L'Amour de la Verity  
MORAL REFLECTIONS    

Moral Maxims AND Reflections, In Four PARTS.  
Written in French by the Duke of ROCHEFOUCAULT.  
Now made English.  
LONDON, Printed for M. Gillyflower in Westminster-Hall, R. Sare at Grays-Inn-Gate, and J. Everingham in Ludgate street, 1694.   

THE Translator's Preface.  
AS soon as this little Book fell into my Hands, I could not forbear making Enquiry, whether any of our Countrymen had done the good Service of communicating it to the English Readers. The Entertainment it gave me, the exceeding Characters I had heard of it, (which indeed I thought Extravagant, till my own Perusal convinced me, they were its just due) and the desire of making these wise Observations, and the Advantages of them more diffusive, as well as that of impressing them more strongly upon myself, moved me to resolve upon spending some leisure hours in Naturalising this Great Foreigner. But the Undertaking soon appeared more difficult▪ than the Proportion of the Book tempted me to expect. For the Translating every where literally and concisely, would have left some Passages Dark and scarce Intelligible. And a loose Paraphrase (besides that it is a Liberty not to be indulged, except in Cases of great Necessity) would take off from the Beauty and Strength of such Reflections; the very design of which Requires a short Close Style. With what success I have endeavoured to decline both these Extremes, the Judicious Reader will discern better, because more impartially than I can; and the Failings he discovers, will, I promise myself, be easily forgiven, for the sake of so good a Design, as the giving him this Ingenious Book in our own Language. For it is to be hoped, he will think it more pardonable, that this is done now by a very indifferent and unknown Hand, than that it hath not had this Right done it, by some of the best and most Eminent, before.  
Mrs. Behn indeed hath attempted part of it, but she seems not to have intended a perfect Work, so much as the Entertaining herself and her Lysander, with such Passages as were most applicable to her Darling Passion of Love. Upon which occasion and some others, she takes the Freedom of Paraphrasing, and Accommodating as she saw fit, more perhaps to her own Diversion, than the doing Justice to the Author. And besides Her's is only a Collection of some scattered Reflections out of the First and Second, without any Notice taken of the Third and Fourth Parts.  
This Translation follows the Edition of Lions 1691. But because there is another of the same Year at Paris, without any distinction of Parts, in which there are several Additions, to what my Original hath in the two first Books, I have taken care to subjoin those Additions at the end of the second Part here; and believe that in Comparing the two Books together none will be found to have escaped me, nor any other difference between them now remaining, except in the Order of the Reflections. The Passages added are likewise Numbered according to the Paris Edition, from whence they are taken. The French Preface to the Reader Translated from thence, because something larger; and referring particularly to a Discourse upon these Reflections, wholly wanting in the Impression at Loins. That Discourse (Englished by another Hand) is likewise inserted here, the design whereof is to remove some Objections, to which this Book hath been thought liable. So that all due care hath been taken that this Translation might have its utmost Perfection, and the Author now appears in English more full, and with much greater Advantage, than any Edition of his, that ever I yet saw in the Original Language.   

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.  
THE General Approbation which the Public has been pleased to give these Moral Reflections, is infinitely above what I am able to say in their Favour; and if they are really of that intrinsic Value, as I take them to be, and have very good Reasons to believe, 'tis almost impossible to do them a greater injury, than to imagine they stand in need of an Apology.  
I shall at present content myself to remark too things; First, That by the word Interest, our Author does not always understand what we commonly call worldly Interest, which has the pursuit of Wealth for its only Object, but an Interest of Honour and Glory. My Second Remark is, (and 'tis in a manner the Foundation of all these Reflections) that the judicious person who made them, only considers Mankind in the present Deplorable State of Nature, as 'tis overrun with Ignorance and corrupted by Sin; and therefore whatever he says of that infinite number of defects that are to be found in their apparent Virtues, does not in the least concern those Happy but few favourites whom Heaven is pleased to preserve from them by a particular Grace.  
To remove the prejudices which some well meaning▪ People have entertained against these Maxims, I thought it convenient to insert the following Letter, which lately fell into my Hands, and was Written since the first Edition of this Manuscript; and now at this juncture, when every Reader takes the freedom to pass his own judgement upon them, it comes out very seasonably to clear the principal Difficulties that may be urged against these Reflections, as also to explain the true Sentiments of our Author. This at least it has performed, it has abundantly Demonstrated them to contain nothing but a pure Abridgement of Morality, conformable to several Fathers of the Church, and that the Person who Writ them, had a great deal of reason to believe, that he could not well miss his way in following such Experienced and Disinterested Guides. And lastly, that he had full Liberty to speak of Man after the very same manner as the Fathers had done before him.  
Now after all, if the Veneration which is due to these Illustrious Lights of the Church, is not sufficient to stop the Mouths of the Critics; but they are resolved in Opposition to good Manners and Sense, to condemn the Opinion of these Great Men, in condemning this Book, I would advise the Reader not to be influenced by such partial Judges, nor suffer himself to be determined by the first Motions he finds arise in his Heart, and to take all imaginable care that Self-love shall have no share in the judgement which he passes upon them; for if he suffers himself to be Directed by so corrupt a Counsellor, it is not to be supposed that he will show any great favour to these Maxims. As they particularly charge Self-love with Debauching the Reason, that powerful Seducer will be sure by way of Requital, to prepossess the Mind against them. Upon this score, the Reader ought to take care that this prevention or prejudice shall not justify the Truth of them, and to persuade himself that nothing can so effectually Establish the truth of these Reflections, as that Heat or Subtlety he expresses in combating them. But as it will be a difficult matter to persuade every sensible Man that he cannot condemn them out of any other Motive than that of Interest disguised, of Pride, and Self-love; the best way the Reader can take in my Opinion, is to satisfy himself that none of these Maxims concern him in particular, and that he alone is excepted from them, although they seem to be General. After he has done this, I dare Answer for him that he will be the first Man that shall Subscribe to the truth of them, and what is more, believe that they are of mighty benefit to the World in Discovering all the weaknesses and Foibles of Mankind.  
As for what regards the order of these Reflections, the Reader will at first view discover that as they are all upon different matters, it was in a manner impossible to place them in an exact Method. And tho' there are several upon the same Subject, it was not judged à propos to place them always one after another for fear of Disgusting the Reader, who is generally best entertained with an agreeable Variety.  

