and Attainments. Sensual Desires, and the Delights of the World have taken less hold of such; they are less Nice and Curious, and have not so much leisure to tease and torment Themselves. Men that are debauched, and love to live at large, corrupt in their Manners, troublesome in their Conversation, whimsical and particular in their Humours, are not cut out for this Condition of Life, nor can ever expect to be tolerably Easy under it.  
Marriage is a Wise and Prudent Bargain, a Holy and Inviolable League, an Honourable Agreement. 
A general Description of it.  If this Knot be well tied, there is not in the whole World any thing more beautiful, more lovely, more desirable: It is a sweet and noble Society, full of Constancy and mutual Trust; full of infinite good Offices and reciprocal Obligations; most excellent in their own Nature, most useful to the Parties Themselves, and of general Service and Benefit to Mankind. This is a Conversation, Amorous not of Love and Sensual Delight, but of chaste Affection and entire Friendship. For Love in these Two Senses is a very different Thing, and the One as distant from the Other, as the feverish and diseased Heat of a sick Man is from the natural Warmth of a good Temper and healthful Constitution. Marriage challenges to itself Affection and Advantage, Justice and Honour, Constancy and Pleasure. Call its Fruitions slat and insipid if you please, but yet they are solid and substantial, agreeable and universal: They must needs be so indeed, because they are Lawful and Innocent; free from the Censure of Others, and the Reproaches of one's Own Mind. What the World calls Love, aims at nothing but Delight; it hath perhaps somewhat of Sprightliness, and is of a quicker and more poignant Relish; but this cannot hold long; and we plainly see it cannot, by so few Matches succeeding well, where Beauty and Amorous Desires were at the bottom of them: There must be something more solid to make us happy. A Building that is to stand for our whole Lives, aught to be set upon sirmer Foundations; and these Engagements are serious Matters, such as deserve, and it is Pity but they should have our utmost Discretion employed upon them. That Hot Love bubbles and boils in our Breasts for a While, but it is worth Nothing, and cannot continue; and therefore it very often happens, that these Affairs are very fortunately managed by a Third Hand.  
This Description is only Summary and in general Terms. 
Another more particular one.  But, that the Case may be more perfectly and particularly understood, it is sit we take Notice, that there are Two Things Essential and absolutely Necessary to this State of Life, which, however contrary and inconsistent they may at First Sight appear, are yet in reality no such Matter. These are Equality, and Inequality; the Former concerns them as Friends, and Companions, and upon the Level; the Other, as a Superior and an Inferior. The Equality consists in that Entire Freedom, and unreserved Communication, whereby they ought to have all Things in Common; their Souls, Inclinations, Wills, Bodies, Goods, are mutually from thenceforward made over; and neither of them hath any longer a peculiar and distinct Propriety exclusive of the other. This in some Places is carried a great deal farther, and extends to Life and Death too; insomuch, that assoon as the Husband is dead, the Wife is obliged to follow him without delay. There are some Countries, where the Public and National Laws require them to do so; and they are oftentimes so Zealous in their Obedience, that where Polygamy is indulged, if a Man leave several Wives behind him, they Try for it Publicly, and enter up their Claims, which of them shall obtain the Honour and Privilege of sleeping with their Spouse (that is the Expression they soften it by) and upon this Occasion, each urges in her own behalf, that she was the best belov'd Wife, or had the last Kiss of him, or brought him Children, or the like, so to gain the Preference to themselves. 
Th' Ambitious Rivals eagerly pursue  
Death, as their Crown to Love and Virtue due;  
Prefer their Claims, and glory in Success,  
Their Lords first Nuptials are courted less:  
Approach his Pile with Pomp, in Triumph burn,  
And mingle Ashes in one Common Urn.   
In other Places, where no Laws enjoined any such Thing, it hath been resolved and practised, by mutual Stipulation and voluntary Agreement, made privately between the Parties Themselves, which was the Case of Mark Antony and Cleopatra. But omitting This, which in truth is a Wicked, Barbarous and Unreasonable Custom, The Equality, which is, and aught to be, between Man and Wife, extends itself to the Administration of Affairs, and Inspection over the Family in common; from whence the Wife hath very justly the Title of Lady or Mistress of the House, and Servants; as well as the Husband that of Master and Lord over them. And this joint Authority of Theirs over their own private Family is a Picture in Little of that Form of Public Government, which is termed an Aristocracy.  
That Distinction of Superior and Inferior, which makes the Inequality, consists in This. 
Inequality.  That the Husband hath a Power and Authority over his Wife, and the Wife is placed in Subjection to her Husband. The Laws and Governments of all Nations throughout the World agree in this Preeminence; 
Et certamen habent lethi, quae viva sequatur  
Conjugium, pudor est non licuisse mori:  
Ardent Victrices, & flammae pectora praebent,  
Imponuntque suis Ora perusta viris.  but the Nature and the Degrees of it are not every where the same: For These differ in Proportion, as the Laws and Customs of the Place differ. Thus far the Consent is Universal; That the Woman, how Noble soever her Birth and Family, how great soever her Fortunes, or any other personal Advantages, is not upon any Consideration exempted from Subjection to her Husband. This Superiority and Inferiority may well be general, and be the Opinion of All, when it is so plainly the Condition of All. For in truth it is the Work of Nature, and founded upon that Strength, and Sufficiency, and Majesty of the One Sex, and the Weakness, and Softness, and Incapacities of the Other, which prove it not equally qualified, nor ever designed for Government. But there are many other Arguments besides, which Divines fetch from Scripture upon this Occasion, and prove the Point indeed substantially by Them. For Revelation here hath backed and enforced the Dictates of Reason, by telling us expressly, that Man was made first; that he was made by God alone, and entirely by Him, without any Creature of a like Form contributing any thing towards his Being. That he was Created on purpose for the Pleasure and Glory of God, his Head; That he was made after the Divine Image and Likeness; a Copy of the Great Original above, and Perfect in his Kind: For Nature always gins with something in its just Perfection: Whereas Woman was created in the Second Place; and not so properly Created as Form; made after Man; taken out of his Substance; 
* See 1 Corinth. xi. 7.8. The Man is the Image, and Similitude of God, but the Woman is the Similitude of the Man. So 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 aught to be rendered in the Sense of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 similis sum, not Glory, as we read it, which is foreign to the rest of the Words, and the whole Scope of that Argument.  Fashioned according to that Pattern, and so His Image, and only the Copy of a Copy; made Occasionally, and for particular Uses, to be a Help, and a Second to the Man; who is himself the Principal and Head, and therefore She is upon all these Accounts Imperfect. Thus we may argue from the Order of Nature; But the thing is confirmed yet more by the Relation given us of the Corruption and Fall of Man. For the Woman was first in the Transgression; and sinned of her own Head; Man came in afterwards, and by her Instigation. The Woman therefore, who was last in Good, in order of Nature, and Occasional only; but foremost in Evil, and the occasion of That to Man, is most justly put in Subjection to Him, who was before Her in the Good, and after Her in the Evil.  
This Conjugal Superiority and Power hath been very differently restrained or enlarged. 
The Power of the Husband.  In some Places, where the Paternal Authority hath been so, This hath likewise Extended to Capital Punishment, and made the Husband Judge and Disposer of Life and Death. 
Dionys. Halic. l. 2.  Thus it was with the Romans particularly: For the Laws of Romulus gave a Man Power to kill his Wife in Four Cases, (viz.) Adultery, Putting False Children upon him, False Keys, and Drinking of Wine. Thus Polybius tells us, that the Greeks; and Caesar says that the old Gauls gave Husbands a Power of Life and Death. In Other Parts, and in these already mentioned, since those Times, their Power hath been brought into a narrower Compass. But almost every where it is taken for granted, that the Authority of the Husband, and the Subjection of the Wife, implies thus much: A Right to direct and control the Actions, to confirm or disannul the Resolutions and Vows of the Wife; to Correct her, when she does amiss, by Reproofs and Confinement; (for Blows are below a Man of Honour to give, and not sit for a Woman to receive) and the Wife is obliged to conform to the Condition, to follow the Quality, the Country, the Family, the Dwelling, and the Degree of her Husband; to bear him Company wheresoever he goes, in Journeys, and Voyages, in Banishment, and in Prison, in Flight and Necessity; and, if he be reduced to that hard Fortune, to wander about, and to Beg with him. Some celebrated Examples of this kind in Story are, Sulpitia, who attended her Husband Lontulus, when he was proscribed, and an Exile in Sicily. Erithrea, who went along with her Husband Fhalaris into Banishment. Ipsicrate, The Wife of Mithridates King of Pentus, who kept her Husband Company, when he turned Vagabond, 
Tacit.  after his Defeat by Pompey. Some add, that they are bound to follow them into the Wars, and Foreign Countries, when they are sent abroad upon Expeditions, or go under any Public Character. The Wise cannot sue, or be sued in Matters of Right and Property; all Actions lie against the Husband, and are to be commenced in His Name; and if any thing of this Kind be any where done, it must be with the Leave and Authority of her Husband, or by particular Appointment of the Judge, if the Husband shall decline, or refuse it; neither can she, without express Permission from the Magistrate. Appeal from, or be a Party in any Cause against her Husband.  
Marriage is not every where alike, nor under the same Limitations; 
Different 〈◊〉 a●●●● it.  the Laws and Rules concerning it are very different. In Some Countries there is a greater Latitude, and more Liberties Indulged, in Others less. The Christian Religion, which is by much the strictest of any, hath made it very close and straight. It leaves Nothing at large and in our own Choice, but the first Entrance into this Engagement. When once That is over, a Man's Will is made over too, and conveyed away; for the Covenant is subject to no Dissolution, and we must abide by it, whether we are contented with our Terms, or not. Other Nations and Religions, have contrived to make it more Easy, and Free, and Fruitful, 
Of Polygamy and Divorce.  by allowing and practising Polygamy and Divorce; a Liberty of taking Wives and dismissing them again; and they speak hardly of Christianity for abridging Men in these Two particulars, as if it did great Prejudice to Affection and Multiplication by these Restraints, which are the Two great Ends of Marriage: For Friendship, they pretend, is an Enemy to all manner of Compulsion and Necessity; and cannot consist with it; but is much more improved, and better maintained, by leaving Men free, and at large to dispose of Themselves. And Multiplication is promoted by the Female Sex, as Nature shows us abundantly in that one Instance of Wolves, who are so extremely Fruitful in the Production of their Whelps, even to the Number of Twelve, or Thirteen at a Time; and in this exceed other Animals of Service and common Use very much, so many of which are killed every Day; and so few Wolves; And yet there are notwithstanding fewer of the Breed, Breeders, because fewer She-Wolves, than of any other Species. For, as I said, the true Reason is, because in all those Numerous Litters, there is commonly but one Bitch-Wolf, which for the most Part signifies little, and bears very rarely; the Generation being hindered by the vast Numbers and promiscuous Mixtures of the Males; and so, the much greater part of them die, without ever propagating their Kind at all, for want of a sufficient Proportion of Females, to do it by successfully. It is also manifest, what Advantages of this Nature Polygamy produces, by the vast Increase of those Countries where it is allowed; The Jews, Mahometans, and other Barbarous Nations, (as all their Histories inform us) very usually bringing Armies into the Field, of Three or Four Hundred Thousand fight Men. Now the Christian Religion, on the contrary, allows but One to One, and obliges the Parties to continue thus together; though Either, nay sometimes Both, of them be Barren; which yet perhaps, if allowed to change, might leave a numerous Posterity behind them. But, supposing the very best of the Case, all their Increase must depend upon the Production of One single Woman. And lastly, they reflect upon Christianity, as the occasion of infinite Excesses, Debaucheries, and Adulteries, by this too severe Constraint.  
But the true and sufficient Answer to all these Objections is, That the Christian Religion does not consider Marriage upon such Respects as are purely Humane, and tend to the Gratification of Natural Appetites, or promote the Temporal Good of Men: It takes quite another Prospect of the Thing, and hath Reasons peculiar to itself, sublime, and noble, and infinitely greater, (as hath been hinted already.) Besides, common Experience demonstrates, that in much the greatest part of Married Persons, what they complain of as Confinement and Constraint, does by no means cool and destroy, but promote and heighten the Affection, and render it more dear and strong, by keeping it more entire and unbroken. Especially in Men of honest Principles, and good Dispositions, which easily accommodate their Humours, and make it their Care and Study to comply with the Tempers of the Person to whom they are thus inseparably united. And as for the Debaucheries and Flying out alleged against us, the only Cause of Them is the Dissoluteness of Men's Manners; which a greater Liberty, though never so great, will never be able to correct, or put a Stop to. And accordingly we find, that Adulteries were every whit as rife in the midst of Polygamy and Divorce; Witness the whole Nation of the Jews in general, and the Example of David in particular, who became guilty of this Crime, notwithstanding the Multitude he had of Wives and Concubines of his own. On the contrary, These Vices were not known for a long while together in other Countries, where neither Polygamy nor Divorce were ever permitted; as in Sparta, for Instance, and at Rome, for a considerable time after the Founding of that City. It is therefore most foolish and unjust, to asperse Religion, and charge That with the Vices of Men, which allows and teaches nothing, but exquisite Purity and strict Continence.  
This Liberty taken in Polygamy, 
Polygamy differently practised.  (which hath so great an Appearance of Nature to allege in its behalf) hath yet been very differently managed, according to the several Nations, and the Laws of those Communities, where it was allowed and practised. In Some Places, All that are Wives to the same Man, live alike, and in common. Their Degree and Quality, the Respect and Authority is equal, and so is the Condition and Title of their Children too. In Other Places there is one particular Wife, who is the Principal, and a sort of Mistress above the rest; the Right of Inheritance is limited to the Children by Her; They engross all the Honours, and Possessions, and Pre-eminences of the Husband after his Death: As for the Others, they are lodged and maintained apart, treated very differently from the former: In some Places they are reputed Lawful Wives; in some they are only styled Concubines; and their Children have no Pretention to Titles or Estates; but are provided for by such annual Pensions, or other precarious ways of Subsisting, as the Master of the Family thinks fit to allow them.  
As various have the Practice and the Customs of Men been with regard to Divorce: 
Divorce differently practised.  For with some, as particularly the Hebrews, and Greeks, and Armenians, they never oblige Themselves to allege the particular Cause of Separation; nor are they allowed to take a Wife to them a Second time, which they have once divorced; So far from it, that they are permitted to Marry again to others. But now in the Mahometan Law, Separation must be appointed by a Judge, and after Legal Process, (except it be done by the free Consent of both Parties) and the Crimes alleged against the Woman must be some of so high a Nature, as strike directly at the Root of this Institution, and are destructive and inconsistent with the State of Marriage, or some of the principal Ends of it; such as Adultery, Barrenness, Incongruity of Humours, Attempts upon the Life of the other Party; and, after such Separation made, it is lawful for them to be reconciled, and cohabit again, as oft as they think sit. The Former of these Methods seems much more prudent and convenient, that so there may be a closer Restraint both upon the Pride and Insolence of Wives, when they lie at Mercy, and may be cast off at Pleasure; and also upon the Humoursome and Peevish Husbands, who will be more apt to check and moderate their Resentments, when there is no Return, nothing to be got by repenting, after once Matters have flown so high, as to provoke and effect a Separation. The Second, which proceeds in a Method of Justice, brings the Parties upon the Public Stage, exposes their Faults and Follies to the World, cuts them out from Second Marriages; and discovers a great many things, which were much better kept concealed. And, in case the Allegation be not fully proved; and so they continue obliged to cohabit still, after all this mutual Complaining and Disgrace, What a Temptation is here to Poisoning or Murder, to get rid that way of a Partner of the Bed, which in Course of Law cannot be removed? And many of these Villainies, no doubt, have been committed, of which the World never had the least Knowledge or Suspicion. As at Rome particularly, before Divorce came in use, a Woman who was apprehended for Poisoning her Husband, impeached other Wives, whom she knew to have been guilty of the same Fact; and They again others, till at last Threescore and Ten were all Attainted and Executed for the same Fault, of whom People had not the least Jealousy, till this Discovery was made. But that which seems the worst of all in the Laws relating to a Married Life, is, that Adultery is scarce any where punished with Death; and all that can be done in that Case, is only Divorce, and ceasing to cohabit; Which was an Ordinance introduced by Justinian, One whom his Wife had in perfect Subjection: And no wonder if She made use of that Dominion, (as she really did) to get such Laws enacted, as made most for the Advantage of her own Sex. Now this leaves Men in perpetual danger of Adultery, tempts them to malicious Desires of one another's Death; the Offender that does the Injury is not made a sufficient Example, and the Innocent Person that receives the Wrong, hath no Reparation made for it.  
Of the Duty of Married Persons, See Book III. Chap. 12.   

CHAP. XLVII. Of Parents and Children.  
THere are several Sorts, and several Degrees of Authority and Power among Men; 
Paternal Authority.  Some Public, and others Private; but not any of them more agreeable to Nature, not Any more absolute and extensive, than that of a Father over his Children, (I choose to instance in the Father rather than the Mother, because she being herself in a State of Subjection to her Husband, cannot so properly be said to have her Children under her Jurisdiction.) But even this Paternal Authority hath not been at all Times, and in all Parts of the World equal and alike. In some Ages and Places, and indeed of Old almost every where, it was universal, 
Dion. Halicar. lib. 2. Antiq.  and without restraint: The Life and Death, Estates and Goods, the Liberty and Honour, the Actions and Behaviour of Children was entirely at Their Will; They sued and were sued for them; They disposed of them in Marriage; the Labours of the Children redounded to the Parent's Profit; nay, They themselves were a kind of Commodity; for among the Romans we sinned this Article, 
Rom. 1. in Suis. ff. de lib. & posth.  in that which was called Romulus his Law; 
* Parentum in Liberos omne Jus esto, relegandi, vendendi, occidendi.  The Right of Parents over Children shall be entire and unlimited; they shall have Power to abdicate and banish, to sell, and to put them to death. Only it is to be observed, That all Children under Three Years old, were excepted out of this Condition, because they could not be capable of offending in Word or Deed, 
Aul. Gel. lib. 20. Aristot. Ethic. lib. 8. Caesar, lib. 6. de Bell. Gall. Prosper Acquit. in Epist. Sigism.  nor to give any just Provocation for such hard Usage. This Law was afterwards confirmed and renewed, by the Law of the Twelve Tables; which allowed Parents to sell their Children Three times: And the Persians, as Aristotle tells us, the Ancient Gauls, as Caesar and Prosper agree; the Muscovites and Tartars, might do it Four times. There want not some probable Reasons to persuade us, that this Power had some Foundation, or Countenance at least, in the Law of Nature; and that Instance of Abraham undertaking to slay his Son, hath been made use of, as an Argument to this purpose: For had This been a Thing against his Duty, and such as the Authority of a Father could in no case extend to, he would not (they tell you) ever have consented to it; nor have believed, that this Command had proceeded from God, but rather have imputed it to some Delusion upon his own Mind, if it had been no way reconcilable with Nature, the Laws of which, God had established in the Beginning, and could not be thought so to contradict Himself, as by any particular Order, to appoint a thing altogether inconsistent with his own General Institution before. And accordingly it is observable, that Isaac never went about to make any Resistance, nor pleaded his own Innocency in Bar to what his Father went about to do; as knowing that he only exerted the rightful Power he had over him. What Force there is in this Argument, I shall not take upon me to determine. It is sufficient for my present Purpose to observe, That allowing all this, yet it does not in any degree take off from the Commendation due to Abraham's Faith; for he does not pretend to Sacrifice his Son by Virtue of any such Inherent Right over him, nor upon any Provocation, or Misdemeanour, which Isaac had given him occasion to resent or punish; but purely in obedience to the Command of Almighty God. The Case does not seem to differ much under the Law of Moses; allowing only for some Circumstances, as to the manner of exercising this Authority, which will be taken notice of by and by. Of This, and no less Extent the Paternal Power seems to have been formerly in the greatest part of the World, and so to have continued till the Time of the Roman Emperors. Among the Greeks indeed, and the Egyptians, 
Diodor.  it does not seem to have been altogether so absolute; but even There, if a Father happened to kill his Son unjustly, and without Provocation, the Punishment inflicted for such Barbarity was no other than being shut up with the Dead Body for Three Days together.  
Now the Reasons, 
The Reasons and Effects of it.  and the Effects of so great and unlimited a Power being allowed to Fathers over their Children, (which no doubt was a great advantage for the Advancement of Virtue, the Improvement of Manners and Education, the restraining, preventing, and chastising Extravagance and Vice, and of great good Consequence to the Public too) seem to have been such as These.  
First, The containing Children in their Duty begetting and preserving a due Awe and Reverence in their Minds. Then a Regard to several Vices and Enormities, which, though very grievous in Themselves, would yet pass unpunished, to the great Prejudice of the Public, if they could be taken cognizance of, and animadverted upon by no other Ways and Persons, but Legal Process, and the Sentence of the Magistrate; For abundance of These must needs escape such Censure, partly because they would be Domestic and Private, and partly because there would be no body to inform and prosecute. The Parents Themselves were not likely to be so Officious; the Nearness of the Relation would render it odious, and the Interest of their own Family would restrain them from publishing their own Shame. Or, if they could be supposed to bring all they knew of this kind upon the Open Stage, yet we know there are many Vices, and Insolences, and Disorders, which the Laws and Justice of Nations are not provided with Punishments for. To all which we may add, that there are many Family-Quarrels, between Fathers and Children, Brothers and Sisters, upon the account of dividing Estates and Goods, or several other Things, which, tho' sit to be canvased and corrected within a Man's own Walls, would by no means do well to be ripped up, and exposed to the World; and for These, as the Paternal Authority is necessary, so it is sufficient to compose and quiet all Parties, and put an End to Differences, that concern single Families only. And it was reasonable for the Law to suppose, that no Father would make ill use of this Power; that Men might very safely be entrusted with it, because of that very tender Affection, which Nature inspires all Parents with, such as seems altogether inconsistent with Cruelty toward their own Offspring: And this we see the effect of Daily, in the frequent Intercessions made by Fathers, for the Releasing or Mitigating those public Punishments, which they cannot but be sensible are most justly inflicted; there being no greater Torment to any Parent, than to see his Children under Pain or Disgrace. And where These absolute Prerogatives were allowed, we meet with very few Instances of the exerting their Power, and going to the Extremity of it, without Offences very heinous indeed; so that, in truth, if we regard the Practice, and compare That with the Power itself, we shall have reason to look upon it as a useful Terror, a Bugbear to keep Children in Awe, and fright them into Obedience, rather than any Stretches of Rigour, that was actual, and in good earnest.  
Now this Paternal Authority was gradually lost, and fell to the Ground as it were of itself, 
It's Decay.  (for the Decay of it is in truth to be attributed to Disuse, more than to any Law expressly Repealing it, or Enacting the contrary) and it began most remarkably to decline, when the Roman Emperors came to the Government: For from the time of Augustus, or quickly after, it sunk apace, and lost all its Vigour. And upon this Decay Children grew so stubborn and insolent against their Parents, that Seneca in his Address to Nero, 
Lib. 1. de Clem  says, their Own Eyes had seen more Parricides punished in Five Years then last passed, than there had been for the space of Seven Hundred Years before; that is, from the first Foundation of Rome till That time. Till then, if a Father at any time killed his Children, he was called to no Account, nor had any Punishment inflicted upon him for the Fact; as we may gather evidently by the Examples of Febvins the Senator, 
Sallust. in Bell. Catalin. Valer. Maxim.  who slew his Son for being engaged in Catiline's Conspiracy; and several other Senators, who proceeded against their Sons, and condemned them to Death by virtue of their own Domestic Power, such as Cassius Tratius; or sentenced them to perpetual Banishment, as Manlins Torquatus did his Son Syllanus. There were indeed some Laws afterwards, which appointed, that the Father should bring Informations against the Children that offended, 
L. inauditum ad leg. Corn. F. I. in suis de I. & posth. I. 3. Cod. de pa. potest.  and deliver them over to public Justice: And the Judge in such Cases was obliged to pronounce Sentence as the Father should direct; in which there are some Footsteps of Antiquity. And these Laws, in abridging the Power of the Fathers, proceeded very tenderly, and did not take it away entirely and openly, but with great Moderation, and by halves only. These later Ordinances have some Affinity to the Law of Moses, 
Deut. xxi.  which ordered the stubborn and Rebellious Son to be stoned, upon the Complaint of the Parents, without requiring any farther Proof of the Charge than their single Deposition; and provided the Presence and Concurrence of the Magistrate, not so much for Examination and Trial of the Cause, as to prevent the Privacy and Passion, which might attend Domestic Punishments, and so to render the thing more public, and the Vengeance more exemplary, and full of Terror to others. And thus, even according to the Mosaic Institution, the Paternal Authority was more arbitrary and extensive, than it came to be since the Time of the Roman Emperors. But if we descend a little Lower, and observe its Decrease under Constantine the Great, then under Theodosius, and at last under Justinian, we shall find it almost totally extinct. Hence it came to pass, that Children took upon them to decline, and peremptorily deny Obedience to their Parents; to refuse them a Part in their Possessions; nay, not to allow them so much as convenient Maintenance and Relief in their Necessities. Hence they had confidence to enter Actions against them, and implead them in Courts of Judicature; and an indecent, a most scandalous Thing in truth it is, to observe how frequent such Suits have been. Some have been so wicked, or so mistaken, as to excuse Themselves from Duty upon pretence of Religion; and dedicate That to God, which their Parents had a Right to; as we find Our Blessed Saviour reproaches the Jews for doing; 
Matt. xv.  and the manner he mentions it in, shows plainly, that this impious kind of Devotion was a Practice customary among them before his Time. Since that some have acted after their Examples, even in the Profession of Christianity; and many have held it lawful to kill a Father in one's own Defence, or in case he became a Public Enemy to the State. But sure, if such Relations deserve Death, it ought to be inflicted by some other Hand; and heretofore it was received as a general Maxim, and admits of scarce any Exception. 
* Nullum tantum scelus admitti potest à patre, quod parricidio sit vindicandum; & nullum scelus rationem habet.  That no Wickedness could be committed by a Father, the Heinousness whereof would justify Parricide; to kill a Father is wicked, and no Wickedness can be reasonable.  
Now the Generality of the World do not seem duly sensible of how mischievous Consequence to Mankind, this Abatement and Abolition of the Paternal Authority hath proved. The Governments, under which it was kept up, and vigorously exerted, have flourished, and contained their Subjects in strict Duty. If upon any Occasion it had been found by Experience too sharp and exorbitant, prudent Care might have been taken to regulate and bring it under convenient Restraints. But utterly to disannul and destroy it, is by no means agreeable to Decency or Virtue, and least of all to the Advantage of the Public. For when once the Reins are let lose, and Countenance is given to Disobedience in private Families, it quickly grows to a general Spirit of Faction, and Disorder, and Ungovernable Insolence; and the casting off the Yoke of the Natural Parents, is a bold and dangerous Step toward Rebellion against the Civil. The Effect whereof hath been abundantly seen in the many Inconveniences, which Governments have suffered upon the Relaxation or utter Rescinding of this Authority; whereby in the Event they only clipped their own Wings, and encouraged Enemies and Insurrections against Themselves, as was said just now.  
The Reciprocal Duties of Parents and Children will be treated of Book III. Chap. 14.   

CHAP. XLVIII. Of Lords and their Slaves; Masters and Servants.  
THE making use of Slaves, and the Power of Lords or Masters over them, 
The use of Slaves universal, but unnatural.  tho' it hath been a thing received and practised in all Places and all Ages of the World, (excepting that it was considerably abated for about Four Hundred Years, but now it hath since revived and obtained again:) Yet I cannot forbear looking upon it as a Monstrous Custom, and highly reproachful to Humane Nature. Since Brutes have nothing of this Kind among Them; nor do They either compel their Fellows by Violence and Fraud, or voluntarily submit themselves to Captivity. This seems rather then to have been dispensed with, than approved by the Law of Moses. But even this Indulgence, accommodated to the Necessities of that People, and the Hardness of their Hearts, was not so rigorous as the Practice of other Places; for neither was the Power so absolute, nor the Slavery perpetual; but the One confined to Rules, and the Other terminated with the Seventh or Sabbatical Year. Christianity finding the Usage Universal, did not see fit to break in upon this Constitution, but left its Proselytes at liberty in this Particular, as it did in a Permission of serving and dwelling under Heathen and Idolatrous Princes and Masters. For This and many other Things could not be abolished and set aside at once; but by giving some little Discountenance to them, Time hath worn them off gently, and by degrees.  
Slaves may be distinguished into Four several Kind's. 
Several sorts of Slavery.  1. Such as are Natural, or born of Parents in that Condition. 2. Such as are Slaves upon Force, made so by Conquest, and the Rights of War. 3. Adjudged Slaves, such as are made and awarded to be such, either by way of Punishment for some Crime, or for the Satisfaction of some Debt, which gives the Creditors a Right to their Persons, and of employing them to their own Benefit and Service. This Slavery was limited among the Jews only to a certain Season, Seven Years at the most; the Sabbatical Year put an End to it all; but in other Countries it continued till the Debt was discharged. 4. Voluntary Slaves, or such as are of their own making, as Those who throw Dice for it, or who sell their Liberty for a Sum of Money, as it hath been the Custom to do in Germany; 
Tacit. de mor. Ger.  and is still in some Parts even of the Christian World; or else such as freely surrender up Themselves to the Service of another, and devote their Persons to perpetual Slavery: And thus we read in the Law the Ancient Jews did, 
Exod xxi. Deut. xv.  whose Ears were appointed to be bored with an Awl, to the Door of the House, in token of perpetual Servitude; and that they rather chose this Condition of Life, than to go free, when it was in their Power. This last sort of voluntary and chosen Captivity is, I confess, to Me, the most asTonishing of all the rest; and tho' all manner of Slavery seems to be an Encroachment and Violence upon Nature, yet sure no Kind of it can be so unnatural, as that which a Man covets, and brings upon Himself. That Thing which makes Men Slaves upon Constraint, is Avarice; 
The Cause of it.  and that which makes Men choose to be Slaves, is Cowardice, and base Degeneracy of Spirit; for Lords made Men Slaves, because, when they had them in their Power and Possession, there was more Profit to be got by keeping, than there could be by killing them. And it is observable, that heretofore one of the most valuable sorts of Wealth, and that which the Owners took greatest Pride in, consisted in the Multitude, and the Quality of Slaves. In this respect it was that Crassus grew rich above all other Romans; for besides Those that continually waited upon him, he had Five Hundred Slaves kept constantly at hard Work, and all the Gain of their several Arts and Labours, was daily brought, and converted to his Advantage. And this, tho' very great, was not all the Profit neither; for after that they had made a vast Account of their Drudgery, and kept them a great while thus in Work and Service, their very Persons were a Marketable Commodity, and some farther Gain was made in the Sale of Them to other Masters.  
It would really amaze one, to read and consider well the Cruelties that have been exercised upon Slaves; 
The Cruel Usage of Slaves.  and Those not only such as the Tyranny of an inhuman Lord might put him upon, but such as even the Public Laws have permitted and approved. They used to Chain and Yoke them together, and so make them Till the Ground like Oxen; and they do so to this Day in Barbary; lodge them in Ditches, or Bogs, or Pits, and deep Caves; and when they were worn and wasted with Age and Toil, and so could bring in no more Gain by their Service, the poor impotent Wretches were either sold at a low Price, or drowned, and thrown into Ponds to feed their Lord's Fish. They killed them, not only for the slightest and most insignificant Offence, as the Breaking of a Glass, or the like; but upon the least Suspicions, and most unaccountable Jealousies: Nay, sometimes merely to give Themselves Diversion; as Flaminius did, who yet was a Person of more than ordinary Character, and reputed a very Good Man in his Time. It is notorious, that they were forced to enter the Lists, and combat and kill one another upon the Public Theatres, for the Entertainment of the People. If the Master of the House were Murdered under his own Roof, let who would be the Doer of it, yet all the Slaves, tho' perfectly innocent of the Thing, were sure to go to Pot. And accordingly we find, that when Pedanius, a Roman, was killed, notwithstanding they had certain Intelligence of the Murderer, yet by express Decree of the Senate, Four Hundred poor Wretches, that were his Slaves, were put to Death, for no other reason, but their being so.  
Nor is it much less surprising on the other hand, to take notice of the Rebellions, Insurrections, and Barbarities of Slaves, when they have made Head against their Lords, and gotten them into their Power. And That, not only in Cases of Treachery and Surprise; as we read of one Tragical Night in the City of Tyre; but sometimes in open Field, in regular Forces, and formed Battles, by Sea and Land; all which gave Occasion for the use of that Proverb, That a Man hath as many Enemies as he hath Slaves.  
Now in proportion as the Christian Religion first, 
How they came to lesson.  and afterwards the Mahometan got ground and increased, the Number of Slaves decreased, and the Terms of Servitude grew more easy and gentle. For the Christians first, and afterwards the Mahometans, who affected to follow the Christians Examples, made it a constant Practice and Rule, to give all those Persons their Freedom, who became Proselytes to their Religion. And this proved a very great Invitation, and powerful Inducement, to convert and win Men over. Insomuch that about the Year Twelve Hundred, there was scarce any such thing as a Slave left in the World; except in such places only where neither of these Two Persuasions had gained any Footing or Credit.  
But than it is very remarkable withal, that in the same Proportions, 
And the Poor to increase.  as the Number of Slaves fell away and abated, that of Poor People, and Beggars, and Vagabonds multiplied upon us. And the Reason is very obvious; for Those Persons, who during the State of Slavery, wrought for their Patrons, and were maintained at Their Expense, when they were dismissed Their Families, lost their Table, at the same time they received their Liberty; and when they were thus turned lose into the World, to shift for Themselves, it was not easy for them to find Means of supporting their Families, which, by reason of the great Fruitfulness of People in low Condition generally, were very numerous in Children; and thus they grew overstockt themselves, and filled the World with Poor.  
Want and extreme Necessity presently began to pinch these kind of People, 
Return to Servitude.  and compelled them to return back again to Servitude in their own Defence. Thus they were content to enslave Themselves, to truck and barter away their Liberty, to set their Labours to Sale, and let out their Persons for Hire; merely that they might secure to Themselves convenient Sustenance, and a quiet Retreat; and lighten the Burden which the Increase of Children brought upon them. Besides this pressing Occasion, and the Servitude chosen upon it, the World hath pretty much relapsed into the Using of Slaves again, by means of those continual Wars which both Christians and Mahometans are eternally engaged in; both against each other, and against the Pagans in the East and Western Countries particularly. And though the Example of the Jews be so far allowed, as a good Precedent, that they have no Slaves of their own Brethren and Countrymen, yet of Strangers and Foreigners they have; and These are still kept in Slavery, and under Constraint, notwithstanding they do come over to the Profession of their Master's Religion.  
The Power and Authority of common Masters over their Servants is not at all domineering or extravagant, nor such as can in any degree be prejudicial to the Natural Liberty of Them who live under it. The utmost they can pretend to, is the chastizing and correcting them when they do amiss; and in This they are obliged to proceed with Discretion, and not suffer their Severities to be unreasonable, and out of all Measure. But over those who are hired in as Workmen and Days-men, this Authority is still less; There is only a Covenant for Labour, and Wages in Exchange; but no Power, nor any Right of Correction, or Corporal Punishment lies against These from their Masters.  
The Duty of Masters and Servants is treated of Book III. Chap. 15.   

CHAP. XLIX. Of Public Government, Sovereign Power, and Princes.  
AFter the Account already given of Private Power, 
The Nature and Necessity of Pub-blick Government.  the next thing that falls under our Consideration, is the Public, or that of the State. Now, the State, that is to say, Government, or a Determinate Order, and Establishment, for Commanding and Obeying, is the very Pillar and Support of Humane Affairs, the Cement that knits and keeps them Fast and Strong; the Soul that gives them Life and Motion, the Band of all Society which can never subsist without it; the vital Spirit of this Body Politic, that enables Men, so many Thousands of Men, to breathe as One, and compacts all Nature together.  
Now, notwithstanding the absolute Necessity and unspeakable Convenience This is of, for sustaining the Universe, yet is it, really, a very slippery and unsafe thing, extremely difficult to manage, and liable to infinite Changes and Dangers. 
* Arduum & subjectum fortunae cuncta regendi onus.  The Governing of Men, and their Affairs, is a very hard Undertaking, a heavy Burden, and exposed to great variety of Chances. It often declines and languishes; nay, sometimes falls to the Ground, by secret Misfortunes, and unseen Causes. And though its rising to a just Height, is Gradual and Slow, a Work of much Time, and great Pains and Prudence; yet the Ruins and Decays of it are frequently sudden and surprising; and the Constitutions, which took up Ages to finish and build up, are broken and thrown down in a Moment. It is likewise exposed to the Hatred and Envy of all Degrees and Conditions. The High and the Low watch it curiously, and are Jealous of all its Proceed, and set Themselves at Work perpetually, to endanger and undermine it. This Uneasiness, and Suspicion, and general Enmity, proceeds partly from the Corrupt Manners and Dispositions of the Persons in whom the Supreme Power is vested, and partly from the Nature of the Power itself, of which you may take this following Description.  
Sovereignty, is properly a Perpetual and Absolute Power, 
What Sovereign Power is.  Subject to no Limitation, either of Time, or of Terms and Conditions. It consists in a Right of constituting and giving Laws to all in General, and to each Person under its Dominion in Particular; and that, without consulting or ask the Consent of such as are to be governed by them; and likewise in being above all Restraints, or having Laws imposed upon itself from any other Person whatsoever. For to Impose, and Command a Duty, argues Superiority, and That which is Sovereign, can have no Superior. And, as another expresses it, It infers a Right Paramount of making Reservations and Exceptions from the usual Forms, (as the King in Courts of Equity corrects the Common Law:) For Sovereignty, in its highest and strictest Importance, implies the Contrary to Subjection, or the being bound by Humane Laws, either of others, or its own Appointment, so as not to repeal or alter them, as there shall be Occasion. For it is contrary to Nature, for all Men to give Law to Themselves, and to be absolutely commnded by Themselves, in Things that depend upon their own Will. 
* Nulla Obligatio consistere potest, quae à voluntate promittentis statum capit.  No Obligation can continue firm, none can lie there, where the Person that engages, hath nothing but his own Will to bind him: And therefore Sovereign Power, Properly so called, cannot have its Hands tied up by any other, whether Living or Dead; neither its Own, nor its Predecessor's Decrees, nor the Received Laws of the Country can be Unalterable or Irreversible. This Power hath been compared by some to Fire, to the Sea, to a Wild Beast, which it is very hard to tame, or make treatable; it will not endure Contradiction, it will not be molested, or if it be, it is a Dangerous Enemy, a just and severe Avenger of them that have the Hardiness to provoke it. 
† Potestas res est, quae moneri doecrique non vult, & cistrigationem aegrè fert.  Power (says one) is a Thing that seldom bears to be admonished or instructed, and is generally very impatient of Contradiction or Reproof.  
The Marks and Characters, which are proper to it, 
Its Properties.  and by which it is distinguished from other Sorts of Power, are, the Giving Judgement, and pronouncing Definitive Sentences, whereby all contending Parties shall be concluded, and from whence there lies no Appeal. A full Authority to make Peace and War, Creating, and Depriving Magistrates, and Officers; granting Indulgences, and dispensing with the Rigour of the Laws upon particular Hardships, and extraordinary Emergencies; levying of Taxes; coining and adjusting the Value of Money, ordering what shall be current in its Dominions, and at what Prices; Receiving of Homage and Acknowledgements from its Subjects, and Embassies from Foreigners; Requiring Oaths of Fidelity from the Persons under its Protection, and administering them in Controversies and Trials of Right and Wrong. But all is reduced at last, and comprehended under the Legislative Power, the enacting such Laws as it shall think fit, and by Them binding the Consciences of Those who live within its Dominions. Some indeed have added Others, which are so small and trivial in Comparison, that they are scarce worth naming after the Former; such as the Admiralty, Rights of the Sea, Title to Wracks upon the Coast, Confiscation of Goods in Cases of Treason, Power to change the Language, the Ensigns of Government, and Title of Majesty.  
Greatness and Sovereignty is infinitely coveted by almost All. But wherefore is it? Surely for no other Reason so much, as that the Outside is Gay and Glorious, Beautiful and Glittering; but the Inside is hid from common Observation. Every body sees the Plenty, the Pomp, and the Advantages of a Crown, but few or none at a distance are acquainted with the Weight, the Cares, the Troubles, and the Dangers of it. It is True indeed, To Command is a Noble and a Divine Post; but it is as True, that it is an Anxious, a Cumbersome, and a Difficult One. Upon the same Account it is, that the Persons in that Dignity and Elevation, are esteemed and reverenced much above the Rate of Common Men. And very Just it is they should be so, for this Opinion is of great Use to extort that Respect and Obedience from the People, upon the due Payment whereof, all the Peace and Quiet of Societies depend. But if we take these great Persons apart from their Public Character, and consider them as Men, we shall find them just of the same Size, and cast in the same Mould, with other common Men; nay, too often, of worse Dispositions, and not so liberally dealt with by Nature, as many of their Inferiors. We are apt to think that every Thing a Prince does, must needs proceed upon great and weighty Reasons, because all they do is in the Event of great and general Importance to Mankind; but in truth the Matter is much otherwise, and They think, and resolve, and act, just like One of Us; For Nature hath given Them the same Faculties, and moves them by the same Springs. The Provocation, which would set Two private Neighbours to Scolding and Quarrelling, makes a Public War between Two States; and what One of Us would whip his Child or his Page for, incenses a Monarch to chastise a Province, that hath offended him. Their Wills are as liable to Levity as Ours, but their Power and the Effect of what they will, is incomparably greater. But still Nature is the same in the Fly, as in the Elephant, and both are actuated by the same Appetites and Passions. Nay, let me take leave to add, that, besides those Passions, and Defects, and Natural Qualifications, and Abatements, which they share in common with the least and meanest of their Servants and Adorers; there are some Vices and Inconveniences in a manner peculiar to Them alone; such as the Eminence of their Condition, and the vast Extent of their Power inspires them with a more than ordinary Tendency, with vehement and almost unavoidable propensions to.  
The Manners and Temper of Great Persons have been commonly observed by the Wisest and most Discerning Persons to be, Invincible Pride, 
The Manners and Dispositions of Great Persons.  and Self-conceit. 
* Du●●●s & veri insolens: Ad recta flecti regius non vult tumour.  An abounding in their own Sense, which is Stiff, and Inflexible, incapable of Truth, and disdaining better advice. Licentiousness and Violence; 
† Id esse regni maximum pignus putant, si quicquid aliis non licet, solis licet.  which looks upon a Liberty of doing what no body else may do, as the particular Distinction, and most Glorious Privilege of their Character. So that their Favourite Motto is, 
* Quicquid libet, licet.  My Will is a Law. Suspicion and Jealousy, for they are 
† Suapte Naturâ Potentiae anxii.  Naturally tender and fearful of their Power; nay, fearful sometimes even of their own Children and nearest Relations; 
‖ Suspectus semper invisusque dominantibus quisquis proximus destinatur, adeo ut displiceant etiam civilia Filiorum ingenia.  The next in Succession is always looked upon with an Evil and Jealous Eye, by the Person in present Possession of the Throne; so that any the least Genius of Government, or interesting themselves in Public Affairs, is very unacceptable in the Sons of Princes; And hence it is that they are so often in Fears and mighty Consternations, for 
* Ingenia Regum prona ad formidinem.  it is usual and natural to Kings, to live under continual Apprehensions.  
The Advantages, which Kings and Sovereign Princes have above Those of meaner Condition, seem indeed to be Marvellous Great, and Glorious; but when nicely considered, they are in Truth but very Thin and 'Slight, and little more than mere Imagination. But, were they much above, what really they are, it is certain they are dearly bought at the Expense of the many Weighty, Solid and Substantial Troubles and Inconveniences that constantly attend them. The Name and the Title of Sovereign, the Splendour and Formalities of a Court, and all the Pomp and Parade that draws our Eyes and Observation, carry a Beautiful, and Desirable Appearance, such as raises our Wonder, and kindles our Wishes and Desires; but the Burden and the Inside of all this Shining Pageantry, is Hard and Knotty, Laborious and Painful. There is Honour in Abundance, but very little Joy or Ease; It is a Public and an Honourable Servitude, an Illustrious Misery, a Wealthy Captivity. The Chains are of Gold, but still they are Chains. And it is worth our While to observe the Behaviour and the Reflections of Augustus, Marcus Aurelius, Pertinax, Dioclesian, upon this Occasion; and the wretched End of most of the Twelve Caesars, and many Others of their Successors in the Empire. But, now in Regard these seem Words of Course only, such as very few will give any Credit to, because they suffer Themselves to be imposed upon by a gay and deceitful Face of Power, I shall think it worth while to clear this Matter, by giving a distinct and particular Account of some Inconveniences and Miseries, with which the Condition of Sovereign Princes is constantly encumbered.  
First, The mighty Dissiculty of acting their Part well, 
In the Discharge of their Office.  and acquitting Themselves of so weighty a Charge. For if it be so very Hard a Thing, as we find by sad Experience it is, to govern one's self well, what infinite Hardship must we in reason suppose there is, in governing a Multitude of People? It is certainly much more Easy and Pleasant to follow, than to lead; to have no more to do, than only to keep a plain beaten Road, than to beat out a Path for Others; to obey, than to direct and command; to answer for one's single self, than to be responsible for one's Self and a great many More besides. 

* 
Ut satius multo jam sit parere quietum  
Quam regere imperio res velle—  Lucret. lib. V.  And thus 'tis better than proud Sceptres sway,  
To live a quiet Subject, and obey.  Creech. To all This we may add, that it is highly Necessary for the Person, whose Duty it is to Command, to be more excellent and exemplary, than Them who are commanded by him; as that Great Commander Cyrus, very truly observed. And this Difficulty we cannot be better made sensible of, by any Argument, than Matter of Fact; which proves to us Experimentally, how very few Persons, History makes mention of in this Character, who have in all Points been, what they ought to be. Tacitus says, that of all the Roman Emperors till that Time, Vespasian was the only true good Man; and another ancient Author hath taken the Confidence to affirm, that the Names of all the good Princes that ever were, might be engraven within the Compass of a Ring.  
The Second Difficulty may be fixed very Reasonably upon their Pleasures and Delights, 
In their Pleasures and Actions of their Lise.  of which Men usually think, (but they think very much amiss) that They have a greater Share, and more perfect Enjoyment, than the rest of Mankind. For in truth their Condition, in this Respect, is infinitely Worse than that of Private Men. The Lustre and Eminence of great Persons gives them great Inconvenience in the Fruition, of what it furnishes them with Power and Opportunities for. They are too much exposed to Public View, move openly and in check, and are perpetually watched, controlled, and censured, even to their very Thoughts, which the World will always take a Liberty of guessing at, and censuring, tho'. they are no competent Judges, nor can possibly have any Knowledge of the Matter. Besides this Restraint, there is likewise some Disadvantage in the very Easiness they feel of doing whatever their Inclination leads them to, and every Thing bending, and yielding to their Pleasure; for This takes away all that Relish and pleasing Sharpness, which is necessary to render a Thing Delightful; and Nothing is, or can be so to us, which hath no Mixture or Dissiculty to recommend and heighten it. A Man that never gives himself time to be Dry, will never be sensible what Pleasure there is in quenching one's Thirst; and all Drinking will be flat and insipid to him. Fullness and Plenty is one of the most troublesome Things in the World, and, instead of helping forward, does but provoke us to nauseate our Happiness. 

* 
Pinguis amor nimiumque potens in taedia nobis  
Vertitur, & Stomacho dulcis ut esca nocet.  Ovid. Amor. L. 2. Eleg. 19  Gross easy Love does like gross Diet, pall;  
In squeasie Stomaches Honey turns to Gall.  Dryden. The greatest Interruption to our Enjoyments, and the most distasteful Thing that can happen to us, is Abundance: To be cloyed is to lose All. And therefore we may say, that Princes are not capable of such a thing as Action; for this cannot be lively and vigorous without some Degree of Difficulty and Resistance: Other Men may be said to live, and move, and act, who meet with Obstruction and Opposition; but They who meet with none, may more truly be said to dream, or walk in their Sleep, or to glide along insensibly through the whole Course of their Lives.  
The Third Particular, in which they find Themselves aggrieved above others, is in their Marriage. 
In their Marriage.  The Matches made by Persons of inferior Quality are infinitely more free and easy; the effect of Choice, the result of Affection, more void of Constraint, and full of Satisfaction. One great Reason, no doubt, of this Difference is, that Common Men have greater Choice, and may find great Variety and Numbers equal with Themselves, to take a Wife out of; But Kings and Princes are but few; and therefore if They resolve to marry suitably to Themselves, there can be no great picking and choosing in the Case. But the other Reason is, and indeed the more considerable of the Two, That Private Persons have nothing farther to aim at beyond their own particular Concerns; They consult their own Comfort and Convenience; but Princes are often confined and tied up by public Considerations. Their Marriages are vast Intrigues of State, and designed to be instrumental in securing the Happiness and Peace of the World in general. Great Persons do not Marry for Themselves, but for the common Good of Nations and Kingdoms. And this is what they ought to be more in love with, and tender of, than of their Wife and Children. Upon this Account they are frequently obliged to hearken to Proposals where there is neither Affection nor Delight to invite them; they often engage themselves to Persons, whom they are so far from being taken with, that sometimes they never know nor see them, till it is out of their Power to retreat. There is no such thing as Love or Liking between the Parties; but the short of the Matter is, Such a great Prince marries such a great Princess, which, if he had been in another Capacity, he would never have chosen or consented to. But the Public was concerned, and is served by it; and he is content to enslave Himself for his whole Life, because that Alliance was necessary to be contracted, for the strengthening his Interest, and the security of his Kingdoms; and the mutual Benefit and Ease which Nations may receive by such a convenient Union.  
I may reckon this for a Fourth Disadvantage, that They can have no part in those Trials and little Emulations, which other Men are continually exercised in towards one another, by the Jealousy they express of their Honour, or signalizing their Valour, their Wit, or their Bodily Strength; which after all, is one of the most sensible Pleasure's Men enjoy in Conversation with one another. The Reason is obvious; because every Man thinks himself bound in good Manners to yield to Them, to save a Decency, and not suffer them to be outdone; and had rather balk their Own Honour, and abate of what they could do upon these Occasions, than give Offence to a Prince, whom they know Ambitious of being thought the Conqueror of all that contend with him. Now the Bottom and Truth of all this Matter is, that upon pretence of Deference and Respect, such Great Men are abused, and treated with great Scorn, and secret Contempt; which gave occasion to a wise Man to say, that the Children of Princes were in a very ill way of Education, for they learned nothing as they should do, except the Art of Riding a Managed Horse; because in all other Cases Men yield, and adjudge the Prize to them; but this Beast, who is not capable of Flattery, nor hath learned the Arts of Courtship and Complaisance, makes no difference between the Prince and his Groom, and throws either of them without distinction. Several great Men have therefore refused the Applauses of Spectators, and scorned their formal Commendations, saying, I should take this kindly, and be proud of it, if it came from Persons that durst say otherwise, and who would take that generous Freedom of finding Fault with Me, when I gave them a just occasion of doing so.  
The Fifth Inconvenience is, Their being debarred the Liberty of going Abroad, 
Incapacity of Travelling.  and the mighty Advantages of seeing the World. For they are perfectly Imprisoned within their own Country, and generally cooped up within the Precincts of their Court and there they are hedged in, as it were, with their own Creatures; exposed to the View of Spectators, and the Censure of Impertinent Tattlers and Busybodies, that watch and dog them every where, even in their most secret Actions. Which made King Alphonso say, that in this Respect the very Asses had more Liberty, and were in a better Condition, than Kings.  
The Sixth Topick of their Miseries is, 
As also of mutual and cordial Friendship.  the being shut out from all sincere Friendship, and mutual Society, which is the very sweetest and most valuable Advantage of Humane Life; but such a one as can never be enjoyed, except among Equals, or such at least between whom there is no very great Inequality. Now the Elevation of a Prince is so high, and the Distance at which his Subjects stand below him so very great, that it makes any intimate, and free Correspondence impracticable. All the Services, and Compliments, and humble Formalities paid them, come from such Hands as must do what they do, and dare not do otherwise. They are by no means the effect of Friendship, but of servile Submission, and Interest, and Design. All their zealous Professions are not for His sake, but their Own; to ingratiate and to raise Themselves; or else they are a Matter of Custom and Show only. Which we see plainly they often are, from the vilest and most wicked Kings being served, and reverenced, and addressed to, in the very same manner with the best, and most truly deserving those Honours; and even Them whom the People hate and curse, with Those whom they cordially love and adore. But still, whether a Prince be the One or the Other of these, no body can make any Conjecture at all from outward Forms and Appearances; The Pomp, the Ceremony, the Compliment, and the whole Face and Behaviour of a Court, is always alike: Which Julian the Emperor was so sensible of, that when some of his Courtiers commended his Justice, he made Answer, That he indeed should have some Temptation to grow proud upon their Praises, but that he considered whom they came from; and they who gave him good Words then, durst not take upon them to Chide him when he happened to deserve it.  
The Seventh Particular, 
Being kept in Ignorance.  in which they exceed the Miseries of common Men; and That which perhaps is of all others the worst in itself, and most destructive to the public Safety, is, That they are not at liberty to use their own Discretion in the choice of Servants and Officers of Honour and Trust; nor have Opportunities of attaining to a true and perfect Knowledge of Things. They are never suffered to know All; nor are they ever throughly acquainted what condition their Affairs are really in; some better Face put upon the good part, and some part concealed or coloured over, which is unfortunate or ill-managed, and would be unacceptable, if rightly represented. As little are they let in to the true Characters of Men, and consequently, who are fit to be employed and trusted. And what can be more miserable than such a State of Ignorance as This; when They, whose concern it is to know best, are far from understanding truly, either what is to be done, or who are most proper to do it? Alas! they are encompassed, and blockaded up, as it were, by People of the first Quality, whom there is no getting lose from: Either such as are their own Relations, or who, upon the Account of their Families, and Honours, and Places, or by long Custom and Prescription, are so fixed in Authority, and have so great a Concern in the Management of Affairs, that it is not advisable or safe to give them Disgust. They must be caressed, and preferred, and have no ground of Jealousy or Discontent given them: If Offices of the highest Consequence are to be disposed of, These Persons must not be overlooked; if, when they are thus employed, they prove incapable or unfit, the Retreat is difficult; All the Nobility of their Alliance resent their Slight, or their Disgrace; and the mending an Improper Choice, or the making a Proper One, is sometimes in hazard of bringing All into Confusion. Now these Persons, who make it their Business to keep their Prince constantly muffled up, and never let him see the World, take good care that nothing shall appear to him as it really is; and that all such as are truly better and more useful Men than Themselves, shall never gain free Access to him, nor have their Abilities known. O! 'tis a wretched thing to see nothing but with other People's Eyes; and to hear nothing but with other men's Ears; as Princes, whose Eminence will not admit of Freedom, and Plain-dealing, and promiscuous Conversation, are under a necessity of doing. But that which makes the Misery complete, and the very worst that can be, is, that, commonly speaking, Princes and Great Persons are by a strange sort of Fatality, destined to, and in the possession of Three sorts of Men, who are the very Bane and Pest of Mankind, (viz.) Flatterers, Projectors for raising Money, and Informers. And these under a specious, but counterfeit Pretence, either of Zeal and Affection for their Prince, (as the Two former do) or of Integrity, and Virtue, and Reformation, (as the last) instead of improving or amending either, utterly deprave and ruin both Prince and People.  
The Eighth Misery is, That they are less Masters of their own Wills, than any other Persons. For in all their Proceed, there are infinite Considerations and Respects, which they are bound to observe, and these captivate and constrain their Designs, and Inclinations, and Desires. 
* In maximâ fortunà minima licentia.  The greater any Man's Station and Capacity is, the less he is at his own Disposal. This one would think should prevail for fair Quarter at least, and favourable Allowances for what they do; but instead of being pitied or lamented for this Hardship, they are the most barbarously treated, the most severely censured, and traduced, of any Men living. For every bold Fellow sets up for a Politician, and undertakes to guests at their Meanings, to penetrate into their very Hearts and Thoughts. 
* Abditos Principis sensus, & si quid occultius parat exquirere, illicitum, anceps, nec ideo assequare.  To pry too curiously into the secret Intentions of a Prince, is unlawful; or if it were not, yet it is but doubtful, and a Guess at best, what we cannot compass, and therefore ought not to attempt. The Cabinets of Princes are Sacred, and their Breasts ought to be much more so. These busy Men cannot discern them, and yet they are eternally arraigning and sentencing; They have a quite different Prospect of Things; and see them under another Face, from what they appear to Those at the Helm; or if they saw them both alike, yet both are not equally capable of understanding the Intricacies of them. Intrigues of State are Things above a Vulgar Capacity; but notwithstanding, every Man expects his Prince should do what He thinks most convenient, and blames his Conduct if he do otherwise; there is no Favour, no Patience to be obtained for any thing contrary to each Man's Private Sentiments, tho' it be in itself never so fit, never so necessary, never so impossible to have been managed otherwise. In a Word, every Shop, every Coffee-house sits in Judgement upon their Governors; and without hearing or knowing the Merits of the Cause, proceed to severe and saucy Condemnations of Them.  
Lastly, It happens very often, 
Their miserable End.  that Princes come to a very untimely and unfortunate End; not only such of Them as by Usurpation and Tyranny provoke Men to bring it upon them, for this is not much to be wondered at, and such have no more than their Due; but, (which is a miserable Case indeed) Those who are most Rightful in their Title, and most regular, and just, and gentle in the Administration of their Government. How frequent Instances of this kind does the Roman History present us with, in those Emperors that followed after the Civil Wars of Pompey and Caesar? And not to go so far back, we know that Henry III. of France, was Assassinated by a little insignificant Friar in the midst of an Army of Forty Thousand Men; and infinite other Examples of Poisonings, Murders, and villainous Conspiracies are to be found in all Ages. 

* 
Ad generum Cereris sine caede & sangu●ne pauci  
Descendunt Reges, & siccâ morte Tyranni.   King's post down to the Shades in Blood; few stay  
For Common Deaths, and Nature's slow decay.  A Man would be almost tempted to imagine, that as Storms and Tempests, seem to wreek their Spite most upon the towering Pride of the loftyest Buildings, so there are some malicious Spirits, that envy, and make it their Business to humble and ruin, and trample down the Majesty and Greatness of Those, who stand most exalted here below. 

† 
Usque adeo res humanas vis abdita quaedam  
Obterit, & pulchros fasces, saevasque secures  
Proculcare, ac ludibrio sibi haberi videtur.  Lucret. Lib. 5.  And hence we fancy unseen Powers in Things  
Whose Force and Will such strange Confusion brings,  
And spurns and overthrows our greatest Kings.  Creech  
To sum up all in a Word. The Condition of Sovereign Princes is above all Others encumbered with Difficulties, and exposed to Dangers. Their Life, provided it be Innocent and Virtuous, is infinitely laborious, and full of Cares; If it be Wicked, it is then the Plague and Scourge of the World; hated and cursed by all Mankind; and whether it be the One or the Other, it is beset with inexpressible Hazards; For the greater any Governor is, the less he can be secure; the less he can trust to Himself; and yet the more need he hath to be secure, and not to trust Others, but Himself. And this may satisfy us, how it comes to pass, that the being betrayed and abused, is a thing very natural and easy to happen, a common, and almost inseparable Consequence of Government and Sovereign Power.  
Of the Duty of Princes, see Book III. Chap. 16.   

CHAP. L. Of Magistrates.  
THere are great Differences, and several Degrees of Magistrates, with regard both to the Honour, and the Power that belongs to them: For These are the two considerable Points to be observed in distinguishing them, and they are entirely independent upon one another; They may be, and often are each of them single and alone. Sometimes Those Persons who are in the most honourable Posts, have yet no great Matter of Authority or Power lodged in their Hands; as the King's Council, Privy-Counsellors in some Governments, and Secretaries of State: Some have but One of these two Qualifications; others have Both; and all have them in different Degrees; but those are properly, and in strict speaking, Magistrates, in whom both Honour and Power meet together.  
Magistrates are in a middle Station, and stand between the Prince and Private Men; subordinate to the One, but superior to the Other; They carry Justice home, and hand it down from above; but of this they being only the Ministers and Instruments, can have no manner of Power inherent in Themselves, when the Prince Himself, who is the Fountain of Law and Justice, is present. As Rivers lose their Name and their Force, when they have emptied and incorporated their Waters into the Sea, and as Stars disappear at the Approach of the Sun; so all the Authority of Magistrates in the Presence of the Sovereign, whose Deputies and Vicegerents They are, is either totally suspended, or upon sufferance only. And the Case is the same if we descend a little lower, and compare the Commissions of Subalterns, and inferior Officers, with Those in a higher and more general Jurisdiction. Those that are in the same Commission are all upon the Level; there is no Power or Superiority There over one another; all that they can do, is to consult together, and be assisting to each other by concurrence; or else to obstruct and restrain each other, by opposing what is doing, and preventing its being done.  
All Magistrates judge, condemn, and command, either according to the Form and express Letter of the Law; (and then the Decisions they give, and the Sentences they pronounce, are nothing else but a putting the Law in execution) or else they proceed upon Rules of Equity, and reasonable Consideration, (and then this is called the Duty of the Magistrate.)  
Magistrates cannot alter their own Decrees, nor correct the Judgement they have given, without express Permission of the Sovereign, upon Penalty of being adjudged Falsifiers of the Public Records. They may indeed revoke their own Orders, or they may suspend the Execution of them for some time, as they shall see Occasion. But when once a Cause is brought to an Issue, and Sentence given upon a full and fair Hearing, they have no Power to retract that Judgement, nor to mend or try it over again, without fresh Matter require it.  
Of the Duty of Magistrates. See Book III. Chap. 17.   

CHAP. LI. Lawgivers and Teachers.  
IT is a Practice very usual with some Philosophers and Teachers, to prescribe such Laws and Rules, as are above the Proportions of Virtue, and what the Condition of Humane Nature will suffer very few, if any at all to come up to. They draw the Images much bigger and more beautiful than the Life; or else set us such Patterns of Difficult and Austere Virtue, as are impossible for us to equal, and so discourage many; and render the Attempt itself Dangeous', and of ill Consequence to some. These are merely the Painter's Fancy, like Plato's Republic, Sir Thomas More's Utopia, Cicero's Orator, or Horace his Poet. Noble Characters indeed, and a Collection of acknowledged Excellencies in Speculation; but such as the World wants living Instances of. The Best and most perfect Lawgiver, who in marvellous Condescension was pleased himself to be sensible of our Infirmities, hath showed great Tenderness and Compassion for them, and wisely considered what Humane Nature would bear. He hath suited all Things so well to the Capacities of Mankind, that those Words of His are True, even in this Respect also, My Yoke is easy, and my Burden is light.  
Now, where these Powers are not duly consulted, the Laws are first of all Unjust; for some Proportion ought to be observed between the Command, and the Obedience; the Duty imposed, and the Ability to discharge it. I do not say, These Commands should not exceed what is usually done, but what is possible to be done; for what Vanity and Folly is it to oblige People to be always in a Fault, and to cut out more Work, than can ever be finished? Accordingly we may frequently observe, that these rigid Stretchers of Laws, are the First that expose them to public Scorn, by their own Neglect; and, like the Pharisees of old, lay heavy Burdens upon others, which they themselves will not so much as touch with one of their Fingers. These Examples are but too obvious in all Professions; This is the Way of the World. Men direct one Thing, and practise another; and That, not always through Defect or Corruption of Manners, but sometimes even out of Judgement and Principle too.  
Another Fault too frequent is, That many Persons are exceeding Scrupulous and Nice in Matters which are merely Circumstantial, or free and indifferent in their own Nature; even above what they express themselves in some of the most necessary and substantial Branches of their Duty, such as the Laws of God, or the Light of Nature have bound upon them. This is much such another Extravagance, as lending to other People, while we neglect to pay our own Debts. A Pharisaical Ostentation, which our Heavenly Master so severely exposes the Jewish Elders for, and is at the Bottom no better than Hippocras; a mocking of God, and Miserable deluding of their own Souls.  
Seneca indeed hath said something concerning the Impracticableness of some Duties, which, if rightly observed, is of good Use; but than it must not be overstrained, nor applied to all Occasions indifferently. 
* Quoties parum fiduciae est, in his, in quibus imperas, amplius exigendum est quam satis est, ut praestetur quantum satis est. In hoc omnis Hyperbole excedit, ut ad Verum Mendacio veniat.  When ever (says he) you have Reason to distrust the due performance of the Precepts or Laws you establish, it is necessary to require something more than will just serve the Turn, to the intent, That which is sufficient may be sure not to be neglected. For all Hyperboles and Excesses of this kind are useful to this purpose, that Men, by having something expressed which is not true, may be brought to just Ideas of that which is true.  
With this Quotation our Author ends his Chapter in the older Edition, which I thought convenient to add here; and not only so, but in regard I am sensible, what perverse Use Licentious Men may make of the former Objection to the Prejudice of Religion, and in particular Vindication of their own Neglects and Vicious Lives; and also what Occasions of Scruple and Disquiet it may minister to some well meaning Persons, when they compare their own Defects with the Perfection of the Divine Laws; I beg the Reader's Leave to insert at large what a Learned and Excellent Writer of our own hath delivered to this purpose. And this I hope, if well considered, may both confute the Licentious, and quiet the Doubting and Dissatisfied in the Point before us.  
Laws (says he) must not be depressed to our Imperfection, 
Dr. Barrow Vol. I. Serm. xxvi.  nor Rules bend to our Obliquity; but we must ascend towards the Perfection of Them, and strive to conform our Practice to Their Exactness. If what is prescribed, be according to the Reason of Things, Just and Fit, it is enough, although our Practice will not reach it. For what remaineth may be supplied by Repentance, and Humility, in him that should obey; by Mercy and Pardon in him that doth command.  
In the Prescription of Duty it is just, that what may be required (even in Rigour) should be precisely determined; though in Execution of Justice, or Dispensation of Recompense, Consideration may be had of our Weakness: Whereby both the Authority of our Governor, may be maintained, and his Clemency glorified.  
It is of great Use, that by comparing the Law with our Practice, and in the Perfection of the One, discerning the Defect of the Other; we may be humbled, may be sensible of our Impotency, may thence be forced to seek the Helps of Grace, and the Benefit of Mercy.  
Were the Rule never so low, our Practice would come below it; it is therefore expedient that it should be high; that at least we may rise higher in Performance than otherwise we should do. For the higher we aim, the nearer we shall go to the due Pitch; as He that aimeth at Heaven, although he cannot reach it, will yet shoot higher, than He that aimeth only at the House Top.  
The Height of Duty doth prevent Sloth and Decay in Virtue, keeping us in wholesome Exercise, and in continual Improvement, while we are always climbing towards the Top, and straining unto farther Attaintment. The sincere Prosecution of which Course, as it will be more Profitable to Us, so it will be no less Acceptable to God, than if we could thoroughly fulfil the Law; For in Judgement God will only reckon upon the Sincerity and Earnestness of our Endeavour; so that if we have done our Best, it will be taken, as if we had done All. Our Labour will not be lost in the Lord; for the Degrees of performance will be considered, and he that hath done his Duty in part, shall be proportionably recompensed; according to that of St. Paul, Every Man shall receive his own reward according to his own Work. Hence sometimes we are enjoined to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect; and to be Holy as God is Holy; otherwhile to go on to Perfection, and to press toward the Mark; which Precepts, in Effect do import the same Thing; but the latter implieth the former, although in Attainment impossible, yet in Attempt very profitable. And surely he is likely to write best, who proposeth to himself the fairest Copy for his Imitation.  
In fine, if we do act what is possible, or as we can, do conform to the Rule of Duty, we may be sure, that no Impossibility of any Sublime Law can prejudice us.  
I say of any Law, for— many, perhaps every one Evangelical Law are alike repugnant to corrupt Nature, and seem to surmount our Ability.  
Thus far that Reverend Person, whose Argument I know not whether I ought to ask pardon for representing so largely; but I was willing to give it entire, for the greater Satisfaction of Them who think themselves concerned to consider it: And likewise, that it might be of more Use, when applied, (as very appliable it is) to other Laws and Precepts, wherein Religion is not immediately concerned. In short, a Lawgiver and a Judge are two very different Characters, and such as require very different Methods, and Principles; for it is one Thing to Establish, and Another to Execute the Law. And the want of observing this Distinction occasions all the Complaints and Declamatory Strains we hear, against Moral and Revealed Religion, as if they imposed Things merely Romantic, and Imaginary. To all which I add too, that though we none of us can attain to Perfection, yet most of us might go much greater Lengths towards it, than we do. And that This is often made an unnecessary Pretence, a Cloak to our Folly, or Sloth, or indulged Vices; which, when they have all of them been wilful and affected, we palliate and excuse, by taking Sanctuary very improperly, in the Infirmities of Humane Nature, the Imperfections and Failings of the best Men, and the Impossibility and Impracticableness of the Duties imposed upon us.   

CHAP. LII. Of the Common People.  
BY the Common People, here, we are not to understand all that have no Part in the Government, and whose only Business is to Obey; but I mean the Rout and vulgar Crowd, the Dregs and Rubbish of the Commonwealth; Men of a Mean, Slavish, and Mechanical Spirit and Condition, let them cover, or call, or set Themselves off how they will. Now, This is a many-headed Monster; such as cannot be described in a little Compass; Inconstant and Changeable, Restless and Rolling, like the Waves of the Sea; They are ruffled and calmed, They approve and disapprove the selfsame Thing, in a Moment of Time: Nothing in the World can be more easy, than to manage and turn this Bauble which Way and into what Form you please; they Laugh or Cry, are Angry or Pleased, or in any other Passion, just as one would have them; They love not War for the Sake of its End, nor Peace for the Sake of the Quiet it brings, but they are fond both of the One and the Other; because each is New, and always makes some Change. Confusion puts them upon desiring Order; and when they are composed, they hate Order and Regularity then, as much as they did Confusion before. They are perpetually running from one Extreme to another; fond of Contraries; all Seasons and Times are lost to them, except what is not; for they feed only upon the Future. 
† Hi vulgi mores odisse, praesentia, ventura cupere, praeterita celebrare.  These (says one) are the Qualities, This the constant Custom and Practice of the Common People, to hate and decry the Present, to be eager and desirous of the Future; extravagantly to commend and extol Things and Times that are past.  
They are credulous and busy, apt to entertain and pick up all manner of News, but especially such as is ill and disastrous; and whatever they hear reported, they take it for granted must needs be true; Let a Man but come provided with some fresh Story, and give it out that it is so, and he shall whistle them together as thick as Swarms of Bees at the tinkling of a Brass-Pan.  
They are Injudicious, Unreasonable, Indiscreet; All their Wisdom and Judgement is perfect Chance, Cross or Pile, Even or Odd; They speak their Mind, and determine with great Positiveness and Fierceness; and are always stiff and peremptory in it. And all this while it is not any Opinion of their own, but that of other People; for they take all upon Trust, follow the Vogue and common Cry, are born away by Custom and Numbers, and run like Sheep; because they are led, and others have gone before them; not because the Thought is reasonable, or the Thing true in itself. 
Tacit.  
* Plebi non Judicium, non Veritas. Ex Opinione multa, ex Veritate pauca judicat.  There is no such thing as Judgement or Truth to be met with among the Vulgar; for they discern nothing. 
Cie  They are persuaded frequently by common Opinion, but very seldom by the Truth of the Thing.  
They are envious and malicious, Enemies to good Men, Despisers of Virtue; They look upon the Wealth and Prosperity, the Successes and Advancements of others, with a jealous and an evil Eye. They always take the weakest and the worst Side; give countenance to Knaves, and hate Persons of Honour and Quality, without knowing any manner of Reason for it, except that One, that they are higher and better than Themselves, more esteemed, and well spoken of.  
They are treacherous, false, and disloyal; they magnify every Report, enlarge and aggravate what is true, and make every thing Ten times more and greater than it really is: You never know where nor when to have them: The Promise or Fidelity of the Mobb, is like the Thought of a Child, born and gone in an Instant; They change, not only as their Interest changes, but are blown and carried about to every Quarter, with the next Blast of idle Report, or vain Surmise; and every Hour of the Day makes a new Alteration in their Opinions and Affections.  
They are eternally 
† Ingenio mobili, seditiosum, discordiosum, cupidum rerum novarum, quieti & otio adversum.  disposed to Mutiny and Faction, Troublesome, and fond of Change; 
Sallust.  mortal Enemies to Peace, and Order, and Concord; but especially, when they get any Body to Head or Led them on, for than they are insolent and insupportable. Like the Sea, which is smooth and calm by Nature, but when put into Agitation by the Winds, it swells, and curls, and foams, and roars; just so the Madness of the People is blown up, and bears down all with the impetuous Torrent. And again, Take off their Ringleaders, and they fall flat before you, are all in Disorder and Confusion, and quite dead with Fear, and Terror, and Astonishment; 
* Sine rect●re ●●●●eps, pavidus, socors; nil ausura Plebs Princip●● 〈◊〉.  Inconsiderate and Fearful, 
Tacit.  Cowardly and Dispirited.  
They countenance and support busy troublesome Fellows, and admire those most who are ever blaming, and disturbing the Administration of Affairs. Modesty passes with Them for Cowardice, and prudent Caution for Stupidity and Heaviness. On the contrary, Fierceness and blind Fury is commended and adored, under the specious, but false Titles, of Courage and Bravery. Those that have hot Heads, and itching Hands, are preferred by Them infinitely before Men of sound Judgement, that weigh things nicely, and never proceed but upon mature Deliberations. And flashy prating Coxcombs take more with them, than plain, reserved Persons, of solid and sober Sense.  
They have no regard at all for the public Good, nor for Virtue or Decency, but all their Thoughts centre in private and Personal Advantage; they look no higher nor farther than Themselves, and take up unaccountable Piques at Those that oppose their Profit. All their Diligence is mercenary, all their Zeal is sordid; nothing is so vile, but Profit will reconcile them to it. 
Tacit.  
† Privata cuique●in●ulatio, vile●decus publicum.  Every Man hath a private Spur within, and the Honour or Benefit of the Public is of no Regard or Concern with them.  
They are perpetually growling and repining at the Government; ready to burst with Discontent, and venting their supposed Grievances in all manner of insolent and base Language; aspersing Those that are set over them, and loading them with the most virulent Reproaches. Men of low Condition and small Fortune's comfort Themselves this way: It is almost the only Pleasure they find to speak ill of the Rich, and the Great; and This, not because they have any just Provocation, or reason so to do, but purely out of Envy and Ill-nature, which never suffers them to rest satisfied with their Governors, and the present Posture of Affairs.  
But they are all Talk and Froth; without Matter, without Reason; their Minds never advance, nor stir one step; their Tongues are always in Action, and never lie still. They are a sort of Monster, made up of nothing but Tongue; in at All, and know Nothing; prying into every thing, and yet blind, and see nothing; any thing pleases and makes them laugh, and any thing discontents and makes them cry. They are always in readiness for Mutiny and Rebellion, bluster, and swagger, and threaten; but these forward Men in Design and Discourse, take care to sleep in a whole Skin, and are the backwardest in Fight, and upon the Approach of Danger. For their Property is, to be always struggling to shake off their Yoke, and much better at trying for Liberty, than keeping it when they have it. 
Sallust. Tacit.  
† Procacia plebis Ingenia, Impigrae Linguae, Ignavi ●Animi.  The Temper of the Mobile, (say the Roman Historians very truly) is Sauciness and Insolence; their Tongues are fierce and talkative, their Courage when it comes to trial, Tameness and mere Nothing; and all the Bravery they put on, ends in empty Boasts and Bullying.  
They never know when to give over, but are always running into Extremes; absolute Strangers to Moderation and Decency. Either you have them cringing, and fawning, and descending to the vilest and basest submission of Slaves; or else insolent, and tyrannical, and domineering, beyond all Measure, beyond all Patience. They cannot endure the Rein when gently managed; nor be content to enjoy a reasonable Liberty, and such Indulgences and Terms as are fit for them; but are eternally either flying out, or falling under their Rider: Too confident, or too distrustful of their own Strength; too bold, or too tame; transported with Hope, or quite dispirited with Fear. They always bring Matters to this Issue, that if you do not make Them stand in awe of You, they will make You stand in awe of Them. When once you have humbled and terrified Them sound, you may give them a Bit and a Knock, put out their Eyes, trample upon their Necks; nothing is so reproachful, but they will bear it. But if you do not show them the Rod, and make them sensible who is their Driver, they grow proud, and daring, and turbulent. There is no such thing as Ingenuity, or a Sense of good Usage to be expected from them; and hence comes that Proverb, commonly applied to those churlish Wretches, that grow upon Them, who treat them gently, and would win them by Favour and Kindness. Struck Him and he'll spurn You; spurn Him and he'll struck You. 
Tacit.  
* Nil in vulgo modicum, terrere nisi paveant, ubi pertimuerint impune contemni.  The Vulgar know no Mean; they affright unless they fear; and when they are in fear, they may be safely despised. 
Livy.  
† Audaciâ turbidum nisi vim metuat; aut servit humiliter, aut superbè dominatur; libertatem, quae media, nec spernere, nec habere.  They are troublesomly bold, when out of Apprehension of a stronger Hand; the humblest Servants, or the haughtiest Masters: But for Liberty and Moderation, they pretend to value them most, but know how to practise and enjoy them least.  
They are scandalous more especially for Ingratitude to their best and most generous Benefactors. The Thanks and Recompense which those Great Men have generally met with, that expended their Blood, and Treasure, and Labours in the Service of the Public, and have deserved most at their Hands, are Banishment, or Disgrace; an open Accusation, or a general Calumny; a Conspiracy, or an untimely Death. Histories both Sacred and Profane furnish infinite Instances, and are more full of no One thing, than celebrated Examples of this kind. Moses, and all the Prophets; Socrates, Aristides, Photion, Lycurgus, Demosthenes, Themistocles, and many other venerable Names in Antiquity, are lasting indelible Monuments of this base Disposition. Nay, Truth itself told the Jews, 
Matt. xxiii  that not any of Them who made it their Business to promote the Happiness and Salvation of that People, had escaped the Malice and Violence of Them or their Forefathers. But quite contrary, those that oppress, and keep them under, they cherish and make much of; fear and admire all they do; when the loss of Power and Freedom hath depressed their Minds, and made them slavish too.  
In short; The Mob is a savage Beast; all its Thoughts are Vanity, its Opinions and Assertions erroneous and false; the Good is commonly rejected and condemned, the Evil approved and applauded by them. The Commendations they give are infamous, and their Projects and Undertake, Folly. For Seneca hath told us long since, that 
* Non tam bene cum rebus humanis geritur, ut meliora pluribus placeant; Argumentum pessimi turba est.  Matters are not so well with Mankind, as that most Voices should be on the best side. For the common Crowd is a shrewd Argument that what is so liked is very bad. In short, the Rabble is the Mother of Ignorance, Injustice, Inconstancy, an Adorer of Vanity; and the studying to please them can never turn to true Account. They give indeed for their Motto, The Voice of the People is the Voice of God: But we may say very truly, The Voice of the People is the Voice of Foolish and Mistaken Men. And one of the first Principles of Wisdom, is to wash one's Hands, and get quite dispossessed of all popular and general Opinions, and to proceed clearly, and without any manner of Byass or Prejudice, in our Inquiries after Truth and Virtue. This will be quickly illustrated in our Second Book; toward which we are now drawing on apace.    

The Fourth Distinction of Men, taken from their different Professions, Circumstances, and Manner of Living.  

PREFACE.  
WE are now about to take another Difference between Some Men and Others, into Consideration; which depends upon their different Professions, Conditions, and Ways of Life. Some follow a Life of Business and Company; Others avoid This, and make their Escape out of the World, by running into Solitude. Some are fond of Arms and a Camp; Others hate and abhor them: Some have their Substance in Common; Others have their own distinct Properties. Some are fond of Offices and Employments, and would fain live in public, and be conspicuous in the World; Others decline These when they might have them, and affect to live privately and unobserved. Some are absolute Courtiers to every Body, and upon all Occasions; Others regard and make court to nothing but Themselves. Some prefer the Diversions of the Town, and Others the Pleasures of the Country. It is not easy, nor is it indeed at all necessary and pertinent to our present Purpose, that I should take upon me to determine which of all these Men is most to be commended for the Wi●dom of his Choice; for every one of these ways of Living hath its Advantages and Disadvantages; some particular Good, and some Evil, that attends, and is not to be separated from it: That which would be much more worth our Consideration and Pains, is to inform each of These in his Duty; for the main Point of all is, that this Choice be wisely made, and so as may suit best with every one's Temper and Abilities; and then after he hath chosen, that the Man be instructed how to make himself the most easy under it, and to make the best Improvement of it that the Case will bear. This must be our Business hereafter; but at present we will say just one single Word of each of these Conditions, and compare them a little with one another. Only permit in the first place, that I make some short Observations upon That Life which is common to Men in all Capacities, and which may be distinguished into Three Sorts or Degrees.   

CHAP. LIII. The Three Sorts or Degrees of Life, as it is common to the Generality of Men, distinguished and compared together.  
IT is easy to observe Three distinct Sorts, and as it were Degrees of Life, common to Men in general. One Private, in which every Man is unavoidably concerned; for by this I mean only what passes with each Man's Self, within, and in regard to his Own Breast. The Second is Domestic, in one's Own House and Family, with regard to what passes at Home, and in our ordinary Course of Affairs. The Third is Public, and respects what is exposed to the common View of the World. In the First of these there is no manner of Restraint; in the Second no Pains or Study to recommend one's Behaviour, as being not accountable for our Own Management to Them that live under our Own Roof and Government; but all the Reserve, and Artifice, and Dissimulation is in a manner appropriated to the last of These. Now it is much more difficult to be regular and exact in the first of these Degrees, than in either of the other; and the Examples of Persons that are, or have been so, have been infinitely fewer; and so in proportion the Case stands with the Second too, in comparison of the Third sort. The Reason is obvious and evident. For where there is no body to judge, or control, or countermand; nay, where there is not so much as a Spectator to observe our Actions; where we have no apprehension of Punishment for doing amiss, no expectation of Reward for doing well, we are much more remiss and careless in our Behaviour. Reason and Conscience are here the only Guides we have to follow; and although These may be some Check, yet that is not comparable to the Restraints we feel, when placed in open View, and made the common Mark of All, who must needs see, and will take a Freedom of censuring our Actions. Applause and Glory, fear of Scandal and Reproach, or some other Passion of the like Nature, are much more powerful Motives; these carry and manage us after a very different manner. (And indeed the greatest part of Mankind are more governed by Passions of this Nature, than by any strict Sense of Duty, and regard to Virtue) These put us upon our Guard, and teach us Prudence upon force. And from the Influence of These it is, that many People have the Reputation of Holy and Excellent Persons; and behave Themselves as such in the Eye of the World; who yet in reality, and at the bottom, are mere Hypocrites, stark nought, and rotten at the Core, and have not one commendable Quality belonging to them. What passes before Men is all Farce and Counterfeit; we put it on for Convenience, and are concerned to appear thus to the Spectators; but the Truth of us is concealed, and the Man can have no true Judgement made of him, but from what he does in private and alone. We must see him in his constant and every-day's Dress, and strip him of those Ornaments that set him off when he comes abroad: We must know his Temper and his usual Deportment, for all the rest is Fiction and Constraint. 
* Universus mundus exercet histrioniam.  All the World are Actors, and play their Parts to please the Audience. And it was well observed by a Wise Man, That none are good, except such as are so inwardly, and by Themselves: And that Virtue is always the same; as cautious, as prudent upon the account of Conscience, as it is in Obedience to the public Laws and Customs of the World; as fearful of offending one's own Self, and as careful to avoid the Condemnation of one's own Breast, when no Eye sees us, as it is of the Observation and Reproaches of all Mankind. Public Actions, such as Exploits in War, delivering an Opinion in Senate or Council, discharging an Embassy, governing a Nation, or the like, are bright and loud; every body sees, every body hears of them; and therefore These are performed with all possible Diligence and Circumspection; but such Private and Domestic ones, as Chiding, Laughing, Selling and Buying, Borrowing and Paying, and Conversing with our own Families, and most intimate Acquaintance, are silent and dark; they make no Noise, fear no Discovery, and are therefore thought worthy very little, or not any Attention or Consideration at all. Nay, we are sometimes scarce so much as sensible of them when we do them. And if in These, Men be so unthinking, a little Reflection will soon convince us, that they are infinitely more so, in Those yet more secret and merely internal; such as Loving, Hating, Desiring, of which none is or can be conscious, but their own Minds.  
There is one Thing more, fit to be observed upon this Occasion, and a very sad and wicked Thing it is (viz.) That Men, being depraved by a kind of Hypocrisy, natural to them, have taught Themselves and Others to make a greater Conscience, and be infinitely more Scrupulous and concerned, for their outward Behaviour; (which consists in Show, and Form, and is perfectly free and at their own Disposal, of no Consequence in the World, but all over Set-Countenance and Ceremony, Things of no real Difficulty, and as little Substance and Effect) than they are for inward Miscarriages, or private Actions; (such as are buried in Secrecy, and make no Figure, but yet are highly Expedient and Necessary, very Valuable in Themselves, and therefore very Difficult) For upon these Last, the Reforming of our Souls, the Moderating of our Passions, and the Regulating our whole Life and Conversation depends. And yet the Former are not only preferred before them in our Care and Concern, but the Matter is so ordered, that even They who find themselves well disposed, will by constant Study and Solicitude to discharge those outward Actions punctually, degenerate into Formality of course, and by insensible Degrees grow Cold, and Negligent, in their Regard for the others.  
Now, of all these Sorts, it is plain, that the Men (as Hermits for Instance) who live in perfect Solitude, and have but One of these Three, That of the Internal and most private Life only to take Care of, are upon better Terms, and have an easier Task to discharge, than Those that have Two; and so likewise he that hath the Domestic Care added to the former, and so lies under a Duty in Two Capacities, is exposed to less Difficulty than the Persons of a Public Life and Character, upon whom the Care of all the Three Degrees is incumbent.   

CHAP. LIV. A Life of Company and Business, compared with one of Retirement and Solitude.  
THey that upon all Occasions recommend and cry up a Solitary Life, are so far certainly in the Right, that it is an Excellent Means of Ease and Quiet; a sure Retreat from the Hurry and Troubles of the World; a very proper and effectual Defence against the Vices and Extravagances of a profligate Age; which are commonly propagated by Infection and Example; and are very likely to Spread and Reign, where much the greater Part of those we converse with, are already tainted with the Disease. For not One in a Thousand is Virtuous and Good; the Number of Fools is Infinite, and the thicker the Crowd, the greater the Danger. Thus far, I say, they have Reason on their Side; for ill Company is certainly one of the most fatal and ensnaring Things in the World; and that, not only in Regard of the Corruption, but of the Punishment and Vengeance it exposes Men to. Accordingly we may observe how very careful Men that went to Sea, used to be, that no Blasphemer or profane Person should embark in the same Vessels, no profligate, wicked Wretch to endanger their Safety, or render their Vo●age Disastrous or Unsuccesful. One single Ionas you see, whom God was Angry with, had like to have lost all the Ship's Crew: And Bias, when some wicked Wretches called upon their Gods in a Storm, made them this ingenious Reproof by way of Raillery, Hold your Peace, that they may not discover such vile Wretches as you are on board. Albuquerque, who was Viceroy of the Indies under Emanuel, King of Portugal, when in extreme Danger, laid hold on a young Boy, and clung fast to him, that so his Innocence might be a Shelter and Sanctuary to him, against the Wrath of God. So beneficial hath Virtue been esteemed, and so destructive Vice, not only to the Guilty, or the Vicious Persons themselves, but to all that are concerned with them, or come within the Reach of their Influence.  
But yet to esteem a Life thus retired and at a Distance from Evil, absolutely the Best, and most Excellent; to think it better qualified than any other, for the Exercise and Perfection of Virtue; to call it more Difficult and Unpleasant, more Laborious and Painful than any other, as some who extol a voluntary renouncing the World, would fain persuade us to believe, is a mighty Error in themselves, or a gross Cheat upon other People. For, quite contrary, it is the most effectual Expedient of throwing off the Cares and troublesome Encumbrances of Life, and rendering it light and easy; and to say the very Best of it, is but a very mean and moderate Attainment, an imperfect Beginning, or rather a mere Disposition to be Virtuous. It is, not to meddle with Business, to abandon Difficulties and Troubles; But how is this done? It is not by engaging with, and bravely overcoming them, but by cowardly running away, declining the Combat, and hiding one's self from them. It is to play least in Sight, and be buried alive, for fear we should not live well when we are seen. No Doubt is to be made, but a Prince, a Magistrate, or Parochial Priest, are more perfect, more valuable, when Good in their kind, than Monks and Hermits: For in truth, such Societies and Seminaries were only designed to prepare Men for Dignities and Business; to qualify them for Society and the World. And Colleges and Cloisters do not give, but only lead Men to Usefulness and Perfection. He that maintains his Post in the World, and satisfies the Duty which the several Relations and Capacities he stands in require from him; that converses with Wife, and Children, and Servants, and Neighbours, and Friends; that manages his own Estate, and engages in Business fit for his Condition; He, I say, that undertakes to act so many different Parts, and to answer the several Characters as becomes him, hath incomparably more Work upon his Hands, and is infinitely more Valuable, if he perform it, than the Recluse, who is determined to one single thing, and hath only the Duty to himself to take care of. For Company and Variety of Conversation is infinitely more hazardous, than Solitude; and Plenty much harder to manage than Want. In a State of Abstinence, and Freedom from Business, a Man hath but one Pass to guard; in the Use and Management of several Things, many Considerations must be attended to, many Duties discharged, and he lies open to Attacks from several Quarters at once. And there is no Doubt in the World to be made, but a Man may much more easily conquer Himself to disclaim and refuse Riches, and Honours, great Offices and gainful Preferments, than he can govern himself in the Use, or come off with Virtue and just Commendation in the Discharge of them. It is no very difficult Matter to live without a Wife, but to live with a Wise, and behave one's self in all Respects, as a Husband ought to do; to order and educate Children, and bear due Regard, and make fit Provisions for a Family, and all its Dependencies; is a Task Men seldom give themselves the trouble to consider. But They that do, and make a right Judgement of it, will be very far from extolling Caelibacy, as some do, or think it an Argument of higher Virtue, or a State of greater Difficulty than Marriage.  
2. Nor are Men less mistaken, when they suppose that Solitude is a safe Shelter from all manner of Vice; and that He, who takes Sanctuary in it, and sequesters himself from the World, rides in Harbour, and is out of the Reach of Tempests and Temptations; for These find a way to pursue, and overtake us even There. This is indeed a Convenient Retreat from the Corruptions of ill Company; from the Clutter and Crowd of Cares and Business, and the Mischiefs that threaten and come upon us from Without; but there are other Enemies and Dangers from Within, which we always carry about us, and cannot run away from, Spiritual and Internal Difficulties, Domestic and peculiar Evils; and the Scripture takes express Notice, that the Wilderness was the Place, where our Saviour was Assaulted, and Tempted by the Devil. Retirement is a dangerous Weapon in the Hands of Young Men; such as are Hot and Imprudent, Rash and Unskilful; and there is great Reason to fear, that, what Crates said to a Young Man whom he found walking all alone, is generally true of such Persons; and that such, when they are by Themselves, are in very bad Company. This is the Place where Fools lay their wicked Projects; here they find Leisure and Opportunities for contriving their own Ruin; here they cherish and indulge unlawful Desires; file, and polish, and refine upon their own Passions, without Observation, without Control. A Man had need be very Wise, to know how to make the best Use of Privacy; watchful and well fortified, before he is fit to be trusted with Himself; For many times one's Own Hands, are the very Worst he can be put into. It is an excellent Petition, which the Spaniards use, even to a Proverb, 
* Guarda mi, Dios de mi. Nemo est ex imprudentibus, qui sibi relinqui debeat. Solitudo omnia persuadet.  O Lord, I beseech thee, preserve me from Myself. Very few indeed, have discretion enough to be left to Themselves, and nothing is so bad, but Secrecy and Solitude, are powerful Temptations to comply with it. But for Men to take up their Heels, and skulk in a Corner, upon any Private and Personal Consideration, though it be a lawful and commendable one in itself, which yet is the best, and not always the Truth of the Case (for very often Cowardice, and Weakness of Spirit, Peevishness and Pets, or some other discontented or vicious Passion is at the Bottom of all this pompous and pretended Contempt of the World) is to turn Deserter, and not dare to stand to our Arms. There is a mighty Difference between forsaking the World, and falling out with it; between conquering, and not hazarding our Persons in the Engagement. And when Men are in a Capacity of becoming beneficial to Others, and may be Instruments of Great and General Good, to excuse Themselves from serving the Public, and abandon all Society when they might adorn and be useful in it, is to betray their Trust, to bury their Talon in a Napkin; to hid the Candle, which God hath lighted, under a Bushel, when the setting it on a Candlestiks, might enlighten others, and do great Service to all that are in the House. It requires then much Deliberation, and many uncommon Circumstances, to give Men a Right thus to dispose of Themselves. And they who presume to do it merely out of private Considerations, and make the Public no part of their Concern, are so far from deserving to be applauded for their Virtue and Resignation, that they are guilty of a great Fault, and liable to very just and severe Censure.   

CHAP. LV. A Life in Common, compared with That of distinct Properties.  
SOme Persons have been of Opinion, that a Life, where all Things are in Common, and there is no such Distinction as Mine or Thine, hath the greatest Tendency to Perfection, and is best accommodated for the cherishing and maintaining of Charity and Concord, and Union among Men. But Experience shows us daily, that whatever Conveniencies it may really have of this kind, yet are they not so great, nor so effectual to the Purposes beforementioned, as those Persons have imagined. For in the first Place, whatever Appearance there may be outwardly of Kindness and good Agreemeent, yet there is no such Thing as an entire and hearty Affection, nor the same tender Regards for That which is in Common, as a Man finds where he alone is concerned. To this purpose it is, that we have two Proverbs, The College Horse is always ill saddled, and Every Body's Business, is No Body's Business. Men consider, that Others are equally concerned in the Care, and in the Damage; that the Loss is not immediately their own, and that each Member of the Society stands in that respect equally related to them, and that begets a Coldness and Indifferency among them. But, which is a great deal worse, this State does naturally produce Quarrels and Discontents, Murmuring and mutual Hatred; every Community is but too full a Demonstration of it, and the very Holiest and Best that ever was, the Primitive Church itself, could not, you see, be exempted from the Misfortune. For, though the Institution design all Things should be equal, yet unless you could make the Desires of the Persons so too, they will always be full of Complaints, and Jealous, that some are preferred, and others neglected; 
Acts vi.  like the Grecians and their Widows in the Daily Distributions. The Nature of Love, is like that of Great Rivers; which, while they continue united in one Stream are Navigable, and carry Vessels of Vast Burden; but if you cut them into fresh Channels, and divide the Water, they are no longer Serviceable in that kind; and thus, when Men's Affections are divided, and parted, as it were among a great many Objects, not any one of those Persons or Things is of very tender Concern; for all the Force and Vigour of the Passion is scattered and broke to Pieces. Now, in a Life of Community, there are several Degrees; To live, that is, to eat and drink together at a common Table, is very decent and well, (Thus we find it practised in some of the best and most ancient Commonwealths, as Lacedaemon and Crete particularly) such public Meals are very useful for the teaching Men to be Modest and reserved, and keeping up Discipline, Society, and Good Order; and they do also minister occasion for great variety of very useful and improving Discourse. But to think of pulling up the Fences and Enclosures, and lay all in Common, is a wild Imagination. Plato was once of this Opinion, but he thought better of it afterwards. And indeed the Project would be so far from reconciling and uniting All, that the certain Consequence of it would be to overturn and confound All.   

CHAP. LVI. A Town and a Country Life compared together.  
THis is a Comparison very easy for any Man who is a true Lover of Wisdom, to make; for almost all the Advantages lie on one side. The Pleasures and Conveniences both of Body and Mind, Liberty, Contemplation, Innocence, Health, and Delight. In the Country a Man's Mind is free and easy; discharged, and at his own Disposal: But in the City the Persons of Friends and Acquaintance, one's own and other People's Business, foolish Quarrels, ceremonious Visits, impertinent Discourse, and a Thousand other Fopperies and Diversions steal away the greatest part of our Time, and leave no Leisure for better and more necessary Employment. What infinite Perplexities, Avocations, Distractions of the Mind, and, which is worst of all, what abominable Debaucheries, and Depravation of Manners does such a Life expose Men to? Great Towns are but a larger sort of Prisons to the Soul, like Cages to Birds, or Pounds to Beasts. This Celestial Fire within us will not endure to be shut up, it requires Air to brighten and make it burn clear; which made Columella say, that a Country Life is Cousin-German to Wisdom: For a Man's Thoughts cannot be idle; and when they are set lose from the World, they will range and expatiate freely in noble and profitable Meditations. But how shall a Man hope to command his Thoughts, or pretend to call them his Own, in the midst of all the Clutter, and Business, the Amusements, nay the Confusions of the Town? A Country Life is infinitely more plain, and innocent, and disposed to Purity and Virtue. In City's Vice assembles in Troops; the very Commonness of it makes it unobserved; it hardens and reconciles us to the Practice, Example, and Custom; and the meeting with it at every Turn, makes the thing familiar; and thus the Disease seizes us strongly and presently, and we are gone all on the sudden, by living in the midst of the Insection. Whereas in the Country, those things are seen or heard with Abhorrence and Amazement, which the Town sees and does every Day without Remorse or Concern. As for Pleasure and Health, the clear Air, the Warmth and Brightness of the Sun, not polluted with the Sultry Gleams, and loathsome Stenches of the Town; the Springs and Waters, the Flowers and Groves, and, in short, All Nature is free, and easy, and gay; The Earth unlocks her Treasures, refreshes us with her Fruits, feasts every Sense, and gives us such Entertainment, as Cities know nothing of, in the stifling press of Houses; so that to live there, is to shut one's self up, and be banished from the World. Besides all this, a Country Retirement is more active, and sit for Exercise; and this creates an Appetite, preserves and restores Health and Vigour, hardens the Body, and makes it lusty and strong. The greatest Commendation of the Town is, Convenience for Business and Profit. It is indeed the Seat of Trade and private Gain, and therefore fit to be the Darling of Merchants and Artificers: And it is the Place accommodated to Public Administrations; but this latter but a very small part of Mankind are called to, or capable of. And History tells us, that heretofore excellent Persons were fetched out of the Country, to undertake Affairs of the greatest Importance; and assoon as they had finished these, they retired again with wonderful Delight, and made the Town not a Matter of Choice, but Necessity and Constraint: This was the short Scene of Labour and Business to them; but the Country was the Seat of their Pleasure, and more constant Residence.   

CHAP. LVII. Of a Military Life.  
THE Profession and Employment of a Soldier, if we respect the Cause and Original Design of it, is very worthy and honourable; for it pretends to protect the Safety, and promote the Grandeur of one's native Country; to preserve it in Peace, and guard it from the Insults of Enemies abroad, and turbulent Spirits at home; than which nothing can be more just, nothing more universally beneficial. It is also noble and great in the Execution of this Design: For Courage, which is its proper Quality and Character, is the bravest, most generous, most Heroic of all Virtues; And of all Humane Actions and Exploits, Those of War are the most celebrated and pompous; insomuch that the Titles and Ensigns of Honour, borrow their Names from, and are assigned as Rewards to Them. It hath also many Pleasures peculiar to it; the Conversation of Men of the first Quality, in heat of Youth, and full of Fire and Activity; the being familiarly acquainted with strange Accidents, and wonderful entertaining Sights; freedom of Behaviour, and Converse without Trick or Art; a Masculine and hardy way of living, above Ceremony or Form; Variety of Attempts and Successes: The moving Harmony of warlike Music, which entertains the Ears, charms all the Senses, warms the Soul, and inspires it with Valour; the Gracefulness of Motion and Discipline, that transport and delight us with a pleasing Horror; that Storm of Shouts and Alarms, which the louder it grows, the more ravishing and animating it is; and the roaring Ordinance of so many Thousand Men that fall on with incredible fury and eagerness.  
But when all These, and as many more Excellencies as its most zealous Patrons can attribute to this Calling, have been allowed, every reasonable Man must acknowledge on the other hand, that the Plundering, Undoing, Murdering one another, and especially the making These a Matter of Art, and Study; a Science and a Commendation, seems highly unnatural, and the effect of Barbarity and Madness. Nothing is a stronger Evidence against Mankind, of their Weakness, and Imperfection, and foul Degeneracy; for it sets us below the very Brutes themselves, in the most savage of which the Original Impressions of Nature are not defaced to this scandalous Degree. What an infinite Folly, what an execrable Rage is it, to create all this Disturbance, and turn the World upside-down, to encounter and run through so many Hazards by Sea and Land, for a Prize so very doubtful and full of Chance, as the event of a Battle? Why should we make Campaigns abroad, and turn Volunteers to foreign Princes, to run with so much eagerness and appetite after Death, (which may be found, nay which of its own accord meets us at home, and offers itself every where) and that without proposing to ourselves so much as decent Burial? To fall on, and kill Men that we have no Spite, no Resentment against; nay, Men that are absolute Strangers, and whom we never saw in all our Lives? Why this mighty Heat and Fury, to one that hath done thee no hurt, given thee no provocation? What a Madness is it to venture Loss of Limbs and Blood, Wounds and Bruises, which when they do not take Life quite away, make it subject to Remedies and Pains a Thousand times more grievous and insupportable than Death? Had you Obligations of Duty and Conscience, it were another Matter; but to do this for Breeding and Fame; to sacrifice and destroy one's self for a Man that you never saw, who hath no manner of Tenderness or Concern for you; and only strive● to mount upon the dead or maimed Body, that he may stand a little higher, and enlarge his own Prospect; Nothing but very weighty Reasons, and the necessary Defence of all that is dear to us, can make such an Undertaking prudent and commendable: And in such Cases all personal Considerations ought to be despised as much as otherwise they are fit to be valued. And I hope too, the Reader takes notice all along, that I speak of those who choose the Trade for Mercenary Ends, or out of false Notions of Gallantry; and not with any intention to discourage the Duty of Subjects to their Prince, whose just Quarrels they ought always to account their Own.    

The Fifth and Last Difference between Some Men and Others; taken from the Advantages and Disadvantages, by which Nature or Fortune hath distinguished them.  

PREFACE.  
THis Last Distinction is abundantly notorious, and visible to every Eye; It hath indeed several Branches and Considerations included under it; but all I think may be conveniently enough reduced to Two General Heads; which, according to the vulgar way of Expression, may be termed, Happiness and Unhappiness; being High or Low in the World. To that of Happiness or Greatness, belong Health, Beauty, and other Qualifications and Advantages of Body and Person, Liberty, Nobility, Honour, Authority, Learning, Riches, Reputation, Friends. In Unhappiness or Meanness of Condition are comprehended the Contraries of all These, which, without naming particularly, we easily understand to be the privation or want of the foremention'd Advantages. Now these Particulars are the occasion of infinite variety in Men's Circumstances and Conditions of Life; for a Man may be happy in the Enjoyment of One, or Two, or Three of these Qualities, and yet not so in the rest; and even in Those he hath, he may be happy in a greater or less Degree; and those Degrees are capable of being so many, that it is not easy, if at all possible, to express or conceive them. But upon the whole Matter, in the Distribution and Disposal of our Fortunes and Affairs, Providence hath so ordered it, that Few or None should be either happy or unhappy in every one of these Respects. He than that partakes of most, and particularly those Three Advantages, of Nobility, Dignity or Authority, and Riches, is esteemed Great; and he that hath none of those Three is reckoned among the mean Men. But several Persons have only One or Two of the Three; and so they stand in a sort of middle Capacity, between the two Extremes, and are neither High nor Low. We will speak very briefly to each of them.  
As for Health and Beauty, 
Chap. VI Chap. X  and other Advantages that relate to the Body and Persons of Men, enough hath been said of them already; and so likewise of Sickness and Pain, which are Disadvantages contrary to them.   

CHAP. LVIII. Of Liberty and Servitude.  
LIberty passes in the Esteem of many for a most eminent Advantage, and Servitude for a very grievous Evil; so exceeding great, that some have rather chosen to Die, and that after a very barbarous and painful manner, than to be made Slaves or Captives; nay, rather than come into any danger of seeing their own, or their country's Freedom and Properties infringed, or usurped upon. But as in all Other Cases of the like Nature, so in This also, there may be a very Criminal Excess of Partiality, and a fanciful Fondness of what we deservedly have a high esteem for. There is in truth a Twofold Liberty: The true and proper sort is That of the Mind; for This is in every Man's own Keeping and Disposal, no body can wrest it out of our Hands, nothing can impair or encroach upon it, not even the Tyranny of Fortune itself. On the other side, The Bondage of the Mind is the heaviest, and most wretched of all others; to live a Slave to one's Appetites and Lusts; to lie down in our Chains, and let our Passions pray upon us; to be led by the Nose by Prejudice, and Error, and Superstition: Oh This! This is a miserable Captivity indeed. The Liberty of one's Person is really valuable, but still that lies at the Mercy of Fortune. And as valuable as it is, yet (unless it be attended with some very uncommon Circumstance to enhance its Worth) there can never be Justice or Reason in giving it the Preference above Life itself; as some of the Ancients have done, who chose to suffer, nay, to inflict Death, and make it the Work of their Own Hands upon Themselves, rather than not die free: And even of this (to me seeming) Extravagance we find large Commendations, as if it were a more exalted Virtue than ordinary, so very dreadful Notions had they then of Slavery. 
* Servitus obedientia est fracti & abjecti Animi, arbitrio carentis suo.  It is (says One of them) the Obedience of an enfeebled and despicable Soul, that hath parted with its own Will. And yet as vile as they represent this State, very great and very Wise Men have lived in it; as Regulus, Valerian, Plato, Epictetus; and have had the Misfortune too of very wicked, unjust, and barbarous Masters; and yet they have never brought any dishonourable Reflections upon their Virtues, or thought Themselves one whit the worse for it, because in truth and very deed, they still continued Free, and at their own Disposal; much more so than the Masters, who pretended to Dominion over them.   

CHAP. LIX. Of Nobility.  
NObility is a Quality or Distinction received and valued in all parts of the World: It is a Mark and an Attractive of Honour and Respect, instituted and brought into Use for very good Reasons, and much to the Benefit of the Public.  
It is not every where the same; but differently reputed, and taken in divers Senses, 
Description of it.  according to the different Judgements of Men, and the Customs of the Countries where they live. From hence we find several Sorts or Species of it pretended to; but according to the common and most general Notion of the thing, it is the Quality of a Man's Family. Aristotle calls it, the Antiquity of the Family, and the long Continuance of an Estate in it. Plutarch terms it the Virtue of the Family; meaning by this, some certain Character, and particular good Quality, for which our Ancestors were eminent, and which hath been propagated in Succession, and is continued in the several Descendants of that House. Now what this Quality is in particular, which should merit such a Distinction, hath not been agreed on all hands. Some, and indeed the greater part, will have it to be Achievements in War; others add, or equal to this, Politic and Civil Prudence; whereby Men become necessary to the State by their Counsels, as the former do in the Field: To These have likewise been added Eminence in Learning, and particular Offices in the Courts of Princes, as Accomplishments thought fit and sufficient to distinguish a Man's Family, and deriv● Honour down upon Those that descend from him. But I think it must be acknowledged by all considering Persons, that the Military Honours have the Advantage, and deserve a Preference above all the rest, both because the Qualities of this kind are most serviceable to the State in its greatest Exigencies and Distresses; and because it is the most painful and laborious, and exposes Men's Persons to the greatest and most apparent Dangers. From whence it is, that a particular Veneration and Respect, a louder Applause and Commendation is allowed universally to Them; and that These by way of Eminence and Privilege, have attained to that distinguishing Character of Valour or Worth. Now according to this Opinion, Two things are necessary, and must both contribute as Ingredients to the Composition of that which is the True and Perfect Nobility. First, There must be the Profession and Appearance of this Virtue or good Quality serviceable to the Public, and this is as it were the Form; and then there must be the Family, in which, as in the Matter or proper Subject, this Quality is inherent; that is, there is required a long uninterrupted Continuation of it, through several Descents, and Time out of mind. Hence, according to the vulgar Jargon, they are styled Gentlemen, that is, Persons who are Branches and Descendants of the same Blood, and House; Bearing the same Name, and the same Profession of this distinguishing Quality, for several Generations. That Person than is truly, properly, and entirely Noble, who makes singular Profession of some Public Virtue; that renders himself useful and remarkable in the Service of his Prince and his Country; and is sprung from Relations and Ancestors, who have done the same before him, in the respective Ages when they lived.  
Some, it is true, have separated these two Qualifications, and considered them apart; 
〈◊〉 guished.  as being of Opinion, that One of these singly, that is, Personal Virtue and Worth, without any Advantages of Birth, is sufficient to entitle a Man to this Honour. They think it hard that Men should be excluded, merely upon consideration of their Ancestors wanting the Excellencies, which they have rendered Themselves conspicuous for. Now This is a Personal and Acquired Nobility; and very valuable it is; but yet the Vogue and Custom of the World hath so far obtained, that They think it very hard too, for the Son of a Cobbler, a Butcher, or a Plough Man, to start up Noble, and be ranked among the most Ancient Honours, let his Service to the Public have been never so great and valuable. But yet this Opinion hath got good booting in several Nations, and particularly among the ●urks. For they have no regard at all to a Man's ●lood, the Nobility of his Ancestors, or the Antiquity of his Descent; They look upon These Considerations to be full of unreasonable Partiality, Cheques and Discouragements to Men's bravery; and therefore, to cherish the Inclinations of doing ●●●●ously, they lay the whole Stress upon Personal Performances and Accomplishments; and particularly upon Actual Courage, and those Excellencies that are purely Military. The other  of this Distinction, is That which consists in the 〈◊〉 of a Man's Family only, where the Pre●●en●●●●s to Nobility are merely upon the account of his 〈◊〉 without any Profession of such a Quality as w●● before mentioned and explained; and this is a Nobility which runs in the Blood, and is purely Natural.  
If we would state the Comparison between These Two Sorts thus divided, and each imperfect, 
Of Natural Nobility.  when single and by itself, That which is purely Natural cannot but appear to any Man of sound Judgement, the less worth and more defective of the Two, tho' a great many People think, or at least express themselves, otherwise upon the Matter: But it is the effect of most egregious Folly, or insufferable Vanity so to do. The Natural is an Accomplishment entirely another's, and not in any Degree one's own. 

* 
Genus & Proavos, & quae non fecimus ipsi,  
Vix ea nostra voco.  Ovid. 
Nemo vixit in gloriam nostram; nec quod ante nos fuit, nostrum est.   For Ancestors Divine Original,  
And Deed not done by Us, we Ours miscall.  Sandys. No other Person hath lived for our Honour; nor ought that to be reputed Ours, which was, long before we had a Being; And what can be more senseless, than for a Man to look big, and to value Himself upon a thing which is none of His? This is what may happen to the most vicious and profligate, the most trifling and insignificant Wretch alive; it may be the Portion of Fools, and Knaves, and Villains. Nor is it of any manner of Use or Advantage to Others; It is not capable of being communicated to the profit of those with whom we have any Deal or Conversation; It contributes nothing of Pleasure or Satisfaction in Society, as Learning, and Justice, and Goodness, and Beauty, and Riches do, but is perfectly idle and fruitless. Those who have nothing else to recommend Them to the Respect of Others, but only This Nobility of Flesh and Blood, cry it up at a great rate, and have their Mouths perpetually full of it. They swell, and vapour, and you are sure to hear of their Families and great Relations every third Word. And indeed they do wisely, and as becomes them; for This is making the best of their last and only Stake. And by this Mark they commonly distinguish Themselves; for you may depend upon it, there is no good Bottom, nothing of true Worth of their own, when they insist so much, and rest their Credit upon that of other Men. But alas! this is all Vanity and Shadow, and their Glory will be as fleeting and frail, as that which the Prophet reproaches Ephraim with, when it arises from such mean and wretched Instruments, as from the Earth, 
Hosea ix. 11.  and from the Womb, and from the Conception; and lies all buried in Dust and Rubbish, underneath the Monuments of their Ancestors. These Men are like Criminals when they are hard pursued, that take sanctuary at the Altars and Sepulchers of the Dead; and in some former Ages, laid hold on the Statues of the Emperors for Refuge; so when they are beaten out from all Pretensions to true Merit and Honour, from any Qualifications properly their Own, they retreat behind the Banners and Achievements of their Forefathers, and make their last Recourse to Monuments, and Pedigrees, and Coats of Arms. But what Advantage can it be to a Blindman, that his Parents had good Eyes? Or how does it help the Infirmities of a Stammerer, that his Grandfather had a smooth and voluble Tongue? Does the former of These see one whit the better? or is the latter ever the more eloquent or intelligible for This? And yet they are the Men of Infirmities and great Defects, that are commonly your vain Boasters, haughty in their Deportment, insolent in Conversation, and treating with Contempt Men better than Themselves, because some body who is long since rotten in their Grave, was good in his Generation: So extremely absurd, and contrary to all the Rules of Equity and Common Sense, is this extravagant Notion of Nobility by Descent only. A Father by his Frugality and Prudence raised the Family; and therefore the Prodigal Son, who squanders all away, and beggars the Family, values himself upon the Prudence of his Father. A brave General deserved the first and best Promotion, and therefore his Great-Grandson, though a rank Coward, shall not only inherit his Titles and Estate, (in which there may be reason, because Men esteem Themselves rewarded by the Continuance of those external Forms and Honours to their Posterity) but this Coward, shall really think himself a better Man than another brave Fellow with whom he converses, because his Great-Grandfather was brave. And yet, as extravagant as this Folly is in itself, it will be, and always hath been Epidemical. For Sallust observed even in his Time, 
* Contemptor animus & superbia commune nobilitatis malum.  That Pride and a Disdainful Temper, was an Evil that usually went along with Quality and good Birth.  
As for that other kind of Nobility, which is Personal and Acquired, 
Acquired and Personal  the Condition of it is the very Reverse of the Former. It hath very excellent Qualities and Effects; It is peculiar to the Possessor; he hath a full and indisputable Title, and Merit hath made it all his Own: It cannot be dispensed promisevously, nor fall upon a Man that will be a Dishonour to it; and it is of infinite Benefit and Advantage to all who converse, or can any way come to be concerned with it. Nay, if we examine the Matter, it will be found that This hath the Advantage, even in the darling and so much-boa●ied Point of Antiquity too; and we are very far, by sad Experience, that it is much more rare and uncommon than the Natural. For from This it was, that the Natural first took its beginning; the so much celebrated Ancestors got their Nobility this way; and their degenerate Offspring are beholding to it in the Persons of Them, for all the Subject of their Vanity ever since. In short; This is real and substantial, it consists in Virtue, and Usefulness, and good Consequences to all Mankind; not empty, and dry, and a gay Idea; a Dream, and Creature of a deluded Imagination only: This proceeds from the Mind and the very Man, not from the Blood and Body; and Minds are the same; every whit as generous and great, and by Improvement and Industry frequently rendered more so in Others; tho' the Blood may differ, and not be Noble. 
* Quis generosus? Ad Virtutem à Naturà bene compositus, Animus facit nobilem, cui ex quàcunque conditione supra fortunam liceat surgere.  Who (says S●n●ca) is a Gentleman? The Man, whom Nature hath disposed, and as it were out out  Virtue; this Man is well born indeed: For the Man wants nothing else to make him Noble, who hath a Mind so generous, that be can rise above, and triumph over Fortune, let his Condition of Life be what it will.  
But these Two kinds dwell most amieably together, and often meet in the same Person, 
Both together.  (as indeed there seems a great Aptitude and Disposition for them to do) and when they centre thus in one Person, than the Nobility is perfect and complete. The Natural is an Introduction, an Occasion, a Spur to the Personal; for all things have a strong tendency, and very easily revere to their first and natural Principle. And as the Natural first took its Origine and Existence from the Personal, so it inclines and leads the Persons so descended to imitate, nay, to emulate the Glories of their Noble Progenitors. The Seeds of Virtue and Honour are in them already. 

* Forts creantur Fortibus & Bonis, etc. Horat. Ode 4. Lib. 4.  In Sons Their Father's Virtues shine,  
And Souls as well as Faces keep the Line.  This one Advantage is observable in being Nobly born, that it makes Men sensible they are allied to Virtue, and lays strong Obligations upon them not to degenerate from the Excellencies of their Ancestors. And sure there cannot be a more forcible Motive to spur and quicken Men in the pursuit of Glory, and the attempting Great and Noble Actions, than the being conscious to Themselves, that they are come out of the Loins of those very Persons, who have behaved themselves gallantly, served their King and Country, and been eminent and useful in their Generations. Is it possible Men can please Themselves with these Reflections to feed their Vanity, as it is manifest they do, and not think at the same time how vile and reproachful it is in Them, to bastardise and belly their Race, to serve only as a Foil to their Forefather's Virtues, and cast back Darkness and Disgrace upon the Lustre of their Memories?  
Nobility granted by the particular Patent, and partial Favour of a Prince, without any Merit to give a Title to it, and neither personal Accomplishments, nor an Ancient Family to support and set it off, is rather a Blemish and Mark of Shame, than of Honour. It is a poor, pitiful, Parchment-Nobility; bought to supply a needy King, or to feed a hungry Courtier; the Price of Silver and Gold, or the effect of Countenance and Access; not the purchase of Blood and Sweat, as such Honours ought to be. But if it be granted for any singular Desert, and signal good Services, than it falls not within the compass of this Notion; but is to be reputed personal and acquired, and hath a Right to all those Privileges and Commendations, which were said to belong to that sort of Nobility before.   

CHAP. LX. Of Honour.  
IT is the Notion of some, but a very mistaken Notion sure it is, That Honour is the proper Price and Recompense of Virtue. Others have a little corrected this Notion, by calling it, the Acknowledgement of Virtue in the Persons to whom we pay it, or the Prerogative of a good Opinion first, and then of those outward Respects, whereby we testify that good Opinion; for it is most certainly a Privilege that derives its Essence and Nature Principally from Virtue. Others call it Virtue's Shadow, which follows, or goes before it; as the Shadow does the Substance and Body from whence it is reflected. But, to speak more properly, it is the Splendour or Fame of brave and virtuous Actions, darted out from the Soul upon the Eyes of the World, and then rebounding back again upon ourselves, by that Demonstration it gives of what others think of us, and the mighty Satisfaction of the Mind resulting from this Sense of their Good Esteem.  
Now, Honour is so very highly esteemed, so very eagerly sought, that we generally balk no Difficulty to come at it. We endure any thing for its sake, despise every thing in Comparison of it; even Life itself is not thought a Purchase too Dear to compass it. And yet after All, This is but a thin, airy Business, uncertain and sickle; foreign and at some distance from the Person receiving it, and the things for which it is paid. It is not only not Essential to him, not any part or Appurtenance of his Person, and Substance, but it searce ever comes home to him. For generally speaking, this Deference is given to Persons either Absent or Dead; and if Living, it is not accounted good Manners to praise them to their Faces; so that it waits without, and belongs to a Man's Name only; which bears all his Commendations and Disgraces, his Scandal, and his Respects; from whence one is said to bear a Good or Wicked Name.  
Now, the Name is no part of the Nature of the Thing, but only the Image which gives us a Representation of it. A Mark of Distinction, to know it from other Things by: In a Word, somewhat that goes between the Essence of the Thing, and the Honour or Dishonour belonging to it. For it is applied to the Substance, and whatever is said of it, Good, or Fad, falls upon This; and is born by it. Now Honour, before it rests upon the Name fetches a kind of Circular Flight; and makes some stay upon the Action, the Heart and the Tongue. Whatever gallant, commendable Action is Achieved, is, as it were, the Root, the Source, the Parent which gives birth and Being to Honour; for i● truth, Honour is nothing else, but the Lustre and Resplendence of 〈◊〉 G●rious, or Benesicial, or otherwise, Noble Expl●●t. Whatever Perfection a Thing hath in itself, with Regard to its own Intrinsic Worth; yet if it do not produce some Effect, which is Excellent, it is not capable of Honour; but, to all Intents and Purposes of this kind, as if it had never been at all. The next Advance is made into the Mind, where it first gins to live, and is formed into good Opinions, and Venerable Esteem. Then it comes abroad in the last Place, and rides Triumphant upon Men's Tongues and Pens; and so reflects and returns back again, upon the Name of the Person, who did that Celebrated Action, from whence it first set out (As the Sun returns Daily to the Point from whence his Motion began,) and when it hath finished this Course, it from thenceforch carries the Name of Honour, Praise, Glory, Renown, or the like.  
But to what Sorts of Performances this Recompense is due, hath been a Question much disputed. Some Persons have delivered their Opinion, that Honour does not only, nor properly consist in a Man's behaving himself well, where great and difficult Posts are to be filled and managed by him (for every Man's Circumstances will not furnish him with Opportunities of weighty Administraions) but in the faithful Discharge of the Duties of each Person's particular Profession, be the Capacity of the Man what it will. For all Commendation is the Effect and Reward of a Man's performing commendably, that which is his proper Business to do. Thus we find Reason and Common Sense, determine us in public Theatres, which are but so many Images in little of this Great Theatre of the Universe. The Condition and Splendour of the Character is not enquired into, nor weighs at all with our Judgements; but He, who upon the Stage, plays the Part of a Servant or Bussoon, if he do it well, and to the Life, meets with as much Applause, as if he had represented a General, or an Emperor. And he that cannot work in Gold, if he show the Perfection of his Art, and carve the Postures and Proportions well, in Copper, or in Plaster, is reputed a good Statuary; because this Excellence depends not upon the Fineness or Value of the Materials, but in the Skill shown upon them. But yet it seems more reasonable to think, that Honour is an Advantage for something more Noble and Sublime than Ordinary; and that no Actions, but such only, which have Difficulty or Danger in them, can make just Pretensions to it. Those that are but just what they ought to be, such as our respective Stations require, and proceeding from a Sense of Obligation and Duty, cannot aspire to so great Worth, nor put in for so ample a Reward; a Reward which is disparaged by being made Common or Ordinary, and not suited to all Degrees of Persons and Performances. Thus every virtuous and chaste Wife, and every Man of Integrity and good Conduct, is not therefore a Person of Honour. For there must go more than Probity to the denominating them so; there must be Pains, and Difficulty, and Danger; nay, and, some will tell you, there must be somewhat of general Good, and Advantage to the Public, to justify that Character in its full and true Extent. Let a Man's Actions be never so Good, never so Useful, if they be private and the Advantage redound to himself alone, another sort of Payment belongs to them. They will have the Approbation of his own Conscience; they will procure the Love, and Favour, and good Word of his Neighbours and Acquaintance; they will ensure his Safety, and put him under the Protection of the Law; but except the Influence and Advantage of them be large and diffusive, they cannot come up to Honour; for Honour is a public Thing, and implies more of Dignity; and comprehends Splendour and Noise, Admiration, and Common Fame in the Nature and Notion of it. Others add farther, that an Honourable Action must not be a part of our Duty, but perfectly free and supererogating; for if Men were obliged to it, all pretention to Honour is lost.  
The Desire of Honour, and Glory, and a Solicitous seeking the Approbation and good Opinion of Others, is a very vicious, violent and powerful Passion. The Inordinacy whereof hath been sufficiently explained and proved already in the Chapter concerning Ambition. 
Chap. xxii.  But as Bad as it is in itself, it does great Service to the Public. For it restrains men's Extravangancies, and keeps them within the Bounds of Decency and Duty; it awakens their sleeping Powers, shakes off Sloth, and kindles in them generous Desires, inspires great Thoughts, and Glorious Actions. Not that it is much for their Credit to be acted and invigorated by so corrupt a Principle; but rather a Testimony and strong Evidence of the Weakness and Poverty of our Nature and Condition; who are thus forced to use and accept clipped and counterfeit Money in Payment, when Standard and true Sterling cannot be had. But for the Determining precisely in what Cases, and how far this Passion is excusable, and where it is to blame, and must be rejected and disallowed; and for the making it manifest, 
Book III. In the Virtue of Temperance, Ch. XLII.  that Honour is not the proper Recompense of Virtue, I must refer you to those Distinctions and Discourses upon it, which will occur hereafter.  
Of the Marks of Honour there is great Variety; but the most desirable and charming, are Those, where there are no Mixtures of private Gain and Interest; such as nothing can be drawn out of, nor any Share lie in Common, for the Advantage of a Vicious Man; or of such low and inferior People, as shall pretend to serve the Public by mean and dishonourable Offices. The less of Advantage they bring with them, the more Valuable they are. And accordingly we find the Ancients infinitely fond of, and with all their Industry and Pains, aspiring after those, which had nothing else to recommend them, but purely their being Marks of Distinction, and Characteristical Notes of Honour and Virtue. Of this Nature in the several Republics of old, were the Garlands of Laurel and Oaken-Leaves, (and so are the particular Bearing in Coats of Arms at this Day, added to the former Charges of the Field, upon some special piece of Service) distinct Habits, and Robes; the Prerogative of some Surname, as Africanus to Scipio, and the like: Precedence and Place in public Assemblies, and Orders of Knighthood. It may also fall out, that, when a Man's Deserts are Notorious and Celebrated, it shall be more for his Honour, not to have these Ensigns and Marks, than to have them. And therefore Cato said well, that it would make more for the Glory of his Name and Virtues, that People should ask why the City had not erected a Statue to his Memory in the Forum, than that they should inquire, why they had done it.   

CHAP. LXI. Of Learning.  
LEarning is, without all Dispute, a Noble and Beautiful Ornament; an Instrument of exceeding use, when in the Hands of one, that hath the Skill to use it aright. But what Place and Proportion it deserves in our Esteem, is a Matter not so generally agreed upon. And here, as in all Cases of the like Nature, Men fall into Extremes, and are to blame in both; Some in overvaluing, and Others in disparaging and undervaluing it. Some run it up to that Extravagant Height, that they will not allow any other Advantage to come near, or be thought comparable to it; They look upon it, as the Supreme Happiness; a Ray and Efflux of the Divinity; they hunt after it with Eagerness and insatiable Appetite; with vast expense, and indefatigable Labour and Pains; and are content to part with Ease, and Health, and every Thing in exchange for it. Others as much diminish and despise it; treat Those with Scorn who make it their Business and Profession. And when we have observed this of either side, I suppose my Reader will make no Difficulty to allow, that a Moderation between both is best, most safe, most just and reasonable. I, for my own part, were I to execute the Herald's Office in this Dispute, should think that Place is without all question due to Integrity and Prudence, to Health and Wisdom, and Virtue, nay, 
See Book III. ch. 14.  I should not scruple to give precedence to Skill and Dexterity in Business: But then for Dignity, and Noble Descent, and Military Valour, I should think they might go together Hand in Hand, or leave them to dispute the Priority out among Themselves: But if I were pressed, and must deliver my Sense freely and particularly, sure it is equal in Honour to These, or at least the very next after them.  
Now, as Sciences differ from each other according to the Subjects of which they treat, and the Matters they are employed about; and also in the Manner of acquiring, and attaining to a Mastery in them; so do they likewise in the Usefulness, the Reputableness, the Necessity, the Decency, the Fame, and the Gain of them. Some are purely Speculative, and aim at nothing farther, than merely Contemplation, the entertaining, informing, improving, brightening our Intellectual Faculties. Others are Practical, and lead us directly on to Action. Some again are Real, and Conversant in Things; they bring us acquainted with Matters that are without us, either Natural or Supernatural Objects; Others are Nominal, They concern Discourse only, teach us Languages, explain Terms of Arts, help us to express ourselves properly, and to reason regularly and closely. Now, from this short Account, we may boldly say, That upon a Review of the foregoing Distinctions, Those Sciences, which are most Manly and Reputable, most Useful, most Necessary, and have least of Glory, and Vanity, and sordid mercenary Profit attending them, are infinitely Preferable to the rest. By the same reason than it follows beyond all Contradiction, that the Practical Sciences are of all others the most excellent; such as propose the Good and Happiness of Man for their End, and direct all their Instructions thither; that teach us to live, and to die well; to command and govern, to submit and obey as becomes us; and therefore These are worthy our most Serious Application: Who ever pretends to Wisdom, must lay out his Study and his Time here; and of such, this Book is designed to be a Compendious Summary and Abridgement: that is, of Morals, Economics, and Politics; the First for governing ourselves well; the Second for managing our domestic Affairs, and presiding over our Families well; and the Third for discharging our public Offices well, if we be called to any part in the Administration of the Government; or if we be private and subordinate only in both the last Capacities, then to consider and make good the Duties incumbent upon any the meanest and most inferior Character. Next to these Practical Sciences, the Natural are to be regarded and esteemed, which let us into the Knowledge of this System, and Fabric of the Universe, and the infinite Variety of Creatures contained in it; and that, both for our own Use and Benefit, so far as they can be serviceable to us, and also to excite our Wonder, and Praise, and most Humble Adoration of His incomprehensible Majesty, and Goodness, and Wisdom, and Power, who is the Great Master-Builder, the constant Preserver and Governor of All, and every Part of it. As for all the rest, they are empty and frothy Things in Comparison; and though we may call in upon them by the by, and for a little while, yet ought we not to set up our Rest there, nor make them the Business of our Lives; because the Use and Effect of them is of no great Consideration, and they contribute nothing at all towards the making us one whit better Men. To what purpose then is all that Time, and Trouble, and Expense, and how can we think it otherwise than lost, or misemployed, which we see Studious Men sometimes lay out so liberally upon them? It is true, they may serve to get Money, or to raise something of a Reputation among the People, but it is where Men are Ignorant or ill-governed only: For otherwise they will seek and encourage such Studies, as bring solid Comforts and Advantages, and are built upon a firm Bottom.   

CHAP. LXII. Of Riches and Poverty.  
THese are the two Foundations and Beginnings, the Root and Source of all the Troubles and Calamities, the Disorders and Disturbances, that confound, and put the World out of Course: For excess of Plenty and Riches exalts and puffs up the Possessors, renders them haughty and insolent, swells them with Pride and Disdain, prompts them to, Luxury and Extravagance, to Sensuality and all manner of unlawful Pleasures; encourages them to use their Inferiors contemptuously, and to insult over their Wants and their Miseries; makes them bold and daring, and in con●idence of their Power, puts them upon seditious and dangerous Attempts. The extreme Poverty of Others subdues and dejects their Spirits, poisons them with Envy and restless Jealousy, with Indignation and Spite, Discontent and Despair; and, since Matters, they think, cannot be worse, provokes them to try their Fortunes, and make a desperate Push, in hopes they may be better. Plato calls the Poor the Bane and Fl●gne of a Commonwealth. So that both these sorts of Men are very dangerous; but whether of the Two is more so, Considering People have not agreed. Aristotle is of Opinion, that Abundance is more formidable to the Public, than Want; for the State hath not much to fear from Them who desire no more than a bare Subsistence; but it hath reason to be jealous of Those, whose Wealth makes them Ambitious and Aspiring; and whose Interest and Authority, upon the account of that Wealth, gives them Power and Opportunities to be very troublesome. Plato thinks Poverty the worse; for when Poor People are grown desperate, they are furious and terrible Creatures; when they are irritated and enraged with want of Bread, and cannot live upon their Work; when Trading is dead, and they are overburdened with Tax; then Necessity, (which is a great Mistress, and finds her Scholars very apt) teaches them That, which they would never have ventured upon in better and more easy Circumstances; and this makes them bold as Lions: For tho' each of them single can do little or no hurt, yet their Numbers are always great, and these give them Confidence. But whatever the Disease be, 'tis certain the Remedy is more ready at hand, and the Cure easier, for the Poor than for the Rich; this Mischief is quickly restrained, and may be timely prevented. For so long as they have Necessaries, so long as they can carry on their Trades, and maintain their Families by them, they are generally contented. And therefore it highly concerns all Governors to preserve and encourage Trade, because in so doing they are sure to keep good Order among the laborious, and hardy, and most necessitous; which to be sure are generally the most numerous part of their Subjects. In the mean while, we may observe this very remarkable Difference between them, that the Rich have the Temptation within Themselves, and are formidable upon the account of their own Personal Vices, and the Circumstances they are in; but the Poor are not so from Themselves, nor their Condition, but if ever They minister just cause of Fear, it is commonly through the Indiscretion or the Cruelty of their Governors, who suffer them to be driven to the last Extremities; and when these pinch hard, and are no longer supportable, they are provoked to play a desperate Game in their own Defence.  
Now several Lawgivers, and eminent Politicians have applied their Minds to contrive proper Methods for the keeping off, and securing the States they form, or presided over, from the Inconveniences attending each of these Extremes; and such as so vast a Disproportion of Estates and Fortunes will naturally expose the Public to. They have been therefore desirous to bring all nearer to a Level, to reduce the one, and raise the other; so that there should be a kind of universal Mediocrity, and pretty near an equal Scantling: When Things stood upon this Foot, they promised Themselves a sure Foundation of Peace and Amity, and good Correspondence, by removing all the Grounds of Contempt on the one hand, and of Envy and Jealousy on the other, quite out of the way. Others have stretched this Project yet further; they are for introducing a common Stock, and leaving no peculiar Rights or Properties at all. But this is impracticable, and fantastical, and never can exist long any where, but in Men's own Brains and Imaginations. Nor is that other Design of Equality any more practicable, or indeed at all possible. For tho' Men's Income be alike, yet their Expenses and Occasions will be far from being so. These may vary upon a Thousand Accidents; but it is enough that every body is able to see and instance in one, which is perfectly unanswerable; and that is the Number of Children, which we all know neither do, nor ever can increase in every Family alike. And therefore it must needs be insufficient, and the Design lost, where the Necessities are not, nor ever can be equal. All the Attempts that have been at any time made toward the putting in practice this Levelling Principle, have scarce ever been able to set it on Foot: It costs more than the Thing is worth to come to it; and if Men could arrive at it, yet it is highly inexpedient, and not at all to their Purpose. The End they aim at is never thus to be compassed; for after all, this is at last but to open another Door, and let the very Mischief in the back way, which we take so much Pains to keep out. For if Hatred and Contention be the Evils we are afraid of, where do we find These more frequent and fierce than between Equals? How can we indeed reasonably expect it otherwise, where Men think Themselves a Match for one another, where there is no Distance or Respect to Temper, no Fear to curb and bind them to the Peace and their good Behaviour? If Envy and Jealousies arise against Superiors, so do they likewise among Equals; and this latter sort is the Seed of Disturbances and Confusions, Seditions and Civil Wars. Some Disproportion therefore is absolutely necessary, but such as is moderate, and may keep the Balance even and steady. Order is like Harmony; if all Sounds we the same, there could be no Music; but yet it is necessary these different Notes should agree in general Cords, and retain some Proportion to make the Composition regular and sweet. But a perfect Level is like a continued Unison; and nothing is more flat, 
* Nihil est aequalitate inaequalius.  nothing more unequal than an exact Equality.  
This so very great Disparity of Estates and Possessions prceeds from several very different Causes; but more especially from Two. The One is unjust Borrow, and hard Loans; when Men are forced and content to take up Money at any rate, and submit to all the unconscionable Interests that Griping Usurers put upon them; by which means those Unjust Creditors eat into their Estates, gnaw out their very Heart and Bowels, and by degrees swallow all, and so grow fat upon the Substance of other People. To such as These may that Complaint of the Psalmist not improperly be applied, 
Psal. liii. 5  They eat up my People as they would eat Bread. The Other is by Disposals of Estates, and that either by Men during their own Life-time, in Alienations, Dowries, and Portioning of Children when they Marry, or set up in the World; or else by last Will, and Bequest at the time of their Death. By all which Means, and by the Frugality and good Management of some, and the extravagant Profuseness of Others, it comes to pass, that some Men's Fortunes are prodigiously increased, and others sunk and crumbled into nothing. A Prodigal Heir makes all fly, and his Posterity continue poor after him: A great Fortune marries with a vast Estate; and here one Heap is piled upon another: A rich Heiress carries off the Estate and Paternal Seat, incorporates it into another House, and so the Wealth and Name of her own Family is either dreadfully maimed and enfeebled, or cut off and quite extinct at once. These are plain and obvious Reasons, why some Men gain such mighty Advantages over Others; and show us how some Families are reduced to nothing, and others again flourish as much, and are wonderfully strengthened and exalted. Now all these things should be taken into Consideration, and other Measures taken to regulate and reform the Mischiefs that grow from them. For tho' a perfect Equality be impracticable, yet a convenient Moderation is not: And if all be not Even, yet there is no necessity that all should be in Extremes; we may, and it is reasonable we should bring Matters nearer together, and make some tolerable Approaches towards such a Mediocrity as is reasonable. Such an one as is reasonable, I say; for an entire and thorough one is neither reasonable, nor expedient, nor honest. This may be effected in some good Degree by private Persons, in the management and disposal of their Own Affairs: And it may be advanced higher by the wholesome Constitutions and Counsels of Those in a public Capacity: And both are concerned to have Regard to it. But of this we shall have some occasion to speak more at large, when the Virtue of Justice comes to be treated of.    
The End of the First Book.   

OF WISDOM: THE Second and Third BOOKS.  
Written Originally in French, BY THE Sieur de CHARRON  
Made English By GEORGE STANHOPE, D. D. late Fellow of King's-College in Cambridge, from the Best Edition, Corrected and enlarged by the Author a little before his Death.  
LONDON: Printed for M. Gillyflower, M. Bently, H. Bonwick, J. Tonson, W. Freeman, T. Goodwin, M. Wotten, J. Walthoe, S. Manship, and R. Parker. 1697.   

To the HONOURABLE Sir WILLIAM ELLYS, BARONET.  
SIR,  
WERE it merely for the Pomp, or the Protection of an Honourable Name, that I take the Liberty of prefixing Yours before this Work, those purposes of doing it had been abundantly answered. But I confess an Ambition higher than either of These, and design this Address, as a means to know a Person more intimately, whose Character creates Honour and Respect in all that are acquainted with it. An Ambition  at least, in One whose Happiness it is, to have some sort of Pretention to be gratified in a Desire, which he cannot but entertain and indulge.  
Where Providence confers the External Advantages of Life only, the Greater and most valuable part is still behind. Very few are more than half-blest; and of Them who are, or call themselves unhappy, the Generality are miserable, not from real Want of what they need, but from an Incapacity of enjoying what they have. Hence it is still accounted a Moot-point in Philosophy, whether Prosperity or Adversity, Plenty or Penury, require greater management and address. 
* Crates.  One of some Name, we know, among those Sages durst not so much as trust himself with the Temptation of Riches. You, Sir, very justly reproach his behaviour with Rashness and Folly, by showing, that not the Sea, but a Soul large and diffusive as the Sea rather, is necessary to deliver a man from the danger of a plentiful Fortune. This does not only secure, but render Him and It a public Blessing, by Acts of Goodness, Munificence, Hospitality; By cultivating those Social Virtues whereby Mankind are sustained, cemented, endeared to one another, and all those important and beneficial Ends accomplished, to which the Giver of these Good Gifts designs they should be serviceable.  
The Difficulties, under which most Men miscarry, are not avoided by abandoning the World, but by using it in so masterly a manner, as always to keep above it. Ambition and Avarice sometimes inhabit the most retired Cloisters; and are (no doubt) sometimes too absolute Strangers to Quality, and Business, and Fortune. Every one is valuable in proportion as he is Useful; but Useful They can be but very little, who industriously decline the occasions of being so. The Man of Conversation and Civil Society is therefore that Pattern of Wisdom, designed and drawn by this Author. And to the same purpose, all perfect Systems of Morality enlarge upon the different Capacities of Men; because the Offices resulting from thence make the chief part of Christian, as well as Human Prudence. These are the Talents peculiar to each person, and his proper Business distinct from the rest of the World.  
Now, Sir, when Charron accordingly treats of The true and genuine Use of Riches, of a Mind capable of Stemming a full tide of Plenty; of the Integrity of Magistrates in Distribution of Justice, of the Fidelity and Vigilance of Wise and Worthy Patriots in the Service of their Country, and Defence of its just Rights; of the Tenderness and Prudence of Parents, and the affectionate Deference and Duty of Children; when, I say, These and other Descriptions passed through my hands, there needed but little reflection, to bring to a Relation's remembrance, a very eminent Instance of these several Civil and Domestic Virtues.  
Be pleased therefore, Sir, to assert your own Excellencies: And what Your Example already recommends to the World, proceed yet more to enforce, by accepting a Treatise intended to draw Men to these Resemblances of Yourself, as an Argument of that respect, with which I am,  
SIR, Your most Obedient, Humble Servant, George Stanhope.   

THE PREFACE.  
HAVING in the former Book explained and insisted upon the several Methods, by which Man may be let into a competent knowledge of Himself, and the Condition of Humane Nature; which is the first part of our Undertaking, and a very proper Introduction to Wisdom: The next thing in order, is to enter upon the Doctrines and Precepts of Wisdom itself. Now That shall be done in this Second Book, by laying down some General Rules and Directions, reserving for the business of our Third and Last, those that are more Particular, and appropriated to special Persons and Circumstances, according to which their Duties vary in proportion to their respective Conditions. It was a very necessary Preamble in the mean while, to call men's thoughts home, and fix them upon themselves; to exhort and instruct them to handle, probe, and nicely to examine their Nature; that so being thus brought to a tolerable knowledge and sense of their Infirmities and Defects, and sadly convinced of the miserable Condition they are by nature in, they may be put into a better Capacity of having those healing and wholesome Remedies applied, which are necessary, in order to their Recovery and Amendment. And these Remedies are no other than the Instructions and Exhortations, proper for the attaining true Wisdom.  
But alas! It is a prodigious, and a melancholy thing to consider, how stupid and regardless Mankind are of their Happiness and Amendment. What a strange Temper is it for a Man, not to be at all solicitous, to have the very Errand and Business he was sent into the World about, well done? Every body is infinitely fond and covetous of Living, but scarce any body is concerned, or takes any manner of Thought, for Living as becomes him. This is the very Art which should be our Chief, our only Study; and yet it is that which we are least Masters of, least disposed to learn. Our Inclinations, and Designs, our Studies, and Endeavours are (as Experience daily shows) vastly different, even from our very Cradles, or as soon as we began to be capable of any. They vary according to the Temper and Constitution of our Bodies, the Company we keep, the Education we are instituted by, the infinite Accidents and Occasions of our Lives; but still none of us casts his Eyes that way, none makes it his Endeavour to manage these to the best Advantage, none attempts hearty to improve in Wisdom; nay, we do not at all lay this most necessary Matter to heart, we scarce allow it so much as a single Thought. Or if at any time it comes in our way, accidentally, and by the by; we hear and attend to it, just as we would to a Tale that is told; or a piece of News, that in no degree concerns us. The Discourse perhaps is pleasant and entertaining to some (and but to some neither, for many will not endure, nor give it a patiented hearing) but even those who are contented, nay delighted to hear it, yet hear to very little purpose. The words and sound tickle their Senses, and that's all they do. For as to the thing itself, That makes no impression, gains no esteem, kindles no desires, at least in this so universally Corrupt, and Degenerate Age of ours. In order to the being made duly sensible of the true worth of Wisdom, and how much it deserves from us, there seems to be some particular Turn in our first Frame, some Original Aptitude and Air in our Nature and Complexion. If Men must take pains, they will much more willingly employ their time, and exert their Strength and Parts in the pursuit of Things, whose Effects are gay, and glittering, external and sensible, such as Ambition, and Avarice, and Passion, propose to them; But as for Wisdom, whose Fruits are silent and gentle, internal, and unseen, it hath no Attractives at all for them. O wretched Men! what false Measures do we take, and how fatally are we deluded? We prefer Winds and Storms for the sake of their Noise, where there is nothing but Air and Emptiness, before Body and solid Substance, which is calm and still; Opinion and Reputation, before Truth and Real Merit. Surely Man (as was said in the First Book) is no better than Vanity and Misery, when so averse from, so uncapable of Wisdom. Every Man is tainted with the Air which he breathes and dwells in, goes in the beaten Road, and lives like his Neighbours; and when this is made a Rule, how can it be expected he should take another Course? We follow the Track, and hunt by the Scent; nay we urge our own Vices upon other People, we are eager and warm in propagating them; we dissemble our Passions, dress and trick them up, and then put them upon our Companions. None calls after us to stop our Career; we are not to expect it. We are all out of the way, and likely never to correct our Error, without the special favour of Heaven, and a great and generous strength and firmness of Nature at the same time, discerning enough to observe the common Error in which all are entangled, but scarce any are sensible of it; daring enough, to be singular in minding that which no body else minds; and hardy and resolute enough to judge and to live in a method quite different from the rest of the World.  
There have been indeed, some, though very few such brave Men: I see them still, their Memories and Names are sweet to this day; and I smell their Ashes like a rich Perfume, with incredible Admiration and Delight. But what hath been the effect of this uncommon Judgement? and how have they behaved themselves with it? Truly they are for the most Democritus, or Heraclitus revived. Some see the Errors and Follies of Mankind, and when they have done, they only make a Jest of them; They divert and entertain themselves and others, by a Comical Representation of a very Tragical thing; as if no more were necessary to teach Men Truth and Virtue, than merely to expose Falsehood and Vice. They laugh at the World; and the World is but too ridiculous; but while they make themselves merry and good Company, they quite forget to be good-natured and charitable. Others are feeble and poor-spirited, they mince the matter, and dare not speak out; they soften and disguise their Language, mingle and sweeten their Propositions to render them palatable, and make men swallow them before they are ware, and in a Mass of other things, where they shall not taste, or scarce ever be sensible of them.  
They do not speak home, distinctly and fully; but express themselves, like the Oracles of old, in Terms ambiguous, and subject to Evasions. I, for my part, come long after them both in Time, and Merit; but I am blunt and downright, and deliver my sense plainly and clearly. I give an Idea of Wisdom, and Instructions for attaining it, such as the World perhaps hath not been used to; and I shall not be surprised, if the newness of my Matter and Method expose this little Tract to the Censures of such Persons, as have neither Temper, nor Ability to judge calmly and maturely of the Matter, but accustom themselves to condemn and run down every thing which does not hit their Humour, or agree with the Notions they have imbibed already. But who can help that, or secure himself from their Censures and Displeasure? Let Them take their course; I question not in the mean while, but the meek and tractable, and honestly disposed, and likewise the Sublime and Celestial Spirits will pass an equitable construction upon my Writings. These two Extremes are the Seats of Quiet and Serenity; The middle Region is the place where all the Disorders, and Storms, and Meteors are form, as was observed before; and therefore those angry Men act in agreement with their Principles, and do nothing but what their Capacity and Condition disposes them to.  
Now in order to give a rough and general Draught of Wisdom, and particularly of that part, which is the Subject of this present Book; we may divide the Matter of it into four Points, or general Considerations.  
The First consists of such things as are Preparatives or proper Predispositions to Wisdom; and They are Two. 1. First a disentangling the Mind from all those Obstructions that prevent, or retard its Improvement; and of these some are External, such as the Errors and Vices of the World, which we derive and suck in from abroad; and others Internal, which have their Birth and Beginning from ourselves; of which Nature are our own Appetites and Passions; 2. The Other is a full, entire, and universal Liberty of the Mind; whereby it thinks and judges freely.  
The Second is concerned in laying the Foundations of Wisdom firm and durable; and These are also Two; 1. True and Essential Integrity, and 2. The Fixing to ourselves some certain End first, and then chalking out a convenient Rule for our Lives and Actions, by the keeping close to which, we may be conducted to, and arrive at that End.  
The Third contributes to the raising this Building upon those Foundations; that is, laying on and finishing the several Functions and Duties of Wisdom, which are Six. Three whereof principally regard ourselves, and concern every man considered singly, and as a Man; and these are 1. Piety; 2. an Inward and due Mastery over his Thoughts and Desires; and 3. a decent deportment and equal Temper of Mind, in all Accidents, whether of prosperous or adverse Fortune; The other Three regard him as a Member of Society, and extend to others as well as himself; which are, 1. A Due observance of Laws, and Customs, and Ceremonies; 2. A modest and obliging Conversation with others; and 3. Prudence in the management of all kind of Business.  
The Fourth is made up of the Fruits, and good Effects of Wisdom, which are Two, 1. The being constantly fit, and in a readiness to die; and 2. The maintaining a true and uninterrupted Tranquillity of Spirit; which is indeed the Crown and Glory of Wisdom, and the very Supreme Good and Happiness, of which Humane Nature is Capable. These taken all together make Twelve Points in the whole, and each being allowed a distinct Consideration by itself, this Book will accordingly contain just so many Chapters.   

Of WISDOM.  

The Second BOOK.  
Containing General Rules and Instructions for the Study and Attainment of Wisdom.  

CHAP. I. The first Disposition to Wisdom, Exemption from the Errors and Vices of the World, and from one's own Passions.  
THE first step towards the Knowledge of any thing being a distinct and adequate Idea and Comprehension of the Subject to be Treated of, I should, according to this Rule, lay down for the first Rudiment of Wisdom, the Knowledge of a Man's Self in particular, and of the Condition of Human Nature in general. But This, having been the Subject of the entire First Book, I have Reason to hope is sufficiently provided for already. All therefore which I think necessary to repeat upon this occasion, is, That every Person who makes Wisdom his Aim and End, aught in the first place to be throughly well acquainted with Himself, and with Mankind. The true Knowledge whereof is a very important and beneficial Study, of wonderful Efficacy and Advantage. For Man is the Subject proper for the Philosopher's Consideration; none but the Wise understand it, and every man that does really understand it, is Wise. But at the same time it is a matter of great Intricacy and Difficulty; for Man is extremely addicted to fallacy and disguise; so full of it, as to impose very often, not only upon other People, but upon Himself too. Every one takes a pleasure in cheating himself, is industrious to flatter his own Conscience, solicitous to hid and extenuate his own Failings, and diligent to magnify his few commendable Actions and Qualities; shutting his Eyes, and fearful to see the worst of himself; and therefore, since Sincerity, even at home, is so very little regarded, we cannot reasonably think it strange, that Wisdom is so very rarely to be met with. For how can we expect it should be otherwise, when so very few are perfect, so few indeed give any attention to the very first Lesson in this Science, and Men are so far from undertaking to Instruct others, that they are wretchedly Ignorant and take no care of informing themselves! How many professed Masters, how many zealous Learners do we see in other matters, which are foreign, and of little or no moment, while every body neglects the business which most nearly concerns him; and while he is taken up with other matters abroad, is absolutely in the dark at home! What an Unhappiness! What an exquisite Folly is this! How great a Reproach to the Generality of Mankind!  
Now in order to the being competently skilled in this point, we should get acquainted with all sorts of Men, Those of the most distant Countries and Climates, the most differing Tempers and Ages, Conditions and Professions; (in which History and Travelling are very considerable Helps) we should observe their Motions, their Inclinations, and their several Deal and Behaviour, not only in public, (for these are full of Artifice, and consequently less improving) but their most secret and reserved Actions, the most natural and freest from Constraint, such as may let us into the dark and mysterious part of Human Nature, and discover some of the hidden Springs by which Men are moved. And particularly, great regard should be had to those Passages wherein men's Interests, or particular Humours come to be nearly touched; because there the Man will be sure to show himself in his own true Colours.  
When these Remarks are made, a man must draw them together, and form some general Notions and judicious Reflections from them. But particularly one must be very careful to descend into Himself, to try and found his own Breast to the bottom; that no lurking Deceit escape him there; but every Thought, and Word, and Action, be justly and nicely weighed.  
The Result of such Observations would certainly be, a sad but serious Sense, how miserable and weak, how defective and poor a Creature Man is, on the one hand; and yet how vain and arrogant, how proud and presumptuous, how bloated and big with Air and Wind, what a mere Tumour, a Bladder, a Bubble he is, on the other. The former of these Representations will move our Compassion; the latter will raise our Horror and Indignation. Now the former Book hath done him right in all these respects, by taking him to pieces, and examining every part and feature by itself; viewing him in all the different Lights, and taking every Prospect the Picture was capable of being drawn in. So that I shall trouble my Reader no further with any account of this nature at present: But hope he make a good Proficiency in the business of this Second Book, by the Assistances given him in the First. And in order to it, we will proceed to warn him of the chief Obstructions in his way to Wisdom, as They, who build, must first clear the Ground, and remove the Rubbish out of the way.  
The Man, who desires to become Wise, must at the very first entrance into this design, seriously set about, and steadfastly resolve upon delivering, preserving, and guarding himself effectually, from two Evils; which are directly opposite, and irreconcilable Enemies to Wisdom; and such absolute impediments to our progress in the studies of it, that till They be got over, or taken out of the way, no Advances can possibly be made. One of these is External, consisting of the Vices, and the Opinions in common Vogue, which, by the advantage of being Popular, spread, and propagate Folly, like a contagious Disease; the other Internal, and consists of a man's own Passions; so that in short, the Two great Adversaries we have to fear, and are most concerned to defend ourselves against, are the World, and ourselves. And after such an Advertisement, there needs no more be said to show, how hard this undertaking is: What course shall we take to get quit of these two, or how shall we run away from them? Wisdom indeed is difficult and rare; but it is upon this account chief, that it is so; This is the troublesome part of it; This in a manner the sole Conflict, we have to fear; when once This Combat is won, all the rest is easy, and the Day our own. For the first thing, that can fit, or put us into any Capacity for Wisdom, must be to get clear of that Evil, which obstructs our whole Design, and will not admit Wisdom to dwell with, or grow near it. Now this is the Benefit my Reader is expected to reap from the First Book, which, as I said, may furnish him with sufficient Instructions for the getting throughly acquainted with the World and Himself; and this Knowledge will possess him with so just a Character of Both, as cannot but assist and lead him on, to Consideration and Care, and teach him to stand upon his guard, and diligently beware of both. Thus there is a strict and natural Connection between the two parts of this Treatise; for the Beginning and First Step of the Second Book, is the End and Fruit of the Former.  
Let us first then say somewhat to that Hindrance, which is External. 
Popular Error.  Now we have heretofore given a large and lively Description of the Temper of the Common People; the strange unaccountable Humours of That, 
Book I. Changed LII.  which is by much the most numerous part of Mankind; and it can be no hard matter to make a Judgement from thence, what monstrous effects those humours must in all reason be expected to produce. For since the Vulgar are so bewitched with the love of Vanity, since they abound with Envy and Malice; since they are so totally void of Justice, and Judgement, and Discretion; since they are perfectly strangers to Moderation and good Temper; and what sort of Deliberations, and Opinions, and Judgements, and Resolutions, can we suppose them taken up with? How indeed is it possible that they should think, or speak, or act, according to Truth, and good Sense? We have likewise before, 
Book I. Ch. xxxix.  in that Chapter which undertook to represent the Misery of Human Nature, given several remarkable, and but too notorious instances of the Faults and Failings, which the generality of the World are guilty of, both in point of Judgement and Choice; how miserably their Understandings are darkened, and their Wills depraved; which may very easily convince us, how fixed, and deeply rooted they are in Error and Vice. To this purpose are those Say common among Wise men, That the Greater part is always the worse part of Mankind; There is not one of a Thousand Good: That the Number of Fools is infinite. And that there is very great Danger of Infection in the Crowd.  
Upon these accounts their Advice is not only to keep one's self Clear and Free, and have nothing at all to do with such Opinions, and Designs, and Affections, as are popular and in vogue; but, as if all this Restraint were too little, not so much as to venture your person among the Mob, to decline all manner of Conversation and Familiarity with the Vulgar; since it is impossible ever to approach that diseased part of Mankind, without some taint, some pestilential vapours, such as will certainly bring danger and detriment to our own Health. So contagious is the very Breath and Company of the People; so little aught even the wisest and persons best established in Virtue and Wisdom, to trust themselves among them. For who indeed is strong enough to sustain the Attack of Vices, when they march up in form of Battle, and charge by whole Troops at once? We see what a world of Mischief one single Example of Avarice or Luxury does; The Conversation of One Effeminate Man softens by degrees and enervates the Minds of them that live with him; One Rich Neighbour kindles our Desires of Wealth; One Lewd Companion strikes as it were his Extravagance and Debauchery into us so forcibly, that we may even feel the Impression; it eats like a Canker, and nothing is so solid, so clean, to be free from the Rust of it. And if this be the Case of particular Instances, what do we think must the Condition and the Power be, of those Vices and Dispositions that are become General, and such as all the world run into with full Cry, and wild Career?  
And yet after all, as necessary as this keeping aloof off from Infection is, the thing is exceeding difficult, and but seldom put in practice. For to follow the beaten Track is something very plausible, and carries a great Appearance of Justice and Goodness, Humility and Condescension in it. The Road is plain and large, and Travellers are easily seduced into it. Singularity is a By-path, and none but fanciful or conceited men are thought to take it. We go on after our Leaders, like Beasts in a Herd: The Reasonableness, and Worth, and Justice of a thing is rarely examined; but Example and Custom are the moving Arguments; and thus we hurry on, and stumble at the same Stones, and fall upon one another in heaps; we press and push forward, and draw whole multitudes upon the same Precipice; and there we fall and perish, merely upon the Credit of those that go before us. Now the Man that would be wise indeed, must take quite contrary Measures. He must receive nothing upon Content and Example only; but be very jealous and considerate, and suspect every thing which he finds the generality of Mankind agreed in, and fond of; and instead of counting Numbers, and practising by the Poll, he must weigh the Goodness of the thing; not suffering himself to be deluded with fair Appearances, with general Approbations, or common use, or doing as the rest of the world do, but nicely examine the real intrinsic worth of Things and Actions, and resolve to stand alone, where this will not justify his Compliance. Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil, is a just, a prudent, a necessary Precept; and a most vicious and mistaken Modesty That is, which prevails with us to disobey it. When therefore any one would cut us short, and thinks to knock all our Arguments on the head, by saying, All the world is of this Opinion, or all the world does thus, a considerate Man will answer to himself at least, I like it so much the worse for that; this is but a very scurvy Caution, for their Approbation makes me suspect it the more. Thus the Wise Photion, when he saw the whole Auditory highly applaud something he had spoken, turned about, and asked his Friends that stood by, What was the matter; whether he had let fall somewhat which ought not to have been said, or been guilty of some egregious Impertinence, that all the People were so mightily pleased with him. The wisest method then, is to decline, as much as possibly we can, any Familiarity or frequent Conversation with the People, who are generally foolish, ignorant, and a very odd Medley of Men: But, if our affairs will not permit that, yet at least it must be our constant Care to avoid their received opinions, not to be born down with their Judgements, nor conform ourselves to their Temper and Complexion, nor be corrupted by their vicious Dispositions and Practices: But at the same time we live in the world, we must not be of the world. And This indeed is the Reason why Solitude is so much and so earnestly recommended by Philosophers and Wise men; a Solitude, that consists in setting the Soul free, and discarding all popular Opinions, and reigning Vices; delivering the Mind from the Bondage and Confusion, which Custom, and Example, and the Common Cry subject it to; that so itmay have leisure to retire into itself, and take its full Range without Interruption or Restraint.  
The other Inconvenience, and fatal Obstruction of Wisdom, 
Second Thing, Exemption from Passions;  is Internal; and as such threatens more imminent Danger, and requires a greater portion of our Care. And This is that Slavery and Perplexity which our own Passions and disorderly Affections put us into. And against These there ought to be a strict and strong guard, to prevent their Tumults and Insurrections; or rather indeed we ought, if that were possible, to dispossess them quite, that so our Mind might be clean, and open, and unsullied, like a Blank Paper, ready to receive any Inscription, any Tincture of Wisdom, against which the Passions are formal and declared Enemies, by the Stains and Prejudices they leave upon it. This gave occasion for that Saying of some Wise Heathens, That it was not possible, even for Jupiter himself to be in Love, or to be angry, or affected strongly with any other Passion, and yet to be Wise at the same time. And accordingly both Reason and Revelation in the Ideas they teach us to form of God, represent him void of all Passions, Body, or Bodily Affections; as Infirmities by no means consistent with the Excellencies of an Absolutely Good and Perfect Being. Wisdom is a regular conduct of the Soul; it proceeds in number, and weight, and measure; it is an evenness and smoothness, a sweet and pleasing Harmony of our Judgements and Wills, and well-proportioned Dispositions. A constant health and soundness of the Mind; whereas the Passions quite contrary, are the Ague-sits of a distempered Soul, the Bounding and Rebounding of Folly; the wild Skips, and wanton Sallies, and impetuous Emotions, and rash unguided Flights of the Man, without any Aim, or Order, or Measure.  
The Colours, in which the former Book painted our Passions are so black and hideous, 
General Remedies against them.  that they cannot but show us their Deformity, and may create in us a just horror and detestation of them. The Remedies and Means for subduing each of these in particular, will come in more properly in the Third Book, under the Topics of Fortitude and Temperance. But of those which are general, and our present Business, there are several, and of different kinds, some Good, and some Evil. I do not here reckon that Happiness of Constitution and Natural Blessedness, which renders the Man so well tempered, as to preserve him calm and serene; not subject to any strong Passions, or violent Emotions of Soul; and keeps him in a constant, smooth, even, uniform composure of Spirit, hardened and impenetrable, and proof against all Attacks. This indeed is an uncommon Excellency; but it is not so properly a Remedy against Evil, as an Exemption from it; it is not a Medicine or an Instrument of Recovery, but it is an effectual Prevention of Sickness, and the State of Health itself. This therefore falls not within the compass of our Subject and Design in this place, which is to prescribe Remedies truly so called; and of Them I shall propose Four to the Reader's Observation.  
The First, which in truth is not at all advisable, nor hath any real Goodness to recommend it, 
Stupidity.  is a sort of Stupidity or Insensibility of Mind, which does not feel, nor apprehend at all. A Brutish Apathy, incident to mean Souls, such as are either perfectly seared and dead, or have their Apprehensions in great measure blunted and dulled; a sort of Callousness and Crust upon the Sensitive parts; a Spiritual Lethargy, and constant Heaviness, which though it have some Air of Health and Ease, yet what we think so is in effect its Disease. For there can be no such thing as Wisdom and Constancy, where there is no Knowledge, no Sense, no Activity at all. And therefore this does not cure the Distemper, but only render the Patient insensible of his Illness. But yet This, as bad as it is, is better, and much rather to be chosen, than the knowing, and feeling, and suffering one's self to be vanquished and preyed upon by the painful Impression: What Horace says of his Writings, is thus far applicable to the Affections and Follies of Mankind; 

* 
Praetulerim Scriptor delirus inersque videri,  
Dum men delectent mala me, vel denique fallant,  
Quam sapere & ringi.  Horat. Epist. 2. Lib. 2. — I had rather be a little Wit,  
So my dull Verse my own dear Self delight,  
Than know my Faults, be vexed, and die with Spite.  Creech.  
The Second Remedy is very little or nothing better than the Disease itself, and yet it is more used, 
A Counter-Passion.  and oftener applied, than any other. This is, when a man vanquishes one Passion, and stifles it by the more prevailing Force of another. For the Passions are never equally poized, but one or other of them will always cast the Scales. Now we are frequently guilty of a great Error, in attributing things to Virtue and Wisdom, in which They never had the least hand or concern, but they are purely the Effects of Passion. And it happens very well for Persons under these Circumstances, when those which ride highest, and have got the Dominion in their Souls, are not of the worst sort of Passions.  
The Third, which is indeed a Good Remedy, though not the very Best, 
Prevention.  is a matter of Prudence and Artifice, by which a Man steals out of the way, runs, hides himself, and keeps at a distance from the Occasions and Accidents, which he knows, or hath found by Experience, apt to provoke and put him out of Temper; such as wake the sleeping Lion, and give Fire to his Passions. This is a Study, and a Knack men have of putting themselves upon a posture of Defence; or rather of keeping good Outguards: upon the alarming whereof they may have leisure to retreat, or so to secure the Passes and Avenues, that the Approach of Evils may be intercepted and prevented. Of this kind is that common Story of a Prince, who immediately broke a Rich Cup that was presented to him, for fear it should provoke his Anger, if by Chance or Negligence it should happen to be broken by another hand. The proper and constant Prayer of these men is, Led us not into Temptation. Thus it is, that Men resolve against Gaming, who feel themselves unable to command their Temper, and cannot play without Passion. And thus Men of nice Honour, and prone to Anger, decline Disputes in Company, and crush the very first motions to Strife in the birth. For when a man is once engaged, it is difficult to make a good Retreat; and the Aftergame of Wisdom and Discretion is very hard and hazardous to play. In the Beginning we manage things as we please, and have them at our mercy; but when once the fire is kindled, and we are grown warm, they manage and carry Us how and whither they will. It is certainly much easier wholly to decline a Passion, than to keep it within just bounds and measures; and that which few can moderate, almost any body may prevent. And the Reason is plainly this; Because all things in their infancy and at first, are small and feeble, flexible and tender. But the misfortune is, that while they are weak we are not sensible of the Danger; and when they are grown stubborn and strong, we are not capable of a Remedy. This any man may observe in common Conversation. How many instances could every one of my Readers recollect of persons, who upon every slight occasion fall into Quarrels, commence Lawsuits, engage in Disputes and Controversies, and are at last forced to give out with Disgrace; come to shameful and dishonourable Accommodations; take Sanctuary in mean and equivocating Interpretations; belie and contradict themselves; betray their want of Honesty; go against their own Sense; palliate, and disguise, and colour over matters of Fact; which are all of them miserable Refuges, and Remedies ten thousand times worse, than the Disease they would cure? In all these cases it were much better not to begin at all, than to bring matters to such a Conclusion. For, for want of timely Prudence and good Conduct, they fall into want of Integrity and Good Sense. And so in all their Proceed they run directly counter to that wise Advice of Bias, which is to set out and undertake things coolly and considerately; but, when we are well satisfied of the Justice and Reasonableness of our Enterprise, then to prosecute it warmly and vigorously. It is in this manner, that those foolish Men expose themselves, who out of a vicious Easiness and Complaisance, are ashamed to deny any request made to them; but after this mighty Liberality in promising, are every whit as apt and easy to break their word again, and prostitute that Honour vilely, which was engaged with so much Levity. And therefore in all our Affairs, in all our deal and Conversation with men, nothing is more requisite, than to look before us, to make true steps at first, and be well advised, before we begin.  
The Fourth, and infinitely the Best Remedy of all is a staunch and Vigorous Virtue; 
Virtue.  a Resolution and Firmness of Mind, by which a man is qualified to look any Accidents in the Face; to meet and come up close to them, without Starting, or Disorder, or Confusion; to enter into the Lists, and encounter them gallantly. This is a brave, a noble, a glorious Impassibility indeed; which sets the Mind above Trouble, directly contrary to the first of these Remedies, which consisted in an impenetrable Temper, a heavy, sottish, senseless Stupidity. And there is nothing will Contribute more to the working us up into this generous Gallantry of Spirit, than the furnishing and forming our Judgements with good Instructions; digesting them thoroughly, and applying them Seasonably; but especially the fortifying ourselves with Thought and Deliberation, that so we never fall under the Terrors of Surprise; but be prepared to defend our Post, whenever they attack us. For Reasoning and Discourse masters the Passions, and Premeditation is the thing, which hardens the Soul, and renders it proof, against all the Evils that would soften and subdue it. And one great help towards the preserving us impregnable, will be a serious Reflection upon what hath already been delivered in the foregoing parts of this Book; For the proper method of calming and sweetening the Passions, is to get well acquainted with the nature of them; to examine them nicely, and know exactly, what Influence they have upon Us, and what Command we have over them. But especially we should guard ourselves against too easy a Credulity, and not suffer any rash Surmise or Opinion, to foment or inflame our Passions; for Falsehood, and Folly, and Uncertainty, transport Fools only; a Wise Man will weigh things calmly, and coolly, and suffer himself to be carried no farther than mature Judgement, and measured Truth lead him: For Reason is his only Guide, and every Impression is brought to this Standard, and strictly examined by it. But of This, besides the light given us already, we shall be more fully and particularly qualified to make a Judgement, both from what follows in this Second Book, and from the Instructions to be added in the Third, when we come to enlarge there upon the Virtues of Fortitude and Temperance.  
But above all other Passions, That of Self-Love, and Presumption, and inordinate Fondness of our own Imaginations, Opinions, and Actions, requires a strict and watchful Eye, and the strongest guard we can possibly set over it. For this is the very Pest of Mankind; the most mortal and irreconcilable Enemy to Wisdom; the very Corruption and Gangrene of the Soul, by which it mortifies, and grows absolutely incurable. This swells us with vain Conceits, and false Satisfactions and Confidences; we make undue estimates of ourselves, and are marvellously pleased with our own supposed Sufficiency; nay we perfectly Idolise, fall down and worship ourselves, and neither believe, nor hear, any body but ourselves. Now indeed we can never be in worse hands than our own, and that Prayer of the Spaniards is a very significant and sensible one, O God preserve me from myself. Such Presumption and foolish Self-Love proceeds from mistake; and Ignorance, is not so truly the Mother of any Devotion, as of this. Were men but duly sensible, how weak and wretched, how impotent and little, how full of Infirmities and Errors, Human Nature is in general; and were each Man duly so of his own personal Defects and Frailties in particular, 
Rom. 12.16.  that Divine Counsel of not being wise in our own Conceits, would be much better obeyed: And obeyed it is necessary it should be; for till we are free of this Vanity, we can never arrive at true and sound Wisdom. It stops our Ears against all Advice and Instruction, and suffers us not to see our own Wants, nor the Abilities of others to direct and improve us. Honesty and Integrity, Modesty and Diligence, a meek and teachable Temper, a serious, and hearty, and humble acknowledgement of our Deficiency; These are not only the first and surest Steps to Virtue, but the greatest Evidence of a solid Judgement, a clear Understanding, a rightly-disposed Will, and  Affections; and consequently, a most hopeful and promising, as well as it is an indispensably Requisite Preparation, to the Study and Attainment of Wisdom and Goodness.   

