The Five Days DEBATE AT Cicero's House IN TUSCULUM. Upon 

1. Comforts against Death.  
2. Patience under Pain.  
3. The Cure of Discontent.  
4. The Government of the Passions.  
5. The Chief End of Man.   Between Master and Sophister.  
LONDON, Printed for Abel Swalle, at the sign of the Unicorn at the West-end of St. Paul's, 1683.   

TO THE READER.  
IT may seem advisable to give some short account of the ensuing Work to obviate such Exceptions as are likely to be made against it in this censorious Age. That it is a Translation, is owned, which infers no more, than that all the World speak not the same Language; but if Sense be common, and Wisdom not ingross'd by any Age or Place, then must it withal be concluded, that Interpretation is beneficial. This Book was never hitherto made English, yet in its own Tongue hath been still reputed among the choicest Pieces of Humane Learning; and sure in Discourses of this Nature, the intelligent Reader doth not value Tully by the elegancy of his Style, but soundness of Judgement, and orderly deduction of Arguments. True Philosophy being a ray of right Reason, shines equally in all Languages; yet is more effectual, when managed by a Master of Elocution in earnest, as concerned in the very Cases which he Debates. The Author of this Treatise, famous for admirable Parts, had, by his industry and success in pleading Causes, attained to great Wealth and Honour; but upon alteration of the Government, was obliged to retire to his Seat at Tusculum; where the Scene of his Five Days Debate is laid. The Subject, matter of highest Importance, suitable to the gravity of his Person, and occasion of the times. Cicero aged sixty years, and beset with many State-Enemies, put himself on this guard, against the approaches of Natural Death, or surprises of an Assassinate. These Consolations supported him under the affliction of his Daughter Tullia lately deceased in Childbed. He that had formerly ruled the Bar by the Power of his Eloquence, and sat Prince in the Roman Senate, having withdrawn himself from the Insolence of a Victorious Army, diverts his Melancholy upon these nobler Studies. Thus disengaged from Noise and Business; from the vain Pomp of numerous, but specious. Friends; he attends to his better part; inquires after a State of true Happiness: Here advises with the Ancient Sages, and grave Philosophers of Greece. These for the most part, especially Socrates, determine it to consist in a Peace of mind, through the Exercise of Virtue, ranging the Affections under the Obedience of Reason. To assert the Dignity of Humane Nature in its Primitive Institution; the excellency of the Soul, as to its Original, sistence; Operations and Duration; to settle the Empire of Reason; a Liberty which no external Force can control; and that braves the atmost malice of Fortune: These are steps by which the Spirit raiseth itself up to Object, adequate to its Faculties; contemplates the Beauties of the Universe, wonderful order of the Celestial Motions, and by the Chain of Causes, ascends up to that all wise Power, which at first disposed, and always governs them. An Idea of Wisdom did in some measure appear to the diligent searchers after Truth; but in practice occurred insufficiency of Knowledge, and frailty of Resolution. Whereupon Cicero puts himself upon enquiry after the Causes of our early Depravation. Mankind must be governed by Conscience, true; but that must be informed by a Law antecedent to positive Constitutions, which being in different Countries divers, would leave the Boundaries of Good and Evil, as litigious as those of Empire. We are ordained for Honour; but there is a vain applause, the counterfeit of true Glory. Besides, Judgement often renders to Passion or Interest; so that he was sensible how short the Best are of Perfection: Indeed he follows the Probable Doctors, rather than the Positive; for, to say the truth, as to the Particulars of a future State, what can frail man, unassisted by Divine Revelation, comprehend or deliver for certain? Our Senses make no faithful report of Things beyond their narrow Sphere: Our most quicksighted Mind hardly penetrates the surface of objects lying in our way. Nor can we recover things past, as the order of the Creation, beyond the help of Records, without Divine Tradition.  
This uncertainty of Natural Knowledge in the highest Points, whilst it contributes to a conviction of its own present insufficiency for recovering the end to which it was once ordained; demonstrates the need we have of a safer guidance than that of our own Wisdom, and inhances the Benefit of Supernatural Truths. From this doubtful apprehension, as to a future condition, and frailty of Nature, our Author is moved to resolve all his care into an affiance in the paternal goodness of God; upon this he suspends comfortable hopes, and seems already to breath after a Blessed Eternity. Philosophy had no mean design, to repair our decayed Natures; and advance us to the persuasion of a certain Immortality. This glorious purpose a Covenant of Grace in the Sacred Indentures ingross'd, doth more amply effect. Be nothing of this understood, to arraign at the Bar of the written Law, those Nations whom God, through his unsearchable Counsels, had for some time left to the enquiring out his Being and Will by the dim Light of Nature, and their impaired Reason. Only suffice it that we know there is no other way to Happiness, than by complying with those easy and honourable terms of Reconciliation offered. A Royal Pardon, however full, hath been revoked, when not received with thankfulness. Again, that we mistake not Privilege for Performance; nor exalt ourselves by looking down with scorn and censure upon others under unlike Circumstances; but rather, as in truth we ought, place ourselves with them upon the same level, at the more competent Tribunal of Natural Conscience, common to us both; and there take an impartial Trial, whether their attainments from Reason, do not aggravate our improficiency under Grace, and consign us over to a less tolerable doom. Can we read that Socrates by Arguments drawn from the visible World, and the reflex acts of his own mind, could collect the Souls Immortality, a future Judgement, Rewards and Punishments, hear him declare, that in Contemplation hereof, he prepared himself so to live, as that his Apology might find acceptance in that day; nay, further maintain, that we ought rather to submit to the most infamous Death, than quit the profession of an honest Principle. Lastly, can we see him refusing unwarrantable delivery from Prison; seal this Doctrine with his Blood (avenged in the signal and speedy Destruction of his Capital Enemies?) Can we read these eminent Instances of improvement in Morals, and not be provoked to call ourselves to account; with what ready submission have we received Truths delivered us upon Divine Testimony? Do we give them that Obedience which their Authority challenges? Are we prepared to contend for them, if Providence order the Trial at the price of our Lives? If in this Scale any of us prove light, then shall we be found both in Judgement and Practice to come short of those whom we must exceed, if we pretend to an equal Retribution. Pardon, courteous Reader, this descant upon the matter of the present Treatise; though you perhaps may need no Cautions in conversing with Humane Authors, yet we stand upon the defensive against such as will seek specious Pretences for not reading them. We do not advance the Perfections of Nature to the superseding Grace. We are not able to lay down the Penalty to an infinite Justice offended; sufficient to repair the Ruins of a lapsed Nature. That Glory be reserved to the mighty Restorer of Mankind; but we must act in subserviency to him, as standing accountable, not only for infused Habits, but also natural Faculties. Therefore do not disregard the ardent endeavours of the Gentile World, in searching after the Deity; much less presume, without Commission, to pass hard Censure upon their Persons; fearing lest their humble Sense of Ignorance, and diligent pursuit of Wisdom, that is, the knowledge of their Duty to God and Man, rise up in Judgement, and condemn our empty confidence in external Privileges, and title of Professors.  
But I am aware that this Lecture may be thought dull and prolix. Philosophy and Divinity require strict intention of mind, which soon tires; therefore I fear the Gravity of the Subject may, with some, prejudge the choice of the Work. Histories, I acknowledge, are delightful and beneficial. But if a brave Action so much affect the Reader, surely that Principle of Honour and Conscience, which informed the Actor, must needs create greater admiration in him, when set forth in lively colours. These Exercises have somewhat in them, strangely suited to the Temper of the Gentry. A Sophister cometh, possessed with some mean and vulgar persuasion. His Professor debates the Question calmly. Joyns to solid Argument, all the Powers of Moral Suasion; enforces Precepts with Example. Here you have the different Opinions of Philosophers examined; Characters and Passions quickened with Poetical Descriptions. Lastly the connate Notions of Good and Evil, so openly displayed and narrowly applied, that the modest Youth, upon better Information, espouses the more generous Principle, and goes a way for ever after rectified in judgement. Tully would have no Ornament omitted, that might embellish this Discourse; it was intended for a Masterpiece.   

Book I.  
Comforts against Death. The Prologue, Sect. 1, 2, 3, 4.  

SECT. I. That the Greeks were inferior to the Romans in most Points of useful knowledge.  
BEING at length wholly or in great part, eased of the toil of Pleading, and State Affairs. I have, chiefly upon your advice, most worthy Brutus, turned my thoughts to those Studies which I had indeed retained in mind, but after long dis-continuance upon incursion of business, and the late Troubles I have resumed. Now whereas the Systems and Circle of all those Arts which relate to direction in the way of well-living, are comprised in the Study of Wisdom, so called Philosophy; this I have thought expedient to illustrate in Latin. Not but that Philosophy may be learned from Greek Treatises and Tutors. But I have still been of the Judgement that my Countrymen have either invented all things more wisely than the Greeks, or improved whatever they received from them, which they counted worth the bestowing their time and pains upon. For as to personal deportment, and ordering Family Concerns, we support them with much more Splendour and Discretion. But as to the public, our Ancestors settled the State upon unquestionably better Laws and Customs. What need I mention the Military part, wherein my Countrymen have excelled as in Valour, so much more in Discipline? Now for those Advantages which are the Products of Nature, not acquists of Study, neither Greeks nor any other Nation under Heaven may compare with them. For what Gravity, what Constancy of mind, what Resolution, Honour, Conscience, what so universal excellency of Virtue, hath been any where to be found, as might match the old Roman? Greece indeed had better Scholars and more Books, wherein the Victory was easily gained over them that made no Resistance. For whereas the ancientest sort of learned men among the Greeks were their Poets, (if it be true that Homer and Hesiod were before the building of Rome, and A●chilochus in the Reign of Romidus) Poetry came later among us, for about CCCCX. after the building of Rome, Livy put out the first Play, in the Consulship of C. Claudius' Son of Appius the blind, and M. Tuditanus the year before Ennius was born, who was elder than Plautus and Naevius.  

* Those Arts that relate to direction in the way of well-living] As Logic, to find out the true end of Life, and Scope of all our Actions. Ethics to mark out the Bounds of Good and Evil; with Economics and Politics for relative Duties Public and Private: Natural Philosophy to understand the Nature of God, the Universe, and our own Souls; this is that Circle of Arts which more immediately refer to the ordering our Life.  
My Countrymen have either invented all things more wisely] He repays the Greeks that disdain which they had for the rest of Mankind, whom they called Barbarians.    

SECT. II. However Superior in Poetry, Pictures, Music and Geometry.  
THerefore was it late before Poets were either understood or countenanced among us. Although it be Recorded in the Antiquities, that the Romans were wont in their solemn Festivals to sing to the sound of the Pipe, Commemorations of men of Renown. Yet that this sort of Bards were in no credit, is evident from the Oration of the same Cato, wherein he objects it by way of reproach against M. Nobilior, that he had carried Poets into the Country where his Government lay. Now when he was Consul, he had taken Ennius along with him into Aetolia, as is well known. The less Reputation therefore Poets found, the less did men addict themselves to Poetry. And yet if any great Wits have appeared, whose Genius led them that way, these have equallized the Character of the most famed Greeks. Can we imagine if Painting had been judged a Commendation to that noble Personage, Fabius, there would not have been among the Romans too, many a Polyclete and Parrhasius? Honour cherisheth Arts, and we are all inflamed by Glory, to the more industrious pursuit of our Studies: Whereas all things that are unfashionable in any People, lie disregarded. The Grecians thought a high prize of skill placed in understanding Vocal and Instrumental Music. Therefore Epaminondas, in my Judgement, the greatest man of Greece, is reported to have played singularly well on the Lute. Whereas Themistocles some years before, for having refused the Harp, coming to him at a Feast, was censured for want of Breeding. This was the reason that Greece flourished with Musicians; all learned to Play, and he that was not Musical, was judged deficient in gentile Education. Geometry was among them in great request, therefore nothing was more famous than their Mathematicians. But we have restrained the compass of this Art, within the necessary uses of surveying and casting up Accounts.  

Although it be Recorded in the Antiquities] Cato the Elder surnamed the Censor, wrote seven Books of Origin's or Antiquities, wherein he recounted the Foundations of the Principal Cities of Italy; and Pedigrees of the Roman Nobility.  
The Oration of the same Cato] The abovementioned Cato wrote above 150 Orations, this against M. Fulvius Nobilior was, I suppose, to impeach him of high Misdemeanours, for plundering the Ambracians of their Statues and Pictures, with other public and private Ornaments during his Government of Aetolia.  
If Painting had been counted a Commendation to that noble Personage Fabius] A Branch of the Fabian Family was surnamed Painters; because the first of that Denomination had painted the Temple of Safety; they seem to have been Cadets of the Fabii Maximi or eldest House.  
Honour cherisheth Arts] That is, Credit and Reward.    

SECT. III. Have overtaken them in Rhetoric, which is encouragement to set upon Philosophy.  
WHen on the contrary we soon closed with the Orator, at first no Scholar, but of a popular Eloquence, though plain; afterwards Scholar too, for Galba, Africanus, Laelius, are reported to have been learned; and Cato who lived before them to have studied after these, Lepidus, Carbo, the Gracchis; since whom down to our Age, men so every ways accomplished, that we come not much if any thing at all, behind the Greeks. Philosophy to this Age hath lain neglected, nor received any lustre from the Latin Tongue, which is our present attempt to raise up and illustrate that so, if, when employed, we were any way serviceable to our Countrymen, we may further serve them in our retirements, wherein we are obliged to use the more diligence, because many Books are said to be already written in Latin unadvisedly by wellmeaning but insufficient men. Now it is possible, that one may have true Conceptions, and yet not be able to express his Notions in proper Terms; but for a man to commit his thoughts to writing for the public, who can neither put them in due method, nor illustrate them with clear Proofs, nor by any delightful Ornaments entertain his Reader, is the part of one that at no rate abuses his own time, and the benefit of Writing. Hereupon they read their own Books among themselves, nor doth any one else meddle with them, but they that expect allowance to write after the same loose fashion. Whereupon if we have brought Oratory any credit by our Industry, we shall much more earnestly discover the Springs of Philosophy, from whence those other Rivulets issued.  

* We soon closed with the Orator] Tully hath done his Pro●●●● that Honour, as to draw up an accurate List of the 〈◊〉 Roman Advocates, with their Character, in a Trea●●●● 〈◊〉 to the same Brutus, and thence styled Brutus, 〈…〉 the famous Orators.  
〈…〉 Books are said to be already written in Latin] He in●● 〈…〉 Epicurean Pieces crudely done into Latin, by 〈◊〉 and Amafinius known to him only by hearsay, but 〈◊〉 as he would not give himself the trouble to read 〈…〉.    

SECT. IV. Philosophy joined with Oratory is more beneficial.  
BUT as Aristotle a man of an incomparable Wit, and great variety of knowledge, being moved with the glory of Isocrates the Rhetorician, begun himself to make Orations, and to teach his Pupils so to do, and to join Prudence with Eloquence; in like manner are we resolved both not to disuse our ancient Practice of Oratory, and withal to exercise ourselves in this more sublime and copious Art. For I ever judged that to be perfect Philosophy, an ability to discourse at large and floridly upon the most important Points. To which exercise we have so diligently applied ourselves, that we have already presumed after the Greek Mode, to hold formal Disputations, and oppose what question should be Problematically maintained; as of late since your departure, having many of my Acquaintance with me in my Countryhouse at Tusoulum, I made trial of my Abilities that way. For as heretofore I was used to declaim upon Lawcases, which no man continued to do longer than I; so now this serves for my Declamation in old Age. I bid one propound such Subjects as he was willing to hear controverted; upon this I disputed either as I sat or walked. So I have cast the day's Acts as they call them into so many Books. The manner of which was, that when the Learner had proposed his Judgement, I opposed. For this is the old and Socratic way to dispute against another's Opinion; by which means Socrates thought it might be most easily discovered, what carried along with it the greatest Probability. But that our Disputations may be more clearly comprehended, I shall lay them down, so as if they were upon the place kept, not barely reported. Thus therefore shall the entrance upon the present Debate naturally arise.  

* In my Countryhouse at Tusculum] Tully had a Summer-house near Tusculum, 12. Miles from Rome, formerly the Palace of Silvius, whose Ruins are at this day to be seen, called Sancta Maria di grotta ferrata: It is a Monastery. When the Learner had proposed his Judgement, I opposed] The order of disputing among the ancient Greeks, somewhat differs from our present Manner. He that proposed the Subject to be controverted, I mean, in the Affirmative or Negative, is with them called the Auditor, resembling in part our Respondent. The Professor is the Opponent, upon him lies the whole weight of the Discourse. He scans the Terms of the Question, Distinguishes, Restrains, Defines, which make up our Thesis. He presseth the Proponent with the Antecedent of an Enthymeme; or scattered Particulars of an Induction. This gained, he maketh out the Consequent Propositions, either in short or apt Interrogatories, or a continued Discourse; till the Evidence be so plain, that it extort Confession. The calmness of the Teacher, and ingenuity of the Auditor, where Truth not Glory is the Prize, cut off all occasion for a Moderator. The whole is free Conference and friendly Debate: upon the sole Design of undeceiving the Auditor, prepossessed with some popular, but erroneous Persuasion.    

SECT. V. The Position.  Sophister. 
I Am of the Judgement that [Death] is evil.  Master, 
Whether to them that are dead, or to them that must die?  S. 
To both.  M. 
It is therefore miserable because evil.  S. 
True.  M. 
Therefore they who are already dead, and they who must hereafter die, are both miserable.  S. 
That is my opinion.  M. 
There is none therefore but who is miserable.  S. 
No not one.  M. 
Nay further, if you will be true to what you hold, all that ever were or shall be born, are not only miserable, but also for ever miserable. For had you only held them miserable who must die, you had excepted none of them who are alive; for all must die; yet death would have been the end of misery; but because they who be dead are also miserable, we are born to everlasting Misery. For of necessity they are miserable who were dead a 100000 years ago, or rather all that ever were born.  S. 
I am clearly of that Persuasion.  M. 
Prithee tell me, do these Advises from under ground scare you? The black Mastiff with three Heads, the howling River, the Ferry over the Stygian Lake, Tantalus chin-deep in Water choked with thirst? Doth  
— Sisyphus' his ponderous Stone,  
Tugged up with sweat, still rolling down alone?  
Perhaps too those inexorable Justicers Minos and Rhadamanthus, before whom you can have neither Lucius Crassus, nor Mark Antony to plead your Cause; nor, because the Matter is to be tried before Greek Judges, can you have Demosthenes for Counsel; yourself must make your own defence in the greatest of all Assemblies. These things perhaps you dread, and therefore apprehend death as an eternal Evil.  

(a) We are born to everlasting Misery] It is horrible to imagine that the Author of Nature should ordain the whole Race of Mankind, so highly by him advanced to a State of endless Misery. But the Heathen did not understand death as a Punishment, superinduced through the defection of our first Parent. This is brought against Death's being Evil, that is, miserable to both living and dead. The third Member of the Dis-junction.    

SECT. VI The Local Hell, described by Poets is fictitious.  S 
DO you take me to be so destitute of Reason, as to believe these Legends?  M. 
What do not you verily believe them?  S. 
Not I at all.  M. 
You tell me ill news.  S. 
How so? I beseech you.  M. 
Because I could have passed for a Wit in confuting them.  S. 
And who might not on such a Subject? or what difficulty is it to prove these to be mere extravagancies of Poets and Painters?  M. 
Why? there are whole Book-fulls in the Philosophers, of Disputations, to overthrow these Supposititions.  S. 
To much purpose indeed; for who is so senseless as to be concerned at them?  M. 
If therefore there be none miserable under ground, neither are there any Persons under ground.  S. 
I am clear of your mind in that.  M. 
Where then are those that you call miserable? or what place do they inhabit? for, if they be, they cannot be no where.  S. 
Yes, I think them to be no where.  M. 
Therefore neither to be.  S. 
Well, as you say, and yet miserable for that very reason, because they be not.  M. 
Nay, now had I rather you were afraid of Cerberus, than to use such inconsiderate Discourse.  S. 
How so?  M. 
You say that the same is not, and yet is. Where is your Subtlety? for when you say he is miserable, you then say that he who is not, yet is.  S. 
I am not so stupid as to say that.  M. 
What is it then that you say?  S. 
That M. Crassus, for instance, is miserable, who by death was taken from that Estate. Cn. Pompey miserable, who was deprived of so great Glory; in a word, that all are miserable who lack this cheerful light.  M. 
You come round thither where you were before; for they needs must be, if they are miserable, but you lately denied that the Dead are; if therefore they are not, they cannot be any thing, and by consequence not miserable.  S. 
Perchance I do not yet speak out my meaning, for I take that very thing to be most miserable for him not to be that hath been.  M. 
What? more miserable than for one never to have been at all? by the same reason they that are yet unborn, are already miserable, because they are not. And we ourselves, if we shall be miserable after we are dead, were so before we were born; but I do not remember that I was miserable before I was born: you, if you have a better Memory, I would fain know whether you remember any such thing of yourself?  

* To prove these to be mere Extravagancies of Poets and Painters.] The Body in a State of Separation in insensible: nor did they expect a Resurrection of the Body, only by Faith in the sacred Testimonies apprehended: therefore to place Hell in bodily Sufferings, seemed to them repugnant both to Sense and Reason. Yet they owned the Souls of the deceased to enter into a State of Happiness or Misery according to their Actions in this Life.    

SECT. VII. They who are not, are not miserable.  S. 
YOU make a Droll of it, as if I said they are miserable who are not born, and not those that are dead.  M. 
You say then that these are.  S. 
Nay, but because they have been, and are not, that they are miserable.  M. 
Do not you perceive that you speak Contradictions? for what is so opposite, as that he should be not only miserable, but any thing, who is not at all? As you go out at the Capuan Gate, and see there the Sepulchers of Calatinus, the Scipio's, the Servilii. and Marcelli, can you judge them miserable?  S. 
Because you pinch me with cavilling at a word, I shall hereafter forbear to say they are miserable, but only term them miserable for that very reason because they are not.  M. 
You do not say then M. Crassus is miserable, but miserable M. Crassus.  S. 
Right.  M. 
As though whatsoever is pronounced of any one, were not of necessity either so, or not so; have you not so much as learned the Rudiments of Logic? for this is a fundamental Maxim there, that every Proposition must be either true or false; when therefore you say miserable M. Crassus, either you say M. Crassus is miserable, that it may be brought to trial whether it be true or false; or you say nothing at all.  S. 
Well then, I grant that they are not miserable who are dead, because you have wracked out of me the Confession, that they who have no being, cannot be so much as miserable; what say you of us that are alive, can we be other than miserable, since we must die? for what enjoyment can there be in life, when we are to think day and night that die we must of a certain, and it is uncertain whether this or the next Moment?  


(a) They who have no being, cannot be so much as miserable] Nothing is more certain; as the Action at Law dies with the Person, so if the Subject cease to be, all the Accidents depending on it fall together. Death is a Dissolution of the whole compound: but this Argument is intended to reprove the Vulgar, who foolishly pitied the dead only for their loss of these worldly Advantages, to which indeed the dead are utterly lost; but he afterwards retrieves the Soul. The drift of these two Sections is, to disprove Death's being evil or miserable to them that are already dead, which was the second Member of the disjunctive.   

(b) As ye go out at the Capuan Gate.] It was a Law among the Romans (taken from the Attic) to bury none within the City: but without the several Gates by the highway-side. Monuments erected for the dead, were admonitions to the Passengers, and Ornaments of the Public.     

SECT. VIII. Nor is dying a miserable thing, it is assayed, to prove it rather good.  M. 
DO you come then to understand of how much evil you have discharged humane Condition?  S. 
Which way?  M. 
Because, if dying had been miserable to them that are dead, we should have had an endless and everlasting evil in Life. Now I see the Goal, whether when I have finished my course nothing further is to be feared. But you seem to me to be of Epicharmus' mind, an acute man, and not unfacetious, as being a Sicilian.  S. 
What was his mind? for I do not know it.  M. 
I will tell you if I can translate it, for you know I no more use to bring in ends of Greek in a Latin Discourse, than when I am speaking Greek to come in with Latin Sentences.  S. 
In that you are right: but what, I pray, is that saying of Epicharmus?  M. 
To die I'm loath, but weigh not to be dead.  S. 
Now I find the Greek by his subtlety, but since you have forced me to yield, that they who are dead, are not miserable; persuade me, if you can, that it is not a miserable thing that we must die.  M. 
There is now no great difficulty in that, but I aim at higher Matters.  S. 
How no great difficulty in that? or what can be those higher Matters?  M. 
Because if there be no evil after death, neither can death itself be evil, for the time which immediately follows it is after death, wherein you allow that there is no evil, upon which follows, that neither is it evil that we must die; which is, we must arrive thither, where we confess is no evil.  S. 
Speak to that I pray more largely; for these captious questions sooner gain of me a Confession than a Conviction. But what are those higher Matters that you say you aim at?  M. 
To make out, if I am able, that death is so far from being evil, that it is good.  S. 
I do not require that from you, but would gladly hear it; for though you should not demonstrate what you attempt, yet you will gain the question that death is not evil. Proceed then, I shall not interrupt you. I had rather hear it in a continued Speech.  M. 
What if I should ask you any thing, would you not answer me?  S. 
That were an uncivil part, but unless there be a necessity, I had rather you would for bear it.  

* If there be no evil after death, neither can death itself be evil.] Death as a passage to a State of insensibility can have no very formidable aspect: and this is offered to overthrow the first Branch in the disjunctive Syllogism, as if death were evil to them that are to die. But the Heathen World knew not the universal calpableness of mankind: the rigorous Sanction of a just Law, and Power of the Lawgiver to put his Sentence in Execution, wherein the Terrors of Death doth consist.    

SECT. IX. What is death, what the Soul, in vulgar Opinion.  M. 
I Will comply with you, and to my best Ability declare what you desire; yet not so as if inspired by Pythian Apollo, I should speak nothing that were no Oracle and Infallible; but as a weak man of like frailty with the rest of Mankind, pursuing what hath greatest appearance of Truth; for beyond probabilities, I am not able to advance. Let them deliver Certainties, who both affirm these Matters to be comprehensible, and profess themselves to have arrived at Perfection.  S. 
In that, as you please, we are prepared to give attention.  M. 
Death then however universally it may seem to be known, must first be enquired what it is. Some hold death to be a Separation of the Body from the Soul. Others think there is no Separation, but that both Soul and Body determine at once, and that the Soul is extinguished with the Carcase. Of those who judge that the Soul departs, some hold that it presently scatters; some again, after a long space; others maintain that it endures for ever. Now what it is, where seated, or whence it cometh, is matter of great Controversy. Some take it to be the heart; whence men are said to be without Heart, of a bad Heart, or of one Heart. And that great Statesman Nasica, who was twice Consul, had the Surname of Wise-heart.  
And the old Poet terms,  Wise Aelius Sextus of an heart Profound. 
Empedocles thinks the Soul to be the Bloodshed through the Heart. Others judge that a part of the Brain is the Principle of Sense and Understanding. Another Party cannot agree, either the one or other to be the Soul, but these lodge it in the Heart, those in the Brain as its Seat or Palace. Others, and among them we in our own Language use the name Soul and Spirit promiscuously; for we say to gasp and expire, or give up the Ghost; also men of a gallant Spirit, of a sound Spirit and the like. As for Spirit it is, being interpreted, Breath. Zeno the Stoic holds the Soul to be a Fire.  

(a) Let them deliver Certainties.] He reflects upon the Stoics, who were very positive, and Pretenders to perfect Wisdom.    

SECT. X. What it is in the Judgement of divers Philosophers.  
BUT these which I have recited, that the Soul should be Heart, Brains, Breath, Fire are vulgar Opinions; the remaining private Doctors have held, and some of the Ancient ones. Of later date Aristoxenus, Musician and Philosopher too, maintained it was a certain Key to which the body was strained, as in the tuning of an Instrument; so by the nature and posture of the Body, variety of Motions were raised, and as Notes in Music. He kept to his Art, yet somewhat he said, which somewhat such as it was, had been long before both said and explained by Plato. Xenocrates denied that the Soul hath any corporeal Figure, but said it was a number, whose Power, as Pythagoras had before held, was of great Efficacy in Nature. His Master Plato divided the Soul into three Parts. The Principal of these, which is Reason, he placed in the Head as in its Citadel, and separated into two, Anger and Lust, which he lodged in different Apartments, placing Anger in the Stomach, and Lust under the Entrails. But Dicaearchus in that Discourse which he held at Corinth, and put out in three Books in the Person of learned men, in the first Books brings in many Disputants; in the two latter introduceth one Pherecrates an old man of Phthia, whom he allegeth as descended of Deucalion, and there to argue that there is no such being as a Soul; that it is a mere Name without a Notion, and that we speak improperly in saying, that Creatures have a living Soul; whereas in truth there is neither in Man nor Beast, any such thing as Soul or Spirit, but all that Power which produceth in us Actions of the Mind, or Senses is an equal Complexion of the Elements, nor can subsist in a separate Estate, as being no substance, but plain body, which under such a Figure, is by its natural Temper disposed to Vegetation and Sense. Aristotle who far surpasseth all others (Plato always excepted) both in Parts and Industry, after he had computed the four Elements which furnish material cause of existence to all compound Bodies, pitches upon a fifth Essence, of which the rational Soul should consist; for to think and forecast, to learn and teach, to invent, with so many other Abilities of Memory, Love, Hatred, Desire, Fear, Anxiety, Joy, he doth not conceive these and the like, can be inherent in any of those four Elements. Hereupon he adds a fifth nameless Nature, and so calls the Soul by the new name of a pure Act, being in continued and perpetual Motion.   

SECT. XI. Inferences from these divers Opinions.  
THese are almost all the Opinions about the Soul, as far as I can recollect; for let us wave Democritus, a brave man indeed and excellent Scholar, but who framed the Soul upon a casual rencontre of smooth and globular Moths, for among those Gentlemen there is no feat so strange, but what omnipotent Atoms can perform. Of these Opinions which is true, God alone knows; which hath the greatest appearance of truth, is much to be questioned. Had we best therefore discuss these different Opinions, or return to the enquiry at first proposed?  S. 
I would fain both might be, if it were possible; but it is hard to confound them: Wherefore, if without scanning them at large, we may be delivered from the Terrors of death, let that be our business; but if that cannot be obtained till this question of the Souls nature be decided, let us now dispatch this, and that another time.  M. 
I judge that more convenient, which I find you like better; for it will be concluded with good Reason, that whatsoever of those Opinions which I have alleged, prove true, death must be either not evil, or rather good. For if the Soul be Heart, or Blood, or Brains, of a certain, because it is Corporal, it will die with the other Body. If it be breath, perhaps it will scatter into thin Air: If Fire, it will be quenched: If it be the Harmony of Aristoxenus, it will be discomposed. What need I mention Dicaearchus, who allows not the Soul to be any Substance? according to all these Opinions, none hath any concern after Death; for Life and Sense are extinguished together. But what is insensible, hath neither interest in good or evil. The Judgements of the rest open some door of Hope, if this may chance to please you, that our Souls, when they have escaped out of our Bodies, may arrive at Heaven, as at their own Home.  S. 
That is well pleasing to me, and I could principally wish that it were so. But next, however it is, could be contented with the persuasion that it were so.  M. 
What need have you of our pains to that purpose? can we surpass Plato in Eloquence? Read over diligently his Book about the Soul, you will need no further Information.  S. 
I have in truth done so, and that many times; but, I know not how, whilst I am in reading I yield my assent; when I have laid down the Book, and begin to meditate with myself upon the Soul's Immortality, all my former Assent slips out of my mind.  M. 
What think you of this? do you grant that Souls do either subsist after death, or determine upon death?  S. 
I readily grant it.  M. 
What if they survive?  S. 
I allow they are blessed.  M. 
If they die?  S. 
That they are not miserable, because they have no being; for that Point upon compulsion from you, we a little before granted.  M. 
How then, or wherefore do you say death in your judgement to be an evil, which either renders us blessed in case the Soul survive, or not miserable, as being without all Sense?  

(b) What if they survive? I allow they are blessed.] An intellectual Life is a Blessing compared with Annihilation; but to this must be added; Reconciliation to God, on such Terms as he hath declared consistent with the Honour of his Justice and Truth.    

SECT. XII. Arguments that the Soul subsists after Death, from immemorial Tradition, from Funeral Rites, and from the Veneration of ancient Heroes.  S. 
BE pleased therefore to declare in the first place, if you are able, that the Soul subsists after Death; if you cannot evince that (for it is a hard matter to make out clearly) inform us that Death carrieth no evil along with it; for I fear lest that be evil, I say not, to be insensible, but that we must lose our Senses.  M. 
We can produce the best Authority for that Sentence which you would gain; now this both aught, and is wont to be of greatest moment in deciding all Causes; as first the consent of all Antiquity, who the less distance they were removed from their original and divine Extraction, did perhaps discern truth more clearly. Therefore this one Principle was deeply engrasted in those old Sires, who lived in the nonage of time, that there was Sense after Death; nor would man by departure out of Life, be so raised up from the Foundations, as to perish totally. And this may be collected, as from many other Instances, so in particular from the Pontifical Sanctions about Ceremonies at the places of burial, which they would never have observed with so much Devotion, nor avenged the breach of them under such inexpiable Penalties, had it not been imprinted in their minds, that death was not an Annihilation, but a removal and change only of Life, which used to conduct Men and Women of good Fame up to Heaven; and which continued in others, but was depressed to the grosser Regions investing the Earth. After this Ritual, and the Opinion of our Ancestors,  In Heaven lives Romulus with the Gods in bliss; 
as Ennius, compliant with Fame, sweetly sings. In like manner among the Greeks, and from them derived to us, and as far as the Western Ocean is Hercules esteemed, a God so powerful and propitious. From hence Bacchus born of Sem●le, and in like renown Castor and Pollux Brethren, Sons of Tynearus, who are delivered to have been in the Battles of the Roman People, not only assistants of Victory, but also Messengers there of express: What is not Ino, Cadmus' Daughter, who was named by the Greeks Leucothea, termed by the Romans, Matuta? What? is not almost all Heaven, not to instance in more, peopled with Inhabitants of humane Race?  

(c) But also Messengers thereof] In the War with the Latins at the Regillan Lake, two Knights on white Horses were seen to lead up the Roman Battalia, and after the Victory, the same night to wash their Houses at the Fountain of Juiurna, where having brought Post to Rome, the News of the day won, they vanished. The like divine Express is said to have brought the word to Domitius Aenobarbus, the day that Perses King of Macedon was beaten by Paulus Aemilius.    

SECT. XIII. From this that the Superior Gods are received to have been Men deceased.  
BUT if I should go about to ransack old Monuments, and discover out of them what the Greek Writers have disclosed; those very Gods which are reputed of the higher Rank, will be found to have passed from us here to Heaven. Inquire whose Sepulchers are showed in Greece. Call to mind, because you have been admitted to the Vision of the secret Ceremonies, what passages are delivered in those Mysteries; so will you come to understand of how large extent this Suggestion is. But those plainhearted Ancients, who had never learned these Systems of natural Theology, which many years after came to be formed, believed no more than the bare objects of their Senses, comprehended not the Reasons and Causes of them; were often moved by some Apparitions, and those most commonly in the night, to conceive that those who had departed this World, were still alive. Now allowing this to pass for a most conclusive Argument, why we should believe the being of a God, because there is no People so Savage, no Person so Barbarous, but hath some Notion of a Deity impressed on his mind. Many have unworthy Conceptions of God, for that ariseth from corrupt Custom; yet all concur in this Faith, that there is a divine Nature and Power, nor is this opinion wrought by the Conferring or Combination of men together, nor is it built upon Customs or Laws. Now the consent of all Nations in any thing, is to be esteemed the Law of Nature. Who therefore is there who doth not mourn for the loss of his Friends, upon the account that he thinks them deprived of the Comforts of Life? Take away this Opinion, and you will take away Mourning, for no body bemoans his own loss. Perhaps they grieve or are in anguish for it. That same pitiful Lamentation, weeping and wailing, springeth from the Consideration, that we judge him whom we loved, despoiled of the Conveniencies of Life, and sensible that he is so. And this judgement we bear from the Impressions of Nature, without any Conclusions of Reason, or Instructions of Learning.   

SECT. XIV. From an innate care of Posterity, and zeal for the State.  
FUrther it is a strong Argument, that Nature hath in herself secret Convictions about the Souls Immortality, from that Providence which all have, and especially in those things which are to take place after our Death.  He raiseth Plants, whose Fruit next Age must gather. 
As saith Statius in the Comedy of the young Twins; upon what Contemplation but only this, that he is interested in succeeding Generations? Shall then a careful Husbandman Plant Trees, whereof he is never likely to see one Berry, and shall not a good Patriot plant Laws, Customs for the Commonwealth. What means the breeding of Children; what the propagating our Name; what the Adoptions of Sons; what the formality of Wills; what the Monuments of Tombs; what Epitaphs, but what we reckon upon future times. What say we to this? Do you make any question, but that a Pattern of our Nature ought to be taken from the very best of Natures? Now what Nature is better in Mankind, than that of those who esteem themselves born for the Succour, Defence, and Preservation of men. Hercules is gone to the Gods; he had never gone, had he not, while he lived among men, secured his passage thither.   

SECT. XV. And thirst after Glory.  
THese Instances are of old Date, and consecrated by the Religion of all People. By what Principles do we suppose so many brave Persons acted in our own State, who laid down their Lives for the Commonwealth? was it their Judgement, that their name should be confined within the same compass as their Lives? No man without great hopes of immortality would ever offer up himself in the Service of his Country. Themistocles might have lived at ease; so might Epaminondas, and (not to look abroad or backward for Examples) so might I. But there is in our minds a kind of secret sally-port, whereby we make excursion into future Ages. This is most forward and observable in the most pregnant Wits and gallant Spirits. Take away this, who would be so senseless as to live in perpetual toil and hazard? I speak for Statesmen, but as to Poets, have they no regard to Fame after Death, whence then came this Inscription?  
Here, Roman, stands old Ennius crowned with Bays,  
Who sung your Fathers in immortal Lays.  
He expects the Wages of Glory from those whose Parents he had immortalised. Then further on the same occasion,  
None mourn for me, nor cruel Destives blame,  
I draw the breath of never-dying Fame.  
But why do I insist on Poets? Artisans strive to be ennobled by their Masterpieces after Death. For why else should Phidias work an Image like himself in the Shield of Minerva, where he might not inscribe his Name? Nay our own Philosophers, do they not set their Names to those very Books which they write upon contemning Glory? Now if the consent of all men be the voice of Nature; and all men every where do accord, that they who are departed this Life, have some interest here; we then must needs be of the same Sense: and if any who excel in Parts and Virtue, we suppose them as being best natured, to see farthest into the Power of Nature; it is likely, since the best men are most serviceable to Posterity, that there is somewhat whereof they shall be sensible after Death.   

SECT. XVI. That Dead men's Souls abide in Caves under earth, is the groundless Fiction of Poets, or Imposture of Magicians.  
BUT as We conceive the Being of God by natural Instinct, but gather his Nature and Attributes by rational Deductions; so that Souls do subsist in a separate State, we judge by the consent of all Nations; what Mansions they inhabit, and what be their essential Qualities we must learn; by reason the ignorance of which hath feigned a Hell in the Centre of the Earth, and those bugbears which you did seem not without just Cause to despise. For when Bodies fell into the Earth, and were covered within the ground, from whence they are said to be inhumed, they fancied that the dead led the rest of their Life under the Earth. Upon which opinion of theirs, great errors ensued; these the Poets improved. For the crammed Seats of the Theatre, in which be Women and Children, are moved when they hear such a lofty Verse:  
I come mith woeful pains from under ground,  
A steep and headlong way which Cliffs surround,  
Huge, pointed, pendant; where gross darkness dwells.  
And so far did the error prevail, which seems to me now taken quite away, that though they knew Corpses to have been burnt, yet they feigned such Acts done below, as could neither be performed without corporeal Organs, nor understood. For they could not comprehend the Soul's subsisting in a separate condition, but required it to have some shape and figure. Upon this conceit depends all Homer's Descent into Hell. Upon the same, that Necromancy, which my Friend Appius practised. Upon this the Avernian Lake in our Neighbourhood.  
Whence raised are Night-Ghosts, Images of the dead,  
Deep Acheron 's Gates flung open by salt bloodshed.  
Yet they will have these Images speak; which is impossible without a Tongue, without a Palate, without the force and figure of Throat, Sides and Lungs. They could not see any thing by the mind, but terminated all sight in the Eyes. Now it is the part of a noble Wit, to call the Mind off from the Senses, and take it out of the common Road. Therefore I suppose that in so many Ages, some have before done so; but of all whose Opinions are Recorded, Pherecydes the Syrese first maintained that Humane Souls are immortal. An Author of great Antiquity, for he lived in the Reign of my Kinsman. This opinion his Scholar Pythagoras greatly confirmed, who being come into Italy in the Reign of Tarquin the proud swayed Greece the Great, with honour to his Person, multitude of Auditors, and Authority of his Doctrine: so that for many years after, the Pythagorean Name so flour shed, that none were reputed Scholars who were not of his Sect.  


(a) Pherecydes the Syrese] From Sires one of the Islands, in the Aegean called Cyclades, he was the Master of Pythagoras.   

(b) For he lived in the Reign of my Kinsman] Tully claim kindred with Servius Tullius the sixth Roman King upon names-sake.     

SECT. XVII. That it is more likely they ascend.  
BUT I return to the Ancients; they were hardly wont to give any reason of their Opinion, unless in matters demonstrable by Lines and Numbers. Plato is reported to have traveled into Italy, that he might be acquainted with the Pythagoreans; and when he was there, to have had intimacy with Architas and Timaeus, so that he became expert in all the Pythogorean Learning; and was the first that not only held the same concerning the Immortality of the Soul, as Pythagoras did; but further brought his reason to prove it; which reason, unless you otherwise require, let us blanche, and so abandon this whole hope of Immortality.  S. 
Do you offer, now you have raised my expectations to the height, to disappoint me? had rather, I assure you, be mistaken with Plato, whom I know how much you magnify, and am wont, upon your Commendation, to admire, than to be of their opinion in the right.  M. 
Bravely resolved! for I myself could be contented with so good Company, to be in the wrong. Do we then question this, as many other passages? although there be least ground to doubt this; Mathematicians persuade us, that the Earth, situated in the middle of the Universe, beareth the proportion of a Point, which they call the Centre, in comparison with the vast Orb of the Starry Heavens: and further, that such is the nature of the four Elements, that their Motions are divided by opposite terms; so that terrene and humid Bodies of their own bent and sway, tend perpendicularly to the Earth and Sea; the two remaining parts, the one of Fire, the other of Air, as the former by their heaviness, sink down into the middle of the World; so these sore up at right Angles to the heavenly Regions; whether it be their own nature to aspire upward; or that the lighter parts are naturally lifted up by the descent of the more heavy. These things being on all hands agreed, it ought to be alike evident that Souls, when they depart the Body, whether they be of a spiritous or fiery substance, mount towards Heaven; but if the Soul be a number, which is said with more subtlety than plainness; or if it be of that fifth Nature, which however nameless, is not so very difficult to be understood; then are they much more abstract from matter, and of greater purity, and will consequently ascend to the greatest distance from the Earth. Now some of these Nature's the Soul must needs be of; not to fancy so quick and sprightly an Intelligence, lying plunged in the Heart, or Brains, or after Empedocles, in the Blood.  

(c) Or that the lighter parts are naturally lifted up by the descent of the heavier.] The opinion that Gravity and Levity are not positive but comparative, thought to be Modern, and Cartesian, appears to have been ancient.    

SECT. VIII. Nor vanish.  
AS for Dicaearchus, with Aristoxenus his Contemporary and Fellow-Pupil, let them pass for great Scholars, the one of which seems never to have had compassion, or he would have been sensible that he had a Soul; the other is so transported with his Tunes, that he would forcibly apply them to the Matters in hand. Now we can collect Harmony from the distance of sounds; the setting of which notes in due proportion produces also variety of Tunes: But, what Music the posture of the Limbs, and the shape of the Body destitute of a Soul, can produce, I comprehend not. He would do well therefore, Scholar as he is, to leave these Matters to his Master Aristotle, and content himself with teaching to Fiddle. For that is good direction which is given in the Greek Proverb.  Let each man practice th' Art in which he's skilled. 
But turn we quite out of doors that casual concourse of smooth and round Bodies; which yet Democritus would have to conceive heat and become spiritous, that is, having Life. Now the Soul in this case, (which if it consists of any of the four Elements, whereof all things are said to be compounded, hath for its ingredients inflamed Air, to which opinion Panaetius was most inclinable) must mount upwards; for these two Elements have nothing in them tending downward, but always ascend so, whether they scatter in the Air; it must be far from falling to the Earth; or, whether they continue, and subsist in a separate Estate, they must of more necessity mount up to Heaven, forcing their passage through this gross and impure Air, which is nearest the Earth; for the Soul is hotter, or rather more fiery than is this Air, which I just now called gross and impure.   

SECT. XIX. But ascend the Sky.  
AND that it is so, is demonstrable from this, that our Bodies compounded of the terrene sort of Principles, do yet conceive warmth from the heat of the Soul. The probability is further improved of our Souls breaking through, and surmounting this airy Region with the more ease, because nothing is swifter than thought. No speed may compare with the speed of the Soul; which if it continue entire and like itself, must of necessity pass with such a quick motion, as to pierce and divide all these lower Regions of Heaven, wherein Clouds, Rains, and Winds are engendered, which is moist and dark, with Exhalations from the Earth; which Atmosphere, when the Soul hath transcendéd, and finds that she is arrived at a nature like herself, consisting of a refined Air, and gentle heat of the Sun, she fixeth in the Empyrean Orb, and stays her further ascent; for having now gotten a lightness and heat agreeable to herself, as hanging balanced in an equal counterpoise, she moves neither way, but this is her natural home, when she hath arrived at her own likeness; where she shall want nothing but be nourished and sustained with the same Food, wherewith the Stars are nourished and sustained: and whereas we are here wont through the Lusts of our flesh, to be inflamed to almost all sorts of concupiscence, and to be so much the more fired, because we emulate those who are in possession of those Goods which we pursue. Doubtless, blessed shall we be, when divested of these Bodies, we shall with them have put off their craving desires, and fond Emulations. Now as it fareth with us here, when released from cares, we love to recreate ourselves in beholding some moral Divertisements, or other pleasing sights; we shall have then much more liberty to attend to it and shall lay out ourselves wholly in contemplating the wonderful Effects of Nature, and discerning their Causes; both because our minds have naturally unplanted in them, an insatiable longing to come at the sight of Truth: And because the very Borders of those heavenly places, at which we shall have arrived, as by their proximity they will furnish greater advantages, as the discovery of the celestial Bodies, with their motions; so will they accordingly excite in us a more ardent desire, to inquire after them. For it was this beautiful order which put our Fathers and Grandfathers even here on Earth (as Theophrastus saith) upon Philosophy, and inflamed them with a desire of Knowledge; but they shall with more enlarged Faculties and satisfaction, comprehend them; who while here upon Earth, however they were invelopped in thick mists of Obscurity; yet by the piercing sight of a clear mind, endeavoured to descry them.  

(d) And shall lay out ourselves wholly in contemplating the wonderful Effects of Nature, and discerning their Causes.] To behold natural Causes, is delightful to the Understanding. God is said to look down upon his Works, and rejoice. But our greatest satisfaction is by them, as in a Mirror, to behold the infinite Wisdom and Power of him who hath disposed them. And since the Creature must pass away in the general Conflagration; there remains no other beatifical Vision, but to behold the face of the Creator, reconciled to us through a gracious Redeemer, to which only purity of heart can prepare.    

SECT. XX. And thence contemplate Nature.  
NOW if they fancy themselves to have got some advantage, who have seen the Mouth of the Black-Sea, and those straits, through which the Galley entered, which was named  
Argo, because in her the Flower of Greece,  
From Argos rowed, to fetch the Golden Fleece.  
And those also who have seen the straits mouth, where the swift current Libya and Europe parts.  
What a rare sight do we think it will be, when we may see the whole Earth at one view? and as its Situation, Form, Circuit; so both its Country's habitable; and those again utterly uninhabitable, through excess of cold or heat? For we do not at present behold with our eyes the things we do see. Since there is no sense in the Body; but, as not only Naturalists inform, but also Physicians, who in Dissections have seen and examined the several parts, there are certain open passages bored from the Seat of the Soul, to the Eyes, to the Ears, and to the Nostrils; whence oftentimes either being deep in Meditation, or seized with some violent Distemper, though our eyes and ears be both sound and open, we can neither see nor hear with them. So that it is very apparent, that it is the Soul which both sees and hears, and not those parts which are but as it were the Casements of the Soul; with which yet it can perceive nothing, unless it be mindful and attentive. It is further observable, that with the same mind we comprehend objects of a most different Nature, as colour, taste, heat, scent, and sound; which the Soul could never distinguish from the report of five Messengers, unless all were committed to her, that she alone might be judge of all. And in truth those things will be seen much more clearly and transparently, when the Soul shall get free to the place whither Nature is bound; for at present, however Nature hath framed those overtures, which are a thorough-fair from the Body to the Soul, after a most curious and artificial manner; yet are they in a sort, obstructed by gross and impure Matter; but, when the Soul shall he by herself, nothing shall interpose to hinder her from discerning every object, according to its proper Nature.   

SECT. XXI. That the Epicureans who plead for Annihilation, have no such reason to triumph in their Scheme of natural Knowledge improved.  
WE could sufficiently dilate upon this Subject, if the Matter required it, how many, how different, how great entertainments of the Sight, the Soul should find in the heavenly places. The Consideration of which, makes me often admire at the strange Vanity of some Philosophers, who magnify their knowledge of Nature, and in great Ecstasies of Joy, offer up thanks to him that first invented and revealed it, worshipping him as a God: For by his means they pretend themselves freed from the most insupportable Lords, everlasting Terror, and apprehension day and night. What Terror? What Apprehension? Is there any old Goodwife so doting, as to fear those things which you see now, had you not learned the Scheme of natural Philosophy, you should have feared?  
Acheron 's low Regions which pale shades frequent,  
Where Clouds o'erspread the gloomy Firmament.  
Is it not a shame for a Philosopher to glory, that he is got above these fears, and that he knows them to be but Fables? By which it appears what profound natural Parts these men have, who should have believed such Stories, if they had not been bred up to Learning. A great prize too, they have got by this Learning; that when they come to die, they are to perish Soul and Body. Which admit to be true (for I am not contentious) what great matter of joy or boasting doth the Doctrine afford? Though, to speak truth, I cannot find any considerable Objection against the opinion of Pythagoras and Plato; for had Plato alleged no reason for it (see what deference I have to his Person) he would have dashed me with his bare Authority; but now he hath backed his Judgement with so many Reasons, that he seems to me, to have endeavoured to make others to be so, but himself truly to have been of the persuasion.   

SECT. XXII. An immaterial Substance, though invisible, may subsist of itself, as God, so the Soul.  
YET many stubborn Opponents there are, who pass Sentence of Death upon Souls, as Capital Malefactors. Nor have they other ground, upon which they derogate credit from the Eternity of Souls, but only this, that they cannot fancy nor comprehend what should be the nature of a Soul separate from the Body; as if they understood what were the nature of it, when united to it; what fashion, what size, what place it takes up. So that were man a Creature, who might be looked into, and all his inward Parts discovered, whether would the Soul be visible, or for its extraordinary subtlety escape the sight. These things they would do well to consider, who say, they cannot conceive what a Soul should be without a Body; they will find what Conception they have of it, now it is in the Body. For my part, when I look closely into the nature of the Soul, it seems a far more difficult and obscure Speculation, what the Soul should be, when confined to this Body, as in a strange House, than what it should be, when it is escaped and arrived at the open Heaven, as its own home; For unless we can conceive the nature of a thing which we never saw, neither can we apprehend the Being of God, who is an incorporeal Spirit. Dicaearchus and Aristoxenus, because the Nature and likeness of a So●● were hard to be understood, plainly denied the ●●ry being of it. Indeed it is one of the hardest Operations, for the Soul, by a reflex act, to behold the Soul. And this was the true meaning of Apollo, in that Precept, wherein he enjoins man to know himself. For I do not take, that he means we should know our Limbs, how tall we are, or of what shape; nor indeed are our Bodies ourselves, and what I now speak to you, I do not address to your Body. When therefore, he saith, know yourself, he means, know your Soul; for the Body is but the Case and Cabinet of the Soul. Whatever Actions are performed by your Soul, are your Actions. Therefore to know thee, unless it had been of some Divine Import, it would not so far have passed for the Invention of some profound Wit, so as to have been fathered upon a God, requiring no greater Ability, than to know one's self. But though the Soul should not attain to know what is the Nature of the Soul; pray satisfy me, can it not know its Being? can it not be sensible of its Motion? from whence arose that Argument of Plato, pressed by Socrates in the Dialogue styled Phaedrus, and quoted by me in my sixth Book of Politics.   

SECT. XXIII. Arguments for the Immortality of the Soul, from its inward Motion.  
WHat always moveth, is eternal; but what imparts motion to another, and what is acted by another, when it comes to an end of motion, must also come to an end of life. That only therefore which moves itself, because it is never deserted of itself, neither doth it ever cease moving; nay, this is the Spring, this the Principle of Motion, to other things which are moved. Now a Principle hath no precedent source of being, for all things arise from their Principle, but it can spring from no other thing; for so it would cease to be a Principle, if it were begotten of any thing else; but if it be never generated, neither will it ever corrupt; for a Principle abolished, can neither arise again from another, nor can it produce any other thing from itself; for all things must necessarily arise from their Principle; so cometh it about, that the Principle of Motion, must be at that which moveth itself; now that can neither be born, nor die; or else all Heaven would tumble down, and the whole frame of Nature stop its course; nor have any Mover, by whose first impression it should be set on Motion. It being therefore plain, that what moves itself, is eternal, who can deny the Nature of Souls to be such; for whatsoever is stirred by a foreign Impression, is inanimate; but every Animal is quickened by an inward Motion, and of its own; for that is the proper Nature and Power of the Soul; which if it be the only of all Substances, that always moves itself; neither was it in truth ever born, and is eternal.  
Let all the petty Philosophers (for so should they be called, in my opinion, who differ from Plato and Socrates, and that Family) let them come in to assist one another; they will not only never express any thing so neatly, but also never be able to discern where the stress of the Argument lies. The Soul therefore is sensible that it moves, and is withal sensible that it moves by its own, and no foreign Impulse; and that it can never be, that it should fail itself, from whence its Eternity is concluded, unless you have any reply to offer.  
S. I indeed, am well contented, to admit into my thought, no matter of questioning it, I have such a favour for that Opinion.  