A Discourse upon the Reflections, or Sentences, and Moral Maxims, in a Letter to a Friend.  
Sir,  
I Am not able positively to tell you whether the Moral Reflections were Writ by Monsieur De— although the Style and Manner of them seem to resemble his. But give me leave, Sir, to tell you, that upon these occasions, I generally disengage myself from popular Reports, and 'tis enough to make me believe, that they do not belong to him, because the public opinion has fathered them upon him. Thus I have fairly and ingenuously answered your first Question, and as for the rest, if you had not an absolute Authority over me, which I must never Dispute, I should wave a farther Examination of them; for a man so highly prepossessed, as I am, in his esteem for this Work, has not that liberty to judge truly of it as is requisite; nevertheless since you have been pleased to order it so, I will frankly give you my Opinion without any design, to set up for a maker of Dissertations, or concerning myself with the Person who is supposed to have Writ this Book. 'Tis easy to discover at first Sight, that it was never designed to visit the World, but only Writ for the Satisfaction of a Person, who in my Opinion does not Aspire to the Glory of being an Author; and if it should happen to belong to Monsieur De—, I can assure you, that his Reputation is Established in the World by so many better Titles, that he would be no less disturbed to hear that these Reflections are made public, than he was when the Memoirs that were attributed to him were Printed. But, Sir, you need not be informed what a propensity there is in this Age to publish all manner of Novelties, and especially those that go under any celebrated Name, which of itself is sufficient to recommend them to the World. This you know is an undoubted Truth, Names alone, set a price upon things with those People that are not in a capacity of finding out their intrinsic value. The true merit of these Reflections is understood but by a very few People, though 'tis certain that abundance of presuming Wou'd-be-Wits pretend to give you their Opinions of them. As for myself, I don't pretend to have Delicacy and Penetration enough to form a true judgement of them; I say, Delicacy and Penetration, because to qualify a man for such a Province, he must be master both of one and the other; and though it were possible for me to flatter myself, that I possessed both these qualities, I am inclined to believe that I should find but very few passages in these Reflections to amend. I can there discover nothing but a happy Force and Spirit, thoughts truly Elevated and Bold, a noble turn of Expression accompanied with a certain air of Quality, that does not belong to all that have vanity enough to set up for Authors. I own indeed there is not that Order and Art in them which one would desire, and that a Learned Man, who enjoyed a greater share of leisure than our Author's affairs seem to allow him, would have thrown them into a better Method. But a Man who purely Writes for himself, and to divert his mind after the fatigue of other Business, who sets down his Thoughts just as they come into his Head, does not so religiously observe the niceties of Rules, as they who make a profession and business of Writing, and hope to get reputation by their Pens. Nevertheless this Irregularity has its peculiar Graces, and such Graces too as Art can never imitate. I don't know whether you will agree with me in this point, but tho' I am sure of incurring the Indignation of the Critics by what I am going to say, yet I cannot forbear to affirm to you, that as long as I live, I shall make no scruple to prefert the easy negligent stile of persons of Condition, which has Wit and Spirit in it, to the slavish regularity of a Doctor that never conversed with any thing but his Books. 
† Dictaque factaque ejus quanto solutiora, & quandam sui negligentiam praeferentia, tanto gratius in speciem simplicitatis accipiebantur, Tac. Ann, l. 16.  The more easy and negligent he appeared in whatever he said or did, the more agreeably was it received for its natural and simple Air. I borrow this passage out of Tacitus, and have set down the Latin in the Margin, that if you are so minded, you may read it; and tho' I am sensible how great a Master you are of that Language, yet since this Discourse, may possibly reach other hands that are utterly unacquainted with it, I shall follow the same conduct when ever I have any occasion to make Citations. Now, Sir, is it not an unquestionable truth, that this justness and affectation which is sought after with so much study, always carries a certain stiffness and constraint that displeases us? And that these Gentlemen who are such slaves to Rules, have none of those Beauties where Art disguises itself under the appearances of Nature, that happy Talon of Writing easily and nobly; or in fine, that which 
* Cant. 17.  Tasso says of the Palace of Armida,  
Stimi (si misto il culto é col negletto,)  
Sol naturali gli ornamenti e i siti,  
Di natura arte par, che per diletto  
L' imitatrice sua scherzando imiti.  
In English it runs thus.  
Art in this Beauteous pile can claim no praise,  
Nature alone did the fair Fabric raise  
But so well has she copied her design,  
That cheated by an Object so Divine,  
We think that Art has followed nature's line.  
Thus I have briefly acquainted you with my Sentiments of this Work in general, but at the same time am sensible that this is not enough to satisfy you, since you request me to answer all those Objections more particularly, which you tell me have been urged against it. As I remember, the first is as follows, viz. That these Reflections destroy all the Virtues: To which it may be answered, That our Author was far from entertaining the least inclinations to destroy them; he only pretends to show that they are seldom to be seen in a perfect state of Purity, and that the greatest part of our Actions are never without a mixture of Error and Truth, Perfection and Imperfection, Vice and Virtue. He considers the Hearts of Men corrupted, invaded by Pride and Self-love, and encompassed about with ill Examples, as the Governor of a Town besieged, who is in want of Silver; he makes Money of Leather and Pasteboard. This Money in shape and figure resembles the good, 'tis put off at the same Price, but nothing but downright misery and necessity makes it go current among the Besieged. After the same manner, the generality of humane Actions which pass with the world for so many Virtues, oftentimes have only the bare image and resemblance of them. Nevertheless they don't cease to carry some merit with them, and to challenge our esteem in some measure, it being very difficult humanely speaking to have any better. But admitting our Author believed, that there was no truly perfect virtue in Man, yet considering him in the pure state of Nature, he is not the first that advanced this Opinion. If I were not afraid to lie under the Scandal of a mighty Man in Quotation with you, I could cite you several Authors, nay, Fathers of the Church and celebrated Saints, who were of Opinion, that Self-love and Pride were the very Soul of the most Heroical Actions the Pagans can boast off. I could make it appear that some of them have not even pardoned the chastity of Lucretia, whom all the World believed to be virtuous, till they discovered the falsity of that virtue, which produced the liberty of Rome, and has drawn the admiration of so many Ages after it. Can you imagine, Sir, that Seneca himself who makes his Wiseman stand upon the same level with the Gods, was truly wise, or that he was really persuaded of what he endeavours to inculcate to other people with so much Insolence and Ostentation? 
* Jovem plus non posse quam bonum virum. Sen. Epist. 83. Deus non vincit sapientem foelicitate, etiamsi vincit aetate. Sen. ibid.  Nevertheless, his Pride could not hinder him from owning in other 
b Ubi enim illum invenies quem tot saeculis quaerimus sapientem, pro optimo est minimè malus. Sen. de Tranq.  places that he had never beheld in the World an example of that Idea which he proposed; that it was impossible to find so consummate a virtue among Men, and that the most perfect among them was he who had the fewest Defects. 
c Objicite Platoni quod petierit pecuniam, Aristoteli quòd acceperit, Epicuro quod consumpserit, Socrati Alcibiadem & Phaedram objectate, O vos usu Maximè foelices, cum primum vobis imitari vitia nostra contigerit. Senec. de Vit. Beat.  He frankly confesses that one may reproach Socrates with maintaining some suspected Correspondences, Plato and Aristotle with being Covetous, and Epicurus with his Prodigality and Pleasure. And yet he cries out in a most wonderful Passion at the same time, that we should be but too happy, could we arrive to Copy and imitate their very Vices. This worshipful Philosopher had been much in the right on't, if he had said as much of his own Vices; for to say the Truth, a Man would not have been over unhappy, could he have been able to enjoy, as this poor Stoic did, all manner of Riches, Honour and Pleasure at the same time when he made a mean of despising them; to see himself absolute 
* Senecam adoriuntur tanquam ingentes & supra privatum modum evectas opes adhuc augeret, quódque studia civium in se verteret, hortorum quoque amoenitate, & villarum magnificentia quasi principem supergrederetur. Tac. Ann. l. 14.  Master of the Empire, and Emperor; nay, and a Gallant of the Empress at the same time; to possess magnificent Palaces, delicious Gardens, and thus full stretched at his ease, as he was, to preach up Moderation and Constancy, and the Lord knows what in the midst of a prodigious plenty and wealth. Do you believe, Sir, that this mortified Hypocrite, who so well counterfeited the Master of his Passions, could in Conscience pretend to any Virtue but that single one of concealing his Vices, and that when he ordered his Veins to be opened, he did not repent him a thousand times that he left his Imperial Pupil the power to make him Die? Do but view this mighty Pretender at a nearer distance, and you'll see that in making all these fine reasonings upon the immortality of the Soul, he endeavours to Hoodwink himself against the fears of Death; he summons up all his forces to make a solemn Grimace at parting: he bites his Tongue lest he should confess that pain is an Evil; he pretends that Reason is able to 
* Sapientem si in Phalaridis tauro peruratur, exclamaturum dulce est, & add me nihil attinet. Epic. apud Sen.  divest a man of all Passion, and instead of humbling his Pride, he raises himself above the Divinity. Now in my Opinion he had acted much more like an honest Man, if he had fairly owned the Weaknesses and Corruption of Humane Nature, and not taken so much pains to Banter the World with his impracticable Notions. On the other hand, the Author of these Reflections uses a different Conduct; he lays open all the Miseries of Man, but then we must understand him of Man, as he is abandoned to his own Caprice, and not of a Christian. He makes it evidently appear, that in spite of all the Efforts of his reason, Pride and Self-love will still take Sanctuary in some of the most private recesses of his Heart, where they meet from time to time with sufficient nourishment to spread their Venom imperceptibly upon the greatest part of its Movements.  
The second Objection you told me of, and which has a great deal of Affinity with the former, is, That these Reflections pass in the World rather from the Subtleties of an Austere Censor, who puts an ill Construction upon the most indifferent Actions, than for solid Truths. You tell me that some of your Friends have assured you with all the imaginable appearances of Sincerity that they knew by their own experience, that a man does sometimes do good without having any other view or prospect than that of good; nay, sometimes without any view at all, either for Good or Evil, but by a natural integrity of mind, which inclined him to what is good without his own thinking of it. I wish it were in my power to believe these Gentlemen upon their word, and that it were true that Humane Nature has none but reasonable Motions, and that all our Actions were naturally virtuous. But, Sir, how shall we reconcile the testimony of your Friends to the sentiments of the greatest Fathers of the Church, who have assured us, That all our Virtues without the Assistance of Faith, are only imperfections, that our will was born blind; that its desires were blind, its Conduct still more blind, and that it was no wonder if a man under so much blindness was in a perpetual state of wand'ring. Nor is this all, for they proceed to talk in a higher strain, and tell us that in such a condition, the prudence of man does not penetrate into future things, and appoints nothing but as it has a relation to Pride; that his Temperance moderates no excesses, but those that his Pride condemned before, that his constancy no farther supports its self under the pressure of Calamities, than as it is encouraged by his Pride; and lastly, that all his virtues with that exterior pomp of merit, which makes them be admired, had no other end but this Admiration, the love of vain Glory, and the interest of Pride. One might find almost an infinite number of Authorities upon this Opinion, but if I should once begin to cite them regularly to you, the effect would be, that I should give myself a little more trouble by the same token that you would not receive more pleasure by it. For this consideration, I think the best way both for you and me, will be to give you an Abridgement of all this Controversy, done by an excellent Poet of our time in the compass of six Verses.  