CHAP. II. An entire Liberty of the Mind; The Second Predisposition, requisite in order to Wisdom.  
THE other Disposition to Wisdom, which is in truth a natural Consequence and Improvement of the former, is (after we have delivered ourselves from the Bondage and Captivity of Popular Opinions from without, and our own Passions from within) to attain to a full, entire, and generous Liberty of Mind; and this is of two sorts, according to the two great Faculties concerned in the Pursuit of Wisdom, implying First, a Liberty of Judgement, and then a Liberty of the Will.  
The Former of these, which regards the Judgement, consists in considering, judging, and examining all things; yet not Tying one's self up to any, but remaining still free, and at ones own disposal; of a large universal Spirit, open and ready to hear any thing that shall be offered. This is the highest pitch of Soul, the most peculiar and distinguishing Privilege of a truly Great and Wise Man; but such a one I confess it is, as all People are not capable of understanding, and much less still of attaining to it. Upon which account I think myself obliged to establish this Point, against the Objections of those Vulgar Souls, which are not of Capacity large enough for true Wisdom.  
And first of all, to prevent all Mistakes and unreasonable Cavils upon Words, I will explain the Terms made use of here, and give the true meaning of them. Now this Description consists of Three things, which mutually Produce, and Support one another. And these are, Judging every thing, being Wedded or tied up to Nothing, and preserving a Largeness of Soul, and being ready to hearken to any thing that shall be offered.  
By Judging in the first of these Particulars, it is plain I cannot mean Resolving, Determining, or Positively Affirming; because this would imply a direct Contradiction to the Second Branch of the Description. And therefore no more can possibly be understood by it, than Examining and Weighing all matters that come before us; putting the Arguments for either Side of the Question into the Balance, to see which Scale Preponderates, and where the Merits of the Cause lie; that by this means the Truth may, after long and diligent Disquisition, at last be clearly made out.  
Then again, By not espousing, or being bound up to any thing, I do not intent stopping short of the Truth, affecting Uncertainty, and floating in the Air; sometimes talking and acting one way, and sometimes the direct contrary; and so never proceeding or resolving any thing after such Deliberations as are requisite for a Man of Constancy and Prudence, nor venturing to Act, because he cannot be positive, that his Judgement is right; For I would have my Philosopher conform to the Customs of the World, and in all the external and common Passages of Human Life, act like other Men. The Rules prescribed here have nothing at all to do with any Man's Commerce or outward Behaviour; their Business is only to regulate the Mind; and to set the Thoughts and Judgement right within. Nay, and even in this Inward Regulation too, I am content, that Men should readily assent to probable Evidence; That they should stick to that side, where they find the greatest Appearance, of Honesty and Justice, of Convenience and Advantage. But still that This should be done with some sort of Modesty and Reserve; avoiding all Positiveness, and Stiffness; all indecent Censures and Contemptuous Usage of those who think otherwise: Treating the Contrary Opinions, be they never so distant, be they New, or Old, with Candour and Caution; disdaining nothing that can be offered, but ready and content to hear the Arguments of those that oppose us. Nay, not only content, but desirous, that they should oppose us, and allege whatever they have to say against our Notions; Because This will put us upon a more Accurate Exercise of the First of these Qualifications, and oblige us to consider and weigh things more cautiously.  
Now these Three Qualities I affirm to preserve, and mutually to support each other; For He that examines things carefully and without Passion, will find somewhat of Reason and Probability on every side; so much at least as will preserve him, not only from Rashness and Precipitation, but from Peremptoriness and Obstinacy; and this puts the Mind in that State of Ingenuity, and Indifference, which I mean by Openness, and Universality of Soul. Whereas on the contrary, the Man who fixes absolutely, hath cut himself out from farther Examination, he is fastened down to the Notions already entertained by him; and makes himself of a Party, resolved to maintain his Opinion, in despite of all Sense and Reason to the Contrary.  
Simple and Credulous and Foolish Men are defective in the First of these Qualifications; Opiniaters, and Dogmatical Arguers are faulty in the Second Point; and both the one and the other Sort, when they turn factious, and espouse a Party, offend against the Third. But a Philosopher indeed, whose only aim is Truth, and whose Pursuits of it are regular and discreet, is Wise, and Modest, and Moderate, and so an exact Observer of all these Rules.  
It is farther necessary, for the giving a true State of the Matter I am now upon, to add, that by the All things to be nicely examined, and the No one thing to be resolutely espoused, I mean such Objects only, as are merely humane, and Matters proper for a Philosophical Enquiry. So that This Direction must by no means be thought to concern Revealed and Divine Truths. For These we are obliged, not in Duty only, but by the strictest Reason too, to receive, with an entire submission and most profound humility. These are not Matters for Discussion and Controversy; we have nothing to do here, but to bow down the Head and Worship; to restrain the Insolence of Reason, when it would saucily pry into the Ark; to check and captivate our Minds, and resign our Understandings to the Obedience of Faith. But, these Religious and Sacred Objects excepted, none of the rest need disdain to come within those Conditions, and ought not to be received upon easier terms.  
This short Exaplanation of the Terms might perhaps suffice for Men of Equity and Good Sense, and save me the Trouble of any farther Enlargement; but because I see plainly that there are a Party of Men in the world, of a positive, fierce and domineering Spirit, who are for leading all Mankind after them in a very Magisterial manner; and, having first inviolably engaged in some particular Principles and Opinions themselves, take the Confidence to expect, that every Body else should come in upon Their Authority; and for that reason will not endure any thing that looks like asserting Liberty of Thinking; In opposition to these stiff, assuming Gentlemen; and to prevent, or at least to defeat their Outcries upon this Occasion, I think myself under some necessity to prove, and confirm what hath been here advanced; and will therefore consider each Branch of this Proposition distinctly, as the parts lie before us.  
The First of These is Judging every thing; which is the peculiar Character of the Wisest and most exalted Understandings, The proper Office of a Man; the most natural, most becoming employment of a Rational Soul. To what purpose, I would fain know, were those Noble Faculties of Discourse given us; why have we that penetrating Wit, that Discerning and Acute Spirit? Is it to build Castles in the Air with, and feed ourselves with Extravagant Fancies, or to lavish it away upon useless Vanities, and Trifles, as the greatest part of Mankind do? Eyes certainly were made to take Advantage of the Light; and these Powers to exert themselves in that Judicial Authority, which this Superintendant of the lower world, hath over the Works of Nature and Providence. To entrench upon this Prerogative, were to maim his very Essence; to unman, and to degrade him into Beast. And to exercise this Right is the Property of a Man, and to do it in an Eminent and Uncommon Manner, is the very Mark and Distinction of a Wise Man. If then the Neglect of this Power be so great a Violation of the Nature and Privileges of Mankind in general, the giving up an Original Right, which ought not by any means to be parted with; how much more inexcusable is it in a Wiseman, who is so much better qualified for it, and hath stronger pretensions to that Authority, than those of meaner Abilities can have? It is therefore, in my Apprehension, a most amazing thing, that so many persons, even among those, who either have, or at least set up for Learning and Good Sense, should of their own accord give up so just a Right, and tamely submit to what comes next; nay, approve whatsoever hath the least Colour of a Probability; or perhaps nothing but Custom and common Credit to keep it in Countenance; without ever going about to call the Cause, and examine whether there be any Merits in it or no. Nay, not only to submit, but to think themselves bound to do so; and that they are not at liberty to satisfy their own Reason. What a Horrible Indignity, what a Degradation of Humane Nature is This? In other Cases we find them bold and assuming, extremely jealous of their Honour, and tenacious of their Privileges: But here they are despicably tame, and poor-spirited, which is the justest, the most indisputable, the most inherent Property of any that belongs to them.  
'Tis certain, that there can be but One Truth, but Falsehood is infinite: A Thousand differing Judgements upon the same Thing, and but One of all these in the right; and shall I in the midst of all this Doubt and Confusion, be forbidden to use the Means God hath put into my hands, for the finding out which That is? Shall it be thought Taking more upon me than becomes me, if I endeavour to discover the best Appearance of Truth, or Equity, or Profit, or Convenience, for a Rule and Measure to my own Actions? Is it possible to suppose, that among the many disagreeing, nay opposite Laws and Customs of the World, none but Ours should be good for any thing? Are all Mankind out of their Senses, and hath every other Nation taken wrong Measures? Who can have the Confidence to assert this? Or who makes any Question, but other Countries are even with us, and think every whit as meanly of Our Constitutions, as we do of Theirs Nay, there is no dispute, but this very Person, whoever he be, that is so blindly fond of his Native Manners, would have had the same partial Liking for those of any other place, where it had been his Fortune to have been born and bred: He would have been as warm in preferring Those, above such as he now thinks best, for no other reason 'tis plain, but because he hath been used to them.  
If any Man shall venture to assert the Contrary, I must beg leave at least to answer him; that This Liberty of Judging is a good Rule however for all Foreigners to make Use of; that so They by the Practice of it may convince themselves, how much Our methods of Living excel Theirs. This he must grant me sure; and if he do, it will follow, that a Wise Man will think it advisable to do this upon All Occasions; and pass Sentence upon nothing, till he have allowed it a fair hearing, and weighed the Matter impartially. To be led thus like Oxen, and follow the Herd, is fit for none but Brutes, or Men but one Remove above them. I would by all means have a man behave and express himself, and make his Figure in compliance with the rest of the World; but I would not have him conform his Judgement to Theirs, nay I would have him even sit in Judgement upon Theirs. What Privilege do you leave the greatest Philosopher above the most ignorant Clown, if the noblest part of him, his Mind, shall be enslaved to common Vogue? Methinks the World should be very well satisfied with a Man's Compliance in outward Behaviour: But all Within is my Own; And what hath the World to do with my Thoughts? They shall give Rules if they please to my Tongue, and my Hand; but my Mind, by their good Leave, is out of their Jurisdiction, and is accountable to another Master. The Liberty of the Mind is what no body can actually take away; and if any Attempt it, they are of all Tyrants and Usurpers, the most unreasonable, the most insupportable. Every Wise Man will be sure to be tender of it, and offend in neither Extreme, for he will neither endure to part with his own Freedom, nor offer to invade any other Man's.  
Now I own, that while a Wise Man asserts this Liberty to himself, it cannot be expected, that he should be always of a piece: For at this rate his Hand and his Opinion, his Body and his Mind will be frequently put upon contradictions to one another; and there is no avoiding it: because Prudence governs his outward Actions, and private Judgement the Sentiments of his Soul. So that here are two different Characters to be maintained, and he must play both, or be unjust either to the World, or to himself. The Common Remark, that all Mankind act a part upon this Stage of the World, is as strictly true of the Wisest Men, as of any others whatsoever: for they are quite other sort of persons within than they appear to the Spectators; and if they should not play thus, but show themselves without any manner of disguise, the difference would never be endured, all their Behaviour would be so particular: And yet at the same time were their real Opinions in agreement with their Practice, this would involve them in so many Errors and Corruptions, that they would not be able to endure themselves. Many Compliances must be indulged out of Respect to the Opinion of the World, and the Laws and Customs, which prevail abroad; and particularly, in the places where we dwell: But then a man owes it to himself too, not to make These the Standard of his Opinions, but form Them upon the Dictates of Nature, and the Rules of Universal Equity and Reason. And he who does thus, must content himself with many things which he does not strictly approve; and while he lives among Men, must act as They do, but with this Reserve to himself, that these things are not done by him, in the Quality of a Wise Man, but merely under the general Character of a Man, and a Member of Society. Thus He in his Actions, will be like Cicero in his Expressions; who declared he referred the Usage of Words to the People, but the proper meaning of them he reserved the right of judging in to himself.  
To instance now in a few particulars; and those some of them very frivolous, and of little or no Consequence. I make no Scruple to pull off my Hat in Civility and Deference to a Man of Quality, because this part of the World express their Respect that way; but at the same time I am free to think, the Eastern Custom better, who express their Reverence by laying their hand upon their Breast; and never hazard their health, nor expose themselves to any of the other Inconveniences incident to frequent Uncovering of the Head. So again, were I an Inhabitant of the Oriental parts of the World, I would eat my Meals upon the ground, or leaning, or lying along, as they do, and as great part of the World did heretofore, particularly the Jews, as we find by the Description of our Lord's last Supper; but still I could not forbear in my own private judgement, preferring the sitting upright at Table, as our present manner is, for the much more commodious way of Eating. Again, to mention a Matter of somewhat greater Importance, I am satisfied, that the Dead Bodies of my Friends should be interred, and given as a Prey to the Worms; but still I cannot but think the old way of burning, and preserving their Ashes in Urns, much more cleanly, and more noble; that Fire is more respectful than Putrefaction and Stench; an Element, which even Religion hath given some Countenance to, by commanding the Remainders of the Paschal Lamb heretofore to be burnt: But what can we do worse than to cast our Friends to rot in the ground, and be eaten by Vermine and Infects; an Indignity, which to Me seems fit to be offered, only to those Scandalous Wretches, who die by the Hands of Common Executioners; but the Remains of Persons of Honour and Virtue (in my poor Apprehension) should be otherwise treated. For of the five several ways by which dead Bodies are capable of being disposed of, (the committing them to the mercy of the four several Elements, or suffering them to be devoured by Beasts;) that of Burning seems to me much the most eligible.  
Once more. I am well enough pleased to have the Wise Man of my forming look out of Countenance, and take care to decline and conceal every thing that passes for Immodest in the Esteem of the World; and must have a very ill Opinion of him, should he do otherwise: But then I desire he should be satisfied, that this is due from him in regard to the Customs and common Sentiments of other people; not to any shame in the Nature of the Things themselves. For Nature, that is, the God of Nature, never made any thing which was reproachful, and these Ignominies are purely accidental; the product of Sin, which is the Greatest Enemy and Corrupter of Nature. Even Religion itself, which is much more Chaste and Reserved than Philosophy, assures us, that while Man continued in his Original Innocence and Perfection, there was no such thing as Shame; but That and Gild entered the World at once.  
I comply with the Mode of my own Country, in point of  and Dress; and so I would have gone Naked too, if my Lot had cast me in a Country where it is usual to do so. But to Me both these Fashions appear so inconvenient, that, were I left to my own Choice entirely, I should do neither. The manner of those Nations, which use some One slight Garment, plain and light, without Constraint, or Ceremony, or Great Expense, is much the best in my apprehension. For the multitude of , and the different Sorts of them, but especially the Vanity and abominable Extravagance the World is guilty of in them, is a thousand times worse than going Naked. These Instances I content myself with the mention of at present; my Reader may multiply them to himself at pleasure, upon Occasion of the infinite Variety of Laws and Customs, and Modes, and Matters of Fact; and the as great Variety in Opinions too, and contests in Matter of Right, and what is fit to be done, as well as what is actually done.  
If any shall suppose me in the wrong, as to the foregoing Instances, or object against this Liberty in general, as an Indulgence of dangerous Consequence; That by this means men's minds will never settle, but they will be eternally lost in a Wood, and fill their heads with idle and fantastical Notions: I answer, as to the former part, which relates more immediately to myself; that it is very possible I may lie under a mistake in some or all of those Cases; but than it argues great Confidence thus to charge any man with being in the wrong; for such a one does in effect assume to himself the knowledge of Exact Truth, and seems to say, that He is Master of it, though others be not. Nor should I much be mortified, though the Charge were true: for the not hitting upon the Right, is no certain Argument, that a man judges amiss. For This consists in not giving Arguments their due weight, not confronting them fairly, nor holding the Scales even; not measuring by the Level and Standard of Universal Reason, and Nature in her primitive Perfection. Now a man may discharge the examining part very faithfully and diligently, and yet he may not attain to the Truth notwithstanding. But, to deal plainly, I give no Credit to any thing till it be proved to me. If the Objector brings me stronger and more weighty Reasons against my Opinion, than any I have to urge in defence of it, I bid him hearty welcome; and shall thank him for the opportunity which his Contradiction gives me, to exercise this Judicial Authority with so much greater accuracy. I only take up with my present Thoughts, till better Information give me Cause to change them; and therefore they are only upon good liking; ready to be dismissed, when more rational ones may succeed in their stead.  
But, as to the more general part of the Objection, which regards the dangerous Consequences and pernicious Effects of such a Liberty; besides what hath been urged already, and will be more at large hereafter, (That the Rule, by which our Judgements are to be directed, is Nature and Universal Reason, which so long as we keep close to, we are secure from Error:) the Second Branch of this Judicious Liberty, will provide us with Remedies against this supposed Mischief; and That is what I shall now apply myself to treat of particularly and fully.  
The Other branch then of this Absolute Liberty of Soul, consists in a sort of Indifference, and a Suspending one's Judgement and Final Resolution. By This the Wise Man preserves his Temper; his Affections are not engaged, and so he can consider every thing without Heat or Passion: He is not at all provoked by Opposition, not staked down to any one Notion; but keeps an Ear always open for the Contrary Party, and is ready to receive either the Truth, or that which seems to make a nearer Approach, and carry greater Resemblance to it, than the Ideas he hath entertained already. When he seems most determined, his secret Sense goes no farther, than This is my present Opinion; and I have reason to embrace it above any other: but still he can hear it contradicted without any Disorder, and satisfy himself to know all that can be said against it; and if what is offered preponderateth, he makes no scruple to change his Mind; and constantly, even of That Opinion which stuck last by him, he goes no farther in vindication, than that possibly there may be some other better grounded, but this is the Best that he hath met with. Now this Suspension and Indifference I speak of, is built upon several famous Maxims entertained and propagated by the Greatest Philosophers, and likewise upon the Freedom they used in their Writings and Behaviour. For this Quality must be confessed to have been the concurrent Practice, and avowed Principle of Wise Men in all Ages; the Most, and most conspicuous among them have made no scruple openly to confess their Ignorance, and their Doubts; saying, That all Nature was full of Difficulties and Dilemmas; That nothing was more certain than Uncertainty; That there was scarce any thing so plain, but an Ingenious Man might bring plausible and almost equal Arguments for Either side of the Question; and a thousand other such Say; by which they remarkably argued a distrust of their own Judgements. The rest of them, though upon some occasions they have proceeded somewhat dogmatically, and delivered their Minds boldly and positively; yet seem rather to have dissembled their Doubts, than not to have had any; and to put the best face they could upon the matter, that the World might see how far their Wit would carry them, in the Search of Truth; a Thing 
* Quam Docti fingunt, magis quàm nôrunt.  which Learned Men seem rather to have framed an Idea of to themselves, than to have known her as she is. For after all their boasts of attaining her, their Courage fails them at last, and the Things uttered by them they dare not venture to bestow any more honourable Titles upon, than that of Probabilities, and Appearances of Truth; and while they represent them variously, sometimes in one prospect, and form; and sometimes in another; by Questions, and Problems, and Ambiguous Disputes; as if their design was rather to inquire, than to teach; and that they sought Information themselves, while they pretend to give it to others; from all this I say, and the whole current of their Style, we may reasonably gather, that they wrote and spoke, not so much with a design to establish a Notion, or render it unquestionable, as for Diversion, and to Exercise their Wits; as one says, We cannot be sure what their opinions were, or that they really believed their own Writings, for indeed 
* No●●●●m id sensiffe quod dicerent, quàm exercere ingenia ma●●●●●●●●●cultate voluisse videntur.  they seem not to have designed we should gather their Sense of things, so much as that we should observe and admire their Parts and Skill, by those Trials, which the nicety and difficulty of their Subject put them upon. And who can ever persuade himself, that Plato intended his Republic and fanciful Ideas should ever pass for Current Doctrine; or that Pythagoras in advancing his Numbers, and Epicurus his Atoms, spoke their own real Opinions, and such as they thought were weighed and measured Truths? They pleased and entertained their own Minds with these nice Speculations, but 
† 〈…〉 singuntur, non ex Scientiae vi.  the Notions were owing more to the Fruitfulness of their own Inventions, than to any strength of Proof, or force of Knowledge. And indeed they may seem sometimes to have gone out of the common road on purpose, and with great Industry to have sought somewhat of Difficulty, the better to amuse the world, by thus concealing the Vanity of the Subjects they were upon, and to furnish matter for the gratifying their Reader's Curiosity. How wretchedly is Aristotle the very Idol of these Dogmatists confounded and at a loss? How inconsistent with himself, and forced sometimes to confess the Impotence of Human Nature, and how short the most inquistive come of the Truth?  
Those, that afterwards signalised themselves by a more positive and magisterial way of Writing, and from thence got the Title of Dogmatists, were Men of a Pedantic, and presumptuous Temper. They, it is true, condemn and detest this Rule of Wisdom; and were fonder of a  peremptory Fellow, though contrary to their own Party and Judgement; than of a peaceable, sedate. and modest Man, who contents himself with Doubting, and declines the pronouncing any thing definitively; that is, in plain English, they esteem a rash Fool, more than a Cautious Wise Man. (Like Women, who take it ill not to be contradicted, and had rather be answered rudely, than not at all. Because they think the Coldness and Indifference of Silence argues greater Contempt and Disdain, than it is possible for the most injurious Language to express.) In which they betray great perverseness and injustice. For what reason can be given, why a Man should not be allowed to suspend his Judgement, and still to deliberate upon things as Doubtful, without venturing to affirm on either side; when They at the same time take a privilege of determining as They see fit? Is not there the same Equity at least, the same Right for the one, as for the other? and what mighty Crime is it frankly to confess one's self Ignorant, when he is really so; and to say nothing, when he cannot speak with good Assurance, and full Satisfaction?  
It is certain, that all Philosophers are agreed so much to our disadvantage, as to pronounce, that we are Ignorant of a great deal more than we know; nay, that our Knowledge is not comparable, not fit to be mentioned in competition with our Ignorance. The Causes of which are infinite; for we may be mistaken in the Objects of our Enquiry, by reason of their being too near or too distant; too great or too small; of too long, or too short duration; and in perpetual Flux and Uncertainty. These Causes of Error proceed from the Object, but then there are infinite Others owing to ourselves, and our Manner of Perception; which in truth is not yet universally agreed upon, nor perfectly well understood. What we think ourselves sure of we do not really know, nor can we be secure of continuing in our present Opinion any time. For how often do we see fresh Arguments extort it from us? or, if our Obstinacy will hold it fast, in despite of all Reasons to the Contrary; yet at least they raise a dust, and disturb us in the Possession of it. Now I would be glad to know, which way a man shall ever be capable of improving his Judgement, if he fasten himself down to some certain notions; resolving to look and examine no farther, nor enduring to hear any thing offered in prejudice of an Opinion, which he fancieth himself abundantly satisfied in already. The plain Truth is; Men are ashamed of this Suspense I am treating of, because they have a wrong Notion of it. They look upon it as a Sign of Want of Judgement; whereas in reality the Greatest and most judicious Philosophers that ever lived, were the most frank in this Point. The Idea of Positiveness and Presumption hath taken such fast hold of them, and they think Dogmaticalness and Learning so inseparable, that they are out of Countenance in any case to own their Ignorance, lest This should be thought a Reflection upon their Parts and Attainments. There is no persuading them, that there is a sort of Ignorance and Doubt, more Learned, more Generous; and consistent with better Assurance, and more accurate Knowledge, than all Their boasted Science and Certainty. This gave that great renown to Socrates, and entitled him to the Character of the Wisest Man of his Age: This is the Fruit of Study, and deep enquiry; it is a modest, candid, innocent, and hearty acknowledgement, of the sublime mysterious Nature of Truth; and the Defects and Poverty of our own Understanding; so weak within, so beset with Mists and Darkness without, and from Both so uncertain, and unsteady in its Resolutions. The Lord knoweth the Thoughts of Man, that they are but vain, says the Psalmist: And another Author, that, 
* Cogitationes mortalium timidae, incertae adinventiones nostrae & Providentiae.  The thoughts of Mortal Men are full of Fears and Misgivings; their Inventions uncertain, and all their Forecasts Dark and Confused. And I, for my own part am so fully possessed of this Truth, that I have ordered this Motto, I know not: Je ne scay; to be engraved over the Gate of my little House which I built at Condom.  
Now there are a sort of Persons, who take it ill, that Men should not submit themselves absolutely, and fix on some certain Principles; which ought, they tell you, never to be examined or controverted at all. Now I allow, that if These be such as manifest themselves to a Man's Reason, they ought to be received; but that merely upon the account of their Reasonableness, and not for the pompous Name of Principles. To impose any thing unconditionally, is Tyranny and Usurpation; and though upon due Consideration, and the Approbation of my own Judgement, I allow them, yet if they will not admit me to try whether they be Sterling or Counterfeit, before I take them for current Coin; this is a Condition full of Hardship and such as I can never yield to. For who, I would fain know, hath power to give Law to our Thoughts, to enslave our Minds, and set up Principles, which it shall not be lawful to inquire into; or admit any manner of doubt concerning them? I can own no such Power in any but God; and He hath it upon the account of his being Truth itself; the Supreme Spirit, and the only Principle and Source of all things: which makes it as reasonable to believe Him upon his bare word, as it is, not to believe other people barely upon Theirs. For this Foundation of our Belief being One of his Incommunicable Perfections, it will unavoidably follow, that no other thing is injured or disparaged, by out refusing the same entire Resignation to it, and challenging our Right of Examining, before we yield our Assent.  
If a Man requires my Belief to what are commonly styled by the Name of Principles, my Answer shall be the same with that of a late Prince to the several Sects in his Kingdom, Agree among yourselves first, and then I will give my Consent too. Now the Controversies are really as great about these Principles, as they are concerning the Conclusions advanced upon them; as many doubts upon the Generals as the Particulars; so that in the midst of so many contending Parties, there is no coming in to any One, without giving offence, and proclaiming War upon all the rest.  
They tell us farther, that it is a horrid uneasy state of Mind, to be always thus upon the Float; and never coming to any settled Resolution, to live in Eternal Doubt and Perplexity of Thought; nay, that it is not only painful, but very difficult, and almost impracticable, to continue long in such Uncertainty. They speak this, I suppose, from their own Experience; and tell us what they feel themselves: But this is an Uneasiness peculiar to foolish and weak people. To the Former, because Fools are presumptuous, and passionate, and Violent espousers of Parties and Opinions; full of Prejudices, and strong Possessions; fierce Condemners of all that differ from them; never yielding the Cause, nor giving out the Dispute, though they be really convinced; and supplying the want of Reason by Heat and Anger, instead of ingenuous Acknowledgements of their Error. If they find themselves obliged to change their Opinion, you have them then as peremptory and furious in their new Choice, as ever they were in their first Principles; in short, They know not what it is to maintain an Argument, without Passion; and when they dispute, it is not for the sake of Truth or Improvement, but purely for Contradiction, and the Last Word, and to assert their own Notions. These Men I make no Scruple to call Fools; for in truth they know nothing; not so much as what it is to know; so exceeding pert and confident are they; and insult as if they carried Truth about in their Pockets, and it was their own incommunicable Property.  
As for Men of Weak Judgements, and such as are not able to stand upon their own Legs; it is very necessary they should not be left alone, but seek a Support from persons of better and more discerning Abilities: But These are not concerned in my present Rule; it is their Misfortune to be born to Slavery, and out of all Capacity to enjoy the Freedom I am treating of.  
But as for Wise Men, who are qualified for it, Men of Modesty and Reserve, and prudent Candour, It is the most composed State of Mind that can be; and puts us into a Condition of Firmness, and Freedom, of Stable and Uninterrupted Happiness. 
* Ho liberiores & solutiores sumus, quia integra nobis judicandi potestas manet.  We are so much less under Constraint than other Men, by how much more our Minds enlarge themselves, and the Liberty of judging is preserved entire. This is a safe course to steer, and keeps us off from many dangerous Rocks and Shelves; which Warmth, and Rashness, and a Positive conceited Humour Drives Men upon. It delivers us from the vain prepossessions of Fancy, and Popular Mistakes; from the Precipitation of thinking wrong at first, and the Shame of retracting when we come to think better afterwards; from Quarrels and Disputes, and engaging in, or becoming offensive to Parties: For, take which side you please, you are sure to have a great many against you; And a Zealous Espouser of any Cause must unavoidably live in a constant State of Wrangling and War. In a Word, This Suspension of the Judgement keeps us snug and under a Covert, where the Inconveniences and Calamities which affect the Public will seldom sensibly affect, and scarce can ever involve us; At a distance from those Vices and vehement Agitations, which ruffle and discompose first Men's own Minds, and then Human Society in general. For this Fierceness and Peremptoriness, is at once the Spawn, and the Parent of Pride and Insolence; Ambition and Vainglory, and Immoderate Desires; Presumption and Disdain; Love of Novelty and Change; Rebellion and Disobedience in the State; Heresy and Schism in the Church; Faction, and Hatred, and Contention in Both. These are all of the same lineage and descent. These are begun, fomented, inflamed by your Hot, and Positive, and Opinionative Men; not by the Modest and Doubting Men, who are cautious and tender, never Over-confident of themselves, and content to believe, that others are at least in a possibility of being in the right; all which are but so many other Names for Wife, and well-tempered Men.  
I will advance yet one Step farther, and venture to affirm, that the Temper of Mind I am now recommending, is so far from having any ill Influence upon Piety, and Religion, that it is extremely well calculated to serve and promote it; whether we regard the first Propagation among Unbelievers, or Preserving a due Reverence of it, where it is already received. Divinity, and especially that part of it which is Mysterious and Revealed, tells us plainly, that the Mind must be cleansed and purified, in order to receive those Heavenly Truths, and the Impressions of the Holy Spirit. That God will not inhabit our Souls, till all Corrupt Opinions as well as Affections are cast out; for, with regard to both, we shall do well to understand those Commands of Purging away the old Leaven, and putting off the Old Man. From whence we may collect, that the most compendious and successful method of planting the Christian Religion among Infidels, would be first to establish them in the Belief of these following Propositions. That all the Knowledge of this World hath a large embasement of Vanity and Falshood attending it: That the Generality of Mankind are deluded with fantastical Notions, the Forgeries of their own Brain: That God created Man to the End he might acquaint himself with the Divine Nature and Dispensations, and employ his Soul, and sinned his Happiness in these noble Contemplations: But that, in this decayed and declining State, Man is not capable of discovering Truth by his own Strength: That there is consequently a Necessity of God (who is Truth) manifesting it to him: That God hath in much Mercy vouchsafed to do this by particular Revelations: That it is He who inspires Men with a Desire of Truth, as well as he provides for the Gratifying that Desire: That in order to dispose and qualify ourselves for being instructed in the Divine Revelations, we must abandon all worldly and carnal Opinions, and as it were, bring our Minds, a pure blank for God to write his Will in. When these Points are gained, and Men are in such preparation to resign themselves to Truth, than it will be time to lay the foundations, and instil some of the first and plainest Principles of Christianity: To show them, That these Doctrines came down from Heaven: That the Person, who vouchsafed to bring them was a faithful Ambassador, and entire Confident of God: One who knew his whole Will exactly: That his Authority was abundantly confirmed, by infinite Testimonies, such as were miraculous, supernatural, and so authentic proofs, because capable of coming from no other Hand but God's only. Thus this Innocent and candid Suspense and Unresolvedness of Mind, would prove a happy Instrument toward the creating, and first begetting a Knowledge and Belief of the Truth where it is not: Nor would the Essicacy of it be less in preserving it, where it is planted, and hath taken root already. For such a Modest Caution and Deference would undoubtedly prevent all manner of Singularity, and Daring Extravagance in Opinions; but to be sure, it would absolutely put a Stop to Heresies and Public Divisions. You will answer me perhaps, that the Temper I am describing, As it is too full of Indifference to make any Heretics, So is it too, to make any good Catholics; and that the Danger of it is, At last degenerating into Scepticism, and want of Zeal for all Religions. Were the Condition of Religion the same in all points with That of other Notions, and Philosophy in general, I allow there would be force in this Objection. But as it is, this is not to argue from my Rules, but to pervert them. I have already said, That Religion stands upon a firm undoubted bottom of its own. That God in this differs from all his Creatures; that whatever He says is exempted from the Common Rules of Enquiry; and there can but one Question lie before us, which is, Whether he hath said it or no: When once this appears to us, there is no room for suspending our Judgements any longer; no pretence for Neutrality, or Liberty of Thought, nor a questioning How these things can be? God cannot lie, and we cannot err in believing Him; but for all things else, the more cautious and curious, and the more lose and disengaged we keep our Mind with regard to Them, the Safer and Easier we shall be. I have made a sort of Digression here, in Honour of the Rule I am recommending, that those who profess themselves Enemies to it may find their great Objection obviated. In which, if I have trespassed upon my Reader's Patience, I ask his pardon: And now to our Business again.  
After these two Qualities, of Judging all things, and fixing our Minds obstinately upon Nothing, follows the Third Qualification, which is, a Largeness, or Universality of Soul. By Virtue of This the Wise Man casts his Eyes, expands and stretches out his Thoughts over all this vast Universe; with Socrates becomes a Citizen of the World, and takes in all Mankind for his Neighbours and Countrymen. Looks down, like the Sun, with an equal, steady, and indifferent Eye, upon the Changes and Vicissitudes here below, as things that cannot reach, nor have the power to change Him. This is the Security, the Privilege of a Wise Man, That which resembles him to the Powers above, and renders him a sort of God upon Earth. 
* Magna & generosa res animus humanus, nullos Tibi poni, nisi communes & cum Deo terminos patitur: Non idem sapientem qui caeteros terminus includit, omnia il●i saecula ut Deo serviunt. Nulium Saeculum magnis ingeniis Cl●usum; nullum non cogitationi pervium tempus. Quam natutale in immensum mentem suam extendere? & hoc à Naturâ formatus homo ut paria Diis velit, ac se in spatium suum extend●t.  The Mind of Man (says Seneca) is a great and generous Being, and is bounded no otherwise than the Divinity itself. The Wise Man is not confined to the same narrow compass with the rest of the World. No Age, no Time, no Place limit his thoughts, but he penetrates and passes beyond them all. How agreeable is it to Nature for a Man to stretch his Mind infinitely? For Nature hath form him to this very purpose, that he should emulate the Gods, and like Them fill his own Infinite Space. This I confess is a sort of Stoical Rant: But thus much is strictly true; That the Bravest, and most capacious Souls are always most of this Universal Temper; as on the Contrary, the meanest and most incapable, are most cramped, have the narrowest Notions; and are always particular in their Judgements of Men and Things, aptest to be positive themselves, and to condemn all that dissent from them. It is in Truth great Folly and Weakness, to imagine that all Nations are bound to think and act just as we do; and, that none live as they ought, who do not comply, and agree in every point with what obtains in our own little Village or our Native Country: to think, that the Accidents which happen to Us, are general and in common, and must needs affect and extend to the whole World equally. This Senseless Wretch, when you tell him of Opinions, and Customs, and Laws, directly opposite to those he hath been bred up in; without more ado, condemns and expresses the greatest Detestation of them imaginable, and rails at the people, as Rude and Uncivilized; or else he gives no credit to these accounts, but looks upon them, as the Romantic Tales of Travellers, who take liberties of representing Foreigners very oddly to those that cannot disprove them; so absolutely enslaved are his Judgement and Assections to his own Municipal Constitutions; so impossible is it, as he thinks, that any but These should be true, or agreeable to Nature; and therefore he is verily persuaded they must needs, or at least should be Universal too. It is exceeding common to traduce every thing with the Reproachful name of Barbarism, that we do not fancy, or see frequently practised at home; and to depend upon the Example and the Ideas of the Persons, with whom we converse, the Notions and the Usage of our own Country, for the Test to distinguish Truth and Reason by. Now This is a mean and brutish debasement of the Soul, which we ought to get above; and to enlarge it, by looking no longer upon this Picture of Nature in Little; but take a view of her, as she is drawn at length, and in all her full proportions. The just Idea of Nature is to consider her, as the Common Mother of us all; an Universal Queen, whose Authority and Dominion hath the same limits with the World, (nay, extends to more Worlds, if (as some eminent persons have thought) more Worlds there be). This would inspire us with becoming and Great Apprehensions of her Majesty, and Beauty; There we should behold, as in an exquisite painting, a constant and endless variety of Things, and the longer we gazed, the more our Entertainment and our wonder would be. Infinite Difference in Humours, disagreeing Judgements, Opinions, Customs and Laws; Innumerable Disorders, Commotions, and Alterations in States and Kingdoms; surprising turns of Fortune in the Affairs of private Men; a World of Victories and Triumphs buried and lost in the Rubbish of Time; many Noble Entries and Processions, Pomps, and Grandeurs utterly vanished; and as if the Courts and Princes celebrated by them had never been at all. And by taking such a prospect as this, and observing how such different Things and Events, like Colours well mingled, conspire to make up a general Portraiture of the World; we shall learn our own littleness, and be surprised at nothing; nor esteem things at all new or incredible; nor be over-tenacious and positive in vindicating our own, and condemning the Practice of others; since it is not necessary, or at all Essential to Beauty, that all who pretend to it, should be of Our Complexion. And that the Darkness and Difference of other Nations, like the Shades in drawing, make a more grateful Variety; and are all agreeable and useful, for setting forth the Skill, of the Great, the Divine Artificer, whose Workmanship the Orginal, and the Life is.  
This large, brave, open, and universal Disposition of Mind is indeed scarce to be found, and hard to be compassed; and it is not every common Man, that can aspire to it. Nature hath not cut out all her Children for such an Excellence; no more than she hath qualified them all for that Wisdom and Perfection it leads to. But yet there are several Considerations, that may be serviceable in helping us toward it. Such is, First, what you find already insisted upon in the foregoing part of this Treatise, concerning the wonderful Variety, 
B. 1. Ch. 37, 38.  and vast difference observable in men; according to those qualities of Body and Mind, which Nature hath distributed so very unequally among them. Secondly, Those Differences Men have made among themselves, by the disagreeing Laws, and Customs, which obtain in several Nations, and Constitutions. To both which may be added the Strange Variety of Opinions which we find the Ancients received, and delivered down to Posterity, concerning the Age, the Condition, and the Changes of the World; which yet to Us seem to be very Romantic and Extravagant. 
* Concerning those Egyptian and Assyrian Calculations, see Bishop Pearson en the Creed, Art. 1. Page 58, 59 where he plainly refutes the Account, according to the common computation of years, from their own Authers.  The Egyptian Priests told Herodotus, that since the Reign of their first King (from which they reckoned down above Eleven thousand years, and shown the Statues of Him, and all his Successors, in the draughts taken from the Life) the Sun had changed his course four several times. The Chaldaeans in Diodorus his time, as He and Cicero both say, kept a Register and Annals, comprehending the Space of Four hundred thousand years. Plato tells us, that the Citizens of Sais had Memorials in Manuscript of Eight thousand years standing; and yet they owned, that the City of Athens was built a thousand years before that of Sais. Aristotle, and Pliny, and others, pretend that Zoroaster lived Six thousand years, before Plato was born: Some have advanced a Notion of the World's Existing from all Eternity, that it hath been destroyed and revived again several times, and hath, and will for ever hereafter, go through many such Vicissitudes. Others and Those some of the most renowned Philosophers, have held the World to be a God; but yet of so inferior a Quality, as to derive its Form and present Being from another, and much greater God; or else, as Plato, and some others have been induced by the Motions of it, to affirm, with some degree of Confidence, that it is certainly an Animal, consisting of Body and Spirit: That the Soul or Spirit is lodged in the Centre of the Universe; but though its chief Residence be there, yet it expands itself all over, to the very utmost parts of the Circumference, and that its Influences are conveyed and communicated in Musical Numbers: That the several parts of it too, thus animated and directed, as the Heaven and the Stars for instance, are made up of a Body and Soul; and these, though Mortal in respect of their compounded Nature, are yet Immortal by the determination of their Almighty Creator. Plato says, That the World puts on quite another face; that the whole Scene is shifted; that the Heaven and Stars vary so much in their motions, as quite to change sides; so that Before shall be Behind, and the Point which is East at one time, comes to be the West at another. There hath also been an Opinion of great Authority, much countenanced and promoted by the most eminent Philosophers, suitable to the Power and Majesty of God; and grounded upon fair and probable Reasons, that there is a Plurality of Worlds; for we see no other thing single or solitary but This, if This be so; All Species are multiplied in numbers, and therefore it is not unlikely, that God hath not left this part of his Workmanship quite desolate and alone; nor exhausted his whole power and skill in the forming of an Individual. Nay, even Divinity assures us, that God can make as many Worlds as he pleases; for upon a Supposition of the Contrary, we must affirm his Power to be but finite, because this World is so. And That were a Notion contradictory to the absolute Perfection of his Nature. Let it also be considered, how much we have learned toward the Rectifying our Notions of this kind, by the Improvement of Navigation, and the Discoveries lately made of a New World in the East and West-Indies. For by this we are plainly convinced, that all the Ancients were in a gross Error, when they imagined that they knew the utmost Extremities of the Habitable World; and had comprehended and delineated the whole Extent of the Earth in their Maps and Books of Cosmography, except only some few scattered remote Islands. And that they were perfectly in the dark about the Antipodes; For here, all on a sudden, starts up a New World just like our own Old one, placed upon a large Continent; inhabited, peopled, governed by Laws, and Civil Constitutions; cantoned out into Provinces, and Kingdoms, and Empires; adorned and beautified with noble Cities and Towns; larger, more magnificent, more delightful, more wealthy, than any that Asia, Africa, or Europe can show; and such they have been some thousands of Years. And have we not reason from hence to presume, that Time will hereafter make fresh discoveries of other Lands yet unknown? If P●olomy, and the Ancient Writers were mistaken in their accounts heretofore, I would be very glad to know, what better Security any Man can have of being in the right, who pretends that all is found out, and fully discovered now? If any man shall take the Confidence to be positive in this point, I shall take my liberty in believing him. Secondly, We find the Zones, which were looked on as uninhabitable, are very plentifully peopled. Thirdly, We find by experience, that the things which we profess to value ourselves most upon, and pretend to have had the earliest Intelligence of, have been received and practised in these lately-discovered Countries for a long time, and perhaps as soon and as long as we ourselves have observed, or had notice of them. I do not pretend to determine whence they had it. And that, whether we regard Religious Matters, and such as come to us by Revelation from Heaven; as for Instance, the Belief of One Single Man at first, the Universal Progenitor of all Mankind; the Universal Deluge; of a God that lived in human flesh, and took the Substance of a pure and holy Virgin; of a Day of General Judgement; of the Resurrection of the Dead; the Observation of Solemn Fasts; the Ornaments of those that minister in Holy things; the Surplice and the Mitre particularly; the Respect paid to the Cross; Circumcision like that of the Jews and Mahometans; and Counter-Circumcision, which makes it a point of Religion, to prevent all appearance of any such thing upon their Bodies: Or, whether we regard Civil Constitutions; as That of the Eldest Son inheriting his Father's Estate; Patent Honours taking new Names, and Titles, and laying down that of their Families; Subsidies to Princes; Armouries, and Fortifications: Diversions of Players and Mountebanks; Musical Instruments, and all kinds of Diversion, in use in these parts of the World; Artillery, and Printing. From all which it is very natural to deduce these following Inferences. That this huge Body, which we call the World, is very different from the common Apprehensions of Men concerning it. That it is not at all times, and in all places the same; but hath its Tides, its Ebb and Flow in perpetual Succession: That there is nothing so confidently asserted and believed in one place, but is as generally received, as peremptorily maintained, nay, as fiercely contradicted and condemned in another. And that the Original of all this, whether Agreement, or Difference, is to be resolve at last into the Nature of Man's Mind, which is susceptible of Ideas of all sorts: And that the World being in perpetual Motion, is sometimes at greater, and sometimes in less Agreement with itself, in the several parts of it. That all things are comprehended within the general Course of Nature, and subject to the Great Director of Universal Nature; and that they spring up, are altered, decay, and are abolished, according as He in his Wisdom thinks fit to vary them, by the Change put upon Seasons and Ages, Countries and Places, the Air, the Climate, the Soil, in which Men are born, and bred, and dwell. And lastly, That, as our Predecessors were but Men, so We are no more; and since the Errors in Their Judgement of Things are manifest, this should teach Us to distrust and suspect our own. And when These Inferences are justly made, the Result of them must needs be, to be inseparably wedded to no Opinion, to espouse none of our Arguments and Speculations too eagerly; to be astonished at nothing, though never so unusual; not to lose our Temper upon any Accident; But whatever happens, or how violent soever the Storm may be, to six upon this Resolution, and satisfy ourselves in it; That it is but according to the Course of Nature; and that He who governs the World works as he pleases; and proceeds by the Rules of his own Wisdom; and therefore all we have to do, is to take a prudent Care, that nothing may hurt us through our own Weakness, or Inconsideration, or Dejection of Spirit.  
Thus much I thought sufficient and indeed necessary to be said upon this perfect Liberty of Judgement, consisting of the Three Particulars so largely insisted on. And indeed so largely, by reason I am sensible, it is not suited to the Palate of the World; but denounces War against Pedants, and positive Pretenders; which are all of them Enemies to true Wisdom, as well as to this Principle of Mine. The Advantages whereof have been sufficiently represented already, the Mischiefs it prevents, and the Tranquillity it brings. This was the particular Character of Socrates, that Father and Chief of the Philosophers, and universally acknowledged as such: By This, (as Plutarch says,) though he had no Offspring of his own, yet he managed others so, as to make Them fruitful, and Midwifed their Productions into the World. This Temper is in some sense like that Ataraxie, which Pyrrho's Sceptical Followers called the Supreme Happiness of Man: But if that resemblance be a little over-strained, yet it may very well bear being compared to the Neutrality and Indifference, which the Sect of the Academics professed. And the Natural Effect of such a Temper is to be discomposed or astonished at nothing; which Pythagoras thought the Sovereign Good, and Aristotle called the True Greatness of Soul. So Horace; 

* 
Nil admirari prope res est una Numici,  
Solaque quae possit facere & servare beatum.  Horat. Epist. 6. L. 1.  Not to Admire, as most are wont to do,  
It is the only Method that I know,  
To make Men happy, and to keep them so.  Creech. And is it not a most amazing perverseness that Men cannot be prevailed with to make the Experiment; nay, that they should not bear to have it so much as recommended or mentioned; but prefer Slavery and Dependence, before living upon their own Stock, getting above Fortune, and making themselves easy and Masters at all times, and places, and upon all Accidents alike? May we not most justly cry out with Tiberius, more justly indeed than He did, (O Wretches, born to be Slaves!) How absurd is it, that we, who are such Patrons, and Sticklers for Liberty in the Case of our Bodies, Estates, and all other Properties, should not bear to have our Mind free, which after all is the only Freeborn thing, that belongs to any of us? We seek and employ conveniences fetched from all parts of the World, count no expense too great, for the Health, the Service, the Ornament of the Body; but grudge every thing for the improvement and enriching of the Mind. In short, We are so partial, as to take all possible pains, that the Body may be at large, while the Soul is fettered, and cooped up in Prison.  
The other Branch of this Liberty, in which the Will is concerned, is of yet greater value, in which the Wills is concerned, is of yet greater value, 
Liberty of the Will.  and aught to be more endeavoured after by a Wise Man, as indeed it is more serviceable to him, than the former. Now here I think it necessary to admonish my Reader, that the Matter under our present Consideration, is not that Faculty and Privilege of Human Nature, which Philosophers and Divines commonly style , nor shall we treat of it in the same Method with Them: But my meaning is, That a Wise Man ought to preserve his own Ease and Quiet, to keep his Will and Affections free and disengaged; and to lay them out upon very few objects; and those such as may justify his Choice; (For indeed the things that deserve our Choice and challenge our Affections, if nicely examined, will be found but very few.) But this is not all; For even Those, that deserve them best, will not justify our Vehemence, and Eagerness, and immoderate Fondness of them. And here I find myself under some necessity of encountering two very popular and plausible Opinions. The One is That which teaches us to be always forward to serve other people; to lay aside all thoughts of one's self, for the sake of our Neighbours; and especially, when the Public Good is concerned, pretends that no private Interest ought to come in Competition with it; And the Other prompts us to espouse such Matters with all possible Zeal, and to the very utmost of our power. He that declines the Former, is accused of wanting Good nature, and a public Spirit; and He that is remiss in the Latter, is suspected of Coldness and Indifference; want of Generosity, and the Zeal that is required of a Good Man, and in short, reputed incapable of making a Friend. Now whatever there may really be at the bottom of these Opinions, yet it is plain, the World have overloaded the Foundation, and built such Notions upon it, as exceed all Reason and Measure; and nothing can be more Romantic and Extravagant, than what we sinned delivered upon these Occasions. For our Governors, who feel the Advantage of them, oftentimes infuse Principles into us, not according to the true merits of the Cause, but in proportion as they perceive they may prove serviceable and beneficial: And it frequently falls out, that those Opinions, which are in themselves most reasonable and true, are not most convenient to be generally entertained. And besides this, Observing how natural the Love of ourselves and our own private Advantage is, and what Partialities and unreasonable Excesses it is apt to carry us into, they thought it necessary to divert and draw us off as far from This as possibly; and so took the Common Course of bending the Crooked Stick the Contrary way, that it might at last stand straight by being forced toward the other Extreme.  
1 These Opinions, when misunderstood, and misapplied, (which is commonly the Fate of most Opinions, when they fall into the hands of a Multitude) occasion great Injustice, and Disorder, many Difficulties, and grievous Mischiefs. As we may plainly observe in those persons, that snap at every bait of this kind; let themselves out to hire as it were; and devote all their Time and Pains to the service of other people. These men do not only suffer themselves to be managed, and taken absolute Possession of by their Friends; but they thrust themselves forward of their own accord, and will have an Oar in every Boat: It is indifferent to Them, whether the Matter concerns them, or not; whether it be of greater consequence, or of none at all; still they Interess themselves in all alike; for indeed they often do it merely to keep themselves in Motion and Employment; It stirs their Spirits, put their Soul into a pleasing sort of Agitation; and thus 
* In Negotio sunt negotij causà.  they are busy purely because they love to be so. They cannot bear the having nothing to do; nor can they confine their Thoughts to their own Affairs; but either do not see, or carelessly overlook them: and so seek Employment abroad, and meddle and turn undertakers in things that are foreign and distant, as if they had nothing at all to do at home; no concerns that are essential and necessary to be followed; no personal, no domestic Cares, that lie upon their hands; such as ought to be first dispatched; and which, if duly attended to, would leave no room for Sloth, nor leisure so great, as should prove a Temptation to us, to turn Managers for other people, that we may keep ourselves in Action. Many of these persons are good husbands of their purse, and careful not to part with a Penny of Money, but upon valuable considerations; but they are unreasonably prodigal of their Soul, their Life; squander away their Time and their Pains, their Affections and their Will, most profusely and unaccountably; dedicate Themselves and all their Powers, to any occasions that calls for their Assistance; And yet when all is done, These are the valuable Treasures, of which we ought to be exceeding choice and sparing; and in such Instances it is chief, that Frugality and good Management are commendable. But alas! the Persons we speak of are so far from this, that they glory in their Extravagance; act all with such Violence, and Passion, that they are lost to Reason and common Sense; and never think they do enough, till they have engaged as deep as is possible; and given up their Persons, and their Wits both, to the Cause they espouse. Great Men make their Advantage of such Tempers as these; Men that will be eager, and angry, and expose, nay lose their lives upon pretences of Friendship, and Punctilios of Honour and Respect, are special Tools for Their purpose. And they are not wanting to countenance and caress them, throw out large Promises, and use a thousand little Stratagems to draw them in, and six them to their Party; But though Fools believe and are caught by them, yet Wise Men know this is all Trick and Design; that there is Deceit in the Bait, and Death upon the Hook; and that all their fair Carriage and large Promises are designed not at all to serve Us, but to serve themselves of us.  
Now, First of all, This Temper we have been describing, puts all into confusion, exposes the Mind to perpetual uneasiness, and brings it into a State of absolute Slavery. It argues Ignorance of that, which every one ought to know, and that is, how much he owes to himself, and what the Obligations are, and the Offices arising from them, which are first and strictly due at home. All which these persons violate; for while they are so mighty officious, and liberal in the service of other people, they injure and defraud themselves; and spend that Stock of Ease and Comfort, which is their own due, and aught to be preserved. Besides; if we desire Business, Providence hath cut us out enough of our own; let us but look at home, and discharge the Duty of our respective Stations diligently; but especially, let us but look within; and we shall be far from finding any occasion to ask for work of our Neighbours: The difficulty will then be to dispatch that which they ask of Us; and instead of laying ourselves out upon every body's business besides, we shall then find our hands Full, and a necessity of keeping close to our own. He that takes care to live as becomes his Virtue and his Honour; so as may preserve his health, and give him a contented and cheerful Enjoyment of the World, hath enough to do; and He that neglects or impairs any of these, merely to do another service, is ill advised; and under colour of Good-nature to his Friend, is guilty of great Injustice and Ill-nature to himself. To oblige and assist others, so far as may be consistent with the securing these things to ourselves, is sufficient; but to go beyond that, is to break our Duty in one particular, while we supererogate in another. He is an unreasonable Man, that expects one should sacrifice his Virtue, or his Happiness to him; and He is a very foolish Man, that will do it, if it be expected. And therefore I repeat again a Direction given just now, That a Man ought to espouse and devote himself to but very few things; and to take care that these be such, as will justify the setting his heart upon them; and They, to be sure, can be but very few.  
Secondly, This Eagerness of Intention and vehement concern is not only unfit and unjust in other respects, but it is also an Inconvenience to itself. For it puts Men beside their measures, and proves the greatest hindrance and perplexity that can be, to that very Undertaking, which we are so impatient to accomplish, and have set our hearts so much upon. As, when we strive to go exceeding fast, our legs sink under us, or step awry, or interfere, and stop one another. 
* Ipsa se velocitas implicat, unde Festinatio tarda est. Qui nimium properat seriùs absolvit.  The very Swiftness of the Pace confounds itself, so that even Hast breeds delay. And he that gins too fast is slowest in finishing. Thus it is likewise with the Mind of a Man, when Intoxicated with this forward and furious vehemence of Intention; he confounds and hampers himself; betrays himself to Indiscretion and Injustice in his proceed; renders himself suspected, and hardly thought of, giveth offence and ground of Resentment to others; and puts his own Mind upon a perpetual Fret and Ferment; as oft as any thing happens, that either defeats or delays the Success he is labouring after. 
† Male cuncta ministrat— mdash; mdash; Impetus.  Heat and Violence never manage any thing well. We may observe it daily, what Advantages men lose, and how great an Injury they do to themselves, their Business, the Cause and Party they espouse, by this want of Temper; even to the ruin of the fairest and most promising Expectations, in matters of the greatest Importance. And the thing is no less evident too, in the most common and insignificant cases. In a matter so frivolous as Play, for instance, where He that is eagerest and most intent upon Winning, breaks the rules and proper methods, overlooks the advantages of the Game, and contributes to his own Loss. Whereas an Adversary that plays calmly and sedately, hath always his Eyes and his Wits about him; his Passion never transports his Reason; but he makes the best of every Chance, and does not only enjoy the Diversion, but bid fairest for the Success. He makes his Feints, and Doubles; and lays hold on every favourable occasion; if he fail of his design, he bears it with Moderation, and makes it up another time; is always ready to observe and to improve every Change of Fortune; and by jogging on leisurely, and keeping the Reins in his own hand, comes soon and safest to his Journey's End.  
This leads us to a Third Remark of very great Consequence, which is, that this vehement and eager Zeal infects the Mind, and corrupts the Judgement. For while Men are addicted to one Person or Party, and wholly set upon promoting Their Advantage, they go furiously to work, and strain every thing beyond its due pitch. They extol their Favourites and Partners in the same Cause with undeserved Commendations; and load their Adversaries with odious Characters, and false Accusations; turn Superstitious to the last degree; and interpret every Event as ominous, and a Prognostication of Good in favour of themselves and Friends; and a plain declaration of Providence, against those that are engaged in opposition to them. Nay, they carry this Folly so far, as not to see or allow any Virtue or Good quality in their Adversaries; represent them as Vicious and Villains, and would have us believe, that all who think, and act, and design otherwise, than They themselves do, must be either Knave●, or Fools, and Madmen; and those who are more just and moderate in their Sentiments, that observe any real Virtues, and give due Praises to those that disser from them, are presently suspected to be of the same Party and Principle; merely for their Charity in vindicating or excusing, and not running into the same Excess of Partiality and Prejudice, the same unreasonable Censures and Condemnations, with these  Zealots. Whereas indeed nothing can be more extravagant, than to imagine that a Man who is not one of Us cannot possibly be a Good Man; and that he may not, for the main, or at least in some cases where the Point in difference is no way concerned, be very honest and commendable, though it be his unhappiness, to be under a wrong persuasion, and in some particulars embarked in the Interest or Opinions of those who are very naughty Men. That Passion should commit a violence upon the Will, is but too much; but that it should debauch and blind the Judgement, and destroy Charity and common Sense, is abominable, and not to be endured. And Men should by all means think themselves obliged to proceed with Equity and Candour; to see and to acknowledge Goodness, wherever it is to be found, though in the worst and most mistaken Enemies; and not to palliate, or overlook, much less to defend and applaud the Vices and Follies of our Friends and Followers; but to lay aside all private Considerations, and frankly to express our Detestation of these things, let the persons guilty of them be who, or what they will. The contrary wicked practice (for a very wicked one it is) seems to proceed in great measure from want to considering and distinguishing aright, what the Points in difference are, and how far they extend. For it is most certain, that where the Controversy is no way concerned, we ought to behave ourselves with all manner of Indifference; and pass fair and equitable Judgements, as we would do, supposing no Dispute or Disagreement at all. And Resentments should never be carried beyond that particular Subject which provokes them; nor Anger, of all Passions, suffered to grow general and unlimited. And These are some of the many Evils, which too great Eagerness and Intention of Mind naturally brings upon Men, let the Matter we set our hearts so much upon, be what it will; for this Disposition is capable of Excess, and liable to Inconveniences, when fixed upon the very best Object; and a Man may suffer by being too vehement and hot, in the pursuit even of Goodness and Wisdom itself.  
Now in order to moderate this Affectionate Earnestness, and reduce the Mind to due Temper; every Man ought to remember, that the most important thing given us in charge by God and Nature, that to which we have the strongest Obligations, and consequently such as ought to be first satisfied, is, That Every Man should look well to his conduct: This good management of ourselves is the very business upon which we were sent into the World at first, and are continued in it still. And this Duty we do by no means discharge faithfully, except the Peace, and Tranquillity, and Liberty of our Minds be consulted and preserved. And preserved these cannot be, unless we make it our Principle and Rule, to Lend ourselves to a Friend, but to Give ourselves up to none but ourselves; to take business in hand, but not to lay it to heart; to bear it as a burden, and be content with sustaining the weight of it upon our shoulders, but not to incorporate and unite with it, by making it inseparable and a part of ourselves; to bestow all possible Diligence, but not to misplace and throw away our Affections, upon it; to fasten eagerly upon very few things, and to stick to them only so, as still to continue at our own pleasure. This is the true, the sovereign Remedy, against all the Inconveniences and Uneasinesses formerly mentioned; and this is not any such selfish or narrow-spirited advice, as some may imagine. It does not condemn or exclude any of those Duties or good Offices required from us; it does not prejudice to the Public, our Friends, or our Neighbours; so far from That, that it is most certain We are bound by all the Ties of Honour and Religion, to be courteous and kind, assisting and serviceable to one another; to comply with the Customs and Occasions of the World, and apply ourselves to the observance of the one, and the Supply of the other, as our Circumstances will permit; and in order hereunto, every man is obliged to contribute to the Common Good; and conscientiously to perform all those Duties and mutual Offices, which any way concern him, as a Member of the Body Politic, and may conduce to the Benefit of Human Society. 
* Qui sibi amious est, hunc omnibus seito esse amicum.  He that is a Friend to himself, is a Friend to all Mankind; for the Love and Care of one's self is so far from engrossing, and confining all we can do to our own single persons; that it implies, and puts us upon the being as universally beneficial, and dissusing our Powers, as far and wide as we can. But still, I must insist upon it, that the most generous Inclinations and Endeavours of this kind aught to be tempered with Moderation and Prudence; and no Man is  as he should be, unless he be discreet withal; and That in these Two respects particularly. First, Not to apply, or lay himself out upon every occasion that offers indifferently; but first to sit down, and consider well the Justice, the Reasonableness, and the Necessity of the thing; whether it will answer his design, and be worth his pains. And if this were done, a world of trouble might be spared. Then Secondly, That even those occasions, which have the best Title to his Application, may be followed without Violence and Vexation of Mind. A Man should contract his Desires, and bring them within as small a Compass as he can; The Little he does desire, should be pursued with Temper, and be desired moderately; His application should be free from Anxiety, and Distraction: And in any the most Important Matters that we undertake, we may be allowed to employ our Hands, our Feet, our Tongue, the Attention of our Thoughts, the Sweat of our Brows, all proper means in order to the effecting them, nay, to spend our Blood, and hazard our Lives, if the occasion require it; but still all this is to be done with a Reserve; calmly and considerately, without Passion and Torment; without Fretfulness and Impatience. A Man must always preserve the Government and Command of himself; the Health of his Body, the Soundness of his Mind, the Tranquillity, and Ease of both, so far as is possible. For Success does by no means depend upon Heat, and Forwardness, and an Impetuous Eagerness of the Will; but is much oftener and better attained without it; and the Cooler our proceed are, the greater Expectations we may entertain from them. It is a vulgar and a very gross Mistake, that no Affair is undertaken hearty and to purpose, without a great deal of Noise, and Hurry, and Bustle. For, as I have already showed, these only disorder and perplex the Cause; put Men beside their Bias, and are so many fresh Obstructions. How common a thing is it to observe vast numbers of Men, who venture their persons in the Wars, and are in daily, hourly peril of their Lives; without any anxious Concern at all; they march up to the Cannon's mouth when their Post requires it, and push on to Action, and yet neither the Hazard, nor the Loss of the Battles they fight, ever breaks them one Night's rest; They consider, This is their Duty, and upon that Consideration they discharge it cheerfully. And yet at the same time that you see the Camp and the Field so easy, and void of Care; a Splenetic Politician, who never had the Courage to look Danger in the Face, shall sit you at home, and tease and afflict himself with the Event of this Engagement; and be a thousand times more perplexed and mortified with any ill Success, than those very Soldiers, who spend their Blood, and stake down their Lives, in the Service.  
In a word; We must learn to understand ourselves, and our Condition; and distinguish aright, between our private and personal, and our public Capacities. For every one of us is under a double Character, and hath two parts to play. The one external, and visible, but somewhat foreign and distant; the other domestic, and proper, and essential to us. Now though our Shirt be next to our Skin, yet according to the Proverb, we should always remember, that how near soever our Shirt may be, our Skin is still nearer to us. A Judicious person will discharge his Duty to the Public, and fill an Office well; and yet at the same time will discern the Folly, and Wickedness, and Cheat, which a Public Station exposes him to the practice of. He will not decline the thing; because it is agreeable to the Custom and Constitution of his Country; it is necessary and useful to the Public, and perhaps advantageous to himself: He will submit in many things to do as the World does, because the Rest of Mankind live at the same rate; and since he cannot mend the World, it is to no purpose to disturb it, by being singular. But still he will look upon this, as a matter somewhat foreign, and consider this Character as adventitious and accidental, not natural to him; it is what he is obliged to put on, and appear in; but he was not born with it, nor is it a part of him. And therefore he will always exercise it with all due Limitations and Reservations; and not so embark in Business, as to be quite swallowed up in it: but manage Matters so, that he may still enjoy himself; and be free and easy with a particular Friend; or at least, within his own Breast; not so serve the World, as to neglect, and be out of a Condition to serve himself; nor endeavour the Benefit of others, at the Expense or Loss of a Good, that is truly and properly his own.   

CHAP. III. True and Substantial Integrity of Mind, the first and fundamental part of Wisdom.  
THE Directions laid down in the two foregoing Chapters, being such Preparations, as were thought necessary for disposing aright, the person who aspires after Wisdom, and qualifying him to make successful progress in it; That is, By removing the Obstructions, and cleaning his Mind of Prejudices; and setting it at large from the Slavery and Confinement of Popular Opinions, and private Passions: and also by advancing to that noble and happy Freedom of Thought and Will already described; that from hence, as from some advantageous rising ground, he may take a full prospect, and arrive at a clear and distinct Knowledge, and attain to an absolute Mastery, over all the Objects and Things that occur to him here below; (which is the peculiar Character and Privilege of an exalted and resined Soul;) It may now be seasonable to advance in the Method proposed at our Entrance into this Book; by giving some fit Instructions and general Rules of Wisdom. The Two First whereof, are still in the nature of Prefaces to the Main Work; necessary to be laid in the Quality of Foundations, upon which to raise this Glorious Superstructure. And the Former and Principal of these two, designed for the Subject of This Chapter, is Probity, and Sincerity.  
That true Honesty and Integrity of Heart and Life is the First, the Chief, the Fundamental Point of True Wisdom, is an Assertion, which it may perhaps be thought needless for me to give myself any great trouble in proving. For in truth, all Mankind agree in highly extolling, and zealously pretending to it; (though it is but too manifest, that what some do in this kind seriously, and out of Conscientious regard to their Duty, and the real Worth of this Virtue; others put on only, to set the best face upon the matter; and are compelled to dissemble from Shame, and Fear, and the Ill-consequences of avowing the contrary.) Thus far then the whole World is agreed; that Honesty is recommended, and respected, and at least complimented; every Man professes to be passionately in love with it, and subscribes himself its most Faithful, most Affectionate, and most Devoted Servant. So that I may spare myself the pains of arguing in behalf of the Thing in general; but I am afraid notwithstanding, it will prove no such easy matter to make Men agree with the Notions of that, which in my esteem is the True and Essential Honesty, and to persuade the as universal Love, but especially the universal practice of That, which I think necessary upon this occasion. For as to That, which is in common vogue, and usually reputed such; though the World I know are generally satisfied, and trouble themselves so little about understanding or attaining to any thing better, that (except a very few Wise Men,) they have no Ideas, no Wishes beyond this; yet I make no difficulty to affirm, that it is all but a spurious and counterfeit Virtue; Shame and Trick; and the product of Art and Study, Falsehood and Disguise.  
Now first of all, We cannot but be sensible, 
False Appcarances of it.  that Men are very often drawn on, and pushed forward to good Actions by several sorts of Motives. Sometimes such as are by no means commendable; As Natural Defects, and Infirmities, Passion and Fancy, nay sometimes by Vice, and Things in their own Nature Sinful. Thus Chastity, and Sobriety, and Temperance of all sorts, may be, and often are, owing to a weak Body, and tender Constitution, which cannot support Excess. Contempt of Death, to Peevishness and Discontent; Patience under Misfortunes, Resolution and Presence of Thought in Dangers, to Want of Apprehension and Judgement, and a due sense, how great or imminent the Danger is. Valour, and Liberality, and Justice, are often inspired and practised by Ambition and Vainglory; the Effects of good Conduct, discreet Management, of Fear, and Shame, and Avarice. And what a World of renowned and noble Exploits have been owing to Presumption and Foolhardiness; Rashness and Inconsideration? Thus, what we commonly call Actions and Instances of Virtue, are in reality no better than Masks, and counterfeit Appearances of it: They have the Air and the Complexion, but by no means the Substance of it. So much resemblance there is, that the Vulgar, who are no Critics in Faces, may easily mistake the one for the other; and so much of good there is in the Effects and Consequences of such Actions, that other people may be allowed to call them Virtuous; but it is impossible the person himself who does them, should esteem them such; or that any considering Man can either allow them this Character, when nicely examined; or think one jot the better of the Man that does them. For Interest, or Honour, or Reputation, or Custom and Compliance, or some other Causes altogether foreign to Virtue, will be found at the bottom; and however beautiful the Front may be, the Foundation is rotten and stark naught. Sometimes very great and surprising things are the Result of nothing better, than mere Stupidity and Brutishness; which gave occasion for that Reflection, That Wisdom and Insensibility met together in the same Point, and both of them felt and hardened themselves alike under Accidents and Misfortunes. From all which, and a great deal more, that might be said, it appears, how exceeding dangerous and uncertain a method those men take, who look no further than the outward Face of things, and from the actions, as we see them, form a peremptory Judgement of the Probity, or the Disingenuity of the Person. Whereas, for a right understanding of this matter, we ought to take a distinct view of the Inside; examine the whole Movement; and mark well what Springs they are, that set it on going. For it often happens, that very ill men do very good, and commendable, and beneficial Actions: And both Good and Bad men restrain themselves, and avoid Evil; but though both abstain alike, yet they do it out of very different Principles, as Horace hath observed pertinently enough to this purpose, 

* 
Crutus enim metuit foveam Lupus Accipiterque  
Suspectos laqueos, & opertum Milvins hamum,  
Odernnt peccare Boni Virtuti● amore,  
Tu nihil admitres in Te formidine poemae;  
Sit Spes failendi, miseobis Sacra profanis.  Hor. Epist. xuj L. 1.  So Crafty Foxes dread the secret snare;  
The Kite and Hawk, although the Bait be fair,  
Yet never Stoop, where they Suspect a Gin.  
The Good for Virtue's Sake abhor a Sin;  
'Tis fear of Pumshment restrains Thy Will.  
Give leave; How eagerly wouldst Thou be ill?  Horace by Creech. To make a just discovery of the Man, and inform ourselves, what is Honesty and Sincerity indeed, the Actions are too weak an Evidence, and he that goes no farther, can know nothing. These are only the gross Substance, a Copy of his Countenance, and the Counterfeit Lustre of a False Stone; The Jewels cannot be distinguished with so superficial a view; it is not enough to hear the Sound, we must judge the Harmony, and know what Hand it is, that moves the Strings. For the Motive and Cause is the Life, and Soul of all, and gives both Being and Denomination to the whole Action. This is the only Mark we have to judge by; and every Man is chief concerned to take care that This be pure, and good, and in every regard what it ought to be. All which depends upon the Uprightness of the Intention, and Unblemished Honesty of the Heart; and that is the very Quality we are now looking after.  
That Integrity, which passes in common Estimation for the True, 
What notiens the world have of it.  and is generally recommended and extolled, a and which indeed is all, that those who have the Character and Commendation of Just, and Honest, and Fair-dealing men pretend to, is at the best but a mean, and formal, and pedantic Virtue: Such as is a Slave to Laws, and takes its Measures from thence; is checked and kept under by Hope and Fear; is acquired, learned, produced and practised upon the account of, and in submission to the Religion we profess, the Government we live under, the Customs of our Country, the Commands of our Superiors, the Examples of Them we converse with, bound up in Forms, and limited by the Letter of the Law; an effeminate, poor-spirited Honesty, perplexed with Doubts, and Scruples, and Terrors of Conscience. For some People never think themselves innocent, and as they should be; when their Minds are quiet, and easy, and void of Fear. Now such an Honesty as this, must not only be mutable and manifold in several parts of the World, and vary as the Religion, and Laws, and Examples, and Forms and Modes of the Countries, where men happen to converse, shall vary; (For where the Springs of Action change, the whole Movement must needs change proportionably). But, which is yet more to its disparagement, it must needs be irregular, and unequal; inconsistent with itself; floating and unsettled; full of Ebb and Flow, Intervals of Heat and Cold; inconstant and precarious; depending on the Events and Successes of Affairs; the Offering of Occasions, and Interposition of sudden Emergencies; the Difference of Persons and Circumstances; and a thousand other unforeseen Accidents, which move this Man and his Virtue, as a Boat is moved by Sails and Oars, by sudden strokes and spurts; and gusts and pusss of Wind. In a word, These Men are good purely by Chance, by fits and starts; by external and very distant motives; and not in reality, and by virtue of a fixed and governing Principle. This Defect of theirs is what not only standers by, but even themselves are insensible of; they never observe, nor discover their own imperfections, but it were easy to show them to themselves, and make the thing plain to them, by holding a stiff Rein, observing them more nicely and distinctly; and quickening their attention a little. And indeed nothing would be a more effectual Conviction of their Deficiency, than the mighty inequality of their Actions and Tempers, and their own Disagreement with themselves. For in one and the same case, you shall find them coming to quite different resolutions and determinations; and acting in direct contradiction, to what they have done before. Sometimes they are so heavy and dull, that neither Whip nor Spur can get them forward; and presently upon the full speed, that no Bit can stop them. Now this prodigious unevenness and difference of Behaviour is occasioned by the difference of those external Motives, by which they are governed and managed; And as These sometimes agitate and heat them violently, swell, and multiply; or grow lukewarm and cold, and flag and droop again; so must Their Virtue and Zeal needs increase and abate accordingly; and thus it distinguishes itself from Real and Substantial Virtue, by that Property natural to all Accidents; which is, the being capable of Augmentation and Diminution; and so of no better Extract, than all those Qualities, whose dishonour it is, according to the Terms of the Schools, Recipere magis & minus.  
Now That True and Substantial Integrity, which I insist upon at present as a necessary qualification, 
What it is in Truth.  in order to Wisdom, is free, and easy; void of Affectation and Constraint; masculine and generous; pleasant and cheerful; equal and uniform; constant and steady; magnanimous and brave; keeping on its own course, and never looking to the right hand, or to the left; never standing still, or slackening, or quickening its pace; upon the account of Wind or Wether; Accidents and Occasions may change, but This continues always the same. It is not in the power of any thing to alter or shake it; my meaning is, that the Man's Judgement and Will are fixed and immutable; and the Soul, where this Integrity hath taken up its Residence, is never to be corrupted, or diverted to dishonest purposes. For the Sincerity of the Heart is the Virtue we are treating of; There it is lodged, by That we must judge; for External Actions, and those especially that are of a public Capacity and Importance, are of a Nature and Consideration very different from this; as I shall have occasion to show hereafter, when my Method brings me to treat of them distinctly.  
Of this I shall give my Reader some description, when I have first desired him to recollect what was said in the Preface; and that in agreement to the design of this Treatise, I speak of Probity and Wisdom at present, as Virtues purely Human, such as entitle a Man to the Character of an Honest or a prudent Man with regard to Civil Affairs, and common Conversation; without any respect at all to the Christian and more exalted sense of the thing. Of which nevertheless, though Foreign to the general Intent of my Book, I shall take occasion to say some little matter, before I leave this Subject.  
The true Spring and Source of this Probity is Nature; which obliges a man to be such as he ought to be; that is, to conform, and govern himself according to her Dictates and Directions. For Nature maintains a twofold Character, and is at once a Mistress to Command, and a Law to teach, and set us out our Duty. With regard to the former of these Capacities, there is an Internal, Universal, that is, a natural Obligation incumbent upon every Man, to be an honest, sincere Man, and so to answer the End of his Creation. And This is an Obligation so strong, an Inducement so weighty, that no one need look for any greater, any additional Motives; nor indeed is it possible, to find any that deserve greater Deference and Regard; any antecedent to it, since its Validity is of the same date with ourselves, and both It and We came into the World together. Every Man ought to make it his business and care to be a good Man, upon this very account, because he is a Man; for he who is regardless of this point, is a Monster, renounces himself, reproaches his Nature, and in effect ceases to be, what he appears, and usurps a Form, which of Right belongs not to him. This Probity must also be of its own growth, without Cultivating or Constraint; that is, It must proceed from an Internal Principle, which God hath wrought into our Nature and Constitution; and not be the effect of Accident, or any foreign Inducement. No Man, whose Will is uncorrupt, would choose a thing in its declension, as debased and fallen from its natural Perfection; It is a Contradiction to pretend a Man desires a thing, and that he is indifferent at the same time, whether it be what it ought, and have all the Commendable Qualities of right belonging to it. A Man is solicitous to have all his parts in their true Perfection; his Head, his Eyes, his Judgement, his Memory, his whole Body; nay, the very Conveniences and Accoutrements belonging to that Body; and shall his Will and his Conscience be the only neglected things about him? Shall it be no part of his Care whether These have their due Integrity or not? I would have a Man resolute in Goodness, though it were but purely upon his own account, and in regard to his Character as he is a Man; sensible, that to Act otherwise, is, as much as in him lies, to abandon and destroy himself; and thus Probity will be an Internal Principle, as essential to, and of a piece with him, as He is with himself. No external Cause is capable of being a sufficient Foundation for it, because all such are foreign and accidental; and as such are liable to Changes and Decays; and whenever the Foundation sinks, the Superstructure must of necessity tumble with it: If a Man be virtuous and just for the sake of his Reputation, or any other Advantage, What Obligation will this be to his Retirements, to his Solitary Actions? Take off the Hopes of his Virtue being known, and you either take off the whole thing, or cool, and check his vigour in the practice of it. If fear of Laws and Punishments restrain him; put him but in a way to elude the Laws, and escape public Discovery; and what shall secure his Honesty then? So poor, so precarious; so uncertain a thing is this Occasional Virtue: And yet This is the Virtue in vogue, and what very few rise beyond. As the World goes, 'tis very well if all these Considerations will prevail upon Men to do what becomes them; nay if their Actions be commendable or blameless, whatever their secret Dispositions are. Now I expect, in the person whom this Treatise undertakes to form, a Probity that will stand upon its own bottom; so firmly rooted, that you can no more separate it from the Man, than you can his very human Nature itself. I expect he should never yield to do an Ill thing, though he could be assured it will never be known. For is it possible to conceal it from himself? And if his own Conscience be privy to it, what need any farther Witnesses? This One is more than all the World besides. By the same reason he must be as obstinately good, notwithstanding any Recompense which would bribe him to be otherwise; for it is impossible he should receive a valuable Consideration in this Case; and nothing can be so near to him, as his own Essence, which Wickedness impairs and corrupts. To yield upon such Temptations, is like the being content with a very ill Horse, provided a Man have an embroidered Saddle. I must therefore insist upon it, that being a Man, and taking care to live as becomes one, that is, taking care to be a sincere good Man, should always go together, and be above the power of all the World to separate them. This particular I think is sufficiently urged, let us now proceed to the next.  
Now the Model and Pattern, the Spring and Source of this Integrity, is the Law of Nature; by which I mean Universal Equity and Reason, that Candle of our Maker lighted up in every breast, to guide, and shine in us perpetually. For This is the Dictate and Direction of God himself; He is the King, and This the Fundamental Law of the Universe, a Ray and Beam of the Divine Nature, that flows from, and hath a necessary Connection and Dependence upon that Eternal and Immutable Law, which the Almighty prescribes to his own Actions. A Man that proceeds upon this Principle, is his own Rule; for he acts in agreement with the noblest and most valuable part of his Nature. This Man's Honesty is Essential to, and Inseparable from him; not precarious and uncertain, and owing merely to Chance and Occasion; For this Light and Law is born with, and bred in us; a piece of our Frame, and Original. Constitution; and from thence obtains the Name of Nature, and the Law of Nature. Such a Man by consequence will be a good Man constantly, and at all times; his Virtue will be uniform and even; every Place, every Emergency will find him the same. For this Law of Nature is perpetual; the Obligation of it is lasting and inviolable; the Equity and Reason of it are Eternal; written in large and indelible Characters; no Accident can deface them, no length of time waste or wear them out; even Wickedness itself, by the Customary Habits whereof the positive and additional Improvements of this Law, are corrupted; yet cannot debauch, or exterminate these first and Natural Notions; no Place, no Time can alter or disguise them; but they continue every where the same. The Collections inferred from them differ infinitely, but these first Principles themselves, which are the Ground of all Moral Institutions, admit of no Change, no Increase, no Abatement; no Fits and Starts, no Ebb and Flow; but, as they are a part of our Substance, so do they agree with what the Schools say of all Substances in general, 
* Substantia non recipit magis & minùs.  that it is contrary to their nature to be more or less than they are. Why then, Vain Man, dost thou trouble thyself, to seek abroad for some Law and Rule to Mankind? What can Books or Masters tell thee, which thou mightest not tell thyself? What can Study or Travel show, which at the expense of much less pains thou mightst not see at home, by descending into thy own Conscience, and harkening attentively to its Admonitions? When Ignorance of this kind is pretended, the same Reply is fit for Thee, which would be given to a shuffling Debtor; who, when Payment is demanded, professes not to know how the Money became due, when all the while he hath the Bill about him: For thou carriest the Bond, and the particulars of thy Debt in thy own Bosom; and what thou seekest Information of from others, canst not but know, if thou consult thyself.  
To what purpose is all this Labour and Cost; the toilsome tumbling over of Codes, and Institutes; of Precedents, and Reports; of Statutes and Records, when all these are contained in one small portable Volume? The Two Tables of Moses, the Twelve Tables of the Greeks, 
Rom. 2.12.  the Law written in the hearts of Them who had no Law; and in short, all the Rules of Equity, and Good Laws, that have any where been enacted, and obtained in the World, are nothing else but Copies and Transcripts produced in open Court, and published from that Original, which thou keepest close within thee, and yet all the while pretendest to know nothing of the matter; stifling and suppressing, as much as in thee lies, the Brightness of that Light, which shines within; and so falling under the Condemnation of those mentioned by the Apostle, 
Rom. 1.18.  who hold, or detain the Truth of God in Unrighteousness. If This have not been sufficiently published, and promulged as loud, as clear, as intelligibly as other humane Laws, the only Reason is, that that Light which is really All-heavenly and Divine, hath been put under a Bushel, that is, too much neglected, and industriously forgotten. All other Institutions are but so many Rivulets and Streams derived from this common Source: And although they be more visible, and obvious, and express, yet is not the Water they carry so copious, nor so lively and pure, as that of the unseen Spring within thy own Breast; if thy own Negligence did not suffer it to waste and dry up. It is not, I say, so Copious; for as one well observes, 
* Quàm multa Pietas, Humanitas, Liberalitas, Fides exigunt, quae extra Tabulas sunt?  What a world of Good Offices are there, which Pretty, Humanity, Liberality, and Fidelity require from a Man, and yet not written or positive Law ever prescribed? Alas! how poor and scanty a thing is that Honesty of your Formal and Hypocritical Pretenders, who stick to the Letter of the Law, and think, when That is satisfied, they have fully discharged their Duty; whereas there are infinite Obligations incumbent upon a Man, which no human Law ever binds upon him. 
† Quàm angusta Innocentia ad Legem bonum esse; latiùs Officiorum quàm Juris patet Regula.  He that is honest only in the Eye of the Law, hath but a very slender sort of Innocence to boast; for the Measure of our Duty is of a much larger extent, than the Law can pretend to. There are infinite Cases unforeseen; sudden Emergencies, and extraordinary Conjunctures; the Occasions and Circumstances whereof are too many and too intricate, for any human Wisdom to foresee; and much more impossible for it to make any competent Provision for; so that a Man must often be left to his own Judgement and Discretion; and, even where he is not, a Good Man will sometimes think the Rule too narrow; and disdain to consine or cramp up his Virtue within the Compass of that, which was thought necessary to be imposed upon every Common Man. And as this invisible Fountain within is more exuberant and plenteous; so is it more lively, and pure, and strong, than any of those Streams derived from it. Of which we need but this single Testimony; That, whenever any Disputes arise about the Interpretation and right Execution of a positive Law, the constant and best Method of Understanding the Equity and true Intent of it, is by running it back to its first Head, and observing what is most agreeable to the Law of Nature in the Case; This is the Test and Touch, This the Level and the Truth, by which all the rest are to be judged. For, as we commonly say, 
* Anima Legis Ratio.  Reason is the Soul and Life of the Law; here we find things clear and limpid in their Source, which when drawn out into Rivulets, grow foul and sullied, by all that Faction, and Interest, Ambition, and serving of Parties, which corrupt all human Sanctions and Establishments.  
And thus I have described to you a Real, Substantial, Radical, Fundamental Honesty; born with us; rooted in us; springing from the Seed of Universal Reason. This in the Soul, is like the Spring and Balance in a Clock, it regulates all its motions; like the Natural Warmth in the Body, which sustains and preserves itself, and is both its own Strength and Safety, and the Person's to whom it belongs. The Man that proceeds according to This, acts in conformity to the Will of God, in consistence and agreement with himself; in compliance with Nature; and obedience to those Rules, upon which all Government and Civil Constitutions are founded; he proceeds smoothly, gently, silently; His Virtue draws little Observation perhaps, as it makes no Noise; but slides on, and keeps its Course, like a Boat carried down by the Course of the Water in a Calm day: Whereas all other sorts of Virtue are the Products of Art and Accident, grafted into us by Discipline, and not of our own natural growth; fickle and out of Temper, like the Intermitting Heat and Cold of a Fever; they are acquired at first, and drawn out into exercise afterwards, by Chance and Occasion, practised upon foreign and distant Considerations; acting by sudden starts, and short spurts; with Clamour, and Noise, with Hurry and Clutter, with Ostentation and Vainglory.  
And from hence we are led to the true meaning of all those Glorious things, which Philosophers and Wise Men in all Ages have said of Nature: For what Doctrines are more common in the mouths of every one of them, than these, 
* Naturam si sequaris Ducem, nusquam aberrabis. Bonum est quod secundùm Naturam. Omnia Vitia contra Naturam sunt.  That the way for a Man to live well, is to live agreeably to Nature; That a perfect Conformity with Nature is the Supreme Good, the most exquisite Happiness Mankind are capable of; That if we make Nature our Mistress, and Guide, and constantly follow the Directions she gives, we shall never go amiss? By all which it is plain, that Nature is set to signify that Universal Reason and Equity, which is given for a Light to our Minds; and is both of that vast comprehension, as to contain under it the Seeds of all kind of Virtue, Probity, and Justice; The Common Parent, that gives Birth to all wholesome and good Laws, all just and Equitable Judgements, that ever were or will be given; and also of that Clearness and Perspicuity too, that Men of the meanest Capacity and Attainments, might determine themselves, and be conducted by it. Whatever scandalous or disparaging Reflections some may asperse Nature with, or how great a part of them soever this Corrupted State of it may deserve, yet there is no doubt to be made, if we look back to their Original, and primitive Constitution, but all things were created and disposed in the best Order and Condition they were capable of; and had their first Motions toward Good infused and interwoven with their Being, and strong Tendencies to the End they ought to aspire after. This was the Work and Wisdom of Nature; and from hence it is, that no Man who follows and obeys her Dictates, can ever fail of obtaining and enjoying the End, and true Happiness proper to his Species. For after all; Men are naturally and originally Good; and when they follow Evil, they forsake Nature, and are seduced by the false Allurements of Profit, or of Pleasure: And because These are the two governing Motives, and such as will be sure to bear a powerful Sway in the World; therefore the Makers of Laws have always found it necessary to propose two contrary Objects, that is, Reward and Punishment, to the Persons whose Obedience they would engage. And the Design of These is by no means to put a Violence upon their Wills, and so constrain them to act against natural Inclination, as some weakly imagine; but it is in truth, to 
* Sapientia est in Naturam converti; & ea restitui unde publicus Error expulerit. Ab illâ non deerrare, ad illius Legem Exemplumque formari sapientia est.  reduce them to better sense, and bring them back to that, which is not only the best, but was the first and most natural Inclination of their Minds, till perverted by wicked and deceitful Appearances of Counterfeit Good.  
Nature without all Controversy is a sufficient Guide, a gentle Mistress, capable of instructing every one of us, in all the Branches of our Duty, provided we would but be as careful to hearken to its Admonitions; to exert, and keep it awake and active. There is no need for Us to beg or to borrow from Art and Learning, those Means, and Remedies, and Rules, which are necessary for the good Government of ourselves; for each of us can subsist and live by himself; his own proper Stock is sufficient to maintain him. A Happy, and a Contented Life is indeed what every one does and should aim at; but these are Blessings by no means entailed upon Learning, or Parts, or Greatness, or Honour; a Man may attain them, and never see the face of a Court, or a City. There is a Proportion common and natural to all, which is enough for this purpose; and All beyond that, however valuable, as additional Advantages, are yet by no means necessary; we can do very well without them; and which is worse, we are so far from doing very well upon their account, that they do but increase our Troubles and our Difficulties, and do us more Hurt than Good. How many plain, and ignorant, and mean Men do we see, that live with more sensible Pleasure and Satisfaction, more sedate and undisturbed both in their Minds and Fortunes; and upon occasion can meet, and encounter Poverty or Pain, Danger or Death, with a better Grace, and greater Composure, than the most Learned, and celebrated Philosophers? And if one take the pains to observe it nicely, you will find more frequent Instances, more eminent Patterns of Patience, and Constancy, and Evenness of Temper, among plain Country People, and those of mean Condition, than all the Schools can boast of. These are simple and unaffected, they go on where Nature leads, are influenced by the Reasons she suggests, and the Impressions she makes, without creating new and imaginary Troubles. They feel no more than is to be felt, and use no Art and Industry to torment themselves; Their Passions are low, and quiet, and smooth, in comparison of Theirs who take pains to rufflle them; and esteem it a piece of Bravery to indulge and blow them up; and so they go on in all their Affairs more calmly and considerately, without Heat, or Disorder; whereas others look big and bluster, do every thing with Pomp and Hurry; are in perpetual Agitation and Alarm, and keep themselves and all Mankind awake. One of the greatest Masters, and most exquisite Improvers of Nature was Socrates, as Aristotle was proportionably Eminent for Art and Learning. Each of these in their respective Province was wonderful; but it is observable, that Socrates took a plain, and natural way, insinuated himself by vulgar Arguments, familiar Similitudes, an easy Style; and, by talking as a downright Country Fellow, or a good discreet Woman would have done, did not only suit himself better to the Capacities of Men, but laid down such useful Precepts, and Rules of a Virtuous Life; such powerful Antidotes against all manner of Sufferings, and Accidents, that the Strength and Vigour of them was never yet improved, nor the Success, exceeded, shall I say? No, not so much as matched; or any thing like it invented by all the Study and Acquired Learning in the World.  
But alas! we are so far from trusting to the Guidance of Nature, that we never so much as give it the Hearing. The Violence put upon it, and the intractable Temper of Vice and Extravagance, of unruly Appetites, perverse Dispositions, and depraved Wills, which are eternally striving to choke, and suppress, nay quite to deface, and utterly to extinguish, as much as in them lies, the Light within; that mortify and kill the very seeds of Virtue; these are too gross to come within the present Account. My Complaint is, that whereas the Concurrent Advice of all Wise men hath been to follow Nature, the Generality of Mankind run away from it. We let it sleep, and rust upon our hands; play Truant, while we may learn at home; and choose to beg our Improvement abroad, to have recourse to Study and Art, which are comparatively sordid and despicable ways of attaining Knowledge, rather than content ourselves with an Independent and noble Wisdom, which is generous, and of our own Growth. We have all of us a busy turbulent Spirit, that affects to be ever managing, and governing, and will have a hand in every thing; this is variable and humoursome, perpetually bustling, and restless; fond of Novelty, and Disguise; inventing, adding, altering; never pleased long with the same thing, nor ever content with pure Nature, and unaffected Simplicity; but a Contemner and Vilifier of Plainness, as if it were not possible for any thing to be Good, which is void of Art, and Cunning, and nice Contrivance. Thus 
* Simplex illa & aperta Virtus in obscuram & solertem Scientiam versa est.  Virtue, which is genuine, instead of the Frankness and Openness peculiar to it, is corrupted and changed into dark and crafty Speculation. And besides all this, One Fault more we are tainted with; which is, The Disesteem of every thing in general, which is the product of our own Soil; What we can have for nothing is worth nothing; it must be far fetched and dear bought, to recommend it: Foreign things only can please; and in agreement with this Whimsy it is, that we prefer Art before Nature; which is in effect, To shut out the Sun when shining in its Strength, and to light up Candles at Midday. All which Follies and Extravagant humours are owing to One more; which is a Weakness in a manner entailed upon the whole World; That, I mean, of estimating things, not according to their real and intrinsic Value, but only according to the Show, and Figure, and Noise they make; which is to renounce our own Judgement and Experience, and in effect to give ourselves up to be determined by the Common Opinion, of those, who are least qualified to know or judge at all.  
Nor does this Folly stop here; but we proceed to yet higher degrees of Insolence; we even trample Nature under foot, disdain, despise, and are perfectly ashamed of it; are nice in Positive and National Laws, and disregard those that are Natural and Universal. Nay, for the sake of bringing Ceremony and Form into Reputation, (which is a most horrible Indignity, and very Contemptuous Treatment); We cancel and condemn a Law of God's making, to advance Laws of Civility and Good Manners of our own forging. Thus Art carries away Nature; the Shadow is of greater Consideration with us than the Body; and the Air and Face of things, than the Solidity and Substance. We take great care to cover and conceal some things that are natural, that we may not give offence; we blush at the very sound of some words in modesty and good breeding; and yet we are under no Fears, no restraint of doing things unlawful, and unnatural. To keep us at as great a distance from some sorts of Sins as is possible, we are not allowed so much as to name the parts employed in them; and yet after all this scrupulous shyness, How many are there who never boggle in the least at abandoning themselves to all manner of Debauchery and Lasciviousness? It was an old Complaint of the Stoics, that though some very natural and innocent Actions of Life were industriously concealed; yet Many others were named without a blush, which yet were in their own nature wicked and abominable; and what both Nature and Reason detest; such as Perjury, Treachery, Cheating, Lying, Murder, and the like. We may improve the Complaint, by adding, that in Our days Men pretend to more nicety in Conversation; but these really wicked things, they do not only mention without Shame, but act without Fear. Nay, even in Treasons and Assassinations, those blackest of all Villains make pretensions to Ceremony, and think themselves obliged to Murder in point of Honour and Duty; and when this is done, that it be done with some sort of Decency. Prodigious Impudence and Folly! That Injustice should complain of Incivility; and Malice think itself wronged by Indiscretion. Does not the Art of Ceremony then plainly prevail over Nature, and show, that its Influence is much stronger upon corrupt Mankind? Ceremony forbids us to express some things which Nature allows and justifies, and we submit contentedly; Nature and Reason would restrain us from wicked and mischievous actions, and no body obeys, or at all regards them. This is manifestly to Prostitute our Consciences, and abandon all distinctions, all common sense of Good and Evil; and yet at the same time think ourselves obliged to put on a modest Face, and look grave and demure. As if it mattered not, what we are within, so nothing appear amiss in our Countenance; and the setting our looks in Form, were of more consequence, than the Innocence of our Souls. This Hypothesis is most Monstrous and Absurd, and Nature cannot furnish us with an Incongruity like it, in all the Creatures that ever God made. My meaning is not here, what some may maliciously represent it, to find fault with that Decency and Ceremony, which gives an Ornament and Beauty to our Actions, and aught therefore to be strictly regarded. But my Complaint is like that of our Saviour to the Pharisees; Ye Hypocrites, ye make clean the outside of the Cup and Platter, 
Mat. xxiii.  These aught ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.  
One very sad effect of this so general Alteration, and Corruption of our first Notions and Principles, is, That we are now come to that miserable pass, as to have no Footsteps of pure Nature left discernible among us. Insomuch that we are wonderfully perplexed, and at a loss, What and How many those Laws are, which she prescribes to us. The peculiar Character, by which the Law of Nature used to be distinguished from all others, is that of Universal Approbation and Consent. For it must needs be supposed, that what this Common Mother and Mistress of us All, had really enacted and appointed for our Rule, would be readily obeyed by all her Children; that in This there would be, as it were, One Heart and One Soul; and not only every Nation and Country, but every private Man would come in, and live in perfect Agreement with it.  
Now, if we come to examine matter of Fact in this Case, we shall scarce find any one thing in the world, which is not somewhere or other disapproved and contradicted; not by a few particular Persons only, nor by one single Nation, but in several entire Countries; And on the other hand, there is not any thing in Our Apprehension so prodigious and unnatural, but some Countries have entertained it, and given it not only the Countenance of a favourable Opinion, but the Authority of Custom and Common practice too. Neglect of increasing their Families, and Indifference in point of Posterity; the Murdering of their own Parents, of their own Children, nay of their own Selves; Marrying with the nearest Relations; Pilfering and Stealing; Commerce and public Societies of Robbers; public Bartering away one's Liberty, selling and letting out their Bodies, and that in Persons of both Sexes; These are things in the opinion of most People very monstrous and detestable; and yet there are several Nations, which do not only connive at and allow, but use them so, as to make them the Custom of the Country.  
What course then can we take, or which way shall we turn ourselves to find out Nature and its Original Institutions? 'Tis plain, our own Species have little signs of it left; and if there be any Impressions of this kind still unworn out, we must expect to meet with them only in Brutes, who want the Mercury we have, and so have not debauched and corrupted their primitive Constitution, by a troublesome and restless Spirit, by the pretended Improvements of Art, nor the Real Fopperies of Ceremony. All which we have indulged to so extravagant a degree, that there is some reason to suspect, whether even Beasts are altogether so sound, as they should be in this point; and if the keeping so ill Company as Mankind have not in some degree drawn upon Them the Infection of our Follies. The rest of the Creation however follow Nature entirely; they are content to stick and abide by that First and Universal Order, and Rule, which the Great Author and Governor of all, thought sit to establish, and appoint. Man is the only factious and discontented Creature; he breaks in upon the Condition and good Government of the World; and while he professes to mend and polish what Nature hath prescribed, he confounds all with his Freedom of Will, and Gallantry of Spirit; ceases to be regular upon pretence of being more resined; and destroys Nature, while he goes about to exalt and add to it.  
In a word then, True Honesty and Integrity, That which is the very Foundation and Support of Wisdom, consists in following Nature, that is, to say, acting in agreement with right Reason. The Happiness, the Aim, the End, That wherein all the Ease, the Liberty, the Contentment of the Mind is comprised; and to be short, the utmost perfection we are capable of in this World, is to govern our Lives and Actions by the Rule; which Nature hath set us; and keeping the Order of our Creation. And that Order consists in this, That the meaner and more gross Appetites should be kept in due Subjection, and that which is the most excellent part of our Nature, should control and bear sway. That is, When Reason governs Sense, and Truth is preferred before false and empty Appearances. And as the Needle, when touched with the Loadstone, rests at no Point but the North; And by fixing there becomes a Guide to Sailors in their Course: So Man is never in his due Position, when his Eyes are not fised upon this Primitive, this Divine, this Universal Law of Human Nature. For That is the proper Compass, to direct his Inclinations and Opinions by; and all the other helps he enjoys, are but so many fresh Lamps kindled at this Original Light.  
Now although This be a Power from which no Man is excluded, yet I cannot but acknowledge, that the putting it in practice, and bringing the Endeavours of this kind to good effect, is not in every Man's power equally. Some do it with much greater Ease and Success than others. There are a sort of Persons, who seem to be made for Virtue; their Complexion and whole Constitution disposes and sits them for it. Their Tempers are so well mixed, so naturally sweet and gentle, that they feel in themselves a strong Inclination, and an Original Propensity to Goodness and Integrity, without any pains to bend their Assections by Art, or to subdue and correct them by Discipline and Study. This happy Frame of Mind is what I conceive to be principally owing to the first Formation of the Parts; the Proportions and Composition of the Spirits and Humours; and afterwards, to the proper and kindly Nourishment of a good Milk, and the Care and Management of their Infancy and first Beginnings of Education. And those, who are thus inclined to follow and comply with Nature and Reason, who bear a secret Reverence to its Dictates, and find little or no difficulty in submitting, are the Persons properly meant, when we speak of the Happiness of good-tempered Men; and such as we say, Nature hath been kind, or partial to. This natural and spontaneous Honesty now, which comes as it were into the World with us, is properly called Good Disposition, the Quality of a Soul and Body well put together, and of Humours duly moderated; It is a Sweetness, Easiness, and Gentleness of Temper. By which I would not be so mistaken, as to be thought to make no difference between this, and a Softness, which is indeed an effeminate, sottish, unconcerned, and vicious Easiness of Mind; which is managed and led by the Nose; hath no Courage, no Choice of its own; strives to carry fair and become agreeable to every body, and above all things declines giving offence to any; that will not do an Act of Virtue and Justice, if it be likely to displease; nor dares refuse the wickedest and most unbecoming Compliances, when the Favour and Opinion of Men lie at stake: These Persons have no regard in the Earth for Equity or Reason, the Merits of the Cause, or the Service of the Public; but all their Considerations are fixed upon the Consequences, as to their own private Interest, and they look no farther, than who is like to be obliged or disobliged, by what they do. It is of such wretched, poor-spirited, Complaisant Persons, that you hear People frequently give that false and most unjust Commendation; Oh he is a wonderful good Man! for he is kind even to the worst and wickedest Men; whereas indeed This Charge is much more deserved and true of them; that such a Man cannot be a Good Man, because he is not severe to ill Men, but encourages their Villainy by his Mildness, and false show of Good nature. Such a Goodness as this is, should rather be called Harmlessness, for it is just like that Quality of little Children, and Sheep, and such other Beasts, as we commonly call poor, innocent, simple Creatures. But the true Sincerity and Honesty I am speaking of, hath a very different Character; it is a masculine, brave, vigorous, and active Goodness of Mind; a strong constant Affection, an easy, ready Inclination, by which the Soul embraces, and stands always bend to that which is consonant to Reason and Nature; and Nature in this sense is but another word for Goodness, and Equity, and Justice.  
Again: There are many Instances, on the other hand, of Persons so cross and ill contrived, that one would be tempted to think them Monsters in Human Form. They have a Disposition singular and by themselves, so very rough and unmanageable, as if some evil Genius had shuffled them up together, in perfect Contradiction, and despite of Nature. In such Circumstances there is great difficulty; This vicious Disposition must be cured and corrected; the Harshness of it sweetened; its wild and brutish Roughness tamed and made gentle; its crooked, and stiff, and irregular Humours bended and bowed down, and made flexible and complying with the straight Rule and Plan of Universal Nature; which is the true Level and Standard, Men should bring themselves to. And the properest Remedy for effecting this Cure is for such People to betake themselves to the Study of Philosophy (as Socrates did) and to the serious and resolute practice of severe Virtue; which is a constant Combat with Perverseness of Temper; a painful and vigorous conflict with all manner of Vice; a laborious Study and Exercise of the Mind, that requires a great deal of Time and Toil, indefatigable Diligence, and strict Discipline. Virtue is attended with Hardship, and employed upon a subject, that can never be easy; Labour and Sweat wat●h perpetually at the Gate of Virtue, and no Entrance is to be attained but by their means; say some of the Ancients to this purpose. And again: The Gods have set a high price upon Virtue, and sold it dear to Mankind, at the expense of great labour and trouble. Now the End of all this Severity and Pains, which I propose to Men of this unkindly Composition, is not to graft in a fresh Fruit upon the Crab-stock, not to introduce, I mean, a new, foreign, or artificial Honesty, and consequently such a one, as (according to the account already given of this matter,) would at the best be but occasional and accidental only, and so, far short of that substantial and perfect Integrity I am aiming at: But the Design and effect of this Study must be to clear the Rust and Rubbish, to take away Obstructions, not to create, but to awaken the Powers of Nature; to snuff and trim this Lamp within, which is foul, and burns dim; and to quicken all those original Seeds of Goodness, that have been long kept down, and almost quite choked and killed, either by any vicious Habit in particular, or by some personal Indisposition, and natural Defect. For the Eyes of the Mind are like those of the Body; the visive Faculty is form with them, and inherent from the Beginning; and therefore the way of helping the Sight, is not to add any thing new, but to remove the Films that grow over the Pupil; as a Man wipes away the Dust from a Looking-Glass, to make the Reflection clear and strong.  
From this Representation of the Case we may perceive, 
Three Degrees of Perfection.  that True Integrity may be distinguished into two sorts; The One Natural, easy, gentle, and even, which is properly called a Good Temper; The Other is acquired, full of difficulty, attained by labour and much pain, and This is termed Virtue; to both which we may add a Third, which is a kind of Compound of the Two former, and so there will be Three Degrees of Perfection in the Case before us. The First and Lowest is an Easiness of Temper, a Mind so well disposed, as to have naturally and of its own accord, a disrelish and aversion to all manner of Extravagance and Vice; and this we may call Goodness, or Innocence. The Second and next Stage, which we call Virtue, consists in the Art and Labour of Prevention, setting itself with all its Force and Vigour, to guard the Avenues, to hinder the Advances of Vice, and check the very first Motions of the Passions, when they grow mutinous; and if the Insurrection be actually begun, to muster and arm all a Man's Forces to stop, and quell, and reduce them. The Third and Highest degree of all is a Mixture of Noble Resolution, and a Happy Temper; so that the Man from both these met together, is so excellently well disposed, as not only to continue impregnable, but to be free even from Attacks. Not so much as a Temptation rises to give him Trouble; the very Seeds of Vice are quite rooted out. Virtue is the only, the Natural Growth of this prosperous Soil; and becomes not the Habit, so much as the Complexion and Constitution of the Man. This Last may justly be styled Perfection; This and the First kind do thus far resemble one another, and are both very differing from the Second; That they are silent and still, without difficulty, and without struggle, the natural Air, and constant Course of the Man, a cheap and easy Virtue, that costs him little or nothing; whereas the Second is a perpetual Conflict, and dwells in the midst of Hurry and Alarms, and Battles. The last and most perfect of these Degrees, is acquired by a long and painful Study, a serious and constant Exercise of the Rules of Philosophy, added to a Good, and Generous, and Noble Nature, largely and liberally furnished; and a Mind enriched with all manner of good Dispositions. For in this Case Both must concur; Nature and Industry must each do their part; and it cannot be entirely the work of one of these, not all infused, nor all acquired. This is the End, which all the old Philosophers proposed to their Studies; but above all the rest, the Stoic and Epicurean Sect, (I make no scruple of saying the latter did it as well as the former, though this I confess might seem strange, had we not the Testimony of Seneca, and several other Ancient Writers in confirmation of it.) These gallant Men looked upon Disgrace and Contempt, Want and Sickness, Pains, and Tortures, nay even Death itself, to be Toys and Trifles, fit for none but Fools and Children to be anxious or concerned about. They did not only despise them, and endure them with Patience and Constancy, and gain an absolute Conquest over all the Troubles and Difficulties of them, whenever they made the Assault; but they went out into the Field, they sought and provoked them, Rejoiced in, as well as Triumphed over them. They looked upon these Encounters as necessary Breathe for their Virtue, to keep it in Exercise and Vigour; and by the frequency of such Engagements, did not only secure and establish that Virtue, and render it Firm, and Steady, and Severe, (as Cato and some other renowned Stoics for instance did) but even Cheerful and Gay; and if that be not an improper expression, wanton and full of play, by the perfect Mastery they had got over all external Accidents and Things.  
Upon the stating of the whole Case, and comparing these Three together, some who have but imperfect apprehensions of the noble Height and true Excellence of the Third Degree, have been inclined to think, that the Second was the most Honourable, and to be valued above either of the Rest; by reason of the Difficulties and Dangers it contends with, and the many painful and laborious Struggle● the Attainment of it costs. And, as Metellus said, that the Doing Evil was a despicable thing, because it was the Effect of Cowardice and Laziness; so the Doing Well, where it is without the expense of Trouble and Hazard, is looked upon by these persons, as too vulgar and cheap a thing; but the attempting and going through with it, in despite of Hazards and Troublesome Oppositions, and where these attack us in great number, and labour hard to obstruct, and deter us from our Duty; This is the Commendation of a Good, and a Virtuous Person indeed. 
* Difficilia quae pulchra 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Plato.  Whatever is excellent is Difficult, was, we know, the usual Saying of the Noblest Philosopher. But to deal plainly, and speak the Truth of the matter, the Difficulty of obtaining any thing does by no means alter the nature, or add to the real and intrinsic value of the thing itself; nor is it, as I have taken occasion formerly to observe, any just and warrantable Cause for raising it in our Esteem. Nay it is beyond all Controversy certain on the other side, that Natural Excellencies are much more desirable, and better than those that are studied and acquired. That it is much more Brave, and Great, and Divine to act by the motions and spontaneous Perfections of Nature, than with the most exquisite Dexterity and nicest Improvements of Art; in an easy, free, equal, and uniform manner, than with laborious Efforts, uncertainly, and with Doubt, and Danger, and Perplexity of Thought. It is in the former of these two Senses, that we term Almighty God Good, His Excellencies are his Nature, Essential to him; and if They could cease, he must cease to Be. And therefore to call not Him only, but even the Blessed Angels, and the Spirits of Just Men made perfect, Virtuous; is a Diminution and Disparagement to them. Theirs is properly Goodness too, but Virtue is a Title too low for the Happiness of unsinning Perfection, a State of Indefectibility, and above the reach of all Temptation. 'Tis true indeed, in the Condition we now live, where Dangers surround, and threaten, and Frailties betray us perpetually; Virtue makes somewhat of noise and clutter, and is forced to act with some Vehemence; and this gives it the Preference before Smooth and Still Goodness. For the generality of people always measure the Excellence of a Thing by the Show, and the Difficulty; and admire that most, which costs dearest; but this is a false method of judging; and we are not much to wonder, if They are wrong here, who indeed are generally so in all their Estimations of Men and Things. For these great Swelling Performances, that look so big, and seem to be all zeal and fire, are not subsantial, nor to the purpose; They are no part of true Honesty, nor the Products of that fixed Principle we are speaking of; but rather intemperate Heats, and Feverish Fits, very different from that Wisdom we are now in quest of, which is healthful and moderate, gentle and calm, equal and uniform.  
Thus much may suffice to be said of Honesty or Sincerity in general; For as to the several parts of it, and the particular Duties resulting from thence, they will come under our Consideration in the Third Book, and particularly, when we shall treat of the Virtue of Justice.  
And here I find myself under an Obligation, of discharging my Promise, 
Of Grace.  in the necessary Addition of what follows in this Paragraph. To silence (if it be possible) the unjust Malice, and disadvantageous Character cast upon me by some who find fault with my (as they think them) Extravagant Commendations of Nature; as if This were able to do every thing, and no other Assistances were required. To these persons it might suffice to reply, that by Nature I understand (as was observed before) the God of Nature, and the Dictates of Eternal Reason, written and engraved in every Heart by His Almighty Hand. I might also allege, that the Subject of this Book is only Natural, and Human; and that the Author is not obliged by his Design to concern himself with any Virtues properly Divine, or the Advantages above the power of Nature to confer. But waving all this, I readily acknowledge, that to render the Virtue and Integrity I have been describing complete, and give it all the Perfections it is capable of, one thing more is necessary: The Grace of God I mean; which must animate and invigorate this Goodness and Probity; show it in all its lustre; give the finishing stroke, refine and exalt it from a mere Moral to a Christian Virtue. This renders it accepted at the Throne of Heaven, approved of God, capable of an Eternal Recompense; and so crowns it both with Perfection here, and a Reward hereafter. It is not easy to find Apposite Resemblances for Things which cannot present themselves to us by any sensible Ideas: But if you will pardon the meanness of the Comparison, I should almost venture, to compare the Probity here insisted on, to a Skilful Master, who touches the Keys of an Organ, with absolute Accuracy and Art; but all to no purpose, the Instrument is dumb, till the Wind express the Excellence of his Hand, by giving Sound to the Instrument; and making that Melody, which all his Mastery in playing was not able to do without it. Thus Moral Virtue is but a sort of Speculative Perfection, till the Grace of God inspire, and enable us to put it in Practice, and produce the Fruits of it.  
Now This is a Blessing, which does not consist in refined Thought, nice Notions, and long or learned Discourses; it is not to be acquired by Rule, or the methods of Human Industry and Art, nor can we attain to it by our own Labour and Toil; the utmost we can do is to prepare, and endeavour to qualify ourselves duly for the receiving it; for after All, Receive it we must; It is a Gift that comes down from on high, and the very Name of Grace is designed to represent to us the Good Will of the Donor, and that the Gift is entirely free. Our part is to ask, to seek, to implore it, with all imaginable Humility, and the most fervent Desires we are capable of. To prostrate ourselves before the Throne of Grace, and with the utmost Contention of Heart and Voice to say, Vouchsafe, O my God, in thy Infinite Goodness to look down with an Eye of Mercy and Pity upon thy poor Servant; Accept and grant my Desires, assist my weak Endeavours, and crown those good Inclinations, which are originally derived from Thee: The Law by which I stand obliged, the Light by which I am instructed in my Duty, are of thy Ordering; thou hast stamped our Nature with these Impressions of Good and Evil, and shined in our hearts by thy Precepts; O give Success to thy own Institution, and finish the work thou hast begun; that so the Glory and the Fruit may redound to the Planters use, and thou may'st be first and last in all my Actions and Designs, my Thoughts and my Desires. Water me abundantly with thy Grace, and take me for thy own, that I who am of myself miserable, and poor, and naked, and blind, and weak, may be able to do even all things, through Christ, who strengtheneth me.  
These are proper Addresses upon such an occasion, but the properest and most probable method to obtain them, that is, to incline the Compassion of God, and dispose him to gratify such Desires, will be strict Moral Honesty, and a Conscientious Observation of the Law of Nature to the best of our power. For this, though it be not an absolutely Meritorious Cause, is yet a Conditional one, and a good Preparation for the receiving Supernatural Assistances; as Matter ready disposed is clothed with the Form, and the Vegetative and Sensitive Soul derived from our Parents, lead the way, and put all things in readiness, for the Accession of the Rational and Intellectual one, which proceeds from God. Thus Human Wisdom is the Introduction to Divine, Philosophy the Handmaid to Religion, the Natural and Moral Duties of a Man subservient and Instrumental to the Liberty of a Christian, the Light, and Favour of the Children of God. He who does his best in the matters of Reason, and Morality, gives God an occasion of exercising his Bounty, and bestowing larger and nobler Virtues upon him. It being an equitable Method, and such as our Blessed Saviour assures us, God himself proceeds by, to trust that Man with more and greater Talents, who hath approved himself diligent and faithful in the good management of less. To this purpose are all those Holy Aphorisms. Thou hast been faithful in a very little, be thou ruler over much. God giveth the Holy Spirit to all them that ask him. To Him that hath shall be given, and He shall have abundance. God denies no man Grace, who does his utmost. God is wanting to no Man in necessary Supplies; and the like.  
On the other hand, To live in Contradiction and Defiance to Men's Natural Light, is to put one's self out of all Capacity of God's Favour, and, as much as in us lies, to make it impossible for Grace to be given us. Since He, who gives it, hath expressly declared upon what Conditions Men are allowed to expect it; and if He exceeds those Measures, and bestows it upon persons wholly unqualified, This is beside the Common Method, and an excepted Case from his regular Dispensations. This obstinacy and perverseness is expressly mentioned, as the Reason why our Saviour refused to preach in some particular places; and, since the Evangelists, St. Cyril, St. Chry oslem, St. Augustin, and other of the Fathers have largely discoursed upon that matter to this purpose.  
By all which it appears evidently, that Grace and Nature are not contrary Principles; for (in the Sense I have all along used the Term in this Chapter) Grace is so far from forcing or destroying Nature, that it is a gentle and seasonable Relief to it; nay, it strengthens, and crowns, and perfects Nature. We must not therefore set these two in opposition to each other, but join both together, and put on the One as the Ornament, the Fullness, and just Finishing of the Other. Both proceed from God, though after different manners; and therefore we must neither put them at variance, nor confound them for want of duly distinguishing them asunder; for each hath its proper Springs, and peculiar Motions. They neither set out together, nor operate alike; though both came from the same place; and lead to the same End at last.  
Nature may be without Grace, and when duly followed hath its commendation even then, in regard to those Circumstances which admitted of no more. Thus it was with the Philosophers and Great Men heretofore, Persons whose Proficiency under this First and General Law, and their Attainments in all sorts of Moral Virtue, may be allowed to excite our Wonder, as well as challenge our Praise. Such likewise is the Case of all Infidels at this day; because the Grace we speak of is a Gospel-Blessing, and They who are not under the Evangelical Covenant, have no Title to it. But Grace cannot be without Nature; because This is the Matter for it to work upon; for the business of Grace is to reform and perfect; and therefore This as necessarily supposes Nature, as the raising of a Roof supposes a Foundation to be laid, and Walls already carried up. The Organist may exercise his Fingers, 'tis true, upon the dumb Keys, and make his Hand; but the Harmony must come from the Breath; or if it could sound, yet would it be but like St. Paul's tinkling Cymbal, of no worth or significancy at all: But all the Air in the World will never make Music of the Instrument, without a Hand to strike the Keys. In This I have been the more particular, and descended to familiar Comparisons, because Some I find have suffered themselves to be led into very gross Mistakes upon the matter. Persons, who have never conceived a right and worthy Notion of that true Probity and entirely Honest Principle we have been recommending; but are blown up with strange Romantic Conceits of Grace; which they doubt not to attain, and practise eminently well, without any regard to Morality; and by a Scheme of Pharisaical Accomplishments; some easy, lazy, sormal Performances, which carry a great appearance of Sanctity to the World; but as for the real Substance, and inward Power of Goodness and Integrity, they give themselves no trouble at all about it. I see great store of these Men in the World every day; but alas! I can find but very few such as Aristides, Photion, Cato, Regulus, Socrates; not Epaminonda's, not Scipio's, no Strict and Conscientious Professors, I mean, of staunch and solid Virtue; and Philosophical, or if you please, common Justice, and downright Moral Honesty. The Reproaches and Complaints so liberally bestowed by our Saviour upon the Pharisees, and Hypocrites, will never be out of season; for the persons obnoxious to these always abound; and even those who set up for the Great Censors of Manners, the Zealous Railers at Vice, and Grave Reformers of the World, are not all exempt from this Charge themselves. But enough of this. I have spoken largely of the Virtue itself; now before I close this Chapter, I must take leave to add one word, concerning the disposition of Mind contrary to it.  
Now Wickedness (or Evil Practices and Temper) is against Nature, it is deformed, odious, 
Wickedness.  and offensive; all that can judge and discern must needs detest and loathe it; which gave occasion for some to say, That it is a monstrous Birth, the Product of Brutality and Ignorance. It does not only provoke the Dislike and Aversion of others, but raises the Indignation of a Man's own Mind, who is guilty of it; Repentance and Self-condemnation are its certain Consequences. It gnaws, and corrodes, and frets the Soul; like an Ulcer in the Flesh; makes one restless and uneasy; out of Countenance and out of Conceit with himself; and is ever busy in contriving and inflicting fresh Torments, as if it were ordained to be its own Executioner. Hence those Observations; 

* 
— Prima est haec ultio, quòd se  
Judice, nemo nocens absolvitur.  Juv. Sat. xiii. 
Paena autem vehemens, ac multo saevior illis  
Quas aut Caeditius gravis invenit, aut Rhadamanthus  
Nocte dieque suum gestare in pectore testem.  Ibid.  None quits himself; his own impartial Thought  
Will damn; and Conscience will record the Fault:   
And again, 
Not sharp Revenge, nor Hell itself can find  
A fiercer Torment, than a Guilty Mind.   
Hence 
† Malitia ipsa maximam partem veneni sui bibit: Malum consilium consultori pessimum.  Wickedness is said to drink the greatest part of its own Poison; the bitterness and the dregs fall to its own share. Evil Counsel turns most to the prejudice of the person that gives it. As the Wasp, though she may hurt and occasion some smart to the person stung by her, yet does itself the greatest harm; and suffers more by the loss of its Sting, and being disabled for ever after. It is true, Vice is attended with some Pleasure; for were there not this to recommend it, Wickedness would never find any entertainment in the World. No Man ever was, or can be vicious, merely for the sake, or satisfaction of being so. But still, when we have allowed this Advantage of a short and sensible Satisfaction; yet we must not forget what follows, and how poor a business this is, in comparison of that lasting Displeasure, and Dissatisfaction, it begets afterwards. So that, as Plato says truly, The Punishment constantly follows the Sin; or rather indeed, as Hesiod yet more nicely observes, They are Twin-childrens, and come into the World together. Now the Case of Virtue is just the Reverse of This; It gratifies, and soothes us; leaves sweet and pleasing Remembrances behind: Fills us with inward Complacencies, secret Congratulations of our own Happiness, and inexpressible Satisfaction, in having done what becomes us. This is the true Reward of a virtuous Mind, a Happiness inherent and Essential to it. And the Applauses, and Joys, and Transports of a Good Conscience, as they are sure to us, and cannot be withheld by any who envy our Virtue, or our Fame; so are they likewise, so large, and full; so generous and noble, and sufficient, as may very well encourage, and satisfy us, during our continuance in this present World.  
That Vice is, above all things in the world, to be hated, 
Whether it be ever allowable to do a fault.  abominated, and avoided, no body, that I know of, ever pretended to dispute. But some Question may be made, whether we are obliged to be so general, and irreconcilable in our Hatred, that it should be impossible for any Pleasure or Advantage so desirable to offer itself, for the prospect of which the committing of any Vice might not be allowable, at least excusable in us. Many people indeed are but too apt to think, that there are several such reserved Cases, wherein the common Rules of Morality may be very fairly dispensed with. And, if we allow the Advantage to be public, the Writers of Politics make no doubt of it, (provided the proceed be so qualified, as I shall have occasion to advise, when I come to treat of the Virtue of Prudence in point of Government.) But some have not been content to restrain this Liberty to the necessities of State; but have enlarged its bounds beyond their just extent; and given the same Allowance to the Private Pleasure and Profit of single Men. Now This is a thing not possible to be determined in favour of their Assertion, without the Case were stated in all its Circumstances; and both the Person, the Quality of the Fact, and the Nature of the Advantage proposed, particularly specified. But otherwise, while we treat of the Matter simply, and abstractedly, it is a general Rule, not only in Religion, but in mere Morality too, That the prospect of no Advantage or Pleasure whatsoever, will justify a Man in doing any thing Ill in itself, or which is contrary to his Duty and Conscience.  
Again; It is past a doubt, 
Whether all Sin beget Repentance.  that Sin and Wickedness hath it not in its power to furnish out Pleasures and Satisfactions so solid and agreeable, as Virtue and the Consciousness of one's own Sincerity, is able and wont to do; nay, it is most certain, that Vices are their own Tormentors, and execute severe Vengeance upon the Authors. But yet this is not universally, and in all Cases true; and therefore it is necessary to make some distinction of Persons and Circumstances. Now Wickedness, and Wicked Men may be distributed into three sorts. Some, first, are perfectly incorporated with Evil, they Reason themselves into it; their Resolutions and the whole Bend of their Wills are fixed entirely in its Interests; or else long Custom hath got such a perfect Mastery over them, that they cannot Disengage themselves. These miserable Wretches are utterly abandoned; their very Understanding is vitiated, sees, consents to, and approves the Evil: And This usually is the Case, when Vice and Debauchery meets with a Strong and Vigorous Mind, and hath taken such deep root in it, that it comes at last to be naturalised, and of a piece with it; all the Faculties are tinctured, it is corrupted throughout, and Vice so closely interwoven, as to become a part of its Temper and Constitution. Others, secondly, have their Intervals of Folly only; They are wicked now and then by fits, just as any violent Gush of a Temptation disturbs or puts them out of their Course; or some impetuous Passion drives them headlong upon the Rocks; so that these Men are surprised, and carried away forcibly, by a Current too strong for them to stem. The Third sort are betwixt these two Extremes: They have a right Notion of Vice, considered in itself; and when they reflect upon their Fault abstractedly, do severely accuse and condemn themselves for it; and thus they differ from the First Sort, who are advanced even to the desperate degree of a good liking of Wickedness: But then they have not the violence or surprise of Passions or Temptations to qualify and extenuate their Crime; and in this respect they differ from the Second sort too. But these Men go to work in cold blood, and with great deliberation; they weigh Circumstances, and drive a Bargain as it were; observe well the Heinousness of the Sin; and then put the Pleasure or Profit it brings, into the contrary Scale; and thus they barter away their Souls, and are content to be wicked at a certain Price, and for such as they think a valuable Consideration. They lend themselves to the Devil, for so much Interest to be paid for the use of their Persons; and are so foolish to think, that there is a great deal to be said, in excuse for such a Commerce as this. Of this kind we may reckon Extortion, and Oppression, and Covetousness for Gain; and the Excesses and Debaucheries of Wine and Women for the sake of Pleasure; and indeed several other Sins committed upon occasions, though they be not reigning and habitual; such as Men think, and consult upon, and at last resolve wrong; where the Will is manifestly concerned, or where the Complexion of the Man is apt, against his Reason and better Sense, to determine him.  
Now the First of these Three sorts are past repenting by ordinary Means, 
These Thr comparea.  and nothing less than an unusual, and almost miraculous Impression from Heaven can be supposed to reclaim them. For they are (as the Apostle expresses it) past feeling, and commit evil even with Greediness. The Stings and Prickings of Wickedness are very sharp and piercing indeed, but these Men's Consciences are so tough and hardened, that nothing can enter them. Besides, The Understanding, as was observed, is brought over to an Approbation of the thing; and so all Sense of Remorse must be lost, which proceeds chief from acting against our better Judgement; The Soul is entirely corrupted, the Distinctions of Good and Evil obliterated and worn away; and consequently the Will can be under no solicitude to restrain, or refuse. The Third sort of Men, though they may appear in some measure to repent, and condemn themselves, yet in reality, and properly speaking, they do not. Take the Fact by itself, as a matter unlawful and unbecoming, and so they disallow it; but view it dressed up in all its gay Attire, with all the Circumstances of Pleasure and Profit, that recommend, and set it off, and you shall find them of another Opinion. They think the Advantage of their Sin, a sufficient Compensation for the Gild; and cannot be said to repent of That, which had the full and free Consent of their Reason and Conscience; and with which they are always ready to close, as often as it shall proffer itself upon the same Terms. So that in Truth the Second sort seem to be the only persons, that are seriously concerned to repent, and reform. And since we are now upon the mention of Repentance, I shall take this opportunity to say one word upon that Subject.  
Repentance, is a Disposition, or rather an Act of the Will, 
Repentance.  whereby the Man disclaims, and so far as in him lies, undoes again what he had done before. It is a Grief and Sadness of Heart, but differing in this one respect from all other Pains and Passions of that kind, arising from external Causes, That Reason begets, and heightens This, whereas it mitigates and expels Those. Repentance is wholly internal; the Ground and Foundation of it is from within, and upon that account it is more violent than any other: As the Cold of Agues and Heat of Fevers is more fierce and insupportable to the Patient, than any, which is ever occasioned by Objects from without. Repentance is the Physic of the Soul; the Death of Vice; the only Health of Wounded Consciences, and Depraved Wills. But though all Mankind must agree in the Excellent Effects and Commendations of the thing, yet many mistake it; and therefore good care should be taken to distinguish aright, and be perfectly informed in this matter. As First; There are some sorts of sin, of which Men very hardly, and seldom repent; as was observed just now concerning old inveterate Vices, such as Custom hath made in a manner natural and necessary, and the Corruption of the Judgement hath given Authority to, by determining in their Favour. For while a Man continues under the power of such Habits, and the Blindness of such an erroneous Choice; the sense of his Mind is with him; and he feels no Check or Reluctancy at all; so that Repentance, which implies such Regret, is (usually speaking) terminated in Accidental and Occasional Miscarriages; the sudden and surprising Faults, where there is not leisure for Deliberation to interpose; or the Violent Sallies of Passion, where the Judgement is overpowered, and under some Constraint to do amiss. Another sort of things there are, which a Man cannot be said with any Truth or Propriety of Speech to repent of; and those are, Such as are out of a Man's own Power: At these indeed we may conceive a Just Indignation, or be much concerned, and extremely sorry for them; but we cannot be said to Repent of them, because This implies not only Sorrow, but the blaming and condemning ourselves, and failing in what we might have done better. Nor does That displeasure of Mind deserve this Name, which proceeds from the disappointment of our Expectations, or Events contrary to our Wishes and Intentions. We laid, as we thought, a very wise Project, and had a very fair prospect of Success; but Matters have happened quite otherwise, than we imagined it likely or possible for them to do; and some unforeseen Accident steps in betwixt, and blasts the whole Design. Now pray, What is all this to the Matter in hand? or what ground can here possibly be for Repentance? The Design, and the Method, were well and justly contrived; every wise and good Man would have taken the same Course. You have done your Duty; but you have not succeeded in it. And is that any fault of Yours? You advised well, and proceeded regularly; and this is the utmost Man can do. For we can neither command Events, nor have any positive knowledge beforehand what they will be. The Uncertainty of the Issue is the foundation of all Prudence and good Conduct, for were This sixth and foreknown, no place could be left for Deliberation and Management; And therefore there is not a greater weakness, nor a more unreasonable pretence in the world, either for tormenting ourselves, or entertaining meaner thoughts of others, than Want of Success. Advice, and Conduct are by no means to be judged by the Event; for there is an unseen, and an unaccountable Providence, that directs all the Chances, that sometimes defeats the wisest, and prospers the weakest and most unpromising Counsels and Undertake. Again; Repentance is not, as some fond suppose, that Change of Mind, which proceeds from Old Age, Impotence, want of Opportunity, or want of Inclination, or any such Disrelish, as either Satiety and Excess, or a natural Alteration of Palate, brings upon us. For there is a mighty Disserence between forsaking Vice, and being forsaken of it; between denying our Appetites when they are keen and eager; and gratifying them by a pleasing Abstinence from what they are cloyed with already. Besides, To like any thing the worse upon these accounts, is really a Corruption of, and a Reflection upon our Judgement. For the things are still the same; the same Approbation, or the same Dislike, was due to them heretofore, no less than now; All the Change is in ourselves only, and that too is a Change in no degree voluntary or chosen, but purely necessary or accidental, the effect of Age or Sickness. We speak most improperly, when we say that a Man is grown wiser or better in such cases; for all the Reformation, that proceeds from humour or discontent; from disrelish or disability; is Fear, and Phlegm, Coldness, and Listlessness. There is oftentimes not the least of Real Conviction, or any Principle of Conscience in it. And sure a feeble Body is a very unfit Conveyance, to carry us to God, and drive us to Repentance and our Duty. For true Repentance is somewhat very different from all this; it is a particular Gift of God, by which we grow wise in good earnest; a Remorse, which checks our hottest Career, even in the midst of Springhtliness and Courage; and this is what must be created and cherished in us, not by the want of opportunities, or of power to use them, not by the weakness of a Body broken, and worn out, and grown unserviceable to Vice any longer; but by the Strength of Reason and Thought, and the better consideration of a Resolute and Vigorous Mind. For nothing more argues Greatness of Soul, than the Correcting our former Follies, and Steadiness in a new Course of Life; notwithstanding all the Difficulties and Discouragements of an entire Reformation.  
Now One fruit of true Repentance, is a frank, and conscientious Confession of one's Faults; 
Of Confessing and Excusing Faults.  This is usually the Sign, the Consequence, and in some Cases so necessary a Qualification, that all Professions of Penitence without it are Hypocritical and vain. It is with the Mind in these Respects, as with our Bodies. For, as in Bodily Distempers there are two sorts of Remedies made use of, One, that make a perfect Cure, by going to the very Root, and removing the Cause of the Disease; Another, which only soothe the Patient, consult his present Ease; and are properly termed Quieting Medicines; and, as in this case, that former Application is much more painful, but withal more powerful and effectual, and better for the person, than the latter; So likewise in the Wounds and Sicknesses of the Soul, the true Remedy is of a searching and a cleansing quality; and This is such an Acknowledgement of our Faults, as is full of Seriousness and Shame; a being content to take the Scandal, and the Folly of them upon ourselves. But there is another deceitful Remedy, which only covers, and disguises them; its design is not to heal, so much as to conceal the Disease; and this consists in Extenuations, and Excuses; from whence we commonly say, That Wickedness makes itself a Garment, to cover its own Shame. This is a Remedy invented by the Author of Evil himself; and it answers the Malice of his Nature and his purposes, by rendering the Party so much the worse, and obstructing the Methods of his Recovery. Such were the Shifts, and Shuffle, such the Covering of their Nakedness, which the First Transgressor's made; the Fig-leaves and the Excuses were both alike, and made the Matter but so much the worse, while they laboured to mend it.  
We should therefore by all means learn to accuse ourselves; and get that necessary Conquest over our Pride and Self-love, as frankly and fully to confess the very worst of our Thoughts and Actions, and not allow ourselves in any reserves of this kind. For, besides, that this would beget a brave and generous Openness of Soul; it would likewise be a wonderful Check, and effectual Preservative, against all such Actions and Thoughts, as are not fit to be publicly known, and what a Man would be ashamed of, if they were so. For He that obliges himself to tell all he does, will be sure to take care not to do any thing which shall need to be concealed. But alas! the Common Practice of this naughty World is the direct contrary to the Advice I am giving. Every Man is discreet, and modest, and secret in the Confessing; but bold, and free from all restraint, in the Committing part. For as indeed the Confidence and Hardiness of the Crime, would be very much kerbed and abated; so likewise would it be in some measure compensated, by an equal frankness and hardiness in the accusing of ourselves, and acknowledging what we have done amiss. For whatever Indecency there may be in doing an ill thing, not to dare to confess ourselves in the wrong, is ten thousand times more odious and base. To this purpose we may observe, that there are several Instances of Persons eminent for Piety, and Learning; such as St. Augustin, Origen, Hypocrates, and the like; who have taken pains to disabuse the World, and to publish Books, wherein they confess and retract their own Mistakes and erroneous Opinions; and well were it, if People could be brought to such a Degree of Sincerity, as to do the same in point of Morals, and Misbehaviour. Whereas now, they oftentimes incur a greater Gild, by endeavouring to hid and smother a less; for a public premeditated Lie seems to Carry some Aggravations along with it, which render it more abominable and more Vicious, than some other Facts committed in secret; though these be such as in their own Nature, are apt to raise a greater Abhorrence and Detestation in us. All This does but inflame the Reckoning; it either makes the first Fault worse, or adds a fresh one to it; and in either case the Gild of the Man is not abated, but increased; and whether we count this Increase by way of Addition, or of Multiplication, the Matter comes all to one.    

CHAP. IU. The Second Fundamental Point of Wisdom.  
The Fixing to one's self a particular End, and then chalking out some determinate Track, or Course of Life: which may be proper for leading us to that End.  
AFter having spoken so largely concerning this first Fundamental Point, the Real and Hearty Sincerity, upon which Wisdom must be built, we are now led to say some small matter of the Second Predisposition, which is also necessary in order to living prudently and well. And That is, the Pitching upon, and Drawing out to one's self some determinate Method or Course of Life, that we may not live at large, and at random; but betake ourselves to some particular sort of Business, or Profession, which may be proper and convenient for us. My meaning is, such as a Man's own Temper and Natural Disposition qualifies him for, and applieth itself cheerfully to; (with this Caution only, that, while we follow our own Nature in particular, there be a constant Regard had to the Dictates of Human Nature in general, which is and aught to be the Great, the General, the Governing Mistress of us all, as you were told in the last Chapter.) For Wisdom is a gentle and regular Management of our Soul, that moves and acts in due measure and proportion, and consists in a constant Evenness of Life, and Consistency of Behaviour.  
It must then of necessity be a matter of very great momment, 
This no ea●● matter.  to manage ourselves well in making this Choice; with regard to which People behave themselves very differently, and act with great confusion, and perplexity; by reason of the great variety of Considerations, and Motives, which they are influenced with; and These many times such as interfere, and confound one another. some indeed are very fortunate in this Choice, and proceed with great Alacrity and Success; and these are such, as either by reason of a particular Happiness in their Nature, found no great difficulty in discerning and choosing what was most proper for their purpose; or else by some lucky hit, which spared them the trouble of any great deliberation, are thrown into their own Element; so that Fortune hath chosen for them, and fised them right; or else the friendly assistance and discreet care of some Friends, who had the advising, or the disposal of them, hath conducted them in this weighty Affair, to the best Advantage.  
Others again are in the contrary Extreme, the most unhappy and ill-suited with their Circumstances, that can possibly be imagined. They made a false Step at first, and have never been able to retrieve it since. Either they wanted the Judgement to know themselves, or the diligence and care which was necessary, to take right Measures, or to think better, and knock off in time, when they found they had taken wrong. For the best thing left for Them to do, had been to recede quietly; whereas for want of this prudent retiring, they find themselves afterwards engaged too far, and beyond all possibility of a Retreat. Which being now cut off, they are forced to drudge on, through infinite Inconveniences; and lead a Life made up of nothing else, but Trouble and Constraint, Repentance and Discontents.  
But then This frequently happens too, from some failure in the person, that deliberates about it, and considers amiss; as well as from the Ignorance or the Rashness, of such as consider very little, or not at all. And That may be, from a Man's mistaking his own Genius, or Capacity; and thinking too highly of his own Abilities. And when upon these false Presumptions he hath undertaken any thing above his management, the Consequence of it is; Either to lay it down again with Disgrace; Or else to live in perpetual pain, and torment, by obstinately persisting in an Attempt too much for him. We should always remember, that he that lifts a Burden, must be stronger than his Burden; for else there is no remedy, but he must let alone, what he cannot carry; or sink under the weight of it. And a wise Man will always be Master of his own Business, and not undertake more than it is possible for him to dispatch.  
There is also another Obstruction of this kind, no less common and fatal, than the Former; which is a strange Levity of Temper, that never sticks to any thing, but is every day forming some new Project; Thus we see abundance of People that are never pleased or satisfied with any thing; every thing gives them uneasiness and discontent; Tired of Business, and Sick of Leisure; Governing and being Governed makes them equally restless, and they can neither lead nor follow quietly. Such Creatures as these are doomed to Wretchedness irrecoverable; for they are always under Constraint, and Misery; every thing they do is grievous, and against the grain: And, which adds yet more to their Unhappiness, they can never rest in quiet, but are always in motion and bustle, and all the while without any design; constantly busy, and nothing done; Whereas the Actions of a wise Man have always some Aim, to direct and determine them. 
* Magnam rem puta unum hominem agere; praeter sapientem nemo unum agit, multiformes sumus.  And you must know 'tis no small commendation for a Man to be constantly the same; for all of us are of a thousand different forms and shapes, and none but the Wise Man is all of a piece.  
But the grater part of Mankind never bestow any serious thought upon the matter; and if you ask why they are of this Profession rather than any other, the only account they are able to give is, that their Father was of it, or that they took a sudden fancy to it; they are carried by Instinct, or Constraint, their own blind inclination, or the Authority of Friends and Relations. And as they engaged in it without Thinking, so they are at a loss how to disengage again.  
Now in order to a Man's managing himself in this Affair as he ought; that both his Choice may be wisely mae, and the Discharge of the Employment he hath chosen, may prove successful; there are Two things which require a very particular Consideration; and these are, The true Nature and Condition, both of Himself, and of his Business. 

1. First, It is absolutely requisite, he should be perfectly well acquainted with his own Mind; the Constitution, Inclination, Capacity, and Temper of Soul and Body both; Wherein it is, that his Excellency lies; and Which are his weak and blind Sides: What he is qualified for, and of What he is uncapable, or less disposed to. For a Man that goes against Nature, does in effect tempt God, and bid defiance to Providence; he cuts himself out a great deal of work, which he can never finish; and by breaking that known Rule, of 
† Nec quidquam sequi quod assequi nequeas.  attempting nothing which we cannot master; exposes himself to Scorn and Derision, and becomes the Jest of all that know him.  
2. After this Knowledge of himself, it is, in the next place, as necessary, that he should be acquainted with his Business; that is, with That Employment, or Trust, or particular Condition of Life, which he proposes to fix in. For there are some Professions encumbered with Matters of great difficulty; Others of vast importance; a Third sort, that expose us to Danger; and a Fourth, where the Business, though it be not of any mighty Consequence, is yet extremely intricate and perplexed; and involves a Man in a world of Trouble and Care, and other Affairs that depend upon, or are interwoven with it. Now all Employments of this Nature do greatly harass and fatigue the Mind; and keep one's Thoughts always busy and bend. Besides, As the Business of each Profession differs from the rest, so do the Faculties and Parts, that qualify Men for it. One requires Acuracy of Judgement; Another Liveliness of Imagination; a Third, Strength of Memory; and a Man may be very eminent and commendable in himself; and yet spoil all, by being in a wrong way. Now what hath been formerly observed in the first Book, concerning the Parts and Faculties of the Mind in general, and the differing Temperaments of the Brain, may, I presume, be of some use in this point; and, if judiciously applied, assist and direct Men toward the understanding, both the Nature of each Profession, and Course of Life; and their own Fitness or Incapacity for it. For by examining first their own Disposition, and then the State of Life they have thoughts of, and then confronting, and comparing these two together, they will soon discern, whether these will ever hit it, and agree long with each other; for agree they must, or no Good can be done: This will quickly show Men, what they are to trust to. For if it happen, that a Man be obliged to struggle with his own Inclination, and must conquer, and commit a violence upon his Nature, to make it serviceable to his purpose, and capable of discharging the Employment he hath taken upon him; Or on the other hand; if in obedience to Nature, and to gratify our Inclination, we are, either with our own consent, or insensibly and against our Wills, trepanned into a Course, that falls short of our Duty, or runs counter to it; what miserable Confusion and Disorder must here needs be? How can we ever expect Evenness, under so much Force? Constancy from so much Constraint, or Decorum where every thing is against the Grain? For as is well oberved; 
* Si quicquam decoium, nihil profecto magis, quam aequabilitas Vitae universae & singularum actionum; quam conservare non possis, si aliorum imitans Naturam, omittas tuam.  If there be such a thing as Decency in the world, it is seen in nothing more than in an easiness and consistency both of one's whole life in general, and of each particular Action in it. And this Decorum can never be maintained, if you live in conformity to other people's dispositions, and have no regard to the following your own. There cannot be a vainer Imagination, than to suppose any thing can last long, or be well done, and eminently good in its kind, or that it can become a Man, or sit easy upon him, if there be not somewhat of Nature and Inclination in it.    

† 
Tu nihil invitâ dices faciesve Mineruâ.  Hor. Art. Poet. — Discern which way your Talon lies,  
Nor vainly struggle with your Genius.  Lord Roscom. 

* Id quemque decet quod est suum maximè. Sic est faciendum, ut contra naturam universam nil contendamus; eâ servarâ propriam sequamur.  That which is most a Man's own, is always most graceful; And we must always take care so to order matters, as first to offer no Violence against Nature in general; and then to follow our own Genius in particular.  
But now, if it should so fall out, that a Man, either through Misfortune, Imprudence, or any other Accident, should perceive himself entered into a Profession, and course of Life, full of Trouble, inconvenient, and improper; and that he is so deeply engaged too, that there is no possibility of changing, or getting quit of it; in this case, all that Wisdom and good Conduct hath to do, is to resolve upon supporting, and sweetening it; keeping one's self easy, and making the most of it: Like skilful Gamesters, who when they have an ill Throw, mend it in the playing. For Plato's Counsel is best upon these occasions, the bearing our Chance patiently, and managing it to all the Advantage an ill Bargain is capable of. You see what a Knack of this kind Nature hath given to some sort of Creatures; when the Bees out of an Herb so rough and harsh and dry, as Thyme is, can extract so sweet a Substance as Honey. And this is such an Excellence, as all those wise and good Men Imitate, who manage Difficulties dextrously, and, as the Proverb expresses it, make a Vartue of Necessity.  

CHAP. V The First Act or Office of Wisdom.  
The Study of, and serious Endeavour after True Piety.  
THE necessary Preparations to Wisdom, being thus explained in the former Chapters, which are in the manner of laying our Foundation, it may now be seasonable to proceed to the Building itself, and erect upon this Groundwork, the Rules and Precepts of Wisdom. And here the First, both in Order and Dignity, which offers itself to our Consideration, concerns true Religion, and the Service of Almighty God. For certainly Piety ought to have the precedence of all Virtues, and is the highest and most honourable in the Scale of Duties; But the greater and more important it is, the more we are concerned to have a right notion of it; especially, when to the infinite consequence of the thing, we add the danger of being mistaken, and withal, how very common and easy it is, to deceive ourselves in this point. Great need therefore we have of Caution and good Ad●ice, that we may be truly informed, how the Man, who makes Wisdom his Aim and Business, aught to manage himself upon this weighty occasion. And the giving Directions of this nature is the design of my present Discourse; after I have first made a short Digression concerning the State and Success of several sorts of Religion in the World. Of which I shall choose to speak but briefly here, and refer my Reader for farther Satisfaction, to what I have said more at large to this purpose, in another Treatise of mine, called the Three Truths.  
And first of all, 
Difference of Religions.  I cannot but take notice, how dismal and deplorable a thing, the great Variety of Relgions is, which either now do, or formerly have obtained in the World. And, which is yet a greater misfortune and reproach, the Oddness of some of them; Opinions and Rites, so fantastical, so exorbitant, that it is just matter of wonder and astonishment, which way the Mind of Man could so far degenerate into Brutality, and be so miserably besotted with Frauds and Folly. For upon examination it will appear, that there is scarce any one thing so high or so low, but it hath been Deified; and even the vilest and most contemptible parts of the Creation, have, in some quarter of the World or other, found People blind enough to pay them Divine Honours, and Adoration.  
Now, notwithstanding this Difference be really as vast, and as horrid, as I have intimated, or my Reader can imagine; yet there seem to be some General Points in common, which, like Principles or Fundamentals, are such, as Most, if not All of them have agreed in. For however they may wander from one another, and take different Paths afterwards, yet they set out alike, and walk hand in hand for some Considerable Time. At least they appear, and affect to do so; the Devil transforming himself into an Angel of Light; and undermining the Truth by Mimicking it; as knowing that the most effectual Art to seduce Men is by contriving fair and plausible Lies; and dressing up Wickedness in its most engaging Attire. To this purpose it is observable, that the most prevailing Persuasions have sprung from the same Climate, and first drew breath in almost the same Air. Palestine I mean and Arabia, which are Countries contiguous to one another. Some of their First and main Principles are very near alike; such as the Belief of one God, the Maker and Governor of all things; All own the Providence of God, and his Particular Love and Favour for Mankind; the Immortality of the Soul; a Reward in Reserve for the Good; and terrible Punishments, which await the Wicked, even after this Life; some particular Profession, and set Form of Solemn and External Worship, by which they put up their prayers, invoke the Name of God, and think that a decent Honour, and acceptable Service and Homage is paid to the Divine Majesty by so doing. To give these a better Countenance and greater Authority in the World, some of them really produce, and others pretend Revelations, Visions, Prophecies, Miracles, Prodigies; Holy Mysteries, and eminent Examples of Saints, Persons exemplary for their Piety, or Sufferings, or Doctrine; and these Allegations, whether true or false, speak the General and Natural Sense of Mankind to agree in the expectations of Revelation from Heaven, and that Miracles are proper Attestations of them. Each hath a particular Scheme of its own, which distinguishes the Receivers of it from Those of different Persuasions, and imposes certain Articles of Faith and Forms of Discipline; Some as Terms of Communion, and Marks of Distinction, and Others as necessary to be believed in order to Salvation. All of them have at first been weak, and low, and little regarded; but from those slender Beginnings have by degrees gained ground upon the People, been insinuated, received, applauded, and at last entirely submitted to, by vast Multitudes; spread far and wide, and established themselves; as if Opinions ran like contagious Diseases, and all that came within the Air of them, were sure to catch the Infection. And yet some of these own all their Authority to Fictions and Tricks; insomuch that even the absurdest and most senseless of all Errors, have been embraced with as great Reverence and Devotion, and maintained with as much Stiffness and as Positive a Confidence, as the very Truth itself. All of them do likewise agree in their Notions of Appeasing God; and teach unanimously that Prayers, and Offerings, Promises and Vows, Days of Extraordinary Humiliation and Thanksgiving, are proper methods to incline his Ear, and obtain his Favour and good Acceptance for our Persons and our Requests; All believe, that the Principal and most pleasing Service we can pay to God, the most powerful means o averting his Indignation, reconciling ourselves, and becoming agreeable to him, is by giving one's self some torment and trouble; by laying heavy Burdens upon ourselves, and cutting out a great deal of work, the more difficult and contrary to our inclination, the better, and more meritorious. For what other account but this, can we give of those infinite Professed Austerities enjoined to particular Orders, the abundance of Fraternities, and Societies of Men, which in all Religions throughout the World, the Mahometan as well as Christian, are devoted to sundry peculiar Exercises, full of Severity, and Discipline; of Poverty and Pain; and Corporal Sufferings; even so far in some of them, as to scourge, and wound, and mangle their own Persons? These are observed to be more numerous, and differently instituted in False Religions, than the True: And All this, from a strong persuasion, that they merit by this Discipline and voluntary Cruelty; and are in proportion so much better Men than Others, as they afflict and torment themselves more than They. An Imagination, which still prevails, and such as human Nature is never like to get quit of; for we see every day fresh Instances, and new Inventions of this kind, and what industry Men use to be more ingenious and exquisite, in contriving new sorts of mortification and punishment. 
See the Notes.  Now all this, I say, can be accounted for no other way, than by assigning it to an Opinion, that God takes delight, and is wonderfully pleased with the Sufferings and Calamities of his Creatures: An Imagination, which to those who think Sacrifices to have been of human Invention, seems to have been the Ground of all that way of Worship, which, before the Christian Religion made its Appearance in the world, was universally practised. Thus harmless Beasts were butchered every where, and their Blood spilt, and poured out upon Altars, as a valuable Present to the Divinity; and thus too in some places (so prodigious was the Infatuation of Mankind) poor little innocent Children were barbarously tortured and murdered; and Grown Persons, sometimes Malefactors, and sometimes Men of eminent Virtue and clear Reputation, were offered in Sacrifice; and this was the usual Worship of almost all Nations, and looked upon, as one of the most solemn, and most acceptable Acts of Devotion. Thus the Old Getae in Scythia are said, among other instances of Adoration and Honour paid to their God Zamolxis, to dispatch a Man to him once in five years, to consult and supplicate him in all things necessary for them. And, because the Ceremony requires, that this Advocate of theirs should die in an instant, and the manner of exposing him to death, (which is the being pierced through with three Javelins) is somewhat doubtful in the Execution; therefore it often happens, that several are thus dispatched, before any one wounds himself in a part so mortal, as to expire immediately; and only He that does so, is esteemed a Favourite of their God, and proper for that purpose; but all the rest who die slowly, are to be rejected, as unfit for this Sacrifice. Thus did the Persians worship their Gods; as that single fact of Amestris, the Mother of Xerxes, testifies; who, in agreement to the Principles of Religion then prevailing in that Country, did, as an Offering of Thanks for her own long and prosperous Life, bury fourteen young Persons of Quality alive, Branches of the Noblest Families in the whole Kingdom. So likewise did the ancient Gauls, and Carthaginians, among whom young Children were Sacrificed to Saturn, and that with so remorseless a Zeal, that even the Fathers and Mothers used to be present, and assisting at the Ceremony. Thus the Lacedæmonians sought to ingratiate themselves with their Goddess Diana, by scourging their young Men in Complaisance to her; nay, doing it with such Rigour, that they expired under it; for the Sacrifice of Iphigenia shows, that she was worshipped with human Blood. The Instance of the two Deccis proves, that the Remans' were possessed with the same Imagination too; which gave occasion for this Reflection in one of their Writers; 
* Quae fuit tanta iniquitas Deorum, ut placati Pop. Rom. non possint, nisi tales viri occidissent?  What strange Provocation could make the Gods so extremely hard and severe, that there was no way of reconciling them to the People of Rome, unless the Atonement were made by the blood of such gallant Men? Thus, the Mahometans, who slash and cut their Faces, their Breasts, and other amembers, to recommend themselves to their Prophet; and the people in our new Discoveries of the East and West-Indies, and at Themistitan, where they cement the Images of their Gods, with Child's Blood. Now what Madness, what Stupidity is this, to suppose, that Inhuman Actions can ever gain upon the Divine Nature; that the Goodness of God is requited, or decently acknowledged by our own Sufferings; or that Barbarity can be a proper Method of satisfying his angry Justice? As if Justice could thirst after human Blood, or feast itself upon the Innocent lives, that are spilt with infinite torture, and the most exquisite pain. 
† Ut sic Dij placentur, quemadmodum ne homines quidem s●ewun●.  At this rate the Gods are fond of expiations which even Men abominate; and the Mercy of Heaven is purchased with such Barbarities, as all Nature starts at. Whence could so wild a fancy as this, a fancy so distant from all the Just Ideas and Perfections of God spring up, that he takes a pleasure in the misery of human nature, and the ruin, or at least the torment and damage of his own Workmanship? What can be more impious or extravagant, and how monstrous a Being does such a Belief as This, make of God? And how justly does the Doctrine of Christ command our Reverence and Esteem, which hath abolished all such Worship, and rectified men's Notions in this matter?  
Now as All, 
And others wherein they differ.  or Most Religions have been showed to have some Principles in common, wherein they are agreed, so have they likewise Others, peculiar to themselves; Certain Articles, which are the Characters, and, as it were, the Boundaries of their Respective Communions; and serve to separate and distinguish the many Sects and Professions from one another. With regard to These it is, that the Men of every Religion prefer themselves above all the World besides; that they afirm, with great assurance, their own Persuasion to be the best, the purest, the most Orthodox of any; and, as another means of magnifying themselves, are eternally reproaching those that differ from them, with Errors and Corruptions; and by this means they are eternally employed too in creating Breaches, or in widening and keeping open such as are already made; by the mutual Disallowance and Condemnation, which every Party is perpetually declaring against the Notions of every other Party; and representing all Systems, but their own, to be false and dangerous, and by no means to be admitted.  
But, Blessed be God, We Christians need be in no pain in the midst of this Variety and Contest. Our Religion having the Advantages of all others, both in point of Authentic and unquestionable Testimony, and in other Excellencies peculiar to itself. This I have demonstrated at large in the Second of my Three Truths, and shown the manifest Preeminence due to it.  
Now One thing is very worthy our Observation in this general Strife; 
The later are built upon the former and more ancient.  and That is the Advantage, which Time and Succession have given in this matter. For we shall find, that in proportion as One Religion hath been of a later date than another, so it hath gained somewhat from that which came into the World before it, and the Younger hath always built and raised itself upon the Elder; more particularly upon that, which was next of all before it in Order and Time. And the method of effecting this hath been, not by disproving or exploding all that went before in the gross and at once; for upon these terms it could never have found entertainment, or got any manner of Footing with people so prepossessed; but the Course hath been, to accuse what was formerly received, of some defect or Insufficiency; alleging that the Institution was imperfect in itself; or that it was only Temporary; and the Term, for which it was calculated, then expired; and therefore this New Additional one was necessary to succeed in the place of an abolished, and to complete an unfinished Religion. And thus by degrees the new one rises upon the Ruins of the Old, and is enriched by the Spoils of its vanquished Predecessor; As we know the case hath plainly stood with the Jewish Religion, when it prevailed over the Pagan and Egyptian way of Worship; the Jewish people not being to be brought off from the Customs of that Country all at once: And afterwards the Christian Faith and Promises, when they triumphed over the Jewish Privileges and Mosaical Dispensation; and since that, the same Pretence hath been made use of to advance Mahumetism upon the Jewish and Christian Religion taken together. Each of these hath retained something of the Religion it pretended to dispossess; and built upon Old Foundations: But none so much as the Mahometan; which professes to persist, and be fully persuaded in All the Doctrines of Jesus Christ, save only that Great and most important one, which asserts his Divinity. So that he who would pass from Judaisme to Mahometanism, must take Christianity in his way. And we are told, there have been some Mahometans, who have exposed themselves to Sufferings and Torture, in defence of the Christian Truths; as a Christian likewise upon his own Principles would be bound to do, in vindication of the Authority, and Doctrines of the Old Testament. But now if we cast our Eyes upon the more Ancient sort of Institutions, we shall find them dealing after a very different manner with the New, which (as I said) in part allow, and only profess to improve and refine upon Them. For They reject and condemn Them entirely, give them no quarter, but cry out upon them for Innovations, and look upon every thing of later date than themselves, as a mortal and irreconcilable Enemy to the Truth; as if after the Period of their own Establishment, Time could from thenceforth produce none but monstrous Births; and all, who did not sit down and stick there, must be inevitably abandoned to Falsehood and Corruption.  
This I think may be farther affirmed to be a Qualification common to all Religions whatsoever; 
All of them uncouth to Nature.  that they are, every one, in Some Points uncouth and foreign from the Common Sense and apprehensions of Mankind. And the Reason seems to be, that They all of them propound to our Consideration and Belief, and are Systems consisting of, and built upon, Points of a very distant kind from Common Sense. For Some of them, when weighed in the Balance of human Judgement, appear to be exceeding mean, and low, and contemptible; such as a Man of Wit, and Vigorous Thought, finds himself rather tempted to ridicule and expose, than to pay any Reverence to them: And Others again are so exceeding sublime, the Lustre of them so strong, the Nature of them so full of Miracle and Mystery, that, as Finite Causes could never effect, so finite Understandings can never comprehend them fully; and at These the Men of Discourse and Demonstration take offence, and will allow nothing to be credible, which is not intelligible. Whereas in Truth, the Sphere in which the human Intellect moves and acts, is placed between these two Extremes. For we are capable but of such things as lie in a middle State, and are of a moderate proportion. These only are of a size with our Souls, They fit us, and therefore They Only please and are easy to us. those of a lower Rank we look down upon with Indignation and Scorn; and those of a higher Condition are too weighty and bulky for us; they create Wonder and Amazement only; and therefore the wonder ought not to be great, if the Mind of Man recoil again, and show a disrelish against all Religion; since in All there is so very little of such Doctrine as is agreeable to the common Temper and Capacity of Mankind; but the principal Points of Faith and Worship are in one of the forementioned Extremes, and those of Practice distant, either from common Use, or from general Inclination. Hence it comes to pass, that the Men of strong Parts have so often despised Religion, and exposed it to the Derision of the World; and those of Weak and Superstitious Minds are confounded and scandalised at it. This was St. Paul's Complaint in the first planting of the Christian Faith; 
1 Cor. 1.23.  We preach Jesus Christ crucified, to the Jews a Stumbling-block, and to the Greeks Foolishness. And this indeed is the very Reason, why we find so much Profaneness and Irreligion; so much Error and Heresy, in the World. Some believe not at all, and others believe amiss, because they consult their own Judgement only, and hearken to no other Guide, but the Dictates of human Reason. They bring matters of Religion to the same Trial with other common matters, and will needs undertake to examine, and measure, and judge of them, by the Standard of their own Capacity; They treat this Divine, like other Common and merely Human Sciences and Professions; expecting to master, and penetrate to the bottom of it, by the strength of Natural Parts. But This is not the way of dealing with Divine Truths; A Man's Affections must be qualified and disposed for these Doctrines. They require Simplicity and Honesty; meekness of Temper, an humble and obedient Mind. These only can fit a Man for receiving Religion; For he that does so in good earnest, must believe its Declarations, submit to its Laws, and govern himself by them, with Reverence and Resignation of Soul. In short, he must be content that his own Judgement should be overruled by the Word of God; and to live and be led by universal Consent and Authority; which seems to be the Subjection intended by the Apostle, when he speaks of 
* Captivantes intellectum ad obsequium Fidei.  Casting down Imaginations (or Reasonings,) 
2 Cor x. 5.  and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into Captivity every Thought to the obedience of Faith.  
And, 
Reason good they should be so.  however the Conceited or Unthinking part of the World may quarrel at this method, yet it was certainly a great Instance of the Divine Wisdom, to order the matter thus. For such a proceeding seems highly necessary, in order to preserve that Admiration and Respect, which is due to Religion; and which, upon any other Terms, would very hardly have been paid to it. For religion ought to be entertained and embraced with Holy Reverence, and great Authority; and therefore with some degree of Difficulty too. For Reason and Experience may soon convince us, that if it were in every Circumstance suited to the , and of a size with the natural Apprehensions, of Mankind; if it carried nothing at all of Miracle or Mystery in it; as it would be more easily, so likewise it would be less respectfully, received. And so much as you bring it nearer to the Level of common Matters, so much you certainly abate of that Regard it ought to have, above all other matters whatsoever.  
Now, 
Why they are not to be received by human means.  since all Religions and Schemes of Belief are, or pretend to be what I have here described; foreign from, and far above the Common Sense and Capacity of Mankind; they must not, they cannot be received, or take possession of us by any human and natural means. (For had the Case been thus, the most exalted Minds would have been in proportion eminent for Religion, and so many Men of Wit and Judgement in Other things, could never have been defective here), but these Notions must needs have been conveyed into men's Minds, by supernatural and extraordinary Methods, by Revelation from Heaven; and The persons that receive and imbibe them, must needs have them by the secret Teachings and Inspiration of God. And thus you find, that All who believe, and profess Religion, say; for all of them do in effect assume to themselves that Declaration of the Apostle; 
Gal. I. 1, 12.  Not of Men, neither by Man, nor of any other Creature, but of God.  
But, if we lay aside all Flattery and Disguise, and speak freely to the Point, 
But yet so they are.  there will be found very little, or nothing at the bottom of all these mighty Boastings. For, whatever Men may say or think to the contrary, it is manifest, that all sorts of Religion are handed down and received by human Methods. This Observation is true in its very utmost Sense and Extent, of all False and Counterfeit Persuasions; for These when searched to the bottom, are no better than Diabolical Delusions, or Human Inventions: But True Religion, as it is derived down to us from a Higher Original, so it moves us by other Springs, and is received after a very different manner. And here, to get a right understanding of this matter, we must distinguish between the First Publication of the Truth, that Reception, which made it general, and gave it a Settlement in the World; and that Particular One, by which private Persons embrace and come into it, when already established. The Former of These which first fixed this Heavenly Plant, was altogether Miraculous and Divine; and agrees punctually with the Evangelist's account, The Lord working with the Apostles and Preachers, and confirming the Word with Signs following. But the Latter must be acknowledged in great measure Human, and private men's Faith and Piety to be wrought by common and Ordinary Means. This seems to be sufficiently plain, first, from the Manner of Religion's getting ground in the World, and that, whether we regard the first general planting of any Persuasion, or the method of its gaining now upon private persons. For, whence is the daily Increase of any Sect? Does not the Nation to which we belong, the Country where we dwell, nay the Town, or the Family in which we were born, commonly give us our Religion? We take that which is the growth of the Soil; and whatever we were born in the midst of, and bred up to, that Profession we still keep. We are Circumcised, or baptised, Jews, or Christians, or Mahometans, before we can be sensible that we are Men; So that Religion is not the Generality of People's Choice, but their Fate; not so much their own Act and Deed, as the Act of Others for and upon them. 
See the Notes.  The Man is made a Member of the Jewish or Christian Communion without his Knowledge, because he is descended of Jewish or Christian Parents, and in a Country where this or that Persuasion obtains most. And would not this, do you think, have been his Case, if born in any other part of the World? Would not the same person have been a Pagan, or Mahometan, if born where Heathen Idolatry, or Mahumetism prevailed? But now as to the Observance, and living up to the Precepts of Religion; Those who are True and Pious Professors, besides the external Profession of the Truth, they have the Advantage of the Gifts and Graces of God, the Assistance and Testimony of the Holy Ghost, common to all, and from which, even the mistaken are not utterly excluded. This indeed is a Privilege, which (blessed be God) is capable of being very usual and frequent, and many great Pretensions and pompous Boasts are made of it. But yet I vehemently suspect, notwithstanding all the fair show, and plausible pretences Men make of this kind, This Grace and Spirit is not so largely and so commonly enjoyed, nor so strong in its Influences and Effects, as Some would have us believe. For surely were This so powerful in us, and were Religion our own free Choice, and the Result of our own Judgement, the Life and Manners of Men could not be at so vast a distance and manifest disagreement from their Principles; nor could they, upon every slight and common occasion, act so directly contrary to the whole Tenor and Design of their Religion. And this Inconsistence of Faith and Manners, is also a Proof, that our Faith is not from God; for were this planted and fastened in our Minds by so powerful a hand as His, it could not be in the power of any Accident or Temptation to shake, or unsettle us; so firm and strong a Band could not so easily be broken or burst through. Were there the least Touch, the smallest Ray of Divine Illumination, This Light would shine in every action of our lives, and dart itself into every corner of our Souls; The Effects of it would appear in all our behaviour, and not only be sensible, but wonderful and amazing too, according to what Truth himself said upon occasion to his Disciples; 
Matth. xvii. 20.  If ye had faith but as a grain of mustardseed, ye shall say to this mountain, Remove hence, and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible to you. But alas! if we look abroad, and consider the behaviour of the World; what proportion, what correspondence can we find, between the Belief of the Soul's Immortality and a future Judgement, and the Practices of Mankind? Would Men, Can Men indeed lead the lives they do, and at the same time be persuaded in good earnest, that a Recompense awaits them hereafter; so glorious and happy on the one hand, or so full of misery, and shame on the other? One single thought, and the bare Idea of those things, which Men profess so firmly to believe, would perfectly confound, and scare wicked Men out of their Wits. There have been instances of very strange effects wrought upon Persons, only by the apprehension of public Justice; the Fear of dying by the hands of a Common Executioner, or some other Accident full of misfortune and reproach; and yet, What are all these Calamities, in comparison of those Horrors, which, Religion tells us, will be the Sinner's portion hereafter? And is it possible, that these things should be entertained and believed indeed, and Men continue what they are? Can a Man seriously hope for a Blessed Immortality, make This the Object of his Expectations and Desires, and yet at the same time live in a slavish dread of Death, which he knows is the Necessary, the Only passage that can lead him to it? Can a Christian fear and live under the apprehensions of Eternal Death and Punishment, and yet indulge himself in those very Vices, which that very Hell, he believes, is ordained to avenge? These are most unaccountable Stories; and things as incompatible, as Fire and Water. Men tell the World that they believe these Doctrines, nay they persuade themselves that they do really believe them; and then they endeavour to proselyte others, and make Them believe so too; but alas! there is nothing in all this; nor do They, who talk and act thus inconsistently, know what it is to Believe. Such Professors as these, are what an Ancient Writer called them, Liars and Cheats; or, as another expressed himself very well upon the like occasion, who reproached the Christians with being the gallantest Men in the World in some respects, but the pitifullest, and most contemptible wretches in others. For, says he, if you consider the Articles of their Belief, you will think them more than Men; but if you examine their Lives and Conversations, you will find them worse than Brutes, more filthy than the very Swine. Now certainly, if we were wrought upon by such becoming Impressions of God and Religion, as are the Effects of Grace, and an Engagement so forcible, as Those of a Divine Power; nay, were we but persuaded of these matters by a bare simple, and common Assent, such an historical Faith, as we credit every Vulgar relation of matters of Fact with; did we but allow the same Deference to what we call the Word of God, which we pay to the advice, and exhortations, and common discourse of our Friends and Acquaintance; the Doctrines of the Gospel could not but be preferred by us, infinitely above any other advantages whatsoever, for the sake of that incomparable Goodness and Excellence, so illustriously visible in every part of them. But sure the least we can be imagined capable of in this case, would be to admit them into an equal share of our Affection and Esteem, with Honours, or Riches, or Friends, or any kind of Allurements this World can pretend to seduce us by. And yet, all this notwithstanding, there are but very few, who are not more afraid to offend a Parent, or a Master, or a Friend, than they are of incurring the displeasure of an Almighty God: And who would not rather choose to act in contradiction to an Article of Religion, and so forfeit Heaven hereafter, than to break the measures of worldly Interest and Prudence, at the expense of what they stand possessed of in present? This is indeed a Great Wickedness and Misfortune; but for Persons who consider things impartially, Christianity will not suffer in Their Esteem. The Honour and Excellence, the Purity and Sublime Powers of Religion are no more Impaired or Polluted by it, than the Rays of the Sun contract Defilement from the Dunghills they shine upon. For Principles are not to be tried by their Professors, but the Professors by their Principles. But we can never exclaim sufficiently against those vile Men, who profane the Truth, by their Vicious Lives; and against whom that very Truth itself hath denounced so many Woes, and such dreadful Vengeance.  
Now the first step towards informing ourselves, What the nature of True Piety is, 
The Difference between true and false Religion.  will be to distinguish it from That, which is False and Counterfeit, and only the Mask and Disguise of Religion. Till this be done, we shall but confound ourselves with equivocal and ambiguous Terms; and prevaricate, both in Expression and in Practice, as indeed the greatest part of Mankind (it is to be feared) do upon this occasion. Now there is nothing, that pretends more to a graceful Air, nor takes more true pains to appear like true Piety and Religion, than Superstition does; and yet, at the same time, nothing is more distant from, or a greater Enemy to it. Just as the Wolf, which carries some tolerable Resemblance to a Dog, but is of a quite different Disposition; and comes to devour that Flock, which it is the other's business to defend; as Counterfeit Money is more nicely wrought, than true Coin; or as a Flatterer, who makes show of extraordinary Zeal and Affection, but is in reality nothing less than that true Friend he desires to be thought. It is no injudicious Character given by Tacitus, when he describes a sort of Men, 
* Gens Superstitioni obnoxia, Religionibus adversa.  extremely liable to Superstition, and at the same time violently averse to Religion. Superstition is likewise envious, and jealous to the last degree, affectedly officious and troublesome; like a fond Courtesan, who, by her amorous jilting tricks, puts on more Tenderness, and pretends to infinitely more concern and love for the Husband, than his true Wife, whom she endeavours to lessen in his esteem. Now some of the most remarkable Circumstances, wherein these two differ, are; That Religion sincerely loves and honours God; settles the Mind in perfect ease and tranquillity, and dwells in a noble and generous, a free and gallant Spirit; whereas Superstition fears and dreads God; gives Men unworthy and injurious apprehensions of his Majesty; perplexes and scares the Man, and is indeed the Disease of a weak and mean, a timorous and narrow Soul. 
* Superstitio Error insanus. Amandos timet; quos colit violate: Morbus pusilli animi. Qui Superstitione imbutus est, quietus esse nusquam potest. Varro ait, Deum à Religioso vereri, à Superstitioso timeri.  It is (according to St. Augustin's account of it,) all over Error and Frenzy; it lives in terror of those whom it ought to love; dishonours and affronts those whom it pretends to respect and adore; it is the Sickness of a little and feeble Mind; He that is once tainted with Superstition, can never more enjoy peace and rest. Varro 's observation is, That Religious Men serve God out of Reverence; but the Superstitious out of Horror and perpetual Dread of him. But we will be a little more particular upon each of these Qualities.  
The Superstitious Person is one, who neither lets himself, 
Superstition described.  nor any thing else be quiet, but is eternally teazing and troublesome, both to God and Man. The Ideas he entertains of God represent him, as an Ill-natured and Morose, an Envious and a Spiteful Being; Unreasonable, Rigorous, and hard to be pleased; quickly provoked, but long before he is reconciled again; One that takes notice of our Actions, after the same manner that we commonly observe those of one another; with a sort of malicious Curiosity, watchful to find faults, and glad to take the advantage of any Failings. All this, it is true, he does not own, nor speak it out; but the manner of his serving God sufficiently declares, and speaks it for him; for That is agreeable, and exactly of a piece with these Notions. He trembles and quakes for fear; hath no enjoyment of himself, nor any degree of Comfort or inward Security; full of Fears and Melancholy Distrusts; always fancying, that he hath done too little; and left somewhat undone, for want of which, all the Rest will signify nothing. He very much questions whether God be satisfied with his best Endeavours; and in this disquiet he applies himself to methods of Courtship and Flattery; Tries to Appease and gain upon him by the length and importunity of his Prayers; to Bribe him with Vows and Offerings; Fancies Miracles to himself; easily believes, and takes upon trust the Counterfeit Pretensions of this kind from others; Applies every Event to his own Case, and interprets those that are most ordinary and natural, as expressly meant, and directed to Him, by the particular and immediate hand of God; he catches greedily at every Novelty; and runs after every new Pretender to Light and Revelation. 
* Duo Superstitiosis propria, nimius Timor, nimius Cultus.  Two inseparable Qualities of Superstitious People (says one) are, Excess of Fear, and Excess of Devotion. Now what in truth is all this, but to Torment one's self most immoderately, and at the expense of infinite trouble and disquiet, to injure and affront God; to deal with him after a most base, sordid, and unworthy manner; to use him, as if he were a mercenary Being, and to treat the Majesty of Heaven and Earth, as we durst not presume to use a Man of Quality or Honour? And indeed, generally speaking, not only Superstition, but most other Errors and Defects in Religion, are owing chief to want of right and becoming apprehensions of God. We debase and bring him down to Us; compare and judge of him by ourselves; clothe him with our own Infirmities, and unaccountable Humours; and then proportion and suit our Worship and Services accordingly. What horrid Profanation and Blasphemy is This?  
And yet, as detestable a Vice, as dangerous a Disease as This is, 
It is natural.  it is in some measure Natural, and all Mankind have more or less Inclination to it. Plutarch laments the Weakness of Human Nature, in that it never keeps a due Medium, nor stands firm upon its feet; but is eternally leaning and tottering to one or other Extreme. For in truth, either it declines and degenerates into Superstition and Vanity, and mistaken Religion; or else it hardens itself in a Neglect of God, and a Contempt of all Religion. We are all of us like a Silly Jilted Husband, that is Put upon by some gross Cheat of an Infamous Woman; and takes more delight in her little studied Arts to cajole and bubble him, than he finds satisfaction with his own Virtuous Wife, who serves and honours him with all the genuine Modesty, and unaffected Tenderness becoming her Character. Just thus are we abused by the large Pretences of Superstition, and prefer it before the less showy and pompous Charms of true Religion.  
It is also exceeding frequent and common; we cannot wonder the Vulgar should be infected with it, 
Common.  after what hath been said of its proceeding from Weakness of Mind, from Ignorance, or very mistaken Notions of the Divine Nature. Upon all which accounts we may well suppose it is, that Women, and Children, Old Men, and Sick Persons, or People stunned with any violent Misfortune, or under the Surprise and Oppression of some uncommon Accident, are observed to labour most under this Evil. The same hath been likewise observed by Plutarch, of rude and uncivilised Countries. 
* Inclinant naturâ ad Superstitionem Barbari. Plutarch in Sertorio.  The Barbarians, says he, are naturally disposed to be Superstitious. Of Superstition than it is, and not of Religion and true Piety, that what we commonly repeat after Plato, must be understood; where he says, that the Weakness and Cowardice of Mankind first brought Religion into Practice and Esteem; and that upon this account, Children, and Women, and Old People were most apt to receive Religious Impressions, more Nice, and Scrupulous, and more addicted to Devotion, than others. This, I say, is true of Superstition, and mistaken Devotion; but we must not entertain any such dishonourable Thoughts, of true and perfect Religion. This is of a nobler Descent, its Original is truly Divine; it is the Glory and Excellence, not the Imperfection of Reason, and Nature; and we cannot be guilty of greater Injustice to it, than by assigning such wretched Causes, for its beginning and increase, and drawing so scandalous a Pedigree for its Extract.  
Now, besides those first Seeds, and general Tendencies to Superstition, which are derived from Nature, 
Cherished by Reason and Policy.  and Common to Mankind, there are large Improvements and Additions of this Vice, owing to Industry and Cunning. For many people support and cherish it in themselves; they give it countenance and nurse it up in others, for the sake of some Convenience and Advantage to be reaped from it. It is thus, that Great Persons and Governors, though they know very well the Folly and baseness of it, yet never concern themselves with putting a stop, or giving any disturbance to it; because they are satisfied, This is a proper State-Tool, to subdue men's Minds, and lead them tamely by the Nose. For this reason it is, that they do not only take good care to nourish and blow up that Spark, which Nature hath already kindled; but when they find occasion, and upon some pressing Emergencies, they set their Brains on work to forge and invent new and unheard of Follies of this kind. This we are told was a Stratagem made use of by Scipio, Sertorius, Sylla, and some other eminent Politicians.  

* 
Qui faciunt animos humiles formidine Diuûm.  
Depressosque premunt ad terram.   Who by false Terrors Freeborn Souls debase;  
And paint Religion with so grim a Face,  
That it becomes the Scourge and Plague of human race.  