(e) The Soul therefore is sensible that it moves.] The former Argument of Self-motion, being common to all living Creatures; might seem to conclude for the like Privilege to the Souls of brute Beasts which go downward, and return into the Power of that Matter, from whence they were educed: But Cicero restrains it to a reflex Act, of the understanding which properly flows from the rational Soul.    

SECT. XXIV. From the capaciousness of its memory.  
WHat do you think of these other Instances? Take you them to be of less moment? which manifest that there is somewhat Divine in the Souls of men; which could I perceive how they could have been born, I might also comprehend how they should die. For as to the Blood, Choler, Phlegm, Bones, Sinews, Veins, in a word, all the mould of the Limbs, and of the whole Body, methinks I could account for them, whereof they are compounded, and how they were formed from the Soul itself, if there accrued no other advantage, but that we lived by it; I should think the Life of man as much supported by Nature, as that of a Vine or other Plant; for we say, that they also live. Again, if the Soul of man had no other, Faculties, than those of desiring and avoiding; that too it would have in common with the Beasts. For the first instance, it hath memory, and that infinite, of innumerable things; so that Plato would have it to be the recalling to mind what was known in a former Life. For in that Book which is entitled Menon, Socrates asks a certain Youngster some Geometrical questions, about the content of a Square: He answers them, as a Child; and yet the Interrogatories are so easy, that the answer proceeding, step by step, cometh at length to that pass, as if he had learned Mathematics; from which Socrates would conclude, that to learn, is nothing else, but to refresh the Memory. Which Topick he explains much more accurately; yet in that Dialogue which he held, the very day wherein he submitted to the Execution of the Sentence passed upon his Life; wherein he teaches, that any one, let him seem utterly illiterate and unexperienced, if he answer directly to one that puts apt questions to him, doth make it manifest, that he doth not then learn those Matters anew, but only recollect what he had before in his memory. And that it were wholly impossible for us to have the Notions, which the Greeks call common, of so many, and so great things, from our Childhood imprinted, and as it were registered in our Souls, unless the Soul before it entered the Body, had been employed in understanding the World. And if it had been nothing, as is in all places disputed by Plato (for he thinks that to be nothing, which cometh by Generation, and turns to Corruption, and that only to have being, which is such always as he calls his Idea, we the Species or Kind) the Soul after it was locked up in the Body could not come to understand them, therefore it brought the knowledge of them with it hither; by which means all admiration of our knowing so many things ceases. Nor doth the Soul discern them on the sudden, after she is removed into such a strange and confused habitation, till she hath recollected and recruited herself, for than she recovers those dormant notices, by remembrance of them; so that Learning is nothing else, than a recalling to mind. Now I must confess, I do after an extraordinary manner, admire the memory; what is that faculty, whereby we remember? what is its force? or whence its nature? I do not demand about such a memory, as Simonides is said to have had; such as Theodectes; such as he who was sent Ambassador from Pyrrhus, to the Senate Cynaeas; such as Charmidas lately; such as in these times, the Scepsian Metrodorus; such as our Friend Hortensius. I speak of the common memory of men, and those especially who are trained up in any considerable Business or Art; the compass of whose mind, it is hard to estimate, so many things do they remember.  

(f) So that Plato would have it to be the recalling to mind, what was known in a former Life.] It is a known opinion of Plato, the pre-existence of Souls, too much favoured by Origen and Arnobius, perhaps to salve the Doctrine of original Sin, which they thought less reconcileable to the Souls Creation in its Infusion. But the truer account of such apprehension, seems to be from the common Notions, by natural instinct implanted in the rational Soul.    

SECT. XXV. Corollaries of the former Argument, from that of Invention.  
WHither now tends this whole Discourse? I think it would be understood what is this force, and whence it is: Certainly it proceeds not from the Heart, nor Blood, nor Brains, nor Atoms. Whether the Soul be Breath or Fire, I know not; nor am I ashamed, as some others are, to confess I do not know, what I do not. But this I can affirm, as much as of any thing else that is obscure, be the Soul Breath, or be it Fire, I durst be deposed it is Divine; for, I beseech you now, can you imagine that so great an ability of memory can be produced or compounded of Earth, or this gross Region of Air? You do not see what is its Nature: But what are its Qualities, you do see; or if you do not that neither, what is its quantity, to be sure you do see. How then do we conceive of it? whether do we think there is any concavity, into which, as into a Fat, we turn up the things which we remember? that is absurd: For what bottom, or what such Figure of the Soul can be imagined? or what Gage of so large a Size? Or do we take the Soul to be impressed as Wax, and the Memory for the Prints of things set down in the Mind, as in a Table-book? What Prints can there be of Words? what of the things themselves? Lastly, what Volume so vast, as to represent such numerous Nations? What think you should that Power be, which brings to light useful Secrets, which is called Invention, or Devising? or that it can be compounded of this earthly, mortal and frail Nature? What judge you of him, who the first imposed names on all things, which Pythagoras reckons a Work of the highest Wisdom? or who drew scattered men into Communities, and incorporated them for the mutual Support of Life? or who couched the Sounds of the Voice, which seemed infinite, into the marks of a few Letters? or who calculated the Courses, Progressions, Stations of the Planets. All of them were great Personages. Those of higher Antiquity yet, who found out Corn, who Clothing, who Houses, who the helps of living handsomely, who guards against wild Beasts; by whom being civilised and reclaimed, we naturally proceeded from the necessary, to the more polite Arts? for entertainment of the Ears, was in great measure found out and tempered, with variety of Notes and Voices. We looked up even to the Stars; both those which are fixed at certain distances, and those also which are not so in reality, but in name, only wand'ring Stars. All the motions and windings of which, the Soul, that first observed, gave at the same time proof, that it was like him who had fashioned them in Heaven. For when Archimedes locked up the motions of Sun, Moon, and the five other Planets, into his Sphere, he brought that to pass, which the God that in Timaeus, built the World, that one Revolution should adjust motions most unlike for speed and slowness. Which if it cannot be wrought in this World without God, neither could Archimedes in his Sphere, have imitated the same Motions, without a Divine Wit.   

SECT. XXVI. From further Endowments.  
IN my judgement, I must say, even these more familiar and illustrious Instances, seem not performable, without some Divine Power: so as I should think that either a Poet pours out a grave and accomplished Poem, without some heavenly Instinct of the Mind; or that any Eloquence, without some extraordinary impulse, can flow in a mighty Stream of lofty Words, and copious Sentences. And for Philosophy, the Mother of all Arts, what is it else; but, as Plato saith, the Gift, as I the Invention of the Gods? This first trained us up to their Worship; next, to Justice towards men, which consists in the Preservation of Societies: And lastly to Moderation and Courage, this also hath dispelled the darkness from our Souls, as from our Eyes, that we can behold the Extremities of Nature; what is above, below, first, midst, last. Truly this Power seems to me to be Divine, which can work so many, and so admirable Effects. For what is Memory of things and words? What is Invention? Certainly such, as no greater Perfections can be apprehended to be in God. Now, I am not of the mind, that the Gods take pleasure in Feasting on Nectar and Ambrosia, or in a Goddess of everlasting Youth, to bear their Cups: Nor do I believe Homer, who saith, that Ganymede was ravished by the Gods, for his Beauty, to fill Jupiter Drink; a Cause no way sufficient, why such an injury should be offered Laomedon. This was a mere Fiction of Homer's, who made Gods like men; I could have wished, he had rather made men like Gods. Wherein like Gods? in Activity, Wisdom, Invention, Memory. Therefore, the Soul, which, as I say, is Divine; as Euripides presumes to say, is a God; truly if God be either Spirit, or Fire, the same is man's Soul; for as that heavenly Nature is free both from Earth and moisture; so the humane Soul partakes of neither of them. But if it be a fifth Nature, first introduced by Aristotle; the same is common both to the Soul and God. Pursuant to which opinion, we thus expressed ourselves word for word, in our Book of Consolation.   

SECT. XXVII. From its Divine Original.  
ORiginal of Souls, none can be found here on Earth, for there is no mixture or composition in Souls, nor any appearance that they were born or moulded; nothing of Water, Wind, or Fire, for in these Natures there is nothing which hath a Power of Memory, Understanding, or Thought, which can both retain what is past, foresee what is to come, and comprehend what is present, which are Divine Properties; nor will it ever be made out, whence they could be derived upon man, but from God. There is then a peculiar Nature and Power of the Soul, distant from these visible and known Natures. Whatever therefore is that Principle which hath Sense, which hath Wisdom, which hath Will, which hath Activity, it is Celestial and Divine, and therefore, must of necessity be eternal. Nor in truth can God himself, as he is understood of us, be otherwise apprehended, than as a Spirit uncontrolled and free, separate from all mortal Contagion, perceiving all things, and moving all things, and being itself endued with everlasting Motion.   

SECT. XXVIII. From its Faculties.  
THE Spirit of man is of this lineage, and of the same Nature. Where therefore, or of what likeness is that Spirit? Where is yours, or of what likeness? Can you resolve me? If I am not able to understand all things, which I wish I were able to do, will you not allow to make use of such Abilities as I have? The Soul hath not that Power, as to see its self; but the Soul as the Eye, though it see not itself, beholds other things. It sees not what is of small import, it's own form. Perhaps so, though as to that— but forbear we it. It sees to be sure its Power, Pregnancy, Memory, Motion, Quickness; these are great, these are divine, these are everlasting Excellencies. What shape it is of, or where it dwells, is not to be enquired: As when we see first the face and brightness of Heaven; then so great a swiftness of Circumvolution, as we cannot conceive: Next, the Succession of days and nights, and fourfold alteration of Seasons, fitted to the ripening of Corn, and temperature of Bodies: Then the Sun, Captain and Ruler over all these; as also the Moon, which by her waxing and waning, doth distinguish, and as it were, point at the days of the Calendar: Further, that in the same Orb, divided into twelve parts, the other five Planets do move, keeping constantly their proper Periods, though unequal to one another; and withal, the lustre of the Fir mament, on all parts bespangled with Stars, than the Globe of the Earth standing above the Sea, fixed in the middle of the Universe, inhabited and peopled in two distant Regions; the one of which, where we dwell, is placed under the Pole, by the Northern Bear, whence.  Blust'ring cold Boreas' Banks of driven Snow raises. 
The other is Southern, unknown to us which the Greeks call under the opposite Pole; the remaining three parts are uninhabited, as being either starved with cold, or scorched with heat; but here, where we inhabit, without failure.  
The Air grows mild; new Liveries grace the Woods;  
Luxuriant Vines shoot forth young Grapes and Buds;  
Fruit-trees with loaded Boughs, incline their heads;  
Springs pearl; Grass diapers the flowery Meads.  
Furthermore, the multitude of Cattle, some for Food, some for Agriculture, some for Carriage, some for Clothing; and man himself, as it were, Contemplator of Heaven, and the Gods, and Worshipper of them; but all Lands and Seas subservient to Man's use.  


(g) The remaining three parts are uninhabited.] The ancient Romans knew little more than the Northern temperate Zone; but concluded the like of the Southern. But our Navigations and Voyages have discovered the whole Torrid Zone to be inhabited; and part of the Northern Frigid to be so; by which the like may be inferred of part of the Southern Frigid. Nor doth any part of the World seem uncapable of Habitation at some Seasons of the year; though less commodious, as Carpenter disputes in his Decades.   

(h) But here, where we inhabit.] He slides into an indirect Commendation of Italy, as the Paradise of the World.     

SECT. XXIX. From its Nature.  
WHEN we behold therefore these, and innumerable other things, can we doubt, but that there presides over this frame, either the maker, if these things were produced, as is the judgement of Plato; or if they were from Eternity, as is the opinion of Aristotle, a director of so great a Work and Administration? Thus the mind of man, although you see it not, as you do not see God, yet as you acknowledge God from his Works, so from the memory of things, and invention and swiftness of motion, and the whole beauty of Virtue, acknowledge the Divine Power of the mind. In what place then is it? I take it to be in the head. And why take it to be there? I can give my reason, but at another time. Now for where the Soul should be? To be sure 'tis within you. What is its Nature? Proper I think, and by itself. But suppose it of Fire; suppose it of Breath, that imports nothing to the matter in hand: Only look to this, that as you know God, although you are ignorant both of his place and shape, so ought your Soul to be known to you, although you are ignorant both of its place and form. Now in the knowledge of the Soul, we can no ways doubt of this, unless we be mere Dunces in natural Philosophy, that there should be any mixture in Souls, any composition, any conjunction, any cementing, any thing double; which so being, neither can it be separated nor divided, nor torn, nor drawn asunder, nor, by consequent, die; for death is as it were a Departure, a Separation, and Disunion of those parts which before death were held together by some common tye. By these and the like Reasons, Socrates being moved, neither sought to an advocate in the Trial for his Life, nor petitioned his Judges, but demeaned himself with an unconcerned stoutness, derived not from the bravery of his Spirit, not from Pride. And on the last day of his Life discoursed much on this very Subject; and a few days before, when he might easily have been released out of Prison, would not. And when he was ready to take that deadly potion into his hand, spoke after such manner, as that he seemed not driven to Death, but ascending up to Heaven.  

ay When he might easily have been released out of Prison, would not.] Crito would have deposited a great Sum, Simmias the Theban had brought more. Other Fellow-Students would have made a common Purse to have wrought upon the Keepers, the Informers, and some of the Indigent Magistrates; but he would not escape by such indirect and dishonourable Practices.    

SECT. XXX. From the Authority of Socrates and Cato.  
FOR thus he maintained, and thus he argued. There are two ways, and a double Post-road for Souls, when they go out of the Body. For they who had polluted themselves with the Vices of the World, and abandoned themselves wholly to Lusts, with which being blinded, they had defiled themselves, as it were with Hereditary Family Vices, and Scandals, or had committed inexpiable Villainies in the overthrow of the State, that these were carried in a By-road, debarred from the blessed Assembly of the Gods. But those who had kept themselves pure and uncorrupt, and had contracted least infection from their Bodies, but had always drawn themselves into retirement from them, and in humane Bodies had imitated the life of God, that such had an easy and open return to those from whom they came; and then he recounts how Swans, which are not without reason, dedicated to Apollo; but because they seem to have the Gift of Divination from him, by which foreseeing what benefit there is in death, they die with Melody and Pleasure, so should all good and learned men do. Nor could any one doubt of this, unless it fared with us, when we think earnestly about our Souls, as it is wont to do with those that gaze steadfastly upon the Sun in Eclipse, that they quite lose their sight; so the eye of the mind, looking nearly into itself, is sometimes dazzled; and by that very means we let go the intenseness of Contemplation. Therefore our whole discourse upon the Subject, proceeds with suspense, viewing round the Coast, demurring, crusing forward and backward, as a small Pinnace beats about in the vast Ocean. But these are old Instances, and fetched from the Greeks. Now Cato of late, so parted with life, as that he was glad he had gotten an occasion of dying. For that Vicegerent of God, which Rules within us, lays a strict Injunction, not to depart hence without his leave: But when God himself shall give a just Cause, as he did Socrates then, Cato now, and many often; then truly will the Wise man joyfully escape out of this darkness, into the light. Nor yet will he break Prison, for the Laws defend that; but being so discharged and dismissed by God, as by a Magistrate, or lawful Authority, he will depart. For the whole Life of Philosophy, as the same Author saith, is a Meditation of Death.   

CHAP. XXXI. From the Sequestering itself from the Body, in Meditation as in Death.  
NOW what else do we, when we call of our mind from following Pleasure, that is, the Body? from minding our Estate, that is, the Servant of the Body? when we withdraw it from managing State-Affairs, and all business? What, say I, do we then, but call the Soul home, oblige it to dwell within itself, and draw it to the farthest distance from the Body? Now to abstract the Soul from the Body, is nothing else than to exercise dying. Wherefore, take my word, let us practise this, and sit loose from our Bodies, that is, accustom ourselves to die. This, both whilst we shall be on Earth, will be like the Life of Heaven; and when being set at liberty from these Bonds, we shall ascend thither; by this means the agility of our Souls will be less clogged. For they who have always been held fast bound in the Fetters of the Body, even when they are knocked off, tread more gently, as they who have been many years loaded with Irons. But when we shall come thither, then shall we live in truth, for this Life is but a Death; which, if I were so disposed, I could lament.  S. 
That you have enough lamented, in your Book of Consolation; which when I read, I desire nothing more, than to leave this World; but upon hearing the present Discourse, I am much more desirous to do so.  M. 
The time will come, and that speedily, and that, whether you draw back or hasten; for Life is upon the Wing; but Death is so far from being an Evil, as you lately thought; that I doubt whether any thing else be, I say not, no evil; but any thing else be a greater good; for we shall be either Gods, or with the Gods.  S. 
What availeth it? for there are many among us, that give no credit to these things.  M. 
Now will I never, in this debate, part with you on such Terms, as that you should be of opinion, that death is evil.  S. 
How can I, now I have been thus informed?  M. 
How can you, do you ask? there will come upon you whole troops of Gain-sayers; and those not only Epicureans, whom for my part I do not despise, though best Scholars generally do contemn: But my dear Dicaearchus hath most earnestly disputed against this immortality of Souls; for he wrote three Books called Lesbian, because the debate was held at Mitylenae, wherein he would prove that Souls are Mortal; the Stoics they prorogue us, as Crows, to a late day of Death; for they allow Souls to abide long, but not for ever.  


(k) In your Book of Consolation] Upon the occasion of his beloved Daughter Tullia dying in Childbed, Tully drew up into a Treatise, all the Heads of comfort and distress delivered by the ancient Philosophers, and applied them for his own use; which Book is lost; though there go about a piece under that name.   

(l) They prorogue us, as Crows, to a late day of death.] This is a Tradition from Hesiod, that Crows live nine Lives of a man. Aristotle denies it, and affirms only the Elephant to outlive man.     

SECT. XXXII. The Adversaries of the Souls Immortality confuted.  
HAVE you a mind therefore, to hear how, though it should be so; yet there is no evil in Death?  S. 
Use your pleasure; but no one shall ever beat me out of Immortality.  M. 
I commend you for that; but it is good, not to be too confident; for we often give upon some subtle Argument; are shaken, and change our Judgement, even in clearer Matters, for there is some obscurity in these. Therefore, if such a rencontre should happen, let us be armed.  S. 
Well advised, but I will watch that it may not happen.  M. 
Have you then any thing to allege, why we should not dismiss our Friends the Stoics; those, I mean, who allow that Souls abide after they are gone out of the Body, but not always?  S. 
Ay, those Gentlemen who maintain that which is most difficult in this whole dispute, that the Soul may subsist in a separate condition; but do not yield that which is not only easy to be believed, but consequent upon that which they have granted; that the Soul, after it hath long survived, should not at all dye.  M. 
You rightly reprove them. Should we then believe Panaetius, dissenting from his Master Plato. Him that in all places he calls the Divine, the Wisest, the Holiest, the Homer of the Philosophers; yet this only Tenet of his, about the Immortality of the Soul, he doth not approve; for he affirms, what no body denies, that whatsoever is born dyes; but Souls are born, as the likeness of Children, to their Parents, makes evident, which appears in their Wits also, nor only in their Bodies. He brings another Argument for it. Nothing suffers pain, but what may also be sick, and what is liable to disease, that must die; but Souls suffer pain, they therefore must die.  


(m) Who allow that Souls abide, after they are gone out of the Body, but not always.] The Stoics held the Soul to be a hot Breath; that is, a Body compounded of Air and Fire, so consequently subject to Dissolution, but not suddenly upon expiring. The Souls of the loose and debauched, they fancied to abide a time accordingly shorter; but those of the just and resolute, to the next Conflagration of the World.   

(n) The Homer of the Philosophers.] Not only because as Homer led and excelled in Poetry, so Plato in Philosophy; but also more, because as the continued Epique Poem of Homer, was that rich Spring, from whence the following Poets drew the partial Arguments of their Poetry; so the Dialogues of Plato, are that well-stored Repertory of Wisdom, from whence the succeeding Philosophers have set up their several Sects, with their respective Opinions. So that, what the one furnished in gross, the others deal out by retail.     

SECT. XXXIII. The Arguments of Panaetius answered.  
THESE Reasons may be disproven, for they proceed from ignorance, that when there is speech about the Eternity of Souls, it is meant of the Understanding, which is always free from any turbulent Motion; not of those parts wherein Passions, Wrath, and Lusts inhabit; which he, against whom these Objections are raised, supposeth removed from the Understanding, and lodged in distinct Apartments. For likeness, more appeareth in Beasts, whose Souls have no reason. But the likeness of men, is more visible in the shape of their Bodies; and the Souls themselves, it much imports, in what kind of Body they be lodged; for there proceed many Impressions from the Body, which quicken the understanding, many which dull it. Aristotle indeed saith, that all ingenious men are of a melancholy Complexion; so that I have the less reason to be troubled, that I am none of the quickest. And, as if the Problem were agreed upon, subjoins a reason, why it cometh to be so. Now if there be such great influence, see the Production in the Body, upon the habit of the Mind (and these, whatever they be, are all that maketh the likeness) the likeness of Soul, infers no necessity, why it should be born. To pass likeness, would Panaetius could be present; he lived with Africanus, I would inquire of him, whom of all his Kindred, was Africanus' Brother's Grandson like? In shape, his very Father; in life, so like any Villain, that he was by far, the basest of all. Like to whom too, was the Grandchild of P. Crassus, both a wise and eloquent man; as also the Sons and Grandsons of many other excellent Personages, whom it is no ways material to name on this occasion? But what drive we at? have we forgot that this is the Scope of our present discourse, after we had spoken sufficiently upon Eternity; further to prove that there is no evil in death, though Souls were also to be extinct.  S. 
True, I minded it, but all the while you were discoursing upon Eternity, was willing you should run on wide of the Point in hand.  


(o) He against whom these Objections are raised.] Plato.   

(p) Aristotle indeed saith, that all ingenious men are of a melancholy Temper.] In his Problems, Sect. 30. Choler adust hath the predominancy in them, and they are upon the confines of madness.     

SECT. XXXIV. Upon Supposition of the Souls mortality, death is not evil, being a departure from evils.  M. 
YOU look high, I see; and would fain be removing to Heaven: I hope that will be our portion; but suppose, as those Gentlemen would have it to be, that Souls do not remain after death; I see we are cut off from the hopes of a more blessed Life, but what evil doth that opinion import? Suppose the Soul so to perish, as the Body, is there then any pain, or indeed any sense at all in the Body after death? No body saith so; although Epicurus chargeth that on Democritus, his Followers deny it; neither is there any sense therefore left in the Soul; for that itself is no where; where then is the Evil; for there is no third Subject; is it because the parting of the Soul from the Body, passeth not without pain? Should I believe it to be so, how small a business is that? and I take it to be untrue, for it happens frequently without Sense, nay sometimes with Pleasure. And that whole concern, make the most of it, is of small import, for it endureth but a Moment. That consideration perplexeth, or rather torments, a departure from all those things which are good in this Life. Look whether it may not more truly be said from the Evils thereof. Why should I now bewail man's Life? I might truly, and have title to do so; but what needs it, when I am labouring to take off the opinion, that we shall be miserable after death, to make even Life more miserable, by bemoaning it? We have done this in that Book wherein we comforted ourselves, as much as we could. Therefore, to state the question aright, Death withdraws us from Evils, not from Goods. This Point was so largely debated by Hegesias the Cyrenaick, that he is reported to have been prohibited by King Ptolemy, to dispute publicly on that Subject, because many upon the hearing it, made themselves away. Callimachus hath an Epigram upon Cleombrotus the Ambraciote; who, saith he, had no misfortune befell him; but upon reading Plato's Dialogue, threw himself from the Wall into the Sea. And that Hegesias, whom I mentioned, left a Book, entitled, The resolved Passenger; because one departing out of Life, by forbearing to eat, is dissuaded by his Friends, whom he answers, by reckoning up the Miseries of man's Life. I could do the like, though not to that degree as he, who thinks it expedient for none at all to live. Others I wave. Is it expedient for us to do so, who being stripped of the Comforts and Ornaments both of Family and Court; had we died before, Death had most assuredly removed us from Evils, and not from Goods.   

SECT. XXXV. Or from uncertain Goods.  
SUppose we then, one that has no Evil, hath met with some misfortune; Metellus the Honourable had four Sons; Ay, but Priam had fifty, and seventeen of them born of his lawful Wife. Fortune had the same power over both, though she made use of it only upon one; for many Sons, Daughters, Grandsons, Granddaughters, laid Metellus in the Grave: but the hand of an Enemy slew Priam before the Altar, where he had taken Sanctuary, after the loss of so numerous a Progeny. Had he been deceased, whilst his Children survived, the State of the Empire continued firm.  
By Barbary Guards attended,  
In Palace carved and vaulted.  
Resolve me whither he had departed from Goods or Evils? from Goods, he would at that time have thought. But in truth it had fallen out better for him, nor had that Ditty been sung to so lamentable a Tune.  
All these I saw in Ashes lain,  
Priam by the proud Victor slain,  
Jove's sacred Altar blood profane.  
As if at that time any thing could have befallen him, better than Death. Now had he been taken away before, he had escaped those Evils; but being so at this time, he lost the Sense of them. Our Friend Pompey, after a sore Sickness at Naples, was pretty well recovered; the Neapolitans put on Garlands; so did the Burghers of Puteoli, no doubt. The adjacent Towns deputed Members of their own to congratulate him in the Name of their Corporations; a formal piece of insignificant Courtship, to say truth, and like the Greeks, but yet successful. Pray then inform me, if he had at that time died, would he have been taken away from good or evil things? To be sure he had from unhappy ones; for than would he not have been engaged in a War with his Father-in-law; he would not have taken up Arms, without any Preparation; he would not have left home; not fled out of Italy; he had not, after the loss of his Army, fallen naked into the hands and Poignard of Slaves; his Children had not been left in a deplorable condition, and all his Fortunes possessed by the Conqueror. He that by departing then, had died in a most honourable Estate, by prolonging his Life, how many, great, and incredible Calamities did he suffer?  

(q) Metellus the Honourable, had four Sons.] Qu. Caecilius, Metellus Macedonicus had been himself Consul, Censor, Augur, and had triumphed over Andriscus the Mock - Philip, Usurper of the Kingdom of Macedon; he saw three Sons Consuls, whereof one Censor, and Triumphal; also a fourth Praetor. These he left all in good Estate, and three Daughters Married, by whom and his numerous Progeny, he was accompanied at his Funeral, having lived the Favourite of Fortune, indulgent to the last.    

SECT. XXXVI. Such as we shall not miss.  
THESE accidents are escaped by dying, although they never actually befall us, yet because of their possibility: But men do not consider themselves liable to these chances; every one hopes for Metellus' Fortune: As though either there were more fortunate than unhappy; or there were any certainty in man's Estate; or it were more prudent to hope than fear. But be this granted, that men are deprived of their good things, by death, is it therefore consequent, that the Dead lack the Conveniencies of Life, and that it is a miserable thing so to do? To be sure they must say so. Can he that hath no Being, be in want of any thing? the very name of want is sad, because it imports thus much. The man had something, hath it not; desireth, looketh after, needeth it. These are, I take it, the Inconveniencies of want. One wants Eyes; to be blind is uncomfortable: Another Children; so is it to be Childless. This holds in the Living; but none of the Dead want any comforts of Life; no, nor Life itself. I speak of the Dead, which have no Being; we who have a Being, though we are without Horns or Wings, would any one of us say he wanted them? None, I trow. For if one have not that which is neither for his use, nor agreeable to his Nature; he doth not want it, though he is sensible he hath it not. This Argument is to be urged over and over, when that is made out, which is unquestionable upon supposition of the Souls mortality; but that there is so total an Abolition in death, as that there is not left the least Suspicion of any Sense. This therefore being fully resolved, it must be strictly searched, to find what it is to want, that so there be no ambiguity left in the Term. Want therefore, is the being without that, which one desireth to have; for desire is employed in missing, unless in such case, as when we speak of having missed the Fit of an Ague, in a more restrained notion of the word. The term of wanting is farther used in another Sense, when one is without a thing, and sensible that he is without it, and yet not much concerned about it; but to want any evil, is not properly spoken, for that would import no sorrow for it. The opposite is properly said to want good, which is evil; but neither doth the Living want what he doth not need. Yet it may be understood, of a living man, that he wants a Kingdom; now this cannot, with any Logical Truth, be said of you; it might of Tarquin, when he was deposed and banished from his Kingdom; but the term can by no means be understood of a dead man; for want is proper to one that hath Sense; but the Dead have no Sense; therefore neither do the Dead want. Though what need we syllogise on this Point; since we see the matter stands in no such great need of Logic?   

SECT. XXXVII. Since it hath not appeared dreadful, even to common Soldiers.  
HOW often have, not only our Commanders, but whole Armies also charged the Enemy, without any probability of coming back alive? Had death been to be feared, L. Brutus would never have hindered the return of that Tyrant, which himself had expelled, by losing his Life in the Engagement. Nor would Decius the Father in Battle with the Latins, the Son of the Etrurians, and Grandson with Pyrrhus, have run upon the Point of the Enemies Sword. Spain had not seen the two Scipio's in one War, fall for their Country; Cannae, Paulus Aemilius; Venusia, Marcellus; the Latins, Albinus; the Lucanians, Gracchus; is any one of these at this day miserable? No, nor immediately after they had expired; for none can be miserable, who is insensible. But that very thing is grievous, to be without Sense; grievous indeed, if one were to miss it. But it being notorious, that he can be nothing, who hath himself no Being; what can be grivous to him, who is without any thing; and hath no Sense that he is so? Although we have inculcated this Argument too often already; but for this purpose, because all that distress of mind which ariseth from the apprehension of death, is grounded on this. For whosoever shall sufficiently perceive what is clearer than the light, that upon perishing of Body and Soul together, and the whole living Creature being destroyed, and an utter Abolition made of the entire compound; that Animal which was before, is annihilated; he will clearly discern, that there is no difference between a flying Horse, which never was, and King Agamemnon: And that M. Camillus doth now no more regard this Civil War, than I did the taking of Rome when he was alive. Why then would both Camillus have grieved, had he thought these things would have come to pass about three hundred and fifty years after; and should I grieve, if I thought any Foreign Nation would be Masters of our City ten thousand years hence? Because the dearness of our Country is so great, that we measure it, not by our Sense, but it's own safety.  

(r) L. Brutus.] L. Junius Brutus, the first Roman Consul, after the expulsion of Tarquin, in a Battle for the reducing him, charged Aruns the Son of Tarquin so furiously, that they gave each the other his death's wound. Decius Must, the Father in the War with the Latins, made a solemn Vow, to take no Quarter, that he might purchase the Romans Victory; the like did Decius Must, the Son, being a fourth time Consul in the Tuscan War; and Decius Must the Grandson, at that time Consul, in the Engagement with Pyrrhus' King of Epirus, fell in the desperate Encounter, a third Sacrifice for the deliverance of his Country, out of the same Line successively. In the second Punic War, P. Scipio (Father of the elder Africanus) commanding in Spain, was run thorough with a Lance; and nine and twenty days after, Cn. Scipio his Brother was killed, and all his Soldiers with him, the Tower being set on fire, into which they had fled. At Cannae Fight Paulus Aemilius the Consul, with 45000 Romans, were slain. Marcellus, surnamed the Sword of Rome, having first beaten Hannibal at Nola, where he slew the Captain in chief, hand to hand, was intercepted in a March between Venusia and Bautia, where he was cut off with his Party. Sempronius Gracchus having routed the Carthaginians at Beneventum, through the Treachery of Flavius a Lucanian, with whom he quartered, was killed by Mago in Lucania. Aulus Albinus encountered the Latins so vigorously, as that he fell in the Charge.    

SECT. XXXVIII. Much less to hinder promoting the public good. But as Death is not terrible, so neither is it amiable.  
THerefore Death, which by reason of uncertain Casualties, is daily imminent, and because Life so is short, can never be far off, doth not yet deter a wise man from providing for the State and his own Family for all future Ages; and from thinking that Posterity, though he shall have no Sense of it, is his concern. Upon which ground, he that is of the judgement, that the Soul is mortal, may yet lay designs for Eternity, not out of desire of glory, whereof he shall have no Sense, but of Virtue, which Glory necessarily follows, though you make it not your aim. Now this is natural, that as our Birth giveth us an entrance into the business of this World, so Death should give our Exit from it. Which, as before our Birth, it nothing concerned us, so neither shall it after Death. Herein what Evil can there be, since Death is the concern neither of the Living, nor the Dead; the latter cease to be, it attaches not the former. Those who speak in a slighting way of it, would have it nearest resemble a dead Sleep, as though any one would choose so to live to ninety years, as that when he had arrived at sixty, he should sleep the rest. Swine would not make such option, much less any man. But Endymion, if we will hearken to Fables, fell, I cannot tell when, a sleep in Latmos, which is a Mountain of Caria; and is not, I suppose, yet awake. Do you judge, therefore, that he regards when the Moon is eclipsed; for he is reputed to have been cast into a deep trance by her, that she might kiss him as he sleeps; regard it, how should he, when he is not sensible of it? You have sleep, the Image of Death; every day it cometh upon you; and do you make question, whether there be Sense in Death, when you experience there is none in its resemblance?   

SECT. XXXIX. The opinion of untimely Death examined.  
AWAY then with these Sayings, little better than fit for old Wives; that it is miserable to die before ones time: What time, I pray? that of Nature? Now she hath lent Life, as Cash, at no day certain of payment prefixed; what reason then have you to murmur, if she calls in her own when she pleaseth, since you received it upon that condition? The same Persons, if a Child die young, think it ought to be born patiently, and if in the Cradle, without any complaint. Yet nature hath more rigorously exacted of him, her Loan. He had not as yet, say they, tasted the sweets of Life; but this other had entertained great expectations, and had already begun the enjoyment of them. Now in all other benefits, the very having get some share, is counted better than to get none at all. Why should it be otherwise in Life? However, Callimachus, say not unhandsomely, that Priam wept much oftener than Troilus. But their fortune is commended, who die of Age. Why? because, I warrant, had their life been longer, it could not have been so pleasant. Certainly nothing is so sweet to man; as Wisdom: Now though old Age impair us in other things, yet it improves us in that. But what Age is long? or indeed what can man long have? lately Children, and presently after Youths; doth not old Age, pursuing close behind, in the Race overtake us ere we are aware? But we count this long, because we have nothing further to proceed to. All these accounts pass for long or short, according to the proportion they bear, with the space allotted to each kind. By the mouth of the Hypanis, which on the side of Europe, falleth into the Black-Sea; Aristotle reports certain Infects to be bred, that live but one day. Such therefore, of these, as die at two in the Afternoon, die elderly; but such, as at Sunset, very aged; and the more, if it be on the longest day in Summer. Compare our life, at longest, with Eternity; we shall be found, in a manner, as short-lived as are these Infects.   

SECT. XL. We must live in our places undaunted, and when our time is come, die contented, after the example of Theramenes.  
DEspise we therefore, all Fooleries, (for what slighter name can I give this weakness?) And let us place the whole stress of living well in constancy and bravery of Spirit, and contempt of the World, and in the exercise of all Virtue. But now we break our Hearts with most unmanly thoughts, so that if Death come upon us, before we have met with the good luck read us by Fortune-tellers, we look upon ourselves as mocked, abused, and robbed of some great Advantages. Whereas, if we are held in suspense, tormented and fretted with linger Expectations: Good God How cheerfully should we enter upon that Journey, which being performed, there will be no further disquiet, nor anxiety of mind? How taking, and of what gallant Spirit is Theramenes? for though we cannot choose but cry, when we read the Story, yet a brave man never dyeth pitifully. When he had been imprisoned, by order of the Council of State, consisting of thirty Tyrants, and had taken of the Poison, in a hearty draught, as though he had been adry; the small remainder he so flung out of the Cup, as that it dashed against the ground; then smiling, said, Here is to Critias the fair, who had been his most mortal Enemy. For it is the Grecian Mode, in their Feasts, to name whom they would have pledge them, This excellent Person broke a Jest with his parting breath; and was a true Prophet of that death, which soon after overtook him who had been the occasion of his suffering by Poison. Who could commend this indifferency of mind, at the very point of Death, if he judged death to be evil? A few years after, Socrates goeth into the same Prison, and to the same Cup, by the same perfidiousness of Judges, as Theramenes did of Tyrants. What, therefore, was that Speech which Plato maketh him to have made to the Judges, after his Condemnation.  

(s) And was a true Prophet of that death, which soon after overtook him.] Theramenes being offended at the Cruelty and Oppression of his Fellow-Commissioners, towards their Countrymen, was for terrors sake put to death. Upon which there was a rout among the Athenians, that were but suspected of Moderation; and Greece was filled with Atticks in Banishment; till soon after, they banding under Thrasybulus, took Phylomuse, distant from Athens twelve Miles; and in a first Engagement with the Tyrants, having the better in a second, slew Critias, with Hippomachus, dissolved the Government, and freed Athens from the Lacedaemonian Yoke.    

SECT. XLI. Socrates.  
My Lords,  
I AM in great hopes (saith he) that it will turn to my advantage, that I am put to death: For one of the two things must of necessity be, that death either quite takes away all Sense, or is a removal from this, into some other place. Wherefore, whether all Sense be extinguished, and death be like that sleep, which sometimes giveth a most sweet rest, undisturbed by Dreams; good God? what gain is it to die? or how many days can be found, preferrible to such a night as the perpetual Duration of the following time shall present? Who then so happy as I? but if, what is said, be true, that death is a removal into those Coasts, which those, who are hence departed, inhabit, that is yet far more happy, when you have passed through pretended Judges, to come before real ones, such as are Minos, Rhadamanthus, Aeacus, Triptolemus, and to consort with those who have lived justly, and with integrity. Can therefore this Journey seem to you unpleasant? But to confer with Orphaeus, Musaeus, Homer, Hesiod, at what rate would you purchase? For my part, if it were possible, I could be content to die many times over, if I could find what I now mention. Then what incredible satisfaction would it be to me, when I should accost Palamedes, Ajax, and others, circumvented by the Sentence of corrupt Judges? Furthermore, I would sound the Wisdom of that Monarch, who led the numerous Army against Troy; of Ulysles, and of Sisyphus: nor should I, because I made such inquiries, as here I have done, be therefore sentenced to die. You then, my Lords, such as have voted me not guilty, never be afraid of Death; for no evil can befall any good man, either alive or dead; nor are his concerns ever disregarded by the Divine Providence; neither is this befallen me by blind chance; nor have I any reason to be offended at those by whom I was accused, or at those by whom I am condemned, save only this, that they intended my harm. These things I thus consider, and judge, that nothing could fall out better. But, saith he, it is time to depart hence, for me, that I may die; for you, that ye may live; now, whither of these two be better, God above knows, but no man on Earth, I think, can tell.   

SECT. XLII. The Spartans'.  
NOW had I rather have this gallant Spirit, than all their Fortunes who past Judgement upon him: though as to his disowning, that any, besides God, knows which is better: he knows it himself, for he hath told it before: but he retains to the last, that Principle of his, not to be positive in any thing. Now hold me this steadfastly, that nothing can be evil which is allotted all by Nature: And consider, that if death be Evil, it is an everlasting Evil; for of a miserable Life, Death seemeth to be the end: but if Death be miserable, there can be no end of the Misery. Now what do I mention Socrates, or Theramenes, men excelling in the Glory of Virtue and Wisdom; when a certain Lacedaemonian, whose name is not so much as Recorded, did so much despise Death, as when he was condemned by the Ephori, and led to Execution upon looking cheerfully, and with a merry Countenance, when a certain Enemy challenged him, and said, do you slight the Laws of Lycurgus? He answered, Nay, but I take myself to be much beholden to him, who hath laid that Fine upon me, which I shall be able to pay, without either Loane, or taking up upon Interest. O Citizen worthy of Sparta! Insomuch as that he who suffered so bravely, seemeth to have been condemned unjustly. Innumerable such Instances hath our Government produced; but why name I Princes and Commanders, when Cato writes, that whole Legions have often marched up with Alacrity, to the place from whence they never expected to return? with like Courage did the Lacedæmonians fall at Thermopylae; upon whom Simonides,  
Friend, tell at Sparta, here thou saw'st us slain,  
Our Country's Laws established, to maintain.  
What saith the Captain General Leonidas? Good cheer! fall on my Lacedæmonians, we may chance to Sup in the other World. That was a stout Nation, whilst the Laws of Lycurgus were in force. One of them, when another of the Persian Party, said in a vaporing way, We shall Eclipse the Sun, our flight of Arrows will be so thick; replied, Then we shall fight in the shade. I mention men; what was that Lacedaemonian Dame, who having sent her Son to the Wars, and hearing that he was killed, said, To that end brought I him into the World, that there might be one who should be contented to die for his Country.  


(t) A certain Lacedaemonian.] Called by Plutarch in his Laconic replies, Thrictamenes.   

(u) By the Ephori.] A Bench of High Justicers consisting of five, who by the softness of the Spartan Kings, grew to that height, as to have Power of calling in question the Royal Proceedings in Government; but Lycurgus made no such Constitution.   

(w) At Thermopylae.] The ridge of Thessalian Hills, which parts Greece as the Apennine Italy; at the Thermopylae is a Pass made good by Leonidas, with three hundred Spartans' against Xerxes and his mighty Army, with the slaughter of innumerable Persians; till by the treachery of one Ephialtes, the Enemy was brought round another way, and out off all the Spartans', who were buried in a common Grave; upon which was erected a Pillar, with the Inscription made by Simonides.     

SECT. XLIII. And Theodorus the Cyrenian. A Digression to the Point of Burial.  
ALLOW all this; the Spartans' were tough and sturdy, the Country's Discipline hath great influence. What say we of Theodorus the Cyrenian, no mean Philosopher? do we not admire him? When King Lysimachus threatened he would Crucify him; Use, saith he, those dreadful Menaces to these your Courtiers: Theodorus careth not whether he rot on ground, or in the Air. By which saying of his, I am put in mind that it were proper to speak somewhat here to the Point of Interment and Burial; a matter of no great difficulty, especially after those Informations of being insensible, which have been even now premised: What was Socrates' Sense of the business, appeareth in a Dialogue, which relateth the manner of his death: about which we have already spoke so much; for having argued for the immortality of Souls, when the time of his dying pressed on, and he was asked by Crito, how he would be buried; Now much pains, saith he, have I laid out, Friends, to little purpose, for I have not persuaded our Companion Crito, that I shall fly away hence, and leave nothing of me here below. Nevertheless, Crito, if you can come at me, or shall find me any where, bury me, as you shall think fit: But believe me, when I shall have departed hence, none of you will reach me. An excellent reply, for he both left it to his Friend, and declared that he was upon the whole matter altogether indifferent. Diogenes was more churlish; though of the same mind, yet like a Cynic more roughly bid them fling him out of doors, without any burying: What, say his Friends, to the Birds and Beasts? By no means, saith he, but lay my staff by me, that I may beat them away. How can you do that, answered they, when you shall have no feeling? Oh! I shall have no feeling; what harm then will the tearing of wild Beasts do me? Bravely said Anaxagoras, who when he lay a dying at Lampsacus, and his Friends asked him, whither, if he should do otherwise than well, he would be carried to Clazomenae, his Country; answered, There is no need; for it is the same distance from all places, to the other World. Now upon the whole consideration of Burial, this Principle is to be held, that it relates to the Body, whether the Soul die or survive; it is also manifest, that whether the Soul be extinguished, or escaped, there remains no Sense in the Body.  

(x) At Lampsacus.] Anaxagoras was banished Athens, for speaking irreverently, as they judged it, of the Sun, which he called a Mass of glowing Iron.    

SECT. XLIV. Cruelty towards dead Enemies, and lamenting unburied Friends reproved.  
BUT all the World is full of mistakes; Achilles drags Hector tied at the Chariot's tail; sure he thinks him torn grievously: Therefore this the man doth, out of revenge, as he thinks. Again the Woman bewails it, as a very cruel matter.  
I saw, and at the sight my sad heart failed,  
Hector behind the flying Chariot trailed.  
What Hector? or how long will he continue Hector? Better saith Attius, and Achilles at length grown wise.  
Priam the Corpse I gave,  
But Hector took away.  
Thou didst not therefore drag Hector, but the Corpse which had been Hector's. Look! another peeps up from under ground, who cannot let his Mother sleep.  
Mother! whose care soft slumbers have beguiled,  
Nor pitiest me; rise, bury thy dead Child.  
When these Airs are played to a low and lamentable Tune, which raiseth compassion in whole theatres; it is hard not to judge them miserable who lie unburied. ere Birds and Breasts— He is afraid lest he should not have the use of his Limbs, if they be torn, but fears not, if they be burnt.  
Alas! what of the half-burnt King remained,  
Bare bones, lie trod on ground with gore distained.  
I understand not what he feareth, since he worketh out such sweet numbers to the sound of the Pipe. Hold we this then for a Maxim, that nothing is to be regarded after Death; though many take Vengeance on Enemies, even when they are dead. Thyestes in Ennius curseth his Brother in very ingenious Verses, wishing first, that Atreus might perish by Shipwreck; a dismal Fate! for such a kind of death is not without grievous pain; the rest is but empty sound.  
Pitched on a craggy Rocks sharp-pointed Top,  
There let him hang his Bowels panched,  
His sides upon the rough Spikes gaunched,  
On the stones, black gore and matter drop.  
Why? those very stones were not more void of all Sense, than he that is thus impaled, whom he thinks he wisheth it for a Torment. How grievous would they be, if he felt them; without Sense, they were no torture at all; that too, is wonderful idle.  
Nor of the Graves safe harbour be possessed,  
Where after life, his Corpse from harms may rest.  
You see upon how great a mistake all this runs on; he thinks the Grave to be the Body's Haven; and that when it is dead, it rests there: Pelops was much to blame, who had not taught his Son better; nor instructed him what regard was due to each thing.  


(y) The Woman.] Andromache, Hector's Wife, the couplet is taken out of a Tragedy of Ennius, of that name.   

(z) Look! another peeps up from under ground.] Priam's King of Troy, at the Greeks Invasion, had sent his youngest Son Polydore, with a great Sum of Money, to Polymester King of Thrace, who had married Iliona, the Princess Royal of Asia, his eldest Daughter, that he might be secured against the uncertain events of War: She tenderly brought him up as her own Son; but the Fortune of the Trojans being turned, the Tyrant, to curry favour with the Greeks, murders his Charge, flings him out unburied, and seizeth his Portion. Thhe Ghost of the murdered, appears to his ruputed Mother in her sleep, and demands burial. This passage is taken out of the Iliona of Pacuvius.   

(a) Alas! what of the half-burnt King.] These seem to be a distinct out of Ennius, spoken by Hecuba or Andromache, about King Priam, consumed or scorched in the Flames of Troy; with an allusion to the Greek way of burning the Corpse, or gathering the Ashes or Bones into Urns.     

SECT. XLV. The Customs about some Savages about Burial condemned. What decency to be observed in Interment of the Dead.  
BUT why do I take notice of private Opinions, when we may plainly see, the divers Errors of whole Nations? The Egyptians embalm their Dead, and keep them at home. The Persians over and above embalming, wrap them in Cerecloths, that the Body may continue as long as is possible entire. It is the Custom of the Magis, not to inter any of their Fellows, till their Bodies have been first torn in pieces with wild Beasts. In Hyrcania the Commons maintain Dogs at the public Charge, Noblemen in their Families. Now we know that is a generous Race of Mastiffs; but every one purchaseth them according to his Ability; and that they take for the best way of Burial. Chrysippus collects many other Instances, as being excellently well versed in all sorts of History, but some of them so loathsome, that civil Discourse doth nauseate and abhor the mentioning of them. Now this whole matter is to be despised by us, not neglected by our Friends; provided always that we judge the Bodies of the Dead, to have no Sense: yet how far Custom and common Fame is to be complied with, let the Living consider that, but so as to understand, that it no ways concerns the Dead. Now death is then to be received with the greatest content, when the decaying Life can comfort itself with a Reflection upon its past good Services. No man hath lived short of his time, who hath completely discharged the Office of an accomplished Virtue. Many things have occurred to render death seasonable to myself, which I wish had succeeded; for nothing of new Acquisition was afterwards made; the Duties of my Life were fully discharged; there remained only Combats with Fortune; wherefore if single reason cannot be prevalent enough to make us neglect Death, yet let our past Life so far prevail with us, as that we should think we have lived enough, and too long: For though Sense be gone, yet the dead do not want the highest and most durable Goods of Praise and Glory, however they perceive them not; for though Glory have nothing in itself, why it should be pursued, yet it follows Virtue as its shadow. The true judgement of the multitude, concerning good men; if at any time it be such, is more to be commended, than that those men should be happy for that reason.  

(b) So loathsome.] The Massagetes and Dervices counted their Friends miserable, if they died a natural Death; so when they grew Aged, first sacrificed them, and then feasted on their Flesh.    

SECT. XLVI. Glory after Death, should abate the fear of dying in Prosperity.  
NOW I cannot say, in whatever Sense it be taken, that Lycurgus, Solon do want the Glory of their Laws, and good Government of their Countries, that Themistocles, Epaminondas, want that of Martial Valour; and sooner shall Neptune swallow up Salamina itself, than the Memory of the Salaminian Trophy; and Leuctra shall be raised out of Boeotia, before the Glory of the Leuctrian Fight. Nay, much longer shall it be, before Fame shall forget Curius, Fabricius, Calatinus, the two Scipios, the two Africans, Maximus, Marcellus, Paulus, Cato, Laelius, innumerable others, whose Copy whosoever shall have transcribed, measuring it not by popular Fame, so much as the true Commendation of good Patriots; That man, if occasion shall so require, will, with unshaken Resolution, advance towards Death, wherein we know, there is either the greatest Good, or no Evil. Nay, he will choose to die, whilst he is still in a prosperous State; for the accession of superfluities which might be cast in, cannot be so pleasing, as the diminution of those just measures of good, already attained, will be grievous. To which purpose seemeth that word of the Lacedaemonian, when Diagoras the Rhodian, a noble Master in the Olympian Games, had seen two Sons in one day, win the Prize in the same Games, he came up to the old man, and gave him joy in these words, Dye Diagoras, for you would not mount up to Heaven and be immortal, The Greeks value that occasion highly, and perhaps overvalue it, or at least in those days did so, and he that spoke thus to Diagoras, looking upon it as an extraordinary Privilege, that three Victors in the Olympian exercises should come out of one Family, thought it disadvantageous to him, to tarry longer in this World, exposed to the vicissitudes of Fortune. Now have I, in short, as I thought, sufficiently answered you, for you had granted me, that the Dead were under no evil. But I have been earnest, the more to enlarge hereupon, because this is the greatest comfort in Mourning, and the loss of Friends; for we ought with patience to bear our own sorrow, and what is by choice brought upon us for our own concern; lest we be found guilty of self-love. That other surmise creates us intolerable disquiet, to think that those dear Friends, whose lost Society we lament, are in a State of feeling those miseries which men commonly conceive. This conceit I was desirous, utterly to remove from myself, and thereupon have been perhaps somewhat of the longest.  

(c) The Greeks value that occasion highly.] Nothing is so renowned as the Olympic Games amongst the Greeks; for Jumping, Running, Wrestling, Hurling, Pitching; for Horse-matches, and Chariot-Races, it was the Academy of all Greece. The Victors at those Games, were in that general Assembly of the Greeks, as in a Theatre of Glory, proclaimed, crowned, and returning home, received in Triumph into their respective Cities, where, all their Lifetimes after, they enjoyed exceeding great Immunities. These Masteries in bodily exercise, Tully doth not magnify, nor did Socrates before him, approve the fondness of his Countrymen, in deferring that parrade of Pomp on them; or their complacency in it, who valued themselves at that rate upon such account: but these prefer the University Learning, and those Studies which improve the Mind, better the Man, and promote good order in the Governvernment.    

SECT. XLVII. An Epilogue after the Mode of the Greek Rhetoricians, who would persuade us, that Death is the greatest good that can befall man, upon Divine Testimonies.  S. 
YOU of the longest? not in my judgement, I assure you, for the former part of your Discourse, wrought in me a desire to die. The latter, sometimes no unwillingness; other times an indifferency; but upon the whole Tenor of the Debate; there hath been effected a Conviction in me, not to account death among things evil.  M. 
Do we therefore still lack a Conclusion after the manner of Rhetoricians? or is it now time for us, quite to abandon that practice?  S. 
Nay, but do not you desert that Art which you have always advanced; and that with good reason; for That, to speak the truth, hath advanced you. But what is this Epilogue? for I would fain hear it, whatever it be.  M. 
They are wont, in Disputations, to produce the Judgement of the immortal Gods, in the case concerning Death: nor do they devise them themselves, but report them upon the Authority of Herodotus and divers others. First of all Cleobis and Biton, Sons of the Argive Priestess are magnified. The Story is well known, it being the received Ceremony, that she must ride in a Coach to a solemn and anniversary Sacrifice at the Temple, some good distance out of Town, and the Mules not being brought time enough, than the young men before named, stripping of their Garments, anointed their Bodies with Oil, put themselves into the Traces; so the Priestess lighting at the Temple, having had her Chariot drawn by her Sons, is said to have prayed the Goddess to bestow upon them a reward of their Piety, the greatest that could be given man by God. Afterwards the young men having feasted with their Mother, went to sleep, and were found dead in the Morning. A like Prayer Trophonius and Agamedes are said to have made; these having built the Temple to Apollo at Delphi, and coming to worship him, requested no small reward of their work and pains, specified nothing, but what were best for man. Apollo declared he would give it them the third day after, which day was no sooner come, but they were found dead. Here they say, that God hath determined the Question, and that God too, unto whom all the other Gods have deserved, above the rest, the power of Divination.  


(d) After the manner of Rhetoricians.] Tully having premised those Reasons, upon which he grounds the immortality, or removes the danger of death, other instances florid and specious, but which he esteemed less firm, he turns off to the Person of Greek Rhetoricians, whom he no where over-values.   