* Brebeuf. Fol.  Si le jour de la Foy.  
Reason would blindly wander in the Night,  
If active Faith withdrew the cheerful Light.  
Aspiring Pride deludes the darkened mind,  
And turns to poison what was good designed.  
Self-love invades each corner of the Soul,  
Turns Vice to Virtue and corrupts the Whole.  
After all, if we must right or wrong believe that your Friends have the gift of this lively Faith, that suppresses all the ill inclinations of Self-love, if God has bestowed such extraordinary favours upon them, and sanctifies them from the common impurities of the World, I will with all my heart give my Vote for their Canonization, and here freely declare to them that the Moral Reflections don't in the least concern them. There is no reason to imagine that the Person who Writ them, ever designed to meddle with the Saints; for as I told you before, his business is only with Man as he is corrupted. He maintains that he generally commits evil when his Self-love flatters him that he's doing good, and that he often deceives himself when he would judge of himself, because nature does not sincerely explain to him the real Motives that make him Act. In this wretched state where Pride is the original of all his Actions, the Saints are the first that declare War against him, and treat him infinitely worse than the Author of the Reflections does. If you should have a desire at any time to consult those passages which I have observed in their Writings upon this Article, you will soon be persuaded that I have told you nothing but the truth; but I request you to satisfy yourself for the present with these Verses, which will in part explain to you what others thought about this matter.  

* Brebeuf, Entr. fol.  Le desir des honneurs.  
The lust of Honour, Riches, and Delight,  
Produces Vice, and leads us to the Right.  
Blind Interest the wavering heart over sways,  
And to fresh errors the vain slave betrays.  
Nay, remedies produce a sharper pain,  
One ill suppressed, another strait does reign.  
While here this Tyrant does Triumphant ride,  
One sin is by a second sin destroyed.  
Montagne, whom I cannot without some remorse of Conscience quote to you after the Fathers of the Church, says happily enough upon the same subject, that his Soul has two different Faces; that in vain she endeavoured to look back upon herself, for she only perceives that which Self-love has disguised, while the other is perceived by those who are not concerned in the Masquerade. If I durst build upon so bold a Metaphor, I would say that the Soul of a Man corrupted, is made like those Medals which represent the Figure of a Saint, and that of a Devil in one Face, and by the same strokes, 'tis nothing but the different situation of those that look upon it, that changes the object; one Man sees a Saint, and the other sees a Devil. These Comparisons may serve to instruct us, that when Self-love has once got possession of the heart, Pride does so effectually blind the Reason, and spreads so vast an obscurity over all its faculties, that it cannot form a true judgement of the least of our motions, nor of itself give us any certain rules for our conduct. Men, says 
* 
Velut silvis ubi passim.  
Palantes error certo de tramite pellit.  
Ille sinistrorsum hic dextrorsum abit, unus utrique.  
Error, sed varijs illudit partibus▪ Hor. Serm. 2. Lib. Sat. 3.   Horace, Here upon the Stage of this World are like a company of Travellers whom Night has surprised as they are passing through a Foreit; they march on relying upon the honesty of the Guide, who immediately puts them out of their way, either through malice or ignorance. All of them use what care they can to find the beaten Path again, every one takes a different way, and is in good hopes his is the best; the more they fill themselves with these vain imaginations, the farther they wander; but though they all wander a different way, yet it proceeds from one and the same cause; 'tis the Guide that deceived them, and the obscurity of the Night hinders them from recoveing the right Road. Is it possible for any one to paint out in Livelier Colours the blindness and perpetual inquietudes of Man abandoned to his own foolish Conduct, who listens to nothing but the Whisper of his Pride, who thinks he goes naturally right to what is good, and who always believes that the last he finds is the best? Is it not certain that at the very moment when he flatters himself that he's doing some good Action, 'tis then that the wandering of his heart is most dangerous and fatal to him? There is such a prodigious number of Wheels that compose the movement of this Clock, and the first spring of it so hard to be discovered, that though we plainly see what hour the day it is by the Dial, yet we cannot tell which is the prime motion that conducts the hand upon all the spaces in the Plate.  
The Third Objection which lies upon me to answer, is that abundance of people complain of the great obscurity in the Sense, as also in the expression of the Reflections. You need not be informed, Sir, that obscurity is not always the Author's fault. Reflections, or if you please, Maxims and Sentences, as the World has been pleased to call these, aught to be Writ in a succinet close Style, that hinders a Man from giving that perspicuity in his Writings which is to be desired. They are like the first schetches of a Picture where an ingenious Eye will easily remark all the perfection of Art, and the beauty of the Painter's design. But then this Beauty is not understood by all the World, and altho' the lineaments are not set out in their proper colours; yet for all that, they discover a masterly hand. For this reason the Reader ought to penetrate into the sense and force of the words, the mind ought to run over the whole extent of their signification before it sits down and proceeds to judgement▪  
The Fourth Objection, unless I am mistaken was this, That the Maxims for the most part are too General. You have been told that 'tis a piece of Injustice to fix the defects of particular Men upon the whole Race. Besides the account I have received from you of the different opinions you have heard upon this Subject, I know what uses to be Generally Objected to those Persons who discover and condemn Vices. Their censure is called the Portraiture of a Painter; 'tis urged against them that they resemble People that are troubled with the Yellow Jaundice, who see every thing Yellow because they are so themselves. Now if it were true that a Man cannot censure the corruption of the Heart in General, without finding more of it in himself than another does, we ought then to take it for granted that those Philosophers, whose Apophthegms have been delivered down to us by Diogenes Laertius, were the greatest Debauchees of their times; we ought to attack the memory of Cato, and believe he was the most profligate wretch in Rome, because he censured the vices of the Republic. If this is the case, I dare swear for the Author of the Reflections, whoever he is, that he will not be much troubled at the ill nature of his Adversaries, since the business of Religion excepted, he will scarce be taken either for a better or wiser Man than Cato. As for what regards his expression, which some persons pretend is too general, I can only say this, that it is a difficult matter to avoid it in sentences, without robbing them of all their Salt, their Force and Spirit. Nor is this all, for common conversation teaches us that even where general expressions are used, we take them in a limited Sense with such and such Restrictions, and this without any body's interposing to instruct us; as for Example, when we hear a Man cry, All Paris went to meet the King, or all the Court is in Mourning, every one knows that it only signifies the greatest part. If you are of opinion that these Reasons are not sufficient to stop the Mouths of the Critics, you need only tell them that when Gentlemen are so easily scandalised at the terms of a general Censure, 'tis because it touches them after too lively a manner in the most sensible part of their hearts.  
'Tis indeed very certain, that you and I are acquainted with several Persons of great Worth and Honour, who are not in the least offended at the freedom of these Reflections, I mean, those that have a mortal aversion to Hypocrisy, and who make no scruple at all to confess both what they feel in themselves, and what they observe in others. But few People are capable of thinking of them aright, or that will put themselves to the severe expense of doing it, and if by mere accident they do, Self-flattery still attends them, and so hinders the operation of the Physic. Let me entreat you to call to mind after what manner our Friend Guarini treats these empty pretenders.  

* Guarini Pastor Fido. Act. 1. Sc. 1. Homo sum, humani nihil à me alienum. Heau●ont. Act. 1. Sc. 1. Terent.  Huomo sono, e mi preggio d' esser humano,  
E teco, che sei huomo,  
E ch' altro esser non puos,  
Come huomo parlo di cosa humana.  
E se di cotal nome force tisdegni,  
Guarda Garzon Superbo,  
Che nul dishumanarti,  
Non divenghi una fiera, anzi chun Dio.  
Observe, Sir, in what terms we ought to Speak of the Pride of Humane Nature; instead of being angry with the mirror that shows us our Faults, instead of bearing an ill will to the Person who is so charitable to discover them to us, ought we not rather to make use of the charitable Lights they give us to find out our Self-love and Pride, and to preserve ourselves from the continual attempts they make upon our Reason? Can a Man ever express Hatred enough to those two vices that were the lamentable occasions of the revolt of our first Parent, or too much decry those unfortunate sources from whence all our miseries proceed?  
Others are at their liberty to take the Reflections after what manner they please; as for myself, I look upon them to be a true and handsome Representation of all the infirmities of your impudent pretenders to Wisdom. I fancy that in every stroke the love of truth pulls off his Mask, and shows him as he is in his proper Colours. I consider them as the instructions of an able Master, who was perfectly versed in the Art of knowing Men, who dexterously lays open all the several parts they play upon the Theatre of the World, and who not only bids us mind the several Characters of the Persons upon the Stage, but lifts up a corner of the Curtain, and satisfies us that this Lover and that King in a Tragedy, are the very numerical Actors, that play the Mountebank and the Merry-Andrew in a Farce. I freely own to you, that I have read nothing in this Age, that gives me a greater contempt for Man, or makes me more sensible of my own Vanity. I fancy that as often as I open the Book, I find something that resembles the secret Movements of my Heart, I inquire into myself to examine whether he speaks the Truth, and I find that generally he tells both me and others more than they saw. At first I am somewhat displeased with him, I sometimes blush to see how exactly he has Divined, but after I have with some violence to my Nature read Him, I perceive that if I don't from thence learn to become more wise, I learn this at least that I have no pretence to aspire to that Title; and lastly, I learn from the true Representation he gives me of myself, not sottishly to fall into an admiration of those Virtues, the very splendour of which offends our Eyesight. Hypocrites indeed pass their time but very ill in reading a Book of this Character, and those are the only Persons in the World that will raise a Noise and Clamour about it. Let me therefore conjure you, Dear Sir, to give no heed to those that vent their Malice against it, and rest assured that the true Reason of their Indignation is to see those Mysteries revealed, which if it lay in their 〈◊〉 they would carefully conceal 〈◊〉 from others and themselves.  
And now Sir, whereas it was my intention to send you a Letter, I find myself insensibly Engaged to Write a tedious Discourse, call it as you please, either a Discourse or a-Letter, it signifies not much provided, 'tis so happy as to give you some satisfaction, and that you will do me the Honour to believe that I am with all imaginable respect,  
Sir, Your Most Humble, etc.    