† Nulla res multidudinem efficaciùs regit, quam Superstitio.  Nothing keeps the Multitude under so effectually, as Superstition.  
But enough of this wretched People, and that base Superstition, 
An Introduction to the description of true Religion.  which, like a common Nuisance, aught to be detested by that Scholar of mine, whom I am now instructing, and attempting to accomplish in the Study of Wisdom. Let us leave them grovelling in their filth, and betake ourselves now to the Search of true Religion and Piety; of which I will here endeavour to give some strokes, and rude lines; which, like so many little Rays of Light, may be of some use at least, and help to guide us in the pursuit of it. Now from the former Considerations it does, I hope, sufficiently appear, that of the great Variety of Persuasions at present, or any possible to be Instituted, Those seem to Challenge the Pre-eminence, and best deserve the Character of Truth and Religion indeed, which, without imposing any very laborious, or much external Service upon the Body, make it their business to contract, and call the Soul home; that employ and exalt it by pure and heavenly Contemplations, in admiring and adoring the Excellent Greatness, and Majesty incomprehensible of Him, who is the First Cause of All Things; the Necessary, the Best, the Original Being; And All this, without any nice or presumptuous declaration what this Being is, or undertaking positively to determine and define any thing concerning that Nature, which we cannot understand; or prescribing too peremptorily, how he ought to be Worshipped: But contenting ourselves with such large and indefinite acknowledgements as These, That God is Goodness, and Perfection itself; infinite in all Respects, and altogether incomprehensible; too vast for human knowledge to understand, or conceive distinctly. And thus much the Pythagoreans, and other most celebrated Sects of Philosophers taught long ago. This is the Religion of Angels, and that best sort of Worshippers in Spirit and Truth, whom God seeks and loves. But among all those less spiritualised Pagans, who could not satisfy themselves with so refined a Principle, as Inward Belief, and the Exercise of the Soul only; but would needs gratify their Senses and Imagination with a visible Object of Worship, (which was an Error all the World almost was tinctured with.) The Israelites chose a Calf; but None seem to have made so good a Choice, as those who pitched upon the Sun for their God: This indeed excelling all other Creatures so vastly, with regard to its Magnitude, and Motion; its Beauty and Lustre, its wonderful Use and Activity, and the many unknown Virtues, and Efficacies of its Influences; that it does certainly deserve, nay, command the admiration of all the World; we cannot think too highly of it, while we remember it is still but a Creature; for, look round this whole Fabric, and (Man excepted) your Eye shall discover nothing so glorious, nothing equal, nay, nothing near, or comparable to it.  
The Christian Religion preserves a due Temper between these Extremes, and by devoting both Body and Soul to God, and accommodating itself to all Conditions and Capacities of Men, hath mixed the Insensible and Internal Worship, with that which is Sensible and External. Yet so, that the most perfect and Spiritual Persons employ themselves chief in the former, and the weak and less exalted are taken up with that which is invisible and popular.  
Religion consists in the Knowledge of God, and of ourselves. 
Some descriptione of Religion.  For This is a Relative Duty, and these are the two Terms of that Relation. It's business is to magnify God, and set Him as high; and to humble Man, and lay Him as low, as possibly we can. To subdue and beat him down, as a lost worthless Wretch; and when this is once done, then to furnish him with helps and means of raising himself up again; to make him duly sensible of his own Impotence and Misery, how Little, how mere a Nothing he is; that so he may cast away all Confidence in himself, and place and seek his Hope, his Comfort, his Happiness, his All, in God alone.  
That which Religion is chief concerned in, is the binding us fast to the Author and Source of all Good; the grafting us afresh, and consolidating Man to his first Cause, like Branches or Suckers into their proper Root. For so long as Man continues firm and fixed in this Union, so long he preserves the Perfection of his Nature; but on the contrary, when once he falls off, and is separated from it, all his Vigour and Powers are dried up and gone, and he immediately withers and dies away.  
The End and Effect of Religion is faithfully and truly to render their Deuce, both to God and Man; that is to say, All the Honour and Glory to God; and all the Gain and Advantage to Man. For these two comprehend under them all manner of Good whatsoever. The Profit or Gain, which is a real Amendment and bettering of our Persons and Conditions, is an essential and internal Benefit; and This belongs to Man, who is of himself, and without this, a Creature Impotent and Empty; Indigent and Necessitous; and miserable in all respects; The Glory is not so much an Advantage as an Ornament, an Additional and External Grace; and This belongs to God only; for he is the Fullness and Perfection of all Good; so absolute and complete, that nothing can be added to his Essential Happiness; and therefore Benefit is a thing he cannot receive. And thus if you please, you may understand that Angelic Hymn; Glory to God in the Highest, 
Luke II. 14.  and on Earth Peace, and Favour towards Men.  
Thus much being premised in general, the particular Steps or Directions in this matter, 
Piety explained.  must be these that follow: First, It is necessary that we apply ourselves to study, and in such a measure as we are capable, to know God. 
To know God.  For our Knowledge of Things is the Foundation and the Standard of the Honour we have for them. The first thing then, that we ought to be convinced and fully persuaded of upon this occasion, is His Existence; then, That he created the World, and that all other Being's whatsoever are the Products of his Power, and Goodness, and Wisdom: That by these same Attributes he governs this Universe of his own making; That his careful Providence watches over all things, and even the least and most inconsiderable Events do not escape his observation; That whatsoever his Dispensations to Us are, they are all for our Good; and that all our Evil comes from ourselves alone. For, if we should account those Accidents, which God appoints for us, to be Evils, this were to be guilty of great Profanation, and to blaspheme against his Government; this were to tear up the very Foundations of all Piety and Religion; because Nature teaches us to Honour and love our Benefactors; but begets hatred and aversion to them that deal unkindly by us, and do us mischief. Our Duty therefore is to get a right Notion of God's deal toward us; to resolve, that we will obey him at any rate; to receive all that comes from his hand, with Meekness and Contentation; to commit ourselves to his Protection and Care, and to submit all we are, and all we have, to his direction and wise disposal.  
The next Duty, which follows upon our Knowing God, 
To Honour him.  and which indeed results most naturally from it, is the Honouring him. And the best, the most becoming, and most Religious Honour we can pay him, consists, First of all, In raising our Souls far above any Carnal, Earthly, or Corruptible Imagination; and then exercising ourselves in the Contemplation of the Divine Nature, by all the purest, the noblest, the holiest and most reverend Conceptions that can be. When we have adorned and represented this most excellent Being to ourselves, in all the most magnificent Ideas; when we have given him the most glorious Names, and sung forth his Praises in the most excellent manner, that our Mind can possibly devise, or strain itself up to; we are still with all Humility to acknowledge, that in all this we have not done, or offered to his Majesty, any thing suitable to his own Excellency, or in itself worthy his Acceptance; and to possess ourselves with yet more awful and respectful Ideas of him, by the profoundest Sense of our own Imperfections; That it is not in the power of Human Nature to conceive any thing better; though we plainly see, that our most exalted Thoughts serve not so much to show us his Glory, as to reproach us with our own Weakness and Defects. For God is the last and highest Flight, which our Imagination is able to make, when it would soar up towards absolute Perfection; and in aspiring to this Idea, every Man let's lose his Mind, and enlarges his Notions according to his own Capacity; or rather indeed, God is infinitely greater and higher than all the boldest and bravest Flights of poor feeble Man; a Perfection more exquisite, more bright, than the Dim Eye of Mortals can receive the Lustre of, or the most towering Imagination make any approach to.  
We must also serve this God Sincerely, in Spirit, and from the Heart; for this is a sort of Service, 
To serve him with our Spirit. Joh. iv. 24.  which is most agreeable to his Nature. God himself is a Spirit, and they that worship him, must worship him in Spirit and Truth, says he, who best knew both what he was, and what he expects from Us. This Argument the very Heathens could enforce for Inward Purity, and a Sanctified Mind 
* Si Deus est animus, sit purâ ment colendus. . This he will not only accept, but it is what he seems desirous of, and hath declared will be exceeding welcome and delightful: The Father seeketh such to worship him. 
V 23.  The Offering of a sweet-smelling Savour, and what he values indeed, is That of a clean, free, and humble Spirit, (The Mind is a Sacrifice to God, says Seneca;) an unspotted Soul, and an Innocent Life. And thus others; 
† Optimus Animus pulcherrimus Dei Cultus. Religiosissimus Cultus imitari. Unicus Dei Cultus non esse malum. Lactant. Merc. Trism.  He that brings the best heart, worships God best. The most Religions Adoration is to imitate the Perfections of Him we adore; The only way of serving God is not to be an ill Man. The truly Wise Man is a True Priest of the most High God: His Mind is God's Temple, and the House where his Honour dwelleth: His Soul is God's Image, a Ray or Reflection of that Brightness and Glory above: His Affections and Appetites, like so many Oblations, are all consecrated, and entirely devoted to his use and service. And his great, his daily, his most solemn Sacrifice, is to imitate, and serve, and obey him. You see how different this is from that absurd Notion of those People, who make Religion consist in Giving to God. Alas! what can We give to Him? All is his own already; and the most we can possibly do, is but to restore and pay back what his Bounty hath bestowed upon us. But we are wretchedly mistaken, if we imagine it possible for God to receive any Addition, or be enriched from Men; No, he is above all That; Our business must be to ask of Him, to implore his Favour and Assistance for our Wants and Weaknesses: It is the Character of the Great to give, and of the Poor and Mean to ask; And therefore we may easily discern which of these two parts belongs to an Infinite Almighty God, and which to wretched indigent Mortals. 
Acts xx. 35.  It is more blessed to give than to receive: And however he may graciously condescend to interpret those Works of Mercy done for his sake, yet in the way of Sacrifice and Worship of himself, it is a Prodigy of Vanity that many have been guilty of, to think themselves in a Condition of Giving to Him, from whose liberal Hand alone it is, that they receive their own Subsistence.  
But though the Mind be that, which we are principally obliged to offer, 
With our Body.  and God is best pleased to be served with; yet is not the External Worship and Service of the Body, by any means to be neglected or disdained by us. The demonstrations of Reverence expressed by This Part, and particularly in his Public Worship, are by no means contemptible in his sight. He esteems and expects these from us; that we should appear in the Assemblies of his Servants; that we should assist and bear a part with our Brethren in what is done there; that we should observe and conform to those Ceremonies, which either the Laws have enjoined, or Custom hath made common; And that all this be done with Moderation and Temper; without Vanity or Affectation, without Hypocrisy or Ambition, without Luxury or Avarice; constantly possessing ourselves with this Reflection; that God expects to be served with the Spirit, and all these outward Services are more upon our own account than His; that they are decent significations of our Reverence and Zeal, marks of Unity, and tend to the Edification of our Brethren, the enflaming their Devotion, and encouraging them by good Examples; and that they are very Reasonable and Decent upon these accounts, though they regard Comeliness and Customs only, and are not the Essentials of Worship; nor of the very Substance of Religion; but Ornaments and Convenient Helps to it.  
The Vows and Prayers we make to God, must all of them be regulated by, 
By Prayer.  and subject to his own good Pleasure. We should never desire, we must never ask any thing, but only with submission to his wiser Appointments; and every Request must be attended with that necessary Reservation, Thy Will be done. To ask any thing contrary to the order and methods of his Providence, is as if we should attempt to bribe the Judge of all the Earth, and divert this universal Governor from his Rules of Justice and Judgement: To imagine that God is to be courted or flattered into Compliance, that Presents and Promises can win him over; is to Affront him: God cares not for our Riches, for the whole world is His, and all that is therein. He demands not any Gifts at Our Hands; for, strictly speaking, we have nothing to give. For All is His, and he only requires, that we should walk worthy of those which ourselves have so largely received from Him; He does not expect we should Present him, but that we should make known our Wants with Faith and Humility, and receive our supplies with Modesty and Thankfulness. And by such Requests he thinks himself honoured. But even in these we must be much resigned. For Us to prescribe to His Wisdom, to be too peremptory and particular in our Requests; to inform Him what is fit for us, or eager and importunate, for what we are fond of, is a breach of that Deference and Resignation we own to God; and it is often of ill Consequence to ourselves; it exposes Men to the Inconvenience of Midas in the Fable, and ruins them at their own instance. The wisest, as well as the most becoming Style, for all our Addresses to the Throne of Grace, is, That he would act with us according to his own Wisdom and Goodness; and always do and give those things, which are most pleasing to Him, and which He knows best, and most expedient for Us.  
In a word, All our Thoughts, our Words, our Behaviour, and whole Communion with God should be managed, even in our greatest privacy, with the same Decency and Reverence, as if all the World were by, and saw them; and all our Conversation with Men should be managed with that Sincerity, which becomes those, who remember that God sees, and is conscious to every thing we do, and cannot be imposed upon, though our Brethren may.  
The making bold with God's most Holy Name, is a Great and Horrible violation of that profound Honour and Respect we own to him; 
A Reverend use of his Name.  And those People are exceedingly to blame, who take it into their Mouths lightly, and promiscuously, and mingle it with every Sentence they speak, and every thing they do. Of this Nature are all those Exclamations of Passion, or Wonder, or Surprise; all those vain and customary Oaths, which we so frequently hear, and find habitual; all those mentionings of God, by Men who do not so much as think of Him, or know that they do it; and to be short, All those hasty and trifling forms of speech, wherein God is called upon irreverently and by the by; for No reason at all; or for Such as is not important enough to justify such an Invocation. For we should by all means take care of being familiar or saucy with so August a Majesty; we should name him but seldom; and when we do, with great Seriousness and Gravity; with Modesty and Humility, with Reverence and Fear. We should never speak of Him, or His do, but with all possible Submission and Caution; and especially, we should never take upon us to judge or pass sentence upon any of His Actions, but conclude, that whatever he does, is Just, and Good, and fittest to be done.  
And thus you have such a compendious Account of Piety, as I thought necessary for this place. 
Conclusion.  I only add, that This Virtue ought to be had in the greatest Esteem and Veneration; and that Men should make it their Constant Care and Business, as well as Entertainment and Delight, thus to be continually exercised in the Contemplation of Almighty God; with Freedom and Cheerfulness, and Filial Reverence and Affection; for This is Religion; And not with a Mind terrified and troubled, and haunted with ghastly and affrighting Ideas of him, which is the Vice and the Torment of the Superstitious. As to the particular Points both of Faith and Practice, The Christian Doctrine is to be our Rule: For this is the Truest, the Noblest, the most Refined and Spiritual, and best accommodated to the Glory of God, the Comfort and Safety of our own Souls, and the General Good of Mankind. And therefore here we must fix, and to this we must stick; And amidst the unhappy Differences of these several Contending Parties, who all profess to follow this Rule, the Constant Authority, and the Concurring Sense and universal Agreement of the Church in all Ages and Parts of the Christian World, is to be our Measure. This is an Authority so venerable, that it requires our Submission with Meekness and much Deference. Here we must six; and to This we must refer the Resolution of our Doubts. At least All that are of a modest and peaceable Spirit will forbear the being factious and troublesome, and not disturb the Quiet and Order of their Brethren, by starting any Novelty, or engaging in behalf of any Private and Singular Opinions. And this they are obliged in Duty and Conscience to do, upon the account of the Reasons laid down by me at large in the first and last Chapters of my Third Truth; which places alone are sufficient to satisfy those Readers, who either have not the opportunity, or will not give themselves the trouble of perusing the whole Book.  
One necessary Caution there is yet behind, 
Piety and Probity must go together.  and he who makes any pretensions to Wisdom, must by all means attend to it; which is, That he do not separate the Piety spoken of in this Chapter, from that Probity and Integrity treated of before; and so imagining, that One of these is sufficient for his purpose, be at no pains to qualify himself with the Other; and as careful must he be too, not to confound and jumble these two together, as if they were but two names for one and the same thing. For in truth, Piety and Probity, Devotion and Conscience, are distinct in their very nature, are derived from different Causes, and proceed upon different Motives and Respects. I desire indeed, that they may go hand in hand, and be both united in the Person, whom at present I am forming into Wisdom; and most certain it is, that Either of them without the Other, is not, cannot be perfect. But still they must both meet, and both continue distinct; and though we would join, yet we must take care not to confound them. And These are two Precipices, which must be diligently avoided; and few indeed keep clear of them; for either they separate Religion and common Honesty, so as to satisfy themselves with one of them alone; or else they jumble Godliness and Morality together, so as to make them all one, or at least to represent them, as exactly of the same Species, and effects of the same Common Principle.  
The Persons under the former Error, 
Piety without Probity.  which separate these Two, and content themselves with One of them singly, are of two sorts: For some devote themselves entirely to the Worship and Service of God, spend all their time and pains, in Praying, and Hearing, and other holy Ordinances; and place all Religion in These; but as for Virtue, and strict Honesty in their Deal, Sincerity, and Charity, and the like, and in a word, living in agreement to their Prayers, and practising what they hear and read, they have no relish or regard for These things, nor make any account of them at all. This is a Vice taken notice of, as Epidemical, and in a manner Natural to the People of the Jews, (who were above all Mankind addicted to Superstition, and upon that account scandalous and detestable to all the World besides;) and among them the Scribes and Pharisees in a yet more infamous degree. The Prophets exclaim against it loudly, and afterwards their own Messiah reproaches them with it perpetually. He exposes that villainous Hypocrisy, 
Matt. xxi.  which made their Temple a Den of Thiefs; which exalted their Ceremonies and outward Observances, to the prejudice of inward and substantial Holiness; which made a Conscience of Traditions, that they might, 
xv.  under that pretence, get a convenient Cloak and Excuse for the most unnatural Barbarities; which Tithed Mint, and Anise, and Cummin, 
xxiii.  but overlooked Judgement, and Righteousness, and Fidelity: In one word, They were so overrun, so extravagantly conceited in the matter of external Devotion, and ceremonious Observances; that, provided they were punctual in These, they fancied themselves discharged of all Other Duties; nay, they took occasion from thence to harden their hearts, and thought This would atone for other Faults, and give them a Privilege of being wicked. This is a sort of Female and Vulgar Piety, and vast numbers are tainted with it every where, at this very day; they lay out all their Diligence and Care upon those little Exercises of outward Devotion; for Little sure they are, as They use them, who never carry the Effects of them home to their Lives and Consciences; but Pray, and Read, and frequent the Church, and Ordinances, and are not one whit the better Men for doing so. This gave occasion to that Proverb, A Saint at Church, and a Devil at Home. They lend their hand, and their outside to God, pay Him all the demonstrations of Reverence and Respect; And a fair outside it is; but all This, as our Lord told the Pharisees, is but a whited Wall, and a whited Sepulchre; This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Nay, they do not only neglect the Practice of other Duties, and take no pains to be all of a piece; but their very Holiness itself is from a wicked Design; they make this Piety a Cover for greater Impieties; allege, and depend upon their Devotions, first to give them Credit in the World, and greater Opportunities to deceive under the Mask of so much Sanctity; and then for the extenuating or making a compensation for their Vices, and sinful Liberties.  
Others there are, who run into a distant, and quite contrary Extreme: They lay so great Stress upon Virtue and Moral Honesty, as to value nothing else; and make Religion and Piety, strictly so called, no part of their Concern. This is a Fault observable in some of the Philosophers; and may be observed very commonly in people of Atheistical Principles. And surely, it is the proper Fruit of such a Corrupt Tree; for, that Men should believe God and his Revelations; that they should call Themselves Christians, and yet be of opinion, that we are excused from all the Acknowledgements, and Marks of Homage due, and paid to God, in our Faith and Worship, and That Branch of our Duty, which is properly distinguished by the Title of Godliness, is very inconsistent, and unaccountable.  
These are the two Vicious Extremes; whether of the Two is the more or less so, I shall not at present take upon me to determine; nor will I dispute, whether Religion, or Morality, will stand a Man in greater stead. Thus much only give me leave to add, by way of Comparison, as to Three Considerations; which is, that the Former, as described in the last Paragraph, and practised by the Jews, is without dispute, by much the easier, the more pompous, and more incident to weak and vulgar Souls. The Latter must be allowed infinitely more difficult and laborious; it makes less Noise and Ostentation in the World, and is more proper to Brave, Resolute, and Generous Minds, for the former reasons; as being more substantial, and of a larger compass, meeting with great opposition, and having less to feed men's Vanity with.  
My business is next with a Second Sort of Men, 
Against them that confound these two.  who confound and spoil all, for want of a just Distinction, but perplex these Two, and the Grace of God; and jumble all together. These in truth are defective in all Three. When you come to examine the matter strictly, they will be found to have neither true Religion, nor true Moral Honesty, nor true Grace at the bottom; but by the Figure and all the outward appearances they make, they very much resemble the Persons mentioned before, who are so immoderately zealous for Religion, that they have little or no concern for any thing besides; marvellously satisfied with Themselves, and merciless Censurers of all the World besides. And these are the Men, that make all manner of Probity and Good Actions to be a consequent and attendant upon Religion; wholly to depend upon, and entirely to be devoted to it; and so they acknowledge no such thing as Principles of Natural Justice, or Probity of Mind, and otherwise than they are derived from, and moved by the Springs of Considerations purely Religious. Now the Matter is far otherwise; for Religion is not only after it in Time, but more limited and particular in its Extent. This is a distinct Virtue, and not the Comprehension and Sum of all Virtues; and, as the Instances of Pharisees and Hypecrites here prove, may subsist without Them, or that general good Disposition of Mind, which we call Probity: And so again may They be independent of Religion, as the Examples of Philosophers, and good Moral Heathens (who we cannot say had ever any Religion properly so called), show on the other hand. This is also, according to the common Schemes of Theology, a Moral Virtue, a Branch of Justice, which we know is one of the Four Cardinal Virtues, and teaches us to give to All their Due; according to their Quality, and respective Claims. Now God being Supreme, the Maker and Master of the Universe, we are bound to pay him the most profound Honour, the most humble Obedience, the most punctual and diligent Service. This now is properly Religion, and consequently it is a division under the General Topick of Justice. Again, These Persons, as they mistake the Nature, so do they likewise invert the Order of things; for they make Religion antecedent to Probity: But how can this be, since, as the Apostle says, Faith cometh by Hearing, and Hearing by the Word of God; how, I say, can That which is the Effect of Revelation and Instruction, be the Cause of a Thing originally rooted in Nature, born with us, and inseparable from us? For such is that Law and Light of God, kindled in every Man's Breast, and interwoven with the Constitution of the whole Species. This therefore is plainly disturbing the true Order of these matters; and turning them out of all method. They would have a Man Virtuous and entirely Good, merely for the Prospect of Heaven to allure, or the Terrors of Hell to affright and awe him into his Duty. But methinks those Expressions carry a very ill sound, and speak a mean and vulgar Virtue: ' If the Fear of the Divine Vengeance and Everlasting Damnation did not restrain me, I would do thus or thus. O pitiful cowardly Wretch! what Sense, what Notion hast thou of thy Duty? what Inclinations dost thou cherish all this while? what Motives dost thou act upon? what Thanks dost thou deserve for all that is done upon such constraint and against thy own Will? Thou art not wicked, because thou darest not be so for fear of the Rod. Now I would have thee so perfect, as not to want the Courage but the Inclination to do amiss; I would have thee so resolutely good, as not to commit the least Evil, though thou were't sure never to be chidden, never to be called to an account for it. Thou playest the part of a Good Man, that thou may'st be thanked and rewarded for thy pains; I would have thee be really so, without any prospect of hire or gain, nay though none but thyself should ever be conscious of thy Virtue. I would have thee so, because the Laws and Dictates of Nature and Reason direct and Command thee to be so. (For Nature and Reason in this case are but another word for God; and These Principles, and That Light, and the Original Distinctions of Good and Evil are his Will and his Laws issued in a different manner). Because the Order and Good Government of the World, whereof thou art a part, require this at thy hands; because thou canst not consent to be otherwise, without acting against thyself, in contradiction to thy Being, to thy Interest, to the End of thy Creation; And when thou hast thus satisfied thy duty and acted upon these motives, never be solicitous for the Event; but persevere in Virtue, in despite of any Sufferings or Dangers that may threaten thee.  
When I urge This as the best Principle of doing well, I do not wholly disallow all others, nor utterly condemn that Probity required and cherished by the external motives of Recompense and Punishment, as if These were unlawful to be proceeded upon. Doubtless they have their Use and Efficacy; are very proper for the reducing of Ill Men, who must be treated in a more slavish and mercenary way; and the Foundations thus laid at first come frequently to noble Improvements. But still I call this a poorer and meaner Principle, and would have my Wise Man aspire to something sublimer, and more worthy his Character. For This requires a brighter, stronger, and more generous Probity, than the Common sort of Mankind may be allowed to take up with. And even Divines have generally represented such a Piety as Servile, Imperfect; accommodated to the weaker and more ignorant, and fit for Babes and Beginners, than for Strong and Masterly Christians. This farther is very certain, that the Probity wholly depending upon a Spirit of Zeal and Religion; and having no regard to the Principles of Natural Light; besides that it must needs be accidental and unequal in its Operations, and want that Evenness and Constancy which was there largely shown to be one of its Properties; I add, that This is a very dangerous Principle, and does frequently pruduce horrid and scandalous effects; for it makes all the Rules of Common Honesty subservient to Zeal for Religion; and opens a Door for all those execrable Villainies, which the dear-bought experience of all Ages hath too sensibly convinced us, are capable of being committed under the fair Show and Colour of Piety. And These are really so dreadful and detestable, that we have reason to question, whether any other occasion or pretence in the World have done more mischief, than those false but specious professions of Religion. The Cause and Honour of God is indeed the Greatest, the Noblest, and most worthy our Zeal; and if it were not all this in its own nature, the abuse of it could never be so fatal as it is. For Brave and Valuable things only are subjects for Hypocrisy; and what is little and despicable, as the right use of it does no great good, so the perverting it to wrong purposes can do no mighty harm. It is not therefore any Disparagement to Religion, but the confessed Excellency of it above any other Subject whatsoever, that the Corruption and false Pretences of it are so pernicious; Were it less good, the abuse of it must have been less evil.  

* 
Tantum Religio potuit suadere malorum— mdash;  
Illud in his rebus vereor ne forte rearis  
Impia te Rationis inire elementa, viamque  
Endogredi sceleris. Quod contrà saepius olim  
Religio perperit seclerosa atque impia facta.  Lucret. Lib. 1.  Such Devilish Acts Religion could persuade—  
If you shall start at these bold Truths, and fly  
Such Lines as Maxims of Impiety,  
Consider that Religion did, and will,  
Contrive, promote, and act the greatest Ill  Creech. 
To lay aside all manner of Affection and Common Humanity for all Sects and Parties but our own; To look with Scorn and Indignation upon them, as if every Man, of a different Persuasion from ourselves were perfect Brutes and Monsters; To suppose ourselves disparaged and defiled with their Company and Conversation; These are some of the mildest and most moderate principles and actions of such furious Zealots. He that professes himself a good and an honest Man merely for the Check and Restraints which Religious Fears have upon him; and hath no other motives of Virtue, no scruples of doing ill, but such as depend upon Revealed Promises and Threaten, is a Man of less noble Principles, more hardly to be trusted, and less to be esteemed or admired. I will not call such a Man wickeder; but sure there is more danger in him, than if he had no Virtue nor Religion neither. Such People would tempt one to think that Religion whets their Passions, and inflames them with Pretences of Zeal, 
John XVI. 2.  as it did the Jews of old; Whosoever killeth you, shall think that he doth God service. Not that I mean, by all This to cast the least Aspersion upon Religion, as if It Taught, or warranted, or countenanced any kind of Evil, (as some who from hence take occasion to argue and rail at Religion in general, would pretend; (For this is not to show their reason, but to betray their extreme Folly, or their extreme Malice) The falsest and most absurd of all Persuasions that ever were, will not own any such Intention. But the bottom of all this Mischief seems to lie here; That such Men have no taste or sense, no Idea or distinct Notion of Sincerity and Honesty, but merely as it retains to Religion, and is entirely in its service and devotion; and withal they know no other Definition of a Good Man, but One who is extremely diligent and warm in the propagating and promoting the Religion himself professes; From which two Imaginations joined together, they easily and naturally slide into a Third; and presently persuade themselves, that any the blackest and most barbarous Enormities, Treachery and Treason, Seditions and Murders, are not only lawful and allowable, when sheltered under the Colour of Sanctity, and the protection of a Zeal for the advancement of one's Religion; but they are even Sanctified by this pretence; so far from deserving Punishment or Reproach, that they commence Commendable and Meritorious; and think nothing less than a Canonization their due, if their own Party and Persuasion reap any advantage, or their Adversaries suffer any damage or defeat from them. Thus the Jews, we read, were most unnatural and barbarous to their Parents; unjust to their Neighbours; they neither Lent nor Gave to those in want; and were so far from contributing towards supplying the Necessities of the Poor, that they refused to pay their own just debts; and all this because they contributed to the Temple; 
Matth. XV. St. Hier.  Corban was thought an answer sufficient to stop the mouths of all the World, and He that could make this reply, looked upon himself discharged from all Duties and Demands whatsoever. Let Parents starve, or Creditors be cheated, yet all was well, so long as the Money that should have paid the one, and fed the other, was devoted to pious Uses.  
And now, to conclude what I have to say upon this Subject, I will show you very briefly, 
Conclusion.  how I would have my wise Man qualified, with regard to Piety and Probity, which is in one word by a strict union, and inseparable alliance of them both; and that in such a manner, that, like Persons in a conjugal State, each should subsist and be able to act upon its own natural and proper Strength, but yet neither of them should ever part, or be destitute of the other. And then to make the Union complete, and the Virtue as Christian and Noble as it is capable of being, I desire that both the Former Qualifications may be crowned with the Grace of God, which, as I have observed before, he is not sparing in to Them who do their utmost, but will be sure to give his Holy Spirit sufficiently and liberally, to all Them that sincerely and devoutly ask Him.  

THE Advertisements thought necessary to be inserted here, being not so much in the nature of Remarks upon little occasional Passages, as Dissertations upon Distinct Arguments, both here and in the Eleventh Chapter; the Reader will find them at the End of this Second Book. It appearing more Convenient to allow them a separate place by themselves; than to make such very large Interruptions in the Body of this Treatise.    

CHAP. VI Of a due Regulation of a Man's Pleasures and Desires.  
ONE very considerable effect of Wisdom, is the Teaching and Qualifying a Man, to be moderate in all his Pleasures, and attain a perfect Mastery over his Desires. For, as for renouncing all our Pleasures, and utterly extinguishing all Inclination, I am so far from expecting any such thing in that Pattern of Wisdom I am now endeavouring to form; that I look upon This, not only as a fantastical and extravagant; but, which is a great deal worse, I verily believe it to be a Vicious and an Unnatural Notion. The first thing therefore requisite to be done at present, is to confute that Opinion, which absolutely condemns, and would fain exterminate all Pleasures; and then, after the vindication of the thing in general, to lay down some directions, how Men ought to govern Themselves in the Use and Enjoyment of them.  
There is scarce any Opinion more specious and plausible, more admired by the generality of Mankind, 
Of the Contempt of the World.  and more affected by those who pretend to be, and would fain pass for the best and most knowing part of them, than the Contempt of the World. No Man sets up for extraordinary Wisdom and Sanctity, but One of his solemn and most pompous Professions, is the Neglecting and absolutely Despising all sorts of Pleasure; a perfect Disregard of the Body, an Abstraction of the Mind, and retiring within himself; so as to cut off all correspendence with the World and the Body; raising and refining his Mind by the Contemplation of noble and sublime Subjects; and thus contriving, that his life shall pass away in a State of Insensibility; without so much as ever descending to taste, or take notice of its Enjoyments. And indeed, the common expression of Men's passing away their Time is in a peculiar manner applicable to these Persons above any others: For they have a notion, that the best Use Life can possibly be put to, is to let it slide over without observation; to deceive the Time, and steal from the World, as if Living were a most miserable Hardship, full of unavoidable Mischiefs; and a Penance so burdensome and tedious, that He only is happy, who can make his escape from it. Thus these great Sages dodge, and run away from the World; they do not only bring the common methods of Living into Suspicion, and cast an Odium upon the Recreations and Entertainments, and innocent Liberties in common use; but they even proclaim War upon the Necessities of Nature; and profess an Aversion to those very things, which God in his Wisdom hath seasoned with Pleasure, on purpose to recommend the Use of them to us. They never come in the way of these, but with Reluctance, and are rather dragged, than move willingly; they keep their mind still in exercise and employment upon somewhat else, and are absent in thought all the while; In short, If you will believe the mighty boasts they make, and all the mortified account they give of themselves, Their whole Life is a Toil and a Burden; Death is the only Ease and Solace they propose to themselves. And that unnatural Sentence is ever in their mouths, 
* Vitam habere in Patientiâ, mortem in Desiderio.  That they do indeed bear and can be content to Live, but if they might follow their own Inclinations, the thing they wish, and would much rather choose, is to Die.  
But it will be no hard matter to take off all the seeming Virtue of this Opinion, 
This Opininion disapproved.  and to blast the Glories and Commendations it pretends to. For when we come to a close and impartial Consideration of the matter, The Unreasonableness, the great Wickedness indeed, of such a Contempt discovers itself in several Instances. For, First of all, if we consult Nature, and attend to the Condition and Design of our Creation, Reason will teach us, that nothing is more Graceful, no Duty more Obligatory, than the considering and maintaining the Character assigned to us; that is in plain English, the Learning to live here, in all respects, as becomes Men. It is in truth a very difficult Study, but withal a most divine Accomplishment, to know how to Enjoy and Use the Being God hath given us, as he intended we should do: To observe the Common Model of Nature, and then the particular Circumstances and Qualifications of our own State and Case: And so to adjust and proportion our behaviour to the first of these, as at the same time to be guilty of nothing foreign to our private Condition, or any way disagreeable to the part we are to play upon this Common Theatre. We are to follow and to act what is given us, but not to invent and make a new part of our own head. But now these Extravagant Singularities, These Studied and Artificial Essays and Overtures, These ways of living beside the common road, are all of them Sallies of Men's own Folly, and Passion, and impertinent Additions of such, as, because they do not understand their part, mistake and overdo it. They are the Diseases and Frenzies of the Soul, that put Men quite beside their Senses. They Spiritualise themselves, only to be more refined Fools; and while they affect the perfection of Angels, degenerate into the stupidity of Brutes. It was wisely said by him in the Comedy, Homo sum' humani à me nihil alienum puto; which with respect to our present Subject is, I myself am a Man; and therefore must think nothing that is Human, unworthy my concern. For this is the very State of our Case. Man is a compounded Being; a Creature consisting of Soul and Body both; and it is by no means commendable to maim Nature and take the Building to Pieces, by cutting off this Fleshly Tabernacle. God hath United, and as it were Married these Two together, by all the Ties of Nature, and the most tender intimate Affection; and how impious an Undertaking is it for Us to create Jealousies and Dislikes, to drive things to Separation and Divorce, and thus to put asunder those whom God hath joined together? Quite contrary, we should rather tie this Knot faster, by all the good Offices and mutual Assistances they are capable of to one another. For indeed, they are well contrived for such reciprocal Services. The Body of its self is heavy and stupid, and therefore the Soul should animate, and awaken, and render it Vigorous and Active. The Spirit of its self is light and airy, and oftentimes very troublesomely brisk; and therefore the Body is of use to check and six it. In a word, The Mind should govern, and cherish, and be helpful to the Body, (as a Husband should assist and direct his Wife) and by no means hate, or cast it off; or despise the Infirmities and Necessities of this weaker Vessel. It is an unbecoming Niceness and Pride, to refuse the partaking in its innocent Pleasures; such as Nature ordains, and the Laws of God and Man allow, for our Recreation and Entertainment. For the thing required upon this Occasion is not total Abstinence, but prudent Moderation. Man is really bound to make this Life a considerable part of his Care; to taste the Pleasures of it; nay, to chew the Cud, and reflect upon them with Satisfaction; for all this is necessary to give a right Relish and Value of them, and to make him duly thankful, and sensible of the Goodness of that Providence, which hath made so liberal a Provision for our Entertainment here below. Do not mistake; There is no part of that which God hath in bounty bestowed upon us, unworthy our regard: Were it below Us to accept, it would have been much more below Him to give. We shall do well therefore to remember, not only that we may receive it, but that we are accountable for every the least mite of it. And therefore the Use of Life is no jesting matter; but a Commission, and a Talon, which requires our most serious Care; that the living in agreement to Nature, and governing ourselves by such Rules, as result from a due Consideration of it, is an express Duty, imposed upon us in very good earnest, and with an intent to be severely reckoned for.  
And Thus much may serve to convince us, how unnatural, 
See B. III. Ch. 38.  and how foolish a Delicacy that is, which teaches Men to condemn Actions as Vicious, because they are Natural; or to nauseate and disdain them, as mean and below their Character, because they are necessary. Whereas in reality, Necessity and Pleasure are the happiest Marriage that ever God made in all the Course of Nature. It is a most convincing Demonstration of his Infinite Wisdom, that in those Actions which are of greatest Use and indispensable Necessity to human Life, the matter should be so ordered, that some agreeable Satisfaction should always attend them; and that our Senses should be feasted, as often as our Wants are supplied. Thus are we doubly invited to our Refreshments; first by Reason and Necessity, and then by Appetite, and a certainty of being Gratified. Now your mortified and Philosophical Contemners of the World take upon them to invert this Order, break the Rules of Nature, and utterly overthrow this beautiful Establishment. Whereas in truth, it is every whit as unreasonable and unjust to fall out with the World, and utterly renounce all Pleasures, as it is to dote, and be fond of all, and abandon one's self to all manner of Excess and Abuse of them. In short, We should neither run after them, nor run away from them. But when they make their Approaches, and put themselves in our way, we should receive them kindly, love them moderately, and enjoy them soberly and discreetly; in such manner as will be prescribed hereafter, when our Method brings us to the Rules proper for this Occasion.  
He who values himself upon this Abstraction of the Soul, and keeping it in a Separate and Independent State from the Body, let him give us a Trial of his Skill, when the Body is languishing under Sickness, or tortured with Pain; and show that he can at such a time preserve it free, and above the reach of this Contagion. Then Experience will show such Attempts as much out of his Power, as Reason argues them to be against his Duty. For, if we will consider this matter as in all Equity and Common Humanity it stands, it is certain the Soul ought not to abandon the Body, nor cast off all Fellow-feeling of its Sufferings and Distresses. It is mere Apishness and Affectation for any Man to pretend to it. The Mind, if you please, aught to go thus far; It should look both Pleasure and Pain in the Face, without Commotion or Transport; with the same Composure of Countenance, and Evenness of Temper: Or rather let it meet the One with a Severe and Grave Mien, and the Other with an Air of Gaiety; But let the Circumstances of the Man be what they will, the Mind is obliged upon all occasions to stand by the Body; to lend it Assistance, to espouse it, Cause, and keep it in constant Discipline, and good Order.  
Temperance, which is the Rule and Standard of Pleasure, consists in a Mediocrity, and is no less distant from a Sullen Insensibility, which is the Extreme in point of Defect; than it is from Extravagance and Luxury, which is the other Extreme in Excess. For voluntary Rigour and Torment is unnatural; and 'tis as ridiculous to hate cheap and easy Conveniences, as it is mad and foolish to purchase expensive and uncommon Delicacles.  
The Contempt of the World sounds big in the Mouth; they are very solemn and pompous Words, and such as every Man proclaims his own Gallantry in, with great Triumph. But when we come to inquire into the true meaning of this Expression, and what there is really in it; I cannot for my part think that the Persons who use the Phrase, know what they Intent by it; and much less does it appear, that any of them practice what it denotes, if it have any Sense or Signification at all. For after all, What does this Despising of the World import? What is this World, which they represent as so just an Object of Contempt? Is it the Heavens, and the Earth, and in one word, what we call the Universe, or whole Frame of Created Being's? No; These they allow are no such despicable things. What are we to understand by it then? The Use and Profit, the Service and Convenience, which these Things are capable of yielding us? What monstrous Ingratitude would this be to the Great Author and Maker of all these things, who in Kindness fitted them to our use, and provided for our Necessities by them? What a Reproach and Accusation upon Humane Nature in general, which leaves us liable to such Necessities? For after all their blustering, I would fain know how they can dispense with the want of These things, or which way they can continue Men, and subsist without them? If then you shall evade this Difficulty too, and say that you understand the World neither in the one, nor the other of these Senses; but All that you make the Object of your Contempt, is the Abuse of things Good and Necessary; that is, The Vanities and Follies, the Extravagances and Vicious Excesses, which you see daily practised, and which are the Failings common to all that appear to be fond of living like the rest of the World; I must tell you, That, however commendable your Virtue, or the Design of it may be in itself, yet you give it a wrong Name. For what can be more injurious than to call those Things the World, which are no part of it, nor hath the World any thing to do with them? So far from it, that These are all of them directly against the Order and good Government of the World; and in truth, have no Being, no Foundation in Nature, but are purely Additions of men's making, born and brought up within their own Breasts. These are Artificial Debaucheries, the effect of wicked Industry and Skill, to corrupt and pervert Nature; and therefore the preserving a Man's Self from these, in such manner as the Study of Wisdom, and the Rules, which you will meet with presently, direct; This is not Despising the World, which is not one whit the less, but would be a great deal more perfect, if all these things were taken out of it; but it deserves much rather to be called, Making a good Use of the World, and behaving one's self prudently in it: And thus Divines make a very just Distinction, between Using the World, and Delighting in it. These Philosophical Gentlemen, I know very well, imagine Themselves great Masters, and that they have got quite above the World, and all its Temptations, and Enjoyments, because they practise some affected Singularities, and have put themselves in a way of living, quite beside the common Road of the rest of Mankind. But alas! This is all a Jest. The World hath nothing in it so Worldly, and so particular as these very Men are; There is a great deal more trifling, and playing the Fool, by Those that pretend to shun and live out of it, than by Them that are content to be thought in it; and if you would find Fondness and Concern for the World in Perfection, you must seek it in those places, where you hear most of running away from it, and scorning all its Enjoyments. Upon the whole matter, This abandoning all Pleasures, and stifling all our Desires, is an Extreme as culpable, as abandoning ourselves to them. What I say here, is intended as a just Reproof of Those Men and their Hypocrisy, whose pretended Mortifications, and particular way of making a Figure in the World, serves only to swell them more with Pride, and fill them with impudent and censorious Malice against all who are not of Their way: But I would not be thought to cast the least Reflection upon any Religious Self-denial, or any such Retirements and Austerities as are practised for the Advantage of Piety and Heavenly Contemplation. But still I say, To condemn and disallow such Appetites and such Gratifications without Reserve, is the Effect of a Sick Imagination; a fantastical, morose, and unnatural Opinion. God himself is the Creator and the Giver of Pleasure; 
See B. III Ch. 38.  and our Duty is to receive it Thankfully, and not to disparage the Gift, by charging it with Folly. All that we have to do in the Case, is to learn how to enjoy these things, and to use them safely; to hearken to the Voice of Wisdom, and conform ourselves to those Rules of Behaviour, which she will not fail to furnish us with upon this Occasion.  
Now the Direction, necessary for this purpose may very well be reduced to Four Particulars. First, 
The second part, which concerns the regulating our pleasures and desires.  That our Desires be Little. Secondly, That they be Natural. Thirdly, That they be Moderate. And Lastly, That they be bounded within a short compass, and with regard to one's own self. And these are such Qualifications, as, if these mighty mortified Persons, and magnanimous Contemners of the World would practise in good earnest, I should allow them to be Excellent Men indeed. These Four generally go together. And, when thus in Conjunction, they make up one Perfect and Entire Rule. One might indeed contract them into less compass; And he that is disposed to save his Memory, may comprehend all the Four Qualities in this single Word, Natural. For in truth, Nature, if we would faithfully pursue her Dictates, is not only the Fundamental, but of herself alone a Sufficient Direction to us, in the management of this whole matter. But however, to explain the Thing more fully, and for the making our Notions more clear and easy, we will allow each of these Particulars a distinct Consideration.  
1. The First Branch then of this Rule concerns the Quantity of the Object, and commands us to desire but Little. The restraining our Desires, and cutting them short, so that they shall extend to very few, if any Things at all, is of infinite Use and Advantage: It is the straightest Road to Happiness; a certain Defence against the Assaults of Fortune; it secures all the Avenues by which she can attack us, and leaves her nothing to fasten upon; It is the only course we can take to live Contentedly, and Happily, and in one word, Wisely. He that can bring himself to desire nothing, the matter is not great if he have nothing; for even upon these Terms he is as Rich, and as Great, as he that possesses all things; They come both to one at last; for in summing up a Man's Wants, 
* Nihil interest, an habeas, an non concupiscas.  it makes no difference in the account, whether you actually have a thing, or whether you have no desire of it. For which reason it was well enough observed, that Wealth and Contentment were not to be attained by Variety and Abundance, but by Scarcity and Nothing; that is, by Scarcity of Desires; for He that is Poor in Desires is Rich in Contentation. 
* Summae opes inopia Cupiditatum.  The Want of Desires is the true, the greatest Wealth. In a word, The Man who desires nothing, hath made great Advances toward a State of Absolute Perfection, and is in some degree like God himself. He approaches very near to the Condition of the Saints and Blessed Spirits in Heaven, whose Happiness does not consist in having and enjoying all that We value here below, but in not wanting, not desiring, and being above it all. 
† Qui Desiderium suum clausit, cum Jove de faelicitate contendit.  He that hath mastered, and confined his Desires, may vie Happiness with Jove himself; says a Heathen Author. But on the other hand; if we let the Reins lose, and suffer Appetite to fly out at pleasure; if nothing but Abundance will satisfy, and we grow Nice and Fanciful in the Proposals we make to ourselves, perpetual Misery and Torment must be our Portion. Things in their own Nature superfluous will then become necessary and indispensable; our Mind loses its Native Freedom, and is enslaved to the Body; and all we live for from thenceforward, is only Wantonness and Pleasure. If we do not moderate our Pleasures and Desires, and measure all we have, and all we seek, by the Standard of Reason, Opinion will carry us away, and run us upon Pits and Precipices, without bounds, or bottom. For when we once have begun to indulge our Extravagances, there is no knowing where the Luxury will end. At this rate, for instance, we may cover our Shoes, first with Velvet, then with Gold, after that with Embroidery, and at last come to set them with Pearls and Diamonds; And thus when we lay the Foundations, and carry up the Walls of our Houses, we may rise from Stone to Marble, and then to Jaspar and Porphyry.  
This method of enriching one's self hath likewise these farther Advantages, that it exposes a Man to no Fraud or Injustice, but is agreeable to the strictest Rules of Equity; and it is also entirely in every one's own power and disposal. There is no need of going abroad to seek for Contentment; it dwells at home; we need but ask ourselves, and we may have it: Stop but the Current of our own Desires, and the thing is done. How unreasonable is all the Formality of Prayers, and Vows, and Wishes; all the Complaints we make of Vexations and Disappointments; all the Blame we lay upon God and Nature, and the World, how wicked and unjust are they; when the Result of all is in truth no more than This, That we want something to be given us, which none can give, none can procure, but ourselves; and which we are so abundantly provided with Means and Opportunities of obtaining, that we cannot possibly fail of it, unless we will be wanting to ourselves? For after all, Why should I rather beg of another to grant me what I have not, than of myself not to desire or be uneasy for the want of it? 
* Quare potius à fortunà impetrem ut det, quàm à me ne petam? quare autem petam oblitus fragilitatis humanae? Sense. Epist. xv.  How absurd is it to think Fortune will gratify my Desires, when I cannot ease myself by ceasing to desire? And wherefore should I so for forget the frailty of my Condition, as to indulge my Desires? If I either cannot, or will not prevail with myself, whom I have a Right to govern; with what confidence can I pretend to importune others, over whom I have no Right, nor Power; and hope to extort from Them, what, without all this trouble of ask, might have come much better from my own Hand? Take this then for the first Rule necessary for the Regulating men's Pleasures and Desires, That the Quantity be rightly adjusted. For this Little, or to express the thing in terms every whit as true, though more acceptable, A moderate Proportion, and Sufficiency of Mind, is the thing that brings Wisdom and Satisfaction. This is what will content a Wise Man, and keep him always in a State of Ease and Tranquillity. Upon the full Conviction of this Truth it is, that I have chosen for my Motto those two significant words; Paix & Peu. Quiet and a Little. A Fool thinks nothing enough; he is sickle and irresolute; knows not what he would have; nor when to have done; and consequently can never be contented, because he never knows what would satisfy him. Such a Man is well enough represented by the Story Plutarch tells of the Moon; which came to her Mother, and begged she would give her some New  that would sit her; but received this Answer, That such a Garment was impossible to be made, for she was sometimes very Big, and at other times very Little, and continually Increasing or Decreasing; and how then could she expect to be sitted with a Garment, which must always be the same, when her own Body was so changeable, that its Bulk was never two days together the same?  
2. The next Point is, That our Desires and Pleasures be Natural; and this in truth carries great Affinity and Resemblance to the former. For we cannot but observe, that there are Two sorts of Pleasures; Some of which are Natural, and These are Just and Lawful; They have a foundation in our very Temper and Frame, and are imparted, not to Men only, but are exactly the same in Brutus' These Appetites and the Gratifications of them are short, and bounded in a narrow compass; it is an easy matter to see to the End of them. Now with regard to such, no Man is, or can be poor; because all Circumstances and all Places furnish enough to satisfy these Inclinations. For Nature is Regular and Abstemious, a very little contents her; and not only so, but she is very well provided too, and puts into every Man's hand as much as will suffice to support him. Thus Seneca observes, 
* Parabile est quod Natura desiderat & expositum; Ad manum est quod sat est.  That the Sustenance Nature requires, is always ready, and anywhere to be had; and it is very easy to come at enough for the supply of our Necessities; For that which Nature requires for the preservation of its Being is in reality as much as we need; and sure we ought to acknowledge it a particular Happiness, and a special Favour, that Those things which we stand in need of for the support of Life; as they must be had or we perish, so they are easy to be had, and no body need perish for want of them; and that the matter is so contrived, that whatever is hard to be obtained, we can be without it, and suffer no great Prejudice. If we lay aside Fancy and Passion, and follow Nature and Necessity, we are always rich, and always safe; for these will direct us to such pursuits, as all the malice of Fortune cannot defeat. To this sort of Desires, we may add too those others, which regard the Customs of the Age and Place we live in, and the Circumstances and Quality of our Persons and Fortunes. For I can easily allow, that They should be comprehended under this Head too, though it must be confessed, that they do not come up to the same degree of Necessity with the former. If we will speak strictly and consider things according to their utmost rigour, These are neither Natural, nor Necessary; but if they be not absolutely so, yet they follow close in order, and are next to Those that are. They do indeed exceed the bounds of Nature, which hath done her part, when she maintains us in Any Condition; but yet we are not tied to all that Exactness, but are permitted to enlarge our Desires farther; and may, without any breach of Virtue, desire a Competency, in proportion to the Rank Providence hath placed us in. We may, I say, desire and endeavour this fairly and reasonably; but yet with this Reserve, that it is against Justice and Reason both, to murmur and be discontented, if we be disappointed in our Hopes, or deprived of the Possession of it. For These are Additional Advantages, and the Effect of Bounty; all that Nature hath bound herself to, is the Subsistence of our Persons, and we have no Right to depend upon more.  
But we must not omit to observe, that there are (as I hinted before) another sort of Pleasures and Desires which we may truly call Unnatural, because they are quite beside and beyond the Bounds already mentioned. With These Nature hath nothing at all to do; she knows them not; They are of a Bastard Race; Fancy and Opinion give them birth; Art and Industry Cherish and Improve them; They are superfluous and studied Follies; and must not be allowed so mild a Term, as Appetites, but are most truly, and in the worst sense of the word, Passions. I know not well indeed, what Title to distinguish them by; they are so fantastical, that it is not easy to find a Name, for them; but call them if you will, Lustings, Long, Any thing that expresses the Whimsy and Impatience of a wild and wanton Mind. These we have therefore spoken to already, when in the First Book we treated of the Passions at large; all that is necessary to be added here concerning them is only, That the Greatest part of what Men call Desires, are such as These; and that They are the proper source of that Misery and Fretfulness we see Mankind so generally disquieted by; and That a Wise man will think himself concerned to distinguish his Virtue in no one Instance more, than in keeping himself absolutely and entirely clear from any Vanities of this kind.  
3. 
See Book III. Ch. 40.  The Third Qualification requisite upon these Occasions, is, That all our Pleasures and Desires be Moderate; by which I mean, that they should be guilty of no Excess in any respect whatsoever. Now This is a Rule of a very large Extent, and capable of being parceled out into a great many subdivisions, but I think All of them may be reduced to these Two; That neither, first our Neighbour, nor secondly ourselves suffer by them. When I mention other People's Sufferings, I design by it, that we should indulge ourselves in nothing that may any way give any person disquiet, by scandalising him, or ministering just cause of Resentment; nothing that may contribute to his loss or prejudice, by hurting his Person, Estate or Reputation: By Our Own suffering I mean, that we should have all due regard to our Health, our Leisure, our Business, and particularly the Offices of our Calling and Capacity, our Honour, and above all, our Duty. And He that is content with being subject to these Restraints, and takes care not to break in upon any of the forementioned Boundaries, I admit to be such a one, as exercises what I call Moderation in his Pleasures and Desires.  
4. There remains yet a Fourth Direction, which is, a Short Compass, and a constant Regard to ones self. For, besides that our Desires must not be let fly at large, nor our Pleasures run wild without any Check or Control; the very Course and Figures they move in, must be managed and rightly ordered. It is not enough, that a stop be put to their Career; but, if the Reader will permit that Allusion, they must not move in a Right Line, but in a Circle, of which the Person himself is the Centre. My meaning is, They must not run out into Lengths a great distance from us, as Right Lines do; but they must have a constant respect to, keep near, and quickly return again, to the Point from whence they set out at first: For This is to terminate in ourselves; and to make our own Necessities and Enjoyments the Subject and the Measure of them. And what miserable work do They make, who do not govern themselves by this Reflection? How wretched, for want of keeping close, and moving round their proper Centre, are the Slaves to Avarice, and Ambition; and infinite others, who are solicitous for Posterity, and contriving to keep up the Family in long distant Successions, or upon any pretence, as vain as these, run beyond themselves, and are perplexed for things that no way concern them? Such Actions are properly Excentrical and Irregular, Fanciful and Vain; and yet so very frequent withal, that, if all these Unreasonable Projects were reduced, or quite taken away out of our lives, it is incredible, how great a part of Men's Cares and Anxieties would be cut off with them.   

CHAP. VII. Of Decent Deportment, and Evenness of Temper, in Prosperity, and Adversity.  
EVERY Man in this World hath two sorts of Fortune to grapple with; a Good, and an Ill Fortune; or Prosperity and Adversity, as we commonly call it. These are the Rencounters, in which a Man ought to stand upon his Guard; the Trying Seasons, when we are most obliged to have our Wits about us. The two Schools, by whose Discipline we are trained up in Wisdom; the Essays, or Touchstones, which bring Men's Minds to the Test; and discover whether they be Standard or not.  
The Common and Ignorant part of the World have no notion of Trial, except in One of These only; They can by no means imagine, how Prosperity, and kind Fortune should possibly make a Man work, or involve him in any Difficulty or Trouble; they hear no Threatening, and so they fear no Danger. They are so transported, so giddy with their Joy upon these occasions, that they lose all Sense; know not where they are, nor what they do; and so Insolent, that there is no enduring them. And in Affliction again, they are so miserably subdued, so perfectly stunned and confounded, that they have no manner of sense left; but are affected with this Sickness and Feebleness of the Mind, as we generally see men with That of the Body, who are always uneasy and in pain, can bear neither Heat nor Cold, but are restless and dissatisfied in either Extreme.  
But Wise Men have quite different notions of the matter; 
Which the harder.  They observe and acknowledge a Difficulty in Both; and think it an instance of equal weakness, on Which side soever the miscarriage happens. And indeed it is the same Vicious defect, and as egregious a Folly, for a Man not to be able to govern himself in Prosperity, as not to support himself under Adversity. But though all Men of Judgement allow a Difficulty on Either side, yet on which hand the difficulty is Greater, they are not so perfectly agreed. Some are of Opinion, that Adversity is the harder Task of the Two; by reason of its extreme Severity, and that sensible sharpness we feel under the smart of it. So says one Philosopher, 
* Difficilius est Tristitiam sustinere, quam à delectabilibus abstinere.  It is harder to endure, and bear up under Grief, than to deny one's self, and be moderate in Joy; and another, 
† Majus est Difficilia perstringere, quam Laeta moderati.  It is a nobler Victory to get well over Hardships, than to temper Pleasures. Others again rather incline to Prosperity, and think This the nicer and more dangerous State of the Two. They observe very truly, that Good Fortune charms and gets within us by her Smiles and kind Caresses; That there is Treachery at the bottom of all this Fondness; that it unbends and softens the Mind, enervates all its Powers, steals away its generous Qualities, and, as Dalilah dealt by Samson, betrays the strength and vigour of the Soul, and reduces the best and bravest Heroes to the Condition of common Men. And of This we have frequent Instances; Persons who have been firm and inflexible, stood their ground, and born the shock of Adversity with all the Resolution and Gallantry in the World; and yet even These Invincible Sufferers, whom Affliction could not break, Prosperity hath quickly vanquished and melted down. Courtship and Flattery have effected what Threats and Blows never could; and Verified that Saying, That Prosperity is no such easy matter, but This must be Endured too; (how odd soever that expression may sound) and 
† M●●ni ●●●oris est serre prosperitatem.  is really a difficult and laborious thing to be born. As Full Ears load and lay the Corn, so does too much good Fortune bend and break the Mind. It deserves to be considered too, as another Disadvantage, that Affliction moves Pity, and reconciles our very Enemies; but Prosperity provokes Envy, and loses us our very Friends. Again, Adversity is a desolate and abandoned State; the generality of People are like those infamous Animals, that live only upon Plenty and Rapine; and as Rats and Mice forsake a tottering House, so do These the Falling Man. Now This hath sometimes that good effect, that when One perceives himself thus reduced and destitute, and that his own Endeavours are all he hath to trust to; his Courage is awakened, he rouzes and shakes himself, collects and exerts all his Powers, and with wonderful Bravery and Success forces his way through. In Prosperity, quite contrary, Every body is making their Court by Compliments, and Commendations, proffers of Service, and officious Assistances; and This is a Temptation to Negligence and Security, we trust to Others, and neglect ourselves; apprehend no difficulty because we feel none, and promise absolute safety, while we see not our danger; Till at last our false Confidences deceive us, and we are sensible of our Error, when it is too late to retrieve it. Thus much, and a great deal more might be urged on both sides of the Question, which I shall not take upon me to determine on either side; For it may be, that it is not capable of any general and positive Decision, one way or other. And the most probable Resolution we can come to in the case, is in my poor Judgement This; That Both the forementioned Opinions are true as it may happen; and that Prosperity is more difficult to some, and Adversity to others, according to the different Dispositions and Complexions of the Persons concerned in making the Experiment. But if we look at the Thing itself, and the Usefulness of it in general, the Advantage seems to lie on the side of Adversity: For this is the seed and occasion of great Virtues, the Field in which the Bravest Heroes have signalised themselves. For Wounds and Hardships provoke our Courage, and when our Fortunes are at the lowest, our Wits and Minds are commonly at the best.  
Now the Directions which Wisdom gives upon this occasion are, 
Both in common.  To preserve an Evenness of Temper and Behaviour, through the several occurrences of Life, and to meet them all with the same serene composed Countenance. A Wise Man is Master of his Trade, and knows how to manage his Matters so, as to make every Thing turn to Account; Let the Accident be what it wiil, still Virtue shall be the result of it; as the Painter Phidias shown his Skill, in making the same Figure represented, what form or prospect soever you put the Piece into. Thus Events are his Materials, and whatever comes to hand, he will not fail to convert into an occasion of doing good; and how different soever the Aspects of Fortune may be to Him, yet his own face always keeps the same Air. 
* Ad utrosque casus Sapiens aptus est; Bonorum Rector, Malorum Victor. In Secundis non confidit, in Adversis non deficit. Nec avidus periculi, nec fugax; prosperitatem non expectans, ad utrumque paratus, adversus utrumque intrepidus; nec illius tumultu, nec hujus fulgore percussus. Contra calamitates fortis & contumax; Luxuriae non adversus tantum sed & infestus: Hoc praecipuum in humanis rebus erigere Animum supra Minas & Promissa Fortunae. Seneca.  A Wise Man (says Seneca) is provided for occurrences of any kind, the Good he manages, the Bad he vanquishes. In Prosperity he betrays no Presumption, in Adversty he feels no Despondency. He neither rashly courts danger, nor cowardly runs away from it; and for Prosperity, he sets not his heart upon it, but stands well appointed for any thing that happens; He fears no attack in any kind; the hurry and disorder of the one does not confound him, nor the splendour of the other dazzle or transport him. Calamities find him gallant, resolute, and inflexible; Luxury and Ease he is not only no Friend, but an Irreconciable Enemy to. And, in short, this is his greatest Excellence and the Just Commendation and Character of a Good Man, in all the variety of human Chances, to raise the Soul, and get above the Promises and Threats of Fortune. Thus Wisdom equips us for the Fight; She puts proper Weapons into our Hands, teaches us to handle the Arms she gives, and when we are well disciplined, leaves us to engage, as the Laws of Combat, and the present Exigence of Affairs, require. When we are to encounter with Adversity, She provides us a Spur to quicken us, raises and whets our Courage, calls up our Resolution, and hardens our mind against it; and thus She inspires us with the Virtue of Fortitude; When Prosperity engages us, She puts a Bridle into our Hand to curb and contain us, that our Flights may not be too bold, but all regulated by Prudence and Modesty; and thus She qualifies us with the Virtue of Temperance. These are the two great Cardinal Virtues, which enable us to manage the Two Extremes of Fortune, and are a Preparation sure and sufficient, against any kind of Accident, that can possibly befall us. All which the brave Epictetus intimated his sense of, when he summed up the whole System of Moral Philosophy in those two significant, and most comprehensive words, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Bear and Forbear. Applying the former to what the World uses to repute Evil, all manner of Misfortune and Distress; for These things, as Burdens, are to be sustained with Patience and Constancy. The latter, of Forbearing to all those, which in common esteem pass for Good things; the Plenty, and Pleasures, and prosperous Successes of our Lives, all which require Moderation and Restraint. As for any particular Directions, suited to the particular Favours or Unkindnesses of Fortune; The Reader must give me leave to beg his Patience, till the Third part of this Treatise; where I shall have occasion to treat of this Subject more at large, under the Topics of Fortitude and Temperance. At present I shall only lay down some general Rules and Remedies, against Prosperity and Adversity taken in the gross; the design and business of this Second Book being to extend no farther than general Instructions to Wisdom, without entering into respective Cases, which call for the exercise of such Rules; for This you may remember was the Scheme and Method of this whole Undertaking, laid down in my Preface, at our first setting out.  
All the general Instruction, 
Of Prosperity.  which I think necessary in this place, with regard to Prosperity, consists of these Three Considerations. First, That it is a great Mistake, nay, a great Injustice, which those Men are guilty of, who esteem Honours, and Riches, and other Gifts and Advantages of Fortune, Good things; and reckon them among the most substantial Happinesses of Human Life. For with what pretence can they be called Good? They can neither impart nor improve Goodness; they reclaim no Man who lives amiss; nor can they reform one vicious Habit; nor are they peculiar to, or any distinguishing Character of Good Men, but distributed promiscuously, and, at least in equal Proportions, to the Wickedest and worst part of Mankind. And He, that calls them Good in the notion of Happiness, and places his Hopes and his Felicity in them, hath committed his Treasure to a Rotten Cable, and anchored his Vessel upon a Quicksand. For what is there in the whole World, so sloating and unfaithful, as the Possession of such slippery Advantages? They go and come at random, no body knows how nor why; flow in upon us, and Ebb off again like a sudden Tide of Water: Like That, they come on with noise and observation, are violent and fierce in their motions, troubled and foul in themselves; And like That too, they presently disappear, leave us drawn dry of all our overflowing Comforts and Joys, and nothing but Mud, and Stench, and Filth, left behind at low Water.  
The Second part of this Advice, is, To entreat Men, that they would remember, what the Nature of Prosperity is; That nothing better resembles it, than a Poison given in Honey; which, though it be sweet and pleasing upon the , yet is fatal in the operation, and Certain Death at the Stomach; and therefore that Men ought to be constantly upon their Guard against its treacherous Flatteries. When Fortune smiles upon us, and every thing falls out to our hearts desire; then is the season especially for Watchfulness and Fear; then we should be more than ordinarily severe in the Government of our Passions, and draw the Reins tied, because we are apt to grow skittish, and fly out at such times. Then we should be careful, that all our Behaviour be serious and composed, and above all things avoid Presumption and Insolence; which are exceeding apt to grow upon us in the midst of Gaieties and fair Wether. Alas! Prosperity is a very slippery Ground, and all a Man's caution is little enough, to stand fast, and tread sure in it. There is not any Circumstance in the World, in which Men are more disposed to forget God; it is the very critical Season that practices Religion least, and yet needs it most. One tolerable account whereof, among others, may be This; That you very seldom meet with any fortunate Man, who is content to ascribe his Successes to the Blessing and Providence of God; but all Men usually think they own their Advancement to their own Merit, and call themselves the Makers of their own Fortunes. Since then this is so very hazardous a State, a Man ought least to depend upon himself in it, and the greater his Prosperity is, the less still is he fit to be trusted. This is the proper Time of calling in Succours, of making use of our Friends for their Counsel and Assistance, of giving what they advise more than ordinary weight and Authority; and in a manner putting ourselves into their Guardianship and Protection. To be short; a Man upon These occasions should act, as he would, if he were walking in very slippery Ways, or upon some dangerous Precipice; he should take every slep with deliberation and fear, and beg some faithful Guide to lend him his hand. For want of these Precautions it is, that sharper Remedies become sometimes necessary; and even Affliction itself often proves a seasonable and very successful Application, to settle Men's Heads that were grown giddy; and bring them back to the knowledge of themselves again.  
The Third Admonition I would give at present, is, That Men upon these occasions would put a Bar to their Desires, and not suffer them to grow extravagant, and out of all measure. Prosperity naturally swells the Heart, dilates the Spirits, bushes us on to new Undertake, sills us with great Confidence of Success, and will not suffer us to see the Difficulties sufficient to defeat and discourage our Attempt; It makes us more impatiently eager of more and greater Attainments, (somewhat like a very vulgar Proverb, which says, The Eating a good Breakfast gets a Man a keener Stomach to his Dinner); In one word, it exalts, and carries us quite beyond ourselves: And then it is, that by grasping at More, we lose All; plunge into ruin, and make ourselves a Jest and public Scorn; Like the Monkey that skips from Bough to Bough, till he get to the Top of the Tree, and then turns up his Tail to the Company. It is really a very deplorable thing, to rellect how many brave Men have been lost, and come to a miserable End, merely for want of Prudence to govern themselves, and check those aspiring Thoughts, which Prosperity and Greatness pushed them forward with. The most advisble course therefore is to put a stop to these towering Imaginations; to ●●ove gently and warily; to relish our present good Fortune; and not lose the Enjoyment of what we have already, by being perpetually upon the scent, and anxious pursuit of some fresh Advantages. For it is One considerable point of Wisdom, to set up our Staff when we are well; to secure our Ease and Contentment, which can never dwell in that Breast, which is never at rest; but eternally urging its Fortunes on farther, and fixes upon no Period of its Labours; no End where to sit down, and make a final Settlement.  
The general Advice and proper Reflections against Adversity, 
Of Adversity. It is not Evil.  considered in the gross, are such as follow. First of all, A Man should take great care that he be not imposed upon with that general Opinion (among the common sort of People especially) which represents Affliction, as a thing Evil in its own Nature. This is, like most of the vulgar Notions, extremely false and unjust, and the most contrary that can be to sound Reason. They have indeed a strange dread and abhorrence of all manner of Adversity; and therefore, to propagate, as well as justify this Aversion, they render it as odious as is possible, by running it down, and loading it with hard Names; they call Afflictions, Calamities, Disasters, Dreadful Evils; Sore and Intolerable Evils; whereas in truth, none of these Outward Things are either Good or Evil in their own Nature; but of a middle kind, and in a state of perfect Indifferency. Adversity never made any one Man wicked, since the beginning of the World; but hath proved a very successful Instrument for reducing and reforming Persons very far engaged in Wickedness before; and hath in many other respects been the happy occasion of very great Advantages, to the Persons labouring under it: And it is too manifest to need a Proof, that it is by no means the Mark of Vengeance set upon Wicked Men; for the Good have large proportions also; and no Man can distinguish Virtue and Vice by Events; but all things in this present Condition of Mortality are ordered by a promisevous Providence, and happen to all Men alike.  
But though these severe Crosses and melancholy Accidents are scattered in Common, and all smart under the same Rod; yet all do not make the same use of them: The Events agree, but in the Consequences and Effects there is a mighty difference. In the Ignorant and Foolish, the Reprobate and Obdurate, their only Operation is, the Driving them to Despair; perplexing them with Trouble, and transporting them with Rage: The Extremity of their Sufferings does indeed sometimes bend them, whether they will or no; forces them to strike Sail, and humble themselves; extorts some Prayers and Complaints to the God that smites them; but if they look up and cry to Heaven, this is all; the Effects of it are of no continuance, nor does all their Affliction make them one whit the better Men. To Unthinking and Careless Transgressor's they are so many lively and sensible Instructions, which by the sharpness of the Pain drive them to Recollection, and a Second Thought; and in a manner source from them Acknowledgements of God and their Duty. To Men of sleady Virtue, they are Trials and Exercise to keep them in breath, and render their Excellencies more conspicuous and exemplary; to recommend and endear them the more to Almighty God, and exalt them to nearer degrees of Affinity and Resemblance to his own Divine Perfections. To Persons of Wisdom and Conduct, they are, as Materials in the Hand of a Skilful Artist, who will be sure to make somewhat Good out of them; they are, as it were, Stairs, by which such Persons ascend to the highest Elevations of Honour and Greatness: Instances whereof History furnishes in Abundance; Persons under most prodigious and unexpected Crosses, such, as when they happened, threatened no less than irrecoverable Misery and Ruin; and yet by a strange Turn, to these very Misfortunes have owed all their future Happiness and Advancement; and had, but for these Accidents, stuck in the Dirt, never come to be significant in the World; but lived, and died, and been buried in Obscurity and Contempt. This Observation was made good to that Athenian Commander, who cried out upon a like occasion, He had been undone, if we had not been undone. (Ferura●●us 〈◊〉 periissemus.) How full and noble an Instance of this Nature is that Relation of ●osepl, which Moses gives us? The Envy and Spite of his Brethren, the being sold as a Slave to Strangers, and imprisoned upon a false Accusation, were so many Steps to the Throne of Pharaoh, and the Administration of one of the greatest Kingdoms in the World. It must be confessed indeed, These are very extraordinary Events, and can be ascribed to nothing less than a strange overruling Providence; but shil Men are not without their part in it. For Human Prudence is the proper Instrument, which Providence makes use of for the finishing these works of Wonder; and upon this account that excellent Advice of Wise Men ought to be studied by every one in these Circumstances, which is, To make a Vir●● of 〈◊〉) ●or indeed, it is a Noble Instance of good Management, and the boldest and most beautiful Stroke of Prudence, when a Man can thus far imitate God, as to bring Good out of Evil; when he can give a Turn to his Affairs, and get the Weathergage of Fortune, with such Dexterity and Address, That even Ill Accidents themselves ●●all turn to account, and, whatever happens to him, he will order matters so, that his Condition shall be the better for it.  
All manner of Adversity and Afflictions may be truly ascribed to one or more of the Three following Causes; for they indeed are the Authors, 
It proceeds from there Causes.  and the Finishers of all our Sufferings. The first Inventor and Original of them is Sin; this gave them a Being, and without it they had never existed, nor had any place in Nature at all. The Second is the Anger and Justice of God, who being provoked by Sin, issues out his Commissions, and employs these, as the Ministers and Instruments of Vengeance, to execute Wrath upon them that do evil. The Third is, the Polity of the World, as it stands at present; its Order disturbed, its Administration corrupted, and its whole Frame vitiated and Changed by Sin. The State of Nature, by these lamentable Alterations, is like That of a Kingdom under a general Mutiny or Civil Insurrection; where Every thing is out of its proper place, and no part does its Duty; and what can possibly be the Consequence of This, but Calamity and Confusion? The Miseries of such a Body Politic, are like the Pains, and Aches, which afflict the Natural Body; when its Limbs are disjointed; the Bones bruised or dislocated; and all the Ligaments, that should knit and keep these in their Duty and proper Station, loosed or cut asunder. These three Causes therefore producing such dismal Effects, our Resentments toward Them should be proportioned to the Injuries they do Us. The First is the detestable Root of all our Unhappiness, and This we should hate and avoid. The Second is the terrible Judgement of a just and provoked Deity, and This we ought to live in an awful Dread of. The Third betrays us into Mischief, and This we ought to beware of as an Impostor, and manage ourselves as would become considerate Men, to That which they know will decoy them into Ruin. But with regard to the Afflictions arising from all Three, the best course of securing ourselves, will be to subdue and kill them, as David did Goliath, with his Own Sword; that is, as I said before, to convert this Necessity into Virtue, to make Advantage of our Afflictions, and retort the very Sufferings they bring upon us, back again upon heir own heads. For Affliction, which is in truth the  Fruit of Sin, if well, and wisely entertained, will choke and kill the bitter Root that bears it. It deals with its Author and Parent, as the Young Viper is said to do with the Old One, that hatches it; and is like Oil of Scorpions, the Sovereign Remedy for All that are stung by them: Thus Sin is made its own Destruction; and does not only breed the Disease, but provide the Cure. 
* Patimur quina peccavimus, patimur ut non peccemus.  We suffer because we have sin, 'tis true; but it is as true too, that We suffer, that we may not sin any more. The Roughness of Adversity is like that of a File, it scours off the Rust We had contracted, cleanses and purifies the Soul from Vice and Filth, and brightens the Mind and its Virtues. By this means the Anger of God consequently is appeased, the Provocation removed, we released from the Prisons and Fetters, which Gild and Justice had bound us in; and brought out into the free and open Air, the glorious and cherishing Light of his Countenance lifted up upon us. The Storms are quieted, the Thunder laid aside, and Grace and Mercy, and a clear Sky succeeds And, then as a farther Antidote against the Third Source of our Misfortune, Adversity weans our Affections, and calls them off from the World; begets in us a dislike and dissatisfaction to a State of so much Misery; and the Bitterness of our Calamities suppies the place of Wormwood, which Providence, like a wise Nurse, puts upon the Breast, to make us loathe the Milk; and be content to part with the luscious Delights of that deceitful Life, of which we should otherwise be most immoderately fond.  
Now One great, and in reality the most effectual Expedient to qualify a Man for this Prudent Behaviour in Adversity, and all the valuable Fruits of it, is for a Man to be strictly Virtuous and Good. For a Man of Virtue is more easy, and hath a more agreeable Enjoyment of himself in Adversity, than a Vicious Man hath in all the Sweets of Prosperity. As Men in Feverish Distempers feel more Uneasiness from their Cold and Hot Fits, than those in perfect Health from the most scorching Heat of Summer, or the greatest Severity of Winter-Blasts. Thus it is with Ill Men. They carry their Disease within, and about with them; their Conscience is feverish and disordered, and this gives them infinitely greater Pain, than any that Good Men are sensible of. For these Persons are sound within; and nothing from without can hurt them: That which arms Affliction, and gives it a deadly force, is the Gild and Reproach, the Misgiving and Distrust of one's own Mind; the Sense of having drawn what we labour under, down upon our own heads, and the Amazing Expectation of more and worse: But where These do not put an Edge upon the Weapon, it cannot wound very deep; and how fierce soever the Assaults may be, yet He will suffer but little by them, who feels all easy in his own Breast; and hath the best Defensive Armour in the World to oppose against them, a Good Courage, because a Clear Conscience.  
Adversity is of two kinds; Either That, which truly and in its own nature is such; 
More particular Advice.  what we cannot continue Men, and not be moved with; such as Sickness, and Pain, and the Loss of those things which are very dear to us; or else That, which is not really such, but falsely represented to be so, and owes its being reputed such, either to some general Opinion, and Vulgar Error, or else to the private Interpretation, and Sense of particular Persons. When This is the Case, a Man hath both his Mind and Body at his own disposal, just as before any such Afflictions happened: And therefore in such Notional Calamities, all that need or can be said, is this; That what you make such doleful Complaints of, hath nothing painful, or troublesome in it; but all this is of your own creating, who put on an unnecessary Melancholy, resent things tenderly, cry out when you are not hurt, and fancy Misery, where there is really none.  
As for those, which are Real and Natural, the most Obvious, 
Real Afflictions Remedies against them.  and Popular, and Sound Advice is in this Case the most Natural and most Equitable; and therefore without proposing nice, and studied, and uncommon Arguments, I shall content myself with these few following Reflections. First, A Man will do well to remember, that nothing of this kind which he endures, is contrary to the Law of Nature, and the Condition of Manking; Since Man is born to Sorrow, as the Sparks fly upward; that is; All such things as these, are very ordinary and usual; and from his Birth entailed and annexed, as Encumbrances upon this State of Mortality, into which he is admitted. Therefore upon every Accident that uses to afflict us, we ought constantly to consider Two things; The Nature of what happens to us; and our own Nature; and when once we come to regard things as they really are, and to behave ourselves accordingly, we shall then deliver ourselves from any Vexation and Disquiet, that can arise from them. Vexation and Fretfulness are a Disease of the Soul; a Distemper unnatural in itself, and what ought by no means to be allowed by us. For Nature hath been so bountiful, and so very provident for our Ease, that there is not any Accident possible to come upon us, which She hath not already furnished us with a Faculty to bear, and manage, and convert to our Good; and rendered capable of such Arguments and Considerations, as may very reasonably prevail with us to be contented under it. There is no one Condition of Life so destitute and deplorable, but it hath some Interval of Refreshment; some Solace, some mitigating Circumstance to soften it. There is no Confinement so close, no Dungeon so dark, but some Light will spring in; some Comfort may be found to cheer the Prisoner, and drive the Sorrow from his heart. Ionas, we see, found Leisure for Devotion even in he Whale's Belly, and from thence poured out a Prayer, which God graciously accepted and answered. And sure This is a Privilege of considerable Value; and a great kindness in Nature, that she supplies us with Lenitives, and contrives whies for the qualifying and assuaging of our Pains, even in the instant of our labouring under them. This ought no more to be forgotten for ou Consolation and Support, than that other Reflection, That our Condition necessarily exposes us to Suffering, and we were born liable to all kinds of Misery. For 
* Omnia ad quae gemimus, ad quae exp●vescimus, Tributa vi●ae sunt.  all those Grievances, which we either groan under, or tremble with apprehensions of their Approach, are but so many Taxes, or Rent-Charges upon Life.  
Secondly, It may be of great Advantage to consider, that, notwithstanding none of us are, or can be absolutely exempt from the Power and Jurisdiction of Fortune; yet we are far from being entirely under it, and That by much the least part of us is subject to it: The Principal and most valuable is still in our own hands; no Attempts from without can subdue or wrest it from us; nothing can lose it, but our own Consent and Voluntary Surrender. 'Tis confessed, Fortune can reduce us to Poverty, waste us with Sickness, harass us with Afflictions; but it cannot debauch our Manners, nor enfeeble our Spirits, nor make us submit to base, and unmanly, immoral and dishonourable Actions. And how happy is it that we are thus far out of her reach? how incomparably better, that she should tyrannize over our Riches, or Successes, or even Health itself, than that she should deprive us of our Probity, our Courage, and our Virtue? Let us support and please ourselves with this Reserve; for, while we hold our Own, nothing can render us truly miserable.  
In the next place, I must beg of Men, that they will be Honest, and act according to the Rules of Reason and Justice. For the very truth is, Men are frequently very injurious to Providence, and complain without any Just cause. For, if at any time a cross Accident befall us, shall we sit down under it, full of Murmur and discontented Thoughts? No sure; let us rather recollect, how much oftener things have succeeded as we would wish; and then compute, and compare these, and balance one with the other. And I make no doubt to affirm, If this Reckoning were fairly and impartially stated, but the most Melancholy, most Unfortunate Man alive, might see greater reason to commend, and be thankful for the Good, the Successful Passages of his Life, than to repine at any Losses and Disappointments he may have sustained in it. 'Tis a Reflection full of Eternal Equity, Shall we receive Good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive Evil? But it is enough to silence all our Grumble, and put all Complainers to the blush, when improved with this Small, but most True Addition; Shall we receive Good more and oftener, and shall we not be content to receive the Evil, which is but little and seldom? Nature hath taught us to shut, or turn away our Eyes from all such Objects as are shocking or offensive to us; to remove them from such Colours, as hurt and strain the Sight, and to six upon others more gay and agreeable: There is the same Reason here, and Prudence and Duty both oblige us, to call off our Thoughts from melancholy subjects, and to divert them with others more pleasant and entertaining. But we seem to be of quite different Dispositions; to feed upon the Worst, and indulge ourselves in Peevishness and Spite. We are like Cupping-glasses, that draw only the foul and corrupt Blood, and let all the good alone; like Misers, that put off their best Wine, and keep the worst for their own drinking; like froward Children who if you take one of their Play-things from them, throw all the rest into the sire, for very Rage and Vexation. Thus upon every little Mischance, we tease and torment ourselves, and for the loss of a Trisle, cease to enjoy; nay, perfectly forget, and overlook all that we have still left. Nay, some there are, such unthankful, such ungodly, such unreasonable Creatures, that you shall hear them call themselves Unfortunate in every thing, and well you they never knew what Happiness or Success was; insomuch that with these Wretches one Ounce of Adversity gives more Plain, and provokes more Complaints, than Ten Thousand times as much Prosperity excites Gratitude or sensible Satisfaction.  
Another good Expedient in these Circumstances, would be to look abroad into the World a little, and there observe the infinite multitudes of Men whose Condition is more grievous, more lamentable than our Own; to think seriously and compare ourselves with the many Thousands who envy what we repine at, and would think themselves very happy, to exchange, and he in our case. 

* 
Cum 〈◊〉 displiceat r●rum fortuna tu●rum,  
Alterius specta, quo sit discrimine pejor.   When thou art bending under Fortune's frown,  
Observe the Ills, that press thy Neighbour down,  
And from his heavier load learn to sustain thy own.   
These querulous People would do well to consider, and, if they please, to practise that Saying of a Wise Man; That if the Calamities of all Mankind should be brought together, and laid in one common Heap, and afterwards an equal division be made out of all these, to every Man in particular; The generality of People would find themselves bid to their loss; and the disadvantages of such a Distribution as This, would effectually discover the Injustice of their present Melancholy and Resentment; when They complain of hard usage, who have less of Misfortune, than comes to their Share, upon a strict and impartial Dividend.  
After all these Admonitions, we may say with great Truth, That there are Two very powerful Remedies yet behind; and such as are of wondrous force and success against all manner of Sufferings and Calamities. Tho indeed these Two do both amount to One and the same, and differ chief according to the Difference of the Persons that apply them: viz. Custom and Practice for the gross, and ignorant, and vulgar Capacities; and Meditation for the wise and considerate. Both of them obtain their intended effect by the help of Time, which is indeed the best Restorative, the surest and most common healer of all our inward Wounds. Only it is not applied by all alike; for the Wise are beforehand, and prevent their Miseries by Premeditation; the weaker Vulgar have a more expensive and painful Cure; and that which in the Others is Foresight, is in These Experience. That Custom produces wonderful Effects, we see most manifestly, and every day proves it by Ten thousand Instances; insomuch that what at first appeared to be insuperable, and insupportable, grows in process of time very tolerable and easy. Your Galleyslaves, when first put on board wring their Hands; and Sighs, and Tears, and Groans, are all their Music; but their Chains grow softer by degrees, and by that time they have plied the Oar one quarter of a Year, who more cheerful and merry than They? Men that have never used the Sea, tremble with fear, when they weigh Anchor, even in the calmest Wether; and yet the Mariners will laugh and sing in a Storm. The young Widow is inconsolable upon the loss of her Husband, and thinks of nothing but Sorrow and Despair for the remainder of her Days; but a very few Months assuage this violent Passion and the Concern wears off so fast, that before the year of Mourning comes about, 'tis odds but you find her in the Arms of a Second Bridegroom. Thus Time and Practice overcome all things; and the greatest grievance in most of our Disasters, is that they are new, and uncouth; but all That abates of itself, and a little conversation and better acquaintance reconciles us very well to them.  
Now Meditation and provident Thought hath the very same efficacy with Wise Men, 
Foresight.  that Sense and Smart have upon Weaker. For by representing matters frequently to themselves, the Images are so lively, and the Impressions so strong, that the very Realities themselves could scarce affect them more. Thus the Things that are not, are rendered as common and familiar, as though theywere. 
* Qu●● alij diu pationdo levin saciunt, sapiens levia facit diu cogitando.  What the Vulgar make light and easy by long-Suffering, the Wise Man softens to himself by long Thinking. Let us then sit down, and take an exact Account of our Fortunes: Let us consider the Nature of all those Accidents which are capable of giving us any Disquiet; and let us reflect with ourselves the worst, most dismal, most insupportable, that can possibly befall us; Whether it be Sickness or Poverty, Flight or Banishment, Injuries and Affronts, Disgrace or Reproach; and examine in all this whole Black Catalogue, what there is consistent with Native, and what contrary to it. Foresight is therefore an Admirable Preservative against all manner of Misfortunes, because by this Attention of Mind we have form the whole thing in our Imaginations before, and so they cannot make any mighty alteration in us, when they come in good earnest. And this is so considerable a Point gained, that you rarely find any great harm done by Calamities, except upon the Parties who suffer themselves to be surprised by them. Meditation and Reasoning is the very Temper of the Soul; this steels and hardens it, fortifies it against Assaults, and renders it impenetrable against all that can attempt to wound or break it. Let the Accident be never so grievous, yet the Man that stands upon his Guard, and puts himself in a posture to receive it, suffers but little by it. 
† Praemeditati m●li wollis ic●u venit. Quicquid expectatum es●●diu, leviu accedit.  When a Calamity is foreseen, the blow is broken; and whatever was long expected, is less felt when it come, says Seneca.  
Now the Method of attaining to this wise and profitable Foresight, is first to convince ourselves, and be very duly sensible how craggy and rough a Standing Nature hath placed us in; That Nothing is stable in this World, but We and All about us totter, and are in perpetual danger of falling; That whatever hath happened to Another Man, might every jot as well happen to Us; and the Fate, which hangs over Every Head, may fall down, and crush Any; and in all our Designs and Undertake, carefully to form to ourselves the Disappointments, and Inconveniences, to which they are any way liable; that so, if any of These, shall afterwards fall to our Lot, we may not be confounded, as if some strange thing had happened to us. Alas! how infinitely do we cheat and fool ourselves, by proposing only the fair and inviting Side, and turning all the discouraging Circumstances out of sight? How miserably do we betray our want of Judgement, by never considering, that our Neighbours Misfortunes to day, may be Ours before to morrow; that we are by no means exempt, and out of reach. But how foolishly do They argue, who prefer a blind Fool-hardiness before it, and pretend that a Computation of probable Accidents would discourage and put a stop to all Action? As if a Man might not be prudent without Despondency, nor distrust Fortune without Irresolution, and Cowardice, and Panic Fear. Whereas, if we would represent Things to ourselves, according as they really are, and as Reason directs; we should be so far from Surprise at Crosses and Disappointments, that it would rather appear matter of Wonder and Astonishment, that so very few befall us, in comparison of what we had ground enough to expect; and when so many Accidents are always dogging us close at the Heels, that they should be so long before they overtake us; and when they have us in their Clutches, and we lie at their Mercy, that they should not treat us more ruggedly, than the Generality of them do. For He, that sees another Person's Ill Fortune, and regards it as a thing so usual and common, that his own turn may very probably be next, This Man is armed against it, and hath vanquished his Foe, before he makes his Approaches. Nothing in these Cases should be left unconsidered, and it is very advisable to reckon upon the worst; thus Events will mend upon us, and a great part of what comes, will be clear Gains. But it is foolish to sink under a Misfortune, and think to excuse one's Weakness, by alleging, We never imagined Matters would be so bad. It is a very common Saying, That when a Man is surprised, he is half beaten; and then by the Rule of Contraries, a Man forearmed is worth Two others. A wise Prince will make Preparations for War in the Times of profoundest Peace; a skilful Sailor, lays in fresh Tackle, and all manner of Provisions for the weathering a Storm, and refitting after it, before ever he sets sail out of Port; For when the Mischief is actually upon us, 'tis too late to provide against it. Besides, There is this farther Advantage attends a Premeditation, that let a thing be never so difficult in itself, every Man finds himself dextrous to a wonder, in Matters that he hath been a great while prepared for; Presence of Mind, Prudence in Choice, and Boldness in Execution, give infinite Advantage in such Cases, and almost insure the Success. Whereas on the other hand, there eye nothing so obvious and easy in its own Nature, but Men are confounded and at a loss, if they be utterly unacquainted with it. 
* Id videndum ne quid inopinatum sit nobis, qui● omnia novitate graviora sunt.  This therefore should be our constant Care, That nothing happen unlooked for; because the being new and strange to us, is really a very great Aggravation of any Accident whatsoever. Thus much I easily persuade myself, that were we in any tolerable degree so provident as we might and ought to be, all that Amazement and Perplexity would be saved, which we so commonly see in the World. For what is it that confounds Thee, Man? You expected the thing, and it is come upon you; Astonishment is not the effect of having our Expectations answered, but the direct contrary. Let us therefore order our Affairs so considerately, that it may never be in the Power of Fortune to surprise us; let us stand upon our Guard, discover things at a distance, and observe how they make their Approaches toward us. 
* 
Animus adversus omnia firmandus, ut dicere possimus,  
— Non ulla laborum  
O Virgo, nova mî facies, inopinave surgit.  
Omna praecepi, atque animo mecum ipse peregi.  
Tu hodie ista denuncias; ego semper denuntiavi. Hominem paravi ad Humana.   The Mind should be fortified against all that can possibly happen; that we may be able to say with that Hero in the Poet; 
— No Terror to my View,  
No frightful Face of Danger can be new.  
Inur'd to suffer, and resolved to dare, [Mr. Dryden.  
The worst that Fate can do, hath been my early Care.   
You foretell these things now, I have told them to myself long ago; I have allalong contemplated them; for I considered I was a Man, and made provision against all that could possibly befall me as such.   

CHAP. VIII. Obedience to the Laws, Compliance with the Customs, and Observance of the Ceremonies in use. How, and in what sense necessary.  
WHAT a Man is in comparison of a Beast, the same is a size Man in comparison of a Fool; and as the Qualities, so likewise the Methods of ordering and managing Them resemble one another. The Wild Beasts, and such as live by Prey, will not suffer themselves to be taken, nor willingly submit to the Discipline and Government of Man; they either flee from his Presence, and hid themselves in Dens and Coverts, or grow enraged, and make at him, if he offer to come near them; So that a Mixture of Arms and Artifice, of Fraud and Force, is necessary to tame and make them tractable: Just thus is Folly restive against Reason; deaf and inflexible to Wisdom; it runs wild, grows peevish, and angry; and more extravagantly foolish, when mild Instructions, gentle Reproofs, and cool Arguments endeavour to reclaim it; so that Means more forcible are necessary; it must be managed and subdued, taken short, and kept in Awe, and affrighted into Obedience, that by these terrifying and compulsive Methods, it may at last be brought to hand, and submit to Discipline and Instruction. Now he proper course of effecting this Reformation, is by some over-bearing Authority, some Power, whose Severity may be perpetually thundering in its Ears, and whose amazing Splendour may be ever flashing in its Eyes, and, like some God in Human Shape, command Submission and Compliance. For, as is well observed, 
* Sola Authoritas est, quae cogit stultos, ut ad sapientiam festinent.  Nothing but Authority can prevail with Fools, to make any tolerable Advances toward Wisdom. The Efficacy of this is very often seen in the sudden composing of Mutinies, and Management of the Rabble; kby the Address and Credit of some one Person of Reputation and Eminence; and proves, that the People are to be led by the Persuasion of Others, much better, than guided by their Own Judgement: A very lively and beautiful Description whereof Virgil presents us with, in that Similitude; 

† 
— Veluti magno in populo, cùm saepe coorta est  
Seditio, saevitque animis ignobile vulgus.  
Jamque Faces & Saxa volant, Furor Arma ministrat.  
Tum Pietate gravem ac Mento si forte Virum quem  
Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus astant,  
Ille regit dictis animos & pectora mulcet.  AEneid. Lib. 1.  As when in Tumults rise th' Ignoble Crowd,  
Swift are their Motions, and their Tongues are loud:  
And Stones and Brands in rattling Volleys fly,  
And all the Rustic Arms that Fury can supply;  
If then some Grave and Pious Man appear,  
They hush their Noise, and lend a listening Ear;  
He soothes with sober Words their angry Mood,  
And quenches their innate Desire of Blood.  Mr. Dryden.  
The greatest thing this World can show is Authority. This is the Image of the Divine Power, a Messenger and Deputy from Heaven. If this Deputation (as to Men) be Sovereign, and immediately under God, we call it Majesty; if it be subordinate to any Human Power, we then call it (in a more peculiar and restrained Sense of the word) Authority. And this is supported upon two Bases; Admiration and Fear; both which must go together, and jointly contribute to the keeping it up. Now this Majesty and Authority is principally and properly in the Person of the Supreme Governor, the Prince, and Lawgiver, and in him it lives, and moves, and acts, in its utmost Vigour. The next Degree of it, is, when lodged in his Commands. Orders, and Decrees, that is, in the Law, which is a Prince's Masterpiece, and the Noblest Copy of that Incommunicable Majesty, whereof himself is the Original; And by this Law it is, that Fools are reduced from Evil, informed in Good, governed and led to know and do, what is convenient for their own, and necessary for the Public Interest. Thus you see in short, of what Weight and Efficacy Authority and Laws are to the World; how necessary, and how beneficial to the present Circumstances, and the greatest part of Mankind.  
This Authority is stated, fixed, and agreed upon; but there is Another, 
Custom.  which comes nearest of any up to it, commonly called Custom; a very Powerful, but withal a very Positive and Imperious Mistress. This Power is all gained by Encroachment and Usurpation, by Treachery and Force; it get footing by Inches, and steals in upon the World insensibly. The Beginnings of it are small and imperceptible; gentle and humble; and frequently owing to Men's Tameness or Neglect; their Laziness, and Yielding; the Influenc of Example, and the Blindness of Inconsideration; but when it hath once taken Root, and is fixed by Time, it puts on a stern domineering Look, issues out its Orders, plays the Tyrant, and will be observed; It is to no purpose then to argue for Liberty and Right; no Man is suffered to speak, to move, to look, in contradiction to such an Establishment. It stops your Mouth with Possession and Precedent; which indeed are its proper and only Pleas of Title, grows great and more eminent, the farther it goes; and, like Rivers, enlarges its Name and Channel by rolling; insomuch, that even, when the Mischiefs and Inconvenience of its still prevailing are manifest, yet is it not safe to reduce it to its first Infant-State; and Men are oftentimes better advised in suffering under it, than in attempting to disuse, or reverse it.  
If now we compare these Two together; it will be found, 
Law and Custom compared.  that Law and Custom establish their Authority by very different Methods. Custom creeps upon us by little and little, by length of Time, by gentle and acceptable Means, by the Favour and general Consent, or at least with the Approbation of the Majority; and its Beginning, Growth, Establishment, are all from the People. The Law, admits none of these flow Proceed; it is Born at once, and in full Perfection; comes to Vigour and Maturity in a Moment; it marches out with Authority and Power, and receives its Efficacy from the Supreme Commander; it depends not always upon the good liking of the Subjects, but is frequently full sore against their Wills; and yet prevails, and takes place, though burdensome and ungrateful to them. This last Consideration is the Reason, why Some have compared Law to a Tyrant, and Custom to a King. Again, Custom, though otherwise never so engaging, yet never proposes Rewards or Penalties; But the Law propounds both, and to be sure threatens Penalties upon the Disobedient at least. Yet, notwithstanding these Differences, the matter is so ordered, that these Two are frequently capable, either of strengthening, and mutually assisting, or of destroying and overthrowing each other. For Cudestroying and overthrowing each other. For Custom, though in strictness it be only upon Sufferance, yet when countenanced and publicly allowed by the Prince, will be still more firm and secure; and the Law likewise gets ground upon the People, and stands the faster by means of Possession, and long Usage. On the Contrary; Custom will be quashed by a Law prohibiting the Continuance of it; and a Law will go down the stream, and be lost to all the purposes and effects of it, if a contrary Custom be connived at. Thus, I say, they may interfere to the Prejudice of each other; but usually they go hand in hand, and are in reality almost the same thing, considered under different respects; The wiser and more discerning Men considering That as a Law, which the Ignorant and Vulgar, who have little Notions of a Legislative Power, or its Sanctions, observe purely as a thing Customary, and because it hath been in use, without attending how it came to be so.  
The strange Variety of Laws and Customs, which have obtained in the World, 
Different and odd Customs.  and the Extravagance of some of them, is really prodigious. It is scarce possible to think of any Imagination so whimsical and odd, but some Country or other hath received it as a Custom, or established it by a Law. I will give myself the trouble of instancing in several upon this occasion, to convince Those, who perhaps cannot easily suffer themselves to be persuaded, how much Truth there is in this Observation. And here, not to instance in Religion, which in the Idolatrous and less civilised Countries especially, hath had grosser Deceits, more abominable Absurdities, and more amazing Variety of these, than any other Subject whatsoever; yet, because it does not fall so directly within the Compass of our present Argument, I shall pass it over at present; and confine myself to the Head of Civil Commerce; in which alone Customs, properly so called, are used to take place; and where the Matter being exceeding obvious to every Understanding, it is so much the more astonishing, that Men should be carried into such Extravagances. Now Those, which I think most remarkable, and sit to be mentioned, are such as follow. The Reputing it an Instance of Affection and Duty when Parents live to a certain term of Years, for their Children to Kill, and to Eat them; In Inns and other Public Houses of Accommodation, instead of discharging the Reckoning with Money, to lend their Wives and Daughters to the Host for Payment; The having Wives in common; The setting up Public Stews for Young Men; The esteeming it honurable, for Women to be Common, and wearing Tufts of Fringe at their Garments by way of Boast and Glory, to signify the Number of their Gallants; The suffering Single Women to abandon themselves to all manner of Filthiness, and publicly to procure Abortions when with Child; but of all Married Women requiring the strictest Chastity, and Fidelity to their Husband's imaginable; The Marrying of Men to one another; The Women going to War, and engaging in Battle along with their Husbands; Wives dying, and laying violent hands upon themselves, either at the instant, or very quickly after the Death of their Husbands; The allowing Widows a Liberty of Marrying again, provided their former Husbands died by a Violent death; but if otherwise, then debarring them of that Privilege. Investing Husbands with an Absolute, Unlimited,  Power over their Wives; to Divorce them at Pleasure, without being obliged to show Cause; to sell them off, if they bring no Children; to Kill them without any manner of Provocation, merely by virtue of this Despotic Power, and the Relation the Wife stands in to him, and to borrow afterwards from other People; Women to Bear Children without any manner of Terror, or Complaint; Killing their Childen, because they are not Handsome, not Beautiful in Complexion; not well-Featured, Crooked, or ill Shaped, or without assigning any Reason at all; The Feeding altogether upon Man's Flesh; The Eating Flesh and Fish quite Raw; the Lodging Persons of all Ages and Sexes indifferently, to the Number of Ten or Twelve together; Making the putting their Finger down to the Ground, and afterwards pointing with it up to Heaven, the common Form of Salutation; Turning their Back upon the Person they Address, and make a Civility to; and taking it for a constant Rule, never to look at the Person, to whom you design Honour and Respect; Observing it as a Mark of Duty to gather up the Spittle of Princes in their Hands; Never speaking to the King, but through a long Trunk; Never cutting the Hair or Nails during their whole Lives; To Shave the Hair on One side, and Pair the Nails of One Hand, but never to do it of the Other; The Boring Holes in the Cheeks, and other parts sof the Face, to wear Pendants, and Jewels at, and the same at the Breasts and Nipples; Absolutely to despise Death; to welcome it with Feasting and Joy; to contend and quarrel for it; nay, to plead and sue for it in public, as if it were some remarkable Dignity, or extraordinary Favour; and to look upon the granting these Suits, and being preferred before other Competitors in them, as a singular Honour; The Esteeming it the most Honourable way of disposing their dead Bodies, and much more glorious than any Burials, to be Eaten up of Dods, and Fowls of the Air, and to be Boiled or Baked, Dried and Pounded to Powder, and that Dust mingled with Men's ordinary Drink.  
Now, whatever Diversion the relating such Customs as these, 
Customs Examined and Judged.  or whatever wonder it may create, yet if we come a little closer to the matter, and once undertake to pass a Judgement upon them, all than is noise and scuffle, eager and endless quarrel. The Common People are so overrun with Prepossession and Pedantic Folly, that They, according to their usual Wisdom, run all down at a venture; and without more ado, condemn every thing for Barbarous and Brutish, which is not just according to their own Palate, that is, which does not agree with the received Practice and Customs of their own Country. For they, never looking Abroad, nor understanding what is done there, can see no manner of Reason, why their own Local Usages at Home, should not be the only, and unalterable Standard of Truth, and Justice, and Decency, all the World over. If you endeavour to infuse some larger Notions of These Matters, by telling them, That Other People of their Capacity are even with them; That they are every jot as much out of conceit with Our Methods, as we can be with Theirs; they cut you short immediately, by replying, You may see by that how Barbarous and Brutish they are; which is but saying the same thing over again; and here they resolve to stick. But now a Wise Man is more reserved, and allows a greater Latitude; he gives them a fair hearing at least, and does not determine hastily, for fear of too much warmth, and wronging his Judgement; and he is certainly in the right; for there are really a great many Laws and Usages, which, at first sight, appear insufferably Barbarous, contrary to all the Notions of Humanity and sound Reason, and yet if they were soberly considered, (all Passion and Prejudice apart) if they did not so far approve themselves to our Judgement, as to be allowed Just and Good, yet it would be found that they are not destitute of all Colour of Reason; but have a great deal to be said in their Vindication; and Arguments plausible enough to excuse Other Men's Practice, thoughnot enough to recommend them to our Own.  
Let us now, for instance, make the Experiment in those Two first mentioned, which, I must confess, seem extremely odd, and the most distant that can be, from all the Apprehensions we commonly entertain of the Duty and Affection we own to Those who brought us into the World, and were at the Trouble and Expense of our Sustenance and Education. These Customs than are the Killing one's Parents, when they come into such particular Circumstances; and Eating their dead Bodies. The People who receive this Custom, look upon it as the highest Testimony of Piety and Respect; the last and fullest Proof of their Tenderness and sincere Affection. The great design they have in it is Compassion to their old decrepit Parents, whom they think themselves under the strictest Obligations to deliver from a state of Misery and Infirmity; a State, that renders them, not only utterly Useless to Themselves and to every Body else, but even a Trouble and a Burden; a State of Languishing and Decay, of Uneasiness and Pain; that makes Life a Weariness and a Torment to themselves and all about them; and therefore they think That Death which gives them Ease and Rest, and puts them past Suffering any more, a very profitable Exchange, a Gain, which they might be glad to choose, and thankful for receiving. When they have done them this Kindness, (as they esteem it) the next Proof of their Dutiful Regard, is to give them the most honourable Burial in their power: And for this purpose they make their own Bodies their Repository; lodging these Carcases and precious Relics in their own Bowels; thus in some measure conveying a new Life, and recruiting their perished Nature, by Digesting, and turning to Nourishment this dead Flesh of their Parents, and Transubstantiating it into their own living Flesh. These Reasons are not so very Contemptible; at least, I am apt to believe, they may somewhat abate that Detestation, which the prejudice of a contrary Opinion is apt to produce in the generality of People. A Man that considers impartially, will, I believe, allow, That the Persons who have been brought up to this Custom, may think it so plausible a one, that it will not be easy to bring them off from it; Nay, that it may appear in the Eyes of these Persons, a horrible Cruelty, and Abomination, to see their Aged Parents lie Languishing before their Eyes, in the midst of Sickness and Pain, and Faint Struggle for the wretched Remnants of Life; without any kind Hand to do the good Office of setting them at Rest. And when Declining Nature hath finished its own Course, it is no hard matter to imagine, that These People should with Reluctancy and Horror Inter these Spoils of Those, who gave them Being; that they might think it a Neglect and a Reproach to cast those Remains they so dearly Love into a Hole, to Rot in the Earth, to Corrupt and become Food for Worms; that This is the greatest Disregard they can possibly be guilty of, and a very ill Expression of Tenderness and Duty.  
And, that this Supposition is not so very much out of the way, we have plain matter of Fact to prove: For Darius made the Experiment, and found it to be exactly as I have put the Case. He first demanded of some Grecians, upon what Terms they would be content to take the Indian Custom of Eating the Bodies of their Deceased Parents; and their Answer was; What! do so Barbarous a thing, as Eat our own Fathers? We could not do it at any rate! Then again he attempted to persuade the Indians, That they would Burn the Bodies of their Parents, after the manner of the Grecians; and he found These a great deal more averse to his Proposal, and more difficult to be persuaded, than the Other. Give me leave here only to add one Instance more of Men's different ways of Reasoning in a Trifling Matter, and such as only concerns Decency and Civility. A Man that used to wipe his Nose upon his Fingers, being reproved for so unmannerly a Trick; desired in his own vindication, to know, what Privilege that silthy Excrement had above all the rest, that we must pay it the respect of a fine Handkerchief, and then, as if it were some valuable Treasure, wrap it up close, and carry it in one's Pocket: That in all reason this should rather turn one's Stomach, and give offence, than throwing it carelessly away. Thus you see how few things there are, for which some probable Reason may not be alleged; and This should be a warning to us, not to condemn Things hastily and rashly, but to consider both sides of the Question.  
But after all, the Power of Custom is incredible; no Man can conceive easily, 
The force of Custom.  how absolute and uncontrolled an Authority it exercises over Mankind. He that called it a Second Nature, came far short of the Truth; for it is equal, it is superior to Nature; it even contends with, it triumphs over, Nature. Whence, I pray, comes it to pass that Fathers never fall in Love with their own Daughters, though never so charming and desirable Creatures? Or why are Sisters seldom or never smitten with their own Brothers, though infinitely handsomer, better accomplished, and more engaging than Strangers? This Reservation and Coldness does not properly proceed from Nature; She makes no such Distinctions; These are the Effect of general Customs and Positive Laws, who forbidden such Mixtures, pronounce them Scandalous, and Horrid, Incestuous and Wicked; but again, I say, these Characters are fixed by Divine or Human Institutions; for Nature knows no such thing as Incest, nor condemns any Alliances, let the Line or Relation be what it will.  
This is sufficiently plain from Scripture not only if we consider the Children and 〈…〉 dents of Adam, whose Case made the 〈…〉 avoidable. But observe the Marriages and Relation of Abraham and Nahor, and the Descendants from Them; 
Gen. two. xx xxix. xxxviii. Exod. vi. Levit. xviii. Deut. xxii. 30. 2 Sam. xiii. 13. 1 Kings two.  the Matches of Isaac and Jacob; the Fact of Judah one of the Twelve Patriarches; Amram the Father of Moses; and other Holy and Eminent Persons. It was indeed the Law of Moses, which Prohibited these Mixtures within the nearest Degrees; And yet this very Law Dispensed with that Rule in certain Cases, not only in the Collateral Line, that of taking the Brother's Wife for instance, which was an express Command, and not barely an Indulgence, but between Brother and Sister of the Half Blood; nay, even in a Right Line of Alliance, as betwixt the Son and his Father's Wife; for as to a Right Line in Blood, This indeed seems a Crime against Nature, and the Example of Lot can give no Countenance to it; whatever Excuses some great Men have found for his Daughters, 
See Cajet. in Loc.  who seem to have done this for the sake of preserving Mankind, which in the Consternation they were then in upon the Destruction of Sodom, they thought All extirpated but Themselves. But the Law of Nature is an Original Law, and Eternal one too, such as none but God can dispense with, and such as we never find any Example of his having ever dispensed with. But then, as for such Incests as are Accidental, and Ignorant, and Involuntary, 'tis very likely Tertullian's Complaint may be too true, That the World is full of them.  
Farther yet; Custom commits a Violence upon the Rules of Nature, and overbears them; witness that daily practice of Physicians, who frequently forsake the Theory, and set aside what Art and Reason do both concur in, so far as the Rules and Grounds of their Profession can discover or direct; and take a different course with their Patients, in Deference to Experience, and common Success; Witness again those People, who have wrought a perfect Change in their Constitutions, even so as to Eat, nay to live upon Poison; Spiders and Aunts, Lizards and Toads; as several whole Nations are said to do in the Indies. Custom does likewise stupify our Senses, and alter the Temper of the Organ, and the quality of the Impression, and the Report made from it. To this purpose are the accounts we read of those People, who dwell near the Cataracts of the River Nile, and indeed a Mill-pool, or a Steeple, or a Brazier's Shop will in proportion have the same Effect; and, if you give credit to some Old Philosophers, All the World are deaf to the Music of the Spheres, which is nothing else, but the different Motions of the several Orbs turning round upon their own Axis, and variously justling and interfering with one another. In one word, The great and Master-workmanship of Custom is, That it subdues and conquers Nature, vanquishes every Difficulty; makes those things easy by degrees, which seemed unattainable and impossible; and the Bitterness of pain and Suffering it wears out, and softens, till at last our Complaints cease, and we are reconciled, even to our Miseries themselves. Nay it does not only produce Content, and lay asleep the sensitive Soul, but it manages and domineers over the Rational one too; and exercises a most unjust, and arbitrary Power, over our Imaginations, and Judgements. It makes and unmakes at pleasure: Gives and takes away Reputation and Esteem; without, nay sometimes, against Reason. It brings Notions in Philosophy, in Religion, in Politics, Opinions and Ceremonies, Fashions and Modes of Living into credit; though they be never so fantastical and extravagant; never so uncouth and distant from what Reason and Judgement would teach and approve. Nor is its Tyranny less formidable in the contrary Extreme; for it as frequently does great wrong, to things in themselves noble, and worthy of universal Advantage, by disparaging and lessening them, and even bringing them into Neglect, and universal Contempt. So unreasonably does Custom and common Fame raise or lower the Market; so precarious and uncertain is the greatest intrinsic Worth, if it happen to be lodged in an Obsolete Opinion, an Antiquated and Unfashionable Virtue; For all these things have their Seasons of Improvement and Declension; and the Sentiments of the World upon them will vary, though the Reason and Nature of the thing be constantly the same.  

* 
Nil adeo magnum, nec tam mirabile quiequam  
Principio, quod non desinant mirarier omnes— Paulatim.  Lucret. L. 11. — What we now with greatest ease receive,  
Seemed strange at first, and we could scarce believe;  
And what we wonder at, as Years increase,  
Familiar grows, and all our Wonder cease. Creech.  
Thus you plainly see the vast Influence, and excessive Power of Custom. Plato was once reproving a Youth, for playing often at Cob-nut; who replied in his own excuse, Methinks, Sir, under favour, you chide me for a very small matter: No, (said Plato) you are mightily mistaken; for be assured, Young Man, that Custom is never a small matter. A Sentence this, which well deserves the Serious Attention of All, who have the care of educating Youth. Once more. Custom is so very tyrannical in the Exercise of its Power, and expects so unreserved a Compliance, that it will not give us leave to struggle with it, or retreat from it; nay, does not allow us so much as the Liberty to consider, and reason with ourselves, whether what it imposes be fit for us to comply with, or not. It so perfectly charms our Senses and Judgement, as to persuade us that every thing which is new and strange, must needs be contrary to Reason; and that there can be no Justice or Goodness in any thing, which Custom hath not confirmed, and made current by its Approbation. We do not govern ourselves by Reason, but are carried away by 〈◊〉; whatever is most in use, that we esteem most virtuous, most becoming; even Error itself, when it is become Epidemical, hath the Authority of Truth with us. These Complaints of Seneca are but too true in every Age and Place; and, were only the Plain, and Mean, and Ignorant People concerned in them, the Calamity were somewhat tolerable: Because these Men are not really qualified to enter into the true Reasons and Differences of things; they have not Sagacity enough to see, nor Solidity enough to search an Argument to the bottom; and Therefore 'tis the best thing They can do, since they are not able to distinguish and judge for themselves, to pin their Opinions upon the Sleeves of Those that are able, and let Them speak for them. This is a safe and a peaceable way, and the Public sinds great Ease and Convenience from it. But for Wife Men, who are under a very different Character, and have another part to Act; to see Them led thus about by the Nose, and enslaved to every Folly, that puts on the Venerable Face of Custom; is very much below their Judgement and Quality; and may justly be allowed to move our Indignation, that They should so far forget themselves, and what they are qualisied for.  
I do not mean by this, that a Man, who would approve himself Wife, 
Advice with regard to Laws and Customs.  should be Singular and Precise, and denounce War upon all Mankind, and their Manners; for my Desire and Advice is, that he should be very observant of the Laws and Customs which are established, and in present force in the Country where he dwells: Yet that, not with a Servile Superstitious Spirit, but from a Manly and Generous Principle: That he should speak of them with Deference, and great Respect; and conform his Actions and whole Behaviour to the Rules and Measures they prescribe. And all this I would have him do; not merely from a Conviction of their Agreement with the Principles of Justice, and Equity, and Reason; but without regarding so much what they are in themselves; and upon this Consideration only, that they are Laws and Customs: Then I desire he should be very cautious and considerate in his Judgement of Foreign Customs and Constitutions, and not rashly condemn, or take offence at them, upon slight and superficial Pretences. And Lastly, I would have him with all possible Seriousness, Freedom, and Impartiality, examine into both the Domestic, and the Foreign; and engage his Judgement and Opinion in the behalf of either, no farther than Reason will bear him out; These are the Four Instructions, which I shall a little enlarge upon, and they contain the Whole, of what seems to me necessary under this Head.  
In the First place, All Wife Men agree, that the observing the Laws, 
They ought to be complied with.  and being governed by the Customs of the Country where we dwell, is the Great and Fundamental Principle; the Law of Laws; because indeed it is This, which gives Life and Vigour to all the rest. All affected ways of living that are particular, and out of the common Road, give just Cause of Indignation and Jealousy; betray a great deal of Folly, or Conceitedness, or Ambition; confound the Order, and disturb the Government of the World.  
I add in the Second Place, that This be done out of Reverence to Public Authority. 
Not merely for the Justice and Equity of them.  For strictly speaking, these Laws and Custom, support their Credit, and aught to preserve an Authority, not merely with regard to any inherent Equity or Reasonableness to be discovered in them; but they are sacred upon this single Consideration, That they are Laws and Customs, though there be nothing else to recommend them to our Observance. This is the Mystical Foundation upon which they stand, and the great Secret of Government; and, properly speaking, they have no other Motive but their Sanction to enforce them. My meaning is not from hence, That any Establishment, though never so strong, can derive a Right to our Obedience, upon Laws and Usages, manifestly Unreasonable and Unjust; but that He who obeys a Law, merely for the sake of its Subject-matter being just, though he do the thing commanded by it, yet he does it upon a wrong Principle. For at this rate every Law must submit itself to the Judgement of every private Man; and each Subject shall call it to account, arraign and try it at the Bar of his own Breast; bring all Obedience to be a Matter of Controversy and Doubt, and by consequence, all the Right of Administration, and the whole Civil Polity must truckle and submit, not only to the Fickleness and Variety of infinite several Judgements; but to the Changeable and Humoursome Sentiments of one and the same Person. That which binds the Law upon Men's Consciences, is the Authority of the Legislative Power; and the Sanction it receives from thence; the Reasonableness of the Duty contained in it is only an additional and collateral Obligation. How many Laws have there been in the World so far from any appearance of Piety or Justice, that they have really been exceeding trifling, extravagant, and senseless; such as no Man's Reason knew what to make of? And yet Mankind have submitted, nay, and enjoyed as much Peace, and good Order, and been as regularly governed, as highly contented; as if they had been the Justest and most reasonable, that ever Human Wisdom and Policy enacted. Now, he that should have gone about to create a Dissatisfaction and Dislike to such Laws, or attempted to repeal, or to amend them, would have deserved to be suspected as an Enemy to the Public, and not to be endured or hearkened to in a wise Government. There are very few things, but Human Nature may in process of Time reconcile itself to; and when once the Difficulty is overcome, and things sit easy upon People, it is no better in effect, than an Act of Hostility, to offer at the dissetling them again. We should always be content to let the World jog on in its own beaten Path; for it is but too often seen, that your Removers of Ancient Landmarks, and busy Politicians, under their plausible Pretences of Reforming, spoil, and ruin All.  
There is seldom or never any considerable Alteration made in established Laws, received Opinions, acknowledged Customs, and ancient Ordinances, and Discipline; but it is of very pernicious Consequence. The Attempt is always extremely hazardous; there is commonly more Hurt than Good done by it; at least this deserves to be duly weighed; That the Mischief, if less in itself, is yet sooner felt; for the Disorders every Change creates are certain and present, but the Advantages it produces are distant and doubtful; so that we exchange a Good in Possession, for one in Expectation only; and where we submit to That, there ought to be very great Odds in value, to justify the Prudence of our Proceeding. This is certain, that Men are but too fond of Novelties, before they have tried them; and Innovators never want some very fair and plausible Pretences, to catch and feed their Fancies with; but the more of this kind they pretend, the more ought we to suspect and be ware of them. For how indeed can we forbear detesting the vain and ambitious Presumption of Persons, who undertake to see farther, and be wiser than all Mankind besides? What an intolerable Arrogance is it in such Turbulent and Factious Spirits, to persuade Men into Compliance with their Humours, at the Expense of the Public Peace, and to think it worth while, that the Government should run the Risque of its own Ruin, merely for the sake of establishing a fresh Scheme, and passing a private Opinion into an Universal Law?  
I have already hinted, and do repeat it here again, That we are not by any means obliged to obey all Laws and Constitutions whatsoever, which our Superiors shall think fit to impose, without any Distinction or Reserve; For where we find them evidently to contradict the Laws of God and Nature, in such case, we must neither comply on the one hand, nor disturb the Public Peace by our refusing to do so on the other. How Men ought to behave themselves in such Critical Junctures, will fall more properly under Consideration, when we come in the next Book to treat of our Duty to Princes. And indeed this Inconvenience is much more frequent upon Subjects, with regard to Their Arbitrary Commands, than the Established Laws. Nor is it sufficient, that we submit to Laws and Governors, upon the account of their Justice, and particular Worth; but this must not be done servilely, and cowardly, upon Motives of Fear and Force; This is a Principle sit only for the Meanest and most Ignorant; it is part of a Wise Man's Character, to do nothing unwillingly and upon Compulsion, but to delight in his Duty, and find a sensible Pleasure in a reasonable Obedience. He keeps the Laws, for his own sake; because he is jealous and tender of doing any thing he ought not, and a rigid Master over himself. He needs no Laws to constrain him, in what is decent and good. This distinguishes Him from the Common Populace, who have no other Sense or Direction of their Duty, but what Positive Laws can give. In strictness, according to the old Stoical Notions, the Wise Man is above the Laws, and a Law to himself. But however, he pays all outward Deference to them, and a free voluntary Obedience, This is due from him as a Member of Society, as the inward Freedom of his Mind is owing to the Prerogative of a Philosopher.  
In the Third Place, I affirm it to be the Effect of extreme Levity, a Presumption, vain in itself, and injurious to others; nay, a Mark of great Weakness and Insufficiency of Judgement, to Condemn all those Laws and Customs abroad, which are not conformable to those of our own Native Country. This indeed is owing either to want of Leisure and Opportunity, or to want of Ability, and Largeness of Mind for the considering the Reasons and Grounds impartially, upon which Foreign Establishments are founded. It is a great Wrong done to our own Judgement, to pronounce a Rash Sentence, which, when we come to a more perfect understanding of the Cause, we shall in many Instances, find ourselves obliged to retract, and be ashamed of. And it is an Argument that we forget the Extent and Condition of Human Nature; how many, and how different things it is susceptible of. It is a shutting the Eyes of our Mind, and suffering them to be laid asleep, and deluded, with the often repeated Impressions of the same thing, the daily Dream of Long Use; and to submit so far to Precedent and Prescription, that These should overbear the plainest Reason; and give Example the Ascendent over Judgement.  
Lastly, It is the Business and the Character of a generous Mind, and such a Wise Man, as I am here drawing the Idea of, to examine all things. First, To take each apart, and consider it by itself; Then to lay them one over against another, and compare them together; that so the several Laws and Customs of the whole World, so far as they shall come to his Knowledge, may have a full and a fair Trial; and that, not for the directing his Obedience, but to assert his Right, and execute his Office. When This is done, he ought to pass an honest and impartial Judgement upon them, as he shall find them, upon this enquiry, to be agreeable, or otherwise, with Truth, and Reason, and Universal Justice; For This is the Rule, This the Standard, which all of them are to be Tried and Measured by. To These we are Principally and Originally engaged; nor may we so far falsify our Obligations, as to departed from Them in favour of any Customs; or to suffer our Judgements to be debauched with false Notions, though our National Constitutions were Ten thousand times dearer to us, than it is possible to suppose them For These can only claim a Secondary Obligation; the Former was general, and concerned us as Men; This only binds us as Subjects, or Natives of such a determinate place; and so the Obligation is limited and particular; and if we pay our outward Observance, and submit in our Behaviour to these Municipal Injunctions, this part of our Duty is discharged; and all Parties have reason to be satisfied. It is true, Things may so fall out, that in compliance with this Second, this particular, and Local Obligation, (that is, in conformity to the Laws and Customs of the Place where we dwell) we may do something, that does not appear to Us in every point Agreeable to the Primitive and Universal one; that is, such as Nature and Reason do not dictate, nor evince the Equity of; but we still are true to this Obligation, by reserving our Judgement for it, acknowledging that what Nature suggests, and Universal Equity dictates, aught to be preferred; and continuing firm in our Opinions, that This is always best, though it be the Unhappiness of our particular Constitution not to be regulated according to it. For after all, our Judgement is the only thing we can call our Own, and all we have left to dispose of; the World hath nothing to do with our Thoughts. Our External Behaviour, 'tis true, the Public lays claim to, This we ought to pay, and must be accountable for it; and therefore thus far our Laws and Usages take place. We may very justly do, what we cannot approve for any Justice or Goodness of its own; and Obey Laws, which have nothing of that intrinsic Excellence, that, had we been in Power, or perfectly Free, we should either have Enacted, or made Choice of them. A great deal must be foregone for the sake of Order and Quiet; for, in short, there is no Remedy; This is the Condition of the World, and, as matters stand, Mankind could not subsist without it.  
Next in order to the Two former Governesses, Law and Custom, succeeds a Third; who with a great many is esteemed of equal Authority with Either of the Former; and indeed, Those that submit, and enslave themselves to her, she treats with a more tyrannical, and unrelenting Severity, than Either of the Former does. And This is Ceremony, which in plain English, is for the most part no better, than a set Form of Vanity. But yet, through Littleness of Soul, and the spreading depravation of Mind and Manners, so very general among Men; it hath gained so undeserved Honour and Reputation, and usurped such a Power, and is so insolent in the Exercise of it, that a great many People are possessed with an Opinion, That Wisdom consists in a nice Observance of it. Under this Notion of the Thing, they tamely come to the Yoke, and list themselves its most willing Slaves; insomuch, that their Health, their Convenience shall suffer and be lost; Business be disappointed; Liberty be sold or given up; Conscience violated; God and Religion neglected; rather than they will suffer themselves to offend against one of the least, and nicest Punctilios. This is manifestly the Case of Formal Courtiers, and Others, that affect the Character of Civility and good Breeding; This Mint, and Anise, and Cummin, is punctually paid, when the weightier matters of the Law are passed over; and the Idol Ceremony set up in the place, and to the infinite prejudice, of plain downright Honesty, and sincere Friendship. Now I am very desirous, That the Wife Man of my Forming should by no means suffer himself to be thus Captivated and Imposed upon. Not that I would have him Singular and Morose, as if Wisdom consisted in Rudeness, and acting in Desiance of Ceremony; for some Allowance must be made to the way of the World; and all the outward Conformity we can show, is sit to be paid to the Manners of it, provided always, That this Compliance do not thwart other more weighty Considerations. For thus much I must needs insist upon, That my Scholar never bind himself without reserve, nor be so absolutely Devoted to these sorts of Respect, but that, when he shall sinned it Necessary, in point of Duty, or otherwise shall see fit, he may have the Courage to Dispense with, and show, that he can Despise these little Niceties. And This I would have done with so visible a Prudence and Gallantry of Soul; that all the World may be satisfied, it is not Humour and Affectation, nor Ignorance, or sordid Neglect, which moves him to a Behaviour different from Theirs; but that he is acted by a right Judgement, and juster Notions of the matter; which will not let him value these poor things more highly than they deserve; that even where his outward Comportment is suited to the Practice, his Will and Judgement are entire and uncorrupted, and have not been perverted to a false Approbation and Esteem: In short, That, however he may lend himself to the World when he sees occasion, and not be Sullen, and Restiff, and Particular; yet he will not, nor can it ever become any Wise or Good Man, to sell, or give himself up to the World, by being eternally Supple and Ceremonious, and devoted entirely to the Rules, and Modes of it.   

CHAP. IX. Modest and Obliging Behaviour in Conversation.  
THIS Particular is properly reducible to the Topick of Justice; a Branch of that Virtue, which instructs us how to live and converse with all Mankind; and to render to every Man, what by any sort of Right becomes his due. And the proper Place for Treating of This will be in the following Book; where the different Rules and particular Directions will be laid down, suitable to particular Persons and Occasions. At present you must expect only general Advice, That being agreeable to the Scheme at first Proposed, and such as the Design and Matter of this Second Part of my Treatise is consigned to.  
Now this is a Subject, which offers itself to us under a Twofold Consideration, and consequently this Chapter which discourses of it, must of necessity be divided into Two Parts; according to the Two different sorts of Conversation, which Men use, and are engaged in, with the World. One of these is simple, general, at large, and in common; such as is made up of our ordinary Company, and that Indifferency in Commerce and Acquaintance, which some accidental Occasion, or Business, or Travelling together, or Meeting in Third Places, or frequent interviews at places of Public Resort, or the Civilities of Visits and Complimental Ceremonies, do every day lead us into; and so increase, or lessen the number of our Acquaintance, introduce new Familiarities, or change our Old; All, or some of which, happen not only with those we know, but with such as we never knew nor saw before: And This is a Correspondence and Conversation wholly owing to Fortune, and Formality; our own Choice hath nothing to do with it, nor did we seek or take pains to procure, or contract it. The Other sort of Conversation may be called Particular; because consisting of such Companions as we like and love; Acquaintance of our own desiring; such as we either industriously sought, and chose to recommend ourselves to; or else such as when offered to Us, was most willingly embraced, and that with a prospect of Advantage to ourselves; either for the improvement of our Minds, or the advancing our Interest, or some other Profit or Pleasure, which we hope to reap from an Intimacy with them. And here, we are not to consider such a supersicial Commerce as before, but that which is stricter and more endearing, close Conferences, mutual Communication; secret Confidences, and great Familiarity. Each of which require distinct Rules, and shall have Directions apart. But before we enter upon either of these Considerations, I beg the Readers leave, to lay down One general Rule, which regards them both; and is in truth a Fundamental Principle in the Case before us; for which reason I choose to place it here, as a necessary Introduction to every part of the subsequent Discourse.  
One very great Vice, which, the Wiseman I am all this while forming, 
Easiness of Humour.  must be sure to keep himself clear of; (and indeed a most Unseasonable and Troublesome ill Quality it is, both to ones self, and to all he converses with) is the being particularly addicted to some certain Humours, to keep always in the same road of Conversation. This brings a man into slavery to himself, to be so inseparably wedded to his own Inclination, and Fancy, that he can upon no occasion be prevailed with to comply, nor be agreeable to other People; and 'tis a certain sign of a perverse and unsociable Disposition; the Effect of ill-nature and ill-breeding; of unreasonable Arrogance, Partiality, and Selfconceitedness: The Men of this Temper have a rare time on't; for, wherever they come, they are sure to meet with Objects enough, either to try their Patience, or to raise a Controversy. On the other hand, It argues great Wisdom, and Sufficiency, when a Man hath an absolute command of his Temper, so that he can accommodate himself to all Companies; and is of such a flexible and manageable Spirit, that he can rise and fall with the Company, be pleasant or serious, keep pace, and constantly make one, with what he finds the rest disposed to. And indeed the best and bravest Men have always the largest and most general Souls; and nothing argues Greatness of Mind more, than this universal Temper; the being always in good humour, free, and open, and generous in Conversation. This is a Character so beautiful, that it in some measure resembles God himself, and is a Copy of his Communicative Goodness: And among other things said in Honour of Old Cato, this is one Noble Commendation; 
* Huic versatile ingenium; Sic pariter ad omnia suit, ut natum ad id unum dicks, quodcunque agere●.  That he was of a Disposition so dextrous and easy, that nothing ever came amiss to him; and whatever you saw him engaged in at that time, he was so perfectly Master of it, that you would imagine this, the very thing, which Nature had cut him out for.  
Having premised this general Consideration, which is of use in both the following Branches of the Subject, 
First part. And Advice upon it.  I am now upon; let us return to the former part of the Division, which concerns what I called Simple, and General, and Common Conversation; in distinction from that other, which is Chosen, and Intimate, and Particular.  
Now for Our Behaviour in this Point; there are several things very proper and necessary to be observed; and the First thing I would advise, is, To be very Reserved and Modest in our Discourse.  
The Second is, Not to be out of humour with every foolish, or indiscreet thing; every little Indecency, or Levity, which want of better Sense, or better Breeding, or some unthinking Gaiety of mind may betray Men to: For we are to consider, when in Company, that we are in some degree disposed of to Others, and no longer entirely our Own; so that, allowing the Thing to have been otherwise than it ought, and better let alone; yet it is troublesome, and impertinent in Us to take offence at every thing, which is not just as we would have it, or think it ought to be.  
The Third is, Not to be too profuse of speaking all we know; but to play the good Husbands, and manage the Stock of our Understanding prudently. For Reservedness is not unbecoming even the wisest, and best provided for Discourse; so far as it argues a Deference to the rest of the Company, and declines that Assuming way of talking All. But generally it is adviseable, that Men should be more inclined to hear, than to speak; and converse, rather with a prospect of informing Themselves, than with an Intention to teach the Company. For indeed 'tis a very great salt, to be more forward in setting one's self on, and Talking to show one's Parts; than to Learn the Worth, and to be truly acquainted with the Abilities of other Men: He that makes it his business not to Know, but to be Known, is like a foolish Tradesman, that makes all the haste he can to fell off his old 〈◊〉, but takes no thought of laying in any new.  
The Fourth is, Not to lie upon the Catch for Disputes; nor to show our Wit, by perpetually entering into Argument; and even, when it is proper to do so, with regard to the Subject, yet to make a difference, as to the Persons, with whom we are to engage. We ought not to contest a Point with Persons of Honour, and those that are much above us; it is a breach of the Deference and Respect due to their Character. Nor will it become us to do it with those that are much below us, either in Quality, or in Parts; for neither of these are an equal Match for us; To the One we are restrained by Good Manners; and the Other is to Triumph, where we ought rather to be ashamed of the Victory.  
The Fifth Rule is, To be Modestly Inquisitive: For there is a decent and very commendable Curiosity, such as with great Innocence and Temper, and genteel Address, endeavours to be informed of all things sit to be known; and when a Man hath attained to this, his next care must be to manage his Knowledge to the best advantage, and make every thing turn to some account with him.  
The Sixth and most important Direction is, To make use of his Judgement upon all occasions; for the examining and considering Matters well is the Masterpiece of a Man; 'Tis This, that acts, and influences, and finishes All. Without the Understanding every thing is void of Sense and Life, and in all respects as if it were not. Thus in History particularly, How poor a thing is it to remember the Passages we read? The judging of what is done is the Soul and Energy of Reading: But this perhaps you will think a little out of season here; and so far I confess it is, that the acting this judicious part in Conversation, is what concerns a Man's self, and not the Company he is engaged in.  
The Seventh is, Never to talk positively, nor be peremptory in any thing: And above all things, to avoid that Magisterial and Imperious Air, that pretends to Dictate to all the Company; That Stiffness and Opiniatrety, which is, of all things in the World, the most nauseous and offensive. An insolent dogmatical Humour is what no body can help being provoked at; and indeed it is usually a sign of a Senseless Ignorant Fellow. The Style of the Ancient Romans was so extremely modest, that even the Witnesses in their Depositions, and the Judges in their Sentences and Decrees, when they spoke nothing but from their own positive and certain Knowledge, did always soften their Expressions with an Ita videtur, To the best of my Knowledge, and This is my Judgement. And if these Persons were so much upon their Guard in those most Solemn Occasions; what ought the Generality of People to be in Common Discourse? Sure it were convenient, for a Man to accustom himself to all those Expressions, that may any way sweeten the harshness, or take off from the rashness of what we say; such as, Possibly, As they say, In my Opinion, In some sense; And so again, when we reply to others, to qualify our Answers thus, Sir, I do not apprehend you; what is the meaning of that? nay possibly it may be so, say you so? or the like. By all which we sufficiently make our own Sense understood, but convey it in a less shocking manner.  
I will conclude this first general part of the Chapter with this short Admonition; That the true Qualifications for conversing with the World, are 
* Frons aperta, Lingua parca, Mens clau●a, Nulli sidere. Vide, Audi, Judica.  an open good-natured face, a free air, pleasing and agreeable to every body; a mind close and secret, open to no body; a Tongue sober and reserved, such Discretion as is always upon its Guard, and lays not too much stress upon other People; in short, The Man that sees and hears a great deal, that talks little, and judges every thing, is perfectly accomplished, as to this Point.  
Let us now proceed to the other Consideration, and that part of Conversation which is Chosen and Particular. 
Second part. Particular Conversation.  And here these following Hints may probably be of some use, for the due Government of ourselves.  
The First concerns the Choice of our Acquaintance; in which it should be our great care, to find out Men of the best Sense, and soundest Judgement; and to frequent the Company of such. For by conferring with Wise and Judicious Persons, the Mind whets and fortifies itself; it improves every day, hath stronger and higher Notions of Things, and is elevated above its common pitch. As on the other hand, it degenerates and falls off, grows poor, and weak, and despicably low; by using the Conversation of People that are so: For Ill Qualities are catching as well as Diseases; and the Mind is at least as much, if not a great deal more, liable to Infection, than the Body.  
The Second is, Not to be Surprised, or much Offended with the Opinions of other People; for how different soever they may be from our Own, or from Those commonly entertained in the World; how odd and extravagant, how frivolous and absurd soever they may appear to Us, yet still they are suited, it seems, to the Notions and Nature of a Human Mind; which, like a fertile Soil, is in a capacity of producing all manner of Seed; and therefore it is a Weakness in us to be amazed at a Crop, so very unlike what grows in our own part of this common Field.  
The Third is, Not to be afraid of Correction, nor surprised or troubled for any rough Treatment, or sharp expressions, which it shall fall to our Lot to receive. For These are Things, that a Man ought by all means to harden himself against, and learn to bear them without being moved. Brave Men express themselves boldly; they speak and spare not; This nice and ceremonious Softness, this tender Complaisance, so fearful to give the least umbrage, is fit for none but Women, and formal Coxcombs: Men ought to Converse like Men; their Familiarity should be open and free, masculine and generous, full of courage and becoming confidence; they should dare, both to give and take Reproof, when occasion requires. It is but a dull and insipid Pleasure, to have always to do with such supple and well-bred Fools, as Consent, and Flatter, and Applaud all you say, be it True or False, Right or Wrong, Indifferently.  
The Fourth is, To make Truth our Constant Aim and End; to direct all Discourses hither, to acknowledge it wheresoever we meet it, to yield to it fairly and cheerfully; For This is a Mark of Ingenuity, to make no difference or respect of Persons, but give up our Assent to Truth, let it come from what hand it will; To be Honest and Sincere upon all occasions, and in all our disputes; and not like Pedantic Wretches, who affect to show their Parts, maintain an Argument, right or wrong, and wrangle for Victory, and the last Word; and think it a Reproach to give out, and not Silence their Adversary. The noblest Conquest, after all, is to conquer one's own Vanity; and the truest Glory, is to submit to Reason; for This we are sure is Victory indeed; but an Adversary may be bastled by Art and Management; a Good Cause may suffer by a weak and unskilful Defence; This is not carrying a Point, but triumphing over an Infirmity; and therefore all Heat, and Positiveness, and Passion, should be avoided. When a Man confesses his Mistake, owns his Scruples, or his Ignorance; and acknowledges his Faults, when made sensible of them; when he can yield quietly and decently to stronger Reasons; This Man shows more than common Marks of Judgement, and Candour, and Sincerity; which are indeed the principal Qualities of Honesty and Wisdom; But Stiffness and Obstinacy is an irrefragable Evidence of an ill Mind; and a sure sign of great, and many Vices and Defects.  
Fifthly. When we engage in any Dispute, it will be very advisable, not to trouble one's self with mustering up all the Arguments that can any way be serviceable to us; but rather out of that Variety to cull out a few of the best, most pertinent, and such as come up to our purpose; and to put These into as close and short a method, as conveniently we can. For let a Man talk never so well, yet he may say too much; and the best Subjects may be rendered tedious. And indeed, this Affected way of Enlargement, and Spinning out our Discourses; our Repetitions and formal Amplifications, are a certain sign of a Man's Ostentation, and Vanity, and loving to hear himself Talk; and as such, it is certain too, to be troublesome and offensive, and never fails to tyre, and to prejudice the Company against us.  
The Sixth, and indeed the Chief, Direction is, To observe due Form and Order, and not to make impertinent Digressions and Excursions in our Discourses. Oh the horrid Confusion, and Vexation, that there is in disputing or talking, with an impertinent Coxcomb; that ventures at All, knows nothing of the Matter, will be kept to no Method, but is eternally out of Time! This seems the only reasonable excuse for breaking abruptly, and renouncing all Measures; nay, for leaving the Field, and giving quite out. For, what can you expect but Teazing and Torment, from a Fellow, that is Untractable, and Incorrigible? Not to discern the Strength of what you offer against him, to take his own course, to run away with his own Notions, and never Reply to the Objections of an Adversary; to hang upon some one word; to catch hold upon a thing accidental and by the by; and let go the principal and designed Argument of Discourse; to confound and jumble all; suspect every word; deny every thing at a venture; to proceed in no order; to weary you with formal Prefaces, and unprofitable Digressions; and after a world of words, nothing to the purpose, to grow Loud and Clamorous; to stick to his own Sense, and not to be one whit moved by all one can say; to insist upon Forms and Terms of Art; and never come to the true head of an Argument, nor know the real Merits of the Cause; These are the Qualities, and common Practice of Pedants and Sophisters, Arrogant and Affected Coxcombs. And from this Description we may very easily learn, how to distinguish between judicious and pertinent Wisdom, and prating Impertinence and Folly. This is Bold and Rash, Hot and Fierce, Arrogant and Assured; the Former is never Confident or Positive; but Cautious and Fearful; Modest and Referved; Calm and Peaceable. The Wise Man is full of Respect, and free in making Allowances; obtains his Victory fairly, and uses it generously; but the Impertinent is full of Self-satisfaction and Joy; leaves the field with an air of Gaiety and Boasting; as taking for granted that the Day is his own; all his Countenance and Behaviour is triumphant, and proclaims to the Company, that he looks upon himself as absolute Conqueror.  
Lastly. When we are reduced to a necessity of contradicting any thing said; particular care should be taken, that we do it not after a bold and assuming manner; nor betray any thing that looks like Eagerness and a Spirit of Contention. For, if it have any of these ill Symptoms, it can never be well received; and the Mischief will be much greater to the Author himself, than to the Person whom it is directed against. The only way to render any opposition tolerably easy to the Company, and to be secure from any of those ill Resentments, which are apt to follow upon it, is to contrive, that it should be produced upon the spot, and immediately applied to the Matter, which gave the Provocation; that it be not far fetched, not foreign to the present Discourse, nor ripping up somewhat long past and forgotten. It must also be leveled at the Thing alone, and be free from any Personal Reflections; nor must we contradict any thing because such a one says it, but merely because the Thing itself deserves, and the vindication of Innocence or Truth requires it. In which case, if there be any manner of occasion put into our hands, it is a very proper expedient, to soften the difference of Opinion, with some particular Commendation of the Person we oppose; But above all things, we must be sure that in all matters of this Nature, we command our Temper; and Reason with all the Coolness, and calm Argument; the gentlest Terms, and most inoffensive Language, that is possible.   

CHAP. X. Prudent Management of Business.  
THIS Particular does in strictness belong to the Virtue of Prudence; of which our intended Method hath not as yet led us to treat, but reserved that to the following Book. And there indeed is the proper place, for insisting severally upon the many Rules and Admonitions, which answer to the several Kind's and Branches of Prudence; and provice against that infinite variety of Occurrences, which call for the exercise of it in Human Life. But in the mean while, I will so far enter into that Subject at present, as to lay down some of the principal Points of Prudence, which may serve for common and general Topics; Thus to instruct my Scholar in the Gross, how to behave himself well and wisely in the common Correspondence and Commerce of the World; and to make him a Master of his Business. For the due Management whereof, I would recommend these Eight Directions that follow.  
The First of these is, That he would be sure to get good Information, 
Knowledge of Men and Things.  and a competent Knowledge of Men and Things. For the Men he hath to deal with, it is requisite he be well acquainted with their particular Humour and Disposition, their Understanding and Capacity, their Inclination, and governing Passions; their Intention and Design, and the Methods by which they move. The Things, or particular Business, in which a man is engaged, or which he proposes to undertake, ought likewise to be well understood; Whereby I mean, not such a slender and superficial Knowledge, as considers the Appearances only, but a thorough Examination to the very bottom: Such a Disquisition, as does not only consider the Things themselves in their own Nature, but enlarges and extends itself, to the Accidents which they in any probability may be encumbered with, and the several Consequences they are like to draw after them. Now, in order to attaining this Knowledge, it is necessary to take a close and particular view of our Affairs; to turn them all manner of ways, eye them in all the different Prospects they are capable of, and nicely scan all the Forms, and Circumstances of them, which our own Imagination can represent them under. For there are a great many Attempts, which have a fair and beautiful side, full of Invitation and large Promises; and yet if you turn the other side, look horrid and forbidding, and show nothing but Deformity and Danger. Now there is no occasion to prove the Necessity of such a Knowledge as This; because it is so very evident, that This is the very Compass Men must steer by; For no Man doubts, but that the different Tempers of Men, and conditions of Things bring us under an absolute Necessity of changing our Measures, and making all our Scheme suitable to them. A Man in this case should be as vigilant, and as dextrous, as the Seamen are; who immediately gibe their Sails, and ply their Oars differently; as the Wind shifts, or their Course they run, brings them upon different Roads and Shores. And as They could never make their Ports by steering always the same Course, no more could a Man, who always governs himself alike in Business, expect any other effect at last, than that his Affairs should be ruined and come to nothing, and that all the World should despise and laugh at his Folly. Now, if we do but reflect a very little, how intricate the Affairs of the World are, and how much more intricate and full of Disguise Human Nature is; The Perplexity will appear so great, as to convince us, that the Knowledge I have here been advising, is no such easy matter; but that we must be content to come at it slowly and painfully; for it requires much Attention, long Study, and repeated Consideration; a Judgement clear and strong, and a Mind unprejudiced and free from Passion.  
The next Lesson to be learned upon this occasion, is That of knowing how to make a just Estimate of Things, 
Just Valuation of cm.  so as to give each that real Value, and proper Place in our Opinion, which of Right belongs to it. And this is a certain Effect of Prudence and Sufficiency. It is indeed a very high pitch of Philosophy, to be able to do this; and such as a Man shall never rise up to, except he first get clear of his own deceitful Passions, and the Common received Errors of the World. There are some six or seven Qualities, that strangely captivate Vulgar Minds; and seduce them into very mistaken Valuations of a Thing, which Wise Men will take good Care not to be deluded by. These are, The Novelty, The Rarity, The Strangeness, The Difficulty, The Artisicial Composure, The Quaintness of the Invention, The Absence or present Want, The losing or being refused; it; but especially, and above all the rest, the Noise, and Show, and Pomp it creates in the World. Thus the generality of People look upon all things to be little better than despicable, which are not exalted by Art, and Study, and Human Skill; they must have them raised and resined, to recommend them. Those that are plain and simple, and have nothing but their own Native Excellencies to set them off, (let those Excellencies in reality be never so valuable) are so far from being had in any regard, that they are scarce taken notice of at all. They pass off in the common Crowd, unobserved and unseen; or, if they are seen, yet do they not move us, but are looked upon as low, flat, and insipid: Than which we cannot have a plainer Proof of the Vanity and Weakness of Mankind, who thus take up with Air and Emptiness, and are content to accept Base Metal, and Counterfeit Coin in Payment, rather than True Standard and Current Money. Hence it is, that Art is so much preferred before Nature; Acquired Excellencies to Those that are Innate; Things difficult and elaborate, before Those that are easy; sudden Gushes, and Flights, and impetuous Sallies, before the Constancy and Calmness of Habit and Temper; Things extraordinary, above Those that are ordinary and usual; Ostentation and Pomp, above intrinsic and private real Worth; Things that are Another's, above our Own; Foreign above Domestic, Borrowed before Natural. And how egregiously foolish now is all This? This, I say, is the Folly of the Vulgar and the Undiscerning; but Wise Men observe other Measures. They take care not to be thus imposed upon, nor carried away with fantastical Notions; but to pass a severe and critical Enquiry; and judge of Things, first by their True, Substantial, and Natural Goodness, which many times is internal, and lies far out of sight; And then by the Advantages they are capable of bringing. These are solid Foundations of Esteem, all the rest is mere Cheat and Delusion.  
Now, it must be confessed, the being able to make these Distinctions judiciously, is exceeding difficult; for the World is full of Sophistry and Disguise; Things have a Thousand False Faces; and it often happens, that Those which are really Sergeant and worth nothing, look fairer, more gay, more inviting; than Those that are truly valuable and good. (Nay, Aristotle hath ventured to say, That in Matters of Speculation, there are a great many Falsities, which carry more show of Probability, and bid fairer at first sight for engaging our Assent, than several Truths do:) But then, for our Encouragement, we ought to remember, that as This is a very difficult and laborious, so is it likewise an incomparably Noble and most Divine Attainment; and withal, that it is of infinite Use, and Absolute Necessity. 
* Quàm necessarium pretia rebus imponere?  How necessary is it (saith Seneca) to set a true rate upon things? And so without question it must needs be. For, to what purpose does a Man inform himself in the Rules and Directions for living well, till he be first rightly instructed, what account he ought to hold those several Objects in, which his Desires and Actions are conversant about? Riches, for instance, and Health, and Beauty, and Quality, and Learning, what degrees of Good these can pretend to, and what Evil he is to expect, or can suffer from their Contraries. It is a great Instance of Skill in Moral Heraldry, to know the Places of all these, and what Precedences are due to them respectively; and especially, when several of them meet together, it is not easy to proportion our Respects, because the Number confounds us; and indeed all People are not, nor ever will be agreed as to their Quality, which of them is most honourable. The Tastes and Judgements of particular Persons differ exceedingly; And it is very well they do, for if all Mankind were fond of the same thing, they would constantly be interfering, and hindering one another.  
For an Instance of what I have said; let us take these Eight Principal Sources of all the Happiness, we can propose to ourselves in this World; whether of Body or Mind. I shall pair them together by mentioning Four of each sort; And they are Probity and Health; Wisdom and Beauty; Good Parts and Quality; Learning and Riches. These Terms I understand here in the common and received Sense, and do not confine them to a Philosophical Nicety. By Wisdom I mean a Prudence and Discretion in the Government of ourselves, and in all our conversation and Deportment with Others: By Good Parts, that Capacity, and those Abilities for Business, which such Persons are known to be prepared and provided with, above others, to whom Nature hath been less bountiful. And by Learning, that Knowledge of Things, which is acquired by Books and Study. The Rest are so perspicuous, that they need no Explanation.  
Now what a prodigious Difference do we find in the Opinions of Men, in adjusting the Place and Precedence, which is pretended to belong to these Eight Things? What infinite and irreconcilable Competitions are there among them? I, for my own part, have delivered my own Judgement freely already in this Treatise; I have here mingled them together, and tacked them to one another in such order, that each Advantage of the Mind hath one belonging to the Body, joined; and so joined as to be correspondent, to it; for as Nature hath united Body and Soul together, so she seems to have given each of them Accomplishments extremely agreeable, and alike. Thus Health is to the Body, what Probity is to the Mind; it is the Probity or good Disposition of the Body, as Probity is the Health of the Soul. These should be the Sum of our Wishes. 

* — Mens sana in Corpore sano.  Forgive the Gods the rest, and stand confined  
To Health of Body, and a Virtuous Mind.  Says the Poet.  
Beauty is commensurate to Wisdom; the Just Measure, exact Proportion, and Comeliness, is the Wisdom of the Body; and Wisdom is the Regularity, the Decency, the Beauty of the Soul. Quality and Good Birth is a wonderful Capacity, a mighty Disposition to Virtue; and these Spiritual Abilities again, and Good Parts, are the Nobility of the Mind. Learning is the Wealth of the Soul, and Riches the acquired Advantage of the Body. Others, I know, will differ from me in the Method and Order of ranging these Qualifications; for some put all the Advantages of the Mind first; and are of opinion, that the least of These is more valuable, than the best and highest of Those that belong to the Body; and others, who go not so far, yet may not agree in the Preference due to each Particular. Every Man in this Case follows his own Sense, and from that we cannot but expect great Variety of Judgements will ensue.  
In the next place, succeeds a Third Qualification, which indeed naturally springs out of the former; For, 
Wise Choice.  from the Sufficiency of passing a just Estimate upon things, is derived an Ability of making a Wise Choice; and this is, not only a matter of Duty and Conscience, but very often an Eminent Instance of Wisdom and good Conduct. There are indeed some Cases extremely plain and easy; as when Difficulty and Vice, Honesty and Profit, Duty and Inrest stand in competition; For the Preeminence in this Comparison is so visible and so vast, on one side above the other, that whenever these things encounter each other, the Advantage lies, and the Balance should always fall, to the side of Duty, though attended with never so great Difficulty and Inconvenience. In the Case of Private Persons, I mean, for possibly there may sometimes be room for an Exception; but then this does not often happen, and if it do, 'tis generally in the Administration of Public Affairs; and then too, it must be managed with great Tenderness and Circumspection. But of This I shall have a more proper season to speak, when my Third Book brings us to treat of Prudence in particular. But sometimes there is such a Conjuncture of Circumstances, that a Man is driven to a very hard Choice: As for Instance, When we stand enclosed, as it were, with Two Vices, and there is no getting clear of both. Thus History describes that Eminent Father Origen, who had it left to him, Whether he would commit Idolatry, or suffer his Body to be carnally abused by a Moor: The first was the Thing he chose, and some say he chose amiss. Now, when we are unhappily involved in such Perplexities, and at a loss which way we should incline, in the choice of Matters not morally evil; the best Rule we can be guided by, is to go over to that side, where there is the greatest Appearance of Justice and Honesty. For, though every thing should not afterwards succeed according to our Wish or Expectation, yet there will result so pleasing an Applause, such Glory, and Self-gratulations from within, for our having taken the better Part, as will make us ample Compensation for our Misfortunes, and abundantly support us under them: And besides all this, If the Worse, but seemingly Safer Side, had been chosen, what Security can we have, that the Event would have proved more favourable? and why may we not reasonably suppose, that the Governor and Lord of Us, and all our Fortunes, would have been provoked to punish, and disappoint us that way too? When Matters seem to be so equal, that we cannot distinguish, which is the better, and shorter course, we should take that which is the plainest and straightest. And in Things manifestly Immoral (of which properly speaking there cannot be any Choice) we must avoid that which is most detestable, and hath more of Villainy and Horror in it. For this indeed is a Point of Conscience, and is more truly a part of Probity than of Prudence. But it is very often exceeding hard to satisfy one's self, which of Two things of the same kind is the more agreeable to Justice, or to Decency, or which is preferable in point of Advantage: And so likewise of Two Ill Things, which is the more Unjust, more Indecent and Dishonest, or attended with worse Consequences. Upon the whole matter then, though the Act of choosing is an Act of Probity and Conscience; yet the Ability of making this Choice aright is a part of Prudence and sound Judgement. I am apt to believe, that in such straits as these, the best and safest way will be to follow Nature; and to determine, that those Things which are most agreeable to Nature, are the more just and becoming; and that what is most distant from, or contrary to Nature, is more especially to be avoided and abhorred by us. This agrees well with what was formerly delivered in our description of Probity, That we ought to be Good Men, by the Dictates and Impulse of Nature.  
Before I go off from this Point of Choice, give me leave to say one word or two for the resolving a Doubt, which some People have started, with regard to the Determination of our Wills in these Cases. The Question is, When Two Things are proposed so Equal and Indifferent, that we can give no reason, why One should be valued more than the Other; what it is that disposes the Soul to take the One, and leave the Other? The Stoics pretend, that it is a rash Operation of the Soul, somewhat Foreign, and Extraordinary, and beside its proper course. But let Them say what they will, We may be bold to affirm, That there is no g round for the Question; and that no Two Things ever do, or can present themselves to our Consideration, so as to be perfectly Equal and Indifferent to us: It frequently happens indeed, that the Difference is very small and inconsiderable; but still some difference there is; something we apprehend in One, and not in the Other, which casts the Scale, and draws us on to a Choice; though the Motion be so gentle, that we scarce feel it; and the Motive so slender, that we know not how to express, and can very hardly give ourselves any account of it. But still certain it is, that were a Man evenly poized between Two Desires, he would never choose at all: For all Choice implies Inclination of the Mind, and all Inclination supposes Inequality.  
Another very necessary Direction in this Matter, is, That of consulting with our Friends, 
Consultation.  and taking good Advice. For there is great danger in acting upon our own heads, and depending entirely upon ourselves; Others will see further, and judge better of our Affairs, than Partiality and Concern will suffer Us to do. Now in this Point of Consulting, there are Two Cautions very necessary to be observed for the prudent management of ourselves, and the making this method turn to account with us.  
The First regards the Choice of fit Persons to Advise with: For Many are much better let along than applied to, and a Man is as highly concerned to be upon his Guard, and conceal his Designs from Some sort of People, as he is to communicate them, and address for Counsel to Others. Those then, who are proper for such purposes, must First of all be Men of Integrity and Fidelity, that is, fit to be trusted; and then they must be Men of sound Sense, Sober and Discreet, Wise and Experienced; otherwise they will not be fit to Direct. Honesty and Sufficiency are the Two Indispensable qualifications of good Counsellors; and indeed, to These we may add a Third Consideration which ought to weigh with us very much in our Choice; and This is, That neither They themselves, nor any of their Relations, or particular Friends, be at all concerned in the matter we consult about. For, though you may possibly Reply to this, That I have sufficiently prevented any Mischiefs of that kind, by providing already, that they should be Persons of Integrity, and whoever is so, will not be biased by his own, or his Friend's Interest; yet to that I must rejoin, in justification of this Advice; First, That Honesty so staunch, and firm, and Philosophical, as shall be Proof against all the Impressions of Advantage, is to be met with in very few. It is indeed what ought to be; but as the World goes, it is rather to be wished for, than found and practised. And Secondly, Allowing the Party we Consult, to have attained this Perfection of unmovable Sincerity; yet it is neither Wisdom, nor Kindness, nor good Manners, to drive him to such Difficulties, and such Anxieties of heart, as the ask his Advice in such Circumstances must needs involve him in. This is what we call putting him in between the Millstones, where he must either crush himself, or us.  
The other part of Caution, requisite upon these occasions, regards the receiving Advice, when our Counsellors are chosen. And this must be sure to have a patiented Hearing, and kind and grateful Entertainment allowed it; we should follow and put it in practice betimes, and not delay, till we are reduced to Extremities; we should consider and proceed upon it with Judgement and Candour, and be well pleased that our Friends should speak their Minds freely, and declare the Truth, though it happen to be severe and unpalatable to us. When we have taken our Measures according to it, in full confidence of the Prudence and Friendship with which it was given, we must not afterwards repine, or be sorry that we have been guided by it, though the Event fall short, or prove contrary to our Expectations. For it is a very common thing for good Counsel to be very unsuccessful. But a Wise Man ought to take greater Satisfaction in proper Measures, and prudent Conduct, though the Consequence be calamitous; than in the greatest good fortune imaginable, when his Measures were false and ill-adjusted; When as the Historian observes of Marius; 
* Sic correcta Marij temeritas gloriam ex culpâ invenit.  The Rashness of the General was corrected by the Event, and his fault received Honour and Commendation. It is below a Man of Sense, and agreeable to the Character of Vulgar and Ignorant Souls only, to sit down and wish they had done otherwise; and, after the maturest Deliberation, and the best choice their case will admit, to fancy they took a wrong Course: For such People in their Crosses and Disappointments, only weigh the Reasons for the contrary Methods, without having Greatness or Presence of Mind to counterbalance These, with Those other, once more forcible Arguments, which induced them to act as they did. Thus much was not amiss, I thought, to be hinted briefly for the use of those who want, and ask Advice; but as for the Persons addressed to, the Rules fit to be observed by Them in giving of it, shall be specified at large under the Head of Prudence. For indeed Counsel is a very considerable and extensive Branch of that Virtue.  
The Fifth Thing, which I apprehend advisable for the prudent Management of Affairs, 
Moderation between Fear and Assurance.  is a Steadiness of Temper; consisting in a middle state, between the Extremes of Confidence and Distrust; Assurance and Fearfulness. And this is necessary to be well Moderated, both with regard to ourselves, and Others.  
To repose too great Confidence in a Friend, and reckon ourselves absolutely sure of him, is very often Prejudicial to our Affairs; and to distrust his Ability, or his Inclination to do us Service, is offensive to Him; Insomuch, that where we entertain Suspicious, though never so just in themselves, yet it is not prudent to give any Demonstrations of our Jealousy. For no Man loves to be Disinherited, (because every Man loves to be thought to have Power and Sincerity) and therefore to betray our Distrust is sure to Displease; nay, likely to Provoke, and turn a Friend into an Enemy. But then, on the other hand we must be careful too, not to be so entirely depending, so lazy and secure in our Confidences, as not to be very much upon our Guard, except it be with some very choice and tried Friends: A Man never Rides safe without the Reins in his own Hand; only, the Skill of the Horseman must be shown, in neither letting them hang too slack, nor drawing them too stiff. A Man should never disclose all his Thoughts, and Intentions; but, so far as he thinks convenient to communicate his Mind, he should do it with Truth and Sincerity; he must by no means Deceive or Ensnare his Friend, and therefore let him tell True; but he must take heed too, that he be not Deceived or Abused Himself, and therefore he should take care not to tell All. He should follow that excellent Advice of our Blessed Master; to Marry the Serpent with the Dove; tempering and qualifying that Innocence and Simplicity which restrains a Man from hurting Others, with that Wisdom and Subtlety, which keeps him from injuring Himself; so standing upon one's Guard, and Defending one's Self against the Cunning Insinuations, and Treacherous Designs, and unseen Ambushments of our pretending Friends. For Policy and Stratagem is as commendable a Weapon, when used Defensively, as it is Dishonourable and Base, when Offensive. And therefore every Motion should be wary and well-advised; and in our Advances of Familiarity and Confidence, we must never engage so far, as not to secure a Retreat to ourselves, whenever our Inclination shall dispose, or the Necessity of our Affairs oblige us to it: Nay not only so, It is not enough, that our Retreat be possible, but it must be safe and easy, without any great Reluctancy in ourselves, or any Damage from Those, in whom we Confided.  
On the other hand, we should not so far be confident of ourselves, as to let this grow into Security and Presumption. If we have Friends, though they do not bear our whole Weight, yet it is not convenient to let go our Hold; nor for any Opinion, either of our own Abilities, or the prosperous Condition of our Affairs, to disdain Another's Help, or grow negligent and remiss in our Own Care. And yet this is oftentimes the Case of Men, who think no body so Wise as themselves, or have that Opinion of their own Power and Address, to imagine every thing will bow before, and truckle under them; that no body will dare to attempt any thing to their Prejudice or dissatisfaction; and from These fond Possessions, come to abate of their Pains, to despise all Care; and so at last are abominably overreached, surprised into Mischief and Ruin, and become a Jest and public Scorn.  
Another, and That indeed a very important piece of Advice, is, 
Tge katubg gikd ib Occasions.  To take every thing in its proper Time, while it is seasonable, and Occasion serves. And in order hereunto, we must be sure to avoid Precipitation, which is a mortal Enemy to Wisdom, the bane and confounder of all good Designs: And a Vice very usual, and much to be seared, among People in heat of Youth, and all others of a warm and sanguine Complexion. And in truth, the knowing how to take every thing in the Nick; to lay hold on every Opportunity and Advantage, and make the best of all times, and all means of Action, is one of the masterly Perfections of a Wise and Dextrous Manager. For we are to consider, that every thing hath its Season, and even the best things, as we may order them, may be irregular, and out of due Time. Now Hast and Hurry is the most contrary to that good Quality, that can possibly be imagined; for This disorders, and confounds All; and so at last spoils All. You know the common Proverb, 
* Canis festinans caecos parit catulos.  Hasty Bitch's bring blind Whelps. This Precipitation is usually the Effect of some Passion, which spurs us on too fast, and will not endure to wait till Matters are ripe for Execution; 
† Nam qui cupit, festinat; qui festinat evertit; unde festinatio improvida & caeca; duo adversissima rectae menti Celeritas & Ira.  The impatience of desire puts us upon hastening, and Hast disorders and undoes all; so that This is always improvident and blind; Hastiness and Anger are the Two things in the World most distant from a Sober and Judicious Mind. Such is the account generally to be given of it; though it cannot be denied, but these Hasty proceed are frequently owing to Weakness, and want of Judgement. Now the contrary Vice of Heaviness, and Sloth, and Negligence in our Affairs, which is sometimes mistaken for Solidity, and Thought, and wise Caution, is no less dangerous, and destructive to our Affairs, especially then, when all Preliminaries are adjusted, all Resolutions taken, and nothing remains but the Executive part. For it is well observed, That in Deliberation and Consultation a Man is allowed to spend a great deal of Time, because then every Particular is to be nicely weighed, every Advice canvassed, and out of All compared together, the Best to be pitched upon; but when we come to Action, the case is much otherwise, for the Mind is then supposed to be settled, and all Doubt over; upon which account it is, that we are commanded by the Masters of Wisdom, to to be Slow in Counsel, and Swift in Execution; to deliberate at leisure, but to sinish apace. It is true indeed, this Rule is not so universally efficacious, but that sometimes we see Events contrary to it. A Man stumbles upon Success, though he run headlong upon it; and proves as Fortunate in the Event, though the Time he took to consider, was very short; and the Resolves he made, as rash and imprudent, as they were hasty; But this is very seldom seen; and the few Instances we have of it are owing purely to Chance; And Chance is somewhat so distant from the ordinary course of Affairs, that a Man can never depend upon it, or govern himself by such Events. On the contrary, He should take great care, That these lucky Hits, like a winning hand, do not tempt us to run too great a Risque, and venture upon them boldly. For, commonly speaking, Gamesters give out Losers; and all they have to show for their daring Hastiness, is only That Proverb, Of Resolving in Hast, and Repenting at Leisure; Ruin and a fruitless Remorse being commonly the End of such inconsiderate Undertake.  
These than are the Two Extremes, which like Rocks must be avoided, and with equal care too; for if we Split upon Either, our Affairs will be shipwrecked and lost. It is as great a Fault to anticipate a fair occasion, and snatch it, while it is Green and Crude; as it would be to let it Whither and Rot in our Hands. The Former is a Defect most incident to Young Men; whose Spirits move briskly, and their Blood boils in their Veins; and whose Desires are so eager and impetuous, that they want Patience, and cannot be content to let Time and Providence bring things to Maturity, and work for them; and so these sprightly Men, by starting too quick, run, and catch nothing; The Latter is more proper to Stupid Men, the Cowardly and Irresolute; the Lazy and Unactive. For there is need of a Sprightly and Vigilant Soul to discern and to lay hold on favourable Junctures; but then at the same time that the Soul must be awake, we must see, that it be not Restless and Impatient. A Man must look before him; descry Opportunities at a distance; keep his Eye constantly upon them; observe all the motions they make towards him; make himself ready for their approach; and, lying thus upon the catch, when he sees his time, lay fast hold, and not let go again, till he hath done his Business.  
The Seventh Direction I would give at present, 
Industry and Fortune.  is for a Man to govern himself well, and do his Duty to the Two great Disposers, and Superintendants of all Human Affairs; Industry I mean, or which in this place comes to the same thing, Virtue, and Fortune. It hath long been matter of Controversy, which of These carries the greatest Sway; and the Question never was or will be decided to the Satisfaction of all People; for some have a greater respect for One, and some for the Other. Thus much at least is past all doubt; that both the One and the Other do a great deal; both have Power and Credit; and both have a Title indisputable to show for it; for nothing can be more palpably false, than that either of these Two does All, and the other Nothing. Perhaps indeed Matters would go better, if it were not thus; and Men have reason to wish, That the whole Authority were vested in one of them singly. For than we should know what to trust to. Then our Task would be easy, because all our Thought and Diligence would be fixed, and determined to one Object; whereas now we float between both, the Distraction of the Mind renders our Attempts infinitely laborious and full of hazard; and we can very hardly attend to both, and bring them friendly to conspire together. Daily Experience proves this Truth to us; for usually those who are very much taken up with the One, disregard and perfectly despise the Other. Thus the Young and Sanguine, the Forward and Daring Men keep Fortune in their Eye, and lay the main stress there, as you see plainly by their large Hopes, and the mighty Successes they promise themselves in every Undertaking: And Fortune often rewards this Respect they pay her, and declares them her Favourites, by the many Prodigious and most Surprising things wrought by them. On the Other hand, Men in Years, whose Blood is cold and heavy, and They consequently calm and slow, place all their Expectations in Industry: And it cannot be denied, but These act the more reasonably of the Two. If a Man were disposed to compare them both together, and observe what can be alleged to determine his Choice on either side; we may state the Matter very fairly Thus. He that depends upon Industry, takes the Safest Side, the more Virtuous, and the more Reputable: For admit, that Fortune run counter, and spitefully defeat all his Diligence; yet is there still this Satisfaction left, that he hath made no false Steps, that he suffered in his proper Post, doing his Duty; and that he hath acquitted himself, as became a Wife and an Honest Man. Those that take the other course, are in great danger of waiting and hoping in vain: But if all should succeed to their hearts desire, yet still this is none of Their doing; nor is there really any Credit or Commendation due to them for it. But indeed, Wisdom takes a middle Course; she advises no Man entirely to devote himself to either of these; and though One may be preferred, yet not to that degree, as to bring the Other into absolute Neglect and Contempt. For since Neither can be excluded from our Affairs, it is fit we should allow Both a place in our Regard; and indeed they are often beholding to one another; and an observing Man will easily discern a great deal of Mutual Assistance, and a very good Understanding between them. We must take care then to discharge our part to Both, but Both do not challenge our Respects alike. For the Preference is abundantly on the side of Industry; for according to that old Motto, 
* Virtute duce, comite Fortunà.  Virtue should lead, and Fortune go along with us.  
There is yet one necessary Caution behind, which is, In all our Behaviour to act with Discretion. For This seasons every Action, and gives it an agreeable Relish. Now Discretion is not any One Particular Quality, but a Large and Comprehensive Virtue; that mingles with every part of our Duty. Indiscretion spoils all; and the very best Actions, if tainted with it, lose all their Beauty, and Commendation. If a Man design an Act of Beneficence or Charity, This is necessary to direct it; for neither all Kindnesses are fit to be done; nor all sorts of Persons fit to receive them. If a Man would vindicate or excuse himself, he must do it discreetly; for there are some ways of Apologizing, which in effect are Bills of Indictment against one's Self; and increase the Suspicion, instead of clearing our Innocence. If a Man would pay Civilities, and appear courteous and well-bred; he must distinguish and moderate himself here too; otherwise he will run into the Excess of Foppery and Affectation; or degenerate into Clownish Rudeness; and the same may be said of Offering, or Accepting, or any other Instance of Courtesy and Conversation; or indeed of Virtue in general; for without this Prudence, and discreet Managery, even Virtue, and the best Intentions, can never recommend, nay, can scarce justify themselves to the Spectators.   

CHAP. XI. The Fruits, or Good Effects of Wisdom.  
The First, Living in a constant Readiness for Death.  
THE Day of our Death is the Principal and most Important, of any that belongs to us; 
The Day of Death.  That which gives the finishing Struck, and fixes the Character upon all the rest; for indeed all the Actions of our whole Life must be submitted to this Test. This is most truly what we commonly call it, The Great Trial; The Essay, that distinguishes our Alloy and True Standard; and it is in the good Success of this Trial, that we are to expect the greatest Fruit of all our Studies. In order to make a true Judgement of Life, we must of necessity inform ourselves what sort of Conclusion it hath; For the End completes and crowns the Work; and as a Good Death is an Honour to our whole Life, so an Ill one casts back Infamy, and sullies all that went before. You can never give a Just Character of the Player, till his Part be at End; and the Case of Common Life is so far the same, that the Management of the Last Act is incomparably the most difficult of any, that belongs to either of them. Epaminondas, one of the Bravest Men that ever Greece bred, when his Opinion was asked, To which of the Three, he thought the Preference due, Chabrias, Iphicrates, or Himself; made answer, That this was a Question incapable of being resolved; For (says he) the Man that would determine justly of such a Competition for Honour, must stay till he hath seen how we all Three dye. The Reason is evident; because every other Action of a Man's Life is capable of Hypocrisy and Dissimulation; but in this Last Scene alone All is Natural, and no room left for Counterfeit or Disguise. 