(e) They are wont, in Disputations, to produce the Judgements of the immortal Gods.] When any doubt ariseth, which affords matter of Debate; if a Divine Determination come once to be understood, all dispute ceaseth; the Case is overruled; without further appeal, man's Reason must acquiesce in the Will of God, as in a peremptory Sentence; against which, to oppose our private Conceptions, were intolerable Impiety. Nevertheless it is enjoined, our prudence with all due caution, to examine the Testimony, before it be admitted as such; lest, in our own wrong, we pay the Homage of Divine Faith, to humane Inventions. The Stoics were not forward in giving credit to Oracles, or any sort of Prognostication, suspected Soothsayers, Fortune-tellers, and Interpreters of Dreams. Those Ages which have most harkened to Apparitions and Visions, have brought in the greatest Errors▪ Strong Affections joined with weak Judgements, are apt to betray to Fanaticism. Nay, it is indulged our frailty, to consider upon what grounds we receive the Holy Scriptures; the Word of God is tried, and will abide the Test. The Sun at noon day shines not brighter, than the moral Evidences which verify the Parts and the Whole; but the Eyes of our Understandings are dim, and further darkened by the Interest of our inordinate Affections. S. Augustin in his Confessions, acknowledges his backwardness in assenting to revealed Truths; but with all humble modesty purgeth himself from a resolved suppressing its Convictions, or undervaluing its Author. There is a further caution necessary in the admission of such a Divine Testimony, to take it in its right Sense, and therefore to use all due means to be well informed of that. Our Souls are staked, not only against Faith, but the True Faith: Now, the greater the Sum charged is, the wise Merchant will take the better advice, before he allow the Bill of Exchange.   

(f) Nor do they devise them themselves, but report them upon the Authority of Herodotus and divers others.] The following Stories carry the name of great Authorities, but their Tradition is uncertain in a matter not self-evident; nor is Herodotus a responsible Voucher, his Narrations resembling the jonick Fables, sweet and delightful, sometimes strange even to Admiration; not with that plainness which is the usual Companion of Credibility. The like may be said of Homer; nor are Pindar and other Poets, or Mythologers sufficient Evidences in these Cases.     

SECT. XLVIII. Those of Demigods, Oracles, and in Panegyrical Commemorations of such as have died for their Country.  
THERE is told us a fine Tale about Silenus, who having been caught by Midas, is written to have given him this recompense for his release, that he taught the King. For man not to be born, is far the best; but next to that, to die speedily; to which Sense Euripides in his Cresphantes alluded.  
'Twere fit at the same House we met to mourn,  
Where any Child into the World is born;  
But who by death his painful days should end,  
Friends would his Obsequies with mirth attend.  
Somewhat to the same effect is found in Crantors' Book of Consolation, for he saith, that one Elisius a Terinese being greatly afflicted at the death of his Son, came into an Oratory to inquire what might be the Cause of so great a Calamity, and that three Verses to this purport were given him in a Table-Book.  
Here men in darkness, stray without a guide;  
A natural death thy Son Enthynous died,  
Thus best for him and thee, did Fates provide.  
Upon these, and like Authorities, they prove that the cause hath been decided by a Divine Sentence. One Alcidamas an ancient Rhetorician of the highest Rank, for eminency hath gone so far, as to pen an Encomium of Death, which consists in a rehearsal of the Miseries, which accompany man's Life. The Reasons, which are more accurately collected by Philosophers, he wanted; copiousness of Language, he wanted not. Now Deaths for their Country embraced with eminent Resolution, are wont to seem not only glorious to Rhetoricians, but also blessed. They go back as far as Erechtheus, whose very Daughters were zealous to die, to save the Lives of their Citizens; descend to Codrus, who charged up to the midst of his Enemies in the disguise of a Servant, lest, if he had worn his Royal Robes, he might have been discovered, because the Oracle had foretold, that Athens should bear away the Victory, if their King were slain. Nor is Menaeceus passed in silence, who, upon a like Prediction, sacrificed his Life for his Country. Iphigenia at Aulis, bid them lead her up to the Altar, that so the Enemy's Blood might be drained, by the Effusion of her own.  


(g) For Man, not to be born, is far the best; but next to that, to die speedily.] In consideration of the manifold Vanities, which man's Corruption hath brought upon the World, this Assertion hypothetically taken, carrieth truth in it; but simply delivered, is not agreeable to right Reason; therefore our Author judiciously separates from his sober enquiry after the means of well living; these Encomiums of Death and Invectives against Life, which favour of discontent, give indication of the Hypochondriacks, and tempt us to ingratitude against God and our Parents.   

(h) Deaths for their Country embraced with eminent Resolution, are wont to seem, not only glorious to Rhetoriciaus, but also blessed.] It was a custom among the Greeks, one day in the year, to make a solemn Commemoration-speech at the Tombs of those who had died Champions of the Liberty of Greece, as at Marathon, against Darius, and elsewhere. Here the Orators strained all the Power of their Eloquence, by extolling the Bravery of those Warriors, to incite their Auditors to gallant Resolution in like honourable Undertake. Tully so words this Sentence, as if the Rhetoricians affected Praise of their own Wit, in the Commendation of the others Valour; intimates also, that they carried it too far, when they went about to persuade, that there were happiness in losing Life upon such accounts; he had proved above, that as death should not be terrible, when the circumstance requires it, so neither is it amiable. It suffices to our reward, that we cheerfully submit to the necessity, though we make it not matter of choice.     

SECT. XLIX. The Close of all, applies that Substance of the present Debate to the Readers benefit.  
THEY come thence to latter times; Harmodius is in vogue, and Aristogiton the Lacedaemonian; Leonidas, Theban, Epaminondas flourish; with our Patriots they are not acquainted; and but to recount them, would be a hard task, there are so many, who we see, have made it their choice, to die in the Bed of Honor. Which things being so, yet must we use great Eloquence, and speak as with Authority, that men may be brought either to wish for death, or at least may forbear fearing it; for if that last day do not bring with it an utter Annihilation, but only change of abode, what were more desirable? but if it destroy, and abolish the whole, what is better, than in the midst of our labours here, to fall asleep, and so laid fast to take an eternal repose? If that fall out to be true, yet better is the saying of Ennius, than of Solon, for that our Countryman saith.  
None at my Funerals weep; nor hard Fates blame.  
But that wise man on the contrary,  
Let not my death want tears; may my Friends mourn,  
And with deep sighs, my Funerals adorn.  
But as for us, if any such thing should fall out, that a Message may seem to be sent us from God, to depart this Life, let us submit with joy, and be thankful, judging ourselves discharged from Prison, and our Shackles knocked off, that we may either return to dwell in our eternal and true home; or may be set free from all Sense and uneasiness; but if no such Message be sent us, yet let us be prepared to think that day, so dreadful to others, to be to us happy: and rank nothing amongst Evils, which is either by God appointed, or by Nature the common Mother. For we were not without Cause, or at all adventures born and bred; but in truth there was some Power which had an especial Providence over man, nor would beget or breed up such a Being, as after it had endured all the labours of this Life, should then fall into the eternal Evil of Death. Let us rather think it a Haven, to find provided for us, into which I could wish we might ride, with Sails top and top-gallant; but if we shall be beaten off through contrary Winds, yet not long after we must of necessity be driven back to the same place. Now, what is necessary for all, can that be miserable to any one? You have the Epilogue, lest you should think any thing hath been omitted, or left unfinished.  S. 
I have it indeed, and that Conclusion, hath in truth, more confirmed me.  M. 
Very well, say I, but at present let us have some regard to our Health; then to morrow, and as many days after as we shall abide in this Tusculan Place, let us mind these Matters, and especially such as bring relief to our Discontents, Fears and Lusts; which is the greatest advantage that can be made of all Philosophy.  


ay Better is the Saying of Ennius.] The loss of the Virtuous, finds in sorrow comfort; and yet he that lives undesired, dies unlamented; but Cicero must extol his Countryman above a wise man of Greece.   

(k) But as for us, if any such thing should fall out, that a message may seem to be sent us from God, to depart this Life.] This is a particular Application of the former discourse, to himself in that present juncture of Affairs, wherein he seems not to be free from all apprehension of violence from the displeasure of Caesar, and exasperated Spirits of some of the Caesarian Officers, and their Army of Veterans, spread all over Italy, and the places whither he was then retired.   

(l) Which is either by God appointed.] Death is not the Ordinance of a Creator, but Sentence of a Judge.   

(m) For we were not without cause, or at all adventures born and bred; but in truth there was some Power which had an especial Providence over man.] This is a masterly stroke, to set forth our primitive Institution. Man was ordained to some good end, no less than that of Virtue and Glory; which State being lost, as evidently it is, the same especial Providence watching over him, hath, by a new Covenant, in the hands of a Mediator, restored him to a lively hope, that after he hath endured the labours of this painful Life, he shall not then fall into the evil of eternal Death.      

Patience under Pain. The Proem, Sect. 1, 2, 3, 4.  
Book II.  

SECT. I. The benefit of Philosophy.  
NEoptolemus in Ennius, saith, he must act the Philosopher; but a little, for the part is no way pleasing. But I, my dear Brutus, judge that I must study Philosophy; for in what can I be better employed, especially being out of all employment? but not a little, as he saith, for it is hard, in Philosophy, to have a little known to him, that doth not know the most, or all; for neither can a little be chosen, but out of much; nor will he that hath understood a little, be satisfied, till he hath learned the rest. But in a life of employment, and such as was that of Neoptolemus at that time, Military, even that little doth often much good, and brings advantages, though not so great as might be reaped from the whole course of Philosophy, yet such as thereby we may in some measure be relieved against Lust, or Fear, or Discontent. As by that Disputation which I lately held in my House at Tusculum, there seemed to have been wrought a great contempt of Death, which is of no small influence to free the Soul from the fear of it. For he who is continually afraid of that which cannot be avoided, can by no means have any quiet of his Life; but he that doth not fear death, not only because he must of necessity die, but because death hath nothing dreadful in it, that man hath gained good interest towards the ensuring a happy Life. Although we are not ignorant, that many will earnestly contradict these things which we could no ways prevent, unless we would write nothing at all; for if our very Orations, which we desired should be approved to the judgement of the Multitude (for the Faculty is popular, and the Approbation of the Auditors, is the work that Eloquence hath to do) but if there were some men in the World, who would commend nothing, but what they were confident themselves could imitate, and made their own hope the Standard of their good words, and when they were born down with copiousness of words and sense, would say they had rather have Barrenness and Poverty, than Plenty and Riches; from whence a sort of Attic Speakers took their Rise, who knew not themselves what it was they pretended to follow; and who are now silenced, being almost laughed out of Court: what do we think would become of us, when we see we cannot now have the People any longer our abettor, as we had before; for Philosophy is contented to have but few judges; and studiously avoids the multitude, as being suspected by it, and hated of it. So that if a man would speak against Philosophy in general, he might have the People on his side; or if he would go about to attack this, which we chiefly profess to follow, he might have great assistance from the Doctrines of other Philosophers. Now as to the Traducers of Philosophy in general, we have answered them in our Hortensius.  


(n) But in a Life of Employment.] Skill in Logic, and knowledge of Natural and Moral Philosophy, do undoubtedly conduce to Prudence and Moderation, both in Discourse and Action. He that hath not shared in such Education, may, through preguancy of parts, and evenness of Temper, grow upon himself, and into the good liking of others; but there is this difference between knowledge obtained from personal Observation, and that which hath been received in Arts and Sciences, the former is an Estate raised by one man's labour; the latter a Patrimony transmitted to us, from that accumulated Industries of many Predecessors; let but the: same Observer inherit the Studies of former Ages, he will more admire God in his Works, understand the ground of Duties, and be more firm in all Truths. University Studies then are useful, but for men designed for business, short Schemes are necessary, such as may instruct Action, rather than feed Speculation.   

(o) A sort of Attic Speakers.] He reflects on the Sallustian stile, consisting not in Periods, but broken ends of Sentences; such as is found in the Declaimers.     

SECT. II. That the Academic Scheme is cautious and modest.  
THOSE things which are to be spoken in behalf of the Academy, we judge to have been accurately enough delivered in our four Academic Books; though we are so far from being unwilling to be writ against, that we desire nothing more; for Philosophy had never been in so great Reputation in Greece itself, had it not been brought into request by the Disputations and different Judgements of the greatest Scholars. Wherefore I exhort all, that are able to do it, that they would bear away this kind of praise also from Greece, that is now growing feeble, and that they would bring it into Rome, as our Ancestors have by their Study and Industry, brought over all other Arts, which were thought worth the fetching. And indeed the Praise of Orators among us hath been so advanced from a mean condition, till it is come to the highest pitch, that now according to the course of Nature, in almost all things, declineth and seemeth ready, within a very short time, to dwindle into nothing. Let the Birth of Philosophy in Latin, bear date from these times, and let us be helping to it; and be contented to be disproven and confuted, which they take impatiently, who are as it were pre-engaged, and have espoused certain Dictates of the Doctors of their respective Sects, and so lie under a necessity, to maintain them for Honour's sake, though they are often in their Consciences not convinced of their Truth. We who pursue after probabilities, and pretend not to advance farther, than to what carrieth with it the appearance of Truth, are ready both to disprove without confidence, and to be disproven without passion. Now if these Studies shall be translated to our Countrymen, we shall not so much as need Greek Libraries, in which there is an infinite number of Books, by reason of the multitude of Writers. For the same things are said over and over again by divers Persons, whereupon they have filled the World with Books. Which ill consequent will attend our People also, if the generality shall break in upon these Studies. But let us, if we can incite those, who to an ingenuous Education have added a Practice of polite Discourse, and do handle Philosophical Questions in an orderly way, with proper and conclusive Arguments.  


(p) In behalf of the Academy.] The Academy was the School of Plato, where he erected a Chair of the Socratic Discipline, and endowed it; which in sequel of time, through the Benefactions of divers Professors and Fellow-students in that Sect, arrived to a considerable revenue. The Doctrine wherein Tully professeth to follow them, is that of Probability, not to be positive in any question, nor loud in dispute, but easy of Conviction, and ingenuous in Confession of that which carrieth the greatest appearance of Truth.   

(q) Have espoused certain Dictates of the Doctors of their respective Sects.] As the Stoics and Epicureans, but especially the Pythagoreans. The being wedded to a Party, begets Contention.   

(r) In an orderly way.] Methodically.     

SECT. III. The Epicurean only regarded by its own followers.  
FOR there is a certain Set of such as assume to themselves the name of Philosophers, who are said to have Books enough in Latin, which I do not despise, for I have never read them; but because the Authors profess themselves, that they write neither with distinction of Terms, nor distribution of Parts, nor elegancy of Language, nor any Ornaments; I neglect to give that reading which is no ways delightful. For none that hath but indifferent Learning, can be ignorant what the Disciples of that School say, and what they mean. Wherefore since they make no regard how they speak, I cannot understand how they should be read by any but those of the same Judgement; for as all read Plato, and the rest of the Socratics, and those downwards which derived from them; all, I say, read them, even such as do not approve all in them, or are not most zealous Followers of him; but Epicurus and Metrodorus hardly any body, besides those of their own Sect, taketh them into his hands; so they only read these Latin ones, which think their Doctrines to be true. But our judgement is, that whatsoever is published, should bring with it that respect to the public, as to be commended to the reading of all Scholars; nor because we may be not so able ourselves as to perform it, are we therefore less of the mind, that so it ought to be done. Therefore I always liked that Custom of the Peripatetics and Academy, to argue upon all Subjects on both sides, not only because that which is likely in every matter, can no other ways be found out; but all because it is the best exercise of speaking well, which Aristotle first used, than they who came after him; but in our memory Philo, whom we have frequently heard, set up reading Oratory at one time, and Philosophy at another; to which Custom we being persuaded by some familiar Friends, spent in that business what time we had to stay in our House at Tusculum; therefore, when in the Morning we had been at Declamations, as we had done the day before; after Noon we came down into the Academy, and what Disputation was there held, we deliver not by way of report, but near word for word, as it was there managed, and controverted.  


(s) Because the Authors profess themselves that.] Epicurus and his Followers avowed a contempt of Logic and Rhetoric; his Writings are by way of Epistle, Sentences are continued Treatises; as the Socratic by Dialogue, and Aristotelick by Disputation.   

(t) Into the Academy.] Two Members of the Manor-house at Tusculum, were an Academy, or Cloister, and Garden below, in imitation of the School of Plato; and Lyceum, or Gallery above, after that of Aristotle.     

SECT. IV. The bad life of some Teachers, is only scandal to their Persons, not Doctrines.  
AS therefore we were walking, the Discourse fell in after this manner, and was introduced from such a beginning.  S. 
It is not to be expressed, how much I was pleased, or rather edified with your yesterday dispute; for although I am not conscious to myself, that I was ever overfond of Life, yet sometimes a secret apprehension and grief did over-cloud my Spirit, when I thought seriously on it, that the time would come, that this light would have an end, and that I must part with all the Comforts of Life. Now, believe it, I am so perfectly delivered from this sort of uneasiness, that I think it ought to be the least of my Cares.  M. 
No wonder at that, for this is the proper work of Philosophy, it healeth the Distempers of the mind, removeth vain Disquiets, sets free from impetuous Desires, banisheth Fears; but this its Virtue is not of equal Efficacy with all. Then doth it most exert its vigour, when it meets with a capable nature. For not only Fortune favours the Valiant, (as is in the old Proverb) but much more doth reason so too, which, as it were by certain Precepts, doth superadd Constancy to Valour. Nature hath made you, as it appears, an excellent Person, lofty, and overlooking the present World; therefore a Discourse had against death, made easily deep Impressions on a generous mind. But do you think the same Arguments would prevail with those very men, bating some few of them, by whom they have been invented, disputed, and compiled. For where is there one Philosopher of a thousand to be found, of such a Temper and Conversation, as Reason requires? who maketh use of his Doctrine not for Ostentation of Knowledge, but a Rule of Life? who believes himself, and observes his own Precepts? Some of them we may see of such Levity, and so proud Boasters, that they had better never have been bred up to Learning; others greedy after Money; some after Vainglory; others Slaves to their Lusts: in such manner as their Practice doth marvellously contradict their Profession, which seemeth to me highly shameful. For as if one that professeth himself a Grammarian, should speak false Latin; or he that would pass for a Master in Music, should sing out of Tune; he is so much the more scandalous, because he offends in that very thing, whereof he professeth the knowledge: So a Philosopher that is an ill liver, is so much the more scandalous, because he miscarries in the Trade whereof he would be Master; and having professed an Art of Life, is faulty in his Life.  

(u) It is not to be expressed.] The former three Sections were a Preface in the Person of the Author, this and the following are Introductory of the Debate, and between the Parties, show the Efficacy of good Instruction upon an attentive and honest Hearer. That all Teachers are not affected with their own Doctrine, the fault not to be found in Philosophy. Land must be manured, and as the Seed is good, so must the Ground be likewise good, that the Harvest be plentiful.    

SECT. V. The Position maketh Pain the greatest of all Evils.  S. 
IS it not therefore justly to be feared, if the Matter be so as you say, lest you put upon Philosophy the Glory that it deserveth not? for what greater Argument is there, that it is nothing available, than that some excellent Philosophers live scandalous Lives?  M. 
Nay, that is no Argument at all, tilled Grounds do not bear good Corn; and that is a Saying false, and contrary to common experience.  
Though Seed into a barren Soil be thrown,  
Yet of itself in Springs and thrives alone.  
So all minds cultivated, do not bring forth Fruit. And that I may keep to the same Simile; as a Field, though it be Fruitful, without Tillage cannot bring a good Crop, so the Soul without Learning. Thus either of both these Matters, without the other, is defective. Now the cultivating of the Soul is Philosophy, which Weeds out Vices by the Roots, and prepareth Souls to receive good Seed; then commits those things, and as it were, soweth them therein, which being come to full maturity, bring forth a most plentiful Harvest. Let us proceed therefore as we begun; tell me, what Subject would you have disputed upon?  S. 
I esteem Pain to be the greatest of all Evils.  M. 
What; greater than dishonour?  S. 
I dare not say so; and some shame it is to be so soon moved from my Opinion.  M. 
More shame was it for you, if you should have persevered in that opinion; for what is more unsuitable to that high Character, than for you to think any thing worse, than dishonour, scandal, baseness? to avoid which, what Pain would not only not be declined, but also be eagerly pursued, undergone, encountered?  S. 
I am clearly of that judgement; yet for all that, though Pain be not the greatest Evil, without doubt it is Evil?  M. 
Do you see then, upon a short Admonition, how much you have abated of the Terror of Pain?  S. 
I see it plainly, but would seign somewhat more.  M. 
Well, I will try what may be done; but it is a hard piece of business; and I must require of you, a disposition of mind, not resolved against Conviction.  S. 
That you shall be sure to have; for as I did yesterday, so now I will follow reason whithersoever she shall lead me.   

SECT. VI The different Maxims of Philosophers on that Subject.  M. 
FIRST therefore I shall speak of the weakness of many; and the Philosophers of different Persuasions. The Principal of whom, both for Authority and Antiquity, Aristippus the Scholar of Socrates, stuck not to say, in plain terms, That Pain was the greatest Evil. In the next place, Epicurus proved Scholar apt enough in this lash and unmanlike Lesson. After him Hierom of Rhodes said, That freedom from Pain was the chiefest happiness; so much Evil did he apprehend in Pain. The other Philosophers, besides Zeno, Aristo, Pyrrho, commonly maintain the same, as you lately asserted, That it is Evil; but there are other things worse. Therefore what nature itself, and an inbred Gallantry of Spirit doth instantly abhor, that you should call Pain the greatest Evil, and dishonour being matched with it, you should quit the mistake; in that Point, Philosophy the School-mistress of Life, is for so many Ages peremptory. What Duty, what Praise, what Honour can be so valuable, as that he should be content to purchase at the rate of bodily Pain, who hath taken up the Persuasion, That Pain is the greatest Evil? Again, what Ignominy, what Baseness will not any one submit to, that he may escape Pain, if he have determined that to be the greatest Evil? Nay, who is not miserable, not only at the time when he shall be under pressure of the greatest Pains, if in these consists the greatest Evil; but even then when he knows himself liable to be so? and who is not liable to be so? whereupon it follows, That no man can ever be happy. Metrodorus thinks him to be completely happy, who hath a sound Constitution of Body, and good grounds of assurance that it will always continue so; but who is there that can have any grounds of such assurance?  

(w) Besides Zeno, Aristo, Pyrrho.] Zeno held nothing Evil but Vice. Pain to be grievous, rough, uneligible, but not evil. Aristo of Ceos, that besides Virtue and Vice, all other things, and consequently Pain, were indifferent. Pyrrho that Sense of Ignorance was Good, Opinion of Knowledge Evil; other things neither to be desired, nor avoided.    

SECT. VII. Epicurus contradicts himself herein, the Tragical impatiences of Philoctetes.  
BUT Epicurus speaks after that rate, that he seems to me desirous to move Laughter; for in one place he affirms; If a wise man be burnt, if he be wracked; you look perhaps that he should say, He will be patient, he will endure; he will not sink under it. By Hercules! a great Commendation, and worthy that very Hercules by whom I swore. But this will not serve Epicurus a rough and hardy man: If he shall be in Phalaris brazen Bull, he will say, Oh! how sweet is this! How unconcerned am I at all this! Is it sweet too? Were it too little, if it be not better? But those very Persons who deny Pain to be Evil, are not wont to say, that it is sweet to any one to be put to Torture; they say that it is rough, hard, octious, contrary to Nature, and yet not Evil. He who saith this is the only Evil, and the utmost of all Evils, affirms, that a wise man would call it sweet. I do not require of you to speak of Pain in the same Language as Epicurus doth of Pleasure, who was himself, as you know, a great Voluptuary. Let him say the same, with all my heart, in the Brazen Bull, as if he were upon a Featherbed. I do not attribute to Wisdom, so much strength against Pain. If perhaps it be sufficient discharge of Duty, to bear it patiently, I do not further demand that she rejoice at it. For without doubt, it is a sad thing, bitter, repugnant to Nature, difficult to be endured with any Patience. Look on Philoctetes, who is to be pardoned his groaning, for he had seen Hercules on Oeta yelling through excess of Pains. The Arrows therefore which he had received from Hercules, did then nothing comfort him; when  
The Viper's Gall into his Marrow shed,  
Had through his Bowels gripping Tortures bred.  
Then he roars out seeking for aid, desiring to die.  
Ho! down that Peek who doth me throw,  
Into the bring Waves below?  
Now, now I faint; the belching wound,  
The burning sore my Soul confound.  
It seemeth a hard word, that he who is forced to roar out after this sort, should not be in evil Estate, and that very Evil too.  


(x) Epicurus a rough and hardy man.] Spoken by way of Derision; for he was soft and voluptuous.   

(y) Look on Philoctetes.] Hercules on Mount Oeta is said to have bequeathed his Bow and Arrows to Philoctetes; he one day heedlessly let fall an Arrow on his Foot, which gave him such intolerable anguish, that with his roaring he disturbed the Grecian Host, then on their March towards Troy. He may be looked upon as a fit Emblem of the Gout.   

(z) The Vipers Gall.] These and the following Verses are taken out of the Philoctetes of Attius, translated out of Sophocles. The Arrows of Hercules were strained with Poison, shed upon them by Hydra's, gnawing them, when he emptied his Quiver into her Body.   

(a) Ho! down that Peek.] Ulysses, to rid the Grecian Camp of the Outcries of Philoctetes, gets the Fleet to weigh Anchor, and leave him ashore in Lemnos, where he got on a Rock to look after them; and there took up his abode in a Grot, and lay on a Couch of Leaves.     

CHAP. VIII. Hercules.  
BUT look we upon Hercules himself, who was then carried forth into Impatience through Pain; when he was upon acquiring Immortality by his very death. What Expressions doth he utter in Sophocles, in his Play called Trachiniae? for when Deianira had made him put on the Shirt dipped in the Centaur 's Blood, and that had stuck to his Body, thus he saith,  
O many labours hard to be recounted,  
Which this spent Soul and Body have surmounted!  
Nor spiteful Juno's spleen implacable,  
Nor sad Eurysthens wrought me so much ill,  
As one perverse ill-natured Oeneus Seed,  
She hath ensnared me in a Hellish Weed;  
Which cleaving, rends the flesh away, which drains  
My tainted Liver, and exhausts my Veins;  
Wanzed to a Skeleton, I myself survive,  
Wound, in an anctious Cere-cloth, up alive.  
No proud Foes hand, nor Earthborn Giant's force;  
No Centaur dealt these blows, half Man, half Horse;  
No power of Greeks, no fierce Barbarian hands,  
No Savages banished to remotest Lands;  
Whither I roved, all harms to exterminate,  
But I to a Woman owe my ignoble Fate.  
Son, may thy Father all that Name engross,  
Nor to a Mother's fondness quit my loss.  
Go, hale her hither, with officious hands;  
Prove which you value, her, or my commands.  
On, start not, Son; o'er thy wracked Sire lament;  
Pity him, Nations shall our grief resent.  
Alack! that I should, like a Girl, make moan,  
Who none e'er saw, in anguish vent a groan,  
My manlike bravery thus unmanned and gone.  

(b) Dipped in the Centaur 's blood.] The Story of Nessus may be known from Ovid's Metamorphoses, Englished and illustrated by Sandys; the Jealousy of Deianira; the twelve Labourers of Hercules, and his being Deified after he had been burned on Oeta, whither the Reader is referred.    

SECT. IX.  
COME hither, Son, stand near, survey with tears,  
The fleshless Carcase thy torn Father wears;  
All men behold; and thou that rul'st the Sky,  
Quick bolt of Thunder at my head let fly.  
Now, now the grinding pangs my Bowels guide!  
Now spreads the Plague! O hands that once were feared!  
O Back! O Breast! O Arms with Muscles swelled!  
Was it your Gripe that Nemeas Lion held,  
Till hug'd he roared most hideously, then died?  
This hand the dreadful Leona pacified.  
This Centaur's Horse and Man in death did join,  
This quelled the Erymanthus rooting Swine;  
This carried off from dark Tartarean Cell,  
In his own Chain the foaming Dog of Hell.  
This slaying th'oft-twisted Dragon did unfold,  
Which watched the Tree that bore the Fruit of Gold,  
Many like prize hath been our Conquering spoil;  
Non man e'er yet could vaunt he did us foil.  
Nor can we now despise Pain, when we see Hercules himself so impatient under it?   

SECT. X. Prometheus.  
ENTER next Aeschylus, not only a Poet, but also Pythagorean; for so have we by Tradition. How doth Prometheus in him bear the Pain inflicted on him for the Lemnian Theft; whereby Fire that is now become culinary, was clandestinely dealt among Mortals.  
Which sly Prometheus, did they say,  
From Heaven to Earth cleanly convey,  
And for which bold attempt,  
He stands by Jove condemned,  
An amends honourable to pay.  
Paying therefore this amercement, as he hangs fastened to Mount Caucasus, he utters these words.  
Ye Raze of Titans, to us near allied,  
Born of high Heaven, behold your Kinsman tied  
To rough Rocks, as a Crew of Seamen binds  
Their Ship, for fear of night and boisterous Winds;  
Here hang in Chains, I by Jove's strict commands,  
To which obsequious Vulcan lent his hands:  
He, cruel Artist, did my quick limbs nail,  
With piercing Staples to this hellish Goal,  
When the third Execution day appears,  
Jove's Bird, my Breast, with crocked Talons tears;  
And my shorn entrails, with sharp Beak devours,  
So with fat Liver gorged, aloft she tours;  
Youks through wide Heaven aloud, then stoops again,  
And, as she foaks my warm blood, wags her Train.  
My Liver, when recruited, soon she spies,  
And keen upon the kill Quarry flies.  
Thus I my own tormenting Gaoler feed,  
And living still, with inward anguish bleed.  
Nor can I with Jove's Chains you see oppressed,  
Chase the Soul-gnawing Harpsie from my Breast.  
Thus damned to live, I only pray to die;  
But angry Jove doth this bold Prayer deny.  
Now many Ages Periods have gone round,  
Whilst on my Bosom I sustain this wound:  
Whence the Greese molten by the Sun distils,  
Upon the Stones of the Caucasean Hills.  

(c) The Lemnian Theft.] When Jupiter had in anger removed fire from men, Prometheus is said to have stolen it from Heaven; and for that Fact to have been by Jupiter condemned to be chained to Caucasus, and there exposed to the rendings of an Eagle. In Lemnos was said to be the Forge of Vuloan; and Prometheus is fabled to have distributed amongst men, the knowledge of Mechanical Arts, which as they concern, working in Metals, are performed by Fire. The Moral of the Eagle, is Remorse of Conscience.    

SECT. XI. Digressions against the Poets.  
IT is a hard matter therefore, for us not to pronounce a man in these Circumstances miserable; and if he be miserable, Pain must consequently be evil.  S. 
You do hitherto bring Arguments in my favour, but that I shall examine anon; in the mean time, where had you those Verses? for I remember not to have met with them before.  M. 
I will tell you truly, for it is a proper question; do you not see that I have little to do?  S. 
What of that?  M. 
You have been, I suppose, in the Philosopher's Schools, when you were at Athens.  S. 
I have so, and with great satisfaction.  M. 
You must needs then mark, though there were none at that time very fluent, yet that Verses were mixed with their Discourse.  S. 
Yes, and many too by Dionysius the Stoic.  M. 
You say right; but he would repeat them as a Schoolboy doth his Lesson, without any distinction of what was proper or elegant. Philo observed both the due number, and choice Pieces, and would apply them in their proper place. Therefore since I have taken to this sort of declaiming, as it were for my old Age, I am much conversant in our Poets; but if they be any where deficient, I translate many things myself out of Greek, that the Latin Tongue might not come behind in any sort of Ornaments in this kind of Disputations. But do you see what mischief Poets do? for they bring upon the Stage Persons of a brave Character lamenting, they soften our Spirits: then so luscious are they, as not only to be read by us, but also gotten by heart. Thus when over and above ill breeding at home, a sedentary and soft life, the Poets come in with their Charms also, they emasculate the Soul. Therefore Plato did well, to dismiss them out of the State which he modelled, when he enquired after the sound best Policy, and best ordered State of a Commonwealth. But we now, as fetching our Education from Greece, read and learn these things from our Childhood; we account this Gentile Breeding and Scholarship.  


(d) You do hitherto bring Arguments in my favour.] These Instances allowed by popular applause, he alleges against the Epicureans, who affirmed Pain to be sweet. These over-strain the Matter, a Notion abhorrent from Nature and the common Sense of Mankind. Therefore sufficiently run down by Stories, poetically amplified and approved by the Vulgar; however the case on the other side upon a just estimate be herein too far relaxed.   

(e) Where had you those Verses?] The Greek, he said before, were of Aeschylus, in his other Prometheus, not tha● which is extant; and the Latin ones are so properly expressed, as that he was loath posterity should be ignorant he was the Author of them. So true is that judgement I think of Quintilian, that Tully was a Poet comparable to the best of his Age; contrary to the vulgar Conception about him; grounded, I suppose, upon the censure of the Satirist, which yet should be restrained to that byword of his, noted as well for the Matters, being invidious as the clench ungrateful.   

(f) Philo observed both the due number, and choice pieces, and would apply them in their proper place.] The Artifice of Tully, (which he learned from Philo) is admirable, for here treating of a melancholy Subject, he cheers up the Reader with large Portions of Poetry, as if he were at an Interlude or Opera. Besides these fabulous or heroical Instances of Pain and Impatience, like magnified Objects, or Colossick Statues, present to the Fancy a clearer view of the Passion in all its parts, and raise admiration with delight.   

(g) What mischief Poets do.] Here is a grave Digression against the Poets, not giving true measures of Honor. Plato gave them leave to depart with good words, whom Cicero commends for it. Indeed what Conceptions of God did the Epicks deliver? what boisterous Humours do the Tragedians vent? the Lyrics are often incentives to Lust and Luxury, which they recommend with melody of Voice and Instruments. Poetry must conform to the Age upon which it depends, and pleaseth for its likeness. But Comedy still resembleth the most misguided part of Mankind. So that the wisest Philosophers have prescribed the Poets to be read with more than ordinary caution, and strong correctives of the ill qualities lurking in them.   

(h) But we, now, as fetching our Education from Greece.] It was modish with the Romans, at that time, to train up their Children early to Greek, and they begun at the Poets. Therefore Quintilian maketh reading the Poetry part of the Grammarians Province, whereas expounding Orations belonged to the Master of Rhetoric. Thus was Cicero first entered in his Studies, by Archias a Grecian and Poet. This was in Practice after the taking Greece, and acquaintance with the more polite literature of that Nation.     

SECT. XII. Against some Heterodox Philosophers.  
BUT why are we angry with Poets? there have been found Philosophers, Teachers of Virtue, who have affirmed Pain to be the greatest Evil. But you, young man, when you had but a little before declared that to be your thought, upon the question barely put by me, whether greater than Dishonour, at the very word fell off from your opinion. I put Epicurus the very same question, he will justify it, that a small Pain is greater Evil than the greatest Dishonour. Because in the Dishonour itself there is no Evil, unless Pains ensue upon it. Now what Pain doth ensue upon Epicurus, when he maketh such Assertion, more dishonourable than which, I cannot expect any thing from a Philosopher. So that you have secured me, when you replied, that you esteemed Dishonour a greater Evil than Pain; for do but keep to this, you will have a Rule how far we should strive against Pain; for it is not so much the Question, whether Pain be evil or not, as the business to fortify the mind against impatience under Pain. The Stoics bring little Arguments to prove it not to be evil, as though it were a Contest about words, and no real concern. Zeno, why do you impose upon me? for when the thing that seems terrible to me, you affirm to have no ill in it at all; I am caught, and desire to know how that which I judge most miserable, should not be so much as evil: Nothing, saith he, is evil, but what is base and vicious. Nay, now you trifle again; I know that Pain is no lewdness. Forbear teaching me that, teach me this, that it is indifferent, whether I am in Pain or not in Pain. There is no difference at all, saith he, in order to happiness, which is placed in Virtue alone; but yet it is to be refused. Why so? It is rough, unnatural, hard to be endured, bitter, grievous.  

ay The Stoics bring little Arguments to prove it not to be evil.] Cicero having confuted the Epicureans, who, contrary to their own Principles, in a Bravado gave out, that they counted Pain pleasant, or at the worst but indifferent; now attacks the Stoics, who thought it indeed offensive, but not evil, because not morally evil: this Restriction of the term he doth not allow, because in common acceptation it is of larger import. Then satisfieth them with assigning a different definition of the term, Evil, according to the received Sense. Yet withal, he allows it comparatively to bear no proportion with dishonesty; so that forfeiture of Honour and Conscience in the least, is infinitely worse than suffering the greatest Pain. Then dismisseth the Cause, as a mere Controversy about words. Here he bears the Person of a moderate Peripatetic.    

SECT. XIII. Pain must not betray us to indecent Carriage.  
THIS is command of Language, to be able to express in such variety of Terms, that which we commonly call in one word Evil. You define, but remove not my Pain, when you say it is rough, preternatural, and almost intolerable; nor do you speak any untruth; but you that boast in words, should not shrink in the trial; since nothing is good but what is honourable; nothing evil, but what base. This is rather to wish what we would have; then to inform what is. The better and truer Decision were, that whatsoever Nature abhorreth, is to be reckoned among things evil; what it covets among the good. This being laid down for a Maxim, and all Contention about words, removed nevertheless, so much will that excel which they rightly embrace, which we call honourable, honest, and comely, which we sometimes comprise under the general name of Virtue, that all other the reputed Goods of the Body and Fortune appear but little and inconsiderable. Nor can any one Evil, no nor if all were brought together into one place, be comparable with the Evil of dishonesty. Wherefore if, what you granted in the beginning, Dishonour be worse than Pain, Pain is of no force at all; for whilst you shall think it mean and unmanly to sigh, howl, lament, to be dejected, melancholy, impatient; then will Dignity, than Honour, than Decency present themselves before you; and you look steadfastly on them and restrain yourself: Pain truly will give way to Virtue, and be enfeebled by the assuming Courage: For either there is no Virtue, or all Pain is to be slighted. Would you have it that there is any Prudence, without which no Virtue can be so much as understood? Now what think you of her? will she suffer you to do any thing, so as to take Pains to no purpose? Will Temperance permit you to be immoderate in any thing? Can Justice be observed by him, who for grievousness of Pain, reveals Secrets, bewrays Complices, and abandons many Duties? What for Fortitude? how will you answer her and her Attendants, Bravery of Spirit, Gravity, Patience, Contempt of the World? While you afflict yourself, are heartless, and make a piteous moan, shall you hear, O stout man! while you demean yourself after such manner, none will call you so much as man. Valour therefore must be parted with, or Grief buried.  


(k) If, what you granted in the beginning, Dishonour be worse than Pain.] Tully hath certainly gained the Point, by the short and ready answer of the ingenuous Youth, according to the common Notion that Mankind undebauched, hath of true Honour, the end to which we were ordained, and measure of our Actions.   

(l) Bewrays Complices.] Where King-killing is accounted an Heroical Virtue, there must concealing of Accomplices pass for on Act of Perfection. This looks suspiciously upon the Conspiracy of Brutus; though it may have regard to that of Zeno Eleates afterwards mentioned, which former might influence the latter.     

SECT. XIV. — must be opposed with Courage.  
KNOW you therefore, that if you lose a Silver Cup, the rest of your Plate may be safe; but if you lose one Virtue, (although Virtue cannot be lost; but if you confess there is one Virtue that you have not) it will follow that you have none? Can you therefore say, that he is a Valiant man, or of a gallant Spirit, or Grave, or Patient, or that he despiseth the World, either that Philoctetes— (for I had rather learn from you; but he to be sure is not valiant) who lieth in a damp Grot on bed of Leaves;  
Who yelling, roaring, bellowing, with deep Groans,  
Maketh the touched Rocks reverberate his sad moans.  
I do not deny Pain to be Pain, for what need else were there of Fortitude? but I say it may be suppressed by Patience, if there be any such Virtue as Patience; if there be none, why do we magnify Philosophy? or why do we value ourselves in being denominated from her? Pain doth prick: why? let it goad you. If you be defenceless, offer your Throat; but, if you be fenced with Armour of Vulcan's making, that is, with Fortitude, make resistance. For unless you do so, this Guardian of your Dignity will abandon you utterly. The Cretan Laws, which either Jupiter himself made, or Minos, agreeable to Jove's will, as the Poets deliver, and those also of Lycurgus, incur their Youth to labours, to Hunting, Racing, Hunger and Thirst, Freezing, Sweltering; the Children at Sparta are so disciplined at the Altar, that much blood gushes out of their Bodies; sometimes also, as I heard, when I was there till they fell down dead? None of these ever cried out, or so much as fetched a Groan. What then? shall not Men be able to bear what Children have been able to bear; what Custom can effect, shall not Reason effect the same?  


(m) Virtue cannot be lost.] Perseverance in Virtue, was by the genuine Stoics asserted to the wise man, as an essential Property to his Happiness. Cleanthes held, that Virtue cannot be lost, if it be true.   

(n) If you confess there is one Virtue that you have not, it will follow that you have none.] Another Property of Virtue, that it is uniform. The inward Man hath an entireness of Parts.   

(o) If you be fenced with Armour of Vulcan 's making.] A third Property of true Virtue, known by the Author, not of Humane Forge; it is an whole Armour of Gods making. He alludes to the Panoply or Suit of Armour in Homer, related to have been made for Achilles by Vulcan.   

(p) Make resistance.] The first direction to Patience, is an early habit of Courage.   

(q) Or Minos agreeable to Jove 's will.] Minos' the Lawgiver of the Cretans, is said for nine years to have held Correspondence with Jupiter. The first Example that Pain is superable, and both Soul and Body are hardened by Patience.   

(r) And those also of Lycurgus.] Lycurgus' living about the middle time, between the destruction of Troy, and building of Rome, traveled into Crect, than Egypt, afterwards consulted the Delphic Oracle, so gave Laws to his Country, wherein he tramed up Youth to all hardship, Active and Passive Valour, Archery, with other bodily Exercise. A further Example of the Power of being bred to Hardship, in disposing to Courage.   

(s) Children at Sparta are so disciplined at the Altar.] On a certain day of the year, Children were scourged at the Temple of Diana Orthia, whose Image was conveyed away from the Taurick Chers●nese, by Orestes and Iphigenia, and there placed. In this Exercise, he who held out longest was called Victor at the Altar, and some were beaten even to death. Thus did that Idol still delight in humane blood; what Cicero saith he heard when he was at Sparta, of some Boys there whipped to death, that Plutarch, an Age after, confirms that he had seen; so much is the World engaged to that Religion, which hath freed it from those inhuman Superstitions.     

SECT. XV. Inuring to labour, disposeth the Mind to a patient enduring of Pain.  
THERE is some difference between Labour and Pain; they border indeed, but yet somewhat differ. Labour is an employment of Body or Mind, in the discharge of some toilsome Work or Office. But Pain is a rough motion in the Body, ungrateful to the Senses. The Greeks, whose Language is more copious than ours, call both by one Name. For industrious men, they call Pains-takingmen; we more properly Laborious; for it is one thing to labour, another thing to be pained. Greece sometimes at a loss for words, though thou thinkest thyself always to abound in them. It is one thing, I say, to be in Pain, another to take Pains. C. Marius was in Pain, when his swellings in the Veins of his Feet were cut. He took Pains when he marched in sweltry weather; yet there is also some likeness between them, for the being accustomed to labour, renders the enduring of Pain less difficult. Upon this ground they who made the Platforms of Commonwealths in Greece, provided, that the Bodies of young men should be hardened by Labour. These the Spartans' extended to Women also, which in other States are treated with all tenderness, and kept within doors to save their Beauties. Now after the Ordinance of their Lawgiver.  
The Spartan Lasses, such nice Breeding slight,  
Who in Sun, Dust, and Toil, take more delight  
To Run, Swim the Eurotas, Foes o'ercome,  
Than in Barbarians Pride, a fruitful Womb.  
Therefore with these laborious Exercises, Pain doth also sometimes intermingle. They are thrust, smitten, flung, and they fall. So that the very labour doth bring a callous insensibility over the Pain.  


(t) The being accustomed to labour, renders the enduring of Pain less difficult.] A second direction for the acquiring Patience under Pain, is an early habit of Pains taking.   

(u) This the Spartans' extended to Women also.] Lycurgus' ordained that Boys and Girls should promiscuously wrestle in their Courts for Exercise. Plato in his Politics much inclinable to the Spartans', allows the same upon Supposition, that the Virtues both of Men and Women are the same; which notwithstanding the Offices of both Sexes are different, and so should be their Education.     

SECT. XVI. The Power of Exercise.  
NOw for Soldiery, I mean our own, not that of the Spartans', whose March is in Tune, to the sound of the Pipe, and who use no incentive to Engagement, without Anapaests. Our trained-bands it is manifest, first, whence they receive their Denomination; then, what labour do they undergo? how great in their March? to carry more than a Fortnight's Provision; to carry their necessary Baggage; to carry Palisado's: for Buckler, Sword, Helmet, our men count no more a burden, than Breast, Arms and Hands. For they say, that the pieces of Armour are a Soldier's Limbs, which are all carried so tightly, that if occasion offers, they can fling away their Baggage, and stand to their Arms, as though they were ready with their bare Limbs to make opposition. What means the training of Legions? what means the running, the shouting at the onset? how laborious is it? from hence cometh that Spirit in Battles, prepared to receive Wounds. Bring me a Soldier of like Courage, that hath not been exercised; he will seem a Woman. Such difference is there between a fresh and veteran Army; as we have found by experience, the Age of new-listed Soldiers is ordinarily better; but, to endure labour, despise Wounds, custom teacheth. Nay, we often see men carried out of the Battle wounded; and then this raw and unpractised Soldier, at never so slight a Wound, to make most lamentable outcries; but the experienced and old-beaten one, and for that reason more Valiant, looking for a Chirurgeon to dress him, saith,  
Patroclus, I here your helping hands require,  
Lest, I through Wounds, by insulting Foes expire;  
Nor can my bleeding any ways be stayed,  
Unless by your better skill, death be delayed.  
For numerous maimed, all Surgeon's hands forest all;  
Nor is there room in any Hospital.  


(w) Now for Soldiery.] A third direction to the acquiring Patience, is Exercise; this is exemplified in Soldiers.   

(x) Without Anapaests.] As Taratant, taratant, taratantara.     

SECT. XVII.  
THIS must be Eurypylus, an old beaten Soldier, when he continueth so long under Pain, see how far he is from giving a mean spirited pitiful answer, that he allegeth a Reason, why he should bear it patiently.  
Who another doth a mortal blow intent,  
Must know, like hand lift up, him to offend.  
Patroclus' will, I trow, carry him in, and rest him on a palate, that he may dress his Wound, if he had any Humanity. But I see no such matter, for he is ask news of the Fight.  
P. Tell me, how do the Greeks the Field maintain?  
The Day goeth harder than words can explain.  
P. — Cease then, and dress your Wound.  
Though Eurypylus should have been able, yet Aesopus could not.  When by Hector 's Fortune our fierce Battle forced; 
And what follows he relateth, being all the while in Pain.  
So ungovernable is Military Glory in a man of Honour. Shall therefore an old Soldier be able to do this, and shall not a Scholar and Wise man be able so to do? Nay this may better, and that not a little. But hitherto I speak but of the Custom of Exercise, I am not yet come to Reason and Wisdom. Weak old Women oftentimes go without eating two or three days together; do but withhold Meat one day from a Wrestler, he will cry out upon Olympian Jupiter; the same to whose Honour he shall exercise himself. He will cry he cannot bear it; Great is the Power of Custom: Hunters keep all night abroad in Frost and Snow; endure the being starved on the top of bleak Mountains: from the same Custom is it, that those who Cuff with Whorlebats, though battered black and blue, never fetched a groan. But why do I mention these Masters of Exercise, who esteemed a Prize won at the Olympian Games, as honourable as was the Roman Consulship of old? Fencers, men either Bankrupts, or Barbarians, what gashes do they put up? how do they that are taught true Play, choose rather to receive a slash, than unhandsomely to decline it? how often is it apparent, that they desire nothing more, than to content either their Patron, or the People; when they are even flashed all over, they send to their Lords to inquire their Pleasures, whether they have given them content, that they were willing to fight it out to the last. What Fencer of any Courage, groaned in the Combat? who ever changed his colour? who, not only stood, but even fell indecently? who, after he had laid himself down, when he was bidden to lie fair for his deaths-wound, shrunk his Neck in? Such Power hath Exercise, Training, Custom. Shall therefore this Ability be attainable by  A Bully Slave, fit to be hacked and hewed. 
And shall a man, born to Glory, have any part of his Soul so nesh, as that he cannot confirm it with Exercising, and with Reason? The looking upon Fencers playing a Prize, is wont to be accounted by some, Cruel and Inhuman, and I know not but it may be so, as it is now used. But when Malefactors sought it out at the Sword's point, perhaps the Ear might find many braver Lectures, but the Eyes could never receive any Instruction more sortifying against Pain and Death.  


(y) This must be Eurypylus.] Eurypylus the Son of Euaemon, a Commander of the Greeks, was shot by Alexander (that is Paris) into the Thigh, so that the Arrow broke in the Wound; he comes limping out of the Battle, and meets Parocles, between whom this Discourse is made to pass; the ground of it is taken from the eleventh Iliad of Homer.   

(z) Weak old Women.] Farther Instances of the Power of Exercise; also in Hunters, Cuffers with Whorlebats, Fencers.   

(a) The looking upon Fencers playing a Prize, is wont to be accounted, by some, Cruel and Inhuman.] To take pleasure in Bear and Bull-baiting, in cockfighting, in setting Dogs one upon another, are no Indications of a moderate and gentle Temper. However it may gratify the irascible part wherein we nearest approach to the wildbeast; but to purchase the pleasure of showing or seeing men slash and mangle men, is little better than a Subornation of Murder. The Art of Defence is noble, but not in a procured Assault, nor in turning it on the Offensive. The old Romans were so transported with foundness for this Recreation, as they judged it, that they built stately Amphitheatres in divers parts of the Empire, to accommodate the Spectators; they exhibited many Matches of Fencers at their entrance upon Offices, at Funerals, and at extraordinary Shows. This daily Carnage pampered the Humour of that Martial People, but the Practice was condemned by the sober Heathen, forbid by the Church to her Followers, reproved by the Fathers, and at last condemned by the Christian Emperors.     

SECT. XVIII. — of Reason.  
I Have spoken to Exercise, Custom, and Practice; come now let us consider as to Reason, unless you have any thing to offer against what hath been delivered.  S. 
Do you think I would interrupt you? I would not have had you made this doubt, your Speech doth so powerfully induce me to believe.  M. 
Whether therefore Pain be evil or not, let the Stoics look to that; who by certain captious and nice Arguments, such as no ways reach home to the Senses, would seem to demonstrate that Pain, is not evil. Be it what it will for Quality, I think it is not for quantity so great as it seems to be; and I do affirm, that men are more vehemently struck with the false appearance and conception of it, than they reasonably aught to be; and that its whole smart is tolerable. Where then should I take the beginning? should I touch briefly upon the Matters which I have already spoken, that so my Discourse may proceed more intelligibly. This therefore is agreed upon among all, not only the learned but unlearned too, that it is the part of men Valiant, and Gallant, and Patient, and conquering the World, to bear Pain patiently. Nor was there ever any who did not esteem him who did thus bear it, worthy of Praise. What therefore is both required of the Valiant; and commended in them when it is performed; either to fear that when it is coming, or to faint under it when it is come; how can that otherwise chose, than be base and dishonourable? Now consider, when all right Dispositions of the mind be called Virtues, whether that be not a name improperly appliable to all: but whether all be not named from that one disposition which excels the rest: For manliness is called from man; but fortitude is the most manly Virtue, whose two principal Offices are a contempt of Death and Pain: let us therefore put these in Practice, if we would be virtuous or rather Men; for Manliness, which denominateth the other Virtues, hath borrowed its name from man.  

(b) That its whole smart is tolerable.] He induces to Patience, because Pain is not so grievous as is conceited; it is the object of Fortitude, and matter of Praise.    

SECT. XIX. The direction of Epicurus impracticable.  
YOU will inquire perhaps, but how should we come to despise Pain; and a good question it is, for Philosophy pretends to prescribe Remedies in such case. Here cometh Epicurus, he no cunning Fellow, but rather very honest man, advised to the best of his Skill; slight Pain, saith he. Now who is it that saith this? Why he that affirms Pain to be the greatest Evil: not very consistently: let us hear on. If Pain be at the highest, saith he, it must needs be short. Say me those words over again, for I do not understand what you mean by the highest, nor what by being short. The highest, than which nothing is higher; short, than which nothing is shorter. I despise the greatness of that Pain, from which the shortness of time will release me almost as soon as it shall come; but if the Pain be so great as was that of Philoctetes, it seems to me considerably great, but yet not at the highest; for nothing acheth but the Feet; the Head, the Sides, the Lungs might, all the Parts might. Therefore it is far from the highest Pain: Therefore, saith he, long Pain hath more pleasure in it than trouble. Now cannot I say, that a man of his Reputation is without common Sense, but I think we are mocked by him: The Pain which is at the highest (and I suppose it at the highest, although there may be one ten Atoms greater) I do not presently affirm it must be short, and can instance in many sufficient men, that for very many years have been tormented with the Gout; but this wary Person never defieth either the greatness of the Pain, or shortness of Time; so that I may come to know what he means by the highest in Pain, what short in Time. Let us therefore leave him, saying nothing to any purpose, and let us oblige him to confess, that the remedy against Pain, is not to be expected from him, who shall hold Pain to be the greatest of Evils. Let the same Person in his Colic, Stone, and Strangury, set never so good a Face on the matter. Elsewhere therefore must Cure be sought, and especially if we inquire what is most suitable, of those who judge that which is honourable, to be the chiefest good; what is base, the chiefest evil. In their presence you will not dare to keep a groaning, and make a disturbance; for in their Language, Valour itself will thus address to you.   

SECT. XX. Virtue exhorting personated.  
WILL you, when you see Children at Lacedaemon, young men at Olympia, Barbarians in the Amphitheatre receive the severest Strokes, and put them up quietly, will you, I say, upon the least all, cry out like a Woman? Will you not bear it with Constancy and Calmness? It is intolerable, Nature cannot brook it; these are words; Children endure it for love of Glory, others endure it for shame, many out of fear, and yet do we apprehend, that Nature cannot stand under that which is endured by so many, and in so many places? Now she is so far from not abiding it, that she even requireth it: For she hath nothing more excellent, nothing she more desireth than Honour, than Praise, than Dignity, than Decency of Demeanour. By these several Names I mean one and the same thing; but I use different Expressions, that I may make it out with the greatest plainness. Now my meaning is, that, to be far the choicest good for man, which is to be chosen for its own sake, as proceeding from Virtue, or placed in it, and is in its own Nature praiseworthy; which I would sooner call his only, than not his chief good. And as this hath been said of Honour, so must the contrary of Baseness: Nothing goeth so much to the Heart, nothing carrieth that Antipathy with it, nothing is so unsuitable to man's Dignity; which, if you be thoroughly persuaded of, for at first you yielded it to be your judgement, that there was more evil in Dishonour than in Pain; it remains that you govern yourself; although this be a pretty odd Expression, as if the same Man consisted of two; The one the Governor, and the other the Governed; yet it is handsomely enough said.   