ARcana Aulica: or, Walsingham's Manual of Prudential Maxims, for the Statesman and Courtier. To which is added Fragmenta Regalia: or, Observations on Queen Elizabeth, Her Times, and Favourites. By Sir Robert Naunton. London, Printed for Matthew Gillyflower at the Spread Eagle in Westminster-Hall, 1694.  
HVmane Prudence: or, the Art by which a Man may Raise himself and Fortune to Grandeur. The Sixth Edition Corrected and Enlarged by the Author. Printed for Richard Sare at Grays-Inn-Gate in Holbourn.   

Moral Reflections.  
Our Virtues are oftentimes in Reality no better than Vices disguised.  

I.  
WHAT we take for Virtue is frequently nothing else but the concurrence of several Actions, and several Aims; which either our own Industry, or Fortune for us contrives to bring together. And we are much mistaken, if we think that Men are always stout from a principle of Valour, or Women chaste from a principle of Modesty.   

II.  
Self-love is the Love of a man's own self, and of every thing else for his own sake. It makes people Idolaters to themselves, and Tyrants to all the World besides, as they would plainly make appear if Fortune did but furnish them with Power and Opportunities of showing it. It never rests or fixes any where from Home, and if for a little while it dwell upon some other thing, 'tis only as Bees do, when they light upon Flowers, with a design to draw all the Virtue there to their own advantage. Nothing is so raging and violent as its Desires, nothing so close as its Designs, nothing so ingenious as its Management of them; it hath more Fetches and Doubles than can ever be described; it transforms itself into more different shapes, than are in all Ovid's Metamorphoses, and its Extractions are more subtle and refined, than any Chemistry can Parallel. It is an Abyss, too deep ever to be sounded, and too dark ever to be seen through: There it sits undiscovered even from the nicest and most penetrating Eye, and runs a thousand wild Mazes undiscerned. Nay, it is sometimes concealed from its own self, and conceives and cherishes, and brings up a world of Inclinations and Affections, without so much as being sensible when they are Born, or how they are Bred. And some of these Conceptions are so monstrous, that when they come to the Birth, it either does not know them, or cannot be prevailed upon to own them. From this gross Darkness proceed all its extravagant and ridiculous Opinions of its self, all its Errors, and Ignorances', and sottish Stupidities in its own case. This is the reason, why it often thinks those Passions killed, and dead, which are only laid to Sleep; Happiness itself is content to sit down quietly when it is only taking Breath for a fresh Chase, and thinks those Appetites quite lost, which are only satisfied a little for the present. And yet this thick Mist which hinders it from seeing itself, is no Obstruction to its sight of any thing else; for in this it is like the Eyes of our Body, which perceive all other Objects, and are blind only with regard to themselves. And thus, where i● own Interest is concerned, and the matter is of Consequence so great, as to move the desires vigorously, and by ●hem to call ●o all its Attention, it Sees, and Feels, and Hears, and Imagines, and Suspects, and Penetrates, and Presages perfectly well, so that nothing escapes it; and a Man would be apt to suspect, that each of these Passions under its Conduct, have some strange Magical Power peculiar to it. No Cement is so strong, none so close as its Engagements, which it attempts to break or dissolve, but to little or no purpose, even when driven to it by the greatest and most impending Mischiefs. And yet it happens sometimes, that what the continued Endeavours of many years were not able to accomplish, a very little time and pains effects, which gives us just Ground to conclude, that its desires are all kindled by its own hand, and owing more to itself, than to the Beauty, or the worth of its Object; and that its own Palate gives them all their Value, and Fancy, is the false Gloss that sets them off. That itself is the only Game it pursues, and its own Inclination the thing it follows, rather than the Objects that suit its Inclination; it is all extremes, and acts in the greatest contradictions to itself. It is Imperious and Submissive, Sincere and Hypocritical, Frank and Formal, Compassionate and Cruel, Cowardly and Courageous. It puts on different Inclinations according to the different Tempers, that dispose and devote it, sometimes to Honour, sometimes to Riches, sometimes to Pleasure. It shifts these, as our Age, or our Fortunes, or our Experience change; but as to itself, it is the same thing, whether it have one or more such Inclinations, for it divides itself to several, or collects and determines itself entirely to one at pleasure, and as occasisions offer themselves. It is fickle, not only because the things without us are unstable, but from a thousand inward Causes, entirely owing to itself. Inconstancy, Levity, Love of Novelty. Nauseatings, and Disgusts, and being tired with what it hath already, make it changeable every Moment. It is Whimsical and Humoursome, and you may sometimes observe it taking infinite pains, and using the utmost Application and Zeal, for things that cannot be any advantage, nay which are sure to prove Prejudicial, and yet pursue them it will, merely because it will have them. It is unaccountable and childish, and often busies itself about Trifles and Impertinencies; finds the greatest Relish and Delight, in the flattest and most insipid things, and reserves all its eagerness and warmth for the meanest, and most contemptible. It enters into all Qualities and all conditions of Life, it lives in every place, it lives upon every thing, nay it lives upon nothing; it serves itself both of the Enjoyment of things, and of the want of them. It takes part with the very Men that make War upon it, and Engages in their Designs against itself; and which is most surprising, it joins with them in the Hating of itself, Plots to its own Disadvantage, and Conspires and Endeavours its own Destruction. In a word, all its care is to subsist, and rather than not be at all, it is content to be its own Enemy▪ We ought not therefore to think it strange, if we meet it sometimes in Conjunction with the most rigorous Mortification, and find it entering boldly into League with this Adversary, to work its own Ruin; for at the same time, that it pulls itself down in one place, it builds itself up in another. When we think it renounces, and forsakes its pleasure, it only suspends or changes it; and when we fancy it Conquered, and totally Routed, we find it rise Victorious, and its very Defeat contributes to its Triumph. This is the true Picture of Self-love, which is so predominant, that a man's whole life is but one continued Exercise and strong Agitation of it; the Sea indeed is a very sensible resemblance of this Passion, and the perpetual Ebb and Flow of the Waves there, are a lively and faithful Emblem of that restless Succession of Thoughts, and those Boisterous rollings of the Mind, which are eternally caused and kept up by it.   

III.  
Self-love is the greatest Flatterer in the World.   

IV.  
When a Man hath traveled never so far, and discovered never so much in the World of Self-love, yet still the Terra Incognita will take up a considerable part of the Map.   

V.  
Self-love is more ingenious, than the most ingenious Man in the World.   

VI  
The continuance of our Passions is no more in our own Power, than the term of our Life.   

VII.  
Passion very often makes the wisest Men Fools, and very often too, inspires the greatest Fools with Wit.   

VIII.  
Those great and glorious Actions, that even dazzle our Eyes with their Lustre, are represented by Politicians as the result of great Wisdom and excellent design; whereas in truth, they are commonly the effects of Passion and Humour. Thus the War between Augustus and Antony, which is usually thought to proceed from Greatness of Soul, and the Ambition each of them had to become Master of the World, was very probably no more than Envy and Emulation.   

IX.  
The Passions are the only Orators that are always successful in persuading; they are a kind of Art in Nature that proceeds upon infallible Rules, and the plainest Man with the help of Passion, shall prevail more than the most Eloquent Man without it.   

X.  
There is in the Passions such a constant tendency to private Interest and Injustice, that it is dangerous to be guided by them; and indeed, we should not dare to trust them, even then when they appear most fair and reasonable.   

XI.  
The heart of Man ever finds a constant succession of Passions, insomuch, that the destroying and pulling down of one, proves generally to be nothing else, but the Production and the setting up of another.   