* 
Nam verae voces tum demum pectore ab imo  
Ejiciuntur, & eripitur Persona, manet Res.  Lucret. Lib. 3.  For than men's Words will with their Thoughts agree;  
And, all the Mask pulled off, show what they be.  Creech.  
Fortune in truth seems to waylay us here; to drive us upon this as her last Reserve; to make the utmost Effort upon our Virtue; and in one moment overturn all that Character and Credit, which we have for many Years with infinite Toil, and Anxiety, been setting up. Oh what a Triumph it would be then, to make a Man expire with Laberius his Exclamation; 
† Nimirum hâc die unâ plus vixi mihi, quàm vivendum fuit.  I have lived this one day more, than it was for my Honour and Advantage to have lived! So truly as well as wisely, so every way worthy of Solon, was that Observation made to Croesus, which one of the Potes hath illustrated thus: 

⁂ 
— Scilicet ultima sempet  
Expectanda dies homini, dicique beatus  
Ante obitum nemo, supremaque funera debet.  — Man must censured be by his Last Hour,  
Whom truly we can never Happy call,  
Before his Death, and closing Funeral.  Sandys.  
'Tis without all dispute a most Excellent Attainment, to have learned how to die: It is the Study of true Wisdom, and that in which all its Rules, 
Of knowing how to die.  and all its Labours determine: He that hath laid out his whole Life upon it, hath put it to no ill use; and He, who among all the rest of his Qualifications is not Master of This, hath thrown away all his Time and Pains to no manner of purpose. That Man can never Live well, who knows not how to Die well; and he hath lived to very good purpose, who makes a happy End, (says Seneca.) A Man can no more govern and direct his Actions as he ought, who does not keep Death in his Eye; than an Archer can shoot well, who never looks at the Mark. In one word, The Art of Dying as becomes us, is the Art of Liberty, and an Easy Mind; the way to get above all Fear, and to live in perfect Happiness and Tranquillity; Without this there is no Pleasure in Life; it is impossible indeed there should; for who can enjoy That with Peace and Satisfaction, which he esteems most valuable and dear, and is tormented with perpetual anxious Fear of losing every Moment?  
Now the First and Principal Step toward this, is to make it our Care and constant Endeavour, that our Vices may die before us; and then our next Care must be, to live in constant Readiness and Expectation of dying ourselves. Who can express the happy Condition of that Man, who hath husbanded his Talon, and finished the Business of Life, before Death approach to interrupt him? So that when he comes to die, he hath nothing else to do but to die; no occasion to ask longer time; no farther Business for this Body; no need of any thing; but can walk out of the World, pleased and satisfied, like a Guest after a full Meal: All this I take to be comprehended in the Notion of our being always in a Readiness for Death: There remains yet One Qualification more to be attained, which is the being Willing, as well as Ready; for no Man dies well, who goes out of the World with such Loathness and Reluctancy, that it is mere matter of Constraint; and plain, he would fain, but cannot, stay here any longer.  
The several Sentiments and Sorts of Behaviour, which Men are capable of with regard to Death, 
Five Sorts of Behaviour with regard to Death.  may, in my Opinion, be reduced to these Five that follow: 

1. They may Fear and Avoid it, as the Last and greatest Evil.  
2. They may expect and wait for it with great Easiness, and Patience, and Resignation of Mind, as for a Thing which they look upon as Natural, Unavoidable, and not only Necessary, but also Reasonable to be undergone.  
3. They may despise it, as a Matter Indifferent, and of no great Concern to them.  
4. They may wish for it, pray for it, make toward it, as the only Safe Harbour which can give them Rest and Protection from the Troubles of This Life; nay, as that which will not only be a Deliverance, but a Happiness; a mighty Advantage, as well as a perfect Security.  
5. They may bring it upon Themselves.    
Now, if we examine these Particulars, the Second, Third, and Fourth will appear Commendable and Good; the Thoughts and Resentments of a Virtuous and a Judicious Mind; though it must be allowed, that as they differ from each other, so they are expected to move and affect the Man differently, according to his present Circumstances. For All of them are not commendable equally, and at all times. But for the First and Last, they never are or can be so at all; as being the Vicious Extremes of Weakness and Want of Virtue; for how different soever the Effects may appear, This is the same common Cause of them both. I shall enlarge a little, and try to illustrate each of these Particulars, in this Chapter.  
The First is what no understanding Person hath ever pretended to approve, 
Fear of Death.  though indeed it be the Practice (the Failing I ought to say,) of almost all the World. And what can be a greater Reproach? what a more undeniable Evidence of the Weakness of Mankind, than that Every body in a manner should be guilty of That, which No body dares undertake to defend? But on the contrary, against Those, who labour under this painful Folly, in Tenderness for Themselves; or are thus concerned upon the account of Others, we can never want Plenty of Arguments. Among others, These following Considerations may perhaps do something toward softening the Approach of our own Death, or that of our Friends to us. 
The effect of vain Opinion.  There is not in the World any Calamity, which Mortals have such amazing Notions, and live in such constant Terror of, as Death; and yet it is very evident, there is nothing they call a Misfortune, dreaded upon such Poor, such Insignificant Grounds; nay, I must revoke those words, Dreading and Misfortune too; and dare venture to affirm, there is not any thing which ought to be received with greater Satisfaction, and a more resolved Mind. So that we must be forced to confess, in despite of all the Sophistry of Flesh and Blood to the contrary, that This is a mere Vulgar Error; Opinion hath charmed and captivated all the World; for Reason hath no hand at all in it. We take it upon trust from the Ignorant and Unthinking Multitude; and believe it a very great Evil, because They tell us so; but when Wisdom assures us, that it is a Deliverance and sure Repose from all the Evils that can possibly befall us; the only Haven where we can lie safely, after the Waves and Storms of a Troublesome Tossing World, we turn the deaf Ear, and believe not one word she can say. Thus much is certain: Death, when actually present, never did any body hurt; and none of those many Millions, who have made the Experiment, and now know what it is, have made any Complaints of this nature concerning it. If then Death must be called an Evil, it hath this to say in its own Vindication; That of all the Evils which are, or ever were in the World, This is the only one that does no body harm; and in truth, the mighty Dread of it proceeds merely from ghastly and monstrous Ideas, which Men's vain Imaginations form of it at a distance. There is nothing of Foundation or Reality at the bottom: 'tis all Opinion and Fancy; nay, 'tis the very Instance, in which Opinion pretends most to set up against Reason; and attempts to fright us out of our Wits, by showing the hideous Vizor of Death: For, Reason to fear it there can be none, because we are so perfectly ignorant what it is. How Unaccountable is our Concern, how almost Impossible indeed, for a Thing, of which we have little or no Notion? Upon which account, He, who had Apollo's Testimony for the Wisest Man living, said, that To fear Death, was to pretend to be more knowing than one really was; and a vain Affectation of Wisdom; for it was to make the World believe a Man understands a thing, which neither He, nor any body else understands: And we find, that this was his real Sense, by the Testimony his Practice gave to it. For when his Friends importuned him to plead for his Life, and justify himself against the Calumnies of his Accusers, the Address he made upon that Occasion, we are told, was to this Effect. 
 Gentlemen. If I should make it my request, That you would not put me to Death, I am under some apprehensions of ask a Punishment, instead of a Favour; and suing to my own Disadvantage. For I must ingenuously confess, I do not at all know what it is to Die; nor what Good or Ill is consequent upon it. They who fear Death must in reason presuppose some Notices of it, for my own part, I declare I have none; nor can I tell at all, either what sort of Passage that is, which leads into the other World; or how Matters stand there; so that for aught I know to the contrary, both the One and the Other, the Condition and the Way to it, may be exceeding Desirable, and full of Felicity. As for those things, which I know to be Evil, such as Injustice and Wrong, I have the greatest abhorrence of them, and avoid them with all possible Circumspection and Care; But for such as I know nothing of, I know as little how to Hate, or to Fear them. Now Death I own is one of These; and therefore, Gentlemen, I leave the Matter wholly to You. For really I cannot be satisfied, whether is best for me; to Die or not to Die; and therefore I hope you will Order what is really best; and I am perfectly content you should determine and dispose of me, as you think fit.  
And why this mighty Trouble and Concern upon the account of Death? 
Of Weakness.  This in the First Place is most despicable Weakness, and scandalous Cowardice. The merest Woman, the most tender-hearted Wretch alive can Compose herself in a few Days, and put an End to the justest Passion, for the Loss of a Husband, or a Child; and what a Disparagement is it to Reason, and Wisdom, that They should not effect that presently, which in a little while will do itself? The most Ignorant and poor Spirited Man alive can do it with the help of Time; And why should not a Wise and Brave Man do it without that Advantage? For what is Wisdom, and Resolution, and Gallantry of Soul good for, or how shall we distinguish it, if it do not quicken a Man's pace, and render him more expert and dextrous; so that he shall be able to do Greater things, and to dispatch them with greater ease and speed, than Others, who are destitute of these Accomplishments? From the same Weakness and Irresolution it is, that the Generality of Dying Men, are never sensible of their last Hours; but still flatter themselves with Expectations of perfect Recovery, or longer Delay at least; and perhaps, there is no one passage of our Lives comparable to this part for Cheat and Delusion; none that equally soothes, and amuses us with vain hopes. Not that I ascribe this wholly to Weakness neither; for possibly Vanity may contribute a great deal toward it. We look upon our Death, as a matter of mighty Consequence, a strange and most important Revolution; in which the whole World is concerned; and can scarce be brought to imagine, that Providence will permit a Calamity, in which all Nature must suffer, and this orderly and Beautiful System of the Universe End, and Perish. So extravagant are the Notions we entertain of ourselves, and of the importance we are of to God and the World.  
Besides all this; 
Of Injustice.  such a Man is evidently guilty of Injustice. For if Death be really a Good and a Desirable thing, Wherefore are we afraid of it? And if it be otherwise, Why do we make it worse? This is to aggravate and multiply upon ourselves the very Thing we pretend most to be afraid of; and to create new Pains, and Torments, which Death knows nothing of, nor would ever bring upon us. This is a foolhardy Madness, like his, who, when an Enemy had Rob him of one part of his Goods, threw the rest into the Sea, to show how little he valued the Injury his Plunderer had done him.  
Lastly. 
'Tis prejudicial to Life.  To Live in fear of Death is the greatest Injury a Man can be guilty of to Himself; the spightfullest way of destroying his own Life. For no Man, who hath this Dread perpetually upon him, can ever have any tolerable Enjoyment of himself or the World. He only lives truly free and at ease, who is got above the Fears of Death: And on the other hand, Life were no better than perpetual Slavery, if the Liberty of Dying were taken away. Death is in effect the only Foundation, and Support of all the Freedom we can make any Pretensions to; The sure, and common Retreat from all our Sufferings and Hardships. A Man therefore must needs be very wretched and uneasy, (and yet thus wretched are almost all Mankind) who takes off the Quiet and Enjoyment of Life, by an anxious Concern and Fear to die; and loses all the Benefit of Death too, by an immoderate Fondness, and afflicting Solicitude for Life.  
And yet, as full of Discontent as People generally are with the present Order and Constitution of Things; what loud Complaints, what Eternal Murmur, may we very reasonably suppose, would have filled their Mouths, if it had been otherwise? How would Nature and Providence have been cursed, condemned, and blasphemed, if Men had been under a fatal Necessity of dwelling always here, whether they would or no; and no such kind Relief, as Death is, had been provided for them? Think with yourself, how much more Insupportable, how much more Grievous and Burdensome a Life must needs be, without any Period assigned for it; than that Life we now lead, which is attended with a Necessity of leaving it, but of laying down the Load that oppresses us along with it too? To this purpose it is, that the Poets tell us, Chiron refused to be Immortal, when it was proffered him, upon receiving Information from the God of Time (his Father Saturn) what hard Conditions the Gift was clogged with. On the other hand, What would become of the World, if there were not something of Pain and Bitterness, which should discourage us, and create in us some Aversion to Dying? There is no doubt to be made, but were it not for this Check upon our Nature, Men would run out of the World eagerly, greedily embrace Death, and upon every little Pett take Sanctuary here, without any manner of Judgement or Distinction, how far the Provocation ought to carry them. We must therefore upon second Thoughts confess, that this Mixture is made with Discretion; sit to preserve us in a due Moderation; so as neither to be fond of Life, nor peevishly weary of it; and so again, as neither to be afraid of Death, nor to court and hasten to it; both the One and the Other are tempered with Sweet, and allayed with Bitter; enough of the One to recommend and make it Tolerable; and so much of the Other too, as will keep it from being the Object of any Passion in Extremes. So necessary are the Ingredients, so just the Proportions; so skilful, and withal so tender of our Good, the Hand that mingled them.  
Now the Remedy, which the Vulgar prescribe against the Fears I have been condemning, is much too dull and stupid; For They advise a Man to banish all Uneasinesses of this kind, by striving to forget the Occasion of them, and drawing off the Mind to something else. 'Tis upon this Account, that you find them always bid their Friends never Think of Death, and can by no means bear to hear it Named: But sure This is for many Reasons a very improper Prescription. For, in the first place, such an odd careless Temper as This, is somewhat so contrary to a Man of Parts and Judgement, somewhat so like a State of Thoughtlessness and Insensibility, that none but the Ignorant and the Heavy seem capable of the Medicine: Application and Good Sense cannot Dose away a Life at this rate. But if every Body could bear the Physic, yet what Operation, what good Effect is to be expected from it? where would all this End at last, and what a miserable Account should we find when we come to the upshot, and feel how dear this Course hath cost us? For do but imagine the Condition of a Man surprised by Death; the Tears, the Agonies, the Groans and Lamentations, the Rage, the Despair, in a word, the inexpressible Confusion of being seized all on the sudden, by a Merciless, Invincible, and Unseen Enemy. These are such dreadful Circumstances, that Wisdom sure gives much safer and better Advice, in directing Men to stand their Ground; to face their Enemy; to observe his Approaches; and provide for the Combat. Nay rather indeed, to encounter him perpetually, by following a Method the direct contrary to That of the Vulgar; which is, by fixing their Eyes and Thoughts steadily upon Death; to converse, and grow intimately acquainted with it; to render it gentle and tame by Familiarity and long Use. To carry the Idea and the strongest Representations of it that we can possibly form, constantly about with us. To harden ourselves in the Expectation of it; and that, not only in Times of Sickness, and Danger, where we have reason to suspect ourselves; but in our most confirmed Health; in the midst of what we call Safety. Death should not be the Companion of our black, and sullen, and melancholy Hours only; but of our greatest Gaieties, best Humour, and most solemn Entertainments and Delights. The Sauce to every Dish; the Burden to every Song should be this Reflection; That we are always in danger, set as fair Marks, and that Death is aiming at us; That several others have been snatched away, who thought themselves as far out of the reach of his Dart, as we can suppose ourselves to be now in the height of all our Jollity; That an Accident, which happened at One Time, or to One Person, may as well happen to Another: And thus we are advised by the Wisest Men, to check our Pleasures, and abate our blind Security, by imitating, as well as supplying by These never unseasonable Meditations, that Ancient Custom of the Egyptians, who at their Feasts served up a Death's-head; and that of Christians, and other Persuasions too, who contrive, that their Burying-places shall join to their Temples, or be in some other Parts the most conspicuous and frequented of any: The Original whereof seems to have been, That these Public Monuments might awaken Men's Minds, and preserve the Reflections and Remembrances of Death always fresh and vigorous. Where Death awaits us, is very uncertain; and therefore we should expect to meet it every where, and every moment; and make such constant and sure Provision against its coming, that let it steal upon us never so Cunningly, never so Suddenly, it may sinned us always in readiness. This is no such mortifying Exercise, as some fond imagine; quite otherwise, it rather sweetens Life, and recommends its Enjoyments, by setting us above the Fears, and Disappointments, and amazing Terrors, which Worldly and Sensual Men feel and labour under. It abates our Losses, by foreseeing and preparing for them; and it doubles our Advantages, by looking upon them, as Clear Gains, and adding a pleasing sort of Surprise to the Fruition. Thus the Poet very justly hath observed to his Friend: 

* 
Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum,  
Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur, Hora.  Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. 4.  While 'midst strong Hopes and Fears thy Time doth waste,  
Think every Rising Sun will be thy last.  
And so the grateful unexpected Hour  
Of Life prolonged, when come, will please thee more.  Creech.  
But, that we may not be thought guilty of Injustice, in condemning People unheard; let us examine a little into the Grievances they complain of, and the Excuses they make for themselves upon this occasion; and than it will appear, how frivolous and foolish all the Apologies are, by which they would palliate their Fears, and put some specious Colour upon their Melancholy Apprehensions. And here you may observe throughout, that Men are generally ashamed to own their being afraid to die, simply considered; and therefore they bethink themselves of some sad aggravating Circumstance or other; by which they hope to justify their uneasy Dread for themselves, or their inordinate Grief for their Friends, who have been taken from them.  
The First of these is Dying Young; and This they think a very lamentable Case; for what Reflection can be more disturbing, than that Death should snatch them rudely before their Time; that he should crop this lovely Fruit, while green, and in the Bud; and now down the Glory of the Field, before it was ripe for the Sickle? This indeed is a Complaint most usual, and most becoming Mean and Vulgar Souls, who measure every thing by the Length; and count nothing valuable, but that which lasts a great while: Whereas on the Contrary, we find, that Things rare, and excellent, and exquisite in their kind, are generally the most fine, and subtle, and subject to Dissolution and Decay. 'Tis esteemed a Masterpiece in Art, to contract a great deal into a narrow room; and God and Nature have so far taken the same Method in their choicest Pieces, that a Man would almost think it a Fate upon Extraordinary Persons to be short-lived. Eminent Virtue, Great Parts and Attainments, and Old Age very seldom meet together. But the solid Comfort is, that the true Estimate of Life is to be taken from its Use and End; and if it be well employed and well finished, all the rest hath its due proportion. Years are good for nothing but to make a larger Sum; nor does the Number of them contribute one whit to the rendering Life more or less Happy, more or less Desirable. But the shortest Term is capable of Virtue and Felicity, and hath its proper Perfections, which are no more increased by Quantity, than the Largeness of the Circumference makes the Perfection of a Circle: The Lest Round is as truly so as the Greatest; and as the Figure in Lines, so the Quality and Manner in Life, does all. A Man of small Limbs and Low Stature, is as truly a Man, as the Tallest Giant that ever Story described; and to be short, neither Men nor their Lives are to be Estimated by their Bulk and Length; but by having All their Parts entire, and every Qualisication requisite or possible to the Condition of their Nature.  
Another could be well enough content to Die, but to do this in a remote Country, at a distance from all his Relations; to be cut off with a Violent Death, and have his Carcase lie Unburied, and stink above ground; This is what he cannot bear; and sure every body must allow such a Death to have a world of Horror in it, in comparison of that gentle and easy Passage which Those have, who die in Peace and Quietness; by the slow and gradual Decays of Age, or such as we call dying a Natural Death at least, decently and in their Beds; with their Relations and Friends about them; taking and giving the Last solemn Ceremonies of Parting; Comforting Those they leave behind, and receiving Support, and Assistance, and Consolation from them. Now how Reasonable or Natural soever these Notions may seem, 'tis evident all Mankind are not of the same Opinion. How many Brave Men do we see every day, who follow the Wars, and contend for the Post of Honour in the Engagement, without any of these tender Thoughts? They put themselves in the way of Dying, when Life and Vigour are at their highest pitch; they go into a Foreign Land for Graves, and think the Heaps of Slain, and the Throng of Fallen Enemies the noblest Monument; so far are They from grieving that They cannot Lie among their Family and their Friends. And as for the Terrors of a Violent Death, they are exceeding Childish and Vain; and would easily be cured, could we prevail with ourselves to see Things as they are. For, as little Children Cry and Tremble at Men in Vizors, but are presently quiet and lay aside their Fears, assoon as you uncover their Faces; so it is here. Remember then, Man, That Fire, and Sword, and all other Instruments of Violence, and Casualties, and surprising Aggravations of this kind are only the hideous Disguise of Death; a Vizor put on to affright us; but all this Effect is owing to the dismal Ideas we form to ourselves; for take but off this Mask, and you will sinned that Death is always one and the same. And he, who Dies in Battle, or is Burnt in his Bed; he that falls in an instant by the hand of an Executioner, and he that Expires upon a Rack, meet all in the selfsame State, though they do not come to it the same way, and die the very Death that Women and Children, and all that seem to us to Departed in the Easiest, Gentlest, and most Peaceable manner, Dye. The Difference lies only in the Pomp, and Noise, the Preparation and Prefacing of Death; but let the Ceremonies be what they will, in the Substance and Thing itself, there neither is, nor can be any Difference at all.  
Another sore Grievance is their Concern to leave the World. But what occasion of Grief is there in This? Alas! here is nothing new; all your Curiosity hath been satisfied over and over; and You have seen all that is to be seen already. Each Day is equal and exactly alike to every other Day. Four and twenty Hours brings the World round, the same Succession of Light and Darkness: There is no fresh Sun to be Lighted up, nor any other Course or Revolution, than what Nature hath Traveled in from the very Beginning. But put the longest Period the thing can bear, and One Year is sure to present you with all the Vicissitudes: In the Change of these Seasons you see the several Stages of the World and your own Life; The Sprightliness of Infancy, and a new Born Universe in the Spring; The Gay and Cheerful Youth of Summer; The Maturity and Manhood of Autumn; and the Decrepit Age, the Decays and Deformity of a dying World in Winter. All the Trick is to play this Farce over again, and begin where this time Twelvemonth we left off. So that they who Live longer, do not see any more Objects than Others; but only more of the same Objects oftener repeated to them.  
But Friends and Relations are very dear to us, and it is a hard thing to part with These. Never fear, Man, thou wilt find a great many of thy Family and Acquaintance in the Place whither thou art going. Thou art rather parted from thy Friends, here at present; for the Number of Those thou leavest behind, is not comparable to Those thou wilt meet in another World. Thy Acquaintance will be infinitely increased, and abundance of thy Kindred are there, whom yet thou hast never seen. All, who were too Little, or too Great; too Remote, or too much before thy Time, to be known and taken notice of here. And as for Those, whose Correspondence is sweet and valuable now, remember that the Separation is like to be very short; for They too are Travelling the same Road, and follow Thee apace to thy Journeys End.  
Oh! but a Man hath a Family of Dear Pretty Children, and what will become of These poor Orphans? What a World of Difficulties must all this sweet Innocence struggle with? How will They be Exposed for want of a Parent's Care? What a Prey will They be made, if They have Fortunes? And if They have none, How will They be Supported, or where will They find the Kindness of Inspection and Good Advice? For They who are Destitute of a Competence, and stand most in need of Friends, are least likely to have Their Assistance. This is surely, a very cutting Consideration, a natural Anxiety, and a necessary Consequence of those Tender Regards though due to a Man's Posterity.  
But, hark you my Friend; consider again, whose Children These are; Are They not God's as well as Yours? Nay, Are They not His a great deal more than Yours? He hath an Original Right in them; He is Their True, Their First Father; You are only so in a subordinate Sense; as One who by his Permission were an Instrumental Cause of Their Being. He is able to Provide for his own Family; never fear it; All Your Care without His Blessing is Vain and of no Significance while you Live; but though His Assistance be necessary to You; Yours is not in any degree so to Him. He will feel no Difficulty at all in Sustaining These Orphans, when You are taken from Them. Every Condition, and all Times are equal to Omnipotence. And if You cannot question His Power, Have You any pretence to doubt His Disposition? You have daily Experience of This; They Subsist by His Bounty, even now; His Bowels are not less Tender than Yours; and as He is more truly and properly, so is he a more, Infinitely more Affectionate Father to Them, than Yourself are; It is most absurd to think, that You can either Do, or Wish better for Them, than Herald Nay, if upon any other Consideration such an Imagination could be endured, yet even common Experience contradicts it. Do but observe the Circumstances of such as seem to be left entirely upon Providence; destitute of all Human Advantages; and you shall sinned more thriving Men in the World, more that have been raised to great Honours, and eminent Posts, and plentiful Fortunes, who have had nothing but His Favour, and their Own Industry to depend upon, than Others, who begun upon good Funds, and thought They might reasonably promise Themselves much greater Success. So particularly, so visibly, is He the Father of the Fatherless.  
But it may be you are afraid to venture into this dark Place all alone. Never trouble yourself; you need not fear a Solitary Journey. That Road is always very full of Company. There are abundance of Men, that Dye when you do; nay more than you can imagine, set out the very same Hour with You.  
To be short, You are going to a place, where you shall be sure never to grudge at the Loss of this Life. For what room, what pretence can there be for any such Discontent? If a Man, who hath felt all the Troubles of Life, had it in his Choice, whether he would live the same over again; without all Controversy he would refuse it. And, if before one is first called into Being he could See and Know what he is going about, he would rather choose to sleep still in Nonentity. 
* Vitam nemo acciperet, si daretur Scientibus.  Were People throughly acquainted with the Conditions, and Encumbrances of Living, no body (says a Wiseman) would accept Life upon those Terms. What ground of Dissatisfaction then can occur to Them who have felt and suffered under These? What Temptation can They have to wish a Second Torment, or to repine, that Their First was not of a longer Continuance? The Old Philosophers fixed upon this Argument for Comfort, and thought it an irrefragable one. Either we are Nothing at all after Death, or we are in a much better State than at Present; and Either way we have Reason to be well Content to Die, because Either way Death puts an End to all our Suffering and Pain. There is, I confess a great Alteration in the Case, when we come to consider the matter as Christians; because thus we are assured that there is a State, infinitely Worse than the most exquisite, and most durable Miseries of this Life. But then This is what we have fair warning of, and may avoid if we please. A Christian who Lives as he ought, is better fortified with Arguments against the Fear of Death, than any Other Person can be. And They who will not Live so, have no reason to repine; for even thus, the shorter the Life, the less Measure of Their Iniquities; and the Damned Themselves would not wish to Live again, but upon a supposition, that they should Live better than before. But be that State to which Death turns such Men over never so dreadful, yet since this is a Misery of their own making, it comes not within the compass of our present Argument, which only undertakes to show, That Death hath nothing formidable, so far as Nature and Providence are concerned in it. And That comes to thus much, and no more. You came out of Death, that is, out of a State of Insensibility, into Life, a Scene of Business and Action; and this you did without any Horror, or Passion, or the least Disorder; You are now going back again into the Former Condition of Sleep and Inactivity. Travel then the way you came, with the same unconcernedness you did before. For after all, 
* Reverti unde veneris quid grave est?  What mighty Calamity can it be to return from whence you came, and where you lay hid for many Ages?  
It may be the Gastliness of Death affrights you, because Dying Persons make but a very ill Figure. 'Tis true, You see their Countenance discomposed, their Features distorted with Convulsions, and all their Body struggling and labouring under Agonies and Pains. But all This is only that ugly Vizor, which (as I said before) Death puts on to scare us; it is not Death itself in its own Natural Visage; for That hath nothing of Horror or Deformity, but is all Quietness and Composure. We send our Senses and Passions out to discover this unknown Land; and They, like cowardly Spies, bring us an ill Report of the Country. They never penetrated far enough to get true Intelligence; they speak nothing of their own Knowledge, but make a Report only from the common Rumour of Ignorant People, and their own Fears.  
But it snatches so many things away from Us, or rather it takes us away from Them; nay, takes us away from ourselves, removes us from all that we have been so long acquainted with, and accustomed to, and puts us in a State of Darkness and Horror; such as we have no knowledge of; and from this Condition of Light, shuts us up in Eternal Night: In a word, It is our End, the Ruin, the Dissolution of our Persons. These are the cutting Considerations, which Men aggravate to Themselves, and magnify the terrible Ideas. To all which we may return a sufficient Answer in one word; by saying, That Death being the necessary Law and Condition of Human Nature, from which there is no possibility of an Escape (as will be shown hereafter) it is to no purpose to dispute, or create these Uneasinesses to our own Minds; and wretchedly foolish, to torment ourselves with Fears of a Thing, which there is no getting quit of. Things that are doubtful and contingent may be a proper Object of Fear; but for those that are fixed and irreversible, we have nothing to do but to sit down, and expect, and prepare to meet them. But waving That, I rather choose to observe at present, how extremely mistaken these Men are in their Account; For the Matter is in very Truth, the direct Reverse of all the terrible Representations these Persons form to themselves. For Death, instead of taking away from us all that is valuable and dear, puts into our Possession all we are capable of receiving; Instead of taking us from ourselves, it enlarges us from our Confinement, and restores our Souls to perfect Liberty, and true Enjoyment: Instead of locking us up in the dark, it sets us in the clearest and brightest Light; and serves us as we use to deal by the best Fruits, when we take off the Skin, or Shell, or other Covering, that so we may see, and use them, and taste their Natural Excellence. It removes us out of a straight, inconvenient Dwelling, from a Dark, and Rheumatic, and Diseased Place, where we can see but a very little Spot of Heaven, and only receive Light by Reflection, and at a vast distance, through Two little Holes of our Eyes; into a Region of absolute Liberty, confirmed and uninterrupted Health; perpetual and incessant Light, a Sun that never sets, and Endless Day without any gloomy Intervals: 
* Aequaliter tibi splendebit omne Coeli latus. Totam lucem suo loco prope totus aspicies: quam nunc per angustissimas ocu●orum Vias procul intueris & miraris.  A Place where our Faculties shall be enlarged, and all Heaven will display itself to us; where we shall not only see Light, but dwell with it in its own proper Sphere. In a word, It delivers us from the very Thing we dread most, by making us Immortal, and putting a sinal and full Conclusion to that Death, which took place from the Instant we came into the World, and was finished at our Passage into Eternity. 
† Dies iste, quem tanquam extremum reformidas, aeterni natalis est.  For the Day we have such dreadful Apprehensions of, as if it were to be our Last, is really our First, the joyful Birthday into a Life, which can never have an End.  
We come now to consider the Second Sort of Resentment, which Men are affected with, upon the account of Death; which is, Waiting for, and entertaining it with contented and cheerful Minds, when it comes. This is indeed the Quality of a Good, a Gentle, and well-governed Spirit; and the Practice of it is peculiar to a plain, easy way of living; and to Persons, who, as they make the best of Life, and enjoy the Quiet of it, so know very well how to esteem it as it deserves; but still they make Reason the Standard of all their Affections and Actions; and, as they are well satisfied to stay here, so they readily obey, when Providence thinks fit to call them out of the World, This is a Medium very justly tempered, a Masterly Greatness of Soul; and such an Indifference to all here below, as a Life of Retirement and Peace seems best qualified for; and the Two Extremes between which it lies, are Desiring and Dreading; Courting and Running away from Death; accoring to that of the Poet: 

* Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes.  With Courage firm, and Soul sedate,  
Attend the Motions of thy Fate;  
And whether Death be far or near,  
Live free from eager Wish, and anxious Fear.   
Now these Extremes, except there be some very particular and uncommon Reason to give them countenance, are both of them Vicious and exceeding ; and when I come hereafter to speak of this Matter in its proper place, you will see, that nothing less than a very extraordinary Cause can render them so much as excusable. To desire and pursue Death is very criminal; for it is very unjust to throw away one's Life without a sufficient Reason; it is spiteful to the World, and injurious to our Friends, to grudge them the longer Use and Continuance of a thing, which may be serviceable to them: It is the blackest Ingratitude to God and Nature, thus to slight, and throw back again, the best and most valuable Present they can make us; as if it were a Trifle, or a Burden, not worth our keeping: It savours too much of Peevishness, and Pride; and shows us humoursome and difficult, when we cannot be easy, and bear the Lot that falls to our share; but will needs quit our hands of the Station God hath called us to, when there is nothing extraordinary to render it cumbersome. And on the other hand, to fear and flee Death, when summoned to it, is an Offence against Nature, Justice, Reason, and every Branch of our Duty; since Dying is Natural, Necessary, and Unavoidable; Reasonable and Just.  
First, It is Natural; 
Dying is Natural.  it is a part of that Great Scheme, by which the Order of the Universe is established and maintained, and the whole World lives and subsists. And who are We, that all this Regularity should be broken, and a new System contrived in Our Favour? Death is really one of the Principal and most Material Articles in the Constitution, and Administration of this vast Republic; and of infinite Use and Advantage it is, for determining the Continuance, and promoting a Constant Succession of the Works of Nature. The Failure of Life in One Instance propagates it afresh in a Thousand others.  

* Sic Rerum Summa novatur.  Thus Life and Death successive keep their round,  
Things die to live, and by decays abound.  
But, which comes nearer home, Death is not only a part of this Great Complex and Universal Nature; but of thy Own Nature in particular; and That every whit as essential a part, as that Birth which gave Thee Life. So that in cherishing an Aversion, and running away from This, thou attemptest to flee from thy own self. Thy Being is divided equally between Death and Life; These are the Two Proprietors, and each claims a share, and hath an indefeasible Right in every one of us. These are the Terms, upon which Thou were't created, and Life was given with a Purpose, and upon Condition of being taken away; rather indeed it was only lent, and, like all other Trusts or Debts, must be demanded back, and may be called in at pleasure. If then the Thoughts of Dying discontent Thee, consider, that the Hardship does not lie here; but carry thy Reflections higher, and be concerned that ever thou wast born. For, either there is no cause of Repining in either case, or else the Ground of all the Complaint lies in having lived at all. You had Neighbours Far, and purchased Life at the Market Price; which is, The laying it down again; no body hath it cheaper; and therefore they who do not like the Bargain, and are loath to go out again, should have refused at first, and never come into the World at all. But this is what Men, were they capable of such a Choice, would never do, if their Fondness of Life be so excessively great. The First Breath you drew bound you fast; and all the Advances you made toward a more perfect Life, were so many Steps toward Death at the same time. 

† Nascentes morimur, finisque ab origine pendet.  Asson as born we die; and our Live's End  
Upon its first Beginning does depend.  Manil. Ast. 4.  
To be concerned then, that we must Die; is to be concerned that we are Men, for every one that is so, is Mortal. And upon the strength of this Impression it was, that a Wise Man, when the News of his Son's Death was brought him, received it with all the Sedateness and seeming Unconcernedness that could be, and only made this calm Reply; I knew very well that my Child was Mortal. Since than Death is a thing so Natural, so Essential to all Nature in general, and contributes so much to the Order and Wellbeing of the Whole World; and since it is likewise so to your own Being, and the Condition of That in particular, why should you conceive such horrible Ideas, why hold it in such irreconcilable Detestation? In This you act in contradiction to Nature. I allow indeed, that the Fear of Pain is very Natural, but I cannot admit the same Plea for the Fear of Death. For how is it possible, that Nature should ever have infused into us a Principle of Hatred, and Dread, against an Ordinance of her own Institution, and such as she receives such a mighty Benefit from the due Execution of? And, as an incontestable Evidence, that she does not so, it appears plainly, that, where Nature works entire, without any Depravation or Restraint, there little or no Marks of this Passion are to be found. Little Children, for instance, and Brutes, who are not capable of being corrupted with Prejudice, are so far from betraying any Fear of Death, that they meet it cheerfully, and seem pleased to undergo it. The Gay and Smiling Countenances of these Creatures are enough to assure us, that Nature does not teach us to fear Death, but we learn That from some other hand. But all the Direction we have from Nature upon this occasion, is, to expect and wait for Death; and whenever it comes, to receive it with Submission and Cheerfulness, as considering, that it is of Nature's sending, and express appointment.  
Secondly. 
Necessary.  It is necessary; a Sentence passed for it, and irreversible; and Thou who distractest thy Soul with Fears, and bewailest this Fate of thine, art satisfied at the same time, that there is no possibility of avoiding it. And what more exquisite Folly can a Man be guilty of, than the tormenting himself industriously, when he knows 'tis to no purpose? Where do you find any Man so stupidly silly, to spend his Time and his Breath in Entreaties, and importunate Addresses, to One whom he knows incapable of granting, or inflexible and never to be prevailed upon for his Requests? Or to knock eternally at a Door, that will not, cannot be opened? And What more inexorable, more deaf to all our Supplications, than Death? If any Calamities be proper Objects of Fear, they are such as are barely Contingencies; which may indeed, but may not happen too. And Those that are capable of Remedy or Prevention, are fit to have our Thoughts and Care employed upon them. But Those that are fixed, and must come, (which is the Case of Death) we have nothing to do but to expect, and to provide for; and all that is to be done with that which cannot be cured, is to fortify our Souls, and resolve to endure it. The Ignorant and Inconsiderate fear and flee from Death; The Rash and Foolhardy courts and pursues it; The Wise Man waits its Approach, and is ready to follow and obey the Summons; but neither runs away from it, nor advances to meet it. But certainly our Lamentations are very Idle and Extravagant, where they are sure to do no Good; and so are our Anxieties and Fears, where there are no means of Escape. 
* Feras, non culpes, quod vitari non potest.  You must bear, and not complain, when the thing is unavoidable. The Behaviour of David was really very prudent; 
2 Sam. xii.  and an admirable Pattern he hath set us in it: When his Servants informed him, that the Child, whose Sickness he had expressed a most passionate Concern for, was dead; the next thing he did, was to wash, and dress himself, and return to his ordinary way of Eating, and usual demonstrations of Cheerfulness. This indeed was somewhat out of the common Road; and those about him, who knew no better, were much astonished at his proceeding; but the Account he gave of himself was solid and substantial; That, while the darling Infant was yet alive, and consequently it was yet uncertain, how God would please to dispose of him; he fasted, and wept, because he did not know, whether his Prayers might be heard, and God would be gracious in letting the Child live: But as soon as he understood it was dead, he changed his Course; because all Hopes of that kind were then past: Life could not be recalled, nor his Tears and melancholy Humiliations be of any farther use in this Case. I know well enough, that foolish People have a Reply ready for all this. They will tell you, that when a Thing is beyond all Remedy, it is then the fittest Object of our Grief; and, that our Concern is at no time so seasonable, as when we cannot be better than we now are. But This is the very Extremity of Senslessness; this completes, nay doubles the Folly. It is most truly said, 
* Scienter frustra niti extremae dementiae est.  That the greatest Madness a Man can possibly be guilty of, is to struggle and fret himself, when he sees and knows all he does is in vain. Since then the Matter now before us is so absolutely necessary, so unalterably fixed, so perfectly unavoidable, it is not only to no manner of purpose to torment ourselves with the fear of it; but, if we would take right Measures, and make any Profit of this Consideration, our Method must be, to make a Virtue of Necessity; and if this grim Guest will come, to put on all our good Humour, and prevail with ourselves to receive him decently, and bid him welcome. For the best thing we can do is to be beforehand with him. It would better become Us to make some Advances, and meet Death, than suffer It to overtake Us; and to lay hold on That, than to be surprised and apprehended by It.  
Thirdly. 
Just and Reasonable.  It is highly agreeable to Reason and Justice, that Men should die. For what more reasonable, than that every thing should come to the place of its Final Rest, and be safely deposited, where no new Change, no fresh Removal awaits it? If Men are afraid of arriving at this Long Home, they should not move towards it, but stand still, or go back again, or get out of the Road: But none of these are in their Power to do. What more reasonable again, than that you should go off this Stage of the World, and make room for new Actors, and a new Scene, as your Predecessors made room for You? If you have played your Part well, you go off with Applause, and That aught to content you; If you have enjoyed yourself and the World, you have had a good Entertainment, enough to Satisfy and Feast your Appetite; and therefore you ought to rise from Table in Good Humour. If you had not the Wit to make the best of Life, and all its Advantages slipped through your Fingers; what Loss do you sustain in parting with it? What would you do with it any longer? If you could be trusted on, still the Talon would lie unimproved. Observe to this purpose the Reasoning of the Poet. 

* 
Denique si vocem Rerum Natura repent  
Mittat, & hoc aliquoi nostrûm sic increpet ipsa;  
Quid tibi tantopere est, Mortalis, quòd nimis aegris  
Luctibus indulges? quid mortem congemis, ac sles?  
Nam si grata fuit tibi Vita anteacta, priorque,  
Et non omnia pertusum congesta quasi in vas  
Commoda persluxere, atque ingrata interiere,  
Cur non, ut plenus Vitae conviva, recedis,  
Aequo animoque capis securam, Stulte, quietem?  
Sin ea, quae fructus cunque es, periêre profusa,  
Vitaque in offensu' est; cur amplius addere quaeris,  
Rursum quod pereat male, & ingratum accidat omne;  
Nec potius Vitae finem facis, atque laboris?  Lucretius, Lib. III. — If Nature should begin to speak,  
And thus with loud Complaints our Folly check;  
Fond Mortal, what's the matter thou dost sigh?  
Why all these Fears, because thou once must die,  
And once submit to strong Mortality?  
For if the Race thou hast already run  
Was pleasant; if with Joy thou saw'st the Sun;  
If all thy Pleasures did not pass thy Mind,  
As through a Sieve, but left some Sweets behind;  
Why dost thou not then like a Thankful Guest,  
Rise cheerfully from Life's abundant Feast,  
And with a Quiet Mind go take thy Rest?  
But if all those Delights are lost and gone,  
Spilt idly all, and Life a Burden grown;  
Then why, fond Mortal, dost thou ask for more,  
Why still desire t' increase thy wretched Store,  
And wish for what must waste, like those before?  
Nor rather free thyself from Pains and Fear,  
And end thy Life, and necessary Care?  Creech, Lucret.  
But, besides that we are accountable for the Use of Life while we have it, and our Profuseness does but inflame the Reckoning, the longer time we have allowed us to Misspend it in; we must remember, that, according to what was urged a little before; Life itself is a debt; This is as the Principal Sum put into our Hands to Traffic with, but such as we should always be ready to pay down upon the Nail, whenever it shall be called in again; and He who is the Owner and Giver may Demand it the very next Hour. How then can you Argue against the Condition of Your own Obligation? How can You falsify Your Trust, and Act against Your Engagement, and Your Duty? It is most unreasonable to Shuffle and Flinch, and Kick against these Pricks; because by Death you ease yourself of a mighty Charge and Trouble; You make up your great Account, and pay in that vast Sum, for which you stood responsible, and which, while in your Custody, was liable to great Loss and Hazard. Dying is a general thing; Every Body does it, And can You take it Ill not to be Exempted? Do You expect to be the Single Instance, the Sole Reserve from Universal Nature; to Enjoy a Privilege by yourself; a Privilege never yet seen nor heard of in the World? What unparallelled Folly and Presumptuous Madness is This? Or why should You be afraid to go where all the World goes, where you will find innumerable Millions of Men, who have taken up their Residence before you come, and whither you will be followed by as great a Number afterwards? How singular an Affectation is this? Death is equally certain to All; and therefore it cannot be Unreasonable, nor Unjust, with respect to You; for Equality is the first constituent part of Equity; and no Man will be forgotten or overlooked in this Distribution. 

* 
Omnes eodem cogimur, Omnium  
Versatur Urna: Seriùs, ocyus  
Sors exitura, etc.  Horat. Od. 3. Lib. 11.  In the same Road All travel on,  
By All alike the same dark Journey must be gone.  
Our Blended Lots together lie,  
Mingled in one common Urn;  
Sooner, or Later, out they fly, etc.  IIId. Miscell.  
The Third Resentment I mentioned upon this occasion is the Contempt of Death, 
Contempt of Death Good, if upon a Good Account.  and This is a Mark of a Brave and Generous Mind; This frequently proceeds from exalted Judgement, and strength of Reason, and is more peculiarly the Virtue of a Public Character, Elevated Fortune, and a Life full of Difficult and Weighty Affairs. For to Persons in such Circumstances, many Accidents may happen, for which no Man ought to scruple Dying; and several Prospects present themselves, of Things so valuable, that they deserve to be preferred even before Life itself. Let Other matters succeed how they will, This at least is a constant Rule; That a Man ought always to be fonder, and have a greater Regard for Himself, than for a Life led in hurry and public Business; which shows him, as it were, always in a full Theatre, and exposes him to the View and Censure of all the World. He must consisider himself, not only as a Spectacle, but as a Pattern to Mankind; and remember, That One of the Encumbrances of Honour and Dignity, is a necessary Obligation to shine brighter than Common Men; to render his Virtue more conspicuous to those below him; and to do Things exemplarily Good and Great, though it happen to be at the Expense of All that the World calls Dear. To such Persons many times the same Methods of safety are denied, which private Men might make use of, without any reflection upon their Prudence, or their Duty. They must by no means suffer any diminution of their Honour; but when driven to a pinch, must Risque and Sacrifice their Lives, and trust the Event to Fate. The Great Man, who cannot command himself so far as to Despise Death, is not only made thereby incapable of doing any Gallant and eminently Good Action, but he lays himself open to more than ordinary Dangers, by this Timorous Spirit and Behaviour; and Those too, such Dangers, as threaten most, what requires his best care to preserve. For while his great Concern is to preserve his Person, and see that Life be under Covert; his Duty, his Honour, Virtue and Probity lie naked and exposed; and run a mighty hazard for want of Courage to Protect and Stand by them. The Contempt of Death is in effect the very Principle, to which the Boldest and most Renowned Exploits are owing; the most daring Attempts, whether in Good or Ill Designs. He that hath Conquered the Fear of Death, hath nothing more left to terrify him; He hath it in his Power to do what he pleases; and may at any time make himself Master of Another Man's Life, because he is already Master of his Own. And, as this Contempt is the true Source of Generosity and undaunted Firmness in Action; so is it likewise the very Spirit and Life, that quickens and supports that Resolution from whence they proceed. Hence Calmness, and Constancy, and Perseverance, All the Free and Bold Determinations, by which Virtue hath expressed herself; the Noble and Admired Sentences uttered by Celebrated Persons, when reduced to extremity of Danger and Distress: Such as shine in Story, give lasting Characters to their Authors, and transport the Reader with Wonder and Delight; a very few of which, because they now occur to my Mind, I take the Liberty to insert here.  
Helvidius Priscus, having received a Message from the Emperor Vespasian not to appear in the Senate; or, if he came, strictly prohibiting him to interpose his Opinion in a Debate, which was to be moved there; sent back word, That his Character of a Senator required his Attendance, and he should not refuse his Summons; neither should he, when There, balk any thing that became him; but, if called upon to give his Judgement, would discharge his Conscience, and deliver his Sense of the Case freely, and without Fear or Reserve. The Emperor provoked with what he thought Insolence in this Reply, sent a Second Message, threatening to put him to Death, if he opened his Mouth; To which he returned thus; Sir, said he, Did I ever tell the Emperor that I was Immortal? His Majesty, I suppose, will do his Pleasure, and I will take care to do my Duty; It is in His Power to put me to Death Unjustly, but it is in my Own to Dye Virtuously and Gallantly. The Lacedæmonians, when Philip of Macedon, Father of Alexander the Great, had entered their Country with his Army, received a terrible Message from him, Threatening what Severity he would use them with, if they did not court his Friendship, and send to make Terms with him. To which one Brisk Fellow Answered in behalf of the whole Republic, What Harm can those Men suffer who are not afraid of Death? And upon another Dispatch from Philip, telling them, That he would break all their Measures, and prevent the Designs they had form in their own Defence; The Answer was, How, Sir, what break all our Measures? No, Sure you will not pretend to hinder us from Dying? This is a Project which you cannot Defeat. Another, when his Opinion was asked, What course a Man could take to live Free and Easy, resolved the Doubt thus, That all other Methods were ineffectual, except that One of Despising Death. We read of a Young Boy, who was taken Captive and Sold for a Slave, and in Discourse with his Patron who had Bought him, Sir, says he, You shall now see what a purchase you have; I should certainly be much to blame, and guilty of great Folly, should I submit to Live in Slavery, when my Liberty is in my own Disposal, and I can retrieve it when I please: And with that he threw Himself down from the House top, and was dashed to pieces. While a Person was deliberating with himself in deep perplexity of Thought, whether he should quit this Life, or not accept that Deliverance, but be content to tug on still under the weight of a very heavy Calamity, which then oppressed him; A Wise Man told him, That in His Judgement the Matter under Debate was very small and inconsiderable. For, What is it, says he, to Live? Thy Slaves, nay thy Beasts and  Live; but to Die like a Man of Honour, and Integrity, and Wisdom; to leave the World with remarkable Constancy and Courage, This indeed is a thing of moment, and worth Studying for. To conclude this Argument; and to crown it with the most complete and substantial Consideration that can possibly belong to it; Our most Holy Religion owes more of its Success in the World, and more of its Effect upon Men's Hearts and Lives, to this single Principle of getting above the Fear of Death, than to any other Human Foundation whatsoever: No Man can be an excellently Good Christian, who is not Resolute and Brave; and upon this Account we find, that our Great Master, who best understood the Temper of his own Gospel, does insist upon taking up the Cross; Hating and Despising Life for his sake; not Fearing Men who can only destroy the Body, and the like; which are but other Expressions for the Contempt of Death; These he insists upon, I say, as frequently, as earnestly, as upon any other Duty, or Article of Religion whatsoever.  
Now we must understand, That there are many Counterfeits and False Pretences to Bravery upon this Occasion; a great many People, who look big upon the matter, and would fain persuade the World, nay perhaps are persuaded Themselves, That they Despise Death, and yet are in truth afraid of it. Thus several People will tell you; They do not value Life; They would be content, nay glad to leave the World; but the Ceremony and Process of Dying is what They cannot away with. Others again, while in perfect soundness of Health and Judgement, can think of Death without any Impressions of Horror; nay have, as They imagine, settled their Minds so, as to bear the Shock of it Firm and Unmoved; and Some have gone farther yet, and resolved to make it their Choice, their own Act and Deed. This is a Farce very often played; insomuch that the Soft, the Luxurious Heliogabalus himself had a Part in it; and made Sumptuous Preparations, that his Death might be as Pompous and Expensive, as his Life had been. But when These Mighty Men of Valour have come to the Push, their Hearts have failed; and either Courage was wanting to give the Blow, or they have repent of such Hardiness for Rash Heat and Folly; (as Lucius Domitius particularly, who after he had Poisoned himself, was sorry for what he had done,) and would fain have Lived, when it was too late. Others turn away their Heads, draw their Cap over their Eyes, and dare not look Death in the Face; They think of it as little as they can; steal upon it, and plunge in all on the sudden; They swallow it down like unpalatable Physic; and hasten to get to the End of that bitter Potion which goes against their Stomach. To this purpose is that saying of Caesar, That the Shortest Death is the Best; and that of Pliny, That a Sudden and Speedy Dispatch is the greatest good Fortune, that can happen to Man in this Stateof Mortality. Now no Man can truly be said to have Resolution and Courage, such as is above the Fear of Death, who is afraid of facing, and coming up to it; who dares not meet, and undergo it with his Eyes open, and his Thoughts and Senses about him. Thus we know several have done, and therefore this is no Romantic Excellence, above the Power or Capacity of Human Nature. Thus did Socrates particularly, who had Thirty days time to chew the Cud, and digest the Sentence pronounced against him; and yet, after all this Foresight and Consideration, Dyed without the least Disorder or Passion, without any Change in Countenance or Temper; without any struggle or sign of Reluctancy; in the most Calm, Composed, Cheerful manner, that you at any other time can suppose a Man in. Thus did Pomponius Atticus, and Tullius Marcellinus, those Two Gallant Romans; and Cleanthes the Philosopher, who Died all Three almost alike. For, resolving to Fast Themselves to Death, that so they might get rid of a very painful Distemper, that had made Life a Burden; and finding their Abstinence to prove the Best Physic, and, instead of Killing them, to Cure their Disease; They would not desist, even upon this Recovery; but Finished their Design; and took great Satisfaction in Observing the gradual Decays of Nature; and by what Steps and Methods Death gained ground upon them. Among These Fearless Men we may reckon Otho and Cato too; who, after resolving to Kill Themselves, and all necessary Preparations made in order to it, just as they were going to put their Design in Execution, took a sound sleep. Thus preserving their Spirits from any Disorder or Confusion, which the Prospect of Approaching Death was no more able to cast them into, than any trifling little Accident in Human Life, would Discompose a Man of Temper and Judgement.  
The Fourth Quality is the Affection of a Great and Generous, a Firm and Resolute Mind; 
Desire of Death.  which hath been often, and with general Approbation practised, by Persons of unquestionable Magnanimity, and eminent Piety. But then they have restrained this commendable Desire of Death to Two particular Cases.  
The First of These, which seems most agreeable to Nature, and upon that account may justify such a Desire, is a Life of extreme Calamity and Distress, of perpetual Uneasiness, and exquisite Pain; Or an Apprehension of some Death more Scandalous, more Torturing, more Insupportable, than That which at present they should undergo; In a word, a Condition so Deplorable, that there is no place left for Hope, no possibility of Remedy or Redress. Then Death is desired as a sure Retreat, and quiet Harbour from the Waves and Storms of a troublesome Life; the Best and most effectual Relief for weary and wasted Nature; the only Refuge and Support of Slaves harassed and ill Treated; and, as the Case than stands, the supreme Happiness a Man is capable of. It is, I own, an Argument of Weakness and Littleness of Soul, to sink under Misfortunes; but it is as sure an Instance of Folly, to cherish and be fond of them. And, in my poor Judgement, it is high time to Die, when (all Circumstances fairly computed,) there is a great deal more Evil than Good in Living. For, as throwing away one's Life rashly and inconsiderately is against Nature, so likewise is the taking pains to Preserve it to our own Loss; and choosing to Live in Misery and Torment. When therefore Providence hath reduced us to such a lamentable Condition as This, God will not sure be Angry, that we wish a Release. Some Persons have run the Point so high, as to tell you, That Men ought to Die to avoid the Pleasures and Temptations, which are highly agreeable to Nature; And if so, how much stronger and more cogent are the Reasons for avoiding Pain and Grief this way, which are of all things in the World the most contrary to Nature? There are, in all Appearance, several Incidents in Life, worse and much more formidable than Death: Such as a Man had better Dye than continue under; many Circumstances, in which, if it were left to any Wise Man's Choice, he would infinitely rather quit the World, than stay longer in it; So far is Life itself from being a sufficient Compensation for all the Evils possible to be endured in it. Hence it was, that when Antipater threatened a great many terrible things, and severe Revenge upon the Lacedæmonians Refusal, if they did not submit presently, and comply with the Terms he sent them; They replied, That he did not yet drive them to absolute Necessity; for if the Sufferings he threatened were worse than Death, they would choose That, as the more desirable of the Two. And it is a Saying usual with the Philosophers, That a Wise and a Good Man lives as long as it is fit he should, and not as long as possibly he can: Which is the Care of those only who sacrifice their Virtue, their Reputation, their every Thing that is most valuable and dear, to lengthen out their Term, and gain, though it be but a little Respite from Death.  
Again. Death is much more at Command, and in our Disposal than Life is, or can be; There is but One Passage into the World, and our Entrance into it must be assisted by the Will of Others; Our Ways out again are Infinite, and our Departure hence needs no Consent, but our Own: And the more cheerful and contented we are at our leaving it, the more becoming and reputable is our Exit. We may want Lands and Revenues sufficient to maintain us while Living, but no Man can want enough to receive him when Dead; This is a Freehold, which neither Poverty nor Prodigality can alienate. No Man is so despicable, but he may have the Life of any other Man at his Mercy; no Place so secure, none so strong, as to be inaccessible to Death; for as the Tragedian observes most truly; 

* 
Ubique Mors est; optimè hoe cavit Deus;  
Eripere Vitam nemo non homini potest,  
At Nemo Mortem. Mille ad hanc Aditus patent.  Senee Thebais Acts. 1.  Through all the spacious Tracts of Air, Seas, Land,  
Death, Omnipresent Death is still at hand.  
The numerous Ills, that wretched Mortals wait,  
Kind Heaven with Pity saw, and did create  
This always near, this ever sure Retreat.  
Courage and Strength, Wisdom and Virtue, All  
To Vice and Cowardice a Prey may fall:  
The Base and Weak may take our Life away,  
The Strongest can't detain, or force its Stay.  
The Privilege of Escape none can refuse,  
Death hath Ten thousand plain and easy Avenues.  The most valuable Present, that Nature hath made us; and That which really renders all the Complaints we utter in our melancholy Moods without Excuse, is, the Trusting us with the Outlets of Life, and leaving the Keys in our own hands. Why then (Vain Man) dost thou find fault with the World? It detains Thee not. If thou livest in Uneasiness, thank thyself, thy own Cowardice is to blame for it: For he that hath but the Resolution to Die, needs no more to set him free, and perfect his Deliverance.  
The Second Case, wherein the Desire of Death is most practicable and most commendable, is purely Religious; when Men have entertained such strong and lively Apprehensions, and those Apprehensions have kindled such eager Wishes, of a Future State, that Death is longed for with great Impatience; because This is looked upon as a Gain and mighty Advantage; the Seed from whence a Rich Crop shall spring up to a better Life; the Passage to the Seats of Bliss, and Inlet to Full and Perfect Happiness; the Storehouse where We and all our Earthly Treasures are safely deposited, to be produced with vast Improvement at the Resurrection. These are Things of that Moment and Infinite Value to us, that a firm Belief and steadfast Hope of them is very hardly consistent with the Fear and Loathness to die: For sure, if this Principle were pursued through all its Consequences, the Effect must needs be, to make us dissatisfied with Life, and weary of being confined here so long, and at so great a distance from our Happiness: Life upon these Terms should be barely supportable, but Death our Choice, and the Object of our Love and Desire: To such Men, Living must needs be a Toil, and a Burden; and Death an Ease and Refreshment, after much Suffering, and hard Labour. St. Paul's Declarations and Wishes would then be in the Hearts and Mouths of all Good Men. I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ, 
Phil. i Rom. seven.  which is far better. To me to die is Gain. And, Oh wretched Man, who shall deliver me from the Body of this Death? Of such Efficacy, I say, in all Reason must these Expectatons be, when duly cherished and enforced: And I cannot but acknowledge those Reproaches upon some Philosophers and Christians, both Ancient and Modern, to have a great deal of Justice in them; whom Men called Hypocrites, and Public Impostors. For what better Notions can be entertained of Persons profuse in the Proofs of an Immortal State, and in the Glorious Commendations of a Bliss inexpressible in the Life to come; and yet at the same time, Pale and Shivering for Fear, declining Death by all possible Means, and trembling at the very Mention of its Approach; though this very Thing, to which they are so exceeding averse, is confessed to be the Passage into their so much admired Eternity; the only Method of putting them into actual Possession of those Joys, the very Hope and Reversion whereof they pretend to value above this whole World?  
The Fifth and last particular mentioned upon This Occasion, 
Killing one's self.  is only a Putting in execution that which was mentioned before; For what is Dying by one's Own hand, but the Gratification and Accomplishment of a Man's Desire of Death? This indeed hath at first blush a good fair Appearance; and seems to proceed from Virtue, and Greatness of Spirit: And certain it is, that the Allowance and the Practice of it hath been both Frequent and Ancient. Many Instances of this kind live in Story, Persons eminently Great, and Good; of almost every Country, and every Religion. Greeks and Romans, Egyptians, Persians, Medes, Gauls, Indians; Philosophers of all Sects, nay Jews too; as is evident from the Fact of old Razias, who hath the Honourable Character of The Father of his Country given him, 
2 Mac. xiv.  and is constantly mentioned with Commendation of his Virtue: Another Instance the same History gives us likewise in those Women under the Tyranny of Antiochus, 
2 Mac. vi.  who after they had Circumcised their Children, cast Themselves down headlong from the Wall with them. Nay, not only Jews, but Christians too; witness those Two Holy Women, Pelagia and Sophronia, Canonised for their Piety and Courage; the former of which, with her Mother and Sisters, cast herself into a River, that by drowning they might escape the Rudeness and Violence of the Soldiers; and the latter stabbed herself, to prevent the outrageous Lust of the Emperor Maxentius. And, as if single Persons were not sufficient to justify this Practice, we have whole Cities and Nations giving Authority to it by their Example. Thus did the Citizens of Capua, to avoid being taken by the Romans; thus did Astapa and Numantia in Spain upon the same account. Thus the Abidaeans, when hard pressed by Philip; and a City of the Indians, when Alexander had encamped against it. This hath likewise had the yet more Authentic Approbations of Laws and Public Sanctions; and several Commonwealths have not only permitted, but recommended, and in some Cases brought it into a Custom; as Marseilles heretofore, the Isle of Cea in the Negropont, and some Northern Nations, in particular; where the Public Justice regulated the Times, and the Methods of doing this. Nor is it only upon Precedents, that the Favourers of this Opinion do rely, but they think it abundantly supported by Reason; and particularly, that several Arguments of Weight may be deduced from the former Article to justify it. For, say They, if a Desire and Willingness to die, be not Allowable only, but Commendable too; if we may Wish and Pray for a Release; if we may put ourselves in the way of it, and be glad when it is offered; why may we not Give this Relief to ourselves? Is the Desire itself a Virtue, and the Execution of that Desire a Sin? What is permitted in the Will, why do you call forbidden in the Act? That which I may be pleased with from Another hand, why should I be condemned for from my Own? Indeed why should I wait the tedious Approach of that from other means, which I can at any time give to myself? For is it not better to Act in this Case, than to be purely Passive? Is it not more Manly and Generous to Meet Death, than lazily to sit still and attend its Motions? The more Voluntary our Death is, the more like a Man of Honour. Again; What Law does this offend against? There are Penalties indeed ordained for Robbers and Pickpockets, but is any Man liable to them for taking his Own Goods? By the same Reason the Laws against Murder do not concern Me. They provide for every man's Security against the Insults of Others; 
See the Animadversions at the End of this Chapter.  they tie my Neighbour's hands from taking My Life, and Mine up from taking His; because this is supposed to be an Act of Violence, and want of Consent in the Sufferer makes it an Injury; but what is all This to the purpose, or how does it render a Man guilty, who voluntarily and deliberately takes away his own Life? These are the Principal, I think indeed, the Whole of those Arguments commonly alleged in Defence of this Practice; but then there are Others a great deal more Substantial, and more Obligatory, that use to be produced for the Contrary Side of the Question.  
First then. As to Authorities, This Practice, however countenanced by some, but very few States in comparison, hath yet been absolutely disallowed, and condemned by the Generality of Mankind; and not only by Christians, but Jews too, 
See Joseph, de Bell. Judaie. L 3. C 14.  as Josephus shows at large, in the Oration he made to his Officers in the Cave, at the Taking of Jotapata. By the Generality of Philosophers and Great Men, as Plato, and Scipio, and Others; who all impute this manner of proceeding to a Defect, rather than any Sufficiency of Courage; and reproach it, not only as an Act of Cowardice, misbecoming a Brave Man, but of Heat and Impatience, unworthy of a Good Man. For what can we say better of it, than that This is skulking and running out of the way, to hid one's self from the Insults of Fortune? Now a Virtue that is vigorous and staunch, will be sure to stand its ground: Distress and Pain are so far from making it flinch, that they feed and cherish, and exalt it; it lives, it grows, it triumphs by them. There is certainly greater Firmness of Mind expressed in bearing and making an Advantage of one's Chain, than in breaking it to pieces, because it keeps us confined, and ties us fast to some Uneasinesses: And all considerate Men must allow, that Regulus showed infinitely more Gallantry than Cato. 

* 
Rebus in Adversis facile est contemnere Vitam:  
Fortiter Ille facit, qui Miser esse potest.  Martial Lib. xi. Ep. 57  The Base, when wretched, dare to Die; but He  
Is Brave indeed, who dares to Live in Misery.  

† 
Si fractus illabatur orbis,  
Impavidum ferient ruinae.  Horat. Od. 3. L. 3.  If the Cracked Orbs should split and fall,  
Crush him they might, but not Appall.  Sir R. Fanshaw. Nay, these Men ought to be accounted Infamous, and treated as Deserters. For no Man can answer quitting the Post he is ordered to, without the express Leave, and fresh Orders of the Superior Officer, who placed high there. We are by no means put into the World upon our own account alone; and therefore Personal Calamities must not put us upon an Act of so great Injustice, as the squandring away That, in which Others have a Right, as well as We; nor yet are we Masters of ourselves, but under the Disposal and Direction of a Lord who hath a Right Paramount.  
Thus you see what Arguments are generally brought on either side; but if we set the Considerations of Duty and Religion aside, and take the Liberty to speak the Sense of mere Nature in the Case, the Resolution she would come to seems to be This: That Men ought not to enter upon this Last and Boldest Exploit, without some very extraordinary, and most pressing Reason to induce them; that so it may be, what They call, making a Decent and Honourable Exit. Every slight Occasion, every little Pett, or cross Accident, will not justify Men's falling out with the World; and therefore, They are certainly in a great Error, who pretend that a small Excuse will serve to quit Life, since there are no very Weighty Arguments to persuade our keeping it. This is highly ungrateful to God and Nature, when so Rich a Present is so much slighted and undervalved; It is an Argument of great Levity, and betrays a great deal of Moroseness and Ill Humour, when we quarrel and break Company upon every slender Provocation. But indeed there is something to be said (though that something is not enough) for a very Urgent and Weighty Occasion; such as renders Life a perpetual Torment, and the Thoughts of continuing in it insupportable; such, for Instance, as I mentioned formerly, Long, Acute, Excessive Pain, or the certain Prospect of a very Cruel and Ignominious Death. And upon this account, the several Persons that I am going to name, how favourably soever Story hath represented their Behaviour, do by no means seem to have a Plea sufficient to Justify, no, not so much as to Excuse a Voluntary Death. Such are Pomponius Atti●us, Marcellinus, and Cleanthes, who after they had begun the Process, resolved to finish it, merely because they would avoid the trouble of having the whole Course to begin and go through again: For, what Apology soever might be made for the delivering themselves from a Painful Distemper, yet when that Pain and the Cause of it were removed, they lay under no farther Temptation to be out of love with Life; and a bare Possibility of the Disease returning, was a Consideration much too remote. The Wives of Paetus, and Scaurus, and Labeo, and Fulvius the intimate Friend of Augustus, of Seneca, and a great many more, were as fantastically foolhardy; when they killed Themselves, either to bear their Husband's Company out of the World, or to invite Them to go with them. So likewise Cato and others, who were discontented with the Event of their Undertake, and the Chance of War; and chose rather to die by their own hands, than to fall into their Enemy's; notwithstanding these Enemies were such, as gave them no just ground to fear any barbarous or dishonourable Treatment from them neither. The same Censure will fall upon Them, who murdered themselves, rather than they would be beholding to one they hated, for their Lives; or lie at the Mercy of an Ill Man; as Gravius Silvanus, and Statius Proximus did, after Nero had given them his Pardon. Nor are They less to blame, who run into the Shades of Death, to hid themselves from Shame, and cover the Reproach of some past Dishonour or Misfortune; such as Lucretia after the Injury she had suffered from Tarquin; and Spargopises, Son to Tomyris the Seythian Queen, and Boges Commander under Xerxes; the former, because he could not bear being Prisoner of War to Cyrus; the other for the Loss of a Town taken by Cimon the Athenian General. Nor They, who could not endure to survive a Public Calamity, though nothing extraordinary had befallen Them in particular; such as Nerva the Great Lawyer, Vibius Virius at the Taking of Capua, and Jubelli●s at the Death of the greatest part of their Senators, inflicted by a Roman Officer. And least of all can those Nice and Delicate People excuse themselves, who choose to die, because they are cloyed with Life, and weary of repeating the Same Things over again. Nay, I must go farther yet. For it is by no means sufficient, that the Occasion be very Important, and full of Difficulty; unless it be Desperate, and past all Remedy too; for nothing less than Necessity ought to be pleaded here; and This should be the last Reserve, the Only Escape from Extremity of Misfortune. Upon this Account Rashness, and Despondency, and anticipating one's Fate, and Giving all for Lost is always exceeding ; an Instance whereof we have in Brutus and Cassius, who, before there was any occasion for it, put an End to their own Lives, and with Them to all the languishing Remains of the Liberty of Rome, which was committed to, and depended entirely upon Their Protection. For, as Cleomenes truly said, Men are under an Obligation to use Life frugally, and to make it go as far as possibly they can; nay, not only to contrive, that it may last as long as is possible, but that it may be useful to the very last. For a Man may discharge himself of this Trust at any time; and when Things are at the very worst  they can be, This Remedy is what no Man can be at a loss for. But we should wait for better Days, and try whether the hand of our Fortune will not mend upon us. 
* Aliquis Carnisici suo superstes fuit.  Many a Man, as Seneca observes, hath outlived his Executioner. Josephus, and a great many besides, have followed this Advice to excellent good purpose; and Matters, when in all human probability desperate and lost, have wheeled about, and taken a quite different Course, to the mighty Surprise, as well as Advantage, of all that were concerned in them. 

† 
Multa Dies variusque labor mutabilis aevi  
Rettulit in melius.  Virg. Aenerd. H.  Good unexpected, Evils unforeseen,  
Appear by Turns, as Fortune shifts the Scene:  
Some raised aloft, come tumbling down amain,  
Then fall so hard, they bond and rise again.  Mr. Dryden.  
In this Case a Man of Honour and Virtue ought to act toward Himself, as he should in sighting, toward his Adversary; To be always upon his Guard; to parry and ward off the Blows with all the Art and Skill one hath, to weary him out, and make good one's own Party; but never to Kill, except the necessary Defence of one's self require it, and till Matters are brought to the very last Push.  
Secondly, There is no Question to be made, but it is infinitely more Virtuous, and more Commendable, to endure patiently, and support ourselves with firm and  Constancy to the very End, than to sink under the Load, and tamely flee before the Calamity. For such a Yielding betrays Weakness and Cowardice. But, because Perseverance, like Continence, is a Grace not given equally to All, nor is every Man alike able to receive it; the Question before us at present will be, Whether upon Supposition of some Great Evil, Insupportable for the Quality, and past all Hopes of Remedy or Recovery; such as is likely enough to subvert and beat down all our Resolution, and Irritate our Minds to some very wicked Passion; such as Discontent, Despair, Murmuring against our Great Lord; Whether, I say, in such a Case, it might not be more expedient, or at least more excusable, to deliver one's self by One Resolute Act, from such Dreadful, such Vicious Consequences, while our Understanding is perfect and undisturbed; than by a Cowardly Delay to expose ourselves to the Danger of being vanquished by the Temptation, and so ruined to all Eternity? Is it not better to quit the Field, than to Sacrifice one's self by obstinately standing one's ground? This perhaps is a Course, which in some very Nice and Difficult Exigencies, Reason and merely Human Prudence might advise; and accordingly some, who pretended to be great philosophers, have practised it, in different Countries; so that the Opinion seems to have been pretty favourably received. The Stoics do not stand upon so much Ceremony, but give Men leave to dislodge and pack off, whenever they are disposed to it; as we may collect from Seneca and others. The other Philosophers are somewhat more reserved, but They allow it too; provided a Man can give a good reason for his proceeding thus. These are the Notions, and Determinations of the Schools of Philosophy and Human Reason; but That of Christ teaches us much otherwise. For the Christian Religion admits no reason to be sufficient in this Case, nor ever dispenses with any Circumstances whatsoever. The Truth and Wisdom of God absolutely condemns all such Officious and Voluntary abandoning of our Post; and never suffers us to stir from our Duty, till we are regularly dismissed, by the same Authority which placed us in it. No Man's own Inclinations are sufficient, nor can the doing it of his own head bear him out in this matter. So that whatever hath been said in this Chapter, which may seem in any degree to advise Men to Patience and Perseverance, and to propose This, as the better and more eligible; though, in the Philosophical Sense, it be only recommended as Good Counsel; yet in a Religious one, it hath the force of an absolute and indispensable Command.  
Besides we may add, That it is an Argument of very great Wisdom, for a Man to know and distinguish rightly, which is the proper season for Dying; and to lay hold on that Opportunity, when put into his hands. For every Man hath a Critical juncture of this kind, in which Virtue and Honour call; which Some by being overhasty Antedate, and Others as much too slow let slip through their Hands. Both these Defects, though so contrary in the Operation, yet proceed from the same Principles; which are a mixture of Weakness, and of Courage: But the Misfortune is, That even Magnanimity itself, without Discretion to Temper and Direct it, will not secure a Man's Character. How many Persons of just Renown, and once unblemished Honour, have yet had the Unhappiness of surviving their Reputation; and from an Intemperate Fondness of Life, for the sake of some poor little addition to their Days, have absolutely Sullied and Eclipsed their former Glories, followed all their Credit to the Grave, a good Name Murdered and Buried by their Own Hands? The wretched remainder of their time hath retained not the least Tincture or Resemblance of what went before; but the Scandal of Their Age, compared with the Honours of their earlier Years, looks like some wretched old Clout, tacked to some very Rich and Beautiful Garment. And who would patch up Life at this Odious Deformed rate? It is with This, as with Fruit; there is a Critical Season of gathering it from the Tree. If you let it hang too long, it putrifies and grows Insipid; and the longer you spare it, the worse it is; and if you pluck it too soon, the loss is as great in the other Extreme; for than it is Green and Sour, and good for nothing for want of kindly Ripening.  
Many Eminent Saints have with great Industry declined Dying, upon consideration of their great Usefulness, and the mighty Advantage the Public would receive from their Surviving; and this too, notwithstanding the certain Prospect of their own Private Gain in leaving the World. And when a Man can exchange so much for the better, it argues great Charity, to be content to Live. This St. Paul describes to be his own Case, (Phil. I.) And there is more than Men commonly think of Resignation in that Old Saying, If my longer Continuance be for the Benefit of thy People, I refuse not the toil of Living. Si Populo tuo sum necessarius, non recuso Laborem.  
Death appears to us under divers Shapes; and the manner of Men's undergoing it, is vastly different; some of the ways of Dying are more easy, and accordingly the Figures and Ideas of it much less dismal and frightful, than Others. But when all is done; the Difference of these Forms, is like that of Faces; and the Preference given to them depends chief upon Humour and Fancy. So far as I am capable of Judging, Of all Deaths which are usually termed Natural, That is the Gentlest and most Supportable, which proceeds from a gradual Weakness, and Stupefaction of the Parts: And of All that are Violent, That sure is most eligible, which is quickest in Execution and Dispatch, and is least thought of beforehand. Some indeed are fond of making their last Act Exemplary, a Pattern to Others, and a Commendation to Themselves; by the Proofs they give the World of Courage, and Wisdom, and Steadiness of Mind at their last Hour; But This is rather to have a regard for Other People than One's Self; and a Symptom of a Vainglorious Humour, which is greedy of Fame, even at the Moment we Expire; and reproaches Us with Vanity, rather than brings any real Advantage to Mankind in common. Now Dying is not an Act of Society, but of One single Person; and therefore the Rules for Regulating our Behaviour in it are Personal. At such a time a Man hath enough to do, to mind his own Business; and the Thing he is chief obliged to attend, is to Comfort and Support himself in this last great Conflict, without troubling himself with the Affairs, or the Censures of other People; for he is that very Moment putting himself out of the Dominion of Common Fame, and going to a Place, where what the surviving World says will neither reach nor concern him. That, in a word, is the Best Death, which is most Private; where a Man hath greatest opportunities of Recollecting himself, and going out of the World Quietly, without any troublesome Attendance or Observation. The usual Ceremonies of our Friends and Relations being by, and giving Their Assistance in the last Struggles of Life, is exceeding Troublesome and Inconvenient; One Disturbs your Sight with an Object that had better be away; Another your Ear with some Impertinent Discourse; a Third your Mouth by forcing upon you some fruitless Medicine or Sustenance; and All together Crowd, and Confound, and perfectly Stifle the Dying Man. Then their Tears, and Groans, and Lamentations, are more Tormenting than all the rest; if they be Real, and proceed from Affection and Concern, they melt one down, break one's Courage and Resolution, and cut one to the very Heart: If they be Formal only, and put on for Decency or Design; they raise one's Indignation, and provoke a very unseasonable Passion in the very midst of Agonies and Convulsions. Several very Considerable Persons have been so sensible of this Inconvenience, that they have contrived industriously, to Die at a distance from their Relations, on purpose to be out of the way of it. And sure That which moves many People to desire the contrary, is very ridiculous. For what can be more Childish and Senfless, than to please one's self with moving the Compassion of Friends and Acquaintance; and be proud that a great many People express a tender Concern for what we Endure? We cannot but commend Firmness of Mind, and a Hardy Virtue in encountering Misfortunes; We exhort our Friends to it, when it is their Own Case, and upbraid them with Weakness, if they take it too tenderly; and yet this very Virtue we hate, and accuse as inhuman and wanting in Affection, when the Calamity is Ours. Then They who were formerly chidden for resenting their Own, are reproached, if they are too afflicted, and do not perfectly sink under Our Sufferings. We condemn their Complaints for what they feel; and yet we cannot allow them so much as to be patiented under what they only see. This is unjust, unreasonable, and foolish to the last degree. And certainly a Wise Man when sick, should be very well content at least, if not much better pleased, with the Composed Countenances, and resigned Behaviour, of all the Friends that assist in his Extremities.   

CHAP. XII. The maintaining a True and Uninterrupted Tranquillity of Spirit, which is the very Crown and Glory of Wisdom: And the Last Head of this Book.  
A Quiet and Contented Mind is the Supreme Good, the utmost Felicity Man is capable of in This World. This is that Rich and Noble, indeed that inestimable Treasure, which the Wise Men of Old with so much Labour and Application sought after; the Fruit of all their Travels, the End of all their Studies, the Sum and Compliment of all their Philosophy; and This is the very Reward of all the Pains, and the Crown of all the Wisdom, to which I am now Instituting my Scholar in this Treatise. But This, like other Excellencies, is frequently misunderstood; and therefore to prevent any such Errors at present, I must first acquaint you, That the Quiet I now speak of, does by no means consist in a Retreat from the Noise and Clutter of the World, Leisure from Business, Time at Command, no Cares to disturb one; a Delightful, Nice, and uninterrupted Solitude, full of Ease and Plenty; or in a profound Neglect and Oblivion of what is done Abroad: Were this the Case, what an infinite Number of happy Persons should we have? Careless and Idle Women, Slothful and Insignificant Fellows, Cowards and Coxcombs, the Sensual and Luxurious, would have this Blessing at Command. For if want of Thought and Business give a Title to it, Theirs is indisputable; and what the Wise aspire after, and think a Prize sufficient for a whole Life's Study, These attain to by a much easier way. This then is the first Principle we are to go upon, That Multiplicity of Business, or Having nothing to do, neither of them constitute or destroy, take from or contribute to, the Tranquillity we are now speaking of. But This is a Decent and Beautiful, a Gentle and Mild, an Equal and United, a Firm and Pleasant Composure of Temper. Such a Steadiness of Mind, as neither Business nor Leisure, neither Prosperous nor Adverse Fortune, no Turn of Time or Chance can disturb or change, exalt or depress. For This is the Property and 
* Vera Tranquillitas non concuti.  Character of true Tranquillity, Never to be shaken; but to continue , and unconcerned; always in humour, and always the same.  
The next Consideration upon this Occasion, is, By what Methods a Man may rise up to this Sedateness and Elevation of Soul; how we shall attain; and when attained, how we shall preserve, and maintain ourselves in it. And for This we need only refresh our Memories, with what hath been already delivered in this Second Book: For They are the Rules, by the Observation and careful Practice whereof we may hope to gain our Point. And therefore, for the Reader's Ease and better Convenience, I will here very briefly repeat the Substance of them. They consisted, you remember, of Two sorts. First, such as either carry off, or prevent all those Qualities, that are Obstructions to our Improvement in this Happiness. And 2dly, Such as furnish and adorn the Mind, with such Virtues as tend to the Increase and Conservation of it. Those Things that are aptest to hinder, or to disturb the Ease and Quiet of the Mind; are Popular Opinions, and Common Prejudices, which, notwithstanding they have made themselves almost Universal, are yet, for the most part, False and Groundless; and a Man would wonder, which way Notions could get so much Credit, which have so very small a Stock of Argument to set up upon. The next Impediment to be removed arises from our Passions and Desires, for These indulged quite spoil and break our Temper; they make us Nice and Squeamish; Humoursome and Difficult; and These are Qualities utterly inconsistent with Contentedness: Now These Passions and Appetites are kindled and put into motion, by the Two contrary sorts of Events, which we call Prosperity and Adversity; for They are the Winds and Storms, that swell and disorder the Soul, and make all within foul Wether, and a troubled Sea. The last thing to be remedied is that mean and narrow-spirited Captivity of Thought, by which the Mind (that is, the Judgement and the Will,) is Chained down like a Slave to his Galley, or cramped up like a Beast with his Yoke, to set Forms, particular Opinions, and Local Customs. Now the first thing a Man hath to do, is to knock off all these ●etters, and break through such unreasonable Tyranny and Consinement; to set one's Mind at large, assert our native Liberty, and resolve to be at our own disposal. To entertain free, extensive Notions of things; and be Open and Universal, Inquisitive and Discerning, enlarging our Studies and our Ideas, and ranging through all the spacious Plains of the World and Nature in general. For a Wise and Happy Man must answer that Description; 
* In commune genitus, mundum ut umm domum spectans, toti se inferens mundo, & in omnes ejus actus contemplationem suam mittens.  Born for the Public, considering this whole World as one Common House and Family, concerning himself with all the parts of it, and employing his Contemplation upon every thing that passes there.  
When the Platform is thus cleared of Rubbish, and the Ground prepared, and ready to begin upon, the next thing in order is to lay the Foundations; and those are Two, An entire substantial Probity of Mind, and The Fixing one's self in such a Calling or Condition, as our Nature, Circumstances, and other Qualifications have fitted us for. The Materials, with which this Building must be carried up, and wherein both the Strength and Beauty of it will consist, are these that follow. The First and Principal is, True Piety; whereby a Man Contemplates Almighty God, not with a Soul full of Horror and Amazement, but with a Mind full of Purity, with Freedom and Delight, with profound Respect, and fervent Devotion. For God is the Absolute, the Universal Lord and Governor of all Things; and, though his Nature and Essence be neither visible to our Senses, nor fall within the Comprehension of our Understandings, so that we are not able to give ourselves, or Others, an exact and perfect Account what He is in Himself; yet it is our Duty to Acknowledge and Confess Him; to pay him all possible Honour, and Homage, and humble Adoration; to Serve Him Zealously, and with our whole Heart; to entertain becoming Thoughts of his Providence and Perfections; to Hope and Trust in Him for all manner of Good, from the Being who is Goodness in the Abstract; to apprehend nothing of Evil or Injury from Him; but be assured, if any thing we resent as such, happen to us, it is the Effect of our own Provocations and Follies, and most justly inflicted. In the next place, Simplicity and Integrity in Conversation must be added, Conformity without troublesome and unnecessary Scruples to the Laws and Customs of the Place where we dwell; Living without Hypocrisy or Dissimulation, Dealing Fairly and Above-board, no Crafty Reservation or Disguise, but to let our Words and Actions speak our Heart; and the inmost recesses of our Soul be thus laid open to God and the World. This is another Character given of a Wise Man; That he 
* Conscientiam suam aperi●ns, semperque tanquam in publico vivens, se magis veritus quàm alios.  Spreads his Conscience, as it were, and exposes it to Public view, Lives and Acts constantly, as if all Mankind were Conscious of what he does, and hath a greater Reverence for Himself than for the Observation of Others. He that Manages himself thus, can never want Encouragement to do well, nor powerful Restraints from doing otherwise. Then follows Moderation, which must extend to All Persons and Things; ourselves, and All that can be any way concerned or converse with Us; our Thoughts, and Words, our Designs, and Actions, must All be regulated by it. For Moderation is the Original and Source, the Nourisher and Cherisher of Tranquillity; by This we learn to lay aside and to despise all Pomp, and Show, and vain Superfluities; to bring our Desires within their proper compass; to keep them under Government, and to content ourselves with a Competent provision, such proportions of every thing as our Occasions require, when really and rightly considered, without any of those Imaginary Wants, which we are apt to form to ourselves: And thus Disposed we come to like, and be very well pleased with our present Condition, not envious of other People's Enjoyments, not fond of Change. How much all this conduces to Happiness and Tranquillity, a very slight Reflection will serve to convince us: For when Moderation hath thus furled the Sails, The Storm, when it blows hard, hath less to fasten upon; and cannot do us any Damage comparable to that we should suffer, if our Desires were enlarged, and the Sheet let fly to the Wind. By thus contracting ourselves, we are fortified against every Accident that might Shock or Injure us; we bear our Minds up above all manner of Fear; despise all the Assaults of Fortune, and the Malice of Death itself; looking upon that, as the period of all our Sufferings; a kind Friend which takes us out of the way from infinite Calamities, but creates not, nor exposes us to any one. Thus also the Wise Man is described. 
* Contemptor omnium, quibus torquetur Vita: supra omnia quae contingunt acciduntque eminens. Intrepidus, Imperturbatus.  One that despises all those things which are the Plagues and Torments of Human Life; above the reach of Accidents, without Anxiety, without Fear, without any kind of tender or troublesome Concern. Thus a Man must secure Steadiness of Mind, and a good Agreement with himself; he must look for his Satisfaction in his own Breast; Live Easily, and have no Disputes, no Trouble within; but keep all there Peaceable, and Cheerful; Rejoicing and Congratulating with one's own Mind; and Dwelling, as we call it, at Home, with full Contentation, and a sort of Self-sufficiency; such as is highly Necessary and Commendable, such as nothing but Wisdom can give, and without which neither It, nor the Happiness it proposes for our Reward, can possibly subsist. 
† Nisi Sapienti sua non placent. Omnis Stultitia laborat fastidio sui. Non est beatus, esse se qui non putat.  No Body but the Wise Man is pleased with his own Condition. All Folly in a little time grows sick of itself; No Man is Happy, who does not think himself so.  
In a word. To this Composition of an Easy and Quiet Mind Two Ingredients are indispensably requisite. The First, and indeed the Chief, is a Clear and a Good Conscience; which does inspire Men with wonderful Strength and Assurance, and is a mighty Stay, and Defence, and Support in all manner of Contingencies. But yet This, as mighty as it is, will not singly be a sufficient Defence; for sometimes the Tempest is so exceeding fierce and strong, that all the Innocence in the World is not able to bear up against it. How often do we see very good Men in very grievous Calamities, dejected and at a loss? Nay, our Blessed Saviour himself mentions some Tribulations of his foretelling, which should endanger even seducing the very Elect. To This therefore we must add One more, which is Strength of Mind, and Natural Courage; and of this too it must much more be allowed, that It alone is by no means sufficient for our purpose. For the Force of Conscience is prodigious, and almost unconceivable; It stairs us in the face, haunts and dogs us with guilty Remorse, makes us betray, accuse, and turn Enemies to ourselves; and for want of other Evidence to convict us, it compels us to inform, and give Testimony of our own Crimes. 

* Occultum quatiente Animo to●tore slagellum Juv. Sat. 13.  For why must Those be thought to 'scape, who feel  
Those Rods of Scorpions, and those Whips of Steel,  
Which Conscience shakes, when she with Rage controls,  
And spreads amazing Terrors through their Souls?  
Not sharp Revenge, nor Hell itself can find  
A fiercer Torment, than a guilty Mind.   
It draws our Indictment, Arraigns, Tries, Condemns, and puts us to Death: So different are the Parts it acts, and yet so dextrous and powerful is it in supplying the place of Adversary, Witness, Judge, and Executioner, that we need no other. No Covert can do the Ill Man's business, says Epicurus; for let it be never so close, yet he can Never think himself safe; for Conscience will be sure to discover him to Himself, and that Discovery will always represent, and sometimes create Danger. 

† 
— Prima est haec Ultio. quòd se  
Judice nemo nocens absolvitur.  Ibid.  Though Bribes or Favour shall assert his Cause,  
Pronounce him guiltless, and elude the Laws,  
None quits Himself, his own impartial Thought  
Will damn, and Conscience will record the Fault.  
This first the Wicked feels—   
So that upon the whole matter, let a Man be never so Holy and Good, yet at the same time, if he be in his own Temper Timorous and Faint-hearted; and again, let a Man be naturally never so stout, and a stranger to Fear, yet if he be not a Good Man, and his Conscience cannot speak Peace to him; neither the One, nor the Other of these Persons will ever be capable of this happy Tranquillity of Spirit, this Perfection and Fruit of Wisdom, which we are at present treating of. There must be a Friendly Correspondence, a Mutual Assistance of Both; and They, in whose Souls both meet together, are qualified to do Wonders; and such are the most Eminent Persons, which we find renowned in Story for Great and Noble Actions, and Intrepid Behaviour in Times of greatest Trial. Such were Epaminondas, Cato and Scipio in particular, whose Unconcernedness in Danger and Death is admirable. These two Romans, when publicly accused, put those very Persons, who preferred the Complaint against them, to the blush; and made them betray their Shame to the whole Assembly. They gained over the Judges to their side, and struck all the Audience so, as not only to win their Favour, but to raise their Admiration. And all this only with that astonishing Unconcernedness, and Equality of Mind, which appeared in their Carriage; for the Character Livy gives of Scipio, and the reason of his voluntary Exile assigned there, is, That he had a heart too big, too generous, to know how to be treated like a Criminal, or descend so low as complying with the Custom of descending his own Innocence by a formal Apology. 
* 
Major animus ac Natura erat, quàm ut Reus esse sciret, & submittere se in Humilitatem causam dicentium.  Tit. Liv. Hist. Lib. 38. .    
The End of the Second Book.   

Advertisements.  

Book II. Chap. 5. Page 116. Sect. 2.  
AN Imagination, which," to those who think Sacrifices to have been of human Invention seems to have been the Ground of all that way of Worship. I have, in the rendering of this Passage, added those words," To those who think Sacrifices to have been of human Invention," not supposing it at all proper, to let the Sentence run in general Terms, when the Matter affirmed here by our Author is, (to say the least of it,) so very disputable. And accordingly I beg the Reader's Leave to detain him a little upon this occasion, while I lay before him the mistake of our Author, in these Two particulars, with Relation to Sacrifices; The First whereof is designed to show, that Sacrifices were not at all of Human Invention Originally, The Second, That supposing them to have been so, yet this Superstitious and False Imagination of a God taking delight in the Sufferings and Calamities of his Creatures, does not seem to have been the Foundation of them, but rather Other Notions of the Deity, of a very different kind from This.  
First then, I desire it may be considered, Whether Sacrifices were Originally of Human Invention at all; which they must needs have been, to justify Monsieur Charron's Opinion of their proceeding from an Erroneous and most unbecoming Idea of God, entertained in the Minds of Ignorant Men. This indeed hath been a Point upon which Learned Men have differed in all Ages, and very great Authorities it is to be confessed there are on both Sides. The Learned Reader, who hath the Leisure and Curiosity to inform himself how this matter stands, may see the variety of Judgements, and the Ground of them, in the several Commentators upon the Fourth and Eight Chapters of Genesis, where the Sacrifices of Abel and Noah are mentioned; Or if that be too Laborious to compare Expositors, Two of our Learned Countrymen will help him to a short and full Collection of what can be said for that side, which asserts the Human Invention of Sacrifices. Dr. Outram, I mean, in his Book, De Sacrificijs Lib. 1. Cap. 1. De Sacrificiorum Origine. And Dr. Spencer in his Treatise de Legibus Hebraeorum, Lib. 3. Dissert. 2. Cap. 4. De Ratione & Origine Sacrificiorum Patriarchalium.  
It would be too great an Expense both of the Reader's time and my own, as well as improper for the nature of an Advertisement, to lay down at large all that is usually argued on both sides of the Question. The sum of it may be reduced within a narrow Compass; and therefore I shall with all possible Brevity, mention the Arguments of Those, who maintain the Human Invention of Sacrifices, together with the Reasons which I conceive may persuade the Contrary rather, and that in regard they either seem to take off the Force of Their Arguments; or otherwise recommend the Divine Institution of Sacrifices, as an Opinion more probable, and liable to less Difficulties.  
I. First then, It is urged, That God himself denies, that he ever Instituted Sacrifices, till after the Israelites Deliverance out of their Egyptian Bondage; from whence the Conclusion is this; That whatsoever Sacrifices were offered before that time, they must necessarily be of Man's own Devising, since we have the Testimony of God, declaring in very solemn manner, that they were not of His Appointment. The Texts insisted upon to this purpose are those two, Isaiah I. 11, 12. To what purpose is the Multitude of your Sacrifices unto me, saith the Lord? I am full of the Burnt-Offerings of Rams, and the Fat of fed Beasts, and I delight not in the Blood of Bullocks, or of Lambs, or of He-goats; when ye come to appear before me, who hath required this at your hands, to tread my Courts? The Other, Jerem VII. 21, 22. Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, Put your Burnt-offerings unto your Sacrifices, and eat Flesh. For I spoke not unto your Fathers, nor commanded them in the day, that I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning Burnt offerings or Sacrifices.  
Now any One, who considers the Occasion of these Passages, will find that both of them are intended for a Reproof to the Hypocrisy of the Jews, and a Check to that Confidence, they reposed in those Ritual Performances, though void of that real Devotion, and inward Purity, which alone was acceptable to God. The Context in each place manifestly proves this to have been their design, and the want of Comparative degrees in the Hebrew Language, w●● suffer no great stress to be laid upon the Negative Form of speech. That known instance quoted by our Blessed Lord, I will have Mercy and not Sacrifice, 
Matth. IX. 13. XII. 7. from Hosea VI 6.  is Key sufficient to these before us, and can warrant our concluding only thus much from them; That God prefers substantial Holiness infinitely before these things; that Obedience was That Thing he always required, and Sacrifices being in reality but so many professions of That, were not properly to be looked upon as Essential Duties, wherein the Israelites part of the Covenant consisted; that These were by no means what he aimed at in admitting them to Covenant with himself; and consequently, when destitute of their Substance and End, were empty and insignificant, of no account with God, and not a Worshipping him, but, to speak plainly and truly, what he very emphatically, and contemptuously calls, a Treading his Courts. I add too, that this Text of Jeremiah cannot possibly be taken in a strict and literal Sense, since it is manifest God did speak to their Fathers in the very day that he brought them out of Egypt, concerning one Sacrifice, the Passeover, I mean, 
Deut. XVI. 1, 5, 6. 1 Cor. V 8.  which though a Feast, yet is it frequently termed a Sacrifice too; and therefore some Interpreters here have taken refuge in restraining that Text to Sin-Offerings and Peace Offerings, and not extending it to Sacrifices at large; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Zabach. LoTizbach.  which yet will not answer their purpose, since the very same Hebrew word, which Jeremy makes use of, is twice together applied to the Passover, by Moses, Deut, XVI. 5, 6.  
II. A Second Argument is drawn from Cain and Abel Offering, each the product of his own Labours respectively, which makes it probable, that such Oblations were the product of a grateful Mind, dictating to them that God ought to have some acknowledgement and return made him for his Benefits. Now that Nature might inform Men, of a Duty incumbent upon them to Worship God, and the Common Notions of Gratitude put them upon applying part of their Substance to the Honour and Service of Him, who gave the whole, Men find easy to apprehend. But the difficulty is, How Nature should inspire Men with a Thought, that Burning this by Fire, or otherwise ordering it, as the Custom of Sacrificers was, is a proper Method of expressing their Honour for, and Gratitude to God. Again, Had Sacrifices been a dictate of Nature, How came they ever to be Abolished, since the Natural is part of that Law, which our Saviour came not to destroy, but to perfect and fulfil? 
Mat. V 17.  This Inconvenience Dr. Outram was sensible of, and therefore he makes a distinction between the First and Eternal Dictates and Laws of Nature, and other Institutions and Ordinances in pursuance of, and agreement with those. Whether this be sufficient to clear the Difficulty, I leave the Reader to judge, and for that purpose I have presented him with the whole Passage in the 
* Id unum hoc in loco monere visum est, hos qui suâ cujusque sponte primò Sacrificatum judicant, etiamsi fortè, quibusdam in locis incautius loqus videantur; hunc tamen Sacrificandi ritum ad Natura Leges proprtè dictas, aeternas utique & immutabiles non refer; sed ad ejusmodt Instituta, quae Ratio Naturalis excogitaverit tanquam ad conspicuum Dei cultum, apta satis & idonea. Prius illud si qui fecerint, ex eo falsi arguuntur, quòd Christus Sacrificandi ritus apud Veteres olun usitacoes penitus apud Suos delevit; qui idem tamen tantum abfuit, ut ullas aboleret Naturae Leges, ut has omnes Authoritate suâ ratas, certas, ac firmas fecerit. Outram. de Sacrif Lib. I. Cap. 1. Sect. IU.  Margin. One thing only I desire may be observed, which is, That this Argument, of what force soever it may prove, for Sacrifices of Thanks, yet can give no Countenance at all to Those of any Other Sort; and particularly not to the Expiatory, which Monsieur Charron hath chief regard to, if not to them alone, in this place.  
III. A Third Reason is taken from the great Design God seems to have had in the Legal Sacrifices, That of containing the Israelites within the Worship of One God, and in order to it, condescending so far to their Infirmities, and the Infection they had taken from the Idolatry of Egypt, as to conform their Worship and Rites to those of the Heathen World. Now it is not to be denied, but this seem to have been the Case, and probably the best account why such particular Rites were instituted; but to make the Argument effectual, we must inquire, how those Heathen came by Their Sacrifices and Ceremonies. For That may be a very good and rational Explanation of the Mosaic Institution, which is not a sufficient account of the Patriarchal Religion. And in the Sequel of this Discourse my Reader will find occasion to consider, whether there were not another End to be served by the Sacrifices both Patriarchal and Levitical, which mere Nature could not attain to, and therefore a Positive Institution was necessary for the promoting it.  
iv It may be said Fourthly, That as God left the first Ages of the World, to the Dictates of Nature and right Reason in the Discovery and Practice of Moral Duties, so it is most likely they were left to the same Guidance for the exercise of Religion too; and if any Notions and Ceremonies grew common upon this occasion, not so agreeable to the Nature of true Religion, and the Dignity of an Almighty Majesty; these are capable of great Allowances, and suit well enough with the Simplicity of the First Ages of the World.  
To This I presume it may suffice to answer, That the Case of Moral Duties, and Religious Rites is very different: The One are purely the result of a reasonable and thinking Mind; The Other of a Nature which we must needs be much in the dark about. For though Reason would convince me, that God is to be worshipped, yet He alone can tell me, what Worship will be acceptable to him. At least, if I must beat out my own Track, the Notions I entertain of God must direct me. Now These might convince a Man, that Purity and Sincerity, Justice and Goodness, and the like, must needs please an Infinitely Perfect Being. But which way could an Imagination so foreign enter into men's heads, as that God should be pleased with the Blood and Fat of Beasts? Admit These to have been the Chief of their Substance, and devoted, because as such fittest for them to express their Acknowledgements by; that as devoted and entirely, set apart to Holy Uses, it could not without Sacrilege be partaken of by Men, and that from hence the Custom of Burning the Sacrifice took its Original: yet what shall we say to the Expiatory Oblations? And how could Men by any Strength of Reason comprehend the Possibility of a Vicarious Punishment; or hope that the Divine Justice should be appeased by Offerings of this kind, and accept the Life of the Offender's Beast, instead of the forfeit Life of the Offender himself? These things seem to be far out of the Way and Reach of human Discourse; it is scarce, if at all, possible to conceive, what should lead the Generality of Mankind to such Consequences, such Ideas of God as These: And I think little needs be said to convince Men, that the Difference is vastly great between such Religious Rites, and those Moral Duties which have their foundation in the best Reason, and are all of them so coherent, so agreeable to sober and uncorrupted Nature, that the more we attend, and the closer we pursue them, the greater Discoveries we shall be sure to make, and the more consistent will be all our Actions with the first, and most obvious Principles of the Mind. So that no Parity of Argument can lie between these Two.  
The Force of this Reason is sufficiently confessed by the very Learned Asserter of that Other Opinion; nor can he deny, 
Spencer, Lib. III. Cap. iv Diss. II. Sect. II.  (as some, I think, with a design to make short work of it, have done,) that Expiatory Sacrifices were offered before the Law: But then These are supposed to proceed not from any positive persuasion, or good assurance of obtaining Pardon by that means; but some Hope, that God would have regard to the Pious Intention of the Person, and consider and restore him upon that account. Which Opinion Arnobius exposes in such a manner, as plainly to show, that it generally prevailed; and many Testimonies of Heathen Writers themselves confess, that they looked upon God to be capable of being mollified and won over, as Angry Men are, by Submissions, and Presents, and other sweetening Methods. All which Misapprehensions are conceived agreeable to the Darkness of Pagans, and the Simplicity of Earlier Ages.  
Now with all due Reverence to the Authority of those Great Men who urge it, I can by no means satisfy myself with the Colour they give to these Arguments, from the rude unpolished State of Men in the first Ages of the World. This, I know, is a Notion very agreeable to the Heathen Philosophers and Poets, and Their Accounts of the Original of this World, the Progress of Knowledge, and Improvement of Mankind. And This might probably agree well enough with that Age when Abraham and his Seed were chosen out from the midst of a dark and degenerate Race. But whether it agree with the Times of Abel and Noah, and the Antediluvian Fathers, will bear a great Dispute. We fancy perhaps, that, before there was any Written Word, all was dark; but there is no Consequence in That; nor will it follow, because Arts and profitable Inventions for the Affairs of this Life, grew up with the World; that Religion too was in its Infant Weakness and Ignorance in those early Days. St. Chrysostom, I am sure, gives a very different account of the Matter; 
Hom. 1. in Matth.  He says, the Communications of God's Will were more liberal and frequent then; that Men lived in a sort of familiar Acquaintance with him, and were personally instructed in Matters necessary and convenient; much better enabled to worship and serve him acceptably; and because they did not discharge their Duty, and answer their Advantages, that he withdrew from this Friendly way of conversing with Mankind; and then to prevent the utter Loss of Truth, by the Wickedness and Weakness of Men, a Written Word was judged necessary; and That put into Books, which the Corruption of Manners had made unsafe, and would not permit to continue clear and legible, in Men's hearts. In the mean while the Preference he manifestly gives both for Knowledge and Purity, to the First Ages; and compares the Patriarches at the beginning of the World in this Point, to the Apostles at the beginning of Christianity; as Parallels in the Advantages of Revelation, and Spiritual Wisdom, infinitely superior to the succeeding Times of the Church. And it is plain, from Scripture itself, that Enoch, Noah, and other Persons eminently pious, signally rewarded for it, and inspired with God's own Spirit, were some of those early Sacrificers. Persons to whose Character the pretended Simplicity and Ignorance of the first Ages of the World, will very ill agree.  
V There is, I must own, a Great Prejudice against this Divine Institution of Sacrifices, from the Book of Genesis being silent in the thing; it being urged, as a mighty Improbability, that so considerable an Ordinance, and One which grew so general, should have no mention made of its first Command, and Establishment; especially, when so many things of seemingly less moment, are expressly taken notice of; and by that means strengthen the Opinion, which attributes a matter acknowledged on all hands to be of Consequence, to some Original, other than Immediately Divine.  
Now if we consider the Design and Manner of the Book of Genesis, it will by no means appear strange to us, that many things should be omitted; This being I conceive intended chief to give a short Account of the Creation and Fall of Man, the Promise of a Redeemer, and to draw down the Line of Descent to the Chosen Seed, from whence our Saviour sprung, and the People of the Jews, the Figure of the Christian Church, derived themselves. So that Their History and Religion being the principal Subject of the Five Books of Moses, we find very little Enlargement upon Particulars till after the Call of Abraham. For if we consider the Three first Chapters containing the Creation and Fall of our first Parents; the VIth, VIIth, VIIth and IXth giving an Account of the Deluge, and Preservation of Noah's Family; there remain but four more, before the Call of Abraham; and in those the Succession from Adam to Noah, the Dispersion of Noah's Posterity for peopling the World, and the Occasion of that Dispersion, are contained. 'Tis true, some things are inserted which to Us seem of less moment; but, besides that some account may in reason be given, why they should be mentioned, the Holy Spirit, who indicted these Books, was the best Judge of That. But it is also true, that several other things as considerable as This are omitted likewise, which we do not upon that score disbelieve; such particularly, as Those of Times stated, and Assemblies convened for the Public Worship of God; and certainly it is as necessary and as important at least to expect a Revelation for the Solemn Service of God, as for any particular Mode of Serving or Addressing to him.  
I have now laid before my Reader the State of the Case, as They who allege Human Invention for Sacrifices have put it; and in the Answer to those Arguments, have given some for the Contrary Opinion. That the Authorities on that Side are considerable, is acknowledged; but the General Sense of the Christian Church seems to incline to Divine Institution. And the most reasonable account of this Matter, if I apprehend it rightly, stands thus.  
That Almighty God instructed Adam, how he would please to be worshipped, and Adam trained his Family and Posterity, both by Example and Instruction, in the same Solemn Methods of Serving and Addressing to God.  
That from the Time of a Redeemer's being promised, Expiatory Sacrifices were both instituted, and practised; partly as an Intimation to Men of their own Gild, and the final Destruction they deserved; and partly as a Shadow and Prefiguration of that Vicarious Punishment, which God had promised to admit for the Sins of Men; in the Redemption of the World by the perfect Sacrifice of his Son.  
That as no Age of the World can be instanced in, when God did not afford Men some visible Signs, and Sacraments, of his Favour, and the Covenant between Him and Them; so the Ages before the Institution of the Jewish Law, (which abounded with very expressive and particular Significations of this kind) had Sacrifices for that purpose.  
That the Heathen Sacrifices were not pure Inventions of Men, but Corruptions of a Divine Institution. Which being propagated to all the Offipring of Adam, was differently received, and depraved by the Uncertainty of Tradition, long Tract of Time, the Artifice of the Devil, and men's own Vicious Affections. Of which whoever reads the Apologies for Christianity, will find Proofs in abundance: and be convinced that the Pagan Idolatry was built originally upon the Worship of the true God, vitiated and perverted and misapplied. For we must in reason be sensible, that the likeliest, and most usual way, by which the Devil prevails upon Men, is not by empty and groundless Imaginations, or Inventions perfectly new; but by disguising and mimicking the Truth, and raising erroneous and wicked Superstructures upon a good and sound Bottom.  
It is therefore, it seems at least in my poor Opinion, most probable, that the Jewish Ceremonies were indeed adapted to the Egyptian and other Pagan Rites, which the Israelites had been acquainted with, and were not then in a Condition to be entirely weaned from. But withal, that those Pagan Sacrifices were Corruptions of the old Patriarchal; not entirely mere Inventions of their own, but Additions only, and Extravagant Excrescencies of Error, to which the Truth and Positive Institution of God first gave the hints and occasions. For though it can very hardly be conceived how Sacrifices should be of mere human Motion; yet there is no difficulty in supposing, that the Thing once Instituted, and once Established, might be abused, and depraved, to very prodigious and abominable purposes. As it was, no doubt, very early in that universal degeneracy to Idolatry, from which it pleased God to rescue Abraham and his Posterity.  
One very Remarkable Circumstance contributing to the strength of this Opinion is, that almost every where the Ceremonies in the Act of Oblation, seem to be very much alike; which is very Natural to an Exercise and Institution derived down from One common Head; and originally fised by a Positive Command; but scarce conceivable of an Invention merely Human; where Men in all likelihood would have run into as great Diversity, and thought themselves as much at Liberty as they do in the Affairs of Common Life. But especially, the Sacrificing Beasts by way of Atonement obtained universally, and the Imagination of Their Blood being necessary and effectual for Pardon. Which, I confess, if a Dictate of Reason and Nature only, is certainly the strangest, and most remote from any present Conceptions we are able to form of the Dictates of Nature, of Any that ever yet prevailed in the World. And therefore This is scarce accountable for any other way, than from the Promise of a Redeemer and Sacrifice to come, which the Sacrifices of Beasts were in the mean while appointed to represent.  
That such an Institution agrees very well with all the Ends of Sacrifice, is not to be denied. For the Death of the Beast, though not personally felt by the Offender, would yet give him a full and very expressive Idea, of the fatal Consequences of Sin; and the Acceptance of that Life, instead of his own which was forfeited, and by that Act of Sacrificing acknowledged obnoxious to Divine Justice, was a lively representation of the Mercy of God. But still the Apostles Argument is founded in Reason, and may be an Appeal to all Mankind, It is not possible, that the Blood of Bulls and of Goats should take away Sin. And therefore not only Eusebius in his Xth. Chap. of Demonstrat. Evang. Lib. I. ascribes this Worship to Divine Inspiration, but Aquinas says, that before the Law Just Men were instructed by an Inward Instinct after what particular manner God would be Worshipped; as they were afterwards under the Law by External Precepts. So Plato says, That no Mortal Capacity can Know or Determine what is fit to be done in Holy Matters, and therefore forbids the Alteration of the Established Rites and Sacrifices as Impious. And the Testimonies of St. chrysostom and Justin Martyr, 
Taylot's Ductor Dubit. B. II. Chap. 3. N. 30.  have been thought to mean, not so much, that all Sacrifice was a Dictate of Nature, as that some Circumstances relating to it were left to the Dictates of Man's Reason. So that when God had taught Adam and his Posterity, that they should worship in their several Manners; and what he would please to accept; The Manner, and Measure, and such like considerations were left to Choice, and Reason, and Positive Laws. In short, the Religion of our Hearts and Wills, our Prayers and Praises might be natural and the result of mere Reason: but for other external Significations of this, especially any so foreign, as that of Sacrificing; Men were not likely, nor was it fit they should venture, to do any thing of their own Heads. Nor was it probable they would attempt it, for fear of mistakes, and such indecent Expressions, as might be very dishonourable to the God they Worshipped; and rather provoke his Justice by rash and superstitious Affronts, than incline his Mercy by their indiscreet Intentions to please him. And therefore, considering the Confusion Adam was in after the Fall, and the Circumstances of that time, it seems most agreeable to believe, that he waited God's directions, and was fully informed by Him in such a Service, as might at once excite both the Fear and the Love of God; enforce the Offerer's Sorrow and Repentance, and increase his Faith and Hope.  
While my Thoughts were upon this Subject, it came into my mind, that possibly the Tradition of a Redeemer to come, and that God would one day reconcile himself to the World by the Sacrifice of a Man, and his own Son: That this Tradition I say darkened, confounded, and perverted by the Increase of Idolatry, and the Cunning of the Devil, might be abused to the putting Men upon Humane Sacrifices, and particularly those of their own Children. I know there are other accounts to be given of this matter; and I propose this as a mere Conjecture, not otherwise fit to trouble the Reader withal; but that, I believe, if strict inquiry were made, it would be found, that most of the Heathen Abominations in Divine Worship were some way or other at a distance, by Mistake, Imperfect Report, Perverse Interpretations, or by some Cunning Stratagem of the Devil or other, fetched originally from the Revelations and Institutions of the true Religion. And I cannot but think, that it would be great Service to the Truth, if the Falsehoods that have corrupted, and were set up in Opposition to it, could be well traced, and set in the best Light, which this distance will permit. But that must needs be a very laborious Undertaking, and, where a great deal will depend upon Probable Conjecture, will require a very Judicious hand.  
I have thus given the Reader my rough Thoughts upon the Point of Sacrifices, omitting such Proofs for the Opinion I incline to, as seem to me not conclusive, but not any that I am conscious of, on the Other side. There is no danger in either Opinion, considered in itself, but ill Insinuations may be raised from that of Humane Invention; if Men from thence shall pretend to draw Consequences to the Prejudice of Natural Religion; and argue either against the Certainty of, or the Regard due to it; from an Imagination, that Extravagances so wicked, so odd, or so barbarous as the Heathen Rites of Worship, and the Wild Superstitions and unbecoming Notions of God, upon which they were grounded, resulted from Humane Nature, and were the Product of Reason: Rather than the Horrible Depravations of a Supernatural Institution, highly proper and significant, serviceable to excellent purposes, and adapted to those Ages of the World. And in hope of preventing any Consequences of this kind it is, that I thought these Remarks might not be unseasonable. And for the Usefulness, and Light which this Account of Sacrifices brings with it, provided we will follow it in its Natural Consequences; how wise an Institution, how reasonable to be incorporated into the Jewish Law, how providentially dispersed over the whole World; and how preparatory of the Doctrine of the Redemption of Mankind, by predisposing the Gentiles also to believe the Sacrifice of Christ, my Reader may, if he please, be informed to his great Satisfaction, by that Short but Excellent Account of this Matter, given by Dr. Williams, the now Reverend Bishop of Chichester, in his Second Sermon at Mr. boil's Lecture for the Year 1695.  
II. After so long and particular Enlargement upon the First of those Things, wherein I endeavour to prevent any Mistakes that may arise from this Passage; there will need but very little Addition to clear the Other. For if the Arguments for a Divine Institution of Sacrifices cast the Scale, the Business is already done to our hands: and if they be admitted of human Invention, yet according to all the Schemes of this Matter laid down by the Asserters of it, Sacrificers at first were moved by Apprehensions of God very different from that of his taking Delight in the Sufferings of his Creatures. For they Represent Sacrifices as the effects of Gratitude, a Mind impatient to make some sort of Return, and pay back such Acknowledgements at least of His Goodness who gave All, as the dedicating the Best of his Gifts to him could amount to. And accordingly, This Circumstance of choosing the Best for Sacrifice seems to have been as universally observed, as the Duty of Sacrificing itself. This is the Reason alleged by some for slaying Beasts, as being the Best of all their Substance; and upon the same account too those kinds which were esteemed best for Food. This perhaps was one Motive abused afterwards even to the introducing that Abomination of sacrificing Men, and Children; Virgins and Firstborn. And even in Expiatory Sacrifices, could these possibly have been invented by Men, yet 'tis plain the Persuasion of a Beast being accepted as a Ransom for the Owner, must include an Idea of Mercy and Condescension at least in the Deity, which was content with such a Compensation.  
It argued, I confess, very gross Notions of God to suppose, that such things could be Presents fit for a Pure Spirit, and the Majesty of Heaven and Earth, which every Superior among Men would disdain and detest. But This grew by degrees, and the Other, of his being a Sanguinary Being delighted with the Fumes of Reaking Altars, and drinking the Blood of Goats, was owing to the Superstition and Idolatry of later and degenerate Times; and is a Thought, which Those who first practised this way of Worship, whether by Instruction, or their own mere Motion, were never supposed guilty of by any that have undertaken to consider the Nature and Original of the Patriarchal Sacrifices.  
Nay, I add too upon this occasion, That the Notions mentioned in this Chapter, which it is to be feared are but too commonly entertained of Severities, and Satisfactions (as they are called) own themselves to the same Causes, and are the Genuine Extract of Hypocrisy, Superstition, and formal Devotion. That Fast, and voluntary Mortifications are of excellent Use in Religion, no sober Man ever doubted. They are profitable in many Cases, and in some Necessary. They assist us in conquering our Appetites and Passions; and subdue the Man, by beating down the Outworks: They express a very becoming Indignation against ourselves, in the Exercise of Repentance; and are oftentimes instrumental in heightening and inflaming our Devotion: But that they are Good and Meritorious in themselves, or any farther valuable than as they serve to promote our Improvement in some Virtues or Graces that are Substantially Good; especially that God likes us the better merely because we use ourselves the worse, is a very Fantastical and Erroneous Imagination: And such as any Communion or Party of Men by Encouraging, do great Injury to the Honour of God, deceive the Souls of Penitents, and hinder the Essentials of Religion, which are Faith and Newness of Life. In short, They expos: Religion in general to the scorn of all those, who see the Foppery and unreasonableness of those mistaken Methods; and call the very foundations of it into Question, by tempting such to think, that it is all Invention and Trick, and Empty Senseless Formality.   

Advertisement the Second.  
Book II. Chap. 5. Sect. 8.  
Monsieut Charron hath in this Section put together Two Objections against the Divine Origine of Religion, and such as, no doubt do it prejudice, in the Minds of Men, who do not attend to the Reasons of things, and judge impartially. The First concerns the Manner of Propagating Religion, and Man's first entrance into it. The Second, That want of Efficacy, which one would expect an Institution coming immediately from God, must needs have upon the Lives and Actions of Those who have Embraced, and profess to be Governed by it.  
I. 
Page 125.  The Former of These, is urged to be only a matter of Custom and Necessity, the Fate of a Man, rather than his Choice; who if Adult, is brought over by Custom and Multitudes; and if an Infant, is presently initiated into the prevailing Persuasion of his Country, or his Family, and so continues all his Life long.  
Now for Custom, and Multitudes, and Example, it is very evident, This was much otherwise in the first Plantation of Religion; that of the Christian in particular. A Persuasion, which, it is manifest, came into the World with all possible disadvantages; and the Establishment whereof was one of the most amazing Miracles, that ever was wrought since the Beginning of the World. For People had common Sense then as well as now; and all the Corruptions of Human Nature were equally powerful. There was the same Arrogance and Vain Opinion of their own Wisdom, to render the Mysteries which are acknowledged above the Comprehension of a Human Mind, offensive to the Men of some Learning and more Vanity: The same sensual Appetites and Vicious Practices to hold out and stand at defiance, against the Precepts of Chastity and Sobriety, Self-denial and Mortification: The same Pride and Opinion of Worldly Grandeur to raise their Indignation and Disdain of a Crucified Saviour; The same Love of the World and Tenderness for their Persons to prevent any rash Sacrificing of their Lives and Estates for a Persecuted Faith, when nothing was promised in Reward but a very distant Happiness after Death. And yet notwithstanding prevail that Faith did; in despite of Human Opposition, and Interest; and prevail it could not have done, by any other means, than the Almighty Power of its Author and Protector, and the Astonishing Effects which the Conviction of its Truth produced upon men's Consciences. This certainly was Argument sufficient, even to Demonstration, that those Words were not in any degree misapplied, when put into the Mouth of Christianity, and its Preachers; Not of Man, neither by Man, nor of any other Creature, but of God.  
And shall it be esteemed any Prejudice to this Religion, that Men do not still lie under the same Difficulties, in the Choice of it? When it hath made its own way triumphantly, and weatied out, or won over its Persecutors, shall the Multitude of its Professors, and the Peaceable and Easy Exercise of it be thought to derogate from its Authority? Sure it is very unreasonable, that Faith should be thought of Divine Extract, no longer than while it bids Men embrace it at their Peril. The being handed down in Families is a plain and natural Effect of an Established Principle. Parents could not have the Affection which becomes their Character, did they not take all lawful and Commendable Methods of putting their Children into the same way to Heaven, which they trust they are in themselves. Especially, if the Case lie between any other Persuasion, and Christianity; which we have reason to believe is the only possible Ordinary way thither. The entering Children early into Covenant with God is a very Profitable, and Charitable Custom; what He himself not only admitted, but enjomed formerly; and since He is much more eminently the Father of the Christians, than of the Jews, we have no reason to suspect they shall be less favourably received, when as early dedicated to him. This gives Security, that they shall be taught, when their Years enable them to learn, how they ought to believe and act; so that if their Religion afterwards be merely the effect of Custom and Example, This is utterly beside the Design of Those early Initiations, where the Express Contrary is positively indented for. If Men happen to be bred up in a wrong Persuasion, there is little Question to be made, but great and gracious Allowances will be made for that fast hold, which the Prepossessions of Education have taken. But be they in the right, or in the wrong, it is every One's duty, so far as his Opportunities and Capacity will give him leave to examine and see, that he may have comfort, and be better established in the Truth; or else retract his Error: Where This is not done, it is a neglect, and far from the intent of Truth; for Truth will bear Enquiry, and the more nicely she is looked into, the better she is liked, the more admired, and triumphs, and reigns more absolute. St. Peter positively commands, that we should be ready to give a Reason of the Hope that is in us; 
1 Pet. III. 15.  and though Men are more disposed to consider, when their Opinions are like to cost them dear, yet the Reason of the Command is Universal, and by no means restrained to Times of Persecution only. Every Man should do his best to obey it, and every Persuasion ought to encourage it; and if any do not, but hid the Key of Knowledge, either by detaining the Scriptures, or not leaving Men to the Free Use of Modest and Impartial Reason, These are the Men, who are most contrary to St. Peter, and best deserve the Censure of Monsieur Charron in this Passage.  
II. The Second Insinuation against the Divine Authority of Religion, is taken from the Visible Inefficacy of it upon Men's Lives; as if all that came from God must needs be effectual for reforming the World. Now This, how popular and plausible soever at first appearance, yet is an Argument of no Foundation or Strength at all. For the Short of the Matter lies here. Religion never was intended to destroy Men's Nature, but only to mend it: to change Men indeed in their Affections and Inclinations, but so as that this Change should be wrought by themselves. Hence it is, that though the Grace of God be Almighty, yet Man is not a proper Object for its Omnipotence to exert itself upon. For should he be forced even to his own Good, that Compulsion would not only take away the Merit of the Act, but the very Nature of the Person, whose very distinguishing Character, is Choice and Freedom of Consent. And therefore God deals with us as he made us; he lets us want nothing, that we can enjoy the Benefit of, and continue Men; he instructs, suggests, persuades, counsels, encourages, promises, threatens, puts opportunities into our hands, and gives us a power of using them; but it will depend upon ourselves at last, whether these shall have a good effect or not. We can do no good without Him; but neither will He do it without Us, nor indeed, according to the present Scheme and Constitution of Things, is it at all conceivable how he can. So that the Actions of Men not answering the Efficacy which might be expected from the Revelation of an Almighty God, is no Argument against those Principles coming from Him, which are not better obeyed; because this is not a Case for him to exert his Almighty Power in: And though he wrought many Miracles formerly for the Consirmation of the Truth by virtue of that power; yet we never find, that he ever used that power for the forcing a belief of those Miracles; but Men were left to their own Consideration and Liberty, what Interpretation they would make of them; and as they determined themselves, Belief or more Obstinate Infidelity was the Effect of it.  
Nor is it true, that Wicked Men do not believe Religion; It is but too sure, that they endeavour as much as they can not to believe it, when Matters are come to that pass, that the Belief of it grows uneasy to them. It is indeed confessed, that our Persuasion is the very Spring upon which all our Actions move. But then there must a distinction be made between the Habit and the Act of Faith. For a Man may entertain an Opinion, and yet do some things contrary to it, because that Opinion may not in the instant of Action occur to him; and then, as to all effect indeed, it is the same, as if he thought it not. Thus a Man may believe Christianity, but through the Strength of Passion, through the Surprise or Violence of a Temptation, through Rashness or Incogitancy, Multitude and Intricacy of Business, Inordinate Affection of the World, or the like he may not attend to what he believes, or he may not consider it sufficiently, or not allow the Future its due weight, when set against the Present. Now though such a Person, as to all the purposes of doing well, be pro hîc & nunc, as an Infidel; yet there is a great difference between Him in the general, and One who does not believe at all. This Man, though he does not act in consistence with himself, hath yet a dormant Habit, which, when the Paroxysm is off, the Temptation removed, the Passion abated, or the like, may by Recollection, and Sober Sense be awakened; and than it will at least check him for what is past, and may (till he hath sinned himself past feeling) be a considerable Restraint upon him. But the Other hath nothing to inform, nothing to control him: And though a Man in sleep may appear to the Standards by to be dead, yet we know what difference there is in the thing itself. This I take to be a sufficient Account of even good Men's sinning often, and some Bad Men doing it very scandalously, and yet retaining the Faith; which if pursued through all its Consequences, and applied closely and warmly to their Consciences, would show them the abominable Contradiction they live in to their own Minds, and make them quite another sort of persons.  
From hence I suppose the Reader will naturally draw to himself these following Reflections. 

1. That Men are not wrought upon by Things as they are in themselves, but by their own Apprehensions of them. They act by the dictates of their own Minds, and as they are persuaded. It is not the Happiness of Heaven, or the Misery of Hell, that excites to any one Good, or affrights from any one Evil Action, in their own Nature; but the Idea, and as I conceive of them. And consequently, in proportion as I desire the One, and dread the Other, such will my Care be to practise, or to decline those things, to which the Promises and Threaten of God are annexed.  
2. That to make this Persuasion effectual, it is necessary it should be present to the Mind. For that which is not present at the time of Action, is to all effect for that time as if it were not. This shows the Necessity of Meditation, and much Thought upon the Principles of, and Motives to Religion; since Faith will not, cannot work, by barely being assented to; but by being vigorously and lively impressed upon the Conscience, warm, and ready upon every new Assault. And this gives us a very Rational Account, how it is possible, and why it should be common, for a Man to entertain all the Principles of a true Faith, and upon Premeditation be able to say as much for it as is possible; nay, to persuade himself as well as others, that he is a very sincere Believer; and yet lead a Life very contrary to that Belief. For this proceeds from his thinking a hearty Assent to the Truth of a Doctrine sufficient; and it is so indeed, to denominate him a Professor; whereas to make him a Good Man, that Assent signifies little, unless it be followed, and frequently inculcated, so as to season his Mind throughly, and upon all occasions to be at hand, and vigorous and fresh; for without These qualities, it can never be a Principle of Action.  
3. That consequently the Inconsistence of Men's Lives with their Profession, can be no just Objection against Religion; because the Fault plainly lies not in the Principles, but in Men's neglect to improve them. And when we would be convinced of the Goodness of any Persuasion, we are to judge the Tree by its Fruits; (not the Faith by the Practices it produces actually in Men's Lives, as that Expression is frequently misapplied, but) by the Good Actions it would produce, if Men would let it have a due influence upon them, follow it as far as it will carry them, and live up to what they profess. The Men who do otherwise, are very , and lay a stumbling-block before the weak, by bringing dishonour upon Religion, and tempting them to suspect its Power and Excellence; But it is only the Weak who stumble at it; for there is not, nor ever was in the Affairs of Religion, or of any other kind, any Scheme of Rules or Opinions, where all the persons who made Profession of them, acted in all points accordingly. And at this rate all manner of Goodness, and Virtue, Natural, as well as Acquired, and Revealed, must be questioned, and exploded; and the very first Dictates of Human Nature will not escape the same Fate. Of such Eternal Equity and Truth is that old Axiom, Fides non è Personis, sed contrà. And the Christian Faith will sufficiently clear its own Divine Original, if we will but give it free Course, and suffer it to draw us to a Resemblance of that Excellence, which first Inspired and taught it.     

Book II. Chap. XI. Sect. 10.  
According to the Custom of the Egyptians, etc. The Meaning of this Custom is very often misunderstood, and misapplied. For whereas the Bringing this Death's head in to the Company at Public Entertainments, is frequently looked upon as done with a design to check the Excesses of Mirth, with this Melancholy, but never Unseasonable Reflection: Both Herodotus in his Euterpe, and Plutarch in his Tract de Isid. & Osiride, give a quite different Account of the Matter; and report it to have been done for the heightening of their Jollity; by considering, that their Time was but short, and therefore they ought to make the best of it. This Emblem in effect speaking that Maxim of the Epicure, Let us Eat and Drink, for to morrow we die.   

Book II. Chap. XI. Sect. 18. Page 289.  
Although the Answers to these Pretences usually alleged in favour of Self-murder be in a great measure taken off in the latter part of the Section; and the Determination at last be sound and good; yet in regard those Returns are general, and do not reach every Particular; I will so far trespass upon the Reader's Patience, as to run over this part of the Argument, Period by Period, as fresh Matter arises; and observe to him, what hath been, or may very reasonably be replied upon each of the Excuses produced here, (for I rather call them Excuses than Justifications) to give Countenance to that Unnatural Act of Self-murder.  
First, It is urged that there are great Examples for it in all Story, and of Persons of all Persuasions, particularly, those of Razias and the Women under the Tyranny of Antiochus among the Jews; and Pelagia and Sophronia among the Christians; the Former drowning herself to escape the Rudeness of the Soldiers; the Latter stabbing herself to get free from the Lust of Maxentius.  
Now here in the first place I observe by the way. That Example in General is a very insufficient and deceitful Rule; nor can we always make any sure Conclusions of the Lawfulness or Unlawfulness of a Fact, by the Relation given of it. Because many times the Thing is commended with regard to One Part or Circumstance, and yet not thereby justified as to all the rest; This, I say, when there is a Commendation positively added to it; but many, if not most, are barely related, and left for Us to interpret, without any Character at all fixed upon them. Nay, I add farther, that the Circumstances of Person, Time, and several others of the like nature, are so infinitely different that, as it is exceeding hard for Us, who are not perfectly acquainted with the Reasons and Motives upon which others act, to pass an exact and true Judgement upon their Actions; so is it much more difficult to find Instances, where Their Circumstances and Ours shall agree so nicely and in every Particular, that we shall deserve just the same Commendation, or Blame, which they did, by imitating their Proceed. Thus much was not amiss to be hinted, concerning the Fallacy of Examples in general, and how very unfit they are to be made a Rule for the Behaviour of other People. I shall now touch briefly, upon each of the Particulars   
As for That of Razias It is indeed delivered after such a manner, as seems to carry a Commendation with it, but this is only a Commendation of his Valour, and Heroic Greatness of Soul; not of the Virtue of the Action, or any thing which might render it Imitable by others. St Augustine's Reflection upon it is, Dictum est quod elegerit nobiliter mori; 
Cap. xxiii. contra 2. Epist. Gaudent.  meliùs vellet humiliter, sic enim utiliter. Illis autem verbis historia Gentium laudare consuevit, sed viros forte hujus seculi, non Martyres Christi. His Character (says he) is, That he chose to die Nobly; it had been much better if the Commendation had been, that he chose to die Modestly and Humbly; for This had been a profitable way of Dying. But those are Pompous Terms, usual in Profane Story, such as are counted an Honour to the Men of this World, but not to Martyrs for Christ. The Account in the Maccabecs expresses his resolute Detestation of Idolatry, and that is commendable; but certainly had he been taken, and suffered Torments and Death under Nicanor, his Praise had been much more just, and his Character clear and indisputable. For even Persecution itself is not a Reason sufficient for our making this Escape; according to that of St. Jerome in his Comment upon Jonah: Non est nostrum Mortem arriperc, sed illatam ab alijs libenter excipere. Under & in persecutionibus non licet propriâ perire manu. It is not our business to bring death upon ourselves, 
2 Mac. xiv. 37, etc.  but to receive it willingly, when inflicted by Others; and for this Reason even the Case of Persecution will not warrant a Man's dying by his own hand. But in truth, Razias his Case, as the Historian describes it, was none of this; for his Account at the 42d Verse is very Remarkable. He fell upon his sword, choosing rather to die manfully, than to come into the hands of the wicked, to be abused otherwise than beseemed his Noble Birth. So that Razias at this rate was what the World vainly calls a Man of Honour, and his Life was sacrificed to that Principle: Had he done this Act to avoid offending God, it had had a fairer Pretence at least, though neither would That have excused it; but to kill himself for fear of Indignities, and Affronts not fit for a Man of his Quality to submit to; this was far from a Religious Principle; and we cannot wonder that the Commendation it receives hath given so strong a Prejudice to the Church against the Book of Maccabees, as not to admit it into their Canon of Scripture. I add too upon this occasion, that some have thought this whole matter a Fiction; 
Spanhem. de Author. Lib. Apocryph. in Disp. Theol. V. 41. 43. 44. 45. 46.  and I confess the Circumstances are very Odd and Romantic; That a Man should fall upon his Sword first; then leap down from a Wall into the midst of his Enemies; That they should make way for him, where he fell among the thickest of them; that he should rise up again in anger, but withal in such a Condition, that his blood gushed out like Spouts of Water, and his Wounds were very grievous; but he ran through the midst of the throng notwithstanding, and standing upon a steep rock, When his blood was now quite gone, he plucked out his bowels, took them in both his hands, cast them upon the Crowd; and yet for all this, his Senses it seems were not lost at the last Gasp, but after all those wonderful Exploits this was not the least wonderful, that he should have the Use of his Understanding so perfect, as to call upon God to restore him those Bowels again; and so die. This I thought not amiss to hint; and let them look both to the Truth of the Story, and the Justice of the Commendition, who have entitled these Books to an equal Authority with the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament.  
That Instance of the Women under the Tyranny of Antiochus, I do not understand, for if it refer to those mentioned, 2 Macc. VI 10. they seem to have been thrown headlong from the Wall, by the hands of Executioners. But if they had done it themselves, their Case had been somewhat more Pitiable, but not more Imitable, than that of Razias.  
Those of Pelagia and Sophronia are indeed extolied, but yet St. Jerom, who in one place makes the preserving of Chastity an Exception, and the only reserved Case from what I quoted out of him just now against Dying by one's own hand in Persecutions; says in another place without exception. 
Epist. ad Marc.  That God receives no Souls who come without his orders. Deus non recipit Animas, quae se nolente exterunt è corpore. And whether this Case of Theirs was a Call, notwithstanding the Advocates and Applauses they have found, is greatly to be questioned. For what is the Chastity God requires? Is it not that of the Mind? Can not God have restrained even those lascivious Intentions? Does not Eusebius in the very same Chapter, wherein he relates this Act of Sophronia delivering herself from Maxentius, 
Euseb. Eccles. Hist. L VIII. Ch. XIV.  particularly tell of a Christian Lady at Alexandria, who not being any way to be conquered by Maximin, he would not so much as Kill her for her obstinacy, nor indeed Force her Person, but in the Conflict of Rage and Lust, at last only Confiscated her Goods, and sent her into Banishment? But supposing God had permitted the soul Act; yet so long as the Mind was unblemished, here had been no Gild, but rather a double Martyrdom. If you say, they might possibly suspect, that they should in the Commission of the Fact, have been polluted with sinful Inclinations. 'Tis easy to Answer, That this is but a Fear, but a bare Possibility; and if an Act be, Otherwise, and in the general, Unlawful, the bare avoiding a possible Sin, cannot make it lawful to break a Command, and by going against God and Nature, 
1 Cor. X. 13. 2 Cor. XII.  commit and choose a certain Sin. He has promised, That he will not suffer his Servants to be tempted, above that they are able, and declared that our Weakness can never be so great, but that his grace is sufficient for us; with many other gracious Promises, which it is a great fault in us to distrust, even in our greatest Straits and Necessities. And to deliver ourselves by Methods, contrary to his Laws, is to distrust them, for we are to expect the Assistance of his Grace, and the Protection of his Providence in the use of those Means, and observance of those Rules he hath given us. And therefore I cannot conceive how the fear of falling into Sin only, can possibly render that Action Lawful, which otherwise, and generally speaking, is itself a Sin and Unlawful. Methinks therefore we should do well in this Case to distinguish with our Saviour in the Parable of the Unjust Steward; and as he commended the Wisdom of that Man, without approving his Injustice; so we may allow all possible Praise to the Gallantry, and Constancy of these Female Martyrs; without allowing, that the Course they took to preserve their Virtue, 
Tom. 1. Front. Ducae. 628. compared with Comment on Gal. I. 4.  was strictly regular and good. And thus St. Chrysostom seems to have done, who, notwithstanding the great Encomium given of Pelagia in one place, yet speaks of this Act of dying by one's own hand in very severe Terms in another; and declares without exception, that the Christians had all such Persons in abhorrence; and that they were more guilty before God than any other murderers. And some of those Instances, which were thought hard to condemn, the Vindicators have not well known how to acquit, otherwise than by a presumption of a particular Impulse of God, which was for that Time and Action a Dispensation to the General Law. So St. Augustin of Samson, Spiritus latenter hoc jusserat, qui per illum miracula faciebat. The same Spirit which wrought Miracles by him, gave him a Secret Command to do this thing. And Lipsius speaking of these very Women says, Monitum aut Jussio Dei hîc quoque praesumenda; 
Lip. Manuduc. ad Philos. Stoic. Cap. XXIII.  That a Command, or at least some Instinct and Direction from God, is to be presumed in their Case, as well as Sampson's; and he had St. Augustin's own Authority, he says, for this presumption. All which, when duly considered, as it will not warrant us to censure these Persons as to their Eternal State, so neither will it warrant our Imitating such Actions, or arguing from thence in defence of such Behaviour, or for the Extenuating the Sin of Self-murder. For whatever they might be in Themselves, 'tis sure they are no Pattern to Us; and if God see sit to Allow, or the Church to Commend their Zeal, it will still become us to observe, and beware of the Irregularities of it.  
The Examples which follow of Cities, destroying themselves rather than they would lie at the Mercy of the Conquerors, whatever appearance they may have of Fortitude and Gallantry, yet as to the point of Conscience, and Lawfulness, they are certainly , and fall under the same Censure, which is afterwards given of Cato, and others Page 294. N. 3, 4.  
The Custom of Marseilles, and the Isle of Ceô, 
Valer. Maxim. Lib II. Cap. VI F. 7, 8.  where Persons willing to Die made no scruple of doing it, having first obtained the Judgement and Approbation of the Senate, and by Poison kept on purpose, and prepared at the Public Charge, is only a Permission and Allowance, and does by no means take off the Gild and Injustice of making ourselves a way; except only in that single Point, that here the Public is not injured, having expressly consented to the loss of that Member. But in all other respects the Fact was Wicked and Abominable, and is reported to have had no other foundation, than Affliction, or Extreme old Age, or in general a Weariness of Life.  
Nor will the next Argument hold, concerning the Desire of Death; for supposing, that whatsoever a Man is allowed to desire, he is likewise allowed to procure to himself, (which yet is not universally true) yet this Desire itself is faulty, when it grows into Impatience, and is not content to wait God's methods, and God's leisure. And there is great difference between meeting Death gladly, and running into it; between receiving our Release with Satisfaction, and breaking Prison. So far therefore as this Desire is consistent with Patience, and Resignation to the Divine Will, so far it is truly Magnanimous and Commendable, and no farther.  
To that Question, What Law does this offend against, it is easy to answer, Against the Laws of God, and of Nature, against the Condition of Mankind, against our Duty to the Public; against the Sixth Commandment in particular, which no more argues us Guiltless when we Kill ourselves, because chief designed to restrain us from Killing Others; than it can be proved from the Seventh, that we do not Sin against our own Bodies, when we Invade fewer Bed. The Love of ourselves is proposed as the standard of our Love to others; and the Rule must be supposed as perfect at least, as the thing to be regulated by it. If there be no Prohibition against this in express words, it was because none was thought needful; and sure it is no excuse to say, That no Law is violated in Terms, When the Case was such as needed not Law. As to the other part of the Argument, That Men may dispose of themselves as they please, and a willing Person can receive no Injury; it supposes an Absolute Right to dispose of ourselves, such as no Creature hath with respect to God and Providence, and no Man can have with regard to the several Relations and Dependencies in which he is engaged.  
And if so little can be said for this Horrid Fact, when the most favourable Cases are put; How detestable and impious must it needs be, when Disgrace, or Poverty, Disappointments and Crosses, Raging Passions, and Repining at Providence, prevail with Men to commit it? For these are such Motives as no body ever undertook to justify, and the Stoics themselves, who went the farthest in this matter, yet stopped short of these, and, to speak the Truth, even wavered in all the rest. A more full account whereof I refer my Reader for to Lipsii Manuduc. ad Stoic. Philosoph. Lib. III. Cap. XXIII, XXIV. and for a larger discussion of this whole matter, to Spanhem. Disput. Theolog. De Lib. Apocryph. Authoritate. Disp. XIII, XIV and Bishop Taylor, 
1. De Civ. Cap XXVI.  Ductor Dubitant. Book III. Chap. 2. Rule 3. From all which compared, St. Augustin's determination I doubt not will seem most reasonable; His exceptis, quos vel Lex justa, vel ipse Fons Justitiae Deus jubet occidi; quisquis Hominem, vel seipsum, vel quemlibet occiderit, Homicidij crimine innectitur. Those only excepted, whom either a just Law, or God himself, who is the Fountain of all Justice shall command to put to Death; whosoever shall kill any Person, be it himself, or any other Man, he becomes thereby guilty of Murder; and is Answerable for his Blood.    

Of WISDOM.  

The Third BOOK.  
In which, Particular Rules are laid down, and Directions for the several Parts and Offices of Wisdom, branched out under Four General Heads, as they have relation, and are reducible, to the Four Cardinal Virtues,  


The PREFACE.  
OUR Design in this Last Part of the present Treatise, being to give the Reader the most particular Instructions we can possibly, and so to follow and complete the General Rules of Wisdom, touched upon in the Book foregoing; the most Convenient and Methodical way of proceeding seemed to me, to range all I have to say under the Four great Moral Virtues; of Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance: Since these are of a comprehension so large, that it is almost impossible to instance in any Duty of Morality or Practical Religion, which is not directly contained, or may very fairly be reduced within the compass of them. Prudence supplies the place of a Director and Governor; it instructs Us in other Virtues, and is the Guide of our Life, and all the Actions of it; though indeed it be more peculiarly concerned in matters of Dealing, and good Conduct, and its strict, proper Notion is Dexterity in the Management of Business. Now, as This regards Actions, so Justice, which is the next, is chief concerned about Persons; for the Province of Justice is, to render to every Man his due. Fortitude and Temperance have respect to the Events of Human Life; the Prosperous and Adverse, such as move our Passions, and are matter of Joy or Grief, of Pleasure or Pain to us. Now it is plain, that these Three, Persons, and Actions, and Contingencies, extend to all the parts of Human Life; and our Condition and Deal in the World cannot possibly oblige us to be conversant with, or employed about any thing whatsoever, which is not comprehended under One or Other of these Considerations.   

CHAP. I. Of Prudence in general.  
THere is great Reason, 
It's Excellence.  why Prudence should have the first and most honourable place allotted to it; because it is really the Queen of Virtues; the general Superintendent, that presides over, and giveth directions to all the Rest. Where this is wanting, there can be no such thing as Goodness or Beauty, Propriety or Decency. It is the very Salt of Life, the Lustre and Ornament of all our Actions; That which recommends them to the Eye, and gives them that Seasoning and Relish which is necessary; 'Tis the Square and Rule, by which all our Affairs ought to be measured and adjusted; and, in one Word, This is the Art of Acting and Living, as the Science of Physic is the Art of Health.  
Prudence consists in the Knowledge and the Choice of those things, 
Definition.  which it concerns us to desire or to decline: It is a just and true Valuation first, and then a picking and culling out the best: It is the Eye that sees every thing, and conducts our Motions and Steps accordingly. The Parts or Offices of it are Three, and these all naturally consequent, and in order after one another. The First is Consulting and Deliberating well; the Second, Judging and Resolving well; the Third, Managing and Executing those Resolutions well.  
It is very deservedly esteemed an Universal Virtue; 
'Tis Universal.  because of a Comprehension so general, so vast, that all manner of Actions and Accidents belonging to Humane Life are within its Extent and Jurisdiction; and This, not only considering them in the gross, but each of them singly and in particular; So that This is as infinite, as all those Individuals put together.  
You cannot wonder, if the next Property I assign to it be that of Difficult; 
Difficult.  the infinite Compass I have already mentioned must needs make it so: For Particulars, as they cannot be positively numbered, so they cannot be fully understood. It is a standing Rule, 
* Si quae siniri non poss●nt, extra sapi●ntiam sunt.  That whatever is infinite, exceeds the Bounds of Wisdom. But that which adds yet more to the Hardship, is the great Uncertainty and Inconstancy of Human Affairs; which is still rendered more intricate and unaccountable, by the inexpressible Variety of Accidents, Circumstances, Appurtenances, Dependencies, and Consequences; the Difference of Times, and Places, and Persons. And each of these is of so considerable Importance, that the Change of one single Circumstance, even such as may seem least and of no account, produces a very great Alteration, and sets quite another Face upon the whole Matter. This Difficulty is likewise greater and more evident, upon account of the Office, in which this Virtue is employed; which consists in mustering together Contraries, and then tempering them in just proportions with one another, so as to qualify the whole at last, in the best manner the Case will admit. Another part of this Office, is Distinguishing aright between things that are like, and making a wise Choice by discerning Real from Seeming Good, and preferring a Greater to a Less of the same Kind. Now all these things are puzzling, and full of Confusion; for Contrariety and Resemblance both agree in this, that either of them is a great Impediment, and creates Doubt and Irresolution.  
And, as the Executive Part of Prudence is exceeding difficult, 
Obscure.  so the Discerning part is subject to great Obscurity; by reason the first Causes and Springs of Things, from whence they arise, and by which they are moved and carry●d on, are secret and unknown; and, like the Seeds and Roots of Plants, lie deep in the Ground, and far out of sight; so deep, that Human Nature cannot dive to the bottom of them; and some of them so mysterious too, that it is as criminal to inquire into them, as it is impossible to satisfy ourselves by such Enquiry. 
* Occultat corum semina Deus, & plerunque benerum malorumque causa sub diversa specielatent.  Providence hath thought fit to conceal the Seeds of these things; and it often happens, that the Causes of Good and Bad Effects lie hid, and disguise themselves under very different Appearances. And besides all this, there is that strange Turn of Chance, that unaccountable Fatality, (call it what you please) that Supreme, Secret, Unknown Power, which always maintains its Authority, and gives the finishing stroke, in despite of all the properest Methods, and wisest Precautions we can use. From hence it comes to pass, that the best-laid Designs, and most regular Proceed, are very frequently most unfortunate in the Event. The very same Course taken by One Man succeeds according to his heart's Desire; and with Another crosses all his Expectations; and yet the Case to all Human appearance is the same in both, and no reason can be given for such contrary Issues. Nay, the same Man found those very Methods successful yesterday, which, when he tries again to day, baffle all his Designs and Dependencies; and he who was a Winner but just now, plays the same Game over twice, and the second time loses all. This Lottery of Fortune gave just occasion for that received Rule, That no Man's Counsel, or Capacity, can be rightly measured by his Success. And He was certainly in the right, who told some of his Friends, that stood amazed at his ill Fortune, when they observed a more than common Wisdom in all his Discourse and Behaviour: Look you, gentlemans, this does not mortify me at all; I am Master of my Methods, and capable of judging what is proper and convenient; but Events are what no Man alive can govern, or insure to himself: This is Fortune's doing, which seems to take a kind of envious Joy, in defeating our subtlest Projects, and diverts herself with our Disappointments; She in an instant blasts our Hopes, and overturns the most regular Schemes, which have cost the Study and Care of many Years to draw and design; and when all the matter is duly considered and resolved; when we have advanced so far, that nothing remains but the last Act; when all is brought to Bear, (as we call it) she nails up all our Cannon, and puts a full stop to all the Execution we intended. And in truth, This is the only way Fortune takes to make herself great, and maintain her Credit in the World; thus she exerts her Power over the Affairs of Humane Life; or, to speak more truly, and in language more besitting the mouth of Christians, 'Tis Thus, that Providence takes down our Pride and mortifies our Presumption: Fools cannot be made Wise by Chance and of a sudden; but then, to check the Vanity of those who have the advantage in Parts, They are frequently successful, even to a degree that may provoke the Envy of Virtue and Wisdom itself. Accordingly we may often observe, that Persons of very indifferent Capacities, and small Attainments, have been able to accomplish vast Undertake, both public and private; while others of more Masterly Judgements have been defeated in matters of less difficulty. From all which Reflections my Reader plainly perceives, that Prudence is a boundless and a bottomless Sea; never to be limited by positive Precepts, or reduced to certain and standing Rules; because the Subject it is concerned with is fickle and inconstant, like the Sea too; and all our Measures must be changed, all are liable to be broke, as oft as the Winds change. One cross Blast blows us back again, or dashes us to pieces upon the Rocks; and neither the best Vessel, nor the best Pilot can be proof against this Stress of Wether. All then, that Prudence can engage for, is to be circumspect, and consider every Circumstance in the several lights it is capable of; but still the most discerning Man is in the Clouds; The greatest Judgement and Application finds all its Endeavours frivolous and vain, and that, when he thought he saw all things clearly, he was all the while groping, and blundering in the dark.  
And yet, notwithstanding we cannot arrive to a commanding and infallible Certainty, 
Necessary.  this Virtue must be acknowledged of exceeding great weight, and absolute Necessity. For thus much is her just due; that what is possible to be effected must be compassed by her assistance; that though she cannot do All, she can do a great deal; and that, however Men are not constantly successful with her, yet without her all their Attempts are frivolous and perfectly insignificant. Not only Riches, but Power, and Opportunities, and Strength for Action, are impotent and vain, if destitute of Wisdom to use them.  

* Vis consilì expers mole ruit suâ, etc. Hor. Lib. 3. Od. 4.  Rash Force by its own weight must fall:  
But prudent Strength will still prevail,  
For such the Gods assist and bless.  

† Mens una sapiens plurium vincit manus.  One good Head is better than a great many Hands. 
⁂ Multa, quae naturâ impedita sunt, consilio expediuntur. Liv.  Many things that Nature hath made intricate and difficult, are made easy and very feasible by good Consideration and Advice. Nor does what I urged in the former Paragraph at all invalidate the Truth of these Observations; because, though Prudence be not the never-failing Cause, yet it is the usual Cause of Success. God does not always prosper men's wisest Projects; To convince us, that the World is not governed without him: But he for the most part prospers fit and proper means, to encourage our Industry, and as a proof, that the World is governed regularly by him. Now That, which principally requires Our Prudence, is, that we have to do with Men, and the corrupt Disposition of the Persons we deal with, their perverse unmanageable Temper, makes Address necessary in all our Transactions. For of all Creatures in the Universe, there is not any so hard to be subdued and brought to compliance, as Mankind; 
* 
Impatienns aequi, nedum servitutis.  Senec. de Clement.  They who cannot bear so much as Equity, and Neighbours far, must needs be much less contented with Subjection and Slavery. And therefore nothing less than great Art and Industry is sufficient to reduce and keep them in order. For though we are always disposed to mutiny against them that are in any respect our Superiors, and to fall soul upon People of all Conditions; yet we never do it with so much Zeal, and such eager Malice, as when we make Head against those who pretend to Authority and Dominion over us. Now Prudence is the knack of managing Mankind, and keeping this Factious Principle under; a slack and gentle Rein, by which the Skilful Rider keeps this Skittish Horse in the Road, and Ring of Obedience.  
Now, although Nature have implanted this, as well as other Virtues in us, and more or less, in proportion to every Man's Capacity and Parts; and, though it be from those Original Seeds, that Prudence takes its beginning; yet is this more acquired, more learned and improved, more the Effect of Study and Application of Thought, than any other Virtue whatsoever. And this Acquisition is in some measure the Fruit of wise Precepts, and good Advice; which we commonly call the Theory or Speculative Part of Prudence; but the best and Principal Instrument and Help toward it, is Experience, (though this require much more Time, and Pains) which is termed therefore the Practical Part. And This again is of Two sorts. The One truly and properly so, because it is Personal, learned by what happens to, or is done by our own selves; arising from Observations of our own making; and to This in strict speaking the Name of Experience is appropriated; The Other is not our own, but the result of other People's Judgement or Practice; and such is History, which informs us by Hearsay and Reading. Now our own Proper Experience is much the firmer, more assured, and what may with better reason be depended upon; for Use, as Pliny says, is the best Master, the Author and Teacher of all Arts and Sciences; the perfectest, though the most tedious and expensive way of Learning 
*— Seris venit Usus ab Annis. ; it is the result of many Years and Grey Hairs, exceeding hard to be mastered, very laborious, and very rare. The Knowledge of History, as it is less satisfactory and assured, so is it likewise more easy, more frequently to be met with, more obvious and in common to all sorts of People. A Man indeed is more resolute and confident, when he learns Wisdom at his own Cost; but it is much easier and cheaper to grow wise at the Expense of other People. And from these Two. Experience properly so called, and Historical, Prudence is derived; according to that common Saying, 
† 
Usus me genuit, peperit Memoria,  
Seu memoriae anima & vita Historia.   Experience is my Father, and Memory my Mother; or rather History, which is the Life and Soul of Memory.  
Now Prudence may, and in order to the giving us a clear Notion of the thing, 'tis necessary it should, be distinguished in several Respects; both with regard to the Persons, concerned in the use of it, and the Affairs, about which it is employed. As to the Persons, we are to observe, That there is first That which we may call private Prudence; and that is either solitary and individual, wherein a Man's single Person only is concerned; this is something so low and narrow, that it scarce deserves the noble Title of Prudence; or else it is Social and Domestic, confined to some small Company, and lesser Societies; and then there is Secondly, Public Prudence, which is commonly known by the Name of Policy. This is the more Sublime, more Excellent and Useful, and more difficult to be attained; and to This it is, that all those lofty Characters and large Commendations in the beginning of this Chapter do of right belong; which is again subdivided according to the different Subjects and Occasions that call for it, into Civil, and Military Prudence.  
With regard to the Affairs it is conversant about, These are of two kinds; Some Ordinary and Easie; Others Difficult and Uncommon. There are also several Contingencies, by the interposition of which some new difficulties spring up, which were not in the nature of the things; and consequently doubts and perplexities not foreseen at the first setting out; and accordingly that Prudence, whose business it is to manage all these, may be termed either Ordinary, when it proceeds in the plain easy way, and governs its self by known Rules, established Laws, and Customs in common Use; or else Extraordinary, when it is obliged to go out of the beaten Road, and have recourse to difficult Stratagems, and unusual Methods.  
There is still one Distinction more behind, which extends both to the Persons, and to the Affairs; or, as the Schools speak, the Subject and the Object of this Prudence. But it is such a one, as regards not so much the several Kind's, as the different Degrees of this Virtue. I mean that Prudence, which is truly and properly a Man's Own, and gives him the Denomination of Wife; when one acts upon his own Judgement, and trades with his own Stock; the Other a Borrowed and Precarious Prudence, when we follow the Advice of others. And thus it is, that all Philosophers agree in allowing two sorts of Wise Men. The First and Highest rank, are those, who walk by their own Light, that penetrate and see through all Difficulties, and always contrive Remedies and Expedients, by the force of their own Judgement, and happy Forecast. But where shall we find these Able Men? They are certainly Prodigies in Nature. The Other of Inferior Condition are such, as understand how to judge, and take, and make the best advantage of good Counsel, when it is given them. Now all Persons whatsoever, that make any manner of pretence to Wisdom, must be included in this Division; for They who neither know how to give good Advice, nor how to take it when others give it, are by no means fit to come under this Character, but the contrary of Stupidity and Folly.  
The General Rules, which concern Prudence at large, in its most comprehensive Signification, as it relates to Persons and Affairs of all Sorts and Qualities, have been already handled, and some short account given of them in the Book that went before. And those you remember were Eight. First, The true understanding of the Persons and Business we are engaged with. Secondly, Estimating things according to their real worth. Thirdly, The choosing in consequence of such Valuation. Fourthly, Ask Advice upon every Undertaking, Fifthly, A just Temper between the two Vicious Extremes of Confidence and Making sure of all on the one hand, and Fear and Despondency on the other. Sixthly, Taking things in their due season, and laying hold on Opportunities, when they offer. Seventhly, Managing one's self rightly between Industry and Fortune, ascribing to each the Efficacy that belongs to it, and discharging Our part accordingly. The Eighth and Last is, Discretion in the practice and ordering of all the rest; for this must go quite through, and no one part can be what it ought without it. These were sufficient for my purpose at that time, but now I am engaged in another Method; and the design of this Third Part cannot be answered, without descending to Particulars. Here therefore I shall treat of Prudence according to the Distinctions just now specified; and First of All, of that which is Public, or Policy, as it relates to Persons, and then as it concerns the Affairs, that come under its Care.  

Of the Policy fit for a Sovereign Prince in the Administration of Government.  

The Preface.  
THE Instructions I am bear about to give, are designed it be useful to Sovereign Princes, and Governors of States. Their Transactions and Methods are indeed in their own Nature Uncertain, Unlimited, Difficult to be known and practised, and the Rules necessary for their high Station, next to impossible to be cast into any certain Form, or prescribed and determined in particular Precepts. But however, we must try, if we can a little clear this matter, and make it in any degree more easy and practicable. What is proper to be said upon this Subject may be reduced to two General Heads, wherein the two Great Duties of a Sovereign consist. The First comprehends under it all those principal Pillars, by which the State is supported, and treats of Parts of Governments: so essential to the Public, that they are the very Nerves and Bones of this Body Politic; its Sense, its Motion, its Form is lost with, and preserved by them; and these the Prince is in a special manner concerned to take care, that Himself and the State be constantly well furnished with. The Chief of them, I think, are these Seven: 1. A true Understanding of his Government, the People, and their Constitution. 2. Personal Virtue. 3. Behaviour and Address. 4. Counsellors. 5. Public Treasures. 6. Men and Arms. And 7. Alliances. The Three first are in his own Person; the Next in himself and those near his Person; and the Three last are more at a distance from him. The Second General Head consists in Action; in carefully employing, and making the best Advantage of the foremention'd Means; that is, in one Word, but that a very comprehensive one, in Governing well, and keeping up his Honour and Authority; yet so, as at the same time to secure the Affection and good Understanding both of his own Subjects and strangers. But to speak more distinctly and particularly, this Part is Twofold, Civil and Military. Thus you have in a very summary and general way the whole Scheme of Government laid before you at once; Thus is the Work cut out, and the first rude Lines drawn, of what the following Chapters must attempt to finish and fill up. For the better Convenience then of the Reader and myself, I will according to what hath been here proposed, divide this Subject of Policy, or Prudence in Government into Two parts. The First shall be the Provisionary Part, or the Care of being furnished with these seven Necessary Advantages; The Second, and That which presupposes the former already to be done, shall be the Administration, or Management of the Prince. This Subject hath indeed had great Right done to it by Lipsius already; who wrote an excellent Treatise, in a method peculiar to himself, but the Substance of it you will find all transplanted hither. I have not at all bound myself to his Order, as appears by this general Division already laid down, and will more plainly be seen in the following parts of this Discourse; nor have I taken the whole of him; but have left part of what was his behind, and added to it what I thought fit besides.   

CHAP. II. The First Branch of Policy, or Prudence in Government, which is the Provisionary Part.  
THE First thing requisite upon this occasion, 
Knowledge.  and That which must lead the way to all the rest, is a due Knowledge of the State or Government: For in all manner of Prudence, the leading Rule is Knowledge; and he, who is defective in this Qualification, is thereby rendered utterly incapable of all besides, as hath already been intimated in the Second Book. For, whoever undertakes any sort of Action or Management, must begin with informing himself, what his Business is, and with whom it lies. And therefore this Prudence, which undertakes to order and dispose whole Nations and Kingdoms; and whose peculiar Excellence and Commendation lies in the dexterity and skill of Governing and Administering the Affairs of the Public to the best advantage, is manifestly a Relative Virtue; and the Terms of this Relation, whose Concern in this case is reciprocal, are the Sovereign and his Subjects: The first step then toward discharging this Duty, is a right understanding of the Parties; that is, of the People and their Subjection on the one hand; and the Supreme Authority of the Prince on the other; for both these I include in the Knowledge of the Government.  
First then, A Man in that elevated Post should apply himself to Study and understand the Humour and Complexion of the People. For this Knowledge will be a very great direction, and model the Person, to whose Governance they are committed. What the Disposition of the Common People is in general, hath been at large explained in the First Book, and their Picture drawn at full length. There we observed that their Reigning Qualities are, Fickleness and Inconstancy; A Spirit of Faction and Discontent; of Impertinence and Folly; Love of Vanity and Change; Insolence and insupportable Pride in Prosperity; Cowardice and Dejection of Mind in Adversity. But besides these Characters, which are common to Persons of that Condition every where, a Man must be still more particularly instructed in the Temper and Complexion of that Country, and those Subjects, where himself is concerned. For the Dispositions of Men differ extremely, and are almost as various as the Towns wherein they dwell, or the Persons that inhabit them. Some Nations are in a peculiar and distinguishing manner, Passionate or Choleric, Bold and Warlike, Cowardly or Luxurious, addicted to Extravagance, to Wine, to Women; Laborious or Slothful; Frugal or Expensive. And of those, who agree in these Qualities, there is a difference in the measure; in Some they are more, and in Others less predominant. So necessary is that Rule, 
* Noscenda Natura Vulgi, & quibus modis temperanter habeatur.  That The Common People must be Studied, first to know what they are, and then what is the best method of dealing with them. And in this Sense it is, that we are to understand the Old Philosophers; when they pronounce Subjection and Obedience a necessary preparation to the Art of Ruling; 
† Nemo bene imperat, nisi qui ante paruerit imperio.  No Man (says Seneca) ever Governs well, who hathnot first lived under Government, and known what it is to be Commanded himself. Not that we are to infer from hence any Necessity, or indeed so much as a Possibility, that all Princes ought to be raised to that Dignity from an Inferior Condition; for several of them are born Princes; and a Great many Governments pass on in a Line, and come by Succession, and Proximity in Blood: But the true Importance of that Maxim is, That whoever is desirous to be a good Governor, must inform himself of the Humours and Inclinations of his Subjects, and understand, which are the reigning Qualities inthem, as perfectly well, as if He had been one of the same Rank himself, and had felt and been acted by them in his own Person.  
But than it is no less necessary, that the Condition of the Government should be likewise thoroughly understood; and that not only What Sovereignty and Power is in general, according to the description formerly given of it in the First Part of this Treatise; but the Frame and Temper of that Government and that State in particular, where this Person himself presides, what the Form and Constitution of it is, how it was fixed and adjusted, and what Extent of Power is vested in him; Whether it be an Old or Later Establishment; whether it descend by Inheritance, or whether it be conferred by Election; whether it were obtained by Regular and Legal Methods, or whether acquired by Force of Arms; how far his Jurisdiction reaches; what Neighbours are about him; what Strength and what Conveniences he is provided with. For according to these, and a great many other Circumstances, too tedious to be specificed here, a different sort of Conduct will be found necessary. The Sceptre must be swayed, as such Considerations shall dictate; One and the same Method will not serve all alike; but the Rules and the Administration must be suited to the Temper of the Beast, and as this proves to be harder or softer mouthed, so the Rider must take care to keep a slacker or a stiffer Rein.  
After this Knowledge of the State and Government, 
The second Head. Virtue.  which as I said, is in the Nature of a Preface, or Indroduction to all the following Heads, the next both in Order and Dignity is Virtue. And no Man can wonder that so honourable a Place is assigned to This, among the necessary Qualifications of a Governor, who at all considers, how absolutely and indispensably needful it is to a Prince, and that, both upon his own Account, and for the Benefit of the Public. First of all, it is highly reasonable, as Cyrus well observes, That he, who is above all the rest in Honour and Authority, should be so in Goodness too; This is no more, than what such a Great and Elevated Station may justly seem to require of him. Then his own Reputation is nearly concerned in it; For Common Fame makes it one great part of its Business to pick up and disperse every thing that our Governors do or say: The Prince stands exposed to the public View; every Eye is upon him, and he is curiously watched. There is no such thing in Nature, as Privacy for Princes; They can no more be concealed, than the Sun in the Firmament. They are the constant Subject of Discourse in every Company; and so are sure to have a great deal of Good, or a great deal of Ill said of them. And it is of exceeding great Consequence to any Governor; both with regard to his Personal, and the Common Interest and safety, what Opinion the World have of him. Nor is it enough, that the Supreme Governor be Virtuous in his own Temper and Conversation, but he is likewise obliged to take good care, that his Subjects be like him in Goodness. And how deeply This concerns him, I appeal to the Universal Consent of all Good and Learned Men, who with one Voice declare it impossible for that Kingdom, or Nation, that City or less Society of Men to prosper, nay, so much as to subsist long, who have banished Virtue from among them. And those nauseous Flatterers prevaricated much too grossly, who pretend that it is for the Advantage and Security of Princes, that their Subjects should be abandoned to Wickedness and Vice: Because say they, This emasculates their Minds, and renders them more tame and servile intheir Dispositions; so Pliny in his Panegyric, says, 
* Patientiores servitutis, quos and decet nisi esse servos.  They are more patiented under Slavery, who are fit for nothing but to be Slaves. For, quite contrary, we find by unquestionable Experience, that the more Vicious Men are, the more do they flinch, and grow unruly under the York: The Good and the Gentle, the Meek and Sweet-tempered Men, these are much better qualified to live in Fear and Awe of Authority themselves; than to be an Awe or give occasion of Jealousy to their Governors. 
† Pessimus quisque asperrime Rectorem patitur: Contrà. Facile Imperium in Bonos, qui Metuentes magis quam metuendi.  Every Man is more ungovernable, in proportion, as he is a worse Man, says Sallust: Mutiny, and Discontent, and perpetual Uneasiness, are the sure Attendants of a profligate Mind. On the other hand, Good Men are very easily kept in order; they give their Superiors little trouble, but had rather submit with Reverence and Fear, than be a Terror or Disturbance to those above them. Now there cannot be a more powerful Motive, a more efficacious Mean of bringing over the People, and forming them into Virtue, than the Example of the Prince. For (as daily Experience shows,) every one affects to be like Him; and the Court is the Standard of Manners, as well as of Fashions. The Reason is, because Example is what Men are sooner moved, and more strongly wrought upon by, than Laws; for this is a Law in dumb Show, but hath more Credit and Authority, than the Voice of the Law speaking in Commands. 
⁂ Nec tam Imperio nobis opus quam Exemplo; & mitius jubetur Exemplo.  We do not want Precepts so much as Patterns, and Example is the softest and least invidious way of Commanding; says Pliny. Now, if all Example be a mighty Inducement, That of Great Persons must be so in a Degree proportionable to their Quality and Station: For all the Little Ones fix their Eyes and Hearts here, and take their Observations from those above them. They swallow all without chewing; admire and imitate at a venture; and conclude, that their Superiors would not be guilty of any Behaviour unbecoming their Character; and if They do a thing, it must needs be excellent and good. And on the other hand, Governors are so sensible of the Force of this Motive too, that they think their Subjects indispensably obliged to those Rules which they are content to be governed by themselves; and that their own doing what they would have done by others, is singly a sufficient Inducement, to bring it into Practice and common Vogue, without the Formality of a Command to enforce it. From all which it is abundantly manifest, that Virtue is exceeding necessary and advantageous to a Prince, both in point of Interest, and in point of Honour and Reputation.  
All Virtue is so in truth, without Exception, though not All equally neither; for there are four Species of it, 
Four Principal Virtues.  which seem to have greater and more commanding Influence, than the rest; and those are Piety, Justice, Valour and Clemency. These are more properly Princely Qualities, and shine brightest of all the Jewels that adorn a Crown; of the Excellencies, I mean, that even a Prince's Mind can be possibly endued with. This gave occasion to that most Illustrious of all Princes, Augustus Caesar, to say, That Piety and Justice exalt Kings, and translate them into Gods: And Seneca observes, that Clemency is a Virtue more suitable to the Character of a Prince, than to persons of any other Quality whatsoever.  
Now the Piety of a Prince consists and must exert itself in the Care and Application, which he ought to use for the Preservation and Advancement of Religion, of which every Sovereign aught to consider himself, as the Guardian and Protector. And thus indeed he should do for his own sake; for this Zeal and pious Care will contribute very much to his own Honour and Safety. For they that have any regard for God, will not dare to attempt, no not so much as to contrive or imagine, any Mischief against that Prince who is God's Image upon Earth; and who plainly approves himself to be such, by his zealous and tender Concern for the Glory and the Institution of his great Original. And in effect, this tends no the Security of the People too, and the Quiet of the Government in general. For, as Lactantius frequently urges, Religion is the common Band, that links Communities together; Society could not be supported without it. Take off this Restraint, and the World would immediately be overrun with all manner of Wickedness, Barbarity and Brutality. So great an Interest hath every Government in Religion; so strong, so necessary a Curb is the Sense, and Fear, and Reverence of it to unruly Mankind. Thus on the other hand, even Cicero, who does not appear to have been any mighty Devote, makes it his Observation, That the Romans owed the Rise, and Growth, and flourishing Condition of their Commonwealth, to their Exemplary Respect for Religion, more than to any other Cause whatsoever. Upon this account, every Sovereign is very highly concerned, and strictly obliged to see, that Religion be preserved entire, and that no Breaches be made upon it: That it be encouraged and supported, according to the established Laws, in all its Rights, Ceremonies, Usages, and Local Constitutions: Great Diligence should be used to prevent Quarrels, Divisions, and Innovations; and severe Punishments inflicted upon all who go about to alter, or disturb, or infringe it. For, without all Controversy, every Injury done to Religion, and all rash and bold Alterations in it, draw after them a very considerable damage to the Civil State; weaken the Government, 
Dion.  and have a general ill Influence upon Prince and People both; as Moecenae very excellently argues, in his Oration to Augustus.  
Next after Piety, Justice is of greatest Consequence and Necessity; 
Justice and Fidelity.  without which Governments are but so many Sets of Banditi, Robbers, and Invaders of the Rights of their Brethren. This therefore a Prince ought by all means to preserve and maintain in due Honour and Regard; both in his own Person and Conversation, and in the Observance of those under his Jurisdiction.  
1. It is necessary to be strictly observed by the Sovereign Himself: For nothing but Detestation and the utmost Abhorrence is due to those Barbarous and Tyrannical Maxims, which pretend to set a Prince above all Laws; and to compliment him with a Power of Dispensing at Pleasure with Reason, and Equity, and all manner of Obligation and Conscience; which tell Kings that they are not bound by any Engagements; and that their Will and Pleasure is the only Measure of their Duty; That Laws were made for common Men, and not for such as They; That every thing is Good and Just, which they find most practicable and convenient: In short, that their Equity is their Strength; and whatever they can do, that they may do. 
* Principi Leges nemo scripsit. Licet, si libet. In summâ fortunà id requius quod validius; nihil injustum quod fructuosum. Sanctitas, ●ietas, Fides privata bona sunt; quà juv●t Reges eant.  No Man ever presumes to prescribe to Princes, or include them within the Verge of any Laws, but their own Inclinations. In the highest Post, Justice is always on the stronger side: That which is most profitable, can never be unlawful, Holiness and Piety, Faith and Truth, and common Honesty are the Virtues of private Men: Princes may take their own Course, and are above these vulgar Dispensations. So say Pliny and Tacitus. But against this false Doctrine, too apt to be liked by Persons in Power, I entreat my wise Prince, to oppose the really Excellent and Pious Sentences and Directions of Grave and Good Philosophers. They tell you, That the greater Power any Man is invested with, the more regular and modest he should be in the Exercise of it; That this is one of those Things which must always be used with a Reserve; and the more one could do, the less it will become him to do. That the more absolute and unbounded any Man's Authority is, the greater Check, and more effectual Restraint he hath upon him. That every Man's Ability should be measured by his Duty; and what he may not, that he cannot do. 
† Minimum decet libere, cui nimium licet. Non ●as potentes posse, sieri quod nefas.  He that can do what he will, must take care to will but a very little. And Great Men should never think they have a Liberty of doing what ought not to be done.  
The Prince then ought to lead the way, and be first and most eminent for Justice and Equity; and particularly he must be sure to be very punctual to his Word; and to keep his Faith and his Promise most inviolably; because Fidelity and Truth is the Foundation of all manner of Justice whatsoever; whether to all his Subjects in general, or to each Person in particular. How mean soever the Party, or how slight soever the Occasion be, still this Word must be Sacred. When he hath thus provided for his own Behaviour, his next Care is, to see that others are Just too. For This indeed is the Fundamental Article of all Government, the very End of its Institution, and the particular Trust put into the Hands of every Sovereign. He hath his Power committed to him for this very Purpose, To take care that Justice be equally distributed, and Wrongs and Oppressions repressed, by interposing his Arbitration and the Power of the Sword. Therefore he ought in Person, or in Authority and Deputation, to hear and decide Causes; to let every one have a fair Trial, to award to each Party what by the Letter of the Law, or by the equitable Construction of it, belongs to him; and all this without Delays, or Quirks, or Trickings; without Perplexing the Case, or Countenancing Foul and Litigious Practice: And in order hereunto it were very well if that Way of Pleading now in use, could be eithr reform, as it ought, or quite turned out of doors; which is at present become a most vile, most destructive Trade, a perfect Market, 
† Concessum Latrocinium. Columel.  A Robbery and Picking of Pockets Countenanced by the Law, and upheld under the Pretence of a Learned and Honourable Profession. It will also be advisable, to avoid, as much as may be, Multiplicity of Laws and Decrees, which only breed Confusion, and are 
*⁎* Corruptissimae Reipub. plurimae leges.  A Symptom of a sick and corrupt State, as sure as taking much Physic and wearing many Plasters are Signs of gross Humours and ill Health. For unless some Care of this kind be taken, that which is established by Good and Wise Las, will be defeated and quite overturned again, by too many Laws.  
One thing, by the way, ought not to be omitted upon this Occasion; which is, that the Justice, and Virtue, and Probity of a Prince is not in all Points tied up to the same Methods, and manner of Proceeding with that of Persons in a private Capacity. It hath a larger Range, and freer Scope allowed; and all this Latitude is Indulgence little enough; no more than is absolutely necessary for the Weighty and Hazardous Office our Governors are engaged in, and the Infinite Unconceivable Difficulties that arise in their Administration. This makes it reasonable for Them to go in a Way by Themselves; the common and direct Tract is too Narrow; they are obliged to shift, and dodge, and wheel about, and whatever Censures People, who understand not the Nature of the Case, may pass, as if every thing that is unusual and indirect, were presently Wicked and Unjust; yet those, who are capable of considering, and competent Judges of the Matter, must admit it to be lawful and allowable, as well as prudent and needful for them to do. For Prudence must be mixed with Justice; some Feints and Stratagems, and little Slights made use of; and (as they commonly express it) when the Lion's Skin is not big enough of itself, it must be eked out, by tacking a Fox-Skin to it.  
Nor would I be so mistaken here neither, 
* Salus Populi Supreme Lex esto.  as to be thought a Justifier of these crafty Deal at all times, and in all Cases indifferently. By no means, This is not a standing Rule of Action; But must be reserved for special Occasions; and particularly, there must be three Conditions to warrant it. The first is absolute Necessity, or at least, some evident and very considerable Advantage to the Public (that is, to the Prince and the State, who are to be looked upon as One and the Same, and their Interests altogether inseparable) and this must by all means be consulted, and made the chief Aim. This is a natural, an indispensable Obligation: For the Public Good is a Consideration Paramount to all others; and the Man that is procuring it, cannot but be doing his Duty.  