SECT. XXI. The manner of subduing our Affections to Reason.  
FOR the Soul is distributed into two parts, whereof the one partaketh of Reason, the other is Irrational: when therefore it is enjoined, that we should govern ourselves, the Sense of the Injunction is, that our Reason should restrain our Passion. There is in the Souls of all men, in a manner, naturally somewhat lasche, mean, low-spirited, in a sort emasculate and feeble; were there nothing else, man would be the most deformed thing in the World; but Reason the Lady and Empress of all things, is at hand to help; which bearing up on her own strength, and advancing farther, becometh, at length, accomplished Virtue. The man, therefore, must take care that this may rule that part of the Soul which ought to obey. How should it do that, say you? why, as a Lord his Slave, as a General his Soldier, as a Parent his Child. If that soft and tender part of the Soul, which I called Lasche, shall give itself over to effeminate Lamentations and Tears; let it be bound and secured by the guards of Friends and Allies. For we often see Persons awed by Shame, who could not be wrought upon by any Reason. These, therefore, like Slaves, let us bind in Chains, and keep under guard; but those who have some steadiness, but yet are not of the stoutest, these we should call back with like Admonitions, as good Soldiers are rallied to make head and maintain their ground. That wisest man of Greece, in the Play called Niperiae, maketh no great Lamentation, or rather but a very moderate one, when he saith;  
Tread gently, make even steps with ease,  
Lest by the choque, my Pain increase.  
Pacuvius hath done this better than Sophocles, for in this latter, Ulysses is brought in making piteous moan over his wound; and yet here, though he do but let fall a groan, those very men who carry him off wounded, regarding the Gravity of the Person, stuck not to say;  
Ulysses, though we you behold  
Sore-wounded, yet let us be bold,  
You too, almost, faint-hearted are,  
Of an old beaten Soldier.  
The judicious Poet perceives, that acquaintance with trouble, is no mean School-mistress of Patience. Yet Ulysses, in great Pain, cries out, not outrageously.  
Hold, stifle, stay me; my wound probe;  
'Tis festered; Oh! for Pain I sob.  
Then is ready to saint away; but soon recovering, quiets himself.  
Wrap me warm; presently be gone;  
Void all the Room; leave me alone;  
For to handle thus, and jog my Sore,  
Doth only fret and tease it more.  
See you how still he is grown, not upon abatement of his Body's Pain; but repressing the Vexation of his mind? Therefore towards the latter end of the same Play he chideth others, and that being ready to die.  
In grief we may complain, but must not vex;  
That manly is; this like the feebler Sex.  
The softer part of his Soul was so ranged under the Obedience of Reason, as a discreet Soldier under a strict General.   

SECT. XXII. Armour against Impatience.  
THE man in whom perfection of Wisdom shall be (for yet we see none such, but what he will be, if ever he be, is plainly described in his Character made by the Philosophers) He, I say, or that Reason, which shall be perfect and absolute in him, will so keep in subjection the inferior part, as a loving Father his dutiful Children; he will, with a beck, obtain what he pleaseth; without any Pains, any Trouble. He will rouse, excite, furnish, arm himself, that he may so resist Pain as an Enemy; what now is that Armour, Stoutness, Resolution, and an inward Check upon himself, as he thus reflects; take heed of doing any thing dishonourable, low-spirited, unmanly. Let noble Precedents be still presented to the mind. Zeno the Eleate would be laid before us, who suffered any thing rather than to discover his Accomplices, in abolishing the Tyranny over his Country. Let Anaxarchus of the School of Democritus be thought upon, who falling into the hands of Nicocreon King of Cyprus, neither petitioned him, nor declined any sort of torment. Kalanus the Indian, no Scholar, but a rude Barbarian, born at the foot of Caucasus, was voluntarily burned alive. We, if but a Foot or Tooth do but Ache, (but, suppose Aches over the whole Body) cannot endure it: For we have a certain effeminate and loose Opinion; nor that in Pain only, but all one in Pleasure; with which, when we are dissolved, and swim in ease, we cannot endure to be stung by a Bee, without setting up an outcry. But now C. Marius, a Rustic man, but in truth a man, when he was cut, as I mentioned before, at first forbid his being bound. Nor is it reported of any one, before Marius, that he was loose whilst he was cut. How, then, came others, afterwards, to do the like? The Authority of the Pattern swayed with them. Do you perceive, therefore, that the evil ariseth from our conceit, not the Nature of the Thing? And yet, that the Pain was very pungent, the same Marius showed; for he would not hold forth his other Leg: So he both approved himself to have the stoutness of a man, in enduring Pain; and again, the tenderness of man, in that he would not abide more, without necessary cause. This, therefore, is all in all, to command ourselves. And what sort of commanding this is, I have showed. Now this Consideration, what is beseeming our Patience, our Courage, our Gallantry of mind, not only restrains our Spirits; but after a secret unaccountable manner, doth alleviate the very Pain itself.  


(c) For yet we see none such.] Here is an ingenuous acknowledgement of our Imperfection in Morals: Some glimpse of perfection the Stoics had, and therefore give us the Wise man in Idea. This bears Testimony to some Primitive Excellency of Humane Nature; as the former to the loss of it; but towards the recovery hereof, the Philosophers maintained it to be wholly in our own Power; the Will to be still free, and sufficient to reduce the Affections under the Sceptre of Reason. Hence some of them pretended to dispassionateness, that is, Impeccability, that is, Perfection; and doubtless, many of them were great Proficients, in curbing their impetuous Appetites, but being ignorant of the Divine Law, in its extent, could not discover how far they came short of those Degrees, of Love to God and Man, which Natural Integrity dictates. This knowledge more aggravates the Spiritual Pride of those, whether Familists, or Quakers, or Perfectionists, of whatever denomination, who from early Ages have given the Christian Church no small trouble, with their bold and unjustifiable Pretences.   

(d) Zeno the Eleate.] He was of Vella in Lucania, an Auditor of Parmenides; when Nearchus had invaded the Kingdom of Lucania, Zeno was apprehended for a Conspiracy against him, and being wracked to confess his Fellows, he nominated all the Tyrant's best Friends; but being further pressed, bit his own Tongue off, and spit it in the Tyrant's face.   

(e) Anaxarchus of the School of Democritus.] He was of Abdera also, his Country called Eudaemonick from his sweet temper. On a time, being at the Table of Alexander the Great, and by him asked, How he liked the Feast, replied, completely well, only it lacked one Dish with a Vice-Roys Head, meaning Nicocreon the Cyprian. He was afterwards, by cross Winds, driven into Cyprus, and there, at the command of the King, bruised in a Mortar, with Iron Pestles; where he called out to him, Pound on, Pound the Hull of Anaxarchus, for Anaxarchus himself thou dost not Pound.   

(f) Kalanus the Indian.] He being Aged 73. followed Onesicritus to the Camp of Alexander the Great; but sickening at Passagarda, built himself a Pile, and went alive into it. Alexander ask him, what Will he should execute for him? His answer was, I shall see you shortly; which fell out accordingly, for a few days after he died at Babylon.     

SECT. XXIII. Faintness of Spirit dishonourable.  
FOR as it falls out in Battle, that the Coward and timorous Soldier, as soon as he sees the Face of an Enemy, flingeth away his Shield, and sets on running as fast as ever he can; and for that very reason, sometimes is lost before he had received any wound; when no such thing befalls him who keeps his ground. So they who cannot abide the appearance of Pain, cast away themselves, and so grown heartless, sink under Affliction; whereas they who have resisted it, most commonly come off with Victory. Now there are certain resemblances of the Soul with the Body. As Burdens are more easily borne, whilst Bodies bear upright, if these give way, they overwhelm them: Just in like manner, the Soul, by putting forth its utmost Efforts, doth bear off all the pressure of those grievances which burden it; but, upon shrinking, is so followed, that it can never raise itself up. And to speak the truth, an intention of the whole mind, is to be used in the Prosecution of all Offices of Life, for it is the sole guard of Duty. But, in Pain chiefly, we must watch that we do nothing despondingly, nothing after a Cowardly, Slavish, effeminate manner; and especially that the yelling out, like that of Philoctetes above, be disapproved, and utterly rejected. Sometimes it may be allowable for a man to sigh, and that but seldom; roaring out is not so, no not to a Woman. And this, indeed, is that lamentation which the twelve Tables prohibited the use o in Funerals. Nor will a valiant and wise man, ever so much as let a groan escape, unless it be in straining to put forth greater strength. As Runners for a Prize. shout as loud as ever they can in the Race: So do Wrestlers, whilst they are in the Exercise; but Cuffers, even then when they give their Adversary a Blow, as they fetch their Whorlebats round, let go a sigh; not that they are grieved, or out of heart, but because the stress of their whole Body vents itself in an audible voice, and the Blow is set on with greater vehemency.   

SECT. XXIV. Resolution necessary in War.  
WHAT? they that would speak louder than ordinary, are they contented to strain their Sides, Throat and Tongue, out of which Organs, we see the voice raised and poured plentifully forth? They force their whole Body, and as it were, stand on Tiptoes (as the Proverb is) to promote the earnestness of their utterance. I speak no untruth, I saw Mark Antony, when he made his earnest defence, being impeached upon the Varian Law, touch the very ground with his Knee. For as Crossbows, wrought up with Capstones, shoot forth their Stones, and other Engines their respective Darts, with so much the more violence, as they are strained and skrew'd higher, so the Voice, so the Running, so the Blow falls heavier, with the greater Spring it is set on. Now, since there is so great force of this straining, if a groan in Pain shall any way conduce to force the Soul, we shall do well to vent it; but if that sigh shall be lamenting, if feeble, if base, if whining, he that should render himself to such low Passion, I should hardly allow for a man. Which sighing too, if it did Administer any real relief, yet it were, for all that, to be considered, what were the part of a gallant and courageous man; but since it abateth nothing of Pain, why do we choose to disgrace ourselves to no purpose? For what is more discreditable to any man, than crying like a Woman. Now this Rule, which is given about Pain, is of larger extent, for we must resist all Occurrences; not only Pain, with the like intention of Spirit. Passion bursts forth; Lust disturbeth. We must fly for refuge into the same Fortress; must stand to the same Arms; but because our present Discourse is of Pain, let us wave these Particulars. It is therefore of main advantage towards the patient and calm enduring of Pain, to consider with our whole heart, as goes the word, how honourable it is. For we are naturally, as I said before, (and oftener it must be said) most eager and zealous upon Honour; if we see any twinkling of that, though but through a Crevice, there is nothing which we are not ready to bear, and go thorough with, that we may obtain it. It is from this race and eagerness of our Souls, after true praise and Honour, that those dangers in Battle are undertaken. Men of Valour feel not their wounds in the Field; or feel them they do, but choose rather to die, than to part with the least punctilio of their Honour. The Decii beheld the glittering Swords of their Enemies, when they charged upon their main Body; but the nobleness of their death, and the glory of their Names, rendered easy to them, all the apprehension of wounds. Can you imagine that Epaminondas then gave a groan, when he found his Life run out together with his Blood? Since he left his Country in command over the Lacedæmonians, which he had found in subjection to them. These are the Comforts, these the Lenitives of the greatest Pains.  


(g) I saw Mark Antony, when he made his earnest defence, being impeached upon the Varian Law, touch the very ground with his Knee.] At the time of the Social War, when Tully was about sixteen years of Age, Qu. Varius Tribune of the Commons, brought in a Bill, that Inquisition should be made, who had been Abettors of the Allies, Incendiaries of that War; this past, and was called the Varian Law. In it was a Title about Incest, upon that head was Mark Antony indicted, before Cassius' Praetor, whose Bar, for his great severity, was called the Rock of Defendants; but Mark Antony, an Orator vehement both in Words and Gesture, being conscious of his own Innocency, made his defence, and was acquitted. Some say the Slave, accused to have held the Candle, being wracked, did, in the most bitter Torments, clear his Patron.   

(h) For, as Crossbows wrought with Capstones.] The old Cross-bow cast Stones, or shot off 120 pounds' weight, which did great Execution upon Walls or Towers, almost a Mile distant from the Batteries.   

ay And other Engines.] As Hand-Cross-bows, and Bows; nay Slings, with the greater jerk they are sent; and the Axe on the Wood, or Beetle on the Wedge, the higher the hand is lift up, and set on with a groan.   

(k) That Epaminondas then gave a groan.] In the Battle of Mantinaea, after Epaminondas had led on gallantly, and made many personal Charges, he was unfortunately run thorough with a Javelin; being fallen, he demanded whether his Shield was safe; when it was brought to him, he kissed it, as the Companion of his Labours and Glory; again he enquired whether the Enemies were beaten; and understanding that also, he bid the Spear-head to be drawn out of his Wound, and so with loss of much Blood, triumphantly expired.     

SECT. XXV. — in Trials at home.  
YOU will say, But what are the Remedies in Peace? what at Home? what on the Bed of Sickness? you call me back to consider the Philosophers, who do not often engage in the Field. Amongst whom. Dionysius of Heraclea, a very fickle man, after he had learned of Zeno to be courageous, was by Pain brought to alter his judgement; for being troubled with Gravel in the Kidneys, in the midst of his roaring he cried out, that his former Tenets about Pain, were all false. And when his Fellow-Pupil Cleanthes, asked him, what reason had prevailed upon him, to quit his Principle, he replied, Because, I had studied Philosophy so much, and yet could not endure Pain; therefore he concluded that Pain was evil. Now I have spent many years in Philosophy, and yet cannot brook it, therefore is Pain evil. Then is Cleanthes, after he had stamped on the ground, reported to have repeated a Verse out of the Tragedy called Epigoxi.  
Amphiarchus, under ground hearest this.  
Zeno, he meant, from whose Instructions he was vexed, that the other had degenerated. But Posidonius, our Friend, was no such man; whom both I have often seen, and will now relate what Pompey was wont to tell; which was, that as he came to Rhodes, in his return from his Government of Syria, he had a desire to hear Posidonius read, but he was informed that he was very ill, being much afflicted with the Joynt-Gout; however he had a desire to visit him; as soon as he had seen him, enquired of his Health, and complemented him; and withal, added, that he looked upon it as his great misfortune that he could not hear him. He replied again, But you can; nor will I be so rude, as that any bodily Pain should occasion that a Person of your high Quality, should be disappointed in the Visit, wherewith you have honoured me. Hereupon he related, how, that as he lay on this Couch, he disputed with much Gravity, and at large upon this very subject, that nothing was good but what was honourable; and when the twitches of his Distemper would gird him sore, that he said often; Pain, you do but lose your labour, be as troublesome as you will, I shall never confess you to be evil. And indeed all eminent and renowned Labours whatsoever, by our contempt of them, come to be within a possibility also of being sustained.  


(l) What are the Remedies in Peace.] Having given Examples of Pain, voluntarily submitted to for Glory, he cometh to the part of more ordinary use, concerning support under painful Diseases; here from a twofold instance he demonstrates the question, reducing the contrary to an absurdity in that of Dionysius the Heracleate; and directly concluding it in that other of Posidonius.   

(m) Dionysius of Heraclea.] Surnamed the Turncoat, because troubled with Sore-eyes, as is elsewhere said, or with the Stone, as is here; he turned from the Stoics, to the Cyrenaicks. This account he gives of his change, because he had been long learning Philosophy, but had not yet attained to the Practical knowledge of it, therefore the Doctrine was not true. An absurd and inconsequential inference.   

(n) But our Friend Posidonius was no such man.] As to be brought to alter his judgement for Pain. Posidonius born at Apamea in Syria, was the Auditor of Antipater, lived at Rhodes, read Philosophy there, and was afterwards, by Pompey, made Governor of the place, whence he chose to be styled Rhodian. Tully, in his visit of Rhodes, saw him there.   

(o) In his return from his Government of Syria.] After Pompey had put a period to the Mithridatick War, in his return home, he touched upon Rhodes, where he heard the several Professors read, and gave them the Honorary of Talents apiece; the like he did at Athens.     

SECT. XXVI. — and in all laudable erterprises.  
DO we not see, where those Games, which are called Playing for Mastery, are in high Reputation, that no Pain is declined by such as undertake to strive for the Prize? In places too, where Hunting and Horsemanship are in much esteem; they that would excel in that Skill, avoid no hardship. What should I speak of our canvasing, what of the pursuit after Honours? What Fire would not they run through, who formerly carried those places by Majority of Voices? Therefore Africanus was never wont to let Xenophon the Socratic go out of his hands, in whom he much commended this Passage, that the same labours are not equally grievous to the Commander, and to the common Soldier, because the very Honour did somewhat abate the Commanders Trouble. But so it cometh to pass, that an Opinion of Honour bears great sway among the generality of the indiscreet and false principled, who cannot attain to the true Sense of it. Therefore they are carried away by the common Cry and Judgement of the Multitude, to think that Honourable which is commended by the most. But as for you, though you be in the Eyes of the Multitude, yet I would not have you stand to their judgement, nor esteem that to be best, which they esteem so; you must follow your own Conscience; if you shall take complacency in yourself, upon a sound judgement, then will you not only conquer yourself, as I before directed you; but all Persons also, and all things. Propose this therefore to yourself, that a largeness and loftiness of Spirit, mounted as high as may be, above the common level and lower Road of Mankind, being most conspicuous in looking down with contempt upon Pain, is the bravest thing in the World, and so much the braver, if it be removed from the multitude, nor Court applause, and only please itself. And truly, in my judgement, all actions seem more laudable, that are done without Ostentation, and calling the People to witness. Not yet that we should avoid them, (for all good Works are best placed in the light,) but because Virtue can have no Theatre more ample than its own Conscience.  


(p) Where those Games.] In Greece.   

(q) Where Hunting and Horsemanship.] In Persia.   

(r) What should I speak of our canvasing.] The great Fatigues which Persons of Quality oblige themselves to undergo, when they Sue for any place of Honour and Trust, at the courtesy of a Popular Election, are excellently well described in a Treatise written express by Tully's Brother, Quimus Cicero, to direct him in the means he must use, when he stood for the Consulship; but because some do not love to be referred from Book to Book, I shall appeal to their own Experiences in the concern of those who stand for Knight or Burgess in Parliament: The petty Arts on different hands, used to fix the Mobile; the profusion of Estates; and too often the most unblemished Reputation for Prudence and Integrity, set up, as a Stale, to the Interest of a Faction.   

(s) You must follow your own Conscience.] A well-regulated Conscience, is God's Vicegerent, and in his Name acquit or condemns. Here are honest Prudentials, directing to gain a good Name, without Popularity or Ostentation.     

CHAP. XXVII. Our Patience must be of equal Temper, as to the Field in Battle, or the Bed in Sickness.  
BUT especially let us inure ourselves to this, that our Patience, (which, I have often already said, we must confirm with a sturdy Resolution of mind) be uniform, as to all sorts of Sufferings; for oftentimes many, who, out of desire of Victory or Glory, or else to maintain their own Rights and Liberty, have received Wounds courageously, and bore them in quiet; yet the same Persons having relaxed the bent of their Resolution, cannot endure the anguish of a Disease; for neither did they, out of Reason or Principles of Wisdom, endure that Pain which they did endure, but rather out of Heat and Gallantry. Therefore some Barbarous and Savage People can Fight stoutly, but cannot bear Sickness manfully: On the contrary, the Grecians, not over-valiant, but prudent enough in their way, cannot look an Enemy in the Face, yet the same Persons take Diseases patiently, and with a Moderation, becoming Masters of Reason. But the Cimbrians and Celtiberians shout in Battle, lament in Sickness. For nothing can be even, that doth not proceed from a steady Principle of Reason; but when you behold those that are led by desire or opinion, not to be deterred by Pain from the Prosecution and acquiring of their proposed object; you must either conclude that Pain is not evil; or although we should agree, that whatsoever is rough and disagreeable to Nature, be called evil, yet it is so little, that it is swallowed up by valour, so that it appeareth not at all. Meditate on these things, I beseech you, day and night. For this consideration will extend itself farther, and take up more room, than to be restrained only to this Point, about Pain; for if in all our Actions, we shall have regard to the avoiding baseness, and acquiring Honour, we may then outbrave, not only the Disciplines of Pain, but also the Thunderclaps of Fortune; especially having at hand that refuge-provided by our yesterday Disputation. For as if, when one is at Sea chased by Pirates, God should say to him, Cast yourself overboard, there is one stands ready to receive you; as the Dolphin did Arion of Methymna; or, as the Sea-born Horses of Pelops, bestowed upon him by Neptune, who are said to have run along with his Chariot, skimming the Surface of the Waters; these shall take you up, and Land you at your desired Port: such a one would discard all fear; so when pungent and horrible Pains press, if they be so great, as not to be stood under, you see the place of retreat. This I have thought proper to be spoken at this time; but you perhaps adhere to your former judgement.  S. 
Indeed, Sir, I do not; and hope, that within this two days, I am delivered from the fear of two things, which I did most apprehend.  M. 
Tomorrow, therefore, at the hour; for so we have agreed: But I find you cannot hold to the Assignation.  S. 
I shall punctually, and the other exercise before Noon.  M. 
We will be ready, and comply with your most laudable desires.  


(t) But Prudent enough in their way.] Tully sets himself every where to repress the fond conceit of the Greeks, in engrossing Wisdom to themselves, because of their Scholastical Niceties; and in magnifying their warlike Achievements beyond all measure, whereas they were now fallen from their old Martial Glory; the Lacedæmonians having, in great measure, degenerated from the Constitutions of Lycurgus; and the Athenians turned to servile Flattery.   

(u) But the Cimbrians.] In Germany.   

(w) And Celtiberians.] In Spain.   

(x) That Refuge.] Mark the Artifice of Elocution; the name of death carrieth Terror with it, and is dismal to Humane Apprehension, therefore he substitutes for it, that of a Refuge, a place of retreat, a desired Port; but yet to count any Pain too great to be stood under, so as to resolve against continuance in Life, is a Stoical repugnancy, and derogatory from true Fortitude.   

(y) As the Dolphin did Arion of Methymna.] Arion an excellent Harper, having amassed much Wealth, by his Art in the City of Greece, upon his return home, the Seamen discovering his charge of Money, Pirates, as they were conspired to heave him overboard, he begged of them the respite till he could tune his Harp on the Deck; which as he touched, the Dolphins playing about the sides of the Ship, delighted with his Airs; one of them took him up on its back gently, and wafted him over safe to Tenarus. Methymna is a City of Lesbos; the Territory, about it, famous for generous Wines, and the Country of Arion.   

(z) As the Sea-born Horses of Pelops, bestowed upon him by Neptune.]. Pelops the Son of Tantalus, came from Phrygia, into that part of Greece, from him denominated Peloponnesus; there he fell in Love with Hippodamia. Her Father had received an Oracle, that he was to die when his Daughter married; and thereupon set up a Race of Chariots in the Isthmos of Corinth, at the Altar of Neptune; the Prize was, his Daughter to the Victor, but the loser was killed; many had he beaten and slain in the Race; when Pelops, having received a Set of Coach-Horses from Neptune, and bribed the Coachman of Oenomaus to break his Wheel in driving, as he passed by, slew the Father, and carried off the Daughter, and with the same Horses passed over Sea.      

The Cure of Discontent. The Causes and Remedy of the Depravation of Humane Nature, are premised, Sect. 1, 2, 3.  
Book III.  

SECT. I. The Reluctancy of depraved Man, against his own Cure.  
WHAT should I take to be the Cause, most worthy Brutus, since we consist of Body and Soul? why an Art hath been sought out for recovering and preserving the Body's Health, and the usefulness of it attributed to the Invention of the Gods; but the Physic of the Soul was neither so much wanted, before it was found out; nor so much frequented since its discovery; nor is so agreeable and accepted by many; nay, is suspected and loathed by the greater part; Is it because we judge of the Body's Infirmity and Pain, by the Soul; but have no Sense of the Souls Maladies by the Body? So it happens that the Soul does not pass judgement of itself, till that which is to give the judgement be distempered. Now if Nature had brought us into the World with an Original Ability, to look into, and clearly discern her Ordinance; and that under her surest conduct we might pass the course of our Life; there would be no reason, why any should have use of Logic or Philosophy. But now she hath put into us only some small glimmerings, which we being suddenly corrupted with ill habits and opinions, so far stifle, that the Light of Nature doth no where appear; for there are Seeds of Virtues innate in our very Souls; which if they might spring up till they come to maturity, Nature itself would conduct us to Happiness of Life. But now as soon as we are brought into this World, and taken up, we are presently encompassed with all Corruption of Manners, and falsehood of Opinion; that we may seem to have sucked in Error almost with our Nurses Milk. But when we are brought home to Parents, and then turned over to Masters, we are seasoned with such variety of Mistakes, that Truth is forced to yield to falsehood, and Nature itself to prejudicated Opinion.  


(a) Attributed to the Invention of the Gods.] Apollo and Aesculapius.   

(b) Till that, which is to give the judgement, be distempered] Therefore not only the inferior Faculties of Will and Passions are disordered, but the Superior Power of the Soul, the Understanding is disturbed and Sick, contrary to the answer which he gave Panaetius above, about the Sickness of the Soul: This, in reference to the mind, consists in a Corruption of Judgement, and reprobate Sense; only curable by attention and assent to sound Doctrine.     

SECT. II. Further Causes of the Depravation of Humane Nature.  
THAN come in the Poets: These carrying a great appearance of Learning and Wisdom, are heard, read, conned without Book, and stick in our Memories; but superadd to all, as it were, our highest Master, the People, and the whole Multitude, on every side, conspiring in favour of Vice, than we become entirely debauched in judgements, and fall off from our very Natures. So that they seem to me, to have envied us the Prerogative of the best Nature, who have judged nothing better for man, nothing more desirable, nothing more excellent than Honours, than Commands, than Popular Glory, toward which, the best of men pursue; and affecting that true Honour which Nature doth propose, as the sole object of its most diligent Enquiry, grasp at mere Emptiness and Vanity. These pursue no substantial and grand Figure of Virtue, but a superficial and shadowed resemblance of Glory. For Glory is a solid thing, and substantial, not a faint shadow; it is the concurrent praise of good men; the incorrupt approbation of such as judge rightly, concerning excellency in Virtue; that answers to Virtue, as the echo. Which being the attendant on honest Actions, is not to be rejected by good men; but that which apeth it, popular vogue, a rash and inconsiderate crier up of Vices for the most part, by a semblance of Honour, sets a false varnish in the place of a true and natural Beauty. Men, out of this blindness, having been imported with an ardent desire after some sort of Excellency; yet having withal, entertained a false Notion, wherein it consisted; and what are its Properties; some have utterly subverted the Government of their Countries; others have fallen themselves in the Contest. Now these propounding to themselves the noblest end, do not so much wilfully miscarry, as through mistake of the way; What shall we say of them, who are acted by the love of Money, or Pleasures; and whose Spirits are to that degree disturbed, as that they come little short of madness, which is the Case of all unwise men; can no course be taken for their Cure? Is it because Maladies of the Soul are less hurtful, than those of the Body? or because Bodies may be cured, there is no Physic for Souls?   

SECT. III. That the Soul may have Remedies for its Distempers.  
WHEREAS, in truth, there are more and more dangerous Diseases of the Soul, than of the Body: For even these latter, are therefore vexatious, because they reach the Soul, and afflict it. Now the Soul vexed, is (as saith Ennius) to all quiet lost: Stays no where long; by new Lusts still is tossed. Now what Bodily Diseases, in the whole World, can be more grievous than those two Diseases (to pass over the rest) I say, than Discontent and Lust? But how can it be proved, that it should be able to cure itself; when it was the Soul that invented the Art of curing the Body? And whereas the disposition of Bodies and Nature doth work much towards the curing of Bodies; nor are Patients yet come under cure by certain consequence cured; Souls, on the contrary, which are willing to be restored to their Health, and follow the Prescriptions of the Wise, do undoubtedly recover. In truth, there is a faculty of curing Souls, even Philosophy; whose succour is not, as in bodily Diseases, to be fetched from abroad; but we must, with our whole might, and by all means, labour that we may cure ourselves. Although, as to Philosophy in its whole Latitude, how much it is to be desired and studied, hath been, I suppose, sufficiently discoursed in my Treatise on that Subject, called Hortensius; and since that time, we have scarcely ever ceased, both disputing and writing upon Points of highest Importance: In these Books too, are laid down those Disputes which we had among Friends that came to visit us at our House at Tusculum. But because in the two former, there hath been spoken as to Death and Pain; the third days Dispute shall make this third Volume; for as soon as we were come down into our Academy, I bid any one of them, that were in presence, propose a Subject to debate upon: Then the Matter proceeded thus.  

(c) In my Treatise on that Subject, called Hortensius.] Tully writ a Book, wherein he answers the Objections against Philosophy, made by Hortensius; and therefore calls it by his Name; it is not now extant.    

SECT. IV. The Position offers it as a probable Opinion, that a Wise man is liable to Discontent.  S. 
IT is my judgement, that Discontent may be incident to a Wise man.  M. 
May the other Disturbances too; Fears, Lusts, Wrathfulness; for these are, in a manner, of that Nature which the Greeks call Passions, I might Diseases, and the word would fully justify me. But the Expression hath not been received in our Language; for Pitying, Envying, Giggling, Rejoicing, all these the Greeks call Diseases, being Commotions of the mind rebelling against Reason: but we may, as I suppose, style the same inordinate Emotions of mind, Distempers; Diseases we cannot, in any received Sense of the Word, unless you be of another judgement.  S. 
I am, in that, clearly of your mind.  M. 
Do you think then, that these are incident to a Wise man?  S. 
Plainly I am of your opinion, that they are.  M. 
Then truly this Wisdom, so much glorified, is of no great value, since it differs not much from madness.  S. 
What do you take every stirring the Affections, for stark madness?  M. 
I am not the only Person that take it to be so; but that which I use often to admire, I find that this was the Sense of our Ancestors, many Ages before Socrates, from whom all this Doctrine of Life and Manners is derived.  S. 
How doth that appear?  M. 
Because the name of Distemper, signifieth a Sickness and Disease of the mind; that is, being out of Temper; and that crazedness of mind, which they called madness, or being distempered. Now the Philosophers style all Passions Diseases, and say, that no Fool is free from these Diseases; but they that are not in Temper, are Distempered. Now the Souls of all unwise men are not in Temper, therefore all unwise men are Distempered. Now this Temper of Souls, they judged to be placed in a calmness and constancy of mind; a mind destitute of these things, they called Distemper, or Madness; because in a disturbed Mind, as well as Body, there can be no good Temper.   

SECT. V. That men, imported by Passions, are Mad.  
NOR was that less ingenuous, when they termed such habit of the mind, as is withdrawn from the conduct of Wisdom, being out of the Wits, or besides one's self. Whence we may perceive, that those who gave these Names to things, were of the same judgement as Socrates delivered, and the Stoics have firmly maintained, that all unwise men, are not sound in their Principle. Now the Soul that is any ways Diseased, (and the Philosophers, as I lately said, term these inordinate Motions Diseases) is no more sound, than the Body when it is Diseased. So it follows, that Wisdom is the soundness of the Mind; but Folly a kind of unsoundness, Distemper, and being out of the Wits. And these words are much more significant and expressive in Latin than in Greek; as it occurs in many Instances a different Import; but of that elsewhere; now to the matter in hand. The importance therefore, of the very word, declareth of what Nature and Property the whole matter under question is. For they must needs be understood sound of mind, whose mind is disturbed with no Passion, as with a Disease. Those who are chose affected, must needs be called unsound of Mind, Distempered, or Mad. Therefore nothing can be better expressed, than the Latin Phrase, when we say of men, that they are broke loose from Government, when they are transported with unbridled Lust or Anger; although Anger itself be but a sort of Lust; for Anger is defined to be a Lust of Revenge. They, therefore, that are said not to be their own Masters, are therefore said so to be, because they are not under the Government of their Understanding; to which Faculty the Sovereignty of the whole Soul is by Nature given. Now whence the Greeks derive their name for Madness, I cannot easily guests; but we are more distinct in our Terms than they; for we separate this Distemper of Mind, which is joined with Folly, and of larger extent from distractedness. The Greeks, indeed, aim at a peculiar word, but are not very happy in it. What we call Rage, they term Melancholy. As though the Soul were only disturbed by Choler adust, and not oftentimes, either by excess of Wrath, or Fear, or Grief; with which sort of Rage, we say Athamus, Alcmaeon, Ajax, Orestes were transported. He that is in this Circumstance, the twelve Tables forbid him to have the management of his own Estate. Therefore it is not written, if he cometh to be unsound of judgement, but to be distracted. For they judged that Folly, that is, a shallowness of Parts, or a mind fickle and destitute of sound judgement, might discharge ordinary Offices, and answer the common and daily occasions of the World; but they looked upon being distracted, as a total darkness of the Understanding; which though it seem a greater Evil, than want of a sound Judgement; yet is this of that Malignity, that a wise man may be distracted, but cannot be of an unsound Mind; lose his Reason he may, but cannot act against it, while he hath it. But this is another question, let us return to the Proposition in hand; I suppose you said it was your Opinion, that a wise man might be liable to Discontent.  S. 
In truth I am of that mind.  


(d) And these words are much more significant and expressive in Latin than in Greek.] Tully seeks all occasion of Buoying up the Latin Tongue against the Greeks; and therefore a little below picks a Quarrel with their term for being Mad.   

(e) A wise man may be distracted, but cannot be of an unsound Mind.] Wisdom is consistent with Madness, as with Sleep; but no more reconcilable to folly, than light is to darkness.     

SECT. VI The absurdity of denying a Wise man all use of the Affections, is declined.  M. 
IT is from good Nature that you are so minded; for we are not hewed out of the hard Rock, but there is implanted in the very Nature of our Souls somewhat tender and soft, which is subject to be beaten with the Sense of Evil, as with hardness of Wether. And Crantor of principal Renown in our Academy, said not improperly. I am by no means of their mind, who cry up a strange unintelligible Notion of perfect insensibility; whereas there neither can nor should be any such disposition. My first option is, saith he, that I may not be ill; but if I be at any time, let me be sensible, whether any Incision be made, or part dismembered; for that same dedolency is not acquired, but at the charges of long and sore Afflictions, whereby the Body is mortified, and the Soul hardened. However we may do well to consider, whether this be not the Language of such as flatter our Infirmities, and fond comply with our carnal Ease. But for our own parts, let us take up a bold Resolution, not only to lop off the out-boughs of our disquiet, but to pluck up the very Roots with all the Fibres and tendrels of them. Somewhat will perhaps nevertheless be left behind, such deep rooting have the Stump of Folly taken in our Hearts; but that only will be left, which is of necessary use. Take this for a certain truth, unless the Soul be cured, which can never be done without Philosophy, there will be no end of our Miseries. Wherefore, since we have begun, let us deliver up ourselves to be her Patients. Recover we shall, if we be put willing, and I will carry it on further; for I shall not only speak to Discontent, though I shall to that in the first place; but to every Distemper of the Soul, as I have laid it down, or every Disease of it, as the Greeks term them. And first, if it please you, let us proceed in the Stoics way, who are wont to cast their Arguments into strict and bare Syllogisms; then we will dilate after our own Fashion.  

(f) Whether this be not the Language of such as flatter on Infirmities.] The subject of warrantable Mortification, is not what is natural, but what is corrupt; yet we shall do well, to give diligent heed, lest an Enemy escape in the garb of a Friend.    

SECT. VII. The Assertion opposed by an Argument from the Topick of Fortitude.  
EVERY Valiant man hath also Assurance, (since Confidence, by a vulgar mistake, is only restrained to a bad Sense, although derived from confiding, which is commendable.) Now he that hath Assurance, cannot be in Fear; for to have Assurance, and be in Fear, are implicatory. But he that is liable to Discontent, is also to Fear; for we Fear those things impending and approaching, at whose presence we are Discontented. So it follows, that Fortitude and Discontent are incompatible. It is therefore likely, that he who is liable to Discontent, is also liable to Fear, to Faint-heartedness, and dejection of Spirit; and he that is liable to these, is liable to be a Slave, to confess himself, at some time or other, worsted; and he that can admit of these, will admit of timorousness and Cowardice; but these things are not incident to a valiant man, therefore neither is Discontent. Now none is Wise, but he that is Valiant; therefore neither is Discontent incident to a wise man. Furthermore, he that is Valiant, must needs be brave Spirited; and he that is of a brave Spirit, invincible; and he that is invincible, must despise the World, and look upon it, as beneath him; but none can despise that, for which he can be Discontented. From whence necessarily follows, that a Valiant man is never Discontented; but all wise men are Valiant, therefore Discontent is not incident to a Wise man: And even as the Eye being out of order, is not duly disposed to the performance of its Office; and the other parts, nay the whole Body, when it is out of order, cannot discharge its Office and Duty; so the Mind being out of order, is not in fit case to discharge its Office. Now the Office of the Soul, is to use its Reason aright; and a Wise man's Soul is always so disposed, that he useth his Reason after a most right manner, therefore it is never disturbed; but Discontent is a disturbance of the Soul, therefore a Wise man will be always free from it.  

(g) Every Valiant man.] Syllogistical Disputation was after the Stoical way, which begins here.    

SECT. VIII. — by another from that of Temperance.  
IT is further likely, that he who is Temperate; whom the Greeks call Sober, and name the Virtue itself Sobriety, which I am wont sometimes to term Temperance, other times Moderation, and another while Modesty; which yet I know not but it may be rightly called Integrity; this is more narrowly expressed among the Greeks, who call men of Integrity only useful men; but the Term is of larger extent, for it is all sort of abstinence, all sort of innocence; this hath no usual Name in Greek, but might be called by a word importing harmlessness; for Innocence is such a disposition of mind, as to harm no Body. Integrity comprehends also all the other Virtues; which unless it were so great, and had it been confined within the narrow bounds of Frugality or Thrift, as some conceive, the Surname of L. Piso had never been so honourable; but because neither he that, through Fear, hath quitted his Garrison, which is an act of Cowardice; nor he, who for covetousness, hath denied to restore a Trust secretly committed to him, which is an act of Injustice; nor he, who through rashness, hath miscarried in any undertaking, which is a piece of Folly; because none of these are wont to be called honest men, or men of Integrity: Therefore Integrity comprehends three of the Virtues, Fortitude, Justice, and Prudence; and if it do so, it is common to all the Virtues; for all the Virtues are linked and fastened inseparably to one another. Therefore Integrity must needs be the remaining and fourth Virtue; for it seemeth to have this Property, to regulate and compose the Affections, always to repress the Enormity of the Will, and to preserve a constant Moderation in all things. The contrary Vice to which, is called Naughtiness. Frugality is, as I suppose, from Fruit, than which, nothing better springs out of the Earth. Naughtiness is hence, (though, perhaps it may be somewhat hard, however let us assay, though it pass but for an Allusion, if there should be nothing more) it is hence derived from, that such a man hath not aught in him, whereupon he is also said to be nothing worth. He, then, that is Honest, or, if you had rather, that is Modest and Temperate, must of necessity be Constant; and he that is Constant, Quiet; he that is Quiet, free from all Disturbance; and consequently Discontent; but these are the Properties of a Wise man; therefore Discontent will be far from a Wise 〈…〉.   

SECT. IX. — by an Induction from Particular Passions of Wrath, Envy.  
SO that Dionysius of Heraclea Disputes not unhandsomely upon that Passage of Homer, wherein Achilles complains to this purpose, as I take it.  
My Heart swells big, whilst I on this reflect,  
Robbed of my Lawful Prize, and just respect.  
Is the Hand rightly disposed, when it is swelled? or is there any other Member which hath a Rising or Swelling, that is not out of order? in like manner, therefore, the Soul, puffed up or swollen, is out of order; but the wise man's Soul is always in order, therefore it never rifeth, never swelleth. But now the Soul in anger is so; therefore a wise man is never angry, for if he be angry, he also Lusts; for it is the property of one angry, to desire a fixing the most grievous Pain on him, by whom he thinks he is injured; and he who covets that, if he shall obtain it, must necessarily be transported with joy; whence it follows, that he must rejoice at another's harm; which because it is not incident to a wise man, neither is it incident to him to be angry; but if Discontent were incident to a wise man, so also were the Passion of Anger; but because he is free from this, so must he be also from that of Discontent. For if a wise man were liable to Discontent, so might he also be to Pity, so might he also be to Envy. I use a word of active signification, because the ordinary Latin word rather signifieth passively an Odium, that so we may decline the Iniquity of the Term; now the Latin word for Envy, is derived from a Verb, which imports looking very wistfully upon another's Beauty; as in the Play Menalippus.  Who on my blooming Sons looked with ill eye? 
The Latin Construction seems wrong, but Attins said singularly well; who though he departs from Custom, at present prevailing, yet challenged the Privilege of a Poet, ventured to follow the natural Analogy.   

SECT. X. — and Pity.  
THerefore also the Passions of Pity and Envy are incident to the same Subject. For he that is grieved at some one's Adversity, is also grieved at some one's Prosperity. As Theophrastus' deploring the untimely death of calisthenes his Fellow-Student, maligneth the good successes of Alexander; therefore he saith, that Calisthenes' light upon Relation to a Person of the greatest Power, and highest Fortune; but ignorant how to manage Prosperity as he ought. Now as Mercy is the being afflicted at another's Adversity; so Envy is the being afflicted at another's Prosperity. Whosoever, therefore, is liable to Pity, the same is also liable to Envy; but Envy is not incident to a wise man; therefore neither is Pity. Now if a wise man used to take Discontent, he would use also to take Pity; therefore a wise man is not liable to Discontent. These Arguments are thus brought by the Stoics, and inferred by legitimate Conclusions; but they are to be discoursed somewhat more at large, and with greater Variety. Yet we must maintain their Tenets more expressly, who have proceeded upon the most courageous, and as I may say, manly Principle and Opinion. For our Friends the Peripatetics, though there be nothing under Heaven more Copious than they are, nothing more Learned, nothing more Grave, yet do not make out, to my judgement, a Moderation either of the Distempers or Diseases of the Soul; for every Evil, though but indifferent great, is great: But we are proving this, that there is no such thing at all in a wise man: For as the Body, if it be but indifferent, is not well; so if there be the same indifferency in the Soul, it is not in Health. Therefore our Ancestors did excellently well name, as many other things after their Propriety, so Vexation, Disquiet, Anxiety a Distemper; and the Greeks express every disorder of mind, by a Term near the same; for they call every inordinate Sally of the Spirit, a Passion, which in that Language imports a Disease. We more properly; for the Distemper of the mind bears great Analogy with bodily Sickness. But Lust is not like Sickness; nor is immoderate Joy, which is an ecstatical and extravagant pleasure of the Mind. Nay, Fear itself is not very like a Disease, though it borders upon Discontent. But properly, as Sickness in the Body, so Distemper in the Soul, hath a name not severed from Pain; therefore the Original of this Pain, is to be laid open by us; that is, the efficient cause of Distemper in the Soul, as of Sickness in the Body; for as Physicians, having found out the cause of a Disease, think the Cure found out; so we, having discovered the Cause of Discontent, shall find out the method of curing it.  


(h) As Theophrastus' deploring the untimely death of calisthenes his Fellow-Student.] calisthenes the Olynthian was well known to Alexander the Great, having studied together under the same Tutor Aristotle. The King took him along with him to Pen the History of his Asian Achievements; but the freedom of his Discourse, and uncomplying demeanour, wrought his overthrow. For when King Alexander, now Lord of Asia, required of his Macedons, to give him the Ceremony of Persian Adoration; he, with some others of the Macedonian Nobles, too openly declared their dislike of it. The haughty young Victor could not brook, that the Majesty of his Empire, and with that, Grandeur improved, should be disputed by his Vasals; and therefore is said, under a colour of a Sham-Plot of Hermolaus, to have executed many of the Nonconforming Nobility; but Calisthenes he first mangled and disfigured; cut off his Ears, Nose, and Lips; afterwards put him into a Cage with a Dog, and so carried him about whithersoever the Army marched; till at last he died with the torture and regret of Spirit. Theophrastus' wrote a Book entitled Calisthenes, or a Lamentation from whence this Passage is quoted,   

ay These Arguments are thus brought by the Stoics.] From strict Arguing, he cometh to examine Terms, and prepares the way to enlarge more clearly on the Subject.     

SECT. XI. The Cause of Dissatisfaction, is a mistake in Opinion.  
THE whole, therefore, is in Opinion; nor is that the Cause of Discontent only, but of all the other Passions also, which are four general ones, but subdivided into more Particulars; for whereas every Passion is a Motion of the Mind, either destitute of Reason, or slighting Reason, or not obeying Reason; and the same motion is raised from an opinion either of Good or Evil; the four Passions are equally distributed under two heads; for two arise from an opinion of Good; the one of which is a fond Pleasure, that is elevated beyond the due measure, from an opinion of any great Good, whereof we have the Possession; the other may be rightly called, either a coveting or Lust; which is an immoderate pursuit after some conceived great Good, not obeying Reason. These two sorts therefore, fond Pleasure, and Lust, are disorderly upon a conceit of Good; as the other two, Fear and Discontent, of Evil. For both Fear is an Opinion of some great evil impending; and Discontent is an Opinion of some great Evil incumbent; and further a fresh conceit of such Evil, as that it is just to be disquieted at it; which cometh to this, that the Party grieving, thinks he ought to grieve. Now if we would pass that portion of Life which is allotted us with any Peace and Serenity, we must with our whole Strength and Succours from abroad, resist these Passions, which Folly in common Conversation sets in upon us, as certain Furies, and incenseth them. But as to the other elsewhere; now let us, as we are able, repel Discontent. Let that be our present Subject; since you said that it was, in your opinion, incident to a wise man, which I do by no means allow, for it is a desperate, wretched, detestable thing, to be run from, as from a Pirate, by making all Sail, and tugging hard at the Oar, as is in the Proverb.  


(k) The whole therefore.] The Passions are here with great perspicuity described in their Cause, Objects, and the Times of them; their Cause, and Opinion its object Good or Evil; Imminent or Incumbent.  
Opinion of 

Good 

Future Desire.  
Present Joy.    
Evil 

Future Fear.  
Present Discontent.       

(m) But as to the other elsewhere.] In the following Debate, which is the fourth Tusculane Question.     

SECT. XII. The Picture of Discontent in certain unfortunate Princes.  
FOR how like you, that Grandson of Tantalus, Son of Pelops;  
Who from Oenomaus, his winged Steeds outrun,  
The Royal Bride Hippodamia won.  
Great Grandson of Jupiter: Should he therefore have been so mean, so dis-spirited as to say;  
Friends keep aloof; hold there, lest my breath blast,  
Or shadow on the good Infection cast;  
Such Power of Gild doth to my Body cleave.  
Thyestes! will you condemn yourself, and cast away the Comfort of your Life, for the Power of another's Gild? What think you of the man descended of the Sun? Do you not judge him unworthy to behold the very light of his Father?  
My Eyes are sunk; my Body wan and spent;  
Salt Tears deep Furrows on my Cheeks indent:  
My knotted Beard with filth and stench replete;  
O'ergrown, against my nasty Breast doth beat.  
Aeetes, greatest of Fools, thou hast added these Evils to thyself; there were none such among Fortune's Inflictions on thee: And this thou hast done after the trouble had grown old, and the swelling of the Soul was assuaged. Now Discontent consists, as I shall make out, in a conceit of a fresh Evil; but you afflict yourself, as it appears, for lack of Empire, not your Daughter; her you hated, and that perhaps not without reason; you could not, with any Patience, be without a Kingdom. Now that is an impudent grief, to pine away with melancholy, because one cannot usurp Sovereignty over a Free People. Dionysius the Tyrant, banished from Syracuse, kept School at Corinth; so impossible was it for him to live without Empire. But what was more impudent than Tarquin, who waged War with those who could not brook his Haughtiness. He then seeing he could not be restored to his Crown, neither by the Vejan nor Latin Arms, is said to have retired to Cunae, and in that City to have been consumed with Vexation and Melancholy.  


(n) For the Power of another's Gild.] Thyestes cries out, as above, when he had sup'd-upon his two Sons, set on the Table by his Brother Atreus.   

(o) The man descended of the Sun.] Aeetes King of Colchos, said to be born of the Sun; had a Ram with a Golden Fleece, by the Gracle delivered to be the Mystical Pledge of his Kingdom; when Jason came in the Expedition of the Argonauts, Medea falling in Love with him, betrayed it, and her Father after lost his Kingdom; and thereupon in the Tragedies he thus laments.   

(p) Dionysius the Tyrant banished from Syracuse, kept School at Corinth.] This was Dionysius the younger, first driven out by Dion; and afterwards recovering, with exercise of greater Cruelty; but finally ejected by Timoleon the Corinthian, and sent to Corinth, where he taught Children, as Tully facetiously remarks, from ambition of retaining an Image of Empire, though over that small Flock.   

(q) Than Tarquin.] The seventh and last King of the old Romans, who for his Cruelty and more intolerable Pride, was expulsed. Tully dwells much upon deposed Princes, not without some tacit Reflection on Julius Cesar; and stomach for the Roman Liberty oppressed.     

SECT. XIII. Not to Despair, under whatever pressures we lie.  
NOW do you think this possible to befall a wise man, to be overwhelmed with Discontent, that is, with Misery? For whereas every Passion is Misery, Discontent is a Rack. Lust hath its Scorching; Fond Pleasure its Levity; Fear a meanness of Spirit; but Discontent carrieth along with it more destructive Evils; a Consumption, Torturc, Vexation, Deformity. It tears, it frets the Soul like a Canker, and utterly brings it to Destruction. Unless we put off this, so as to cast it away, we can never want for Misery. Now this is clear, that Discontent doth then arise, when somewhat hath the appearance, as if some great evil did seem present and pressing upon us. Here Epicurus is of the judgement that a conceit of Evil, is formally Discontent; that whosoever looks upon any signal Evil; if he thinks that to be fallen upon him, he becometh immediately Discontented. The Cyrenaicks do not think that Discontent is wrought by every Evil; but by that only which is sudden and unexpected. That is, indeed, of no small moment to heighten the Trouble; for all sudden accidents appear the more grievous; to which purpose that Passage is quoted as well spoken.  
I knew that they, whom I begot, must die,  
And bred them up that prospect in my Eye:  
Further, when I the Youths to Troy did send,  
With Courage Greece's Freedom to defend;  
I knew they were for bloody Battle pressed,  
And not invited to a Bridal Feast.  

(r) The Cyrenaicks.] The Followers of Aristippus, who held Pleasure the chiefest good.    

SECT. XIV. Meditation on possible Events, abates the Evil of bad ones.  
THIS Premeditation, therefore, on future Evils, renders their coming less insupportable by their being descried at a great distance in the way before their nearer approach. Hence the Saying of Theseus in Euripides is commended, which we shall take the Liberty to translate out of the Original, as we have often done the like on other occasions.  
ay, as by a great Scholar taught,  
On future Troubles fixed my thought;  
Untimely Death, or Banishment,  
Still to me did some Cross present;  
That, whatsoever Change should arise,  
Might me not unprepared surprise.  
Now what Theseus, saith he, heard of a learned man, that Euripides, by a Figure, transfers to him from himself; for he had been the Hearer of Anaxagoras; concerning whom they report, that upon the News brought of his Son's death, he replied, I know that I begot him Mortal; which expression declareth, that these occurrents are sharp to them, by whom they have not been considered. Therefore it is no question, but that all things which are reputed evil, fall more grievous, when they come unawares. So that although this be not the sole Cause which creates the greatest Disquiet; yet, because the foresight and preparation of the Soul is of great Power to the diminishing of Grief, let all the incidents to Humane Life be well considered by every man: and in truth this is that excellent and Divine Wisdom, to have a full insight and experience of all the Chances of Humane Life; to admire nothing when it is happened; to suppose of nothing, but that it may come to pass, before it is come to pass.  
Wherefore all men, whilst in most prosperous State;  
To bear affliction, most should meditate.  
Suits, Fines, safe home returned, still bear in mind;  
Son faulty, Daughter sick, Wife dead to find.  
All common, possible; nothing new appear;  
What unexpected cometh for profit clear.   

SECT. XV. — Is also ground of Constancy.  
NOW since Terence hath so aptly insinuated this Notion borrowed from Philosophy; shall not we, out of whose Fountains it is drawn, both say the same thing better, and more firmly hold it? for this is that countenance always the same, which Xanthippe is reported to have used to declare, that her-Husband Socrates had, and that she saw him have one and the same when he went forth, and when he returned home again. Nor was it that brow which M. Crassus the Ancient bore, of whom Lucilius reports, that he laughed but once all his life-time; but it was calm and serene, for so have we received by Tradition. And well might it be always the same countenance, when there was no alteration in the mind, by which the looks are fashioned. Wherefore I receive from the Cyrenaicks, these Arms against contingent Events, whereby their approaching insults, may, through long Premeditation, be rebated; and withal I judge, that their Evil is from conceit, and not nature. For if it were in that object, why would they be alleviated by being foreseen? but there is somewhat more accurately to be spoken on this matter after we have looked into the opinion of Epicurus, who judgeth that they must all of necessity be Discontented, who conceive themselves to be under Evils, whether these Evils have been foreseen and expected; or whether they are grown old; for that neither are Evils abated by long time, nor yet alleviated by foresight of them; and that the poring on Evils not yet come, and perhaps that never will come, is foolish. For that all Evil is Vexation enough, when it is come; but he that is always thinking that some Adversity may possibly befall him, to him it becometh an everlasting Evil; but if it shall never actually come upon him, a voluntary Disquiet is taken up on false grounds; so the mind is always vexed, either with enduring, or expecting Evil. But the relief of Discontent he placeth in two things, a taking of the mind from considering its troubles, and setting it on the Contemplation of Pleasures; for he judges the Soul in capacity to obey Reason, and to follow whether that leads: therefore Reason forbids to dwell upon the Causes of its Trouble: it fetcheth off from anxious thoughts, the sight of the mind dimmed with poring upon its Miseries; and when it hath sounded a retreat from them, it pusheth it forward again, and provoketh it to look on, and with the whole fancy taste variety of Pleasures; with which he thinks the life of a wise man is filled, both through the memory of the past, and hope of following ones. This account we have given after our own fashion; the Epicureans deliver after theirs; but let us see what grounds we have to slight what they say.   