XII.  
The Passions (so odd a way of Breeding they have) do very often give birth to others of a nature most contrary and distant from their own. Thus Avarice sometimes brings forth Prodigality, and Prodigality Avarice: A Man's resolution is very often the effect of Levity, and his daring Boldness that of Cowardice and Fear.   

XIII.  
After all the care Men can take to conceal their Passions, and put them off under the dress of Piety and Honour, the disguise is too thin, and will be sure to discover all at one time or other.   

XIV.  
The love of ourselves can better bear to have our Opinions condemned, than our Inclinations.   

XV.  
Men are not only apt to forget the kindnesses and injuries that have been done them, but which is a great deal more, they hate the Persons that have obliged them, and lay aside their resentments against those that have used them ill. The trouble of returning Favours, and revenging of Wrongs, is a slavery, it seems, which they can very hardly submit to.   

XVI.  
The Clemency of Princes is very often only a State-trick to gain upon the affections of their Subjects.   

XVII.  
That Clemency which the World cries up for such a mighty Virtue, proceeds sometimes from Ostentation, sometimes from Laziness and Neglect, very often from Fear, and almost always from a mixture of all these together.   

XVIII.  
The moderation of People in prosperity, is the effect of a smooth and composed Temper owing to the Calm of their good Fortune.   

XIX.  
Moderation is a fear of falling into that Envy and Contempt, which those who grow giddy with their good Fortune, most justly draw upon themselves; it is a kind of boasting the greatness of our mind, and in short, the moderation of Men in the most exalted Fortunes, is a desire to be thought above those things that have raised them so high.   

XX.  
No body is so weak, but he is strong enough to bear the misfortunes that he does not feel.   

XXI.  
The constancy of the Wise is nothing else, but the knack of concealing their Passion and Trouble.   

XXII.  
We often see Malefactors when they are led to Execution, put on Resolution and a Contempt of Death, which in truth is nothing else, but fearing to look it in the Face: So that this pretended Bravery may very truly be said to do the same good office to their mind, that the Handkerchief or Nightcap does to their Eyes.   

XXIII.  
Philosophy finds it an easy matter to vanquish past and future Evils, but the present are commonly too hard for it.   

XXIV.  
Very few People are acquainted with Death. They undergo it commonly, not so much out of Resolution, as Custom and Insensibility; and the greatest part of the World pretend they are content to die, only because they know they cannot help it.   

XXV.  
When great Men sink under the length of their misfortunes, this discovers that it was not the greatness of their Soul, but of their Ambition, that kept up their Spirits so long, and that, setting aside abundance of Vanity, Heroes are just like common Men.   

XXVI.  
It requires more Virtue to bear a good fortune than ill.   

XXVII.  
Death and the Sun are two things not to be looked upon with a steady Eye.   

XXVIII.  
Men are often so foolish as to boast, and value themselves upon their Passions, even those that are most vicious. But envy is a Passion so full of Cowardice and Shame, that no body ever had the confidence to own it.   

XXIX.  
There is something to be said for Jealousy, because this only designs the preservation of some good, which we either have, or think we have a right to; but Envy is a raging Madness that cannot be satisfied with the good of others.   

XXX.  
Our good Qualities expose us more to Hatred and Persecution, than all the Ill we do.   

XXXI.  
We do not want strength so much as will to use it; and very often the fancying things impossible to be done, is nothing else, but an excuse of our own contriving, to reconcile ourselves to our own Idleness.   

XXXII.  
If we had no defects of our own, we should not take half so much satisfaction in observing those of other people.   

XXXIII.  
Jealousy is bred in doubts, when those doubts change into certainties, than the Passion either ceases, or turns absolute Madness.   

XXXIV.  
A Proud man can never be a loser, no not even then when he renounces his Pride.   

XXXV.  
The being proud ourselves, makes us complain of others, and uneasy at their being so.   

XXXVI.  
All men are proud alike, the only difference is, that all do not take the same methods of showing it.   

XXXVII.  
It looks like an indulgence of Nature to give us pride, that after she had taken such wise care to fit the Organs of the body for our happiness and convenience, we might be delivered from the trouble of knowing our own imperfections.   

XXXVIII.  
Pride hath a greater share than Goodness in the reproofs we give other people for their faults; and we chide them, not so much with a design to mend them, as to make them believe that we ourselves are not guilty of them.   

XXXIX.  
We promise in proportion to our Hopes, and we keep in proportion to our Fears.   

XL.  
Interest speaks all manner of Languages, and acts all sorts of Parts; nay, even that of a man that hath no regard at all to Interest.   

XLI.  
Interest makes some people Blind, and others quicksighted.   

XLII.  
They that use to employ their minds too much upon Trifles, commonly make themselves incapable of any thing that is serious or great.   

XLIII.  
We have not strength enough to follow our Reason so far as it would carry us.   

XLIV.  
A man often thinks he governs himself, when all the while he is governed and managed; and while his understanding directs to one design, his affections insensibly draw him into another.   

XLV.  
The strength and weakness of a Man's mind are mistaken and improper terms, for these are really no other than the Organs of our Bodies being well or ill disposed.   

XLVI.  
The whimsicalness of our own humour, is a thousand times more fickle and unaccountable, than what we blame so much in fortune.   

XLVII.  
The fondness or indifference that the Philosophers expressed for life, was purely a tang of the love of themselves, which will no more bear reasoning upon, than the relish of the Palate, or the choice of Colours.   

XLVIII.  
All the gifts of fortune are just as our own humour is pleased to rate them.   

XLIX.  
Happiness does not consist in the things themselves, but in the relish we have of them; and a man hath attained to it when he enjoys what he loves and desires himself, and not what other people think lovely and desirable.   

L.  
Every man's good and ill fortune is constantly more or less, than he esteems it.   

LI.  
People that are conceited of their own Merit, take a pride in being unfortunate, that so themselves and others may think them considerable enough to be the envy and the mark of Fortune.   

LII.  
Nothing ought in reason to mortify our Self-satisfaction, more than the considering that we condemn at one time, what we highly approve and commend at another.   

LIII.  
How different soever men's fortunes may be, there is always something or other that balances the ill and the good, and makes all even at last.   

LIV.  
Though Nature be never so Liberal, yet can She not make a Hero alone. Fortune must contribute Her part too; and till both Concur, the Work cannot be perfected.   

LV.  
When the Philosophers despised Riches, it was because they had a mind to vindicate their own Merit, and take a Revenge upon the injustice of Fortune, by vilifying those Enjoyments which She had not given them: This was a secret to ward off the Contempt that Poverty brings, a kind of winding By-path to get into the Esteem of the World, and when Riches had not made them considerable, to make themselves so some other way.   

LVI.  
We hate Favourites, because we are fond of Favour ourselves: The indignation we profess against others who are in Possession, soothes and softens a little the concern for our own being excluded. And we deny to pay them our respects, because we would fain, but cannot, take away that which makes them respected by all the World besides.   

LVII.  
The common way to do one's Business, and rise in the World, is to use all possible means of persuading People that ones Business is done already.   

LVIII.  
Though Men are apt to flatter and exalt themselves with their Great Achievements, yet these are in Truth very often owing, not so much to Design, as Chance.   

LIX.  
Our Actions seem to have their lucky and unlucky Stars, to which a great part of that Blame, and that Commendation is due, which is given to the Actions themselves.   

LX.  
There is no accident so tightly unfortunate, but wise Men will make some advantage of it; nor any so entirely fortunate, but Fools may turn it to their own prejudice.   

LXI.  
Fortune converts every thing to the advantage of her Favourites.   

LXII.  
men's Happiness and Misery depends altogether as much upon their own Humour, as it does upon Fortune.   

LXIII.  
Sincerity is a certain openness of Heart. It is to be found but in very few, and what we commonly look upon to be so, is only a more cunning sort of Dissimulation, to insinuate ourselves into the Confidence of others.   

LXIV.  
Our aversion to a Lie is commonly a secret Ambition to make what we say considerable, and have every word received with a Religious respect.   

LXV.  
Truth has scarce done so much good in the World, as the false appearances of it have done hurt.   

LXVI.  
No Praises are thought too great for Wisdom. And yet the highest pitch of it cannot ensure a Man the most inconsiderable event; the reason of which is, that Man is the Subject of its Operation, and he is the most fickle and changeable Creature in the World.   

LXVII.  
A wise Man should order his Designs, and set all his Interests in their proper places. This Order is often disturbed by a foolish greediness, which, while it puts us upon pursuing several things at once, makes us eager for matters of less consideration; and while we grasp at trifles, we let go things of greater Value.   

LXVIII.  
Gracefulness is to the Body, what good Sense is to the Mind.   

LXIX.  
It is very hard to give a just Definition of Love. The most we are able to say of it is this; That in the Soul, it is a desire to Govern; in Spirits it is a Sympathy; and in the Body, it is only a secret Desire, and a Curiosity to enjoy the thing Beloved, after a great deal of Bustle and Formality.   

LXX.  
Love pure, and untained with any other Passion (if such a thing there be) lies hidden in the bottom of our Heart, so exceeding close that we scarce know it ourselves.   