* Salus Populi Supreme Lex esto.  The Safety of the People must be the Supreme Law.  
The Second Qualification which these Methods must have to recommend them, nay indeed to acquit them of Blame, is, That they be used Defensively, only and not Offensively; with a Design to preserve a Prince or a State, but not to aggrandise Them, and oppress Others. For this Reason they should seldom or never be begun with, but only returned back again; and then are they in proper time and Place, when employed to save the Public from Snares and Subtle Designs, and not to contrive, but to discover and defeat mischievous and sicked Practices. For one Trick may be answered with another; and it is reasonable to play the Fox with a Fox. The World is exceeding full of Malice and Cunning: And Aristotle's Observation is most true, That the Subversion of States and Kingdoms is usually owing to Treachery and Deceit. What then should hinder? what forbid? Nay, in such Exigencies, what can excuse the Conservators of the Public Safety, from preventing and disappointing such Calamities and Villainous Intentions by countermining? Why may not the State save itself by the same Methods that were practised to ruin it, and retort the Artifice of Factions and Wicked Malcontents back upon their own Heads? For a Man to be too Squeamish in these Cases; to play constantly above-board and upon the square; and deal with these Men according to the Rules of that Rigorous Equity and Plain-dealing, which Reason and Conscience require from us in private Affairs, is inconsistent with the Nature and the Measures, nay, with the very End of all Government; and the Event would often be the betraying and losing all, and Sacrificing the Public to an Unreasonable Scruple.  
The Third Qualification is, That these Methods be used moderately and discreetly; As they are not fit for all Times, nor all Occasions; so neither are all Persons sit to be trusted with them. For they are capable of great Abuses: And if abused, will prove of ill Example and ill Consequence by ministering Occasion to ill Men, to practise and justify their Frauds and indirect Deal, and so giving Countenance to Wickedness and Injustice, even in private Commerce and Transactions: For a Man is never at Liberty to forsake Virtue and Honesty, to follow Vice and Injustice; These things are so far from indifferent, that there is no Possibility of reconciling those distant Extremes, no Satisfaction capable of being made for so ill a Choice. And therefore away with all Injustice and Infidelity, all Treacherous and Illegal Proceed; and cursed be the Principles and the Politics of those Men, who (as I instanced before) would possess Sovereign Commanders with a Belief that all things are lawful, if they be but expedient for them. There is a vast difference between such an Arbitrary Notion of Right and Wrong, and the Rules and Limitations I have here laid down. Reasons of State may sometimes make it necessary to temper Honesty with Profit, and try if these two can be so mingled together as to make a good Composition. But, tho' we may try to compound and soften the Matter, yet we must never act in opposition to Justice. We may, nay, we must sometimes use Artifice and Subtlety; we may sometimes wheel off a little, and fetch a Compass about it; but we must never lose Sight of it, much less turn our Backs upon it, and cast all Regard for so Sacred a Thing behind us. For there is a Cunning very consistent with Virtue and strict Honour, such as St. Basil the Great calls a Great and Commendable Cunning, (Magna & laud tbilis Astutia) such as tends to Good; and may be used, as Mothers and Physicians deal by their Children and their Patients, when they tell them fine Stories to amuse and entertain them, and by degrees cheat them into Health. In short, many things may be transacted secretly and in the dark, which are not sit for public View, and will not bear an opener Process; Prudence and Stratagem may be added to Courage and Strength. Art and Wit may supply the Defects of Nature and Force, in cases which these are not sufficient to manage: A Governor may, nay, he ought to be, as Pindar calls it, a Lion in the Field, and a Fox at the Council-Table; or, as that Divine Saviour, who was Truth itself, hath expressed himself upon another occasion; He may be a subtle Serpent, but still a harmless Dove.  
To say somewhat of this Matter more particularly, and give the Reader a distinct Notion, 
Distrusting others.  what sort of Subtlety I mean. I say that Distrust, and the keeping himself much upon the Reserve, is highly requisite in a Prince; and this is to be done, without abandoning Virtue and Equity. Distrust, which is the former of these two Qualifications, is absolutely necessary; as indeed its contrary, Credulity, and Easiness, and rash Confidence, is a very great Fault, and of most dangerous Consequence to a Prince: For his Station obliges him to Vigilance; he is accountable for the whole Community, and therefore no Faults of his own can be light and inconsiderable; and where every Action hath so mighty effect, such universal Influence, great Care should be taken, and every thing done advisedly. If he be of a confiding Temper, he discovers his Intentions, and lays himself open to Shame and Reproach, and a world of Dangers; 
* Opportunus Injuriae. Senec. Aditum nocendi Perfido praestat Fides.  He lays himself in the way of being ill used; nay, he even invites and tempts treacherous and deceitful People to practise upon him; and gives them a power to do a World of Mischief, with very little danger, and great Opportunities of Advantage to themselves. Knaves have always the Inclination to be false; and trusting them gives them Ability of gratifying that Inclination to our Prejudice. A Prince should always retreat behind this Shield of Diffidence; as some of the Philosophers have styled it, who represent it as a very considerable Branch of practical Wisdom, the very Nerves and Sinews, that impart Strength and Motion: That Diffidence, I mean, which consists in keeping one's Eyes open, ones Mind in suspense, suspecting and providing against every thing. And for all this, he will not need any more convincing Reason, any stronger Inducement, than barely the reflections upon the Temper and Condition of the World would give him. To observe, how all Mankind are made up of Falsehood and Deceit, of Tricks and Lies; how Unfaithful and Dangerous, how full of Disguise and Design all Conversation is at present become, but especially, how much more it abounds near his own Person, and how manifestly Hypocrisy and Dissimulation are the reigning Qualities of Prince's Courts, and Great Men's Families, above any other places whatsoever. A King therefore must be sure to trust but Few, but very Few; and those should always be such, as long Acquaintance, and many Trials have given him a perfect Understanding, and good Assurance of. And even these most intimate Confidents must be consulted with so discreetly, that he never commit himself entirely, and without any reserve to them; he must not give them all the Rope, but constantly keep one End in his own Hand; and how long a Range soever he think sit to allow them, yet it will be very necessary to have an Eye always upon their Motions. But yet at the same time, this very Distrust must be concealed, and dissembled too; and in the very midst of his Reserves, a Prince must put on the Air of Openness and Friendship, and appear to repose a mighty Confidence in those about him. For nothing is more provoking and offensive, than plainly to see one s self suspected; and this Distance and Jealousy is sometimes as strong a Temptation to Treachery and soul Play, as too supine and free a Confidence. 
* Multi fallere docuerunt timentes falli. Sen.  Many Persons, says Seneca, have put it into People's Heads to deceive them, who would never have harboured any such Thought, if their own Fears of being deceived, had not given the first Hint. And thus it is sometimes in the other Extreme too; A very great Frankness and declared Reliance, oftentimes takes off the Inclination to betray a Secret, and wrong the good Opinion and Confidence you have of them: And many People have been brought over to strict Loyalty and Fidelity, and hearty Affection, by seeing themselves freely dealt with. For 
* Vult quisque sibi credi, & habita sides ipsam plerunque obligat fidem.  Every body naturally loves to be trusted; and the reposing a more than ordinary Confidence, sometimes six a Man in Your Interests, and engages him to be Secret and Faithful. So much Ingenuity still remains in the most degenerate Minds, that they see the Odiousness of Treachery and Falsehood; and tho' Gain put toomany upon doing the thing, yet not one of all those can bear the Imputation, or be reconciled to the Character of Falsifying a Trust.  
From that Distrust springs Dissimulation; which is a Branch of the same Stock: 
Dissimulation.  For were there no such thing as Diffidence and Reserve, but Frankness and Fidelity, and Good Assurance , there would be no place left for Dissembling; whose Business it is to open the Face, but cover the Heart; and while one's outward Air seems to unlock all, to keep the Thoughts and Intentions close and unseen. Now the same Dissimulation, which in Persons of private Condition would be vicious and abominable, is in Princes highly commendable; there is no discharging their weighty Affairs without it; and the very thing which ruins common Conversation, is the best Security, and necessary support of Government. Feints and Pretences are absolutely requisite, not in Military Conduct only, and time of War, to amuse Enemies and Strangers, but even in Peace and Civil Administration towards one's own Subjects; tho' upon such Occasions, I confess, they ought to be practised more sparingly and nicely. The plain, and free, and open, such as we commonly say carry their Heart in their Faces, are by no means cut out for the Business of Governing; they often ruin and betray both themselves and their People. And yet, as was observed in the former Paragraph, so here again, this Dissimulation requires some Dexterity and Skill. It is not every one whose Temper will let him dissemble, that is Master of this Art; for unless the Part be played well, it is absolutely spoiled; and therefore care must be taken of Overdoing, and Unseasonableness, and awkward improper Carriage: For This is easily seen through, and then you lose your End. For to what purpose do you hid and disguise yourself, if the Mask be so plain, that every Body can distinguish, and see you put it on? And how vain are all Pretences and little Artifices, when the Secret is once out, and the Design hath taken Air? Their very Nature then is changed, and they cease from thenceforward to be Artifices any more. It is therefore fit for a Prince to pretend to Simplicity and Sincerity, the better to cover his Address of this kind; and convenient for him to court, and caress, and commend Men of open Tempers and free Carriage, and all that profess themselves Enemies to Dissimulation; nay, it is expedient for him, in matters of less Consequence, to act so, and gain the Reputation of such a one himself, that so he may be more at liberty to use Art and Reserve in Affairs of greater Moment, and be safe from Jealousy when he does so; under the shelter of a contrary Character.  
What hath hit herto been exemplifyed, is chief on the Omitting side; 
Secret Service.  and the Exercise of it consists not so much in Action, as in forbearing, and seeming not to act. But some Occasions require a great deal more; and therefore a Prince must be qualified for bolder Strokes, and advance to actual Deceit; of which there are Two sorts necessary to be understood, and sometimes to be practised.  
The First is That of settling a private Correspondence, and getting Intelligence underhand: The engaging the Affections and Services of Officers, Attendants, Counsellors, and Confidents to Foreign Princes; or, if occasion be, contriving to have secret Information, not only how one's Enemies, or Brother-Kings, but even one's own Subjects behave themselves; and what Designs are brewing. This is a sort of Subtlety much in request, and every where made use of, between one Prince and another; and Tully recommends it as a very considerable Point of Prudence. Sometimes this is effected by the power of Persuasion only; but, generally speaking, there aremore sensible and moving Arguments made use of, than bare Words can pretend to; Presents, I mean, and Pensions; whose Force is so irresistible, that not only Secretaries of State, Precedents of Councils, particular Friends, and intimate Favourites, have by this means been prevailed upon to communicate, and so prevent and defeat the Designs of the Master, whose Bread they eat, and to whose Countenance and Bounty they own all their Greatness; not only Commanders have assisted their Enemies in time of Action; but, which is still more prodigious, and proves the Almighty Power of Bribery, to the Eternal Reproach of treacherous corrupt Nature, even Wives themselves have been hired to discover the Secrets, and betray the safety of their own Husbands. Now this corrupting the Confidents of others, is what a great many make ●o scruple of approving: and indeed, if it be practised either against a declared Enemy, or a Subject of ou●'s own, who hath ministered just Grounds of Suspicion; or if it be against any Stranger in general, with whom we are under no particular Engagements of Alliance or Friendship, or mutual Trusts, there seems to be no great difficulty in allowing it to Princes: But certainly it can never be justified against Confederates and Friends; for where any such Obligations intervene, these very Attempts to debauch those upon whose Secrecy and Advice they rely, is a piece of Treachery never to be indulged them.  
The other sort of necessary Deceit, is the Address of gaiing Advantages, and compassing one's Design by cunning and unseen Methods; by equivocating and ambiguous Terms; by refined Subtleties, and deep Intriqus; by good Words, fair Promises, Compliments and Congratulations, the Formalities of Embassies and Letters; by these outwardly fair Pretences, and amusing Stratagems, bringing Matters about, and securing Advantages, which the want of Time, or Opportunity, or the Difficulty and Perplexity of a Prince's Affairs had cut him out from effecting any other way: And so he must work like a Mole, underground, and do that unseen and behind the Curtain, which will not bear the open Stage. There have been several great and wise Men of Opinion, 
Plato. Pliny. Valer. Maxim.  that these Proceed are lawful as well as expedient. 
* Crebro mendacio & fraud uti Imperantes debent ad Commodum Subditorum. Decipere pro moribus temporum Prudentiae est.  Governors' ought to make no scruple of having frequent recourse to Lies and Tricks, when the Advantage of their Subjects is concerned, (says one). And another, That it is a Part of Prudence to deceive, as occasion and the present prosture of Affairs shall require. I must confess for my own part, These seem to me very bold Assertions; and I think the pronouncing such Practices generally and in themselves lawful, savours of too much Positiveness, or too great Latitude. The furthest I dare stretch in favour of them, and that possibly one might venture to say, is, That where the Case is almost desperate, and the Necessity exceeding urgent, when it is a Season of Perplexity, and Confusion, and general Disorder; when the End proposed to be attained by it, is notonly the promoting the Interest or Greatness of a Commonwealth, but the averting and shifting off some very great and threatening Mischiefs; and when the Persons, against whom we take these Advantages, are profligate, and ofno Principles themselves; I say, all these Circumstances concurring, a Man perhaps might venture to say that such Tricks of State are either no Faults; or if they, be, very moderate and pardonable Faults.  

* The Reader is desired to observe how cautious and tender the Author is, at the End of these Cases, which is the more remarkable, because he lived under an Absolute and Arbitrary Government, where many things were practised and allowed, which can by no means hold, or be drawn into Precedents in limited Constitutions. And generally speaking, no doubt that Prince governs best, who brings his Measures nearest to those of Common and Private Justice. The Readers will find an excellent Remark to this purpose, made by one who was himself an Emperor, in M. Antonin. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, lib. ix. S. 24.  But there are other Instances still behind of much greater difficulty; such as minister very just ground of Doubt, whether they are allowable upon Reasons of State, or not, because they have a strong Tincture of Injustice, 
Injustice for the Public Good.  and border hard upon Oppression. I say they have a strong Tincture, because they are not totally unjust; for there is a Mixture of Justice 〈◊〉 the same time, to temper and allay the Injustice that is in them. For wre there not so, there could be no scruple. That which is altogether unjust, and manifestly so, all Men agree 〈◊〉 condemning; even the vilest Wretches alive have not yet put off all Distinctions of Right and Wrong, all Sense of Gild and Shame: But what they allow themselves in the practice of, even that they disallow in Profession and Pretence. But the Case is otherwise in mixed Actions; there are Arguments and Appearances of Reason at least, Examples and Authorities on both sides; and a Man, that enters into the Disquisition, does not find it easy what Resolutions to take. At least he finds somewhat to give Countenance to what his Convenience persuades; and that which hath divided Men's Judgements, and made it a moot Point, he thinks will be sufficient for his Vindication. Abundance of Cases of this nature might be specified; but at present I shall content myself with a few, that now occur to me, and leave it to the Reader, to put others like, or parallel to these, as he sees fit.  
What shall we say first to the ridding one's Hands of a troublesome pestilent Fellow, that propagates Faction and  
Disorder, and is eternally breaking the public Peace, by getting him taken off secretly, without any legal Process? This Man, take notice, is supposed to deserve Death, but the Circumstances of the Offender, and of the Prince, are such, that without manifest Danger to the State, he cannot be brought to Justice, nor made an Example in the common way. Here is, they tell you, no material Injustice in all This; the Offender hath but his Due; and, as Matters stand, the Public is better served by his having it in this way, than it could be, by punishing him after the manner of other Offenders of the like Nature. So that the most you can make of this, is a Breach of the Forms and Methods prescribed by Law; and surely, they tell you, the Sovereign Prince is above Forms.  
The next is Clipping the Wings, and giving a Check to the Wealth and Power of some Great Man, who is growing Popular, and strengthening his Interest; and both from his Ability and Inclination to do Mischief, becomes formidable to his Prince. The Question here is, whether a Prince may not lower and cut such a potent Subject short in time, without staying so long for a fair Provocation, that he stall be grown too big to be dealt with; and if any Attempts be made, either against the public Peace in general, or the Life of the Prince in particular, it will not then be possible to prevent or to punish them, though we would never so fain.  
Another is, In an extreme Exigence, and when no other Supplies are to be had, seizing upon private Stocks, and so compelling so of the wealthiest Subjects to furnish the Public Necessities, when the Nation is not able by all its Public Funds to support itself.  
A Fourth is Infringing and Vacating some of the Rights and Privileges which some of the Subjects enjoy, when the Authority of the Prince is prejudiced and diminished, and his Grandeur eclipsed by the Continuance of them.  
The Last is, a Point of Prevention, when a Fort, or a Town, or a Province very commodious to the Government is seized, and got into a Prince's Hands by interposing first; and to keep it out of the Possession of some other powerful and very formidable Neighbour; who by making himself Master of this Pass, would have been in a Condition of doing great Injury, and giving perpetual Disturbance to this Prince and his Country, who are now the first Occupiers.  
All these things, I know, sound harsh, and are hardly, if at all, to be reconciled with the common Notions of Justice. Matters of State are neither fit nor safe for me to give a Judgement in; thus much only, I think, may not misbecome this place to say, That, as on the one hand the indulging and having frequent recourse to such Actions is very dangerous, gives just matter of Jealousy to the Subject, and will be apt to degenerate into Tyranny and Exorbitant use of Power; so on the other, it is plain, Subjects ought to be modest and very spring in censuring the Actions of their Prince, and the Steps he makes for the public Safety, however bold they may seem, and beyond the Lengths which are commonly gone. And this suspending at least of our Judgements in matters of another and very distant Sphere, will appear the more reasonable, when I have showed you that very eminent Men, Persons of acknowledged Virtue as well as vast Learning and Wisdom, have approved all those Practices already mentioned, and think them not amiss, provided the Success be good, and answer their Intentions. And to this purpose I will quote you here some of those Sentences and Remarks which they have left us upon such Occasions.  
In order to preserve Justice in greater and more important Matters, there is sometimes a necessity (says Plutarch) of deviating from it in those of less Moment. And in order to doing Right to the generality, and in the gross it is allowable to put some Hardships, and be guilty of some Wrong to particular Persons. 
* Omne magnum Exemplum habet aliquid ex iniquo, quod adversus singulos utilitate publicâ rependitur.  Commonly speaking, (says Tacitus) the bravest Exploits, and most celebrated Examples, carry somewhat of Injustice in them: But in this Case, what Private Men suffer is abundantly compensated by the Benefit which the Public receives from it. 
† 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. in fine Flamen.  A Prudent Prince, says Plutarch again, must not only know how to govern according to Law; But if a necessary occasion require it, he must learn to govern even the Laws themselves; When they fall short of their End, and cannot do what they would, he must stretch and correct, and give a new Power to the Laws where they happen to be defective; that is, if they are not willing he should do what is fitting in that Juncture, he must make them willing. 
⁂ Non speciosa dictu, sed usu necessaria in rebus adversis sequenda esse. Q. Curt. Lib. 5.  When the State is in Confusion, and things brought to a Plunge, the Prince (says Curtius) must not think himself obliged to follow that which will look or sound best to the World, but that which the present Extremity calls for. And again, 
* Necessitas magnum imbecillitatis humanae patrocinium, omnem Legem frangit; non est nocens, quicunque non sponte est nocens. Senec.  Necessity, (says Seneca) That great Refuge and Excuse for Humane Frailty, breaks through all Laws; and he is not to be accounted in fault, whose Crime is not the Effect of Choice, but Force. Aristotle's Rule is, If a Prince cannot be good in every part of his Government, 'tis enough that he be so in the greater, or at least an equal part; but let him be sure not to be bad in every part. And Democritus, That it is impossible for the best Princes in the World not to be guilty of some Injustice.  
Thus much however, I presume to add, that let these Actions of theirs find never so favourable Interpretations, never so just Allowances; yet for their own Justification, and the softening as much as may be, the Odium of such irregular Proceed: There is not only a Necessity that they should be reserved for the last Extremities, but that when Princes are perfectly driven to make use of them, they should go about it with a real unwillingness and great Regret. They should look upon This necessity to which they are reduced, as a very particular Misfortune, and Mark of an angry Providence; and all their Behaviour and Resentments upon such Occasions, must be like those of tender Parents, when, sore against their Will, a beloved Child is to have a Limb seared, or cut off; Methods which nothing but the hope of saving his Life by this only Remedy, could ever prevail with them to submit to; or as a Man in extremity of Pain goes about the drawing a Tooth, when nothing else will ease or assuage the Anguish. And now I have related the Opinions of very eminent Philosophers and Politicians, and observed what Abatements they are content to make for Cases of necessity; I must once more solemnly avow, that as for any Passages, or Politic Maxims, which pretend to greater Liberties, such as set a Prince above all Consideration of Law or Justice, that make Profit and Greatness the only End worthy his prosecuting; and either place Advantage upon the Level with Honesty, or set it higher, every Good Man must abominate them; and every good Governor will be so far from taking his measures according to this Standard, that he will reject them with Detestation and Disdain.  
I have insisted so much the longer upon this Branch of a Prince's Virtue; because of the many Difficulties and Doubts, which arise upon this Point of Justice; the regular Exercise and Administration whereof must needs be very much interrupted and perplexed by the infinite Emergencies, the sudden and extraordinary Changes, and the Necessities that the public happens to be involved in. And these oftentimes are so very intricate and pressing, that they may very well be allowed to puzzle the Wisest, and to stagger the bravest, and most resolute Commanders.  
After Justice follows Valour; by which I mean particularly that Virtue which is Military; The Courage, the Conduct, the Caacity, 
Valour.  which go to the making a Complete General. For this is a Qualification absolutely necessary for a Prince, for the Defence and Security of his own Person, and the Public both. The Welfare of his Subjects, the Peace and Quiet of the Kingdom, the Rights and Liberties of a Nation, All lie at His Charge; He is their Conservator, and they depend upon his Ability, to assert, and protect, and maintain them. All which Valour only can enable him to do; and by the very little said already upon it, That appears to be so essential a part of the Royal Character, that a Man who hath it not, scarce deserves the Name of a Prince.  
Let us now proceed to the Fourth Princely Virtue, which is Clemency. 
Clemency.  By which I mean such a Habit and Disposition of Mind, as inclines the Prince to Mildness and Gentleness; to Gracious Allowances, and large Abatements from the Rigour of the Law, and Extremity of Justice; and all this tempered with Judgement and Discretion. This moderates, manages, and sweetens all; it spurs the Guilty, relieves the Poor an dejected, and rescues those that are ready to perish. Clemency in the Ruler answers to Humanity in common Men; it is contrary to Cruelty and excess of Rigour, but not to Justice; for with this it is very reconcilable, and all its Care is to soften, and to moderate its Determinations. Nothing can be more necessary, more seasonable, considering the many Infirmities of Humane Nature; how great a part of Mankind offend wilfully, and do what they should not; and how often do even the best intending Men, fall short of what they should? Extreme Rigour, and 
* Severitas amittit assiduitate Authoritatem.  severe Usage, without any intermission, any Abatement, spoils all; it hardens men's Tempers, and brings Authority into Contempt. Punishments lose their Force, and their End, when made common, and executed every Day; they provoke men's Indignation and Malice, (for indeed Men are often Wicked out of mere Rage and Spite,) and many Rebellions have been raised by the Thirst of Revenge. There is something in Fear, which is even destructive of Duty, if it be not tempered, and kept within Bounds by Lenity and good Nature; and if turned into Horror by sharp Usage, and too strong Impressions, it grows Furious and Desperate, Malicious and Bloody. Thus the Author hath observed very truly, 
⁂ Temperatus Timor est qui cohibet; Assiduus & acer in vindictam excitat.  That Fear which secures Peace and good Order, must be moderate; if once it become continual and extreme, it spurs Men en to Mutiny and Revenge. Clemency is likewise of great Advantage, both to the Prince and the Public, as it gains the  of the Subjects, and binds them in the straitest and the surest Ties to the Government; even those of Affection and Kindness, for these are always the strongest and most lasting Security; and 
† Firmissimum Imperium, quo obedientes gaudent. Tit. Liv.  A Prince never sits so fast, as when his Subjects are easy, and take a pleasure in their Obedience, as I shall have Occasion to show hereafter. For in such a Case the People will look upon their Governor, as a sort of Deity Incarnate; They will honour and adore him as such; they will respect and love him as their Guardian, their Common Father, their Friend; and instead of any uneasy Fear of Him, they will be in perpetual Fear for Him; tender of his Life and his Person; and in mighty Pain and Solicitude, lest any Ill should happen to either; consequently they will be Zealous in his Defence, firm to all his Interests, averse and implacable to his Enemies. This then is the Lesson, in which all Princes should be perfect; To get themselves well informed of all that is done; Not to prosecute every Crime they know; Nay, many times to act, and manage themselves, as if they knew it not; To be better satisfied with the Character of having found their Subjects made Good to their Hands, than that of having reformed and made them so by any Rigours of their own; Readily to extend their Grace to small Faults, and where such easiness may be inconvenient, to render heinous Offenders very exemplary, and make them smart severely for their Insolence and bold Contempt of the Laws. To consider, that frequent Executions are an Aspersion to their Government; and bring as great a Scandal upon their Reign, as the Death of many Patients doth to the Practice of a Physician; and therefore not to be fond of taking Men off upon every Provocation, but to content themselves oftentimes with a Malefactor's Repentance; and esteem the Sense of his Gild, his Shame, and Remorse, and Self-condemnation a Punishment sufficient. 

† 
— Ignoscere pulchrum,  
Jam misero, poenaeque genus vidisse precantem.   Relenting Misery inclines the Brave;  
Conquerors are most triumphant, when they save;  
Justice and Mercy may suspend their Strife,  
He suffers for his Crime, who yields to beg his Life.  Nor is there any just Ground of that Apprehension, which some People very inconsiderately pretend, upon these Occasions; that such Mercy will be taken for Tameness or Impotence; that it makes a Prince despicable in the Eyes of his People; gives his Enemy's Advantage, provokes turbulent Spirits to insult, and loosens the Nerves of Government: For the Effect is really quite contrary. Such Mildness is a mighty strengthening to a Prince; adds Vigour and Efficacy to his Commands, and wonderfully raises his Reputation. A Prince, that is well beloved, shall be able to do more with the Hearts of his Subjects, than all the Awe and Terror in the World; This may put Men into trembling and astonishment, but it gives them no true Principle of Obedience; and as Sallust argued in his Oration to Caesar, such Governments are never Stable and of long Continuance because they are built upon an ill bottom. Whoever he be, that is feared by a great many, hath a great many whom he hath reason to be afraid of too. The Fear, which he sheds down upon all about him, dashes back again upon his own Head. Such a sort of Life is full of Anxieties and Misgivings; and a Man is surrounded with Dangers, that threaten him continually from every Quarter. It is true indeed, this Clemency ought not to be extended without any Distinction; Judgement, as was said in the beginning of the Paragraph, must direct and determine it. For, as it is a Virtue, and that which attracts the profoundest Veneration, when judiciously managed; so is it a Vice of most pernicious Consequence, when degenerating into soft and easy Tameness.  
After these Four Principal Virtues, which are the brightest Jewels in a Prince's Diadem, 
Liberality.  there follow some others of a Second Form; and these, though inferior to the former in Lustre, have yet their just Value, and are necessary and useful, though not so absolutely, and in so high a degree. Liberality for instance, which is so much more suitable to a Prince's Character, as it is a greater Reflection upon him to be vanquished by Bounty and Magnificence, than to be worsted in the Field. But here too, there is great need of Discretion; for, where That is wanting, this Quality will be apt to do more Hurt than Good.  
There are two Kind's of Liberality. The one consists in Sumptuousness and Show; and this is to very little purpose. 
Of two Kind's.  It is certainly a very idle and vain Imagination, for Princes to think of raising their Character, and setting themselves off by August, and Splendid, and expensive Appearances: especially too among their own Subjects, where they can do what they please, and are sure to have no Rival of their Grandeur. This seems rather a Mark of a little Soul; an Argument, that they want a due Sense of what they really are, and is both beneath Them to do, and very unacceptable to their People to see. For, however for the present Subjects may gaze at their Pomp's with Delight, yet assoon as the Entertainment is over, they presently begin to reflect, that Their Princes are thus enriched and adorned with Their Spoils; that This is no better than being sumptuously feasted at Their Cost; and that the Money, which now feeds their Sight with Triumphs and Gaudy Greatness, is pinched from more necessary Occasions, and would have been much better saved to feed their Bellies. And besides all this; a Prince should be so far from Lavish and Profuse, that he should make great Conscience of Frugality; for indeed he should think nothing he enjoys strictly his own; since engaged in a Trust, that requires his All, his very Life and Person to be devoted to the Good of others.  
The Second sort of Liberality is that which consists in distributing Gifts, and making Presents: Of This indeed there is considerable Use, and a just Commendation due to it. But then this must be discreetly managed too; and good Care should always be taken, To what Persons, in what Proportions, and after what Manner this is done. As to the Persons. They ought to be well chosen, such whose Merits recommend them to their Bounty; such as have been serviceable to the Public; such as have hazarded their Fortunes and their Persons, and run through the Dangers and Fatigues of War. These are such Persons, as none but the Unthinking or the very Ill-natured can grudge any thing to, or envy the Favour, so as to represent the Prince as Partial or Undistinguishing in his Liberality. Whereas, quite otherwise, great Gratuities distributed without any regard to Merit, and where there really is none, derive Shame and Odium upon the Receiver; and are entertained without those due Acknowledgements, and that grateful Sense, which the Favours of a Prince ought to find. Some Tyrants have been sacrificed and given up to the Rage and Spite of an incensed Rabble, by those very Servants whom they had raised from Nothing; while these Creatures of theirs have been as much diverted with their Master's Misfortunes, as any of their Enemies, and have taken this Course to ingratiate themselves with the Mobb, and for securing their own Fortunes, by giving Demonstrations of the Hatred and Contempt to the Person, from whom those Fortunes were entirely derived.  
Nor is it less necessary, that the Proportion of a Prince's Liberality should be strictly regarded; for otherwise this may run out into such Squandering and Excess, That both the Giver and the Government may be impoverished and brought to Ruin by it. For, to give to every body, and upon every Occasion, is to play with a losing Hand, and till all's gone. Private Men are for making their Fortunes, and it is not possible to satisfy them; they will soon grow extravagant in their Requests, if they find their Prince to be so in his Favours; and the Rule they Measure by, is not Reason, but Example; not how much is fit to be granted to Them, but how much hath already been granted to Others. However, by this Means the Public Treasures will be exhausted; and a King be necessitated to seize other People's Rights, that 
* Quod Ambiticne exhaustum, per Scelera supplendum.  so Injustice and Oppression may heal and reimburse these Wants, which Ambition and Prodigality have created. Now, it were infinitely better to give nothing at all, than to take away from one to give to another. For after all our Kindness, the Gratitude and Affection of those that are obliged by us, never makes so deep Impressions, nor sticks half so close, as the Resentments of them, that have been injured and plundered. Besides, This Profuseness is its own Destruction, for the Spring cannot run always; if you draw too fast, it will soon be drained dry. 
* Liberalitate Liberalitas perit.  By being Liberal. says St. Jerom, Man makes it impossible to be so. For a farther Prevention whereof, as well as upon, other very good Considerations, it will be convenient to spin out ones Liberality; to let it come gently and by degrees, rather than to give all we intent at once. For that which is done on the sudden, and at a heat, be the thing never so considerable in itself, yet passes off, as it were insensibly, and is quickly forgotten. All things that have a grateful Relish should be contrived to be as slow and leisurely in the Passage, as can be; that so the Palate may have time to taste them: but, on the contrary, all those Dispensations that are harsh and severe, (when Occasions call for any such) should be dispatched with all possible Convenience, that so, like bitter Potions, they may be swallowed at once. Thus you see, that the Giving as becomes one, is an Act of Prudence, and the Exercise of Liberality to the best Advantage, requires great Address and Skill. To which purpose Tacitus hath this notable Remark. 
† Falluntur, quibus Luxuria Specie Liberalitatis imponit, pordere multi sciunt, donare nesciunt.  Those Persons (says he) are under a mighty Error, who know not how to distinguish between Liberality and Luxury; abundance of Men know how to squander, that do not know how to give. And to speak the very Truth, Liberality is not a Virtue peculiar to King's and milder Governments only, but very consistent even with Tyranny itself. And surely the Tutors and Governors of young Princes are much in the wrong, when they labour to possess their Minds with such strong and early Impressions of Giving; of refusing nothing that is asked of them; of thinking nothing so well employed, as what they give to their Friends. This is the Jargon usual in such Cases. But either This seems to proceed from some Advantage these Instructors design to make of such a Principle hereafter, or for want of due regard to the Person they address themselves to. For a too governing Notion of Liberality is of very ill Consequence, in a Person, whose Fortunes are so plentiful, as to supply the Expenses of others, at what rate himself shall think fit. And of the Two Extremes, though either of them are very far from Good, yet a Prodigal or a Giving Prince, he that spends upon his own Vanities, or he that seeds those of his Servants and Favourites, without Discretion and due Measure, is a great deal worse than a Stingy One, that keeps his Hand shut to all. And, whereas these frequent Boons are pretended of Use to make Friends, and secure the Service and Affection of those who are obliged by them: There is very little or nothing of Substance in this Argument; For immoderate and undistinguishing Liberality encourages every body to ask and to expect, and so for One Friend, makes Ten Enemies, in Proportion as the Repulses must needs be more frequent, than the Grants. But indeed, if it be wisely and well regulated, it is undoubtedly, as I said before, exceeding Graceful and Commendable in a Prince, and may prove of Excellent Advantage, both to Himself and to the State.  
Another very becoming Virtue is Magnanimity. That I mean more peculiarly, 
Nagnanimity.  which consists in a Greatness of Spirit not easily to be provoked, such as despises and can pass over Injuries and Indecencies, and moderate his Anger when it gins to fly out. 
* Magnam Fortunam magnus Animus decet.— Injurias & Offensiones superne despicere.— Indignus Caesaris irâ.  A Great Fortune and Dignity should have a Noble Mind; such as can look down upon Wrongs and Provocations, as Matters a great way below it, and not worth its Notice; and Majesty should consider that there are not many Offences which will justify a Prince's being angry. Besides, to fret and be concerned, is often interpreted for Consciousness of Gild; and that which a Man makes slight of, blows quickly over, and seldom sticks long. So says the wise Roman, 
† Convitia si irascere, agnita videntur; spreta exolescunt.  If Reproaches put you in a Passion, the World will look upon this as a sort of Confession: But if you disregard them, they vanish and die without doing any manner of Prejudice. But then, if any Provocation be given, which ministers just and sufficient Cause to be angry, let those Resentments be expressed openly without labouring to conceal or to dissemble them; that the People about him may have no reason to suspect any thing of a Secret Grudge, or a Mischievous Design in him. For these are Qualities for the meanest and basest sort of People, and Symptoms of a Malicious, Devilish and Incurable Dispesition. 
⁂ Obscuri & irrevocabiles reponunt odia. Saev●e Cogitationis indicium secreto suo satiari.  Pitiful Fellows and Vnreclaimable Wretches keep Malice in their Hearts (says Tacitus) and to feed upon a Grudge is an evident Mark of Baseness and Barbarity. Of the two, the giving Offence and doing an Ill thing is less disagreeable to the Character of a Great Man, than the Hating and Maligning of others for doing so to Him. And thus I have done with the Head of Virtue; the other Branches of it in general being not so properly distinguishing Properties and peculiar Ornaments of the Royal Dignity, as Excellencies lying in common between Princes and the rest of Mankind.  
The next thing that comes under our Consideration after the Prince's Virtue, is what they call his Manner, that is, 
The third Head. Behaviour  his Behaviour and Way of Living; the Mien, the Port, the Address, that suit with the Majesty of a Prince; and all those profound Respects so necessary to be kept up. Upon this I shall not insist at all, only, by the way as it were, touch upon it. Now though Nature contribute a great deal to this in the Form, and Temper, and Person, yet all that Nature does is capable of Amendment and Improvement both, by the additional Helps of Industry and Art. Under the Head we are now upon, may be reckoned the Air of his Face, the Composure of his Countenance, his Fashion and Behaviour, his Gate, his Tone, and manner of Speech, his Clothes and Dressing. The general Rule to be observed in all these Particulars, is such a Mixture of Sweetness and Moderation, of Stayedness and Gravity, as may win upon men's Minds, and move their Affections pleasingly; such as may keep the middle Way between Familiarity and Fear, engage their Love, and yet command their Honour and Respect. His Court and Conversation are likewise worth taking notice of. For the former, it is convenient that it should be very public, that the Palace he dwells in should be Noble and Magnificent, sit for Resort and Correspondence; and if that can be well contrived, not far from the Middle of his Country, or, at least, the most significant Part of it; that so his Eye may command all the Quarters; and like the Sun in the midst of the Firmament, pierce, enlighten and warm all round about him, with the Influence of his Beams. For when a Prince resides in some very remote Corner of his Dominions, this Distance emboldens those in the contrary Extremity to behave themselves insolently, and grow Tumultuous and Unruly. As for●h's Conversation, That should be very reserved, his Considents and familiar Friends but few, his Progresses and other Appearances in public but seldom; that the People may always be eager and glad to see him: For the showing himself often, and giving too easy Access to his Person, will mightily lessen the Majesty of his Character. 
* Continun● Aspectus minùs verendos magnos homines ipsa satietate facit. Liv.  The being always admitted to the Sight and Presence of Great Persons, does mightily impair and diminish our Respect, by Glutting our Curiesity, says one of the Roman Historians: And another to this purpose: 
† Majestati major ex longinquo Reverentia; quia omne ignotum pro magnih co est.  Majesty is always most reverenced at a distance: for Nature forms all our Ideas bigger than the Life; and what we are not acquainted with, is always fancied to be very Great and Stately.  
After the Three Things already treated of, 
The fourth Head. Counsel.  The Knowledge of his People and Government, the Virtues of his Mind, and the Fashion and Address of the Prince; all which are inseparable from his own Person; The next things we are led to consider, are such as are near and about his Person. And therefore in the fourth place, let us say somewhat concerning his Counsel, which, in truth, is the main Point of all this Head, which relates to his Politics, and of Consequence so vast, that it is in a manner All in All. For Counsel is the Soul of any Government; the Spirit that insuses Life and Motion, Energy and Vigour into all the rest. And upon the Account of This it is, that the Management of Affairs consists in Prudence; because Hand, are of no Significance at all, till the Heads have cut them out their Work, and prescribed their Methods. It were indeed to be wished, That a Prince were enriched with so great a Stock of Prudence and Consideration, as to be able himself to govern, and dispose, and contrive every thing, without calling in Help from abroad; This is such a Sufficiency, as the first Chapter of this Book observed to be the Noblest Perfection, and highest Degree of Wisdom; and no Question can be made, but that Matters would be better ordered, and more successfully dispatched if it could be so. But this is an Accomplishment merely imaginary, no Instance of it is to be found in Nature; whether it be, that Princes want the Advantage of Good Temper, or Good Instruction. And indeed, let Nature be never so bountiful, and Education never so proper, yet it is scarce possible to suppose That all the Parts, and all the Improvements in the World could ever qualify one single Head for the Comprehending and Direction of such infinite Variety of Business. 
* Nequit Princeps suâ scientià cuncta complecti; nee unius Mens tantae molis est capax.  No Prince, says Tacitus, can have a Reach so great, as to be Master of all his Concerns: no one Mind is strong enough to carry so great a Burden, A single Man hears and sees but very little in Comparison; But Kings have need of abundance of Eyes and Ears to assist and give Intelligence. Great Weights and great Undertake can only be made light by a Multitude of Hands. And therefore it is absolutely necessary for a Prince to provide himself with good Advice, and with Persons every way capable of giving it; for as the Case stands, and the Intrigues of Government are perplexed, he that will take upon him to do all of his own Head, shall much sooner six upon himself the Character of Pride and Conceitedness, than gain the Reputation of Wisdom. A Prince then, of all Men, hath most need of faithful Friends, 
Liv.  and diligent Servants who may assist him in his Difficulties, and ease him of part of his Cares. These are the real, the most valuable Treasures of a King, 
Tacit.  and the most useful Instruments to the Public: And therefore the first and great Care must be, to make a wise Choice of Assistants, and employ the utmost Application, 
Plin.  and bend all one's Judgement to have such as are excellent and proper for a Post of such vast Importance. Now of these Assistants, there are two sorts; One that contribute their Advice, and Project only; 
Xenoph.  and these employ their Wit, and their Tongue; and are in strict propriety of Speech, Counsellors; the Other are concerned in the executive part, they lend us their Hands, and their Pains, and these are more properly styled Officers. Of these the former sort are in much the more Honourable Character: For thus the two great Philosophers have declared their Opinion, 
Plato. Aristot.  that it is a most Sacred and Divine Accomplishment, to consider judiciously, and be able to advise well.  
Now in Persons thus to be chosen and employed, 
Qualifications of Counsellors.  several Qualifications are necessary: As, first of all, It is necessary to choose such as are Faithful, and fit to be trusted; that is, in one Word, Men of Virtue and good Principles. 
* Optimum quemque sidelissimum puto.  I take for granted, (says Pliny) that the better Man any one is, the more staunch and true be is, and more safe to be depended upon. Secondly, They must be Persons of Ability, and proper for this Office, not only in regard of their Knowledge and Learning in general, but upon the Account of their Skill in Politics, and that express Form of Government in particular; such as have been used, and tried before, and have come off with Honour and Success, versed in Business, and accustomed to Difficulties: For Hardships and Adversities are the most useful and improving Lessons. 
† Mihi Fortuna multis rebus ereptis usum dedit bene suadendi. Mithr. in Salusi.  Fortune, says one, in the room of many Advantages which she hath torn frem me, hath given me the Faculty of Advice and Posuasion. And in one Word, They must be wise and discreet, moderately quick, not too sprightly and sharp; for such Men will be always projecting. And 
⁂ Novandis quam gerendis rebus aptiora ingenia illa ignea.  Mon of Fire are more for Change, than steady Management. Now in order to these Qualifications, it is necessary that they should be Men of ripe Years, to give them Stayediness, Experience, and Consideration; nay, I may add, to inspire them with Caution too; for it is one of the many Unhappinesses attending Youth, that Persons than are easily imposed upon; of which the Tenderness and Softness of their Brain may perhaps be one reason, as that may dispose them the more easily to receive any Impression, and consequently to Credulity and Easiness of Temper. It is for the Convenience of a Prince to have notable Men of all sorts about him; both those who are called so upon the account of their Wisdom, and those that excel in Subtlety and Cunning. The former indeed ought to be more numerous, and are more especially requisite, because they are more for the Honour of their Master, and of more constant use; for these are the Managers of all regular and ordinary Proceed. The Men of Art are for Cases of necessity and extraordinary Emergencies, to help at a Pinch, and to countermine a Danger.  
A Third Qualification necessary for Counsellors, is Openness, and Freedom, and Courage in all their Behaviour, when consulted with. They must use their utmost Care, that all their Proposals be for the Honour and Advantage of their Prince; and, when once they have secured this Point, that the Advice be wise and good, all Flattery and Disguise should be laid aside; all Equivocatings, and Reservations, and Craftiness of Expression detested and despised, by which they may seem to aim at ingratiating themselves, or to contrive that what they say may be acceptable to their Master. These are the Men Tacitus describes, who accommodate all their I anguage as they see occasion, and do 
* Ne cum Fortunâ potius Principis loquantur, quam cum ipso.  not so properly d●s●curse with their Prince, as with his present Inclinations and Cncumstances. They consider him as a Great Man, as one able to make their Fortunes; they observe what he would do, not what is best and fittest for him to do. Whereas indeed all these Regards aught to be utterly banished their Thoughts; they should have a constant Eye upon the Sacredness of their Office, and the Importance of the Trust reposed in them; and looking no farther than the Reason, and Justice, and Cenvenience of the thing, speak the Truth and spare not: For however harsh and distasteful this Liberty, and Openness, and honest Blunt-dealing may be at the present to those Persons, whose Opinion and Inclinations it happens to cross; yet there will soon come a time, when it will obtain Respect and Esteem. 
† In praesentia quibus resistis, offendis: deinde illis suspicitur laudaturque.  Opposition is offensive just at the Instant; but upon cooler Thoughts, the very Persons you opposed, will commend and admire your plain-dealing. A Man should likewise take care to be consistent with himself, firm to his Principle, without veering and wheeling about perpetually, as oft as other People's Humours shift into a fresh Quarter. But as he must not be changeable and obsequious in a base compliance with the Passions or Pleasures of others, so neither must he be stiff and peremptory in his own Opinions. There is always a Decency to be observed, and great Difference to be made, between Constancy and Contradiction. For Opiniatrety and Fierceness confounds all manner of Deliberation; and therefore I am far from desiring my good Counsellor to be inflexible; as knowing very well, that harkening to other Men's Reasons, and changing our own Opinions upon them, is so far from deserving the Reproach of Rashness or Inconstancy, that it ought rather to be looked upon as a Testimony of Modesty and Ingenuity, and great Prudence: For 
* Non semper it uno gradu, sed unâ viâ: non se mutat, sed aptat.  although the wise Man always walk in the same Way, and by the same Rule, yet he does not always go the same Pace, nor tread in the same Steps; Change he does not then, so properly as accommodate and mend himself; Like the skilful Sailor, who plies to every Wind, and whose Excellency lies in trimming the Sails that way that the Gale blows freshest. Thus a Man must oftentimes go about to make the Port he designs, when there is no coming at it by a straight Course. And it shows the Dexterity and Address of a Counsellor, to be able to change his Methods, when those which were first chosen are either disapproved, or by some Accident rendered useless and ineffectual.  
Another necessary Accomplishment for this Post, is the making a Conscience of Revealing any Debates he shall be privy to. For Silence and Secrecy are exceeding necessary in the management of all Public Affairs: Insomuch that a great Author hath pronounced it impossible for that Man to manage any matter of Consequence, who is not so much Master of himself as to keep his own Counsel. 
† Res magnae sustinere nequeunt ab eo, cui tacere grave est.  For how should he support the weight of Public Business, to whom even Silence is a Burden? But upon this Occasion the concealing what one knows is not sufficient, I must likewise caution him against knowing too much. A Curious and Inquisitive Temper, which loves to be busy, and inform itself of other People's Actions and Conterns, is no commendable Quality in any case; but to pry into the Affairs of Princes, and value one's self upon knowing Their Secrets, is as dangerous as it is unmannerly: And as Tacitus hath well observed, 
* Exquirere abditos Principis sensus illicitum & anceps. Tacit.  Nothing is more hazardous, nothing more unfit for us, than officiously to dive, and be bold with their retired Thoughts and Intentions. And therefore, whatever a Man knows of this kind should come freely and without his seeking; nay, I make no difficulty to affirm, that it is commendable in a Man to decline the Opportunities of having such things imparted to him, and to know as little of them as possibly he can. This argues Reverence and Modesty, prevents all Jealousy, and suits the distance between a Prince and his Subjects.  
Thus I have given my Reader a short Account of those good Conditions which seem necessary for the qualifying Men to be Counsellors of State. And by these he will be able to tell himself, what are those ill Qualities, which meapacitate a Man for such a Trust. That a Prince in making his Choice, should be sure to reject all such as are of Confident, Assuming, Presumptuous Tempers; because these Vices make Men hot, and arrogant in Debates, positive and bold in their own Sense: And a Wise Man, quite contrary, will be content to allow Second and Third Thoughts; to examine every thing over and over. It is the Character of such a one to suspect himself, to be jealous of the Consequence, searful in advising and resolving, that so he may afterwards be more vigorous and assured, when he comes to execution. 
† Nam Animus vereri qui scit, scit tuto aggredi.  For the Mind that knoweth how to be afraid, and undertakes warily, will act more securely, and go upon surer Grounds. Fools, choir contrary, are eager and assured, blind and bold in Debate; but when they come to Action, cowardly and tame. 
⁂ Consilia calida & audacia primà specie laeta sunt, tractatu clara, eventu tristia.  Advice given with Heat and Confidence looks fair and gay at first sight; but the execution of it is hard and desperate, and the Event full of Grief and Disappointment. Next to this presumptuous Vanity and Heat, Passion is improper for such Ministers of State; All Anger and Envy, Hatred and Spite, Avarice and Ambition, all Selfish Narrowness of Spirit, and private Interest; for these are all of them Corrupters of the best Sense, the very Bane of all sound Judgement; Integrity, and faithful Discharge of a public Character cannot dwell in the same Breast, with these personal Piques, and private Affections. 
* Private res somper ofiecere officientque publicis consiliis; Ce●●umen●●●● affect●is & judicii venenum sua cuique Utilitas.  Private Advantage ever did, and ever will obstruct and confound public Counsels; and each single Man's Profit, is that which Poisons all good Sense, and kind Inclination to the Common Good.  
One Thing more remains absolutely Necessary to be avoided, and that is Precipitation; An irreconcilable Enemy to Prudence and good Counsel; and fit for nothing but to put Men upon doing amiss, and then being all amed and unfortunate upon that Account. And thus much shall suffice at Present for a Description of those Qualities, which ought to concur, and the Vices and Defects which must be declined in order to the accomplishing Men for Counsellors of State.  
Now, such as these it is the Prince's Business to employ; and those are the Rules, by which his Choice ought to be directed. For his own Personal Knowledge of Persons so qualified will be the greatest Security he can have; but if he be not capable of making the Distinction himself, nor can with Safety rely upon his own Judgement in the Case, than Reputation and common Fame is what he must be contented with. And upon such Occasions a general Character seldom leads us into great Mistakes; for which Reason one desired his Prince, That he would look upon him and his Brethren in Office to be such, as the World esieemed them. For Hypocrisy is but a parricular Thing, and of a very limited extent, 
† Ram singuh decip● & de●●pi possunt; nemo omnes, netait●●● 〈…〉  Single Men may deceive and be deceived, but never did any Man deceive all the World we was ever any Man mistaken in all the World. Great Care should be taken upon this Occasion, that a Prince do not trust himself with Flatterers and sawning Parasites, with particular Favourites. Court-Officers, and mercenary Wretches, whose Confidence is a Reproach to their Master; and will be his Ruin, when they can have a good Price for betraying him. For after all: the Cabal, and the Cabinet is the Foundation of most Monarch's undoing: We see it not, till it comes upon the open Stage; but there it begun, and from thence it moves and works under Ground, long before the World can discern it. Now, when a Prince hath made this Choice, and sound Persons for his Purpose, the next thing incumbent upon him is to make a Wise Use of them. And That is to be done, by consulting them early and in a Season proper for Deliberation; not driving all off, till the very Instant of Action, when the Time is too short for debate, and cool Consideration; nor, on the other Hand, Trifling and losing Time in hearing their tedious Disputes, when his Affairs require a speedy Resolution. Again, This Advice of theirs must be attended to with a Judicious Reserve; he must not give himself blindly up to it, and follow their Determinations Right or Wrong, as that very weak Emperor Claudius is said to have done: And he must likewise temper this Discretion with Moderation and Gentleness, without being too stiff and inflexible in his own Sense: Since, generally speaking, that Remark of the wise Marcus Antoninus holds good, who says it is better for one Man to come over, and to comply with the Advice of a great many good Friends, than that all their Opinions should be set aside, and they forced to truckle to his single Arbitrary Pleasure. I cannot but apprehend it of great Advantage in this Case, to keep a Man's self pretty lose, and use one's Counsellors, with a sort of Authority mixed with Indifference. My Meaning is, Not immediately to reward Men for their good Counsel; because such present Pay will be a Temptation to ill Men to thrust themselves forward in advising; and so that which is really bad, will be put upon him in hopes of a Reward; Nor on the other Hand to discountenance or use Men roughly for counselling amiss; Because this will create a Shyness in all about him; and no body will dare to advise freely if the delivering their Opinion shall expose them to Danger and Disgrace. And besides, The Judgement of good and bad Counsel is very uncertain, because it usually proceeds upon the Issue. Whereas the most injudicious Counsels have often succeeded as well or better than the Wisest, by a strange overruling Power of Providence, thus asserting its Government of us, and all our Affairs here below. And again, It ought to be remembered, that They, who give the best, that is, the safest and most prosperous Counsel, are not upon that Account to be concluded our faithfullest Friends, nor best affected to our Interest; for many times They who love us best, may be mistaken in their Measures; and they who wish us no Good, may yet put us in the way of a great deal. Nor ought a Prince to resent Freedom and Plainness upon these Occasions. For This in all Reason ought rather to be acceptable; and a wise Man will keep a Jealous Eye upon Flattering and Timorous Fellows, such as make it their Business to soothe his Humours, and had rather see him perish by false Measures, than disgust him to his own Advantage. And sure if there be a Miserable Creature upon Earth, it is that Prince, to whom no Body about him dares tell the Truth; he that must live by the help of other People's Senses, and yet all who see and hear for him, are under a necessity of dissembling and disguising in their own Defence, and dare show him nothing as it really is. A Man 
* Cujus Aures ita formatae sunt, ut aspera quae utilia; & nil nisi jucundum & laesurum recipiant.  whose Ears, as Tacitus expresses it, are so oddly contrived, that all Sounds are harsh and grating, which tell profitable Truths; and they never think themselves entertained, but with such pleasing Words as are sure to do Mischief. The last Caution necessary for the making a good Use of Proper Counsellors, is, To conceal his own Opinion, and not determine Publicly what he approves most, or what he resolves to do; for when all is done, Secrecy is the very Life and Soul of Counsel; and 
† Nulla meliora consilia, quam quae ignoraverit adversarius antequam fierent.  That Advice is always best, which your Enemy knows nothing of, till the Execution declared what it was.  
As for the Officers, 
Officers.  which come now to be next considered; by These I mean such as serve the Prince, and the Government, in some public Trust. And They ought to be made Choice of with great Discretion; Persons of Honour and Virtue, well-descended, and whose Families are of Quality and Reputation in the World. It is reasonable to believe, that Men of this Character will approve themselves best in their respective Stations; and That of Birth particularly is so considerable a Qualification, that it is by no Means for the Honour of a Prince, or the Decency of his Court, that People of mean Extract should be admitted near his Person, and commissioned to preside over others, except some very great and remarkable Merit, give them a just and visible preference, and make amends for the want of Quality and Descent. But Men of Infamous Lives, False and Base; Men of no Principles, or of such as are Dangerous and Worse than none; in short, Men under Circumstances, which either fix an odious Character, such as the World have reason to hate, or to despise, to be ashamed of, or to suspect, should not upon any Terms be admitted to any Office or Trust. After these Conditions, as to their Morals, we must not forget, that as great a Regard is due to their Understandings. And that, not only to see, that they be Men of Parts and Judgement in general, but that each Person be disposed of to such an Employment, as best agrees with his own Genius and Attainments in Particular. For some are Naturally fittest for Military, and others for Civil Trusts. Some have thought it a general good Rule for Officers of all sorts, to choose Men of a mild and gentle Disposition, and moderate Character; for your violent and topping Spirits, that are full of themselves, and cannot be prevailed upon to yield to any, or quit the least Punctilio, commonly speaking, are not at all fit for Business. 
* Ut pares negotiis, neque suprà; sint recti, non erecti.  Let the Persons you employ be therefore a Match for their Business, and able to deal with it; but not too much above, and able to play with it; Men that know how to give and take their Due, but not such as will sacrifice the Public to a Nice Point of Honour, and their own Unseasonable Vanity.  
Next after Counsel, we may very well be allowed to place Treasures; 
The Fifth Head Treasure  for certainly these must be confessed a very great Point; a useful, necessary, and powerful Provision. If Advice be the Head that sees and directs, Money is the Nerves, the Hands, the Feet of the State, by which it moves, and acts, and is strongly knit together. For when all is done, there is no Sword cuts deep, not makes its own way through, like that with a Silver Edge. No Master is so Absolute in his Commands, so readily obeyed; No Orator so Eloquent, so Persuasive, so Winning upon the Wills and Affections of Men; no Conqueror so Successful, or so great a Gainer by Storms, and Sieges, and force of Arms, as a good Purse. This is served with Zeal, and obeyed without Grudging; this gets Possession of Hearts, and draws the World after it; this takes Towns and Castles, without the Expense of Blood, or Time, or Hazard. And therefore a Wise Prince will always think himself obliged to take care, that his Treasury be in good Condition; and that he never be disabled in this so very necessary, so vital a Part of his Government. Now, the Art and the Care of effecting and securing this, consists in Three Particulars. The First whereof concerns the providing good Funds; The Second in employing the Money arising from them to the best Advantage; and the Third in keeping a constant Reserve, that he may never be destitute of a necessary Supply, upon any sudden Accident, or pressing Occasion. And in all these Cases, there are Two things, which the Prince must by all means look upon himself bound to avoid; which are Injustice, and sordid Frugality; for how Necessary and Advantageous soever the Observation of these Rules may be, yet he must never purchase this Convenience at so dear a Rate, as the Invasion of other Men's Rights, or the loss of his own Honour.  
For the First of these, which relates to laying the Foundation as it were, and amassing together a sufficient Treasure, there are several Methods of doing it. Many Springs, which, like so many little Streams, contribute to the filling up this common Cistern; 
Funds.  but, though all of them pour in some, yet they do not all supply the same Proportion, nor are they all perpetual, or equally to be depended upon. For Instance. One Fund is the Crown Lands, 
I.  and Demesnes, and other standing Revenues appointed to the Use of the Prince, for the Support of his Grandeur and Government. And these aught to be husbanded to the best Advantage, and kept up to their old Rents, and put into good Hands: They should by no means be alienated without some very urgent Exigency require it; but looked upon as things Sacred, and such as in their own Nature are not transferrable to any other Owner. 
II.  Another is, the Conquests made upon Enemies, which should be so ordered, as to turn to good Account; and not squandered, and prodigally wasted, because they are a sort of additional Wealth, and when they are gone, the Prince is but where he was before. The Power of old Rome is in great Measure owing to their good Management in this Point: They always took Care to bring in vast Sums, not only to pay the Charge of the War, but to enrich and swell their Exchequers with the Wealth transferred thither from the Towns they took, and the Countries they vanquished. This their Historian Livy tells us, was the Practice of their Bravest and most Renowned Generals, Camillus, Flaminius, Aemilius Paulus, the Scipios, Lucullus, and Caesar: and not only so, but after this first drawing over their present Treasures, they constantly imposed a Yearly Stipend to be paid; either by the Natives left upon their own Soil, under these and certain other Conditions; or by those Colonies of Romans, whom they transplanted thither. But still every Conquest brought some substantial Advantage to the Commonwealth, and was more than an empty Name, and the mere Glory of the Thing. The Presents, Free-Gifts, Pensions, Donations, and Grants, 
III.  Tributes, Taxes, arising either from Friends, or Allies, or Subjects; Legacies and Bequests of the Dead, Deeds of Gift from Owners yet surviving, or any other manner of Conveyance: Tolls, and Imposts, 
iv  Customs upon Goods imported or exported, Commodities Foreign or Domestic, Duties upon Docks, and Havens, Ports and Rivers; which hath been a general and very ancient Method of raising Money, as well upon Strangers as Natives; and a very just, lawful, and beneficial Method no doubt it is, when limited with these Conditions; That no Provisions or Other Goods, that are Necessaries of Life, shall be transported, so as to impoverish the Country, and reduce the Subject to straits; nor any raw Wares; but that Materials of home-growth should be likewise wrought up and finished at Home; to find the Subjects Employment, and keep the poor and labouring People at Work, upon their own Manufacture; that so the Profit and Wages, as well as the Stuff might centre and circulate among Natives; and the Growth of one Nation not be transferred to the enriching of another. But now, when these Commodities are wrought and dressed, there is good Reason for carrying them to foreign Markets; as it is likewise Policy to import all the raw and unwrought Commodities they can, and to prohibit all foreign and finished Manufactures; because in all these Cases there is greater Encouragement, and Opportunity given for Labour. And it is also highly reasonable in all Matters of Traffic, that a heavier Imposition should be laid upon Strangers who trade among us, than the natural Subjects of the same Country. For all foreign Impositions bring large Sums into the Treasury, and are a great Ease to the Subject, which is a Consideration always to be regarded; and for that Reason the Customs which are laid upon all such Necessaries of Life, as are imported from abroad, should be moderated, and brought as low, as possibly they can. These Four Methods already mentioned, are not only allowable, and convenient, but strictly Just, and Equitable; Honourable and Fair. The Fifth, which, I confess, is not altogether so agreeable to Decency, 
V  and the Dignity of a Prince, is That of Trade, which is carried on for the Profit of the Sovereign by means of his Factors, and hath several Methods of turning to Account, which are some less, and some more liable to Scandal; but the most Infamous and the most Destructive of all, is the setting to sale Offices, and Honours, Preferments and Places of Trust. There is indeed a Course not yet mentioned, which I think will come within the Notion of Trade; and therefore I choose to name it under this Head, for the sake of the Resemblance it bears to the Subject now in Hand. This hath no great Matter of Indecency in it, and hath the Example of several very wise and eminent Princes to give it Countenance; It is the letting out the public Money in Bank, upon a moderate Interest, (as Five in the Hundred Prosit for instance) and securing the Principal, either by an Equivalent in Pawns, or Mortgages, or else such Personal Security, as is sufficient and of unquestionable Credit. And these Loans are of great Advantage in Three Respects: For First, They add greatly to the Wealth of any Government, by taking Care, that it shall always turn to fresh Account, and no part of it ever lie dead. Then Secondly, It is a mighty Convenience to private Men, who by this means are sure of a Fund to trade upon; and cannot sail of being furnished in any Proportion which their Occasions shall require, or which they can find such Security as is fit to be accepted for. But the Third and greatest Senefit of all is, That it keeps this Money out of the ●aws of Sharpers, and saves that to the public Use, which would otherwise become a Prize to the Importunity, and nauseous Flattery of hungry Courtiers, and be thus extorted from the good Nature of a King wearied into gaving. And upon this last Consideration singly, to save the Trouble of being importuned, and the Difficulties of denying; some Princes have found it advisable to lend out their ready Cash without any Interest to be paid upon at ●● purely for the sake of securing the Prime Sum, which they took Care to do, by binding the Debtor in a Penalty of paying double, if he were not Punctual to his Day. 
VI  The Sixth and Last Method is That of Loans and Subsides extraordinary levied upon the Subject; and this should be a Reserve for times of Necessity, a Remedy always to be made use of with Reluctancy, and such as is properly applied, when other stated Methods fall short, and the Exigence of Affairs calls for a larger Supply, than the former Particulars can furnish out. In the Circumstances of this Kind, no doubt can be made of the Justice of the Thing: But then to make this still more easy and gentle to the Subject, it is not only requisite, that the Necessity of such Supplies be evident, and the Public Safety highly concerned in them, but these following Conditions should likewise concur to the sofining them. First: 
I.  That whatever Moneys are advanced upon Loans for the serving a present Occasion, should be afterwards punctually and honestly paid back again, as soon as the Difficulty is over, and the Occasion served. This we find practised by the Commonwealth of Rome, when driven to Extremities by Hannibal. And at this Rate the Prince will never want Money; for while the Exchequer keeps Touch and Credit, private Men will be pleased, nay proud to lend; not only because they think their Cash deposited in safe Hands, and can depend upon their own again with Advantage; but for the Honour and Reputation of having assisted the Public, and served their Prince in a time of Distress. And this to generous Men is a Valuable, and will always be a Powerful Consideration, where the Hazard and Fears of a Loss do not check it. But Secondly, 
II.  If the Public Stock be drawn so low, that the Debt cannot be satisfied from thence, and some fresh extraordinary Imposition be necessary, this should by all Means be adjusted and charged, with the Consent of the Subjects, who are to contribute toward it; The present Defects of the Treasury fairly stated, the Occasion that exhausted it fully represented, and the People made truly sensible of the necessity they are under; so pressing upon them that Passage of the Blessed Saviour, the Gracious King of Kings, The Lord hath need of them; for thus He in marvellous Condescension was pleased to express himself. And in such Circumstances, if the Case require it, and the Satisfaction of the People can be effectually consulted upon those Terms, it may be very advisable to lay an Account of the Receipts and Expenses before them. Persuasion and fair Means are always best employed in Matters of this Nature; and to be driven to use Power and Constraint, is the last Unhappiness that can happen to a Governor. Themistocles was certainly in the right, when he thought it more for the Honour of a Ruler 
* Impetrare melius est quam imper●re.  to gain his Point by Request and Expostulation, than by Commands. And, though it be true, that every Word of a King is full of Power and Force; and what he asks, his Character makes in effect a Command; yet still it is more for the Advantage of the Public, and the Continuance of a mutual Affection and Good Understanding between Prince and People, that this kind of Supply should run in the form of a free Gift; that the Subjects should express their Sense of the Public Necessities; and desire the Prince to accept what Relief they are capable of contributing toward it; at least, it is fit, that these extraordinary Taxes should be limited to a certain Term, that they do not pass into constant Payments, things of Course and Continuance, and that the Subjects never be prescribed to in these Cases, without their own Approbation and Consent. A Third Course to qualify these Impositions, would be, to lay them not upon Persons, but Estates; that Men may pay for what they have, and not for what they are. For a Poll-tax hath every where been looked upon as the most odious of any; it being indeed by no means just, that all should be leveled, where Fortune hath made so vast a difference; and while the Men of Wealth, and Honour, and Noble birth pay little or nothing, that the greatest part of the Duty should rise upon poor Country People, who work hard for their Living. But especially should all possible care be taken in the Fourth place, that such Subsidies should be levied fairly and equally. For the being racked and screwed above one's proportion, is a very grating and intolerable thing, and breeds more murmuring and Contention, than the Charge itself. Now in order to bring every body in, to bear a part in this common Burden, it will be convenient, to tax such Provisions with it, as all Mankind have occasion for, and must make use of: Such as Salt, and Drink, and the like; for thus the Excise will be universal; and every Member of the Public Body will be inexcusably obliged to contribute something to the Public Necessity. Besides these indeed there may, and it is but reasonable there should, be constant and heavy Encumbrances laid upon such Commodities, whether Foreign or Domestic, as are vicious in their use, and tend only to debauch the Subject; and thus all those things manifestly do, which serve only for Luxury and vain Pomp; such as are purchased at dear Rates, merely out of extravagant Humour, or useless Curiosity; all superfluous State in Diet, Clothes, Equipage, the Instruments of Pleasure, Corrupters of Manners, and whatever contributes to a Licentious way of Living. And the loading such things with such Impositions as shall make them yet more expensive, may possibly prove the best Method to discourage the use of them. For Men in the midst of Luxury, will sometimes be content to save their Purses, and abstain upon a Consideration of Tenderness in that respect; when their Consciences would be so far from being restrained by Laws, that a positive Prohibition would rather set a sharper Edge upon their Appetite, and make them but so much more impatient and eager, to come at these things.  
The Second Branch of this Science, relating to the Public Treasures, is the taking good Care that they be well employed. 
The using the Treasure well.  And to this Purpose I will here lay down a short account of the several Heads of Expense, upon which a Prince must necessarily, and aught in Duty to make use of them. Such are, There Subsistence and honourable Salaries of the Household, the Pay of the Soldiers, the Wages of Officers of all sorts, the just Rewards of such, as by their good Services have merited of the Public; The Pensions and charitable Relief extended to those who come well recommended, and are proper Objects of his Royal Bounty and Compassion. These Five are constant and unavoidable Occasions. But then there are others too, very useful and fitting, tho' not so absolutely and always necessary, such as the Reparation of old decayed Towns, strengthening the Frontiers of his Country, amending the Highways, and making Roads as direct and convenient as the Condition of the Place will bear; keeping up Bridges, and all other necessary Accommodations for Travellers; founding Colleges for the study and improvement of Learning, and Religion, and Virtue; Building and Endowing Hospitals for distressed and disabled People, and erecting Public Halls, and other Structures, that are for the Honour and Service of the State. These sorts of Repairs, and Fortifications, and Foundations, are of excellent use and advantage, besides the Profit which immediately redounds to the State in general by their means: For by promoting such Designs, Art is encouraged and improved, Workmen are kept in Employment, the People are highly contented and pleased, and a great part of that Grudging and Repining usual to the Commonalty, is prevented and cured, when they see their Taxes converted to so good uses, and The Benefit comes back to them again: But especially these two great Banes of any Commonwealth are by this means utterly banished, the Plague of Idleness, and the Scandal of Poverty and Beggary. Whereas on the contrary, the consuming the Public Wealth in extravagant Gifts to some particular Favourites, in stately but unnecessary Buildings, or in other vain Expenses, for which there is no need, and whereof there can be no use, draws a general Odium and Indignation. For the Subjects cannot bear to think that so many Thousand should be stripped to cloth and make one Man sine; that another should strut and look big with their Money; and that the great Houses should be built with their Blood, and the Sweat of their Brows: For such as these are the grumbling Terms, in which the Vulgar, when provoked to discontent, murmur out their Resentments; and nothing touches them so near as Money, and a Notion of Extravagance and Wastfulness in the Disposal of their Taxes.  
The Third and Last Part of this Advice consists in taking care to have a good Supply in reserve for any extraordinary Exigence that may happen: 
Saving.  That so, in Cases of necessity, a Prince may not be driven to sudden and unjust Remedies, nor use Violence upon others to help himself. This Store thus laid up, and frugally managed for the Prince to draw out as he sees sit, is the common Notion of the Exchequer. Now in the management of this Article, there are two Extremes which must be both avoided, because each of them is of very dangerous Consequence to the Person that falls into it. The One is, That of immoderate Greediness in amassing prodigious Sums; for such Treasures, tho' got by Methods never so just and honourable, are not always the most for a Prince's Security, when they are out of measure. They really very often involve him in Wars, either by putting him upon Oppressing and invading his weaker Neighbours, in confidence of hisown Strength, and than the longest Purse will be sure to carry it at last; or else they are a Bait to some Enemy to fall upon Him. And therefore it is much more for the Safety and Advantage, as well as for the Honour of a King, to convert them to such uses as have been already mentioned, than to let them grow exorbitantly great upon hishands, and so either tempt the Owner to Insolence, or expose him for a Prey to those who want such Prize. The Other Extreme is spending all, and keeping nothing to help at a Pinch; and This is worse than the Former; for such a Governor stands naked and defenceless, and like a foolish Gamester, plays away his last Stake. And therefore all wise Governors take care not to fall into this desperate Condition. The greatest Treasures that History informs us of in any Monarchy heretofore, were th●●e of Darius the last King of Persia, in whose Exchequer Alexander the Great at the Conquest of his Country, is laid to have sound Fourscore Millions of Gold. That of Tileri●● amounted to Sixty Seven Millions. Trajan had Five and Fifty Millions laid up in Egypt. But that of David exceeds all the rest; for (which is a thing almost incredible in so small, and, in comparison, despicable, a Dominion as that of Jud●●) 
* What public Treasure for Civil Uses, this Author refers to, I do not know, for want of his Marginal Quotations, in which he is frequently defective; but the Sum reserved for building the Temple, is yet infinitely more amazing: That in the XXII. of 1 Chronic. v. 14. is said to be a Hundred Thousand Talents of Gold; which, at the rate of Four Pound an Ounce, would be valued among us at Seventy Five Millions Sterling; and a Thousand Thousand Talents in Silver, which at five Shillings per Ounce, comes to 187 Millions 500000 l. computing Seven Hundred and Fifty Ounces of Metal to each Talon. And besides all this, 'tis said the Brass and Iron were unmeasurably great, as also the Stores of Timber and Stone left Solomon to begin with.  the Holy Scripture itself takes notice, that he had amassed together a Hundred and Twenty Millions.  
Now the Method in use heretofore, for preserving these great Treasures from being spent and squandered away profusely, or being stolen, and secretly broke in upon, was to melt them down into large massy Ingots or Balls, as the Persians and Romans were wont to do; or else to lay them up in the Temples of their Gods, as the securest and most sacred Repository, as the Grecians frequently did in the Temple of Apollo. Though this did not always succeed to their Expectation; for Covetousness often broke through the most superstitious Reverence for their Deities, and plundered their very Gods themselves, in despite and defiance of all their imaginary Thunder. Thus also the Romans held their Office of Exchequer in the Temple of Saturn. But that, which of all others seems to be not only the safest, but the most gainful Course, is what Imentioned before, of lending out these Sums to Private Men at a moderate Interest, upon good Pawns, or sufficient Security, Real or Personal. Again, Another advisable Expedient for preserving the Public Treasures from Encroachment and Dishonesty, is to take good care in disposing of the Offices concerned about them. For sure the Management of such a Trust is of too great importance to be set to sale; and no Fidelity can be expected, where Men are out of Pocket, and must reimburse themselves at the Public Expense: Nor should Men of mean Quality, vulgar and Mechanic People, be admitted to purchase them; but they ought in all reason to be put into the Hands of Men of Birth and Fortunes, such as may be supposed to act upon Principles of Honour, and whose Circumstances set them above any violent Temptations of sordid or foul Dealing: And in this particular the old Romans set us a good Pattern, who entered the young Gentlemen of their best Families in Rome in this kind of Business: They looked upon it as the noblest Education; and from this first setting out, their greatest Men were raised by degrees to the highest Honours, and most important Offices in the Commonwealth.  
His Army, I think may very fitly be placed after the Counsel, 
The Sixth Head Nilitary Force.  and the Treasury of a Prince; for Nature itself hath put that Precedence out of dispute, by making it impossible for Forces, either to be well raised, or well ordered, and used successfully, and to good purpose; or indeed so much as to subsist, when they are raised without the Support and Direction of those two former Provisions. Now a Military Force is absolutely necessary for a Prince, to be a Terror to his Enemies, a Guard and Security to his Person and Government: And for any Man in a Throne to think of sitting quiet there any considerable time, without some Number of Forces, is the fondest Imagination in the World. There is never any perfect Security between the Weak and the Strong; and no State was never yet so composed, as to be quite void of turbulent Spirits, and free from Dangers and Disturbances, both at Home and Abroad. Now this Power is either a constant determinate number, such as are always in Pay, the Ordinary Standing Force; or else it is Additional and Extraordinary, levied in time of War, and of no longer continuance than the Occasion of raising it. The Ordinary standing Forces are confined to Persons and Places. The Persons are of Two sorts. There are the King's Guards, such as always attend his Person, and are of use, not only as they contribute to the Safety and Preservation of his Royal Life; but likewise as they add to his Pomp and Grandeur, in making all his Appearances more august and venerable, and every way becoming so sublime a Character. For that so mightily celebrated Saying of Agesilau●, That a Prince might always be safe without any Guard at all, provided he commanded as he ought, and used his Subject as an affectionate and wise Father would deal by his Children. This Aphorism, I say, is far from being alays true; and He were a Madman, who at this time of Day would venture to make the Experiment, and depend upon the best and gentlest Treatment for his Security. For alas! the Wickedness of the World is not so easily won upon; and Men are too ill-natured to be charmed into Gratitude, and Returns of Duty, by all the Tenderness, and Affection, and Desert in the World.  
Besides these Guards, it is necessary there should be standing Troops kept in constant Pay, and perfectly well-disciplined, which may be ready upon any sudden Accident that shall require their Use and Assistance; For it would be extremely improvident to have no Preparations of this kind, and drive off the raising of Men, and qualifying them for Service, till the very instant that Necessity calls for them.  
As for the Places, in which such Forces are disposed, they are properly the Forts and Castles upon the Frontiers, which ought constantly to be well Manned, and provided with Arms and Ammunition, to prevent Surprise, and Incursions from abroad: Instead of which, the Ancients heretofore, and some at this Day, choose rather to transplant the Foreigners and former Inhabitants, and to people all such Towns with new and populous Colonies of their own, as they enlarge their Borders by fresh Conquests.  
The Extraordinary Forces consist of form Armies, which a Prince finds himself obliged to raise, and make a plentiful Provision of in time of War. Now, what Methods he ought to govern himself by in this respect; for the undertaking any Military Enterprise, is a Consideration relating to the Second Branch of this Politic Prudence, That of Action, I mean, which will be treated of in the following Chapter; and falls not within this First, which is only the Provisionary part, and such as is requisite by way of a Preparatory tooth other. All therefore that I shall say upon this Subject at present, is only, That a wise Prince will always take care, besides his own Guards, to have a competent number of Men in actual Pay, perfectly discisplined and experienced in the Busness of their Profession. And that this number ought to be greater or less, in proportion to the Extent of his Dominions, and the Condition of the Government, to secure Obedience and good Order, and immediately to suppress any Seditious Practices and Commotions, which give Disturbance, and Threaten any Danger, either from factious Subjects, or busy designing Enemies. Reserving still to himself the Power and Opportunity of making new and greater Levies, when he shall be forced into a formal War, and to take the Field in good earnest; whether that War shall happen to oblige him in acting Offensively or Defensively. And in the mean while, that his Arsenals and Magazines be constantly well stored with all manner of offensive and desensive Weapons, that so both Horse and Foot may be sufficiently furnished, and completely equipped without Difficulty or Delay. In which Provision I likewise include Ammunition and Provision of all kinds, Engines and Utensils of War, whether for a Camp or a Siege. Such Preparations are not only necessary in order to making War and sustaining ourselves, when Acts of Hostility are committed upon us, and consequently such as every State ought to be beforehand with, because they require a great deal of Time and Expense to have them in readiness for use; but they are excellent Preventions too, and many times put a stop to the Designs of levying War upon us. For few Enemies will tempt a Danger, or venture upon a Government, which is always in Condition to receive, and revenge their Attempts. Surprise, and Advantage, and the being an Over-match, are the Considerations that animate Strangers abroad, or Parties at home, to injure and attack us. The best Security, when all is done, will be for a Prince to render himself formidable; and Men are most likely to be quiet, when they dare not be otherwise for their town sakes. So infallible, so eternal a Maxim is it in Politics, That 
* Qui cupit Pacem, paret Bellum.  the Prince who would establish a firm Peace, must be sure to be well provided for War; and treat with the Sword in his Hand.  
After all these necessary and essential Provisions already mentioned, I add in the last place. That of Alliances; 
The Seventh Head. Alliances.  which is by no means an inconsiderable Point, but a mighty strengthening and support to any Government. But then the greatest part of this Advantage is owing to prudent Choice, and good Conduct; and therefore good care must be taken with Whom those Alliances are made, and upon what sort of Terms they are established.  
The Persons most proper for the Friendship and Alliance of a Prince, are Neighbours, and Persons of Power and Interest. For if they be either weak or remote, what Assistance are they in any Capacity of giving? The only Circumstance that can render such necessary, and engage us in their Interests, is, the being attacked by a powerful Enemy, so as that by ruining Them, he gains an Opportunity to destroy Us; and so the succouring Them, is the preserving Ourselves. In such a Case, let the Ally be otherwise never so unworthy our regard, we ought to join Forces and defend him with our utmost Might. And, if the doing this openly may be a means of involving us in danger, than there must be a good Understanding and Assistance given underhand; for it is a Masterpiece in Politics, to manage a Confederacy with one Prince bare-saced, and in the Eye of all the World; and to be well with another all the while, by an Agreement behind the Curtain, and unsuspected. But still my meaning is, that such Secrecy should be free from all Treachery, and Baseness, and soul Dealing: For Wickedness and Falsehood are never allowable; but Prudence and good Management are highly to be commended; tho' even These, when they run into Intrigue and Doubling, are more especially to be reserved for acting the Defensive part, and securing the Government from some imminent Danger; Cases that admit a much greater Latitude than acting Offensively, and where there is no urgent Necessity, will bear one out in.  
But it ought to be farther observed, that there are several Sorts and Degrees of Alliance. The lowest and most simple of all, is That which extends only to an Agreement for mutual Trading and Commerce between the Countries concerned; but the more usual kind is that which obliges to Friendship, and reciprocal Kindness; and this is either Defensive only; or else Offensive and Defensive both: And that again, by a League either limited, and with an Exception of some particular Princes and States reserved out of the Treaty; or else general, and without any Restraint or Exception at all. The closest and most perfect Confederacy is that which is Offensive and Desensive, for and against all Persons whatsoever; this is an Engagement to succour and be a Friend to all Their Friends; and to oppose and be an Enemy to all Their Enemies. And this Agreement is of great Convenience to be made with Princes of Power and great Influence, and upon an equal Foot; so that each side engage upon the same Terms. Again, Alliances may differ in Point of Time; Some are prescribed and limited to a certain Term; Others are perpetual. The more common way is to make them without any fixed Term mentioned in the Treaty, and these are called Perpetual: But the better and safer Course is to limit it to a number of Years expressly. Because then the Renewal gives liberty for second Thoughts. Some Articles may be added, and other; left out. In a Word, Any alterations may then be made, as the Circumstances or Inclinations of the Parties happen to vary: Or if occasion be, either of them is freely and entirely at his own Disposal, to break off, and be absolutely disengaged for the future. Nay, tho' the Condition of these Treaties, and the Princes concerned in them, be such as one would wish to perpetuate them; yet even thus it is more convenient to repeat the Engagements, and enter into fresh Covenants upon fresh Consideration, than to enter into a perpetual League at once. (Provided always, that in such Cases the Treaty be concluded, and all made fast again, before the utter Expiration of the former Term.) For all Compacts of this kind naturally languish and cool in process of Time; and He that finds it for his Convenience to be off, will be more apt to violate his Faith, if the Alliance be perpetual, and give him no prospect of Redress; than if it be limited, and so he can see to the End of his Grievance. For in this Case he will be render of his Honour, and wait with Patience till he be absolved of Course, and can come off without any Blemish. And thus you have seen what those Seven Heads are, which I thought necessary for the Provisionary part of Civil Prudence.   

CHAP. III. The Second Part of Policy, or Prudence in Government, which consists in the Administration and good Conduct of the Prince.  
HAving thus insisted at large upon the Provision a Prince ought to make, and instructed him, what Ornaments and Furniture, what Defence and what Securities, (if I may so term them) are necessary for the Honour and Safety of his Person and his Government; and not only so, but likewise what Courses are proper to be taken for the acquiring and furnishing out such Suplies: Let us now proceed to Action, and observe, after what manner these things ought to be made use of, and employed to be best Advantage. But, before we come to treat of this Matter distinctly, and with reference to the several Branches of the former Division respectively, we may venture to say in general, That This whole Matter consists in governing well; and again, That a good Administration with regard both to the Welfare and Obedience of the Subject, and the Security of the Prince, will depend chief upon such a sort of Conduct as shall acquire him Two things, hearty  I mean, and Authority. The Former is That Affectionate Concern and Kindness which Subjects should retain for their Sovereign and his Government. The Latter is a good and great Opinion, an honourable Esteem of Him and his Government. With respect to the Former of These it is, that a Prince is beloved, and by virtue of the Latter he is feared and stood in awe of. Now These two Affections of Love and Fear, tho' they be very distant, yet are they by no means contrary to, or destructive of one another; and consequently neither are those Regards so, which in the present Case flow from, and are the Result of those Passions. Both of them are likewise of general Extent in the Matter before us; and both Subjects and Strangers are concerned in each. Tho' indeed, if we look strictly into the Thing, and speak more properly, the  seems to be the Quality of Subjects, and the Authority that which hath the Principal Influence upon Strangers. And accordingly Tacitus distinguishes them, when he advises Persons in this Eminent Post, to order Matters so, 
* Amorem apud Populares, Metum apud Hostes quaerat.  that their own Countrymen may be sure to love, and Foreigners and Enemies may be sure to fear them. And if we would deliver our Judgement freely and fully upon the Matter, though both are of great Efficacy, yet it must be acknowledged, that Authority is the stronger and more vigorous Principle of the Two; the more Venerable and of longer Continuance. But, when there is a just Temper, and exact Harmony of both together, this Matter is then brought to its utmost Perfection. A thing not always practicable, because the different Constitutions of Government, and yet more different Humours and Dispositions of People, according to their several Climates, or Countries, or Complexions make a mighty Difference in the acquiring these; and incline Some to the One of those Afflictions of the Mind, and Others to the other. So that some are easily brought to Love, and are scarce susceptible of Fear; Others as easily awed into Respect, but not without infinite Difficulty to be won over to Kindness and Love for their Prince. What Methods are most Proper and Advisable for the acquiring both these Advantages, we have already been informed; for the several Heads of Provision so largely explained, are but so many Means for the compassing this End: though of Them the most effectual and insinuating seem to be Those comprehnded under the Heads, which touch upon the Virtues, and the Manners or Deportment of a Prince. But however, it may not be amiss, now we are fallen upon the Matter more directly, to say one Word or two more with regard to each of these powerful Advantages expressly.  
This  and Hearty Affection is of infinite and excellent Use; 
Good Will acquired by Gentleness.  it is in a manner absolutely necessary; in so much, that This by its own single Strength is able to do a great deal, and gives amighty Security; but all the rest without this is very seeble and unsafe. The Methods of obtaining it are principally Three. First, Moderation and Gentleness; not in Words, and Actions, soft Language, and courteous Behaviour only, but also in the very Temper of the Commands issued out, and the whole Administration. For the generality of Mankind are of such a Disposition, as will neither endure to have their Hands tied behind them, nor absolutely lose, and at their own disposal. 
* Nec totam servitutem pati, nec totam libertatem.  They are impatient (says Tacitus) of an Arbitrary Yoke, and perfect Slavery, and yet at the same time every whit as unable to bear perfect and uncontrolled Liberty. They make a shift to obey well enough, and are contended to live in the Qualty of Subjects; but the Chains and Captivity of Slaves they can never away with; and therefore he says of them, that they are tamed and 
† Domiti ut pareant, non serviant.  subdued not to serve, but to obey. And the very Truth is 
⁂ Remissius imperanti melius paretur. Qui vult amari, languidà regnet manu.  Every Man finds himself more inclined to comply with a Superior who uses his Power tenderly; And the greater the Command, the readier and more hearty is commonly the Observance paid to it. He that will be well carried must take care not to ride with too stiff a Rein. Caesar, who was very expert, and a perfect Master in Matters of this kind, used to say, that Power, when moderately exercised, kept all safe and tied; but when a Man once came to let himself lose, and commanded things without any regard to the Reasonableness or the Decency; when he was set upon making himself absolute, and resolved to be obeyed Right or Wrong; such a One could never be beloved by his Subjects, nor did he sit fast in his Throne. In the mean while, give me leave to add, that by this Gentleness and Moderation, I do not mean such a tame and easy, Negligent and Effeminate Softness, as lets the Reins of Government perfectly lose; For This will expose a Prince to Reproach and Contempt, and degenerate into an Extreme, Ten thousand times worse than that of Fear. In all these Cases therefore a Commander must observe, how far he can go Decently, 
* Sed incorrupto Ducis honore. Tacit.  and what Indulgences are consistent with his Honour. And the proper Province as well as the Excellence and Commendation of Prudence in Matters of this Nature will be, to make so just a Mixture of Justice and Gentleness, that a Prince may neither seek to be Feared by methods of Rigour and Extremity, and rendering himself a public Terror to the World; nor study to ingratiate himself, and become Popular and Beloved, by Methods so mean and unworthy, as should make him Despicable, and a Jest and Scorn of the World.  
The Second Expedient, which I think advisable for gaining the Affections of the World, 
Beneficence.  is Beneficence: I mean so general and unbounded a Disposition to do Good, as shall by no means be confined to those of the first Quality, or near the Prince's Person; but shed itself all over, upon all Sorts and Conditions of Men, that even the lowest and most distant, the meanest of the People, may taste and rejoice in it. One excellent way of doing this, is by good Management, and provident Care; contriving sufficient Provisions and setting moderate Prices upon Commodities; seeing that the Markets be well furnished, and Corn and other Necessaries for the support of Life, sold at reasonable Rates; that if it be possible, there may always be Plenty, and whatever Nature cannot subsist without, may be cheap; for nothing is so snesible a Grievance as Scarcity, and extravagant Rates; and the Blame of all will be sure to be laid at the governor's Door. The Common People have no other Notion of public Good, but what they are sustained by; nor can you make them believe that any other, either Duty or Benefit, is incumbent upon, or to be expected from those that sit at Helm, comparable to That of seeding the Subject; as if Socity and Government were instituted for no other Purpose, than to see that the vulgar, and poorer sort of Men should never want a full Belly. 
* Vulgo una ex Republicà Annonae cura.  And accordingly Tacitus hath observed, That the only Motive which can fasten their Affections to the State is the Convenience of being maintained at the public Care.  
The Third Attractive of People's Affections is Liberality, which is in Truth a more particular Sort of Beneficence; 
Liberality.  This is a Bait, nay, a Charm rather; for it does not only allure and invite, but draws, bewitches, captivates men's Hearts, almost whether they will or no. So Pleasant and Sweet it is to be on the Receiving, so Honourable and Winning to be on the Giving Hand: Insomuch that a very wise Man laid it down for a Maxim, That a Government is better secured by Kindness, and Obligations, than by Strength and Force of Arms. This is an Expedition useful at all Times, but more especially so, at the first entrance upon Government; when there hath been either some late Succession, or some new Establishment. What Persons are the Proper Objects of this Liberality, in what Proportions it ought to be extended, and what Address ought to be observed in the manner of giving, are Particulars, which have been largely examined and resolved already. I only add, that Augustus hath given us in his own Person, an eminent Instance, both of the Practice of these Methods for attaining the Love and Esteem of Mankind, and of the Success of such Measures 
† Qui militem donis, populum annona, cunctos dulcedine otii pellexit.  For he (says Tacitus) won upon the Army by Largesses; the Common People by Plenty of Corn; and all Degrees of Men by the Sweets of Rest and Universal Peace.  
Authority is the other Pillar, that supports any Government; for, 
⁂ Majestas Imperii Salutis Tutela.  The Majesty of the Royal Character is its Safety and Defence. This is that impregnable Fort, 
Authority.  that keeps the lower and naked World in Aw; by Virtue whereof the Prince can demand, and force Satisfaction, form any who shall presume to contemn his Orders, or behave themselves insolently to him. Upon the Account of This it is, that the Discontents of People end in Murmurs, that the enraged Mobile dares not storm the Palace, but all desire to be in good Grace with their Great Master. Now, this Authority is a compounded thing, and the Two Ingredients that make it up, are Fear and Respect. By These two the Prince and his Government become formidable, spread a sort of Awe upon all who behold and consider them, and are secured from Attempts by this Protection. Now, to the acquitting this Authority, besides that all the Heads of Provision insisted upon in the last Chapter must concur, there are Three other Things absolutely necessary to be observed, in the Admistration, and manner of Governing it iself.  
The First of These is Severity; which, commonly speaking, 
Severity.  is much more for the Safety, and Advantage of a Governor, and a better and more durable Defence from Enemies and Dangers, than Easiness and Clemency; because these are so very seldom tempered with Discretion; and a great Softness and Gentleness of Disposition is exceeding apt to degenerate, and, as was hinted before, to produce very mischievous Effects. Of This several good Accounts may be given; As First, the Natural Humour of the People, which, as Aristotle very truly observed, is not cast in so good a Mould, as to be tractable; nor will they be contained in their Duty by any Principles so generous, as Love or Shame; nothing less, nothing better will do it than Force and Fear, Extremity, and a Dread at least of Punishment. A Second Reason is the General Corruption of Manners, and that Extravagance and Debauchery, which like a Contagious Distemper, haveth tainted and overspread all the World; and this by being general, takes Courage, grows Insolent and Presumptuous; and is so far from any possibility of being reformed by fair Means, that such Gentleness only inflames the Disease, and makes Vice more Bold and Triumphant. It begets Contempt of Superiors, and strengthens the Wicked with Hopes of Impunity, which is the Plague and Bane of all Law, and all Government. For as Ciccro says 
* Illecebra peccandi maxima spes impunitatis.  The most Pewerful Temptation to offend arises from the Hope of Impunity. And most certain it is, that Rigour upon particular Notorious Offenders, is the greatest Mercy that can possibly be shown to the Public, and the whole Body of Subjects in general. There is sometimes a necessity of making signal and solemn Examples, thus at the Expense of private Sufferings to teach other People Wisdom, and to prevent the exorbitant Growth of Villainy by cutting it short betimes. The Body Politic is in this Respect subject to the same Dangers, and must submit to the same Methods of Cure, with our Natural Body; where a Finger is many times taken off out of a mere Principle of Tenderness; that by this seeming Barbarity, a Mortification may be prevented from seizing the whole Arm first, and then the Vitals. And thus that King of Thrace made no ill Answer, to one that reproached him, with playing the Part, not of a King, but a Madman; Ay, Sir, says he, but this Madness of mine keeps my Subjects in their Senses; and they grow Wiser by that which you think my Folly. Severity keeps Officers and Magistrates strictly to their Duty, and promotes a faithful Execution of their respective Trusts; it discountenances Flatterers, and turns Parasites out of Doors; the Wicked and Dissolute, the impudent Beggars, and little Tyrants of the Court are not able to stand before it. Whereas on the contrary, Easiness and Excessive Mildness of Temper opens the Gate Wide, and admits all these infamous Wretches; by whose Importunity and Unreasonableness the public Treasures are exhausted, and squandered away; All manner of Vice is encouraged, The Kingdom is impoverished; all which, and a great many other Miseries, like Colds and Catarrhs, in a Rheumatic and distempered Body, break the Constitution; and fall and settle like the Humours, upon the weakest Parts. The Good-Nature of Pertinax, and the Licentiousness of Heliogabalus had like to have lost All, and were very near ruining the Roman Empire; and then the strict Discipline of Severus first, and afterwards of Alexander restored, and made all whole again.  
But still Extremes must be avoided; and the Severity I recommended should be exercised with prudent Reserve, and just Distinction: It must not be a thing of constant practice, but now and then, upon justifiable and important Occasions; and when it may be seasonable and effectual. For the End of this Dispensation must always direct the Use of the Means; and the Design of all Rigour in the Admiministration of Justice is plainly This, 
* Ut poena ad paucos, metus ad omnes.  That the Sufferings of a few, may work Terror and Amendment in the rest, Thus the Almighty Lawgiver himself, renders an account of several exemplary and capital Punishments among the Israelites; 
Deut. xxi.  That all Israel may hear, and fear, and do no more wickedly. Now, such Executions, when grown daily and familiar, lose their Efficacy; and therefore that ancient Author was certainly in the Right, who affirmed, that some few public Examples contribute more to the Reformation of the People, than frequent Punishments, which come thick upon one another can possibly do. The Reason of which is, that the more Surprising and New any Impressions of this kind are, the more Strong, and Terrible and Awakening they are. But then all this is to be understood of common Cases; for if Vice gather Strength, if the Proselytes and Practisers of it grow Numerous, and Resolute, and Bold, In such a Case Compassion is the greatest Cruelty, Fire and Sword are then the only Remedies, and it is necessary to go through with the Cure. And whatever Imputations of a Bloody and Barbarous Temper may in such Circumstances be cast upon a Prince, they are but the Effects of Ignorance and Unjust Censure; for here again it is in the State, as in these private Bodies of ours, where the 
† Crudelem Medicum, intemperans aeger facit.  Extremity of a Disease and the ungovernableness of the Patient, forces the Physician to be cruel; and he would betray his Skill, and be false to his Profession, should he relent, and be otherwise.  
The Second Expedient for establishing and preserving a Prince's Authority, 
Constancy.  is Constancy. A Firmness, and Resolved Temper of Mind, by which he keeps to his own Methods, treads the same Steps, and without any Fickleness or wanton Love of change, advances still on, gets Ground upon his Subjects; and enforces a due Observance of established Laws, and ancient Customs. To be continually Altering and Reviewing, Abolishing Old, and Enacting New, besides, that it argues a weak and unsettled Mind, which never knows when things are well, nor where to fix; it does unavoidably lessen a Prince in the Eye of the World, and derive a very mean Opinion, both upon his Person, and his Laws; nay, it exposes both to public Scorn and Contempt. Upon This Account wise Men have ever showed themselves averse to Change, and that to such a Degree, as to dissuade and forbid Alterations in Laws and received Customs, even though they were to be changed for the better. For (besides the Uncertainty and the Danger of such Courses, and that we know the worst of what is practised now, but cannot foresee the Consequences of what was never yet tried;) Take the Matter abstractedly and by itself, and it is certain, that Alteration of an old Law is always more inconvenient, and does greater Mischief, than the Novelty of a thing introduced in its Room can posibly do Good. Upon this Account (as I have intimated in a former Part of this Treatise) Busy Fellows and Reformers have all along been looked upon as very suspicious and dangerous People, and by all means to be discountenanced. And in truth nothing less than either evidence or absolute necessity; or else as evident and very considerable Advantage to the Public; and This a certain, and not merely a possible, or likely Consequence of the Change can ever be Argument Strong and Substantial enough, for breaking in upon ancient Constitutions, and altering the Measures of any Government. And when such cogent Motives as these are offered to persuade it, yet even then there is mighty Caution and Diligence to be used; the Proceed ought to be exceeding well advised; every Step taken warily and with Deliberation. All must not be done at a Push; but the Old laid aside with decency and by degrees, and the New introduced as gently and insensibly, as is possible. For in this above any other conjuncture of Affairs is that Proverb of 
* Leniter & lente.  Fair and Softly a necessary Rule in Politics.  
The Third Expedient for this purpose is to steer this Vessel himself, and not trust the Helmof Government in any other Hand. My Meaning is, that the Honour and Power of issuing out Orders, and giving Commands, should be reserved to the Prince in Person; and no other act as Superintendent under him; That he should give the last Determinations, and his Will be the Direction, without referring all to his Counsel, and suffering Them to act and order, as they think fit. For this will draw the Eyes, and the Respects of all his Subjects, and make them sensible, that all depends upon his Disposal and good Pleasure. The Sovereign, who gives away, tho' it be never so little of his Authority, is in Danger of losing All; and will quickly grow insignificant and despicable. For this Reason a Prudent King will be sure never to raise any Subject too high, or make him extravagantly Great, or Wealthy above the Rest. 
† Communis custodia Principatûs, neminem unum magnum facere.  The common Safeguard of the Government and Royal State, is to take Care, that no one Subject be made too big by the Favour of his Prince, says Aristotle. And if it happen that he find such a one already made to his Hands, it is a Maxim in Politics, to lessen and lower him: But then that must be done slily and smoothly, by some Stratagem not easily seen through, and in the most gentle, inoffensive, insensible Way that can be. Another Rule is, not to give Places of great Dignity and Importance, for Life; much less suffer them to be hereditary and descend in the same Family; nay, it is dangerous indeed to continue These for any long Term of Years, lest Men by this Means should strengthen their Party, and at last become a Match for their Master. And whoever shall consult Histories, both Ancient and Modern, and there examine the Causes of Powerful Factions, and the most surprising and fatal Revolutions of States and Empires, will find the greatest part of them owing to the Exorbitant Riches and Power of some overgrown Subject; or the Influence and Interest of some old and important Officer: So that Seneca had good Reason to say, 
* Nil tam utile, quam brevem potestatem esse, quae magna sit.  Nothing is so convenient and advantageous to the State, as the frequent Change of high Offices; no Trust, no Power, which is Great, aught to be continued long in the same Hand.  
These are fair, 
Against Tyranny.  and honest Means, agreeable to Justice, becoming the Character of a Prince, and fit for him to use for the acquiring and supporting himself, bothin the Good Affections of the World, and in a Venerable Authority with them. Upon these Terms he may be loved and seared both; and so it is necessary he should be. For though a convenient Mixture of these Two be desirable and excellent; yet either of them singly, and destitute of the other, is neither Reasonable in its self, nor any Security to the Government. Upon which Account it is, that we detest and abhor a Tyrannical Authority, a Fear absolutely repugnant to, and destructive of Affection and Love, such as reners the Person an Object of all Men's Hatred at the same time. 
† Oderint dum metuant.  Let them hate me, so they fear me, is a brutish and savage Declaration; no one that is really a Man, would be content with Power and Greatness at that Rate; and this Authority, if it be sit to allow it so honourable a Name, is such as Barbarous, and Arbitrary, and Wicked Men procure to themselves; not by the Exercise, but by the Abuse of their Power. The Qualities and Character of a good Prince and a Tyrant, have no manner of Resemblance to one another. The Distance is so vast, the Disparity so notorious, that it is scarce possible for a Man not to distinguish between them. In short, they all turn at last upon these Two Points; One is, The observing the Laws of God and Nature, with a Religious Strictness, or the trampling both under Foot, with the greatest Insolence and Contempt. The other, making the public Good and true Interest of one's Subjects the End and Measure of all one's Actions; or the making every Thing truckle to his own Will, and by every Action and Design serving and aiming at nothing else, but private Profit and Pleasure. Now the Prince, who will answer his Character, and be what so glorious a Station requires, must constantly remember, that as it is the peculiar Happiness and Prerogative of Power to do whatever he hath a Mind to: So it is also the true Prerogative of the Will, and the most certain Mark of real Greatness, to have a Mind to such things only as are Just, and Lawful, and becoming. 
* Caesari cum omnia licent, propter hoc minus licet. Ut foelicitatis est, posse quantum velis: Sic magnitudinis, velle quantum possis; vel potius quantum debeas.  Caesar (says Pliny) hath less in his Power than Common Men, upon this very account, that every thing is in his Power. For as it is a Happiness to be able to do what you please, so it is true Greatness to will only such things as you can do; or rather, indeed, to desire and will no more than you ought to do; for in strict speaking, a Man can do no more than lawfully hemay do. The greatest Misfortune that any Prince is capable of, is the being possessed with an Opinion, that his Will is his Rule; and that all that is possible, is lawful for him. As soon as ever he hath given way to this vile Imagination, his whole Temper and Manners presently grow corrupt, and from a good Man he is transformed into a wicked Wretch, and a Monster. Now this Opinion commonly insinuates itself by Sycophants and Parasites: Flattery infuses and blows it up; for Persons of that Dignity never want enough and too many, to preach up to them the Greatness of their Power, because this is a pleasing Doctrine, and tickles the Ear; but the Obligations of Duty carry a harsh and grating Sound; and there are few, but very few Servants so hardy in their Fidelity, as to entertain their Master upon this necessary Subject. But of all sorts of Flattery. That is the most dangerous, when a Man flatters Himself. In other Cases, a Man may stop his Ears against the treacherous Insinuation; he may enjoin Silence, forbidden all Discourse of that kind, avoid the Presence and Company of the nauseous Wretches that use and hope to ingratiate themselves by it: But when the Person who gives, and he who receives the Flattery, are one and the same, What shall he do, or whether shall he run from such destructive Conversation? And therefore a Prince above all other People, is highly concerned to deal honestly by himself; to decline and despise the fulsome and base Soothe of other People, who hope to make their court this way; and especially to be a severe Inquisitor and Judge of his own Actions, and not to cajole himself into Ruin.  
After all that hath been said, (and too much cannot be said against Tyranny and Arbitrary Administration) it is necessary to add, that sometimes such critical Junctures of Affairs will happen, such Intricacies and Perplexities in Public Business, with regard to Time, Person, Places, Occasions, or some accidental Circumstances; that a Prince will be driven to a necessity of doing some things, which at first view may look like Tyranny: As for instance; When the Matter depending before him, is the suppressing of another Tyranny; the Licentiousness, I mean, of a headstrong, hare-brained People, whose ungovernable Fury is the most absolute, most destructive Tyranny in the World; Or when he is to break some close Cabal, or powerful Faction of the Nobility, and Persons of Wealth and Figure in their Country; Or when the public Treasures are reduced and wasted, the King driven to extreme Wants, and knows not where to furnish himself with needful Supplies, and so is compelled for the Relief of the State in its present Exigency, to raise Moneys irregularly, and borrow from the Rich, by such Loans as they are not perfectly contented with. Of these Extremities, and the Methods and Remedies proper for them, I have spoken formerly; and the only design of renewing the mention of them here, is to persuade People to give the best and most favourable Interpretation to Cases of necessity; and not immediately clamour against them, and represent them in their worst and most odious Colours, but make all the Allowances they can bear. Much less ought we to misconstrue Severity upon particular Offenders, or esteem the number of his Guards, or the Strength of his Forts, or the Majesty, and Style-Imperial of his Commands to be Tyranny. For all these things are not only useful in a very high degree, but in some Circumstances indispensably necessary. And such Authoritative Methods in Kings, are much better, and more desirable, than the softest Entreaties, and kindest Caresses of Tyrants.  
And thus I have represented the Two firm Supports of a Prince, and a State; and happy is it for Them, who know how to acquire, and to continue these Advantages to themselves; and by so doing, effectually prevent the Two Contraries, which are the very Murderers and certain Undoers of a Prince and Government, Hatred, I mean, and Contempt: Concerning which I beg the Readers Patience to say one Word, because a brief Consideration of them may be of some Service towards the preventing or defending ourselves from them.  
Hatred then, which is the direct Contrary to Love and , 
Hatrod.  is an obstinate, wicked, perverse Affection of the Mind, whereby the Subjects are violently prejudiced, and bitterly set against the Prince and his Government. This commonly springs either from some Apprehension of future Mischiefs, or from a Desire of revenging some past Injury; or else from a Resentment compounded of both these together. When this Hatred is very rank and fierce, and when it spreads and grows Epidemical, the Danger is extremely great, and the Consequence commonly fatal; and very seldom it is, that a Prince is able to stem, or get over it. 
* Multorum odiis nullae opes possunt resistere. Multae illis manus; Illi una cervix.  No Power (says Tully) is so great as to be a match for a general Hatred; The Multitude have many Hands, and the Prince hath but one Head. This is it they thirst after, This what they want, to put an End to their Rage; and he is but a Man equal in this regard to any one of his Enemies, but exposed to the Attempts of them All. You see then, how important, how necessary it is for a Prince to preserve himself from such a dangerous, such an irresistible Mischief; and the most likely Course that can be taken for this purpose, will be to avoid the two Extremes of Cruelty and Avarice, so directly opposite to that Gentleness and Liberality, which were observed before to be the powerful Instruments, and most powerful Motives to gain the Kindness and good Affection of any People.  
First, he must by all means keep himself clear and untainted from any base and barbarous Cruelty, 
Cruelty.  such as is a Blemish to his Character, scandalous, and abominable, and unbecoming his Grandeur: On the other Hand, let his Mind be strongly armed by Clemency, the Reasons and Necessity whereof have been shown already, when we treated of the Virtues more peculiar to a Prince. But still, in regard Public Punishments are necessary and unavoidable; and these, even when most just, even when most necessary, carry some face and appearance of Cruelty, it concerns a Governor to carry himself very prudently in the management of this Matter; and perhaps there are not many Cases which require more Dexterity and Address. And therefore I will presume to venture at a little particular Advice upon this Occasion. As first, Let him by no means be too eager and hasty in laying his Hand upon the Sword of Justice; but show, that he draws it merely in his own Defence; and by his slowness to be provoked, and loathness to revenge, convince the World, that what he does of this kind, is the effect of mere Necessity, and sore against his Inclination. 
† Libenter damnat, qui cito: ergo illi parsimonia etiam vilissimi Sanguinis.  He that passes Sentence speedily, does it willingly, and with a Glee; whereas there is a Tenderness due, and a King ought to be very saving even of the worst and vilest Blood. Secondly, Let the Principle upon which he proceeds, be the Prospect of the Public Good; and let the making their Faults exemplary, and preventing the spreading and growth of it in others, and a Relapse of the Sufferer himself, be the Motives of Punishment, rather than any thirst of Vengeance, or a desire to torment the guilty Person. Thirdly, Whatever of this kind is necessary to be done, let it be put in execution with all possible Calmness and Temper. A King should be like his Laws, cool and sedare, void of all manner of Passion; and therefore Anger, and Joy, and any other Emotion of the Soul is highly unbeseeming; but if any Passion may be allowed, That of Pity is the only one, that can show itself with a good Grace upon these Occasions. Fourthly, Let the Execution be only what is usual, and according to the Laws and Customs of the Country in such Cases; for the aggravating of the Pain, and inventing new and more exquisite Methods of Torment, are so many certain Marks of a cruel and remorseless Mind. Fifthly, Let not the Prince have any hand in inflicting the Punishment, nor so much as be present at the Execution; for this looks like insulling, and taking satisfaction in the Sufferings of the Criminal. Lastly, if there be a necessity of Punishing a great many, let it be done with all convenient speed, upon all together, that it may be over and forgotten, as soon as possible. For the prolonging their Execution, and repeating these Tragical Sights One by One, looks as if a Man played the Epicure in Blood. For we naturally contrive, that those things may be lengthened out, or often renewed to us, which give us Entertainment and Delight. And every Body hastens to make an End of That, which is disagreeable, and raises his Aversion.  
The next thing which he ought to keep himself free from, 
Avarice.  is Avarice, than which no Vice whatsoever can possibly be more misbecoming a great Man Now this may discover itself two Ways; either in Extortion, and exacting more than is fit; or in Niggardliness, and in giving less than is fit. The former of These will be sure to disgust the Common People, who are all of them naturally covetous, and esteem their Pocket the tenderest Part; for Money is their Blood, their Life, their very Soul. And therefore nothing gives them so sensible an Affliction, or raises their Indignation, like the Exactions that rob them of it. The Second discontents all that have served the State, who have any Pretensions to Merit, and have spent their Time and Pains, their Strength and Blood, upon the Public, and therefore think some proportionable Gratuity their due. Now we have already taken Occasion in the last Chapter, to discourse the matter of the Public Treasure at large, how the Prince ought to manage himself in this whole Point; what Methods are proper for the raising of Funds; what Taxes fit to be imposed, for the putting his Exchequer into Stock; what Prudence is requisite in the laying out such Moneys; and what Frugality necessary for the reserving a convenient Supply for extraordinary Exigencies. And therefore all I shall need to add here, is only thus much, That the Prince ought very diligently to beware of Three Things. The First, That he bear no manner of Resemblance to those Tyrannical and Extravagant Impositions, the insupportable Burden whereof have rather made the Leviers of them Devourers of their Country, and common Plunderers, than Fathers and Defenders of it. Such as God describes by the Mouth of his Psalmist, 
Psalm liii.  that 
⁂ Qui devorant Plebem sicut escam panis; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, quorum aerarium spoliarium Civium, cruentarumque praedarum receptaculum.  Eat up the People as they would eat Bread; Woose Treasuries are enriched with the Spoils of their Subjects, and made the common Receptacle of Blood and Rapine. For these Oppressions weary out all Patience, and provoke Tumults and Insurrections; as infinite Examples of Revenge, and Sedition, and other desperate Calamities prove to us. The Second Thing to be declined, is Sordidness, and that first in the gathering part; (
* Indignum lucrum ex omni occasione odorari; & ut dicitur, etiam à mortuis auferre.  Following the Scent of Gain every where, and balking no occasion, tho' never so vile and unbeseeming his Character; or as the common Proverb says, Robbing the very Spittle) for which reason it will be highly advisable in him, to be very sparing in taking the Advantage of Accusations and Attainders, Confiscations and Forfeitures, and other Spoils, which have an Air of Hardship, even when they are clear of Injustice. The other Branch of Sordidness is in being close-handed, giving nothing, or giving in little and sneaking Proportions; making his Favours mercenary, or being slow and difficult in granting; so that whatever is obtained shall be dear bought, by importunate Requests, and long Attendance; and is not so properly the effect of Generosity, or a Sense of Merit in the Receiver, as extorted by dunning, and wrested out of his Hands by tiring and vanquishing his Patience. The Third is, Methods of Violence, and unreasonable Exaction in the levying of Taxes; when the manner of bringing it in, looks more like foraging, or going to plunder an Enemy, than to make a Demand upon a Subject. This Caution, I confess, is chief aimed at the Insolence of Collectors and Receivers, who by their base Extortions, and grinding the Faces of the Poor, expose the Prince to Hatred and Disrepute, and breed angry Resentments, and ill Blood in the People. For his Honour suffers for the Misdemeanours of his Under-Officers. These Monsters of Foxes and Wolves, who as one describes them, have Six Hands, and Three Heads apiece. And, as in other Matters, so particularly in that of making Seizures, are barbarous and remorseless; especially such Goods as are Necessaries of a Man's Life, the Tools of his Trade, or Instruments of Husbandry; a Method to be declined in common Prudence, as exceeding odious, and what nothing less than Extremity, or very just Provocation ought to put them upon. It is therefore of mighty consequence to a Prince, what sort of People are employed in these Offices; for it is highly requisite they should be Men both of Integrity and Prudence: Nor is it less Necessary for his Honour, to turn them out with Disgrace when they misbehave themselves: A severe exemplary Punishment, a swinging Fine, to make them disgorge all their ill-gotten Gains, is what he owes to himself, and his own Defence: For these State-Sponges should be used accordingly, and squeezed in their Turn too, till they have given back every Drop of that Blood and Sweat, which they most mercilessly sucked up, by draining and squeezing the poor Country People before.  
Let us now proceed to consider that other, and, if it be possible, still worse Enemy of a Prince and his Government, 
Contempt.  which is Contempt, arising from an ill and mean Opinion both of the One and the Other. What is it that can possibly support one single Man, and that sometimes one of great Years and Infirmities, in a Station so much above many Millions of his Brethren, except it be Authority, and a high Esteem? When once This is lost, and sinks into Contempt, all the rest is lost with it, and both Prince and Government fall to the Ground. And therefore, as in this respect, according to what was urged before, Authority is of greater Strength and Efficacy, and carries more Pomp and Majesty with it, than the good Affection of a People; so likewise Contempt is more dangerous and formidable, than even Hatred itself. For Hatred is Modest and Timorous, it is restrained by Fear, and dares attempt nothing, till Contempt let it lose; but this shakes off that Yoke, animates and arms it for the most desperate Undertake. It is true indeed, Contempt seldom rises very high, especially under the Government of a Rightful Prince, unless he be perfectly insignificant, and degrade and prostitute himself and his Honour to that degree, as only to be 
* Ut videatur exire de imperio.  a King of Clouts. But still, since there is a possibility of its happening, we shall do well to observe what are the Occasions most likely to produce it. Now This, as it is in its own Nature the very Reverse to Authority, so does it derive itself from Causes directly contrary to Those, by virtue whereof a Prince's Authority is procured and preserved: As for Instance, those Three that follow.  
First, as to his manner of Government; a lose, effeminate softness, supineness, and negligence in Business; a tame, heedless, unthinking Temper; or else Fickleness in his Resolution, and perpetual Change and Uncertainty in his Opinions and Methods: For when there is no Attention, no Steadiness, no Spirit or Vigour, this is the mere empty Name of a Government, without the Thing. Subjects under such Princes grow insolent, and bold, and encroaching: They think they may do what they will, and that He will never regard, or reckon with them for it: 
† Malum, principem habere, sub quo nihil ulli licet; pejus, eum, sub quo omnia omnibus.  It is a great Calamity to have a Prince, under whom no Man enjoys any Liberty at all; but it is still greater to have one, under whom none are subject to any Check or Restraint at all.  
Secondly, This is frequently the Effect of his Misfortunes, either with regard to his Affairs when they succeed ill; Or in respect of his Family, when there is no certain prospect of Succession, either of his own Issue, or else by a fixed Settlement; for Children are a mighty strengthening to a Prince's Interest; and the not knowing what will become of the Crown when the present Possessor fails, is such a Diminution and Unhappiness, that we find even Alexander himself, in the midst of Glory and Conquest, complaining bitterly of it; 
⁂ Orbitas mea, quod sine liberis sum, spernitur. Munimen Aulae Regii Liberi.  My want of Heirs, says he, is despised, because I have no Children to succeed Me. For the Children of a Prince are the Honour and the Strength of the Court.  
Thirdly, Princes often draw Contempt upon themselves by their Manners, and way of Living, particularly, if they be dissolute and debauched, sensual and effeminate; Slaves to Vice, and abandoned to Luxury and Pleasure; especially to Sottishness, and Drinking, and Gluttony, the lowest and most despicable of all Pleasures: Also their Behaviour exposes them to it, if this be churlish and morose; their Discourse, when childish and impertinent; their Persons, when nauscous and notoriously deformed.  
And thus we are got to the End of what I thought convenient to be premised, with relation to the Active part, or Administration of a Prince in general. We proceed now to handle it more distinctly and particularly. But in order hereunto, it must be remembered, that this (as was observed in the beginning of this Chapter) consists of Two parts, the One Civil, or that which concerns a State of Peace and public Tranquillity. The Other Military, and proper for a State of War: For by the former I understand the common and ordinary Methods of Government, which are of constant and daily use, whether in a time of Peace or War. By the Latter I mean those Methods which are proper to Martial Discipline, and the practice whereof is peculiar to the Time of War only.  
The peaceful and ordinary Administration of a Government is a Province of such vast Comprehension, 
The Peaceable Administration.  and the Accidents and Occurrences of it so various and unforeseen, that it is impossible to reduce it to any general Rules. And besides, The Prudence of it consists oftentimes as much in forbearing to act, as at other times in acting. But however, I will venture to lay down here some few Heads of Advice, which are necessary to be considered, and may be of some Advantage perhaps, when the Duties they prescribe are observed duly, and improved, by applying the Substance of those general Intimations to particular Actions and Circumstances. First then, the Prince is concerned above all things, to take care, that he be faithfully and diligently informed of all Matters which any way concern him to know. The Matters I mean here may be comprehended under Two Heads; and consequently the Informations themselves, and the Persons made use of in them, are of two different Qualities. And to render those of each sort what they ought to be, these Qualifications are absolutely necessary, and in common to both; Sincerity and Confidence, Secrecy and Prudence. But tho' these be requisite to both kinds, yet they are not so to both equally: For the One have occasion for much greater Liberty, and Openness, and Plain-dealing, than the Other. The One of these are the Persons whose business it is to put him in Mind of his Duty, what he is obliged to, and what becomes his Character; and not only so, but to make him duly sensible of his Faults and Failings, and to speak bold Truths to him concerning himself. There are no sort of Men in the World, who stand in so great need of such Friends, as Princes do; For they have no Senses of their own, nor any other Direction, but what is received from seeing with other People's Eyes, and hearing with other People's Ears. They sustain a public Character, and have a World of People to satisfy; so that every Word and Action of Theirs is the Matter of Censure or Commendation, and exposed to the critical Malice of all Mankind. And, as they have in this respect more Humours to please, so are they less capable of doing it than common Men, because they are industriously kept in the Dark; and very little of what concerns them is suffered to come to their Knowledge. And thus for want of better Instruction, they do things which prove inconvenient and disgusting; and so, with all the undesigning Innocence imaginable, expose themselves to the Hatred and Resentments of their Subjects. All which had certainly been prevented, or very easily remedied, had they been fairly and freely dealt with in time. But than it must be said, on the other hand, that they are in some degree destined to this Ignorance, or accountable for it Themselves; because Matters are so ordered, that Frankness of Humour, and Home-truths' by way of Admonition or Reproof, (tho' the best Offices, and surest Marks of Friendship and Affection) are yet seldom well taken; and especially to Princes they are not only unacceptable, but sometimes extremely dangerous to the Person, who hath Courage and Hovesty enough to venture at them. And yet this cannot in reason but appear a very criminal Nicety, and an Argument of great Weakness; when such Persons cannot bear having their Ears grated, and made to glow a little, for their Good: For this Harshness of the Sound is all they can endure; They are above Compulsion or Restraint; and have the whole Management of themselves left still entirely in their own Disposal.  
The Other sort of Informers are such as are employed to bring what we properly call Intelligence; by representing all the considerable Actions and Occurrences, not only within the Compass of his Dominions, and by his own Subjects; but by discovering the Projects and Intrigues of neighbouring Courts: I say of All that is doing at Home or Abroad, wherein either his Own, or his Allies, or Borderer's Government is either immediately, or but remotely concerned. These Two distinct kinds of Correspondents do in some degree answer the Character of those two Friends to Alexander, Hephestion and Craterus. One of which is said to have loved the King, and the other Alexander; That is, One of them was fond of his Person, the Other of his Government; One regarded him in his Private, the Other in his Public Capacity; 
* The Description given of this personal Dearness betwixt Alexander and Hephestion, hath that among other Circumstances mentioned in it. Secretorum omnium arbiter; Libertatis quoque in admonendo non alius jus habebat. Qu. Curt. Lib. III. 12.  but the tenderer Friend dealt most freely with him.  
In the Second place, The Prince should always have by him a private Book of Memorandums, consisting principally of Three Heads. First, An Abridgement of all Matters of Public Concern then depending: That by recourse to This, he may imform himself at one View, what is fit to be done in the present Juncture of Affairs; what Matters are already in Motion, and want to be completed; that so every thing may be attended to in its proper Season, and nothing done out of time, or by halves. The Second is a List of Persons Names, whose Merits may recommend them to his Favour, either upon the Account of past Services, which call for Rewards and Gratifications; or of extraordinary Abilities, which qualify them for Preferments and Places of Trust. The Third, A Memorial of Gifts and Grants already conferred, to whom, and upon what Considerations: For without a distinct and particular account of these Three things, it is scarce possible to avoid the being frequently at a loss, and making a great many false Steps. And accordingly we find, that Princes of the justest Renown, and most celebrated in Story for their Wisdom and Policy, have constantly taken this Method, and felt the Convenience of it; as Augustus and Tiberius, (for instance) Vespasian and Trajan, Adrian, and the Antonines.  
A Third Rule may be This; That in regard One of the most material Parts of the Royal Character consists in distinguishing the deserts of Men, and assigning Rewards and Punishments accordingly; and in consideration, That the One of these is extraordinary graceful, and recommends him to their Affection; The Other naturally disgusting, and what will be sure to draw a great Odium upon the Instrument of it: Therefore the Distribution of Rewards thou'd be reserved to himself. Honours and Estates, Offices and Preferments, Privileges and Pensions, Exemptions and Immunities, Restitutions and Pardons; and, in a word, every thing of Grace and Favour should come immediately from his own Hand: But every thing that is grievous and grating, should be turned over to some other Hand: And therefore inferior Officers are more properly made use of, for pronouncing Sentences of Condemnation, imposing Fines, levying of Forfeitures, making Distresses, and executing all manner of Penalties: For tho' it be true, that all Matters of this Nature depend upon the same Authority, and it is virtually the Prince that does them; yet it is certain from Experience, and the common Sense of Mankind, that This is not so duly considered, but that it leaves a particular Grudge behind, and creates angry Resentments against that very Person, who is the next and immediate Actor, tho' he be in reality never so passive in the thing.  
In the Distribution of Rewards and Gratuities, and other Marks of Favour of the like Nature, this farther Intimation may not be unseasonable. That a Prince, upon such Occasions, should show himself forward and free; he should if it be possible, even prevent the Receiver's Expectations, and give unasked; and not defer the matter so long, till he bring himself under a necessity of denying any Applications made to him for them: He should likewise give in Person, when that can be done conveniently; or order them to be given in his Presence, and with some particular Expressions of his Favour and Esteem. For all these Circumstances are wonderfully engaging; they add to the intrinsic value of the Gift; make it more welcome, and more effectual to all the purposes it can be capable of serving. Besides, that in observing this Method, Two mighty Inconveniences will be avoided, which do really diminish in a great measure, if not quite, defeat absolutely the Acknowledgements due to Persons of Honour and Desert; One is that of a tedious Attendance; the Difficulty and intolerable Expense they are forced to be at, in obtaining the Advantages which are really intended them, and thought to be very justly conferred; and This to Men of Eminence and Spirit, is a great Grievance, and grates very hard. The Other is, That after the Prince hath actually bestowed the Gift, and declared his Pleasure in it, the Forms of the Grant, and the Delays and indirect Deal of the Officers, through whose Hands it must pass, do so inflame the Reckoning, that before a Man can be dispatched, and come into actual Possession of his own, it costs him at least half what the thing is worth; nay, sometimes the full value, or more; and when all Charges come to be computed, he hath the Name only, but receives nothing; or something he had better have been without, than have spent his Interest, and Money, and Time, for that which turns to so very poor Account.  
We come now to that part of the Administration, which is Military: and This every Man easily sees to be necessary for the Defence and support both of Prince and People, and preserving the Order and Honour of any Government. And therefore I shall treat of it with all the Brevity that the Subject will bear. Now, the whole of what is Proper to be said upon it, may be reduced to Three Heads; The engaging in a War at first, the Carrying it on when begun, and the Putting an End to it.  
1. For the engaging in a War, Two Preliminaries are Necessary, 
Of Military Affairs.  Justice and Prudence, and consequently the Two Vices opposite to These by all Means to be avoided, which are Injustice and Rashness. First of all, It is necessary that the War be Just; for Justice ought to march in the Head, and lead Courage on to Actions; as Counsel and Deliberation ought to go before the Execution of the Design. And therefore such Maxims as these, though common in every Body's Mouth, are yet most Wicked and Abominable; That Right is always on the strongest Side; That the Success will determine the Cause; That the longest Sword will carry it. For certainly the Goodness of any Cause is not to be measured by the Event, but by the Equity and the Reasonableness, that is at the Bottom of it. And though War be a Thing of Violence and Force, and the Decisions of it very distant from the Method of determining civil Controversies; yet even War itself is not utterly Lawless, but hath its Rules and Measures to be observed; as well as Peace. Almighty God, who calls himself the Lord of Hosts, and God of Battles, does favour just Wars in a peculiar Manner; it is He, who disposes of Victories, and casts the Scale, as he in his infinite Wisdom sees fit. But it is the Duty of every Prince to qualify himself for that Favour; and, as much as may be, to engage Providence on his Side; and the first of those Qualifications, is the Justice of the Undertaking. To pick Quarrels therefore, and 
* Non ex omni occasione quaerere triumphum.  commence a War upon every Occasion, is what can never be answered. The Itch of Honour and Triumph will bear no Monarch out in it. And therefore such aught to take good Heed, that Ambition, and Avarice, and Passion, be not too busy upon these Occasions; which yet, if a Man may be allowed to speak the Truth freely are, it is to be feared, the great Incendiaries of the World, and generally at the Bottom of such Undertake. 
† Una & ea vetus causa bellandi est profunda cupido Imperii & divitiarum; maximam gloriam in maximo Imperio putant. Rupere foedus impius lucri furor & ira praeceps.  One, and that indeed the unusual and ancient Cause of War is the insatiable Thirst of Riches and Dominion; That Abyss of Avarice and Ambition, which measures the Greatness of a Prince's Glory by the Extent of his Territories, and Enlargement of his Conquest. The Raging Desire of Gain, and the Rash Heat of Anger are the Disturbers of Peace, and Violators of Leagues and Treaties.  
Now, to make a War just, and in all Points what it ought to be, 
A just War, what.  Three Things must concur: The First, That it be denounced, and undertaken, why a Person, who hath the Power of making and proclaiming it; which can only be the Sovereign himself; or in Commonwealths, those who are invested with the Suprme Authority, and whom the Law in that respect looks upon, but as one single Person.  
The Second is, That the Cause, upon which it is so denounced be just; and such without all Dispute, is the Case of a Defensive War; the Light of Reason clearly and constantly pronounced in Favour of such a War in the Judgement of all the Wise and civilised Part of Mankind; and Necessity supplied the Place of Argument and Thought, and moved the Barbarous and Ignorant, to agree in the Justification of it too; Custom hath made this Opinion and Practice universal among Men; and Nature herself hath infused this Principle into Brutes. But then by Defensive, I mean, That which is truly and properly so; when Life, or Liberty, one's Relations, or one's Country are assaulted. Nay, not only so, but a War is really defensive, when begun in behalf of our Confederates and Allies, or to chastise Breach of Faith and former Treatise, or for the Protection and Redress of those that are oppressed Grievously, and injuriously treated. For, it is the great Roman Orator's Judgement, That 
* Qui non defendit, nec obsistit, si potest, injuriae, tam est in Vitio, quam si Parents, aut Patriam, aut Socios deserat. Cic. Lib. I. de Offic.  He who does not defend the Injured, and as much as in him lies, prevent and ward off the Wrong, is as much in Blame as if he deserted Country or Kindred, Parents or Friends. So that Injury itself, without the Addition of any other Motive, is, and aught to be esteemed Engagement Sufficient for the employing our best Endeavours, to right and assist the Persons labouring under it. And accordingly we find St. Ambrose comprehending all these three Kind's of Defence under the Character of Justice. 
† Fortitudo, quae per bella tuetur à Barbaris Patriam; vel defendit infirmos; vel à latronibus Socios, plena Justitiae est.  That Fortitude (says he) is highly Just and Commendable, which by Force of Arms defends our Country from the Invisions of Enemies and Barbarians; or protects the Weak and Suffering, from those that are too mighty for them; or saves our Friends and Allies from Plunder, and Robbers. Another 
⁂ Nullum bellum à Civitate optimà suscipitur, nisi aut pro Fide, aut pro Salute. Sallust.  Author brings the Matter into a narrower Compass still, and reduces it to these two Particulars, of Faith and Safety. No War (says he) is undertaken by a Righteous and Good Government, except either Breach of Covenant, or the Prospect of their own Danger provoke it.  
Offensive War must likewise have Two Conditions to render it justifiable; The One is, that there be really some Offence given, and Damage sustained, upon which the Quarrel can fairly be grounded; as in the Cases of Violence, and Outrage, and Usurpation: The Second That Satisfaction and Restitution be first demanded, in the usual Manner and Solemnities; in which among the Romans a 
* Post Clarigatum. Plin. Nat. Hist. Lib. XXII. Cap. 2.  Herald was the proper Minister: For Force is the last Remedy, and ought never to be made use of, till the rest have been tried to no Purpose. And Justice cannot be duly sought this Way, till it hath been sought in softer and more amicable Methods, and denied. If the Aggressor will hearken to calm Reason, and submit to such Terms as are agreeable to it, there ought to be an End of the Controversy; but if he will be obstinate, and refuse to do this, than indeed War is Just and Allowable, because it becomes necessary, and the only possible Method left for redressing such Grievances, and preserving our own Rights. For 
† Justum Bellum quibus necessarum; pia Arma, quibus null● nisi in armis relinquitur spes.  that is a just War, which cannot be avoided; and those are righteous Arms, which are taken up by Men who have nothing less to trust to.  
The Third necessary Qualification for making a War just, is that it be undertaken for a good End; and such is no other than the Peace and Security of a Nation. 
† Sapientes pacis causà bellum gerunt; & laborem spe otii sustentant; ut in pace sine injurià vivant.  Wise Men (says my Author) wage War for the sake of Peace; and are centent to sustain great Labour and Pains for the Prospect of Ease and Leisure, that so they may live quietly and secure themselves from Wrong.  
After once the Justice of the Cause is taken care of, then and not before, 
Prudence.  it is seasonable to consider of the Prudence of the Undertaking. And this Consideration consists in Mature Deliberation, that a Prince may not run giddily on, and engage in Attempts which have no probable Prospect of Success: And therefore to prevent Heat and Rashness, it will be very convenient that these following Particulars should be very seriously weighed. 

First, the Strength, and Conveniences on both sides; what the Aggressor, and what his Enemy is capable of.  
Secondly, The Hazard and doubtful Chance of Wars the mighty and surprising Revolutions of Humane Affairs; Particularly the unaccountable Events of Engagements and Stratagems, which we see happen daily; and wherein, when the nicest Policy hath done its utmost, Providence hath still the chief Hand, and gives the finishing Struck; For it is obvious to every Man's Observation, that what the World calls Fortune, cannot pretend to so absolute a Dominion in any one Instance, as in the Decisions of the Field. And accordingly we often see, that One Hour there turns the whole Face of Affairs, and exalts or reduces a Prince to the very Reverse of what he was an Hour ago. And therefore Livy hath observed very truly, that 
⁂ Simul parta ac sperata decora unius horae Fortuna evertere potest.  the Glories and Laurels which have been the Acquisition, or the Expectation of a whole Life, are all blasted and withered by the Fortune of a single Hour; and he who thought himself sure of All, and stood actually possessed of a great deal, the next Moment hath not so much as the Hope of any thing lest to sustain him.    
The Third Consideration necessary upon this Occasion is, That of the horrible Grievances and Hardships, the Calamities and Miseries, which War (supposing the very best of the Event and final Determination) does unavoidably draw both upon the Public in general, and private Persons in particular. And these indeed, when duly reflected upon, are such, that the very Thought alone is Dismal and full of Discouragement and Horror.  
A Fourth Reslection will concern the Slanders and Calumnies, the Reproaches and Curses, which are sure to light upon the Authors and first Beginners of any War. For the Misfortunes and Losses, which cannot but happen, will be sure to alienate the Affections, and provoke the Resentments, of those who suffer under them; and they, when thus incensed, will not fail to express those Resentments, in a very plentiful and bitter Manner: For, from what hath been said already, we may easily be convinced, that, nothing lies more exposed to the Tongues and Censures of the World, than War. And whoever is the Immediate Actor of the Mischief, the main Burden will be sure to fall upon the Principla. 
* Iniquissima Bellorum conditio haec est; Prospera omnes sibi vendicant, Adversa uni imputantur.  This, says Tacitus, is the particular Hardship of War, that Men always make an unjust Division of Events; all that succeeds well, every Man arrogates to himself; but all the Miscarriages and Losses, every one Shifts off from himself, and all agree to lay the Load at the Principal Commanders Door only. Those that fail in Execution, blaim them whose Business it is to give Orders; and they who issue Orders, lay the Blame upon Negligence and Failure in the Execution; and, at the last Rebound, the Whole rests upon the Prince himself. Upon all these Accounts the very justest War, as St. Augustine says, is odious and detestable; and a Prince does very ill, and Acts imprudently, when he engages in it, without extremely urgent Necessity. According to that Remark made upon Augustus Caesar: And therefore Kings must not suffer themselves to be won over to it, by those busy Incendiaries that set the World on Fire, and desire to incense their Master with groundless Jealousies, or allure him with imaginary Conquest, merely to gratify some particular Passion of their own. 
* Quibus in Pace durius servitium est; in id nati, ut nec ipsi quiescant, neque alios sinant.  Men, who (as one describes them) think Peace a Burden, and to live at Ease, a perfect Slavery; of such Dispositions, that Nature seems to have cut them out for public Disturbers; for they will neither be quiet themselves, nor content to let other People be so. And yet these very Persons are commonly the most backward and dispirited, when once they come to Action; They talk Big; and take Towns, and beat whole Armies, and entertain themselves and others with the Pleasures and Advantages of a Camp, and the Love they have for Fight; but at last the old Proverb Proves its own Truth, That 
† Dulce bellum inexpertis.  War is pleasant to none, but those who have never tried it. Now, a Wise Prince will take the best Care he can, to keep, and to promote the Peace of his Country; he will not be afraid of War on the one Hand; for this is mean and beneath his Courage; but then he will not provoke, nor draw it upon himself on the other Hand; for That is every whit as much unworthy of his Wisdom, the Effect of Heat and Inconsideration. For how rash, how unreasonable is it, to put his own, or another Government into needless Combustions; to give so many Persons the uneasiness of a long and anxious Suspense between Hope and Fear; and to drive things to that desperate Push, that He must at last, either ruin other People, or be ruined himself?  
The Second Branch of this Military Dispensation, I said, is carrying on the War. 
The Second Head. Carrying on the War.  And for This, Three things are necessary; Provision and Ammunition; Men; and Conduct, or Skill in the Rules of War. The First is Provision of things useful and necessary for the War, and that ought to be done early and in good time. For it would be an intolerable Weakness and Reproach, to put off the Supplies which ought constantly to be in readiness, till the very instant, that our Occasions call for the using of them. He that is to seek then, hath lost himself; for a 
⁂ Diu apparandum est, ut vincas celerius.  Long Preparation is the surest Expedient to procure a speedy Victory. Now, as for the Provisions requisite for the Honour and Safety of a Prince and his Government, in the usual and ordinary State of Affairs, there hath been enough said already, in the former Part of this Chapter; and that belongs entirely to the Matter now before us. The Principal Provisions and Strengthening for War are Three: First, Money; which is the very Life and Spirits, the Nerves and Sinews of War; as hath been already showed at large. Secondly, Arms Offensive and Defensive, which have also been spoken to before: These two are of common Use, and what a Prince should always have plenty of in Reserve. The Third is Victuals; without which an Army can neither conquer, nor sight, nor live; if This be wanting, Engagements are needless, for your Men are cut off without ever a Blow struck; and the Soldiers grow wild and unruly, and cannot possibly be kept under Government. 
* Disciplinam non servat jejunus Exercitus.  A hungry Army observes no Rules; and Men ready to starve cannot be expected to perish in obedience to Discipline. 'Tis true. I mentioned a Provision of Necessaries before; but that which I am now upon is a different thing, and laid in on purpose for this Extraordinary Occasion. One therefore of the earliest and most important Preparations for War, is, upon the first Thoughts or Motions towards any such thing, to see that there be large and convenient Magazines, stored with all manner of Victual, Corn, Salt-Meats, and other proper Sustenance, not only for the Army, which takes the Field, but for the Garrisons upon the Frontiers; so much as may enable them to hold out a Siege, if the Enemy should find it for his purpose to sit down before them, and so intercept any Supplies which should come to them from abroad.  
The Second Thing requisite for carrying on a War, is a Competent Number of Hands, Men fit to make, 
Men.  or to receive an Assault. And here we shall be obliged to distinguish between them. As first of all, between Private Soldiers, or those who are commonly said to carry Arms; and Officers, or Persons in Commission. The Private Soldiers are the Body, the Officers the Head, or Life of the Army; That which inspires and directs every Motion, and by Virtue whereof they act. Now here, we will first of all consider the common Soldiers, who make the Bulk and main Substance of the Army. Of these there be several sorts, some Foot, and others Horse; some Natives, others Foreigners; some the standing proper Force of the Government, others Auxiliary Troops, or such as are levied upon a particular Emergency. We shall do well to take a transient view of every one of these, and bestow the Pains of comparing them a little together; that so we may be satisfied which are best and most eligible: And then we will proceed farther to observe, what Methods are to be made use of for the directing and governing our Choice; and what lastly for the ordering and well-disposing them, when thus levied, and got together.  
Now, the Judgements of Men have been very different in the first Branch of this Comparison. 
Foot.  For some, and especially the Barbarous and Undiciplined Nations are much more for Horle than Foot; but others are generally of the quite contrary Opinion. Indeed it may with great reason be affirmed, that if both are considered simply, and absolutely without any regard to particular Exigences and Qualifications, Foot are much the better of the Two, For they are of Service all along, and run through the whole Course of the War; no place excludes them, no Action is achieved without them. Whereas the Horse are often useless; for in Mountainous and rough Countries, and where the Defiles are very strait, and in the besieging and taking of Towns, they stand a General in very little stead. Foot are also more ready at Hand upon all occasions; they cannot lie far out of Call; and, as their Attendance and Service is more, so the Expense of raising and maintaining them, is considerably less. The Subsistence and Equipage of Horse is extremely Chargeable; and even for That Action, where they are of most Advantage, Flanking and Galling the Enemy in a Battle, if the Foot be well appointed, armed Substantially, and Skilful in their Business, they will stand the Shock, and maintain their Post very well. And accordingly, Those who set up for Masters in this Art, usually give them the Preference. The Horse indeed are of greater use in a pitched Battle, and for making quick Work. 
* Equestrium virium proprium est citò parare, citò cedere victoriam.  For this (says one) is the Quality of Horse, that they soon get, and soon lose the Day. The Foot, it is plain, cannot be so good at dispatch; nor can it be expected they should. But then they make amends another way, and as they are the slower, so they are a great deal the surer of the Two.  
Nor do we find an entire Agreement of Opinions, concerning the next Article; 
Natives.  Whether Natives or Strangers are sittest to be made use of; tho' to me the Odds appear so very great, that I make no manner of difficulty to give it on the Native's side. For certainly, we may expect better Principles, and greater Fidelity from Home-born Subjects, than we can from Strangers, who are Soldiers of Fortune, and only fight for their Pay. They will endure more, be better contented, submit more quietly to Orders, carry themselves with more Respect to their Officers, use more Civility in Quarters, will think their Honour more concerned; and when they come to Action, show more Courage in the Engagement, as they cannot but have a more affectionate and tender Regard to their own Country, for the defence whereof they are engaged. Besides, the Public saves more by them; they cost a great deal less; and are more ready at hand than Auxiliaries from Abroad. For Foreigners are very often mutinous and grumbling; and that sometimes, just when there is occasion to make use of them: They commonly keep a great blustering, but have more of Insolence and Vanity, than of real Service in them: They are generally Troublesome, and a Burden to the Public; cruel and oppressive to poor Country People, and fancy themselves licenced to plunder, as if it were an Enemy's Country, because it is none of their own. Then the Expense of Transporting them backward and forward, the Voyages by Sea, or long Marches by Land, are a prodigious Charge. And, which is worst of all, their Motions are frequently so tedious, and their Delays so many, that Opportunities are lost, incredible Damage sustained, and the Season of Action quite spent, before they come up. This, I say, is very often the Case, and therefore where Natives are equally qualified in other respects, and there is no want of Hands, these are certainly sittest to be employed. But still This hinders not but that there may be occasions, in which a Foreigner's Aid is advisable, and therefore this staring of the Comparison is not to be looked upon as a conclusive Rule, nor of any force against Cases of Necessity, or particular Convenience. But even then, it will be for the safety of a Prince, to take heed that the Strangers do not exceed those of his own Subjects; for though they may constitute a Part or Limb of the Army, yet they must by no means make up the main Body of it: For when once they feel themselves superior, or but an equal Match for the Natives, there is danger of their making use of such an Advantage, to subdue and make a Prey of their Masters that hired them. And History takes notice of this Trick being played so often, that no prudent Governor would run the risk of it, or put such a Game into Strangers Hands. And a fair Game to be sure it is; for He that is 〈◊〉 of the Field, may be Master of all the Kingdom whenever he pleases. Again; If there be a ne●●●sry for the Assistance of Strangers, let them be borrowed from our Allies and Confederates, whose Interests are interwoven with our own; and so whatever Damage one sustains, will affect both. Upon which account we have reason to repose greater Confidence in their Fidelity, and to expect better Service, and more Zeal from them, than we can from mere Strangers, who have not concern at all either with, or for us. To make such then, not one's Refuge, but one's Choice, and to multiply them to the Danger and Terror of one's own Subjects, is a Course fit for none but Tyrants; who, because they use their Subjects ill, are afraid of them. They treat them as Enemies, and are sensible, Low general a Hatred they have incurred; and therefore they dare not trust them, for fear they should have the Inclination to take it when they are put into a Condition of Revenage; and turn those Swords upon their Master, which he taught them to use for His defence, but hath provoked them to use for their Own.  
As for the Ordinary and auxiliary Forces, a Prince will sinned occasion for both sorts. 
Ord●●●● and 〈◊〉.  Now the Difference betwixt these two is, That the Former are but very few, they are constantly in Pay, and upon Duty, as well in times of Peace as of War. And of These therefore all that was necessity hath been delivered urder the Provisionary Part of Civil Prudence. These are People entirely destined to War, This is their whole Trade, and therefore they ought to be perfect Marters of is dexterous in all manner of Exercise, and reselute as well as skilful in handling their Arms. This is what the Moderns call the Standing-Forces of a Kingdom: the Prince's Honour in Peace, his main Protection in War, and much of the Nature with that Institution of the Old R●man 〈◊〉. Now it will he convenient that there thould be cont●●'d out by Regiments in time of Peace, and quartered in very small Body's, remote from one another, to preve●● any Co●●binations among them, or the giving Disturbence to the Public. The Auxiliaries or Extraordinary F●ce, are much more numerous indeed; but then they an not perpetnal, nor devoted to War, and 〈◊〉 else. They have other Professions to subsist upon; And These they follow, till the Service and Necessities of their Country draw them off: When this happens, and there is occasion for their Assistance, they are called in by Beat of Drum, listed and mustered, led on, and taught their Military Exercises. And when the Service is over, Their Business is so too; they are dismissed again, return to their Trades, and work to maintain their Families at home.  
You have now heard the Differences and Distinctions between Men of Arms; the next thing that requires good Advice and Direction, 
Choice of Men.  is the Choice of them. And this in truth is of mighty consequence, and will ask great Prudence and Care. It signifies but very little to draw together so many thousand Men; for Armies are not to be valued by Tale; nor does Victory attend upon the greatest Numbers, but the bravest Fellows. And commonly, That part which turns the Day, and is in the Hottest of the Action, consists but of a sew Squadrons in comparison. A wild tumultuous Rout does more hurt than good. 
* Non vires habed, sed pondus; potius impedimentum quam auxilium.  It is not a strengthening, but a Burden; and deserves rather to be called the heavy Baggage that retard a Prince's March, than a Relief or Protection to him. So perfectly insignificant are Multitudes void of Courage; and 
† Manibus opus est bello, non nominibus.  The Goodness of the Hearts and Hands is a better Security than the exorbitant length of a Muster-Roll. And thus you see, how great, and how fatal an Error it is, for Commanders to press or pick up the next Men they meet, or hire them at so much a Month, without any distinction. Whereas they ought to be rather nice and curious in making this Collection. And, as it is always the Reproach, so it sometimes proves the Destruction of a Nation, to have an Army composed of the next Chance-Comers, perfectly ignorant of the thing they undertake; the Sweep of Goals, the Scumm of the Nation, Lewd and Vicious to the last Degree; Bullies and Braggadochio's; bold in Plunder, and when no Enemy is in sight, but timorous and swift of Foot assoon as Danger makes its Appearance. Or if you please, take that ancient Description, 
⁂ Assueti latrociniis bellorum; insolentes; galeati Lepores; Purgamenta urbium, quibus ob egestatem & flagita maxima peceandi necessitudo.  Men trained up to no part of War but the Rapine and Robbery of it; Insolent and Big; Hares in Armour; the Dirt and Dregs of the Town; Rakehells whom Want and Wickedness hath brought intimately acquainted with Debauchery, and made exquisite in Impudence and Villainy of every kind.  
Now in order to making a good Choice, the Ends they are to serve aught to be duly considered; which will require some Judgement and Application of Mind. And to do this effectually and with Address, Five things ought to be taken into our regard.  
First, The place of their Nativity and Dwelling, and the manner of their Education suitable to it: For they should be taken principally out of the Country, from mountainous, barren, and rugged Situations, or else from Seacoasts; in all which places People are usually brought up to all sorts of Labour and hard Fare. So says Vegetius, 
* Ex Agris supprendum praecipuè robur exercitûs; aptior Armis Rustica plebs, sub dio & in laboribus enutrita; ipso terrae suae solo & coelo acrius animantur.  The Levies ought chief to be made out of the Country; for such Men will be a Strength indeed: They are fit to bear Arms, after being accustomed to endure all manner of Wether, and to live by Drudgery. Their very Soil and Climate hardens and gives them Courage. And the less easy and delightful any Man's Life hath been, the less he will be afraid to die. But now your People in Cities and great Towns are more nice and tender; they run to cool and artificial Shades, and know not what it is to endure either a scorching Sun, or a cold Winter Blast. Profit and Pleasure are all They are intent upon; and this makes them soft, and idle, and effeminate. 
† Vernacula multitudo, lasciviae sueta, laborum intolerans.  Bred up by their own Fireside, and good for nothing; used to Delicacy and Luxury; Slothful, and incapable of any laborious Undertaking, or hardy Usage.  
Secondly, The Age of the Men is of great consequence; for the best Season of taking them is in their Youth; about Eighteen or Twenty Years old, when they have not only Vigour and Strength, but are teachable and pliant, fit to learn, as well as able to perform their Duty. For Vice and Stubbornness grows upon them with Years: There is scarce any reforming old Fellows; the bad Habits of their former Days stick by them; and besides, they are so Headstrong and Self-conceited, that it is next to impossible to bend them to Instruction and Discipline.  
A Third Consideration is their Body; which, according to the Opinion of some, aught to be very tall; and thus Marius and Pyrrhus particularly desired their Soldiers. But the Stature does not seem to be of that mighty importance; for a moderate Size will do very well, provided the Body be dry and sirm, vigorous and strong: So says Tacitus, 
⁂ Dura corpora, stricti artus, minax vultus, major animi vigour.  Their Bodies should be clean, and well set, their Limbs tied, their Countenance stern; for these are good Indications of a Qualification most requisite of all, a brisk and courageous Mind. Your huge, overgrown, fat, flabby Fellows, with lose and washy Bodies, are good for nothing at all.  
In the Fourth place, They should look out for Men of lively Tempers, brave and resolute Spirits, bold and daring, and valuing themselves upon their Abilities; such as are greedy of Praise; impatient to be outdone, and afraid of nothing so much as Dishonour and Reproach.  
Lastly, Their Condition is likewise of very great Consequence: For those that are the very Lees and Dregs of the People, of a scandalous Character, or brought up in Lewdness or Infamy; or such as have followed lazy and sedentary Trades, or never knew any Business but following Pleasures and Women: In a Word, All manner of sauntring and disgraceful Processions, render a Man extremely unfit for This, which must engage him in Activity, and all manner of Hardship.  
The next thing after the making a good Choice of proper Men for our purpose, 
Discipline.  is to qualify them for Service by good Discipline. For it is by no means enough, that Persons capable of making good Soldiers are procured of that Capacity be not improved, and they actually made such; and to as little effect is it, that they are once made so, except they be kept so by habitual Practice afterwards. There are but very few Men in the World, who are valiant merely from Nature and Disposition; for, generally speaking, Courage is owing to Instruction and Art, to Custom and Discipline. And these things are of so exceeding great importance in War, that the Uses and Advantage of them are never to be expressed. Good Discipline is really All in All. It is to This, that old Rome was indebted for all her Glories; This secured and enlarged her Conquests, and made her Mistress of the World; all which that People were so sensible of, that no one Virtue whatsoever, not even natural Affection to their own Children, was reputed more necessary, or had in higher Esteem. Now the main Point of Discipline is Obedience; and that old Rule expresses this Matter very truly and well, which says, That a Soldier ought always to be more afraid of his Officer than his Enemy.  
Now there are two great Ends, 
Two Parts.  which this Discipline should aim at, which are, making good Soldiers, and good Men; and consequently, it must needs consist of two parts; one of which respects the Valour, the other the Virtue or Manners of the Persons concerned to be kept under it. For the promoting of Valour, and perfecting them in the Business of their Profession, Three Things are expedient.  
First, Constant Exercising them in the handling of their Arms, which ought to be the repeated Work of every Day, and never intermitted at all. And this is so essential to the very Being of an Army, that the Latin Tongue calls it by a Name which signifies Exercise. 
Exercitus  Now this is properly instructing them how to handle their Arms, and be expert in the use of them upon all occasions; to prepare for, and by just degrees advance to Action; to shoot and draw regularly upon their Enemy; to make the best of any defensive Weapons they are provided with for themselves; to show them distinctly every thing that is likely to happen in the midst of an Engagement; to bring them acquainted with Trials of that kind; and train them as in form and heat of Battle: And lastly, to propose Rewards and Honour for Them that excel, and are most dextrous; by that means to quicken their Diligence, and warm their Ambition.  
Secondly, Hard Labour, which is of great benefit for inuring them to Pain, and Toil, and Sweat, and Dust: For 
† Exercitus Labore prosicit, Otio conseneseit.  An Army improves and grows m●●e vigorous by Labour, but languishes and decays by Sloth and want of Employment. It also does good Service toward the Security of the Army, the Fortisying of their Camp, and Dispatch of Intrenchments. And therefore they should be taught to break Ground, and cast up well; to plant regular Pallisadoes, to raise stout Barricadoes; to run, and fetch, and carry heavy Burdens; for all these things are highly necessary, both to cover their own Lines, and defend themselves; and likewise for the pressing upon, and enclosing an Enemy.  
The Third thing they are to be instructed in, and accustomed to, is exact Order; which as it is of infinite use, so is it likewise of different sorts, according to the different posture of Affairs, and Exigencies of War. First it may be considered with regard to the ranging and distributing the Troops, cantoning them out either into Battalions, or Regiments, or Standards, or Companies. Secondly, In the Disposition of the Camp; that due Distances and Proportions be observed in the several Quarters; that its Avenues, Outlets, and Lodgments be conveniently ordered for Horse and Foot; so that it shall be easy for every one to sinned his own Quarters, and proper Post. Thirdly, In Motions and Marches, whether only from Place to Place through the Country, or to front an Enemy; and here they are to be taught to keep their Ranks, to move equally, and at just Distances from each other, so as neither to go lose and too far off, nor too close and crowded together. All this Order is highly necessary, and is of great use in several respects. It adds much to the Beauty of an Army; is entertaining and marvellous delightful to all that see and observe it; it cheers our Friends, and animates them strangely; confounds our Enemies, emboldens and inspires the Soldiers themselves with Security, and exceedingly sacilitates all their Motions; and the obeying any Orders that shall be given by their Generals. For by this means the Word is no sooner given, but, without any Noise or Confusion in the World, it is conveyed from one to another, and the meanest most private Man presently understands the Mind of his supreme Officer. 
† Imperium Ducis simul omnes Copiae sentiunt: & ad nutum regentis sine tumultu respondent.  All the Forces receive their Leader's Command at once, and in an instant with all the Order and Composedness imaginable attend and execute the least Significations of his Pleasine. In a word, When Orders are well observed, they almost make an Army invincible. And on the other hand, a great many Instances have happened, of Armies much superior in Number and Strength, and all other Advantages, which have been entirely routed, and cut to pieces, merely for want of Discipline, and knowing how to transmit, and obey Orders readily.  
The Second Part of Military Discipline concerns the Regulation of Manners; which naturally, 
Ma●mers.  and for the most part are scandalously dissolute and extravagant, and to the Reformation of which a Camp brings greater Obstructions, than any other Place or Condition of Humane Life: 
⁂ Assidue dimicantibus difficile Morum custodire mensuram.  It is not easy for Men that are engaged every Day in Blows and Blood, to keep a just Temper, and strict Virtue. But yet how difficult soever the bringing them to this be, it is necessary to be attempted, and aught to be taken Pains in; and especially all possible diligence must be used to establish Three Virtues among them.  
The First is Continence, in the larger and more comprehensive sense of the Word, as it is opposed to Excesses and Sensualities of all sorts; Gluttony, Drunkenness, Debauchery with Women, and every other kind of Pleasure, that is lewd and scandalous: All which are most unfit for Men of this Profession; because such Practices do so manifestly debase the Courage, and enfeeble both the Body and Mind of the Soldier. 
* Degenerate à Robore ac virtute Miles assuetudine Voluptatum.  For Men of Arms (says Tacitus) presently degenerate from their primitive Vigour, and grow soft and tame, by abandoning themselves to Pleasure. And Hannibal stands upon Record a scandalous Monument of a General, whom one Winter's Luxury perfectly melted down into Effeminacy, and made that great Man, who conquered all before him, and was invincible by Arms, a Captive and Conquest to his own Vices.  
A Second necessary Virtue is Modesty. In Conversation first, and Words; free from Vanity and Boasting, and big blustering Talk. For Courage exercises the Hands, and not the Tongue; and seeks its Praise, not from fine Speeches, but brave Actions. 
† Viri nati Militiae Factis magni, ad Verborum Linguaeque certamina rudes. Diserimen ipsum certaminis differt. Viri fortes in opere acres, ante id placidi Verbis, Linguà feroces. Plin.  Men that are disposed for War are great in Deeds, but unskilled in Disputes of Words; For indeed these Engagements are of very different kinds: A Stout and truly Brave Man is not forward to come to Action, but eager and violent in Action; calm and composed till he come to it. On the other Hand, your great Talkers are good for nothing, and are only valiant in Words, as one hath very truly represented them. Now the Tongue is the Instrument of Counsels, as the Hand is of Action. But then there is a Modesty in Deeds and Behaviour too, by which I mean a ready and entire Obedience, without any trifling, or delaying, or disputing the Commands of his Superiors, and pretending to be wiser than They. For 
⁂ Hoec sunt bonae Militiae, Velle, Vereri, Obedire.  These, (says one) are the Properties of good Soldiers, to be ready and willing, respectful and obedient.  
The Third Virtue is Abstinence: By which Soldiers would learn Honesty and Contentedness, and keep their Hands clean from all manner of Rapine and Violence; and not (as too frequently happens) turn Robbers and common Ravagers, and make every thing a Prey that comes within their reach. This in short is the Substance of Military Discipline, to which a General must give Force and Authority, by Largesses and Rewards bountifully scattered among those that are tractable and valiant, and deserving; and by severe and exemplary Punishments inflicted upon the Refractory, and Idle, and Negligent. For Indulgence in an Army is the Ruin of the Soldiery.  
What hath been said already may suffice for private Soldiers; 
Of the Commanders.  and therefore the little I shall add more Concerns the Officers; who are of so great Consequence, that their Soldiers can do nothing without them. For it is then no longer an Army but a Rabble; a Body without a Soul; a Ship with Sails indeed to move, but no Helm to steer, no Pilot to direct it. Of These there are two sorts. The General, who is the Supreme, and then the Subalterns; such as Lieutenant, and Major-Generals, Brigadiers, Colonels, and so down. But the General is All in All; and He can be but One, upon Peril of Confusion, and losing All. Hence it is, that we commonly say, an Army is considerable in proportion as the General is so; 
* Plus in Deuce repones, quam in Exercitu. Tacit.  That he is worth all the rest: more account to be made, more depending upon him; more Hope or more Distrust and Fear upon his Account, than the whole Body under his Direction. Now this General is either the Prince in Person, or some Person of Eminence for Prowess and Conduct, chosen and commissioned by him. The Presence of the Prince himself is of mighty Moment and Efficacy toward the obtaining a Victory; for it provokes the Emulation, and inflames the Courage of his Subjects; and indeed, when the Preservation of the Government, or any part of his Dominions, is the Occasion of the War, his Personal Appearance seems highly expedient and necessary. In Disputes of less Consequence it may well enough be dispensed with: For so Tacitus advises, That 
* Dubiis Praeliorum exemptus, summae Rerum & Imperii seipsum reservet. Tacit.  Monarches would not ordinarily expose their Persons to the common Hazards of War; but reserve themselves for the more important Concerns of the Government; and stay till Extremity calls them into the Field.  
But be the General who, or of what Character he will, a good one he cannot be, without the following Qualifications. First, Knowledge and Experience in the Art of War; one that hath seen and felt the different Events of War; 
† Secundarum ambiguarumque rerum sciens, eoque inter●●●s. Tacit.  acquainted with Conquest and Defeat, the Successes and the doubtful Chances of the Field; and neither to be exalted with the One, nor dejected and dispirited with the Other. Secondly, Caution and provident Care; and consequently a Man of sound substantial Sense, cool and strong Thought, weighed and steady Resolution, free from Heat, and Rashness, and eager Haste; which is not only an Argument of Folly, but the Cause of infinite Misfortunes, and irreparable Calamities. For False Steps in War are hard to be recovered; and a Man may not have the 
⁂ Non licet in Bello bis peccare— Ducem opertet potius Re●● 〈◊〉 qu●m Perspicere.  opportunity of playing the Fool twice. For which reason we commonly say a General should rather look behind him than before him; and be more solicitous to sccme what he hath already, than eager of getting more to it, at the hazard of the whole. A Third is Vigilance and Activity, winning upon the Soldiers by imposing Labour and Hardship upon himself, and by his own Example going before, and leading them on to every thing he would have Them do. A Fourth is good Success. Men indeed are not, cannot be fortunate, as they please; This is a peculiar and immediate Gift of Heaven; but yet the Divine Providence does usually give Success to probable Means and Endeavours; and where the Three former good Qualities meet, this very seldom wanting to crown them. In the mean while, it ought not to seem strange, that I give This a place here among the other Accomplishments; tho' it be not so directly within a Man's own Power to acquire it. For every Body knows what prodigious Effects the Persuasion of a lucky Commander produces; and how much more bold, and daring, and assured those Men are, who have a Confidence in the Fortune of their General, and fight under one who hath been accustomed to conquer.  
Having now done with those Considerations, 
Advice for Action.  which relate to necessary Provision of Ammunition and Men; we will proceed to the Rules and Directions proper to be observed in the making use of both these. This Third Point is of infinite Consequence; and the only thing that can render either of the former so; for Strength and Numbers, Arms and Men, are but empty and imaginary Things without it. There must be Art and Address, and not only Instruments, but Skill to work with them. For 
* Plura Consilio quam Vi perficiuntur.  Counsel and Wisdom achieves more and greater Explelli than Force. But it must be confessed, 
† Consilium in Atena.  that to lay down such Rules as shall be standing, and eternally suitable to every Case and Circumstance, is absolutely impossible, Because These depend upon a vast variety of Accidents and Occurrences; all which must be taken into consideration; and the Person will be obliged to comply with, and accommodate himself to them. And upon this Account it was ingeniously observed. That Men did not so properly guide their Affairs by Counsels, as their Affairs guide and determine the 〈◊〉. That a Man must make War by his Eye; that is, the must deserve and act upon Discretion; and the wisest 〈◊〉 that over sat, cannot be so proper Judges at a 〈◊〉, of what is to be done, as He who sees, and must take his Measures upon the Spot. For there are a Thousand, unforeseen 〈◊〉 gen●ies, which change the whole Scene, 〈◊〉 put a new surprising Face upon the Matter 〈…〉 require, that a● Man should steer a 〈…〉 and govern himself accordingly. But 〈…〉 not be so particular, and full, but 〈…〉 Reserves must be made for discretionary Proce 〈…〉, yet there are some Methods so general, and so fix, 〈◊〉 up Man can be mistaken in observing them; nor can any con●●●erate Author, who treats of this Subject, overlook them. Some few of these I shall briefly represent to my Reader here, and leave it to him from his own Observation or Experience, to add more, as he shall see occasion. Now of these there are two sorts: Some of constant use throughout the whole Course of the War: Others accidental and occasional only, as Times, or Places, or other Circumstances shall happen to make them seasonable. I begin with the Former sort.  
The first of these is Watching all Opportunities with the utmost Diligence and Circumspection; securing all that offer, that none slip by unprofitably; and at the same time preventing and countermining the Enemy, that he shall have no benefit by those that are put into His Hands. For Opportunity hath a huge Run, a mighty Stroke in all Affairs of Human Life, and more especially in War; where one lucky Hit does more sometimes, than all the Hands and Heads of a Kingdom put together.  
The Second is, Making his Advantage of Reports; for be they true or false, they are capable of doing great Service, and especially while they are fresh and warm. 
* Famâ bella constant, fama bellum conficit, in spem metumve impellit animos.  Common Fame gins, continueth, ends Wars; exalts Men's Minds with assured Hopes, dejects them with panic Fears. They fight as the News goes; and many a Field hath been lost and won, by virtue of a current Rumour; which, tho' so powerful in its Effects, had yet perhaps little or no Foundation to, stand upon itself. This last Advice chief regards a Man as yet unsettled in his Measures: But when the Scheme is laid, and he is not only determined so much as in those Circumstances one can, but hath entered upon his Designs.  
Then my Third Direction is, not to trouble himself about any such Rumours. He will do well indeed to get well informed, and to consider of them carefully; but still to proceed in his own Methods. To do what he is able, and what in Duty and Decency he is obliged to; what Reason prescribes, and there to fest; and expect the Event, as a wise and a brave Man should do.  
But above all, let him in the Fourth place, take heed of being too confident and secure; for this will lead him into infinite Mistakes and Inconveniences, perhaps never to be retrieved. A Man thinks meanly of his Enemy, as if he were despicable, and not worth his Care; and this betrays him to Negligence, and Thoughtlessness, and Sloth. Now This is the most dangerous and destructive Condition that a State of War is capable of. For whoever despises his Enemy, does most cerrainly expose and betray himself; and give that so despised Enemy an Advantage, which is no other Consideration did, would singly render him extremely formidable. 
* Frequentissimum initum Calamitatis, Securitas. Nemo celerius opprimitur, quam qui non timet. Nil tutò in host despicitur. Quem spreveris, valentiorem negligentià facies.  Security is usually the Forerunner and Occasion of great Distress. No Body is so quickly defeated, as the Man that is under no Apprehensions of Danger. Nothing in an Enemy can be despised with safety; for even that Carelessness, which naturally springs from Contempt, gives him more power to do you Mischief. These Reflections are true in their most general Sense; but in War nothing ought to be despised; because There nothing is, or can be frivolous enough to justify or deserve it; for it, often happens, that what we look upon to be very small and inconsiderable in itself, is yet fruitful in great variety of Consequences, and even prodigious Effects. 
† Seepe parvis momentis magni casus; ut nil timendi, sic nihil contemnendi.  Small Motions are often followed by monstrous Events; and therefore as nothing of this kind aught to perplex us with anxious Fears of it, so neither aught any thing to lull us asleep with the slight of it, as not worth our Notice and Care.  
Fifthly, He ought to be extremely curious, and inquisitive into the Condition of his Enemy, and the posture of his Affairs; particularly he should be sure to get certain Information of the following Points. The Temper and Complexion, the Inclination and Designs of the Commander in chief; the Temper of the People and Army under him; what their Manners are, and in what way they live; the Situation of the Places, and Condition of the Country all round about his Camp; and where either the Scene of Action, or any Motions of his Army may probably be. And this was Hannibal's peculiar Excellence.  
As for Engagement and Action itself, several things must be taken into Consideration; the Time, the Place, 
For Battles  the Persons against whom, the Manner how, a Man engages. Otherwise it may be as unsuccessful as it is an ill-advised Attempt. A Battle ought never to be hazarded, but upon great Deliberation, and very pressing Reasons to persuade it. Any other Method less hazardous is rather to be chosen; He should try to break and tyre out his Enemy; to harrass him with long Marches; to batter him with tedious Encampments; with incommodious Places; with want of Provision, and other Conveniences. In short; To beat him any other way, rather than by Dint of Sword. 
* Incerti Fxitus pugnarum. Mars communis, qui saep● spoliantem & jam exultantem evertit, & perculit ab abjecto.  For the Chance of War is extremely dangerous and uncertain: One Moment turns the Scales, routs and overthrows the Victorious in the midst of Joy and Plunder, and carries the just-before beaten and despairing, triumphant out of the Field.  
A General then must never let Matters come to this Extremity, 
The Time.  except it be very seldom: That is to say, when absolute necessity compels, or some great Occasion persuades him to it. The Cases of Necessity are such as these; when you feel Difficulties grow upon you daily; when you are reduced to want of Provision; when Money runs low, and no Supplies can be had; when your Soldiers grow discontented, and desert apace. In such Circumstances there is no subsisting long; and therefore A desperate Disease must have a desperate Cure; for you can but perish either way. For the Occasions which may render it advisable, I reckon the manifest Odds of Strength on your side, either in Numbers, or in other Qualifications superior to the Enemy; when Victory seems to invite, and stretch out her hand on purpose to be received and embraced; when the Enemy is at present considerably weakened by some Detachment, or otherwise; or not yet fully joined; but expects in a very short time to be completed or reinforced, and will then bid you Battle: When you have it in your Power to surpr●●● them, and they imagine that you are at a Distance, and incapable of reaching them; When he is harassed, or taking Refreshment: When he is divided, and Parties out Petrolling, or upon Booty; busy in Victualling their Camp, or their Horses forced to be Stabled up at a distance; and feed upon dry Meat, for want of Forage near their Camp.  
The Place of Engagement deserves also to be very diligently considered; 
Place.  this being of very great Importance in Action. One may venture to say in general, That it is by no means prudent to wait for the Enemy in your own Country; his Entrance thither should, if possible, be prevented; and you ought either to advance and meet him, so as to make his Territories the Seat of War; or else to secure your own Passes, and stop him at his approach. But if he have already vanquished that Difficulty, and got Footing; it is by no means advisable to run the Risque of a Battle, except you have another Army in reserve to sustain and recruit you speedily. For this would be to play a desperate Game, and to stake All upon one single Throw. But when Matters draw toward an Engagement, the Ground ought to be well viewed, and prudently chosen; and as you find it for your own, or your Enemy's Convenience, you must manage yourself accordingly: For the Ground itself is a very great, and sometimes almost an insuperable Advantage. Now a plain open Country is most convenient for the Horse, because this gives them Room to wheel and Scour in; but your narrow Defiles, and Places full of Bogs, Morasses, Ditches and Trees, are most Favourable to the Foot, because These give no Opportunity to the Cavalry to break in and Flank them.  
A General must also be Careful with whom he engages, 
Persons.  and never venture a Battle with an Enemy stronger than himself. Now, this Strength is not always to be measured by Numbers; but by the Courage and Resolution of the Men. And nothing makes Men so Valiant as Necessity; because this is almost an invincible Enemy; and therefore the Stress of it awakens all our Powers to make Opposition. Upon this Account it is a good Rule, never to fight with Men reduced to desperate Circumstances, but rather to put an Opportunity into their Hands of being upon better Terms with you. And this agrees exactly with the Counsel given in the former Paragraph, of not Hazarding an Engagement in one's own Country; because the Enemy must then be forced to make a Desperate and Bloody Business of it; as being sensible, that if he happen to be worsted, there is no avoiding of utter Ruin. No Fort to protect, no Retreat to receive, no fresh Succours to relieve and sustain them, and so nothing in Prospect but certain Victory, or certain Death. 
* Unde necessitas in loco, spes in virtute, s●lus ex Victoriâ.   
As for the Manner of engaging, 
XI. Manner.  That is certainly the best, which is most Advantageous, and likely to succeed; whether Surprise, or Stratagem, or making a Faint; pretending to retreat for Fear, to draw the Enemy out of a good Post, or into an Ambuscade, and take them in a Trap. Thus 
† Spe Victory inducere, ut vincatur.  the Expectation of Victory is the very Instrument made use of to work their Overthrow; Watching all their Motions narrowly, taking Advantages of every false Step; and charging them when and where they are least in a Condition to receive the Attack.  
For the due Management of a formal and ranged Battle, 
Formed Battles.  these following things are very expedient. The First and indeed the Principal, is a regular Disposition of one's Men, and Marshalling every part of the Army in their proper Place and Order. A Reinforcement, Secondly, constantly ready; so near at Hand, that they may pour in upon the least notice; and yet so much under Covert, that the Enemy may not discern, or be at all ware of any such Thing, till they are actually upon them. And tho' this Reserve be not very considerable in itself, yet the Effects of it will be so; for in a Hurry there is nothing so Ridiculous or despicable, but it is able to create or increase our Confusion. And 
* Pumi in omnious P●●his vincuntur Oculi & Aures  in all Engagements, the Conquest is first gained upon the Eyes and Ears; for when once their Senses are struck, and make a Report full of Terror, the Heart falls, the Hands grow faint and seeble, and all is our own. A Third useful Direction is, To be first in the Field, and stand ready in Form of Battle. This gains time, and gives a Commander Leisure to do what he sees fit, with Deliberation and Ease; it likewise animates our own Men, and discourages the Enemy, who measure our Assurance by out Forwardness. Besides, This is to make ourselves the Aggressors, and the First Blow is commonly given with more Spirit and Resolution, than it is received. A Fourth Expedient is, a Becoming, Bold, Brave, and resolute Aspect in the General and the rest of the Commanders; when their Countenances do not only speak their own Courage, but inspire and animate those that want it. The Fifth and Last, is a seasonable and pertinent Exhortation to the Soldiers; encouraging them to do well, representing to them, the Glory, the Advantages, nay, the Safety of behaving themselves Gallantly; That Infamy and Reproach, Danger and Death, are the certain Portion and Fate of Cowards. For 
⁂ Minus Timoris, minus Periculi; audaciam pro muro esse; Effugere mortem, qui eam contemnit.  the less Fear, the less Danger always: Courage is its own Defence; and the readiest way to escape Death, is boldly to face, and generously to despise it. He that runs, hastens to his own Destruction; and for one that falls in the Heart of Action, there are Ten cut to Pieces in the Flight.  
When once the Armies are engaged, 
In the Action itself.  the General is to observe on which side the Advantage inclines; and if he find his own Party give Ground, he is then to act the Part of a Firm Undaunted Mind; to do all that can be expected from a Resolure Officer, and a Gallant Soldier. To rally them again; lead them on in Person; bring them out of their Confusion; stop them in their Retreat; throw himself into the midst of them; hearten and encourage them to a Second Shock, by all manner of means; and in his whole Behaviour to give evident Demonstration, both to the Enemy and his own Soldiers, of his own Bravery, and Presence of Mind; that his Head, his Hands, his Tongue are free from Fear and Confusion, and serve him for proper Orders, and vigorous Action, with all Imaginable Readiness, and Address.  
If his own Side be Superior, and the Fortune of the Field rest there, his Duty is to repress, and Check their Eagerness; to prevent their Scartering and Disorder, by too fierce and obstinate a Pursuit. For in this Case, he ought to be Apprehensive of a Turn, which hath often happened; that the vanquished may take Heart again when they feel themselves hard pressed; and by making a desperate Push, rally upon, and rout their Conquerors. For Necessity is a furious Mistress, and putteth Men upon very violent Methods. 
* Clausis ex desperatione crescit Audacia; & cum Spei nihil est, sumit arma Formido.  When Men are surrounded with Death, Despair emboldens them; and after Hope is lost, Cowards turn Stout, and Fear itself takes up Arms. Rather therefore let him open a Passage, and facilitate their Flight; but least of all must he sufter his Men to fall upon the Booty, and while they are employed in rifling, and all in Disorder, endanger the being made a Prey themselves. Victory, when obtained, must be used with Moderation and Prudence; for Victory itself is not always Safe; if it be stained with Barbarity and brutish Usage, and put the Enemy out of all Hope, it may turn to very ill Account, and add to our Danger. For 
† Ignaviam Necessitas acuit; s●epe Desperatio spei causâ est. Gravissimi sunt morsus irritatae necessitatis.  Necessity and Ill Treatment give an edge to the dullest Soul; even Despair sometimes produces Hope; and no By't is so Keen, as That, when Extremity is provoked and makes her Teeth meet. On the other Hand, as it is more Humane, so it is really more Advisable and Safe, to use beaten Foe gently; to leave Room for Hope, and encourage Overtures of Peace; not to ravage his Country, nor make Havoc and Desolation, wheresoever we come. For Rage and Fury are very sierce and dangerous wild Beasts; and therefore we should take care not to let them lose. A Wise General will likewise behave himself with Temper and Modesty, upon his Successes; for Insolence is most unbecoming a Man conversant in War; most absurd in one, who cannot but have been upon that Account acquainted with the Inconstancy of Fortune; and aught to remember its Ebb and Flow, how quickly it rolls over to another Shoar; how strange those Revolutions are, by which Prosperity sometimes takes its Rise out of extreme Adversity; and on the Contrary final Ruin gins at Great, Good Fortune. That some Men are drowned with Two Foot of Water, and lost when they esteem themselves most safe. That more die of Surfeits, than of Hunger; and some have 
⁂ Magnam Felicitatem concoquere non possunt. Fortuna vitrea est, tunc cum splendet, frangitur. O infidam Fiduciam● & saepe Victor victus.  not Stomaches strong enough to digest a plentiful Meal of Happiness. That Fortune is Perfect Glass, and aptest to be broken when it is clearest and finest. And therefore all Confidence in it is Faithless and Unsafe; and the Conqueror frequently taken Captive in the midst of Security and Triumph.  
If you are beaten, it is an Instance of Wisdom to know it; to examine well your Circumstances, and consider what your Loss is. And never think to stifle your Misfortune, or Fancy, that This is nothing, All will be well again, and no body know it; for such Hopes are trifling and vain; and the Contrivance of suppressing the News of your Defeat is Childish and Ridiculous. 'Tis only to commit the carrying of it to uncertain Rumours, which represent nothing truly, and will make the Matter Ten times worse. You must therefore apply yourself to a full and serious Consideration of the Case; for how will you ever be able to find out a Cure, if you do not first search to the bottom of your Disease? After this, It will become his Courage to entertain better Hopes, to refresh his Forces with all imaginable Diligence; to call in fresh Succours, and make new Levies; and put good sufficient Garrisons into all his Places of Strength. And after all, if Providence be still contrary, as indeed sometimes it is so far from seeing fit to prosper, that one would almost imagine it perfectly sets itself against the justest Arms, and most commendable Undertake, there is always one Remedy left; for no Man can be denied the Privilege of lying down in the Bed of Honour: And sure a Decent and Reputable Death is much rather to be chosen, than a Life of Contempt and Reproach.  
And thus we have gone through the Second Head of this Subject, concerning Military Matters, excepting only, that there is One Objection arising upon it, which some scrupulous People may think necessary to be resolved. And That is, whether Subtlety and Deceit, Feints and Stratagems are lawful Methods, and how far they may be used. Some are absolutely against them, and decry them in all Cases whatsoever. They tell you no Circumstances can justify a Practice so contrary to Virtue and Truth, and unworthy Men of Honour and Conscience; and therefore that Remark of Virgil's will by no Means go down with them. 