SECT. XVI. The contrary Tenet of Epicurus and his Followers.  
FIRST they do ill to reprove a Premeditation of future Contingences, since there is nothing doth so much take off the edge of Discontent, and weaken it, as the continual consideration throughout the whole course of our Lives, that there is nothing but may befall us; as a Meditation on man's Frame; as on the condition of Life, and a Study to submit to it. This hath not that effect to make us always, but never melancholy; for he that considers the order of Nature, and the Vicissitudes of Life, and the Frailty of Mankind is not melancholy when he considers these things, but is then most principally employed in the exercise of Wisdom, for he reaps a double advantage; both that in the consideration of man's circumstances, he enjoyeth the proper Office of Philosophy; and in case of Adversity, he is supported by a threefold Consolation. First, that he hath long considered that such accidents might come; which consideration alone doth most weaken and allay all Afflictions. Then he cometh to learn, that all Trials common to men, should be born, as such, patiently. Lastly, that he perceiveth there is no Evil, but where is blame; but there is no blame, when that falls out, the Prevention of which, was not in man to warrant; for that sounding a retreat, which Epicurus enjoineth, when he calleth us off from looking upon our Evils, is null. For not to take notice, or to put out of memory, is not in our Power, when those things gore us, which we conceive to be Evil. They Tear, Fret, Spurgall, apply Torches for Torture, allow no breathing time. And you bid us to forgo what is against Nature; what remedy is by Nature given, would you wring away, that of a grief worn old? True, it is a slow Process, yet of great Efficacy which length and time do effect. You bid me consider the good, and forget the bad; you would say somewhat and worthy a great Philosopher, if you held those things to be good, which were most suitable to the Dignity of man.   

SECT. XVII. The true Remedy assigned.  
SHOULD Pythagoras now, or Socrates, or Plato say to me; Why are you cast down? or why do you fret? or why do you sink and render to Fortune, which may perhaps pinch and prick you; cannot, to be sure, overpower you? Great force there is in the Virtues; rouse up them, if they chance to be dormant. In the first place will present itself to you Fortitude; which will oblige you to take such courage, as to contemn and count as inconsiderable, all the chances of Humane Life. Temperance will come with her, which is also Moderation, and by me a little before called Frugality or Staidness, which will suffer you to do nothing basely, nothing lewdly. Now what is more base or lewd, than an Effeminate man? Nay Justice will not permit you to behave yourself in such sort; though she seem to have the least relation to this business, which yet will thus bespeak you; that you are on a double account injurious; both in that you covet what is none of your own; since being born Mortal, you aspire to the condition of the Immortal; and in that you take offence, to restore what you only borrowed: but what Apology will you make to Prudence, instructing you that Virtue is selfsufficient, not only to living Well, but also Happily; which if it depend on Foreign Accessions, and have not as its source from; so its resort to itself, and in the same Circle, comprising all its Pretensions, borrows nothing from abroad: I know no reason why it either should be thought worthy to be so much extolled in words, or so eagerly courted in Life. Epicurus, if you sound to me a chase after these Goods; I obey, pursue, follow yourself my Commander; nay further, I forget my Evils, and so much the easier, because I do not so much as put these Afflictions into the rank of things truly Evil. But you draw off my thoughts to Pleasures. Of what sort? Bodily ones, I suppose; or such as the Soul, in order to the Body, entertains by remembrance of them past, or hopes of others to come. Is there any thing else in the case? Do I rightly explain your Sense? For those of that Persuasion, are still wont to charge us, that we do not comprehend Epicurus, what he means: why this he means, and that paltry Greek old Zeno, the most subtle Disputant of all that Tribe, was wont, with great heat, and aloud in my hearing, at Athens, to argue, that the man is happy who enjoys present Pleasure, and hath a confidence that he shall enjoy the like, either through the whole, or a great part of his Life, uninterrupted by any Pain; or if he were disturbed by any, that if it were in Extremity, would be but short; or if it proved longer, would have a greater mixture of Joy than Evil: he that considered these things would be happy, especially if he were satisfied with the good things already enjoyed; and had no dreadful apprehensions of the Deity.  


(s) Old Zeno.] There are divers of the same name, as Zeno Cittieus the Stoic, also Zeno Sidonius here mentioned, the Epicurean; and, in Philo's judgement, the chief of them.   

(t) And had no dreadful apprehension of the Deity.] Superstition is joined with a dread of God, as a strict Avenger and inexorable. This partial apprehension should be set right, by a due consideration of the Divine Nature and Goodness, and not by discharging God of the Government of the World, with the Compliment of a Writ of Ease.     

SECT. XVIII. And verified in the Case of Thyestes, Aeetes; Telamonius.  
YOU have Epicurus' Scheam of Happiness drawn up in the words of Zeno, so that it is in vain to deny it. What now? can the Proposal and Contemplation of this Life, administer any relief either to Thyestes or Aeetes before mentioned; or to Telamonius chased from his Country, and living in Want and Banishment? upon whom this Admiration was made;  
Is this that Telamonius, late renowned and feared?  
Whose looks the wondering Greeks so much revered?  
Now if any one, as the same Poet saith, both Courage and Estate hath lost; a Cordial is to be sought from those ancient grave Philosophers, not from these Sensualists. For what do they call a Store of Goods? Grant them, that to be without Pain, is the chiefest Good; although that be not properly called Pleasure; but we cannot at once speak to all Questions. Is that the State to which we must be brought over, for the relief of our Sorrows? Allow what they would have, that Pain is the greatest Evil; is there any Consequence, that he who lies not under it, because he is not under Evil, must therefore be in Fruition of the greatest Good? Epicurus, why are we shy, and loath to confess that we speak of that Pleasure, which your own self, when you have brazed your Forehead, are wont to speak out? Are these your words or no? in that very Book which contains the System of your whole Doctrine, you say these words. (For I will perform the Office of a strict Interpreter, lest any one should think it a Fiction of my own.) In truth I am at a loss, what to apprehend for that good, abstracting from those delights which arise from the taste; abstracting also from those which are conveyed by the hearing of Musical Airs; abstracting likewise from those agreeable Impressions which are made on the Eyes by the sight of comely objects; or any other Pleasures which are raised through the whole man from any Sense whatever; nor can it truly be said, that the Joy of the mind, is only to be reckoned upon as good; for I have known the mind, upon that very account, transported with joy, upon hopes of all these things abovenamed, that Nature would come to enjoy them, and be freed from Pain. Now all this he saith in the very words, that any man may perceive what Pleasure Epicurus means. Then a little after, he saith, I have often enquired, of those that pass for wise men, what good they left remaining, after they had abstracted from these things, unless they would utter a parcel of insignificant Notions, and never yet could learn any thing; but if they shall fall a canting of Virtues and Perfections, they will, in effect, say nothing more, but the means whereby the abovesaid Pleasures may be compassed. What follows, is to the same purpose; nay, that whole Book which is of the chief good, is stuffed with such Sentences and such Expressions. Now would you exhort Telamonius, in the condition mentioned, to take to this course of Life, that so you might divert the Melancholy? or if you should see any of your Friends under great dejection of Spirit, would you set before him a Sturgeon, rather than a Dialogue of Socrates? would you invite him to hear the sound of the Organ, rather than the words of Plato? will you display before him, rich and gay Embroidery? put a Posy to his Nostrils? burn Odours? and will you bid him be crowned with Chaplets of Roses? But if you should go a little farther, than you will, to be sure, have wiped off all sorrow from him.  


(u) Telamonius chased from his Country.] Aegina the Kingdom of his Father Aeacus.   

(w) But if you should go a little farther.] A decent Abruption in recanting Pleasures, lest he should particularise in speaking out Obscentities, if you should procure him a Mistress.     

SECT. XIX. — and Andromache.  
EPICURUS, these things must be confessed by you, or else those other which I have alleged according to the express word, are to be expunged out of your Book, or the whole Book rather to be expunged; for it is all over made up of voluptuousness. The question, therefore, lies before us, how we should cure one of Melancholy, that speaks after this sort;  
My present Miseries reproach my birth;  
Exile and Poor to a great Kingdom born;  
Augments my want, and aggravates my scorn.  
What now must we clap to his mouth, a Cup of sweet'ned Liquor to still him from crying? or take any such course? Look now from another Play in the same Poet:  
A Princess once, Hector! thy help I need;  
Help her we must, for she implores aid.  
What Secure left, the Castle lost and Court?  
What safe retreat to Foreign Land or Port?  
My Country Altars, heaps of Stones, are made;  
And Sacred Temples in their Ashes laid.  
What State my ruin'd Palace once did bear,  
The Pictured Walls, and rich-grained Beams declare.  
Ye all know what follows, and particularly that,  
O Father! Country! Priam 's Palace!  
Temple with Gates fast barred and bolted!  
I saw thee, when by Phrygians guarded;  
With curious Cealing carved und vaulted,  
Gild richly, and inlaid with Ivory.  
O excellent Poet! however slighted by the Modern Songsters of idle Sonnets; he is sensible that all sudden and unexpected changes do more deeply afflict; therefore having extolled the King's Power, which to all appearance was established for ever; what doth he subjoin?  
All these I saw, in ashes lain;  
Priam by the proud Victor slain;  
Jove 's Sacred Altar Blood profane.  
The Verse is singularly well, being mournful both in Sense and Words and Tune; to put her out of this Melancholy, what course should we take? Seat her in a Downe-bed Couch, bring in a Minstrel, burn strong Perfumes, give her a Cup of Caudle, provide her too a Dish of Meat. Are these your good things, by which the sorest troubles of mind are to be removed? For you asserted, a little before, that you could not so much as apprehend any goods of other Nature; therefore Epicurus and I should be agreed, that the Soul is to be called off from Melancholy, to the Contemplation of good things, if we were but agreed what is good.  


(x) That speaks after this sort.] Cited from the Telamonius of Ennius.   

(y) From another Play in the same Poet.] The Andromache of Ennius.     

SECT. XX. Epicurus proved inconstant to his own Principles.  
SOME will object. How now? do you think Epicurus meant any such thing, or that his Doctrine was licentious? I think so? by no means. For I see many things spoken by him severely; many excellent well Therefore the Controversy is, as I have often said, about his Logic, not his Morals. Let him never so much undervalue those Pleasures which he lately magnified; yet I shall keep in memory, what he judgeth to be the chiefest good; for he not only put it in the simple term Pleasure, but hath explained what he meant. Taste, saith he, and the embracing of Bodies, and Plays, and Music, and beautiful Objects, with which the Eyes are entertained. Is this any Fiction of mine? Is it a Lie? I would fain be disproven; for what other Interest have I, but that the Truth may be discovered in every question? Ay, but he also saith, when Pain is once removed, Pleasure admits of no farther increase; and to be free from Pain, is the height of Pleasure. A few words, but three gross Absurdities: One is, that he contradicts himself; for but lately, having affirmed that he could not imagine any good, but whereby the Senses are, as it were, tickled with Pleasure; he now supposeth, that Freedom from Pain, is the height of Pleasure. Can he utter more palpable Contradictions? A second Absurdity is, that whereas in Nature there are three Conditions, one of Joy, another of Pain, a third neither of Joy nor Pain; he taketh the first and third for the same, and confounds Pleasure, with not being in Pain. A third Absurdity, common to him, with some other; that whereas Virtue is most desirable, and Philosophy was sought out for the acquiring of it; he hath separated the chief good from Virtue. Ay, but he commends Virtue, and that often. So did C. Gracchus all the while that he dealt forth great Largesles, and exhausted the Treasury, yet in words defend the Treasury. What tell you me of Words, when I see Actions? Piso surnamed the Frugal, always voted against the Bill for Corn-Tickets. When the Bill was passed into a Law, he that had been Consul came to receive his Dividend. Gracchus perceived Piso standing in the Assembly, and asks of him, in the Audience of the Roman People, with what consistency to himself, he could Plead the Privilege of that Law, the passing of which; he had by Speech dissuaded? I would not, Gracchus, saith he, it should be your Pleasure to divide my Goods among the People, man by man; but if you do it, I will put in for my share. Did not that grave and wise man sufficiently declare, that the public Revenue was squandered away by the Sempronian Law? Read the Orations of Gracchus, you will say he was an Advocate for the Treasury. Epicurus denys there can be any living pleasantly, without living virtuously. He denys that Fortune hath any Ascendent over a wise man. He preferreth a slender Diet before a sumptuous one. He denys there can be any time wherein a wise man is not also happy. All Notions worthy a Philosopher, but opposite to Pleasure. He doth not mean that Pleasure. Let him mean what Pleasure he will, to be sure he means that which hath no share in Virtue. Well, if we do not understand Pleasure, do we not Pain neither? I deny then, that it is consistent with him, who measures the greatness of Evil by Pain, to make any mention of Virtue.   

CHAP. XXI. The stoutness of the Epicureans taken down.  
YET the Epicureans complain, Good Fellows as they are (for I know no sort of People less dangerous) that I am still picking Quarrels with Epicurus. I warrant the Competition is about some place of Trust or Honour. To my judgement the chief good is in the Soul; to his in the Body, I place it in Virtue, he in Pleasure. Now they fall to blows; nay, call the Town to help them; and many there be, that run in at their cry. On the contrary, I am the man that own no concern either way; am ready to be concluded by what they determine; for what great business is it? A Debate about the Punic War? yet in a Council of War about that, when M. Cato was of one opinion, and L. Lentulus of another, it never came to any heats. These are too passionate, especially considering that no very honourable Opinion is maintained by them; since in the Defence of it, they durst not speak in the Senate, nor in the Assembly of the People; not to the Army, nor before the Censors. But I shall have occasion to deal with them elsewhere; yet with this intention, not to make any formal Contest. I shall readily submit to whosoever speak true; only I shall mind them, though it should be never so true, that a wise man acts always in subserviency to his Body; or, to word it more inoffensively, doth nothing but what may turn to advantage, maketh his own Interest the ultimate end and measure of all his Actions; yet because these Principles are not plausible, that they would keep their Joy to themselves, but forbear to utter lofty words.   

SECT. XXII. The judgement of the Cyrenian Sect, how far allowable.  
THE opinion of the Cyrenaicks remains to be discussed; these think that Discontent than ariseth, when any Affliction falls upon us unawares; there is much in that, as I said above; and I know Chrysippus is of the mind, that what is not foreseen, cometh with the greater Blow; yet this is not all. However an undiscovered onset of Enemies, puts into somewhat more Confusion, than what is expected; and a sudden Tempest at Sea gives greater Terror to those that are Sailing, than that which was sometime foreseen; and most such Instances have like Effects: yet when one looks narrowly into the Nature of unexpected Contingencies, he shall find nothing else, but that all sudden things seem greater; and that for two Reasons: First, because space is not left of considering how great the accidents are; and then because there seems to have been a possibility of Prevention, had it been foreseen, the evil createth the sharper remorse, as if it had been incurred by some fault of our own. That this is so, time demonstrates; that Process whereof doth give such ease, that though the Evils remain the same, yet the Trouble is assuaged, and, in the most, taken quite away. Many Carthaginians lived in Bondage at Rome; Macedonians when King Perses was made Captive. I myself also, when young, saw, in Peloponnesus, some Corinthians; these could have taken up that Lamentation out of the Andromache.  All these I saw— 
But perhaps too, they had already Sung it over so often, as to leave doing it any more; for such was their Look, Language, all their other motion, and presence that one would have taken them for Argives, or Sicyonians: and the Ruins, on a sudden beheld at Corinth, more affected me, than the Corinthians themselves; for long consideration through tract of time, had cicatriz'd their Souls. We have read a Book of Clitomachus, which he sent to his Captive Countrymen, to comfort them upon the rasing of Carthage; in that is a Disputation of Carneades written, which he saith he put down into his Notebook; upon this Thesis, that it was the Respondents opinion, that a wise man would be discontented at the Captivity of his Country. What Carneades disputed on the contrary; is written; so great a Remedy therefore, of the present distress, is applied by the Philosopher, as would not have been requisite, when it had been grown old: for had the same Book been sent some years after to them in Bondage, it would not have been administered to their Wounds but Scars. For grief diminisheth by a soft and gentle progess, not that the matter is wont to receive any change, or can admit it; but use teacheth that Lesson which Reason ought, that those things in reality are lesser, which to appearance were greater.  

(a) Clitomachus.] A Carthaginian, who at forty years of Age, came to Athens, Carneades being Professor in the Academy of the Platonics; him he heard, and afterwards succeeded in that Chair; being well ●●●s'd in the Stoic, Peripatetic, and Academic Schemes.    

SECT. XXIII. Forecast of possible Calamities is needful.  
WHAT need, therefore, is there of Reason, will some say, or of any Argument at all of Comfort, such as we are wont to use when we would abate the grief of those that are greatly dejected? for this is obvious to lay before them, that nothing should be thought unexpected. But how will he bear his affliction more patiently, who knows that there is a necessity for such accidents to befall frail men? for this same Language deducts nothing from the Sum of ill; only acquaints us, that nothing is befallen us, which should not have been expected. Nor yet is this sort of Address wholly ineffectual in comforting; but whether it have the most efficacy, again I cannot say: therefore these unexpected accidents are not so considerable, as that the whole trouble should arise from thence. Perhaps they give the greater Blow; yet have not that effect to make Accidents seem greater, because they are new, but because they are sudden. Therefore there is a twofold Method of finding out Truth; nor in those things only which seem evil, but in those also which pass for good; for either we inquire of the Nature of the thing itself, of what kind it is, and how great; as sometimes concerning Poverty, whose burden we alleviate by recounting How small and few things they are which Nature craveth; or else we pass our discourse over from the subtlety of Arguing, to A●●●gation of Examples. Here Socrates is produced▪ here Diogenes; here that Passage of Caecilius.  A Grey Coat often Wisdom may conceal. 
For whereas Poverty hath still one and the same Force, what reason can be alleged, why it should have been tolerable to C. Fabricius; others say they cannot sustain it; Therefore that method of comforting, which teacheth Accidents to be common to men, is like this second sort of Arguments; for such Disputation not only containeth this, to lead us into the knowledge of man's Nature; but further implieth, that those things are in themselves tolerable, which others have born, and do bear.  

(b) Tolerable to C. Fabricius.] He was General of the Romans, his whole Cupboard of Plate was a Salt, and Boul for Sacrifice, which yet stood on a Horn Foot. He refused a great Sum of Gold, presented him by the Samnian Ambassadors; and returned his excuse to Pyrrhus, offering him to be second in the Kingdom of Epirus. His Daughters, at their Marriage, received a Portion from the Public Treasury.    

SECT. XXIV. The use of Precedents.  
THE question is about Poverty, many Patient Poor men are instanced in. About despising Honour, many that have fallen into disgrace are produced, and, for that very reason more happy: And particularly the Life of those is commended, who have preferred Privacy and Retirement, before Pomp and Business. Nor is that Stanza of the most potent King, passed by in silence, who commends an old man, and declares him happy, because he should pass to his Grave ignoble and inglorious. In like manner, losses of Children, taken quietly, are extolled by producing instances, and thereby the Sorrows of them who exceed their due bounds assuaged; so the persevering Patience of others, causeth the Accidents to seem much less, than what they were before reputed to have been. Thus upon consideration, by degrees it appears, how much opinion hath imposed upon us: Now this the abovementioned Telamonius declareth, I knew, when I begot them— and Theseus, On future troubles still I thought;— and Anaxagoras, I knew that I begot a Mortal. For all these Persons, by long consideration upon the Circumstances of Humane Life, understood that they were not to be dreaded, after the rate of vulgar Apprehensions; and in truth, as to my judgement, those who have long before considered, and those whom length of time cureth, seem to have been wrought upon, in a manner, by one and the same cause; only that a Principle of Reason healeth the former; Nature the latter; when that cometh to be understood, wherein the Remedy consists, that the evil, which was conceived to have been excessive, is not yet so great, as to cast down a state of happiness. This therefore is consequent, that through want of consideration, the wound is greater; but what they imagine, doth not follow, that when equal misfortunes befall different Persons, he only is afflicted, by the mischance, on whom it fell unexpected; therefore some in distress, when they have been minded, that we came into the World upon those terms, that no man can pass the whole course of Life, without his share of suffering, are said to have been the more troubled.  

(c) That Stanza of the most potent King.] Agamemnon in Euripides, his Iphigenia in Aulis, bespeaks an old Countryman.  
Father, I envy thy content;  
Who e'er safe, private life hath spent,  
I envy much his happiness,  
But Potentates I envy less.    

SECT. XXV. The Cavil of Carneades examined.  
WHereupon Carneades, as I find our Friend Antiochus Record of him, was wont to blame Chrysippus for quoting, as some wise passage, that Verse of Euripides.  
No Mortal is advanced above all Pain;  
But buries Children, breeds up some again:  
Then dies himself; yet their deceased Friend,  
Vain Mourners to the Grave with Pomp attend.  
Dust will to Dust; one Law is made for all;  
Life, like ripe Corn, must by the Sickle fall.  
He denied that Arguments of this sort, had any influence at all to the abating Sorrow: for, said he, that is the very matter of our grief, to be caught in such a cruel necessity; and a Discourse in rehearsal of other men's Sufferings, only to be suited to the Consolation of ill-natured Persons. But I am clear of a differing judgement, for both the necessity of conforming to that condition, whereunto we were ordained, doth withhold us from fight, as it were, against God, and minds us that we are but men. Which consideration doth greatly allay Sorrow; and the recounting Examples is not produced to give content to the malicious, but to inform the judgement of him that is in trouble, that he is well able to bear what he seeth many have born before him, with Moderation and Patience: for they are to be stayed up by all methods, who are sinking, and cannot hold together through excess of grief. Chrysippus was wont to make the allusion; as if the Greek word importing Sorrow, employed in the very Term, a Solution of the whole man. This evil Humour may be utterly expelled, by laying open, as I said in the beginning, the cause of Discontent: Now this is no other than an opinion and judgement of some great evil instant and pressing; therefore also bodily Pain, though the Fit be never so sharp, yet is sustained by entertaining probable Hopes of Ease: and a Life led with Reputation and Honour, carrieth along with it such strong Consolation, as that no Affliction can touch those who so lived; or else Troubles make but a very slight impression on their Souls.  

(d) That Verse of Euripides.] They are the words of Amphiarchus, comforting the Mother of Archemorus, for the loss of her Son.    

SECT. XXVI. The mistake, that trouble of mind is a Duty.  
BUT over and above the opinion, that our evil is great, when a further opinion falls in, that we ought, that we do well; that it is our duty to be disquieted at any misfortune, then ariseth that violent Storm of excessive Sorrow. From this opinion come those divers and detestable sorts of Mourning, neglects of being trimmed, smiting on the Breast, Thighs, and Head. Hence Agamemnon in Homer, and no less in Attius is personated.  Tearing for grief, at times his Looks unshorn. 
Which occasioned this ingenuous Saying of Bion, that sure the King was out of his Wits, to pull his Hair up by the Roots, as though melancholy were to be abated by a bald Pate; but they do all these things out of a conceit that they should be so done. Upon the same ground also, doth Aeschines inveigh against Demosthenes, because he offered Sacrifice a Seven-night after his Daughter's Death. But in how Rhetorical strains? how copiously? what strong lines doth he compile? what words dart forth? that one would conclude a Rhetorician may take upon him as much as he pleaseth. Which Liberty none could allow, unless they had this Principle engrafted in their Souls, that all good men ought to be most grievously afflicted at the death of their Relations. From hence doth it proceed, that in troubles of mind, some affect solitary Walks, as Homer of Bellerophon.  
Who o'er th' Aleian Deserts strayed alone,  
Pensive, and sought for Paths to men unknown.  
Niobe is feigned to have been turned into Stone; I suppose, for her eternal silence in Sorrow. Hecuba on the other side, for the bitterness of her Spirit and outrage, they suppose feigned to have been transformed into a Bitch. Others again there are, who in their Distresses, often delight to vent their Complaints in Soliloquies; as that Nurse in Ennius.  
Now doth my Passion prompt me to relate,  
To Heaven and Earth, Medea's sad Estate.   

SECT. XXVII. Farther illustrated.  
ALL this do men in Affliction, and conceive it to be just, proper, and what ought to be done in such Circumstances; and it is no small Evidence, that this cometh from a pretended Conscience of Duty, in that such as mourn in State, if they chance to let any Action escape that looks like Civility, or speak a cheerful word, they presently recompose themselves to a disconsolate Garb, and confess their fault in having transgressed the Ceremony of Mourning. Nay, Mothers and Tutors are wont to check their Children, and that not only by chiding, but also beating them, if they say or do any pleasant thing whilst the Family is in Mourning; they make them cry, what? when the time of second and less strict Mourning is come; and it is found by experience, that no advantage ariseth from Melancholy, doth it not declare that the whole business was voluntary and upon choice. What meaneth the Self-Tormentor in Terence?  
I thus resolved in misery to share,  
Chremes, would my Sons wrong in part repair.  
He resolves to be miserable. Now doth any one resolve upon any thing against his Will?  I judge I should deserve the worst of ills. 
He judges he should deserve the worst of Punishments, unless he be miserable; you see plainly that it is an Evil of conceit, and not in its own Nature. What and if the very Object forbids Lamentation; as in Homer the daily Slaughters and great Carnage avail to Moderation in grief; in whom this Passage is found.  
Many before our Eyes are daily slain,  
So that of Sorrow none can respite gain.  
Bury we then our dead, and ne'er repine,  
But all our Mourning to one day confine.  
Therefore it is in our Power to abandon Grief at our pleasure, in compliance with our occasions. Now since the matter is in our Power, is there any occasion of such moment to be complied with, as a present riddance of Discontent? It was observed that those who saw Cn. Pompey assassined, being put in fear for their own Lives, at that most deplorable and dismal Spectacle, because they saw themselves surrounded with the Enemy's Fleet, did at that time nothing else but hearten the Rowers, and further their escape; but when they had gained Tide, than began to break out into Grief and Lamentations: Fear therefore could give time of trouble to them; and cannot Reason and true Wisdom repel it?   

SECT. XXVIII. Rectified by consideration that our Sorrow availeth nothing.  
NOW what can be of more importance to the laying down Sorrow, than a Sense that there is no advantage by it; and that it is admitted upon a pure mistake? And if it can be laid down, it can also not be admitted. It must therefore be confessed, that Discontent is admitted by Will, and upon Choice. Now this is evident by their Patience, who having often gone through many Adventures, bear more patiently whatever befalls them, and suppose they are hardened against all Sense of Fortune; as he in Euripides.  
Had this day first arisen in a Cloud,  
Had I not long the dangerous Ocean Ploughed;  
'Cause were of Grief; as when shy Colts admit  
Into their tender mouths, the kerbed Bit.  
Habit of Woes, now makes me dedolent.  
Since then the being tired out with Miseries, alleviates our Sorrows, it must necessarily be perceived, that the object of our Sufferings, is not the real Cause and Fountain of our Grief; the greatest Philosophers, who yet have not attained to perfect Wisdom, do they not understand that they are under the greatest Evil? for they want Wisdom: Nor is there any greater Evil, than want of Wisdom; yet they do not Mourn: Why so? because Evils of this sort have not annexed to them, that it is fit and reasonable, our Duty to be troubled for ones not being wise; which yet we do annex to that trouble of mind, which implys Mourning, and is the greatest of all. Therefore Aristotle accusing the Ancient Philosophers, who thought that Philosophy, through their Wits, was perfected; saith, They were either great Fools, or very Vain; but that he saw, within few years, there was made a great Accession; so that in short time it would come to be complete. Theophrastus' also lying on his Deathbed, is said to have accused Nature, for giving Rooks and Ravens a long life, who have no occasion for it; when men, whom it most imported, were so short-lived, whose Age, if it might have been of a longer Duration, the Consequence would have been, that through the Compliment of all Arts, men's life would have been polished in every part of Learning. Therefore he complained that he must be taken away as soon as he had but begun to have sight of this. What? among the other Philosophers, do not the best and gravest, confess their ignorance in many things? and that after the greatest proficiency, they have still more to learn? and yet are not discontented at the Sense of that Folly which remaineth in them, though nothing be more Evil; for there is no opinion mingled of an officious Grief. What say we of them, who do not think it suitable for men to mourn? Such was Q. Maximus at the burial of his Son, a man that had borne the Consulship. L. Paulus after the loss of two Sons within few days. Such M. Cato at the death of his Son Praetor Elect. Such the rest whom we have collected in our Book of Consolation. What else pacified them, but only a Sense that Sorrow and Lamentation were not proper for men? Therefore, what some having taken for Duty, are wont to abandon themselves to Melancholy; that these men judging dishonourable, have repelled Sorrow; from whence is evident, that Discontent is not in the Nature of the thing, but from our own opinion.  


(e) Do they not understand that they are under the greatest Evil?] Tully doth not speak it positively, that imperfection is the greatest Evil: but by way of Interrogation, as according to the Stoical Paradox, doubtless insincerity is worse; and it is hard to determine, that he who hath not reached the Top in gradual attainments, must therefore lie at the bottom; but if the question had been asked in general, why men are not so much affected with the wants of their Soul, as Bodily, or outward Damages; the Resolution had been obvious; because we cannot want or desire what we do not know; therefore he makes instance in the greatest Philosophers: Do they not understand? Some active dissatisfaction they had in their present Estate, which put them upon further pursuit after Wisdom; but they were still much under the Power of an intellectual Lithargy. Deficiency in Morals, was less than their burden, because they were unacquainted with the indispensable Sanction of the Divine Law. Had not those Direction, Motives, and Assistances to work in them a Spiritual Sorrow, which might engage them to be restless, till they had obtained such degrees of integrity, as this our frail condition admits.   

(f) Rooks and Ravens.] It is a fabulous Tradition from Hesiod; but Aristotle affirms, no other Creature lives longer than Man, but the Elephant.   

(g) Who do not think it suitable for men to mourn. It hath been observed that the old Roman Laws prescribe Women a just time of Mourning, are silent of Men; whence hath also been inferred, that they looked upon Mourning as not very suitable for them.     

SECT. XXIX. That our Sorrows are by misapprehensions, aggravated beyond their own Natures.  
ON the opposite part these things are alleged: Who is so senseless as to mourn on his own Choice? Nature brings Grief; which, say they, your Crantor owns, must be given way to; for it pusheth on, and follows hard, nor can be any ways resisted; therefore that Oileus in Sophocles, who had but a little before comforted Telamonius upon the death of his Ajax, when he came to hear of his own, broke forth into Passion; upon whose change of mind, is this said.  
None to such perfect Wisdom can pretend,  
Having, with Counsel, stayed his sinking Friend;  
But that he, when inconstant Fortune's course;  
Shall, against his concerns, direct his Force;  
To the surprising Blow renders his Wits;  
All his grave Rules, and sage Advice forgets.  
They who dispute thus, endeavour to prove that Nature can be no ways resisted; yet they confess that greater Resentments are assumed than Nature imposeth. What madness is it, therefore, for us to exact the same of others? But there are several Causes of admitting grief. First, that opinion of Evil, upon the sight of which, and a persuasion that it is such, trouble of the mind is a necessary consequent. Then again, men suppose they gratify the Dead, the more heavily they Mourn for them. Over and above this, there is another Superstition, like that of Women; for men think they shall more easily, atone the Deity, if under the stroke of Divine Displeasure, they profess themselves afflicted and laid prostrate. But many do not perceive how incoherent these things are, for they praise those who die patiently; but think those worthy of blame, who bear with patience another's death. As though it were possible, what is wont to pass for Compliment among Lovers; that any one could love another better than himself. It is very fair, and, if you examine it well, just and proper to love those that aught to be dearest to us, as well as ourselves; but to do it better, is impracticable. It is not so much as to be looked for in Friendship, that my Friend should love me more than himself; I him, than myself. A Confusion of life, and all Duties would thereupon follow.  


(h) Your Crantor.] An eminent Academician; and therefore Tully gives the Objection its full weight, using their own Terms, a Figure called Mimesis.   

ay Of his own.] Ajax the Son of Oileus, smitten with a Thunderbolt, and wracked. Ajax the Son of Telamonius was distracted, and fell upon his own Sword.   

(k) Afflicted and laid prostrate.] To be humbled under the correcting hand of God, is the necessary Tribute of our Obedience; but to fret and repine, to torment ourselves, to despond, neither answers the end of his Paternal Correction, nor commends our Sense of the Divine goodness; and cannot be a reasonable Service.   

(l) A Confusion of Life, and all Duties.] Natural Self-love, is the Standard of all Offices, of mutual Charity, and ground of distributive Justice; so that if every man be false to himself, where shall be had that Bank of Faith, from whence any may be true to another? Excess of Love renders us fond, as the defect unkind; in both we transgress the bounds of Charity and Discretion.     

SECT. XXX. The Motives of Consolation, too often prove ineffectual, proceeds not from any defect in them, but our own indisposition.  
BUT of this Point elsewhere; it serves our present turn that we do not impute our Misery to the loss of our Friends, lest we be thought to love them more than they would have us, if they be sensible, to be sure, more than we do ourselves; for as to what they say, that very many find no ease upon Suggestions of Comfort; and that the Comforters themselves confess they are miserable, when the tide of Fortune turns against them; both Arguments are answerable; for those are not natural Defaults, but personal Failures. Now a man may dilate very copiously in an Harangue against Folly; for both those who are not eased, invite others to be miserable; and they who deport themselves under troubles, otherwise than they have advised others to do under theirs, are not more culpable than almost the generality, who being Covetous, reprove the Covetous; and being vainglorious themselves, those that are desirous of vainglory. For it is the property of Folly, to look upon other men's Failings, and to forget their own. But clearly this is the greatest experiment, since it is plain, that Mourning is removed by long continuance; that this Power is not in the length of time, but in long consideration; for if the Suffering be the same, and man the same; how can there be any change in the Grief, if there be no change neither in the Object, nor the Subject of it. Therefore a long consideration that there is no Evil in the misfortune cureth the Grief, not the bare length of time. Here they come in with their Moderations, which if they be Natural, what need is there of Verbal Consolation? Nature itself will prefix bounds; but if they subsist in conceit only, let that whole conceit be removed. I suppose sufficient hath been said, that Discontent is an opinion of a present Evil; in which opinion is contained, that we ought to admit Discontent. To this Definition, is by Zeno well added, that this opinion of present Evil must be fresh; but he interprets this term in such sort, that he doth not only mean that to be fresh, which fell out lately; but as long as there is in that conceited Evil, any force or vigour, and is still green, so long it may be termed fresh. As that Artemisia, the Consort of Mausolus' King of Caria, who built the noble Sepulchre at Halicarnassus; as long as she lived, lived in Mourning, and consumed with grief, languished to death. She had that opinion daily fresh, which is then not to be called fresh, when it is withered with Age.  

(m) Here they come in with their Moderations.] The Peripatetics, he means, who do not suppress, but order the Passions.    

SECT. XXXI. Directions for Comforters.  
THESE then, are the parts of Comforters, wholly to remove trouble of mind, or to abate the greatest part of it, or to stop it, and not suffer it to spread farther, or to transfer it to other occasions. Some think it to be the only Office of a Comforter, to persuade that the Affliction is not at all Evil, as Cleanthes holds. Some that it is no great Evil, as the Peripatetics. Some divert the mind from thoughts of Evils, to think of its good things, as Epicurus. Some suppose it enough to discover, that nothing unexpected, nothing Evil is befallen them. But Chrysippus thinks that to be the principal Point, in comforting, to undeceive the Mourner, if he thinks he discharges his bounden Duty in afflicting himself. Some also there are, who collect all these Topics of comforting, for one is wrought upon by one Motive, and another by another; as we have heaped up in a manner, all Arguments, into our single Treatise of Consolation; for my Soul was then big with Sorrow, and all Methods of Cure were to be practised. But the Season is to be observed, no less in Distempers of the Soul, than Body. As that Prometheus of Aeschylus, to whom when it had been said;  
Prometheus, this I need not you assure,  
Who better know, Reason can Passion cure.  
Replied,  
If one with timely Medicines it assuage,  
Nor with rough hands the angry wound enrage.  

(n) The Parts of Comforters.] Condoling and Comforting have been always held a Civil or Religious Duty. The Jews in their Common-Prayer Book, have an Office of Consolation.    

SECT. XXXII. The Method.  
THerefore in Addresses of Comfort, the first Application must be, to inform that there is no Evil, or but a very small one in the Affliction. A second, to argue from the common condition of Life, and in especial, from that of the Mourners, if it have in it any peculiar Merit to moderate his grief. The Third, how it is the highest Folly imaginable, for one to pine and fret himself away to no purpose, when he understands there cometh no advantage by it; for Cleanthes comforts the wise man who stands in no need of comfort; because if you have persuaded one in Sorrow, that nothing is Evil, but what is dishonest; you do not take away from him his Sorrow, but his Folly; but that is no proper time for teaching. And yet Cleanthes doth not seem to me rightly to have considered this case, that grief may possibly be sometimes admitted upon that, which he himself confesseth to be the greatest Evil. For what shall we say, when Socrates had persuaded Alcibiades, as we have by Tradition, that he had not the worth of a man in him, and that there was no difference between Alcibiades the Highborn Prince, and any Porter? Now when Alcibiades was greatly troubled at this, and with tears begged of Socrates, that he would instruct him in Virtue, and rescue him in Folly; what shall we say, Cleanthes? will you say that there was no Evil in that thing which afflicted Alcibiades? what think we of those words of Lyco? who extenuating Discontent, saith, it is raised upon Sufferings in Estate or Body, not Evils of the mind. What now? that which Alcibiades grieved for, was it not for the Evils and Vices of his Soul? As to the Consolation of Epicurus, enough hath been said before.   

SECT. XXXIII. That it is a Duty not to be swallowed up of Grief.  
NEither is that Motive of the strongest, although it is both usual, and oftentimes to good effect: You are not the only Sufferer in this sort. This, as I say, is effectual, but not always, nor with all, for some reject it: but it imports how it is applied, for we must urge instances, how particular men have wisely born their Sufferings, not what they have suffered. That of Chrysippus is of greatest strength, as to its truth, but difficult as to the time of Sorrow. It is a great task to prove to a Mourner, that he Mourns out of judgement, and a conceit that he ought so to do. Thereupon, as in Causes, we do not always make the same state, (for so we call the several sorts of Controversies,) but suit them to the Season, to the Nature of the Cause, and to the Person, so in asswaging Sorrow. For we must discern what method of Cure each Person is capable of; but I know not how our Discourse hath digressed from the matter proposed; for your question proceeds about a wise man, in whose judgement either there can be no Evil, where there is no Dishonesty; or so small an Evil, that it is swallowed up of Wisdom, so that it can scarce appear. One who adds no imaginary Troubles, nor improves his Discontent, nor judgeth it to be right, to give himself the most grievous Torture, and to fret to Death; than which, nothing can be more wrong. Yet the sequel hath informed us, to my apprehension, although it were not the direct and proper question at this time, that there is no Evil, but that which may be called Dishonesty; so that we may withal see, whatever Evil there is in Discontent, it is not Natural, but contracted by our voluntary judgement, and mistake in opinion. Now that sort of trouble of mind, hath been handled by us, which is greatest of all; so that upon the removal of it, we judged the Remedies of the rest, not of difficult enquiry.   

SECT. XXXIV. A Passage to the Remedies of Disquiet, arising from the particular Passions.  
FOR there are certain Common places which are said about Poverty, about an inambitious and obscure Life; and severally certain Essays upon Banishment, upon the Captivity of our Country, upon Bondage, upon Maims, upon Blindness, and upon every other Misfortune, to which the name of Calamity is appliable: The Greeks divide these into distinct Disputations, and separate Tracts: For they lack work, although their Disputations are full of delight; and yet as Physicians in carrying on the Cure of the whole Body, apply Remedies to the least affected part: So Philosophy having taken away trouble of mind in general; yet if any Error ariseth from Particulars, if Poverty bites, if Disgrace pinches, if Banishment casts us under a Cloud, or if any of the abovementioned Calamities befall us: although every Affliction hath its proper Consolation; to which you shall hear discoursed when you please; but still we must recur to the same Springhead, that all Discontent is stranger to a wise man, because it is idle; because it is admitted to no purpose; because it ariseth not from Nature, but Judgement, but Conceit, but a kind of drawing ourselves on to Grieve, after we have determined that it is our duty so to do. Remove this which is wholly depending on our Will, and all that fretful Discontent will be taken away; yet some Gripes and Resentments will remain in the Mind. Let them call this Natural, if they please; so the name of Discontent be forborn; a name grievous, vexatious, deadly, which can by no means be; and, as I may say, dwell with Wisdom. But how many, and how bitter are the Suckers of Discontent, which must all be plucked up; when the Body of it is felled down; and if need shall require, at several times; for we abound in this leisure, such as it is. But the Form of all Passions is one, the Names divers; for both Envy is a Passion, and Emulation, and Detraction, and Pity, Anxiety, Mourning, Fretting, Melancholy, Lamentation, Solicitude, Grief, Uneasiness, Vexation, Desperation; all these the Stoics define; and the words which Irehearsed, have several Notions; and do not, as they seem, signify the same things, but differ somewhat, which perhaps we shall treat of elsewhere. These are the Fibres and Tendrels of the Suckers, first mentioned; which must be searched out and torn asunder, that not one of them may ever shoot up. A great and difficult Work; who denys it? But what is there excellent, which is not also hard? yet Philosophy professeth to effect it, would we but admit its Cure. Now thus much for this Point; the rest shall be ready for you as often as you will, both at this, and any other place.  

(o) For we abound in this leisure, such as it is.] Spoken with some regret, for his being out of Practice, Trust, and honourable Employment.     

The Government of the Passions. The Prologue Sect. 1, 2, 3.  
Book IU.  

SECT. 1. The Ancient Romans, probably not Strangers to Polite Learning, because Borderers upon Greece the Great.  
AS in many other Instances, most worthy Brutus, I am wont to admire the Parts and Perfections of our Countrymen, so especially in these Studies which they have but of very late time regarded, and brought over from Greece to this State. For whereas from the first Foundation of the City, Divination, Ceremonies, Common-Councils, Appeals, Court of Senators, trained-bands of Horse and Foot, the whole order of the Militia, were, from a Wisdom almost more than Humane, established upon the Regal Constitutions, and some of them upon their Laws; so when the Commonwealth was delivered from the Oppression of Tyranny, an admirable advance, and incredible career was made towards all excellency. Now this is not the proper place to dilate upon the Customs and Ordinances of our Ancestors, upon the Discipline and Temper of our Government; this hath been with some diligence, treated of by us elsewhere; but especially in those six Books which we have written of a Commonwealth. At the present, when I consider the Study of Arts and Sciences, I meet with many Circumstances whereupon to frame an opinion, that they also were imported hither from abroad, nor invited only, but followed also, and cherished; for they had almost in sight, Pythagoras, a man excellent and renowned for Wisdom, who was in Italy at the very time when L. Brutus the noble Founder of your honourable Family, set his Country at Liberty. Now the Learning of Pythagoras spreading far and near, seems to me to have reached even to this State. This is probable to conjecture; so may it be traced by some signs. For who can imagine, when there flourished In Italy, Greece which was called the Great, having very large and powerful States; and the renown of Pythagoras first, and then of the Pythagoreans, was so great in them, that our Countrymen should stop their Ears against their most learned Discourses. Nay, I suppose it was from the admiration of the Pythagoreans, that King Numa was reputed by those of later Ages, to have been a Pythagorean; for they knowing the Discipline and Rules of Pythagoras; and having received from their Forefathers, the Equity and Wisdom of that King; but being ignorant of Chronology, to adjust the Times and Ages proper to each one, by reason of the great Antiquity, thought that he who so much excelled in Wisdom, was the Auditor of Pythagoras.  

(p) An admirable advance.] Spoken like a Commonwealths-man; but how got the rich Lampis an Estate? A small one, saith he, in a great time; and a great one in a small time.    

SECT. II. From their skill in Music, Poetry, and Oratory.  
NOW thus much for conjecture; as for the steps of Pythagoreans, although many may be traced, yet we shall content ourselves with a few, because that is not the proper enquiry on this occasion. For whereas those Philosophers are said to have delivered some Symbolical Precepts in Verse; and to have relaxed their minds with suitable Notes of Music from a serious intention of thought to a stayed composure. Cato, a most grave Author, said in his Book of origen's, that this was the Custom at Feasts among the old Romans, that as they sat at Table, they Sung, in order to the sound of the Pipe, the Praises and Achievements of renowned Persons; from whence it is manifest, both that Songs were composed to Tunes and Verses; which thing the twelve Tables farther declare, that Verse was so early in use, in that they make a Prohibition, that it should not be made to defame another; this also is some Argument of Learning in those days, that Music plays before the Cushions of the Gods, and the Feasts of the Magistrates, which was a Property of that Education, whereof I am now speaking. In my judgement that Verse of Appius the Blind, which Panaetius much commends in an Epistle to Q. Tubero, resembleth the Pythagoreans. There are many things more in our Constitutions derived from them, which I pass by, lest we should be thought to have harrowed from others, what we have supposed to have invented ourselves; but to reduce our Discourse to the Point in hand. In how short a time, how many and how great Poets have arisen? and what Orators? that it may easily appear, that our Countrymen could have attained to any thing, whensoever they did but set their minds to go about it: But as for other Studies, we shall speak to them elsewhere, if occasion require, and have already often done it.  

(q) Qu. Tubero.] Quintus Aelius Tubero was a great Lawyer, Logician, and skilled in the Stoic Philosophy.    

SECT. III. That Philosophy was of later date with them.  
THE Study of Wisdom must have been ancient among our Countrymen; yet I do not find whom I could instance in before the Age of Laelius and Scipio. When these were young men, I see that Diogenes the Stoic, and Carneades the Academic, were sent Ambassadors from the Athenians to the Senate; these men not having been employed before in any State-Affairs, and being the one a Cyrenian, the other a Babylonian, would certainly never have been taken off from their Sedentary Life and Philosophical Disputations, to be chosen to that Ministry, had not there been in those very times, in some of the chief Nobility, a studiousness after Learning. These having committed to writing other Matters, some the Civil Law, others their own Orations, others the Monuments of their Ancestors, did express the noblest of all Arts, the Doctrine of well living, rather in their Conversation, than writing. Therefore there are scarce any, or very few Treatises in Latin, about this true and excellent Philosophy, which deriving from Socrates, hath still continued in the Peripatetics and Stoics, who say the same thing in other Terms, whilst the Academics moderated in their Controversies, whether it were by reason of the importance of their Affairs, and their continual employment, or because they thought the Subject could not be rendered agreeable to the illiterate Vulgar. So it was, whilst they forbore writing, C. Amafinius became an Author, whose Books being once published, the Multitude was so wrought upon, that they flocked in especially to that Sect; whither it were because the Doctrine is so exceeding easy, or because they were allured with the soft Charms of Pleasure; or yet, because nothing better was preferred, they held fast what they had. Now, after Amafinius, many zealous Promoters of the same way, writ many pieces, so that they filled all Italy; and what is the greatest Argument, that there is no solidity in their Doctrine, its being easily committed to memory, and acceptable to the ignorant; this they count the strength of their Party.  


(r) I see that Diogenes the Stoic, and Carneades the Academic.] During the interval of the second and third Punic War, when M. Cato flourished at the Bar, and Plautus was Laureate on the Roman Stage, upon this occasion came the Famous Embassy here mentioned. The Athenians having been exhausted with a Macedonian War, plundered Oropus. The Oropians fly for relief to the Protection of the Roman Senate. These commit the cognisance of the whole Cause to the Sicyonians, their Allies who should impose a Fine on the Delinquents. The Atbenians refused to give an appearance, but were amerced 500 Talents. Hereupon they sent three Philosophers Ambassadors to Rome, to obtain from the Senate a release of the Fine imposed. Besides Diogenes the Stoic, and Catneades the Academic, there came Critolaus the Peripatetic. These Personages, every one very eminent in his way, held severally public Disputations in the most remarkable places of Rome, to the great Admiration of their Auditors. The effect of their Embassy was, that they got four hundred Talents of the Fine abated, and the remaining hundred was never levied.   

(s) C. Amafinius.] He translated some pieces of Epicurus into dull Latin.     

SECT. IV. The Position. That it is probable that a wise man is not free from all Passion.  
BUT let every man maintain what is his Sense, for judgements are free; we shall adhere to our old Resolution, not to be tied up to the Impositions of any one Sect, to which we must yield our necessary assent in Philosophy; but shall always inquire after what hath most of probability in every Proposition; which, as we have done often elsewhere, so did we lately, with great diligence, in our Seat at Tusculum. Having therefore laid down the Disputes of three days, I shall couch the fourth in this Book. For so soon as we were come down into the lower walk, as we had done the former days, the matter proceeded thus.  M. 
Speak any one that hath a mind, what Subject he would have disputed upon.  S. 
I am not of the opinion that a wise man can be free from all Passions of the mind.  M. 
That he is from Discontent, you were of the opinion, upon yesterday Dispute; unless perhaps you assented out of complaisance.  S. 
No, in truth, for your Discourse satisfied me extremely well.  M. 
You do not therefore think that Discontent is incident to a wise man.  S. 
I do not believe it is.  M. 
Nay, if that cannot disturb the mind of a wise man, neither can any other. For what? should fear confound him? Why Fear is of those things absent, at which present is Discontent. Therefore upon removal of Discontent, Fear is also removed. There remain two Passions more; excessive Joy, and Lust; if these be not incident to a wise man, the wise man's mind will be always composed.  S. 
I am clear of that judgement.  M. 
Which then had you rather? that we should presently hoist up Sail, or, as is usual in putting forth out of the Harbour, to row a while.  S. 
What do you mean by that? for I do not understand you.  

(t) With great diligence.] Tully promiseth somewhat more than ordinary in this days Discourse, which is very accurate and judicious.    

SECT. V. The Method of the ensuing Disputation.  M. 
BEcause Chrysippus and the Stoics, when they Dispute about the Passions, take up much time in the dividing and defining them; for that part of their Discourse is very small, healeth the Soul, and suffers not its affections to grow boisterous. On the other side the Peripatetics bring many motives to allay the Heats of the mind; but pass by the pricking Thorns of Divisions and Definitions. I inquire therefore, whether I should presently spread the Sails of my Discourse, or should push it on a while before with the Oars of Logicians.  S. 
Do this latter, for the whole matter in question will be more complete by joining both means of handling it.  M. 
That is indeed the more orderly way of Proceeding; but if any thing shall fall out to be somewhat obscure, you may do well afterwards to inquire about it.  S. 
I shall do so; yet you after your usual manner, will deliver those obscure matters plainer than they are delivered by the Greeks.  M. 
I will use my best endeavours; but there is need of heedful attention, lest all should slip away, if any one thing escape you. Now what the Greeks call Passions, we choose rather to call Distempers than Diseases; in the opening those, I shall follow the old Description which was first used by Pythagoras, and then by Plato, who divide the Soul into two parts; the one they make rational, the other irrational; in the reasonable part they place Tranquillity of mind, that is a gentle and quiet Constancy; in the other the turbulent Commotions both of Anger and Concupiscence, contrary to Reason, and at Enmity with it. Let this therefore be the source of all; yet in the describing of these Passions, we shall make use of the Stoics Definitions and Devisions, who seem to me to handle this question most judiciously.  

(u) Lest all should slip away, if any one thing escape you.] As the Notion he lays down of a Passion, is the Sinew of the whole ensuing Argument.    

SECT. VI The Definition of the Passions.  
THIS therefore is Zeno's Definition, that a Disorder, which he calls a Passion, is a Commotion of the mind, opposite to right Reason, and contrary to Nature. Some more succinctly, that a Passion is an over-vehement Affection, but they mean it over-vehement when it flies out beyond the due bounds of Natural Constancy. Now they will have the particular Passions to arise from two conceived Goods, and two conceived Evils, and so to be four. From the Goods they judge do spring Lust and Mirth: Mirth is of Goods present; Lust of future. From the Evils, Fear and Discontent. Fear from future; Discontent from present. For those things which are feared, when Imminent; when Incumbent produce Discontent. Now Mirth and Lust respect a conceit of Good things. Since Lust upon the appearance of Good, being inveigled and inflamed, is imported after it. Mirth, when it hath once acquired what was coveted after, is elevated and exults. For all men naturally pursue, what things appear Good, and avoid the contrary. Wherefore so soon as any object is set before the mind, which carrieth in it some appearance of good Nature itself, pusheth us on to the acquiring of it. When this is managed with Constancy and Prudence, such Desire the Stoics call a Willingness, we may a regular Will; this they think is in the wise man only, which they thus define. A regular Will is that which desireth a thing according to Reason; but that which is hurried on violently, in opposition to Reason, that is Lust and unbridled Concupiscence, which is sound in all Fools. In like manner, when we are so affected, as being in the Fruition of some good that falls out to be after two sorts; for when the mind beats gently, and in an even temper according to reason, than it is called Joy: but when the Soul is flushed without cause, and beyond due bounds, that may be called transporting, or excessive Mirth; which they thus define an Elevation of the Mind, without reason. And because, as we naturally affect good, so we naturally decline Evil; which declining, if it be according to reason, should be called Caution, and understood to be in the wise man only. But if it be without reason, and with a base and sordid Dejection of Spirit, should be called Fear. Fear therefore is a Caution contrary to Reason. As for a present Evil, the wise man hath no concern about it; but a Fool hath that wherewith men are affected in conceited Evils, and let their Spirits sink, and are Melancholy, not obeying Reason. Therefore this is the first Definition, that Discontent be a dejection of mind, contrary to Reason, so there are four Passions, three ordinate Affections; because there is no ordinate Affection opposed to Discontent.   

SECT. VII. The Intellect Accessary to the Passions.  
BUT they determine that all these Passions have their Causes, in the judgement and Opinion. Therefore they define them closer, so that it may be understood, not only how culpable they are, but also how much under our Power. Thus Discontent is a fresh opinion of a present Evil, under which it seems our Duty to be dejected and troubled in mind. Mirth a fresh opinion of a present Good, upon which it seems our Duty to be elevated. Fear an opinion of an impending Evil, which seems intolerable. Lust an opinion of an approaching Good, the presence and Fruition of which, would be beneficial to us. Now as to those Opinions and Judgements, which I said were Ingredients of the Passions, they do not say that only the Passions have their subsistence from them, but also the Effects of those Passions; so that Discontent causeth a certain painful remorse. Fear a withdrawing of the Soul, and a kind of flight. Mirth, an extravagant Jollity: Lust an unbridled Concupiscence. Again they interpret that opinion, which we have inserted into the Definitions abovementioned, to be a weak assent. But under each of these general Passions, there are certain particular ones of the same sort distributed, as under Discontent, Envying (for we must serve ourselves of a less usual word, in order to the clearness of Explication, since the word Envy, especially in Latin, is taken not only actively, as it refers to him that Envys, but passively as to him that is envied for the Odium that is cast upon him,) Emulation, Detraction, Pity, Anguish, Mourning, Bemoaning, Distress, Sorrow, Lamentation, Anxiety, Uneasiness, Self-afflicting, Despair, and whatever else be of the same Nature. Again subordinate to Fear, are Sloth, Shame, Terror, Timorousness, Dismay, Confusion, Distraction, Cowardice; under Pleasure, Malice, rejoicing at another's Mischief, Delight, Boasting and the like. Under Lust, Anger, Wrath, Hatred, Enmity, Discord, Want, Desire, and the rest of that kind. Now these they define after this manner.   