LXXI.  
It is not in the Power of any the most crafty Dissimulation, to conceal Love long where it really is, nor to Counterfeit it long where it is not.   

LXXII.  
Considering how little the beginning, or the ceasing to Love is in our own power, it is foolish and unreasonable for the Lover, or his Mistress, to complain of one another's Inconstancy.   

LXXIII.  
If one were to Judge of Love, according to the greatest part of the effects it produces, it might very justly pass for Hatred, rather than Kindness.   

LXXIV.  
Some Ladies may be met with, who never had any Intrigue at all; But, it will be exceeding hard to find any, who have had one, and no more.   

LXXV.  
Love is one and the same in the Original; but there are a Thousand Copies 〈◊〉 it, and it may be all differing from one ●●other.   

LXXVI.  
Love can no more continue without a constant Motion, than Fire can; and ●hen once you take Hope and Fear a●ay, you take from it its very Life and ●eing.   

LXXVII.  
It is with True Love, as with Ghosts ●nd Apparitions, a thing that every body ●alks of, and scarce any body hath seen.   

LXXVIII.  
Love hath its Name borrowed by a World of dealings and affairs that are fathered upon it; when, alas! Love hath ●o more concern in them, than the Doge ●ath in what is done at Venice.   

LXXIX.  
What the Generality of People call ●he Love of Justice, is only the Fear of ●uffering by Injustice.   

LXXX.  
Silence is the best Security to that M●● who distrusts himself.   

LXXXI.  
The thing that makes our Friendships so short and changeable, is, that the Qualities and Dispositions of the Soul are very hard to be known, and those of the Understanding and Wit very easy.   

LXXXII.  
The most Disinterested Love is, after all, but a kind of Bargain, in which the Dear Love of our own selves always proposes to be the Gainer some way or other.   

LXXXIII.  
The Reconciliation of Enemies is commonly men's desires to better their own Condition; a being Harassed, and Tired out with a State of War, and a Fear of some ill Accident, which they are willing to prevent.   

LXXXIV.  
When we have Loved ourselves weary, the kindest and most welcome ●hing that can be, is some Act of Infidelity, which may fairly disengage our Affection.   

LXXXV.  
It is much less for a Man's Honour to ●istrust his Friends, than to be deceived by ●hem.   

LXXXVI.  
We oftentimes fancy, that we Love Persons above us, when it is nothing but ●nterest that makes us fond of them. And all our Applications and Attendances are not so much upon the account of any good we desire to do them, as for what we expect and hope they may do us.   

LXXXVII.  
Our own Jealousy gives a fair pretence for the Knavery of other People.   

LXXXVIII.  
With what Face can we expect, another should keep our Secrets, when we cannot keep them ourselves?   

LXXXIX.  
The Love of ourselves makes our Friends appear more or less Deserving in Proportion to the Delight we take 〈◊〉 them; and the Measures by which 〈◊〉 judge of their Worth, depend upon the Manner of their Conversing with us.   

XC.  
Every body complains for want of Memory; but you never find any body complain of the Weakness of his Judgement.   

XCI.  
When Idle men have indulged themselves, as much as they think fit, no body is then so full of haste, and activity as they, because they hope this quickening of others will give them the Reputation of Diligence.   

XCII.  
The greatest Ambition does not appear lest so, when it finds what it would fain aspire to, absolutely impossible to be attained.   

XCIII.  
The disabusing a man strongly possessed with an opinion of his own worth, is the very, same ill office, that was done the Fool at Athens, who fancied, all the Ships that came into Harbour, were his own.   

XCIV.  
Old Folks love mightily to give good Advice, because this makes them some sort of Amends, for being incapable now of setting Ill Examples.   

XCV.  
Great Characters do really lessen, instead of exalting, those that know not how to maintain, and make them good.   

XCVI.  
That man, we may be sure, is a Person of true worth, whom, we find those who envy him most, are yet forced to commend.   

XCVII.  
It is an Argument, our own Affection is but small, when our Friends grow cold to us, and we are not sensible of it.   

XCVIII.  
The making a Difference between the Wit and the Judgement, is a Vulgar Error. The Judgement is nothing else, but the Exceeding Brightness of the Wit; which, like Light, pierces into the very Bottom of Things; observes all that aught to be observed there, and Discovers what seemed to be past any bodies finding out. From whence we must conclude, that the Energy and Extension of this Light of the Wit, is the very thing, that produces all those effects, usually ascribed to the Judgement.   

XCIX.  
Every body takes upon him to give a good Character of his own Courage, but no body to speak well of his own Wit.   

C.  
The Polite Wit consists in Nice, Curious, and Commendable Thoughts.   

CI.  
The Gallantry of the Wit is Expressed in Flattery Well-couched.   

CII.  
It often happens, that some things offer themselves to our Wit, and are finer in the very first thought, than it is possible for a man to make them by the Additions of Art and Study.   

CIII.  
The Wit is constantly the Cully of the Courage.   

CIV.  
Many People are Acquainted with their own Wit, that are not Acquainted with their own Heart.   

CV.  
Men and Actions are like Objects of Sight, and have their nice points of being distinctly discerned. Some you must come very near to, to judge of them exactly, and others are better seen at a greater distance.   

CVI  
He is not to pass for a Man of Reason, who stumbles upon Reason by chance, but he that knows and can Judge, and hath a true relish of it.   

CVII.  
It is necessary in order to know things throughly well, to know the particulars of them; and these being infinite, make our Knowledge ever superficial and imperfect.   

CVIII.  
It is one kind Coquet humour, to put people always upon observing, that we are not Coquet.   

CIX.  
It is not in the power of the Wit to dissemble the Inclinations very long.   

CX.  
Heat of Blood makes young People change their Inclinations often, and Custom makes old ones keep to theirs a great while.   

CXI.  
There is nothing that Men are so free of, as their Advice.   

CXII.  
The more Passionately a Man loves his Mistress, the readier he is to hate Her.   

CXIII.  
The Defects of the Understanding are like those of the Face; the older People are, the worse they grow.   

CXIV.  
Matrimony is sometimes convenient, but never Delightful.   

CXV.  
Men are never to be comforted for the Treachery of their Friends, or the over reaching of their Enemies; and yet they are often very highly satisfied, to be both cheated and betrayed by their own selves.   

CXVI.  
It is as easy a matter to deceive a Man's self, and not be sensible of it, as it is hard to impose upon others, and yet for them not to be sensible of it.   

CXVII.  
Nothing betrays more want of Sincerity, than the methods commonly used in ask and receiving Advice. He that asks it, pretends to a respectful Deference for the Opinion of his Friend, and all the while only designs to have his own approved, and shelter his own Actions under the Authority of another; and he that gives it, returns these Professions with a pretended Kindness and impartial Zeal, and yet hath generally no other end in the advising him, but his own Interest and Honour.   

CXVIII.  
The cunningest Dissimulation is when a Man pretends to be Caught, and a Man is never so easily overreached, as when he is thinking to overreach others.   

CXIX.  
An honest Intention of imposing upon no Body, lays us open to be frequently imposed upon ourselves.   

CXX.  
We are so used to dissemble with other People, that in time we come to Deceive and Dissemble with ourselves.   

CXXI.  
Treachery is oftener the Effect of Weakness, than of a fixed Design.   

CXXII.  
Men frequently do good, only to give themselves opportunity of doing ill with greater Security.   

CXXIII.  
The resistance we make to our Passions is owing to their Weakness more than our Strength.   

CXXIV.  
Men never would enjoy any Pleasure, if they never flattered themselves.   

CXXV.  
The most ingenious Men pretend to condemn tricking continually; but this is often done, that they may use it more conveniently themselves, when some great Occasion or Interest offers itself to them.   

CXXVI.  
To use crafty Dealing, is a sign of a little Soul; and it generally falls out, that he who conceals himself by it in one Instance, betrays himself as much by it in another.   

CXXVII.  
Tricks and Treachery are the practice of Fools that have not Wit enough to be Honest.   

CXXVIII.  
The most effectual way to be Bubbled, is to fancy one's self wiser than ones Neighbours.   

CXXIX.  
Too great a degree of Subtlety is counterfeit Exactness, and true Exactness is the best and most substantial Subtlety.   

CXXX.  
The being a Blockhead is sometimes the best security against being imposed upon by a Man of Wit.   

CXXXI.  
A weak mind is the only defect out of our power to mend.   

CXXXII.  
When once Women have given themselves over to make Love, the doing it on is the least fault they can be guilty of.   

CXXXIII.  
It is much easier to be wise in another Man's concern, than in ones own.   

CXXXIV.  
There are no good Copies, except such as expose the folly of Bad Originals.   

CXXXV.  
Men become Ridiculous, not so much for the Qualities they have, as those they would be thought to have, when they really have them not.   