* Dolus, an Virtus quis in host requirat?  Courage and Cunning both, the Laurels claim,  
A Foe is Privileged; that very Name  
Protects Deceit and Stratagem from Shame.  We find Alexander the Great so exceeding nice in this Punctilio, that he would not so much as take the Advantage of a dark Night, but declared, he scorned a stolen Victory. 
† Malo me Fortunae pigeat, quam Victoriae pudeat.  I had rather have occasion to be sorry for my ill Fortune, than to be ashamed for my good Success. Of the same generous Temper were the old Romans; They sent back the Schoolmaster of the Falisci, who proffered to betray them; and the Treacherous Physician to Pyrrhus, who was ready to poison him. They always pretended to Virtue and downright Honesty, dealt fairly and above-board, disclaimed and discountenanced all their own Countrymen, who gave themselves a Liberty of doing otherwise; reproached the Greeks and Africans with breach of Faith; and turned their Craft and Cunning into a Taunt and a Proverb. 
* Quae saluâ Fide & Dignitate paratur.  They made it a Principle, That those only are Conquests indeed, which are gained by Dint of Courage, by honest and just Methods, and such as cast no Blemish upon the Conqueror's Honour: But as for those which are the Acquisition of Subtlety and Stratagem, they are neither generous, nor reputable, nor safe, nor lasting. For those who are beaten upon these Terms, do not look upon themselves to be fairly vanquished; and the effect of that is what the Historian observes: 
† Non Virtute, sed Occasione & Arte Ducis se victos rati: Ergo non Fraud, & Occultis, sed palam & armatum Hostes suos ulcisci.  They impute their Defeat to a Chance, to the Subtlety of the General, who took his Advantage, and dealt indirectly: And this they do not think a Victory, but a Trick and a Cheat. And again, He scorned to revenge himself by foul play and Surprise, but took up Arms fairly, and came into the Field openly, and carved out his Vengeance with his Sword.  
Now these Reflections, I must own, are very just, but then they must not be extended too far. There are indeed Two Cases, wherein such Rules are obligatory; That I mean of Personal Quatrels, and Disputes between private Men; and that of National Controversies too, where the Matter in question concerns some former Engagements, or when there have been mutual Alliances and Compacts treated formerly between them. But where neither of these is the Case; that is to say, in a formal and direct War, and where no Faith hath been given, and consequently none can be broken, it is allowable to humble and defeat an Enemy any manner of Way: For the proclaiming of War is like passing Sentence of Death; all against whom it is denounced, lie under Condemnation; and if that Sentence were just, it will be lawful to exterminate and bring them to Execution, by the snatching every Opportunity and Advantage of doing it. This agrees with the Notion of very brave and deservedly renowned Generals, who have been so far from disdaining or condemning a Victory obtained by Subtlery and secret Stratagem, that they make no Scruple, even of preferring it before those that are acquired by Dint of Blows, and open Force. And accordingly they made Distinctions in their Sacrifices of Thanks upon these Occasions; ordering the most valuable, an Ox, to be offered up for the former sort; whereas a Cock was esteemed Acknowledgement sufficient, and more suitable to the Advantage of the Latter. Nor is it Their Opinion only, but even the great Christian Doctor, St. Augustin, thought it no way disagreeable to the Strictness even of Our Religion, to give this Determination of the Matter. 
* Cum justum bellum suscipitur, ut apertè pugnet quis, aut ex insidiis, nihil ad justitiam interest.  When a righteous War is begun, whether Men fight by open Force, and formal Engagements, or by Subtlety and Stratagem, and secret Ambuscade, it makes no difference in the Justice of the Proceeding. And indeed a State of War in the very Nature of the Thing hath some Privileges reasonably allowed to it, even against what Reason in other Matters would think necessary or allowable. And surely in Time and Place convenient, a Man is not bound to refuse any Occasion; for why should it not be counted as fair to take the Advantage of an Enemy's Indiscretion and Folly; as it is to make the best of their Weakness, or their Cowardice? And yet no Man, that I know of, ever pretended, that it was unbecoming a General to attack his Enemy, except both their Courage, or their Numbers were in all Points a Match, and equal to his own.  
Let us now Proceed in the last Place, 
The Third Head. Putting an End to the War.  to the Third Head of this Subject, which concerns Conduct in Military Matters; which, as it is the Shortest, so is it likewise the Joyfulest and most Desirable of all the rest; Putting an End, I mean, to the War by Peace. Peace! There is Music in the very Sound, Delight and Advantage in the thing; it is Beautiful and Charming in any Dress, and infinitely Profitable for all Parties, both the Victors, and Vanquished.  

* — Pax optima rerum, Quas homini novisse datum est; Pax una Triumphis Innumeris potior—  The sweetest Bliss that e'er indulgent Heaven.  
To smooth the Storms of Humane Life hath given.  
Repeated Pomp's and Trophies of the Field,  
To the soft Triumphs of One Treaty yield:  
Those Laurels full of Blood and Blemish are;  
He only conquers, who concludes the War.  
But the Advantages I confess, though universal, are not distributed in equal Proportions; the Losers, by the War have by much the greater and more sensible Share of them. And these, who are supposed to be enfeebled and reduced, must be advised, to keep themselves still in a posture of Defence, and preserve an Air at least and outward Appearance of Resolution, and Courage still unbroken, and Hope of a more favourable Change of Affairs: For (as hath been said before) He that is desirous of Peace in good Earnest must be always ready for War; and That Observation is most true, That the Best and Happiest Agreements are made in the Field, and treated with Sword in Hand. But though Peace be never so desirable and convenient for our present Circumstances, yet even a good thing may be bought too dear. We must not therefore be so immoderately Fond of it, as not to take Care, that it be Honourable, and upon fair and Reasonable Terms; For if this be not rightly adjusted, however that common Notion may prevail of a counterfeit and base Peace being better than a just and Creditable War; yet a Prince had better preserve his Liberty at the Price of his Life, and hazard all gloriously, than submit himself and his People to vile reproachful Terms, and live in Slavery and Infamy. A Peace than should not be patched up for a present Turn, and to Skin over a Sore; but it should be free and fair, without Trick, or Design, or deceitful Reservations; such as may entirely end the War, and not only suspend Acts of Hostility for a while, and so protract, and kindle War afresh. For 
* Pac● suspectâ tutius Bellum.  Downright War is better than a suspected Peace. But, all This notwithstanding, when Matters are brought to an Extremity, a Man must comply whether he will or no, and make the best Terms he can. When the Pilot sees himself ready to be Shipwrackt, he lightens the Ship, and is content to save his Life with the Loss of his Lading; and thus it often happens, that the throwing all overboard in the Case before us; insisting upon no Demands, but committing ourselves entirely to the Mercy of the Conqueror, succeeds very happily. For 
⁂ Victores qui sunt alto animo, secundae res in miserationem ex 〈◊〉 ●ertunt.  Prosperity hath a softening Influence upon generous Adversaries, and they feel their Anger melted into Pity; and the more they have it in their Power, the less Inclination they find to take a Revenge.  
The Prosperous and Triumphant must give me leave to advise them, that they would not be overnice, and difficult to grant a Peace; for, tho' perhaps the vanquished get abundantly more by it than the Victors, yet still even These get a great deal. For, supposing the best Fortune, and the easiest Terms the thing will admit, yet the carrying on of a War cannot but be a Matter of infinite Trouble and Inconvenience. And Lycurgus had another Consideration, for which he thought it always inexpedient to be often at War with one and the same Enemy, because this is training him up, as it were, and teaching him the Trade, till at last he grow as expert as his Masters; and learn not only to defend himself, but to attack us. The Teeth of Beasts in the Agonies of Death are exceeding venomous, and the Wounds made by them then, commonly prove mortal. 

* practice rebus violentior ultima virtus.  Valour's last Efforts bold and dangerous are,  
And double Fury rages in Despair.   
And besides, the Contingencies of War are more than can possibly be foreseen; they are intricate, and dark, and the Issue always uncertain. One unlucky Action may blast all that went before; and therefore 
† ●●●lior tutiorque Pax sperata Victoriâ. Illa in Tu●, Haec in Deorum mannuest.  A good Peace, which secures All, is much safer and more eligible, than an absolute Victory at distance, and in reversion only; because That is in the disposal of Providence, and may never be yours; but this in your own hand, and you have it actually in possession. So great a difference ought we to make between Things Present, and those that are Future, and but in Prospect; if no other Argument concursed to balance our Choice. But it deserves to be remembered further, that the Sting lies usually in the Tail; That Fortune is always floating and inconstant; and the longer she hath favoured us already, the greater reason we have to apprehend, that she will be shifting shortly. And 
⁂ Nemo se tutò diu 〈◊〉 potest.  No Man can with safety to himself tempt dangers, which must thicken upon him every day.  
But, besides the making a saving Game while we may, we should do well to reflect, how honourable a way of proceeding this is. For when all is our own, and our Enemy lies at Mercy, then to hearken to Proposals, and readily accept a Peace, is truly Great and Glorious. This shows those Pretences to be true, which all Princes affect to make, that we are desirous to end the War, and fight only for the sake of Peace. And on the other side, The refusing good Terms, and suffering any Change of Fortune afterwards, makes one fall unpityed, and exposes him to the Scorn and Indignation of all Mankind. They tell you. That such a one is a Sacrifice to his own Vanity and Ambition. He disdained Peace, and grasped at Honour; and by refusing one when he might have had it, he hath now lost both. But, when we are so disposed to grant a Peace, we should be liberal in our Concessions, and give large and liberal Conditions, that so it may be firm and lasting. For if it be rigorous and hard, we must expect, that those who are oppressed by us, will be sure to revolt, and break lose from their Covenants, as soon as ever they find it feasible and convenient. So says Livy in one of his Treaties, 
* Pacem, si bonam 〈…〉; si 〈◊〉 haud diuturnam.  If you grant a good Peace, it will be durable and firm; but if the Terms be harsh, this can never bind so fast, but that the first. Opportunity of mending their Circumstances, will be sure to break through it. And it is an Argument of a great Soul, to be flexible and indulgent, and yielding to an Enemy, when he sues for Pity; as it is to be invincible, and keep one's Ground when he engages you in the Field. The Ancient Romans we find have set an excellent Pattern of this kind, and the good Account it turned to with Them, is a sufficient Reason to recommend it to 〈◊〉 Imitation of 〈◊〉 Posterity.   

CHAP. IU. The Preface.  
HAving dispatched, as you see, the several Directions necessary for that part of Civil Prudence, which is designed to guide a Prince in the Administration of the Government, and the maintaining that Character which is altogether Public: I design in the next place to allow that Prudence, which is personal, a distinct Consideration: That, I mean, which is necessary for the preserving himself under, or for applying proper Remedies to, the Difficulties, and Dangers, and Calamities that may happen. And this is the fit to be spoken to apart, and by itself, because both the Rules themselves, and the Occasions which require the Practice of them, are agreeable to the Circumstances of all Conditions of Men, and suit both Prince and Subject; both them, in Public, and those in Private Capacities.  
Now the First thing to be done upon this Occasion, is the observing and distinguishing duly that great Variety of Business and Contingenties, which this Subject will engage us in the Consideration of: For they may be either Public or Pri●●●. They may be Future, and such as threaten ●s at some ●●●ance; or they may be actual Hardships, and such as we lab●● under at presons. They may be ●●●●cate and Uncertain; or they may be ovi●●●● Dangerous and Difficult; and of great Concern to is too, 〈…〉 of the Violence of the Pressure they put us under. And again, Those that are of the highest Consequence, and are 〈◊〉 and encumbered with most perplexing Difficult 〈…〉 Secret and Con●●●l'd, or Vist●● and Open. Of the 〈◊〉 Sort 〈◊〉 may ●●kon T●●● Close Conspiracies against the 〈◊〉 and lift of the Prince, or against the Government in general, Or Treathery against any 〈◊〉 or, Town, 〈…〉, or some particuliar Body 〈…〉 The 〈…〉 such as are Manifest and Open, are 〈…〉 sor● For either they want the Formalities of War, 〈◊〉 ●●●tumultuous and disorderly; as Popular Commotions, 〈…〉 Insurrections upon some slight Occasion of Offence; 〈…〉 and 〈…〉 into by some Subjects against the 〈◊〉 and the 〈…〉 in these may be Numerous or Few, Great or 〈…〉 Seditions or Mutinies against the Prince or the 〈…〉 the Authority, and 〈…〉 self: Or else they are 〈…〉 go by the 〈…〉 and be of as many 〈…〉 which are indeed 〈…〉 and imperfect 〈◊〉 of such 〈…〉 full Growth by 〈…〉 every 〈◊〉 these, 〈…〉 and to 〈…〉 to Men's 〈…〉 be 〈…〉 〈…〉 Those of the first 〈…〉 those of 〈…〉 〈…〉 filent 〈…〉 about him, without ever 〈…〉 Blow. The Former of 〈…〉 govern and order the 〈…〉 Himself. The Former is the brisker Man, and plays a bolder; but the Latter is the surer, and plays a more saving Game. The Former is always in deep Anxiety and Suspense, agitated and toffed between Hope and Fear; the Latter puts himself under Covert, lies down upon the Ground, and satisfies himself with the Comfort that he can fall no lower. The Former takes pains to escape the Calamity; the Latter labours to endure and get through it; and it very often happens, That This Man hath the better Bargain of it, and comes off with less Trouble and Loss We know Men are often at more Expense to defend their Title by Law, than the whole thing they contend for is worth: And thus it is very often in other Matters. The cheapest Course they can take is to fit down by the Loss; and many an Affliction is born with more Ease to the Sufferer, than it can be either avoided or struggled with. The Covetous Wretch is a greater torment to himself, than He that is really Poor; and the Jealous Husband feels more uneasiness, tho' his Jealousy be groundless and undeserved, than the Cuckold who hath been actually dishonoured, but either knows it not, or regards it not. The peculiar Virtue of the Former, and that which is most necessary for his Circumstances is Prudence; for His is active Valour; That of the Latter is Temper, and Constancy, and Patience; for his part is purely passive. But indeed, why should a Man be confined to either of these singly? Wherefore should he not use and try both, in their Order and proper Season? For methinks Prudence and Vigilance should be the first Attempt; and when these are found insufficient, then is the time for changing our Measures, and Patience should succeed in their Place. Thus much at least is certain and undoubted, that in all Public Contingencies the Methods for Prevention and Remedy ought first to be tried; Those that are in Trust and Office, and have it in their Power to serve and promote the Common Good, are indispensably obliged to it, and aught to stand in the Gap against all managable Difficulties and Misfortunes. In the Case of private Persons, I confess it is otherwise; there a Man hath none but himself to answer for; and it will be agreeable to Wisdom and Duty both, to consider the state of the Matter before him, and consult his own Abilities; and then to make a Choice of such Methods and Management, as appear most advantageous in the present Circumstances, and as he feels himself best qualified for.    

SECT. II. Of Evils and Difficulties actually present, and pressing.  
THE proper and most effectual Course to lighten the Sufferings of Human Life, and to sweeten the Passions under them, is by no means to set on's self in Battle array, and enter into a formal Combat with them; for Opposition in this Case does but blow the Coals, and render them more surious and insupportable. The Eagerness of Debate and Contradiction does but irritate and inflame the Sore, instead of mollifying the sharp Humour, or assuaging the Pain. And therefore He who would consult his Ease, and the Serenity of his own Mind, should betake himself to one of the two following Remedies.  
The First is, That of diverting, and drawing them off to another Course. Thus we preserve our Lands from Inundations, by opening Trenches, and carrying off the Water by another Channel: And thus Physicians, when they find the Morbific Matter too obstinate to be purged away, try to give it a Turn, and throw it into some other part, where the Consequence may be less dangerous to the Patient. And This, when attempted, must be done by means as gentle, by degrees as easy and insensible, as can possibly be. For the Application, when prudently and dexterously made use of, is of marvellous Efficacy in all manner of Calamities. Nor ought it to be thought odd or peculiar, since it is the common Remedy and Practice of Mankind, not in Affliction only, but in every other Case which is difficult or disgusting: And what I advise here, every Man who observes nicely, will find to be the Expedient, which he naturally prescribes to himself. This is the Art we use, to swallow down the bitterest Morsels, and by which we feel ourselves insensibly hardened to endure the Approach of Death itself. So says the Philosopher, 
* Abducendus Animus est ad studia alia, curas, negotia; Loci denique mutatione, tanquam aegroti non convalescentes, curandus est.  The Mind must be drawn off to new Objects, fresh Diversions of Pleasure, of Business, nay even of Cares and anxious Thoughts of another kind; or, if nothing else will do, we must treat it as they do sick People, and try if change of Air, and another Country, will contribute any thing to the Cure. Thus, when timorous People are to pass by some dreadful Precipice, we prevent or lessen the Fright, by prevailing with them to shut then Eyes, or look another way. And thus Men commonly wink, when the Executioner is to give the Stroke: Thus we endeavour to amuse Women and Children upon letting Blood, and tho' neither the Danger or the Pain be what can justify their Fears, yet the very Sight and Approach of the Lancet is something they cannot support. And, since all Mankind are in some measure tinctured with this Infirmity; since some Sufferings seem to be an over-match for Human Nature; we have all the reason in the World to think the Stratagem of Hippomenes a very proper Pattern for our Imitation. The Story we find represented by the Poets; and it is briefly thus. Hippomenes was to run a Race with Atalanta, a Lady of exquisite Beauty, and celebrated Agility. The Conditions were. That if he lost the Race, he should lose his Life; but if he won it, the Lady was to be his Prize. He distrusting his own Swiftness of Foot upon even Terms, provided Three Golden Apples, and as they were running, took occasion to let these fall at convenient distances one after another; and thus by taking up her time, who stooped to gather them up, he diverted her from the Business of the Race, and won both the Day and the Bride into the Bargain. The Application I would make of that Fable is only This; That if the Consideration of one Misfortune, or grievous Accident, which we at present labour under; or if the Remembrance of any past Calamity lie heavy upon our Minds; or if some boisterous and violent Passion ruffle and torment us, which we our feel selves unable to subdue by downright striving; the best Expedient will be, to shift the Scene, and bring some other Thought upon the Stage. For when we cannot absolutely exterminate, and perfectly compose it, there is the gaining of a Point in some measure at least, when we can change a more dangerous Calamity for one that is less so, and banish one Passion with another less outrageous. All this, in the mean while, is not intended to discourage Men's entering into the Lists, and making a formal gallant Opposition against the Evils they suffer, and the Resentments provoked by them. But the proper Season for this Advice, is when the Enemy is too mighty, and the Combat unequal and unsuccessful: For when Fight will do no good, a wise Man will try to save himself by Flight; he must dodge, and wheel, and get out of the way of Mischief. Or, if it dog him so close, that there is no avoiding it, he must try to soften and break the Force of it, by some fresh Diversions, and taking Sanctuary in some Thoughts of another kind, which may give a Turn to the Soul, and change the Current of the Imagination: Or, if they cannot go so far as to make a perfect Exchange, yet such at least may give the Misery some Interruption, and divide those ungrateful Ideas, which they are too feeble either to keep down, or to root out totally, tho' at the Expense of new one's planted in their room.  
The Second Expedient, and that which is most advisable in Cases of great Extremity, where the danger is so evident, and inevitable, that a Man hath nothing left him to do, but to stand the Shock, is to stoop a little under the Blow, and give place to Necessity: For by showing a Man's self obstinate in such a Case, and resolving not to yield in any Point, the Violence is but the greater, and the Treatment we meet with so much the rougher; it being the Nature of Opposition to provoke; and our Passions in such Cases, like Torrents, which no Dams are strong enough to stem, rage's the more for being penned up, and at last swell the higher, and bear down all before them. In such Cases therefore, a Man must be content to see himself overruled; and whatever Rules he hath fixed to his Behaviour in ordinary Circumstances, they must be dealt with as wise Politicians do by the Laws of the Land; who, when they fall short, and cannot do what they would have them, altar their Measures, and make them do what they can. It hath been by Many esteemed a Reproach upon Cato, and a considerable Blemith in his Character, that he was so very stiff and nice in the Civil Wars which happened in his Time, and rather suffered the Commonwealth to be driven to the last Extremities, than he would contribute to its Relief at the Expense of some I awes, which the present Necessity and Distress made it very reasonable to have dispensed with. On the other hand, Epaminondas had so great a regard to the Public Good, that he continued in his Office beyond the Term prefixed, tho' the Law prohibited the doing so upon pain of Death; so just a Sense had he of the End and Nature of Laws, that they are designed for the Service and Advantage of the State, and cannot in any equitable Construction be supposed to bind, where the Exigence of Affairs is such, that by observing the Letter of the Law, a Man destroys the End of it. Accordingly we find this Commendation of Philopaemon, that he was a Person born to Command: For he was not only Master of the Art of Governing according to Law, but had the Skill of Governing the Law itself, when any Public Necessity required that it should be set aside; and left no other Refuge, but the Discretion of the Magistrate. For it often happens, That Those at Helm are put out of their common Road by some difficult and extraordinary Emergencies; and in such Cases it is their Duty as well as Wisdom to ply to Windward, and steer what Course they can. And indeed, in all Extremities, Private as well as Public, a Prudent Man will be content to bend a little, to yield and comply as far as he may, and by all honest Stratagems to save the main Chance. For in these Matters there is a Latitude and Privilege of Relaxation allowed; some Moderation and Abatement, which those who are unacquainted with the present Circumstances, can be no competent Judges of. And therefore we should be very tender, how we condemn a Proceeding, which is so far from being contrary to Reason, and Justice, that it is highly agreeable to both; and not only so, but a Masterpiece of Prudence in those who manage it skilfully.   

SECT. III. Affairs Intricate and Uncertain.  
BY this Intricacy and Uncertainty of Affairs, I understand such a Juncture as hath great Appearance of Reason, and strong Arguments on both sides; so that the Man is at a loss, and does not discern, nor know how to choose what is best and most convenient for him; This creates distraction and perplexity of Thought; and till some other Consideration fall in to turn the Scale, the best thing we can do is to consider, where there are the greatest Odds of Justice, and Honour, and Decency; and by all means fall in with that side. For, altho' the Event should prove contrary to our Expectation or Desire, yet still there will be a secret Satisfaction, the Complacency and Testimony of our own Breasts, to support us within; and the Reputation and Praise of Men without, for having chosen the better, tho' not the more fortunate Course. Nor ought any Miscarriage in such a Case, to provoke the least Remorse; because no Man can tell what Providence hath to do, or how that will dispose of Him and his Endeavours; and consequently he cannot be secure that his Disappointment or his Calamity would have been less, tho' he had taken quite different Measures. And therefore, when a Man cannot resolve himself which is the easiest and the shortest way to his Journey's End, the best Determination he can come to, is to keep the straightest Road.   

SECT. IU. Difficult and Dangerous Cases.  
IT is often Men's Fate in Matters of Difficulty, to succeed as They that are overnice and cautious commonly do in Bargaining, and Articles of Agreement; where an excessive Care to make all fast, and prevent all manner of Danger, is but a means of increasing the Danger, and ruining All. For by this mighty Circumspection, so much more Time is spent, so many mere People are employed, so many more Clauses and Provisoes inserted; that the Differences and Squabbles arising upon it, are multiplied in proportion to the Clutter made for avoiding them. To all which we may add, that this is the way to provoke Fortune, who is jealous of her Honour, and will not bear the Presumption of any Man's pretending to exempt himself from Her Jurisdiction. Which after all is a vain Attempt, and what the most provident Man alive can never compass: For there is One Above, who hath a Power Paramount, 
* Vim suam ingruentem refringi non unlt.  and will not suffer his Dominion to be encroached upon. And therefore the best way seems to be the dispatching them with all the Expedition and Easiness we can, and rather to run the Risque of some little Danger, than create a great deal of Dissatisfaction and Torment to ourselves, by our extraordinary Nicety and Caution.  
In Cases of manifest Danger, it is necessary a Man should have both Wisdom and Courage; He should look before him, and see Dangers at a distance, and make a right Judgement and Estimate of them; For Men are very apt to see these things in  Proportions, and to look upon them through the Glass of Passion, rather than calm and undisturbed Reason. This is one account, why such things are generally apprehended otherwise than in reality they are, because the Affection predominant at that time, represents them greater or less, and imposes upon the Judgement by such Ideas. But then, tho' it may become a wise Man to foresee all Hazards that are in any degree probable; yet it is no way unworthy of him to consider them as Contingencies, that they may not, as well as that they may happen; that it is great odds all of them will not happen; That of those which do, All will not have the Consequences and Effects, which it is sit for one to sorm in his own Mind, who makes it his business to provide against the very worst that can come; that a Man shall, by the help of Industry and Prudence, be able to deal with the greatest part of them well enough. In this Case too, it is sit to consider in which of those Accidents that threaten us, we may promise ourselves Assistance, and accordingly to provide our Succours: And as generally in All, so in these Junctures more especially, to take Courage, to six our Resolutions, and be steady in our Undertake. For, when once a Man hath considered what he goes about, and finds it agreeable to his Duty, and what every way becomes him to do, he is obliged by all means to persevere, and not suffer any Prospect of Danger to discourage him in a commendable Attempt. A Wise Man indeed will never want Courage, because he proceeds with Deliberation and Thought; prevents the Mischief of Surprise, and provides against every thing likely to cross his Design. But than it is no less expedient, That the Man of Courage have a Mixture of Wisdom too; for without This all his Boldness is but rath Hear, and a blind foolhardy Giddiness.   

SECT. V Conspiracies.  
WE are now advancing to such Accidents, as of all others are of the greatest, most general, and most dangerous Consequence, and therefore it will be fit to enlarge a little the more upon them. Which shall be done, first by giving a particular Description of the Thing itself; Then by laying down such Directions as may be serviceable to a Prince under them. And then in the Conclusion of this Subject, casting together into one Chapter that Advice proper for private Persons to follow upon these Occasions.  
By Conspiracies I mean the Attempts made, either by some one Man singly, or by several in Combination, against the Person of the Prince, or the State and Government in general. And this must be acknowledged a Circumstance of infinite Danger, extremely hard either to escape or to remedy, by reason of the Secrecy, and industrious Concealment of the Thing. For which way shall a Man be able to secure himself from the treacherous Assaults of an unknown, unsuspected Enemy? And what shall give any just Jealousy of that Man's being so, who wears the Face, and acts the part of our faithfullest, tenderest, and most zealous Friend? The Thoughts and Inclinations of the Heart lie too dark and deep for Human Eyes to penetrate; and yet here is all the Danger; for they who design a Prince's Ruin, will take all the care they can, that no Overt Act, no failure of Respect, no Coldness or Negligence in Behaviour, may minister cause of Suspicion; but will rather exceed in the Expressions of Duty and Respect, and mask their Villainy by an officious and double Diligence. Besides, do but consider the Advantages of a desperate and bloody-minded Man; for he that does not value his own Life, may make himself Master of any other Man's whenever he pleases. 
* Contemnit omnes Ille, qui Mortem priùs.  He knows not how to fear, who dares to die.  
So that a Prince is continually exposed to Danger and Death, and lies at the Mercy of every private Man, who hath hardiness enough to sacrifice himself in the Attacking him.  
Machiavelli takes great Pains to show how Plots against the State ought to be contrived, and so laid as to prove Successful. We leave that wicked Policy to Him; and shall employ all our Care to show how they may best be discovered and defeated.  
Now the best Remedies and Directions that I can think of for so critical and hazardous a Juncture, are these that follow.  
First, Private Intelligence, and cunning underhand Methods, to discover and counterwork all Attempts of this Nature; in which Faithful, Vigilant, and Discreet Persons should be made use of as Instruments. These are the Eyes and Ears of the Prince; and therefore they should be every where, to discover and bring Information of all that may concern him to know; but particularly they should have a special regard to all that his Principal Officers and Ministers say and do: because These are capable of doing most Mischief, and he cannot be tolerably safe, if they be false to him. Now it is as observable in this Case, as in any whatsoever, That Out of the Abundance of the Heart the Mouth speaketh; For People, who have a Design upon the Government, naturally love to asperse and blacken the Prince, censure his Administration severely, and load him with Calumnies; or if they have Temper enough to be silent themselves, yet they love the Conversation of those that do so, harken with a sensible Relish and Delight to all kind of Factious Discourse; and frequent the Company of Men, who by railing and blaming all that is done, infuse Jealousies, and foment Discontents among the People. It is very necessary therefore, that a Prince should be well informed what his Subjects, but especially what those about his Person, say of him; what Company they keep, and how they entertain themselves; and it is fit that he should engage to reward the Persons, who make such useful Discoveries, not only with Impunity, but large Sums of Money for their good Service. But then he must be no less careful too of another Inconvenience which may arise from too easy a Credulity. For tho' he will do wisely to hear all, yet he is by no means bound to believe all. The Rewards I mentioned, as they are Recompenses well bestowed upon faithful and good Men, so are they likewise great Temptations to ill Men; and therefore every Report of this kind should be very diligently examined, before a Prince gives credit to it; or otherwise this Expedient for his own Preservation will be converted into a means of crushing and murdering the Innocent; and of making himself the common Detestation and Reproach, the Terror and the Curse of his People.  
The Second Preservative in this Case, is Winning and Engaging the Hearts and Affections of all his Subjects, nay even of his very Enemies, by Methods of Justice and Goodness, of Courtesy and Clemency. For when all is done, 
* Fidissima Custodia Principis Innocentia.  A Prince's best and strongest Guard is his Innocency; the being an Universal Blessing, good to all, injurious and grievous to none. The Apostle had reason when he asked that Question, Who is He that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good? For, usually speaking, The Man that gives no Offence, takes an effectual Course that none shall be given him: But he who does Injuries, must expect to have them paid back again with Interest: And therefore the worst use that can possibly be made of Power, is to exert it to unjust and base Purposes, and make it an Instrument of Oppression and Violence. So says a wise Author, 
* Male vim suam Potestas, aliorum contumeliis experitur.  Power never puts out it's own Strength so ill, as when it breaks forth into Insolence, and contumelious usage of those Persons whose Weakness hath laid them at its Mercy.  
A Third Expedient upon these Occasions is, To set the best Face upon the Matter; not to betray any Dejection of Mind, but carry all off with one's usual Gaiety and Freedom of Behaviour; To give out abroad, that he is very sensible what People are doing, and punctually informed of all their Secret Practices and Designs; that there passes nothing at any of their Cabals, but he hath immediately an Account of it: For where Privacy is the Life of an Attempt, if once the Plotters can be brought to believe that all they do, takes Air, the Project is broken of course. This was an Expedient which a certain Person assisted Dionysius the Sicilian Tyrant with, and it was bought cheap at the Price of a Talon.  
The Fourth Direction is, To wait for any danger of this kind without any Confusion or Consternation of Mind: These Three last Rules Caesar practised in great Perfection; but in the first he was altogether deficient; Indeed he professed to disdain it, as a thing below him, and not worth his while; and declared, That he thought a Prince had better die once for all, than live in a perpetual Anxiety and Pain, for any Accident which the most vigilant thoughtful Man alive hath it not in his Power to prevent; and therefore he would rather choose to be easy, and in This, as well as other Matters, trust the Event entirely to Divine Providence, which alone can protect and secure the Persons of Princes effectually. But still this Reflection does not take off the usefulness and necessity even of my first Advice, and the rest it leaves in their full force. Which in truth are yet more recommended by the ill Success of Courses contrary to these: For all Histories, and particularly those of the Roman Emperors, show beyond contradiction, that the Intentions to prevent such Plottings by speedy Vengeance, and rigorous Punishments, did very seldom obtain their desired Effect: They rather exasperated Men's Minds, than subdued them; and the severest and most hasty to take Revenge, and terrify their People, were commonly least secure, and found the worst Treatment from them.  
Thus much may serve for Advice how Princes ought to behave themselves, while the Designs against their Persons and Government are kept close and in the dark. But when such Conspiracies come to be discovered, and the Truth brought to light, What is fit to be done then? Why truly my first and most general Direction must be, To make the Conspirators public Examples, by punishing them with all the Severity their Villainies deserve. To spare such black Wretches as these, were not Compassion but Cruelty; Cruelty to the Innocent, and Peaceable, and Good; and Treachery to the Public, whose Safety is exposed and endangered by such indiscreet Instances of Pity: For Justice and Equity require, that Those who are Enemies to the Peace and Quiet, the Liberties and Rights, and common Happiness of Mankind, should make Reparation with their Blood, for their Attempts to over-turn and destroy these so necessary, so valuable Advantages. But then, even those Executions are to be managed with Prudence and Discretion; and the manner and Method of Punishing must vary, according as the Face and Condition of Affairs shall happen to vary. Sometimes it is convenient to use all possible Dispatch, and punish presently, especially where the Conspirators are not very numerous. But be the Number of them great or small, I can by no means approve of putting Criminals to the Torture, in order to larger Discoveries, and the bringing out Accomplices not yet known. (For there are other ways of getting Information by softer and more secret dealing, which very seldom fail; and besides, it may often be of use not to seem very solicitous to know, or if one does know, to appear otherwise, and pretend Ignorance in such Cases.) But, besides all other Mischiefs of such a barbarous Custom as the Rack, this is one certain Discouragement, that a Man is sure to torment others for the Discovery of that, which when found out, will be a Plague and Torment to himself, and set a world of People against him too. Nor do I think it always necessary that every Individual Malefactor should suffer: It is enough that some few are made exemplary Warnings to the rest; so many as may encourage and contain good Subjects in their Duty, and reclaim the Factious, by striking an early Awe into those, who are not yet, or at least do not imagine that they are discovered. Sometimes again it is necessary to defer punishing the Offenders; but to be sure upon all such Emergencies, the Prince's own Safety must be his first and great Care: In this no Time must be lost; the rest may well submit, and be regulated afterwards, as Opportunities best offer. But the Case may have greater Difficulties in it still, The Conspirators may be Persons of such Quality and Figure, or the Discovery may be made in such a critical Juncture, that a Prince may be obliged to dissemble his Knowledge and his Danger; and the offering to seize or punish the Guilty, may hazard his Life and Kingdom another way: In such a Straight it requires a great deal of good Conduct to play a safe Game. The best Course of all is without question to countermine and prevent their Plot; to break all their Measures privately; and when the Danger is thus avoided, to decline the giving Offence, by pretending not to know the Parties concerned, but to manage the Matter, and secure himself, while all the while he appears intent upon something else. Thus the Carthaginians managed their General Hanno, and the Historian's Remark upon this Method of proceeding is, 
* Optimum & solum saepe insidiarum remedium, si non intelligantur.  That oftentimes the best, nay the only way to prevent treacherous Practices, is to act as if one knew nothing at all of the Matter. Nay, which is still more; I am positive that sometimes it is absolutely necessary not to punish Conspirators at all. For if the principal Contriver be a very great Man; if his Abilities or his Deserts have made him popular; if his former Services have been very considerable, and the Prince and Government particularly obliged by him: If his Children, his Relations, his Friends are in great Posts, or Men of Wealth, and general Interest: What would you do in such a Case? How would you break through all these Difficulties? Who indeed would attempt it? Who would provoke such Dangers, and make so many and such dangerous Enemies, and not rather by wholly remitting his Punishment, if that can safely be done; or if not, yet at least by mitigating, and rendering it as gentle as the Case will bear; continue a good Understanding, and secure the Affections of all who have an Interest in his Pardon? Clemency upon such an Occasion is not only Brave and great, (for indeed nothing can be more for the Honour of a Prince, 
* Nil gloriosius Principe impunè laeso.  nothing give us a brighter Image of Virtue and Magnanimity, than a Monarch pardoning the Affronts and Ill-Usage which he never deserved) But it is also very often the most prudent and politic Course, and most effectual Security to him for the Future. For Men, who have any the least remains of Ingenuity and Humanity, will be melted by it into Repentance and better Principles. Perfidiousness itself will be put out of Countenance; and others who see such eminent Goodness, will be ashamed of any base Design, and effectually diverted from pursuing or projecting it. And of this Augustus hath given us a famous Instance, both as to the Prudential, and the Successful Part, in his Behaviour to Cinna, when engaged in a Conspiracy against him.   

SECT. VI Treasonable Practices.  
BY Treachery and Treasonable Practices, I understand a secret Attempt or Conspiracy, not against the Prince's own Person, or the Government in general, as the former Head was; but against some particular Post, or Place of Strength, or some distinct and less Body of Men. In this respect it differs from what went before; but they both agree in their Nature and Character of being secret and unforeseen Evils, extremely dangerous if they succeed, and as hard to be avoided or prevented. For the Traitor is commonly hid in a Crowd, in the very midst of the Party he designs to betray, or of the Fortification which he intends to make sale of, and deliver up into the Enemy's hand. The Persons most disposed to this abominable perfidious Trade, are the Covetous, the sickle and fond of Change, and the formal Dissemblers. And this Quality too they have, that they make a mighty Noise and Bustle with their Loyalty, are large in their Commendations of it; violently and unseasonably clamorous against all breach of Trust; superstitiously nice in Matters of little or no Consequence; and these Pretences and Extraordinary Affectations of Fidelity, by which they labour to conceal their Villainy, are really the best and surest Marks to discover and distinguish them by: For they are so natural to Men of such Principles, that any Man who knows what it is to overact a Part, cannot but find them out. Now the Directions proper for such Occasions, are for the most part the same with those in the former Case. Only in the Matter of Punishment indeed, this difference is to be made, That These Men ought to be made Examples immediately, to be dealt with after a very rigorous manner, and excluded from all Mercy: For they are Men of wretched; profligate, incorrigible Tempers, the Bane and Pest of Mankind; no Reformation is to be expected from them; and therefore since Pity is lost, as to all hopes of doing Good upon the Offenders themselves, it is necessary they should be cut off for the Sake and Safety of others.   

SECT. VII. Disorders and Popular Insurrections.  
OF these I reckon several Sorts, according as the Causes which provoke and kindle these Combustions, the Persons concerned in them, the Manner and the Continuance of the Disorders, differ. The Variety whereof will appear more evidently, by treating in the following Sections of Factions and Combinations, Seditions, Tyranny, Rebellion, and Civil Wars. But at present I shall insist upon the plainest and most generally received Notion of the Word; for such Rise of the People, as proceed from some present Heat, and are only a Tumult soon up and soon down again.  
The Prescriptions proper for this Distemper are, To draw them, if possible, to a Parley; to try if they can be prevailed with to hear Reason; and in case they will suffer themselves to be argued with; Then to expostulate and remonstrate things fairly, by the Interposition of some Person of established Reputation, eminent Virtue, powerful Eloquence, and skilled in Address; One whose Gravity and Industry, and Authority may be sufficient to gain upon them, and soften the Fury, even of an incensed Rabble. For at the Presence of a Person thus qualified, they will presently be Thunderstruck, and all he says will gain credit, and make its own way through them.  

* 
Veluti magno in populo cum saepe coorta est  
Seditio, saevitque animis ignobile vulgus;  
Jamque faces & saxa volant; furor arma ministrat.  
Tum pietate gravem ac mentis, si forte virum quem  
Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus astant;  
Ille regit dictis animos, & pectora mulcet.  Virgil.  As when in Tumults rise th' ignoble Crowd,  
Swift are their Motions, and their Tongues are loud;  
And Stones and Brands in rattling Volleys fly,  
And all the Rustic Arms that Fury can supply.  
If then some Grave and Pious Man appear,  
They hush their Noise, and lend a listening Ear;  
He soothes with sober Words their angry Mood,  
And quenches their innate Desire of Blood.  Mr. Dryden. 
It may not be amiss upon some Occasions for the Prince himself to appear among them; but then he must take great Care in what manner this be done: He must have a serene and free Countenance, an Air of Gaiety and Assurance, a Soul at perfect Liberty, and free from all Apprehension of Death or Danger, and ready prepared to entertain the worst Treatment that can possibly happen to him. For, to show himself with a Face full of Fear and Distrust, to descend to Flatrery and mean Remonstrances, is beneath a Prince's Character: It makes him cheap and contemptible, encourages the Insolence of the People, and does but inflame instead of appeasing their Rage. This therefore was done, exactly as aught to be, by Caesar, who, when his Legions were in a Mutiny, and risen up in Arms against him, is described in the midst of them thus: 

† 
— Stetit aggere fulti  
Cespitis intrepidus vultu, meruitque timeri  
Nil metuens— mdash;  Lucan. — On the Top  
Of a Turf Mount stands Caesar fearless up,  
Deserving Dread by his undaunted Look.   
The same Account in effect does Tacitus give of Augustus, composing the Discontents of his Legions at Actium. So that upon the whole Matter there are two ways of managing the Mobb, and quieting them when they run into Tumults and riotous Insurrections. The best and bravest is that of the Prince himself quieting them; but This (as I observed) is a nice Undertaking, and had much better be waved, if he have not an absolute Mastery over his Passions, and be not in all Points qualified for the managing it dexterously. The other, which is more usual, and more seasible, is to do it by another hand; and here a greater Latitude may be allowed, than the Majesty of a Monarch can admit of. Flattery, and Cajolling, and all the Arts of Mollifying, are the proper Applications; for Stiffness and open Force will do nothing; and the more you oppose the Torrent, the higher and louder it grows. The many-headed Beast is in this regard like all other Wild ones, which are never to be tamed with Blows and Beating, but may be brought to hand by soothing and gentle Usage. And therefore an Agent should never spare for good Words, and fair Promises, since these are the most successful Artifices upon those Occasions. Nay some Philosophers and wise Men have allowed such Mediators to be liberal, even at the expense of Truth; and think that the Folly and Madness of an incensed Multitude, may as innocently be amused with Fables and Fictions, as the Simplicity of Children, and the Frenzies of Feverish Men are with idle Stories and Promises, that are never intended to be made good. Pericles had a wonderful Knack at this I eading the People at Pleasure; he held them fast by the Eyes, the Ears, the Belly; entertained them with Shows, and Plays, and Feasts; and then made them do whatever he had a mind to. This, I confess, is much the meaner Method of the Two; There is something in it servile and ignoble; but those Punctilios must be laid aside, where Necessity gives a Dispensation. But then they are only sit for some Deputy, or Agent, and can never be Condescensions becoming a Prince in his own Person. And thus we see Menenius Agrippa managed the Matter, when delegated from the Senate to the Commoners of Rome. But, if such a one pretends to act with a high Hand, and expects to reduce People when they fly out, and break through all the Restraints of Reason and Duty, without making any Concessions, or offering any Terms of Accommodation, as Appius, and Coriolanus, and Cato, and Photion did; this is a very idle Attempt, and must succeed accordingly.   

SECT. VIII. Faction and Combinations.  
BY Factions and Combinations, I mean the Divisions and Bandings together of Subjects against one another; and These may differ both in Quality and Number; as the Persons concerned are Great and Wealthy, or of a meaner Fortune and Condition, or as the Clans and Parties are each of them more or less numerous. This sometimes proceeds from private Piques and Grudges, which have grown and been cherished between single Persons, or are perpetuated and made hereditary to whole Families; but the usual and more frequent Original of it is Ambition and Emulation, that Bane of Society and Government, which sets the World on Fire, by kindling in every one a desire of aspiring to the highest and most honourable Post. The Divisions, which happen between Persons of Eminence, and the first Quality, are by much the more dangerous and destructive to the Commonwealth. Some indeed there have been, who set up for Politicians, and pretend, that these disagreeing Parties are of great Service and Convenience to the Public; and that a Prince by this means is safer, and better supported, as Cato was of Opinion, that the Authority of Masters in private Families was secured by the Discords and Quarrels of their Servants. But This seems a Notion too refin'd and far-fetched; and we may venture to say, there are but a few Cases in which the Observation holds good. It may be true with regard to Tyrants and lawless Governors, to whom nothing is so formidable as the good Agreement of their Subjects; because such a general Understanding may tend to unite them against their common Oppressor: It may hold too in slight and inconsiderable Factions, such as the Quarrels and Competitions betwixt one City and another; or betwixt Ladies at Court, who pretend to set up for Intelligence, and underhand Interests: But in any Combinations of Consequence, and in Governments well constituted, and duly administered, it is manifestly false. It is of infinite Concern, and absolute Necessity, that, in such Circumstances, all making of Parties should be checked, and Faction crushed in the very Egg. All their Distinctions, the Names they go by, the Dress or Badges by which they know one another, and all the Foppery of that kind, utterly discountenanced and put down. For even Trifles of this Nature have sometimes laid the Seeds, and been the first Beginnings of prodigious and unconceivable Mischiefs. Witness the miserable Combustion, and horrid Murders, which Zonaras tells us, happened in Constantinople by the Persons who distinguished themselves by wearing Blue and Green, in the Reign of Justinian. And accordingly all Clubs or private Cabals that tend to the promoting such Divisions, should be carefully dispersed, and strictly forbidden.  
The Counsel I have to give upon such Accidents, is briefly This. If the Faction happen between two Peers, or Persons otherwise of Consideration and Character in the State, the Prince will do well to bring them to a better Understanding by fair Means, and good Words; or if That do not succeed, by laying his positive Commands, and threatening the Party who refuses to be reconciled, with his Displeasure, and other severe Penalties upon his Disobedience. And this Course we find taken by Alexander the Great, to compose the Difference between Hephestion and Craterus; and by Archidamus with Two of his Friends. If they still stand out, it may be proper to nominate some Arbitrator between them; and This a Person liable to no just suspicion of Partiality; no way interested or prejudiced, for or against either of the Parties. And this will also be a very good Expedient to end the Disputes, and settle the Pretensions controverted on both sides between greater Numbers of Subjects, or between Cities, or Societies of Men. If it be requisite, that the Prince himself interpose, let this by all means be done with the Assistance of Counsel, that so the Odium of the Thing may be taken off from himself, and those who suffer in the determination, may have no Foundation for Resentment. For the Counsel of Princes serves to this and many other Purposes, as well as for Direction; and it is Prudence to call them together, and act with and by them, in a very solemn manner, in sundry Instances, where there arises nothing of Difficulty, that can deserve the Formality of a Debate. If the Faction be among Persons of meaner Circumstances, but so, that great Numbers are engaged in it; or if it grow too strong to be composed by gentler Methods, and the Course of Civil Justice, the Prince must then have recourse to his last Remedy, and extinguish it by Force. But in this way of quelling it especially, he must take good heed not to discover any particular Inclination to one side above the other. For This is very Ominous, and many Kings have lost themselves by their unreasonable Partialities. They are the common Fathers of their whole Country; and it is unworthy the Dignity of that Relation, as well as beneath the Majesty of their Character, to make Distinctions, and be of a Party themselves. They must be Friends to All their Subjects; not side with Some, and by making their Quarrels their 〈◊〉 suffer themselves to become Enemies, and in effect denounce War against Others. We easily see the the Indecorum of such Proceed, when the Master of a Family debases himself to take part with one Servant against another; for what is this indeed but to become a Fellow-Servant too, and to forget that both the Contending Parties are under his Jurisdiction? But sure the Absurdity is more monstrous in Princes, when they forget that all the Subjects are their own; and therefore the Superior hath nothing to do but to deal Justice with an even hand between Them, who are equal to one another, but can never be so to Him. Once more: In all the  Cases, 'tis best, if the Discontents can be quieted, and Controversies decided, without making any public Examples; because Suffering exasperates, and many angry Remembrances will remain, and rise up hereafter. But if there be a necessity of Punishing, this should be confined to as few as may be; and It sufficiently vindicates the Honour of the Prince, and answers the End of the Penalty very well; if some of the Ringleaders, who were first and most active in creating the Disturbance, be made to smart severely, and all the rest be dismissed with the Impressions which such a Mixture of Severity and Goodness will naturally leave upon them.   

SECT. IX. Sedition.  
SEdition is a violent Commotion of the People against the Prince, or some of the Magistrates in subordination to him. The Causes of it are commonly Oppression and Fear. For Those, who have been guilty of some high. Misdemeanour, are afraid of being brought to the Punishment they deserve; Others are jealous of their Privileges and Properties, and imagine, that the Government designs to invade and run them down. And both these sorts of Men are so strongly possessed with the Apprehensions of approaching Ruin, that they think the only way to save themselves, is by striking the first Blow. It also proceeds very often from too great Indulgence, Extravagance and Debauchery, Necessity, and extreme Scarcity of Money, or want of other indispensable Supports of Human Life. So that the Persons who seem of all others to be cut out for this Trade, are your Spendthrifts and Bankrupts, Indigent and Uneasy, Fickle and Lovers of Novelty; and all those Lewd and Profligate Wretches, who lie under the Lash of the Law, or at least are obnoxious to, and afraid of Justice. These several sorts of Men cannot continue quiet long: Peace is by no means for their purpose, but every whit as great a Calamity to Them, as War is to the rest of Mankind: They never sleep sweetly but in the midst of a Riot; and the Liberty they  upon is Licentiousness and Confusion. The better to bring their Matters to bear, they contrive private Conferences, and send abroad their wicked Instruments to poison the World; make loud and grievous Complaints, scatter secret and vile Insinuations, at first in doubtful and suspicious Words, but afterwards in virulent and open Defamations of the Government; set up for Patriots, and pretend a mighty Zeal for Liberty and Property; profess the Public Good to be their only Hope and End, and promise to redress the People's Grievances; These are constantly some of the Masks, put on to cover their Villainy, and thus they draw Numbers after them, who for want of discerning better, and seeing through their Hypocrisy, swallow the bitter Pill thus guilded over.  
Now the Remedies and Directions proper for such an Exigence of Affairs as this, are first of all such as have been already insisted upon, in the Section of Popular Insurrections and Tumults; that is, To draw them to a Parley, to have Matters truly represented, and so make them sensible of their Error, and the Unreasonableness of their Complaints and Discontents; and all this to be done by the Mediation of Persons, whose unquestionable Credit and Character may render such a Negotiation successful. But if This do not succeed, the second thing must be for a Prince to take Arms, and strengthen himself against their Violence; yet so as not to be rash and hasty upon them, but to proceed slowly and with much Deliberation; that they may have Warning and Time to recollect and qualify the Fierceness and Heat of their Passions; and so the ill Men among them, by thinking better, may return to their Duty; and those who are harmless, and good, may desert their Seducers, and unite with the right side. For Time is a most excellent Physician, and seldom fails to allay and cure the common People, who are much more disposed to quarrel, and be mutinous, than they are to come to Blows in good earnest. 
* Ferocior Plebs ad rebellandum quàm bellandum: tentare magis quàm tueri Libertatem.  The Mobb (says a wise Historian) are furious and eager to rebel, but tame and poor-spirited in a regular Fight; and much better at making a push to stretch their Liberty, than at the lawful defence of it. A Third Expedient is, to be tampering with them all this while, and try to divide and dissettle their Minds 
† Spem ofter, metum intend.  by Hope and Fear; for these are the Two Passions that spur them on, and therefore these must be wrought upon to bring them off. And therefore a Wise Governor will be sure to be liberal both of his Promises and Threaten, that so these Passions may not want Matter enough to feed upon; but then Care must be taken too, that they be so tempered, as neither to encourage Presumption, nor drive to Despair. A Fourth Remedy is, to sow Divisions among them, and break their Correspondence, by making them Jealous, and Dissatisfied at one another. A Fifth will be, To get some of the Party over by secret Service, inviting them with Promises, and Pensions, and privately rewarding what they privately do for your Advantage. And these Persons thus gained, are to be disposed in several Posts. Some of them should be drawn quite off, and come over to you, to weaken and intimidate them; Others should be still left behind to do your Business there, by giving Advice of all their Motions, and communicating their Intentions and Designs; by laying them asleep by false Securities, and watching all Opportunities to qualify their Fury. Then, Sixthly, Those who cannot be got thus far, and are still obstinate, should be cajoled by granting some part of what they demand, and giving them expectation of more; all which the expert Politicians will tell you, should be by large Promises, worded cunningly, that so the Ambiguity of the Expressions may leave room for a colourable Evasion afterwards: For a Prince may easily, when he sees fit, revoke that which hath been extorted from him, and justly deny, what Injustice hath compelled him to give hopes of obtaining. This is Casuistical Policy at least; but the only way to make it go down well with the People, is to varnish all over with Gentleness and Clemency, and to make them some Amends by Indulgences of another kind, for those Concessions, which without manifest Prejudice to his Prerogative and Government, he cannot but recede from. Lastly, If they shall return to a better Sense of Things, and act agreeably to Reason and their Duty, they should be dealt with tenderly; and a Prince may very well content himself with chastising some few of the first Authors, and principal Incendiaries, without giving himself the Trouble so much as to inquire after all the Accomplices; but managing the ●●st so, that they shall have reason to think themselves secure in his Pardon and Favour.   

SECT. X. Tyranny and Rebellion.  
BY Tyranny we are to understand an Arbitrary, Lawless Government, a Domineering over the Subjects with Violence and Rigour, without regard had to the Rules or Measures of Power, or the Customs and Privileges of the Country. This is frequently the Cause of public Disturbances, and general Discontents, which by degrees grow up into Rebellion. And Rebellion is a Rising of the People against their Prince, provoked by his Tyrannical and unjust Oppressions, with a design to dethrone, and drive him from his Royal Post. So that Rebellion differs from Sedition in This, that it no longer acknowledges, or submits to the Prince as a Master and Governor; whereas Sedition does not go so far; but is dissatisfied with the Administration, and aims not at changing the Person, but his Measures, and the Reformation of what it conceives amiss. Now the Persons, who thus degenerate into Tyranny, are Men of base Dispositions, cruel in their Temper, Lovers and Encouragers of wicked and turbulent People, and Mischievous Pickthank Slaves, Parasites and Sycophants, and doers of ill Offices. But for Persons of Honour and Virtue, they have an inward Dread and Aversion. 
* Quibus semper aliena Virtus sormidolosa; Nobilitas, Opens, gestique Honores pro crimine habentur; ob Virtutes certissimum exitium; & non minus ex magnâ famâ quam malâ.  The Virtue and good Qualities of deserving Persons, (says one) is formidable to them; Noble Blood, and Power and Interest, Honours and Offices of Trust well discharged, are looked upon as Criminal, Worth and Honesty is their certain Ruin; and a great and good Name as dangerous under such Governors, as a scandalous and vile Character.  
But these Tyrants are generally punished to purpose, and as they deserve; for they are hated and detested, looked upon as common Enemies; they live in perpetual Terrors and Apprehensions of the Revenge they have provoked; every thing is suspected and dreaded, and they never think themselves safe; their own Consciences turn their Executioners, and all within is Scourges, and Racks, and Tortures; and at last they come to infamous and untimely Deaths; for the World hath seldom seen a Tyrant live to the fullness of Age, or die after the manner of common Men.  
The Directions and Remedies proper for this Case, are largely insisted upon in another place. And the Sum of them may be reduced to these Two Points. First, To hinder a Tyrant from getting the Power absolutely into his own Hands, and oppose his Government at the first; but if this be not done, and he be actually possessed of it, then to bear and submit as well as we can. For, generally speaking, there is nothing got by Opposition, 
† Pejus deteriusque Tyrannide sive injusto imperio Bellum .  a Civil War being commonly a Remedy worse than the Disease; and the Miseries and Disorders of it are more intolerable than the Tyranny and Oppression it undertakes to redress. For the being restiff in such Cases, does but exasperate the Cruelty of a Prince, and make that Disposition in him, which was bad before, ten times worse. 
* Nihil tam exasperat fervorem vulneris quàm ferendi impatientia.  Nothing (says Plutarch) inflames a Sore, so much as Impatience under the Pain of it. Modesty, and Submission, and Compliance with hard and rigorous Commands, have something of a softening Quality in them, which usually rebates the fiercest and most furious Dispositions. For, as Alexander the Great observed very truly, The Gentleness and good Temper of a Prince depends not altogether upon his own Humour, but in some measure upon that of his Subjects too; for They sometimes by their Sauciness and ill Language, by Stubbornness and perverse Behaviour, corrupt and sour their Governors, and make them quite other Men than Nature had made them. 
† Obsequio mitigantur imperia; & contrà, Contumacia inferiorum lenitatem imperantis diminuit; Contumaciam cum pernicie, quam obsequium cum securitate malunt.  Men make Government easy, and secure themselves good Treatment by Obedience; and on the other hand, Insolence and Refractoriness in Subjects takes off from the Mildness and good Nature of a Prince: And this is the Misfortune, that the People had rather be peremptory and Disobedient at the hazard of their own ruin, than obey quietly, and live securely.   

SECT. XI. Civil Wars.  
THE several public Disorders hitherto treated of, are but crude and imperfect; the Beginnings of Evils, and as it were Matter void of Form. But when Riot, or Faction, or Sedition, or Rebellion is come to its full Maturity and Strength, when it hath all the Perfection it is capable of, and continues any time; than it Commences, and is called Civil War. For this is nothing else, but the taking up of Arms by Subjects, either against one another, which is the Case of the two Former; or else against the Prince or Magistrate, and then it is one of the two latter. Now there is not in the World a more Calamitous, more scandalous Circumstance. It is not indeed a single, but a complicated Evil, an Ocean of Evils. And a wise Author says very truly, that it cannot with any propriety of Speech be styled a War, but is rather the Sickness, the Fever and Frenzy of the State. The wretched Authors of it, whoever they be, aught to be swept away from the Land of the Living, and driven immediately, and without Mercy, from among Men. All manner of Wickedness is born and cherished under it; Impiety and Cruelty reign without control; all Obligations of Humanity and Friendship are dissolved; and the nearest Ties of Blood and Natural Affection, broken and utterly lost. Murder, and Confusion, and Rapine cease to be Vices. 
* 
Occidere palam, Ignoscere non nisi fallendo licet. Non Aetas, non Dignitas quenquam protegit.  
Nobilitas cum plebe perit, latèque vagatur  
Ensis.—   Men have then licence to be barbarous, and kill with Authority in the Face of the Sun; but Pity and Mercy are practised only by stealth. No Age, no Quality can give any Man protection; but all Distinctions of Person and Condition are laid aside. 
The reeking Sword pours out a Crimson Flood,  
And mingles Noble with Plebeian Blood.  Laws and Orders are quite out of Doors, and all Discipline utterly abolished. 
† In omne fas nefasque avidos, aut venales, non sacro, non profano abstinentes.  Men fly greedily at all, and are mercenary in Villainy; they make no difference between Things Sacred and Common, but all are made a Prey alike. The mean and vulgar are upon the Level with the best and greatest, and the Peasant Hail Fellow with the Prince. 

⁂ 
— Rheni mihi Caesar in undis  
Dux erat; hic socius, Facinus quos inquinat, aequat.  Lucan. l. 5. — He was our General  
I'th' Germane Wars; Here we are Fellows All.  
Whom Treason soils, it makes of equal State.  May. Persons in Authority dare not interpose, nor take upon them what is due to their Birth and Condition; for He, who is embarked in the same Design, must not reprove his Companion in Wickedness. So dreadful is the Confusion where even the 
* Obnoxiis Ducibus, & prohibere non ausis.— mdash; mdash; Metu ac necessitate huc illuc mutantur.  Commanders themselves are liable to the same Condemnation; and every Thing, and every Man driven to and fro by Fear and Necessity. In a Word, This is Misery in the very Abstract. And the very Victory itself is full of Misery; For supposing the best of the Matter, that Success falls on the side of Right and Justice, yet this renders the Conqueror insolent and furious; transports him to Barbarity and Rage, tho' otherwise of a Temper never so Human and Gentle; so scandalous are the very Triumphs of a Civil War; so apt to flesh even a good Man in Cruelty and Blood; so certain to poison, nay to extinguish the Softnesses of Human Nature. And if we could imagine the Commanders not to have lost all the Remains of it, yet it will not be in their Power to restrain those under their Care, from their execrable Villainies.  
Now there are two Causes of Civil Wars, which offer themselves to our Consideration. The one is Secret and Mysterious, such as we cannot see through, nor come to any distinct Understanding of, and consequently not in the power of Man to prevent, or to cure; A certain Fatality; I mean, the Will and Decree of Almighty God, by which he sees fit to take Vengeance, and inflict this heaviest of Punishments upon the Sins of a Nation; or not only to chastise, but utterly overturn and exterminate a disobedient and rebellious People. 

* 
In se magna ruunt, laetis hunc Numina rebus  
Crescendi posuere modum.—  Lucan. l. 1.  Things to their Acme come, in course of Fate grow less;  
And States too big for Foes, themselves oppress.   
The Other is sufficiently visible to Wise Men, as a sure Prognostic of Future Evils, and such, as if Men would give their Minds to, it might easily be remedied; especially if Those who sit at the Helm would show themselves diligent and vigorous in the Application. And this is a general Corruption and Looseness of Manners, Remissness in Discipline, and want of executing good and wholesome Laws for the containing all sorts of People in their respective Duties. Hence the Vilest and Resuse of the People take Advantage; and Men of desperate Fortunes, who have no other Game to play, hope to find their Account, by putting all into Confusion. For, either they raise themselves upon other Men's Ruins, and heal their own Extravagances by fishing in troubled Waters; or at least they cover their own private in the Crowd of public Misfortunes. For, where a Man hath nothing left to lose, it is some Mitigation to his Affliction, that it is general, and he does not fall alone. So the wise Historian Observes; 
* Miscere cuncta & privata vulnera Reipublicae malis operire. Nam ita se res habet, ut publicâ ruinâ quisque malit quam suâ proteri; & idem passurus minus conspici.  That the Profuse and the Turbulent, shelter themselves under a Common Calamity; and there is a kind of Malicious Comfort in the Nature of most Men, that makes them better contented to be crushed in the Common Ruin, than to perish alone. For though a Man's own Sufferings be equal in either Case; yet they are less taken notice of, and cannot be distinguished, when he suffers in a great deal of Company.  
Now, the Advice fit to be given in this Extremity, is, To make the quickest End that such a War is capable of; and for this there can be but two Ways; Treaty and Agreement, or Victory. The former is certainly the better, even though attended with some Hardship and Inconvenience, and short of those Advantageous Terms we desire: For when once those tumultuous Proceed are quieted, Time will do the rest for us. And a Man will do well sometimes to suffer himself to be imposed upon, when he is so largely paid for his Loss. As it was said of Antipater, 
† Bellum sinire cupienti opus erat decipi.  That it was necessary to cheat him into a Peace, to gratific his Inclination when he was eager to put an end to the War. Victory is a very dangerous Conclusion, though a Successful one. For there is great reason to sear the abuse of it, and that the gaining such an Advantage may inspire Inclinations to Tyranny, and Oppression, and put mighty opportunities into a Prince's Hands, of ruling those he hath subdued Arbitrarily and by Force, that so they may be effectually kept under ever after. But, to make sure Work, it is necessary for a Prince to rid his Hands of the Principal Actors and Instigators of these Confusions; and such as he perceives to be Turbulent and Bloody-minded Men; without Regard to which Side they were of; for such Dispositions are always unsafe to be trusted. And This may be done conveniently enough under some fair Pretence of employing them in remoter Parts, or sending them abroad into foreign Service; or else by dividing them, and breaking their Correspondence; or keeping them in play against a Common Enemy; and then, for the Prevention of any Discontents for the Time to come, to use the Common People well; and grant them all reasonable Indulgence; passing over what is already done by an Act of Oblivion, and ministering no just Occasion of Jealousy, but making his Government as easy as possible, in the preservation of their Rights and Privileges for the future.   

SECT. XII. Advice for Private Persons, how they should behave themselves in any of the forementioned Divisions.  
YOU have now taken a short View of the several sorts of Calamities and Confusions, to which the State is Obnoxious, and heard the Directions proper for each of them, so far as the Prince himself is concerned; it remains now in the last Place, to consider what Deportment will be proper and prudent for Persons in a private Capacity, when any of these Troubles and Difficulties shall happen. Now this cannot be dispatched under any one general Topick; because there are Two Scruples concerning it to be resolved; The One, whether it be lawful and sit for an honest and good Man, to fall in, and take the Part of some side or other in these Divisions; or whether he should rather keep himself quiet and sit still. The Other, what sort of Behaviour is advisable in either Case, that is, whether he do, or do not interess himself in the Quarrel.  
As to the former of these Two Questions; It is propounded for the Satisfaction of such, as are Lose and at their own Disposal, without any Engagements upon them, which should determine them to either Party. For if they are already under any Obligations, This first Query does not in any Degree concern them; They are got beyond it already, and all the Doubts for Them to entertain, must receive Satisfaction from the Second Question. I insert this Caution by the way, because it frequently falls out, that a Man is staked down, as it were, to one party, almost whether he will or no. For, though he may not make it any part of his Choice and Design, nay, though, in his own Private Judgement, he cannot but disapprove it; yet in despite of Intention, Inclination, and Good Sense, he may find himself involved and entangled, by some Considerations so Powerful, that he cannot with any Decency break through them: And these being such Bands, as Nature hath tied him up in, or such as Counterbalance all Motives to the contrary, will at least carry a sufficient Excuse, for his doing as he does. Now, this first Question hath several Arguments pro and con; and abundance of eminent Instances might be produced, of Persons who have behaved themselves directly contrary to each other with regard to it. So that differing Judgements and Authorities, as well as different Reasons, minister just ground of Scruple in the Case. The Resolutions, which seem to me most convenient to be come to, according to the different Circumstances of the Persons concerned in this Debate, are such as follow.  
On the one Hand, Nothing seems more agreeable to the Character of a Wise and a Good Man, than to have nothing at all to do with the Follies and Factions of the World; and therefore such a one cannot do better than to stand by, and let them try it out by themselves. Especially too, if we consider, what Account hath already been given of these Divisions, how irregular and unlawful they are in their own Nature and first Causes; what Wickedness, Barbarity, and Injustice of all sorts they engage Men in. That these are inseparable Attendants of such practices, and it is not possible to have any hand in them, and continue Innocent; I say, If all these Considerations be fairly laid together, it scarce looks any longer like a Matter of free Choice, what a Man may, or may not do; but seems rather a Point of Duty, than of bare Allowance and Permission, absolutely to decline any Concern in them. And accordingly it appears that several excellent Persons have had so great an abhorrence of these Things, and such a Sense of the Personal Obligations they violate, that no Considerations could prevail with them to come in; particularly Asinius Pollio, who, the Historian tells us, 
Velleius, lib. 3.  excused himself for these very Reasons to Agustus, when he entreated his Company and Assistance in the Expedition against Mark Anthony.  
But then on the other Hand, What shall we say to those Reasons, which enforce our Obligation, to take part with good Men, to protect and strengthen such, as much as in us lies, and to defend Equity and Right, against all that oppose, and encroach upon it? The Great Solon was so strongly possessed in Favour of these Engagements, that he is for inflicting very severe Punishments, upon Them that affect Ease and Obscurity, and refuse to appear and act openly in such Exigencies of State. And that rigid Professor of Virtue, Cato governed himself by this Rule; for he did not only declare, and come into One Party in the Civil Wars of Rome, but took a Command among the Mal● contents under Pompey.  
Now, if we would know, what Measures are fit to be taken, where Judgements are so divided, and Reasons probable and plausible enough for each to allege in his own Justification; my poor Opinion is This: For Persons of Eminence and Character in the World; such as are in public Trust, or great Reputation, or extraordinary Abilities, and are known to be leading and significant Men in the State, These I conceive not only may fall into that Side, which they in their Conscience think the best; but, so far as I am able to discern, they are bound to do it: For he is a very ill Pilot, that steers the Ship in calm and favourable Wether, and runs away from the Helm, when it grows Foul and Stormy: What shall become of the Vessel, if the best Hands let her drive, when there is the greatest Need of Working her, and keeping her tied? These Gentlemen ought, in Extremities especially, to stand in the Gap, and act like Men of Honour; the Care of the Government is upon them, and its Safety or Ruin lies at the Door. But then, for Persons in a private Capacity, such as make none at all, or but very inconsiderable Figure in the Government, These are more at their own Liberty. For as their Condition supposes all the Assistance they can contribute, to be of no mighty consequence, so the withholding that Assistance can do no great Damage: And therefore they may be allowed to retire into some Place of Security, and seek their own Ease and Quiet, at a Distance, from the Noise and Clutter of the contending Parties. But then both these kind of Men, those that do, and those that do not declare, lie under an Obligation to demean themselves, in such manner as I am going to prescribe. In the mean while I add thus much only upon the present Subject, concerning those who are disposed to come in and act: That in the choosing what Party they should side with, sometimes the Case is so plain, that it is almost impossible they can be mistaken. For where the Injustice of the Cause, and other Disadvantages are so evident, that they look one full in the Face, and forbidden him; no Man of common Sense will go in thither. But it often happens, that there are Reasons on both Sides; Each pretends Right and Justice; and each hath Advantages to invite us; and then the Difficulty of coming to a Resolution is very great; because a Man must not only weigh the Arguments on both Sides, and settle the Point of Right and Wrong first; but he hath several other Considerations to attend to, such as may and aught to carry some Weight with them, though they have not immediately respect to the Justice of the Cause.  
And now it may be Seasonable to proceed to the other Part of this Advice; which relates to the Behaviour of the Persons under these several Capacities. To all which, I might satisfy myself with prescribing in one Word, Moderation and Temper; that they would particularly take Atticus for their Pattern, whose Name hath been so much celebrated for his Prudence and Modesty in the midst of that boisterous Age, in which he lived; One, who was always believed in his Judgement to favour the right Side, and respected by all good Men for doing so; but yet one, who behaved himself so Prudently and Inoffensively, that he never involved himself in the Common Confusions, nor drew down the Displeasure of ill Men, or any Inconvenience from that Party, who were sensible enough, he did not approve their Proceed.  
But, to be a little more particular; and first, for Them who openly declare themselves; It is certain, that These aught by no Means to be violent, or betray indecent Heats and Passions in their Conversation; but carry themselves Modestly and Decently, and reserve their Warmth for times of Action, or till some very just Occasion happens to call for it. They should not be Pert, nor Forward, nor Officiously thrust themselves upon Business, till they are required, and in some measure importuned; nay, compelled to it: For in such Circumstances no Man can be active without Odium; and therefore it is sufficient that we obey our Call, and follow Duty, without being so eager, as to run before it, and start of our own accord. But when we are called, and must act, than we should take Care to render the Execution of our Duty as little invidious as may be; to do all with such Temper and Tenderness, that the Storm may fly over our Heads, and no angry Resentments, or infamous Reflections remain behind; never inflaming, or in any Degree encouraging, much less allowing ourselves in the Commission of those abominable Outrages and Insolences, usual upon such Occasions; but employing our utmost endeavour to mollify and sweeten Men; to divert them from Injurious and Disorderly Methods; and by all imaginable Arts trying to elude and break all Designs of this Nature.  
Those who have not declared themselves openly by actually engaging in any Party (whose Circumstances with regard to the Easiness and Tranquillity of them are without doubt much to be preferred before the former.) Those, I say, who have given the World no visible and authentic Testimony of their Affections to one or other Party, (though at the same time they may in their Own Breasts be much more inclined, and wish better to the one than the other;) ought not to continue in a State of absolute Neutrality. My Meaning is, that they should not express a perfect Indifference how Matters go, and have no Solicitude beyond their own private Affairs; for This is to sit like Spectators at a Playhouse, and entertain themselves with the Tragical Misfortunes of other People; which is a Coldness highly Criminal, where the Peace and Welfare of our Country lie at Stake. Such regardless Men as these, are justly detested by all Sides; and if their own Personal Safety be what they aim at, the Imagination is very vain; for no sort of People run a greater Risque, nor are worse treated than They. We see what was the Fate of Thebes in the War with Xerxes, 
Judg. 21.8.  and of the Inhabitants of Jabesh Gilead, in the time of the Israclitish Judges. Livy hath observed very justly to this Purpose, that 
* Neutralitas nec Amicos parit, nec Inimicos tollit.  Neutrality never makes one Friend the more, nor one Enemy the less. It is indeed neither just nor becoming, and can never look well, or be so, except with Allowance of the Parties concerned. We see therefore what different Measures the Two great Roman Generals took in this Respect. Caesar declared that he took it for granted, all that stood Neuter, were His Friends; Pompey declared he looked upon all such as His Enemies. In a Stranger indeed this is very allowable; for he is under no Obligation to meddle in the Concerns of a Country that is none of his own; and so it is likewise in Persons, whose Eminent Character and Quality may make it beneath them to become Parties, in such Differences, which they ought rather to be addressed to us Umpires, and Mediators to determine.  
Nor may Men; much less indeed may they show themselves sickle and inconstant; sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other; changing their Shape like Proteus, and in the worst Sense of the Words, becoming All things to all Men. These are Mongrels, and as such an odious and despicable Breed; worse than the former, who continue in a State of Neutrality; and more offensive to All, while they make it their Business, to please and be more agreeable to All. For every man ought to act upon Principles, and to stick to something.  
But, though Men ought to incline to one side in their Wishes and Affections, because Wishes and Affections are entirely our own; yet in their Actions and Deportment the Case is otherwise; these are what others have some Right and Interest in; and therefore, so far as relates to Conversation, these aught to be extended to all Parties in Common. There is a Title antecedent to all these accidental Differences and Divisions, which they cannot disannul; and therefore we are bound to be offensive, injurious, rude and unconversable to none; but to do Offices of Kindness, and Courtesy, and common Humanity to every Body, notwithstanding any Contrariety of Interests and Opinions. And thus far at least all should agree, to lament, and, as much as in them lies, to heal the public Breaches and Misfortunes. Such Persons secure themselves from all the Inconveniences mentioned before; they create no new Enemies, and they lose none of their old Friends. These are Persons of a Temper fit to be employed as Mediators, and the most likely of any to succeed in bringing Matters to a fair and amicable Composition; which Those who endeavour, do yet better, and are more serviceable, than They who content themselves with Expressions of Courtesy and common Friendship, to Men of all Parties indifferently. So then; It appears upon the whole Matter, that there may be Four sorts of Persons, who are not actually engaged in any Party; Two of which are , and these are the Neuters or Indifferent, and the Veering or Unsteady; the other Two are useful and commendable; and These are the Conversable or Courteous to All without Distinction; and the Mediators in Order to Agreement; But still in each of these Kind's, One exceeds the other; the Inconstant Man exceeds in Blame above the Neuter; and the Mediator in Merit and Commendation above the Common Friend. Of those that declare and act openly, there are likewise Two sorts, with the same Differences, the Eager and Violent, and the Moderate and Well-tempered.   

SECT. XIII. Of Private Differences and Disorders.  
IT may very reasonably be expected, that I should not dismiss this Head of Prudence, without speaking to one very frequent Difficulty more; which is, How Men ought to behave themselves in the Quarrels or Misunderstandings of private Persons, and particular Families. And here One is to consider both what is most convenient for his own Affairs, and what can in reason be expected from him. If the Persons thus at Enmity be such as have no indispensable Tie upon him, he may very fairly keep in with them both; and tho' perhaps he cannot love, or approve of both alike, yet he may, and will do well, to be obliging and kind to both, and give just Offence to neither. It is great Imprudence in these Cases, to engage so far with One Side, that they shall expect to have us entirely to themselves, and think us bound in Honour and Friendship, to espouse all their Interests, and make all their Resentments our own: And therefore the better way will be to keep upon the Reserve; to be content with a moderate Share of their Favour and good Graces. To say nothing in their Company tending to the Matter in controversy; but to talk altogether of indifferent Things; or at least such as we personally know to be true, or are otherwise very well assured of: If we touch upon the Dispute, to say what may be for the Service of both, and may tend to their reconciliation, and better Understanding. But by no means submitting to that vile practice of reporting idle Stories, or groundless Surmises; or aggravating things that have some Foundation; or currying Favour by discommending or railing at the Adversary of Him with whom we converse. For Matters here ought to be carried with such an even Hand, that nothing should pass in Company with the one, which we would not speak, if the other were by; nay, that nothing should be said to the one, which we would not say to the other in his Turn too; allowing only for some little Alterations in the Forms and Manner of our Address; which the different Circumstances of the Persons, or the Relation or Authority we pretend to with them, or some other accidental Consideration, foreign to the Subject of the Quarrel itself, may render seasonable, and seem to require from us.     

Justice, the Second Cardinal Virtue.  

CHAP. V Of Justice in General.  
JUSTICE consists in rendering to every one whatsoever of Right belongs to him; 
What it is.  paying first to himself his Own Duty, and then to others Theirs. And, according to this Definition, it comprehends all manner of Duties and Offices, which each particular Person can be any way obliged to. Now these, as I hinted before, are of Two sorts, according to the Objects of them, which are Two: The First terminate in a Man's own Person; the Second in other People: All which in their utmost Latitude shall within the compass of that most extensive Command, which hath expressed the Substance and Sum of all Justice, in those very few, but significant Words, Thou shalt love thy Neighbour as thyself. For here it is very observable, that the Duty to others is put in the Second place; that the Love and Duty we own to ourselves is laid as the Groundwork upon which that to our Neighbour is superstructed, and the Model by which it is to be proportioned. For, as the old Hebrews, and not They only, but all the World use to say, Charity gins at home.  
The Beginning then, and Foundation of all Justice, is to be sought for within ourselves; 
Primitive and Original Justice.  and the most Ancient and Fundamental Right of all others, is that Dominion, which Reason hath over the Sensual part of us. A Man must be able to command and govern himself, before he can be qualified to exercise this Authority, in demanding Subjection from others. And this Government of one's Self consists in reserving to Reason the Power of bearing Sway, and keeping the Appetites under; reducing and restraining them to their just Measures and Degrees, and bowing their stubborn Necks, till they become flexible, and obedient to Discipline. The preserving our Souls in this Order and Posture, is what we may call, Primitive. Original, and Internal Justice, the most genuine, the brightest, and infinitely most beautiful, of any thing that goes by that Name. This Sovereignty and Dominion of the Rational, over that sensual and brutish part of the Soul, which is the Source of all our Passions, and by Them of all our Troubles and Disorders, hath been by some Authors not unfitly resembled to a Rider managing his Horse; keeping himself firm in the Saddle, and the Rein constantly in his Hand; by which he rules and turns the Beast under him at pleasure.  
To give an exact and nice Account of that Justice, 
Distinguished.  which goes abroad, and is exercised in our Deal with other People, it is necessary to observe first of all, that there are two sorts of it. The One Natural, Universal, Generous, and Brave, Rational and Philosophical; the Other in a great degree Artificial, Particular, Positive, and Political; contrived and cramped up, according as the Exigencies of particular Countries and Constitutions would allow it a larger, or have confined it to a narrower Compass. The Former of these is much the more regular and uniform, more firm and inflexible, clearer and fairer of the Two: But alas! it is antiquated and obsolete, capable of doing very little Service to the World, as it now stands. This occasioned that Complaint, 
* Veri Juris germanaeque Justitiae solidam & expressam essigiem nullam tenemus; umbris & imaginibus utimur.  That the Substance and express Image of true Right and Justice was long since fled and gone; and all we live by now, is only some faint Shadows, and imperfect Copies of that Original Representation, taken from the Life itself. These are like the first Sketches of a Night-piece; but they are such as Mankind must be contented with, since, tho' the Darkness of their Condition need a stronger Light, yet their present Infirmities cannot bear any thing so tightly bright. This is what they say of Polycletus' Rule, Inflexible, Unalterable. The other is more slack, and limber, and pliable; it comes to, and accommodates itself to the Necessities and the Weaknesses of Mankind, nay of the generality; and That to be sure is the worst and most ignorant part. This is a Leaden and a Lesbian Rule, a Nose of Wax, that bends into any Form, and may be wrought into any Figure; and indeed is bowed and changed perpetually, according to the different Exigencies and Circumstances of Time, and Place, and Person; the Posture of Affairs, and the variety of Accidents. This in case of necessity and convenience dispenses with, allows, nay approves of several things, which the other will not so much as connive at, but must absolutely condemn, and cannot admit upon any Consideration whatsoever. This establishes some Vices, and gives them not only the Countenance, but sometimes the Sanction of a Law; and rejects several Actions in themselves Innocent and Good, as unlawful and not to be practised. Natural Justice looks only at the Reason, the Equity, the Virtue, the Decency and Fitness of the thing: But Positive and Political Justice proceeds upon other sort of Considerations; it hath a great, I might almost say, principal Regard, to the Advantage, the Convenience; at least its main Aim and Business is to reconcile these two, and make Profit and Probity go Hand in Hand, and so mutually promote and assist each other. Since therefore This is the only kind, which the World is managed by, and the Design of the present Treatise is to reform Men's Manners, and to better them in such Points as are practicable, we will confine ourselves wholly to this latter sort. For it must needs be to very little purpose to insist upon the Former; of which there is nothing now but the Idea and bare Speculation left.  
Now this Justice at present in common use, 
Of Justice as now in use.  and that which is esteemed the Judge and Standard of Human Actions, is first of all Twofold, with regard to the Rules and Measures of it. The One is what we call Legal Justice, because it is bound up by the Terms and Letter of the Law; and this is that Rule which Magistrates and Judges are obliged to determine, and proceed by. If any Injury be, as there often is great Injury done or suffered by such Decisions, They who pass the Sentence are in no degree accountable for it; because their Business is not to make the Law, but to be governed by, and act according to the Law; and so there is no help, but they must take it, as it lies before them. The Other is termed Equitable Justice; and this hath a larger Range allowed it; it is not fettered up to Words and Syllables, but hath a Liberty left to consider the present Exigency, the Circumstances of the Person, the Hardships of his Case; and so can administer Relief, and determine the Point in Dispute, in a Latitude, not only beyond, but sometimes even above and contrary to the Letter of the Law. Or indeed, to speak more properly, This Equity overrules and manages the Law to the best Advantage, and directs it so, as to answer its proper End, by making the Execution of the Law agreeable to the Intention, and the Reasons of Enacting of it. Upon this account it is, that a Wise Man said very truly, That Laws and Justice were not sufficient of themselves, unless they fell into good Hands, and were justly and skilfully managed; that is, unless their Sentence proceed upon equitable Considerations. And this larger and freer way of Proceeding is the peculiar Province of the Supreme Judge; the Prince in Person, or those, who in the Construction and Practice of the Law, are commissioned by him for this purpose, and so equivalent in all they do to his own doing it. For his Authority is present, tho' his Person be not; and this is the more effectual, more powerful Presence of the Two.  
Again, if we descend to consider this Justice more particularly, there will another Division offer itself to us, with regard to the different Methods of Proceeding. One of which is called Commutative Justice, because it consists in buying and selling, bargaining, and all manner of Commerce; for the several kinds of This are reduced to that one general Practice, of trucking and bartering one thing for another. And this is the Justice in exercise among private Men; the Rule whereof is Arithmetical Proportions; for our Care is to make what we give and what we receive in exchange, of equal value. The other is Distributive Justice; and this is administered by the Public, in Rewards and Punishments: The Rule whereof is Geometrical Proportion; wherein an exact and nice Equivalent is not aimed at, nor just the Merit and Quality of the Fact, and nothing else attended to; but several other Considerations taken in: And the last Result of the whole Debate is this, What, upon a fair Computation of all Circumstances put together, is reasonable and fitting for the One to give, or to award; and for the Other to receive, or to suffer.  
Now this Justice at present in common use, 
No such thing as strict and true Justice in the World.  when it comes to be closely and critically examined, will be found to be no such thing, as strict and perfect Justice. For the Truth is, as I said before, Human Nature is not capable of such a thing; it is too refin'd for our gross Condition, and we cannot bear this, or any other thing in its abstracted Excellence or Purity. In all practicable Justice there is a Mixture of Injustice, Favour, and Rigour; Too much and too little; these, like the Alloy in our Coin, are properly called the Remedy; for such indeed they are to the corrupt and degenerate State of Mankind. There is no such thing as pute and true Standard current among us; that exact Mediocrity, which we can only form, and truly now can scarce form in our Imaginations. Hence proceed those Maxims of the Ancients, That he who designs to do Justice in the Gross, will find himself under an unavoidable Necessity to be unjust in the Retail; for no general Rule can be constantly obferved, but some particular Persons and Cases will find themselves aggrieved by it. And He, that will be just in great and important Occasions, must sometimes be unjust in those of less Consequence. These are Difficulties so well known, so generally felt and confessed, that in Matters of Commerce and Commutative Justice, some Lawgivers heretofore were forced, in order to the bringing the Business of Trade under some Rule, and restraining the Exorbitancies of it somewhere, to give leave for Men to cheat to some certain Degree, (as for instance, Not to exceed half of what the Commodity was really worth,) without being liable to the Law. And this they were forced to connive at, because they could fix it no better. Again, In the Case of Distributive Justice, How many innocent Persons are clapped up? How many guilty acquitted and released? And all this without any Corruption or Fault of the Judges? And to how much greater a Sum would this Account swell, if to unjust Condemnations and Acquittals, we should add the Excesses and Defects in Punishments, how much more or less hath been awarded, than the Sufferer really deserved? For This is almost the constant daily Failure, even where Justice is administered with the cleanest Hands, and most unblemished Integrity of Heart. Justice indeed perplexes and hinders itself; and the greatest and most acute Understanding cannot penetrate into the bottom of Things. To see, and make Provision against all Inconveniences, requires Abilities and Providence more than Human.  
But, that we may not be thought to complain without cause, and shelter ourselves in Generals, I will now give an Instance, and that a very considerable one, wherein Distributive Justice seems to me to fall exceeding short: And that is, In inflicting Punishments when Men do amiss, but not providing any Rewards to distinguish those that do well; and that too, notwithstanding the dispensing of these two, are the two great Branches, and, as it were, the two Hands of Justice; and yet, as This is commonly exercised in Courts of Judicature, Justice is maimed, and crippled, and inclines altogether to the punishing side. The greatest Favour we can hope to receive from this lame Goddess, is Indemnity, and a Manifestation of our own Innocence: And this alas! is Short Commons; a poor Allowance for those to subsist upon, who have signalised themselves by eminent and difficult Virtues. But This, as bad as it is, is not the worst of the Matter; for I will put you another Case that happens every Day. You shall be informed against, imprisoned, indicted wrongfully, and under these Calumnies suffer exceedingly, in your Person, your Purse, your Reputation; you are brought to Trial, and acquitted; This you will say makes some, tho' but some Amends neither, to your Credit: Your Innocence is proclaimed to all the World: And what now is the Fruit of all this Suffering and Expense? Why you escape the Severity of the Law: A goodly Satisfaction indeed! a Man is not punished that never deserved it. But where is the Reparation for all the Trouble and Charge you have been at? for This will stick by you, and can never be wiped off, tho' the Suspicion, and Scandal, and all the Dirt that a false Accuser bespattered you with, may. The Plaintiff or Informer in the mean while, if he can but bring the least Colour of probability for what he deposed against you, comes off clear; and a very easy thing it is, to make any thing look so suspicious, as shall suffice to prevent the recovering of Damages upon him: So very niggardly, so shamefully miserable is Justice in the Matter of Rewards, and gratifying Men for having deserved well; and so entirely addicted to Punishment. Insomuch, that now the Word is brought to signify That by way of Eminence, and doing Justice, or being obnoxious to Justice, is constantly understood in the rigorous Sense, as if Justice had nothing else to do, but to scourge, and take Men off. And any Man, whose Disposition is litigious, and his Malice and Conscience wicked enough to put him upon it, may very easily give his Neighbours a great deal of Trouble and Charge; and without any danger to himself, run them into such Difficulties, as will not be possible to get quit of again, without considerable Detriment and Disquiet.  
Now if we would consider Justice, as to the several parts of our Duty, and the Objects in which they terminate; these are principally Three. For every Man is, by virtue of his Nature and Condition, a Debtor to God, to Himself, and to his Neighbour: So that One of his Creditors is above him; Another is upon the level with him; and the Third is Creditor and Debtor both in one Person. The Duty to God is but another Phrase for Piety and Religion; so that this Head of Justice hath been largely insisted upon already, in the Second Part of this Treatise. And therefore, without troubling the Reader any more upon that Subject, I shall betake myself to the other Two yet behind; the Duty to ourselves, and That to our Neighbour.   

CHAP. VI Of Justice, as That regards a Man's Duty to Himself.  
THis indeed is scattered throughout this whole Work, and every Chapter is full of it. For what else is the Design of the First Book, which attempts to bring Men throughly acquainted with Themselves, and the Condition of Human Life? What else does the Second drive at in teaching Men Wisdom, and laying down general Rules for their attaining to it? What, Lastly, makes up this Third Book, but especially that part of it which treats of Fortitude and Temperance, which are both of them Virtues, that have a more direct tendency, and immediate Relation to this Matter? So that any thing industriously applied to this Topick in particular, might perhaps be well enough spared. But however, I will here lay down some Directions, and give the Matter an express and solemn Consideration, in the most compendious Method that conveniently I can. 

1. The First Advice I shall give upon this Occasion, and that which in truth is the Foundation of all the rest, is, That Men would bethink themselves, and take up a Resolution not to live Extempore, and at Random, from Hand to Mouth, and without any Reflection of what they are, what will become of them, and why they are here; and yet, as extravagant as all this may seem at first hearing, the greatest part of Mankind by far are guilty of it. They fool away their Time, and never live in good earnest; but pass Day after Day, without one serious Thought, or troubling themselves to look at all before them. They have no Relish, no Enjoyment of Life; nor make any other use of it, but only to employ it in unnecessary Trifles, and Things by the by. Their mighty Projects, and busy Cares are rather a Hindrance and Perplexity, than any Furtherance to the great Ends of Living: Such Men do every thing in earnest, but live. All their Actions, and the little broken Parcels of Life, are grave and full of Attention; but the Bulk and Substance of Life goes off without any Regard or Consideration at all. This is like a Self-evident Principle, or a Truth taken for granted in Speculation; upon which they never bestow a Second Thought. That which is Accidental and Insignificant is made their principal Care; and that which ought to be their main Business, neglected, as if it were only an Additional and Unnecessary thing. They are exceeding diligent, and importunately solicitous in other Matters; some in acquiring a vast compass of Learning; some in aspiring to Honours and Preferments; some in heaping up Riches: Others are intent upon Pleasures and Diversions; Hunting, or Play, or vain Contrivances to pass away their Time, as if This were a Burden, and hung upon their Hands: Others are taken up in useless Speculations, fanciful Notions, pretty Inventions: Others set up for Men of Business, and spend all their Days in Hurry and Noise: Others pursue Designs different from all these: But amidst this vast Variety of Follies, few or none apply themselves to the true Wisdom, by studying how to live indeed. They are Thoughtful and Anxious, entirely given up to, and eager of many Matters; but Life slips through their Fingers insensibly, and is turned to no Account. This is only in the Nature of a Term; a set Period of Time appointed to follow other Business in. Now all this is extremely injurious and unreasonable; the Source of our greatest Misery; the falsest and basest way of betraying ourselves, and abandoning our true Interest: It is perfectly losing and throwing away our Life, and the most perfidious, as well as the most fatal Breach of Duty we can possibly be guilty of. For certainly every Man owes thus much to Himself, Not to trifle, and be wanting in his greatest Concern; To make Life as easy, as cheerful, as desirable, as good to himself as he can; which is to be done no other way, but by making the most of it in point of Usefulness, and good Management. For Living well and advisedly is the only Expedient in order to dying so; and This is the great Task incumbent upon all Mortals. We ought to look upon Life as a Matter of the last Consequence; a precious Talon; an important Trust, of which we must render a strict and very particular Account; and therefore are bound to husband it thristily, and improve it to the utmost of our Power; that we may be found faithful in our Stewardship, and gain by the Increase. This is our Great Concern; All the rest are Toys and Geugaws in comparison; inconsiderable, and very superficial Advantages. I cannot deny indeed, but some there are, who bestow some Thought of this kind, and pretend to set about it with marvellous Application: But then this Thoughtfulness comes too late, and they begin to live when they are just going to die. Like foolish Chapmen, who put off their Bargains till the Shops are shut, and then complain of an ill Market. What, say they, shall I never get an Opportunity of retreating from the World, and living to some Purpose? Alas! 
* Quam serum est incipere vivere, cum desinendum est! quam stulta mortalitatis oblivio! Dum differtur vita transcurrit.  How unseasonable is it to begin to live, when we can live no longer! What strange Infatuation makes us thus forget, that we are Mortal! While we put off to a farther Day, and intent to take up hereafter; that very Life which should have been employed, is lost and gone. So good reason had all the Wise Men of Old to call upon us so often and so loudly, to make the best of our Time, and lose no Opportunities; so just is That Warning, That of all the Necessaries of Life, Time is the greatest, the most indispensable; what they who want, and are prodigal of, undo themselves to all Intents and Purposes. The shortness of Life, and the length of Art, is not more properly applied to the Study of Physic, and the Art of Healing, than it is to the Art of Living. For this is an Art too, and such as cannot be mastered without long Study, and great Application of Mind. This is the true, the only Wisdom; and therefore this present Direction is the first and most concerning; those that follow are but so many Deductions from, and Helps to it.  
2. The Next is, That we would learn to dwell alone; to be easy when by ourselves; and, if Occasion so require, well content to be deprived of the Company, and Comfort of all the World. It is an extraordinary Attainment, to know how to enjoy one's self; and a Virtue as well as Advantage to take Satisfaction and perfect Content in that Enjoyment. Let us therefore set about it in good Earnest, and never rest till we have gained this Point upon ourselves; The conquering all our Fondnesses, and uneasy Hankering after the Conversation of others, and the taking Delight in conversing with our own Souls; That so our Contentment may depend upon ourselves alone, and not upon other People, nor upon any thing without us. But, though we should not seek Conversation as our Happiness, and what we cannot want; yet must not this Self-satisfaction degenerate into a cynical Moroseness, or a proud affected Solicitude. It is a Fault to refuse, or to disdain the Company of our Friends; This is what we ought not only to accept, but to be glad of, and good Humoured in; allowing and practising all those Diversions, which pleasant Discourse, and innocent Mirth are able to give us. My Meaning is only to keep Men from being Slaves to those Diversions, and unable to relish any Pleasure without them; and such are a great part of the World, almost quite lost, and sadly to seek, what to do with themselves, when they are alone. Now every Man ought to be sufficiently provided at Home for his own Entertainment; and he is very poorly supplied, who cannot subsist upon his private Stock for one Day at least. But the Man, who hath brought himself to do so every Day, and needs be beholding to no body for his Sustenance and Satisfaction of this kind, is sure to be always Happy, always pleased. 'Tis true; In the midst of all this, he ought to be Civil and Complaisant; to put on an Air of Gaiety, or Business, comply with the Company, and do as they do; submit to the Necessity of Affairs, and follow when that calls; in a Word, it will be his Prudence to accommodate his Temper and Behaviour to any Thing that may happen; but howsoever those Considerations may alter his outward Appearance, and oblige him to make different Figures in the Eye of the World; to put on all Humours, and shift his Manner, as oft as the Scene changes; yet still at Home, and within himself he must be always the same. This is the Effect of Meditation, and serious Thought, which is indeed the Food, the Life, the Essence of the Soul. And it is a remarkable Instance, how kind Nature hath been to us, that what we thus live upon, is the most frequent, the most lasting, the most easy and natural Employment of our Souls; for Thought is always with us, and most truly our own.    
But, though all Men's Minds are employed, yet is not the Employment easy to all alike; nor the Matter they are employed upon, the same. In some, this Entertainment of themselves is mere Impotence and Childishness; the Dosing of Idleness and Sloth, the want of Business, and merely the Effect of having nothing else to do: But Great Souls make it their Choice, they court and covet the Opportunities for it, look upon it as their main Business, and most improving Study. And therefore they ply it close with their utmost Application, and Intenseness of Thought; their Faculties are all at Work, and, as was said of Scipio, they are never less alone, than when they are by themselves; never more full of Business than when retreated from the World, and sequestered from all that Men commonly call such. This, so far as Humane Nature can aspire to the Resemblance of so bright an Excellence, is to imitate Almighty God; for He lives, and feeds upon the Eternal Reflections of his own Mind; And Aristotle guessed right, when he laid down this constant Employment, as the Foundation of the Happiness, both of the Divine and Humane Nature. For Self-sufficiency, and Self-satisfaction, are but other Words for Happiness; and These are never to be had, never to be tasted, but by learning to employ, and to entertain ourselves well with our own Thoughts.  
3. But then in order hereunto great regard must be had to the Choice of sit Subjects for the Mind to dwell upon. For some People make so very ill Use of this solitary Retreat into themselves, that they are their own worst Tempter's, and Company is their best Preservation. To the Intent therefore, that this Meditation may be an Employment indeed, and this Entertainment delightful; like His whose Image our Souls are, we must take Care not to trifle away our Time in vain Thoughts, and much more still, not to misspend it in Vice. The First is sure to do us no manner of Good, the Second a great deal of Harm. Some grave severe Study, some useful profound Knowledge, some Contrivance how to improve and exalt our Minds, and make ourselves better Men, should be our great Employment and Concern. God hath given us Reason and Comprehension; and a large Possession, a Rich Soil it is; but the manuring, and cultivating, and making it fruitful is our Duty; the principal Task incumbent upon every Man; what the Laws of Nature and Religion have covenanted for; and what each of us must expect to give an Account of. It highly concerns us therefore to be serious and vigilant, to look narrowly into ourselves; and see how Matters stand with us; to call in our Cares and Endeavours unprofitably spent abroad, and try to turn these to better Account, by laying them out upon Business more Important at Home. And when, upon Examination, we find, (as find we shall) that many things are out of Course, and go much amiss; Some through the Corruption of Vice; Others from some defect in Nature; a Third by Reason of the Infection we have taken from Ill Company; a Fourth upon the Account of some Accident that disorders and confounds us; when, I say, we shall thus perceive our several Failings, and the true Causes of them distinctly; our next Endeavour must be, to go considerately to work; correcting what was out of Order, providing against the like Inconveniences, and cutting off the Occasions that drew us into Danger, for the time to come. A Man is by all means bound to bring himself to Reason, and though the Opposition made by unruly Appetites, and vicious Habits may be very great, and the Difficulties very discouraging, yet Reformation is a Work that must be done. And therefore a Man ought to set about it with Resolution; to bow the stubborn Neck of his Passions, whatever it cost him; and not let all run to ruin, and lose himself by Cowardice, or Sloth, or a disdainful, unthinking Carelessness.  
4. And indeed above all things a Man should beware of a sluggish, santring Way of Life; for To do Nothing, is to do All; the Soul gathers Rust by lying Idle and our of Use; and the Way to preserve our Minds as well as our Bodies in Health and Strength, is to keep them in Breath by constant Exercise, and Employment. And here too, the Prescription holds, that the Exercise should not be too violent, and laborious. There is no Occasion for a constant Intenseness of Thought; but it ought to be wholesome and fit for them; that our Thoughts should be Serious and Grave, Virtuous and Becoming. And if there be not enough of this kind laid ready to our Hands, we ought rather to cut out Work for ourselves, than not be doing at all. And thus we may consult our own Genius; and form such Designs as may give us Pleasure and Entertainment, as well as find us Business; we may read good Books; confer with good Men; and easily contrive to lay out our Time so regularly, and in Method; as never to be in a Hurry, never at a Loss what to do next, or how to dispose of ourselves to very good Advantage.  
5. Another good Direction will be, To manage all Occurrences so prudently, that all that offers, all that is done, or said may turn to Account; To learn somewhat from every Company we come into, from every Action and Accident to take some warning, lay down some Rule, make some Application, and bring the Matter home to ourselves, and all this in a way so silent, that no body shall perceive it. For all the Attempts of this kind grow nauseous and offensive, if we suffer them once to be corrupted with Noise, and Vanity, and Affectation.  
6. But to be a little more particular. We cannot but be sensible, that as a Man hath Three things to take care of, as either Essential Parts of, or necessary Appendages to his Person; so the Duty, which every one is obliged to himself in, is the regulating and wise Management of his Mind, his Body, and his Goods. As for the Mind, (which is the First and Principal, and for the Use and Benefit whereof those general Rules already laid down, are after a more peculiar manner calculated) All its Operations, we know, may be reduced to these Two, Cogitation, and Volition; consequently the Two great Faculties to be cultivated are the Understanding and the Will; and the Fruits to be reaped from our Care and Pains, the Ornaments and Excellencies of the Soul are, Knowledge and Virtue. As to the former of these, the Understanding; there are Two Vicious Extremes, and in some Sense indeed Contraries to each other, from which we should use all possible Care to preserve it untainted. The First of these is Folly; by which I understand all sorts of Vanity, empty and insignificant Imaginations, Fopperies and Trifles, such as are excusable only in Children, but unworthy the Character, and far beneath the Dignity of a Man; For This Noble Creature was not made to play the Fool; 
* Non ad jocum & lusum genitus, sed ad severitatem potiùs.  Jest and Sport may be his Recreation, but he is qualified and designed for Greater Things. Seriousness and severe Thought are his Business, and Matters of Weight and Importance expected from him. In the other part of my Division, I likewise include all fantastical, absurd, and extravagant Opinions; vulgar Errors, and unreasonable Prejudices. For as Vanity debases the Soul, damps its Vigour, adulterates and bastardises its genuine Greatness; so Prepossession and rash Mistakes, pollute and dishonour, and leave an Eternal Blemish upon it. We must therefore feed and cherish this Noble Creature, with Entertainment suitable to its generous Appetite and Nature; that is, with serious, substantial Studies, such as may be serviceable, and turn to some Account; we must tincture and soak it well (if I may so say) in Sound, agreeable Notions, such as are conformable to the Dictates of pure Nature, and right Reason; and our Care should be not so much to exalt, and refine, and fly it high, to render it Vigorous and Strong, Acute and Nice; as to regulate and methodise it, that all its Reasonings may be staunch; its Conclusions true, its Motions orderly, and its Dispositions virtuous: For the doing Things Pertinently and Properly, in due Method, and Time, and Measure, is the Effect of Wisdom, and that which makes the Soul and its Attainments truly valuable. And here again great Care must be taken to keep ourselves from Pertness and Self-conceit, Positiveness and Presumption; all which are Vices exceeding common among Men of acute Parts, and a lively strong Mind. It would be much wiser to put a Check upon our Forwardness; to proceed slowly and deliberately; to be content to live in Doubt, and suspend our Judgement, and confess our Ignorance, in such Matters especially, as are controverted, and commonly opposed; where Reason is confronted with Reason, and Authority with Authority; and these two so plausible, so strong on both Sides, that they ask Time and Skill to consider and digest them thoroughly. Nor is This a mean Accomplishment, or below the Character of the Person I pretend to instruct. For, let my Reader be well assured, it is a great Thing and a very valuable Quality, to know how to be Ignorant with Modesty and Decency; and keeping one's self in Doubt and suspense is the surest and safest Way to true Knowledge. This is what the most celebrated Philosophers always pretended to do; and indeed it is one of the fairest and most generous Fruits of Learning and a well disciplined Mind.  
7. As for the Will; This must be brought under Government, and made to submit itself in every Thing to the Directions of Right Reason. And the reducing, it thus to Subjection is the Office of Virtue, which tames and subdues it, and inclines its Ear to this wise Guide, by drawing off its Attention and Inclination from the Seducements of vain, fickle, and commonly false Opinions, and by delivering it from the Tyranny of Passion. For These are the Three Principles, some of which always push on our Souls to Action, and preside over them in it; but They, who are under either of the latter, are lost and miserable to the last Degree. For, do but observe the mighty Difference betwixt them. The wise Man maintains his Post; and hearkens to the true Word of Command; the Dictates of his Mind, which are agreeable to Nature and Reason; he keeps his Eye constantly upon his Duty, and regards not what he is disposed to by his Frailties and Corruptions, but what by the Law he is obliged to do. Whatever common Opinion would persuade him to, he always suspects for spurious; whatever Passion would prompt him to, he certainly rejects and condemns. And the Effect of This is, that he lives at Ease and Quiet, finds Peace always within, goes on smoothly, and without disturbance; is never driven to any necessity of altering his Measures, or acting in contradiction to himself, or repenting of what he had done; for, let the Event be what it will, yet his Methods were right and proper; he chose the best, and made the most of his present Circumstances. And then, another Advantage he gains too, which is, to do nothing with Heat and Violence; for Reason is a Cool and Calm Principle. Whereas, on the other hand, the foolish Man, who gives himself up to the other Two, is exorbitant and uncertain; all his Motions are eccentric and wild; he is in perpetual Confusion, at War with himself, and hath no Ease, no Satisfaction. He is doing and undoing, taking new Measures, beginning again, repenting and condemning what is past, unsteady in all his Resolutions, and dissatisfied with his own Choice. For indeed none but the Wise Man can ever be fixed and contented; and all other Principles but Reason and Virtue are too feeble, too sickle to settle or to satisfy us. 
* Nulla placidior Quies nisi quam Ratio composuit.  When This composes us to Rest, we may expect it shall be sweet and refreshing. A good Man will always have regard to, and stand in awe of his own Conscience; which is in reality what the Heathens use to call his good Genius or Angel; and the Reverence he bears to This, will make him careful not to step awry, and ashamed of misbehaving himself in its Presence. And the true Reason why the World is no better, is, that 
† Rarum est, ut fatis se quisque vereatur.  so very few People pay that Respect which is due to themselves.  
8. The Body comes next to be considered; and to This we own our Assistance and good Management. 'Tis a vain and ridiculous Attempt, to separate these two principal parts of our Persons, and pretend to lay out all our Care and Tenderness upon the one, to the Prejudice and Defrauding of its Fellow: On the contrary, a good Understanding, and mutual Kindness ought to be maintained between them; that by reciprocal Offices they may be still more closely allied, more intimately joined. Nature hath bestowed a Body upon us, as our necessary Receptacle and Instrument of Life; and therefore the Soul, which is the Principal, aught to take the Guardianship and Protection of it. It must not enslave itself to the Body, 'tis true, for This were to draw the basest, most unjust, most dishonourable and reproachful of all Servitudes upon its own Head; but it is bound to secure, to direct, to advise, and to perform the part of an affectionate Husband, to this Flesh which Providence hath married it to. Care and Love is its due, tho' Submission be not; and the Soul should give it the Treatment of a Master, not the imperious and arbittary usage of a Tyrant; it must cherish, but not cram it; and show, that if it does not live for the Body, yet it cannot live here without the Body. One great part of the Artificers Excellence, is to be expert and dextrous in using the Tools that belong to his Trade: And it is no less Advantage, that a Wise Man finds in knowing how his Body ought to be used, and employing it as an Instrument excellently fitted for the Exercise and Promotion of Virtue. Now the way to preserve the Body in a good Condition, and of keeping it sit for Service, is by moderate Dier, and regular Exercise. What Share the Mind ought to have in the Pleasures and Gratifications of Sense, and how far it is allowed to bear the Body Company in them; hath been already showed in part, and will be explained more largely and particularly hereafter, when we come to treat of the Virtue of Temperance.  
9 The last Branch of this Consideration concerns the Goods or Estate; and for the adjusting exactly what are the Duties of each particular Person in this respect, we shall do well to observe, that there are several Offices and Arts relating to this Matter. There is the Gathering or Increasing part, the Keeping or Saving, the Managing, the Expending, the Trafficking, and Turning the Penny. For these are in a manner so many distinct Sciences; A Man may be very knowing, and a perfect Master in one, and yet altonether ignorant and unexperienced in the rest of them. The Getting part seems to be more difficult and intricate, and to consist of more several parts than any of the others. The Expending part is that which brings most Honour and Reputation. The Saving and Managing part is the proper Province of the Mistress of a Family; and This is but a dull Business, obscure and mean in common Esteem, by reason the Methods and the Fruits of it are not so visible as the rest; but yet so necessary, that This is the Defence and Security of all, and, ordinarily speaking, our other Cares are to very little purpose without it.  
There are Two Extremes in this Case, both equally vicious and ; The one is the Fondness and inordinate Love of Riches; the other Hating and Refusing them. By Riches at present I understand all that Wealth, which is the Overplus of what Necessity and a Competency according to our Quality require to be supplied with. Now a Wise Man will run into neither of these; but proportions his Desires according to that Prayer of Solomon, 
Prov. xxx.  Give me neither Poverty nor Riches; feed me with Food convenient for me. He will do them Justice, and allow them their proper place in his Esteem, looking upon them as they really are, a Thing indifferent in its own Nature; the Occasion and Ground of either Good or Evil, according as they fall into Good or Ill Hands; but capable of being made use of to many excellent Purposes: And this is all the Value they can fairly challenge from us.  
The Miseries and Mischiefs which attend the immoderate Love of Riches, 
Book I. Chap. 23.  and the peevish and humoursom Hatred of them, have been spoken to in the former parts of this Treatise. And therefore all I have now left me to do is, to lay down that Golden Rule, which consists in the Mean between these two Extremes; and that I think will be done in these Five Particulars.  
First, It consists in preferring and being pleased with them, but not setting our Affections upon them. Thus the Philosopher describes his Wise Man, 
* Sapiens non amat divitias, sed mavult.  One that is not fond of Riches, but yet had rather have them than not. A Man may be sensible of the Convenience of a Thing, and know how to value it as it deserves, without placing his Heart, and his Happiness in it. Thus, for Instance, a Person of low Stature, and weak Limbs, would be glad and well pleased to be taller and better built; and yet it never breaks his Rest, nor makes him reflect upon himself as miserable, for not being so. He that seeks what Nature desires, without Passion and Uneasiness, puts himself out of the Power of Fortune; and he that is content with what Fortune cannot take away from him, is the Man agreeable to this first part of the Character.  
But Secondly, If Passion and Anxiety be a Fault even in those who seek to enrich themselves by fair and honest Means only, much less can we be allowed to endeavour our own Profit by the Loss and Detriment of others. For this is to feed and grow fat at their Expense. No nor yet may we pursue Riches by base, and pitiful and sordid Arts; but should take care that all our Increase be so honourable and becoming, that no Man shall have any Temptation but his own Wickedness and Ill-nature, to complain of our Proceed, or grudge us our good Fortune, or once to say, That it is pity such Blessings should be bestowed upon us.  
Thirdly, When the good Providence of God puts these Opportunities and Advantages into our Hands, and Wealth comes in upon us in an honest and creditable Way, we are not to reject and disdain it; but receive it with Thankfulness and Satisfaction, and let it in, but not let it in too far. Riches should be admitted into our Houses, but not into our Hearts; we may take them into our Possession, but not into our Affections. For this is going too deep, and doing them an Honour much greater than they can ever deserve.  
Fourthly, When we have them, we should employ them honourably, virtuously, discreetly; and convert them into Instruments of doing good Offices, and being obliging to others. That the manner of their Going out may be at least as innocent, and as creditable, as that of their Coming in.  
Lastly, Whenever they take their Flight, and forsake us, we are not to be dejected, nor melancholy at the Loss; but thould consider, that tho' they took themselves away, they did not deprive us of any thing which was properly and truly our own. And therefore, 
* Si Divitiae effluxerint, non auferent nisi semetipfas.  if they give us the slip, there is no Robbery or Wrong in the Case; for we had no indeseasible Right in them before. In one Word, That Man ill deserves the Love and Favour of God, and aught to quit all his Pretensions to Virtue, and Philosophy, and Religion, who cannot support himself with these Comforts, but allows the Enjoyments of this World, the principal Place in his Esteem. 

† Aude Hospes contemnere opes, & Te quoque dignum.— Finge Deo.  Dare to be Poor, accept of homely Food,  
Be more than Man, and emulate a God.  Mr. Dryden.  

Of Justice between Man and Man: Or, The Duty towards our Neighbour.  
ADVERTISEMENT.  
THis Duty is very comprehensive, and shoots out into a great many Branches; For the convenience of treating it more methodically, we will make our first Division into two general Parts. The First of these shall contain all such Duties as are Common and Universal, required from All and every Man, to All and every Man: And that, whether they regard Thought, Word, or Deed: And these are Love, Fidelity, Truth, Freedom in Advising and Admonishing, Beneficence, Humanity, Liberality, and Gratitude. The Second extends itself to all special Duties; such I mean, as depend upon particular Reasons, and express Obligations; which concern some certain Persons and Relations, and not others: As Those between Husband and Wife, Parents and Children, Masters and Servants, Princes and Subjects, Magistrates and Private Persons, the Great and the Mean Man.    


CHAP. VII. The First Part of Justice; or Those Universal Duties, due from All to All in Common. And first of Love.  
LOVE is a Pure, a Holy, and a Generous Fire, 
What it is.  kindled in our Breasts by Nature; It's Primitive and Original Warmths were first discerned in the mutual Affection of Husband and Wife, Parents and Children, Brothers and Sisters: But then, cooling by degrees as it dilated itself, Art and Human Invention found means to blow it up again, and supply fresh Fuel, by the Institution of Alliances, Societies, Fraternities, Colleges, and other Incorporations by which the parts of Mankind are cemented and united. Now in regard that These Artificial Flames underwent the same Fate with those Natural; and burned more feeble and dim, as they were expanded and subdivided; as also, that their Heat is much allayed, by the Mixture of Profit, Convenience, Delight, and such other Selfish Considerations; therefore to cherish and recruit this Fire again, Choice hath contrived to unite its scattered Forces, and contract them into the narrowest compass that can be, by the ferventest and tenderest of all Affections, that between true Friends. And This indeed is Love in Perfection; as much more ardent, and endearing, and refined than any other, as the Vital Heat in the Heart is more intense than than of the Liver, or the Blood in the Veins.  
Love is the very Life and Soul of the World; more necessary to its Subsistence and Wellbeing (say the Philosophers) than those two Servants which we cannot want, Fire and Water. The Latins therefore have given a good Intimation of This, in terming Friendship Necessitudo, and Friends Necessarii: This is the Sun, the Staff, the Salt of Life; all is dark and comfortless without the Light of this cheering Fire; all seeble and tottering without this firm Support; all flat and insipid, till this Seasons and gives it a grateful Relish. 
Ecclus. vi. 14, 16.  To this purpose that Wise Man, * A Faithful Friend is a strong Defence, the Medicine of Lise; and He that findeth him, findeth a great Treasure.  
Nor may we suppose this Virtue serviceable and necessary to private Persons only; 
It's Usefulness.  or that the Pleasures and Charms of it are confined to small Numbers, and secret Retirements; Its Joys and its Beauties are equally, nay more ravishing and delightful, more useful and seasonable to larger Bodies, and public Communities of Men. For This is the true Mother, the Bearer and Breeder up of Human Society; and all States and Politic Constitutions are maintained and preserved by virtue of her Influence. None but Tyrants and Monsters are jealous of, or have a dislike to it; not but that even They adore this Virtue in their Hearts, and have a secret Esteem for it; but because they themselves cannot come within the Verge and Benefit of it, therefore they bid it open Defiance. Love is powerful enough of itself to keep the World in order, without the Addition of any other Helps: And were it suffered to have free Course, and operate every where with its utmost Vigour, the necessity of all Laws would be quite superseded. For Laws were only a Resuge taken in to help at a dead List, and as the best Remedy that could then be found, to supply the Defect and Decays of Love; and the very End and Aim of these is to bring Men by Authority and Compulsion, to do That almost whether they will or no, which they ought to have done freely and out of Inclination, upon a Principle of Kindness. But still Laws fall far short of This in Point of Efficacy and Extent: For These can only take cognizance of Overt-Acts, and pretend not to restrain or make Provision against any other: Whereas Love goes to the Bottom, regulates the Heart as well as the Tongue and the Hands; purifies the Will and directs its Operations; thus sweetening the very Spring, whence all our Actions flow. Upon this Account Aristotle seems to have said, That Wise and Good Lawgivers have a greater regard to Love, than to Justice. And because in this wretched Degeneracy of Mankind, both the One and the Other of these are but too often slighted and defeated, therefore a Third Remedy hath been thought of, but That still less effectual in its Operations, and less valuable in itself, than either of the Former; which is Force of Arms; than which nothing can be more directly contrary to that first Principle of Love. And thus you have a short Scheme laid before you of Politic Institutions and Government; and by what Steps they grew, or rather indeed fell and sunk down into that Condition we now see them in. But still the first and single Principle of Amity is worth All, incomparably above all the rest; as indeed it usually happens in other Cases, that the Second and Subsidiary Remedies never come up to the First and Principal; for These are the Effects of Choice, and taken for their own Sakes; but Those the last Shifts of necessitated Men, who in their Extremity lay hold on any thing that comes next, and must be content to take what they can get.  
There is, it must be confessed, 
Distinguished as to Caulis  great Ambiguity in this Term of Love, and many Distinctions have accordingly been made, which were but needful to give Us a true Idea of the Variety of Passions proceeding from it. The Ancients were wont to divide it into Four sorts, Natural, Social, Hospitable, and Venereal. But this Division so far as I can apprehend, does not do the Business; and therefore we will try another Method, and distinguish it these Three following ways.  
First with regard to the Causes that create it; and They are Four. Nature, Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure; and these sometimes advance all together in a Body; sometimes Two or Three of them; and very often One of them appears single. But of all these, Virtue is the noblest Cause, and the most powerful; for This is pure and refined, and hath its Residence in the Heart, the Seat of Love itself. Nature runs in the Blood, Profit lies in the Purse, and Pleasure is consigned to some particular Part, and works but upon the Senses of the Body, except at a distance, and by Reflection only. Accordingly Virtue is more free, and open, and pure, and firm in its Affection; for all the other Causes, when destitute of this, are sordid and mean, fickle, and of short Continuance. He that loves upon the Account of Virtue, can never be weary, because there are always fresh Charms to attract and entertain him; and if such a Friendship happen to break off, he hath no reason to complain, because the Breach could not have been, if all that was worth his Love had not failed. He that Loves for Profit, if a Breach happen there, is full of immoderate Complaints; but exposed to very just Reproach, for having spared no Pains, and yet gaining nothing by all his Trouble. He that Loves for Pleasure, when the Satisfaction ceases, the Passion ceases too; and he takes leave of the Object, without murmuring or complaint.  
The Second Distinction relates to the Parties concerned in this Affection; 
The Persons.  and of These there are Three sorts remarkable. One proceeds in a direct Line between Superioural, as between Parents and Children, Uncles and Nephews; or Legal and Political, as between a Prince and his Subjects, a Lord and his Vassals, a Master and his Servants, a Turor and his Pupil; a Prelate, or Preacher, or Magistrate, and the People under his Care. Now, if one would speak properly, and go to the Nicety of the thing, This is not true Love; by reason of the Distance and great Disparity between the Circumstances of the Parties, which hinders that Easiness and Privacy, that Familiarity and entire Communication, which is the Principal Fruit and Consequence of Love; as also, upon the Account of that Obligation there ●es upon them, which leaves such Persons very little at their own Disposal in this Matter, and so takes off from that Freedom supposed in this Virtue, making the Affection rather an Effect of Duty and Necessity, than of Choice. And in consideration of This it is, that we call it by other Names more suitable to those Engagements. Thus Inferiors, we say, own Honour, and Respect, and Obedience to those above them; and Superiors own Care, and Protection, and Vigilance, and kind Condescension to those beneath them.  
The Second sort of Love, with regard to the Parties, proceeds in a Collateral Line; and This is between such as are either almost or altogether Equals. This again is Twofold, either Natural, or Voluntary. The Natural first, as between Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, and the like; which is more properly called Love than the Former, because there is less Disparity in their Condition, and so more room for Familiarity and free Converse; But then here is an Obligation from Nature too, and that such a one as loosens or slackens that Knot in one respect, which it ties and binds us by in another. For many Quarrels and Misunderstandings commonly arise between these Relations, upon the Account of Portion, Inheritance, and that variety of Business and Interests, wherein they are mutually concerned. Besides, that very frequently there wants that Similitude and exact Agreement of Humours and Inclinations, which is the very Life and Essence of true and entire Affection. I must confess, he is an ill Man, or a Fool, but he is my Brother, or my Relation, are Complaints exceeding common in the Mouths of such Persons: But then there is likewise a free and voluntary Love between Equals, such as that of intimate Acquaintance, and Friends; which hath no other Band of Union but Affection only; and This is what in the strict and proper Signification of the Word, we call Amity or Love.  
The Third sort, with respect to the Persons concerned, is a Mixture and Compund of the two Former; from whence it follows, that each Ingredient having its due Force, this Composition ought to be much stronger than either of the other can possibly be alone. And such is the Conjugal Affection between Husband and Wife. This hath somewhat of the direct and descending Line, by reason of the Superiority of the Husband, and the Subjection of the Wife; and it hath a great deal of the Collateral Line too, upon the account that This is a Society instituted for Familiarity and mutual Comfort. An Intimation whereof Almighty God himself seems to have given us, in the first Creation of Woman, by taking her out of the Substance of Man, yet not out of his Head, nor his Feet, but his Side. And thus married Persons do, and are obliged to exercise these two sorts of Affection in their Behaviour to each other; but each of them so, as may be most seasonable and becoming. In Public, the Duties of the direct Line take place; for a Wise Woman will always be sure to treat her Husband before Company with Submission and Respect; but in private and alone, the Familiarities of the Collateral Line, and all imaginable Freedoms are to be practised. This Conjugal Affection is likewise twofold; and of a compounded Nature in another Respect. For it is both Spiritual and Corporeal; an Union of Bodies as well as Souls; which is a Qualification peculiar to This alone, and such as no other kind of Love can pretend to, except That which is abusively and most injuriously styled so, and such as not only all wholesome Laws, but even Reason and Nature itself have always disallowed and condemned. Upon these several Accounts then this Affection of a married State is fitted to be exceeding great and strong, powerful and endearing. But yet there are two or three Rubs in the way, that check and cool it, and very seldom suffer it to rise up to all the Perfections of a just Friendship. One is, That no part here is left to their own Liberty, but the first Entrance upon it. When once they are in, they must even make their best on't, for there is no getting out again. The persisting and continuance in this Soceity is irreversibly bound upon them; and this Constraint is the universal Condition of all the best and most Religious, that is of all Christian Marriages; For in other Persuasions Men are left more to their Liberty, by the allowing Divorces, final Separations, and Nullities of this Obligation. Another (if the Ladies will give us leave to say so) is the Weakness of the Sex; whose Strength of Mind is not sufficient to keep up, and hold pace in a perfect Conference, and unreserved Communication of all a Man's Thoughts; and the Contemplations of a penetrating and judicious Mind. So that here is quite another Turn of Soul; it wants Substance and Solidity to keep the Knot right; and this Conjunction is like the fastening of one thing which is stubborn and inflexible, to another that is slender, and limber, and yielding; which for want of Strength to bear up against it, buckles under, and slips away from it. A Third Impediment to that entire Affection in a Conjugal State, may be imputed to the great Intricacy of Business that attends it; the Children, the Relations on both sides; and a great many other Uneasinesses and Perplexities, which, tho' but an Accidental Inconvenience, and not constant and unavoidable, as the two former are, yet is frequent and considerable enough to deserve a Remark here, and too often disturbs the Happiness and Quiet, and cools the vigour of that Affection, which is the Blessing and Ornament of that State.  
The Third Distinction of Love concerns the Strength and Intenseness, or the Weakness and Remissness of it. 
Degrees.  With regard to This Consideration it is again Twofold. One Common and Imperfect, which indeed ought rather to be termed Benevolence or Wellwishing, Familiarity, Particular Acquaintance: And this varies exceedingly, and may differ almost infinitely in the degrees of it, each of which may be more or less close, and intimate, and strong than other: The Other is Perfect; and this is a sort of Phoenix, few, if any one Instance of it to be seen in the World; so far from being practised by Mankind, that they can scarce form a tolerable Idea of it to themselves; or reach up to the Force and Excellencies of the thing, by all the Strength of mere Imagination.  
For the clearer and more distinct Understanding of this Difference, it may be of some Service to us to give a Description of each, and to confront them with one another; as for Example: 

1. The Common may be conciliated, and come to its utmost Pitch in a very little while; but long Time, and great Deliberation must go to the Finishing a perfect Amity. Such Persons, according to the Proverb, must eat at least a Bushel of Salt together, before they can be qualified to contract an entire Friendship.  
2. That which is Common may be contracted and carried on by an infinite variety of Accidents, which contribute to our Profit and Delight; whereupon a Wise Man prescribed these two Rules for the attaining to it; That a Man should be entertaining in his Discourse, and obliging and serviceable in his Actions; for if the One of these do but furnish out Pleasure, and the other promote the Interest of the Persons with whom we converse, all that a Common Friendship pretends to, is done effectually: But now, That which I call a Perfect Friendship is never built upon such mean Considerations. Nothing less than the Contemplation and mutual Experience of an unfeigned and vigorous Virtue can be Foundation strong enough for so noble a Superstructure.  
3. The Common Friendships may extend themselves to a great Number of Persons: But the true entire Friendship admits but of One Partner; and this is to all Intents and Purposes a Second Self: so that altho' the Persons are Two, yet their Hearts and Affections are One and the Same. And the necessity of confining such Friendships to Two only, is very evident from the Nature of the thing. For to suppose more, destroys the Notion, and obstructs all the Offices and Operations of it. For instance, To secure and assist a Friend in his Distress, is an indispensable Obligation; but if we put the Case of Two such standing in need of our Help at the same time; and not only so, but desiring Kindnesses which are inconsistent and contrary to one another, Which way shall I turn myself; or how can I discharge my Obligations, when one of these is favoured and relieved to the Prejudice and Neglect of the other? Again, My Friend imparts a Secret to me, What Distraction is here? If I reveal it, This is a Breach of Trust and Friendship, which obliges me to be Faithful in keeping what is thus deposted with me: But then, if I do not communicate it to my other Friend, this is Unfaithfulness too; for it is another Law of true and entire Friendship, to unbosom themselves freely, and to have no Reserves from each other. Thus you see the Confusion and Perplexity, the Impracticableness and utter Impossibility indeed of more Friends than One, in the highest and most genuine Acceptation of the Word. And, no doubt, Multiplication of Parts, and Division, is, generally speaking, an Enemy to Perfection, as Union is a natural and inseparable Property of it.  
4. The Common Friendship admits of Diminution, and Increase; it is subject to Exceptions, Limitations, different Modifications and Forms; it grows warmer and colder; and comes and goes by Fits, like an intermitting Fever; according as the Person is Absent or Present; as his Merits are more or less; and the Kindnesses he does more or less frequent and engaging; and many other Considerations there are, capable of making an Alteration in our Affections of this kind. But now, That Friendship, which is perfect and entire, is much otherwise; firm and constant to itself, even and steady: Its Warmths are healthful, its Temper regular, and all its Motions vigorous and uniform.  
5. The Common Friendship admits and stands in need of several Rules for its Direction; several Wise Cautions contrived by considerate Persons for the regulating and restraining it, and preventing any future Inconveniences, which may happen to arise from Unwariness, and an unguarded Conversation. One of these is, To love our Friend so far as may be consistent with the Preservation of our Piety, and Truth, and Virtue. For even that old Expression of Amicus usque ad Aras, implies this Restriction. Another is to love him so, as if you were sure one Day to hate him; and to hate a Man so, as if you were hereafter to love him; that is, To be prudent and reserved in your Passions and Affections, and not abandon one's self so entirely, or be so violent in either Extreme, that a Man should have just occasion to repent, and condemn his former Behaviour, if, at any time hereafter there should happen to be a Breach, or any Coldness grow betwixt them. A Third is, To come into our Friend's Assistance of our own accord, and without being called. For it puts a Friend out of Countenance to demand his Right; and he buys a Kindness dear, when forced to ask what he looks upon as his just Due, and that which he conceives he ought to be prevented in. Therefore these Obligations are never fully satisfied, except we be always ready and early in our Courtesies, and, if that be possible, beforehand with his very Wishes. A Fourth is not to be troublesome to our Friends, by entertaining them with dismal Stories of our own Misfortunes, and being always in the complaining Strain. Like Women, that make it their whole Business to move Pity, and are constantly magnifying their own Hardships and Sufferings. Now all these are very useful and seasonable Directions, fit to be observed in common Friendships: But in That more sublime and perfect one, there is no occasion at all for these; This disdains all Forms, and is above the Pedantic Niceties of Ceremony and Reserve.    
This is what we shall attain to a more just and distinct Notion of, 
Perfect Friendship, what.  by giving the Reader a Draught and Description of Friendship in Perfection: Which is no other, in short, than a free, full, and entire Mingling of Souls throughout, and in every part and point. To explain this now in Three Particulars. I say First, It must be a Mingling and (if I may so express it) an Incorporating, and not a Conjunction of Souls only. For this gives us a Resemblance of Solid Bodies, which, how strongly and artificially soever they may be tacked together in one part, yet do not touch in all; And not only so, but that very Ligament which joins them together, may be dissolved, or cut asunder, and each of these Bodies may subsist, and remain, and feel itself entire, after Separation. But now in these perfect Friendships, the Souls of Men are entirely absorbed in each other; so confounded, as never to be distinguished, never to be parted again; like Liquors well mixed, which can never be drawn off from each other. And That is the perfect, the universal Communion of Minds, that entire Agreement of Judgements and Inclinations, which I rather chose to express by mingling of Souls, as a Phrase that gives us a stronger Idea of this Union, than any Resemblance taken from Solids could possibly do. Secondly, It is free, and purely the Work of Choice, a generous and spontaneous Act of the Will, without any Obligation, or distant Inducement, foreign to the Worth and Agreeableness of the Parties. For nothing is more voluntary than Love; and so much of Constraint as you put upon it, so much you weaken the Affection, and take off from the true Nature and Commendation of the Virtue. Thirdly, It is universal, and without Exception; no Reservation of any thing, nothing that can be called ours in bar to our Friend's Title and Pretensions. Estate, Honours, Preferments, Judgements, Thoughts, Wills, all laid open and in common; nay, even Life itself is what both have equal Right in. From This so universal and entire Communication it is, that that those Maxims have taken place, of Friendship finding or making all equal; of Friends having no Property; and the like; such can no longer lend or borrow; they cannot give or receive; there is no such thing as Beneficence and Obligation, Acknowledgements or Returns, or any such Offices of Kindness or Gratitude practicable or in force for Their Condition. These indeed are the Arts and Methods by which ordinary Friendships are cherished and maintained; but at the same time that they are Testimonies of Affection, they are Marks of Distinction too. Whereas, in this Case, it is as with one's own Self; and as a Man cannot be obliged to himself for any Service done to his own Person, nor own any Gratitude upon the Account of that Kindness and Readiness to relieve his own Wants, which he feels in his Breast, no more can one true Friend be indebted to another upon any the like Occasions. Nay, even Marriage, tho' it give us the best, yet is even That but a distant and feeble Resemblance of the Divine Union we are now treating of. The Laws allow no such thing as Distinct Properties, and Donations betwixt Man and Wife. And therefore in Friendship could there be any such thing as giving and receiving, the Benefactor would be That Person who made use of his Friend's Kindness, and so put it in his Power to do what became him. For the principal Design, and eagerest Wish of each Party, being to snatch every occasion of mutual Assistance and Benefit; He who furnishes the Opportunity, and gratifies this Desire, is properly the Donor. Since it is to his Bounty that the other owes his greatest Happiness; for such is the Satisfaction of compassing his Desires, and effecting that which is incomparably more pleasant and dear to him, than all the Advantages and Enjoyments in the World besides.  
Some few Instances there are of this entire Friendship, 
Examples of Friendship.  and unreserved Communication of Souls in ancient Story. When Blosius was apprehended, upon the Account of a mighty Friendship known to be between Him and Tiberius Gracchus, who was already under Sentence of Condemnation for Seditious Practices; upon Examination what he would have done for his sake, he replied, That he would have stuck at nothing to do him Service. The Judges proceeded further, and asked, Whether if Gracchus had desir'd him to set the Temples on Fire, he would have complied with so Sacrilegious a Request: He answered again, That Gracchus was not capable of desiring so wicked a Proof of his Friendship; but upon supposition that he could, he should not have refused it. Now This was a very bold and a dangerous Answer. The first part of it indeed, that Gracchus could not entertain a Thought so impious, was no more than he might well enough venture to say; because, according to the Account we have already given of this Matter, every Friend in perfection is not only fully acquainted with the Disposition, and all the Thoughts of his Friend, which sufficiently qualifies him to be responsible for them all; but he is absolute Master of them, and so can dispose of them, as much as of his own. But that last Clause of doing so if Gracchus had required it, was idle and impertinent; for it does not in any Degree take off from what he had affirmed before, concerning his Assurance of Gracchus not entertaining any such Desire, nor make the thing one Whit better or worse. Now this Instance shows us the perfect Harmony of Souls, with regard to the concurring Judgements and Inclinations of such Friends.  
The Second Instance relates to their Fortunes. To which purpose we read of Three Friends, (This Number of Three I confess is a Contradiction to the Rules here proposed, and tempts us to think that this Friendship, tho' very extraordinary, had not yet attained to all the Degrees of just a Perfection) But Three however there were: Two of them in very plentiful, the other in as low Circumstances, who had a poor old Mother, and a young unmarried Daughter, both lying upon his Hands. This Person upon his Deathbed makes a Will, and bequeathes to One of his Friends his poor feeble Mother to maintain; to the Other his Daughter, with a Charge to see her as well matched as possibly he could; and in case either of these happened to fail, the whole Care of both was to devolve upon the Other. A notable Legacy you'll say; and so the World then thought it; for every Body made themselves extremely merry with so odd a Bequest. But, while the World ridiculed this unusual piece of Executorship, the Heirs themselves took the Administration upon them with wonderful Satisfaction; and each was greedy to get his Legacy into his possession. Within a very few Days after, the Legatee to whose share the Mother fell, happened to die too; and then the surviving Coheir, succeeding into the whole Concern, took particular good Care of the Mother; and, assoon as conveniently he could, enquired out convenient Matches for both, married his own only Daughter, and that of his deceased Friend, upon one and the same Day, and divided his whole Estate equally between them. Now, according to this Case thus stated, as you see, it hath been the constant Opinion of the Wisest Men, that He who died first, gave greater Demonstrations of his Friendship, and was a more bountiful Benefactor, than either of the Survivors; that he really bequeathed them the most valuable Inheritance, by putting into their Hands such occasions of doing good; and allowing them the Satisfaction of laying themselves out in his Service, as became their Character, and the Necessities of his own Family required.  
The Third Example goes higher still, and reaches to Life itself. And here we may reflect upon that well-known Story of two Friends. That a Tyrant had condemned one of them to die, and had appointed the Day and Hour of his Execution; but he with great Importunity obtained Leave to go and take Care of his Affairs and Family, upon this Condition, that he should give Security, and find one to be bound Body for Body, for his surrendering himself again at the Time prefixed; and in case he failed, than his Bail to undergo the same Capital Punishment, which had been awarded to his Principal. The Condition was readily accepted, and the Prisoner produces his Friend to be bound for him, who accordingly was imprisoned in the other's stead. The Day of Execution came, and this Bondsman prepared himself to die with all imaginable Cheerfulness. But, as he was going about it, the Condemned Person came in, released his Security, and offered himself to the fatal Stroke. This strange Generosity made such Impression upon the Tyrant, that, much out of Countenance, and full of Astonishment, he was conquered into Mercy; set them both at Liberty, and made it his Request, that these brave Men would accept of the Proffers he made of his Kindness and Affection, and do him the Honour to admit him into their Number, and reckon that they had now a Third sincere and generous Friend.   

CHAP. VIII. Mutual Faith, Fidelity; Perfidiousness, Secrecy.  
ALL Mankind are highly sensible, 
The Excellence of Fidelity.  and unanimously agreed, that Mutual Faith is the common Band and Cement, by which Human Society is held together, the very Bottom and Groundwork of all Justice; and even those perfidious Wretches, who are the most infamous in practice, and delight most in Falsehood and Wrong, cannot but acknowledge the Excellence of this Virtue, and that it is of infinite consequence to have it strictly and religiously observed. 
* Nihil augustius Fide, quae Justitiae Fundamentum est; nec ulla res vehementius Rempublicam continet & vitam. Sanctissimum humani pectoris Bonum.  Nothing, says Tully, is more noble, nothing more venerable than Fidelity; for This is the Foundation of Justice; it knits Men to one another, and contributes as much as any one thing whatsoever, both to the Security of the Public, and that of Private Persons. Faithfulness and Truth are the most Sacred, most reverend Excellencies and Endowments of a Human Mind.  

* 
Ante Jovem generata, Decus Diuûmque Hominûmque;  
Quâ sine non Tellus pacem, non aequora nôrunt;  
Justitiae consors, tacitumque in pectore Numen.   Eternal Truth, Sister and Twin to Jove,  
Glory of Men below, and Gods above;  
The vast expanded Globe's diffusive Soul,  
By thy fixed Laws, Sun, Stars, and Seas do roll.  
Firm on thy Base, and knit in Sacred Band,  
Peace, mutual Trust, and equal Justice stand.  
In Man thy Native Light is shed abroad,  
And every Breast is filled with a Domestic God.  
And yet, notwithstanding this general Consent in the Speculative part, 
The Rarity of it.  Men differ extremely, and in practice contradict themselves. For the World is full of Treachery and Falsehood; and very few shall we be able to find who are truly and entirely True and Just in their Deal. Nay, even those who make a Conscience of being so, yet are frequently guilty of Breach of Faith, such as not only the World does not easily discover, but such as they themselves who commit it, are not sensible of. For if they can but six upon any colourable Pretence to varnish over such an Action, and give it a tolerable good Face; they presently persuade themselves, that all is well, and they have done nothing amiss. Others there are eternally upon the Hunt for Niceties and subtle Evasions, by which to justify their Proceed; and here they retreat and shelter themselves. If the World take upon them to censure their Do, or their own Conscience be either Scrupulous before, or Clamorous afterward, they cast up an Entrenchment of Distinctions round about them; and under this Covert go on, without boggling, or being ashamed of any thing. Now, in order to the clearing all the Difficulties that may arise upon this Occasion, I shall endeavour to set this whole Matter in its true Light, and direct Men how to behave themselves. And the whole, I think, of what needs to be said, may conveniently enough be reduced to Four Considerations. The Person that engages his Faith; the Party to whom that Engagement is made; the Subject-Matter, or the Thing covenanted for; and the Manner or Form of entering into that Engagement.  
First, As as to the Person engaging his Faith, it is one necessary Qualification to the rendering that Promise valid and legal, that he have Power to promise, and to make it Good; If he be under the Direction, and at the Disposal of an other, he is in no Condition to engage at all; nor is there any Force in such a Covenant, till it be ratified and confirmed by the Person, under whose Authority the Promiser is. Thus God himself hath determined and stated the Matter at large, under the Levitical Law; 
Num. ch. xxx.  where the Vows of Wives, and Children, and others in a State of Pupillage and Subjection, are declared of none Effect, till known and approved by their Husbands, or Parents, or Guardians. And the Reason of this is plain, because Nature and Duty have vested these Persons with an Original and Antecedent Right in those under their Care, which no After-act of such, without Their Consent, can convey away, or disannul: They have nothing to give, and therefore they promise what is none of their own. Thus in the Roman Story, the Tribune Saturninus, and his Accomplices are esteemed to have been justly put to Death, notwithstanding they quitted the Capitol, (which they had rebelliously invaded, and possessed themselves of,) upon the Consul's Word of Honour. For these very Consuls were Subjects to the Commonwealth and Ministers of Public Justice only; and therefore they had no Right to promise Indemnity, for Crimes against the State and People of Rome in general But, when a Man is entirely at his own Disposal, and covenants for such Things as he hath an indisputable Right to make Good, he is obliged to keep his Word punctually, let him be otherwise never so Great, never so Absolute. The rather indeed upon these Considerations; because the more Absolute he is, the more Free he is to Promise, and the better Able to Perform. And therefore that common Maxim is a very Just and True One, That the bare Word of a Prince, aught to be as Sacred and Obligatory, as the solemnest Oath of a Private Man.  
As to the Person, to whom the Engagement is made, This is a Consideration, which makes but little Difference in the Case; for let him be Who or What he will, it ought to be discharged. There are but Two Exceptions which are sufficient to dissolve this Obligation, according to the Judgement of Those who have discussed this Point. The One is, if he did not accept of this Engagement, so as to rest satisfied in, or place his Dependence upon it, but required some other Security, and rested his Faith upon That: For, as the Giving of Faith ought to be looked upon as Sacred, so should the Receiving it be too; and Distrust in the one Party is no less a Disparagement to it, than Fallacy and Trick in the other. If it be not relied upon for the Sake of its own binding Force, the Confidence is lost and broke; and it ceases to be mutual Faith any longer. The demanding of Hostages, and keeping Men under Guard, and so entering into Caution, and requiring Pledges of any sort, is not trusting to Men's Truth, but to their Security; and it is Ridiculous and Senseless, to call This trusting to Men's Honesty. He that is confined, either by a Keeper, or a Prison, hath been false to no Engagement, if he make his Escape; nor can he be said to have deceived those, who never reposed any Confidence in him. Had such an one been left at large upon his Parole, or had he prevailed with others to stand bound for his Appearance; Honour and Conscience would have obliged him to suffer any Inconvenience rather than falsify his Word, or give up his Bail, or any manner of way disappoint the Expectations, and betray the Trust of those who depended upon him. And therefore the Reason of that Roman seems to carry a great deal of Force, 
* Vult sibi quisque credi, & habita Fides ipsam sibi obligat Fidem. Fides requirit Fiduciam, & relativa sunt.  Every Man is desirous to find Credit; and a Promise is then binding indeed, when an entire Dependence is reposed in it; For Faith is mutual, it implies and requires Trust and Belief in the Person to whom it is given; These two are Relatives, and, as such, stand and fall together.  
The other Exception is, If the Promise were conditional, and mutual, and the Person to whom it was made, broke Articles first. For in this Case (say some old Authors) Men are to be paid in their own Coin, and 
† Fragenti fidem fides frangatur eidem— Quando Tu me non habes pro Senatore, nec ego Te pro Consul.  He that breaks his Word, gives those he deals with a Privilege of doing so too; according to that Declaration of the Roman Senator; When you cease to treat me as a Member of the Senate, I shall think myself dispensed with from paying you the Respect due to a Consul. The false and perfidious Man hath forfeited all his Natural Right to Truth and Fair-dealing; For the Obligations of this kind, so far as they are founded in Nature, are Reciprocal and Universal; and therefore, whatever such an one can challenge, must be from some Supervening Title. But whatever is indented for by Positive Agreement afterwards, cancels all the Advantage, that might otherwise have been taken of his former Unfaithfulness, and makes it Unreasonable to revenge and retaliate it. These Two Cases are generally looked upon, as Reservations from the general Rule of being punctual to one's Word; and we shall do well to give even these a Careful Censideration, for perhaps there are some Junctures and Occasions, in which They may not be able to bear us out; or at best, if it be our Privilege to regulate ourselves by them, it is not our Duty to do so; and a Man may sometimes see good Cause, rather to submit to an Inconvenience, and forego the Use of his Liberty, than to stretch it to the utmost Point, and do All, that in Point of Rigour he might well enough justify himself in. But however; allowing the most that can be made of the Matter, where the Promise does not fall within the Compass of these Two Cases, no Consideration relating to the Parry for whose Assurance it was made, can excuse us from looking upon it as Sacred and Indispensable. 

1. For First, 
Ch. 16.  a Man is obliged to keep his Word with his Subjects, as will be proved and enforced more at large in the following part of this Treatise; and no Authority, though never so Arbitrary and Full, can set him above the Obligations of Conscience in this particular.  
2. So is he likewise towards his Enemy; witness That so much Celebrated Act of Regulus, the Edict of the Roman Senate, against all those to whom Pyrrhus had given leave to go to Rome upon their Promise of returning; Witness again Camillus, who would not so much as reap the Advantage of another's Treachery, though he was to have had no part in the Fact itself, but sent the Children and their villainous Schoolmaster bach to the Falisci.  
3. Nor have considering Persons thought themselves at Liberty to be unfaithful even to Robbers, and notorious Malefactors; for Pompey was punctual with the Pirates and Banditi, and Augustus was so to Crocotas.  
4. As little Privilege to be false does any Difference in Religion give one, as is sufficiently evident from the Instance of Joshua and the Gibeonites. The safer and more honourable Way therefore, is never to treat, or enter into any manner of Terms with those whom we think unworthy of common Honesty from us; to disdain any Capitulation, and contracting any sort of Alliance with Wretches we pretend such Detestation to, is much more agreeable to the Pretensions Men make to Zeal and Religion. And to Persons possessed with so great an Abhorrence to Heretics and Apostates, much may be said for this. Perhaps indeed, no other Reason but extreme Necessity, and the hopes of reducing them; or the Prospect of some very great and Public Good, by amicable Accommodations, should be sufficient to induce them to plight their Faith to them; but if they condescend thus far, no question they are bound to stand by their own Act and Deed; for sure They that are good enough to be treated with, are sit to have the Terms of the Treaty made good to them.    
As to our Third Consideration, 
Mat● the anise.  which respects the Matter of the Promise, if That be unlawful or impossible to be performed by us, we are absolutely discharged from the Obligation; And in all Cases of Injustice, the best thing we can do, is to disclaim and get quit of it; for the Performance would but aggravate our Crime, and make our Gild double, by the obstinate persisting in it. All other Excuses, such as Loss, or Displeasure, Difficulty, Inconvenience, the Trouble, or the Expense of the Undertaking, are too Weak to pass Muster. And of this the old Romans have left us many brave Examples, who very frequently 
* Quibus tantâ utilitate Fides antiquior fuit.  used to forego very considerable Advantages, rather than be guilty of any thing, that might bring Truth and Fidelity into Question.  
The last Particular relates to the Manner or Formalities made use of in the Act of engaging; 
The Manner of premising.  for, as all the Ways of binding our Consciences are not equally Solemn, so neither are all equally Obligatory; and therefore several Doubts and Controversies have been started upon this Point. Several Persons are of Opinion, that a Promise extorted by Force, and Fear, or obtained Fraudulently and by Surprise, does leave no Tie upon the Conscience: Because, in both these Cases, the Will hath not its free Course; nor can the Judgement act with that impartiality and clearness, which is necessary to the making a just Determination: Others again tell you quite otherwise; that the Will is not capable of being constrained; and though the Choice be not absolutely voluntary and free, yet there is Choice enough left to induce an Obligation. Accordingly we find, that Joshua was far from thinking himself at Liberty; nay, that he was commanded to fulfil the Covenant made with the Gibeonites; though perfectly tricked into it by Surprise, and a false Representation of their Case. The most I think that can be said, (if thus much may be said) in Favour of the Former Opinion is, That a bare Promise may be dispensed with in such Circumstances; but if that Engagement were confirmed by the Solemnity of an Oath, a Man must look upon himself to be bound by it: Bound, though not in Respect of strict Equity, and the Merits of the Cause; yet in Respect to the Name of the Just and Holy God, who was invoked as a Witness and a Judge upon that Occasion. But that a Man in such Cases may be very well allowed to seek any Redress or Reparation, which the Laws will give him, and which he hath not positively tied up his own Hands from requiring, for such Violence or Deceit. And this Resolution too seems to have some Countenance given to it, by the Method Jeshua took, who, when the Fraud was discovered, did not treat those Gibeonites as common Friends and Allies, but made them Hewers of Wood, and Drawers of Water; and though he spared their Lives, revenged their Falsehood, and crafty Dissimulation, by keeping them under, and employing them in servile and laborious Offices. That the Formality of an Oath, and interessing Almighty God in our Promises adds to the Engagement, and makes it more forcible and binding, no Doubt can be made; for Breach of Faith is then a double Offence, and Aggravates that Unfaithfulness which is bad in its self, with the Addition of wilful Perjury, which is much Worse. But to think to tie Men up by new and fantastical Oaths, as some do, is altogether useless and unnecessary; and so is the multiplying of common Oaths without some urgent and very important Occasion. For it is certain, that honest Men need not be thus dealt with; and those that are not so, will be bound by nothing we can devise. The best and most commendable Course is to Swear by the Name of the One True Everlasting God; and to do this with a becoming Reverence, and serious Deliberation; as considering, that he is a severe Avenger of those who take his Name in vain; that they must give Account for all breach of Faith, and Trust; but especially, that he will be very rigorous with those, who by a most monstrous Hardiness, and detestable Impiety, take Advantage of the Solemnity of an Oath; and turn the Use of his Name into an Opportunity of deceiving the more effectually.  
For in Truth, if we consider the Matter nicely, it will appear that Perfidiousness and Perjury are more execrable Villainies, and higher Affronts to Almighty God, than even bold and avowed Atheism itself. The Atheist, who disbelieves a God, acts more consistently with his own Principles, and dishonours him less, in thinking there is no such Being at all; than he who is persuaded, and acknowledges that there is a God, and yet in despite of his own Sense, and in defiance of the Divine Justice, mocks him, by calling upon him to attest a Lie, and will not stand by what he hath appealed to that Allseeing Judge for the Confirmation of. Now he that swears with an Intention to deceive, does plainly mock God; and shows that he is afraid of Man only, but under no Concern for what God can do in vindication of his injured Honour. And sure to be mistaken in one's Notions concerning God, is much more pardonable, than to be rightly informed, and fully convinced, and yet to trample all those Convictions under Foot, and put a studied Affront upon the Deity we confess, and pretend to adore. The Horror and Absurdity of Falsehood and Perjury, cannot be more fully and significantly expressed, than by that Character given of it, by One of the Ancients, who calls this, The giving a public Testimony of our Despising God, and standing in Awe of Men. And what can be more Monstrous, than to show one's self a Coward with regard to poor Mortals, of the same Frailties and Infirmities with ourselves, and Hector's with regard to the Irresistible Vengeance and Power of an Omnipotent God? But, besides the horrible Impiety and Irreligion of such Proceed, the False and Treacherous Man is a Traitor and Mortal declared Enemy to all Laws, and the very Being of Human Society: For mutual Confidence is the very Link, that holds all this together; and if once that Knot be untwisted or broken asunder, the whole Chain falls to pieces immediately. Words are then but Air and empty Noise; and yet by these it is, that all Commerce can only be maintained; so that when Credit can no longer be given with Safety to what People say, all Business is at an end, and no new Method can be found to hold them in.  
One Branch of this Fidelity remains yet unmentioned; 
Keeping of Secrets.  which is that of Keeping the Secrets imparted to, and entrusted with us. And This is more troublesome than People commonly imagine; especially, when they are such as Great Men have either committed to us, or are concerned in. Were the Difficulties that attend this Duty rightly considered, it would give a mighty Check to curious and inquisitive Tempers. For sure, that Man acts most prudently, who declines this Trust as much, and knows as little of this kind, as possibly he can: For he that thrusts himself under these Obligations, entangles himself in more Snares, and Uneasinesses, than he is ware of. For, besides the constant Guard he must keep upon his Tongue, that none of these Things make their Escape, he falls under a Necessity many times of lying or disowning what he knows, in a manner irreconcilable with Sincerity and a Good Conscience; or at least of evading it by such mean and little Shifts, as are very grating to a Man of Generosity and a Great Soul. This therefore of avoiding such Troublesome and Dangerous Knowledge, is the first and best Advice. But if there be no Remedy, and Men will unlock their Breasts to us, notwithstanding all the modest Pains we are at to be excused, the Next Rule is, To be Faithful and Exact in the safe Custody of all committed to us under the Seal of Secrecy; and to this Purpose to practise a prudent Reserve in all our Conversation; Which is an Art, that every Man cannot be Master of; for it requires something of a Disposition in Nature, as well as Art and Industry afterwards, and the Sense of that Obligation we are under in these Cases; Attendency to Silence, as well as a Custom of it: For the open and gay Tempers are always in Danger; and They who affect to Talk much in all Companies, will be sure very often to say a great many Things, which ought to have been suppressed.   

CHAP. IX. Truth, and Freedom in Advising and Reproving.  
BY Truth here, 
It's Excellence.  I mean the venturing to say bold and unacceptable things; for free and cordial Advice, and Reproof is a most wholesome and admirable Medicine: It is one of the most noble and useful Offices of Friendship; the best Argument, that a Man's Affection is Sincere, when he is content to run the Hazard of giving some little Uneasiness, in Prospect of doing a great deal of Good: For it is Profiting, and not Pleasing, that every Friend should aim at; and one of the most important, as well as most express Commands, which the Gospel hath left upon us with regard to Conversation, is This; If thy Brother offend against thee, admonish him.  
There is no Man so perfect, 
The Usefalness.  so circumspect in all his Behaviour, as not sometimes to stand in need of having this Physic applied to him. But Those, who are prosperous and great in the World, seem to require it more than others; For there is somewhat in that Condition, which by naturally disposing Men to a lose Gaiety, and unthinking Heedlessness, makes it exceeding difficult and rare, to be very fortunate and very wise at the same time. But especially Princes, who are always in view, and curiously watched; who sustain a public Character, and have an infinite deal of Business constantly upon their Hands; who are fain to take things upon Trust, from the Observation and Report of other People; and who are used to have by much the greatest part of what is true, and highly concerns them to know, concealed from them; These Persons above all others have very great need to be freely dealt with, and set right in their Proceed: And they who are not so by the Persons about them, either run a desperate Hazard for want of it, or else are wise and penetrating, much above the rate of common Men, if they do well without it.  
And yet this Office, 
The rarity and difficulty of it.  as necessary and useful as it is, is discharged faithfully by very few. For indeed, few are capable of discharging it; There being Three Qualifications requisite to capacitate Men for it. These are, Judgement or Discretion; Freedom or Courage to speak what one thinks; and Affection or Fidelity. All These make the Composition perfect; and all must concur, to give a Relish and due Temper to each other. But if Men had all these Accomplishments, yet it is to be questioned, whether they would put them in practice. So that the Difficulty is double: For very few undertake this ungrateful Office for fear of displeasing; and of those who have Sincerity enough to attempt, few have Skill enough to perform it as it should be. Now This is an extremely nice Undertaking; and if ill done, like a Medicine improperly given, tho' never so Sovereign in its own Nature, it puts the Patient to a World of Uneasiness, and is sure to do more hurt than good. The Effect of it is only to harden him the more; and thus Reproof hath the same Operation that Flattery would have; only with this Difference, that the One gives Pain and Resentment, and the Other Pleasure and Self-Satisfaction. For, as excellent and noble as Truth is, yet hath it not the Privilege of being always seasonable and becoming; but requires a great many favourable Circumstances to soften and recommend it. For, let a Man's Intention and Meaning be never so Holy, and the Substance of his Advice never so excellent, yet there may be Faults in the applying it; and such as, that it were as well, and perhaps much better let alone.  
Now, 
Rules for it  That we may know how to govern ourselves in so very ticklith a Point, I shall take the Liberty to offer these following Directions. Which yet are to be looked upon, as calculated for such Persons and Circumstances, where something of Distance, and Ceremony, and a Fear of being offensive, may be expected. For, in case there be any intimate Familiarity, or particular Confidence; any Power or Authority in the Person reproving, that may set them above such Formalities, than all the necessity of observing these following Rules, is quite superseded. But They, who cannot pretend to the Privilege of an open and unrestrained Freedom, will do well, 

1. To have a due regard to Time and Place; for a great deal depends upon the Nicking of these Two. For Instance, It should not be done at a Public Entertainment, nor amongst Persons met together for Mirth and Diversion; for This is to be very impertinent, and to spoil good Company. Nor is it seasonable, when we see the Party in some more than ordinary Trouble, Melancholy, and out of Humour, or under some very sore Affliction. This looks like an Act of Hostility, and barbarous Insulting; as if we took the Advantage of his Misfortunes, or Dejection of Mind, and only waited for an Opportunity to grieve, and tease, and quite oppress him; when his Condition calls rather for our Comfort, and Encouragement, and Assistance. It is an Act of great Cruelty to chide Men in Distress; and Perseus King of Macedon was so incensed at this ill Treatment, that he killed two of his particular Friends, for presuming to make this Addition to his Calamity.  
2. It must not be done for all Faults indifferently; Not for such as are inconsiderable, and of no very ill Consequence; for This savours of Peevishness and Ill-nature, and betrays too much of Eagerness and Delight in this, at best ungrateful, Office. A Man will be apt to tell himself, that such a Man is fond and glad of such Opportunities, and makes use of them, more to gratify his own Spleen, than with any Design of profiting his Friend. Nor yet should it be done for very gross, notorious, and dangerous Actions; such as cannot but leave a Sting behind them, and the Enormity whereof he must needs be affected with, without our awakening his Conscience, or taking the trouble of working him up to a Sense of them. For he will be sure, upon such Occasions, to dread the Reproach and the Uneasiness of an Admonition; and will fancy that we lie upon the Catch for his Fall, and labour to put him quite out of Conceit with himself.  
3. This Admonition and Reproof ought to be private, that there may be no Witnesses of his Disgrace; for it is very grievous to be publicly exposed. We are told of a Young Man, who was so overwhelmed with Shame and Confusion at a Rebuke given him by Pythagoras, that he could not bear to outlive it, but immediately went and hanged himself. And Plutarch delivers it as his Opinion, that the Provocation which enraged Alexander, and transported him to the killing his old Friend Clitus, was not so much any Offence he took at what he said, as the Rudeness of saying what he did before Company. More particularly yet, We must be sure to forbear all Liberties of this kind, before those Persons, whose Approbation and Esteem, either the Person is ambitious and tender of, or the Character he bears renders necessary to him. And therefore it is not to be done to either Husband or Wife before each other; nor to a Parent before Children; nor to a Master before his Servants, nor to a Minister or Teacher before his Parishioners or Scholars.  
4. It should be delivered with a plain, easy, unaffected Freedom; somewhat that looks unstudied, and as it were by the buy: And, to be sure, without any regard to private Interest, or the least Appearance of Passion and Disorder.  
5. This is capable of being sostened a little, by including our own selves, and not seeming to confine the Blame to Him alone, as if it were a strange or particular thing; expressing our Sense likewise in general Terms; as thus: We are all apt to forget ourselves upon these Occasions; One would wonder what Men think of, when they do such things; or the like.  
6. A Man should always begin with the Commendations of something that is good or well-done in his Friend, and close all with Tenders of Service and Assistance; (This sweetens and takes off very much from the Smart and Severity of the Correction; and makes the necessary bitter Pill go down more glibly) And then by comparing these things together, we may show the Miscarriage more evidently; as thus: Such a Thing becomes you, and you do mighty well in it; I wish I could say as much of this: Or, Good lack! what a difference there is between such an Action of Yours, and such an one! Who could ever imagine that Pieces so unlike could ever be done by the same Hand?  
7. It is likewise advisable, to express the Fault in Phrases as soft and gentle as we can, and such as fall very much short of the Enormity and real Proportion of the thing. For instance; instead of You have done very ill; to say, Sure you did not consider what you did; you were mistaken, or not well ware; or the like. Instead of Have nothing to do with this Woman, why should you ruin yourself upon her Account? Pray never think of entertaing a Woman, who will certainly be the Ruin of you: Instead of desiring him not to bear such an one a Grudge; to beg, that be would engage in no dispute, nor concern himself with him.  
8. Lastly, When the Business is over, a Man must not immediately leave the Party with uneasy Impressions upon his Mind; for these will but ferment there, and gall him; and therefore it is necessary he should stay with him till all that Uneasiness be got over: In order whereunto, he must contrive to turn his Discourse upon some common entertaining Subject, which may divert the present remembrance of the Reprehension, and bring them to part very good Friends, and in perfect Humour.     

CHAP. X. Of Flattery, Lying, and Dissimulation.  
FLattery is a most dangerous Poison to all private Persons, that drink and suck it in. 
Flattery.  But as for Princes, it is almost the Only, the Universal Cause of their Ruin, and infinitely fruitful in Mischiefs to their Subjects and Government in general, by betraying them to, and supporting them in their Tyranny and Maladministration. It is a Thousand times worse than False-witness: That deceives and mis-leads the Judge, it draws a Sentence from him, wicked and unreasonable in itself; but not so with regard to Him; for his Will and Judgement are blameless: They proceed according as Matters appear in Evidence; and so the Man preserves his Integrity still: But here the very Mind and Judgement is debauched; the Soul is charmed and bewitched, made incapable of improving in the Knowledge of the Truth, and utterly averse from the Love of it. It is a Rank and spreading Evil; for if once a Prince be corrupted by Flattery, and fond of it, there is a necessity that all about him, who desire to be well in his Opinion, and hope to make their Fortunes by his Favour, should turn Flatterers. For Interest and Ambition will not fail to make Converts enough; and the Rule these govern themselves by, is to study and practise what they see agreeable, and likely to recommend them most to the good Graces of their Patron. Whatever can be said to show the Excellence of Truth, all That proves the Baseness and Deformity of Flattery: They who esteem and adore the one, must in proportion despise and detest the other; which indeed is nothing else but the Corruption and Perverting of the Truth. It is a pitiful mean Vice, the Submission of a poor degenerate Spirit; an Effeminacy and Weakness, as unbecoming a Man, as Garishness, and Affected Confidence is to a Woman. 

* 
Ut Matrona Meritrici dispar erit, atque  
Discolor, infido Scurrae distabit Amicus.  Horat. Lib. XVIII.  Not Friends and faithless Flatterers differ more,  
Than a chaste Woman, and a common Whore.   
Upon this Account Flatterers are compared to Strumpets, to Sorcerers, Poisoners, Public Cheats, Debauchers of Mankind; nay, to Wolves, and Foxes; and a wise Author declares it better to fall among Birds of Prey, and be Crows Meat, than come into the Hands of Flatterers.  
There are two Sorts of Persons, who lie open to Flattery; and as they never want sawning People, who are always ready to offer them this Trash; so they for the most part as greedily receive and swallow it. These are Princes, with whom these Hucksters get into Credit, and grow acceptable by this means; and the Ladies, who are so marvellously delighted with hearing well of themselves, that the most usual and successful Stratagem for corrupting their Virtue, is generally thought to be the entertaining them with their own Commendations.  
It is really very hard to avoid the Danger of Flattery, and so to arm and strengthen our Minds, that they shall be proof against all its Insinuations. 'Tis particularly so to Women, by reason of their natural Disposition, which by a Weakness almost universal to the Sex, inclines them to be fond of Vanity, and greedy of Praise. And it must needs be so to Princes; by reason their Relations, and Friends, and prime Ministers, such as they must of necessity hold constant conversation with, are all bred up to this Trade, and value themselves upon being expert and dextrous in it. Alexander, who was so great a Monarch, with all the Philosophy of his Tutor Aristotle to Arm him, could not stand against it. And, tho' we commonly pretend to lessen and condemn Kings for suffering themselves to be thus imposed upon, yet there is never an one of us all, but, if we were in Their Circumstances, and perpetually laid at by Parasites and Sycophants, as They are, we should be a Thousand Times worse than They. No Man of ordinary Condition can be a competent Judge in this case, because he cannot have any Thing like the Trials and Temptations of an elevated Post. But, tho' Flattery, like Diseases, do not seize all Persons and Constitutions alike, yet contagious it is, and no Man lives utterly out of the reach of its venomous Infection. There is somewhat so agreeable, that even They who hate and seem most to reject it, conceive a secret Pleasure, and shut the Door against it so faintly, that after many pretended Denials, it is let in, and kindly entertained in private. That which adds to the danger is, that Men are tainted by it insensibly; for it is so cunningly varnished over, so disguised with a Mask of Friendship, which it affects always to wear, that one cannot very easily distinguish between them. It usurps and invades all her good Offices, puts on her Air and Countenance, calls itself by her Name, counterfeits her Voice; in short, observes the Tone, the Mien, the Readliness, the Zeal; so that you would swear it could be none but she. The Business of Flattery is to please, and be taking: It pays marvellous Respect and Deference, is very liberal in Praises, exceeding officious and eager to serve the Person applied to, and careful to be always in good Humour; or indeed in any Humour that prevails, and will be most agreeable at that time. Nay, to show how exquisite the Hypocrisy of this Vice is, it goes a great deal farther, and ventures upon the last and highest, the severest and most dangerous Act of Friendship, and is free and full in its Expostulations and Reproofs. In own Word, the Flatterer's Care is always to profess and make himself believed much more sincere and passionate in his Affection and Concern for the Person whom he addresses to, than he is or can be to Him in return. But all these boasting and pompous Pretensions notwithstanding, there is not in the World any thing more destructive of true Friendship: Ill Language, Affronts, open and avowed Enmity, are not in reality greater Contradictions, how different soever they are in Figure and outward Show. It is the very Bane of all Sincerity and true Love; they are irreconcilable, and cannot dwell together. 
* Non potes me simul Amico & Adulatore uti.  When once I am your Friend, I cease to Flatter; and when I begin to Flatter, from that very instant you may conclude me none of your Friend. And therefore that Observation is most true, 
† Meliora vulnera diligentis, quàm oscula blandientis.  That the Wounds and Strokes of a Friend are better and more desirable, than the Kisses of a Flatterer. Those, tho' we feel some Pain in them, are yet well intended, and may contribute to our Benefit and Amendment. These are soft and smooth, but full of Treachery and Mischief; and the End of all those kind Caresses, is to keep us unacquainted with ourselves, and so to lead us hoodwinked into Ruin.  
Since therefore it so highly concerns us not to be mistaken upon this Occasion, and since the knowing these two so very contrary Qualities asunder, is no such obvious and easy Matter; I shall endeavour to draw off the Vizor; and draw, if not the whole Face, yet so many of the Features and principal Lines of it, as that by these Strokes my Reader may be able to distinguish Flattery and Friendship from each other. 

1. First, Flattery is always followed close at the Heels by private Interest and Advantage: This is the Scent it follows, and you may know it by the manner of Hunting, and the Game it pursues: But a Friend is generous, and undesigning; hath no Byends, nor is Self at the bottom of what he does continually.  
2. A Flatterer is perpetually veering and changeable in his Judgement and Opinion of Things; like a Looking-Glass, that readily reflects all Faces, or Wax prepared to receive any manner of Impressions. He is a Chameleon, a Polypus, never of one Colour and Complexion, longer than you determine and encourage him to it. If you appear to commend and love a Man, he admires and exalts him to the Skies; pretend Dislike, or Resentment, or Aversion, He tacks about straight, and is in with you There too; he censures, condemns, aggravates, as he finds You stand affected: For You are the Principal, the Substance, the Original; and He your Image, your Representation, the Shadow, the Copy, the constant Attendant and Mimic of all you are, and say, and do; affecting every Motion, and putting on every Shape, as he sees his Pattern alter. Whereas a Friend is firm, and uniform, and consistent with himself; For Truth and Reason are the Compass he steers by, and these are fixed and unchangeable.  
3. Another Mark to distinguish him by, is his Carriage; which is always eager, and officious to a great excess; and especially in such things as he is sensible will be observed, or otherwise like to come to the Knowledge of the Person he addresses to; and, as in all other respects, so is he particularly forward in his Commendations, in proffering his Service and doing every little thing that may look like Deference and Zeal. In all his Behaviour there is nothing of Steadiness or Moderation; and yet, as fair a Show as all this makes outwardly to the World, there is not any solid Bottom, not one Grain of cordial Affection within. Now a Friend is the very Reverse of all This; an Enemy to Ostentation and large Pretences; and content, that the Sincerity of his Kindness should prove itself by solid and substantial Testimonies: Not at all the less disposed to act as becomes his Character, tho' he were sure that he should never be taken notice of, or thanked for it: And therefore the Integrity of his Heart and Intentions, often puts him upon studying secret ways of obliging; and, provided his own Duty be done, and his Conscience satisfied, he can very well abate the publishing his Endeavours to serve his Friend.  
4. The Flatterer constantly yields the Prize to his Patron, declares him in the Right in all he says, applauds his Prudence in all he does, and this without any other Design, but only to please, and render himself agreeable. Hence it is, that he over-shoots the Mark so much, commending All without Distinction, and All extravagantly and in excess. Nay sometimes he will not grudge to do it at his own expense, and to lessen his own Desert, that he may magnisie his Patron's. Like Wrestlers, that stoop and bend, only to show the Cunning of their Play, and mend their Hold; that so they may gain the Advantage of throwing the Adversary a fairer Fall. Now a Friend goes to work plainly and bluntly; Preference and Esteem are of small Consideration with Him; nor is his Design so much to please and minister Delight, as to bring substantial Prosit, and to do much Good; and what way this is done is of little concern to him; he is not nice and scrupulous in the Choice of Methods; but, like a good Physician, considers the Case and the Necessities of his Patient; and prepares his sharp and painful, or his gentler Remedies, not according as they suit the Palate, but the Exigencies of his Friend. Recovery and Amendment is his End and Business, and all things else are indifferent to him, except so far as they may prove subservient to this Great Design.  
5. Sometimes he will needs take upon him to rebuke his Friend, but he does it so very aukwardly, that a Man may easily discern This to be only a Copy of his Countenance; and that at the same time he puts on the Hardiness of a Friend, his chief Care is not to incur Displeasure by handling Matters too roughly. To this purpose he will be sure to six upon light and trivial Faults only, or some very excusable Defect, pretending himself blind all the while to those that are grosser, and much more obnoxious to Censure and Reproach. He will express himself with great Severity and Bitterness against Relations, or Acquaintance, or Servants, as if They were wanting in the Diligence and Respects due from them. Or else he will introduce the Liberty he takes with a Pretence of some idle Stories he hath heard, and profess great Solicitude to be informed of the Truth from his own Mouth, that so he may be capable of doing him Service in a just Vindication of his Innocence. And, when his Patron either denies the Fact, or excuses himself, he will not fail to catch at this Opportunity of exspatiating in his Praise, I confess, Sir, says he, this was a wonderful Surprise to me, and what I could not prevail with myself to give Credit to. I was satisfied I knew you better; for how is it possible you should be guilty of any such Thing? I told your Enemies who taxed you with Injustice, that they, must pardon me, if I was peremptory to the Contrary. For who could imagine that you should invade another's Right, who are so far from insisting Rigorously upon your own? One, who to my Knowledge is so Generous, so Bountiful, so Charitable, could never, you may be sure, pass upon me for a griping or covetous Man. Such Jealousies, I said, might find Entertainment with Strangers, but with me, who have the Honour to be so well acquainted with your Virtues, they would all go for nothing. Or else he takes Occasion to chide him kindly, for having no more Care of himself, and exposing that Person so much, which is of such infinite Importance to the Public; as one of the Senators particularly is said to have curried Favour with Tiberius, in a full Senate, after a very nauseous and fulsome manner of Complementing.  
6. In a Word; I shall need to add but this One Mark of Distinction more. A true Friend always regards, and advises, and promotes that which is agreeable to Reason, and Duty; he consults the Character and Circumstances of the Person; and observes what is sittest and most becoming; but the Flatterer spies out a blind Side, and strikes in with Pleasure, and Interest, and Inclination. So that no Man is so proper an Instrument for corrupting men's Principles, and soothing them in all manner of Extravagance and Vice: None so improper for the putting forward any thing of Virtue, or Difficulty; or Danger. Indeed he is like an Ape, that serves to none of those necessary Uses which other Creatures are assisting to us in; but seems cut out merely for the Jest and Diversion of Mankind.    
To this Vice of Flattery, That of Lying is very near of Kin, 
Lying.  and usually goes along with it: And This is likewise of the same infamous Quality; a mean, and dishonourable, and rascally Vice. For what can be more Despicable and Base, than for a Man to speak contrary to his own Knowledge and Sense of Things? The first and boldest Step toward the Corruption of Manners, is the banishing Truth out of our Discourse; as on the Contrary, the Courage and Resolution to be true, is, according to Pindar's Account of it, the Beginning and Foundation of a Brave and Eminent Virtue. But, besides the Despicableness of this Vice in itself, it is likewise highly Destructive to Humane Society. For we cease to be Men, and are lose from all the mutual Ties, and Securities possible to be had upon one another, when mutual Confidence, and Truth, the only ground of it, is lost. Speech indeed is rightly said to capacitate Mankind for Society; but if once That be abused to Falsehood and Deceit, Silence is a Thousand times the more sociable Quality of the Two. If a Lie indeed were constant to itself, and wore but one Face, as Truth does, than there would be some Hopes at least, and the Mischief were more tolerable; for we might depend upon it, that the direct Contrary of what the Liar says is True. But alas! it is our Misfortune, that the Reverse of Truth hath a Hundred Thousand several Shapes, and the Space it ranges in is Infinite. Good, (that is, Virtue and Truth) is certain and circumscribed, staked down to One single Spot, and fixed beyond the Power of Variation, as there can be but One Way to hit the Mark. But Evil, (that is, Vice and Error) is Infinite and Uncertain, and there are a Thousand Ways to shoot beside the Mark: For short or beyond, too high or too low, on this or on that Side, all are wide of the Matter. Without all Doubt could Mankind be made duly sensible of the Horror, and mischievous Consequences of Lying, they would be so far from practising or giving the least Countenance to such Wickedness, that they would set themselves to drive it out of the World with Fire and Sword; and think no Punishments too severe, no Methods too cruel for the utter Extermination of it. And This is a good Hint to those, who make the Education of Youth their Care, with what Vigilance the very first Tendencies to this Evil aught to be observed, and the Growth of it prevented and opposed. This should be their first Business, and the Checking of a positive and obstinate Humour their next; and both these should be taken down betimes; for otherwise the Corruption of Nature will be beforehand with us; and it is scarce to be conceived indeed, how very early such rank Weeds spring, and how prodigiously they shoor, if not nipped in the Bud.  
But Men may be guilty of Lying in their Actions, as well as in their Discourse; 
Hypocrisy.  for what else is all that Hypocrisy and Dissimulation, so generally practised in the World? This, I confess, is represented as an Accomplishment, and hath obtained the Character and Reputation of Complaisance and good Breeding. But yet, let the Men of refined Manners say what they will, it is in reality a Blemish and Dishonour, a mean Submission, and base Degeneracy of Soul, for a Man to appear abroad always in Disguise. To walk with a Mask, and not dare to show his Face to the World. Let Men talk of Honour as long as they will, Honour can never be consistent with Dissimulation; and He that is an Hypocrite is certainly the greatest Coward, the most abject Slave.  
Now, whoever he be, that sets up this Trade, he will find enough to do to maintain his Credit, or his Ease by it. For a Hypocrite is under perpetual Constraint. And what a Torment must it needs be, for a Man always to appear Different from what he is really, and in his own Nature? What a constant Eye must he have upon every Word, and Action, what Jealousies of all he converses with, what anxious Fears of being discovered and exposed? The Difficulty and Disquiet of concealing one's Temper, is a perfect Hell upon Earth; and the being found out is an intolerable Confusion and Reproach. If there be such a Thing as perfect Ease and Pleasure attainable here below, it is certainly to be found only in a Freedom and Openness, and Security of Mind and Conversation. And a Man had better let the World see the Worst of him, though he Happen to be something less in their Esteem for his plain downright Behaviour; than be always straining to counterfeit some good Qualities which he hath not, or to keep some ill one's out of Sight. So Amiable, so Noble is this Frankness of Temper, that even Reputation itself, as valuable as it is, cannot make sufficient Reparation for the parting with it.  
But, besides that this is a difficult and laborious Trade, it is a poor and paltry One; for most Men Break of it in a very little while. Dissimulation cannot go very sat; It will be discovered at one time or other, and leave those that depend upon it, in the Lurch. It is a common Observation, and daily experience proves it to be as true as it is common, that Nothing which is either Violent or Counterfeit continues long. Herein, Art and Force differ from Nature, that They decay by Time, and This improves by it. And, when once such Men are detected, all they get by it is, never to be trusted afterwards; to have no Stress laid upon what they Do, nor any Credit given to what they Say. Nay, Truth itself suffers by this means, and can gain no reception, when it comes out of their Mouths. And how Despicable a Wretch is That, whose Authority is lost, and whose Example goes for nothing; whose whole Life is looked upon as one continued Banter; and his most serious Actions are thought to smell so rank of Trick and Design, that they only serve to awaken men's Suspicion, and warn them to be more upon their Guard?  
Now, this is a Case capable of being misunderstood, and misapplyed; and therefore, as there is some room left for, so indeed there is great need of Prudence and Moderation, to prevent an Error in the other Extreme. For if a Man's Disposition be crooked and deformed; if there be any thing vicious and offensive to the World; this aught certainly to be kept in; or, to speak more properly, be brought into Shape: For there is a vast Difference between living easy and unconstrained; and being rude, and slovenly, and careless in our Behaviour. We should not take Pains to impose upon those we converse with; but we are not therefore bound to turn their Stomaches. A Man should not tell a Lie; but he is not obliged to tell all the Truth neither. That then, which we are to take Care of in this Point, is, to speak as much as is convenient, and to be sure that all we do speak be True; To distinguish between Twattling and Openness in Conversation; and in Behaviour between a Freedom consistent with Sincerity and Good Manners; and a Morose Indifference, which breaks through all Reserves, and declares War with all Decency and Respect.  
There are indeed Two sorts of People, in whom Hypocrisy is in some Degree excusable; I might say indeed, Necessary and Becoming; but the Reasons which vindicate and uphold them in it, are very different from each other. The First are Princes, who, as I have observed before, may sometimes be obliged to dissemble upon very important Considerations. The Public Good, the Safety of their Persons, the Peace of the Government may require it; all these might be ruined and lost, if the Counsels and Methods that support them, were carried so openly, that every Slander by could see through, and penetrate into the bottom of the governor's Designs. And therefore, taking the Condition of the World as it now stands, so full of Treachery and Villainy; it is no Derogation to Justice or Religion to say, that Princes may be allowed some Measures in their Public Character, which neither They, nor any other Man, is privileged to take in his private one. Would all their Subjects be Faithful and do their Duty, than indeed the Rules of Political, and Private Virtue would be the same; but now Men must be governed, not according to what they should be, but to what they actually are. And, as Laws, when made for the Reformation of Vice, suppose the worst of Men; so the Administrators of those Laws, must by their Wariness and Wisdom provide against the Worst.  
The Second sort of Dissimulation in some Degree allowable, is in Women; and the Reason that enforces it, is Decency, and the Gracefulness of Modesty and Reserve, in Their Sex more especially: For what would be interpreted Freedom and Assuredness in a Man, would in one of them be condemned for Impudence. And therefore the little Disguises in their Carriage and Looks, the making up their Mouth, and affected Ignorances', look pretty enough; and have a becoming Air of Bashfulness and Innocence: And besides, These do no manner of hurt; for they pass for Things of Course, and no body but Fools and Men utterly unacquainted with the World, can ever be imposed upon by them. But This is a Trouble I might have spared myself; for the Sex are so naturally addicted to Hypocrisy, that it is very needless to recommend, or to instruct them in it. They are indeed a fair Outside all over; their Faces, their , their Talk, their Looks, their Smiles, their Tears, have all but too much of Art in them; and are contrived to make a Show: Nay, which is still Worse, they do not only dissemble with the Living, but with the Dead too; The Long Veil, and the Dark Room; the Bed so many Days, and the Chamber so many Weeks; what are these but the Pomp and Pretence of Sorrow. Appearances which all indifferently are obliged to make, whether for good or bad Husbands, in point of Decency, forsooth, and conformity to Custom; when yet there is so little at the Bottom of this composed Formality, and the Farce is so very Gross, that many of these disconsolate Widows have much ado to hold their Countenances. It was observed long since, that 
* Jactantiùs moerent quae minus dolent.  Counterfeit Grief is always most Ambitious to show itself; and a Man would almost be tempted to suspect, that all those Solemn Fopperies, above the Reasonable and comely Expressions of Grief, were invented to make out in Ostenation, what was waming in the Reality of their Concern.   