SECT. VIII. The subordinate Passions designed. Of Discontent and Fear.  
THEY say that Envying is a Discontent, admitted upon another's good Successes, being no ways prejudicial to him that envieth; for if any one be troubled at the Prosperity of one who hurts him, he is not properly said to Envy; as if Agamemnon should be so at Hector's: But he who is grieved that another should enjoy those advantages which are no ways prejudicial to himself, he in truth is envious. Emulation again hath a twofold importance, so as to be taken both in a good and a bad Sense; for the imitation of Virtue is also called Emulation; but we have nothing to do with it here in that acceptation, for that is praiseworthy. And there is an Emulation, a Discontent, if another enjoy, and one go himself without that which he hath eagerly coveted after. Detraction is now what I would have understood to be Jealousy, a Discontent that another should share in that which one hath eagerly coveted. Pity is a Discontent arising from the Misery of another suffering wrongfully; for no Body is touched with pity, at the punishment of an Assassin or Traitor. Anguish is a sore Discontent. Mourning is a Discontent at the untimely death of one who was dear to us. Bemoaning is a Discontent with Tears. Distress a toilsome Discontent. Grief a tormenting Discontent. Lamentation a Discontent with wailing. Solicitude a Discontent with pensiveness. Uneasiness a persevering Discontent. Self-afflicting a Discontent with Inflictions upon the Body. Despair a Discontent without any expectation of better condition. But what are subject to Fear they thus define. Sloth to be a Fear of ensuing Labour. Terror an astonishing Fear: Whence it cometh to pass, that blushing followeth shame; paleness, and trembling, and gnashing of Teeth, Terror. Timorousness to be a Fear of approaching Evil. Dismay a Fear that puts the mind besides itself; whence that of Ennius.  Dismay all wisdom from my Soul expels. 
Confusion a Fear following, and as it were attendant on Dismay. Distraction, a Fear that breaks all the Measures we had taken. Dread, a persevering Fear.   

SECT. IX. — of Pleasure and Lust.  
AGAIN, the particular Branches from Pleasure they thus describe; that Malice should be a Pleasure taken in another's harm, without any advantage to onesself. Delight, a Pleasure charming the mind, with the sweetness of the hearing; and such as is that of the Ears, such are those of the Eyes, the Touching, the Scent, and Taste; which are all of one kind, as it were Pleasures melted down to gratify the Soul. Boasting is a Pleasure naturally Impertinent, and which exalts itself with some Insolence. But what Passions are subjected to Lust, they thus define; so that Anger is a Lust of punishing him who appears to have injured us Wrath is Anger breaking forth, and newly arisen which is in Greek called Heat. Hatred is an inveterate Anger. Enmity, an Anger watching the time of taking Revenge. Heartburning is a deadly feud conceived with inward rancour of Spirit. Worldliness, an insatiable Lust. Expectation, a Lust of seeing one who is not yet come. They further distinguish this, that Lust is of those things which are affirmed of one or more (which the Logicians call Predicates) as having Riches, bearing Offices Want is a Lust after the things themselves, as Money as Honours. Again they say the Spring of all Passions is Intemperance, which is a defection from the whole Understanding, and from right Reason. At such Aversion to the Orders of Reason, that its Affections can by no means be regulated nor restrained. As Temperance therefore moderates the Affections, and causeth them to obey right Reason; so it's opposite habit Intemperance Fires, Confounds, puts into an Uproar the whole State of the Mind; therefore both Discontents and Fears, and all the other Passions take their Rise from it.   

CHAP. X. The Original of the Distempers of the Soul.  
AS therefore, when the Blood is corrupted, or Phlegm abounds, or Choler in the Body, Diseases and Indispositions are engendered. So the medley of perverse Opinions, and their opposition one to another, rob the Soul of its Health, and afflict it with Diseases. Now from the Passions first Diseases, as they so call them, are contracted, and those Habits which are contrary to those Diseases, as having a depraved Aversion and Distaste for certain things. Then Indispositions, which are called by the Stoics Infirmities; and also contrary Aversions opposed to them. Upon this place too much Pains is taken by the Stoics, and especially Chrysippus, it setting forth the resemblance between the Diseases of the Body, and those of the Soul; waving which Discourse, not at all necessary, let us dispatch those things wherein the Matter consists. Be it therefore adverted, that whilst Opinions toss about, as they are inconstant and impetuous, Passion is still in motion. But when this boiling and tumult of the Soul hath fermented, and as it were, shed itself into the Veins and Marrow, then breaks forth both the Disease and Indisposition, and those Aversions which are contrary to those Diseases and Indispositions.   

SECT. XI. The Nature of Passion and Antipathy.  
THESE things which I am speaking of, differ from one another in Speculation, but in reality are linked together, and arise from Lust and Mirth; for when Money is coveted, and Reason not presently applied, as a kind of Socratic Medicim, to cure that coveting; the Infection sinks into the Veins, and cleaves to the Vitals; and breaks forth into a Disease, and Indisposition of mind; which being grown old, cannot be plucked out; and the name of the Disease is Covetousness; and other Diseases in like manner, as Vainglory, as multiplying Wives, or, as the Greeks have it, Love of Women; and other Diseases and Indispositions of mind, do in like manner arise; but those which are contrary to these, they are thought to spring from Fear, as Hatred of Women, such as was in the Woman-hater; as Hatred of all Mankind, which we have heard was in Timon surnamed the Man-hater, as is Inhospitality. All which Indispositions of Mind, spring from a certain Fear of those things which men avoid and hate. Now they define an Indisposition of Mind, a strong conceit cleaving to the Soul, and deeply rooted in it, about a thing not truly desired, as though it were greatly to be desired. But as to that which ariseth from Aversion, they thus define it to be a strong conceit, cleaving to the Soul, and deeply rooted in it, about a thing not truly to be avoided, as though it were to be avoided. Now this conceit is an Opinion that one knows, what he doth not know. But under this Indisposition, such like Habits are comprised, Covetousness, Ambition, immoderate Love of Women, Wrangling, Liquorishness, excess of Wine, Daintiness, and any other suchlike things. Now Covetousness is a strong conceit about Money, as though it were greatly to be desired, cleaving to the Soul, and deeply rooted in it; so the Definition of other such Distempers is of like Form. Again the Definitions of Aversions are of such sort, as that Inhospitality is a strong conceit, that a Stranger should be greatly avoided, which conceit cleaveth to the Soul, and is deeply implanted in it. In like manner is also defined, Hatred of Women, as in Hippolytus; and of all Mankind, as in Timon.   

SECT. XII. The Analogy between the Sickness of the Soul and Body in ill habit.  
NOW that I may come to the resemblance of Bodily Health, with the right State of the Soul. And we may make that Comparison, though less tritely than the Stoics use to do; some are more inclinable to one Disease, and others to another, (therefore we call some Scorbutical, others Gouty, not that they are always in the Fit, but are often so) some to Fear, others to some other Passion. Whereupon carefulness is named to be in some men, when they are called careful or worldly men; in others Hastiness, which differs from Anger; and it is one thing to be Hasty, another to be Angry; for neither are all those careful men, who have sometimes Care upon them; nor have all careful men at all times Care upon them; as there is difference between being Drunk, and being a Drunkard; and it is one thing to be a Bully, another a Suitor. Thus this Propension of some to one Disease, others to another, is of large extent; for it is applicable to all Passions; it is also apparent in many Vices; but the Notion hath not a distinct Denomination: Therefore men are styled both Envious, and Malicious, and Dirty, and Timorous, and Compassionate, because they are inclinable to such Passions, not because they are always actually imported by them. This proneness therefore of every man to his respective Humour, peculiar to his Complexion, from resemblance of the Body, is named an Indisposition in such Sense as it may be meant a proneness to Distemper; but this, in good things, may be named easiness. Since some are more ready to one good Quality, and others to another; in bad things a proneness; to connote a Propension to fall; in indifferent things it may have the former name. Now as in the Body there is a Disease, an Indisposition, and a Blemish; so also in the Soul.   

SECT. XIII. The Similitude between soundness and unsoundness of Body and Soul.  
THEY call a Disease, a Corruption of the whole Mass. An Indisposition, a Disease with Infirmity. A Blemish, a Disproportion in the order of the Parts of the Body, from whence arise a crookedness of Limbs, Dislocation, Deformity. So that the formet two, Disease and Indisposition, grow from the Concussion and Disturbance of the Health of the whole Body. But a Blemish, without the Impeachment of Health, is discernible of itself; but in the Soul, we can distinguish the Disease from the Indisposition, by thought only. But the Blemish of the Soul is an Habit or Quality of a Mind wavering all its Life, and at Discord with itself; so it cometh to pass, that in the one, Disease and Indisposition, is caused by Corruption of Opinions; in the other by Inconstancy and Opposition; for every Blemish hath not incongruous Parts, as that of those who are not far removed from Perfection. It is indeed a Quality jarring with itself, so far as it is short of Perfection, but not dislocated nor crooked. Now Diseases and Indispositions are Parts of being blemished. But whether Passions be parts of it, is a question; for Blemishes are Permanent Qualities, but Passions moving ones, so that they cannot be parts of the Permanent Qualities. And as the resemblance of the Body approacheth the Nature of the Soul in bad, so also in good Qualities; for Bodily Excellencies are Beauty, Strength, Health, a good Constitution, Swiftness, the like are also in the Soul. That Temper of the Body, wherein the parts of the Body hold a right Correspondence, is a State of Health; so is it called soundness of mind, when its Judgements and Opinions thereof, are at accord one with another; and that is the Virtue of the Soul, which some call Temperance itself; others a Quality obeying the Rules of Temperance, and consequent upon it, nor having any particular Denomination of its own; but whether it be this, or that, they say it is found in the wise man only. Though there be a certain soundness of mind, whereof an unwise man is also capable, when he hath been distracted, and cured by the Physicians. And as there is a just Symmetry of parts, together with a freshness of colour, and that is called Beauty; so in the Soul, an even Temper and Constancy of Opinions and Judgements, with Resolution and Steadfastness; following upon Virtue, or making up the very Nature of it, is called its Beauty. Likewise from a Similitude to the Strength of the Body, its Sinews and Activity; the Strength of the Soul is named in like Terms. Again the Swiftness of the Body is hammed Celerity; Wit hath also a like Commendation for quickness, when the mind can dispatch much business in a short time.   

SECT. XIV. Their Dissimilitude.  
THERE is the Dissimilitude between Souls and Bodies, that Souls in their full strength, cannot fall into Sickness, Bodies may. But the Disorders of Bodies may happen without any fault; of Souls, cannot so. All whose Diseases and Passions arise from a Disobedience to Reason; and consequently are to be found in men only; for Beasts do somewhat analogous, but fall not into Passions. There is again this difference between the acute and the dull Wits; as the Corinthian Brass, in reference to Rust; so they fall into a Distemper slower, and are recovered sooner; but it is not so with dull Persons. Nor in truth does the mind of the ingenuous fall into every Disease and Passion; for it doth not into many Brutish and Savage ones; but some there be, that carry an appearance at the first sight of Humanity and Tenderness, as Compassion, Trouble, Fear. Now Indispositions and Diseases are thought to be removed with more difficulty, than are those greatest Vices, which are contrary to the Cardinal Virtues; for whilst the Diseases abide, the Vices cannot be taken away; because those are not so speedily cured, as these are removed. You have what the Stoics accurately Dispute concerning the Passions, which they call Logic, because it is argued with much Subtlety; now since our Discourse is gotten, as it were, clear from among those lurking Rocks; we will stand a direct course in the rest of our Disputation, if we have delivered these things with sufficient plainness, in regard of the obscurity of the matter.  


(a) As the Corinthian Brass.] This rich Metal, famous in Antiquity, is said to have been a Compound of Copper, Silver, Gold, melted down into one, at first casually when the Romans burned Corinth.   

(b) Which they call Logic.] He reflects upon the large and improper use of that Term, in a Subject really belonging to Morals.     

SECT. XV. The Cure of the Souls Infirmities.  S. 
YOU have sufficiently; but if any thing stand in need of further Examination, we will inquire about it elsewhere; now we expect the Soul you mentioned, and the shaping your course.  M. 
Since we both have in our places, and often must speak about Virtue (for most questions which concern Life and Manners, are derived from Virtue as their Fountain) since then Virtue is a Quality of the mind constant and uniform, making those commendable in whom it is; and is itself upon its own account commendable, abstracting from any profit thence to grow; from it do proceed honest Intentions, Expressions, Action, and all right Reason; although Virtue itself may most compendiously be called right Reason. The opposite then of this Virtue, is Viciousness, for I had rather so call it, than Malice, for Malice, in Latin, is the name of a certain Vice; Viciousness of all. From hence are gathered the Passions, which are, as we said a little before, boisterous and violent Motions of Souls, averse to Reason, and the greatest Enemies of the Understandidg, and the quiet of Life. For they bear in upon us anxious and bitter Troubles, and afflict and disable our Souls with Fear. The same inflame us with too eager Desire, which we call sometimes Coneupiscence, and sometimes Lust; an unruliness of Mind, set at the greatest distance from Temper and Moderation; which if it have at any time obtained what was lusted after, then doth it bring a cheerfulness; so that its whole work appears to be empty and unprofitable, according to his judgement who thinks immoderate Pleasure of the Mind, to be the greatest Error. The Cure therefore, of these Evils, lies in Virtue only.   

SECT. XVI. Especially to be in Moderation.  
NOW what is not only more pitiful, but also more ugly and odious, than a man in Adversity abandoned to grief, and no ways moving to help himself? To which Misery he is next Neighbour, who fears any approaching Evil, and without coming to some Resolution, is lost in endless Debates: which Oppression of Evil, the Poets signify when they make a ponderous Stone hanging over the Head of Tantalus in Hell, for his Impieties, the ungovernableness of his Spirit, and his irreverent Speeches against the Deity; that is a punishment common to all Folly: For there is always impending over all whose heart is hardened against the advice of Reason, some such Terror. Now as these are Consumptive Passions of the Mind, I mean Discontent and Fear; so those pleasanter Concupiscence, always greedily desiring somewhat, and empty Mirth, that is, extravagant Jollity, do not much differ from madness. From whence is understood, what temper of mind he is of, whom, at times, we call Moderate or Modest, Grave, Sober, and Constant; sometimes we love to rank these Names under the Notion of Frugality or Honesty, as its general Head; because unless these Virtues were comprehended under that Term, that saying would never have been so common, as that it is now past into a Proverb; that a Frugal, or honest, man doth all things well; which very Character, when the Stoics attribute to their wise man, we take it for a mere Rant and Bravado.   

SECT. XVII. This Moderation to be peculiar to the wise man.  
HE therefore, call him by what name you will, who through Moderation and Constancy, hath quiet of mind, and is at Peace with himself; so as neither to fret out of Discontent, nor to be confounded with Fear, who neither is inflamed with an impatient longing after any thing, nor ravished out of himself into the Fool's Paradise of an empty Mirth; this is the wise man, after whom we are in quest; this the Happy man, to whom no occurrent of Life can seem either so afflictive, as to deject his Spirit, or so satisfactory as to elate it; for what, in this transitory Scene of Mortality, can he judge great, who hath Eternity in prospect, and under Survey the extent of the Universe? Can any thing, I pray, either in Humane Policys, or in this span of Life, seem great to a wise man, who so stands always upon his guard, that nothing new, nothing unexpected can befall him; nothing against which he is not already provided; and who still walks with such Vigilance and Circumspection, that he always provides himself a retreat and Sanctuary, of living without disquiet and perplexity, so that whatever change, Fortune shall bring upon him, he may bear it readily and with ease. He that shall do this, will not only be free from Discontent, but also from all other inordinate Affections. Now this dispassionate mind renders men perfectly and completely Happy; whereas if that be disturbed and withdrawn from right and steadfast Reason, it loseth not only its Constancy, but also its Health. Wherefore the Opinion and Doctrine of the Peripatetics must be counted Lasche and Effeminate, who maintain the Passions to be necessary, but prefix certain bounds, beyond which they must not pass. Will you prescribe bounds to Vice or is it no Vice to disobey Reason? or doth n● Reason sufficiently dictate that not to be good which you either eagerly covet, or grow haught upon the Acquisition of it? nor that again to be evil under the weight of which you either ly● overwhelmed, or are ready to run distracted, le●● you should be overwhelmed by it; and that a●● those accidents come to be either over-sad, o● over-joyous through mistake in Opinion; which misapprehension of it, abate in Fools upon leng●● of time, so that the object continuing the same yet they bear it in one sort, when it is become old and in another, whilst it was yet fresh, that it should not at all affect the Wise. Now what can those bounds be? for let us inquire after the bounds of Grief, upon which subject the most labour is laid out. It is Recorded in Fannius, that P. Ratilius laid to heart his Brother's repulse when he stood to be Consul. But he is judged to have exceeded due bounds, for he so far resented it, a● that it cost him his Life; he should therefore have boar it more moderately. Suppose, then, he had taken that with Moderation, and upon it, the death of Children had fallen in, a new Grief would have arisen, but that moderate; yet the Addition would have been great: what, if, upon that, had followed grievous Pains of Body, if loss of Estate if Blindness, if Banishment, if, upon every particular Misfortune, Griefs were to be added, the Sum would be inflamed, so as to become intolerable.  

(c) That P. Rutilius laid to heart.] P. Rutilius a man of exemplary Conversation, stood against Scaurus, and lost the Consulship; his Brother at that time labouring under some slight Distemper, laid it so much to heart, that it heightened his Disease, of which he died.    

SECT. XVIII. The object of this Moderation must not be Vice.  
HE therefore, that would look to set bounds to Vice, doth just as if he should fling himself down the Cliff of Leucas, and think to stop when he pleased; for as he cannot do that, so neither can a mind disturbed and imported, restrain itself, nor stay at what degree of Passion it will; for what things are pernicious in their growth, the same are vicious in their Original. Now Discontent and the other Passions, to be sure, when heightened, are great Pests; therefore, so soon as admitted, have in them somewhat strongly Pestilential, for these push themselves forward, when once the hold of Reason is left; and the very weakness still feeds its own humour growing upon itself, till it is unawares carried adrift by the strength of its current, into the main Ocean, nor finds any ground for Ancourage. So that it imports nothing, as to any difference, whether they approve moderate Passions, or moderate Injustice, moderate Cowardice, moderate Intemperance; for he that sets bounds to Vices, in part admits those Vices. Which, as it is of itself detestable, so draws it the more inconvenience with it, because they stand on slippery ground, and being once put in motion, tumble down hill, and can by no means be stayed.  

(d) The Cliff of Leucas.] This was a steep Rock in Epirus, from whence Shafalus and Sapph are said to have slung themselves into the Sea.    

SECT. XIX. The Peripatetics Opinion about moderating the Passions, of Anger and Lust.  
WHAT say we to this, that these Peripatetics affirm those Passions which we think should be extirpated, not only to be natural, but also for good ends to be by nature given us? for thus they proceed. First they give great Commendations of Anger, call it the Whetstone of Valour, and say that the Charges of men in Fury, both upon an Enemy and a Seditious Citizen, are much more vigorous, but slight the petty Reasonings of those who move upon such Considerations; it is right or wrong to do thus or thus; meet it is, that we hazard life for our Laws, our Liberties, our Country; these Reflections are powerless and ineffectual, unless Valour be inflamed by Wrath; nor do they limit this Maxim to Military men only; but think there can be no strict Discipline, without some roughness of a choleric Humour: In a word, they take him for no good Lawyer, who not only in impeaching, but even in defending, doth not reflect upon his Adversary with some smartness of resentment. Nay though in truth he feel no Passion, yet they think it should be counterfeited in words and gesture, that so the action of the Orator may incense the Auditor. Lastly they account him no man who cannot be angry; and that which we call Gentleness, they represent under the ill name of Softness. Nor do they praise this Lust alone, (for Anger is, as I lately defined it, a Lust of Revenge) but also say, that Lust in general, or eagerness of Affection, was to good Purposes, by Nature given us; for no man can achieve any brave Action, who hath not a strong Inclination towards it. Themistocles walked about the Streets in the Night, being not able to sleep; and being asked what was the matter, replied, that the Trophies of Meltiades would not let him take his natural rest; who hath not heard of the late settings up and early risings of Demosthenes; who said it went to his heart if he were at any time prevented by the industry of Artificers at their work before break of day. Lastly the most eminent Philosophers could never have made such advance in their Studies, without an eager Passion after Wisdom. We are informed that Pythagoras, Democritus, Plato travelled into remotest Regions; for they resolved to visit those places wheresoever any thing was to be learned. Do we imagine it accountable, why they should undertake this without an ardency of Affection, to have been the Principle by which they were acted in their Inquiries?   

SECT. XX. — and Discontent.  
NAY Discontent itself, which we have declared is to be shunned as an harmful and Savage Beast, they say was ordained by Nature to singular Advantages, that so men might be made sensible of their Faults, when they are chastened, reproved, and put to shame for them; since those wh● are insensible of ignominy and disgrace, seem in a s●● incorrigible and abandoned to the full sway of their ●●controul'd Vices. Better is it to have remorses ●● Conscience; whence is that reparty in Afrani●●, morally said, and answerable to the use of common Conversation; for when the Prodigal Son had said, Oh me!— the strict Father subjoins.  Grieve he, though grieve for what he please. 
They add that the other parts of Sorrow a●● useful. Pity towards moving to succour, and re●●ving the Distresses of good men in Adversity. N●● that Emulation and Detraction, are not useless when a man either sees that he hath not the same advantages with another, or that another hath the same with him. But if one should take away Fear, tha● all diligence would be taken out of man's Life which is the greatest in them who stand in awe o● our Laws, of Magistrates, of Poverty, of Ignominy, of Death; yet they argue so, as to confe●● that these affections are to be retrenched; but say they neither can nor aught to be wholly rooted out; so that they hold a mean to be best in almost all things. Now when they thus explain these things, do they in your opinion speak nothing to the purpose, or something?  S. 
In my judgement truly they speak somewhat, and therefore I am in expectation what you have to rejoin upon it.   

SECT. XXI. Against this Moderation is opposed the Stoics Definition of them.  M. 
I MAY perchance, light upon some rejoinder, but take this first. Do you not observe what great modesty the Academics use? for they speak directly what concerns the Matter. The Peripatetics are answered by the Stoics. Let them even play their prize for me; who have no farther Obligation, than to inquire upon whither side lieth the greatest appearance of truth. What is there then occurring in this question, that so somewhat probable may be apprehended in it, beyond which, humane understanding cannot advance? The Definition of a Passion, which I think Zeno hath rightly made, for thus he defineth it; that a Passion is an irrational and preternatural commotion of the mind; or more concisely, that a Passion is an over-vehement affection; but that should be understood to be over-vehement, which flies out beyond the due bounds of natural Constancy. What can I except against these Definitions? Now these are terms of sober and subtle Disputants, those other Rhetorical flourishes, to talk of Ardencies of Spirit, and Whetstones of Valour. Cannot indeed a brave man, unless he come to be chafed, do bravely? that is Fencer like, although we often see, even in them a constancy of mind. They parley, approach, complain, demand somewhat, so that they seem rather to be good Friends than angry; but allow in men of that Profession, there be some Pacideianus, so minded, as Lucilius relates?  
I'll be his death, saith he, pray how? I'll tell ye;  
I'll stick my cold Iron in his Breast, Legs, Belly;  
Though, to come at him, I his Steel devour;  
I hate him; fight in wrath, long every hour,  
Till hand in Hilt one of us be engaged,  
With heat and spite I am so far enraged.   

CHAP. XXII. That magnanimity is not the Product of Anger.  
BUT now without any of this Fencer-like Fury, we see Ajax in Homer marching with much cheerfulness when he was to fight in the single Combat with Hector, whose very gate, when he had put on his Armour, brought joy to his own Party, and terror to his Enemies; insomuch as Hector himself trembled at the very heart, as it is in Homer, and repented that he had challenged him to the Duel. Now these having, before they engaged, parleyed one with the other gently and Inquiet, did nothing, no not in the Combat, wrathfully or in rage. I do not imagine that even Torquatus, he who first won that Surname, was angry when he pulled the Chain from the Galls Neck. Nor Marcellus at Clastidium was therefore valiant, because he was in a Passion; as to Africanus, he is better known to us, as being fresher in Memory; I durst venture to take my Oath for him that he was not angry when he protected with the Interposition of his Shield, M. Halienus the Palignian in the Battle, and stuck his Sword into the Enemy's Breast. As to L. Brutus I must demur, whether it might not be out of an infinite hatred of the Tyrant, that he charged Aruns the more furiously; for I see that they were both dispatched by an interchangeable pass upon each other. Why do you then call in anger hither? Hath Valour no Efforts of its own, unless it turn outrageous? What say we to Hercules, whom the very Valour, which you call Wrath, exalted to Heaven? do you think he was angry when he encountered the Erymanthian Boar, or Nemeaean Lion? or was Theseus angry when he caught the Marathonian Bull by the Horns; Look well to it, whether Fortitude be not far from being outrageous; and Wrath wholly composed of levity; for that is no Fortitude, which is destitute of Reason.  


(e) Ajax in Homer.] Iliad. 7.   

(f) Even Torquatus.] Manlius slew a Champion of the Gauls, and spoiled him of his Gold Chain, which he put about his own neck, and left the name of Torquati to that Branch of the Manlian Family.   

(g) Marcellus at Clastidium.] He slew Britomar a Gaulish King at Clastidium a Town upon the Po; and dedicated the third Royal Spoils to Feretrian jupiter.     

SECT. XXIII. — but Reason.  
THE World must be despised, Death slighted, all Pains and Labours reputed tolerable; when these things are our determinate Judgement and Sense; then is that stout and steadfast Fortitude; unless perchance we suspect, that whatsoever is done with earnestness, vigour, and courage, is done in anger; in my judgement even Scipio that High Priest, who verified the Stoical Paradox, that a wise man is never angry, was not angry with Tib. Gracchus; then when he left the Consul sick, and being himself but a private Person, charged them whosoever tendered the safety of the Government, in the Consul's name to follow him; I know not whether we did any thing valiantly in our Government; if we did any thing, we are sure we did it not in anger. Is any thing liker Madness than Anger? which Ennius fitly called, the beginning of Madness. The Colour, Voice, Eyes, Breath, violence of Words and Actions, what Evidence do they give of one's being in his Wits? what is more ugly than Achilles in Homer? what than Agamemnon in his Brawl? for as for Ajax, Anger brought him to Frenzy and Death. Fortitude therefore needs not anger for its assistant; it is enough furnished, armed, provided of itself; for by the same reason one might say, that Drunkenness were serviceable to Fortitude; and that Madness were so too; because both Mad and Drunk, men do often many things with much vehemency. Ajax was always valiant, but most valiant in his Frenzy.  
Who did a brave Act, when the Greeks gave way,  
He checked the Foe, and raving saved the day.   

SECT. XXIV. This use of Anger confuted.  
LET us therefore say, that Madness is useful; examine well the Definition of Fortitude, you will perceive that it stands not in need of Wrath. Fortitude therefore is a Disposition of the mind, submitting to the Supreme Law, in a patient enduring what it inflicts on us, or the preserving a steady judgement in the undergoing and repelling those things which seem terrible; or the knowledge of sustaining; or wholly slighting things terrible; and contrary to our Natures, preserving a steadfast judgement concerning them: or shorter, as Chrysippus; for the former Definitions were of Sphaerus, one who had a singular good faculty in defining, as the Stoics think; for they are all in a manner alike; but they declare the common Notions one more than another. How then doth Chrysippus define it? Fortitude is, saith he, the Knowledge of enduring things, or a Disposition of mind in suffering and persevering to bear, in obedience to the Supreme Law, without Fear. We may inveigh against these men as much as we will, as Carneades was wont to do; I fear they will prove the only Philosophers. For which, of all those Definitions, doth not open our Notion of Fortitude, which all of us have of it covered and complicated; which being unfolded, who is there that would fetch from abroad any aid either for Soldier, or General, or Orator, and doth not think they can act courageously without being in a rage. What mean the Stoics, who say that all unwise men are Mad, do they not conclude these things? Remove the Passions, especially Anger; they will be taken to hold monstrous Opinions. But now they thus argue, that they affirm all Fools to be Mad, in such manner, as all mire stinks. But it doth not so always. Stir it, you will be sensible whether it do or not. So a hasty man is not always angry; provoke him, you will presently see him in a rage. What of that Military Wrath? when it is returned home, how doth it demean itself with Wife? with Children? with Servants? is it then also useful? is there then any thing that a mind in confusion can do better, than it can when it is settled? or can any one be angry without disorder of mind? our Countrymen therefore, although all Vices were in the rank of Diseases, because none was more foul than wrathfulness, did well name only wrathful Persons, as it were crazed and distracted.  

(h) Of Sphaerus.] Sphaerus a Bosporan, was Scholar of Zeno, and afterwards Cleanthes Fellow-Pupil with Chrysippus, flourished about the time of Ptolemy Philopater.    

SECT. XXV. The Indignation of Orators, Displeasure of Parents, or other Governors regular.  
BUT for an Orator to be angry, is far from decent; to make as though he were, is not indecent. Do you take us to be angry then, when we speak any thing in our plead, with somewhat more than ordinary earnestness and vehemency? What? after the Trial is past and gone, when we pen our Orations, do we pen them in anger?  Ho! None attend? Bind him— 
Do we think that either Aesop ever acted in anger, or Attius writ in anger? These things are acted handsomely, and indeed better by an Orator if he be a true Orator, than by any Player; but they are acted dispassionately and with a calm mind. But to praise Lust, what a piece of Lust is it? You produce me Themistocles and Demosthenes; you add Pythagoras, Democritus, Plato. What do you call Studiousness, Lust? which though it be after the best things, as are those in which you instance, yet aught to be composed and calm. But to praise Discontent, the thing of all to be most abhorred; what Philosophers, I pray, must that argue? But Afranius said ingeniously.  F. 
Grieve he, though grieve for what he please.  
He there spoke of a prodigal and dissolute Son, but our question proceeds upon a constant and wise man. Nay let a Captain or Ensign take this very anger, or others who are not necessary to be mentioned, lest we divulge the Mysteries of Rhetoricians, for it is expedient for him to serve himself of Affections, who cannot make use of Reason; but the Subject of our Question is, as I often testify, a Wise man.  

ay That either Aesop ever acted in anger.] Aesop the Player lived in Tully's time; the Fabulist 500 years before.    

SECT. XXVI. The pretended benefit of the other Passions disproven.  
BUT further Emulation is useful, Detraction, and Pity. Why should one pity another, rather than succour him, if he is able? Cannot we be bountiful without pity? Sure we are not bound to pull upon ourselves Discontents in favour of others, but to relieve others of their Discontent, if we are able. Again, what use can there be in detracting from another, or emulating him with that vicious Emulation which resembles Rivalship; since he that emulates is afflicted at another's good which himself hath not; on the other side, he that detracts is afflicted at another's good, because that other hath it as well as himself. Who can approve that, if one would have any thing, he should rather choose to sit down in Discontent, for being without it, then put himself upon attempts to gain it? for as to the affecting to engross it to himself, it is the highest pitch of madness. Again, who can justly commend Moderation in bad? for who is there, in whom Lust and Covetousness is, but must be lustful and covetous? in whom Wrath, but Wrathful? in whom Anxiety, but Anxious? in whom Fear, but Fearful? Do we therefore judge, that a Wise man is Lustful and Covetous, and Wrathful, and Anxious, and Fearful? of whose excellency much may be said in as large and copious manner as one please; but most succinctly thus, Wisdom is the knowledge of Divine and Humane things, and perceiving the cause of every particular one, which hath this effect, that it imitates the Divine Perfections, and esteems all Humane Occurrents inferior to Virtue. Now did you give it for your opinion, that disturbance was incident to this temper, as to the Sea, which is subject to the Winds? What is there able to disturb so great Gravity and Constancy? is any unexpected or sudden turn? What such can befall him, to whom no contingency of Humane Life is unpremeditated? For as to their saying, what is excessive should be retrenched, what natural left; I demand what can be natural, which also may be excessive; for all these things sprout from the Roots of Mistakes, which must be torn and wholly plucked up, not pared and lop'd off.   

SECT. XXVII. Whence the Remedies of Humane Frailties are to be drawn.  
BUT because I suspect you do not put the question so much about the Perfect wise man, as about yourself in a state of proficiency (for him you think to be free from all Passion, you would come to be so) let us see how great are those Remedies, which are by Philosophy prescribed to the Diseases of Souls, for, to be sure, there is some Physic for them; nor was Nature so insense an Enemy to Mankind, as to provide so many means of recovery for Bodies, and none for Souls. To which she hath been so much the more kind, as that the aids of Bodies are fetched from without, the relief of Souls is enclosed in themselves. But the greater and diviner Excellency is in them the greater Diligence do they need. On this account reason well consulted, behold what is the best, when neglected, is entangled in many Errors. Therefore my whole discourse is to be turned to you; for you put the case, as of a wise man, but perhaps you inquire about yourself. There are then divers cures of those Passions, which I have laid down; for every Discontent is not assuaged the same way, for there is one method to be taken with him who Mourns, another with him that Pities, another again with him who Envieth. There is further in all the four Capital Passions, this distinction, whether the Discourse be better addressed against Passion in general, which is a disobeying of Reason, or an over-vehement Affection; or against the particular ones, as Fear, Lust, and the rest. Again, whether that particular object, which occasions our Discontent, be to be taken heinously; or whether we should be discontented upon any occasion at all. As if one should be troubled that he is Poor, whether you should dispute with him that there is no evil in Poverty; or that a man should be contented in every condition; clearly this is the better, lest, if you should not persuade in the instance of Poverty; way must be given to Discontent; but if Discontent be removed by the proper Arguments which we used yesterday, the evil of Poverty is also in some sort removed.   

SECT. XXVIII. The most certain method of cure, is to convince that all Passions are of themselves culpable.  
BUT all such disturbance of Spirit would be cleared by pacifying the mind, as thus, to inform it how that is neither good, whence its Mirth or Lust arises; nor that evil whence either its Fear or Discontent; but this is the sure and Catholic Remedy, if you inform the Person that the very Passions are of themselves culpable, and have nothing in them either natural or necessary; as we see even Discontent itself to be assuaged, when we expose to Persons, impatient under Sorrow, the feebleness of an effeminate Spirit; and when we commend the Gravity and Constancy of those who endure the chances incident to Humane Life, without breaking forth into Passion; which also is the case of those who think these Afflictions to be Evils, but such as are to be born patiently. One taketh pleasure to be good; another Money; yet both the former may be reclaimed from Intemperance, and the latter from Covetousness: but that other method, which both rectifieth the Mistake, and removeth Discontent; that is indeed the more beneficial, but seldom taketh effect. Nor is it to be addressed to vulgar Capacities. Again there are some Discontents which that Application can no way relieve; as if one should be troubled in mind, that he hath in him no Virtue, no Understanding, no Conscience, no Honour, he is in truth afflicted for Evils, but a Remedy of another Nature is to be applied to him, and such wherein all Philosophers, though otherwise disagreeing, do consent; for all of them must accord in this, that stir of the Soul averse to right Reason, are faulty; so that whether those things which cause Fear and Discontent, be not Evil; or those which move Lust or Mirth be not Good; yet the stirring itself is faulty; for by him, whom we call a courageous and Gallant man, we mean one Constant, Composed, Grave, and undervaluing all Contingencies of Humane Life. But neither can one who Mourns, or Fears, or Covets, or Vaunts be such; for these are the Deportments of such as count the Events incident to Humane Life, to have an ascendent over their Souls.   

SECT. XXIX. Laying open the changes common to our condition allays excessive grief.  
WHerefore it is the universal method of cure, as I said before, of all Philosophers not to descant of what nature is the object which moveth our Passion, but to discuss the Passion itself. Therefore first as to concupiscence itself, it being only proposed to remove it, we must not inquire whether the object of that Lust be good or not, but the Lust itself must be removed. So that whether honesty be the chiefest Good, or Pleasure, or both of them jointly, or the three sorts of good; however ordinate be the affection, yet if it become immoderate, the same address by way of dehortation is to be made to all. Now Humane Nature brought into view, infers all motives of appeasing the Spirit; which that it may be the more plainly discerned in its colours, the common condition and terms of life, are to be explained in our Discourse. Therefore Socrates upon good grounds, when Euripides first brought upon the Stage his Tragedy of Orestes, is said to have bid repeat him again the three first Verses.  
No matchless grief can Poets wit invent,  
No vengeance from incensed heavens be sent;  
But Humane Nature may its pressure bear.  
Now towards the persuading that such misfortunes both may and aught to be born; the recital of such as have born the like is useful; although the means of allaying Discontent have been explained both in yesterdays Dispute, and in our Treatise of Consolation, which we writ in the midst of our Mourning and Sorrow, (for we were not of them who had attained to Perfection) and what Chrysippus forbids the applying remedy, as it were, to the green Sores of the Soul, that did we, and offered violence to Nature, that so the Plaster might be as broad as the swelling that it was to discuss.   

SECT. XXX. The like Remedy of Fear.  
BUT bordering upon Discontent, concerning which we have sufficiently disputed, is Fear, about which a few things are to be spoken. For as Discontent refers to an evil present, so doth Fear to one future; therefore did some say, that Fear was a part of Discontent; but others called Fear a trouble aforehand, because it is as it were, the forerunner of ensuing trouble; upon what accounts therefore present Evils are borne, upon the same following ones are slighted; for we must take heed in both, that we do nothing mean, base, cowardly, effeminate, low-spirited, and desperate. But although we are to speak to the inconstancy, feebleness, and levity of Fear itself; yet is it of good advantage to depretiate the objects of Fear: So that whether it were by chance, or upon design, it is fallen out very luckily that we have disputed of those things which are the great objects of Fear, Death, and Pain, the first and second day; which Reasons, if they were convictive, we are already in great part delivered from Fear. Thus much then be said to the opinion of Evils.   

SECT. XXXI. The difference between Mirth and Joy.  
LET us consider now that of Goods, that is, of Mirth and Concupiscence. I am of opinion in this whole account, referring to the Passions, the stress of the whole cause lies in one thing, that they are all under our own Power, all taken up by choice, all voluntary. This mistake therefore, must be rectified, this opinion undeceived, and as in conceited Evils they are to be represented tolerable; so in like Good, those which appear great and joyous, are to be rendered more calm. Now this is common to Good and Evil, so that if it be at this time difficult to persuade, that none of these things which disturb the mind, is to be reckoned among either Good or Evil things; yet one sort of cure is to be applied to one affection, and another to another; and the malicious is to be amended by one course; he that is given to Women by another; the Worldling again by another; the Coward by another; and it were an easy matter, pursuant to that Supposition which is most currant concerning things Good and Evil, to deny that an unwise man can ever rejoice, because he never possesseth any Good thing. But we now speak after the common Custom; allow them, since you will have it so, to be Good things, as they are reputed; Honours, Riches, Pleasures, and the rest; yet a vaporing and flashy Mirth in the Fruition of those very Benefits, is unseemly; as though Laughter be allowable, yet Giggling is blameworthy, for the flushing of the Soul in Mirth, is liable to the same censure, as the shrinking of it in Sorrow; and Concupiscence hath the same levity in Desire, as Mirth in Enjoyment; and as Spirits too much dejected with trouble, so the same too elevated with Mirth, are justly judged to be light. Now whereas Envy is a sort of Discontent, and taking pleasure in another's Misfortunes, a sort of Merriment, both of them are wont to be redressed, by discovering how barbarous and inhuman they are. Now as to beware is seemly, to Fear unbeseeming; so is it seemly to rejoice, unbeseeming to be merry; since we distinguish Mirth from Joy, for greater clearness in Explication of the Point. This we have before delivered, that dejection of mind can never be warrantable, Elevation may, for Hector in Naevius doth rejoice after one sort.  I joy, Sir, praised by you, who merit praise. 
Chaerea in Trabea after another.  
The Bawd, with Gift appeased, if I but wink;  
Will in my looks read what I will, I think.  
Touch but the door, it shall wide open fly;  
Chrysis surprised to see, ere I draw nigh:  
Shall meet me, smiling, courting my embrace;  
Rendered—  
How brave this is, himself shall subjoin.  — I Fortune shall in bliss surpass.  

SECT. XXXII. The scandalousness of Lust.  
HOW indecent this Mirth is, any one who doth but mind it any thing near, may clearly see. And as those are base who are elevated in Mirth, upon the satisfaction of their Lust, so are they scandalous, who are carried forth after it with an inflamed Concupiscence, and that whole affection commonly called Love (nor in truth do I find by what other name it may be called) hath so much of Levity in it, that I know nothing which I can think comparable to it; of which Caecilius.  
I must the Man, or Fool, or Novice deem,  
Who doth not Love, a mighty God esteem;  
Love an unlimited Power doth exercise,  
Makes whom he will run mad, keeps others wise;  
Some he to cure, and some to kill delights;  
Sets others up the Lady's Favourites.  
Oh rare Reformer of Manners, Poetry, which thinks that Love, the Author of Lewdness and Levity, is to be seated in the Counsel of the Gods! I speak of Comedy, and indeed there would be no such thing, as that whole Posy, did we not approve of these Scandals. But in Tragedy, what saith the Prince of the Argonauts?  You saved me for your love, not my respect. 
What then? how great a train of miserable Consequences did this love of Medea draw after it? and yet she dares, in another Poet, tell her Father, she had for an Husband one.  Whom Love more powerful than a Father gave.  

SECT. XXXIII. Inordinate Love taxed in Poets.  
BUT let us give Poets leave to be pleasant, in whose Fables we see Jupiter himself that way scandalous. Come we to Philosophers the professed Teachers of Virtue, who deny that Love relates to uncleanness, and contest about that with Epicurus, not much, in my opinion, therein mistaken; for what is that Love of Friendship? or how comes it to pass, that none fall in Love either with an unhandsome Youth, or an handsome Old man? This Custom seems to me to have been taken its Original in the Academies of the Greeks, amongst whom those Amours are free and allowed. Therefore Ennius said well.  To strip in public, tempts t'immodesty. 
These men, though they be, as I see they may be, honest, yet are perplexed and anxious, and so much the more, because they struggle under Provocations to refrain themselves. Now to pass by Love made to Women, wherein Nature hath granted a greater Freedom, who either in the rape of Ganymede, maketh any doubt what the Poets mean by it? or doth not understand what Laius in Euripides both speaks of, and Lusts after? or lastly what those learned and eminent Poets publish of themselves in their Songs and Sonnets? Alcaeus a man of tried Courage in his Country, what hath he written of his Love of Youths? as for Anacreon, his whole Posy is amorous; but Ibycus of Rhegium, that he was most passionate in his Loves, appears from his Writings.   

SECT. XXXIV. — but more in Philosophers.  
NOW we see all these men's were lustful Amours. Philosophers are risen up of us, and our Plato is the Author too, whom Dicaearchus doth not without good reason, tax in that behalf, for giving Reputation to Love. The Stoics too, both determine that a wise man may be in Love, and define Love to be an essay of contracting Friendship upon the account of Beauty. Now if there be any such thing in Nature, without perplexity, without lingering, without care, without sighing, be it with all my heart, for it is free from Lust; but this Discourse proceeds upon Lust. But if there be any Love, as in truth there is some, that is not at all, or not much removed from madness, such as is in Leucadiae.  If any God do my Affairs procure. 
A worthy employment indeed, for all the Gods to procure him the good graces of his Mistress.  Wretch that I am! 
The truest word you could have spoken. The other also puts in not amiss.  
— What? are you in your Wits,  
To make such idle moan?—  
So that he seems mad even to those about him; but what uproar did he make?  
Help blessed Apollo! mighty Neptune help!  
And you fair Winds!—  
He thinks that the whole course of Nature must turn aside out of its way, to relieve his Passion. Only Venus he excepts against as partial.  To Venus, why should I appeal? 
He doth not allow her to regard any thing out of Lust; as though he did out of Lust both speak and act so scandalously.   

SECT. XXXV. The remedy of Love.  
WITH a man therefore, in this condition, such course is to be taken, as to show him how slight, how contemptible, how worthless the object of his desire is; how easily it may be supplied either from another place, or by other means; or be quite let alone sometimes too, the Person is to be taken off to other Studies, Employments, Cares, Businesses: Lastly, he is often to be cured, as consumptive Patients, by change of Air. Nay, some think that an old Love is to be cast forth by a new one, as one Peg is driven out with another. But especially the Party is to be informed how outrageous the sway of Love is; for in truth of all the Passions, none is more violent. So that though one should not at the present inveigh against Debaucheries, Rapes, Adulteries, and to instance in no more, Incests, the vileness of all which, is justly reproachable; but to wave all these, the bare disorder of the mind in Love, singly by itself considered, is deformed. For to pass by, as I said, those parts of outrage, what fickleness is there in these, seeming petty Matters.  
— Abuse.  
Suspicion, open falling out, short Truce,  
War, Peace again; who for Absurdities  
Account demands, bids be both mad and wise.  
This inconstancy and changeableness of mind, whom would it not scare with the very obliquity of it? for here also must that be demonstrated, which is said of all Passions, that there is none of them, but in conceit, are taken upon choice, and voluntary; for if Love were natural, both all would Love and be loved; and would always Love, and would Love the same thing; nor would shame deter one, consideration another, a third satiety.   

SECT. XXXVI. — of Anger.  
BUT Anger, how long soever it disturbs the mind, is without Controversy madness; by the instigation of which, such ill Language passeth even between Brethren.  
What man more impudent than thee, e'er lived?  
Or than thee more malicious?—  
You know what follows, for bitter reproaches are retorted by one Brother, upon the other in Verses interchangeably; so that it may easily appear that they are Atreus his own Sons; his who contrives a new vengeance upon his Brother.  
Some strange Plot, deep design I must devise,  
His raging heart with horror to surprise.  
What then is this Plot? hear Thyestes himself.  
Welcome, saith my kind Brother, pray fall on;  
Good cheer! my Sons.  
And sets their Bowels in a Dish before him; for what Degree is there that Anger will not arrive at, and at which Fury will? Hence we say of men in Passion, that they are out of all Government, that is Counsel, Reason, Understanding; for these aught to have the Government over the whole Soul. For men in this condition, either those are to be conveyed from them, upon whom they would fall violently, till they recollect themselves (now what is it to recollect one's self, but to rally the scattered and disordered parts of the Soul into their proper place?) or they are to be entreated and begged at to defer what thoughts they had of executing their revenge, till another time, when their Anger cools; now cooling implies, that the Spirits did boil over contrary to the Dictates of Reason. To which that saying of Architas refers, who being in some heat against his Bailiff, said, How would I have ordered you, were I not Angry.   

SECT. XXXVII. The Cause of Passions, an opinion that they are our Duty.  
WHERE then are those that say Wrath is useful? Can Madness be useful? or natural. Can any thing be agreeable to Nature, and contrary to Reason? Now if Anger were natural, how could it be either that one man should be more hasty than another; or that it could be over before the desire of Revenge be satiated, or that any should repent of what they did in Passion; as we see by King Alexander, for after he had killed his Friend Clitus, he could hardly forbear offering violence to himself, so strongly did Repentance work upon him. These things being notorious, who can doubt but that this motion of the Soul is also wholly in conceit and voluntary; for who can doubt but that the Diseases of the Soul, such as Covetousness, Ambition, arise from this, that the object upon which the Soul dotes, is overvalued, whence ought to be understood, that every Passion also hath its being from opinion; and if assurance that is, a firm affiance of the mind, be a kind of Science and steadfast opinion of one yielding his assent upon good grounds only, then is Fear a diffidence of mind, upon some expected and impending Evil. If hope be the expectation of Good, needs must Fear be an expectation of Evil; as Fear then, so the other Passions relate to Evil. As Constancy then is Fruit of Knowledge, so is Passion of Error. But as for some men's being said to be naturally hasty, or pitiful, or envious, or any such thing, they have Souls, as of an unhealthful Constitution, yet curable, as is said of Socrates, when Zopyrus a great Pretender to skill in Physiognomy, had openly in company recounted many Vices, which he concluded from his Art to be in Socrates, he was derided by the rest who knew no such Vices to be in Socrates, but was helped out by himself, who owned himself subject to those Vices, but withal said he had subdued them by Reason. Therefore, as he that is in the best health, may be thought naturally proner to some Disease or another; so is one mind more inclinable to one Disease, and another to another; but they who are said to be vicious, not from Nature, but through their own default, their Vices consist of misapprehensions about things good and, bad; so that one is proner to one Motion and Passion, and another to another; but evil habits in Souls, as Chronical Distempers in Bodies are more difficult to be removed, than a simple disorder; and a sudden swelling of the Eyes is sooner cured, than a long soreness is removed.  

(a) After he had killed his Friend Clitus.] Alexander the Great, who subdued all things that stood in his way, yet was vanquished by Wine and Anger. On a time as he was drinking with his Commanders, Clitus had magnified the Actions of King Philip, which he took as done in Derogation to his Glory, and run him through with his Spear; but when he came to himself, and his Passion was over, he was so troubled at the barbarous Act, that he was ready to turn the same Spear against his own Heart, tore his Face, and begged of all about him, that they would not let him survive that infamy. Three days he stirred not out of his Tent, and could hardly he prevailed upon to take any more sustenance, but by the intercession of his Friends, and especially the Counsels of calisthenes, he was brought again to some comfortable quiet of mind. Clitus was the Son of Alexander's Nurse, an old Soldier of King Philip, and who in the Battle of Granicus, had protected with his Shield King Alexander, fight bareheaded, and cut off the hand of Rhosaces lifted up against the King's Head, with many other honourable Exploits.    

SECT. XXXVIII. The cure of them in rectifying that mistake.  
BUT the cause of the Passions being already found, that they all arise from Judgements formed upon Opinions, and our Wills, let this Dispute draw to a Conclusion. We must likewise know, that after the knowledge of the Extremities of Good and Evil, as far as Humane Nature is capable of it, nothing can be looked for from Philosophy, either greater or more useful, than the Subject of these four days Disputation; for after the contempt of Death, and reducing Pain within the bounds of Patience, we have added a quieting of Discontent; than which, man hath no greater Evil; for although every Distemper of mind is grievous, and doth not much differ from madness, yet are we wont to term other Persons, when they are in any Passion, either of Fear, or Mirth, or Lust, as only stirred or disordered; but those who have abandoned themselves to Discontent, miserable, afflicted, melancholy, calamitous: Therefore it seems not to have been casual, but with good judgement propounded by you, for us to dispute about Discontent apart from the other Passions; for in that is the source and spring of Miseries. But the cure both of Discontent and the other Diseases of the Soul is one, that they are all from conceit and voluntary, and taken up for this reason, because it seems fitting so to do. Philosophy undertakes to extirpate this Error, as the root of all our Evils: Let us then resign ourselves up to her culture, and be content to be cured; for whilst these evils lurk in us, we are so far from a possibility of being happy, that we cannot be so much as in our Wits. Therefore either let us deny that any thing can be effected by reason, whereas on the contrary, nothing can be well done without reason, or seeing Philosophy consists in a deduction of Reasons, if we would be both good and happy, let us fetch from thence all the aids and assistances, to a good and happy Life.    

The chief End of Man. The Preamble Sect. 1, 2, 3, 4.  
Book V.  

SECT. I. The efficacy of Virtue is not to be valued by our faint-heartedness.  
THIS fifth day, most worthy Brutus, will put an end to our Tusculan Disputations, on which day was debated, that which of all Subjects you most approve; for I perceive by that Book which you writ to me with great exactness, and your many Discourses, that you are zealously of the opinion that Virtue is selfsufficient to Happiness; which though it be hard to demonstrate, by reason of the many and divers Tortures by Fortune inflicted; yet is it of such moment, that it deserves all pains to be employed, in order to the clearing of it up; since there is nothing treated of in all Philosophy, which is more Grave and Gallant to maintain; for whereas that was their Motive, who first applied to the Study of Philosophy, to cast all their other business aside, and put themselves wholly upon searching out the best State of Life; certainly they laid out so much care and pains in that Study, out of hopes to live happily. Now if Virtue have been by them completely stated, and if an interest in Virtue be sufficient to happiness of Life, who is there but must think that the Pains in studying Philosophy, was to excellent purpose both laid out by them, and undertaken by us; but if Virtue exposed to divers and uncertain hazards, be the handmaid of Fortune, and not of Power enough to defend itself; I fear we must rather pray for happiness, than aspire to it in any assurance of Virtue. And in truth when I consider within myself those changes wherein Fortune hath greatly exercised me; I begin to call this opinion into some question; and at times to dread the weakness and frailty of Mankind; for I fear, as Nature hath given us feeble Bodies, and fastened to them both incurable Diseases, and intolerable Pains; so lest she have given us Souls also, both jointly sympathising with bodily Pains, and severally encumbered with Disquiets and anguishs of their own. But herein I correct myself, that I judge of the strength of Virtue, by the softness of others, and perhaps my own, not by Virtue itself. For that, if any such thing there be as Virtue (which, Brutus, your Uncle put out of doubt) counts all things incident to man beneath itself, and looks down upon the changes of Humane Life with contempt; for, being utterly blameless, it chargeth itself with no other concern, than to preserve its own integrity. But we both increasing all future Adversities with Fear, and present ones with Vexation, choose rather to condemn Nature, than acknowledge our own Error.  


(a) I fear we must rather pray for Happiness, than aspire to it in any assurance of Virtue.] That man was ordained to Virtue and Happiness is evident; that our Nature was originally perfect, and to act according to it, had been sufficient to the attaining to that end, cannot, I think, justly he denied, that our Reasons and Wills are yet the Powers and Faculties by which only we can act as Men. What is said here, I fear we must rather pray for Happiness, than aspire to it in any assurance, is undoubtedly a Proverbial Loquntion to this purpose. We must cry out God help us, and surcease all endeavours of our own; which is unwarrantable, as tending to discourage Industry. In a Storm the Pilot must not quit the Stern, nor other Seamen their Quarter, as they expect the Ship should ever be safe. Since our Nature is depraved, could we retrieve lost Perfection, it were not of itself sufficient to the recovery of Happiness, because the non-incurring a new Debt, doth not quit the old Arrear; yet have we grounds of hope, that sincerity of endeavours shall not want acceptance, through another Covenant vouchsafed to Mankind.   