CXXXVI.  
A man at sometimes differs as much from himself, as he does from other people.   

CXXXVII.  
Abundance of Men would never have been in Love, if they had never been entertained with any Discourse of Love.   

CXXXVIII.  
They that speak without Ostentation, content themselves with saying but little.   

CXXXIX.  
Rather than say nothing, Men are content to speak ill of themselves.   

CXL.  
One reason, why we find so very few Men of Sense and agreeable Conversation, is, That almost every body's mind is more intent upon what he himself hath a mind to say, than upon making pertinent Replies to what the rest of the Company say to him. The more Ingenious and Complaisant sort go no farther than pretending to hearken attentively; when at the same time, a Man may plainly see, that both their Eyes and their Mind are roving from what is said to them, and posting back again to what they long to be at themselves. Whereas it ought to be considered, that to seek ones own Pleasure so very Passionately, can never be the way either to please or persuade others; and that diligent Attention, and proper Repartees, are the very things that accomplish a man for Company.   

CXLI.  
A man of Wit would find himself sometimes miserably at a ioss, if there were no Fools to divert him with their Company.   

CXLII.  
We often brag of never being troublesome to ourselves, and are so vain as never to think ourselves bad Company.   

CXLIII.  
As great Wits have a peculiar Faculty of saying a great deal in a little; so half witted Fellows have a Talon of talking much, and yet saying nothing.   

CXLIV.  
The excellencies of other people are extolled and valued, more according to our own Opinions, than a just esteem of their worth; and when we pretend to commend other men's Virtues, 'tis by a side-wind to put other men upon commending ours.   

CXLV.  
No body loves to be upon the commending strain, and indeed we seldom touch upon it without some little By-end. Praise is a more ingenious, concealed, and nicer kind of Flattery, that consults the satisfaction both of the Giver and Receiver, though by very different ways the one accepts it, as a reward due to his desert; the other gives it, that he may be looked upon as a Just and a Discreet Person.   

CXLVI.  
We often choose to make use of Commendations, that carry a sting in the Tail; and by taking men at the rebound (as it were) lay open some Defects in the Persons so commended, which we dare not venture to expose any other way.   

CXLVII.  
The design of commending others, is usually to be commended ones self.   

CXLVIII.  
Few People have the Wisdom to like Reproofs that would do them good, better than Praises that do them hurt.   

CXLIX.  
Some Censures are a Commendation, and some Commendations are no better than Scandal.   

CL.  
He that refuses Praises the first time it is offered, does it, because he would hear it a second.   

CLI.  
The desire of being worthy the Commendations of the World, is a great assistance and strengthening to our Virtues; and to extol men's Wit, or Courage, or Beauty, is to contribute to the increase of them.   

CLII  
It is an easier matter to manage others, than to keep from being managed ones self.   

CLIII.  
If we did not Flatter ourselves, all the Flatteries of other People could never hurt us.   

CLIU  
We are beholding to Nature for Worth and Parts, but it is to Fortune that we owe the opportunities of exerting them.   

CLV.  
Fortune mends more Faults in us, than ever Reason would be able to do.   

CLVI.  
Some men displease with Merit, and other People's very Faults and Defects are taking.   

CLVII.  
All that some People are good for, is the saying and doing foolish things seasonably and usefully; and when they are once taken out of this Road, you quite spoil them, and they are worth nothing.   

CLVIII.  
Great men's Honour ought always to be measured by the Methods they made use of for the attaining it.   

CLIX  
King's put a value upon Men, as well as Money, and we are forced to take them both, not by weight, but according as they are pleased to Stamp them, and at the current rate of the Coin.   

CLX.  
It is not enough for Men to have great Accomplishments, except they have the Art of using them too.   

CLXI.  
Though an Action be never so Glorious in itself, it ought not to pass for Great, if it be not the Effect of Wisdom and good Design.   

CLXII.  
Whoever expects to have what he does turn to good account, must take care to proportion his Actions, and the ends he proposes from them.   

CLXIII.  
If a Man hath the Address of using moderate Abilities to the best Advantage, this Dexterity shall gain upon the World, and bring him oftentimes into greater Reputation, than real Merit.   

CLXIV.  
There are a World of Proceedings, that appear odd and ridiculous, which yet are grounded upon secret Reasons, that are very Solid and Substantial.   

CLXV.  
It is easier for a Man to be thought fit for an Employment that he hath not, than for one that he stands already possessed of, and is his proper Post.   

CLXVI.  
The esteem of Good Men is the reward of our Worth, but the Reputation of the World in general, is the gift of our Fate.   

CLXVII.  
The appearances of Goodness and Desert often meet with a greater reward from the World, than real Goodness and Desert itself.   

CLXVIII.  
Covetousness is more opposite to Prudence and good Management, than Liberality is.   

CLXIX.  
Though Hope be exceeding deceitful, yet it is of this good use to us, that while we are Travelling through this Life, it conducts us an easier and more pleasant way to our Journey's End.   

CLXX.  
Many People are kept within their Duty, because they have not the Courage, or will not be at the pains of being wicked; and in such cases oftentimes our Virtue runs away with all the Praise.   

CLXXI  
It is hard to Determine, whether a clear, open and honourable proceeding, be the result of good Principles, or a good Understanding.   

CLXXII.  
Virtue's are lost in Interest, as Rivers are swallowed up in the Sea.   

CLXXIII.  
We are so strongly possessed with a good Opinion of ourselves, that we take those things for Virtues, which are no other than Vices that look like them, and such as the Love of ourselves imposes upon us with.   

CLXXIV.  
There are several sorts of Curiosity, one that proceeds from Interest, which puts us upon learning things that can be any way Useful and Beneficial to 〈◊〉 and another, from Pride, that comes from an Itch of knowing more than other People.   

CLXXV.  
A man's Wits are Employed to better purpose in bearing up under the misfortunes that lie upon him at present, than in foreseeing those that may come upon him hereafter.   

CLXXVI.  
Constancy in Love is a perpetual inconstancy, which fixes our hearts fast to all the accomplishments of the party beloved successively; sometimes admiring one, and sometimes another above all the rest, so that this Constancy roves as far as it can, and is no better than Inconstancy, confined within the compass of one Person.   

CLXXVII.  
Constancy in Love is of two sorts, one is the effect of new Excellencies that are always presenting themselves afresh, and attract our affections continually; the other is only from a point of Honour, and a taking a Pride not to change.   

CLXXVIII.  
Perseverance is in Strictness, neither Praise-nor blame-worthy; for it seems to be only the lasting of certain Inclinations and Opinions, which men neither give nor take away from themselves.   

CLXXIX.  
The love of new Notions and greater Knowledge is not so much from being weary of what we had before, or any satisfaction there is in change, as it is the concern for being too little admired by those that know us well, and the hope of being admired more by them that know us but little.   

CLXXX.  
We complain sometimes that our Friends are Fickle, only to be beforehand with them, and justify our own Inconstancy.   

CLXXXI.  
Our Repentances are generally not so much a Concern and Remorse for the Ills we have done, as a Dread of those we were in danger of suffering.   

CLXXXII.  
There is an Inconstancy that proceeds from an unsettled Judgement, a natural Levity and Weakness that espouses all Opinions as they come, and thinks as other people think; and there is another much more excusable, that arises from a dislike and disapproving of the things themselves.   

CLXXXIII.  
Vices are mingled with Virtues, just as poisonous Ingredients are put into Medicines. A wise and skilful Hand tempers them together, and makes excellent use of them against the misfortunes that attend Humane Life.   

CLXXXIV.  
Some Crimes get Honour and Renown by being committed with more Pomp, by a greater Number, and in a higher Degree of Wickedness than others. And hence it is, that public Robberies, Plunderings and Sacking have been looked upon as Excellencies and noble Achievements, and the seizing whole Countries, though never so Unjustly and Barbarously, is dignified with the Glorious Name of gaining Conquests.   

CLXXXV.  
We confess our Faults, by that Sincerity to make amends for the Injury they have done us in the Esteem of others.   

CLXXXVI.  
Some Heroes have been accounted so for being greatly Ill, no less than others for being greatly Good.   

CLXXXVII.  
We may Hate and Despise men's Vices, without any Contempt or Malice against their Persons; but it is impossible not to Despise those that have no kind of Virtue to recommend them.   

CLXXXVIII.  
The name and pretence of Virtue is as serviceable to one's Interest, as real Vices.   

CLXXXIX.  
The Health of the Soul is what we can be no more secure of, than that of our Body. And though a man may seem far from Vice and Passion, yet is he in as much Danger of Falling into them, as one in a perfect state of Health is of having a sit of Sickness.   

CXC.  
Nature seems at each Man's Birth to have marked out the bounds of every one's Virtues and Vices, and to have determined how Good or how Wicked that Man shall be capable of being.   

CXCI  
None but Great Men are capable of being greatly ill.   