CHAP. XI. Of Beneficence and Gratitude.  
THE Art of doing and receiving Good Offices, as That Respects the Beneficence of the Donor, and the Obligation and Gratitude in the Person to whom they are done, is a Subject of great Compass, and Extent; of great Use, but withal of much Intricacy, and Difficulty. There is not any one Instance, in which Men are more Deficient. Very few know, either how to oblige, or how to be obliged, as becomes them. It looks as if Goodness, and Desert, and Gratitude were in the Declension; and Revenge and Ingratitude in the Ascendent; as if Those were a Loss and Diminution, and These a Gain and Privilege; so eager and zealous we are generally in the former, so so very cold and indifferent, so averse indeed to the latter. Thus Tacitus observes, that 
† Gratia oneri est, Ultio in quaestu habetur. Altiùs Injuriae qàum merita descendunt.  Thanks are reputed Trouble, but Revenge an Advantage; and Seneta, That Injuries and Affronts make much deeper Impression than Favours and Kindness. We will therefore endeavour at present to correct and redress this so common Defect; (or Corruption rather,) of Mankind; by treating at present, First of Beneficence, under which I comprehend Humanity, Liberality, Charity or Relief of the Poor and Distressed; and of their Contraries, Inhumanity, Niggardliness, Want of Compassion: And then Secondly, of the Obligation, the Gratitude of the Receiver, or the Neglect, and Ingratitude after such Kindnesses received.  
Which Way soever we turn our Eyes, they are every where presented with Arguments and Instances, 
Motive to Beneficence.  for the Exercise of Kindness, and Beneficence. God, and Nature, and Universal Reason, and Equity, All join in their Invitations to it, In God, whether we consider his Effence, or his Providence, what he is, and what he does, we see nothing but Goodness; for He is the very Perfection of it, Goodness itself; and That not a speculative and unprofirable Excellence, but the most diffusive and communicative Goodness; and 
* Nullà re propius ad Dei naturam accedimus, quam Beneficentia: Dei est mortalem succurrere mortali.  of all the Resomblances and Imitations of the Divinity that Human Nature is capable of, the nearest Approach we can make toward him is in this Particular; as Tully very justly observed. And Pliny; when one Man succours another, he does an Act more than Human, and becomes as it were a God to his Brother. The Inducements, which Nature furnishes us with, are many. Such as, The sensible Satisfaction a Man feels in seeing the Person whom he hath obliged; the Consideration, that he is a Person of the same Condition with himself, cast in the same Mould, wrought up of the same Materials, a Transcript of the same Original; For 
† Nihil tam secundum Naturam, quam juvare consortem Naturae.  nothing is so agreeable to the Dictates of Nature, as to assist one who is a Partaker of the same Nature; It is a Generous and Noble Act; worthy a Person of Honour and Virtue, to be useful and beneficial to others, to embrace and improve, nay, to seek Opportunities of being so. For the 
⁂ Liberalis etiam dandi causas quaerit.  Liberal Man does not content himself with taking them when they come in his Way; but he goes out to meet, and taketh Pains to find them. And it is an old Adage, that Truly Noble Blood will neither let a Man tell a Lie, nor be wanting good Offices, where they are Seasonable. There is somewhat of Greatness and commendable Pride in doing Kindnesses, as there is of Meanness in having them done to us; and this may be one convenient Sense of that Saying, which St. Paul ascribes to our Saviour; It is more Blessed to give than to receive. He that gives, gets himself Honour, and gains an Advantage; he becomes Master of the Receiver, and acquires a Right in him; as on the other hand, the Receiver sells his Freedom, and is no longer at his own disposal. The First Inventor of Good Offices, (says one with Ingenuity enough) contrived the strongest Fetters that ever were, to bind and captivate Mankind. Upon this Account several People have refused to accept of Kindnesses, because they would not suffer their Liberty to be entrenched upon; and particularly, if the Person conferring the Favour were one, whom they had no Kindness for, and did not care to be obliged to. For which Reason it is, that the old Philosophers forbidden us to receive any Kindnesses from ill Men, because in so doing we let them get a Hank upon us. Caesar used to say, that no Music was so charming in his Ears, as the Requests of his Friends, and the Supplications of those in want. The Motto of Greatness is, Ask me. And that Command and Promise gives us a Noble Idea of the Majesty of God, Call upon me in the time of Trouble; 
Psal. l. 15.  so will I hoar thee, and thou shalt glorify me. This is likewise the most Honourable way of employing our Power and Plenty; which, while we keep by us, and in our own private Possession, are called by the mean Names, of Houses, and Lands, and Money; but when drawn out into Use, and expended to the Benefit of our Brethren, they are dignified with new and August Titles; and from thenceforth commence Good Actions, Liberality, Magnificence, Alms, and Treasures in Heaven. Nay it is not only the most Honourable, but the most prudent and profitable Method of trafficking with them; 
* Ars quaestuosissima, optima Negotiatio.  the gainfullest of all Arts, the best and least hazardous Way of Merchandise; for here the Principal is secured, and the Interest arising upon it rises exceeding high. And, to say the very truth, no part of what we have is so properly our Own, none turns to such a prodigious Increase, so comfortable Account, as that which we expend upon good Uses. What lies by us is locked up, and hide privately; it lies and wastes; or at least it never grows upon our Hands; and it is sure to give us the Slip at last, either by some of those infinite Accidents, by which all such Things are liable to be snatched from Us; or by that certain and inevitable Separation, by which Death will shortly snarch Us away from Them. But so much of these as is thus put out, can never fail, never be wrested from us; never rust, or decay, or lie buried in Unprofitableness. Hence it was, that Mark Anthony, when depressed, and at an Ebb of Fortune so low, that he had nothing but Death lest at his own Disposal, cried out, that 
* Hoc habeo quodcunque dedi.  he had lost All, except what he had given away. And thus you see, what a brave, and noble, and becoming Temper, this Compassionate, and good Natured Frame of Soul is; how worthily a ready Inclination to do Good to all the World, attracts the Love and Admiration of all that consider it; How Amiable and Engaging, how Powerful and Irresistible the Charms of Generosity are. As indeed, on the other Hand, nothing is so Mean and Sneaking, so Detestable and Despicable, so Deformed and Unnatural, as Hardheartedness, and Insensibility of other People's Misfortunes; It is therefore deservedly styled Inhumanity; to intimate by that Name, that such People are Monsters, and not Men. And, as the Vices themselves, so the Source and Causes of them stand in direct Opposition to each other. For, as Beneficence springs from Greatness and Gallantry of Spirit, so unreasonable Parsimony and Hardheartedness is the Spawn of Cowardice, and Brutish Degeneracy of Soul.  
Now, there are two ways of becoming Beneficial to our Neighbours; either as we minister to their Profit, 
Several sorts of it.  or to their Pleasure. The First procures us Admiration and Esteem; the Second Love, and good Will. The First is much more valuable, because it regards men's Necessities and Distresses; it is acting the Part of a Tender Father, and a True Friend. There is likewise a Difference in these Acts of Kindness themselves; Some are due from us, such as the Laws of Nature, or positive Institution require at our Hands; Others are free, and what we are under no express Obligation for, but the Effect of pure Choice, and Love. The Latter of these Two sorts, seem to be more Brave and Generous; But yet the Former too, when discharged with Application, and Prudence, and sincere Affection, are very Excellent and Commendable, though they have the Nature of a Debt, and are such as we cannot be faithful to our Duty, and dispense with ourselves in.  
Now the true Beneficence or Kindness is not properly in the Gift itself, 
Internal and External.  that which a Man sees, and feels, and tastes; this is too gross a Notion; and all we that can allow, is that These are the Matter, the Signs, and the Demonstrations of our Kindness; but the Thing itself is the Disposition and good Heart. The Outward and visible part may be very small and inconsiderable; and yet that within may at the same time be wondrous great. For This may have proceeded from an exceeding Eagerness and Affection; a hunger and thirst of doing good; watching, and contriving, and seeking Occasions for it; and esteeming such Actions in our Saviour's Terms, One's Meat and Drink; snatching them as greedily, and receiving as sensible a Satisfaction and Delight from them, as from the most necessary Refreshments, by which this Life of ours is sustained. A Man may have given to the very utmost of his Ability, and by this means exhaust that little Store, which is scarce sufficient for his own Occasions; or he may part with that which is particularly valuable and dear to him. These are the Considerations, that enhanced the value of the Widow's Mite; and rendered one small piece of Money, not equal only, but far superior to all the large Donations of the Rich Contributors. And thus Heathen Authors have likewise concurred in their Estimate of good Works. 
* In Benesieio Hoc suspieiendum, quod alteri dedit, ablaturus sibi, utilitatis suae oblitus.  In every Benefit, say they, we are to have a more than ordinary respect to that, which a Man by relieving his Neighbour, streightens himself in; and for the sake of another's Convenience and Advantage, postpones and forgets his own. On the other Hand, where the Gift itself is large, the Obligation may be very small; and indeed, in great Gifts there are some Circumstances, which most commonly make it so. For such are bestowed frequently with Unwillingness and Reluctancy: They expect to be much entreated, and long attended for them, and take time to consider, whether they shall bestow them or not: Now This hath too much of Pomp and Formality in it; such a Man is desirous to magnify his own Bounty; and after all, he gives more to gratify his own Vanity and Ambition, than to supply the Necessities of them that want; and so Himself is the Giver and Receiver both. But that which gives another very just Preference in the Case before us, is. That the External Benefit may be presently wrested from us again; or if not by Fraud and Force, yet it may be spent, or lost; it may decay upon our Hands, and in process of time vanish quite; but the inward Disposition, with which it was conferred, is permanent and firm. The Liberty, or the Health, the Wealth, or Honour, or Preferment bestowed upon us, may by some fresh Accident be lost in an instant; but still the Kindness and the Obligation remains entire.  
Now the Directions, by which a Man may do well to govern himself in the exercise of this excellent Virtue, 
Rules for Beneficence.  are such as follow.  
First, With regard to the Persons; who are the proper Objects of our Liberality, and whether it be fit to extend it to All, as their Wants, and our own Abilities furnish Opportunities for it. This is a very reasonable Enquiry, and highly necessary to be resolved; because, by doing good to wicked Men, and such as do not deserve our Kindness, a Man may seem to be guilty of a great many Faults at once. This derives Censure and an ill Name upon the Donor, and exposes his Bounty to very vile Interpretations; It hardens and supports such People in their Wickedness and Extravagance; breeds Envy and malicious Thoughts; takes away all Distinctions between the Good and the Bad, by allowing the same Countenance and Encouragement to Vice, which is due to Virtue and Desert. For certainly those Assistances, which depend upon our own free Choice, and are the Effect of Grace, and not any Debt by virtue of Obligation and Duty, Worth and Goodness have the best Title to; but yet extreme Necessity, and the general Good of Mankind lay all in common. In these two Cases none are excluded, but even the Wicked and the Ingrateful have Right to come in for a Share, if their Necessities are urgent; and if they be so mingled and interspersed with the Good, that One cannot enjoy the Benefit, without the Other partaking of it too. And undoubtedly it is much better to do good to those who do not deserve it for the sake of them that do; than to withhold our Assistance from those that do deserve, in revenge, and for the discouragement of Them who do not. Accordingly we see, that God sets us a daily example of Universal Beneficence, He causeth his Sun to rise on the Evil and on the Good; and giveth Rain to the Just and to the . These are the Effects of a general Providence: But then he bestows, over and above these, some special Blessings, which are the Effects of a distinguishing Providence; There he makes choice of his own Faithful and Beloved ones; and that Rule mentioned by our Blessed Lord takes place; It is not meet to take the Child's Bread, and to cast it unto Dogs. 
* Multum refert, utrum aliquem non excludas, an eligas.  There is a vast deal of difference (says the Philosopher) between not excluding a Man, and making him your Choice. In Cases of Extremity, when Affliction and Necessity cry aloud for present Redress and Assistance, we should extend our Charity without Distinction of Merit, and it will not serve us to say, that Men are unworthy. 
† Hominibus prodesse Natura jubet ubicunque Homini beneficio locus.  Nature calls upon us to be serviceable to all without exception; and the Consideration of his being a Man is sufficient to excite our Compassion, when Opportunities of doing Good offer themselves to us. Humanity bids us bear a tender regard, and lend our Endeavours to those that seek, and stretch out their Hands to implore our help; not to pursue them, who turn their Backs upon us: And our Kindness is much more due, much better bestowed, where we are able to do good, than where They who receive it are capable of doing good to Us. It is an Act of Generosity to take the weaker Side, to support those that are sinking, to heal a broken Fortune, and support a drooping Spirit, and to rob the Conqueror of his Pride and Triumph, by snatching the Spoils, and rescuing the vanquished Prey out of his Hand. Thus Chelomis is said to have done. She was both the Wife and Daughter of a King. These two Princes had a Dispute with one another; in which, while her Husband had the Advantage, she shown herself a dutiful Daughter, and followed her Father's Fortunes, never forsaking him in his greatest Distress; but when the Chance of War turned, and cast the Scale on the other side, than She turned too, and left her Father to enjoy his Prosperity; and thought This a proper Season to exert the Affection and Fidelity of a Wife, by sticking close to her Husband in his Calamitous Condition.  
A Second Rule for the Exercise of this Virtue is to do it frankly and cheerfully; Not grudgingly, or of necessity, says St. Paul; for God loveth a cheerful giver. And 
⁂ Bis est gratum, quod opus est, si ultro ofteras.  The Kindness you do is doubly welcome, when what is seasonable and necessary comes of its own accord, without staying to be asked, or pressed to it. For so much of Entreaty and Attendance às it costs, so much of the Value and Satisfaction is abated. And 
* 
Nemo jubenter debet, quod non accepit, sed expressit.  
Non tulit gratis, qui accepit rogans; imò nihil charius emitur, quàm quod Precibus.   No Man takes any great Joy in being beholding to a Man for that which he did not so properly receive, as extort. That which is gotten by Importunity is dear bought: He that obtains by dint of ask, ought not to esteem his Supply a Gift; for Attendance, and Address, and earnest Supplications are a very high Price, and pay well for the Purchase. He that asks, humbles and debases himself; he acknowledges himself inferior; is ashamed and out of Countenance; pays mighty Deference and Respect to the Party applied to; and the true English of all his Behaviour is that beggarly Form, Your Petitioner, as in Duty bound, etc. This is the very Ground of what I observed of Caesar; it was the Pride of his Heart that made him say, after the Defeat of Pompey, That He never took so much Delight in any thing, as in being supplicated and sought to; and, to gratify his own Vanity in this particular, he gave All, even his Enemies, some Hopes of obtaining their Requests in time, that so he might drill them on to repeat and continue their Applications to him. And what can we make of This? It was not out of any good Intentions to others, but merely to please himself, that he showed himself exorable, and easy of Access. For Kindness comes easy; and therefore as an Emblem of its doing so, the Graces of old were described and painted, with lose, transparent Garments; not girt close about their Bodies, but flowing and free; to show, that Favours should have nothing of Trick or Design, nothing straitlaced, or of Constraint in them.  
A Third Qualification necessary to recommend any Favour, is the conferring it readily, and out of Hand; This indeed seems to have some Connexion and Dependence upon the former. For all Kindnesses are to be rated by the  and Disposition of the Donor; And 
† Qui tardè fecit, diu noluit.  He who delays his Relief, was so long in a State of Unwillingness to give it. And as that Loathness is a very great Rebate, so the speedy Compliance and Alacrity of the Mind is a great Enhancement, and doubles the Gift. That cold Indifferency, and those trifling Put-off's, commonly practised upon such Occasions, are approved by no Body but Men of Insolence, who make it their Diversion to banter and abuse People: For Diligence and Dispatch are commendable in all Cases, and in none more requisite than in This now before us. There are Five different Methods of proceeding in it; Three of which are liable to Censure, and the other Two as worthy of Commendation. A Man may deny, but he may keep one in suspense and Expectation a great while first; This is a double Injury. He may refuse immediately, or he may grant at last; and both these amount much to one, when the Matter comes to be fairly computed; at least, 
⁂ Minus decipitur, cui negatur celeriter.  He that is soon said Nay, is less deceived. The Fourth is to grant speedily; and This is very well: But the Best of all is, To prevent a Request; to foresee Men's Wants and Wishes, and never put them to the Expense of ask at all.  
A Fourth Commendation is the Giving without any prospect of a Requital; and indeed This is the very thing, wherein the Virtue of Beneficence chief consists; for when once you make it mercenary, it ceases to be a Virtue. 
* Tunc est Virtus dare Beneficia non reditura.  There is a great deal less Kindness where there are Expectations cherished of the Benefit reflecting back again upon the first Mover. But when there is no Opportunity, no Possibility of a Return; nay, when Matters are carried so privately, that the Party obliged does not so much as know his Benefactor, than the Benefit shines in its full Lustre. If a Man study the Point of Retaliation, he will give but slowly, and by Peace-meals; because this is the thrifty way of being as little out of Pocket as he can. Now it were much better to renounce all Thoughts of being paid again, than to be slack in doing good; because by coveting this Return, which is accidental only, and foreign to the purpose, he loses that which is the true and natural Recompense, the inward Complacency of Mind, and the ravishing Satisfactions which result from a Sense of doing good. A Man should not need to be twice entreated for the same thing. For, as the being guilty of Injustice is of itself abominable and base, and there needs no other Consideration, than the Dishonour and Obliquity of the Thing to defer us from it; so the doing Good is a generous and becoming Act, and it is a Fault to want any other Motive, more than its Native Beauty and Excellence; the staying till we are argued and importuned into Matters of this Nature, betrays either much Ignorance, or great Indifference. In a Word, 
† Non est Beneficium quod in quaestum mittitur.  To keep one's Eye upon the Return, and the Account our Kindness is like to turn to, is not properly doing good with our Substance, but turning the Penny, and putting it out to Interest; These are Methods too distant to be reconciled, and confounded together; and 
⁂ Demus Beneficium, non foeneremus. Dignus est decipi, qui de recipiendo cogitavit, cum daret.  we should always distinguish between Giving, and driving such a Trade. Such Men are right enough served, when their Expectations are disappointed. As That Woman must not pretend to Honour and Virtue, who denies her Lover, only to inflame his Passion the more, and in hopes that he will renew his Courtship; so That Man must not think to pass for Liberal and Generous, who sends away his Petitioner to Day, that he may see him again to morrow, or expends that which he hopes will shortly come home to him. For this Reason Hesiod, and the old Poets, described the Graces in a State of Virginity; that no Man when he does good Offices, should have regard to multiplying and increase. And especially this falls infinitely short of a Christian's Virtue, whose Master hath positively commanded him, upon these Occasions, to hope for nothing again, to look at no other Recompense than that distant and future one, reserved for him by his Paymaster in Heaven; and hath described the very Heathens and Publicans, the most ignorant and most scandalous sort of Men by this Character, that even They will give and lend to those, from whom they have any hopes of receiving as much again.  
Another Rule is, To oblige Men in their own way, so as may be most to the satisfaction of the Receiver; for this convinces him, that what we do of this kind, is entirely for his Sake and Service. And here we shall do well to take notice, that there are two sorts of good Offices. Some are such, as derive Credit and Honour upon the Receiver, and these should be contrived in as public a manner as possible; Others tend to his Profit only; they supply his Wants, or support his Weakness, or cover his Shame, or assist him in some other Necessity or Distress. And these should be carried with all the Privacy imaginable; so much that, if it be possible, none but the Person himself should know it: Nay, if that can any way serve his Interest, or be more acceptable to him, it will be very fit and prudent to keep Him in Ignorance too; to let the Kindness drop into his Mouth, and convey it to him underhand. For many times a Man's Circumstances require a Relief, which he is out of Countenance to accept; and there is a Tenderness due to the Modesty of Persons reduced by Afflictions and Casualties, who cannot change their Souls with their Fortunes. Besides, that all divulging of Kindness is perfectly useless to one that does it upon a true Principle; for a Man's own Conscience cannot possibly be ignorant of his Merit, and this single Witness is as good as Ten thousand others.  
It must likewise be done without the Detriment or just Offence of any other Person whatsoever; but especially without the least Violation of Equity and Justice. For a Man cannot with any tolerable Sense be said to do good, when he does ill at the same time; Those that want our Relief ought to have it; but we must not relieve Them at other People's Expense. What the Wise Man says of the Hypocrite's Piety is every whit as true of his Liberality and Charity, 
Ecclus. xxxiv. 18, 20.  He that sacrificeth of a thing wrongfully gotten, his Offering is ridiculous, and He is as one that killeth the Son before his Father's Eyes.  
A Seventh Qualification is, To do it prudently and considerately. A Man is sometimes very hard put to it to answer People's Requests, and at a loss, either how to grant, or how to refuse them. This is a Difficulty owing to a very ill Disposition common to most Men, but most predominant in those that make the Requests; which inclines them to resent a Denial, tho' never so reasonable in its self, and never so tenderly expressed. Some by this means are driven to a very poor, and indeed a very dishonest Refuge; which is, To promise every thing to every Body, tho' they are sensible oftentimes, that it is not in their power; and, which is still worse, conscious to themselves, that it never was in their Intention to make it good; but, all this notwithstanding, they shift off the Difficulty, till it comes to the very Point of Performance; and trust to some Accident or other, to bring them off, by making such an Alteration in their Affairs, that the Obligation shall cease: Or else, if it be still expected, that they should stand by their Engagements, some paltry Evasions are laid hold of in their Excuse: But still the Evil Day is put far from them; and the Suitor's Mouth is stopped for the present. Now All this is quite wrong, and a miserable Instance of Human Frailty; for no Man ought to promise, or encourage the Expectation of any thing which he either is not able, or may not lawfully, or does not really and sincerely design, to make good to the uttermost. And when he finds himself at a Bay, enclosed between these two Difficulties, of making a Promise, which is either unjust, or inexpedient, or dishonourable and unbecoming his Character to fulfil; or else of giving a Denial, which is sure to be ill taken, and breed Mischief and Discontent; the best Course to extricate himself, is to break, to evade the Blow; either by declining a positive Answer, or else by wording his Promise so cautiously, and in general Expressions of Civility and good Inclination, that the Person may have nothing of a punctual Engagement to fasten upon. There is, I confess, somewhat of Management and Cunning in doing so, which may make this Advice seem strange and inconsistent, with that Frankess of Temper, and Sincerity in Conversation, which I have been lately recommending; but we are to consider this as a Case of Necessity, that when Men will be unreasonable, we must deal with them as we can; and that they deserve at least to be thus treated.  
An Eighth necessary Ingredient is, That all Things of this Kind be done with a true Spirit of Humanity, and sincere Affection; for such a Temper will be very sensibly concerned for the Benefit of all Mankind; but more particularly it will bear a very tender regard to the Miseries of the Indigent and Afflicted; which is a Virtue more particularly distinguished by the Name of Mercy and Pity. Those who want these Bowels, are Irregularities and Deviations from Nature, and so distant from Grace and Goodness, that the Apostle reckons This, as one of the Characters of the last and worst Times. But then the Compassion I mean here, is a Brave, and Masculine, and Generous Quality; not a Softness and Effeminacy of Soul, which melts into Tears, and creates Perplexity and Disorder of Thought. For This is a faulty Passion, such as weak and wicked People are capable of falling under; concerning which I have already made some Remarks in its proper Place; and demonstrated, that there is a criminal and foolish Pity, as well as a wise, well-governed, and commendable one. We ought indeed to secure the Afflicted; but we must not afflict ourselves for them, nor make their Miseries our own. This were unprofitable to Them, and greatly prejudicial to Us; nor may we strain a Point of Decency or Duty upon their Account; for Charity cannot dispense with Justice, nor set aside our other Obligations. God himself hath positively forbidden us to favour a Poor Man in his Cause. And God Himself and the Saints are said to be Pitiful and Compassienate; but yet not so, as to give any Disturbance to the Perfection of their own Happiness; any more than to impair the Perfection of their Holiness; in the Methods made use of for the succour of those they do pity.  
A Ninth Rule is, to avoid Boasting of our Kindness, and all manner of unnecessary Publication of it. This is a sort of Upbraiding and Reproach; it cancels the Obligation quite, and is the most invidious way of making Men our Enemies; by turning our Favours into Provocations; and therefore it is very well observed to this purpose, That he who receives a good Turn, should never forget it; but he who does one, should never remember it.  
A Tenth is, To proceed, and not be weary of well-doing, but keep our old Favours always fresh, by the Addition of new one's. This will be a powerful Charm to attract the Affection of all the World, and make Men ambitious of our Friendship. Nor should a Man ever repent of his past Obligations, tho' sensible, that he hath had the Misfortune to scatter his Seed in a barren and ungrateful Soil. 
* Beneficii tui etiam infoelicitas placeat: nusquam hae● vox' Vellem non fecisse.  Let even the Miscarriage of your Kindness give you Satisfaction, (says the Philosopher) and let not any such Expression escape you, as, I wish I had never done so; For indeed there can be no just Foundation for grudging our Kindness. The Unthankful Wretch injures no Body but himself; and the Favour, that was misplaced, is not utterly lost or thrown away, it is devoted to a Holy and Excellent use, and cannot be destroyed or profaned by the Receiver's Fault. If another will needs be wicked, and act otherwise than becomes him, this can never justify my ceasing to be good. But further, The generous and noble Spirit distinguishes itself by Perseverance; and triumphs in the Conquest of Ingratitude and Ill-nature, when invincible Beneficence hath heaped Coals of Fire upon their Heads, melted them down, and softened them into good Temper, and a better Sense of Things. So says the Moralist, 
* Optimi & ingentis animi est tamdiu ferre ingratum, donec feceris gratum; vincit malos pertinax Bonitas.  A Great Soul bears the ingrateful Man so long, till at last he makes him grateful; for obstinate and resolute Goodness will conquer the worst of Men.  
The Last Direction I shall lay down upon this Occasion is, That when a thing is given, we should let a Man use and enjoy it quietly, and not be troublesome and unseasonable with him; like some, who when they have put one into any Office or Preferment, will needs be thrusting in their Oar, and execute it for him: Or else procure a Man some considerable Advantage, and then make over what proportion of the Profits they see sit, to themselves. Receivers in such Cases ought not to endure the being thus imposed upon; and any Resentments or Refusals made upon this Account, are by no means the Marks of Ingratitude, but a preservation of their own Rights. And whatever the Benefactor may have contributed to our Preferment, he wipes out the whole Score, and acquits us of all our Obligations, by these imperious and busy Interpositions. The Story is not amiss concerning one of the Popes, who being pressed hard by one of the Cardinals to do somewhat inconvenient, or perhaps unjust, in his Favour; and (as a Motive, which was thought irresistible, or at least a Resentment which he looked upon as reasonable in case of refusal) the Cardinal re-minding him that His Interest had been formerly at his Service, and his Popedom was owing to it; His Holiness very pertinently replied, If You made me Pope, pray let me be so, and do not take back again the Authority you gave me.  
After these several Rules for the directing Men in the Exercise of Beneficence, it may be seasonable to observe, 
Several sorts of Kindnesses.  that there are Benefits of several sorts; some of them much more acceptable than others, and thus some more, and others less engaging. Those are most welcome that come from the Hand of a Friend, and one whom we are strongly disposed to love, without any such Inducement: As, on the contrary, it is very grievous and grating to be obliged by one, of whom we have no Opinion, and desire of all things not to be indebted to. Those are likewise so, which proceed from a Person whom we have formerly obliged ourselves; because This is not so much Gratuity, as Justice and Payment of Arrears, and so draws very little or no new Debt upon us. Such again are those done in a time of Necessity, and when our Occasions were very urgent: These have a mighty Influence; they utterly deface all past Injuries and Misunderstandings, if any such there were; and leave a strong Tie upon a Man's Honour; as, on the other Hand, the denying our Assistance in Cases of Extremity, is extremely unkind, and wipes out all Remembrances of any former Benefits. Such, once more, are Those, that can be easily acknowledged, and admit of a suitable Return; as, on the contrary, such as the Receiver is out of all Capacity to requite, commonly breed Hatred, and a secret Dislike: For there is a Pride in most Men, that makes them uneasy to be always behindhand; and hence he who is sensible, that he can never make amends for all he hath received, every time that he sees his Benefactor, fancies himself dogged by a Creditor, upbraided by a living Witness of his Insufficiency or Ingratitude; and these secret Reproaches of his own Mind, give great Uneasiness and Discontent; for no Bankrupt can bear being twitted with his Poverty. Some again there are, which the more free and honourable, and respectful they are, the more burdensome and weighty they are; provided the Receiver be a Person of Honour and Principle: Such, I mean, as bind the Consciences and the Wills of Men; for they tie a Man up faster, keep him more tied, and render him more cautious and fearful of failing, or forgetfulness. A Man is Ten times more a Prisoner, when confined by his own Word, than if he were under Lock and Key. It is easier to be bound by Legal and public Restraints, and Forms of Engagements, than by the Laws of Honour and Conscience; and Two Notaries in this Case are better than One. When a Man says, I desire nothing but your Word, I depend upon your Honesty; such a one indeed shows greater respect: But if he be sure of his Man, he puts him upon a stricter Obligation, and himself upon better Security than Bonds and Judgements. A Man who engages nothing but his Word, is always in Fear and Constraint, and upon his Guard, lest he should forfeit or forget it. Your Mortgagee, and he that is under the power of Legal Forms, is delivered from that Anxiety, and depends upon his Creditor's Instruments, which will not sail to refresh his Memory, when the Bonds become due. Where there is any external Force, the Will is always less intent; and where the Constraint is less, there in proportion the Application of the Will is greater. 
* Quod me Jus cogit, vix à Voluntate impetrem.  What the Law compels me to, is very ha●dly my own Choice; for I do not properly choose, but submit to it.  
Benefits produce Obligations, 
Of the Obligation.  and from Obligations again fresh Benefits spring up: So that Beneficence is reciprocally the Child and the Parent, the Effect and the Cause; and there is a twofold Obligation, which we may distinguish by an Active and a Passive Obligation. Parents, and Princes, and all Superiors are bound in Duty, and by virtue of their Station, to procure the Benefit and Advantage of Those, whom either the Laws and Orders of Nature, or the political Constitutions of Government, or any other Law relating to their Post, have committed to their Inspection and Care. And not only so, but All in general, whether their Character be Public or not, if they have Wealth and Power, are by the Law of Nature obliged to extend their Help and Bounty towards the Necessitous and Distressed. And this is the first sort of Obligation. But then from good Offices thus done, whether they be in some regard owing to us, as flowing from the Duty incumbent upon the Benefactor, by virtue of this former Engagement: Or whether they be the effect of pure Choice, entirely Grace, and nothing of Debt, there arises the Second sort of Obligation, whereby the Receivers are bound to acknowledge the Kindness, and to be thankful for it. All this mutual Exchange, and propagation of Engagements and good Turns, Hesiod hath intimated to us by his Description of the Graces, when he paints them Three in Number, and all joining Hands.  
The First, or Original Obligation is satisfied by the due Performance of those particular Offices, 
The first Original Obligation.  which each Person's respective Station requires from him. And what these are, we shall very shortly take occasion to explain at large, when the Special Duties, which make up the other Branch of Justice to our Neighbour, come to be considered. In the mean while, I desire my Reader to observe, that the Primitive Engagement we are treating of at present, tho' it cannot be utterly dissolved, yet it may be tied faster and closer, or slacken and sit more lose upon us, by several accidental Circumstances; and particularly, it may be mightily strengthened, or diminished, by the Conditions and Behaviour of those we have to deal with. If the very Relation of a Subject or a Child bind us to them, the Affectionate and Dutiful Carriage of good Subjects, and good Children, enforce the Obligations of Kindness yet more. And so again; Their Misdemeanours, their Ingratitude, their Insolence and Unworthy Behaviour, do in a great Measure discharge us of that Tenderness and Care, which they have otherwise a Right to expect from us. And I cannot tell, whether this Observation may not hold in some Degree, with Regard to Natural Defects also. A Man may; perhaps indeed he cannot but, have less Affection for a Child, or a Kinsman, or a Servant, not only if he be Ill-tempered and Perverse; but if he be deformed, or crooked, or unfortunate in his Person. For God, who made Beauty an attractive Excellence, seems himself to have lowered the Natural Value such Persons are to be rated at. But then, whatever Influence this Consideration may have upon our Minds and Inclinations, it must have none at all upon the outward Administration of our Office. These unhappy Persons have the same Title to our Justice and Charity; their Necessities put in the same common Claim to our Assistance and Relief; and all the Good we are engaged to upon any public and general Account, is still to be Punctually performed towards them; and indeed the less to be neglected, because, those Natural Defects are their Misfortunes only, not their Faults; and as such should excite our Pity to supply the Place of Inclination.  
But that Obligation, 
The Second Eligation.  which lies before us at present, is the Second Sort; such as arises from Benefits received: And for our better Direction in this Matter, we shall do well to observe.  
First of all; That the Laws of Acknowledgement and grateful Returns are Natural and Universal; They are not confined to Humanity alone, but even Brutes themselves have a Sense of, and share in them. Nay, and those too, not only tame, and manageable, and Domestic Animals, which might tempt us to think this Disposition the Effect of Art or Custom; but even the Wildest and most Savage Creatures: For in them we meet with several notable Instances of Gratitude; One Example whereof I have formerly mentioned, in the Behaviour of a Lion, to that Roman Slave, 
Book I. Chap. 8. Sect. 12.  who was exposed in the Theatre to be devoured by him.  
Secondly. It is a Virtuous Act, and a certain Indication of a good Mind; for which Reason it is really more valuable, than Beneficence itself: For Liberality often proceeds from Plenty, or Power; Regard to one's own Interest or Reputation, and not very often from pure Virtue; But Gratitude cannot spring from any other Cause than an ingenuous Disposition. And therefore, though the doing of good Offices may be the more desirable, yet the grateful Acknowledgement, and studying to requite them, when they are done, is the more Commendable of the Two.  
Thirdly, Gratitude is likewise an easy and a pleasant Duty; and yet such as no body can be excused from, upon the Pretence of Disability, or Want of Opportunity; because it is always in our own Disposal, always present with us. Now, nothing is so easy, as to obey and follow the Dictates of Nature; and nothing so Pleasant and Satisfactory, as for a Man to acquit himself of Obligations, to come out of Debt, and set himself Free, and upon the Level with his Neighbours.  
From all that hath been said upon this Subject, we cannot but discern, how much of Baseness, and Meanness of Spirit, the Vices of Ingratitude and Neglect carry with them; how deservedly Odious they are to all the World. 
* Dixeris Maledicta cuncta, cum ingratum hominem dixeris. Ingratitudo grave vitium, intolerabile quod dissociat homines.  To call a Man Ingrateful, is the worst and blackest Accusation you can lay to his Charge. It is an Offence against Nature, and a certain Indication of an ill Temper; a scandalous and reproachful Vice; such as is not to be endured, because it breaks all Society and good Correspondence. The Revenge, which follows upon an Injury, and the Ingratitude which follows a Kindness, are both Bad and , but not equally so. Revenge is indeed the stronger and more violent Passion; but it hath less of Deformity and Degeneracy of Soul, than Ingratitude. The Evils and Diseases of our Minds are like those incident to our Bodies; where those that are most Dangerous and Mortal are not always the most Painful and Acute. And therefore Revenge may disorder a Man more, but Ingratitude corrupts his Virtue more. In the Former there is some Appearance of Justice, Men are not ashamed to pursue and own that publicly; but the latter is all over Infamy and Baseness, and no Man was ever yet so abandoned or hardy, to confess or glory in it.  
Now, Gratitude, to render it complete, and in all Points what it ought to be, must have these following Qualifications.  
First, A Man must receive the Kindnesses done to him, cheerfully and friendly; he must look, and express himself well pleased with them. 
† Qui gratù Beneficium accepit, primam ejus Pensionem solvit.  He that gives a Favour kind Entertainment, hath made the first Payment already. Secondly. He must never forget, or be unmindful of it. 
⁂ Ingratissimus omnium, qui oblitus; nusquam enim gratus fieri potest, cui totum Beneficium elapsum est.  He that forgets his Benefactor, is of all others the farthest from Gratitude; for how is it possible a Man should discharge this Duty, who hath suffered the Foundation of it to slip quite from under him? Thirdly. He must not be sparing to own and publish it, 
* Ingenui pudoris est fateri per quos profecerimus, & haec quasi merces Authoris.  It is an argument of Ingenuity and becoming Modesty, frankly to confess who we have been the better for; and this is a Reward due to the Maker of our Fortunes. As we have found by comfortable Experience, the Hearts and Hands of our Friends open to our Advantage, so it is fit they should find our Mouths open too, and our Tongues liberal in the Declarations of their Readiness to assist us. And that our Memory upon this occasion may never want Refreshing, it will be Decent to mention the Advantage we have received, by the Title of his Gifts, who conferred it upon us. The Fourth and Last is, to make a Return, and Restitution, wherein we may govern ourselves according to these Four Rules. 

First, That This be not done too hastily; We should not be extremely Eager and Anxious in the Thing; for this hath a very ill Savour: It looks like Pride, as if we were loath, and scorned to be obliged; and for that Reason were impatient to get out of their Debt. This ministers a very just cause of Jealousy to our Benefactor, that his Kindness was not well taken, when we show ourselves so very uneasy under the Engagements it lays upon us. A convenient time therefore is necessary to be taken, and a favourable Opportunity waited for Though this ought not to be very distant neither, nor be put off to too long a Day. For the Graces are painted Young, to hint, that Favours should not grow old upon our Hands. I add farther, that this Opportunity should be one that offers itself of its own Accord; or if of Our seeking, yet so contrived, that it may be void of all Suspicion of Vanity and Ostentation.  
Secondly, We should pay back with Interest, and exceed the Proportion of what we receive; like a good Soil, which cannot maintain the Character, if it only produce the Seed again; So a grateful Man 
* Ingratus est, qui Beneficium reddit sine usurâ.  will forfeit that Title, if he restore no more than the Principal. But the least we must do, is to return as much as we received; and that with all possible Demonstrations, that we thought ourselves under an Obligation, and wished it in our Power, to do more. That what we have done in the mean while, is not looked upon as full Satisfaction, but only as an Acknowledgement of the Debt, and a Testimony of our Sincerity, and Respect.  
Thirdly, That these Returns be made willingly and cheerfully; for 
† Ingratus est, qui metu gratus est— Eodem animo beneficium debetur quo datur— Errat siquis Beneficium libentiùs accipit quàm reddit.  he is not Grateful, whom Fear, or Force, make desirous to appear so. Especially too, if the Kindness was done Frankly and generously; For we should pay back in the same Coin, and with all the commendable Qualities the Favour brought along to recommend it; And that Man is much to blame who is more ready and cheerful when he is to receive a Kindness, than when it is expected he should requite one.  
Fourthly. If a Man's Circumstances be such, as render him Incapable of actual Restitution, at least he ought to take Care, that he be not wanting in Will, and this Grateful Disposition is the First and Principal Part of the Thing; the very Life and Soul both of the Benefit, and of the Acknowledgement in return for it. This indeed, can have no Witness but itself to testify for it. But, as the Thanks of the Heart, aught to be well accepted, where People are in no Condition to pay more; so the Desires and Offers of obliging us, either when our Friends could not compass their Desires, or when we had no need, or did not think fit to accept their Services, must be acknowledged, as if we had actually received them. For here was the Will, though not the Deed; and this, as I said, is the Chief, and of itself a sufficient Ground of Obligation to Gratitude.      

THE Second PART OF JUSTICE: CONSISTING  
Of Duties owing to, and from certain Persons, and arising from Special and Personal Obligations.  

The PREFACE.  
MY Design is, in the next Place, to treat of such Duties, as are peculiar to some Men, and not to others. And These differ according as the Persons concerned in them, and their respective Conditions differ. Some of them are unequal, as Superiors, and Inferiors: Others are equal and upon the same Level. I shall begin with married Persons, because This is a Relation mixed and compounded of both; They being in some Respects Equal, and in Others Unequal. Besides, it will be convenient to set out with such Instances of Justice, as are Private and Domestic, These being in the very Nature and Order of Things antecedent to those that are Public and Political. For Families are the Foundation, and first Matter of Commonwealths, and Kingdoms. And therefore the Justice exercised here, is the Scurce, and Model, and first Draught of Public Administrations. Now, these Domestic Relations, are Three; Husband and Wife, Parents-and Children, Masters and Servants. These are the Principal Parts of a Family, but that of Husband and Wife is the Groundwork, and beginning of all the rest. And therefore That hath a right to be first considered.   

CHAP. XII. The Duties of a Married State.  
IN Regard the Persons under this Condition may be considered in different Respects, according to that Mixture of Equality and Inequality, which I have observed to be in their Circumstances, it must needs follow, that the Duties peculiar to such a State, are of Two Sorts; Some common to both, and Others appropriated to each of the Parties. Now, of those that are reciprocal, the Obligation is entirely the same; and the Consciences of both are equally violated by the Breach of them; though, according to the Customs of the World, the Penalty, and Reproach, and Inconvenience fall more Heavy on one side, than they do on the other. By these reciprocal Duties, I understand, an Entire Affection, steady Loyalty, uncorrupted Fidelity, and unreserved Communication of all things whatsoever; so that Neither of them have any thing they can call their own, exclusive to the Right and Claim of the Other. To these we may add a prudent, and provident Care, and the Exercise of a just Authority over their Family, a diligent Inspection into their Manners, and consulting the Advantage of all that belong to them. 
Book. I. Chap. 42.  Of this Subject we have spoken more at large in the first First Part of this Treatise.  
The Other sort are Duties Peculiar to each of the Parties; and These differ, 
Husband's Duty.  according to the Terms of that unequal Relation, in which they stand. For, those of the Husband, considered as Superior, are. 1. Instructing his Wife, conferring with, and directing her in every Particular, that may any way contribute to their Honour and Advantage; taking Care, that she may be Ignorant in no Part of the Duty expected from her Character, nor defective in any useful and necessary Accomplishments, which she is capable of attaining to; and all this to be done not in a Rough and Magisterial Way; but with all possible Gentleness and Sweetness, in the softest and most engaging manner, with the Tenderness of a Parent, and the respectful Affection of a Friend. 2. The maintaining her as his Wife; as befits One, whom he hath made the same with himself; and therefore without any Regard to her former Circumstances. Whether she did, or did not bring a Fortune, That altars not the Case one whit; such Considerations are quite out of Doors, and nothing now lies before him, but the present Relation between them. He is indeed to be governed by his own Abilities, and will do well to secure the main Chance; but then all the Frugality upon this Account must extend to the retrenching his own Expenses too: For whatever Figure he allows himself to make; his Wife ought to be supported Suitably and in Proportion to it. 3. The providing her with Clothes, which is a Right so undoubted, that all Laws concur in giving a Wife this Privilege; and that in so Solemn and Incommunicable a manner, that they have denied the Husband a Power, of disposing any thing of this Kind away from her; and have not left them liable to the Payment of his just Debts. 4. The Rights of the Bed. 5. The Loving, Cherishing, and Protecting her. Those Two Extremes, which the World are apt to run into, are Vicious and Abominable. The keeping them under, and treating them like Servants; and the submitting to them as if they were absolute Mistresses. These I take to be the principal and constant Duties. Others there are, Accidental, and Occasional Duties, secondary to, and consequent upon the former: Such as, Taking Care of her, if she be sick; Ransoming her, if she be taken Captive; Burying her Honourably, and according to her Quality, if she happen to die; and Making Provision by his last Will, for her decent Support in her Widowhood, and the comfortable Subsistence of the Children she hath brought him.  
The Duties of the Wife are to pay all becoming Honour, and Reverence, and Respect to her Husband; 
Wive's Duty.  looking upon him, as a kind and Affectionate Master. Accordingly the Scripture takes Notice, that Women eminent for their Conjugal Virtues, used to call their Husband's Lord; and it is observable, that the same Word in the Hebrew Tongue, signifies Lord and Husband both.  
The Imagination, that a Woman lessens herself by this respectful and submissive Behaviour, is most Frivolous and Foolish; for she that discharges this part of her Duty well, consults her own, more than her Husband's Honour; and she that is Insolent and Imperious, Humoursome and Perverse, does the greatest Injury to herself. A Second Duty is Obedience to all his lawful and just Commands, complying with his Humours, and bringing over her own Inclinations to His: For a good and a prudent Wife, is like a true Glass, which makes an exact Reflection of the Face that looks in it. She should have no Design, no Passion, no Thought particular to herself; but to be sure, none in Opposition to His. Like Dimensions and Accidents, which have no Motion, no separate Existence of their own, but constantly move with, and subsist in the Body whereunto they belong; so Wives should always keep close, and be from the very Heart, and even Affections of their Souls, entirely, and inseparably united to their Husbands. A Third is Service, That part especially, which relates to the providing him seasonable and Necessary Refreshments, overlooking the Kitchen, ordering the Table, and not disdaining to do any Offices, or give him any kind of Assistance about his Person; a Duty so fit to be condescended to, that the Ancients were wont to reckon Washing the Feet in particular, among the Instances of Service, due from the Wife to her Husband. Fourthly. Keeping much at Home, upon which Account a Wife is compared to a Tortoise, that carries her House upon her Back; and used heretofore to be painted with her Feet Naked, an Emblem of her not being provided for stirring abroad. This is a modest and decent Reserve, requisite at all Times, but more especially in the Absence of her Husband. For a good Wife is the exact Reverse of the Moon; she shines abroad and in full Lustre, when near her Sun; but disappears, and is totally invisible, when at a Distance from him. A Fifth is Silence; for she should never give herself the Liberty of talking much, except with her Husband, or for him; Here indeed her Tongue may take a Lose, and is subject to no other Restraint, than the speaking no more, than is convenient. This, I confess, is a very difficult Point, hard of Digestion in this lavish Age; where Multitude of Words sets up for a Female Virtue; and so rare in all Ages, 
Ecclus. xxvi. 14.  that the Wise Son of Sirach calls a silent Woman a Precious and Particular Gift of God. The Sixth is applying herself to Housewifery and good Management; 
Prov. xxxi.  for though Solomon's Description of a wise and good Woman may be thought too Mean and Mechanical for this refined Generation, yet certain it is, that the Business of a Family is the most Profitable, nay, the most Honourable Study they can employ themselves in. This is the Reigning Accomplishment, That which so far as Fortune is concerned, aught to be 〈◊〉 esteemed and regarded in the Choice of a Wife; To 〈◊〉 the Truth, This is a Fortune singly, and by itself; the Observation, or the Neglect of it, without the Addition of any Casualties, is sufficient to ruin, or to preserve, nay, to make a Family. But This hath the Fate of all other Excellencies too, which is to be exceeding rare and scarce. There are, I confess, a great many sordid and scraping Wives, but very few good Managers. But alas! there is a vast deal of Difference between Avarice and Parsimony, and provident Care and good Housewifery.  
As to the Enjoyments indulged in a Married State; Men should always remember, that this is a , a Pure, and a Religious Union; Consecrated to Excellent Mysteries, and Holy Purposes; and therefore, that all the Pleasures of it should be used with Moderation and Sobriety: In such Measures only, as Prudence and Conscience would direct, when consulted seriously, and without any Bias from gross and carnal Affections. And sure it would very ill become a Society instituted for mutual Comfort, and the Advancement of Religion, and the preservation of Purity, to throw off all Restraint; and convert their Privilege of Lawful Delights, into an Occasion of abandoning themselves to Sensuality and Licentiousness. This is One of those Cases, where no certain Bounds can be prescribed; but it will highly concern all Persons engaged in this State, to consider the Dignity and the Design of it, and to keep themselves under such Reserves, as may neither profane the one, nor evacuate the other.   

CHAP. XIII. Good Management.  
THis is a very becoming and necessary Care. An Employment, not hard to be attained to; every Man of common Discretion is capable of it. But, though the Art be easily learned, the constant Exercise of it is Intricate and Laborious; by Reason of that Great Variety of Business, in which it engages us; and, though many Matters about which it is managed, be small and inconsiderable in themselves; yet the constant Succession of them is very troublesome. Domestic Cares give great Uneasiness, because they allow of no Intermission; but, if the Difficulties are occasioned by the principal Persons in the Family, they fret, and gall, and wrankle inward, and scarce admit of any Rest or Remedy.  
The Best Method of rendering this Care easy and effectual, is, To procure some faithful Servants, in whose Honesty we can have entire Confidence, and Security. To buy in Provisions in their proper Seasons, and wait for the best Markets; To prevent all unnecessary Waste, which is the Province, proper to the Mistress of the House. To make Necessity, and Cleanliness, and Order, our first Care; and when These are served, if our Circumstances will extend farther, then to provide for Plenty, and Show, and Niceness; a gentile Appearance, and every Thing fashionable in its Kind. To regulate our Expenses, by cutting off our Superfluous Charge; yet so, as to have a Regard to Decency and Convenience, and grudge Nothing, which either Necessity or Duty call for from us. One Shilling saved, with these Limitations, will do us more Credit, than Ten idly squandered away. But to the avoiding Profuseness, we should also add the other commendable Quality, of good Contrivance; for it is a Mark of great Address, when we can make our Penny go a great Way, and appear Handsomely with little Charge: But above all things, a Man must be sure to keep within Compass, and suit his way of Living to his present Circumstances: For the most probable Prospects, are still but Futurities; and, as such, they must needs be uncertain; so that there cannot be a more ridiculous Folly, than to spend high in Confidence of Reversions, and distant Expectations.  
A Master's Eye must be every where; and if either He or the Mistress be ignorant and unexperienced in Business, they must take Care to conceal this Infirmity, and pretend at least to understand all that belongs to them. But especially, they must never appear Negligent or Remiss, but put on an Air of Diligence and Concern however. For, if once the Servants get a Notion of their being Careless, how their Affairs are managed, they will not fail to take their Advantage, and in a short Time, leave them little or nothing to take Care of.   

CHAP. XIV. The Duty of Parents and Children.  
THE Duty of Parents and Children is Reciprocal, and Natural on both sides; Thus far they both agree. But, if the Obligation be somewhat stricter on the Child's Part, that Difference is compensated by being more Ancient on the Parent's side: For Parents are the Authors, and first Cause; and, of the Two, of much greater Consequence to the Public. The Peopling the World with Good Men and Good Patriots, is their Work; the Educacation and Instruction of Youth is the only Method of effecting it, so that here the first Seeds of Political Societies and Institutions are first laid. And, of the Two Inconveniencies, That is much less, which the State suffers from the Disobedience and Ingratitude of Children toward their Parents, than from the Remissness and Neglect Parents are guilty of toward their Children. Hence, in the Lacedoemonian, and some other very wise Governments, there were Mulcts and other Penalties inflicted upon Parents, when their Children proved Perverse and Ill-tempered. And Plato declared, he knew no one Instance, that needed a Man's Care more, or deserved it better, than the endeavouring to make a good Son. And Crates in great Wrath expostulated thus with his Countrymen. To what Purpose is all this Pains to heap up great Estates, while it is no part of your Concern what manner of Heirs you leave them to? This is like a Man's being Nice of his Shoe, and Negligent of his Foot. What should a Man do with Riches, who hath not the Sense, nor the Heart to make a good Use of them? This is like an embroidered Saddle, and sumptuous Furniture upon a Jaded Horse. Parents indeed are doubly obliged to the Performance of this Duty. In Kindness to themselves; as they are their own Offspring; and in Regard to the Public, because these young Suckers are the Hopes of the Tree, the promising Shoots, upon the thriving and kindly cultivating whereof, the Strength and Succession of the Body Politic depends. So that this is, killing Two Birds with One Stone, serving one's own private Interest, and promoting the Welfare and Honour of one's Country, at the same time.  
Now, this Duty consists of Four Parts; each of which succeed in order to the other; and these are proportioned to the Four Advantages which Children ought to receive from their Parents in their proper Seasons. Life, and Nourishment, Instruction, and partaking of the Advantages of Life with them. The First respects the Time of a Child's Existence, till his Birth inclusively; The Second his Infancy; The Third his Youth, and the Last his riper Age.  
Concerning the First of These I shall only say, that though it be very little attended to, yet is it of mighty Consequence, and of strict Obligation: For no Man, who hath any the least Insight into Nature, can be ignorant, how hereditary Constitutions and Complexions are: And therefore we may be good or ill Parents, even before our Children are born. And I am sure, among other Inducements to the care of Health, and a regular Way of living, This ought not to be the least, that Those who derive their Being from us, do depend upon this Care for a great part of their Happiness; For by what hath been largely discoursed in the first Book, it may plainly appear, that the Capacity and Turn of Men's Minds, and the Soundness and Vigour of their Bodies, are in great Measure owing to a Parents good Constitution. And certainly, To Men of any Conscience, it should be an Eternal Sting and Reproach, to reflect what Rottenness and Diseases, they entail upon their Posterity, by abandoning themselves to Lewdness and Debauchery; how dearly those Innocents' pay for their Ancestor's Excesses, and what a Barbarity it is to send poor Wretches into the World, to languiths out a Life of Misery and Pain, and suffer for Sins, which they never committed. So Necessary, so Important a Virtue is Temperance to Successions and Families, as well as to men's own Persons: So Mischievous is Vice, and so Subtly does it propagate its dismal Effects, even to those that are yet unborn.  
The Second of these Heads I leave to Physicians and Nurses; and having thus briefly dispatched the Two First, because somewhat foreign to our present Design, and necessary to be mentioned, only for the rendering this Division complete, I shall proceed to the Third, which concerns the Instructing of them, and is a Subject more worthy our serious Consideration.  
So soon as the Child gins to move his Soul; and the Faculties of That, as well as the Organs of his Body show that he is a Rational, and not only a Living Creature; Great Application should be used to form him well at first. And this Care may be allowed to take Place about Four or Five Years Old, for by that time The Memory and Imagination, and some little Strokes of Reason begin to dawn and display themselves. It is not to be imagined, of what consequence these first Tinctures and Impressions are to the following part of Life; and what wonderful Efficacy and Influence they have, even to the changing and conquering Nature itself: For Education is frequently observed to be Stronger than Natural Disposition; either for the bettering or corrupting of the Man. Lycurgus' made People sensible of this, by taking Two Whelps of the same Litter, which he had brought up different Ways, and in the Presence of a great Company, setting before them Broth and a young Leveret; The Dog which had been brought up tenderly, and within Doors, fell to the Broth; but the Other, which had been used to range and hunt, neglected his Meat, and pursued his Game.  
Now that which renders such Instructions so marvellously powerful, is, that they are taken in very easily, and as hardly lost again: For that which comes first, taketh absolute Possession; and carries all the Authority you can desire; there being no Antecedent Notions to dispute the Title, or call the Truth of it in Question. While therefore the Soul is fresh and clear, a fair and perfect Blank, flexible and tender, there can be no Difficulty in making it what you please; for this Condition disposes it to receive any manner of Impression, and to be moulded into any manner of Form.  
Now, the laying these first Foundations is no such trivial Matter as is generally believed; rather indeed the Difficulty of doing it well, is proportionable to the Importance of its being done so. Nay, not of private only, but public and general Importance; which makes me think the Complaint of Aristotle and Plutarch most just, though there is little or no Care taken to redress it, when they cried out Loudly against the Education of Children being left entirely to the Mercy and Disposal of Parents, as a most notorious, deplorable, and destructive Injury to the State. For why should This rest wholly upon Persons, who are so often found to be Careless, or Ignorant, or Indiscreet, and by no Means sit to govern themselves? Why should not the Public concern themselves in the Thing, and order some better Care to be taken of it, rather than suffer what they Daily do, by sitting still and seeing their own Ruin? Lacedamon and Crete are almost the only Constitutions, where the disciplining of Children hath been prescribed by National Laws. And Sparta was indeed the best School in the World; which made Agesilaus persuade Xenophon, to send his Children thither, because there they would be sure to be instructed in the Best and Noblest Science; that of Governing, and of Obeying well; and because this was the Workhouse, where they made admirable Lawgivers, Generals, Civil Magistrates, and Private Subjects. They seemed indeed to be more intent upon the Instruction of Youth, and to lay greater Stress upon it, than upon any other Thing whatsoever. Insomuch that when Antipater demanded Fifty Children for Hostages, they Replied, That they did not care to part with any at that Age, and had much rather give him twice as many grown Men.  
Now, before I enter upon this Subject particularly, permit me by the way to give one Advertisement; which seems to carry somewhat of Weight in it. Many People take a great deal of Pains to find out the Inclinations of their Children, what sort of Business they are ●it for. But alas! This at those Years is somewhat so very tender, so much in the Dark, and so very uncertain; that Parents after having (as they imagine) pitched right, and been at a World of Pains and Charge, find themselves miserably Mistaken. And therefore without troubling ourselves about these dim Prognostics, and depending upon the very weak and slender Conjectures, capable of being drawn from the Motions of Minds so very Young; the best course will be, to possess them with such Instructions, as may be universally Good, and of general Use at first; and when they are seasoned well with these, That will prove a most excellent Preparation, for their taking to any particular Employment afterwards. Thus you build upon a sure Bottom, and perfect them presently, in that which must be the constant, and daily Business of their Lives; and this first Tincture, like the Ground of a Picture, fits them for the receiving any other Colours.  
To proceed now on, to the Matter itself; which may very conveniently be reduced to three Heads; The Forming of the Mind, Managing the Body, and Regulating of the Manners. But I must once more beg my Reader's Pardon, for another Digression, (if it deserve to be thought so) since, before I proceed to consider these Particulars, it seems to me highly Expedient, to lay down some General Rules relating to this Matter, which may direct us how to proceed, with Discretion and Success.  
The first of these Directions is, To keep this little White Soul from the Contagion and Corruption so universal among Men, that it may contract no Blemish, no Taint at its first coming abroad into the World. In order hereunto strict Sentry must be keep at the Doors; I mean the Eyes, and especially the Ears, must be diligently guarded, that no unclean Thing get Admittance there. Now, This is done by taking Care of those that are about the Child, and not suffering any, even of his Relations to come near him; whose Conversation is so lavish and dissolute, that we have Reason to fear they may convey any ill Ideas into him, though never so little, never so secretly: For One single Word, One distant Hint, is sufficient to do more Mischief in a Child, than a great deal of Pains will be able to root out, or retrieve again. Upon this Account it was, that Plato would never endure, that Children should be left to Servants, or entertained with their Stories: For if they talk nothing worse, yet the best we can expect from them is idle Tales and ridiculous Fictions, which take such deep Root in this tender Soil, that I verily believe a very great Part of the Vulgar Errors and Idle Prejudices most Men are possessed with, is owing to the Giants, and Hobgoblins, and the rest of that ridiculous Stuff, which they were kept in awe, or diverted with, in their very Infancy.  
The Second Direction concerns the Persons to be entrusted with this Child; what they are, what Discourse they have with him, what Books they put into his Hands. As to the Persons themselves; They should be Men of Honesty and Virtue, of a good Temper, and winning Behaviour; Men whose Heads lie well; and eminent, rather for Wisdom, than Learning. They must also keep a good Correspondence together, and perfectly understand each other's Method; for fear, while they take contrary Ways, (as if one would gain upon his Charge by Fear, and another by Flattery) they should happen to cross and hinder one another; confound the Child, perplex the Design, and be perpetually doing and undoing. The Books and the Discourse intended for his Entertainment, should by no Means be such as treat of mean and tristing, frivolous and idle Subjects; but Great, and Serious, and Noble; such as may help to enrich his Understanding, to direct his Opinions, to regulate his Manners and Affections. Such particularly, as set before him Human Nature, as it really is; descry the secret Springs, and inward Movements of the Soul; that so he may not mistake the World, but be well acquainted with himself and other People: Such as may teach him, which are the proper Objects of his Fear, and Love, and Desire; how he ought to be affected with Regard to all external Things; What Passion, what Virtue is: And how he shall discern the Difference between Ambition and Avarice, between Servitude and Subjection, between Liberty and Licentiousness. And suffer not yourself to be diverted from such early Attempts, by a ridiculous Pretence of the Child's Incapacity for Matters of so important a Nature; for, assure yourself, he will swallow and digest these, as easily as those of another and more ludicrous Kind. There is not one jot more of Capacity or Apprehension required, to the Understanding all the illustrious Examples of Valerius Maximus, than there is to the knowing the Fears of Guy of Wurwick, or Amadis of Gaul. The Greek and Roman History, which is the Noblest and most Useful Dearning in the World, is every whit as entertaining, as easy to be comprehended, as any Romance of the same Bulk. A Child, that can tell how many Cocks and Hens run about his Mother's Yard, and can count and distinguish his Uncles and Cousins; what should hinder him from remembering with the same ease, the seven Kings of Rome, and the Twelve Caesars? There is indeed a great Difference, between several Sciences; And the Faculties of Children have their proper Seasons; but then this makes no Difference between the different Parts of the same Science, and Exercises of the same Faculty; and no Man will ever be able to prove, that one Matter of Fact is easy, and another difficult or impossible to be attained; but especially, that the False and Fictitious Inventions, are accommodated to the Capacity of Children, and that True and Serious Narratives are above, and unfit for them. This looks, as if God had made our Minds only capable of being deceived; and given them a strange Alacrity in Lies and Fables. But the Matter is much otherwise. For the main Business is, to manage the Capacity of a Child well, and if this be done, the Improvement will quickly show the Vanity of trifling with Children, and distrusting their Abilities for greater and better Things.  
The Third Admonition to this purpose is, that these Tutors and Governors would behave themselves as becomes them towards their Charge; Not putting on always solemn and austere Looks, or treating them with Harshness and Severity; but with Methods that are gentle and engaging, good Humour, and a cheerful Countenance. I cannot hear but condemn without more ado, that general Custom of beating, whipping, scolding and storming at Children; and keeping them in all that Terror, and Subjection, which is usual in some great Schools. For This is really a most unreasonable Thing; of pernicious Consequence, and as indecent as it would be in a Judge to fall into violent Passions with Criminals at the Bar; or a Physician to fall foul upon his Patients, and call them all to naught. How Prejudicial must this needs be in the Effect, how contrary to the Design of Education, which is, to make them in love with Virtue betimes, to sweeten their Tempers, and train them in Virtue and Knowledge, and Decency of Behaviour! Now, this Imperious, and rough Treatment gives them a Prejudice to Instruction; makes them hate, and be afraid of it; fills them with Horror, and Indignation, and Rage; tempts them to be Desperate and Headstrong; damps their Spirits, and depresses their Courage: Till at last by being used like Slaves, they degenerate entirely into cowardly and slavish Dispositions. The Holy Ghost himself hath given us fair Warning of this Mischievous Consequence; when he commands by St. Paul, 
Coloss. iii. 21.  that Parents should not provoke their Children to Wrath, lest they be discouraged. This is the ready way to make them good for Nothing; they curse their Teacher, and hate the Government they are under. If they do what they are bidden, it is only because Your Eye is upon them, and they dare not do otherwise; not with any Cheerfulness or Satisfaction, or because they are acted by any Noble and Generous Principle. If they have been tardy in their Duty, they take Sanctuary in the vilest Methods to save themselves from Punishment. Lies, and Equivocations, and shuffling Excuses; Trembling, and Tears of Madness, and Despair; Playing Truant, and Running away from School; all which are Refuges infinitely worse, than the Fault they were guilty of before. 

* 
Dum id rescitum iri credit, tantisper cavet:  
Si sperat fore clam, rursum ad ingenium redit.  
Ille, quem Beneficio adjungas, ex animo facit;  
Studet par refer; praesens absensque idem erit.  Terent. Adelph.  He that's compelled by Threats to do his Duty,  
Will be wary no longer than 've an Eye over him;  
But when he sees he shan't be found out,  
He'll even follow his own Inclinations.  
But he that's governed by Love, obeys most cheerfully;  
Strives to make due returns, and is the same, Present or Absent.   
Now, I would have Children used with greater Easiness and Freedom; bred as becomes Men and Gentlemen; argued into their Duty by fair and mild Remonstrances, and possessed with Principles of Honour, and Modesty, and Shame to do amiss. The Former of these Affections would prove a Spur and mighty Incitement to Goodness; and the Latter a Curb and powerful Restraint, to disengage them from Vice, and work in them a just Abhorrence and Detestation of Evil. There seems to me to be somewhat so mean and servile in Severity and rigorous Constraint, that it can never be reconciled with Honour and true Freedom of Mind. We should therefore exalt rather and ennoble their Affections with Ingenuity of Temper and Behaviour, and the Love of Virtue, winning upon their Minds with setting before them its Desirableness, and displaying all its Charms, and attracting Beauties. 

* 
Pudore & Liberalitate Liberos retinere  
Satius esse credo quàm metu.—  
Hoc Patrium est, potius consuefacere filium,  
Suâ Sponte rectè facere, quàm alieno metu.  
Hoc Pater ac Dominus interest, hoc qui nequit,  
Fateatur se nescire imperare Liberis.   'Twas always my Opinion, that 'tis much better  
To keep Children in Order by Shame, and Generosity  
Of Inclination, than by Fear—  
This is a Father's part to use his Child,  
So as his own Choice rather than Constraint  
Should put him upon doing well.  
Here lies the Difference between a Father and a Master;  
And he that acts otherwise, let him confess,  
That he understands not at all the Art  
Of managing Children.—  Blows are for Beasts, which are incapable of hearing Reason; and Rage and Brawling, and contemptuous Usage, for none but Slaves. He that is once accustomed to these, will come to very little. But Reason and Argument, the Gracefulness of the Action, the Imitation of excellent Men, the Honour and Respect, and universal Approbation that attend their doing well, the pleasing and generous Satisfactions of one's own Mind, which result from a Sense of having done so, and the Deference paid by others to such Persons and Actions; The Deformity of an ill thing, the Representations of its being unworthy and unbecoming, a Reproach and Affront to Human Nature; the Shame and Scandal, the inward Upbraiding and Discontents, and the General Dislike and Aversion it draws upon us; how despicable and little it makes us appear, both in our own Eyes, and the Esteem of the World; These are the Defensive Arms against Vice; these the Spurs to Virtue, that influence and quicken up all Children of good Tempers, and such as give us any tolerable Hopes of making significant Men. These we shall do well to be perpetually ringing in their Ears; and if such Arts as these prove ineffectual, all the Methods of Rigour will do but little Good upon them. What cannot be compassed by dint of Reason, and Prudence, and Address, will either never be compassed by dint of Blow; or if it be, it will turn to very poor Account. But indeed there is no fear of Disappointment, if such Methods are taken in time, and the Corruptions of Vice be not suffered to get beforehand with us: For these Notions are commensurate, and Proper to the Soul, and the most natural that can possibly be, while it is preserved in its Primitive Innocence and Purity. I would not be mistaken in all this; As if it were any part of my Intention to countenance or commend that lose and effeminate Indulgence, which admits of no Contradiction, no Correction at all; but makes it a Principle, to let Children have their Humour in every Thing, for fear of fretting and putting them out of Temper. This is an Extreme every whit as extravagant, and as destructive, as the other. Such Parents are like the Ivy, that certainly kills the Tree encircled by it; or the Age that hugs her Whelps to Death with mere Fondness. 'Tis as if when we see a Man drowning, we should stand by, and let him sink, for fear the pulling him out by the Hair of the Head should hurt him. Against this Foolish Tenderness it is, that the wise Preacher inveighs so largely, and so smartly. 
Prov. xiii. 24. nineteen. 18. xxiii. 13, 14. Ecclus. xxx. 8, 9, 12.  He that spareth the Rod, hateth his Son; but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes. Chasten thy Son while there is hope, and let not thy Soul spare for his crying. Withhold not Correction from the Child; for if thou beatest him with the Rod, he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the Rod, and shalt deliver his Soul from Hell. An Horse not broken becometh Headstrong; and a Child lest to himself will be wilful; Cocker thy Child, and he shall make thee afraid. Bow down his Neck while he is young, lest he wax subborn, and bring Sorrow to thine Heart. And all this Advice is very consistent with what I recommended before; for Youth must not be suffered to run wild, and grow Lawless. They ought to be contained in Discipline and good Order; but then this Discipline should be so tempered and managed, as becomes a Spiritual, Human, and reasonable Discipline; and not fly out into Rage, and Fury, as if we were dealing with Brutes who have no Sense; or with Madmen, who have lost their Senses, and must be banged into them again.  
And now it may be seasonable for us to proceed in the Consideration of those Particulars mentioned lately, 
Advice for forming the Mind.  and the Rules for Instruction and Education suited to each of them. The First of these Particulars was said to consist, in exercising, sharpening and forming the Minds of young People. And here we might take Occasion to lay down a great Variety of Directions; But the First, and Chief, and indeed the Fundamental Rule of all the rest, (that which regards the Aim and End of all this painful Toil; and which I am the more concerned to press and inculcate, because it is very little observed, but by an Epidemical and fatal Mistake, Men are generally fond of the quite contrary Course) this Rule, I say, which I would urge, and presume to be infinitely the most concerning and material of any, is, That Men would employ the greatest Part by much, and make it in a manner the Whole, of their Business and Study, to exercise, and improve, and exert. That which is our Natural and Particular Excellence; to brighten, and bring to light the Treasure hid in every Man's breast, rather than to heap up, and make Ostentation of that which is a foreign Growth. To aim at Wisdom rather than Learning, and the acquaint Subtleties of Speculative Knowledge; to strengthen the Judgement, and consequently give the true Bent and Turn to the Will and the Conscience, rather than fill the Memory, and warm the Fancy; in a Word, That they would labour to make the Persons committed to their Charge, Prudent, Honest, and good Men, and think this better Service, and infinitely higher Accomplishments, than the making them Nice, Florid, Learned, or all that which the World calls fine Scholars, and fine Gentlemen. Of the Three predominant Parts of the Reasonable Soul, Judgement is the Chief, and most Valuable; 
Book I. Chap. 19  as was shown at large in the Beginning of this Treatise, to which I refer my Reader. But almost all the World are of another Opinion, and run greedily after Art and acquired Learning. Parents are at an infinite Expense; and Children themselves at infinite Pains and trouble, to purchase a Stock of Knowledge; and yet Tacitus his Complaint may be ours at this Day; That the Excess of Learning is our Disease; and as it is in all other Excesses, the World is not the better, but the worse for it: For in the midst of all this Fruitless Care and Charge, they are in little or no Concern, for that which would come at a much easier Rate; the breeding them so, that they may be Prudent and Honest, and fit for Business. Now, though this Fault may be so general, yet All are not Guilty of it upon the same Principle. Some are blindly led away by Custom; and imagine, that Wisdom and Learning are either the same thing, or very near of Kin to one another; but to be sure, that they constantly go together, and that one of them cannot possibly be attained without the other. These Men are under an innocent Mistake, and deserve to have some Pains taken with them, for their better Information. Others are wilfully in the Wrong; and know well enough the Difference between these Two: But still they will have artifical and acquired Knowledge, whatever it cost them. And indeed as the Case stands now with our Western Parts of Europe; this is the only way to make a Noise in the World. Reputation and Riches are not to be got without it. So that the Persons we now speak of, make a Trade of Learning, and sink it into a Mercenary, Pedantic, Sordid, Mechanical Thing. A Commodity bought dear, to be sold again dearer at second Hand. These Hucksters are passed all Cure, and it is not worth while to give ourselves any Trouble about them. Not but that our Men of Mode are, some of them as Extravagantly Foolish in the other Extreme, who esteem Learning an ungentile Thing, and somewhat too Pedantic and Mean for Quality, and esteem a Man the less for being a Scholar. This is but another Proof of their Folly and Emptiness, and Want of all Sense of Virtue and Honour, which their Ignorance, Impertinence, sauntring Lives, and vain Fopperies, give us such abundant Demonstrations of every Day.  
But now for the Instruction of those Others, 
Learning and Wisdom compared.  that give us some Hopes of Recovery, and for the discovering where their Mistake lies, we must show Two Things First, That there is a Real Difference between Learning and Wisdom; and that the Latter is infinitely to be preferred, before any the most exquisite and exalted Degree of the Former. Secondly, That they do not always go together, nay, that most commonly they obstruct each other; insomuch that your Men of nice Learning are not often eminent for Wisdom; nor your Truly wise Men deep Learned. There are, I confess, some Exceptions to this last Observation, but it were hearty to be wished there were more of them. They that are so, are Men of Great, and Noble Souls; of which Antiquity furnishes some Instances, but the more Modern Times are very barren of them.  
In order to the doing this Argument Right, we must first know what Learning and Wisdom are. Now, Learning is a vast Collection of other People's Excellencies; a Stock laid in with Labour and long Trouble, of all that we have seen, and heard, and read in Books; the Say and Actions of Great and Good Men, who have lived in all Ages and Nations. The Repository or Magazine, where this Provision is treasured up, is the Memory. He who is provided by Nature with a good Memory, hath no body to blame but himself, if he be not a Scholar; for he hath the Means in his own Hands. Wisdom is a calm and regular Government of the Soul: That Man is Wise, who observes true Measures, and a due Decorum in his Thoughts, and Opinions, and Desires; his Words, and Actions, and Deportment. In short; Wisdom is the Rule and Standard of the Soul, and he that uses this Rule aright, that is, The Man of Judgement and Discretion, that sees, and discerns, judges and esteems Things according to their Nature and Intrinsic Value; who places each in its just Order and Degree, is the Person we would have every one attempt to be. And how Reasonable that Advice is, will quickly appear, by observing how far the greater Excellence of the Two, this of Wisdom is.  
Learning, however Valuable in itself, is yet but a poor and barren Accomplishment, in Comparison of Wisdom: For it is not only unnecessary; being what Two Parts in Three of Mankind make a very good Shift without; but the Usefulness of is but small; and there are but a very few Instances (comparatively) to which that Usefulness extends. It contributes nothing at all to Life; for how many do we see of all Qualities and Conditions, High and Low, Rich and Poor, that pass their Time in great. Ease and Pleasure, without knowing any thing at all of the Matter? There are a great many other Things, more Serviceable both to Men's private Happiness, and to Human Society in General. Honour, and Reputation, Noble Birth, and Quality, and yet even These are far from being absolutely necessary; The most they can pretend to, is the being Ornaments, and Conveniences, and additional Advantages. It contributes Nothing to any Natural Operations; the most ignorant Man, in this Respect, is upon the Level with the greatest Clerk. For Nature is of herself a sufficient Mistress, and deals to every one the Knowledge needful for supporting her own Occasions. Nor does it in any Degree assist a Man's Probity; no body is one whit the Honester, or Juster for it; rather indeed it hinders and corrupts the Integrity of the Mind, by teaching Men to be Subtle, and to distinguish all Plain-dealing quite away. Look into the Characters of Excellent Persons in History; and you shall find most amongst them of moderate and very indifferent Attainments. Witness Old Rome, which, in the Days of her Ignorance, was renowned for Justice and Honour; but when Learning and Eloquence got the Ascendent, the Fame of her Virtue was in its Declension; and in Proportion as men's Wits grew more Subtle and Refined, Innocence and Simplicity fell into Decay and Contempt. Sects and Heresies, Errors and Atheism itself have ever been set on foot and propagated, by Persons of Artifice and Learning. The primitive Source of our Misery and Ruin, and that first Temptation of the Devil, which inveigled and undid Mankind, was an unseasonable and intemperate Desire of Knowledge. Ye shall be as Gods discerning between Good and Evil, was that fatal Expectation, which depressed our first Parents, and made them less than Man. The more Men employed their Wits in Study, the more plausible, and consequently the more dangerous Notions they started; which made St. Paul bid his Colossians beware, that they were not seduced by Philosophy, and vain Deceit. And one of the Learnedest Men, that ever lived, speaks but very meanly of it, as a Thing Vain and Unprofitable, Hurtful and Troublesome, such as was never to be enjoyed without many grievous Encumbrances; since he that increaseth Knowledge must unavoidably increase Sorrow at the same Time. In a Word; Learning, it is confessed, may Civilize and refine us, but it cannot moralise us; we may be more courteous, and conversable, and accomplished; but we cannot be one jot the Holier, the Juster, more Temperate, or more Charitable for it. Nay, Fourthly, it does us no Service, neither in the sweetening of our Lives, or abating our Resentments, for any of the Afflictions that embitter them. It rather sets a Sharper Edge upon our Calamities, and raises our Sense of them to be more quick and tender. Accordingly we see, that Children, and plain ignorant People, (who measure their Misfortunes, only by what they feel at present, and neither anticipate, and give them an Imaginary Being; nor revive and, as it were, raise them from the Dead again by melancholy Reflections,) get over their Sufferings much more easily, and support themselves under them with much greater Temper and Moderation, than your acquaint, and refined, and more thinking Men. Ignorance is in some Degree a good Remedy; a strong Amulet against Misfortunes; and our Friends (it is very manifest) are of that Opinion, when they beg of us to forget, and not to think of them. For what is this but to drive us hither for Shelter? I confess such Advice is Ridiculous, and a mere Jest; for Remembering and Forgetting, are not Things in our own disposal; and all we can contribute toward this, is not to torment ourselves Industriously; not to awaken the sleeping Lion; and when such Reflections offer themselves, to soften, and counter-Work them, by Arguments for Patience and Contentedness; But here our Advisers play the Surgeon's Part; who when they cannot heal the Wound, assuage the Pain and Skin over the Sore, as well as they can. Those that have advised People to dispatch themselves, when their Sufferings are come to Extremity, and all Hope, all Possibility of Amendment gone, are directly of the same Mind: For what is Death but a State of Stupidity and Insensibility? and those who seek a Refuge here, acknowledge Ignorance to be their last, and most effectual Remedy.  
But now, Wisdom is an Accomplishment, of absolute Necessity, and universal Use; All Things fall within the Verge of its Jurisdiction, and nothing can be exempted, or concealed from its Cognizance. It rules and sits Supreme in War and in Peace; in Public and Private; nay, it presides over our Frolicks and Feasts; our Jollities and Recreations; for All these aught to be managed with Prudence, and Discretion, and Sobriety. And, where Wisdom does not interpose, all things run into Disorder and Confusion.  
Secondly. Learning is Servile, and Mean, and Mechanical, when put into the Balance with Wisdom; It is a borrowed Excellence, and borrowed with great Importunity too. A learned Man is like the Jay in the Fable, tricked up and made fine with the Feathers of other Birds. He sets himself off and entertains the World with his Reading; but this is like making a Feast at another Man's Cost. Whereas the Wise Man lives upon his Rents, and hath an inexhaustible Fund of his own: For Wisdom is a Man's proper Possession, an Inheritance settled upon him by Nature; but cultivated, and made Fertile, by Art, and Industry, and Exercise.  
Thirdly. The Qualities and Conditions of these Two are vastly Different; more Graceful, more Generous in the One, than the Other. Learning is usually Proud and Peevish, Captious and Cavilling, Arrogant and Presumptuous, Peremptory and Bold, Quarrelsome and addicted to Disputes, Ill-mannerd and Indiscreet. Wisdom is Modest and Reserved, Gentle and Peaceable, free from a Spirit of Contradiction, and full of Respect. Again. Learning is commonly Forward and Affected, Unseasonable and Pretending, always thrusting itself in at every Thing, and yet able to do Nothing: For it consists not in Action, but in Talk. But Wisdom is full of Efficacy and Activity; it Manages and Governs every Thing; and is never Troublesome, or Vain; never Nauseous or out of Time.  
Thus it Appears, that there is a mighty Difference between true Wisdom, and acquired Knowledge; and how much the One is Better and more Valuable than the Other. As much indeed, as a Thing that is indispensably Necessary, and of general Use, Active and Vigorous, and Substantial; Noble, and Virtuous, and Becoming; excels another, which is Serviceable but in some Cases, and absolutely Necessary in none; Impotent and Unactive, Mechanic and Mean, Presumptuous and Positive, Stiff and Humoursome; Captious and Cavilling.  
Let us Now proceed to the Other part of this Argument, which undertakes to prove, that these Two do not always go together; nay, that they are generally found single and asunder. The Account of this, so far as Nature is concerned in it, seems to be, what hath been formerly explained at large; that the Temperaments of the Brain, which capacitate and dispose Men to these several Accomplishments, are distant and incompatible: For That where Memory excels, which qualifies Men for acquired Learning, is Moist; and the other, where Wisdom is Predominant and Judgement excels, is Dry. This is also hinted to us, by what the Scriptures mention to have befallen our first Parents; for in the Instant that they fixed their Desires upon Speculative Knowledge, Wisdom forsook them quite; and the Advantages of this Kind, which were included in the Original Perfection of Human Nature, were withdrawn. And constant Experience shows us, that the Fate of their Successors is still in Proportion the same. The Greatest and most Flourishing Empires and Commonwealths, both Ancient and Modern have been, and yet are governed by Wisdom destitute of Scholarship; both in Civil and Military Affairs. Rome was as Ignorant as any other Part of the World, for the First Five Hundred Years; and then was its Acme both for Virtue and Valour: when Learning came in, Corruption and Vice, Factions and Civil Wars entered with it. The most glorious Constitution the World ever saw, was that of the Lacoedemonians founded by Lycurgus. The Gallantest Men in Story were bred under it, and yet they do not seem to have made any Pretention to Learning, or to express any great Esteem for it at that time. This was the Famous School for Virtue and Wisdom; and conquered Athens, the most refined City in the World, the Scene of Sciences, the Seat of the Muses, and Storehouse of Philosophy. These Examples are Notorious in Ancient Story. If we descend down to our own Times: All those large, wealthy and flourishing Kingdoms in the East and West Indies, lived very well, and wanted neither Grandeur nor Plenty; they never had Learning, nor did they ever feel the Want of it; nay; they were Ignorant even of reading and writing; and the Knowledge as they have now, hath been purchased at the expense of their Liberty: Besides that, they have learned to cheat, and to be Vicious into the Bargain, and several wicked Arts, never so much as mentioned amongst them before. But indeed where do we find an Empire, for Glory and Success, comparable to that of the Grand Signior? He, like the Lion of the World, renders himself Formidable to all his Neighbours; and is a Check and Terror to the Princes and Monarches of the Earth. And yet in this whole Dominion, Nothing Reigns so Universally, as profound Ignorance of Letters; No Professors of Sciences, no Schools, no Allowance to read for the Public Instruction of others; no, not even in Religion itself. What then hath contained this State in such excellent Order? what hath procured all its Successes? what indeed but Prudence, and Discipline, and Conduct? Turn your Eyes now, and observe those other Kingdoms where Learning hath been in Authority and Reputation. That of France, for Example, which seems to succeed Athens in all its Glory. The Principal Ministers of this Crown, the Constables, and Mareschals, and Admirals, and Secretaries of State, through whose Hands all Business of Moment passes, are for the most Part Persons of little or not acquired Learning. And we know, that several eminent Lawgivers, and Princes, and Founders of Commonwealths, have utterly banished all Studies of this Nature as the Poison and Plague of a Nation; So did Licinius, and Valentinian, and Mahomet, and an ancienter and better Man than all these, Lycurgus. This is a sufficient Proof, that there may be Wisdom, where there is no acquired Learning. Let us next inquire, whether we can find Learning destitute of Wisdom; and the Instances of this Part, are no less obvious, and numerous, than the other. Do but take notice of great part of the Men, who make Learning their Study and Profession, whose Heads are full of Aristotle, and Cicero, the Philosophers, and the Schoolmen. Are there any People in the World more awkward and uncouth in Business? Is it not a common Proverb, when we see a Man Odd and Clumsy, to say He is a mere Scholar? One would almost think, that they had pored away their Senses; and that excess of Knowledge had stunned and stupefied them. How many are there, who would have made excellent Persons, had they not sunk and dwindled into Pedantry; and had been wiser Men, if they had traded upon their own Natural Stock, and never sat down to Books at all? and how many of their own Brethren do we see, who never had that Education, and prove much shrewder Men, and better Contrivers, more quick and expert in all manner of Business? Take one of your Nice Disputants, or acquaint Rhetoricians, bring him into a debate at the next Corporation, where any Matter of Government, or Civil Interest is under Deliberation; put him upon speaking to the Point, and he shall Blush and Tremble, turn Pale, and Cough, and Him: But it is Odds, if he say any Thing to the Purpose. At last perhaps, you shall have a formal Harangue; some Definitions of Aristotle, or Quotations out of Tully, with an Ergo at the End of them. And yet at the same Meeting you shall have a dull, plodding Alderman, that chalks up all his Acounts behind the Door; and can neither write nor read, and yet this Fellow, by seeing and knowing the World, shall out of his own Observation and Experience, come to better Resolutions, and propose more feasible and proper Expedients, than the subtlest and most refined Student of them all. Were Matters indeed so managed, that Men turned their Speculation into Practice, and took Care to apply their Reading to the Purposes of Human Life; the Advantage of Learning would be unspeakable; and we see how illustriously such Persons shine in the World. And therefore what I have said upon this Occasion, is not to be stretched to the Prejudice of Learning in general; but only to such a false Opinion of it, as depends upon This alone for the most eligible, and Only Qualification of the Mind of Man; and so rests upon it, and buries it in Inactivity. This the foregoing Instances show is frequently done, and a very vulgar Error; and consequently they prove the Point, for the Illustration of which alone they are produced; and that is, That this Distinction between Wisdom and Learning is not Imaginary, but grounded upon a real Differece; and that in Fact these Two do not always go Hand in Hand, nor meet in the same Person.  
This I design to make appear more fully in the following Paragraphs of this Chapter; for I have already promised, not to content myself with urging bare matter of Fact, but likewise to enter into the Reason of the Thing. An Enquiry, which I am the more Zealous, and look upon myself obliged to satisfy, that so I may prevent any Offence being taken at the former Reflection; and cut off any Suspicious, which some might be provoked to entertain concerning me, as if I were an Enemy to Learning, and thought it Insignificant and Despicable. There is, I confess, ground sufficient for this Question, why Wisdom and Learning should not go together; for it is a very odd Case, and seems foreign to the Reason of the Thing, that a Man should not be very much the Wiser, for being a better Scholar; since Learning and Study is without Controversy the ready Road, and a most Excellent Instrument and Preparation to Wisdom. Take any Two Men, equal in all other Respects; let the One be a Man of Letters, the Other not so. 'Tis plain, He who hath employed his Time in Study, aught to be a great deal Wiser than the other; and it will be expected from him, that he should prove so: For he hath all the Advantages, that the Unlettered Man hath; a Natural Capacity, Reason and Understanding; and he hath a great deal more besides too; the Additional Improvements of Reading, which have furnished him with the Examples, Directions, Discourses, and Determinations, of the Greatest Men that ever were in the World. Must not this Person then be Wiser, more Apprehensive and Judicious, of a more exalted Virtue, and greater Address, than the other who is altogether destitute of such Helps; Since he hath the same Stock to set up with, and all these foreign Assistances acquired, and transported to him from all the Quarters of the Universe besides? Since, as one says very truly, The Natural Advantages, when joined and strengthened by the Accidental, make a Noble and Complete Composition. And yet, in despite of all our Reasonings to the contrary, Experience, and undeniable Matter of Fact, give us Ten thousand Instances of its being otherwise.  
Now, the true Reason, and satisfactory Answer to this Doubt, stands really thus. That the Methods of Instruction are not well ordered. Books and Places of Public Education furnish Men with admirable Matter; but they do not imbibe, and use it, as they should do. Hence it is, that vast Improvements in Knowledge turn to so very slender Account: They are Poor in the midst of Plenty; and, like Tantalus in the Fable, starved with the Meat at their Mouths. When they apply themselves to Reading, the Thing they principally aim at, is to learn Words more than Things; or at least, they content themselves with a very slight and superficial Knowledge of Things; and He is reputed the best Scholar, who hath made the largest Collections, and crammed his Memory fullest. Thus they are I earned, but not with any Care of polishing their Minds, and forming their Judgements, or growing practically Wise. Like a Man that puts his Bread in his Pocket, and not in his Stomach; and if he go on Thus, he may be famished for want of Sustenance, notwithstanding both Pockets are full. Thus they continue Fools, with a vast Treasure of Wisdom in their Brains. They study for Entertainment, or Ostentation, or Gain, or Applause; and not for their own true Benefit, and the becoming Useful to the World. They are living Repertories and Common-place Books; and would be rare Compilers of Precedents and Reports. Cicero, they tell you, or Aristotle, or Plato say Thus and Thus; but all this while, They say not one Tittle of their own Observation. They are guilty of Two great Faults: One is, that they do not apply what they read, to themselves, nor make it their own by Meditation, Reflection and Use; so that all this while they have not advanced one Step in Virtue; nor are One whit more Prudent, more Resolute and Confirmed in Goodness; and thus their Scholarship is never digested, and incorporated with the Soul, but swims and floats about in the Brain, and consequently can never nourish, or do them any manner of Good. The Other is, That in all this Time and Trouble, so diligently spent in heaping together the Wealth of other Men, they neglect their own Proper and Natural Fund, and let this lie dead, and rust upon their Hands, for want of Exercise. Now, Others, who are not capable of Study, have nothing but their own Common Sense and Reason to be intent upon; and therefore they must keep it in constant Employment. They manure and cultivate their little Plate of Ground, and reap a Crop in proportion to their Diligence; grow Better, and Wiser, more Resolure and Steady, though not so Knowing, or so Eloquent, so Wealthy, or so Celebrated in the World. The whole of which Observation may be reduced to that short Maxim of an Author to this purpose; That weak and little Souls are spoiled by Learning, but vigorous and great Ones are perfected by it. The Former are diverted by it from Matters more Weighty and Substantial; the Latter make it only Subservient to such, and transcribe it all into their own Practice.  
Now, the Method, which I would prescribe, for reforming this unprofitable and superficial Way of Study, is as follows. Not to trouble our Heads, and waste our Time, in retaining and treasuring up other men's Knowledge; only that we may be able to repeat and quote it, and make a Show and Noise with it in Company; or else to convert it to Gain, and so employ it to Sordid and Mercenary Purposes; but to enrich our Minds in good Earnest, by making other men's Notions our own: Not barely to give them Lodging and Entertainment in our Souls, and use them like Guests, but to incorporate and transubstantiate them: Not only to sprinkle the Mind with them, but thoroughly to soak, and drench it; that the Tincture may be taken all over, and we may become effectually Wise, and Good, and Generous, and brave; For if This be not done, what is all our Study good for? 
* Non paranda nobis solùm, sed fruenda sapientia est.  We must not only get Wisdom, but we must use and enjoy it, if we will do any thing to Purpose. We must not do like the Gatherers of Nosegays, that pick up here and there whole Flowers, and after that make them up into Nosegays to sell or give away; For thus unskilful Students do; They get together a Collection of good Say and Observations out of the Books they have read; merely for the Sake of Ostentation, and to put them off in all Company where they come: But we must imitate the Bees, that never take away the Flower entire; but sit and brood upon it, suck out the Life, and Spirit, and Quintessence, and convert it into their own Substance, and Nourishment; and when This is done, they do not render it back again in Thyme, or Marjoram, as they drew it in, but distil it into most delicious and excellent Honey. Just after the same Manner, We are not obliged to put ourselves under the Slavery of getting Things by Heart; and saying them again by Rote; (which some value themselves upon,) nor need we tie up our Attention, to that superstitious Vanity of others, That of remembering precisely the very Passage, and Page, and Chapter; (all which devours our Time, and our Pains, and is bought very Dear with the Loss of that which our Minds should principally aim at;) but we should draw out the Marrow and Substance of our Authors, feed and feast our Thoughts upon them; deduce Inferences, and form the Judgement, and give the Soul quite another Turn; we should bring all Home, and lay it close to our Hearts; that it may be entirely of a Piece with us, instruct our Understandings, regulate our Affections, direct and incline our Wills, and guide our Consciences in all their practical Determinations and Debates. In a Word, The Principles of Honesty, and Wisdom, and Prudence, and Perseverance, which we meet with scattered up and down in Books, we are to collect into one entire Body; and out of that make an Honest, Wise, Prudent, and Well-resolved Man. So says Tacitus upon a like Occasion, 
* Non ad pompam, nec ad speciem, nec ut nomine magnisico sequi otium velis, sed quò firmior adversus fortuita Rempublicam capessas.  Our Intention must not be Pomp, and Show, the Credit and Reputation of being Book-learned; but the fitting ourselves for Action and Business, and fortifying our Minds against any Accidents that may happen to us.  
In order hereunto, there must be Care used, that a Proper and Prudent Choice be made of the Sciences young People apply their Studies to. Now those, which I dare take upon me to recommend, because they manifestly conduce most of any, to that sort of Study which I have here been propounding, are Natural and Moral Philosophy; for These teach us what it is to live, and what to live Well; and entertain us with the Images and Beauties both of Nature, and of Virtue; show us; what we are, and what be aught to be. Under the Heads of Morality I comprehend Politics, Economics, and History, as well as that which is more Peculiarly called Ethics. All other Studies are in a manner Emptiness and Air, Diversions to recreate the Mind, but not of Weight enough to make them our Business. And therefore we should take a little of Them by the by; but these we may fix and dwell upon, because They will not fail to stick by Us, and amply to reward our Pains.  
This End, to which the Instruction of young People should be directed, and the stating our Comparison between Wisdom and acquired Learning hath detained us a very great while, by Reason of the Controversies arising upon it. Let us now at length prosecute the other Parts of this Subject, and come to those Directions which still remain behind. Now, the Manner of either informing one's self, or instructing others, is very various: For first there are Two Ways of Learning, the One Verbal; that is, by Precepts, Instructions, and Lessons read, or heard, or explained to us; or else by Conference and Discourse with able and good Men, thus polishing, and whetting our Minds upon Theirs; as Iron is brightened, and cleansed, and sharpened by the File. This is a very agreeable, and pleasant, and Natural Course.  
The Other Method of Instruction is by Facts; This is what we call Example, and a mighty Advantage may be made of it, not only with Regard to those Good and Commendable Ones, which we shall do well carefully to Copy, and conform ourselves to; but to those likewise, that are Ill; such as we are obliged to avoid and detest, and suffer no manner of Resemblance, or Agreement with. Some Dispositions are so form, that they improve abundantly more, by this kind of Instruction taken from Contraries; and are much more dextrous at Declining, than Imitating. This is particularly the Method, which public Justice takes with us; It condemns one Malefactor, that he may be a Warning, and create Horror in others. And Cato the Elder used to say, that Wise Men might learn a great ideal more from Fools, than Fools could from Wise Men. The Lacedoemonians, to work in their Children an Abhorrence of Drunkenness, and draw them off from this beastly Vice effectually, made their Slaves drunk; that so this Odious and Ridiculous Spectacle, might leave lasting Impressions behind it. Now, this Second Way of Learning by Example, is infinitely the easier, and more entertaining of the Two. To learn by Precepts is a long and tedious Journey, and carries us a great way about; because it costs us Time and Pains to understand them; and fresh Labour to remember what we do understand; and, after all this, the greatest and most difficult Part of our Business, is to be ready and punctual in the Practice of what we do remember. So that we cannot easily assure ourselves of reaping the Fruit, which is, and aught to be propounded, as the Recompense of our Studies in this kind. But now Example and Imitation comes Home to us presently, and does the Work at once; it draws us on with greater Eagerness and Zeal; it fires us with a Noble Emulation, of our Patterns, and encourages us with a Prospect of the same Reputation and Advantage, which those Good and Great Men have already attained to by their shining Virtues. All Seeds do by Degrees conform to the Quality of the Soil into which they are transplanted; and carry the Relish of that which is the natural Growth of the Place. And thus the Minds and Manners of Men are assimulated and transformed, into the Dispositions, and Habits, of the Persons, whose Actions they contemplate, and whose Company they frequent: For there is an Universal Contagion in Nature, and One thing is daily more and more changed, and drawn into a nearer Resemblance of another.  
Now, these Methods of Improvement, both by Verbal Precepts, and by Examples, are capable of a farther Distinction: For they are deduced and drawn into Practice from Excellent Persons; who are either now living, by the Benefit of Conversation, and Mutual Conference, or sensible Observation; or else from such as are already dead, by reading of Books, and such Accounts, as History delivers to us concerning them.  
The Former, of holding a Correspondence with the Living, is the more Lively, and Vigorous, and Natural. This indeed is a very Profitable Exercise; much in request among the Ancients, and especially in Greece; but than it is accidental and uncertain; it depends upon another, and you cannot always enjoy it, when you would. It is also Difficult and Rare, for a Man cannot every where meet with Persons proper for it, and less yet can he enjoy them sufficiently to improve by. This again is capable of being practised, either about Home, or at a greater Distance, by travelling and visiting foreign Countries. An that is an Advantage, I confess, very considerable, provided a Man make the most of it: For the End of Travelling is not to entertain ourselves with fine Sights, or to bring back an Account of the Buildings, or Grottos, or Fountains we see abroad; but to study the Natives, and observe their different Humours, and Manner of Living, their Vices and Virtues, their Laws and Customs, their private Conduct, and public Constitutions. This is a most agreeable, and a most profitable Way of Education in all Respects; It contributes much to Health, by keeping the Body in Morion and Moderate Exercise, a due Medium between Idleness and Fatigue: And it keeps the Mind in continual Employment too, by presenting new and strange Objects to it every Day; and provoking it to proper Observations and Reflections from them; and particularly to the drawing Comparisons between these fresh and foreign Matters, and what we had seen and were acquainted with before. And indeed there is no better School of Life in the World, than the seeing continually so many different Tempers and Ways of living; contemplating the Beauty of Nature in all her different Forms, and out of all these, to pick and cull that, which may complete and adorn our own Conversation.  
The other Sort of Correspondence is kept up with the Dead by the Help of Books; and This is more sure and constant to us. We have it in our own Disposal, and can go into this Company when we will; and beside, it is more suitable to the Circumstances of most Men, because the Trouble and Expense is much Easier, than in the former Case. They who know how to make a good Use of this, may reap infinite Advantage and Satisfaction from it. It discharges us from the Burden of a troublesome Idleness; fills up the void Spaces of Leisure; and leaves no Room for any Complaints of Time hanging upon our Hands; It draws us from the vain and tormenting Imaginations of a roving Mind; and diverts the Uneasiness of any Affairs or Accidents from without, which are apt to distract and perplex our Thoughts, when they find us out of Business, and at Liberty to attend them: It is a powerful Preservative against Vice; not only by the Force of the Arguments and Instructions it furnishes us with, to oppose and subdue it, but by keeping us out of Harm's Way, and at a distance from the Temptation: It ministers Comfort, and marvellous Relief in our Calamities and Sufferings; but than it must be acknowledged with all, that it only contributes to the Health and Good Constitution of the Mind; for this is a Sedentary Life, it keeps the Body out of Exercise; and, if pursued with great Vehemence and constant Application, wastes its Strength, impairs its Vigour and Complexion, and disposes it to Melancholy, and Diseases.  
The next thing to be done is to give some Directions concerning a Tutor's Method, and the Forms of Instruction, 
Putting our Scholars upon Discourse  which it will be proper for him to Observe, in Order to the making his Care Successful. This Head consists of several Parts. The First Advice I shall give upon it is, That he would frequently confer with his Charge; ask him Questions, and put him upon giving his own Opinion, upon every fresh Occasion or Object, that offers itself to his Consideration. This I am afraid is but too opposite to the manner of proceeding generally in use; the Master talks All, and teaches his Children in a Dogmatical Way; thus pouring his own Notions into their Heads like Water into a Vessel; so that They in the mean while have nothing to do but to keep their Ears open, and are purely passive in the whole Matter. This is certainly a very Ill Custom. 
* Obest plerumque iis, qui discere volunt, Authoritas eorum qui docent,  The Authority of the Teacher, and his taking so much upon himself, is a common and a mighty Hindrance to the Improvement even of the most diligent Scholar. Their Apprehension should be awakend and warmed by starting of Doubts, and requiring an Account of what we have infused into them; and they should likewise be indulged in the same Liberty of ask us Questions, and putting Cases, informing themselves, and opening their own Way. If we never allow them to come in for a Share of the Discourse, all we say to them will be to little Purpose: Our Scholar only gives us the Hearing, and that sometimes but Coldly and Negligently neither; but as to any Application or Improvement, he troubles not himself, nor is at all Zealous about it; because This is a Matter which he is not called upon for, nor concerned to bear a Part in the Conversation. Nor is it enough in this Case, that we make them Deliver their Opinions, except we moreover require them to allege their Reasons, and oblige them to argue in Defence of it: For this is the Way to prevent their talking without Book, and by Rote; This will make them Heedful and Attentive, Cautious what they say, and considerate before they speak; and, for their better Encouragement to confer with us freely, we must commend, and make the best of what they say; and where the Performance falls short, we must accept the Endeavour very graciously. This Method of Instruction by way of Questions, was admirably put in Practice by Socrates, who was indeed the greatest Master in it of all the Philosophers; and we see all along in Plato, by what a Chain and Mutual Connexion of Inquiries, he led Men gently up to the Truth; and by insensible Degrees gained his Point upon the Objectors. But indeed a much Greater than Socrates hath set us a Pattern in it; Even our Blessed Lord, who, with inimitable Prudence, appealed to Men's own Sense and Judgement; and as he sometimes taught his Disciples, so did he at others confute his Adversaries out of their own Mouths. Now these Questions and Conferences need not always be confined to such Subjects, as the Attainments of Memory, or Fancy, or what we call acquired Knowledge are concerned in; but may, (indeed they ought much rather to) be extended to such as are Trials of the Judgement, and sound Sense. So that no sort of Subjects, will be excluded; for all, even the least and most Inconsiderable, are capable of being employed to very good Purpose. The Negligence of a Servant, the Folly of a Child, the Moroseness and Ill-nature of a Clown, the Sports or Plays of Boys, the Talk at Table; for the Excellency and Business of Judgement does by no Means consist in the Management or Determination of Weighty or Sublime Matters only, but in passing a true and Right Decision, and setting a just Value upon all Manner of Things, be they Great or Small, Trivial or Important: It is not the Condition of the Subject, but the Truth, and Pertinency of what is resolved, and said upon it, that proves the Person to be Judicious. It will be very convenient therefore to let him deliver his Opinion of Men and Actions; but, to be sure, always to say somewhat in Justification of his Opinion; and to let nothing pass without some Reflection, and the Inducements, which move him to think thus rather than otherwise: For This will have a wonderful Influence in the directing his Conscience, and practical Judgement; which is of all other Faculties most necessary to be cultivated and set Right; because, if This Happen to go amiss, all our Actions which result from its Determination, must consequently be Irregular. Cyrus' his Tutor in Xenophon took this Course; and propounded the following Matter of Fact for an Exercise and Lesson to his Pupil. A great Boy having a short Coat, gave it to one of his Playfellows, who was less than himself, and took away his Coat in Exchange, which was Larger, and too Big for the right Owner: Now, the Thing required of Cyrus was to deliver his Judgement upon this Matter. Cyrus' his Opinion was, that the Matter was very well ordered, and much better than before; for now both the Boys were fitted to their Turn, whereas, till that Exchange was made, neither of them was so. His Tutor rebuked him very sharply for so rash and unjust a Judgement; for that he had only considered the Convenience of the Thing, and not the Right and Merits of the Cause; since Justice is of so much greater Consequence, that the other ought not to be put into the Balance with it; nor must a Man's Property be invaded, upon the Pretence of giving somewhat that its sitter for his Circumstances in the stead of it. This now is an excellent Way of informing them. Again, When they repeat or quote any Thing out of their Books; as Cicero, or Aristotle, or the like, This Task should be imposed, not merely for the Sake of retaining it in their Memories, but to fasten it in their Minds, and give them a true Taste of it, and enable them to judge of it themselves. And, in order to this, he should take it under all its different Appearances turn and examine it every way; and be taught to apply it to several Subjects. It would be a Matter of very small Consequence, for a Youth to tell a Story, of Cato's kill himself, for Fear of falling into the Hands of Caesar; or how Brutus and Cassius engaged in the taking Caesar off; This is the least Part of the Improvement such Historical Narrations are Capable of furnishing. The Main Point is, To call these Men before him, to Arraign, and Try, and Sentence them for these Actions; Whether they did Well or Ill; whether they consulted the Public Good, and behaved themselves like true Patriots; what Prudence, and Justice, and Courage, there was in these Instances; and wherein these Excellencies exerted, or their Contrary Qualities betrayed themselves. Lastly, In all the Questions, and Conferences, he ought to take Care, that his Charge proceed according to Truth; that he be taught to express himself Properly, and Pertinently; to reason justly; and to exercise his Practical Judgement of Things, which is an Excellence and Accomplishment infinitely to be preferred before any the nicest Subtleties of the most refined speculative Knowledge. And in such Exercises as these, No Doubt should be left unsatisfied; no Point suffered to pass off Imperfectly discussed; no Connivance given to lame and superficial Accounts of Things, the little Shift of an Argument, or the calling of an other Cause; but the Scholar must be pressed home; carried to the Bottom of all that is propounded; kept close to the Matter in Hand; that so he may be a perfect Master of what he undertakes, and have solid and substantial Grounds for the Opinions he entertains.  
Secondly, He ought to train his Pupil up to a becoming Curiosity, and a Desire to know every Thing his Condition is capable of. That so he may always have his Mind intent, and his Wits about him; applying himself to weigh and consider Critically all that is said or done in his Company; taking nothing at first View, without Reflection, and a Second Examination of it privately in his own Thoughts. And not only so, but with Modesty and Temper to inform himself, and consult others, in Matters both of Right, and of Fact. It is a common Proverb, That he who never asks Questions, will never be a Wise Man; that is, If a Man's Mind be not kept stirring, it will rust and mould; and nothing but constant Use and Exercise can cleanse and brighten it. Now, whatever of this Kind falls under his Consideration, should be managed to the best Advantage; applied and brought home to himself; discoursed and advised upon with others; and that, whether it be somewhat already past, to discover what Defects there were, and which were the false Steps in it; or whether it be somewhat future, that he may govern himself regularly; be warned of any Hazards and Dangers that attend what he goes about; and prevent Miscarriages and Inconvenience, by growing wise in Time. Children should never be left to their own idle Fancies, to dare and trifle alone; For their Age and Capacity, not being of itself able to furnish Noble Matter of Thought, will certainly dwindle into Vanity, and feed upon Impertinencies and Whimsies of a Size with their Imaginations. They should therefore be kept in constant Employment; to exercise and give them a Manly Way of thinking; and particularly to beget and excite this inquisitive Humour, and eager Appetite of Knowledge, which will be sure to keep their Souls always awake and busy, and by inspiring them with a Noble Emulation, be Eternally putting forward to fresh and larger Attainments. And this Curiosity, if qualified, as I have here described it, will neither be Vain and Fruitless in itself, nor Troublesome or Unmannerly to any, they converse with.  
Thirdly, Another necessary Care in the Instructing of Children is, To frame and mould their Minds, after the Model of Universal Nature, taking the World at large for our Pattern; to make the Universe their Book, and whatever Subject lies before them, to draw it in full Proportion, and represent the several Opinions and Customs, which do, or ever have prevailed with regard to it. The Greatest and most Excellent Persons have always had the freest and most enlarged Souls: For this indeed strengthens and confirms the Mind; delivers it from Wonder and Surprise; and fixes it in Reason and Resolution; which is the highest Point of Wisdom. This Particular, and the Benefits of it, as well as the Absurdity and great Uneasinesses of the Contrary hath been so largely insisted upon heretofore, 
See Book II. Ch. 2.  that I shall omit what might be said more upon it here; adding only this Observation, That such a large and universal Spirit must be the Business and Acquest of early Application, and Diligence in the Master; before the Prepossessions of his Native Country and Customs have taken too fast Hold upon his Scholar; and when he is ripe for Travelling and Conversation, that which will contribute most to the perfecting him in this Disposition, is going abroad; conferring much with Foreigners; or, if that cannot be, yet informing himself at Home, by reading such Books as give Account of Travels into remote Parts of the World, and contain the Histories of all Nations.  
Lastly, Children ought to be taught betimes not to swallow things at a venture, nor receive any Opinions upon Trust, and the bare Authority of the Person who delivers them; but to seek and expect all the Evidence that can be had, before they yield their Assent. The contrary Easiness of Mind, is to suffer one's self to be led about hood-winked; to renounce the Use of Reason quite, and submit to the Condition of Brutes, whose Business is only to know their Driver, and go as they are directed: Let every Thing therefore be fairly propounded; let the Arguments on each Side be stated, and set in their true Light, and then let him choose, as Judgement shall determine him. If he be at a Loss, which Side he should incline to, let him deliberate longer, and doubt on; such a distrust and uncertainty of Mind is an excellent Sign; more Safe, more Promising than a rash Confidence, which resolves Right or Wrong, and thinks itself always sure, though it can give no reason why. The Perplexities and Dilemmas of a cautious and considerate Person, are much to be preferred before even the true Determinations that are made in a Heat, and by Chance. But then, as the Youth should be taught always to practise upon his own Judgement, so should he learn likewise to have a Modest Diffidence of his Abilities; and when any Difficulty interposes, or the Resolution is of great Consequence, to consult those, who are proper to be advised with, and never venture to come to a peremptory Determination, merely upon the Strength of his own reasoning. For, As the being able to examine and compare Things is One Argument of Sufficiency, so is the calling in Help Another; and the refusing to rest upon one's own single Opinion is no Reflection upon our Wisdom; No Disparagement to what we think alone, but rather the quite contrary.  
Next after the Soul of Children, Parents are obliged to take Care of their Bodies; 
Advice for the Body.  and this is not to be deferred any more than the other. It hath no distinct and separate Seasons, but must go along with the Former; and only differs in This, that, tho' we ought to express a constant Care and Concern for both, yet we are not obliged to have that Concern equal for both. But, since Nature hath united these Two into One and the same Person, we must contribute to the Good of each by our joint Endeavours. Now, the Care of the Body will be most profitably Expressed, not in the Indulging its Appetites, or treating it tenderly (as the Generality of those, who pretend to resined Education do;) but by utterly abandoning all Softness and effeminate Nicety in  and Lodging, Meat and Drink; to give it plain and hearty Nourishment; a simple and wholesome Diet; considering the Convenience of Health and Digestion, more than the Pleasures and Delicacy, of the Palate: To support it in a Condition of Strength, capable of supporting Labour and Hardship; and accordingly inure it to Heat and Cold, Wind and Wether; That so the Muscles and Nerves, as well as the Soul, may be fortified for Toil; and by That, for Pain; For the Custom of the Former, hardens us against the Latter. In a Word, to keep the Body Vigorous and Fresh; and the Appetite and Constitution indifferent to all forts of Meats, and Tastes: For the several Parts of this Advice, are by no Means so insignificant, as they may seem. It were enough to say, that they conduce mightily to the preserving and confirming our Health; but That is not all; for the Benefit extends beyond our own Persons, and the Public is the better for them; as they enable and qualify Men for the enduring Fatigues, and so fit them for Business, and the Service of their Country.  
It is now Time to apply ourselves to the Third Branch of this Duty, 
Directions for Man●ners.  which contains a Parents Carey of his children's Manners; in which, Soul and Body both are very highly concerned. Now, this Care consists of Two Parts; The Preventing Ill Habits; and Cultivating Good Ones. The Former is the more Necessary, and Requires the more diligent Attention of the Two. And This is a Business, which ought to be begun very early indeed, a Man can hardly set about it too soon: For Vicious Dispositions grow into Habits apace; so that the Corruption of Nature is sure to be beforehand with us; and, if these Things be not stifled in the Birth, it is very difficult Dealing with them afterwards. I suppose, I need not say, that this Endeavour aught to be Universal, and bend itself against all Vice without Exception: But some there are, which I shall mention, and recommend the subduing of more especially, because they are more incident to that Condition of Life, and therefore more formidable than the rest.  
The First is Lying; A pitiful, poor-spirited Vice; the Character of Slaves and Cowards, the most ungenteel Quality that can be, and certain Indication of a base, degenerate, and timorous Soul; but more particularly, sit to be cautioned against in this Place; because harsh Methods, and rigorous Severities in the Education of Children, very often fright them into it at first, and lay the seeds of Fear and Falsehood for their whole Lives.  
The Second is an Awkward Bashfulness, which puts them upon hiding their Faces, hanging down their Heads, blushing and looking out of Countenance, when they are spoken to; makes them incapable of bearing any sort of Correction, or the least angry Word, without being disordered, and put quite out of Humour. A great deal of This is owing to the Natural Weakness and Tenderness of their Minds; but this Infirmity must be corrected by Study and Application; by learning them to bear Admonition and Rebukes, using them to see Company; and fortifying them with a becoming Assurance and Presence of Mind.  
Thirdly, All Affectation and Singularity in their Dress, their Mean, their Gate, their Gestures, their Speech, and every other Part of Behaviour. Making their Deportment and Conversation Masculine, and free; easy and unconstrained: For Affectation is a sure Sign of Vanity, an inordinate Desire of recommending themselves by doing somewhat particular, and out of the common Road; and is extremely Nauseous and Offensive to all Companies; it displeases even where it labours to oblige; and casts a Blemish upon our best Actions and kindest Intentions. 
* Licet sapere sine pompâ sine invidià.  A Man may be Wise without Ostentation, and should labour to be so, without giving Prejudice or Offence.  
But especially, They must check and utterly banish all Anger, and Peevishness, and Spite, and Obstinacy. And in order hereunto, It will be a good Rule to settle a Resolution never to gratify Children when they are froward, nor give them any thing they cry and are outrageous for. To make them sensible betimes, that these Arts will never do them service; and are therefore unprofitable, as well as unbecoming. Another necessary Course to this purpose will be, never to flatter, or wheedle, or caress them in their querulous Humours; for Fondness and Indulgence, which is  at all times, is of most dangerous consequence at such times as these: This absolutely ruins them to all Intents and Purposes, incourages them to be Passionate and Sullen, if they have not what they ask for, and renders them at length Obstinate and Headstrong, Intractable and Insolent: For 
* Nihil magisreddet Iracundos, quam Educatio mollis & blanda.  Nothing disposes Men more to extravagant Passion and Resentment, than the being humoured and cockered in their Infancy; and the greatest part of those Fretful, Exceptious, and Self-conceited Qualities, which render Conversation so difficult, and so full of Cavils, as we find it, are owing most certainly to a Failure in this part of Education. The Niceness and Tenderness they have been used with in their Infancy, and the Unreasonable Compliances with their Passions then, have absolutely broke their Tempers, and make them Whimsical and Jealous, Furious and domineering all their Life-long; They expect, because Mothers and Nurses have done it to my young Master and Miss, that all the World should submit to their Humours when they come to be Men and Women.  
But it is not sufficient to clear the Soil of Weeds and Briars, except you sow it with good Seed; and therefore at the same time you root out Ill Habits, Care must be taken to implant Good ones. The first and most important part whereof is, to Infuse into them, and take care they be throughly seasoned with a becoming Reverence, and awful Fear of God; learning them to tremble at his infinite and incomprehensible Majesty; to admire and adore the Perfection of his Holiness; to take his Name into their Mouths but very seldom; and when they do, to mention it with Gravity and great Respect; to discourse of his Power, his Wisdom, his Eternal Essence, his Will, his Word, and his Works, not indifferently, and upon every Occasion, but with such Seriousness and Submission, such Modesty and Humility; and at Seasons so proper, that all the World may perceive we have due Dread, and a constant Awe of that Being, which we take care to treat so very respectfully. Not to use themselves to dispute upon Religion, or call the Mysteries of it in into Question; but resign their Understandings to the Oracles of God, and be content to believe the Scriptures in such a Sense as the truly Catholic Church hath embraced, and commanded to be taught and received.  
In the Second Place, The Spirit of Children should be strengthened and confirmed by Ingenuity and Frankness of Temper, Openness and Easiness of Conversation, Candour and Integrity; and especially they should be fixed in the Fitness and the Necessity of Virtue, and so made resolute and zealous in Justice and Goodness, deaf and inflexible to every thing which is Vicious and Dishonourable. Thus the Youth must by degrees be brought to embrace and stick to Virtue, upon a true and solid Principle; for its Own sake, and real Excellence, and exact Congruity to the Dictates of uncorrupt Reason, and not be induced merely by the force of Fear, or Interest, or some other Consideration so slavish and mercenary, that it cannot deserve a Name so noble as Virtue. These Two Directions are principally for a Man's private use, and centre in his own proper Benefit.  
The Third regards other People, and hath a more immediate tendency to fit him for, and render him easy and agreeable in Company. And to this purpose you must use all means possible, for the Sweetening his Temper, teach him the Rules of Civility and Complaisance, and show him the Deference that ought to be paid to all Qualities; let him know how to make himself acceptable; how far it is fit to accommodate himself to other People's Humours, and submit to their Manner. Alcibiades' peculiar Excellence was said to lie in this obliging Easiness of Humour: And Aristippus was a Man of perfect Address; so far from Moroseness, or suffering the Study of Philosophy to sour him, that Horace takes notice of him as a Person so debonnaire and well-fashioned, that every thing he did became him, and he was never at a Loss. 

* Omnis Aristippum decuit colour, & status, & res, etc. Hor. Ep. xvii.  All Fortune sitted Aristippus well,  
Aiming at Greater, pleased with what befell. Creech.   
Let your young Charge be so much a Master of Conversation, as to be capable of keeping all manner of Company, but let him choose and frequent none but such as are virtuous and good. Let him abstain from Vice, not upon Compulsion only, out of Fear, or Ignorance, but out of Inclination and Choice. For 
† Multum interest, utrum peccare quis nolit, aut nesciat.  There is a great deal of difference between refusing to be Wicked, and not daring, or not knowing how to be so.  
The Fourth Virtue I desire to have early engrafted into the Minds of young People, is Modesty. 
Book II. Chap. 9  This will preserve them from that Forwardness which puts them upon Contradiction and Dispute, and attacking all they come hear. With some Persons it is never proper for us to engage at all; as those particularly, whose Quality is much above, or very much below our own; whether the Difference lie in Birth, or Riches, or Honour, or Parts, or Characters; These can never be a fit Match for us at any time. But indeed, Those that are so should not be encountered at All Times, nor upon All Occasions; not for a trifling Circumstance, an improper Expression; in short, What is of little Moment in itself, or little or no Concern to Us, will not justify our wrangling for it. To let nothing go without putting in an Exception to it, is ill-mannered, impertinent, and troublesome: By'r even in those things that are worth a Dispute, to be opinionative and peremptory, warm and violent, clamorous and loud, is as much a Breach of this Virtue; for Modesty teaches Men to be Meek and Gentle, Moderate and Condescending; it cannot be reconciled with a positive dogmatical way of Talk with an abounding in our own Sense, and a Resolution not to be convinced: But it yields the Point when it is no longer defensible; and, As it never disputes for Ostentation, or Disputing's sake, so it hath a just Deference to the Person, and his contrary Opinion; it preserves Decency and good Manners; allows all that can possibly be granted, and takes Care to soften the Opposition of that which Judgement will not suffer it to allow. But of This I have spoken in another Part of this Treatise already; and therefore shall dismiss the Subject at present, and with it Three parts of that Duty which Parents own to their Children.  
The Fourth and Last part of this Duty concerns the Affection they ought to bear towards their Children, 
Paternal Affection.  and the manner of treating and conversing with them when they are grown up, and the former Rules have had their desired Effect. Now we need not be told that the Affection between Parents and Children is natural and reciprocal. But it is stronger and more natural on the Parent's side; because This is the straight Course of Nature, carrying on the Life, and promoting the Succession of Mankind by the Descent of a right Line; whereas That of Children is only by way of Rebound and Reflection, and consequently cannot move so vigorously back again, as the former does forward. This indeed seems rather to be the Paying of a Debt, and the Sense and Return of Kindnesses received, than free, and natural, and pure Love. Besides, He that first does the Kindness, loves more than the Person who is passive, and receives it: And therefore the Parent, who is the first Mover, loves more vehemently than he is beloved again. Of this Assertion there are many Arguments to assure us. Every Thing is fond of Existence, and Existence proves itself by Exercise and Action. Now whoever does Good to another, does after some sort exist in that Person; and he who gives Being, manifestly lives and acts in That Being which is propagated by him. He that does a Kindness, does a noble and generous Thing; but he who receives it, hath not the same to allege. For the Virtue is the proper Quality of the First; but the Prosit and Advantage is peculiar to the Second. Now Virtue, we know, is rooted in the Nature of the Thing, and consequently is a more worthy and amiable, a more firm and permanent Quality, than that of Advantage can possibly be; for This is additional, occasional, and accidental only; it may quickly vanish into nothing, and take itself away. Again, We are fond of those Things that are obtained with Difficulty and Expense; That is dear to us which costs us dear, says the Provetb. But the Bringing Children into the World, the Cherishing, Maintaining, and Educating them, are infinitely more troublesome for Parents to bestow, than it is possible to be to Children to receive these Advantages.  
But this Love of Parents is capable of a very just Distinction; and tho' there be two different sorts of it, 
Of two kinds.  yet thus far they agree, that both are Natural. The First is purely and entirely so; little, if at all removed from that which we commonly call Instinct in Brutes; for they partake of it as well as we. This disposes Parents to a strange Tenderness for their Children, even at the Breast, and in the Cradle, and gives the first Infant-Cries and Complaints, a wondrous Power of moving Compassion, and piercing their very Souls. This likewise inspires an unaccountable Fondness and Delight in them; while as yet they are only capable of diverting us, and as mere Play-things, as those Wax and Plaister-Babies, which themselves are shortly to be entertained withal. Now This Affection is not strictly and properly Humane: Nor ought a Man enriched with an Endowment so noble as Reason, to suffer himself to be thus enslaved to Nature, after the manner of Beasts that know no better; but rather he should be led by these Motions of the Soul, and follow them freely, with all that Temper and Evenness, which Judgement and Consideration should inspire; For these should preside over Nature, and moderate its Affections, reducing all to the Measures and Guidance of Reason. But now the other sort is more agreeable to These, and consequently more Humane and worthy of us. This inclines us to love our Children more or less, as they are more or less attractive and deserving our Affection; to rise in This as these tender Plants of ours Blossom and Bud; and in proportion to the early Dawnings and brighter and stronger Shinings of Wit and good Sense, Virtue and Goodness in them. Some Parents there are, who seem wonderfully transported with the first Appearances of this kind, but lose the Satisfaction soon after, because the Charge of maintaining them at first, is no great Matter; but That of the Education, which must improve and finish them, and bring Credit to their Natural Gifts, is grievous and insupportable. This looks as if they grudged their Children the Honour and Happiness of growing wiser and better, and were sorry that they answer the End of their Creation; A Folly so absurd, so infinitely unreasonable, that we may justly call them brutish and inhuman Fathers who are guilty of it.  
Now in pursuance of this Second and properly Paternal Affection, Parents should by all means admit their Children, so soon as they are capable of it, to keep them Company: They should make them a competent Allowance fit for the Rank and Condition of them and their Family; should enter them into Business, and let them see the World; confer and consult with them about their own Private Affairs, communicate their Designs, their Opinions to them, not only as their Companions, but their Friends, and not keep them in Darkness, and Strangers to things which they have so great an Interest in; These should consent to, and even condescend to assist in their becoming and innocent Diversions, as Occasions shall offer, and so far as any of these things can conveniently be done; but still so as to preserve all due regard to their own Authority, and the Character of a Parent. For certainly such prudent Reserves may be used in this Case, as would in no degree diminish That; and yet abundantly condemn that stern and austere, that magisterial and imperious Countenance and Carriage, which never lets a Child hear one mild Word, nor see one pleasant Look. Men think it now below them to hear of the Relation, and disdain to be called Fathers; when yet God himself does not only condescend to, but delight in that Title, above all others whatsoever. They make it no part of their Endeavour or Concern, to win the Love of their Children, but prefer Fear, and Awe, and respectful Expressions of Distance, before all the Endearments and Testimonies of a dutiful and tender Affection. And, to contain them in these Sentiments the better, and to confirm them the more, they show their Power by holding their Hands, and denying the Supplies that are necessary and sit for them; make them (as the Term is) by't of the Bridle, and not only live like Beggars or Scoundrels at present, but threaten to keep them so, by leaving their Estates from them when they die. Now what Stuff is all this? how sottish and ridiculous a Farce do such People act? What is this but to distrust the Efficacy of that Authority which is real and natural, and of right belongs to the Relation they stand in, that so they may usurp a foreign and unjust Jurisdiction, and frame an artificial and imaginary Authority to themselves? An Authority which all serious and good Men do but pity or contemn; nay, which crosses and contradicts the very End of all this foolish Project; for they destroy that very Reverence they would maintain, and render themselves despicable in their own Families, a Jest and Scorn even to those Children. But, if it have not this Effect (which it too often hath) of drawing such Contempt upon them, yet is it a mighty Temptation to young People thus used, to take to Tricks, and little dishonest Shifts, and, without the least Remorse, to cheat and impose upon such Parents; Whose Business, indeed, should have been to regulate and inform their Minds, and show them the Equity and Reasonableness of their Duty; but by no means to have Recourse to such kind of Treatment as is much more agreeable to the Arbitrary Violence of a Tyrant, than the Affectionate Regards, and kind Care of a Father. What says the wise Comedian to this purpose? 

* 
Errat longè meâ quidem Sententiâ,  
Qui imperium credit esse gravius aut stabilius  
Vi quod fit, quam illud quod amicitiâ adjungitur.   Truly in my Mind that Man thinks much amiss,  
Who believes that Government purely by Force  
Should have more Authority, and a better Foundation,  
Than when 'tis accompanied with Tenderness and Respect.   
As to the final Disposal of the Estate; The best and wisest way (all notable and extraordinary Accidents excepted) will be, to take our Measures from the Laws and Customs of the Country where we dwell: For it ought to be presumed, that the Laws are wiser than We; and that the Makers of them considered things more maturely than private Men are likely to do. And, if any Inconvenience should afterwards happen from such a Distribution, it will be much more excusable to Posterity, that we have erred in going by the common Road, than if it had been by any particular Whimsy of our own. But sure there cannot be a greater abuse of the Trust reposed in us, and the Liberty we have to dispose of our Fortunes as we please, than to let little foolish Fancies, and frivolous Quarrels, or private Resentments, weigh down the Obligations of a higher Nature, and either indite, or alter Articles in our Will. And yet how many Instances do we see of Men, who suffer themselves to be transported by a most unreasonable Partiality, and are wrought upon either by some little officious Diligence, or the Presence of one Child when the rest are Absent, to make a mighty Difference, where Blood and Duty have never made any at all; who play with their Wills as if it were a jesting-matter, and gratify or chastise such Actions, as do not deserve such an Animadversion; for it ought to be something much more than common, which excludes those who have a just Pretence to share in what we leave, or that disposes us to a Division so unequal, as should very much affect the Fortunes of our Children, in prejudice to one another, and leave no Mark whereby to know that they were Brothers and Sifters. And if the Acting thus be a Fault, the Threatening at a distance, or promising such an Inequality is highly Wicked and Foolish, and of most pernicious Influence in the Family: And therefore I say still, in despite of any supportable Defects in our Children, the Flatteries and Officiousness of some, or the pardonable Provocations of others; let us sit down and consider that This, as it is one of the last, so it is one of the most important and serious Actions of our Lives; and therefore Reason, and Law, and common Usage ought to take place in it. For these are the wisest Guides we can follow, and, in conforming to Them, we take the surest Gourse to answer the Obligations of our Character, to vindicate our Proceed to the World, and to quiet and satisfy our own Consciences.  
We are now come to that other general Division of this Chapter, The Duty of Children toward their Parents; 
Duty of Children.  than which there is not any more plainly and visibly writ in the Book of Nature, or more expressly and positively enjoined by Religion: A Duty which ought to be paid them, not as mere and common Men, but as a sort of Demigods, earthly and visible Deities in this Mortal Flesh. Upon this Account Philo the Jew tells us, that the Fifth Commandment was written half of it in the First, and the other half in the Second Table of the Decalogue: Because it in part regards the Duty we own to God, and in part That which we own to our Neighbour. This is likewise so self-evident and acknowledged a Duty, so strictly and indispensably required at our Hands, that No other Duty, no other Affection can supersede it; even tho' our Affection to other Persons may, and is allowed to be more intimate and tender. For put the Case, that a Man hath a Father and a Son both involved in the same Distress, and that he have it in his Power to relieve but one of them, it hath been the Opinion of very wise Men, that he is bound to assist his Father, notwithstanding his Affection to the Son, (according to what hath been lately urged upon that Occasion,) be the greater and stronger. The Reason of which Resolution seems to be, That the Son's Debt to the Father is of longer standing; and the Obligation bore Date, and was in Force before that to his own Son; and that therefore it is in this, as in other Cases of like Nature, where no antecedent Tie can be cancelled by any Engagement or Debt contracted afterwards.  
Now this Duty principally consists in Five Particulars; All of which are comprehended under that significant Expression of Honouring our Father and Mother.  
The First is Reverence; by which we are to understand, not only those External Respects of the Looks, or Gestures, or Behaviour, but the Inward and Respectful Sense of the Mind; and This indeed chief as the Source and Foundation of the other. Now This consists in a high Esteem, and prosound Veneration for them, looking upon them as the Authors and Original of our Being, and all the Comforts of it. The Instruments and Immediate Causes which the Universal Father of all things was pleased to make choice of, for the bringing us out of Nothing, and making us what we are; and therefore in that Quality bearing a very great Resemblance to God himself.  
The Second is Obedience; Which, provided the Matter of the Command be lawful, cannot be dispensed with, upon the Pretence of any Rigour or Hardship that it is encumbered with. And thus we find the Rechabites commended by God himself, for complying with the Severities of Life, 
Jer. xxxv.  imposed upon Them, and their Posterity, by Jonadab their Ancestor.  
The Third is, Succouring them in all their Exigencies and Distresses; maintaining and cherishing them in their Wants and Weaknesses; Old Age and Sickness, Infirmities and Poverty must be so far from Provoking our Scorn and Contempt, that they are but so many louder Calls, and more engaging Ties to Love and Duty, to Assistance and Respect; aiding and advising them in their Business, and exerting our utmost Power to do them Service. Of This we have some wonderful Examples in the other Parts of Nature; and Brutes themselves have set us a noble and almost inimitable Pattern; particularly the Stork, which St. Basil so elegantly extols upon this account: For the young Storks are said to nourish and feed the old ones; to cover them with their Feathers when the Shedding of their own exposes them to the Injuries of Cold and Weather; to fly in couples, and join Wings to carry them on their Backs. Nature, it seems, inspiring them with this Artificial Contrivance of showing this Piety and Affection. This Example is so lively, so very moving, that the Duty of Parents to their Children hath been expressed in some Translations by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, acting the Part of a Stork. And the Hebrews in cohsideration of this eminent Quality, call this Bird Chasida, which signifies Kind, Charitable, Good-natured. Some very remarkable Instances of this kind among Men, we read in ancient History. Timon, Son to the Great Miltiades, when his Father was dead in Prison, and so poor that he had not wherewith to bury him, (tho' some say it was for the Payment of his Debts, for failure whereof his Corpse was arrested, and kept aboveground) sold himself, and sacrificed his Liberty, for a Sum of Money, to be expended in defraying the Charges of the Funeral. This Man did not contribute to his Father's Necessities out of his own Abundance, or his actual Possessions, but parted with his Freedom; a Juying dearer to him and esteemed more valuable, than either Fortune, or Life it self for his Father's Sake. He did not relieve him alive and, in distress; but when he was dead, no longer his Father, no longer a Man. What a Brave, what an Heroic Act was this? What may we reasonably imagine, so gallant a Son would have done, what indeed would he not have done for a living and a necessitous Father, One that had asked, or that had needed his Assistance? This is a generous and a glorious Instance of the Duty now under Consideration. We are likewise told of Two Examples in the weaker Sex, Women who suckled, the One her Father, and the Other her Mother, when they were Prisoners under Sentence of Condemnation, and to be famished to Death; which is said to have been heretofore a Punishment very commonly inflicted in Capital Cases. It looks a little Unnatural for a Mother to Subsist upon her Daughter's Milk; This is turning the Stream back again up to the Fountainhead; but sure it deserves to be considered by the Ladies of Our Age; how very Natural, indeed how Fundamental and Primitive a Law of Nature it is, for Mothers to suckle, and give that Sustenance, which Nature hath provided on purpose to their own Children.  
The Fourth Duty is, To be governed and directed by them in all Matters of Moment; to attempt no considerable Thing without taking their Advice, and ask their Consent, and being confirmed in our Intentions and Designs, by the Parent's Approbation and good Liking. This is a general Rule, extending to all the important Affairs of Humane Life; All that are fit to trouble and consult them about; but it hath a special Regard to the Disposing of themselves in Marriage, which is of all others the most Weighty and Serious; and such as Parents have a particular right to be well informed of, and perfectly satisfied in.  
The Fifth is, Covering their Vices and Imperfections; submitting to their Humours and Passions; their Severity and hard Usage; and bearing all their most unreasonable Peevishness, and angry Rebukes with Patience and Temper. Of This we have a notable Instance in Manlius Pomponius. The Tribune had accused the Father of this Manlius to the People, of several grievous Crimes; among the rest of horrible Barbarity to his Son; and among other Indignities, that he forced him to dig and drive the Plough. This Son went to this Tribune's House; found him in Bed; and, putting a Knife to his Throat, made him swear that he would withdraw the Indictment, and prosecute his Father 10 farther; declaring that he had rather submit to the most Slavish Drudgery his Father could impose upon him, and toil at it all the Days of his Life, than see him prosecuted and exposed for any rigorous Carriage to him.  
These Five Duties, at first Sight, may perhaps seem too Rigid, but there is no Child, who would not allow them to be very reasonable and becoming him to pay, did he but give himself the Trouble of considering seriously, how much he hath stood his Parents in. What Pain and Anxiety, what Tender Care and Concern, what Trouble and Expense, and what a World of Affection went to the bringing of him up. But This in Truth is a Computation which no Man is capable of making justly, till he come to have Children of his own; Then Matters will appear to him quite otherwise, than now they do. And therefore, as the Philosopher, who was found riding upon a Hobby-Horse with his little Boy, desired that his Friend would forbear to expose that Levity of his, till he was a Father himself: So in the Case before us, whoever shall imagine, that the Duty to Parents is carried beyond Equity and Reason, or Their Merits to their Children overrated here, we must beg that he will be content to suspend his Final Determination of this Matter, till that Time come, which alone can make him a competent Judge of it.   

CHAP. XV. Duties of Masters and Servants  
THere remains now only the Third and Last Part of Private and Domestic Justice to be spoken to, which consists of the mutual Duties of that lowest Relation, between Masters and Servants.  
Now, in Order to a right Understanding of this Matter, we must remember, that there are different Sorts of Servants, and more especially these Three that follow. The First are, what we call Slaves, in which all the World abounded heretofore, and the greatest Part of it does so still; for except one Quarter of Europe, they are still reckoned as part of their Master's Riches and Estate: And accordingly, they have no Right in any Thing, not so much as in their Goods, their Children, or their own Bodies; but their Patron hath an absolute Power, to buy and sell them, to give them, or barter them away; and to deal by them in as Arbitrary and Uncontrolled a Manner, as We do with our Horses, or , or any Beasts of Service. Of these we have delivered our Opinion at large in the first Book. The Next are, 
Book I. Chap. 43.  what we commonly call Servants or Attendants; These are Freemen, and have a Right Inviolable in their own Persons and Possessions; nay, they have such an indefeasible Liberty, that it cannot be taken away from them, by any Voluntary Compact of their own, or any other Means used in Prejudice of it. But they are bound to Pay Honour and Respect, Obedience and Service, for so long a Time, and upon such Conditions, as have been covenanted for; and their Masters accordingly have a Power of commanding, correcting, and punishing them, within the Bounds of Moderation and Discretion. The Third Sort are, what we may term Hirelings, or Workmen; which are still less in Subjection than the Former: For they are not obliged to Attendance, nor Obedience in general; but only to the Performance of that Particular Work, we take them for; and so they only make an Exchange of their Labour and Industry, for so much of our Money; for those that Hire them, have no Authority either to correct them for doing amiss, or to command them at large in any other Thing.  
Now, The Duty of Masters towards their Servants, whether in the Quality of Slaves, or of Attendants, is; Not to use them Barbarously, but always to remember, that These too are Men; of the very same Species withthemselves, made up of the same Materials, cast in the same Mould; descended from the same Ancestors. That it is not Nature, which hath put any Difference, but only Fortune; and Fortune is a very Humorsom and changeable Thing, for the seems to make herself great Diversion with her Wheel; and to triumph in turning those that were at the Bottom up to the Top, and tumbling those that sat at the Top, down to the Bottom. Consequently, that the Distinction is not so great, as they are willing to imagine; nor what can bear them out in keeping their Fellows at so vast a distance; and expecting such wonderful Submissions from them. For 
* Sunt homines, contubernales, humiles amici, conservi, aequè F●rtunae subjecti.  these, says Seneca, are Men, and our poor Friends, and humble Companions, but withal our Fellow-Servants, for we are all equally at the Disposal of the same Providence. Our Servants then should be treated with Courtesy and Condescension; not with proud Disdain, and impious Contempt; we should rather make it our Business, that they may love us, than that they may be afraid of us: But to deal Roughly, and use them Hardly, discovers great Inhumanity and Cruelty of Disposition; and plainly declares, that we should use all Mankind just so, if we had them as much at our Mercy; and that it is not want of Will, but want of Power, which hinders us from the Execution of our Barbarous Inclinations. We are also obliged to have Regard to their Health, to be Kind and Tender of them in Sickness, and sad Accidents; to Provide for their Instruction; and take special Care, that they be taught their Duty; especially such Things as are Necessary to be known for the Good of their Souls, and which their everlasting Salvation may be promoted by.  
The Duty of Servants is to Honour and fear their Masters, with regard to this Relation between them; whatsoever they may be, or how little soever they may deserve such Deference in any other respects. To obey them Faithfully and Diligently; to be true to their Trust; to serve, not only in Appearance, and while the Master's Eye is upon them; but Sincerely, Seriously, and Cordially; out of a Principle of Conscience, and without the least mixture of Hypocrisy and Dissimulation. To sow no Discord, or foment Jealousies and Discontents in the Family; to keep Secrets; not to turn Whisperers or Hearkeners, or busy Bodies; not divulging what is done at Home to the Prejudice of their Master; but advancing his Interest, and vindicating his Reputation; as well as assisting and defending his Person, so far as lies in their Power. And indeed there are several very Noble, and Generous, and Brave Instances upon Record of eminent Things done by Servants for their Masters; nay, some of them have gone so far, as to hazard their own, for the saving their Master's Life, or the doing Right to their Honour.   

CHAP. XVI. Duty of Princes and Subjects.  
COncerning Princes and their Dignity, the Different Measures of their Power, the Humours to which this Elevation disposes them, the Miseries and Inconveniences of so important a Trust, we have had Occasion to speak already, in the Forty Sixth Chapter of the First Book; as we likewise have done very largely in the Second and Third of this Book; concerning their Duty, and how they ought to Govern: But, all this notwithstanding, we will just touch upon the main Strokes, and general Heads, of their Business, in this Place.  
A Sovereign Prince is in a middle Station, between God and his People; and therefore a Debtor he is to each of them; As such, he should constantly Remember, that he is the living Image and Representation, the Viceroy and Commissioner General of the Great, the Almighty God; who is likewise his Prince and his Master; that with regard to his People, he is a Shining Light, a Mirror in continual Reflection, a Spectacle set up on high, that draws all Eyes to it; A Spring, of whose Waters all his Subjects hope to drink; a Spur and mighty Incitement to Virtue; and one that never can do any Good, but the Benefit of it is diffused far and wide, and the remembrance of it faithfully treasured up, and put to Account. This in short is his Character, and these the Conditions of his Station, and from hence it is very easy to infer, what must needs be required of him to answer and fill up the several Parts of this Description.  
It is evident then, first of all, that he is in an especial Manner obliged to Devotion, Religion, Piety and the Fear of God; and That, not only with regard to himself, considered abstractedly, and for the satisfying his own Conscience, as he is a Man; but moreover with respect to his Government, in his Politic Capacity, and as a Prince. Now, the Piety, which concerns us to observe in this Place, is consequently not so much the Personal, as the Public and Princely Acts of it; The Care and Regard he ought to have for the Preservation and Security of the Established Religion; making seasonable Provision for its Protection and Defence by wholesome and wise Laws; ordering and inflicting severe Penalties, upon the Poisoners and Disturbers of it, and taking all possible Care, that neither the Doctrines and Mysteries of it be reviled and blasphemed, nor the Rights of it violated, nor the Exercise of it innovated and confounded by Fickle and Factious Men. This is a Care, that will conduce mightily to his Honour, and the Security of his own Person and Government: For Men are naturally disposed to stand in greater Awe of, and pay a more willing Obedience to a Governor, who (they are continued) does truly fear God. They are more Fearful and Cautious in forming any Attempts against such a one, because the Natural Notions of a Superintending Providence, represent him to Mankind, as one under the more special and immediate Care of God. 
* Una custodia Pietas. Pium virum nec malus Genius nec Fatum devincit. Deus enim eripit eum ab omni malo.  Piety (says an old Author) is one strong Guard. All the Malice of the Evil Genius, and all the Strength of Fate are not able to take any hold on the Pious Man; For his God delivers him from all Evil. Nor is this a Safeguard to his Person only, but to his Country and Government also; for all the Philosophers and wise Men are unanimously agreed, that Religion is the Strongest Tie, the closest and most binding Cement of Human Society, and mutual Commerce.  
The Prince is also bound to pay a strict and inviolable Obedience to the Laws of God; and to enforce the same Obedience and Religious Observance upon other People: For these Laws are Indispensable and Eternal; and he, who endeavours the reversing, or (which as to the Effect is almost the same thing) the bringing them into public Neglect and Contempt, is not only a Tyrant, but a Monster.  
As to the People under his Jurisdiction; he is obliged, first of all faithfully and punctually to keep his Promises, and Covenants, and Treaties, whether these Engagements were entered into with his own Subjects as Parties; or whether with any other, that have an Interest in them. This is a Branch of Natural and Universal Equity; even God himself, who is above all Law but that of his own most Holy and Divine Will, declares himself bound by, and always true to his Promises. Hath he said it, and shall be not do it? and God is not a Man that he should lie, or the Sun of Man that be should repent: Behold I the Lord have said it, I will certainly bring it to pass. These are the Characters given us of Himself, by the God that cannot lie, in Holy Scripture. And it would ill become his Image upon Earth, to degenerate from that Great Pattern above; and be changed into the Resemblance of Him, who is the Father of Lies. But, besides the Obligations to Truth in this Respect, A Prince is the Security, the formal Guarantee for the Laws and mutual Agreements between his Subjects; and he is to see that they proceed in all their private Transactions, according to Justice and Truth. His Engagement therefore to keep his Word is superior and more binding, than that of any other Man can possibly be; for there is not any Quality or Crime possible for a Prince to be guilty of, so shameful and detestable, as the violating his Word, and his Oath. Upon which Account it hath been observed, that when ever a Prince goes counter to his Promise, we are to suppose him controlled and overpowerd by some extraordinary Accident or Exigence: For to imagine him false to his Engagements, without invincible Necessity, were to entertain a Presumption inconsistent with the Reverence due to so high a Character. Nor is he bound by his own Promises and Covenants only; but likewise by those of his Predecessors; if he succeeded into their Right by Inheritance; or any other Way that declared him satisfied to take the Crown as he found it; or if they be such as manifestly contribute to the Public Safety and Advantage. In short, by the same Reason, and upon the same Accounts, he may discharge himself of all the unreasonable and prejudicial Promises, with Regard to his People; that private Persons think sufficient to disengage Them from, when They stand bound to their Prince.  
Again, Princes, even the most Absolute of them All, aught to consider, that although the Law, (the Civil and Human Law I mean) be their own Handiwork, and proper Sanction, changed and abrogated at Pleasure, (for this Legislative Power is the peculiar Right and distinguishing Character of Sovereignty,) and so, in that respect, they are above the Law, as the Creator is above his Creature; yet so long as any Law stands unrepealed, and in full Force, they are bound in all Equity and good Conscience, to make it the Rule and Standard of their Actions and Determinations: And it would be an infinite Blemish and Dishonour to themselves, as well as of ill Example and pernicious Consequence to others, if they should do otherwise: For This were to refuse to stand to their own Act and Deed; a living in perfect Contradiction, and giving the Lie to themselves. The Great Augustus had like to have died with Remorse, for having once upon Occasion done in his own Person, a thing contrary to Law; Agesilaus, and Seleucus have left us very memorable Examples of this kind, and paid very dear for them.  
Thirdly, The Prince is a Debtor to his People, for the regular Administration of Justice; and aught upon all Occasions to make This the Measure of his Power, and not to stretch beyond the Line. This indeed is the Peculiar Excellence of a Prince; a truly Royal and distinguishing Virtue. Upon which Account, it was both smartly and pertinently replied by an old Woman to King Philip; upon his putting her off, upon Pretence that he was not at Leisure to do her Right; That if he could not spare time to do the Duty of his Office, he ought to lay it down, and be a King no longer. But Demetrius did not come off so easily upon the like Provocation: For upon his throwing several of their Petitions into the River, without ever returning any Answer to them, or redressing the Grievances they complained of, they thought themselves at Liberty to take an other Course, and dethroned that King, who had expressed such an haughty Disregard, to his People, and their Addresses.  
Once more. He ought to love and to cherish, to take a very tender Care of his Subjects; and imitate the King of Kings, in watching over them for their Good: His Affection and his Deportment ought to be That of a Husband to the Wife of his Bosom: His Bowels and provident Concern, Those of a Father to his Children; His Vigilance, That of a Shepherd over his Flock, constantly keeping in his Eye the Advantage and Security of his People, and making Their Ease, and Quiet, and Welfare, the Aim and End of all his Undertake. The Happiness of the Country is the Satisfaction and Joy of a good King; the Strength, the Wealth, the Honour, the Virtue of his People are his chief Desire and Delight. That Prince, who looks no farther than himself and his own Interest, abuses and imposes upon himself: For he is none of his own, nor is the State for Him, but He for the State. He is indeed the Master and the Governor of it; but not to the Intent that he should domineer and Tyrannize over it, but that, by the Advantage of so great a Power, he may be enabled to support and maintain it. 
* Cui non Civium servitus tradita, sed tutela.  The People are committed to him, not as an absolute Possession, and to make them Slaves; but as a Trust, to be their Guardian; and to use them like so many Minors under his Direction; to cherish, and breed, and watch over them. That by virtue of his Vigilant Care, his Subjects may sleep securely; that in his Toil and Fatigues they may find Ease and Leisure; that his Industry may preserve their Properties and Pleasures, and that every Man under his Jurisdiction may know and feel experimentally, that he is as much for their Advantage as he is above them in Dignity and Power.  
Now, In Order to the Being so indeed, and the Effectual discharge of this important Trust, it will be Necessary for him to govern himself by the Rules, which have been laid down at large in the Second and Third Chapter of this Book. That is, To be sufficiently provided, with a wise Counsel, a substantial Exchequer, and a convenient Strength of Forces at Home; and with significant Alliances and Friends abroad. To manage this Provision to the best Advantage; and so to act and Rule, both in Peace and War, that he may reign in the Hearts of his People, and be both loved and feared by them at the same time.  
To be short, and say all in a Word; The Character of a truly good King is compounded of these following Qualifications. He must fear and reverence his Master, Almighty God, above all; he must be prudent and considerate in his Designs; Vigorous and Bold in the Execution of them; Firm in his Resolutions; True to his Word; Wise and Discerning in his Counsel; tender of his Subjects; assisting to his Friends; formidable to his Enemies; compassionate to those in Distress; Courteous and Kind to Good Men; a Terror to the Wicked; and Just to all.  
The Duty of Subjects towards their Prince, consists of Three Particulars. The First, is Honour and Reverence; And This is due to Princes, in regard they are the Image and Similitude of the most High God; established and ordained by him; and therefore Those, who disparage and detract from them, that revile or speak ill of them, and endeavour to sow Discords and discontented Thoughts, by virulent Reproaches, or wicked Scandals, are very highly to be blamed. These are indeed the true Descendants, of Profane and Undutiful Ham; who either invent and contrive, or at least expose and deride their Father's Shame. The Second is, Obedience; which is a Word of very extensive signification, and includes serving them in the Wars, paying the Taxes and Tributes imposed by Their Authority, and the like. The Third is, Hearty Desiring their Happiness and Prosperity, and recommending Them, and Their Undertake to the Blessing and Protection of Almighty God, in constant and servant Prayers for them.  
But a very considerable Doubt arises upon this Occasion; which is, Whether all these Duties are to be paid to all Princes without any Distinction; whether wicked Princes, whether Tyrants have a Right to them? This Controversy cannot be decided by any single positive Answer; but to come to a true Resolution of the Point, we must state the Case, and distinguish the Circumstances cautiously: For a Prince may be Tyrannical either at the very Entrance into his Power, or in the Exercise of it afterwards; that is, He may usurp his Authority, or he may abuse that Rightful one which he is fairly possessed of. If his Entrance upon the Government be Tyrannical; that is, If he invade without any just Pretention, be he otherwise a Good or a Bad Governor, it matters not much; It hath been the general Sense of Wise Men, that he ought to be withstood by Methods of Justice and legal Redress, if there be any opportunity of obtaining Redress that way; but if there be not, then by open Force. And indeed I take it, that where we meet with the Word Tyrant in old Authors, who use it in an ill Sense, it ought constantly to be thus understood. And Cicero says, that among the Ancient Greeks, there were particular Honours and Rewards assigned to those who distinguished themselves by such Deliverances of their Country from a lawless Yoke. Nor can This in any good propriety of Speech be called Resisting one's Prince, since it supposes him never to have been so, either in Right or in Fact; but only One who put himself upon the People, without ever being received, or recognised as such.  
The Case is different, if this Tyranny be charged upon the Exercise and Administration of his Power only; That is, If he be duly possessed of his Power, but use it unduly; if he be Cruel, or Wicked, which in the modern Language is, Tyrannical and Arbitrary. And here again we must be beholding to another Distinction, to help us to a right Understanding of the Case: For a Prince may be Tyrannical in this Sense of the Word, three several ways; and a different sort of Behaviour is required from Subjects, with regard to each of them.  
First he may be so, by violating the Laws of God and Nature, acting contrary to the established Religion of his Country, the express Commands of God, or the Native Liberty of Men's Consciences. In this Case we must by no means obey him, according to the Maxims laid down in Holy Scripture, that We ought to obey God rather than Men; and to fear Him who hath power over the whole Man, more than Him who hath power over one part of the Man only, and that the less, and more inconsiderable part of him too. But then, if we can have no Relief by Law or Justice, we must not have Recourse to Violence; which is the contrary Extreme to a sinful Compliance; but keep the middle Way, which is to flee or to suffer.  
The Second Case is not quite so bad as the former, because it offers no Violence to the Consciences of Men, but to their Bodies and Estates only, by abusing his Subjects, resusing to do them Justice, taking away the Liberty of their Persons, and the Property of their Estates. And here the three Duties mentioned before, Honour and Obedience, good Wishes and Prayers ought still to be paid, with Patience and Submission, and a Sense and Acknowledgement of the Wrath of God let lose upon them in this Scourge of an Unjust Prince: For there are Three Considerations fit to be attended to upon such Occasions. One is, That all Power is of God, and he that resisteth the Power, resisteth the Ordinance of God. 
* Principi summum Rerum judicium Dii dederunt: Subditis obsequii gloria relicta est. Bonos Principes voto expetere, qualescunque tolerare.  The Gods, (says a very wise and judicious Heathen) have committed the Supreme Judgement, and last Determination of Humane Affairs to the Prince: The Glory of Obedience is the Subject's Portion; we must therefore wish and pray that we may have none but Good Princes; but when we have them, we must endure them whether they be Good or Bad. The Ground and formal Reason of our Obedience does not lie in the Consideration of their Personal Virtues, or just and commendable Administration, but in their Character, and Superiority over us. There is a vast difference between True and Good; and he who is truly our Governor, tho' he be not a good Governor, is to be regarded as the Laws themselves are; which bind us, not upon the Account of their Justice or Convenience, but purely upon the Account of their being Laws, and having the Sanction that is requisite to give them Authority. A Second Reflection upon this Occasion should be. That God permits Hypocrites, and sets up wicked Men to bear Rule for the Sins of a People, and in the Day of his fierce Anger. He makes a barbarous unjust Prince the Instrument of his Vengeance; and therefore This must be born with the same Temper of Mind with which we submit to other Calamities made use of by God for that Purpose: 
† Quomodo Sterilitatem, aut nimios Imbres, & caetera Naturae mala, sic Luxum & Avaritiam Dominantium tolerare.  Like a Blast, or a Barren Year, Inundations and excessive Rains, or other Evils in the Course of Nature, so should the Avarice and Luxury of Princes be endured by those they oppress, says Tacitus. Instances of this kind we have in Saul, and Nabuchadnezzar, and several of the Roman Emperors before Constantine's Time; and some others, as wicked Tyrants as was possible for them to be, and yet Good Men paid them these Three Duties notwithstanding, and were commanded so to do by the Prophets and Preachers of those Times; in Agreement to our Great Master, the Oracle of Truth itself, who directs his Disciples to obey those that sat in Moses' Chair; tho' in the same Breath he charges those very Governors with Wickedness and Cruelty, with binding heavy Burdens, 
Matt. xxiii  and laying upon Men's Shoulders more than could be born.  
The Third Case concerns the State in general, when the very Fundamentals of Government are endeavoured to be torn up, or overturned; when he goes about to change, or to take away the Constitution; as if, for Instance, a Prince would make that which is Elective, Hereditary; or from an Aristocracy, or Democracy, or any other such mixed Government, would engross all to himself, and make it an Absolute Monarchy; or in any other Case like or equivalent to these, shall attempt to alter the State from what it was formerly, and aught to continue; In this Case Men may and aught to withstand him, and to hinder any such Attempts from taking place upon them, and That, either by Methods of Legal Justice, or otherwise: For a Prince is not the Master and Disposer of the Constitution, but the Guardian and Conservator of it. But then, This must be done regularly too; for the setting such Matters right does not belong to all the Subjects indifferently; but to those who are the trusties of the State, or have the Principal Interest in it. Who these are, the Constitutions of the respective Countries must determine: In Elective Kingdoms, the Electors; in others, the Princes of the Blood; In Republics, and those Places which have Fundamental Laws, the States-General assembled: And This I conceive to be the only Case which can justify Subjects in resisting a Tyrant in this Second Sense of the Word, with regard to the Exercise of his Power, and the Pretence of Maladministration. What I have hitherto delivered upon this last Case is meant of Subjects; that is, of Those who are not permitted in any Circumstances, or upon any Provocation to attempt any thing against their Sovereign; of Them, I say, who are by the Laws declared guilty of a Capital Crime, if they shall but Counsel, or compass, or so much as imagine the Death of their King. And if so much be allowable to Men under these Obligations and Penalties, then, no doubt, it is lawful, nay, it is highly commendable and a glorious Action in a Stranger, or Foreign Prince, to take up Arms, for the Defence and Revenge of a whole Nation, labouring under unjust Oppression: To redress their Wrongs, and deliver them from the heavy Yoke of Tyranny; as we find Hercules in his Time, and afterwards Dion and Timoleon, and not long since Tamerlane Prince of the Tartars, who defeated Bajazet the Turkish Emperor at the Siege of Constantinople.  
Such is the State of a Subject's Duty to his Prince, during his Life-time; but when Princes are dead, it is but an Act of Justice to examine into their Actions. It is indeed a Customary thing so to do, and a very reasonable and useful Custom no doubt it is. The Nations that observe it, find mighty Benefit from this Practice; and all good Princes will have reason to encourage and desire it; because thus that common Complaint would be quite taken away, that all Princes are treated alike, and that there is no Distinction observed in our Respects to the Memory of the Good and the Bad. Kings are the Law's Fellows, if they be not their Masters: And the Revenge, which Justice will not permit to be taken upon their Persons, it is but sitting that it should take upon their Reputation, and the Estates of their Successors. We own Subjection and Obedience to all Kings alike; because This is an Obligation annexed to their Offices, and payable purely upon that Consideration; but we cannot be accountable for our Affection and Esteem to all alike, because These will depend upon their Qualities, and are due only to their Merits and Virtue. Let us then resolve patiently to endure even the worst and most unworthy, while we have them; let us endeavour to cover and conceal the Vices of the Living, for this is what Respect to their Authority requires from us; and besides, the Weight and Difficulty of their Charge, and the Preservation of Public Peace and Order, challenge our joint Endeavours, and stand in need of the utmost we can possibly do to support them. But when they are withdrawn, and gone off the Stage, it would be hard to deny us a just Liberty of expressing our real Thoughts of them, without all that Reserve. Nay it is an honest and a commendable Pattern which these Proceed set to Posterity; who cannot but look upon it as a singular Commendation of our Obedience and Respect, that we were content to pay these to a Master, whose Imperfections we were very well acquainted with. Those Writers, who upon the Account of Personal Interest, or Obligations, espouse the Memory of a wicked Prince, and set it off to the World; do an Act of Private Justice at the Expense of the Public: For to serve, or show themselves grateful, they defraud Mankind of the Truth. This Reflection were an admirable Lesson for a Successor, if it could be well observed; and a powerful Check it might be to the Exorbitancies of Power, to think with one's self, that the Time will thortly come, when the World will make us as free with his Character, as they do at present with his Predecessor's.   

CHAP. XVII. Duty of Magistrates.  
THose few Wise and Good Men, who are Members of the Commonwealth, would doubtless be better pleased to retire into themselves, and live at Ease; full of that sweet Content, which excellent and intelligent Persons know how to give themselves, in the Contemplation of the Beauties of Nature, and the works of Providence, than to sacrifice all this satisfaction to Business and a public Post; were it not, that they hope to do some good, in being serviceable to their Country by their own Endeavours, and in preventing the whole Administration of Affairs from falling into ill, or unskilful hands. This may and aught to prevail with Persons of this Character, to consent to the trouble of being Magistrates: But to cabal and make Parties, and court Employments of Trust with Eagerness and Passion; especially such as are judicial, is a very base and scandalous Practice; condemned as such by all good Laws, even those of Pagan Republics, (as the Julian Law among the Romans abundantly testisies,) unbecoming a Man of Honour; and the shrewdest sign that can be, that the Person is unfit for the Trust he seeks so vehemently. To buy public Offices is still more infamous and abominable; the most sordid, the most villainous way of Trading in the World: For it is plain, he that buys in the Piece, must make himself whole by selling out again in Parcels. Which was a good Reason for the Emperor Severus, when he was declaring against a Fault of this nature, to say, That it was very hard to condemn a Man for making Money of that which he had given Moncy for before.  
Just for all the World, as a Man dresses, and sets his Person in order and form, putting on his best Face before he goes abroad, that he may make a Figure; and appear well in Company; so is it sit that a Ma● should learn to govern his own Passions, and bring his Mind to good Habits, before he presume to meddle with public Business, or take upon him the Charge of governing other People. No Man is so weak, to enter the Lasts with an unmanaged Horse, or to hazard his Person with such a one in any Service of Consequence and Danger; but trains and teaches him first, breeds him to his hand, and uses him to the Exercise he is designed for: And is there not the same reason that this wild and restiff part of our Soul should be tamed and accustomed to bear the Bit? Should be perfectly instructed in those Laws and Measures which are to be the Rules of our Actions, and upon which, the good or ill Conduct of our Lives will depend? Is it not reasonable, I say, That a Man should be Master of his own private Behaviour, and expert in making the best of every Accident and Occasion, before he venture out upon the public Stage; and either give Laws to others, or correct them for the neglect of those they have already? And yet, (as Socrates observed very truly) the manner of the World is quite otherwise: For, though no body undertakes to Exercise a Trade, to which he hath not been Educated, and served a long Apprenticeship; and how Mean or Mechanical soever the Calling be, several Years are bestowed upon the Learning of it; Yet in the case of public Administrations which is of all other Professions the most intricate and difficult, (so absurd, so wretchedly careless are we) that every body is admitted, every body thinks himself abundantly qualified to undertake them. These Commissions are made Compliments and things of Course, without any Consideration of Men's Abilities; or regarding at all, whether they know any thing of the matter; as if a Man's Quality, or the having an Estate in his Country, could inform his Understanding, or secure his Integrity, or render him capable of discerning between Right and Wrong, and a competent Judge of his Poorer, (but perhaps much honester and wiser) Neighbours.  
Magistrates have a mixed Quality, and are placed in a middle Station, between sovereign Princes and private Subjects. These Subalterns therefore have a double Task incumbent upon them, and must learn both how to Command, and how to Obey. To obey the Princes, who trust and employ them, to submit to, and truckle under the Paramount Authority of their Superior Officers; to pay Respect to their Equals; to Command those under their Jurisdiction; to Protect and Defend the Poor, and those that are unable to Contend for their own; to stand in the Gap, and oppose the powerful Oppressor; and to distribute Right and Justice to all Sorts and Conditions of Men whatsoever. And, if this be the Business of a Magistrate, well might it grow into a Proverb, that the Office discovers the Man, since no mean Abilities, no common Address, can suffice for the sustaining so many Characters at once, and to Act each part so well, as to merit a general Approbation and Applause.  
As to the Sovereign, by whose Commission the Magistrate's Act, his Commands must be the Rule of their Behaviour. Some of his Orders they ought to Execute speedily, some again they must by no means comply with; or be in any degree instrumental in the Execution of them; and in others the most adviseable Course will be, to suspend their Obedience for some convenient time.  
In all Commissions, which leave the Cognisance of the Matter to the Magistrate, such as those of Oyer and Terminer; and in all others, where there is this Clause, (so far as to you shall appear) or any other Clause equivalent to This, inserted; or which, though they do not refer the Cognisance to Him, yet order such things, as are either manifestly just, or at least lawful and indifferent in their own Natures, he ought to obey readily, and without demur; for here is no difficulty, nor any ground at all for a just and reasonable Scruple.  
In such Commissions and Orders, as do not leave the Cognisance of the Matter to Him, but only decree some point of Executive Obedience; as in those particularly, which we commonly call Mandates and Warrants; if they be contrary to any positive Law, which the Sovereign hath power to dispense with, and there be Clauses of Non-Obstante for that purpose, to save the Party harmless; he is obliged to obey his Orders without more to do. Because, according to the Civil Constitution, and the Laws of the Land, the Sovereign hath a Liberty reserved to him of Relaxing, or setting aside the Law in such particular Cases. And the having such a Power over all Laws whatsoever, is the very thing in which Absolute and Unlimited Sovereignty consists.  
In Cases contrary to Law, and where no such Dispensing Clause is inserted; or such as manifestly make against the Public Good, (though there should be an Indemnifying Clause) or where the Magistrate knows his Orders to be obtained by Surprises or upon  Suggestions, or by Corrupt Methods; he ought not, in any of these three Cases, to be hasty in the Executing his Orders; but let them lie by a while, and with all Humility Remonstrate against them; And, if Occasion be, repeat those Remonstrances a second or a third time; but if the Command be Peremptory, and Unalterable, and repeated as often; then he is to comply so far as in Honour and good Conscience he may, and for the rest, to excuse himself, as well as he can.  
In Matters contrary to the Law of God and Nature, he must lay down his Office, and be content to quit all; nay, resolve to suffer the worst that can come, rather than be instrumental in, or consenting to them. I cannot so much as allow him to deliberate, or once to doubt, in such Circumstances, what he should do; For natural Justice cannot be hid; it ●h●nes clearer and brighter than the Sun; and all Men must see it, except those only, who wilfully shut their Eyes, and wink hard against it.  
All this Advice relates to Things in agitation, and intended or ordered to be done; but, as for those which the Sovereign hath done already, let them be never so Wicked and Unreasonable, a Man had better dissemble the Matter as well as he can, and try to wipe out all Remembrance of it, than lose all, by Provoking, and Expostulating with a Prince to no purpose; as Papinian did. For 
* Frustra niti, & nihil aliud nisi Odium qutrere, extremae est dementiae.  it is the very extremity of Midness to strive against a Stream; where no ground can be get, nor any thing but Hatred and Disfavour for our pains.  
As for their Duty, when considered in their other Capacity, and with regard to the private Subjects under their Government, Magistrates must always remember, whose their Authority is, and from whence they derive it. That this is none of their own proper Right, but merely a Trust; That they hold it from and under the Prince; That he hath the Fee, and is the Lord and constant Proprietor; but they are Tenants and Stewards at will, put in to Exercise this part of his Jurisdiction for so long a Term only, as their Commission purports; or during his Pleasure; and no longer. Now from hence it is very natural and obvious to infer.  
That a Magistrate ought to be easy of Access; always ready and at leisure to hear and receive the Petitions, and Complaints preferred to him. That his Doors should be open to all Comers, and he as seldom out of the way as is possible; but especially, not so, wilfully and by Contrivance; for he should consider himself, as no longer at his own disposal; but a Servant of the Public, and devoted to the Use and Benefit of other People: 
* Magna servitus, magna fortuna.  A great Post is a great slavery. And this was the reason why Moses his Law Commanded, That the Judges should keep their Sessions, and decide Controversies in the Gates of their Cities; that so Justice might offer itself to all that went in and out, and none might find any difficulty in addressing for, or in obtaining it.  
He ought to receive the Applications of all Persons and Conditions alike; and be open and kind to all; the Mean as well as the Great; and the Poor no less than the Rich. Upon which account it is, that one of the Philosophers compared a Magistrate to an Altar; to which all People have recourse in their Affliction and extreme Necessity; pour out their Souls there; and depend upon Relief and Consolation for their Troubles from so doing.  
But, though in point of Justice, he should be free and open, yet in Friendships, and Acquaintance he oug●●●o be exceedingly reserved; Not to make himself Cheap and Common, nor to admit any into his Familiarities, and intimate Conversation, except some very few Choice Persons, such as are known to be Men of sound Sense, and staunch Virtues; and these too, but privately. For a large and general Acquaintance debases the Authority of his Character; and abates of that Firmness and Vigour, which is necessary for the due Discharge of it. When Cleon was chosen and admitted to the Government, he called all his Friends together, and solemnly renounced from that time, whatever Friendship had been formerly between them; as thinking the continuing under such Engagements, by no means reconcileable with the Trust he had now took upon him; and Cieero observes accordingly, that a Man must put off the Character of the Friend, and lay that quite aside, before he can do Right to the part of a Judge.  
There are two Things, wherein the Office of a Magistrate chief consists: The One is, to 
† Gerere personam civitatis, ejus dignitatem & decus sustinere.  preserve and keep up the Honour, and Dignity, and just Rights of the Prince, who hath employed him, and of the Public whose Representative he is, with a becoming State, with Gravity, Authoritative Behaviour, and a well-tempered Severity.  
Next, He is to Act like a true and faithful Transcript from the Original; an Interpreter and Executor of his Master's Will; to see that this be duly declared, and diligently observed. By this Will, I mean the Law; for this is the Authentic Will of the Prince, and the only Declaration of it, which Subjects are bound to take notice of. Of this the Magistrate is to exact a faithful Account and punctual Observance; for which reason we often find him termed by Authors, The Living and the Speaking Law.  
Now, though it be the Duty of a Magistrate, and an excellent Qualification in him, to temper Justice with Prudence; and Severity with Gentleness and Forbearance; yet, it must be confessed much more for the common Advantage, to have such Magistrates as incline to the excess of Sharpness and Rigour, than those who are disposed to Mildness, and Easiness, and Compassion. For even God himself, who so highly recommends, so strictly enjoins all those humane and soft Dispositions upon other Occasions, yet positively forbids a Judge to be moved with Pity. The Strict and Harsh Magistrate is the better Restraint, the stronger Curb; He contains People in Bounds, and preserves a due Awe and Obedience of the Laws. The Mild and Merciful One exposes the Laws to Contempt; makes Magistracy cheap, and lessens the Prince, who made both the Law and the Magistrate, in the Eyes and Esteem of his People. In one word; There must go two Qualifications to the Capacitating a Man for the discharging this Office completely; Integrity, and Courage. The first cannot subsist alone, but stands in need of the second to support and back it. The former will be sure to keep the Magistrate's Hands clean from Avarice, and Partiality, and Respect of Persons; from Bribery and Gifts, which are the Bane and utter Exterminators of Truth; and from any other violation of Justice; which Plato calls, (what indeed it ought to be) a Pure Unblemished Virgin: This will also be a Guard to him against his Passions; the Aversions, or the Affection he may bear to the Parties concerned; and indeed all other Resentments, which are but so many Enemies and Underminers of Right and Equity. But then he will find great occasion for Courage too, to stand his ground against the Menaces and Imperious Solicitations of Great Men, the Requests and Importunities of Friends who fancy they have a sort of Right to dispose of him, and will not take a reasonable Resusal: To harden him against the Prayers and Tears, the loud Cries, and bitter Complaints of the Miserable and Afflicted; for all these are very moving and forcible inducements, a great Violence upon Reason and Duty; and yet so committed, that there is a plausible appearance of both, in the very Diversion they labour to give us from both. And the truth is, this firmness and inflexible Constancy of Mind is the most masterly Virtue, and particular Excellence of a Magistrate; that he neither be terrified and subdued by Greatness and Power, nor melted by Miseries, and deplorable Circumstances. These are what very brave Men are often transported by; and therefore it is the greater Praise to continue Proof against them. For, though being softened by the latter have an Air of Good-nature, and is more likely to prevail upon the Better sort of Men; yet either of the Extremes is sinful, and both foreign to the merits of the Cause, which is the only thing that lies upon the Judge. The Motives to Pity then are very dangerous Temptations; and what a Man in Authority ought as much to stop his Ears against, as Promises or Threaten; for even that God himself, who is Love and Mercy in Persection, hath discountenanced this unseasonable Compassion. And the same Legislator, who said, Thou shalt not receive a Gift to blind thine Eyes therewith, neither shalt thou accept the Person of the Mighty, found it no less necessary for the Good of Mankind, and the equal Distribution of Justice, no less agreeable to his own Goodness, to add that other Command, Thou shalt not favour a Poor Man in his Cause.   