(b) Which Brutus, your Uncle.] M. Porcius Cato Uticensis, the Brother of Servilia Mother to Brutus.     

CHAP. II. Philosophy is the Rule of Life.  
BUT the whole correcting both of this fault, and all other our Vices and Misdemeanours is to be fetched from Philosophy, into whose bosom our Choice and Affections having guided us from our very Childhood, we after being tossed with a great Storm, are fled upon these most grievous turns of State, into the same Harbour from whence we had put forth. O Philosophy thou Guide of Life, Instructress in Virtue, and Correctress of Vices, what could not only we be, but the very Life of men without thee? thou hast founded Cities; thou hast invited scattered men to live in Communities; thou hast linked them one to another, first in Habitations, then in Marriages, and then in Communication by Letters and Words; thou wast the Inventress of Laws; thou the Mistress of Manners and Discipline; we fly to thee; seek help from thee; to thee we commit ourselves, as formerly in great part, so now entirely and in whole; for one day led well, and according to thy Precepts, is to be preferred before an immortality in Vice. Whose succours therefore should we rather make use of than thine, who hast both freely bestowed on us Tranquillity of Life, and taken away from us the Terror of Death; yet Philosophy is so far from receiving Praise suitable to the Benefits she hath conferred on man's Life; that she is by the most slighted, nay by many reviled. O that any one should dare to vilify the Parent of Life, and slain his Conscience with such Parricide! should offer to be so unnatural and ungrateful, as to accuse her, whom he ought to reverence, although he could not comprehend; but this error, and gross darkness is, in my opinion, cast over the minds of the ignorant, because they are not able to look so far backwards; nor do think, that they were the Philosophers by whom first the Life of men was civilised. Which thing, though we see to have been most ancient, yet we confess the name to be but modern.   

SECT. III. The Study of Wisdom of the same standing with man.  
FOR as to Wisdom, who can deny it to be ancient, not for the thing only, but also the name, which acquired this honourable name among the Ancients, from the knowing of Divine and Humane things; as also the Elements and Causes of every being. Therefore have we received by Tradition, of those seven, that they were both named and accounted Sages by the Greeks, and wise men by our Countrymen; and many Ages before, of Lycurgus, in whose time Homer is said to have been before the building of Rome; and in the Heroical Ages of Ulysses and Nestor, that they both truly were, and were reputed such. Nor would there have been the Tradition that Atlas supported Heaven, nor that Prometheus was fastened to Caucasus, nor that Cephus with his Wife, Son in Law, and Daughter, were made Constellations, had not the Divine Knowledge of the Celestial Bodies and Motions raised the Fable upon their name; from whom in order descending, all those who sequestered themselves to the Contemplation of Nature, were both accounted and termed wise, and that name of theirs continued down to the Age of Pythagoras, who, as writes Heraclides Ponticus, an Auditor of Plato, and very learned Person, they report to have come to Phlius, and to have had some learned and free Discourse with Leon Prince of the Phliasians, whose Wit and Eloquence Leon admiring, asked of him, what Trade he particularly followed; who replied, that he understood no Trade, but was a Philosopher; that Leon wondering at the Novelty of the Name, enquired who these Philosophers were, and wherein they differed from other men; then that Pythagoras answered, he looked upon the Life of men, to be like that Mart which was held at the Preparation, for the greatest Games in the Confluence of all Greece. For as at that place some sought for Glory, and the prize of a Garland by bodily Exercises; others were attracted by Profit in buying and selling; but that there was a third sort of them, and that the most ingenuous, who neither sought for applause, nor gain, but come merely to be Spectators, and beheld attentively what was performed, and how. In like manner we, as in some concourse to a Fair, held without any City, being so come from another Life and Nature, into this World, do some of us drudge after Glory, others after Money; that some few there are, who slighting all other things, diligently contemplated the Nature of the Universe; these he called Lovers of Wisdom, that is Philosophers; and as in that other case it was most gentile to look on, without any Gain to ones self; so in this Life, that the Contemplation and Knowledge of Nature, was to be preferred far before all other Studies.  


(c) Lycurgus, in whose time Homer is said to have been.] Reputed both to have lived about the middle Age between the Destruction of Troy, and the Building of Rome; which time the Alban Kings reigned upward of three hundred years, as some four hundred.   

(d) The Building of Rome.] Which falls into the first year of the seventh Olympiad.   

(e) Prometheus fastened to Caucasus.] Because he had his Observatory on the top of that Mountain in Asia; and first taught the Assyrians Astronomy; as Atlas in Lybia, the Inventor of the Globe.   

(f) Cepheus with his Wife, Son in Law, and Daughter.] Cepheus was King of the Aethiopians, his Wife Cassiopea, Daughter Andromeda, and Son in Law Perseus, all Celestial Constellations.   

(g) Heraclides Ponticus.] An eminent Physician relates this in his Treatise upon the Virgin that lay many days breathless, and afterwards returned to Life.   

(h) Phlius.] A City of the Sicyonians near Corinth.     

SECT. IV. Pythagoras Founder of the Italian Sect.  
NOR was Pythagoras only Inventor of the Name, but also enlarger of the Notion; who having after this Discourse at Phlius, come into Italy, adorned that Greece, which was called the Great, both in private and public, with most excellent Arts and Ordinances; about whose Discipline another occasion of discoursing may perhaps occur. But, by the ancient Philosophers, down to Socrates numbers and motions were handled, and whence all things were generated, and whether they were resolved. Also the magnitudes, distances; courses of the Stars were diligently observed, and the whole Celestial Globe. But Socrates was the first that fetched down Philosophy from Heaven, and lodged it in Cities, nay introduced it into Houses, and obliged it to inquire after Life and Manners, what things are Good, and what Evil. Whose manifold Form of arguing, variety of Subjects, and excellency of Wit, being consecrated by the elegant Records of Plato, hath produced many Sects of Dissenting Philosophers: From amongst which, we have especially espoused that which we think Socrates used, to conceal our own opinion, to undeceive others, and in every Dispute to inquire what carried the fairest appearance of Truth. This Custom as Carneades held with great subtlety and copiousness, so have we done both often elsewhere; and lastly in our place at Tusculum, to dispute after the same Fashion. And as to four days Debate, we have penned and sent it to you in the former Books. But on the fifth day, when we had taken our Seats in the same place, it was thus propounded upon what we should Dispute.   

SECT. V. The Position holds, that in the Proposers judgement, Virtue alone is not sufficient to Happiness.  S. 
I Do not think Virtue to be sufficient to Happiness.  M. 
But, truly, my Friend Brutus thinks it is so; whose judgement, without offence to you be it spoken, I far prefer before yours.  S. 
I question it not; nor is that the matter now in Debate, what kindness we have for him; but the merit of this, which I said was my opinion; upon which I would have disputed by you.  M. 
Why, you say Virtue is not sufficient to Happiness of Life.  S. 
I say clearly it is not.  M. 
What? is there in Virtue sufficient Interest to live uprightly, honestly, commendably, lastly well.  S. 
Undoubtedly there is.  M. 
Can you then either choose but call him miserable, who lives ill, or deny that he lives happily, whom you confess to live well.  S. 
Why may I not? for one may live uprightly, honestly, commendably, and in that Sense well even upon the Rack; so you understand by it, what at present I mean by it, Constancy, Gravity, Courage, Wisdom. These things are put even upon the Rack, whether an happy Life cannot aspire.  M. 
What then doth a happy Life only tarry without Doors, and doth not turn the Prisons Key, when Constancy, Gravity, Wisdom, Fortitude, and the other Virtues are carried away to the Tormentors, and decline neither any Punishment, nor Pain?  S. 
You must look out now, if you think to do any good. These Suggestions weigh nothing with me, not only because they are common, but much more, because like some thin Winds they cannot bear Water. So these Stoical Paradoxes are better to taste than to drink. Just so that Choir of Virtues put upon the Rack, sets goodly Representations before the Eyes; so that Happiness of Life seems ready to run after them, nor to endure that they should be left behind her; but when you have taken off your mind from this Picture, and these Images of Virtues to Reality and Truth; this bare consideration is left, whether a man can be happy as long as he is upon the Rack. Wherefore let that be our present Enquiry, and never fear lest the Virtues should take it amiss, and complain that they were deserted by Happiness of Life. For if no Virtue be without Prudence, Prudence itself perceives this, that all good men are not also Happy; and recounts much of M. Attilius, Qu. Cepio, M. aquilius; and if Happiness, being deluded by Appearances rather than Realities, would offer to venture upon the Rack; Prudence itself holds it back, and denies that it is any ways compatible with Pain and Torment.  


ay Whether an happy Life cannot aspire.] It is a byword charged upon Theophrastus; and indeed if hopes did determine with this Life, it were hard to reconcile Blessedness with Torments. But in differing respects, if Blessedness consist in the Favour of God; that Pain which turns to the account of incomparably greater Joy, cannot hinder from the present title to Bliss, and future possession of it; but to say, with Epicurus, that Pain is for the present delightful, contradicts common Sense and Experience.   

(k) M. Attilius.] M. Attilius Regulus circumvented by the Carthaginians and overthrown, was sent upon his Parole to the Senate, to treat for the Exchange of Prisoners, which he judging neither honourable nor advantageous dissuaded, and to quit his Faith, returned to endure all the Tortures which the Wit and Malice of the Moor could inflict, all which he suffered with unshaken Resolution.   

(l) Qu. Caepio.] Qu. Servilius Caepio was Consul the year that Tully was born; and the following year after, an unfortunate Engagement with the Cimbrians, his Commission was taken away, Goods confiscated, and he banished at the motion of C. Norbanus Tribune to the disgust of the honest Party.   

(m) M. aquilius.] He conquered the Slaves in Sicily, rebelling under Athenio, and relieved that Province, was Consul when Tully was six years old; accused by L. Fusius, defended by M. Antony, was absolved in consideration of his former good Service.     

SECT. VI Peace of mind ariseth from Virtue alone.  M. 
I Am well content you proceed that way, although it is not fair for you to prescribe me what course you would have me take in disputing. But I inquire whether we think there hath been any success, or none in the former days Debates?  S. 
Success? assuredly, and that considerable too?  M. 
Why then this question is already made out, and almost brought to a final Determination.  S. 
How so, I pray?  M. 
Because the boisterous motions and toss of Souls raised, and elevated with an inconsiderate Violence, repelling all Reason, leave no room for Happiness of Life; for what man under the dread of Death or Pain; the one of which is often incumbent, the other always impending, can be other than miserable? what if the same Person (as it often falls out) fears, Poverty, Ignominy, Disgrace? if Lameness, Blindness? if lastly that which is not only incident to single Persons, but often to mighty Nations, Slavery, can any one who Fears these things be Happy? What, if he not only fear them as future, but also feel and bear them being present? add to the Sum Banishments, Mournings, los●es of Children. He that is broken with Discontent upon these occasions, can he choose but come to be most miserable? What too can we say of him whom we see inflamed and mad with Lust, raving after all things with insatiable Concupiscence, and the more plentifully he swallows down Pleasures on every hand, the more eagerly and with greater Ardour thirsting after them; what can one truly say of him, but that he is most miserable? what of that other lightly exalted, and with empty Mirth both frolicking, and idly transported; is he not so much the more miserable, as he takes himself to be more happy? Therefore, as these are miserable, so on the contrary are they Happy, whom no Fears alarm, no Troubles fret, no Lusts incense, no vain Mirths melt down, exulting with transitory Pleasures. As therefore a Calm at Sea is understood, when the least breath of Wind doth not stir the Waves; so is the quiet and peaceful State of the mind beheld, when there is no Passion, upon which it may be discomposed. Which being so, he that counts the Power of Fortune, and that esteems all possible accidents of Humane Life to be tolerable; whereupon neither dread nor anguish come near to touch him; and if the same Person covet nothing, be puffed up with no empty Pleasure of the Soul; what reason is there he should not be happy? and if these things are effected by Virtue, what reason is there, why pure Virtue cannot of itself make men happy?   

SECT. VII. In Moral Subjects we must dilate on the Proofs.  S. 
WHY as for the first, it cannot be denied, but they who fear nothing, have no trouble of mind upon them, covet nothing, are not elevated with any inordinate Mirth, must be happy; that therefore I grant you, but as for the other, it is no longer at my disposal, for it hath been concluded upon in the former Debates, that a Wise man is free from all Passion.  M. 
Why? then the matter is over, for the question seems to be fully determined.  S. 
It doth well nigh to be so.  M. 
But that is the way in Mathematics, not Philosophy, for when Geometricians would demonstrate any thing, if there be somewhat in order to prove the matter in question, amongst what they have before demonstrated, that they take for granted and proved; they only make out what hath not been proposed before: Philosophers, whatever matter they have in hand, heap up all that which is agreed upon in common, towards the eviction of that matter, however they have been elsewhere debated. Were it not so, why should a Stoic need to say much, if it should be proposed whether Virtue be sufficient to Happiness of Life; it would be enough for him to answer, he had before demonstrated, nothing to be good, but what was honest; this being proved, it to be consequent that Happiness of Life is contented with Virtue; and as this is to that, so that to be consequent to this, that if Happiness of Life be contented with Virtue, nothing else is good but what is honest. But they do not proceed after this sort; for their Books of Honesty, and of the chief Good, are apart; and although it be rightly deducible thence, that there is sufficiency in Virtue, to render the Life happy; yet they treat severally of it; for every matter is to be handled by its proper and natural Arguments and Motives; especially one of so great Importance; for you are much mistaken if you think any expression in all Philosophy more glorious, or that there is any promise of Philosophy either more profitable or honourable; for what doth she profess? O wonderful! that she will make good, whoever obeys her Laws, shall always be armed against Fortune, shall have all warranties in himself, of a good and happy Life; in a word, shall ever be blessed. But let me advise with myself, what she performs. However in the mean time I much value what she undertakes; for Xerxes being crammed with all the Bribes and Gifts of Fortune, yet not being contented with Cavalry, nor Infantry, nor multitude of Shipping, nor an infinite quantity of Gold propounded a reward to him that should find out any new Pleasure. Nor was he contented with that, for Lust can never be bounded; I wish we could at any reward invite one to furnish us any Argument, more firmly to believe this undertaking of Philosophy.   

SECT. VIII. Whether Virtue alone be sufficient to Happiness, but not complete Happiness.  S. 
I Wish it indeed, but there is somewhat wherein I am dissatisfied; for I submit that of the Positions you have made, one is consequent to the other, that as if what thing be honest, that only is good, it followeth that an happy Life is effected by Virtue; so if an happy Life consists in Virtue, nothing is good but Virtue. But your Friend Brutus, upon the Principle of Aristus and Antiochus, hath not the same Sentiment; for he thinks, although there be something else good besides Virtue.  M. 
How now? do you think I will speak any thing in opposition to Brutus?  S. 
Nay, for that as you please; for it is not my part to direct you.  M. 
What then is consequent upon what Supposition, refer to another place; for that was a difference between me and Antiochus often, and lately with Aristus, when being General I lodged at his House; for I did not think any man could be happy in the midst of Evils; but that a Wise man might be in the midst of Evils, if there were any corporal or external Evils. These things were discoursed, which Antiochus hath also written in many places, that Virtue of itself can effect an happy Life, but not the most happy; then that, most things were denominated from their major part, although some part of them were wanting, as Strength, Health, Riches, Honour, Glory, which are judged by their nature, not their number, in like manner a happy Life, though it were in some part deficient, yet gained its name from far the greater part. To examine these things particularly, is not at present very necessary, although to me, they seem to be spoken not over-consistently. For I neither understand what he that is happy needs to make him more happy, (for if he want any thing, he is not happy) and for the denomination and estimate of every thing, from its greater part, sometimes that may be in force so to do, but when they say there are three sorts of Evils, he that is pressed with all Evils, of two of these sorts, so as to have all crossed in his Estate; a Body oppressed and worn out with all Diseases; shall we say he wants but a little of an happy Life, not only of one most happy? This is that which Theophrastus could not maintain; for having resolved that Stripes, Racking, Crucifixions, Overthrows of our Country, Banishments, Losses of Children, had great influence on living ill and miserably, he durst not speak big and loftily, having entertained mean and low Sentiments.  


(n) But your Friend Brutus, upon the Principle of Aristus and Antiochus.] Tully had before Section 5. checked his Auditor with the Authority of Brutus, that Virtue was sufficient to render Life happy; therefore there was no other good, he now retorts that Authority upon him; for Brutus having heard Antiochus of Ashketon, and afterwards his Brother Aristus held, that Virtue was not sufficient to render Life most happy. Antiochus had been Auditor of Philo, but set up a new Academy, which brought in a Syncretism of Stoics, with Peripatetics; this Tully impugns, and supports the Person of a rigid Stoic.   

(o) When being General, I lodged at his House.] In his return from his Government of Asia, for having there routed a Party of High-land Cilicians, and taken their Town Pindenissum, he was by the Army saluted General in the Field, after the old Roman fashion, carried his Lictors with their Bundles garnished with Laurel to Athens homeward, took up his Quarters with Aristus there, and assayed to enter Rome in Triumph.   

(p) For if he want any thing he is not happy.] In this Life, as Virtue is imperfect, so is Happiness incomplete.     

SECT. IX. Of the three sorts of Goods.  
HOW well, is not the question; sure it is consistently with his Principles. Therefore I am not wont to like a denying the consequent of that, the antecedent whereof you have granted. Now this most elegant and learned of all the Philosophers, is not much censured for holding three sorts of Goods; but he is baited by all first, for that Book which he writ of an Happy Life; wherein he brings many Arguments, why a man in Torture, and upon the Cross, cannot be Happy; in the same Book he is also reputed to say, that Happiness of Life, cannot come upon the Wheel. He no where saith that in Terms, but what he saith amounts to as much. Can I then, after I have granted one, that bodily Pains are Evils, that Shipwrecks of Estate are Evils; can I be angry with that man, for saying that all good men are not Happy, when all good men are liable to those things which he accounts Evils? the same Theophrastus is further harassed, both by the Books, and Disputations of all the Philosophers for quoting that Sentence in his calisthenes.  Fortune, not Wisdom, guide the Life of man. 
They say never came more lasche word out of the mouth of Philosopher; and true it is, what they say, yet I do not understand how any thing could have been more consistent; for if there are so many good things belonging to the Body, so many extrinsic to it, all under the Power of chance and Fortune, is it not naturally consequent upon this Principle, that Fortune, who is Mistress both of external Circumstances, and corporal endowments, should have a larger Empire, than Humane Counsels? or had we better imitate Epicurus? who oftentimes speaks many excellent things, but careth not how agreeable they are, or consistent with his Principles. He commends a slender Diet: Done like a Philosopher; but if Socrates or Antisthenes had said it, not he who maintains Pleasure to be the chiefest Good. He saith none can live pleasantly, unless he live also honestly, wisely, justly. No word can be more Grave and becoming a Philosopher, unless the same man did make Pleasure the end of his Honesty, Wisdom, and Justice. What can be better said, than that Fortune hath little dealing with a Wise man? but doth he say so, who having affirmed Pain to be not only the greatest, but also the only Evil, may be seized upon with the sharpest Pains all his Body over at that very time when he is in his highest Rants against Fortune? The same too saith Metrodorus, and in better words yet. Fortune, I have prevented you, and barricadoed up all the Avenues, that you can no ways attack me. Excellently well had Aristo the Cian, or the Stoic Zeno said it, who accounted nothing Evil, but what was Dishonest. But you Metrodorus, who have buried all your Good in Back and Belly, having defined the chief Good to consist in a firm Constitution of Body, and a strong Presumption of its continuance, have you barred up the Avenues against Fortune? which way? for you may in a Moment be stripped of that your Good.  

(q) Aristo the Cian.] Of Ceos Isle. He held all things beside Virtue and Vice indifferent.    

SECT. X. The Peripatetics accused of inconsistency, but Epicurus much more.  
YET unwary men are taken with these Flashes; and by means of such fine Speeches, multitudes of Disciples are drawn after them. But it is the part of a subtle Disputant, not to regard what any one says, but what he should say. As in that very Tenet which we have undertaken in this Dispute, we would have all good men to be always happy. What I mean by good men is manifest, for we call men accomplished and adorned with all Virtues, sometimes Wise and sometimes Good men. Who are to be called happy, let us consider. I indeed think these who are possessed of Goods, without any Evil added thereto. Nor is there any other Notion couched under this word, when we say a Happy man, but an Accumulation of all Goods, without the mixture of any Evils. Virtue cannot attain to this, if there be any thing good besides itself. For there will press in a throng of Evils, if we count these Evils, Poverty, obscurity of Parentage, Lowness, Destitution, loss of Friends and Relations, grievous Pains of Body, decay in Health, Maims, Blindness, Destruction of ones Country, Banishment, Slavery. Lastly, a Wise man may be in these so many and so great Evils, and those many more which may happen; for chance inflicts them, which may fall foul on a Wise man. But if these things are Evil, who can warrant that a Wise man shall always be happy, when he may be even under all these at one time? Therefore I do not easily yield it to my Friend Brutus, nor the Teachers of us both, nor those Ancients, Aristotle; Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemo, that having taken the things above-recounted for Evils, they should yet hold a Wise man to be always happy. But if they be taken with this plausible and specious Privilege, fitting to be claimed by Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, let them be contented to despise Strength, Health, Beauty, Riches, Honours, Wealth, with the Lustre of which, they are so much dazzled, and utterly to slight their Contraries. Then may they proclaim with the most loud Voice, that they are neither terrified at the insults of Fortue, nor the displeasure of the Multitude, nor Pain, nor Poverty; and that all their Dependencies are on themselves; nor is there any thing without the Power of their own choice, which they reckon for good. Nor can it any ways be granted, that one Person should speak after this rate, suitable to some great and losty Spirit; and withal, account for Good and Evil, the same things which the Vulgar doth, Epicurus proselyted with this glorious Doctrine, sets up; and his Wise man, in good time, must be ever Happy. He is taken with the Dignity of this Assertion, but would never say so, if he were true to himself; for what is less agreeable, than that he who saith Pain is either the greatest or only Evil, should likewise hold, that a Wise man, when he is racked with Pain, should say, Oh! how sweet this is? Therefore Philosophers are not to be estimated by some single expression, but by the constant Tenor and Analogy of their Doctrines.  


(r) We would have all good men to be always Happy.] That is in a State of Happiness in every condition; having a Title to the paternal Providence of God upon his Promise. Had man persevered in Primitive Righteousness; his Body would have been passable, and the operativeness of external Agents no less efficacious; so that his security must have been in the Divine Protection from harmful Casualties, and supply of needful Enjoyments. When there is argued from perfect Virtue, to complete Happiness, the Divine Favour and Bounty must necessarily be included; for when we say Virtue is its own reward, it is not intended that the Virtuous have their Labours for their Pains. Complacency of mind in fulfilling a Law, ariseth from the Sense of our having promoted the ends of it in mutual Preservation; and consequently our own; or in having acquired the good Graces of the Lawgiver by Obedience; but to solve the doubt, why ever it should go ill with the Good, as it is often seen to do; we must partly discount for the Defects of Goodness here, and consider temporary Evils in such, ordered for the bettering of the mind.   

(s) Nor the Teachers of us both.] Antiochus and Aristus.   

(t) Nor those Ancients, Aristotle.] These were Doctors of the Peripatetic Chair. Aristotle considering that man is made up of Soul and Body, which requires Necessaries and Conveniencies of Life, when he was in quest of the Good of Man, concluded it to be conjunctly in the Mind, together with the Body and external Circumstances. Health and competent subsistence all men desire, and Aristotle defineth that to be good, which all men desire. To undervalue the Benefits of God, who is Good and doth Good, restrains Prayer, and suppresses Gratitude; as in the Tenet of Aristo holding all other things, besides Virtue, indifferent; but how then can the good man ensure his Happiness? These Goods he pursues ordinately, useth with Moderation, and wants without Impatience; he can be no otherwise self-dependent, than by linking his Will to the ever-blessed Will of a Superior Wisdom. Zeno denied bodily Inflictions and Misfortunes to be evil, from ignorance of their being Penalties for the Violation of the Divine Law; but to the truly Good their Nature is changed, their Evil taken away, and they made serviceable for Good.     

SECT. XI. That the Stoics cavil about Words.  S. 
YOU induce me to give you my assent; but take heed lest your consistency too be not questionable.  M. 
How so?  S. 
Because I have lately read over your fourth Book, about the several Opinions concerning the chief Good; in that, disputing against Cato, you seemed to me to endeavour to show what I extremely like, that there is no difference between Zeno and the Peripatetics, but a novelty of Terms. If this be so, what reason is there, but if Zeno thinks it reasonable, that there is in Virtue, sufficiency to Happiness of Life, the Peripatetics may say the same? for, I think, reality, not words, aught to be regarded.  M. 
Why, you take of me a Bill under Hand and Seal, and call Witnesses to what I said or writ at any time. Deal so with others who Dispute under Articles subscribed; we live from hand to mouth, whatsoever smites us with an appearance of Truth, that we allow. Therefore we only are free; but since we spoke a little before of consistency, I do not think it to be at this time the enquiry whether that which Zeno and his Auditor Aristo held be true, that only which is Honest to be good; but, if it were so, then to place the whole Happiness of Life in Virtue alone. Wherefore let us yield this to Brutus, that a Wise man is always happy; how agreeable it is to his Principles, he must look to that. What man is more worthy the Glory of this Assertion? Yet let us hold that the same Wise man is most Happy, although Zeno of Cittium, a certain Forreigner, and ignoble, but Forger of Terms, seems to have wrought himself slily into the ancient Philosophy.   

SECT. XII. That nothing should be called Good but Virtue, is vindicated to have been the Tenet of Socrates.  
THE Gravity of this Opinion, is to be fetched from the Authority of Plato; in whom oftentimes this expression is found, that nothing is to be called Good but Virtue, as in his Dialogue called Gorgias. Socrates, when he had been asked whether he did not think Archelaus the Son of Perdiccas, who was then accounted most Fortunate, to be Happy; I cannot tell, saith he, for I never spoke with the Man. What of that? can you come no other way to know it? No other; than you cannot tell of the Great King of Persia, whether he be Happy? Can I do it, when I know not how he is for Learning, how for Justice? What? do you think Happiness of Life consists in that? I am clear of the mind, that the Good are Happy, the Wicked Miserable. Is Archelaus then miserable? Certainly, if he be unjust. Do you not think he places the whole of an Happy Life, in Virtue alone? But what saith he in his Funeral Dialogue? The man who hath all the necessaries to Happiness of Life, bound up in himself, so that they are not suspended on the good or bad success of any other; and he by that means constrained to waver, hath the best course of Life insured. This is that Moderate, this that Valiant, this that Wise man; this, if Riches, if Children increase or fail, will still observe the old Proverb, neither to be excessive in Joy nor Sorrow; because all his Interests are depending on his own Soul.   

SECT. XIII. Nature hath produced all things perfect in themselves.  
FROM this therefore, as it were Holy and Venerable Fountain of Plato, shall our whole ensuing Discourse take its source. And now whence can we more orderly begin, than from Nature our common Parent, who hath taken care that all her Productions, not only the living Creature, but also the very Plant which so Springs from the Earth, as to abide firm on its Stock and Root, should be every one in their respective kind perfect. Therefore both Trees and Vines, and those Plants which are lower, nor can advance themselves to any height from the Earth, some of them are ever Green, others stand bare all Winter, but warmed in the Spring, shoot forth Leaves afresh; nor is there any one which hath not such an inward Vegetation, that it bears either Blossoms, or Fruits, or Berries with Seeds locked up in all, after their proper kind. So that every thing in all, as far as in them lies, if no external Violence impeach, are perfect. The Power of Nature may yet more easily be discerned in Brutes, because Sense is given them by Nature; for she designed some of these Creatures for Swimming, which were to be Inhabitants of the Water; others for flying, which were to sport in the open Air; some to creep, others to go; and of these last, some to range alone, others to herd together; some wild, and others tame: Lastly, some to dwell in holes and caverns under ground. Now every one of these having its proper work allotted, cannot pass over into the life of another Creature, but abides in the Ordinance of its own Nature. And as one advantage is given by Nature to one Beast, and another to another, which peculiar it holds fast, nor swerves from it; so hath man somewhat far more excellent; (although those things may be said to excel, which admit of some comparison;) but the Soul of man being derived from the Divine Spirit, with all Humility be it spoken, can be compared with no other thing, but God himself. This therefore, if it be cultivated, and if its sight be kept pure, so as not to be blinded with Errors, becomes a perfect understanding, that is, right Reason, which is the same as Virtue. And if every thing be Happy, which wants nothing, and which is in its own kind accomplished to the highest; and this be the property of Virtue; in truth all virtuous Persons are Happy. And in this Point, I and Brutus are agreed; so also is Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo. But in my opinion they are also most happy; for what doth he want to an Happy Life, who hath Assurance of his Goods? or how can he be Happy, who hath no Assurance of them?  


(u) Should be every one in their respective kind perfect.] A Testimony to the original goodness of all things in their Creation.   

(w) Can be compared with no other thing but God himself.] The Divine Original, and incomparable Excellency of the Soul, is here acknowledged, which the whole World cannot countervail.     

SECT. XIV. The Perfection of man is properly in his mind.  
BUT he must needs have no Assurance, who divides his Goods into three parts. For how can he rely either upon firmness of Body, or steadfastness of Fortune? But none can be Happy, unless in the enjoyment of a steadfast, fixed, and permanent good. Now what of those mentioned, is of such Nature? so that the Saying of that Spartan, seems very apposite to such men, who when a certain Merchant bragged that he had many Ventures to all Ports, whither men traded, replied, I do not in truth envy that Fortune which is tacked upon Cables. Is it any question, but that nothing is to be taken into the number of those things which constitute a Happy Life, that can be lost? for nothing that is the ingredient of an Happy Life, must neither fade, nor be destroyed, nor decay. For he who shall fear the losing any of them, can never be Happy; for we would have him who is to be Happy safe, impregnable, fortified, and provided, not so as to be without much Fear, but any at all. For as he is called Innocent, not who is slightly harmful, but wholly harmless; so is he to be held undaunted, not who Fears little, but who is wholly fearless; for what is Fortitude else, but a disposition of mind, both firm in confronting danger, and sustaining Labour and Pain; as also free from all Fear? Now these things to be sure, could not be so, unless all goodness consisted in honesty alone. Since how can any man have that most blessed and desirable Security (I call now Security a Freedom from Disquiet, wherein Happiness of Life consists) who is either under a multitude of Evils, or liable to be so? Further, how can he be brave and gallant, and slighting all the possible Contingencies of Humane Life, such as we would have our Wise man be, unless he should think all his sufficiency lodged in himself? Could the Lacedæmonians demand of Philip, menacing by Letters, that he would hinder all their attempts, whether he would hinder them also from dying; and shall not the man whom we seek, be much easier found so minded, than a whole State? What? and if Temperance, which is the Governess of all Passions, be added to this Fortitude whereof we are speaking? What can he want to Happiness of Life, whom Fortitude rescues from Discontent and Fear; and Temperance reclaimeth from Lust, nor suffers to be transported with extravagant Mirth? I would show that Virtue works these effects, had they not been made out in the former days Debates.  


(x) A certain Merchant.] Lampis the Aeginete a part-owner in many Ships. Merchants count it Wisdom not to venture too much in one Bottom, but divide the hazard of the Seas.   

(y) Nothing is to be taken into the number of those things which constitute a happy Life that can be lost.] Cleanthes denied falling away from Virtue: Chrysippus affirmed it. Confirmation in goodness may produce Assurance, but never will security or carelessness; a freedom from servile but not watchful Fear.     

SECT. XV. That only what is Honest is Good.  
NOW since the Disturbances of the Soul render the Life miserable, but the composure of them happy; and there is a double rank of Passions; in that, Discontent and Fear are terminated on Evils conceived; but excessive Mirth and Lust arise from the misapprehension of good things, since all are inconsistent with Advice and Reason, if you shall see any one clear, emancipated, free from these emotions so vehement, so discordant one with the other, and so distracting, can you make any question of calling him Happy? But the Wise man is always so disposed, therefore the Wise man is always Happy. Further every thing that is good is joyous, and what is joyous, is to be proclaimed and avowed; and what is so, is also to be gloried in; but if it be glorious, to be sure it must be praiseworthy; but what is praiseworthy, is also truly honourable; what therefore is good is honourable. But what those men reckon for Goods, they do not themselves say they are honourable. That only therefore is good which is honourable, from whence is concluded, that Happiness of Life consists in Honesty only; which is, the true Honour. Those things are therefore not to be called nor counted good things, in which a man may abound, and yet be most miserable. Do you make any question, but that one exceeding in Health, Strength, Beauty, sound and quick Senses; add further if you please, Activity, and Swiftness; throw in Riches, Honours, Commands, Interest, Glory; if the Possessor of all this be unjust, intemperate, timorous, stupid and senseless, will you make any question of calling him miserable? what sort of Goods than are they which a man may have, and yet be most miserable? Let us consider therefore, whether, as an Heap must consist of single Corns of the same Grain, so an Happy Life must not of parts similar to itself. If this be so, then is Happiness to be an Aggregation of those Goods only which are Honest, if there be any mixture of Dissimilars, Honesty can never denominate the Sum total; which being substracted, what Happiness can be understood remaining? for whatever that be, which is good, that is desirable; and what is desirable, is to be sure to be approved; and what you approve, is to be accounted agreeable and welcome; therefore also is respect to be born to it, which being so, it must needs be commendable; therefore all good is commendable; from whence is concluded, that what is honourable, that only is good. Which unless we maintain, there will be many things which will pretend to the title of Good.   

SECT. XVI. Such as is the Disposition of Mind, such is the Life.  
TO wave Riches, which I do not reckon among good things, since any one never so unworthy may have them. But what is good, that every one cannot have. To pass by Nobility and popular Fame, raised by the consent of Fools and Knaves. These petty Advantages must be called good things, white Teeth, black Eyes, a fresh Colour, and those Graces which Anticlea commends, as she washes the Feet of Ulysses.  Softness of Skin, and gentleness of Speech. 
If we must call these Goods, what will there be sounding more reverend or lofty in the Gravity of a Philosopher, than in the Opinion of the Vulgar, and crowd of Fools? But yet the Stoics call the same things advantageous and preferrible, which these term Good. They do indeed so style them, but do not esteem them perfective of Happiness of Life. But the other think, that without these, not Happy; or if it be, yet will not allow it most Happy. But we would have it to be most Happy; and that is concluded by us, from that Pile of Inferences by Socrates. For thus did that Prince of Philosophers argue. Such as is a man's Disposition of Soul, such is the man; and as is the man, such his Discourse; again his Facts are like his Discourse, and Life like his Facts. But the Disposition in a good man, is commendable; therefore so is a good man's Life too; thereupon honourable too, or honest, because commendable; from whence is inferred, that the Life of the Good is Happy. For I appeal to Gods and men, is it not enough evidenced by our former Debates; or have we discoursed for diversion only and pastime, that a Wise man is always free from every inordinate commotion of Spirit, which I call Passion? that there is always in his mind an undisturbed Peace. Therefore a temperate constant man, without Fear, without Discontent, without any Jollity, without Lust, can he be other than Happy? But a wise man is always such, therefore always Happy. Now how can a good man choose, but make what is commendable, the ultimate end of all his Thoughts and Actions? but he makes Happiness of Life the ultimate end of all: Therefore Happiness of Life is commendable; but there can be nothing commendable without Virtue; therefore Happiness of Life is perfected by Virtue only.  

(z) What is good that every one cannot have.] Understand this in a complex Sense; the Fool cannot at the same time have Prudence; the Oppressor, Justice; the Coward, Fortitude; the Luxurious, Temperance.    

SECT. XVII. Only what may be gloried in is good.  
NOW the same is thus further concluded. Neither is there any thing to be proclaimed or boasted of in a miserable Life, nor in that which is neither miserable nor happy; but there is in some Life somewhat to be proclaimed, gloried in, and openly avowed; as Epaminondas;  Under our conduct Spartas Pride is shaved. 
As Africanus;  
From farthest East, beyond the Scythian Tracts,  
None may compare with Scipio 's mighty Acts.  
Now if a Life be Happy, it is to be avowed, proclaimed and gloried in; for there is nothing else to be proclaimed and gloried in. Upon these Premises you know what follows; and in truth unless that Life be Happy, which is also Honest, there must needs be somewhat better than a Happy Life; for what is Honest, they will certainly confess to be better; so will somewhat come to be better than an Happy Life, which is the greatest Absurdity can be spoken. What? when they confess, that viciousness is sufficient to render the Life unhappy; must not it be confessed, that Virtue hath the same Power to render it Happy; for contrary causes produce contrary effects. In this place, I inquire, what imports that Balance of Critolaus? Who having cast the goods of the mind into one Scale; those of the Body and Fortune into the other, thinks that the Scale of former good does so far outweigh, that it would fetch up Sea and Land if it were thrown in to the opposite towards making even weight.  

(a) Under our conduct Spartas Pride is shaved.] Part of the Epitaph on Epaminondas, who had overrun Sparta for five hundred years untouched. As a Virgin led into Captivity, and shaved for Bondage; he Peopled Messina with a Colony, Fortified Thebes, and left Greece in full Freedom.    

SECT. XVIII. The same was also maintained by the more resolute Peripatetics.  
WHAT then debars either him, or Xenocrates also, the gravest of Philosophers extolling Virtue, and depressing all other things, so much as to vilify them, from placing not only an Happy, but also most Happy Life, in Virtue? which unless it hold good, an utter ruin of the Virtues will ensue; for to whom trouble is incident, Fear must be so likewise of necessity; for Fear is the anxious expectation of future Trouble; and he to whom Fear, there is also incident Irresolution, Timorousness, Consternation, Cowardice, and by consequent for the man sometimes to be conquered, nor to think himself concerned in that admonition of Atreus.  So live resolved, as to be vanquished soorn. 
But the man here supposed will be conquered, as I said, nor conquered only, but also enslaved; whereas we would have Virtue to be always free, always unvanquished; which Properties, if they be not granted, Virtue is taken away; but if Virtue have force enough to Goodness of Life; she hath also enough to Happiness; for to be sure there is in Virtue, force enough for our living valiantly; and if valiantly, then with gallantry of Spirit, so as never to be dismayed at any thing, but always remain invincible. It follows that it knows no remorse, no want, no control: Consequently that it abound in all things, live absolute and prosperously; therefore happily. Now Virtue hath force enough to our living valiantly; therefore also hath it enough to our living happily. For as Folly, although it hath obtained what it lusted after, yet never thinks it hath gotten enough; so Wisdom is always content with what it hath, and never repineth at its own condition.   

SECT. XIX. The Dissimilitude between Virtue and Vice, exemplified in the former Troubles.  
DO you think any comparison to be made between the one Consulship of C. Laelius, and that after a repulse (if, when a wise and good man, such as he was, is repulsed in an Election, the People do not rather miss of a good Magistrate, than he of a good People,) but yet, which had you rather be, if it were at your Choice, once Consul as Laelius, or four times as Cinna? I make no question what you would answer; therefore I consider to whom I put the case. I would not ask every body the same question; for another perhaps would answer that he not only preferred the four Consulships before the one, but one day of Cinna, before the whole Ages of many and brave men. Laelius, if he had laid his least Finger on any one, should have suffered for it; but Cinna commanded to Behead his Fellow-Consul Cn. Octavius, P. Crassus, L. Caesar, Principal of the Nobility, men of tried Abilities both in Peace and War. M. Antony the most Eloquent of all that I ever heard. C. Caesar who seemed to me a Pattern of Courtesy, Wit, Good Nature, Facetiousness. Was he therefore happy who slew these? On the contrary, I take him to be therefore miserable, not only because he did it, but also because he had ordered the matter, so as to have Authority to do it; though no body hath Authority to sin; but we speak improperly through a vulgar abuse of Language, for we say a man doth that by Authority, which he can do without being called to an account for so doing. Pray was C. Marius then happier, when he communicated the Glory of his Cimbrick Victory with Catulus, almost another Laelius (for I take him to have been most like the other) or when being Conqueror in a Civil War, upon the Humble Petition of the Relations of Catulus; he answered in Anger not once, but often, He must die; wherein more Happy was he who submitted to that execrable word, than he who gave so wicked an order. For as it is better to receive, than do an Injury; So is it to go a little way to meet death near approaching, as Catulus did; then what did Marius by the murder of such a Personage, to deface his six Consulships, and pollute his dying Conscience.  


(b) The one Consulship of O Laelius.] With L. Cornelius Scipio, an Eloquent and wise man.   

(c) Four times as Cinna.] A bloody, lewd, and violent Magistrate, when hindered by his Fellow Consul Cnaeus Octavius, from passing unduly some pernicious Laws, he fled Rome, freed Slaves, and called home C. Marius from Africa with other Randiti, stormed Rome, cut off the Head of his Fellow-Consul, and exposed it upon the Rostra, or Pleading-place. P. Crassus' Father and Son were slain, with C. Julius Caesar, and Lucius his Brother; this latter was so facetious, that with his Discourse he so charmed the Soldiers, sent to kill Mark Antony the Orator, that they put up their drawn Swords till Annius a Colonel fell on him, and brought his Head to Marius, which he joyfully received, set on his Table in a Feast, and stuck it afterwards on the Rostra. Cinnd in his Fourth Consulship was stoned by his Soldiers at Ancona for his Cruelty. C. Julius Caesar married his Daughter Cornelia.   

(d) Communicated the Glory of his Cimbrick Victory with Catulus.] In Venice near the Addis, Marius and Catulus fought, the Cimbrians took 60000. and slew about 120000. when his Colleague quitted the Honour of the day to him; so that two Triumphs were decreed him alone; he took in Catulus with him to partake of the Honour. Afterwards he fell out with him, and without harkening to any Intercessors, obliged him to die, which he did, locking himself up into a Chamber, newly plastered over with green Lime, and so departed.   

(e) To deface his six Consulships.] This was acted in his sixth Consulship; the following January he was chosen a seventh time Consul and soon died.     

SECT. XX. The ugliness of Usarpation in Dionysius the Elder; with his Fears.  
EIGHT and thirty years was Dionysius Tyrant over the Syracusans, having usurped the Government at five and twenty year old. He held in Servitude a City of incomparable Beauty, and a State of great Wealth and Alliances. Now we have received from good Authors concerning him, thus recorded, that he was of singular temperance in his Diet, exceeding Politic and Industrious in carrying on business; and yet for all that, of a Nature very malicious and unjust, whence he must needs seem to all that consider truth narrowly, most miserable; for what things he had eagerly coveted after, he did not then obtain, even when he thought himself Sovereign Lord of all. He having been born of creditable Parents, and such as were of good Quality, (though different Authors write differently as to that Point) and abounding in Companions of old acquaintance, and Relations near to him; also having some Youths joined in Love to him, after the manner of Greece, trusted not any of them; but took for his Lifeguard those whom he had picked out from the Servants of wealthy Citizens, and had himself taken from them the name of Servitude; some Foreigners too, and Savage Barbarians. So through an unjust affectation of Dominion, he did in a manner Imprison himself. Nay farther, lest he should entrust his Throat with the Barber, he made his own Daughters learn to Trim. Thus did the Royal Virgins, like Women-Shavers, of a sordid and servile Trade, Trim and Shave their Father, and yet when they came to be of Age, he took from their hands too the Razor, and brought up a Practice of their singeing his Beard and Locks with burning Wall-nut-shells. He also having two Wives Aristomache his own Countrywoman, and Doris of Ocri, he so by night consorted with them, that he had all places spied and searched before, and having contrived a broad. Trench round about the Bed in his Presence Chamber, and laid a wooden Bridge for a Passage over that Trench, which too he drew up when he had looked his Chamber Doors. He also not daring to stand on the common Pulpits, was wont to Harangue the People from the top of a Tower. The same Person having a mind to play at Ball (for he delighted much in that sport) and stripped of his Vest, is said to have delivered his Sword to a Page whom he loved. Hereupon when a certain intimate Friend of his had said in jest, Assuredly you trust your Life with him; and the Youth had smiled at it, he commanded both to be slain, the one because he had showed the way of killing him, and the other because he had approved that notice with a smile; at which action he was so afflicted, that nothing in his Life ever more troubled him; for he had killed his beloved Boy.  


(f) Aristomache his own Countrywoman.] Daughter of Hipparinus, and Sister of Dion.   

(g) And Doris the Locrian.] Mother of Dionysius the younger.     

SECT. XXI. Demonstrated to his Court-flatterer.  
THUS are the Lusts of such as give way to their Passions, distracted into contrary parts. Whilst you obey one, you must Rebel against the other; although this Tyrant past Sentence himself how happy he was; for when one of his Parasites, Damocles, in Discourse with him, fell on magnifying his Wealth, Strength, Majesty of Dominion, Plenty of Estate, Sumptuousness of Royal Palace; Will you then, answers he, Damocles, since you are so taken with this Life, yourself taste of it, and make a proof of my Fortune? upon his replying, that he would with all his heart, he commanded him to be seated on a Golden Couch, with a rich Coverlet, a Tapestry Carpet, Embroidered with curious Figures, in Silks of divers Colours; furnished also several Side-boards with Plate, and Vessels of engraven Gold; then ordered Boys of the most exquisite Beauty, to attend at Table, and diligently watching to run at his least beck: There were precious Ointments, Garlands, Odours were fuming, the Table piled up with most choice Dishes. Damocles thought himself in a Fortunate condition; in the midst of this entertainment, he commanded a drawn Sword fastened by a single Horsehair, to be let down the Ceiling, so as to point at the head of this happy man; so that he could not fix his eyes on those fair Servitors; nor the excellent Workmanship of the Plate; nor reach his hand to the Table; his very Garlands were ready to drop off his Head: In a word, he begged of the Tyrant, leave to be gone, for he was unwilling to be any longer happy. Do you think that Dionysius did not plainly enough declare, that nothing could be happy to the man, who had always some terror impending over him? Now he had put it out of his power, to return to Justice, and restore his Citizens their Laws and Liberties; for whilst he was young in his inconsiderate Age, he had entangled himself in such miscarriages, and committed those enormities, that he could not be safe, had he gone about to be honest.  

(h) Now he had put it out of his Power to return to Justice.] An oblique intimation to Caesar, of the expedience of timely restoring his Country to Liberty.    

SECT. XXII. — and in the consequent of those Fears, want of Friends.  
BUT how much he wanted Friends, whose faithfulness he feared, he declared in that pair of Pythagoreans; for when he had taken one of them surety for the other, bound body for body, and the other, to release his Security, had presented himself at the appointed hour of Execution, I wish, saith he, I might be admitted with you, to make up the Pair of Royal Friends. What a misery must it needs be, to want the Conversation of Friends, Society at Meals, and even familiar Discourse? especially to one a Scholar from a Child, and bred up to ingenuous Arts; particularly as we have by Tradition very Musical; a Tragic Poet; How good, is nothing to the purpose; for in that sort of Pretenders, I know not how it cometh to pass, more than in others, every one thinks his own a Beauty. I never knew Poet yet (and I was acquainted with Aquinius) but he thought himself the best. So stands the case, you like yours, and I mine. But to return to Dionysius, he was debarred all civil and free Converse. He spent his time with Vagrants, with Rogues, with Barbarians; he thought no man, who either deserved freedom, or had a desire to be free, could be Friend to him. I will not therefore now compare with his Life, than which I can imagine nothing more tormenting, wretched, detestable, the Life of Plato, or Archytas, learned and truly wise men.  


ay In that Pair of Pythagoreans.] Damon and Pythias.   

(k) A Tragic Poet; how good, is nothing to the purpose.] Dionysius the Elder was Musical, and Patron of Philoxenus the Harper. He was much addicted to write Tragedies, but unhappy that way, for he obscured his style, with far fetched and frigid Humours and Expressions, yet angry with those who past a true censure on them. Twice his Poems were exploded at the Olympiack Games; a third time they came off with approbation, at the news of which, he is said to have died for joy.     

SECT. XXIII. The praise of a virtuous Life, in Archimedes and the Philosophers.  
I WILL raise up from the Dust, and compass a mean Mechanic of the same City, who lived many years after Archimedes. Whose Tomb, unknown to the Syracusians, who denied that there was any such, I being Questor, searched out, as it was overgrown and invested with Briars and Brambles; for I held in memory some Verses which I had been informed were engraved on his Monument. These declared that on the top of his Tomb, was a Sphere erected with a Cylinder; when I had viewed all about (for at the Agragian Port, is a great number of Sepulchers) I spied a Pillar somewhat raised above the Bushes, on which was the Figure of a Sphere and Cylinder. Then I presently told the Syracusians (at that time the chief of the Town were with me) that I thought that was the thing I looked for; divers with Hand-Bills were sent in, who cleared the place; when an open way was made, we came to the Front of the Base; there appeared an Epigram, the latter part of the Verses, to almost half, being perished. So that noble City of Greece, and heretofore very learned, had not known the Monument of her most ingenious Citizen, had she not learned it of a poor Arpinate. But let my Discourse return, from whence it hath digressed; for who is there that hath any acquaintance with the Muses, that is, with Humanity and Learning, who had not rather be this Mathematician, than that Tyrant? If we look into their manner of Life and Employment, the mind of one was improved by working, and searching out Proportions, with the delight of invention, which is the sweetest repast of Souls: The others fed with Carnage and Injuries, with Fears both by day and by night. Come on, compare Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras; what Kingdoms, what Wealth will you prefer before their Studies and Delights? for what is the best part in man, therein must that best thing of all for man, which you inquire after, of necessity be seated. Now what is there in man, better than an ingenuous and sound mind? The good of that therefore must we enjoy, if we would be happy; but the good of the mind is Virtue; therefore a happy Life must of necessity be comprised in that. Hence all things which are good, honest, honourable (as I said above, but that same seems that it ought to be more largely said) are full of joys. Now seeing it is plain, that a happy Life is made up of continual and complete joys, it follows that it ariseth from honesty.  


(l) On which was the Figure of a Sphere and Cylinder.] On which he had written so accurately.   

(m) Of a poor Arpinate.] Tully was born at Arpinum a Corporation Famous before only for the Birth of Marius, a stout but illiterate Commander.     

SECT. XXIV. The Exercise of a Wise man in Contemplation of Nature.  
BUT lest we should only touch in words, upon those things which we ought to show; there are some, as it were, motives to be laid down by us, which should more invite us to knowledge and understanding; for let us presume on some Person, excelling in the best Arts; and let him, for a while, be fancied in our Mind and Thought. First, he must needs be of an excellent Wit; for Virtue doth not in all likelihood consort with dull Souls. Then must he have a forward inclination to the search of truth; from whence ariseth that threefold issue of the Soul; the one in knowledge of the World, and explaining of Nature; a second in the description of what is to be desired, what avoided; the third in judging what is consequent to what, and what repugnant; wherein consists both all the subtlety of disputing, and truth of judging. What joy then, I pray, must needs possess the wise man's mind, dwelling and lodging with these Entertainments? and when he shall behold the Motions and Revolutions of the whole Firmament, and shall see innumerable Stars sticking in their Orb, agree with its own motion, fixed in their due distances. Other seven, each to keep their courses much differing in height or lowness, whose wide motions yet limit certain bounded and ordered Posts of their Race. It was the Observation of these that incited and minded those Ancients to inquire farther. Thence arose that search of the Principles, and as it were Seeds whence all things had their Original, Generation, Composition; and what is the Rise, what Life, what Death, and what the Change or Conversion from one into another, of every kind with or without Sense, dumb or speaking; whence is the Earth, and by what weights poised; in what caverns it sustains the Seas; whether all things born down by their Gravity, do always tend to the middle place of the World, which is also the lowest in a round Figure.  


(n) That threefold issue of the Soul.] Physics, Ethics, and Logic.   

(o) Search of the Principles, and as it were, Seeds whence all things had their Original.] The Creation of the World, in its order, could not have been discovered, unless it had been from above revealed; for how could Adam come to understand what had passed in the Vigils of his Production, into Being without a Divine Tradition; but the old Sages beheld the order of Causes in Generation, and found Matter and Form to concur, when there was a vacancy, to the producing any new compound.     

SECT. XXV. Good Manners, right Reasoning, and discharge of his place.  
WHILST he considers these things, and meditates on them day and night, there ariseth that knowledge enjoined by the God at Delphi, that the Spirit knows itself to have put off former Vices, and experiments that it is allied to the Divine Spirit, and thereupon is filled with insatiable Joy. For the very Contemplation of the Power and Nature of the Deity, and enkindleth a desire of imitating that Eternity; nor doth it think itself confined to this shortness of Life, when it beholds the Causes of all Events depending one upon another, and all of them linked together with necessity; which as they flow from eternal Duration to eternal, yet a Wisdom and Spirit doth conduct. Steadfastly beholding these things, and looking upwards, or rather looking round on all the Parts and Extremities, with what calmness of mind again doth he consider the Contingencies of Hurnane Life and things here below? Hence ariseth that knowledge of Virtue; the general and particular Virtues sprout forth; there is found out, what is that chiefest amongst Goods which Nature aims at, what the utmost amongst Evils, whereinto all Duties are to be resolved, what order of leading our Life to be chosen. These and suchlike things being searched out, it is firmly proved which we chiefly drive at in this Dispute, that Virtue is selfsufficient to happiness of Life. A third branch remains, the method and skill of disputing, which is diffused, and spreads through all the Parts of Wisdom. This defines Notions, divides the general into its parts, conjoins consequent means of proof, infers regular Conclusions. From which as the highest usefulness ariseth towards examining Matters; so doth also the most ingenuous delight, and worthy of Wisdom. But these are the Improvements of leisure; pass the same wise man to manage the public; what can be more serviceable than he, when he beholds the Interest of his Country to be bound up in his Prudence; out of Justice he converts nothing of the public to his private use; exercises so many others, and such various Virtues? Join hereto the benefit of Friendships, wherein as all the Counsel agreeing, and almost conspiring in the conduct of Life, hath been placed by the Learned; so is there singular delight in daily respect and Conversation. What, I pray, doth this Life lack to make it more Happy? To this Estate filled up with so many and so great Joys, Fortune itself must needs submit. Now if it be Happy to rejoice in such Goods of the Mind, that is, Virtues; and all wise men constantly feel such Joys; we must of necessity confess, that all wise men are Happy.   

SECT. XXVI. The wise man is Happy in Adversity.  S. 
WHAT? under Tortures and Racking.  M. 
Do you think I mean under a Chaplet of Violets and Roses? Shall Epicurus, who is only a Philosopher in Masquerade, and assumes that Title to himself; shall he be allowed to say, what yet he doth with my applause, as the matter now stands, that there is no time of a wise man, although whilst he is burning, wracked, cut, but wherein he may cry out, Now nothing do I value this? especially when he defines all Evil by Pain, Good by Pleasure; laughs at this our Honesty, as baseness; and teaches us to be a company of Canters, that set up for a parcel of idle School-Gibbrish, not having any other true Interest, but in what feels smooth or rough in the Body. Shall he then, as I said, not much differing in judgement from Beasts, be allowed to forget himself, and then to brave Fortune, when as his whole, both Good and Evil, is in the Power of Fortune? then call himself Happy in the greatest racking and torture, when he hath laid it down for a Principle, that Pain is not only the chiefest, but the only Evil; and that not having provided himself of those supports, to the bearing up under Pain; such as are Resolution of Mind, Fear of Baseness, Exercise and Habit of Patience, Precepts of Fortitude, manly Hardiness; but saith, he rests himself on the bare remembrance of past Pleasures; just as if one sweltering, when he is ready to faint away with the excess of heat, would call to mind, that he had been in our Manner of Arpinum, refreshed with the Breezes from the cool Streams that run about it; for I do not see how past Pleasures can assuage present Evils; but when he saith that a wise man is always Happy, who could say no such thing, if he would be true to himself; what should they do, who think nothing desirable, nothing to be ranked amongst Goods, which is abstracted from Honesty? If my word may pass, even the Peripatetics and old Academics should at length leave their lisping, and without more mincing the matter, take courage to speak plain, and with an intelligible voice, that Happiness of Life can enter into Phalaris his Bull.  


(p) In our Manner of Arpinum, refreshed with the Breezes from the cold Streams that run about it.] In Cicero's Arpinum were two Rivers, Fibrenus and another, where the Marian Oak stood; a pertinent and pleasant Similitude.   

(q) Phalaris his Bull.] When Phalaris ruled in Sicily, with rigour he put many to divers Tortures. Upon this Perillus thinking to gratify the Tyrant's cruel Humour, invented a Brazen Bull hollow, and with a Trap-door to let in the Sufferers, then having shut it again, to kindle a gentle Fire, and so the Brass heating, the Person also roared out into bellow, as of a true Bull; the Tyrant made the first experiment upon the Artist; it is put Metonymically for any exquisite Torture.     

SECT. XXVII. Objection from Pain against the self-sufficiency of Virtue answered.  
FOR allow there be three sorts of Goods, that we may at length get clear of the Snares of the Stoics; more of which I understand that I have used, than I am wont to do; allow them, I say, for sorts of Goods; so those of the Body, and of the Estate, couch on the ground, and be only termed Good, because they are to be accepted; but those other Divine ones, let them spread far and near, and mount up to Heaven; so that he who hath acquired them, why should I call him Happy only, and not also most Happy? But will a wise man dread Pain? for that is the greatest Adversary to this opinion; for we seem enough fortified and prepared by the former days Disputes against our own Death, and that of our Friends; as also against Discontent, and the other Passions of the Mind. Pain seems to be the most violent Adversary against Virtue, that thrusts out his burning Torches at us; that threatens to vanquish Fortitude, Magnanimity, and Patience. Shall Virtue then fall under this? Shall the Blessed Life of a Wife and Constant man render to this. Good Gods! how base were that? Spartan Children torn with smarting Lashes, never give a groan. We have seen ourselves, at Lacedaemon, Multitudes of young men Box, Kick, Scratch, By't, with incredible earnestness, so as to fall down dead, before they would confess themselves worsted. What Barbarous Land is more waist or wild, than India? yet in that Nation, those who are counted wise men live naked, and endure the Snows and Winter violence of Caucasus without Pain; and when they turn themselves to the Flame, are scorched without groaning. Nay the Indian Women, when the Husband of any of them is dead, enter into Contest and Trial, which of them he loved best, for they are wont to be many Wives to one man; she that gets the better, joyful and attended by her Friends, is laid by her Husband on the Funeral Pile; the other that lost, goes away sorrowful. Custom could never vanquish Nature, for that is always invincible. But we have emasculated our Spirit with Shade, Delicacies, Ease, Niceness, Sloth, and debauched our Judgement with Mistakes, and bad Precedents. Who knows not the Egyptians Practice? whose minds being prepossessed with corrupt Errors, would endure any the most exquisite Torment, rather than violate an Ibis, or Asp, or Cat, or Dog, or Crocodile; and if unawares they do any such thing, they are content to undergo any Punishment that shall be inflicted on them. I speak hitherto of Men. What do Beasts? do not they endure Cold, and Hunger, Running and Ranging over Mountains and thorough Woods? do they not so Fight, to protect their Young, as to receive Wounds? fear no Charges, no Blows? I wave that ambitious men abide and suffer for Honour's sake; what the vainglorious, for Praise; what the Amorous, for Lust. The World is full of Instances.  


(r) The Indian Women.] In the Camp of Eumenes there fell out an admirable Instance, and very much different from the Grecian Practice. Cetrus, one of the Indian Captains, having fought bravely, fell in the Battle, and left two Wives behind him. Now it had been an old Custom in India, that young Men and Maids married, without ask their Parents Consent, but as they fancied one another. This rash judgement of Youth, was often followed with speedy Repentance; so that many Women were debauched, and fell in Love with others, but finding no colour of leaving them, begun to take them out of the way. India is a Country stored with many Simples and Drugs of such a deletory Nature, as some of them kill instantly if the Dish or Cup be but touched with them. This Practice of poisoning prevailed, and many men were thus taken off; nor could any rigour of Justice deter the rest from the like attempts. At length a Law was made, that such Women as survived their Husbands, and had no Children, nor were with Child, should be burnt; which if they refused, they should not Marry again, but be for ever excommunicated, as impious. This quite altered their Inclinations, for the greatness of the Disgrace, made them contented to die rather, and they both grew tender in Preservation of their Husband's Life, as their own; and also took a Glory to be Consorts with him in death. As it fell out at this time, for the Law being express, that one must be burnt with her slain Husband, both of them presented themselves at his Funeral, standing for the Partnership with him in death, as for a glorious prize. A Council of War was called; here the latter Wife alleged, that the former was by her Belly debarred from dying in the express terms of the Law. But the other pleaded that she ought to have the priority of Honour, as she had of time; for in all other Instances the Elder have in Matters of Privilege, title to precedency. The Soldiers being informed by a Jury of Women, that the Elder was indeed with Child, gave the cause for the Younger. Upon which, she that was cast, with loud shrieks went out of the Court, her attire and hair torn, as at the hearing of some doleful news. But the other, joyful for having carried the day, was dressed up by her acquaintance, with Ribbons and rich attire; then led to the Funeral Pile, as to a Wedding, by her nearest kindred, who, as they went, sung the praises of her Virtue. When they were come to the Stake, she divested herself, and distributed her Ornaments amongst her Friends and Acquaintance, as a Token of her last Affections. Thus was her attire; many Rings on her Fingers glistering with precious Stones of divers sorts; on her Head a Sky of Golden Stars, set with radiant Sparks of several Gems; about her Neck many Necklaces of Pearl, increasing in size each above the other; at last having taken leave of all her acquaintance, she was by her Brother helped up the Pile, where, to the admiration of all that had come from the parts round about to the sight, she ended her Life in an heroical manner; for the whole Army marched in Arms thrice round the Funeral Pile, before Fire was put to it; and she lying down by her Husband's side, when the heat grew more and more powerfully sensible, let no voice pass which might discover any meanness of Spirit; so that the Spectators some were touched with Compassion; others magnified her beyond any measure. But most of the Greeks thought it an inhuman and cruel Law.   

(s) An Ibis.] A Bird that kills up Serpents.   

(t) An Asp.] A venomous Creature which casts into a deadly sleep; with this Cleopatra made herself away after the Actium disgrace.     

SECT. XXVIII. The wise man is happy though he be in Torments.  
BUT our Discourse must keep within bounds, and return thither where it turned out of the way. Happiness will, will, I tell you, go into Torments; nor having accompanied Justice, Temperance, and especially Fortitude, Magnanimity, Patience, when it shall see the Tormentors Face, will it stop; and when all the Virtues go with an undaunted mind to Torture, will she stand (as I said) without the Prison doors, and not step over the threshold? for what would be more scandalous, more ugly, than her left alone and severed from her most beautiful train of Companions, which yet is no ways possible; for neither can the Virtues hold together without happiness of Life, nor that without the Virtues. Therefore they will not suffer her to lag behind, but will hurry her along with them, to whatever pain and torture they shall be led; for it is the property of a wise man, to do nothing to be repent of, nothing upon constraint, all things nobly, constantly, gravely, honestly; to expect nothing, as presumed certain; to admire nothing when it is befallen, as that it should seem to have happened new and unexpected; to bring all things to the Bar of his discretion, and stand to the awards of his own judgement: what can be more happy than this, cannot enter into my mind; I acknowledge, indeed, the inference of the Stoics is plain; who having held the chiefest of Goods to be agreement with Nature, and living up suitably to it; this being in the wise man not only as to Duty, but also Power; it must necessarily follow, that in whose Power is the chiefest Good, in the same is also happiness of Life; so that a wise man's Life is always happy. Thus you have what I think is spoken of a happy Life most resolutely; and as the matter stands here, unless you can tell us any thing better, most truly too.  


(u) Which yet is no ways possible.] Virtue and Blessedness are inseparable Companions.   

(w) A wise man to do nothing to be repent of.] Take it in a compound sense; for Wisdom is not to be repent of, but in a State of Imperfection, Repentance is Wisdom recovered; nor dishonourable, for upon it God also reputes of Punishment.     

SECT. XXIX. Whether the Peripatetics may consistently to themselves hold what the Stoics do.  S. 
BETTER I can tell nothing, but I would willingly beg the favour of you, if it be not too much trouble, because you are not under engagements to any certain Sect, but cull out of all, whatever works upon you, with any appearance of truth, whereas you seemed a little before to exhort the Peripatetics and old Academy, that they would take the boldness to say freely without biting in their words, that wise men are always most happy, I would fain learn of you, how you think it comporting with their Principle so to say; for much hath been said by you against their opinion, and concluded after the Stoics way of arguing.  M. 
Use we therefore our liberty, which we only can use in Philosophy, whose discourse judges nothing itself, but argues on all sides, that it may of itself, without the shelter of any one's Authority, be judged by others. And since you seem to be wishing this, that whatsoever be the opinion of dissenting Philosophers, about the several chief Goods, yet Virtue hath in itself sufficient Power, to the securing of an happy Life; which we have been informed Carneades was wont to maintain; but he did it as against the Stoics, whom he did always most earnestly confute, and against whose Doctrine his Wit broke forth into Heats. We will do the same thing, but calmly; for if the Stoics have rightly set the bounds of things good, the matter is at an end; the wise man must of necessity be always happy, but let us inquire into every opinion of the rest; if it be possible, that this excellent, as it were, Sanction of an happy Life, may agree with all their Judgements.   

SECT. XXX. The different Opinions about the chief Good.  
NOW these Opinions about the Supreme good, have, as I suppose, been kept and maintained: First, four single ones; that Nothing is Good but what is Honest, as the Stoic; that Nothing is Good but Pleasure, as Epicurus; that Nothing is Good but freedom from Pain, as Hierom; that Nothing is Good but to enjoy the prime Goods of Nature, either all, or the greatest, as Carneades disputed it against the Stoics. These than are single, the following are mixed. The three sorts of Goods, the greatest of the Soul; the next of the Body; external, the third, as the Peripatetics; nor held the ancient Academics much otherwise. Pleasure with Honesty Clitomachus and Calliphon coupled; but Freedom from Pain Diodorus, the Peripatetic, joined to Honesty. These are the Opinions which held their Station any time; for those of Aristo, Pyrrho, Herillus, and some others, are vanished away. What claim these can make out, let us consider, omitting the Stoics, whose opinion I seem already to have enough defended. And indeed the cause of the Peripatetics is opened, except Theophrastus, and if any of his Followers do very weakly dread and shrink from Pain; the rest may do what they usually do, magnify the Gravity and Dignity of Virtue; and when they have extolled it to Heaven, that which such Eloquent men are wont copiously to do, it is easy to run down, and undervalue all other things in comparison thereto; for it is not free for them who hold that praise is to be sought with Pain, to deny them to be happy, who have acquired it; since though they are in some Evils, yet this name of happy hath a great length and breadth.  


(x) Hierom.] Of Rhodes.   

(y) Diodorus.] Surnamed Cronus.   

(z) Aristo.] He held besides Vice and Virtue all to be indifferent.   

(a) Pyrrho.] He taught Nothing could be known.   

(b) Herillus.] His Tenet, that Knowledge is the chiefest Good.     

SECT. XXXI. The denomination of the whole is from the greater part.  
FOR as Merchandise is said to be gainful, Husbandry fruitful, not if the one be always free from any loss, the other always from any injury of the Wether; but if for far the more part there prove good success in both; so Life, not only if it be crammed with Goods on every side, but if in much the greater and more important part Goods do preponderate, it may rightly be called happy. Happiness of Life therefore, in these men's Scheme, will follow Virtue even to Punishment, and enter with it into the Bull, upon the warrant of Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo; nor will be corrupted by small blandishments to forsake it. The same will be the judgement of Calliphon and Diodorus, both of which so embraces honesty, that he esteems all things which are without it, to be set behind it, and at a great distance too. The rest seem to be harder beset; yet they save themselves ashore. Epicure, Hierom, and if there be any that care to defend that Eloquent Carneades; for there is none but thinks the Soul judge of these Goods, and instructs it how it, may be able to contemn those things which seem good or evil. For what you take to be the case of Epicurus, the same will be that of Hierom and Carneades, and in truth all the rest; for who is not sufficiently provided against Death or Pain? Begin we at him, if you please, whom we call Lasche, and voluptuary. What? do you take him to fear Death, or Pain? who calls that day, wherein he is a dying, blessed; and being in very great Pains, yet silences them with the memory and recalling to mind of his Inventions▪ nor doth he this in such manner, as that he might be thought to bolt forth some extemporary flash, for this is his Sentiment about death, that when the living Creature is dissolved, all Sense is abolished; but what is without Sense nothing concerns us. About Pain also he hath certain Rules, which he follows; for he comforts their greatness, with the being short; and their length, with the being light. What I pray? those big speakers, are they better provided than Epicurus, against these two, which give the greatest anguish? Do not Epicurus and the rest of the Philosophers seem sufficiently prepared for those other Evils reputed? Who dreads not Poverty? yet so doth not any of the Philosophers.   

SECT. XXXII. and in 33, 34, 35. A Plea for Poverty.  
NAY, even he himself, with how little was he contented? None hath said more of a slender Diet; for the things which occasion a coveting after Money; as to have a constant supply for Love, for Ambition, for daily Expenses, when he preserveth himself from all those things, what great need hath he for Money, or rather why should he at all regard it? Could Anacharsis the Scythian have no value for Money, and cannot our Country Philosophers do the same. A Letter of his goeth about in these words. Anacharsis to Hanno Greeting. My clothes is a Scythian Pelt; Shoes, the soles of my Feet; Bed, the Ground; Dainties, a good Stomach; Diet, Milk, Cheese, Flesh. Wherefore you may come over to me, as being at leisure. But those Presents of yours, wherein you display your magnificence, offer either your own Carthaginians, or the immortal Gods. Almost all Philosophers of all Persuasions could be thus minded, except those whom depraved Nature, had perverted from right Reason. Socrates at a Show, when a great quantity of Gold and Silver was carried by, said, How many things are there that I do not lack! Xenocrates, when Ambassadors from Alexander had brought him fifty Talents, which was a very great sum in those times, especially at Athens, carried their Excellencies along with him into the Academy to Supper; provided no exceed, but set before them a bare Colledge-Commons. The next day when they asked him, whom he would order to have the Money drawn over to him: What? saith he, did you not understand by yesterday short meal, that I need no Money. At this when he saw them look somewhat dissatisfied, he took a hundred Pounds of it, lest he should seem to slight their Master's liberality. But Diogenes more bluntly yet, as a Cynic, when Alexander asked him, wherein he could serve him; At present, saith he, a little out of my Sun. He had, it seems, hindered his basking. He it was, who used to dispute, how much he surpassed in Life and Fortunes, the great King of Persia: That he wanted nothing; the other would never have enough; he lacked not the others Pleasures wherewith he could never be satisfied; the other could no ways attain to his satisfactions.  


(c) A hundred Pounds.] A Drachma is valuable, against the Denarius, about eight pence. A Mina, 100 Drachmas, 30 Minae, 300 Drachmae.   

(d) Of it▪] Of the 50. Talents, a Talon was the Greater. 

80. Minae.  
266. l. 13. s. 4. d.    
The Lesser 

60. m.  
200. l.    
50 

dat T. 10000 l.  
gr. T. 13333 l. 6. s. 8. d.       

SECT. XXXIII. That Pleasures may be purchased at an easy rate.  
YOU see, I presume, how Epicurus hath divided the sorts of Desires, perhaps not over cunningly, yet usefully; that they are, part, natural and necessary; part, natural and not necessary; part, neither; that the necessary may be satisfied with next to nothing, for the Riches of Nature are low-prized; that the second sort is neither difficult to compass, nor to refrain. The third because they are wholly empty, and do not concern not only necessity, but so much as Nature, he thought were wholly to be cashiered. Upon this Head much is disputed by the Epicureans, and these Pleasures are in particular depressed; which in the general they do not disesteem; but they are straightened for matter; for they tell us that obscene Pleasures also, upon which they hold much discourse, are easy, common, and at hand; and they think them if Nature require, not to be measured by their Birth, or Quality, or Rank; but their Beauty, Age, and Shape; and that it is no hard matter to abstain from them, if either Health, or Business, or Reputation require; and in the whole, that this sort of Pleasures is desirable, if it do no hurt; that it never doth good. And this whole Lesson about Pleasure, he hath so laid down, that he thinks Pleasure of itself, because it is Pleasure always desirable, and to be pursued; and by the same reason, Pain upon that very account, because it is Pain, always to be avoided. Therefore that a wise man would still hold this Balance, to avoid Pleasure, if it would work greater Pain; and to embrace Pain, working a greater Pleasure; and that all delights, however they are judged, by bodily Sense, yet are resolved into the mind. Wherefore the Body rejoiceth only so long as it feels the present Pleasure; the Soul both perceives the present together with the Body, and forseeth it coming; nor suffers it to depart when past. Thus that there will always be close and uninterrupted Pleasures in the wise man; when the memory of those enjoyed, is continued with the expectation of those hoped for. Arguments also of like Nature are applied to Diet. There the magnificence and sumptuousness of Feasting is decried, because Nature is contented with small Provision.   

SECT. XXXIV. Examples of a light Diet in the Lacedæmonians and Persians.  
NOW who doth not see that all these things are seasoned by the appetite? Darius, upon a flight, having drank Water, and troubled and stained with the Corpse of the slain, said, He had not made a more pleasant draught. He never, it seems, had been a dry when he drunk: Nor had Ptolemy been a hungry when he eat; for on a time, in his Progress through Egypt, his Courtiers and Purveyance not being yet come up, when Household-bread in a Country-Cottage was brought him: No Royal Cates ever went down with greater Gust than that Bread. They report of Socrates, when he was walking very earnestly too late in the Evening, and was asked why he did so, that he replied, He was going to Market to buy him a Stomach to his Supper. What? do we not see the Commons of the Lacedæmonians in their Hall? where when the Tyrant Dionysius had supped, he said, He did not like their black Broth, which was the prime Dish of the Table to which he was invited: Then the Cook replied, No wonder, Sir, for you had not the proper seasoning. What is that, saith he, I pray? Hard hunting, sweat, race from Eurotas, hunger, thirst. For the Lacedaemonian Feasts have these Sauces; and this may be understood, not only from the Custom of men, but also from Beasts. These, if you put any Fodder to them, so it be not improper to their Nature, they are contented with it, and look no further. Some whole States trained up by the mode of their Country, love Parsimony. The Fare of the Persians is described by Xenophon, who saith of them, that they eat nothing with their Bread but Cresses. Although if Nature do require some more grateful repast, how many things grow out of the Earth, and upon Trees, both of easy purchase, and admirable relish: Join hereto that dry Constitution which follows upon this spare Diet; compare with them the other sweeting, belching, crammed with Feasting, like stalled Oxen; you will soon understand, that they who most follow after Pleasure, are the farthest from taking it; and that the delight of all enjoyments, is in the appetite, not satiety.   

SECT. XXXV. — in the Academy.  
THEY relate of Timothy the Athenian, and prime Nobleman in that State, that having supped with Plato, he was greatly taken with the entertainment, and seeing him on the morrow, said, your Suppers not only please at the present, but also do much good the next day. Whereas we have not the free and clear use of our understanding, when we are stuffed with Meat and Drink. There is an excellent Epistle of Plato's to dion Relations, wherein is written to this effect, almost in the very words. When I was come thither, that Life which was cried up for happy, full of Italian and Syracusian Feasts; no ways agreed with me, twice a day to be gorged, never to lie single; and other Consequents of such a Life; wherein no man will ever he made wise, and sober much less. For what Nature can ever be of such an admirable Temper? How then can a Life be pleasant, where there is neither Prudence nor Sobriety? whence the Error of Sardanapalus, the most wealthy King of Syria, is discernible; who commanded it to be engraved on his Monument.  
This have I, what I eat, and what did sat  
My greedy Lust; farewel both Wealth and State!  
What else, saith Aristotle, would one write upon a Beasts Sepulchre, and not a Kings? He saith he hath now he is dead, what, whilst he was alive, he had no longer than during the enjoyment; why then should Riches be wanted, or wherein doth not Poverty suffer us to be happy? In Images, I warrant, Pictures, Plays. If any one be taken with these, do not mean men more enjoy them, than they who have the greatest store of them? for there is in our City abundance of all such things belonging to the Public, and exposed. Those which private men have, are neither so many, and they seldom see them, only when they come into their Country Houses. And then too, fell some remorses, when they call to mind how they came by them. The day would fail, if I should go about to make an Apology for Poverty; since the matter is plain, and Nature itself minds us every day, how few things she wants, how small, how cheap.  


(e) Sardanapalus.] He was the last King of Assyria, overthrown by Arbaces the Mede: at Anchiale was a Monument erected for him, on a Marble Base the Statue of a Man in Brass, with his right Thumb applied to his middle Finger; underneath was insoribed;  
Sardanapalus, Son of Anacyndaraxes, built Anchiale and Tarsus in one day. Stranger, do you eat, drink and play, for all else is not worth this.  
The posture above is of one giving a fillip.   

(f) How they came by them.] The Villas of Noblemen were garnished with these Rarities from the Pillage of the Provinces in the time of their own, or their Ancestors Government.     

SECT. XXXVI. A Defence of obscurity in Birth and Condition.  
SHALL then obscurity, or meanness, or even falling under the displeasure of the People; hinder a wise man from being Happy? Consider, whether this courting of the Vulgar, and that glory which is eagerly pursued, have not in it more trouble than Pleasure. Sure our Demosthenes was weak, who declared himself pleased with the whispering of a Woman, bearing a Tankard, as is the fashion in Greece, and rounding her Fellow in the Ear, There goeth the great Demosthenes. What can be more vain than this? yet how brave an Orator? but he knew, it appears, to speak to others, had not had much Communication with himself. We must therefore be informed, that neither is popular glory of itself to be affected, nor obscurity dreaded. I came to Athens, saith Democritus, and no body took notice of me. Constant and Grave man, who glories that he escaped Glory! Do Pipers and Fiddlers play Tunes after their own, not the judgement of the Multitude; and shall a wise man, Master of a far nobler Science, inquire not what is agreeable to Honour and Conscience, but what humours the Mobile? Can there be any greater Folly, than to idolise them jointly, whom severally you look upon with contempt, as Mechanics and illiterate? No, the man mentioned will despise our Ambitions and Weaknesses; and reject the Honours of the People, though freely offered him; but we know not to contemn them, before we find cause to repent of our fondness of them. There is in Heraclitus the Naturalist, about Hermodorus the prime man of the Ephesians: He saith the Ephesians deserved to be all executed, because when they banished Hermodore out of their Country, they spoke thus, We will have no man among us more excellent than another; but if any such there be, let them go elsewhere, and live among others. Is not this so in all Commonwealths? Do they not hate all eminency in Virtue? What of Aristides (for I had rather bring Instances of the Greeks, than our own) was he not, for that very reason, driven out of his Country, because he was righteous above the common level? How great troubles therefore do they miss, who enter into no engagements with the People? for what is sweeter than Retirement and Study? That Study; I mean, whereby we understand the infinity of the Universe and Nature; and in this visible World, Heaven, Earth, and Seas.  


(g) To idolise them jointly, whom severally you look upon with contempt.] When Alcibiades appeared timorous, and loath to speak in the Popular Assembly, Socrates encouraged him after this manner. Do you think that Cobbler (and called him by his name) should put you in awe? neither that Porter? nor the third a Dray-man? Why then, nor the People of Athens.   

(h) Is not this so in all Commonwealths? do they not hate all eminency in Virtue?) A Lesson worthy to be considered by all Republicans and petty Statists.   

ay I had rather bring Instances in the Greeks, than our own.] This Parenthesis insinuates the Roman ingratitude to himself; as formerly to Camillus, Aquilius, Rutilius; but with great generosity he passes over the unkindness of his Countrymen, and delights not to aggravate the public Failings.     

SECT. XXXVII. Supports under Banishment.  
AFTER contempt therefore of Honour, contempt also of Money, what remains to be dreaded? Banishment, I warrant, which is counted amongst the greatest Evils. If that be evil upon account of the People's displeasure, how much that is to be slighted, hath been showed a little before. But if it is miserable to be absent from ones Country; all the Provinces are full of miserable Persons, for very few return out of them into their own Land. Ay, but the banished forseit their Estates. What then? Is not enough said of bearing Poverty with Patience. Indeed for Banishment, if you look upon the Nature of things, and not the discredit of the name; how much doth it differ from taking up our constant abode in a foreign Country; yet so have the most noble Philosophers spent their whole Ages. Xenocrates, Crantor, Arcesilas, Lacydas, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Zeno, Cleanthes, Chrysippus, Antipater, Carneades, Panaetius, Clitomachus, Philo, Antiochus, Posidonius, innumerable others, who having once gone out of their Country, never returned home again; but they did it without disgrace. Can disgrace take impression on a wise man (for this whole discourse is about the wise man) whom it can never justly befall; for we should not comfort him who is justly banished. Lastly, in all cases they have the easiest expedient, who determine all the events of Life to Pleasure; so that, wheresoever that is to be had, they can there live happily. Wherefore to every Scheme that word of Teucer is appliable.  Our Country is, where we live well. 
Socrates being asked, what Countryman he styled himself; replies, a Cosmopolite; for he thought himself Native and Denizen of the whole World. What did T. Albutius? did he not, with great content, follow his Studies in Banishment at Athens? which misfortune yet had not befallen him, had he lived quietly in the State, and followed the Rules of Epicurus. Now wherein was Epicurus happier, because he lived in his own Country, than Metrodorus, because at Athens? or had Plato advantage over Xenocrates, or Polemo over Arcesilas, as to being the more happy? But what is that State to be valued, out of which good and wise men are chased? Demaratus indeed, the Father of our King Tarquin, because he could not bear the Tyrant Cypsilus, fled from Corinth to Tarquinii, and there settled his Estate, and begot Children. Was it foolish in him to prefer Liberty abroad, before slavery at home?  


(k) Xenocrates.] Of Chalcedon.   

(l) Crantor.] Of Soli.   

(m) Arcesilass] Of Pitana in Aeolia.   

(n) Lacydas.] A Cyrenian.   

(o) Aristotle.] Of Stagira, Professor in Athens, died at Chalcis.   

(p) Theophrastus.] Of Eresus in Lesbos.   

(q) Zeno.] Of Cittium in Cyprus.   

(r) Cleanthes.] Of Assos'.   

(s) Chrysippus.] Of Soli.   

(t) Antipater.] Of Tarsus.   

(u) Carneades.] A Cyrenian.   

(w) Panaetius.] A Rhodian.   

(x) Clitomachus.] A Carthaginian.   

(y) Philo.]   

(z) Antiochus.] Of Ashkelon.   

(a) Posidonius.] Born at Apamea in Syria, chose to be called Rhodian from the Isle where he was Student, Professor and Governor.   

(b) To every Scheme.] Origen against Celsus censuring the narrowness of some who confine their Charity to their own Party, that is, in truth, build up themselves, prefers the good nature of Chrysippus, who in his Treatise of curing the Passions, calculates his advice to the several Philosophers, upon supposition of their respective Principles.   

(c) Than Metrodorus.] Born at Chios.   

(d) Demaratus indeed, the Father of our King Tarquin.] Surnamed Priscus.     

SECT. XXXVIII & XXXIX. — Blindness.  
FUrthermore, the Commotions of the Soul, Anxieties, and Discontents are buried in Oblivion, when our minds are fetched off to Pleasure. Wherefore Epicurus did not without cause, take the boldness to say, that a wise man had always a greater portion of good things, because he was always in Pleasures. Whence he thinks that to be proved which is our question, that a wise man is always happy.  S. 
What? though he want the Sense of Eyes, of Ears?  M. 
Yes, for he slights those very things. Since first that same horrible blindness, what Pleasures, I pray, doth it want? whereas some do even dispute, that the other Pleasures are lodged in the Senses themselves, but what are perceived by sight, do not act in any pleasing of the Eyes; as the objects of Taste, Smell, Feeling, Hearing, act on that very Organ, which is their proper Sensory. No such thing is done in the Eyes. The Soul receives what we see. Now we may many and divers ways have delights of the mind, without making any use of any Eyesight. I speak as to the Scholar, and ingenuous Artist, whose Life is Contemplation. For the wise man's Study doth not use to call the Eyes in as assistants in the Prosecution of his search. And if the Night take not away an happy Life, why should a Day like to Night take it away? For that saying of Antipater the Cyrenaick, is a little towards merry, but yet may admit an ingenuous Sense. When the Ladies mourned over his darkness, saith he, What do you mean? Do you think there is no pleasure in the dark? Appius the ancient, who was many years blind, we understand both by the Offices which he bore, and his Actions, that he was in that his Circumstance, wanting to the Duties neither of his public, nor private Capacity. We have also heard that the House of C. Drusus was filled with Clients, when they that could not see their own business, took a Blind man for their guide.  


(e) No such thing is done in the Eyes.] He favours the opinion, that Vision is effected, not by reception of Species, but emission of Rays.   

(f) Appius the Blind.] Appius Claudius was Censor, an active Magistrate, who paved the Way to Brundisium, called the Appian way; and brought in an Aquaduct into the City. When he was blind, he gave his Vote in the Senate, and overruled the question of not receiving the Prisoners taken by Pyrrhus, nor making Peace with him.     

SECT. XXXIX.  
WHEN we were Children, Cn. Aufidius, who had been Praetor, gave his Vote in the Senate, nor denied his Friend's Chamber-Counsel, wrote a Greek History, and was clear sighted in Learning. Diodotus the Stoic lived many years at our House blind. Now he, what would be hardly credible, exercised himself in Philosophy, rather much more diligently than before, played on Musical Instruments, after the Pythagorean usage, had Books read to him day and night; in which Studies he needed not Eyes. Above all this, what scarce seems possible without Eyes, he supported the Office of a Geometry Lecture, directing his Scholars by word of mouth, from what Point, to what Point they should draw every Line. They report of Asclepiades a not obscure Ereirian Philosopher, when one asked what alteration Blindness had brought upon him; that he should answer, To carry one Servant more about with him; for as even the extremest Poverty would be tolerable, if one might what some Greeks do every day; so Blindness could easily be born, if it have sufficient Succours against its Infirmities. Democritus having lost his Eyes, could not distinguish, I grant, between white and black; but now, good and evil, just and unjust, honourable and base, profitable and disprofitable, great and small he could; and without variety of colours, might live happily; without discerning of Natures could not. Nay this man thought that the intention of his mind was rather distracted by the sight of his Eyes; and whereas others oftentimes could not see what block lay in their ways, he ranged over all infinity, so that no extreme could set bounds to his further advance. There is a Tradition too, that Homer was Blind. But we see his Picture more like than Poem. What Country, what Coast, what place of Grcece, what sort of Subject, what Skirmish, what pitched Field, what Galley, what motion of Men, what of Beasts, is not so drawn to the Life, as that he hath brought us to see, what himself saw not? What then, do we think, could either Homer, or any other Scholar, ever want to complete the delight and pleasure of the Soul? or if the Matter were not so, would Anaxagoras, or this very Democritus, have left their Lands and Estates, and have given up themselves, with their whole Soul, to this Divine delight of learning and enquiring. Therefore the Poets never bring in Tiresias the Soothsayer, whom they feign to be a wise man, bemoaning his Blindness. But now Homer having framed Polyphemus of an inhuman and savage Character, makes him to hold discourse with his Ram, and praise its Fortunes that it could go whether it would, and graze upon what it would. He, indeed, did it well; for the Cyclops himself was never a whit wiser than his Ram.  


(g) Asclepiades, a not obscure Eretrain Philosopher.] This is distinguished from Asclepiades the Prusian, that eminent Physician.   

(h) The extremest Poverty would be tolerable, if one might, what some Greeks do every day.] This general Reflection is more pregnant than any special charge; whether it mean servile Flattery, ill Practices, or sordid Employments for Gain.   

ay Homer having framed Polyphemus.] See his Odysseis, Book 9 by Ogilby or Hobbs.     

SECT. XL. Deafness.  
BUT what evil is there in Deafness? M. Crassus was thick of hearing, but another thing had more trouble in it, that he heard ill; though, as I thought, wrongfully. Our Epicureans cannot speak Greek; nor the Greek Epicureans Latin; therefore these are to each other, in regard of their respective Languages Deaf; and we are all so in those Tongues, that we do not understand which are innumerable; we are in truth Deaf. But they do not hear the voice of the Harper; neither do they the screaking of the Saw, when it is in whetting; nor the grunting of the Swine, when its throat is cutting; nor the roaring of the Sea, when they desire to take rest. And if, perchance, Music delights them, first they ought to consider, that many wise men have lived happy, before Airs were ever composed; then that much greater Pleasure is taken in reading, than hearing Songs. Then as a little before we turned over the Blind to the Pleasures of the Ears, so may we the Deaf, to that of the Eyes; for he that can speak with himself; will not much need the Discourse of another. Put case that all Evils were heaped on one man, so that he were both Blind and Deaf; further, oppressed with most sharp Pains of the Body; which first of themselves use to dispatch the man; but if, perchance, they be drilled out to any length of time, and yet torment so violently, that we should not see reason enough to endure them any longer; good Gods! why do we make much difficulty? for the Harbour is at hand, death upon the spot, an eternal receptacle into a State of insensibility. Theodorus said to Lysimachus, threatening him with death, you have, indeed, raised yourself to great advancement, if you can compare in power with a Spanish Fly. Paul, when King Perses petitioned him not to be led in Triumph, replied, That is in your own Power. Much hath been said of death the first day, when the Debate was expressly concerning death; and not a little, the second, when the Subject was about Pain; he that can remember that, is in no great danger of not thinking death either to be desired, or at least not to be feared.  


(k) That he heard ill.] M. Crassus the Triumvir, one of the three Keepers of the Liberty of Rome, with Pompey and Julius Caesar; he certainly lay under a flagrant infamy of unsatiable Covetousness, both at home, and with the Persians. On this account Tully inveighs against him in his last Paradox. He was also brought into some suspicion in the matter of Catiline, but there compurged by him; and perhaps he doth the like here, only in point of disaffection to the Government, in his time established.   

(l) Our Epicureans.] A colour or facetious Argument, taken to expose that Sect.   

(m) Why do we make much difficulty?] A Stoical case to favour impatience in Pain.   

(n) Theodorus.] Called Atheist, was sent Ambassador by Ptolemy to Lysimachus King of Thrace, where speaking resolutely, he was threatened by him, who was of a choleric Temper; when he bid him come no more into his presence; he replied, he would not, unless Ptolemy sent him again. Some of the Fathers count him falsely traduced of Atheism, because he disallowed the worship of the Greeks; and being a Cyrenian, and known to Ptolemy, he might have acquaintance with the Alexandrian Jews.     

SECT. XLI. That it is an opinion, almost universally, held by the Philosophers, that wise men are always happy.  
THAT order seems, in my judgement, fit to be observed in Life, which is enjoined in the treats of the Greeks, either drink or be gone. And reason good, for either let a man enjoy the pleasure of taking his Cup with others, or let him timely withdraw, lest, he being sober, be fallen upon by the rest in a drunken Fit. So should a man avoid, by retiring, what injuries of Fortune he cannot sustain. These same directions of Epicurus, repeats Hierom word for word. Now if those Philosophers, who are of the opinion, that virtue of itself is of no consideration; all that we call honest and praiseworthy, they say to be mere Jargon, and a pure Rant; yet if these judge the wise man to be always happy; what, I pray, do you think should the Philosophers descended from Socrates and Plato do? some of which, say there is so great excellency in the goods of the mind, that those of the Body and external ones, are eclipsed by them; others do not so much as count them goods; place all their advantages in their mind. Which Controversy of theirs, Carneades was wont to moderate, as an Umpire to which both Parties referred their Cause to be compromised. For whereas what things the Peripatetics think goods, the Stoics count the same Conveniencies, and yet the Peripatetics do not attribute more to Riches, Health, and other things of like Nature; then the Stoics, since they were to be weighed by reality, not words, he denied there was any just cause of Dissension. Wherefore let the Philosophers of other Persuasions, look to it, how they can gain this Point. Yet I am pleased that they make a profession beseeming Philosophers, about wise men's title to living in perpetual happiness. But since we must be going to morrow, let us comprise in memory these five days Debates. And to say the truth, I think I shall draw them up in writing (for upon what can we better employ this leisure, such as it is?) and we will send these other five Books to our Friend Brutus, by whom we have not only been invited to the making Philosophical Treatises, but also provoked. Wherein how much we shall profit others, we cannot easily tell; but for our own most bitter griefs, and various disquiets, charging us on every side, no other relief could be found.  


(o) This leisure, such as it is.] Spoken with some Stomach for his being at that time in Prudence, obliged to compound for his safety by retirement from his honourable Employments.   

(p) But also provoked.] By example; and the address of his Book upon alike Subject.     
FINIS.   


THE CONTENTS Of the First BOOK. Comforts against Death. The Prologue, Sect. 1, 2, 3, 4.  
SECT. I. THAT the Greeks were inferior to the Romans, in most Points of useful knowledge. Page 1.  
SECT. II. However Superior in Poetry, Pictures, Music and Geometry. P. 3.  
SECT. III. Equalled by them in Oratory; which is encouragement to set upon Philosophy. P. 5.  
SECT. IV. Philosophy joined with Oratory, is more beneficial. P. 6.  
SECT. V. The Position that the Proponent taketh Death to be Evil. P. 8.  
SECT. VI The local Hell of the Poets to be fictitious. P. 10.  
SECT. VII. They who are not, are not miserable. P. 12.  
SECT. VIII. Nor is dying miserable, but essayed to be proved rather good. P. 14.  
SECT. IX. What Death is. What the Soul, in vulgar opinion. P. 16.  
SECT. X. What it is in the judgement of divers Philosophers. P. 17.  
SECT. XI. Inferences from these different Opinions. P. 19  
SECT. XII. Arguments for the Souls subsistence after death, from immemorial Tradition, from Funeral Rites, and from the veneration of ancient Heroes. P. 21.  
SECT. XIII. From this, that there is a Tradition of the Superior Gods, having been Men deceased. P. 23.  
SECT. XIV. From an innate care of Posterity; Zeal for the State. P. 25.  
SECT. XV— And thirst after Glory. P. 26.  
SECT. XVI. That dead men's Souls abide in Caverns under Earth, is the groundless Fiction of Poets, or imposture of Magicians. P. 28.  
SECT. XVII. That it is more likely they ascend. P. 30.  
SECT. XVIII. Nor vanish. P. 32.  
SECT. XIX. But mount the Sky. P. 33.  
SECT. XX. And thence contemplate Nature. P. 35.  
SECT. XXI. That the Epicureans who plead for Annihilation, have no such reason to triumph in their Scheme of Natural knowledge improved. P. 37.  
SECT. XXII. An immaterial Substance, though invisible, may subsist of itself, as God so the Soul. P. 38.  
SECT. XXIII. Arguments for the immortality of the Soul, from its being the principle of its own Motion. P. 40.  
SECT. XXIV. From the capaciousness of its memory. P. 41.  
SECT. XXV. Corollaries upon the former Arguments, from that of Invention. P. 44.  
SECT. XXVI. From further Endowments. P. 46.  
SECT. XXVII. From its Divine Original. P. 48.  
SECT. XXVIII. From its Faculties. P. 49.  
SECT. XXIX. From its Nature. P. 51.  
SECT. XXX. From the Authority of Socrates and Cato. P. 52.  
SECT. XXXI. From the Sequestering itself from the Body, in Meditation, as in Death. P. 54.  
SECT. XXXII. The Adversaries of the Souls immortality confuted. P. 56.  
SECT. XXXIII. The Arguments of Panaetius answered. P. 58.  
SECT. XXXIV. Upon Supposition of the Souls mortality, Death is not evil, being a departure from Evils. P. 59  
SECT. XXXV. Or from uncertain Goods. P. 61.  
SECT. XXXVI. Such as we shall not miss. P. 63.  
SECT. XXXVII. Since it hath not appeared dreadful even to common Soldiers. P. 65.  
SECT. XXXVIII. Much less should it hinder promoting the public Good; but as Death is not terrible, so neither is it amiable. P. 67.  
SECT. XXXIX. The opinion of untimely Death examined. P. 68  
SECT. XL. We must live in our places undaunted, and when our time is come, die contented after the example of Theramenes. P. 70.  
SECT. XLI. Socrates. P. 72.  
SECT. XLII. The Spartans'. P. 73.  
SECT. XLIII. And Theodorus the Cyrenian. A digression to the Point of Burial. P. 75.  
SECT. XLIV. Cruelty towards dead Enemies, and lamenting unburied Friends reproved. P. 77.  
SECT. XLV. The Customs of some Savages herein condemned; what decency to be observed in interment of the dead. P. 80.  
SECT. XLVI. Glory after death, should abate the fear of dying in prosperity. P. 82.  
SECT. XLVII. An Epilogue after the mode of the Greek Rhetoricians, who would persuade us that Death is the greatest good that can befall man, and that from Divine Testimonies. P. 84.  
SECT. XLVIII. From those of Demigods, Oracles, and Panegyrical Commemorations of such as have died for their Country. P. 87.  
SECT. XLIX. The Close of all, applies the substance of the present Debate, to the Readers benefit. P. 89.   

THE CONTENTS Of the Second BOOK. Patience under Pain. The Proem, Sect, 1, 2, 3, 4.  
SECT. I. THE benefit of Philosophy. P. 92.  
SECT. II. That the Academic Scheme is cautious and modest. P. 95.  
SECT. III. The Epicurean only regarded by its own Followers. P. 97.  
SECT. IV. The bad lives of some Teachers only scandal to their Persons, not Doctrines. P. 99  
SEOT. V. The Position maketh Pain the greatest of all Evils. P. 101.  
SECT. VI The different Maxims of Philosophers on that Subject. P. 103.  
SECT. VII. Epicurus contradicts himself herein. The Tragical Impatiences of Philoctetes. P. 104.  
SECT. VIII. IX. Hercules. P. 106. 108.  
SECT. X. Prometheus. P. 109.  
SECT. XI. Digression against the Poets. P. 111.  
SECT. XII. And some Heterodox Philosophers. P. 114.  
SECT. XIII. Pain must not betray us to indecent carriage. P. 115.  
SECT. XIV. Must be opposed with Courage. P. 117.  
SECT. XV. Inuring to labour, disposeth to a patient enduring of Pain. P. 120.  
SECT. XVI. XVII. The Power of Exercise. P. 121. 123.  
SECT. XVIII. The force of Reason. P. 126.  
SECT. XIX. The direction of Epicurus impracticable. P. 127.  
SECT. XX. Virtue personated making her Exhortation. p. 129.  
SECT. XXI. The manner of subduing our Passion to Reason. p. 130.  
SECT. XXII. Armour against Impatience. p. 133.  
SECT. XXIII. Faintness of Spirit dishonourable. p. 136.  
SECT. XXIV. Resolution necessary to War. p. 137.  
SECT. XXV.— in Trials at home. p. 140.  
SECT. XXVI.— and in all laudable Enterprises. p. 142.  
SECT. XXVII. Our Patience must be of equal Temper, as to the Field in Battle, or the Bed of Sickness. p. 144.   

THE CONTENTS Of the Third BOOK. The Cure of Discontent. Premised in Sect. 1, 2, 3.  
SECT. I. THE Reluctancy of depraved Man against his Souls Cure; with some Causes of his Depravity. p. 148.  
SECT. II. Further Causes of the Depravation of Humane Nature. p. 150.  
SECT. III. That the Soul may have Remedies for its Distempers. p. 151.  
SECT. IV. The Position offers it as a probable opinion, that a Wise man is liable to Discontent. p. 153.  
SECT. V. That men imported by Passions are Mad. p. 154.  
SECT. VI The absurdity of denying a Wise man all use of the Affections, is declined. p. 157.  
SECT. VII. The Position impugned by an Argument from the Topick of Fortitude. p. 158.  
SECT. VIII. By another from that of Temperance. p. 160.  
SECT. IX. By an Induction from particular Passions, as of Wrath, Envy. p. 161.  
SECT. X. And Pity. p. 163.  
SECT. XI. The Cause of Dissatisfaction is a mistake in Judgement. p. 165.  
SECT. XII. The Picture of Discontent in certain unfortunate Princes. p. 167.  
SECT. XIII. We should not despair whatever our Circumstances be. p. 169.  
SECT. XIV. Meditation on possible Mishaps abates their Evil when come. p. 170.  
SECT. XV. Is also ground of Constancy. p. 172.  
SECT. XVI. The contrary Tenet of Epicurus and his Followers. p. 174.  
SECT. XVII. The true Remedy assigned. p. 175.  
SECT. XVIII. And verified in the Case of Thyestes, Aeetes, Telamonius. p. 177.  
SECT. XIX. And Andromache. p. 180.  
SECT. XX. Epicurus proved inconstant to his own Principles. p. 182.  
SECT. XXI. The stoutness of the Epicureans taken down. p. 184.  
SECT. XXII. The judgement of the Cyrenian Sect, how far allowable. p. 185.  
SECT. XXIII. Forecast of possible Calamities is needful. p. 187.  
SECT. XXIV. The use of Precedents. p. 189.  
SECT. XXV. The Cavil, that the common condition of Mortality, is ineffectual in point of Comfort, examined. p. 191.  
SECT. XXVI. Trouble of mind to be a Duty, is a mistake. p. 192.  
SECT. XXVII. Farther illustrated. p. 194.  
SECT. XXVIII. That mistake rectified by Consideration, that our Sorrow availeth nothing. p. 196.  
SECT. XXIX. That the matter of our disquiet is by misapprehension, aggravated beyond its own Nature. p. 199.  
SECT. XXX. That Motives of Consolation too often prove ineffectual, proceeds not from defect in them, but our own Indisposition. p. 201.  
SECT. XXXI. Directory for Comforters, as to the Season. p. 203.  
SECT. XXXII.— the Method. p. 204.  
SECT. XXXIII. That it is a Duty not to be swallowed up of Grief. p. 205.  
SECT. XXXIV. A Passage cleared to the Remedies of Disquiet arising from the particular Passions. p. 207.   

THE CONTENTS Of the Fourth BOOK. The Government of the Passions. The Preface, Sect. 1, 2, 3.  
SECT. I. THE ancient Romans, probably not Strangers to polite Learning, because Borderers upon Greece the Great. p. 209.  
SECT. II. Because acquainted with Music, Poetry, and Oratory. p. 211.  
SECT. III. But Philosophy was of later date with the Romans. p. 212.  
SECT. IV. The Position. That it is probable th●● a wise man is not free from all Passion. p. 214.  
SECT. V. The method of the ensuing Disputation. p. 216.  
SECT. VI The Definition of the Passions in general. p. 217.  
SECT. VII. The Intellect to be accessary to the Passions. p. 219.  
SECT. VIII. The subordinate Passions defined; those under Discontent and Fear. p. 220.  
SECT. IX. Those under Pleasure and Lust. p. 222.  
SECT. X. The Original of the Souls Distempers. p. 223.  
SECT. XI. The Cause of Passion and Antipathy. p. 224.  
SECT. XII. The Analogy between the Souls and Bodies Sickness in ill habits. p. 226.  
SECT. XIII. The Similitude between Soundness and Unsoundness of Body and Soul. p. 227.  
SECT. XIV. Their Dissimilitude. p. 229.  
SECT. XV. The Cure of the Souls Infirmities. p. 230.  
SECT. XVI.— Especially to be in Moderation. p. 231.  
SECT. XVII. This Moderation to be peculiar to the wise man. p. 233.  
SECT. XVIII. That the object of this Moderation, must not be Vice. p. 235.  
SECT. XIX. The Peripatetics opinion about moderating the Passions— of Anger and Lust. p. 236.  
SECT. XX— And Discontent. p. 238.  
SECT. XXI. Against this moderation is opposed the Stoics definition of the Passions. p. 239.  
SECT. XXII. That magnanimity is not the product of Anger. p. 240.  
SECT. XXIII.— but Reason. p. 242.  
SECT. XXIV. This use of Anger confuted. p. 243.  
SECT. XXV. The Indignation of Orators, Displeasure of Parents, and other Governors, regular. p. 245.  
SECT. XXVI. The pretended benefit of the other Passions disproven. p. 246.  
SECT. XXVII. Whence the Remedies of other Prailties are to be drawn. p. 248.  
SECT. XXVIII. The most certain method of Cure, is to convince that all Passions are of themselves culpable. p. 249.  
SECT. XXIX. Laying open the Changes common to our condition, allays excessive Grief. p. 251.  
SECT. XXX. The like Remedy of Fear. p. 252.  
SECT. XXXI. The difference between Mirth and Joy. p. 253.  
SECT. XXXII. The scandalousness of Mirth and Lust. p. 255.  
SECT. XXXIII. Inordinate Love taxed in Poets. p. 256.  
SECT. XXXIV. But more in Philosophers. p. 257.  
SECT. XXXV. The Remedy of Love. p. 259.  
SECT. XXXVI— Of Anger. p. 260.  
SECT. XXXVII. The Cause of Passions, an opinion that they are our Duty. p. 262.  
SECT. XXXVIII. The Cure of them in rectifying that mistake. p. 264.   

THE CONTENTS Of the Fifth BOOK. The chief End of Man. The Preamble Sect. 1, 2, 3, 4.  
SECT. I. THE efficacy of Virtue is not to be valued by our faint-heartedness. p. 266.  
SECT. II. Philosophy is the Rule of Life. p. 268.  
SECT. III. The Study of Wisdom is of the same standing with man. p. 270.  
SECT. IV. Pythagoras was Founder of the Italian Sect. p. 272.  
SECT. V. The Position holds, that in the Proponents judgement, Virtue alone is not sufficient to Happiness. p. 273.  
SECT. VI Peace of mind ariseth from Virtue alone. p. 276.  
SECT. VII. In Moral Subjects we must dilate on the Proofs. p. 278.  
SECT. VIII. Whether Virtue alone be sufficient to render one happy, but not most happy. p. 280.  
SECT. IX. Of the three sorts of Goods. p. 282.  
SECT. X. The Peripatetics accused of inconsistency, but Epicurus much more. p. 284.  
SECT. XI. That the Stoics cavil about words. p. 287.  
SECT. XII. That nothing should be called good but Virtue, is vindicated to have been the Tenet of Socrates. p. 289.  
SECT. XIII. That Nature hath produced all things perfect in themselves. p. 290.  
SECT. XIV. The Perfection of man is properly in his mind. p. 292.  
SECT. XV. That only what is Honest is Good. p. 294.  
SECT. XVI. Such as is the disposition of mind, such is the Life. p. 296.  
SECT. XVII. Only what may be gloried in is good. p. 298.  
SECT. XVIII. The same was also maintained by the more resolute Peripatetics. p. 299.  
SECT. XIX. The Dissimilitude between Virtue and Vice, exemplified in the Troubles in Cicero's Touth. p. 300.  
SECT. XX. The ugliness of Usurpation represented in Dionysius the Elder; by his Fears. p. 303.  
SECT. XXI. Demonstrated to his Court-flatterer. p. 305.  
SECT. XXII. And by the consequent of those Fears, his want of Friends. p. 306.  
SECT. XXIII. The praise of a virtuous Life, in Archimedes and the Philosophers. p. 308.  
SECT. XXIV. The Exercise of a Wise man is Contemplation of Nature. p. 310.  
SECT. XXV. Good Manners, right Reasoning, discharge of his place, just Government. p. 311.  
SECT. XXVI. The wise man is happy, though in Adversity. p. 313.  
SECT. XXVII. Objection from Pain against the self-sufficiency of Virtue answered. p. 315.  
SECT. XXVIII. The wise man is happy, though he be on the Rack. p. 319.  
SECT. XXIX. Whether the Peripatetics may consistently with themselves hold what the Stoics do. p. 320.  
SECT. XXX. The different Opinions about the chief Good. p. 321.  
SECT. XXXI. The denomination of the whole is from the greater part. p. 323.  
SECT. XXXII. and in 33, 34, 35. A Plea for Poverty. p. 324.  
SECT. XXXIII. That Pleasures may be purchased at an easy rate. p. 326.  
SECT. XXXIV. Examples of a light Diet in the Lacedæmonians and Persians. p. 328.  
SECT. XXXV— And in the Academy. p. 329.  
SECT. XXXVI. A Defence of obscurity in Birth and Condition. p. 331.  
SECT. XXXVII. Supports under Banishment. p. 333.  
SECT. XXXVIII & XXXIX. Blindness. p. 336, 338.  
SECT. XL. Deafness. p. 340.  
SECT. XLI. That it is an opinion, almost universally, held by the Philosophers, that wise men are always happy. p. 342.   
The End of the Contents.