CHAP. XVIII. The Duty of Great, and of Mean Men.  
THE Duty of Persons of Honour and Quality consists principally in these two Points. The lending a strong and powerful Assistance to the Public; employing their Wealth, their Interest, their Blood, in the Maintenance and Preservation of Piety and Justice; of the Prince and the Government, and in general, of the common safety and advantage. For they are the Pillars and Supporters, upon which these noble Structures stand; and by which they must be sustained. The other Branch consists in being a mighty Defence and Protection to the Poor and Needy, the Injured and Oppressed; by interposing their Power on the behalf of such, standing between Them and Ruin, and giving a Check and Diversion to the Violence of wicked and unreasonable Men. Persons of Honour in a State, should be like the Spirits and good Blood in our Bodies, which always run to the wounded, and the ailing part. It was this, that rendered Moses so proper to be made the Captain of the Israelitish Nation; and the Scripture takes express notice of his Zeal in revenging the Injuries of one of his Brethren who suffered Wrong, 
Act. 7.  and slaying the insolent Aegrptian; as a Sign, that God had Marked him out for a Deliverer of his People. Thus Hercules was Deisted among the Heathens, for being a Scourge to the Cruelty of Tyrants, and a Refuge to those that were Oppressed, and opprobriously Treated by them. And those other renowned Names in Antiquity, who followed his Example, have always been looked upon as Heroes, and something more than Men. Particular Honours and distinguishing Rewards were heretofore awarded to all such; as to Persons, who deserved exceeding well of the Public; and for an Intimation, That no Character is more glorious, none more attractive of Universal Admiration, and profound Respect, than that of being a Succour to the Afflicted, and Abused; and helping those, who were in no condition of helping themselves. It is by no means true Greatness, to appear formidable to any part of Mankind, except one's Enemies only. The affectation to have others stand in Awe, and Dread, and to Tremble before one, is a mean and pitiful Temper; and, at the same time that it renders the Man a Terror, it renders him an Odium too; a public Nuisance, and a common Enemy. Love in this case is more desirable, than even Adoration could be without it. Such imperious Men betray a fierce and haughty, a proud and assuming Disposition. This is it, which makes them so Contumelious and Disdainful; scorning their Inseriours, as if they were no better than the Dross and Dung of the World; and not Men of the same Nature with their own Great Selves. From hence, by degrees they degenerate into Barbarity and Insolence; abusing all beneath them, without the least Pity or Remorse; enslaving their Persons; invading their Properties and Possessions; as if Humanity and Justice were intended only for the Benefit of them who need it least; and as if they had no right to any thing, who cannot right themselves. All this is infinitely distant from true Greatness; and utterly inconsistent with Generosity and a Noble Mind; for these never dispose a Man to Cruelty or Contempt; but are a Safeguard and Defence, and delight in Offices of Courtesy, and Condescension, of Charity, and Mercy.  
The Duty of Mean and Inseriour Persons towards those that are above them, is likewise Twofold. First, That of Honour and Respect; and this, not confined merely to the outward Behaviour, and the visible Marks of a Ceremonious distance; (which is due upon the account of their Quality and Rank in the World, considered abstractedly, and by itself. Be they in themselves what they will in other respects, their Virtues or their Vices make no difference in the Case;) But there is likewise an internal Honour, the real Esteem and Affection of the Heart, which must constantly attend and put forward the other, if they be deserving Persons, and lovers of the public Good. Honour and Esteem are therefore capable of very dirserent Senses; They are both due to such as are Good, for such indeed are all that are truly Great Men. To those who want this substantial Character of Quality; we must pay the Civilities of the Cap and the Knee; our Bodies may and aught to bow to them, but our Hearts cannot; for this is done only by paying them our Love and Esteem.  
The other part of this Duty consists in endeavouring to please, and be in their good Graces, by respectful and voluntary Tenders of our Service.  
To please the Great is not the smallest Praise. Creech. and putting 
* Principibus placuisse viris non ultima laus est. Horat. Fp. 17.  ourselves under the shelter of their Protection. However, if we cannot make them our Friends, we should be sure to take care that they may not be our Enemies; which Care too must be as Prudent, as it is Necessary; and rightly tempered with Moderation and Diseretion. For nothing is more nauseous, than a Cringing Fawning Coxcomb, and excessive Officiousness does more harm than good. He that declines the Displeasure of a great Man, with too solicitous a Caution; or tries to wriggle into his favour by impertinent and unseasonable Addresses, does not only discover his own weakness and despicable littleness of Soul; but he likewise ministers just occasion of Jealousy and Offence; and secretly accuses his Patron of Cruelty or Injustice. And therefore what is done of this kind must be unseen, and by the by. 
† Non ex professo cavere aut fugere; nam quem quis fugit, damnut.  He must not make it his professed Business to decline and keep out of the way of his anger, for no Man avoids another, who does not in his own Breast condemn, and think ill of him at the same time. But besides, this too anxious and constrained way of making our Court may have another very untoward Effect: For, if the Person be disposed to do ill, and delight to be feared, it may be a Temptation to him, to Exercise his Power to our prejudice. For many times Men take a Pride to crush and insult over the fearful and suspicious; and mean unworthy Submissions do but provoke a more extravagant and remorseless Barbarity.     

OF FORTITUDE.  
The Third Cardinal Virtue.  
THE two Virtues, which have been insisted upon hitherto, are a Rule to Men, considered as Members of Society; and regard their Deportment, and Conversation; their Interests and Obligations with Others; These two that follow are to govern them within, and for themselves. They look upon Fortune in her two different Aspects, Prosperity and Adversity; which are general Terms for all the good or ill Accidents of humane Life; and the provision made against them, is to arm the Mind by Fortitude against Adversity, and in Prosperity to ballast, and moderate it by Temperance. Both these Virtues might indeed be comprehended under the general notion of Constancy; which is a tied and even firmness, or steadiness of Soul, in all manner of outward Accidents or Occurrences, so that the Man is neither elevated and transported upon the account of Prosperity, nor dejected and disheartened from any Adversity that befalls him.  

CHAP. XIX. Of Fortitude in General.  
COurage, (for so indeed this Virtue ought to be called, rather than Fortitude,) is a right and strong Resolution, an equal and uniform steadiness of Mind; by which we are enabled to encounter Danger and Difficulty, and Pain, so that the proper Object, and true Matter, about which this Virtue is conversant, is in general any thing that humane Infirmity is apt to start at, or be terrified by. Thus Seneca describes it, a Quality 
* Timendorum contemptrix, quae terribilia, & sub jugum libertatem nostram mittentia despicit, provocat, frangit.  that despises all things in their own nature formidable; that challenges and conquers the cause of our Fears, and such as enslave and subdue the native Liberty of the Soul.  
This is of all other Virtues the Gallantest and most Noble, and hath always been held in highest Honour and Esteem. The Excellence whereof, was so rightly apprehended by the Latins, 
Virtus.  that they gave it the Title of Virtue by way of Singularity and Eminence. It is of all others the hardest to be attained; the most pompous and splendid; and produces the greatest, and most illustrious Fruits. Magnanimity and Patience, Constancy, and invincible Perseverance, and the rest of that Heroic Catalogue of Godlike Excellencies are all contained under it. For which Reason, Men greedy of Fame, have oftentimes not only entertained Calamities gladly, but have even courted, and eagerly sought out Hardships and Dangers, to gain thereby the greater opportunities of exercising it, and exerting themselves. It is an impregnable Bulwark; a complete Armour tempered and proved: 
† Munimentum imbecillitatis humanae inexpugnabile, quod qui circumdedit sibi, securus in hâc vitae obsidione perdurat.  The Fortification, behind which bumane nature lies securely entrenched, and he who hath cast up this work about him holds out the siege of Life, and can never be taken, or dismantled.  
But now, in regard that this Matter is not rightly understood, and many false Pretenders to this Virtue are set up, which are not really of the right Line. It may not be amiss to expatiate a little more upon the true Nature of Fortitude; and in so doing, to discover and reject the vulgar Errors concerning it. We will therefore observe four Conditions, which are all of them requisite to the forming of this Virtue; and if what would pass for such, be desective in any one of them, That we may be sure, is counterfeit, and of a Bastard Race.  
As first of all, True Courage is universal, that is, it makes a brave stand against every kind of Difficulty and Danger without distinction, and this shows us the mighty mistake of confining this notion of Courage to Military Valour only; That indeed gains Esteem with the generality of People, because it makes more Show and Noise in the World, and yet oftentimes there is nothing of substance or solidity at the bottom of it. Now allowing Military Valour all that can possibly belong to it, yet at best, it is but one part, and that a small one neither; a single Ray of that Glory which the true and entire, the perfect, and universal Valour, sheds round about it. For by this a Man is the same thing alone, that he is in Company; the same brave Man upon a Bed of Languishing and Pain, as in the Field, and heat of Action; and marches up against Death with all his Friends and Relations looking on, and lamenting his Fate, as he would at the Head of an Army, when animated by the Shouts of those that assist in the Engagement. This Military and Fight Courage, is more peculiar and natural to Brute Beasts; and among them, we sinned accordingly, that the Female Sex have it in common with the Males. But in Men it is frequently the effect of Art, rather than any Tendency in Nature; kindled by the dread of Captivity and ill usage; by the evident Necessity of doing bravely in their own defence; and the certain prospect of Death or Wounds, Poverty, or Pain, or Punishment, if they do otherwise. All which have not any influence upon Beasts; nor do they lie under the least apprehension of them. The Courage of Men is a sort of wise Cowardice; and we commonly say, That every Man would be a Coward if he durst. It is Fear attended with skill to shun one Evil by another; and Anger is the Liquor that tempers, the File that sharpens it; But in Brutes it is genuine and pure, undesigning and unconstrained. Men arrive at some sort of Mastery and Perfection in it by Custom and long Acquaintance, by Instruction, Education, and Example; upon which account it is, that we find it sometimes among the meanest, most ignorant, and most degenerate sort of People. A Footman that hath run away from his Master, an Apprentice from behind a Counter, a Villain out of a common Gaol, shall very often make a good Soldier, stand a Charge, and do Duty very well; and yet have no such thing as real Fortitude; there is not the least tincture or spark of Virtue, or Philosophical Bravery in all this Fire.  
The second necessary Ingredient in this noble Composition is a full and distinct Knowledge of the Difficulty, the Toil, the Danger, that assaults us in our Undertaking; and also of the Beauty, the Decency, the Justice, and the Obligation, of attempting vigorously, or constantly and patiently enduring, what we are called to at that time. And this discovers the Folly and Mistake of confounding this Courage (as some do) with giddy unthinking Rashness; or else with Fool-hardiness, and a brutal insensibility. 
* Non est inconsulta temeritas, nec periculorum amor, nec formidabilium appetitio; diligentissima in tutelâ sui fortitudo est. Et eadem patientissima eorum quibus falsa species malorum est.  It is by no means (says Seneca) an inconsiderate forwardness; not a fondness of Danger, nor a desire of those Accidents, which strike a Terror into common Men; Fortitude is provident and careful, and diligent in her own Defence; and yet she is extremely patiented and resigned under those things, which are (commonly but falsely) reputed Evils. There cannot possibly be any such thing as Virtue, where there is no Knowledge, no Apprehension; and a Man cannot with any good Sense be said to despise that Danger, which he knows not, and does not rightly understand. For at this rate we cannot refuse the honour of this Virtue to Brutes; who in every part which concerns the Action, or the Suffering, do equal, if not exceed the Stoutest Men; and yield to us in no point, but that of foreseeing and making a true Estimate of our Danger. For Valour distinguishes itself particularly by going on with our Eyes open, and not running blindfold; and accordingly we find by Experience, that those who undertake boldly, without regarding, or duly weighing what is like to come on't; commonly flinch and sneak, and prove errand Dastards, when they are driven to a push.  
A third Ingredient necessary to be taken notice of in the Character of Fortitude, is, That it is a Resolution and firmness of Mind founded upon solid and good Principles; the sense of Duty, the Honesty, and Justice of the undertaking; and such other Motives; and this too such a Resolution, as never wavers or abates, whatever the Event be: But persists with unmoveable Generosity, till either the Design be brought to Perfection, or the Life lost in the Attempt. The mention of this Qualification may at first sight seem somewhat superfluous in the former part of the Description, but it is in reality seasonable and of good use; and that, as upon its own account, so more especially because it gives us an occasion to obviate two or three very gross and common Mistakes, with relation to this Matter.  
As first, some have so odd, so stupid a notion of Fortitude, as to place it in bodily Strength, the Structure of the Man, and the largeness of his Limbs. But alas! This is no Excellence belonging to the Body, not the stiffness of the Muscles, the knitting of the Joints, or the size of an Arm, or a Leg; but a quality peculiar to the Soul, and entirely residing there. The worth of a Man is to be computed from his Heart, and his Will; there it is, that his true Honour is to be found; and the only Advantage, the true and complete Victory to be gained over an Enemy, is the shaking his Constancy, driving away his Resolution, subjecting him to Terror and Disorder, and putting his Virtue to flight. All other Advantages are either fictitious, and imaginary, or else borrowed, and not properly ours; The lustiness and strength of a Leg and an Arm, is an Excellence fit for a Porter only to boast of: To force our Enemy to give ground, or engage him in a disadvantageous ground, is not a Commendation belonging to Us, but to Fortune. He that continues his Courage to the last, and slackens not one whit of his Gallantry, and Constancy, at the approach of Danger or Death; you may call him beaten, if you please, but than it is not his Adversary but the Chance of War that beats him; and if he happen to fall in the Engagement, he is killed, I confess, but he is not Conquered. If Fate be to blame, he is not; for though he die unfortunately, yet he does not die cowardly and basely: For the Gallantest Men cannot command Events answerable to their Merits, and very frequently are less successful than others. Another Error, yet more senseless than the former, is the looking upon those to be stout and brave, who swagger, and strut, and talk big, and by a contemptuous Air, a stern Countenance, and vain boasts, would fain get the Reputation of Valour. But these do not often meet with People silly enough to be frighted into such an Opinion; and when the Bully comes to be tried, a difference is soon seen, between a Hector and a Hero.  
Nor are they less deceived, who give the Title of Valour to subtlety and stratagem, or to Industry and Art; This is too sacrilegious a Profanation, to bring in Courage acting so mean and sneaking a part: These are trick and disguise, and would put false Stones upon the undiscerning World for true Jewels. The Laccdaemonians, who bred their Youth to Wrestling, would not suffer Masters in any of their Cities, that so their Warlike Exercises, and growing expert in them, might be entirely Nature's Work, and that Art might usurp no part of the Glory. We count it a bold and brave undertaking to encounter Bears, or Lions, or wild Boars, who have nothing but their natural Fierceness to render them formidable; but the same Commendation is not reckoned due to one, that engages with Bees or Wasps, who watch their advantage, and go cunningly to work. Alexander would never play at the Olympic Games; for the Strife, he said, was not well contrived, where a private Man of no Soul might come off with applause, and a King with a great one might be thrown out with Disgrace. There is no manner of reason, why a Man of Honour should value himself, or offer to put his Valour upon a Proof, which the errandest Coward in the World, if he be better taught, and dextrous at his Weapon, shall be able to baffle him in. For such a Conquest is in no degree owing to Courage, or true Virtue; but to activity of Body, and some particular motions, which are purely the effect of Artifice and Address; such as the basest and most timorous may excel in, and such as a truly valiant Person, may either not know how to perform, or may think it beneath him to descend to them. Fencing particularly is such an advantage, The Bravest may be utterly unskilful in it, and the most despicable Wretches may be Masters of it. And how many Scoundrels do we see in every Street, ready to draw upon all occasions; how many Cheats that play Prizes, and Hack one another for Money; who would not stand one Charge at the approach of an Enemy? The same may be said of that assurance and presence of Mind, which proceeds from habitual Exercise, and long Custom. How many hazardous things do Tumblers, and Ropedancers, and Seamen do, without the least concern? Not that these Men are really more valiant than others, or dare venture farther into Danger; but because this is their own way, what they have been bred up in, and accustomed to from Children; and Practice hath worn out those Apprehensions, which a Gallanter Man would have, who is raw and unexperienced in the Trade.  
One very wrong Notion more it is sit I should mention upon this occasion; That, I mean, which, for want of observing nicely the Springs by which Men are moved, and the true source of each Action, does very absurdly put all that to the account of Bravery and Courage, which is in truth a Weakness, and owing merely to Heat of Passion, or a Zealous Concern for some particular Interest. For, as a Man cannot deserve to have his Virtues commended in point of Justice, for being faithful and serviceable to those he dearly loves; nor in point of Chastity, for not abusing his own Daughter, or his S●●er; nor in point of Liberality, for being bountiful to his Wife and Children; so neither may he pretend to any just Honour in point of Valour, for exposing himself resolutely to those dangers, which Anger, or Revenge, Interest, or private Satisfaction thrust him upon. If therefore Avarice shall make a Man bold, as it does Spies and Traitors, Robbers and Villains, Merchants at Sea, or Soldiers of Fortune, that sight purely for pay; if Ambition and vain Glory, an itch to get the name of a brave Man, kindle the spark of Honour as they call it; which may very reasonably be presumed to be the case of a great many Men of the Sword, (who will not scruple to own sometimes, that if they could be verily persuaded they should die in the Attack, nothing should ever bring them on:) If they grow peevish and discontented, weary of living, or worn out with pain, like Antigonus his Soldier, who, whilst in violent Torment with a Fistula, ventured at all, but when the Disease was Cured, and he in perfect Health again, could never be got to face an Enemy more. In a word, if there be nothing but some particular humour, or selfish and foreign Consideration at the bottom, how fair soever the Exploits, that are built upon this may look, yet still the foundation hath a flaw, and consequently, call the thing what else you will, but while it is defective in so very material a part, you must not be allowed to call it Valour or Virtue.  
I proceed now to the fourth Qualification of this noble Excellence, and that is Prudence and Discretion in the executive part. Which being once admitted, several other false opinions relating to this Matter, are from thenceforth out of doors, such particularly as these that follow. That a Man, who is really courageous, should not use any defence to shelter himself from the Evils and Inconveniences which threaten him; that he thould never be in fear of a Surprise, nor be follicitous to make provision against it; that he should not so much as feel the least shock or impressions of disorder from any thing more than ordinary, or that happens unawares; as a Clap of Thunder, the Discharge of a Cannon-shor, the tumbling down of a Breach. Now all this is monstrously foolish and absurd, for a Man of Fortitude is allowed to take all imaginable care of his own Preservation; and to have as quick and sensible resentments of all accidents whatsoever, as any other Person. Nor is this the least disparagement or reflection upon his Virtues, provided he be not daunted and dismayed, but keep up his mind in the same steadiness of Temper, and do not departed from his Reason and Resolution. Nay, it is not only his Right and Privilege, but his Duty and just Commendation, to wheel and decline, and defend himself from harms, so long as there are any honest shifts, and decent Remedies left; but when there are none, than he must stand his ground, receive the worst that can come, and dare to suffer any thing rather than to do what is vicious, or unbecoming his Character, for the prevention or escape of it. He must then like Aeneas, obey the Commands from 
* Mens immota manet, lachrymae voluntur inanes.  above at any rate, for so we find him described by the Poet. 
Sighs, Groans, and Tears, are all employed in vain:  
Firm the resolves of his unbroken mind remain.   
Socrates therefore used to laugh at those idle Men, who condemned all Flight, and giving of ground, as inconsistent with Fortitude. What? says he, shall a Man be reproached with Cowardice, for defeating his Enemy, because this was done by retreating from before him? Homer, among the other Heroic Excellencies of Ulysses, puts this of Skill in retreating into his Characler. The Lacedæmonians, who pretended to the most obstinate Courage of any Nation in the World, yet in that renowned action of Platea gave ground, on purpose to break the Persian Troops, and disorder them in the pursuit. This was an advantage which they had no other way of compassing, and the Success answered the wisdom of the Design; for they won the Day by this Faint of losing it. In a word, the most warlike Countries in the World have given it authority, and never thought themselves dishonoured by the Practice. Nay, even the Stoics after all their impracticable, and romantic Stretches of humane nature, are content to allow their wise Man, so far as looking Pale, and shivering at new and surprising Accidents; provided this be only a bodily Affection, and that it do not enter so deep, or last so long, as to give the Soul any part of the Disorder.  
And thus much may suffice to possess us with a true Idea of Fortitude, or Courage in general.  

Of the particular Objects, and Exercise of Fortitude.  
NOW that we may cut our Work out, and lay it in due order; it is necessary, in the first place, that I put my Reader in remembrance, that this Virtue undertakes to deal with all that, (whatever it be) which is called Evil; according to the most popular and extensive signification of the Word. Now this Evil is of two sorts, either External, or Internal. The former is that which assaults us from without, and goes by great variety of Names; such as, Adversity, Afflictions, Injuries, Misfortunes, Casualties, or unwelcome Accidents. The other arises from within, and hath its residence in the Soul; but it is excited, and agitated by the Evil from without: Such particularly are those Passions, which disturb and discontent us, as Fear, Grief, Anger, and the rest of that black disorderly Crew. It will be proper for us to speak to each part of this Division fully and distinctly; to explain their Operations, to provide Men with proper Remedies, and sufficient means for the subduing and softening, and regulating these Grievances. And such are the Arguments and Directions for the Virtue of Fortitude, now under our Consideration. Consequently then, what you are to expect upon this Subject will consist of two parts, the one respecting the Calamities and Disastrous Accidents of our Lives; the other concerning the Passions, which these Accidents provoke, and stimulate in our Minds. And here my Reader must recollect that the general Directions thought necessary for the bearing good or ill Fortune decently, he hath been supplied with already. So that referring him back to the second Book, 
Rock II. Chap. 7.  for what regards Prosperity and Adversity in the gross, he is only to expect now, that we should descend to the particular sorts of Misfortunes, and what is ●it to be prescribed for each of them respectively.    


CHAP. XX. Of External Evils.  
WE may consider these External Evils, in three several respects. First, with regard to the causes or occasions of them, (which shall make the Subject of this Chapter) next in their Effects; and lastly, with regard to what they are in themselves; where I shall treat of the several Species of them distinctly. And under each of these Heads, I will make it my endeavour to lay down such Rules and Directions, as may sustain us under, and fortify us against them.  
The Causes or Occasions of these afflicting Accidents, which are capable of happening to every one of us, may be public or general, when they affect a great many at the same time; when whole Kingdoms, or Neighbourhoods at least are involved at once; such as Pestilence, Famine, War, Tyranny, and Oppression. And these, for the most part, are Rods of the divine Vengeance; Scourges sent by him to chastise the exorbitant Wickedness of obstinate Men, who resuse to be won over by gentler methods of Reformation: (At least we know not what immediate cause to ascribe them to,) or else they are private Calamities, and such as we are able to trace up to their first Author and Original; that is, they are inflicted and brought upon us by some other Person: And thus both the private and public Misfortunes are of two forts. Now the public Calamities, those, I mean, which proceed from a general Cause, though they do really come home to each single Person; yet are they in different respects more or less grievous, important, and dangerous, than the private ones, of which we are able to give a distinct and particular account. They are more so, because they assault us with united force, fall on in Troops, and with greater violence, make a louder noise, rage more horribly, have a longer and blacker train of ill Consequences attending them, are more perplexing and amazing, and create greater Disorders, and a more general Confusion. But then, they are less so too, in regard of their being thus general; and for the numbers, which are involved in them together: For when a Disaster is common, every Man is apt to think his own share of it the less. It is some kind of comfort, to think that we are not singled out for Examples; and for this reason, the efficacy of such Corrections is usually the less; for every Man takes Sanctuary in the commonness of the Calamity, and imputes it to some universal disorder in Nature, or to some unusual concurrence of natural Causes; and so shelters himself in the Crowd by vain pretences, which personal afflictions leave no room for. And besides, daily experience shows, that the Evils brought upon us by other Men, gall us more sensibly, and go nearer to the Quick, and have a greater influence upon our Minds, than any of the former sort are wont to do. Now all these, both of the one, and the other sort, have several proper Remedies, and Considerations to qualify and render them very supportable to us, as particularly these that follow.  
When we have any public Calamities to encounter, it will become us very seriously to reflect whence they come, and by whom they are sent. That the Cause and Author of them is God, an Omnipotent and Alwise Providence; whose Pleasure we are subject to, and have an absolute and entire dependence upon; that he governs and disposes all things, and holds those vain Men in derision who hope to burst his Bands asimder, and to cast away his Cords from them; that we and all the whole Creation are tied by Laws of an invincible necessity; and that the strongest Combinations, nay the universal joint strength of the whole World, is much too weak to reverse or resist his Will. Most certain it is, that Providence, and Necessity, or Destiny, when we speak strictly and properly, are but one and the same thing; There is no essential disserence between them, or the Laws upon which they proceed; and all they vary in, is only as to those different respects, which we are used to consider, and reason upon them in. Now to murmur and repine, and torment ourselves, that Matters are not otherwise ordered with us, is first of all an Impiety peculiar to Mankind; for all other Creatures submit quietly and contentedly, and Man only hath the insolence to be angry, and find fault, and fly out into saucy Passions, and discontented Complaints against his Maker. But besides the wickedness of the thing, it is extremely foolish; for all this rage is to no manner of purpose, nor does it mend the matter one whit. Our Mistress is absolute, and her Power (as I said) , and those who draw back the shoulder, and will not follow her contentedly, she will drag him along, whether he will or no. 
* Ad hoe sacramentum adacti sumus; far mortalia, rec ijs perturbari, quae vitate nostrae potestatis non est. In regno nati sumus. Deo parere libertas est. Desine sata Deûm flecti sperare querendo.  This is the Obligation we are bound by, the Allegiance we all own; to bear the Casualties of this mortal State, and not be disturbed at things, which it is not in our power to avoid: We are born under Government, but it is that of a gracious and good King, whom to serve and submit to, is the only, the true way to make us free.  
Fate and the Dooming Gods are deaf to Tears. Mr. Dried.  
The best remedy our Case is capable of, is to conform ourselves to Providence; to bring our Will to that of Almighty God, and so make a virtue of Necessity, which is the advice humane Wisdom would give in this case; for 
† Non est aliud effugium necessiratis, quàm velle quod ipsa cogat.  the only way we can take to escape the hardship, is to be content with what we cannot help. We may parry and play in Guard, but all this fencing against our Fate will not ward off the blow, but only irritate the wound, and add to the anguish. 
‖ Laeto animo ferre quioquid accide●it, quasi volueris tibi accidere; debuisses enim velle, si scires ex deereto Dei fieri.  You should bear whatever happens cheerfully, as if you had wished it might happen; for the truth is, could you have known beforehand, that God designed it for you, it would have been your Duty to wish for it. Again, besides that we shall come off casier by this means, we shall likewise have the satisfaction of doing our Duty, which is to follow our I eader, and obey Orders, let the Service, or the Post he commands us upon, be what it will. 
‡ Optimum pati quod emendare non possis; & Deum, quo Authore cuncta proveniunt, sine mormuratione comitari; malus miles est qui Imperatorem gemens sequitur. Senec.  The best thing you can do is to submit to what you cannot cure, and to attend and follow Almighty God without murmuring or disputing, for it is by his appointment, that all things come to pass; and he is a very bad Soldier, who follows his general grumbling. This Resignation of Spirit is so far from betraying any tameness or degeneracy, that it is directly otherwise; and such submission proves the excellency of our Courage. Grumbling and Disputing is the effect of Cowardice and Fear; it is mutinying against our Officer, and running from our Colours. 
* Magnus' animus qui se Deo reddidit; pusillus & degener, qui obluctatur; de ordine mundi male existimat, & ●mendare mavult Deum, quam se.  Mean and little Souls stuter and struggle, and repine; but they who do so, have not a very reverend Opinion of the Government of the World; for the plain English of these Discontents is, that such Men are more solicitous to amend God's works, than their own.  
The first thing to be done for the relief of private Evils, and such as other People bring upon us, and which we are apt to be very sensibly affected with, is, nicely and truly to distinguish them, that we may not have lose confused Ideas, and so be led into misapprehensions about them. Now of these some are Displeasing, and others are Offensive to us. We oftentimes conceive a Displeasure at Persons, who have been guilty of no Offence; neither intentionally, nor actually: As when they either ask us, or deny us something upon very good reasons, which was at that time unseasonable, or inconvenient for us or them: We are all apt to be out of humour upon such occasions, and yet there is no offence given, no injury done. For offences, we must know, are of two forts, some cross our Designs, and perplex our Affairs, by offering somewhat contrary to Equity and good Conscience, and this is injuring us: Others have nothing to do with our Concerns, but are directed to, and terminate in our Persons, which are thereby contemptuously used, or otherwise ill treated, and this Treatment may be either in Words or Actions; these are more grating, and harder to be born, than any other fort of Affliction whatsoever.  
The first and general Advice against all these sorts of Evils, is, To establish our minds in a firm Resolution, not to be carried away by common Opinions; to consider things, not as the World esteems of them, but as they really are; weighing them and their Consequences, in the just balance of Reason and Truth. For the generality of Mankind are ramely led by the nose, wholly governed by Prejudice and Impression. How many of those, who call themselves Men of Honour, think it a less affront to have a dangerous wound given them, than a Box on the Ear, and had rather die upon the Spot, than hear approbrious I anguage? In short, Opinion measures and judges of every thing; and it is not so much the thing itself, as the Opinion Men have of it, that provokes our Indignation; Our own Impatience does us more hurt, and creates us more uneasiness, than the Persons who have occasioned it. So that we ourselves are more injurious to ourselves, than ever those we complain of were to us.  
As for the other Rules, and such as are more particular to our Case, these may be deduced first of all from ourselves, (and here indeed we ought first to look, and ux our Thoughts) For these offences may perhaps be owing to our own Defects, or Faults, or Infirmities. Perhaps what was said or done is only a little Raillery, grounded upon some defect in our Person, which they had a mind to mimic or expose. And how foolish is it for us to be out of humour, at that which is none of our Fault? The best way to cut off occasion from those we converse with, and prevent their taking any advantage of this kind, is to be beforehand with them, by mentioning it first ourselves; that they may perceive we are sensible of the thing ourselves, and that it is not in their power to mortify us, by reproaching a defect which we did not know before: If any fault of ours gave the occasion, and we have deserved this affront, what foundation can here be for Passion and Resentment: It is then no longer an Offence, but a Correction and just Reprimand; and we ought to receive it as a Chastisement, and improve under it accordingly. But very frequently, and indeed generally, our Peevishness and Discontent arises from some weakness of our own, which renders us jealous and humoursome. Now the way to cure this, is to correct our own Captiousness, and be less nice and tender in those points of Honour; which are so uneasy to ourselves and to other People: To arm ourselves with a masculine greatness of Soul, and despise the little Follies and Indiscretions of the Company we converse with. It is a shrewd presumption that a Man is not sound, when he roars out every time you touch him: And we must never expect to be easy as long as we live, if we take exceptions at every trifling thing, every little freedom that passes in Conversation.  
Another sort of Directions may be taken from the Persons at whom we are offended: Let us form to our own minds a general Representation of those we live among, and see what their humour, their disposition, and way is. The greater part of Mankind find their chief satisfaction in doing ill, and make a Computation of their Power, by the privilege it gives them, to be insolent and injurious to other People. Those who delight in Innocence and Goodness are but very few in comparison: This therefore we ought to reckon upon as a never failing Conclusion, that, which way soever we turn ourselves, we should be sure to meet with some body or other disposed to give us offence: For wheresoever we meet with Men, it is odds, but we meet with Injuries and Affronts among them. This is so sure, so ruled a Case, that even Lawgivers themselves, whose peculiar business it is to reform the World, in their measures for distributive and commutative Justice, have found a necessity of allowing and conniving at several irregularities, which were never to be prevented. Now this Necessity of giving and taking offence arises, first of all, from the Contrariety, and inconsistence of Humours and Inclinations; from hence we are able to account for many offences taken, which were never intended to be given. Then again from the Coincidence, or opposition of Men's Interests and Affairs, which is the occasion, that the same thing which contributes to the Pleasure, or Prosit, or Happiness of some, tends to the Dissatisfacation, or Detriment, or Mischief of others: And according to all the Ideas we are able to form of the World in its present Circumstances, thus it must be, and we cannot discern how it should be otherwise. If the Person who gave you offence, be a foolish, or a rash, unthinking Man, (and such to be sure he is, for a Wise and Good Man will be offensive to no body, why do you complain of a thing done by one who hath not his Wits about him? You bear with a Madman, nay, you are so far from being angry, that you pity him; you laughed at a Buffoon, or a Child; and I pray how is a Drunken Man or a Fool, a Colerick, or an Indiscreet Man, more worth your anger than any of those? When such Fellows therefore let lose their Tongues upon you, the best way is to make no reply: Hold your tongue, and leave Matters there. It is a brave and noble, yea, and a Cruel Revenge too, which we take upon a Fool, in disregarding and despising him; it robs him of all the pleasure he promised himself by provoking us to passion, and plainly declares, that we think him an impertinent and insignificant wretch, better than all the sharpest repartee would possibly express it. If we reply, this debases us and is a sort of entering into comparison with him; it is the showing him too much respect, and doing an injury to ourselves. For 
* Male loquuntur quia bene loqui nesciunt; faciunt quod solent & sciunt, male quia mali, & secundum se.  they give ill Language because they cannot tell how to give better, they act as they use to do, and according to the best of their understanding, for the worse they behave themselves the more consistent they are, and more of a piece with themselves.  
Now the Counsel which W●●●m would give in the caso is most certainly such as this. You must have a due Consideration both of yourself, and of the Person who gives you the Offence: As to yourself, take care not to be guilty of a thing so mis-becoming, so very much below you as the suffering yourself to be overcome, and put besides your Reason. The imprudent Man who seems to suspect himself, and flies out into rage upon every trifle, declares by this carriage, that he looks upon himself sit to be affronted, for indeed it is meanness and littleness of Soul, or a Consciousness of our own insufficiency, that hinders us from being above resentments of this kind, and despising what we are sensible does not belong to us. A Wise and good Man is not capable of being injured, but is firm, secure, and inviolable; for the quality that renders any thing inviolable, is not the being above the power or force of Men, but above the being broken or made the worse for it: And nothing would fortify us more against every manner of accidents than the possessing our Souls with this Maxim, That we can never be hurt indeed, but by our own selves; if our Reason be what it ought, and our Actions according to it, we are invulnerable. Hence it was, that Socrates hath taught us what comforts to apply in such Extremities by his own Example. Anitus and Melitus may kill me, says he, but they cannot hurt me. And thus a good Man as he is not capable of ill within, and will not offer any, so he is impenetrable from without, and cannot suffer any real Injury: Virtue is a Wall of Brass, the Scoffs and Affronts are all repulsed or lodged there, and not one of them comes through to touch his Person; and to all this self-security we may likewise add another Consideration from the Opinion and Esteem of the World; for there is no body but will look upon the Aggressor as a very ill Man, and upon the Patient as one not deserving to be so treated: As to the Party who hath thus affronted you, if you esteem him no better than an impertinent or idle fellow, use him accordingly, and show that you value him not by a generous disdain; if he be otherwise, you should plead his excuse to yourself; you ought to presume that he had (or at least apprehended that he had) occasion for what he did; That it was not done out of any malicious design, but through inadvertency or mistake, want of breeding, or some other very pardonable defect; if not so, than you may be confident he hath seen his error, is angry at himself for it, and wishes most hearty it had never been done: Once more let me add, that we ought to play the good husbands, and make the most of Injuries and Offences; for indeed they are no small advantages which these put into our hands, particularly, they are capable of turning to very good account two ways, with regard to each of the parties concerned in them. For first with regard to the person who did the Injury; this hath discovered the Man to us, we have seen a little more of the World; we know such a one two well to trust him another time; and have fair warning to avoid him ever after. But than Secondly, they help us to know ourselves too, show us our own infirmities, our breaches and blind sides, where the Foe may get within us, and what we cannot hold out against; and this gives us warning to work upon those breaches, and put them in a defensible condition against the next attack upon us. Let us learn to amend that fault too, which occasioned the abuse, that no other Man may have the like provocation to reproach us hereafter: This is the true way of defeating the malice of others, and doing right to ourselves; for what nobler Revenge can a Man take upon his Enemies, than to turn their injuries and affronts to his own Prout, and to learn more Prudence and Conduct, and to grow the wiser and better, more cautious and inoffensive by being ill used. The World at this rate is an excellent School; and the more unreasonable Men are, the more a Man of good fence and temper may improve himself under their even unjust Corrections.   

CHAP. XXI. Of External Evils with regard to their Fruits and Effects.  
HAving thus considered the Causes, let us now inquire into the effects of our evils, and what fruits they produce; where again we shall meet with very powerful Antidotes and substantial remedies against them. Now these effects are many and great, general, and particular.  
The general effects are such as concern the good, the support, the order, and improvement of the Universe. The World would be choir stified and choked up, it would Stagnate and putrify, if it were not sometimes stirred and changed, and put into a new form by such important and alterative accidents, as Plagues, and Famines, and War, and Mortality; these are the things that prune and purge it, and throw down that product which overburdens the soil; and by so doing they preserve the rest, and give them elbow-room: for were there no such evacuations we should not be able to move and live by one another. But then consider the grateful Varieties and Vicissitudes, the regular Successions and alternate Changes, by which the World is thus adorned and beautified, every part of the world finds some convenience by these alterations. For from Nations and Men coming to be transplanted by such means, the barbarous and wild and savage part of Mankind are polished and civilised; Arts and Sciences, Learning and Policy are spread wider, and communicated to every part of the habitable Earth; so that we are to look upon the Universe as one large Plantation, where some Trees are removed to a more convenient Soil, others are grasted and inoculated, others cut down to the root, that they make more regular shoots by the loss of superfluous suckers, others quite plucked up, but all this done in such order by the skilful Cultivater, that every thing tends to th● profit and beauty of the ground. These enlargements of our Thoughts, and considerations of Universal advantage ought to content every Wife and good Man, and prevent irreverent reflections upon those wonderful works of God, which Men are too apt to accuse for barbarous and disorderly; or to look upon with amazement as strange and unaccountable. It is enough that they are the ordinances of God and nature, and aught to satisfy us, that how odd soever they may appear with regard to that little spot of ground which is commanded by our own Eye, yet they do great and signal service to the whole. For would we extend our prospect, we should quickly discern that what is lost in one place is gained in another, or rather indeed to speak more properly, that nothing is lost any where, but all conduces to the just variety and convenience of the World in general. 
* Vir sapiens nihil indignetur sibi accidere, sciatque illa ipsa, quibus laedi videtur ad conservationem universi pertinere, & ex his esse quae cursum munch officiumque consummant.  A Wise Man, says one, will take nothing amiss that happens to him; for he will observe, that those very things by which his particular Interests seem to suffer, are expedient, and greatly contribute to the preservation of the whole; and that these are the methods by which the course of the World is continued, and every part of it brought to its just and necessary perfection.  
The particular and personal effects of these evils are different, according to the various tempers and conditions of the Men to whom they happen. To the good they are an exercise and trial to those that are fallen, a relief and recovery, a warning and call to them that go astray; and to the obstinately wicked, a dispensation of Punishment and Vengeance. Of each of these uses I shall say but one word or two very briefly.  
And first, these external evils provide the good Men excellent opportunities of exerting and improving their Virtue, which would otherwise want matter to work upon, and lie idle and undiscerned. A good Man under affliction, is in the same circumstances with Fencers in their Schools, or Mariners in a Storm, or Soldiers in an Action, or Philosophers in their Academy; that is, he is upon his proper duty, attending the business of his profession, and showing his skill in it; for these are the very methods that instruct, and enter, and sorm, and finish him in Virtue, that establish him in Constancy and Courage, and enable him to conquer and triumph over Fortune and the World: They bring him acquainted with himself, make him know his own strength by frequent experiments, tell him what he may depend upon, and promise himself from it; nor do they only give him a true representation of his past and present condition, but they help to amend it too; they encourage and confirm his resolutions of doing well, harden and accustom him to suffering, fix and determine his mind, secure his past conquests, and render him invincible for the time to come; Whereas on the contrary, a long calm of prosperity is exceeding apt to soften and enervate Men's minds, and to corrupt them by ease and leisure, carelessness and sloth, inactivity and long disuse. Demetrius, for this reason used to say, that of all Men living he thought none so truly miserable as those who had never met with disappointments, and crosses, and trying afflictions, and compared their life to the dead sea, where there is a perpetual Stagnation, and noxious vapours breed and reign for want of winds, and a vigorous commotion of the waters to break and disperse and drive them away.  
To Delinquents and inconsiderate Offenders, these afflictions are a check and curb to hold them in, and prevent the wild and furious sallies of vice unrestrained; or else a rebuke and chastisement, the rod of an Affectionate but Provoked Father, to reduce and reclaim them, that they may be more considerate and mindful of their duty hereafter, and abandon utterly those courses which have cost them so much smart and pain. Thus it is with our minds as with our bodies; and the health of both is consulted by the same applications. These sufferings are like the breathing of a Vein and seasonable Physic, sometimes made use of as preservatives, to prevent the gathering of ill humours and divert them another way; at other times as correctives and restoratives, to purge the corrupted mass and carry off a disease already form.  
To the Obstinate and Incorrigible they are a Punishment and Plague, a Sickle to cut those down speedily, whose Iniquities are ripe for destruction, or else to make them more lingering and languishing spectacles of vengeance. And thus you may plainly discern very excellent and necessary effects of the troubles Men are used so bitterly to complain of, such as may abundantly convince us how erroneous that opinion is, which looks upon such dispensations as evils, and aught to prevad upon us to entertain them with Patience and a becoming temper of mind, to take them in good part as the instances and operations of the divine justice; and not only so, but to welcome them gladly as the useful instruments and sure pledges of the tenderness and love, and careful providence of God; and especially using our utmost diligence to benefit under them, and to answer the intention of that wise and kind being, in whose disposal all these things are, and who distributes them according to his own good pleasure, and as they may be most suitable to every Man's occasions.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
Of External Evils, considered in themselves particularly.  
ALl these Evils which are many in number, and various in their kinds, are so many privations of some contrary good; for so much indeed is employed in the very name and nature of evil: Consequently the general heads of evil must answer and be equal to the several heads or species of good. Now these may very properly be reduced to seven. Sickness and Pain, (for these being Bodily indispositions, I join them together as one) Captivity, Banishment, Want, Disgrace, Loss of Friends, and Death. The good things we are deprived of in the forementioned Circumstanc's every one sees very plainly to be Health, Liberty, our Native Country, Wealth, Honour, Friends, and Life; each of which we have had occasion to treat of at large in the foregoing parts of this Treatise. All therefore that remains to be done at present is to prescribe such Antidotes against these as are proper to them respectively; and that very briefly and plainly, without any nice or formal Reasoning upon the Case.    

CHAP. XXII. Of Sickness and Pain.  
IT hath been observed in the beginning of this Treatise, 
Book 1. Chap. 6.  that Pain is the greatest, and in good truth the only evil attending this Mortal Body of ours; the most sensible, the most insupportable, that which is least to be cured, lest to be dealt with or assuaged by consideration. But still, though this be not altogether so capable of advice as most other afflictions; yet some Remedies there are drawn from Reason, Justice, advantage and usefulness, imitation and resemblance of great persons celebrated for their illustrious Virtue, and that branch of it which consists of Patience, and these such as they are I shall just propound to my Reader's Consideration.  
First then the enduring what is tedious and troublesome is a necessary encumbrance of life, and charged in common upon all living creatures, upon Mankind most evidently and especially. And it is by no means reasonable that providence should work a Miracle for our sakes, and exempt us only. How absurd is it therefore to fret and perplex ourselves because that hath happened to one Man in particular, which might and may happen every moment to every Man without exception.  
Nay it is not only general and common but natural too. We are born to it, and cannot in any equity and justice hope to be exempted; for indeed should we cease to be subject to it, we must cease to be Men. Whatever is a fixed and irreversible Law of our Creation ought to be entertained with meekness and moderation: For we entered into life upon these terms, and the conditions of humanity expressly indented for are old Age and Infirmities, Decays and Diseases, Anguish and Pain. There is no possibility of avoiding these things; and what we can never get clear of, it will be our best Wisdom to settle a resolution of making the best of, and to learn how we may go through with it.  

* Confide, summus non habet tempus dolour. Si gravis brevis; si longus levis.  If the pain be long it is but moderate; and consequently very supportable; and a Wise Man will be ashamed to complain of any thing less than extremities. If it be violent and exceeding acute it is but short, and we should not repine or be driven to impatience for a suffering which is quickly over. And yet this must of necessity be the case; for nature cannot sustain itself under the continuance of extreme Torture: There must be an end either of that or of the Patient in a little time; and which of these two soever be the conclusion of it as to the suffering part, the matter comes all to one, and therefore let this give us courage and comfort.  
Consider again, that these sufferings can go no deeper than the Body, we are not injured our very selves: every real injury takes off from the excellence and perfection of the thing; but now Sickness and Pain are so far from derogating from and doing any real prejudice to us, that on the contrary they furnish matter, and put occasions in our way for a more noble exercising of Virtue than any that we own to Ease and perfect Health: And surely where there is more occasion of praise and Virtue there cannot be less good. If the Body be what the Philosophers usually call the instrument of the mind, why should any one complain, for this instrument being applied to its proper use and worn out in the service of its proper master? The Body was made on purpose to serve the Soul, but if every inconvenience which befalls the Body shall disorder and afflict the mind, the order of nature is quite inverted, and the Soul from thenceforth becomes a servant to the Body. Would you not think that man unreasonably querulous and childish, who should cry and roar and take on heavily because some thorn in the hedge, as he passed by, or some unwary passenger had spoiled or torn his Clothes? A poor broker, who was to make Money of the Suit, might be allowed some concern upon such an occasion; but a Gentleman and one of substance and condition would make a jest of it, and not esteem it worth a thought, when so trivial a loss was compared with the abundance he had left. Now this Body of ours is no other than a garment, borrowed for a little while that our Soul may make its appearance, and act a short part in it, upon the stage of this lower World: But the Soul in the mean while is that which commands our value and regard; and our great affair is to secure the honour and quiet of this better part, while sojourning in this busy and tumultuous life. And what do we think may be the true reason why Pain provokes us to so great impatience? What indeed, but that we place our happiness upon wrong objects, and do not set up our rest, nor seek our satisfactions in the Soul. 
* Non assueverunt animo esse contenti; nimium illis cum corpore fuit.  Men grow into coldness and negligence of this part, and grow too familiar and fond of the Body. And Pain, as if it were sensible of this folly of ours, plies us hard in our tenderest part, especially when a Man shivers and trembles at its approach, as if it took a pride to insult over such unreasonable fear and concern.  
The advantages however of this so much dreaded misery are considerable; it helps to wean our affections, and teaches us to work off our relish and delight from that which we must shortly leave; for there is no one thing more assisting to us in giving us a due sense of the emptiness of the World and what an errand cheat it is, than Sickness and Pain; and I think every Man must confess this to be a very considerable piece of service.  
It heightens the pleasure consequent upon it. For when a Disease hath had its course, the satisfaction of a recovery is much more sensible than any enjoyment of uninterrupted health. This cheers and enlivens us, like Light out of the midst of Darkness; and a Man would almost imagine that nature had contrived Pain on purpose, that by mingling some of those sharp intervals, ease and pleasure might have due honour done them, and be rendered more acceptable and exquisite.  
Let us then reflect upon these few Suggestions, and see what consequences they naturally offer to us. If our Pain be moderate, the virtue of Patience cannot be very difficult; if it be extreme, the glory of enduring it as becomes us is proportionably great; if it appear insupportable, our own cowardice and effeminacy have made it so; if there are but very few, who can bear it decently, let us try to be of that number; for the smaller it is, the more distinguishing and commendable it is to be in among them. Let us not lay the blame at nature's door for making us no stronger: This is all pretence, it is not natural weakness but affected nicety and tenderness that disables us in this point. If we run away from Pain it will pursue us; if we surrender ourselves to this enemy and suffer it to conquer us, we shall be treated with insolence and barbarous usage, and the reproach of tameness will stick hard upon us. If it tries to terrify us and we stand our ground, the success will be above our expectation; let us therefore defeat and disappoint this design, by showing ourselves more resolute and brave than it thinks for. For the greatest part of the smart and anguish is owing to our own softness and delicacy, our yielding and sinking under it. 
* Non quia difficilia non audemus, sed quia non audemus, difficilia.  We do not flinch from things so much because they are hard to be born, as we create that hardship to ourselves by dreading and shrinking at them.  
I may reasonably expect that all the former arguments should be looked upon as flights of speculation, Philosophical notions, which Men of refined thoughts entertain when they are at ease, but would soon find impracticable if brought to the trial; and therefore to obviate this objection, I have reserved to the last place the instances and examples of persons whose practice hath justified the possibility and mighty efficacy of all that hath been said here, or is usually urged in Books upon this occasion. And these, not only of wise and extraordinary but of ignorant and common Men; Nay, even Women and Children are frequently mentioned in story to have endured both long and acute pains and diseases, and with a mind so steady and unbroken, that the anguish which hath taken away their lives was never able to subdue their constancy and courage. They have waited the approach of their torments, and encountered them knowingly, and met them gladly, and supported themselves under them with marvellous cheerfulness; nay, have even sought and courted the severest and most exquisite tortures humane nature is capable of suffering. The Lacedaemonian Boys are notorious for whipping one another, till sometimes they expired under the scourge, and all this without the least change of Countenance. A sort of barbarous discipline, instituted to harden them, that they might be better qualified to do their Country service when thus enured to sussering. Alexander's Page was burnt to the very Bone with a Coal, and endured it without the least complaint, rather than he would interrupt the Sacrifice. A Spartan Boy let his Bowels be cat out by a Fox, rather than he would discover his Theft. Pompey, when taken by King Gentius, who would have compelled him to reveal the secrets of the Roman state, thrust his singer into the Fire, and burned it till Gentius could bear the sight no longer, to convince him, that all Torture would be lost upon him. The Case of Mutius with P●rsenna was another instance of the same kind; and good old Regulus endured more than all of them from the Carthaginians. The account of Anaxarchus hath scarce any Parallel; who, when pounded in a Mortar at the Command of a Tyrant, cried out, Beat on, beat on your Bellyful, you cannot touch Anaxarchus his self, you only bruise the Shell of him.  
But that which is a remedy indeed, is one peculiar to Christians, the sure prospect of a future and eternal state; the consideration what cruelty and contradiction of sinners their Saviour condescended to suffer; and that participation of glory and bliss with him in Heaven, which is ordained and reserved for those who suffer with and for him: that is, after his example in a good cause, and for the sake of Faith and a good Conscience. These reflections will animate Men, not by rendering them insensible or taking sanctuary in nice and airy distinctions, but by furnishing arguments superior to the quickest and tenderest sense of Pain. And accordingly we see what incredible effects these Religious comforts had in all the Primitive Persecutions; how triumphant they were in the midst of Racks and Fires and Crosses. The having respect to the recompense of Reward, The balancing the light Afflictions of a moment with the Eternal and far more exceeding weight of Glory; the committing this Body to the Ground, like seed for a plentiful and joyful harvest at the general Resurrection; the confidence in the promises of him who cannot lie. These inspired the noble Army of Martyrs; and these are able to support all their followers, who have a title to the same expectations, and are heirs through hope to the same Kingdom. And all the Stoical Philosophy put together, cannot minister the hundredth part of that Consolation, which those two short Sentences of S. Paul do, No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous but grievous; 
Heb. 12.11.  Nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of Righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby; And, We know that if our earthly house of this Tabernacle be dissolved, 
2 Cor. 5.1.  we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the Heavens.   

CHAP. XXIII. Of Captivity or Imprisonment.  
THis Affliction is very inconsiderable in comparison of the former, and the conquest of it will prove exceeding easy to them, upon whom the prescriptions against Sickness and Pain have found their desired effect. For Men in those circumstances have the addition of this misfortune, confined to their houses, their Beds, tied to a Rack and loaded with fetters; and this very consinement is a part of their complaint, though the least part. But however we will say one word or two of it.  
Now what is it that Captivity or Confinement imprisons? The Body, that which is itself the cover and the Prison of the Soul; but the Mind continues at large and at its own disposal, in despite of all the World: How can it indeed be sensible of any inconvenience from a Prison, since even there it ranges abroad as freely, as gaily, takes as noble, as sublime, as distant slights, if not much more so, than it does in other circumstances? The Locks and Bars, and Walls of a Prison are much too remote to have any power of fastening it down or shutting it in; they must needs be so, since even the Body itself which touches upon, is linked to, and hangs like a Clog fastened to it, is not able to keep it down, or six it to any determinate place. And that Man will make a jest of all these artisicial and wretched, these slight and childish enclosures, who hath learned how to preserve his native liberty and to use the privilege and prerogative of his condition, which is, to be confined no where; no, not even in this World. Thus Tertullian derides the cruelty of the Persecutors, and animates his Brethren by reling that a 
* Christianus, etiam extra carcerem, saeculo renunciavit, in Carcere etiam carceri; nihil interest ubi siris in saeculo, qui extra sacalam estis. Auseramus carceris nomen, secessam vocemus; ●●si corpus includitur, caro detinetur, omnia Spiritui patent; totum hominem animus circumfert, & quo vult transfert.  Christian even when out of Prison had shaken hands with the World, that he defied and was above it; and that when under Confinement, the case was the same with his Gael too. What mighty matter is it in what part of the World you are, whose principle it is not to be of the World? Let us change that name of so ill a sound, and instead of a Prison call it a retreat; where when you are shut up the flesh may be kept to a narrow room, but all doors are open to the Spirit, all places free to the Mind; this carries the whole Man along with it, and leads him abroad whithersoever it will.  
Prisons have given very kind entertainment to several valuable, and holy, and great Men; to some, a Gaol hath been a refuge from destruction, and the Walls of it so many fortifications and entrenchments against that ruin which had certainly been the consequence of liberty; nay, some have chosen these places that there they might enjoy a more perfect liberty, and be farther from the noise and clutter and confusion of the World. He that is under Look and Key is so much safer and better guarded: And a Man had better live thus, than be cramped and constrained by those Fetters and handcuffs which the World is full of; such as the places of public business and concourse, the Palaces of Princes, the conversation of great Men, the tumult and hurry of Trade, the vexation and expense of Lawsuits, the envy and ill-nature, the peevishness and passions of common Men, will be continually clapping upon us. 
* Si recogi●emus i●sum magls mundum carcerem esse, exisse nos è carcere, quam in carcerem introisse intelligemus. Majores tenebras habet mundus, quae hominum praecordia excaecant, graviores ca●enas induit, quae ipsas animas coustringunt, pejores immunditias expirant libidines hominum, plures postremo reos coutinet, universum genus hominum.  If we do but reflect (says the same Author again) that the World itself is no better than a Prison, we shall imagine ourselves rather let out of a Gaol than put into one. The darkness by which the World blinds Man's minds, is thicker and grosser, the chains by which it clogs and binds their affeclions heavier; the silth and staunch of Men's lewdness and beastly conversation more offensive, and the Criminals in it more numerous, for such in truth are all Mankind. There have been several instances of persons, who, by the benefit of a Prison, have been preserved from the malice of their enemy's, and escaped great miseries and dangers. Some have made it a studious retirement, composed Books there, or laid a foundation of great virtue and much learning, so that the uneasiness of the flesh hath been a gain to the spirit, and the confinement of the body was well laid out in a purchase so valnable as the enlargement of the mind. Some have been disgerged as it were by a Prison, thrown up when it could keep them no longer, and the next step they made hath been into some very eminent dignity, as high as this World could set them; this remark the Psalmist hath left us of the wonderful dispensations of providence: 
Psal. 113.  He taketh the simple out of the dust, and lifteth the needy off from the dunghill, That he may set him with Princes, even with the Princes of his people. And he indeed who was an Israelite might well make this reflection, since even among his own Ancestors they had so eminent an instance as Jeseph, of the mighty alteration we are now speaking of. But others have been advanced yet higher, exhaled as it were and drawn up into Heaven from thence. But thus much is certain, that there can be no such thing as perpetual Imprisonment; general Gaol-deliveries are unalterably established, an Article of the Law of Nature; for no Prison ever yet took in a Man, whom it did not shortly after let out again.   

CHAP. XXIV. Of Exile, or Banishment.  
EXile is in reality no more than changing our Dwelling, and this hath nothing of substantial Evil in it. If we are afflicted upon the account, our grievance is not owing to what we complain of, but to our own humour and imagination. If we will go to the Reason of the thing, all places are alike, and a Man's All is every where equally: For two words indeed comprehend the whole of what a Wise Man values, and those two are Nature and Virtue.  
The same Nature is common to all Countries, the same Sky, the same Elements. The same Sun shines, the same Stars rise and set, and their Motion, their Extent, the Proportion they appear in, the same. And sure, if any part of Nature he to be valued, that above us is much more worthy of Consideration and Esteem, than this Sediment and gross, and drossy part, which we tread under our fect. The farthest prospect of the Earth which we can take, does not amount to more than Ten or Twelve I eagues: So that a Soul, which settles its Affections upon this part, shuts itself up in a very narrow compass. But the Face of this glorious Firmament, adorned and beautified with such infinite Constellations, which like so many grafts of Jewels glister over our heads, expands itself; and that it may be more effectually and distinctly viewed, the Motion is perpetual and circular, and every part turned towards us; so that every point is visible to every place, within the single Revolution of each Day and Night. The Earth, which (taking the Seas, and ambient Atmosphere into the account, is computed not to be above the hundred and sixtieth part as big as the Sun,) is to Us incomparably less still; for it is not visible to us in any part, except that little spot, that single Point upon which we stand. But, were it otherwise, what does this Change of our standing signify? We think it a hard case, to be born in one place, and driven to another. Have we any propriety, in the place of our Birth? Our Mothers might have been delivered in any other place, as well as that where they were; and nothing is more entirely Casual, than the particular Spot where we first drew Breath, for there was in Nature the same possibility of our being born any where? Besides, every Climate produces and carries Men, sustains them with its Fruits, and furnishes them with all the Necessaries of Life; so that there is little fear of Perishing any where. Every Country settles us among our Relations too; for all Mankind are so, nearly allied in Blood, and nearer yet in Charity and Affection. Friends too may be found any where, we need only be at the pains to make them, which will soon be done, if we are careful to win their Hearts by our Virtue and Wisdom. Every quarter of the Habitable World is a Wise-man's Country, or rather indeed no part of it is his Country. It were an injury and disparagement to suppose him a Stranger any where; and a weakness and littleness of Spirit in him to esteem himself so. A Man ought to use his Privilege, and assert his natural Right, which consists in living every where, as if he were at home, and dwelled in his own: In 
* Omnes terras tanquam suas videre, & suas tanquam omnium.  looking upon all places, as if he had a propriety in them; and upon his own Estate or native Seil, as if it were in common to all Mankind.  
But farther, what alteration, what inconvenience can possibly come to us, by this changing our Residence? Do not we still carry the same Soul about with us? And will not our Virtue keep us company where ever we go? What can hinder a Man (said Brutus) from carrying his Excellencies, all he is really and truly worth, into Banishment, or Captivity? The Mind and its commendable Qualities are subject to no consinement, circumscribed within no determinate space of ground; but can live, and act, and exert themselves in all places indifferently. A good Man is a Citizen of the whole World, frank and free, content and cheerful wherever his Lot casts him; always at home in his own Quarters; and always sixth and settled, however this Case or Portmantean that encloses and conveys him, may be hurried and jumbbied from one place to another. 
† Animus facer & aternus ubique est, diis cognatus, omni mundo & aevo par.  The holy and immortal S●ul is an Vbiquetary, of near resemblance and affinity to God himself, and like him diffused equally, and ever present to all the stages of time, and all the distances of place. And wheresoever a Man feels himself well, and easy, and in full enjoyment, that is his home, call the Country by what name you will. And it is evident, that Ease and comfortable Enjoyment is not entailed upon particular Cities or Climates; this is what no place can give, he can only depend upon his own mind for it, and that can give it him in any place equally.  
How many very significant Men have found cause to choose and impose a voluntary Banishment upon themselves? How many others, when sent and driven away, and afterwards invited back again, have refused to return into their own Native Country; and been so far from thinking their Exile an insupportable Misery and Punishment, that they have taken great delight and satisfaction in it; and reckoned no part of their time so well spent, or so worthy the name of living, as that in which they were debarred their own Country. This was the case of some generous Romans, Rutilius, and Marcellus in particular; And again, how many do we read of, whom good Fortune hath taken by the hand as it were, and led them abroad, put them in the way of Honour and Preferment in foreign Lands, such as they could have no probable prospect of ever attaining at home?   

CHAP. XXV. Of Poverty, and Want, and Loesses.  
THis is a very vulgar, and (like the rest of theirs,) a very silly and poor spirited Complaint; for it supposes the whole, or at least the most considerable part of a Man's Happiness, to depend upon the advantages of Fortune, and looks upon a low and mean Condition, as a real and sore Evil. But now, to show what that is in truth, we must observe, that there are two sorts of Poverty: One is, That Extremity of it, which we properly call Penury, or want of Bread; when those supplies are lacking, which are necessary to the support of humane Nature. And this is a Calamity, which happens but very seldom: For Providence hath been so bountiful, and Nature so prudent, that there are but a few of these absolutely necessary things. The very Frame of our Bodies is a good defence in this case, and so far from exposing us to a needy Condition, that a little will serve the turn, and that little is to be had almost every where: Nay, it is to be had in such quantities, as will not only reach to the keeping Life and Soul together, but are a sufficient Competency for moderate and frugal Persons. If we do not affect to lay it on thick, and squander away our Provisions; if we would take our measures from Reason and Nature, and be satisfied with what these desire, and prescribe to us; we shall seldom or never want enough for our purpose. But if we will create to ourselves fantastical and imaginary wants, nothing can ever satisfy us. 
* Si ad naturam vives, nunquam eris pauper; si ad opinionem, nunquam dives. Exiguum natura desiderat; opinio immensum.  He that lives by Nature, says Seneca, can never be Poor; and he that lives by Fancy, can never be Rich; for the former will gladly take up with a little, but the latter grasps at all, and there is no end of it. A Man that is master of any sort of Trade, or bred up to any Profession; nay, he that hath neither of these advantages, if he have but the use of his Hands, is safe from these Extremities, and will find no just reason to fear, or to complain of this first sort of Poverty.  
The other sort consists in the want of those things, which exceed a sufficient provision for the uses of Nature, and minister to Pomp and Pleasure, Delicacy and Supersluity; what we commonly call a Decency, and this is in truth the thing most Men are so mightily concerned for; loss of rich and sumptuous Furniture, the not having a Down Bed, and a Table well spread, or a stately House; shut out from the Comforts and the Ornaments of Life. But this, when all is done, is not Want, but Niceness; and that is the very Disease we labour under. Now all complaints of this Nature are highly unjust, for what they dread as Poverty, is rather to be preferred and wished for: We see the Wisest Man that ever lived, was for neither Poverty nor Riches, but only such Food as was a convenient Subsistence for him. It is more agreeable to nature, more truly rich, more quiet and safe, than all that abundance Mankind are so fond of. First, it is more congruous and agreeable to our Condition, because Man came Naked into the World, and he must go so out; and how can he call any thing his own, which he neither brought along with him, nor can carry away with him? The Possessions we pretend to here, are like the Furniture in an Inn; ours to use while we stay, but not to remove when we leave the House: And therefore all we ought to look at is our present Accommodation. Secondly, it is more true Riches, for a larger Manor none can be possessed of. He that hath enough, hath all the World. 
1 Tim. 6  Godliness with Contentment is great Gain, says the Apostle, it is safer and more quiet: For here is no Fear to perplex, no hope of Booty to tempt, no danger of Enemies to fence against; Poverty is secure in the inidst of Banditi. A little Man, when covered all over with his Buckler, is less liable to danger, than a bigger and stronger, who is in many parts exposed, and cannot bring his whole Body within the compass of his Shield; such a condition, as it does not burden and fatigue a Man with great Troubles, so neither does it make him capable of great Losses. And therefore these sort of People are always more easy, and free, and cheerful, for they have not so much to take care of, nor can they suffer so much by any storm that shall happen to blow. Such a Poverty as this is snugg and close, gay, and jolly, and secure; all foul Wether flies over its head; it makes us truly our own Men, masters of our Lives, without the hurry and noise, the squabbles and contentions, which are the necessary encumbrances of plentiful Fortunes, and devour the greatest part of their Ease and Time, who stand possessed of them. And what precious things are these to be called, the Goods of this World, that are big with so many Mischiefs, such substantial and vexatious Evils, that expose us to Injuries, enslave us to Jealousies and Suspicions; to anxious Fears, and inordinate Desires; and have so many thousand artifices to trouble and disquiet us? He that is discontented with the loss of these things, is miserable indeed; because he is deprived of his Possessions, and understanding both; and so does more than double his loss. The Life of Men in moderate Circumstances is a condition much like that of Coasters; but that of the rich is like Sailors out at Sea. These are tossed and driven, and cannot make Land though they would never so fain; they must wait a favourable Gale, and the Current of the Tide to carry them in: The former are always near home, and have it in their power to Debark whenever they please.  
To all these Considerations we shall do well to add one more; That of Great, and Generous, and justly Celebrated Persons, who have despised such Losses, n●y, have welcomed, and improved them to their advantage, and thanked Almighty God for them, as so many signal Blessings. Such as Zeno after his Wrack, the Fabricij, Serrani, and the Curij among the Romans. And this is an extraordinary Attainment in Virtue, when a Man can find his account, and discern, and satisfy himself with the wisdom and kindness of Providence, in instances which the generality of the World look upon with the greatest Horror and Aversion. The Gods were heretofore painted Naked, to intimate, that they are above both the Necessities and Gaieties of this World; and how Godlike a Quality the Philosophers heretofore esteemed the despising of them, we may learn by that voluntary Poverty, which so many of them embraced; at least, if it was the work of Fate, and not their own Choice, by that easy Content and Acquiescence of Spirit, with which they entertained it. To sum up all then in one word, to Persons of Prudence and unprejudiced Affections, Men of elevated Souls, refined and purged from the dross of Sensuality and Avarice, this condition of Life will appear preferable; but to all People, who think at all, it is very tolerable.   

CHAP. XXVI. Of Infamy, or Disgrace.  
THis Affliction is of several sorts, according to the different Senses, of which the Title here is capable.  
If by Disgrace, be meant, the loss of Honour, or Dignity, or offices of Importance and Trust, the Man is rather a Gainer than otherwise, and hath made a very advantageous Exchange. For what are such promotions but splendid slaveries, by which a Man hires himself out to the Public, and lays out his Property, and the enjoyment of his Person in the Service of other People? These Honours shine indeed and glister, but with that dazzling light they kindle Envy and Jealousy, burn up the Owner, and at last go out in Exile and Poverty. Let a Man but refresh his memory with the Histories of all Antiquity, and the most memorable passages of Great Men; see how thick a cloud they set in, and whether, almost to a Man, those that were most renowned for Gallantry and Virtue, did not finish their course, in Banishment, or a Prison; by Poison, or some other violent Death. See the declining Aristides, Themistocles, Photion and Sucrates among the Greeks; Camillus and Scipio, and Cicero, and Papinian among the Romans; Jeremiah and other Prophets among the Jews. Insomuch that a Man may say, Calamity and Disgrace is the very Livery and Mark of distinction of the best and bravest Men; the usual Reward which the People bestow upon those that have done them the best Service.  
If this word be interpreted of common Fame and Opinion, every Wise Man should have Spirit enough to despise That, and never trouble himself at all about it. He does but disparage and degrade himself, and betray his want of improvement in the study of Wisdom, who is got no higher in this noble Science, than to be concerned at those false, rash Judgements, and scandalous Reports, which are made and scattered at random; and which neither make a Man the better for their Commendations, nor one whit the worse for their Censure and Reproaches.   

CHAP. XXVII. Loss of Friends.  
BY Friends, I understand Children, Relations, and all whom Nature or Acquaintance have rendered near and dear to us.  
And here, first of all, we shall do well to examine pretty strictly into the true soundation of this Concern; whether the Complaints we utter, the Tears we shed, and all the sorrow and tender Resentments we pretend, be grounded upon their Interest, or our own. I make no question, but every Man will answer, that he grieves for their sakes; but then most People must give us leave to doubt the Truth of this; and not take it ill, if we be Infidels in the case, till satisfied by some more substantial Argument, than the mere authority of having their bare word for it. It is but an officious Dissimulation of tenderness and natural Affection, to put on an inconsolable Melancholy, and be eternally lamenting the Misfortunes of our Friends, or the Dangers and Calamities of the Public; for would we but draw aside the Curtain, and probe our Souls to the quick, Self would be found at the bottom, and the true cause of our Griefs will appear to be that private Interest of our own, which is involved, and interwoven with theirs, this is the very thing that affects us so sensibly. And what is this but a spice of Envy, rather than true and generous Affection? For that very Death, or absence of our Friends, which we bewail under the specious Title of their Loss and Misfortune, is in reality their mighty Gain, and greatest Advantage. 
* Moerere hoc eventum, invidi magis quam amici est.  The true use and consequence of Death is the putting a final and absolute Period to Men's Miseries, the placing them in a condition incapable of suffering. Had God in his Wisdom intended us a happier and more easy Being upon Earth, no doubt he would have contrived, that it should have lasted longer. But, as Matters now stand, and considering the Evils our Lives are beset with, it is a mercy he hath made them so short.  
If then we would speak out, and confess the truth impartially, this Affliction looks at home, and we lament the loss, because our own Affairs suffer in it. Now this at the first blush is evidently dishonourable and selfish; and we shall have much ado to justify our being sorry, that those we profess so dearly to love are in ease and happiness. If we loved them, as our Saviour says, in the like case, we should much rather rejoice; and if they loved us, it is but a decent gratitude to be content with some inconveniences, when the suffering of these is softened by the consideration of their unspeakable Advantage. For 
† Suis incommodis angi, non amicum, sed seipsum amantis est.  to be troubled at our own Loss may argue that we love ourselves, but it can never prove, that we love our Friends.  
But, after all, there is an excellent and never failing Remedy in store for our Affliction, which all the malice and power of Fate can never wrest out of our hands. And that is, a Reflection, that these Losses are not irreparable: For so long as we survive our Friends, so long we have opportunities of making new ones. Friendship is one of the greatest Blessings humane Life can boast of; and there is this mighty advantage in it, which other happinesses cannot pretend to, that it is one of the easiest to be attained. God makes Men, but Men make Friends: And they that do not want Virtue, need never want Friends; for this is the instrument of acquiring them; and that which will always be serviceable in supplying the number of those that are taken from us. If then Fortune hath rob us of this Treasure, let us take care to reimburse ourselves; and by this means we shall be so far from living destitute, that the parting with those we had, will only give us an opportunity of enlarging our Affections wider, and adding to the number.  

Of Death.  
THis Subject hath been already treated of so largely and fully in the Eleventh Chapter of the Second Book, that I have nothing new to offer upon it here. And therefore to avoid being tedious to my Reader, by cloying him with Repetitions, I shall only beg his leave to refer him back to that Passage.  
The second Division of Evils, consisting of such as are Internal, to wit, the Disquieting Passions of our own Minds.     


PREFACE.  
FRom these several Evils already insisted on, several tormenting Passions are begot and bred in our Minds. For when any of those Afflictions are considered absolutely, and in themselves; there springs up Fear in us, if we apprehend them as future and approaching; or Grief, if we reflect upon them as present, and at that instant actually oppressing us. And if these Calamities do not immediately affect us, but others suffer in them, than the Passion we are moved to, is Pity and Compassion. When to the Consideration of their own Nature, we join that additional one of their Causes or Occasions, and reflect upon them as done or procured by some other Person, than the Passions provoked by them are. Anger, Hatred, Indignation, Spite, Envy, Jealousy, Revenge; and all those other Resentments, which dispose us to bear a grudge, and look with an evil Eye upon the Person 〈◊〉 a create us uneasiness and trouble. Now this Virtue of Fortitude consists in the entertaining these misfortunes regularly, and a ●eeably to right Reason and Equity; in behaving ourselves gallantly under them, and so preserving our Souls free and undisturbed by any of the Passions apt to be excited, and so grow outrageous upon these occasions. But in regard they own their very Being to these Afflictions, if a Man can manage the Rules and Remedies here already prescribed, so as to gain an absolute Conquest over the Evils themselves: These Passions will be crushed in the Egg, and all farther directions concerning them are wholly superseded. And this indeed is the best and most effectual way, to stifle and cut off the first Tendencies towards them. Efficacy and Success must unavoidably wait upon this method, as that Fire is sure to be quenched, from which all combustible Matter that might feed it, is withdrawn in time. But though this taking off the Fuel be the best, yet is it not the only way of keeping down this flame; and therefore I will provide for the other Course, by adding some Directions against each of these Passions in particular; which design will take up the less of our Time and Pains, in regard each of them hath formerly been drawn at length, and that in Colours so natural, so black and hideous, that it may reasonably be expected, those Representations should work us up to a due horror and detestation of them.   

CHAP. XXVIII. Remedies against Fear.  
LET us not be too hasty, and anticipate our Misfortunes, but be content to stay till they overtake us. Why should we run forward to meet those Miseries, which at the same time we would fain run away from? Possibly they may not carry so far, but be spent, or fall to the ground before they reach us. Our Fears are every jot as fallible as our hopes: Perhaps the time which we expect with terror, to bring our Affliction, may come big with Joy, or at least bring a Comfort equivalent to the Sorrow. How many millions of surprising Accidents may interpose, and ward off that Thrust, which we apprehend must give us our mortal Wound? Lightning, they tell you, will be diverted from its course by the motion of a Hat, and the fortunes of great States, and whole Nations are blasted, and blown down in an instant by accidents, as slight as the Breath of ones Mouth. Give the Wheel but one whirl, and that which was at the top is tumbled down to the bottom; and it very frequently happens, that the Persons who were our Terror, become our Pity or our Scorn; and the Thing, from whence we looked for nothing but Ruin, is the best instrument and insurance of our Safety. Nothing is so liable to Mistakes as humane Prospects: What the Prudence of Man hopes for, disappoints him; what this fears, vanishes, and slips from under him, and what it never dreamt of happens to him. Almighty God keeps his Counsels to himself; he alone knows what he hath to do: But his Measures and Methods are dark and distant from humane Sight; and this is the occasion of the many amazing Changes we see in the World; that what we Project and Form to ourselves in one way, God decrees and brings about in another. Let us not make ourselves unhappy before our time; and it is very likely we may never be so at all: The future, which cheats so great a part of Mankind, may probably cheat us among the rest, to our advantage. It is a famous Maxim in the practice of Physic, that the acutest Distempers have no Prognostics to be depended upon: And thus far it holds in our Fortune too, that the more furious and threatening her Symptoms are, the less we can form any certain Judgements from them. While there is life, there are hopes, is as good a Rule, as just a Comfort, with regard to our Affairs in Disorder, as it is with respect to our Bodies in Sickness.  
This Fear is not always the effect of Temper and Complexion, but very often of Delicacy, and a too tender Education. For we apprehend many things to be more grievous than really they are, merely for want of being hardened in our Youth, and accustomed betimes to difficult and laborious Undertake. And upon this account, we should find great benefit in using ourselves a great while before hand, to that which is apt to strike a Terror into us; representing to our Imaginations the dreadfullest Dangers, that we can possibly fall into, and growing familiar with them by degrees; making some hazardous attempts by way of Gallantry and Trial, that so we may bring our Courage to the touch, be beforehand with mischance, and wrest the weapons of Fortune out of her hands. For we shall find it much easier to resist her, when we are the Aggressors, than when she puts upon the Defensive. At such times, we have the Law in our own hands; can take leisure to arm as we please, can make the most of every Advantage, and secure our Retreat; whereas, when she comes on, and Attacks us, she surprises, and singles us out at pleasure. We shall do very well therefore to exercise our skill upon her, and, by beginning the Combat unprovoked, practice, and grow perfect in the Art of defending our Post: To sound sometimes a false Alarm, to see how we should receive it, if it had been in earnest, and a real Engagement. To set before our Eyes instances of astonishing Dangers, which the greatest and worthiest Men have been driven to; and recollect, that some have escaped the dismallest that we can imagine, thereby to prevent Confusion and Despair; and that others have perished under the slightest and most inconsiderable, thereby to awaken us out of our foolish security, and convince us, that we are not where so safe, that Consideration and Prudence should be laid aside as unnecessary.   

CHAP. XXIX. Against Grief.  
GRief hath been formerly delineated, under the Characters of the most tormenting, most prejudicial, and most unjust passion of all others. The greater reason to be sure we have to acquaint ourselves with proper Remedies against it. And these are of two kinds, Direct or Obliqne.  
I call those Direct, which we derive from Philosophy, and the force of Reason; such as are employed in facing the Calamity, and learning to disdain and contemn it; persuading ourselves, that these External misadventures are no real Evils, or if there be any thing in them, which may justify so harsh a name; yet that they are so small and slight, as not to be worth the disordering our Minds about them; that any notable change in our Temper and Mind is more than the greatest and most grievous of them all aught to obtain from us; and that to spend our Breath in Complaints, and our Days in Melancholy upon their account, is highly unjust and mis-becoming. (For at this rate the Stoics, and Peripatetics, and Platonists have delivered themselves upon these occasions.) This method of keeping ourselves above Grief, and every painful Passion, is indeed very beautiful and excellent; what challenges, not only our Commendation but our Wonder, because it is exceeding Rare, and none but Souls of the first rate seem to be qualified for the undertaking.  
There is another of a meaner and more practicable Dispensation, the effect of Philosophy too, but not in its Aeme and utmost Perfection; for this is a more popular Method, and condescends to the Infirmities of Mankind; not so nobly descended, but of more general use. And this is what I call Obliqne, because it consists in quieting the uneasy thought, by drawing off the Mind from its present Anguish to some more pleasant and agreeable, or at least to some fresh Object. This is properly shifting the Scene, declining, or, according to the modern way of expression, shamming the Misfortune. A remedy exceeding common, and such as Mankind are fain to take refuge in upon several other occasions, as well as this. For, if we observe the thing nicely, it will appear, that many Cures are wrought both upon our Bodies and Minds this way. Thus when we are assaulted by Temptations, Divines advise, that we would not trust ourselves alone, but flee into Company. Thus when there is any strong Defluxion of Humours upon the Vitals, which cannot be carried clear off, Physicians divert the Morbific Matter, and throw it into some of those parts, where the Lance, or the Searing-Iron may be able to deal with it. Thus Men that travel over dangerous and frightful Precipices, shut their Eyes close, or look another way. Thus the Men of Courage in Fight, do not reflect upon their Danger, or think they are grappling with Death; but find themselves transported and busied with the Heat of Action. And of the many renowned Heroes, who have suffered calmly and patiently, nay, even of those who have died by their own choice, or their own hands, (which some Greeks and Romans heretofore were vain enough to do merely for the Honour and Reputation of despising it; and others have been so brave and constant to undergo, in the confidence and assured hope of a better Life, as the Christian Martyrs; the Scholars of Hegesias, and others after the reading of Plato's Antiochus; or for the getting quit of the Miseries of the present Life; or whatever other Motives they had;) still this was but a Stratagem of Diversion; for these Motives took their thoughts off from the main point in Difficulty. For that which they aspired after, or that which they fled from, made the more vigorous impression; and either quite swallowed up, or mightily assuaged the Terror of what they were about to suffer. But few or none of these had that firmness of Soul to consider the Calamities themselves; to converse with, and come close up to them; to see them in their frightfullest forms, and yet not start at them. This was a glory reserved for Socrates, and Flavins condemned by Nero to die by the hand of Niger, and some very few besides. We may therefore content ourselves very well with diverting our Minds by some other Considerations, when any cross Accidents, or other external Calamities assault us. The common People seem to be sensible of some more than ordinary Efficacy in this Prescription, when, upon all Melancholy occasions, they advise their Friends not to think of that which gives them the Disorder. And those, who undertake to advise or comfort Persons in Affliction, will do well to consider what Counsel they are capable of following; to infuse some other thoughts into them, by gentle and insensible degrees, so loosening and undermining the Object of their trouble, and trying to plant another in its room. For this taking the ground of their Melancholy from under them, before they are well ware of it, will prove a more real Consolation (in the first and furious Paroxysms especially) than the most Philosophical, or which is yet better, the most Christian Harangue in the World. For though every Man may know, and urge pathetically enough, such Arguments as Reason tells us, it is fit Melancholy Persons should submit to; yet these may all be lost, if the Application be out of time: And therefore it is very necessary, that Men should proceed with Judgement, and Tenderness; that they should observe, both in what manner the Passions are to be treated, and when they are fit to be treated with, when they will bear coming up to the point; and when they must be pacified by some powerful Diversion.   

CHAP. XXX. Remedies against Compassion.  
MY Reader may possibly be startled at this Title, suspecting, that it favours too much of Inhumanity; but to abate his Surprise, I must remind him, that there are two sorts of Pity. The one firm, and brave, virtuous and commendable, such as we are told Almighty God and the blessed Spirits partake of; and this consists in applying our inclination, and actual Endeavours to relieve the Afflicted, yet so as not to take the Affliction upon ourselves, nor do any thing in diminution of the justice of the Cause, or the dignity of our Character. The other is a womanish and senseless Pity; full of Tenderness and Concern; which proceeds from weakness and effeminacy of Soul, concerning which I have spoken sufficiently heretofore, 
Book I. Chap. 32.  in that part which described the several Passions. Now for the conquering and composing this second sort; Wisdom directs us to secure the Afflicted, and to ease his Burden, but not to put under our own Shoulder so far, as to bear the Load with him. In this Sense it is, that God is said to be Pitiful; and his Bowels and Yearnings must not be interpreted of the same uneasinesses we feel upon these occasions, but of the same readiness to do good, and to extend his help, which we find in ourselves upon feeling those uneasinesses. As the Physician does all he can for his Patient, and the Counsellor for his Client; but than it ends in diligence and industry, and making the most of their Case; but never goes so far, as laying their miscarriage to heart. The Wise Man is desirous to assuage the Pain, but not content to smart with it; nor to darken and disorder his Mind with the Vapours of that Melancholy, which he labours to quiet and compose. God Commands us to have a regard to the Poor, and to qualify their Afflictions as well as we can; to plead their Cause for them, and to defend their Right; but yet at the same time he charges us to watch over our Passions, and take care that we be not balanced even by good Nature and Pity itself, against Equity and Justice, and the Results of true Reason.   

CHAP. XXXI. Remedies against Anger.  
THese Remedies are many and various, such as the Mind ought to lay in, and be strongly armed and guarded with long before; Like People that expect a Siege; for it will be too late to begin to fortify, when the Enemy hath opened his Trenches, and plays his Batteries upon us. They may be reduced to three Heads; The first are such as secure all the Passes, and cut off the approaches and first beginnings of this Passion. For it is infinitely easier to repel, and guard the Avenues against it, than either to subdue and bring it to Rule, or to beat it out again, when once it hath got within us. We shall do well therefore to consult our safety betimes, by delivering ourselves from all those causes and occasions of Anger, which were heretofore observed and explained, when we were describing the nature and rise of this Passion. Such in particular as these that follow, 1. Weakness of Judgement; 2. Indulgence and Effeminacy; a Sickness of the Soul, which must be cured by hardening it against any Accident, which can possibly happen. 3. Niceness, and humoursome Fancies, fondness for little Trifles, which must be corrected by bringing our Appetites, to plain and easy and simple things; for this indifferency and simplicity of Manners is the Mother of inward Peace and Content. And therefore 
* Ad omnia compositi simus, quae bona & paratiora, sint no●is meliora & gratlora.  let us be prepared and capable of every thing, satisfied with what comes next, and esteeming those conveniences best and most acceptable, which are nearest at hand, and will cost us least trouble. This is the general Rule given by Philosophers; and would be of great use, for the crossing these particular humours, gives birth to furious Passions and infinite Inconveniences. Cotys, upon receiving a very Noble Present of Beautiful, but brittle Ware, broke all the Vessels immediately, to prevent his being angry, whenever they should happen to be broken by any other hand. This is what I cannot much extol, by reason it plainly shown a distrust of his own Virtue and Resolution, and condemned him of Cowardice and Fear. He had therefore done a great deal better, in sparing that extravagant way of Prevention, and settling in his Mind a firm Resolve not to be moved at such an Accident, whensoever it should happen. 4. Curiosity, which makes us eager and inquisitive into things which we had much better live in contented Ignorance of. Thus Caesar, when upon his Victory, he took the Letters, and Memorials, and several other Papers of Consequence, written by his Enemies, burned them without ever examining what they contained. 5. Credulity, and easiness to receive every new Impression. 6. And above all the rest, a cavilling and captious Humour, jealousy of other People's Behaviour, and fancying they design Injuries and Affronts to us. This Indeed is very much beneath a Man of Spirit and Generosity, for how much soever it may seem to savour of Pride, and so indeed it does, yet this is a false Pride; and the Opinion of ones self at the same time, that it is more than it ought to be, is yet degenerate, and of a Bastard breed, mingled with meanness, and a little Soul; and therefore, wanting Solidity, for this self-conceit, and being conscious of some notable Defect, it exposes the Person yet more by this peevish and suspicious temper. For he that looks upon himself under the Contempt of another, is in some sense less than he; at least he debases himself, and becomes so either in Reality, or in Opinion, by these distrusts, and nicenesses in point of Respect. 
* Nemo non eo, à quo se contemptum judicat, minor est.  If therefore we would express a just and generous Sense of our own Worth, we should put any other interpretation rather than this, upon the doubtful passages of Conversation. Imagine them to proceed from Folly, or Indiscretion, an unthinking Gaiety, some defect in the Person, or what he did not observe, or could not help; if it come from our Friends, let us call it too great freedom, and the privilege they take upon intimacy with us. If from those under our own Government, we should not suppose they knew they did amiss; or ever were so stupid and foolhardy, to provoke a Person, who they know hath power to chastise and make them smart severely for their Insolence. If it proceed from mean and insignificant Fellows, we can neither receive any Dignity, nor suffer any Indignity from such hands. Our Honour is not at their disposal, and therefore we should not descend so low, as to be angry, whenever they please to provoke us. Agathocles and Antigonus made a jest of those that affronted them, and scorned to punish them, when they had them at their mercy. Caesar had a peculiar Excellence this way: Moses, and David, and the other celebrated Patterns of Virtue in Holy Writ have done so too. 
† Magnam fortunam magnus animus decet.  A great Post should have a great Soul to fill it. The noblest Conquest is to subdue ourselves, and to leave it in the power of no other Person to disorder us. Flying into Passion is a shrewd symptom of Gild; and a Consciousness, that we deserve all the indignities put upon us. He cannot be a truly great Man, who bends under another Man's ill treatment; a Conquest there must be on some side; for if we do not subdue our Anger, it will subdue us; and therefore the only way to preserve our Liberty, and our Honour, is to get above this rebellious Passion and 
† Injurias & offensiones supreme despicere.  look down upon the Tempests gathering below with scorn and Contempt.  
The second division of remedies consists of such as are fit to be made use of, at the time when any provocations to this passion are offered to us, and when we feel it is going to make insurrection. And these are, 1. keeping the body constantly in one posture, and not allowing ourselves in the least motion; sitting silent, and keeping our thoughts within our own Breasts. For any sort of agitation of our Limbs, Hands, Feet, but especially of the Tongue, sets the blood and humours presently into a ferment, and kindles a sire in the Soul. The beginning of contention is like the letting out of water, and it is the second word that makes the quarrel. 2. A prudent reserve; backwardness in crediting what we hear; slowness in resolving; allowing space to think and consider and state the merits of the cause, and suspending our determination and resentment till all this be fairly done: For could we once but bring ourselves to reason upon the point, we should presently give a check to this growing Fever. A Philosopher advised Augustus never to let his anger lose, till he had first repeated the Letters of the Alphabet; and some Christians have given the same counsel in effect, but better in the diversion they prescribe when they direct us to say over the Lord's Prayer, before we give any vent to the boiling passion: All we say and do in heat, should be shrewdly suspected and carefully watched, and therefore it is but fit we should make a halt 
* Nihil tibi liceat dum irasceris; Quare? Quia vis omnia lice●●. . Allow yourself in nothing when you are angry, because there is nothing so ill, which you would not at such a time be content to allow yourself. We ought to be afraid and extremely jealous of ourselves, for while our minds are in disorder, it is impossible we should do any thing properly and as we ought. Reason at such a time is entangled in the passions, and can do us no more service than wings do a Bird whose feet are fast in the Lime-twigs: we may flutter and struggle, but shall very hardly be able to extricate ourselves by all the efforts we can make; and therefore we should never trust ourselves, but take sanctuary in the company of some friend, and there mellow and compose our passions by his calm advice and wise conversation. 4. Another good expedient, when we feel the storm gathering, will be to divert and disperse it, by somewhat that is agreeable and entertaining; and in this case no diversion is better than Music to smooth and sweeten the passions, and by a kind of Sympathetick power to make perfect harmony and true concord in the Soul.  
The third parcel consists of some good considerations, which the Soul ought to be tinctured and throughly seasoned with beforehand. As first, a contemplation of the behaviour and wild disorderly motions of persons in passion, those indecencies and deformities which may very reasonably be expected to beget in us a mighty aversion to it. Upon this account some of the Philosophers advise angry Men to look in the Glass, and to satisfy their own senses how horridly these excesses disfigure them. Secondly, let us also fix our eyes and hearts upon the charming, the admirable beauties of meekness and moderation. Observe, how exceeding graceful and becoming a mild and sweet temper shows, how engaging to others, how beneficial to ourselves; for this well considered, would prove a powerful Loadstone, and attract the affections of all the beholders. This advice is more especially expedient for persons of quality and high rank, because fortune hath placed them on high, made them more conspicuous than the rest of Mankind, and therefore greater care should be taken to set off all their deportment with decency and to the best advantage: For as their actions are of greater and more general concernment, so their faults have a more pernicious influence and are less to be retrieved than those of common Men. Lastly, there is the regard we ought to have for Wisdom and virtue, that science which it is the business and design of this little book to train men up in; for indeed Philosophy and Religion show themselves in no one instance so much as in the command of our Passions, and the preserving our minds firm and steady and impregnable. We should raise our Souls up above this earth, and bring them to a temperament and disposition like that of the upper regions of the air, which is never darkened by clouds, nor agitated by storms, nor disturbed by thunder, but quiet and serene, and always the same. Thus neither should this Soul, this Celestial and divine part of us be blackened with grief, or disordered by anger, but kept in a gentle and uniform motion, considerate and slow, like the Orbs and Planets, which the higher they are the more softly they move, and are freer from Precipitation, as they approach nearer to purity and perfection.  
Now it is necessary to inform my Reader, that all these directions are to be understood of those inward resentments and disorders, which are kept close and cherished in our minds, and those heart-burnings which kindle a long and lasting fire in our breasts, and break out in uncharitable grudges, bitter hatred and aversion, and furious desires of revenge. For as to that other sort of anger which is outward and visible, that short blaze quickly in and as quickly out again, where there is no malice, no resentment left behind, and the only design of it is to make others sensible of their faults, whether our inferiors by chastisements and smart reproofs, or those upon the level with us, by expostulating with them and showing the injustice or indiscretions they have been guilty of; this is of infinite use, highly necessary to be put in practice, and exceeding commendable when rightly managed.  
It is much for the advantage both of ourselves and of those with whom we converse, to be thus angry upon some occasions, provided always we keep within the bounds of moderation and prudent conduct; and a little vehemence does well to awaken people into a better sense. There are a sort of people who value themselves upon restraining such resentments, and keeping in their passion as they call it; which though very convenient when we have our superiors to engage with, or such as we have reason to be very tender of giving any offence to, yet is no good rule for our general behaviour: They who boast of it, make indeed large pretensions to temper and government of their passions, and are mighty Philosophers in their own eyes and esteem; but yet they frequently burn and fret inwardly, and gain a Conquest upon themselves, which costs them more than the thing is worth: It were much better to give it vent, and let their resentments' flame out a little now and then, than that they should glow and torment them within. For this covering of our anger incorporates and makes it of a piece with our Souls, and the hasty Man is much rather to be commended when soon pacified again, than the fretful and morose, the sullen and the silent. If this weapon must wound somewhere, it were much more advisable to draw it upon others, and give them a slight hurt, than that the Point should be turned back upon ourselves and stab us to the heart. 
* Omnia vitia in aperto leviora sunt, & tunc perniciosistima, cum simulatâ sanitate subsidunt.  All vices are less dangerous when the effects of them are visible and apparent, but never so destructive as then, when they lurk secretly and impose upon us by an artificial and counterfeit virtue. Thus a sore skinned over and rankling underneath threatens ill consequences, and wounds are laid open to prevent a Mortification.  
And as these outward demonstrations of anger may be for our own case, so may they likewise be capable of doing great service to other people; upon such persons especially as will not suffer themselves to be persuaded and argued into their duty. For with Servants and those who are actuated by no other principle but fear, there is an absolute necessity of either feeling or at least putting on somewhat of warmth and resentments; otherwise all order would be lost, and nothing done under our inspection as it ought to be. But then those expressions of Anger must be sure to have these following qualifications: 1. The returns of them must not come too thick, nor be provoked upon every slight occasion; for use will harden those to whom they are directed; alterations are never to be made by any thing that is grown familiar; nor can we save that authority from contempt, which interposes with eagerness and violence upon trivial and insignificant miscarriages. 2. They should not be random-shot nor lost in the Air; not spent in fretting or vexing ourselves, or railing and reproaching them behind their backs, but discharged upon the person who gave the provocation, that he may feel the smart of his own folly. 3. They should be delivered gravely and pertinently, and carry somewhat of tartness and sting with them, without any mixture of Jesting or Laughing, that we may convince them of our being in very good earnest, and stir them up effectually to better care for the future, as well as punish them for what is already passed. In one word, this sort of Anger is in the nature of Physic, and it will be our wisdom so to time and so to apply it, that it may have a kindly Operation and work a thorough Cure in the Patient.  
The several Remedies prescribed here, though particularly insisted upon with regard to Anger only, will yet be very applicable and useful in the correcting of the following Passions.   

CHAP. XXXII. Remedies against Hatred.  
TO defend ourselves effectually from the insults of this Passion, we shall do well to bear constantly in mind that old rule of Epictetus, (and a most excellent and useful observation it is) That every thing hath two handles, and that every Man hath it in his choice, whether of them be will lay hold of it by; Take it by one and it will seem heavy and grievous, but by the other it will be light and easy to us. Let us rather be sure to take every thing by the better handle, and look upon it in the most advantageous light. That is, put the best and most favourable interpretation upon all that happens to us, and so shall we find by experience, that what we hate and find fault with hath a great deal to soften and recommend it to our acceptance. For Providence hath in infinite wisdom so ordered the matter, that there is not any one accident possible to us in this World, which a dextrous and skilful Man may not turn to some account. And even in that which gives us greatest offence, there is more subject for lamentation and complaint than there can be for hatred and just Aversion. He who does an ill or unbecoming thing to us, hath done the first wrong, and suffered the greatest damage in it himself: For he hath lost the use of his Reason and betrayed his own virtue, which are injuries so substantial that nothing we can suffer at second hand can be comparable to them. Let us therefore take this accident in another prospect, and view it there; let us give a fresh turn to our Passion, and change Hatred into Piety; let us take pains to make the persons who have tempted us to hate them worthy of our love and esteem. Thus Lycurgus is said to have dealt with a Man that put out his eye; instead of prosecuting so sensible an injury, he took another course of punishing him, which was by his severe remonstrances and good instructions to render him a virtuous, modest, and peaceable Person ever after.   

CHAP. XXXIII. Remedies against Envy.  
IN opposition to this fretful and tormenting Passion, let us consider and weigh nicely the nature of the thing we set so high a value upon, and grudge another the fruition of. We are apt to envy our more prosperous Neighbours, their Riches and Honours, their Preferments and the favour of Great Men: But all this is reasoning without Book, and want of attending to the condition of the purchase; we are not sensible how dear these things have cost their owners. Were this rightly understood, it is highly probable if they were offered to us upon the same terms, we should think it our wisdom to decline striking the bargain. Flattery and Attendance, Anxiety and Care, Sufferings and Injuries, Affronts and Repulses, loss of Liberty, and ungenerous compliances with the Passions and Pleasures of those we make our court to; Violations of Justice and contradiction to our own Consciences, these are usually the price such advantages come at: Thus much however is most certain, that there is nothing in this World worth the having which can be had for nothing. To hope for Wealth and Honour, a Plentiful Estate, or a gainful Office upon other Terms than they usually go at, is to desire that we may be made an exception to the rest of Mankind; to repeal an Universal Law; or at least to break and pervert a general Custom received and established all the World over: It is taking the Commodity and keeping our Money too. Why should you then who set up for the Character of Honour and Virtue be discontented, because you are not possessed of those advantages which are never to be acquired but by ignominious and reproachful methods, and must be bought at the expense of Modesty and Decency? If this be the case, these splendid appearances call rather for your Pity than your Envy: Either the Object of your Passion is a real Good, or it is not; if it be a fantastical and imaginary good only, it is beneath this resentment, nay it is inconsistent with it. For no Man is envious upon a supposition of a treacherous and deceitful outside, but upon an implication of substantial and intrinsic worth: But if it have this, and be a seal and solid good, then ought it to be matter of Joy and Pleasure. For the Laws of Humanity, and those of Christianity much more oblige us to desire, and take delight in one another's Happiness; and the exercise of this Virtue with regard to other people's satisfaction and good Fortune would be a very considerable addition to our own.   

CHAP. XXXIV. Remedies against Revenge.  
FOr the beating down this cruel passion, several Considerations may be of use to us; as first of all, That there is not any action of our Lives so truly honourable and glorious as that of pardoning and passing by injuries and affronts, nor any attaintment which requires greater skill than this to master and excuse it readily and gracefully. Every body knows but too well how to prosecute Wrongs and demand Satisfaction; but the remitting and receiving those that have done them into grace again, is a Glory reserved for Princes, and truly great Souls: If then thou wilt prove thy Sovereignty, show that thou art King of thyself, and do a truly royal act by forgiving freely, and extending thy kindness to those that have most justly merited thy displeasure.  
Secondly, Remember that this is of all others the noblest Conquest, to convince the World that thou art impregnable, and above the reach or resentment of injuries and Affronts. For by this means they all rebound back again upon the head of the Author; and like blows upon Anvils when they make no impression, only benumb and put the party to pain, who laid about him with such impotent malice and fury. To continue Revenge, is to give our Enemy the satisfaction of knowing that he hath hurt us; and he that complains declares himself worsted in the Controversy. So say the Moralist; 
* Ultio doloris confessio est; non est magnus animus, quem incurvat Injuria. Ingens animus & verus aestimator sui non vindicat injuriam, quia non sentit.  He that is impatient for satisfaction, acknowledges himself in pain; that Soul cannot be truly great, which bends beneath an Injury: A generous Spirit, and one that truly values himself, never revenges a wrong, because he is too big to feel the smart of it.  
You will reply perhaps, that it is very hard though to suffer Injuries and Offences; grievous in itself, and scandalous to the World; I know it very well, and therefore my Advice is, that you would not suffer them; but vanquish and get so absolute a mastery over them, that nothing of this kind should reach up to you. And this to be done in a fair and honourable way, by disdaining the thing and the Person that is guilty of it; or, if you please, advancing the Conquest higher still, and reclaiming him. Caesar was remarkable for both these good Qualities: No Victory is so , none so triumphant, as that which makes your Enemy buckle under you by kindness undeserved: That which lays him with his mouth in the Dust, and strikes him dumb at his own Baseness, and so shames his Spite into Friendship: For what can melt him, if this will not? What can deserve Laurels so justly, as the being thus invincible, and not suffering any Aggravations an Injury is capable of, to stop our hands, or get the better of Virtue and Reason? This indeed is a Resolution we should settle to ourselves, as considering, that the more grievous the Crime, and the bitterer and more implacable the Spite, the more fit it is for us to pardon it: And the better we could justify taking a severe Revenge, the more it makes for our Honour and Commendation, to take none at all.  
Remember how great a Contradiction it is to all Equity and Reason, that the same Person should be Judge and Party both in the same Cause; and yet this is an Absurdity, which every one that undertakes to revenge his own Quarrels unavoidably runs upon. This aught therefore constantly to be left to the Arbitration of a third Person, or at least a Man should never take it into his own hands, without advising with his Friends; following such measures, as they who are calm and indifferent Judges, think proper; and not leaning to the rash, and hot determinations of our own disordered Minds. The Old Poetical Fables have given us a beautiful Representation of this Matter, in their accounts of the Heathen Deities, and the Limitations of their respective Provinces and Powers. Jupiter, they tell you, hath a right to cast such Thunderbolts, as are favourable to Mankind, and portend good Events, by virtue of his own Despotic Authority: But when any Thunder is to be discharged upon wicked Men, and those Bolts are let fly, which carry Devastation and Ruin, and any sort of mischievous Effects; This he hath no right to do of his own head, nor without the advice and assistance of twelve Gods met in Counsel. This was a very significant Thought, and shown the importance of the Occasion; That even the Supreme of all the Heavenly Powers, who had unlimited Commission to do good to all the World of his own head, should yet have it restrained, and his hands tied up from hurting; so much as one single Person, till the matter and merits of the Cause had been solemnly debated. But the Reason couched at the bottom, deserves our attention: Kindness and Beneficence there can be no danger in, no mistakes, no excesses of this kind are pernicious; But when Revenge and Punishment come under Deliberation, this is so nice a point, that even the wisdom of Jupiter himself was not secure from all possibility of Error; and therefore an assembly of disinterested Persons was requisite to direct and moderate his Anger.  
And this Moderation and Temper is what every Man should make it his Business to acquire, and be well fixed in: Which with respect to the case now before us, is but another name for Clemency. For by that I mean, such a mildness and sweetness of Spirit; such an inclination to forgive and be kind, as curbs and holds in the violent Careers of Passion; and makes us move coolly and regularly. This will arm us with Patience, will convince us that we cannot be injured in reality, except from our own selves; and that for the wrongs others maliciously intent us, so much and no more will stick, as we fasten and bind upon ourselves by resenting the Provocation. This will secure us the good will, and affections of all Mankind; and will season all our Behaviour with that Modesty and Decency that cannot fail to render our Conversation innocent, courteous and agreeable, and universally desired.   

CHAP. XXXV. Remedies against Jealousy.  
THe only method of any Efficacy for avoiding this Passion, is to take care to deserve the advantage we desire. For Jealousy is little else at the bottom, but the distrust and misgiving of one's own Mind; and an Argument, that we are conscious of our own want of merit. When the Emperor Aurelius was asked by his Wife Faustina, what he would do, if his Enemy Cassius should win the Field, his answer was, I do not serve the Gods so ill, that they should have such an Affliction in reserve for me. So they that partake of another's Affection, and are tempted to any suspicion of losing it, will do well to silence such uneasy Suggestions, by telling themselves, The Regard I have for him is so sincere, that I dare be confident he will not rob me of a treasure I value so highly. An assurance of our own faithfulness, and deserving better usage, is the best pledge of our Friend's kindness and fidelity to us in return.  
He that pursues a Prize virtuously, will be content, that others should seek it in the same way. For this does but serve to awaken, and illustrate, and exalt his worth. Weakness only creates fear of Rivals, because this suspects, that when we come to have our merits laid in the balance with those of other Competitors, our Imperfections will be more distinctly seen, and we shall suffer by the Comparison. Whereas otherwise, if you take away Emulation, you eclipse the honour of Virtue, and quench the most powerful Incentive to good and gallant actions.  
As to that particular kind of Jealousy between Married Persons; the Counsel expedient to be given on the Man's part seems to be this. That if any reproach happen to them from the disloyalty of their Wives, they should recollect, what great and renowned Fellow-sufferers they have had in this Calamity; who yet bore it with exemplary patience, and made no words of their Misfortune. Such were Lucullus, Caesar, Pompey, Cato, Augustus, Antony, and a great many besides. But you will say, the World hath discovered your shame, and it is grown common talk. And pray, who is there, that the World does not talk of to their prejudice, more or less, whether they have any ground for such Discourse or no? How many Persons of Honour and Virtue have you yourself heard branded with the infamous Title? If you make a bustle, and blaze abroad your Disgrace, the Ladies will only have the advantage of the better Jest. And the commonness of this Affliction one would think, should long ago have worn out all the uneasiness of it. But however, put the worst of the Case, that you are in reality the thing you suspect; yet how is this a just Calamity? it is no reflection upon your Virtue, or your Wisdom; the World is most unreasonable and absurd in loading the innocent Person with Infamy, and rendering that ridiculous, which is in no degree a Fault. But if they will proceed by wrong measures, your own breast should follow those that are right and equitable. Nay, even in respect of others, there is some remedy left still: For it is in your own power to render your Virtue so illustrious, that it shall stifle and swallow up this Misfortune; and make your name never mentioned, among Wise and Good Men at least, with one whit the less Esteem. They will cover your Infamy by their just Commendations, and curse the wicked occasion of it; who is so much the more profligate, and abandoned, despicable and detestable, for using a Good Man ill.  
As to the Women, they are not so easily satisfied, because their very Nature seems more disposed to Suspicion and Curiosity. But the best Advice I can give them, is to dissemble any apprehensions of this kind; which is the true and prudent Medium between two very vicious and foolish Extremes. The one, that silly tormenting of themselves, which devours their Spirits, destroys all their satisfaction, and flies out into transports of Fury and Rage. The other, that tame Negligence practised in the Indies, and some other Eastern Countries; where Wives use their utmost endeavours to advance the honour of their Husbands (which is there thought to consist in the number of Wives and Mistresses) or their satisfaction, or the increase of Posterity, by turning Bawds and Procurers. This is a piece of service, which I think they might very well be excused. But when all is done, the only cure for this Evil on both sides, is such an affectionate and discreet, such a modest and reserved Carriage, as shall minister no manner of occasion for calling the fidelity of either Party into question.     


CHAP. XXXVI. Temperance, the fourth Cardinal Virtue.  
Of Temperance in General.  
TEmperance is capable of a double Signification: Sometimes it is taken in a general Sense; for Moderation, and that Temper, which we commonly say should be preserved in all manner of things whatsoever. In this comprehensive Interpretation, it does not denote any one Virtue in particular, but the Complex of them all in common; and is that quality, which seasons and gives a relish to good actions of every sort. In this Latitude we are under perpetual obligations to it, but chief so, in those matters, that admit of Controversy; and engage us in Differences and Disputes. For the due observance of it thus understood, there needs but this single Direction, of laying aside all personal and self-ended Considerations, and make it our entire business to stick close to our Duty. For all lawful and commendable Affections are temperate; Hatred, and Anger, and Cruelty, are excesses much beyond the limits of Justice and Duty; and are only second-hand Remedies, necessary to be used upon them, who refuse to be kept to their Duty by the power of Reason, and the softer arts of Persuasion.  
But when this Term is used in a more restrained Signification, than it imports a check and regulation of things pleasant and delightful to Sense; and such as our natural and carnal Appetites eagerly long after, and are gratified by. At present we extend it a little farther, for the Rule and Measure of a Man's Duty in all kinds of Prosperity, as Fortitude was said to be in every sort of Adversity: So that Temperance supplies the place of a Bridle, and Fortitude that of a Spur; this checks our Carcer of Gaiety, that quickened our sluggish Fears, and roused us out of Despondency. With these two in Conjunction, we are able to manage that brutal, and restiff, and wild part of us, which consists of the Passions; and shall not fail to demean ourselves well and wisely, in every condition, and change of Fortune: Which is in truth the very sum and substance of Wisdom, and the very perfection I desire my Reader should aspire to.  
The general Object then of Temperance, is all manner of Prosperity; every thing that is pleasurable and gay, but especially and more peculiarly Pleasure, which this Virtue regulates and retrenches. All that part, which is superfluous and unnatural, and vicious, it pares quite away; and that which is natural and necessary, it keeps within due measures. Thus we find it described by an Old Author, 
* Voluptatibus imperat, alias odit & abigit, alias dispensat, & ad sanum modum redigit; nec unquam ad illas propter illas venit; scit optimum esse modum cupitorum, non quantum velis, sed quantam debeas.  Pleasures are her Province and proper Dominion; over these she presides, and exercises her Coercive power. Some she detests and utterly discards, others she corrects and distributes in their just proportions. She never chooses any merely for their own sakes, and the best measure of gratifying our Appetites she declares to be, the taking not so much of any of these Objects, as we have an inclination to, but so much only as is fit for us. This is the authority and superintendance of Reason over those eager and violent Affections, which carry our Wills towards Pleasures and sensual Delights. The curb of our Soul, the instrument to scumm off those Ebullitions, which by the Heat and Intemperance of the Blood are apt to boil over; that so the Mind may be preserved uniform, and in consistence with Reason: And not debase itself, by submitting, and accommodating its measures to sensible Objects, but preserve its rightful Superiority; and force them to serve and suit themselves to the Dictates of the Mind. By this we wean our Souls from the childish delights of the World, and qualify them for a more substantial and generous sustenance. In short, it is a Rule, that squares all things by the proportions of Nature, Necessity, Simplicity, Ease, Health, and Strength, and Hardiness: For these are things that commonly go together, and they are the measures and bounds which Wisdom sets out. As on the other hand, Art, and Luxury, Superfluity, Variety, Multiplicity, Difficulty, Sickness, a weak and tender Constitution, bear one another company, and are the usual attendants of Intemperance and Folly. 
* Simplici curâ constant necessaria, in delicijs laboratur. Ad parata nati sumus: nos omnia nobis difficilia faciliam fastidio facimus.  The Necessaries of Life come cheap and easy, all the Labour and Toil is about the Delights and Entertainments of it. Nature intended we should take up with such things as she hath made ready at hand; and designed to free us from trouble; but we have created it to ourselves, and made Life one perpetual difficulty, by nauseating and disdaining every thing that is easy.   

CHAP. XXXVII. Of Prosperity, and Advice thereupon.  
THat Prosperity, which comes to us leisurely and regularly, in the usual Course of the World, and a common concurrence of visible Causes and Effects, (as particularly by our own Industry, or Frugality, Prudence and good Management; or by eminent Accomplishments and Deferts) is abundantly more stable and safe, and less exposed to the Envy of other People; than that which drops, as it were, into a Man's mouth, and is let down from Heaven upon him, to the surprise of all that know him, and beyond the very utmost of his own most Sanguine hopes.  
Prosperity is a State of infinite hazard and danger: As soon as ever this fair Gale gins to blow, all that is light, and empty in the Soul, is immediately carried up with the breath of it. Nothing hath so pestilent an influence, to stupefy and ruin Men, and make them forget themselves: They perish, and are spoiled, like Corn born down by a full Ear, and Branches broke with excessive quantities of Fruit. And therefore it is necessary, a Man should be sensible what slippery ground he stands upon, and look to his steps accordingly; but especially he should beware, that he be not carried to Insolence and Contempt of others, Pride and Presumption with regard to himself. These are Vices so incident to Mankind, that the least Temptation will suffice for them. And as some People (according to the Proverb) will be drowned in two foot of Water; so there are some too, who upon the least smile of Fortune, swell and look big, scarce know themselves, and are intolerable to all their Acquaintance. Of all the Pictures of Folly, which the World can furnish us with, this seems to be drawn most like the Life.  
From the unsteadiness of Mind it is, that we are able to give a rational account, why Prosperity should be so very short and uncertain, as generally we find it. For Persons in this Condition are for the most part ill-advised, and this Inadvertency makes frequent and quick Revolutions; changes the Scene from Joy and Grandeur, to Calamity, and Sorrow, and Want; alienates the Affections of Providence; provokes Almighty God to take back again what Men make such ill use of. To all which we may add the secret and undiscernible Reasons of his Dispensations, or, to express the thing in a more secular Phrase, that Inconstancy of Fortune, which from a fond Mother changes her humour unaccountably to all the Severities of a cruel and cursed Stepmother.  
Now the properest Advice upon this occasion, is for a Man to restrain and moderate his Opinions and Affections of the good things of this World; not to esteem them too highly, nor imagine himself one whit the better or the worse Man, for the Enjoyment or the Want of them; and the natural Consequence of this so low Valuation will be, not to desire them with any degree of vehemence. If they fall to his Lot, to accept them as the Gift of a bountiful Master; and to serve him with them thankfully and cheerfully; but always to look upon these, as foreign and additional Advantages; no necessary, no inseparable part of Life: Such as he might have been very well without, and such, as, while he hath them, are not to be made any great account of, or suffered to change the temper of his Mind, either higher or lower. For, 
* Non est tuum fortuna quod fecit tuum. Qui tutam vitam agere volet ista viscata beneficia devitet, nil dignum putare quod spears. Quid dignum habet Fortwa, quod concupiscas?  What Fortune hath made yours, is none of yours. He that will live safe and easy, must decline those treacherous Baits, those Limed twigs of Fortune. For what hath she in her disposal, worth engaging our desires, or fixing our Heart and Hopes upon?   

CHAP. XXXVIII. Of Pleasure, and Directions concerning it.  
BY Pleasure I understand a Perception, or Sensation of that which is agreeable to Nature; a delightful Motion or tickling of the Senses; as, on the contrary, by Pain is meant some disagreeable Sensation, which produces Sorrow, and is grievous to Nature. But those Philosophers, (as the Sect of the Epicuraeans in particular,) who resolved the chief Happiness of Man into Pleasure, and paid it greater Honour than we think fit to do, took it in another Signification, and extended the thing no farther than a privation of Grief or Uneasiness, such as they thought sit to express by Indolence. According to their notion, humane Nature was capable of rising no higher, than the not being uneasy. This is a sort of middle State, a Neutrality between the first and vulgar acceptation of the Word, and Pain: And bears the same Proportion, with regard to this Life, which some Divines have thought Abraham's Bosom does to the next; A Condition between the exquisite Happiness of Heaven, and the extreme Torments of Hell. 'Tis a sweet and peaceable sedateness of Body and Mind; an uniform, constant, and fixed Pleasure; which carries some resemblance to that Euthymia, or tranquillity of Soul, which other Philosophers esteemed our chief Good: Whereas the other is an active and sensible Pleasure, full of vigorous and sprightly motion. At this rate, there would be three distinct Conditions, of which Mankind are capable; two in extremes, Pleasure and Pain; which are neither stable nor durable, but both of them sickly, and in excess; the Mean between them firm, and sound, healthful and permanent; to which the Epicuraeans attributed the name of Pleasure, (and such indeed it is, when compared with Pain) and placed the supreme happiness of our Nature in it. This unhappy Name brought that general scandal upon their Sect, which the opposite Parties of Philosophers insult over with so much Pomp and Triumph. For after all, (as Seneca with great Ingenuity confesses,) there was no hurt but in the Name; no offence, but what was merely Titular; for to those who will be at the pains of a nice Examination into their Lives and Manners, it will appear, that none ever advanced Doctrines of stricter Sobriety, none were greater Enemies to Vice and all manner of Debauchery, none more distant from those Reproaches to a rational Soul, than the Men of this Profession. Nor indeed was it without a fair appearance of Reason, that they gave this name of Pleasure to that so much exalted Indolence of theirs. For this Titillation of the Sense comes at last to this, and seems to make it the ultimate end and aim of all the more feeling satisfactions we find in it; as for instance, the delight we find in Meats and Drinks, pretends to nothing more, than to deliver us from that torture and those eager cravings, which Hunger and Thirst had brought upon us; and, by satifying the Appetite, to place us in a Condition of Ease and Repose, till the same Wants return again upon us.  
The learned World have behaved themselves very differently upon this occasion. They have determined very peremptorily on both sides, and, (as is usual, with hot and positive People,) have both over-shot the Mark: Some have perfectly adored Pleasure, and exalted it into a Deity; others pretend the greatest Detestation of it, and expose it for a Monster: They start and tremble at the very Name, and cannot allow it to import any thing but what is full of Gild, and a Scandal to humane Nature. Those who condemn it without more ado, proceed to Sentence upon these following Considerations. They tell you, that it is, First, a short and transitory Enjoyment, a fire of Thorns, kindled and extinct in a moment, especially if it be vigorous and exquisite; for in proportion as you add to the Degree, so much you take off from the duration of it. Secondly, That it is a nice and tender thing, the least Accident corrupts and embitters it; that a drop of Pain will sour an ocean of Pleasure. Thirdly, That it is mean and base, attended with shame, and attained by those parts of our Body, which Nature hath placed out of sight, as if she were out of Countenance at the gratifying our own Inclinations. This however is true but of some Pleasures; for there are some, which affect Pomp and Ostentation. Fourthly, That we are quickly cloyed with it. Men are form in such a manner, that their Constitutions will not bear the long continuance of any exalted Pleasure. There is a certain Impatience attends it, and we soon grow weary of what we most eagerly desired but just before. Whereas, on the contrary, Nature hath made us hard and tough, and able to weather out very long Pains, as hath been observed formerly: This short Pleasure too, is often followed by long Remorse; it produces monstrous Mischiefs, and is more fruitful in nothing, than in the ruin of single Persons, and Families, and whole Countries. But the fault they insist most upon, is, That, when Men are most intent upon gratifying it, it does so entirely possess and tyrannize over them, that it usurps the whole Man, and will not so much as admit Reason to interpose, or share in the Entertainment.  
On the other hand, the Advocates of Pleasure plead not guilty to this Indictment, and allege in defence of their Cause; That Pleasure is natural, created by Almighty God himself, and contrived for the good of the World, made subservient to the Preservation and continuance of his Creatures, Nature, which is the Parent of Pleasure, seems convinced of its necessity, in that all the actions, by which Life is sustained, are seasoned with, and recommended by it. And yet all Philosophy hath allowed, that the way to live well, is to follow the Dictates of Nature. God placed Man, during the state of Innocence, in a place and condition richly, furnished with vast variety of Delights: And the very name given by Moses to Paradise, is in the Hebrew Language Pleasure: And not only so, but, 
Eden.  if we raise our Eyes and Thoughts above this World to the highest perfection, which Religion bids us aspire after. What are the felicities of the Saints above, but a lasting, and uninterrupted Series of Pleasure? They shall be filled with the Pleasures of thy House, and thou shalt give them Drink out of thy Pleasures, as out of the River, says the Psalmist, when he would describe the Satisfactions of the holiest Men. These, I confess, do not mean those gross and carnal Satisfactions, which this Term is abusively made to denote; but it ought not by any means to be confined within that compass, as if nothing that is truly generous and great could be intended by it. These things ought to be included, when we speak in vindication of Pleasure; and the other have no reason to be disdained, when regulated by Equity and Reason. And, accordingly we find, that the most renowned Philosophers, and acknowledged patterns of Virtue, such as Zeno, Cato, Scipio, Epaminondas, Plato, and the Immortal Socrates himself, did not think it below them to taste the Comforts and Diversions of Life; nay, descended so far, as even to Discourse, and writ Tracts of those, which some now by an affected nicety, pretend to accuse, (as you have heard,) and would in their mighty, but mistaken zeal for Virtue, fain banish out of the World, under the odious Character of Pleasures of Sense.  
Since therefore Wise Men have been so much divided in their Opinions upon this Subject, it will be necessary for us to proceed cautiously; and to distinguish these Pleasures into their several sorts; without which we shall never be able to come to any just and true Resolution of the Case arising hereupon; nor satisfy ourselves, which are lawful Pleasures, or how far any are so. First then, we must take notice, that some Pleasures are natural, and others unnatural; This Distinction being of all the rest most important to our present purpose, will be considered more particularly by and by. Some again are pompous, and showy, nice and difficult; others are silent and secret, easy and ready at hand. Pleasure is not ambitious of Splendour and Observation, but esteems her own solitary Enjoyments, Wealth enough, without concerning herself what other People think of her; and enjoys herself more in Retirement, than in the eye of the World. Those again, that are so very easy, as to be always at our command, grow flat, and nauseous, and lose all their relish, except there be now and then a little Uneasieness or Obstruction, to set an edge upon our Appetite. There are likewise spiritual, and corporeal Pleasures: The ground of which Distinction is not any real Separation capable of being made between them; for Pleasure of every kind affects the whole Man; and extends to every part of the Composition; and one part hath not any one resentment peculiar to itself, which the other does not likewise share in; nor can have while this intimate Union of Soul and Body continues the present Life to us. But that which is the true foundation of this Distinction, is, that there are some Sentiments, which affect the Mind, more than they do the Body, and may therefore very fitly be called manly Pleasures; as being more proper to us, better suited to our Faculties and powers of Perception, than they are to those of Beasts; And, as they are more worthy in respect of the Faculties they are commensurate to, so are they likewise more steady and durable. Such, for instance, are those Satisfactions, which enter at our Eyes, and Ears; for these two Senses are the Doors of the Soul, and the Objects they receive, only pass through there, in their way to the Soul; which entertains, feeds upon, and digests them, and finds long Refreshments and Delights from them. But the Body tastes but a very little part of these Satisfactions: Others again, the Body ingrosses almost wholly to itself; such as those of the Touch, and the Taste; which are more material, and of a courser Composition: Such as Brutes keep us Company in. And such Pleasures are received, performed, and finished, by the Body, and its Organs. The Mind hath no other advantage in them, than by Reflection only; and what must needs belong to it, while it continues an assistant and Companion to the Body. And these are short, and transient, the crackling of Thorns, the flash of a Meteor; born, and bred up, and dead in a moment.  
Now the main thing we are concerned to know upon this occasion, is, how it will become us to behave ourselves in the fruition and government of our Pleasures. This is the Lesson, that Philosophy pretends to teach, and the particular difficulty Temperance makes provision against. And here first, we ought to put a very great difference between natural, and unnatural Pleasures: By the unnatural, I do not understand those only, which are contrary to Nature, and such usages as the Laws have established and approved; but even those which are the most natural of all others, are comprehended under this Title, in case they degenerate, and run out into Superfluity and great Excesses. For these things are not within the Verge of Nature, for She concerns herself no farther, than merely to supply our Necessities and real Wants, which (however) we have leave to enlarge a little, and that we may not complain of scanty measure, are free to consult Convenience and common Decency. For Example, it is a natural Pleasure, to be sheltered by a good tied House, and to have our Nakedness covered with good warm ; for these secure our Persons from Wind and Wether, and bitter pinching Blasts; and are some defence against the attempts of wicked Villains. But now, that those  should be of Tissue or Embroidery, or that House built of Jasper and Porphyry; this there is no occasion for, and the satisfaction which would result from their being such, is not any natural Pleasure. Again, they may be unnatural, if they do not come to us in the way, and method of Nature; as, if they are sought with Anxiety and Industry, procured by Artifice, prepared by Medicines, or any other Stratagems of humane device and invention, to create, to heighten, to force, either the Appetite, or the Pleasure by which it is gratified. So they are likewise, when form and beaten out originally in the Mind, by the strength of imagination, or the violence of Passion, and so are afterwards communicated to the Body; which is just inverting the order of Nature: For the usual Course is, that Pleasure should begin in the Body, and from thence pass on to the Mind. And indeed, as that Laughter, which is forced by Tickling, is not natural nor pleasant, but rather a convulsion and violence upon Nature; so that Pleasure, which is courted, and industriously contrived, kindled up first in the Soul, and from thence descending to the Body, is not a regular and natural Pleasure.  
Now the first Rule, which Wisdom would prescribe with regard to Pleasures, is, to condemn, and utterly abandon all the Unnatural, as Vicious, and Spurious; and to allow and entertain such as are Natural. For, as those who come to a Feast without any invitation, should be turned home again; so those Pleasures, that obtrude themselves upon us, without even being bidden by Nature, are to be looked upon as Busybodies and Smell-feasts, and either denied entrance, or thrust out of Doors again. But neither may we think ourselves at liberty, to entertain the true Guests as we please, for even these must be treated by Rule, and with Moderation. And thus you have the Duty and Business of Temperance in general laid before you at once; The whole of which may be reduced to these two good Offices; excluding all unnatural Pleasures, and regulating those that are natural.  
Now the Regulation of natural Pleasures will depend upon the due Observance of these three Rules. 

First, That whatever we indulge ourselves in, be no way Offensive, or Scandalous, Injurious or Prejudicial to any other Person. For where any of these is the plain and natural Consequence of the thing, we must forbid ourselves the fruition of it, and seek out some more innocent and unexceptionable Entertainments.  
Secondly, That this Liberty be not to a Man's own Prejudice, by impairing his Health, casting a Blemish upon his Reputation, devouring his Time, encroaching upon his Duty, or being disagreeable and unbecoming his Office and Character in the World.  
Thirdly, That even those, which are clear of all the former Inconveniencies, be taken in due measure and proportion; and our Affections moderated with regard to them. As we are not to act against the grain in all we do, so neither must we lay any of those things which are most with it, too close to our Hearts; we should neither court our Pleasures, nor run away from them; neither be averse to them, nor dotingly fond of them: But take their Sweets, as we do that of Honey; a drop or two upon the Tip of our Finger, not lay it in by whole handfuls; not engage too deep in them, I mean, nor make them our Business, and the main design of Life; much less intoxicate and lose ourselves in them. For these are additional Comforts, Recreations and Diversions only, to render our Continuance here easy, and give us a better relish of Life; to refresh and recruit our Spirits, and sustain them under the Fatigues of a troublesome World: As Sleep is intended to make us forget our cares a while, and inspire us with new vigour; that we may return to our work again, and be more sprightly and fresh in Business. In a word, they are made to use, and not to live upon. But especially, we ought to be very vigilant, and guard ourselves strictly, against their deceitful Insinuations: For many of them are bought at too dear a rate, and do us more hurt, than all their satisfactions can ever compensate. They leave a Sting behind, and create lasting Remorse, and great Disquiets of Heart: And this is done after a very subtle and treacherous manner. They put themselves forward, and amuse and cheat us by some present Gratifications, but hid the Hook that lies under this Bait. They put on the Face of Friends to cover their murderous Intentions; caress and embrace us with a seeming tender Affection, but hug us so close with a design to strangle us. Thus the Pleasures of Intemperance go before the Pains and sick Qualms of it; and thus do the generality of those Delights, which heat of Youth is so prone to, and plunges itself so unwarily in. Then we venture in over head and ears, but when we are drowned in them, the Infirmities of Old Age succeed; and then they forsake us quite, and leave a miserable Spectacle behind them, as the tide of Ebb does its Nuisances and Carcases upon the Shore. The delicious Morsels, which were swallowed so greedily, turn to Gall and Choler upon our oppressed Stomaches, and end in Repentance, and bitter Reflections. And the Dregs of our foul and polluted Enjoyments stick fast to our Souls, and, by their poisonous corroding quality, infect and corrupt our Dispositions, and settle into ill habits, and inveterate Diseases.    
Now, as Moderation and Regularity in our Pleasures, is a most decent and beautiful, a most useful and profitable thing, agreeable to the Laws of God, the design of Nature, and the dictates of Reason: So on the contrary, Extravagance and Excesses of all sorts are odious and deformed, hateful to God and Man, and the most destructive that can be, both to the public Good, and Men's own private Interest. Pleasure unduly taken softens and enervates the Soul, enervates and preys upon the Body, makes Fools of the Wise, and Cowards of the Brave. What a lamentable instance of this was Hannibal, whose Courage was more broken by the Luxuries of Capita, than by the rugged Passes of the Alps, or all the Efforts of the Roman Armies? This gave occasion for the Lacedæmonians, who denounced open War against all manner of Effeminacy, to be called Men; and the Athenians, who were soft, and delicate in their way of Living, to be reproached with the Nickname of Women. When Xerxes undertook to punish the City of Babylon for a Revolt they had made, and to secure himself against any danger that might come from that Quarter for the future: The Method he took, was to bring all the Exercise of Arms, and other laborious and fatiguing Practices into Disuse; and to let lose all manner of Pleasures and sensual Delights among them, with free Liberty for every Man to revel in these without Check or Control.  
Secondly, It banishes all the bravest and most Heroic Virtues from the Mind, where it hath taken possession; for these are serious and severe, considerate and hardy, and cannot be endured by a Master of so contrary a Temper; nor indeed were it possible for them to live under so effeminate and disssolute, so careless and unthinking a Government.  
Thirdly, It quickly degenerates, and sinks into its contrary Sentiment, which is Pain and Uneasiness, Dislike and Remorse. As the Freshes run apace to the Sea, and lose the sweetness of their native Rivers, in Tides of Salt Water. Thus the honey of Pleasure in the Mouth, upbraids the Eater, and turns to the Gall of Pain upon the Stomach. 
* In praecipiti est, ad dolorem vergit, in contrarium abit, nisi modum teneat: Extrema gaudli luctus occupat.  All exquisite Pleasure stands upon a ticklish point, and all its generous Taste is upon the turn; sours, and changes, and is swallowed up in Pain; the very moment it rises to excessive Joy, Grief dwells upon the confines, and one step beyond its own bounds, brings you into this troublesome Neighbour's ground.  
Lastly, It is the Seminary of all manner of Mischief, and final Ruin. This is the Lure to draw us in, and when we are once in, we stick at nothing: This is the conveyer of secret Intelligences, the betrayer of Councils and Trusts, the contriver of Treasons, and underhand Designs against the Peace and Safety of Mankind. In short, the love of Pleasure ruins private Persons by Prodigality and Injustice, dishonours and stains whole Families by Debauchery, and shameless Lewdness: Propagates Diseases, and entails Beggary upon Children yet unborn; corrupts public Justice; murder's Kings, overturns Governments, and scatters Confusion and Misery over the face of the whole Earth. Thus much may be most justly said of Pleasure in general, which being now sufficiently enlarged upon, we will proceed to consider the several kinds of it in particular.   

CHAP. XXXIX. Of Eating and Drinking, Abstinence and Sobriety.  
THe true design of Meat and Drink is Nourishment: To sustain the Infirmities, and repair the continual decays of the Body; and a moderate, natural, and agreeable use of them satisfies and maintains it, makes it a serviceable instrument for the Mind; whereas on the contrary, all unnatural Excesses weaken and overwhelm it, draw on grievous and noisome Diseases, which are the just and natural Punishments of Intemperance. 
* Simplex ex simplici causà valetudo; multos morbos, supplicia Luxuriae, multa fercula fecerunt.  Health is a plain and simple thing, and requires a cause of the same kind to produce it: Distempers are many and various, and nothing contributes more to them, than variety of Dishes, and high Feeding. When Men complain of their Head for so many troublesome Defluxions, and those Humours which fall upon the Vitals, and lays the foundations of the most dangerous Diseases, they should do well to remember, how justly the Brain might return upon them, that old saying, 
† Desine fundere, & ego desinam fluere.  Do you give over pouring in, and I will give over pouring out. While we are perpetually filling the Vessel, how is it possible it should not overflow? But alas! these Considerations are now grown quite out of fashion. Excess and Pomp, Variety and nice Cookery, are come into Reputation. We have learned to esteem our Meals, and to measure our welcome, by the number of Dishes, the different sorts of Meats, the height of the Sauces, and the superfluity of the Entertainment. Nay, so prodigious is our Vanity, that after we have set more before our Friends, than can be wholesome for them to taste of, or fit for us to spend, we make solemn Excuses for our want of Provision, and are sorry we have nothing better to receive them with.  
How exceeding prejudicial, both to a Man's Body and his Mind, full Meals, and the jumbling several sorts of Meat together, Curiosities and Qualques Chooses, and high Dressing are, every one might easily be convinced by his own Experience. Gluttony and Drunkenness are gross and paltry Vices; they discover themselves, and sufficiently publish their own Shame in the Countenances and Gestures of the Persons addicted to them. The best and least forbidding whereof is a dozed, and heavy look; and indeed, the best Quality such Men can have, is to be stupid and dull too. For certain it is, no Man yet, who is a slave to his Belly, was ever capable of doing any glorious or considerable Action. And, generally speaking, we find them trifling and insignificant Fellows, if not down right Beasts and Sots. But Drunkenness especially hath these cursed Effects, and bushes Men upon the basest, the most extravagant, and unaccountable actions in the World. Of which Alexander is a miserable Instance, though otherwise a wonderful Prince; who in heat of Wine killed his old dear Friend Clitus, and when he came to be sober; had like to have killed himself in Revenge. In short, what can be said bad enough of a Vice that robs the Mind of Understanding, and the Body of Sense; makes grown People Children again, and Men of Wit mere Naturals, and drivelling Fools?  
Sobriety therefore, which preserves us from these nauseous and detestable Excosses, deserves our good Esteem for its Effects at least. For although it be none of the most exalted Virtues, nor exceeding difficult to be mastered, by Men of any tolerable Sense, yet it leads the way to several other Virtues, and promotes many excellent Qualities. It chokes and crops our Vices in the very Bud, and intercepts the Provisions, by which they should subsist. It is the Mother of Health, and the best Physic for all manner of Diseases; and the most probable insurer of long Life. Socrates owed the vigorous and confirmed Health he enjoyed purely to Abstemiousness. Masinissa, who was a Pattern of it to all Kings of after Ages, begot Children at Fourscore and Six years Old, and won a Battle of the Carthaginians at Ninety Two. Whereas Alexander, who had naturally one of the best and strongest Constitutions of any Man that ever lived, killed himself with Drinking in the very Flower of his Age. Several Persons (as Atticus particularly) who have been given over by Physicians, of the Gout, and other Distempers, looked upon to be incurable, have been perfectly recovered by Abstinence, and a sparing regular Diet. And what can we desire more for the Body, than a long, and a healthful Life? What can recommend any Virtue to Men fond of the World, if this will not? But than it is of equal advantage to the Soul too. For by this means our Heads are kept clear and unclouded, our Faculties awake and sprightly, we are capable of thinking, and fit to be advised. All the very great Men in Story have been particularly eminent for their Sobriety; not only Philosophers, and such as made pretensions to a strict and severer Virtue, but all that have been Excellent, and whose Names live upon Record, for any sort of Greatness whatsoever. Such were Cyrus, and Caesar, the Emperor Julian, and Mahomet. Such was Epicurus too, who, though a professed admirer of Pleasure, and run down as a Scandal to Philosophy for espousing it, was yet famous for these abstemious Virtues, above any of his Accusers. The Curij and Fabricij are more celebrated in the Roman History for their frugality and simplicity of Diet, than for the greatest and most glorious Conquests they ever won. And though the Lacedæmonians wanted neither Courage, nor Success, nor a Reputation equal to both, yet the Character they valued themselves upon, and pretended most to, was that of strict Discipline, Frugality and Sobriety.  
Now this is a Virtue which must be fallen in love with betimes; Youth is the proper time for embracing it; while it can be called a Virtue; while we have more opportunities of gratifying our Appetite; and while that Appetite is keener too. For how wretched is it, how ridiculous, to take Sanctuary here in our old Age, when we have made ourselves living Hospitals, and are all over Aches and Pains? This is a folly, like that observed in the Athenians.; who are said never to have asked a Peace, but in Mourning Weeds, for their Friends and Relations slain in Battle; when all their Men of Note were lost, and they no longer in a condition to defend themselves. This is what our English Proverb calls 
* Sera in sundo parsimonia.  Shutting the Stable-door when the Steed is stolen; and turning good Husbands, when we have brought our Noble to Ninepences.  
It will be very adviseable, not to use ourselves to delicious and artificial Meats, for fear our Body should by degrees come to relish no other, and suffer for the want of them. For in truth, these make our Appetites humoursome, and give us both a false Hunger, and a deceitful Nourishment. These may feed our Diseases and ill Humours, but the plainer and courser our Diet, the truer strength and more kindly Nourishment it imparts. These therefore we shall do well to accustom our Palates to, if we would secure our Ease and Health: For they are easy and every where to be had; and so our desires are not like to be disappointed when we want, and they are also lightest of digestion and most agreeable to Nature when we have them.   

CHAP. XL. Of Luxury and Excess in Apparel, and their contrary Virtues, Frugality and Modesty.  
Clothing was observed in the beginning of this Treatise, to have been none of those things which are natural and necessary, nor to have been originally in use with Mankind; But it is merely artificial, invented for our convenience, and in request with no other Creature in the World. Now it is usual with all Inventions to increase and multiply; every day refines and improves them still more, till at last there is no end of their Variety. Multiplicity is the certain Character of Art, as Simplicity is of Nature. The consequence then of Apparel being Artificial, is that it runs into infinite Fantastical forms, and differs in proportion to People's Fancies and Humours. Accordingly we find, that the greater part of Tradesmen and Handicrafts Men deal in such Commodities and Manufactures as are converted to the defence and ornament of the Body. But it were well if this only were regarded; for from hence they are come to such Extravagancies and Abuses, that our Garments are no longer a covering to our Defects, and a supply to our Necessities, but a nest of Vanity and Vice 
* Nîdus Luxuriae.  These are the great occasion of Quarrels and Disputes; for the distinction of property seems to have begun in this point: When things were most in common, every Man had a peculiar title to the  he wore, which is intimated by the French Language in particular, expressing all manner of Rapine, by Stripping, Dérober; and the English Word Robbing, is very probably an Allusion to the same thing.  
This Vice hath always been most remarkable in the Female Sex, and if it be not entirely theirs, the Scandal is the greater to those Men who descend so low: For there is not in the whole World a surer sign of a poor and little Soul, than this striving to recommend one's self, and gain respect by such despicable means as Dress and Rich : None will insist, none depend upon these Ornaments but they who have no other. How wretched a thing is it to consider the Care and Cost laid out upon Luxury and Show, and the general neglect of those shining Habits of the Mind; that Virtue, that Bravery which should enable us to make a beautiful Appearance, and set us off in real and solid Excellences? The Lacedæmonians prohibited any but common Women to wear gay and sumptuous ; this was looked upon as the mark to distinguish such infamous people by; but the Ladies of Reputation desired to be known by their severe Honour a●● shining Virtues.  
Now the true an● lawful use of Apparel is to keep out Wind and Wether, and all other severities and inconveniences, which our Bodies would suffer by being exposed to the open Air: And it is a great fault to divert the thing from this to other vain and Sinful purposes. In order to answering their proper end it is plain, Clothes need not, they ought not to be expensive; for the richer they are, the less are they qualified to defend and secure our ease: But then some regard must be had to Decency too, and distinction of Qualities; all which may be done with Gravity and frugality, observing the just medium 
* Nec affectatae sordes, nec exquisitae munditiae.  between affected Slovenliness and effeminate Nicety. Caligula made himself ridiculous by the softness and Fantasticalness of his Habit; and Augustus was as much admired and commended for the Modesty and Gravity of his.   

CHAP. XLI. Of Temperance with respect to Carnal Pleasure; which is, Chastity, or Continency.  
COntinency is a Virtuo of very difficult Practice, and requires an exceeding strong and vigilant guard over ourselves: For all our perfections of this kind are so many violences upon nature and inclination, which are not in any case to be withstood without much Toil and Painfulness, and very obstinate Resolutions, but in this before us especially; because here the propensions to Vice seem to be strongest, and the Solicitations to it more frequent and importunate than in any other instance whatsoever.  
But still the greater the difficulty of this Conquest is, the greater is its Commendation, and the more just and glorious its Triumph. And very necessary it is, that every Man should rally his Forces and engage manfully in this War with himself. Continency is allowed no positive Virtue, and imports no more than a Man's governing and restraining himself so far as not to act contrary to his Duty. It produces no fruit, but consists in privation and a forbearing to act; and therefore Virginity must always imply Barrenness. This is the case of Continency considered abstractedly and in its own nature, which at this rate is of no higher a Class in the scale of Virtues than the abstaining from Gluttony and Drunkenness, or any other sort of Vicious Excess. But if we consider it in a Christian and more exalted Sense, than it imports a great deal more: for thus there are two concurring Qualifications which make it a very noble Virtue; the one is a settled purpose to continue in it pure and unblemished, with a  Mind and mortified Affections, no less than a Body holy and undefiled: The other, that this be done for Religious and Excellent ends, to gain greater advantages of becoming Singular, and exemplary in Piety and all manner of goodness. For (as St. August in says,) It is not the Single State that we commend in Virgins, but their Abandoning the World, and Consecrating their Souls and Bodies entirely to God: Witness the Vestals of Old, and the Five Foolish Virgins in the Parable, whose Celibacy stood them in no stead at all. And here I observe by the way, how Absurd a Vanity and Popular an Error that is, which in common speech calls the Ladies who have no blemish upon their Reputation, and who either are  in the Single Life or Faithful in the Married one; Women of great Virtues and great Honour. Honour! For what? Is Honour sunk so low, that the mere not doing evil and not violating one's Duty in the most Scandalous instance must pretend to that name? Why do we not by the same Reason style those Men of Honour who are under the same Circumstances? Nay, there would indeed be more Reason for this than the other, because the manner of the World puts more Opportunities of offending in these respects, and exposes Men to stronger Temptations, than Women are liable to. But in truth, Honour is so far from being a Recompense due to the abstaining from evil, that it is not every sort of good, which when punctually performed can lay claim to it; but (as was said before) those kinds and degrees of good only which bring advantage to the World, and which, besides their being beneficial, have cost great toil and trouble, and been achieved with considerable difficulty and danger.  
But besides; how few of these Continent persons arrive even at a common and very practicable Virtue? How many of them do we find scandalously tainted with other Vices, and making up for this self-denial by indulgences to some more darling Humour or Passion? Particularly, how exceeding few are there who escape the Temptations to Vanity and Presumption, and Spiritual Pride, and while they take marvellous Content in their own perfections are very liberal in their Censures and Condemnations of other People? Does not experience frequently convince us, how very dear some Husbands pay for the Fidelity of their Wives; who while they dispossess the Devil in one part of their Souls and preserve their Honour entire, do yet erect a Throne for him, and let him reign Triumphant in another? If then this Virtue beget insolence and Malice, Censoriousness and Imperious Pride, it is like to turn at last but to very poor account. And thus clogged will very ill deserve the name of Virtue, whatever it might be allowed otherwise: Not that I am over scrupulous, or would stand with the Sex for a Compliment; and therefore, provided the flattering them with this title of Honour, will contribute any thing to the making them more tender of it, and encourage the Modesty and Decency becoming their Sex and Condition, I shall be content to promote the discharge of their Duty at any rate, though it be by straining a point to gratify an useful Vanity. But to return; It is likewise observable, that Incontinency when simply and strictly considered, like other faults which are what we call Corporeal, and tending to gratify the Carnal inclinations of Humane nature, hath no mighty Malignity in its own single self; (it being only an excess of what is natural and not contrary to Humane nature,) but then there is a train of vices so black and hideous attending it, and some or more of them so inseparable from it, that the danger of being entangled in those snares is infinite, and the consequence very fatal: For this is one of those sins that never go alone, but is accompanied with other Devils more and more wicked than itself; tainted with base and villainous circumstances of persons and places, and times prohibited and unpardonable; Intrigues carried on, and beastly satisfactions contrived by the wickedest methods; Lies and Tricks, and all manner of Deceit; Subornation and Forswearing, and Treachery; to all which we may add that which is by no means inconsiderable; the loss of Time, the distraction of Thought, the interruption of Business, and other unbecoming Follies, which draw very great and just Scandals, and insupportable mischiefs after them.  
Now because this Vice hath every Quality that can render an Enemy formidable, since it is both violent and deceitful, and attacks us at once with open force and secret stratagems, our Care must likewise be double; First to arm and prepare ourselves for the Combat, and then to watch diligently the approaches, observe its Feints, and be well ware of those baits and wheedling Insinuations which are laid on purpose to decoy us into Ambushments and Ruin: And the more these inclinations sooth and cajole us, the more suspicious we must be, and turn the deaf Ear to their flattering importunities. Among other Considerations therefore fit to be opposed to such Temptations, these that follow may not be improper to reflect upon: That another person's Beauty is nothing at all to us, what we can never call or make our own; That it is no certain happiness even to them who have it, but turns as often to their prejudice, and is at least equally disposed to do so as to their Advantage: That in short, it is a flower always withering and in decay; a very small and fanciful thing, little else but the outward skin, nay less than that, the Colour and Complexion of it only; And therefore, if in this we would admire the delicacy and skill of nature let us prise it here, as we are wont to do those much more astonishing Beauties of the Sun and Moon, for their Excellencies and the good influences they shed. When we enjoy this Beauty, and have made it our own property by fair and honest means, let us even then remember that this is a very low and mean satisfaction, so far from being peculiar to the dignity of Humane nature, that Brutes all partake and are most of them supposed to exceed us in it; That the immoderate use of Pleasure wastes the Body, softens and effeminates the Soul, enfeebles and darkens the understanding: That a world of people have fallen miserable Sacrifices to their inordinate Lusts, some in the loss of their Lives, others of their Fortunes, and others of their Senses, but the Reputations murdered by it are innumerable. Consider again, that there is more honour, nay, I will add more pleasure too, in vanquishing these desires than in complying with them. And all the transports of fruition are flat and dull, nauseous and insipid, in comparison of those ravishing satisfactions which overflow in our Souls, when we have gained a virtuous and noble Conquest over ourselves. And this is the general Sense of Sober Mankind; for there is no one Action in the Life of Alexander or Scipio, in which their Historians so justly glory, as that of the treatment they gave to their beautiful Captives, and the tenderness for their Honour, which the Fortune of War was generally thought a privilege to violate. This Continency and Conquest of themselves is more highly commended than all their successes, and hath more engaging Charms than the fairest of their Prisoners could ever boast of. These I say, are Considerations pertinent and proper enough, but it cannot be expected they should have a constant efficacy: For this Vice abounds with Sophistry and cunning, and as it will not be reasoned with sometimes, so at other times it will not be safe to go about it; And therefore in cases of violent Assaults, the best course will be to betake ourselves to our heels and get lose from the Temptation. And it is very observable, that the Holy Ghost which bids us in all ordinary cases Resist the Devil, 
Jam. 4.7.  with a promise that he shall flee from us; yet when he mentions Youthful Lusts, the advice is, that we would flee from them. 
2 Tim. 11.22.  Debates as well as delays are dangerous here, the Cause must be referred to a Judge under shrewd suspicions of Corruption; and therefore the safest Issue we can make is to throw it out and never give it the hearing. Business, Recreation, Company, any thing to divert this stream of our Thoughts and Affections into another Channel: There can be no difficulty in the Choice; for in such cases the worst Company a Man can possibly be in is to have none but his own.  
Now we are to observe, that both the Virtue of Continency and its contrary Vice is of several kinds and different degrees: The chief and that which I shall speak to at present is the Conjugal sort, that mutual and inviolable Fidelity between Man and Wife, which, as it was the first and highest Obligation, so is it the most sacred, the most important, and that which both Public Society and Private Persons are deeply and inevitably interested in: And therefore this aught to be held in the most Profound Veneration and Esteem; and not suffered to become the Jest and common scorn of profligate Lewdness; the Diversion of a Theatre; or the boasted Triumph of a Man of the Town. The Parties concerned in these holy Engagements must have no Affections, nor cherish any desires beyond the  Embraces of each other; but utterly Abandon the very wishes of stolen and unlawful delights, and be content to Drink the Waters of their own Cistern; 
Prov. 5.15.  and the running Waters of their own Well; that is, pure and innocent, unpolluted and untroubled delights of a faithful and lawful Marriage; as the Wise Man expresses it, according to the usual significancy and extraordinary decency of the Scripture Stile. They that allow themselves in other liberties, fall into the blackest and most complicated guilt imaginable; they violate and Sin against their own Bodies, by making them Vessels and Instruments of Uncleanness and Dishonour; they transgress against all manner of Laws which any Man can be bound by. The Laws of Revealed Religion which forbidden us to prostitute ourselves to silthiness and shame, and have commanded the strictest purity of Conversation; the Law of Nature, which forbids the invading another Man's property; and the tenderer the right is to him, the more detestable is the injustice; the Law of Reason and Equity, which enjoins fidelity and steadfastness to promises and mutual Contracts; the Laws of the Land, which have Established Marriages as the only conveyance of Right, and giving a Title and Propriety in such cases; the undoubted Rights of Families, by grafting in a foreign growth upon the natural Stock, injuring the other Children, and transferring the fruit of a Man's Industry, his Acquisition or his Inheritance, to Strangers and Interlopers; the Laws of Justice and Charity, by starting difficulties and Disputes among Friends and Relations; alienating the Affections of Parents from their Children, and dissolving in great measure the Duty of Children to their Parents, when there are these Jealousies among them; and leaving a lasting and indelible stain upon the Unfortunate (though innocent) Posterity of so suspected a Race.  
As to the other parts of this Vice I add only in one word; that though Adultery be the highest, yet it is not the only Violation of it; Men would therefore do well to see how many Aggravations of this kind just now mentioned concur in any of those allowances they make to themselves; to lay aside the bias of their present Passion, and even in cases of simple Fornication, ask their own Consciences how they should like to have the honour of a Sister or a Daughter so injured by another person; and if they think but scurvily of such a blemish in a near Relation, this at least makes the gratification an offence against Reason and Equity, and natural Justice; nor is it in such circumstances for a Man to allege that the partner of the crime is no other Man's, it is enough to Condemn him that She is not his own.   

CHAP. XLII. Of Ambition, and Temperance with regard to the Desire of Honour and Fame.  
THat this is a Desire which stands in great need of being tempered and restrained, no Man can suffer himself to doubt who at all considers the inordinacy of the Affection, the injurious courses it bushes the Patient upon, and the infinite mischief it does to society, when the Reins are let lose and we give it its head. But though the free Range of this Affection be so pernicious, yet we ought to take notice, that (according to what hath been formerly delivered upon the same occasion) all Ambition, all thirst either of Honour or of Reputation is not to be condemned without any distinction, but that as it may be ordered and managed, there is a great deal of good as well as hurt in the thing. For thus much may undoubtedly be alleged in its behalf, that it is of very great advantage to the State; since as the World now goes, the generous and public spirited Actions are most of them owing to it. This bushes Men on to hazardous Attempts, and thus we find it hath ever done; for, even among the Ancients, it is not to be supposed that all their so much celebrated Heroes were acted by a truly Philosophical Spirit. There were indeed your Socrates, and Photion, and Aristides, and Epaminondas, your Cato's and Scipio's, who seem to have been Charmed by the bright Ideas of Virtue, without any the least mixture of additional and mercenary Considerations; but then there were a great many more who were manifestly moved by other Springs, such as Themistocles, and Alexander, and Caesar, who courted Fame, and were led on by the prospect of Greatness and Renown. And, though it be very true, that the Gallant Exploits of such Persons when nicely examined, and considered with regard to their proper Motives and the principles their Authors went upon, be not, strictly speaking, the product of Virtue but of Ambition only; yet still they must be acknowledged of general use and benefit, and the consequences of them to the public in all respects the very same, as if the inducements had been the most refined and perfect that Humane nature is in any Case capable of. Now besides the force of this Consideration to commend it, the Philosophers have allowed it to be excusable at least upon two occasions; the one is, when the Actions it excites Men to are profitable and good, but not in a degree of perfection eminent enough to pretend to the title of Virtuous; because they lie in common to all Mankind, and the good or ill dispositions of our minds incapacitate, no person from excelling in them. Of this kind particularly are Arts and Sciences, Humane Inventions, Military Courage, and all manner of Industry in general: The other is, when we find it necessary to preserve the favour and good Opinion of some person upon whom our interest depends; for though it be a standing rule in Philosophy, never to make the Opinion of others the measure of our Behaviour, yet there is this reserve, and allowed Exception, that we may govern ourselves upon such principles, to avoid the inconveniences which either the want or Contempt of other Men's approbation may happen to involve us in.  
But indeed for a Man to practise Virtue merely upon this account, and aim at Honour and Reputation as if this were the proper wages and recompense of doing well, is not only a very vain and erroneous, but a most dangerous and destructive principle. This were a horrible disparagement indeed, that Virtue should be rendered so precarious as to derive all its value from hence, and to engage our Affections upon no better Considerations than what are drawn from the judgement of the World: Every body must needs discern the courseness of this Alloy, and that such payment ought not to pass upon us. Virtue certainly is not yet so debased as to go a begging, and desiring testimonials for a subsistence. This reward is much below her seeking; and therefore we should so fix our minds with true and noble Ideas of her, and settle our affections so firmly upon the thing itself, that this accidental lustre of the honours attending her may not dazzle the Eyes of Reason, but leave us still the Discretion, to make a difference between receiving these as acknowledgements due for our good Actions, and propounding them to our minds, as the end and adequate Reward of them: So shall we be established upon a true bottom, and proceed upon resolutions sincere and immovable, such as will stand like so many Barriers about the Soul, and guard it against the vain assaults of vanity and Ambition, and every mean and selfish inducement.  
A Man should be thoroughly persuaded of the sufficiency and self-satisfaction of Virtue, that it asks no Nobler a Theatre to represent its excellency in than one's own Gonscience; this is spectator and audience enough, and if this applaud the Action the matter is not great who discommends it. The higher the Sun is above the Horizon, the less shadow it casts; and the more Sublime any Man's Virtue is, the less affectation of Honour and Fame it is attended with. Nor is the similitude improper, if we consider the nature of the thing: For Glory is in earnest a very shadow, it follows those that fly from it, and runs away from those that pursue it. We should always remember who sent us hither and what we are doing. That Life is a Play where the parts are infinitely various, but no Man chooses what he will act; he acquits himself well who studies the humour of the part assigned him, and performs it agreeably to its Character, or (as Epictetus says upon another occasion,) that we live in this World, as People sit at an Entertainment, where every well mannered Man will be content to feed upon that Dish which the Master of the Feast helps him to, without reaching over the Table, and scrambling and snatching from other People's Plates. If then a Preferment, or some Office of Honour and Trust be offered to us, if we are capable of discharging it, let us accept it gladly, but modestly too; and let us do the duty of it faithfully and sincerely; assuring ourselves, that God hath set us our Post; and that by committing to us a public Trust, he expects we should stand Sentry, and be continually upon the Guard; that by our vigilant care those who are committed to our charge may sleep securely. And for all this Laborious Attendance, let us propose no other Recompense or Commendation, than that only of our own Consciences; and the sweet satisfactions of doing what becomes us; or if others do, (as without question, they will) see and approve our Good works; let us desire, that the Testimony of our having done well, may be graven in the Hearts of our Country, rather than published by Statues, and pompous Frontispieces, and long flattering Inscriptions. In a word, let this be a Principle with us; that the Fruit of noble, generous Actions cannot possibly be lost; that the glory of having done them is an ample Compensation: And that, when Virtue descends to go out of herself, and look abroad for a Reward, she undervalues her own worth, and must take up with things beneath her. To despise Greatness, and expose the vanity of setting our Hearts upon it, is no such mighty matter. He that loves himself, and can make any tolerable Judgement of Happiness, will be content with a moderate and easy Fortune; the Stations that are at the top of Mankind, as they excel in Dignity, so they exceed in Harms, and Difficulty, and Trouble; and those that are at the very bottom, tormented with Poverty, and anxious uncertainties of Subsistence, are equally to be declined. Here is too much Business, or too much Suffering, for any Man of sound Wisdom to wish, none but sickly Palates will be fond of either. Otanes, one of the seven, who had a joint Right to the Principality of Persia, quitted his Pretensions to the rest of the Competitors, provided that he and all his Family might live quietly under that Government, and be free from all Subjection, except such as the old standing Laws obliged them to. This was truly great, neither to affect to command, nor bear to be commanded; and other instances of contemning Honour and Greatness, we have several in Story; for even Dioclesian divested himself of the Empire, and Celestine quitted the Papacy; so little have the Charms of Sovereignty itself been sound upon Trial, and so far from impracticable is the utmost pitch of the Virtue opposite to Ambition.   

CHAP. XLIII. Of Temperance in Speaking.  
THough the government of the Tongue do not usually come under this head of Temperance, yet all People, I suppose, will allow, that there is not any instance, in which Moderation is more useful and necessary; and that this is so essential a part of Wisdom, that no Treatise upon this Subject can be tolerably complete without it. He that offendeth not in word, the same is a perfect Man, (says St. James,) and the Reason is evidently what he gives there at large, that the Tongue is all in all: Good and Evil proceed from it; Life and Death depend upon it. 
Book I. Chap. 23.  Which being formerly illustrated at large, all that lies upon me to do more at present, is only to lay down some short and plain Directions, for our Conduct and good management of so very important a Member.  
Let our Discourse then be sober and sparing, the knowing how and when to be silent is a mighty advantage, and contributes exceedingly to our knowing how to speak; for he that is unskilful in one of these Points, can never be expert in the other. To talk much and to talk well are Qualities that seldom or never go together; and therefore one of the Philosophers made it his Observation, that the most accomplished Men, are generally they that say least. Those that abound in words, are commonly barren both in good Sense, and good Actions; like Trees, which when they shoot in great quantities of Leaves, bear little Fruit; or lean Corn that runs all into Straw. The Lacedæmonians, (of whom we have made so frequent mention, for their noble improvements in Virtue and Valour,) were no less memorable for Silence, and made this one part of their solemn Profession, to Educate their Youth in a modest and reserved way of Conversation. So justly, so generally is this sort of Restraint approved and commended; so necessary, so prudent, that Prayer of the Psalmist, that God would enable him by his Grace, to set a Watch before his mouth, and keep the door of his lips. An Emblem of this we have in the Mosaical Institution; where, among many Typical representations of Moral Duties this seems to be one; That every Vessel was unclean, which had not a Cover fastened to it: And the wisest Author that ever wrote, hath left us this Mark to distinguish Men by, The Heart of Fools is in their mouth, but the Tongue of the Wise is in their Heart.  
A second Qualification absolutely necessary upon this occasion, is Truth; without this the end of Speech is utterly perverted and lost. For Speech was principally designed to be assisting to Truth, in bringing others to the knowledge of it, by representing every thing in its native and proper Colours; and discovering the mysteries of Error and Deceit; that being thus detected, they may no longer have it in their power to misled our Judgements. For what indeed is Speech, but a Key to our Thoughts? An instrument of communicating what we feel, and see, and desire, and so of transfusing our whole Hearts into the bosoms of them with whom we converse? Now this makes it obvious to every considering Man; that Fidelity and exact Truth ought to be an inseparable attendant upon every Word we utter; for there is no other method of conveying our Intelligence; no other Glass in which we can see one another's Souls; and therefore it is as much as all the benefits of Conversation, and Commerce, and this noble Prerogative of Mankind is worth, to take care, that the Mirror cast no false Reflections. He that falsifies in his Discourse, aught to be treated as a common Enemy; detested as a Traitor to public Society; For if when once this Footing fails us, we have no fresh ground to stand upon, all Faith and Security is given up, and we know not where to have Men, nor what to make of them. How vile the Sin of Lying is, hath been declared before. 
Chap. 10.  They who practice it out of design, are of all wretches the most profligate and despicable; and they who do it in Raillery, should consider how insolent a thing it is to banter and abuse the Credulity of Mankind; and that Truth and mutual Faith are things much too serious and too weighty to be made a Diversion, and sacrificed to the itch of an unmannerly Jest.  
Thirdly, Our Expressions should be Natural and Modest and ; provoking no blushes, offensive to none, even the most nice and purged Ears; our Discourse free from Vehemence and Contention; for in such cases Men seem to be more concerned for themselves than for the Truth; and to speak, not so much the reason of the thing, as their own Passions. Speech was designed for a mutual Comfort and Improvement; to inform and mend Men's Minds, not to corrupt and seduce them, And therefore, as Artifice and Affectation is nauseous, so Indecency and Lewdness, and every thing that tends to Obscenity or Licentiousness, is wicked and abominable.  
Fourthly, Our Discourse should be serious and significant, profitable and advantageous; not trifling, and impertinent and vain. The little Tattle of the Town, what is done at the Court, or the Park, or the Playhouse; how People were dressed, and how they behaved themselves; repeating idle Verses, scraps of Plays, and little foolish Jests, and telling frivolous Stories; though they make up so very considerable a part of modish Conversation, are yet, (to speak freely,) signs of a great poverty of Thought, and have more of the Buffoon, than of the Man in them. He that provides no better Entertainment for his Company, than all this amounts to, is at a very low Ebb; and shows, that he hath spent a great deal of time to very small purpose. How very little hath a Man to do, that employs himself at this rate: And what precious account does all that leisure turn to, which hath been laid out upon qualifying himself for so noble and accomplished a way of Discourse? Under this head of Trifling and Impertinence, I think we may very well reckon that Folly of entertaining Company with long accounts of ourselves, and our own Affairs; what Feats we have done, or what Calamities we have suffered; for of what consequence soever these things may be to us, they are of none at all to the Persons we tell them to; except it be to give them a taste of our Folly, and from a dislike of our Conversation, to avoid the same absurdity in their own. We fancy, because these Accidents are pleasing to us, that they are so to them; but alas! the difference of Persons should be considered; for to render the Story agreeable to tell, there needs no other Recommendation, than that ourselves are at the bottom of it; but then the very same reason renders it as nauseous to the Hearer, not only because he finds no Concern of his own there, but from that natural Aversion and Disdain we bear to Men, who are always big and full of themselves, and have the vanity to suppose, that whatever relates to them is worthy to be the Concern of all they converse with.  
But especially, we should be careful not to transgress this Rule of profiting others, by running into the contrary extreme of Injurious or Offensive Language; For Speech is in the very original intention of it, an Instrument, and Harbinger, a Reconciler, and Uniter of Mankind, and therefore, to apply it to any purposes contrary to these, is to abuse, and pervert the nature and design of it. This Consideration was never more necessary than now; and, if applied to the modern way of Conversation, would soon convince us, how vainly those Persons pretend to Wit, and Sense, and Honour, whose whole Discourse consists of Slander, Detraction, Mockery or Reproach, sacrificing the reputations of the absent to an ill-natured Jest; or exposing and ridiculing their Defects, by Mimickry, and Buffoonery; all which are infinitely unbecoming the Character such Men aspire after, and a Diversion too base and barbarous for any Wise or Good Man to allow himself in.  
Our Discourse should be Easie and Pleasant, Courteous and Entertaining; not Rough and Harsh, Difficult and Troublesome. For this reason it will require some prudence in the Choice, or the declining of our Subject. We should contrive, as much as possibly we can, to start nothing but what will keep our Company in good humour; never to engage in Controversies, where any that are present shall find themselves concerned; for this either disobliges, if they think fit to let the Argument fall; or else it draws them into Disputes, and occasions Warmth, and Uneasiness; and perhaps Coldness, and angry Resentments afterwards. But, though there should be no personal Interest in the case, yet nothing of Controversy in general should be industriously begun; for common Discourse is not the proper season for that. If the Question be Substantial and of great Concernment, the respect of a private Conference is due to it; but if it be some nice and subtle point, it is not worth so much as our common Talk. Such Questions have been aptly enough compared to Crabfish, of which some are all Shell, and when we have taken great pains to open, and prepare them for our Palates, nine parts of ten must be thrown away, and a very poor pittance remains fit for Eating. Their difficult and abstruse Speculations raise a Noise and a Dust, but when we examine what account they turn to, little comes of them, but Heat, and Calmour, and Contradiction.  
Our Expressions should be strong and clear, our Arguments sinewy and full; not lose, and flat, and languishing; and therefore we should observe and avoid the formality of Pedants, the stiff-set way of Pleaders, and the impertinent Affectation of the Ladies.  
This particular sort of Temperance extends likewise to one very necessary Virtue, which I think may not unfitly be called the Continence of the Tongue: That I mean, of keeping Secrets; which, though already spoken to in the Chapter concerning Fidelity, 
Chap. 8.  I thought not improper to make another mention of here. And the rather, because I take Secrets here in a more large and comprehensive Sense; so that the Virtue at present prescribed, does not only oblige us not to disclose those things, which were committed to our Trust, under the Seal of Secrecy; but also to suppress, whatever in Prudence and our own Discretion, appears unfit to be divulged. All that is dangerous, or of ill consequence; all that can any way reflect upon our own, or be injurious to another's Reputation. In a word, so strict a Guard, so steady a Conduct in all our Conversation, that our Tongue may not outrun our Judgement; and that neither our own Consciences, or those we keep Company with, upon the severest and most impartial Recollection, have cause to accuse us, of saying any thing which was not fit to be said. This is of greater Importance, and needs to be more diligently attended to, than People seem generally well ware of; and yet it is no more, than every Man's own Reflections upon the indecent Gaieties, and unthinking Freedoms, in Conversation, and the many ill Effects and hard Censures these produce, may soon convince him of: And satisfy him, not only of the Beauty and Comeliness, but of the safety and great advantage there is, in a modest and cautious reserve. While the word is kept in, it is entirely our own; but if it once break lose from us, it can never be retrieved; we have lost all our Property and Jurisdiction, and must stand to the courtesy of the World; who will make what use they please of it, and very seldom are just or good-natured enough, to make the right use, or to understand it as innocently as we intended it.  
Now as the advantage of Speech in general is an Excellence peculiar to Mankind, and sets us above Brutes; so Eloquence exalts those that are Masters and Professors of it, above the rate of common Men. For this is the Art, or Science of speaking, a more accurate and exquisite way of Communicating our Thoughts; of enforcing and adorning Reason: This is the Rudder of the Soul that steers and turns Men, and sets us at the Helm of our Audience, to carry them whither we please: It falls in with the Heart, and secretly moves our Passions, like the Chords in Music, which, in a skilful Composition, conspire together to make a more perfect, and delightful Harmony.  
By Eloquence I mean, all that is necessary to make an accomplished Orator. For this does consist, not only in perspicuity, and purity of Expression, the Elegance and Propriety of the Words, the happy Choice and regular Disposition, the fullness and roundness of the Period, and the justness of a sweet and musical Cadence; but it must also be assisted and strengthened by other Ornaments and Graces, and Motions of the Person himself: Every Word should be inspired with Life and Vigour; first, by a clear and sweet Voice, a proper and distinct Pronunciation, rising and falling, gently and easily, as is best accommodated to the matter and design: Then by a grave and unaffected Action, where the Countenance, the Hands, the whole Body, the every part and gesture speak as well as the Mouth, all follow them ovements of the Soul, and give a lively Image of the Affections within. For the Orator is the Representative of his Audience, and must first of all in his own Person put on the several Passions, which he labours to infuse into others. 

* 
— Si vis me flere, dolendum est—  
Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent,  
Telephe.— Hor. de Art Poet. ●   We weep and laugh as we see others do:  
He only makes me sad, who shows the way,  
And first is sad himself; then (Telephus)  
I feel the weight of your Calamities,  
And fancy all your Miseries my own.  Ld. Roscom.  
It is in such cases with the Standards by, as it was with Brasidas and his Enemy, who drew the Dart out of his own Wound, with which he stabbed him to the Heart. Thus Passion is first conceived and form in our own Mind, then born and brought into the World by apposite Expression, and afterwards, by a subtle and quick Contagion, conveyed into others, and begets its likeness there. By this short Reflection it sufficiently appears, that Men of soft and gentle Tempers, are not cut out for Orators. Their Spirits are too sedate and sluggish to communicate any powerful Impressions. They want the Force, and Fire, the Sprightliness and Activity, that is necessary to animate what they say. And when such Persons would display the most masterly beauties of Eloquence, they languish and falter by the way, and drop short of the Mark. Thus Cicero reproached calidius, who accused Gallus with a sneaking Voice and languishing Action, by telling him, that his Coldness and Indifferency betrayed the falseness of his Charge. But when a Man hath all that Vigour and Ornament touched upon before, his Words will be as strong and compulsive as the Commands of a Tyrant, with all the Pomp and Terror of his Guards about him. They will commit an irresistible Violence upon the Soul; not only persuade and draw, but drag his Auditory whether they will or no, lead them in Triumph, and establish to themselves an Absolute and Arbitrary Dominion over the Minds of Men.  
It may perhaps be objected in prejudice of Eloquence, that all this Skill is needless; since Truth alone is sufficiently powerful and persuasive, and stands in need of no studied and artificial Practices, to vindicate, or to recommend it. And indeed, were the Minds of Men free, and pure, unprepossest with Passion, or Interest, or any other prejudicated Opinion, the Objection must be allowed to have a great deal of weight in it. But we are to consider and deal with Men, according to the state we find them in; a state of Corruption and Prejudice, in which Art, or Nature, Misinformation, or ill Habits have bribed and biased their Affections, and made them draw the wrong way, and bend them violently against the Truth. And thus they come to require a sort of Treatment, very different from that, which is most agreeable to their original Constitution. As therefore we are forced, first of all to soften and open the pores of the Steel by Fire, that it may afterwards receive that Liquor which tempers it, and grow harder in the Water: so the warmths of Eloquence are necessary to put the Spirits in motion, and by rendering the Minds of Men more supple and pliable, to give them a stronger and more lasting tincture of Truth. This is the true and proper design of Eloquence; and the end it should constantly aim at, is, to fortify and protect Virtue against Vice, Truth against Falsehood, and Innocence against Calumny and false Accusation. The Orator (says Theophrastus') is the true Physician of Souls, and his business must be to Cure the Venomous Bitings of Serpents, by the Charms of his Music; that is, The poisonous Slanders, and false Insinuations of wicked Men, by the harmony of Reason, set out to the best advantage. But since there is no possibility of cutting off ill Men from the use of this advantage too, since they will be sure to seize and usurp the Weapon, for the more effectual Execution of their mischievous Designs; we are the more concerned not to go into the Field Naked, but to beat them at their own Weapon, and with equal Industry and Skill to Counter-work them; that so Virtue and Truth may not be circumvented, or tamely lost, for want of proper Preparations to defend it. Several indeed have abused their attainments of this kind to very villainous purposes, and made Eloquence the instrument of Ruin and Oppression to private Persons, and whole Communities of Men. This is a melancholy Truth; too manifest to be denied. But then the Consequence of grancing it must be, not to despise or set aside the thing, upon the account of any ill Effects, that have followed upon the misemployment of it. No, This is a Misfortune common to every thing, that is useful and excellent; for none of these are so necessarily confined to Goodness, but that they are capable of being perverted to very great Evil. Nature hath provided them with an Aptitude and Efficacy; but it will depend upon the Disposition of the Person that manages those Powers, what sort of Effects those natural Abilities shall be applied and determined to. For even that Reason and Understanding, which is the peculiar Prerogative of Humane Nature, and sets us above Brutes, is most miserably abused; turned against God and ourselves, and made the occasion of our more inexcusable Ruin; but this is only an accidental Misfortune, far from the natural tendency of so noble a Privilege. And he, who would argue from hence that Mankind had better want these Faculties, may justly seem to have degenerated into Brute, and to be forsaken of all that Reason, which he so wildly and so rashly condemns.      
FINIS.  

ERRATA.  
PReface, Page 6. line 11. read Probity. p. 23. l. 10. r. as well as. In the Account of the Author, p. 2. l. 15. r. improving. Lib. 1. p. 97. l. 8. r. diposed. p. 209. l. 9 r. the. p. 227. l. 5. r. deforms and defaces. p. 315. l. 21. r. washing. p. 332. in Note r. mers est. binocentes.