CXCII.  
Vice's may be said to take us from one to another in the Course of our lives, just as Innkeepers where we Lodge upon a Journey do; and I Question, whether if we could Travel the same Road twice over, the Experience of having been once ill used, would prevail with us to change our House next time.   

CXCIII.  
When our Vices forsake us, we please ourselves with an Opinion, that we parted first, and left them.   

CXCIV.  
The Distempers of the Soul have their Relapses, as many and as dangerous as those of the Body. And the Remedies we take, are oftentimes no perfect cure, but either an abatement of the same Disease, or the changing of that for another.   

CXCU.  
The Defects and Faults of the Mind are like Wounds in the Body; after all imaginable ear hath been taken to heal them up, still there will be a Scar left behind, and they are in continual Danger of breaking the Skin, and bursting out again.   

CXCVI  
The only Reason why we do not give ourselves entirely to one Vice, is oftentimes, because our Affections are divided, and we are fond of several.   

CXCVII.  
We easily forget our Faults, when no body knows them but ourselves.   

CXCVIII  
Some Men are so good, that one cannot fairly believe any thing ill of them without the Demonstration of seeing it ourselves, but never any were so good, that we should be astonished when we do see it.   

CXCIX.  
We pull down one Man's Reputation to set up another's; and sometimes Men would not be so copious in the praise of the Prince, and Monsieur Turenne, if it were not out of a design to lessen them both.   

CC.  
The desire to be thought a wise Man, oftentimes hinders ones coming to be really such.   

CCI  
Virtue would not make such Advances, if there were not a little Vanity to bear it Company.   

CCII  
He that fancies such a sufficiency in himself, that he can live without all the World, is mightily mistaken; but he that imagines himself so necessary, that other people cannot live without him, is a great deal more mistaken.   

CCIII.  
Those Men have but a counterfeit Virtue, who dissemble their Faults and hide them from others and themselves. The men of true unaffected Goodness know their own failings perfectly, and confess them freely.   

CCIU  
He that would be a truly honest Man must be immoderately desirous of nothing.   

CCV.  
Niceness of Behaviour in Women, is only a Dress or Paint, which they use, the better to set off their Beauty.   

CCVI  
women's virtue is frequently nothing, but a regard to their own Quiet, and a tenderness for their Reputation.   

CCVII  
There is no better proof of a man's being truly Good, than his desiring to be constantly under the observation of good Men.   

CCVIII.  
Folly dogs us every where, and at all times. If one Man seem wiser than his Neighbours, it is only, because his Follies are better suited to his Age and his Fortune.   

CCIX  
There are a great many Cullies that know it, and make very good use of the weakness, and easiness of their own Temper.   

CCX.  
He that lives without Folly is not so wise as he imagines.   

CCXI  
Both Folly and Wisdom come upon us with Years.   

CCXII  
Some Men are like Ballads, that every body Sings at one time or other, though they be never so dull and insipid.   

CCXIII  
The generality of the World know no other way of judging People's worth, but by the Vogue they are in, or the fortunes they have met with.   

CCXIU  
The love of Reputation, the fear of Shame, the designs of promoting an Interest, the desire of making Life easy and convenient, and a longing to pull down some above us, are frequently the causes of that Valour so much cried up in the World.   

CCXV.  
Valour in private Soldiers is a Hazardous Trade, which they have bound themselves too, to get their Livelihood.   

CCXVI.  
Complete Courage, and absolute Cowardice, are extremes that very few Men fall into. The vast middle space contains all the intermediate Kind's, and degrees of Courage; and these differ as much from one another, as men's Faces, or their Humours do. Some Men venture at all upon the first Charge or two, but if the Actio continue, they cool, and are easily dejected. Some satisfy themselves with having done what in strict Honour was necessary, and will not be prevailed upon to advance one step farther 〈◊〉 is observable, that some have not the command of their Fears, and not master them at all times alike. Others are some times carried away with a general Consternation; some throw themselves into the Action, because they dare not stay at their own Post. Now and then the being used to smaller Dangers hardens the Courage, and fits it for venturing upon greater. Some Fellows value not a Sword at all, but fear a Musket-shot; and others are as unconcerned at the Discharge of a Musket, and ready to run at the sight of a Naked Sword. All these Courageous Men of so many Sorts and Sizes, agree in this▪ that Night, as it adds to their fear, so it conceals what they do well or ill, and gives them opportunity of sparing themselves. And there is, besides this, another more general tenderness of a Man's self, for you meet with no body, even those that do most, but they would be capable of doing a great deal more still, if they could but be sure of coming off safe. Which makes it very plain, that let a Man be never so Stout, yet the fear of Death does certainly give some damp to his Courage.   

CCXVII.  
True Valour would do all that, when alone, that it could do, if all the World were by.   

CCXVIII.  
Fearlessness is a more than ordinary strength of Mind, that raises it above the Troubles, Disorders, and Emotions which the prospect of great Dangers are used to produce. And by this inward strength it is, that Heroes preserve themselves in a Calm and quiet State, enjoy a presence of Mind, and the free use of their Reason in the midst of those terrible▪ Accidents, that amaze and confound other People.   

CCXIX  
Hypocrisy is a sort of Homage which Vice pays to Virtue.   

CCXX.  
Most Men are willing to expose their Persons in an Engagement, for the love of Honour; but very few are content to expose themselves so far, as the design they go upon requires, to render it Successful.   

CCXXI.  
The Courage of a great many Men, and the Virtue of a great many Women, are the effect of Vanity, Shame, and especially a suitable Constitution.   

CCXXII.  
Men are loath to lose their Lives, and yet they are desirous of getting Honour too, which is the reason why Men of Gallantry use more Dexterity and Wit to decline Death, than all your Religious Knaves do to secure their Estates.   

CCXXIII  
There are very few Persons, but discover as soon as they come to decline in Years, where the chief failings lie, both of their Body and their Mind.   

CCXXIU  
Gratitude among Friends, is like Credit among Tradesmen, it keeps Business up, and maintains the Correspondence. And we frequently pay not so much out of a Principle that we ought to discharge our Debts, as to secure ourselves a place to be trusted in another time.   

CCXXU.  
Some there are who have done all that can be expected by way of Gratitude, can be required from them by way of return, are not able for all that to please themselves upon their being grateful, and which are not satisfied with what they have 〈◊〉   

CCXXVI.  
That 〈◊〉 occasions so many mistakes in the Computations of Men, when they expect returns for favours, is, that both the Giver and the Receiver are Proud, and so these two can never agree upon the value of the kindnesses that have been done. The Giver over-reckons, and the Receiver undervalues them.   

CCXXVII.  
To be uneasy, and make too much hast to return an Obligation, is one sort of Ingratitude▪   

CCXXVIII.  
Men find it more easy to set bounds to their Acknowledgements, than to their Hopes and their Desires.   

CCXXIX.  
Pride never can endure to be in Debt, and Self-love never cares to Pay.   

CCXXX.  
The good that we have received should qualify for the ill that hath been done us.   

CCXXXI.  
Nothing is of so pestilent spreading a Nature, as Example; and no Man does any exceeding good, or very wicked thing; but it produces others of the same kind. The good we are carried to the imitation of by our Emulation, and the bad by the Corruption and Malignity of our Nature; which shame indeed confines and keeps up close, but Example unlocks its Chains, and lets it loose.   

CCXXXII.  
To think to be Wise alone, is a very great Folly.   

CCXXXIII.  
Whatever other pretended cause we may father our Afflictions upon, it is very often nothing but Interest, and Vanity, that are the true causes of them.   

CCXXXIV.  
There are Hypocrisies of several kinds in our Afflictions, in one sort, we pretend to lament the loss of some Friend exceeding dear to us, and all the while this Lamentation is only for ourselves. We are troubled to think ourselves less Happy, less Easy, less Considerable, and less Valued, than we were before. Thus the Dead carry the Name and the Honour of those Tears, that are shed only upon the account of the Living. And this I call Hypocrisy of one kind, because in these Afflictions, People impose upon themselves. There is another kind not so Harmless as this, because that imposes upon all the World. And this is the Affliction of a sort of Persons, that pretend to a 〈◊〉, and a never dying concern in their Grief. When Time, the Waster of all things, hath worn off the concern they really had, than they will needs be obstinate in their Sorrows, and still carry on their Complaints and their Sighs. They put on all the Characters of Mourning and Sadness, and take a great deal of pains by all their Actions, to make the World believe, their Melancholy can never have any Rest, any Cessation, but in the Grave. This Dismal, Tiresome, and Solemn Vanity is most usual among Ambitious Women. Their Sex hath shut them out from all the common ways that lead to Honour, and that makes them attempt to signalise themselves, by all this Pageantry of an Affliction, too deep to admit of any Comfort. There are yet another sort of Tears, that have but shallow Springs, quickly and easily flow, and are as easily dried up again; these are such as weep to gain the Reputation of Tenderness and good Nature, such as cry because they would be pitied, such as cry because they would make other People cry; and in a word, such as cry, only because they are ashamed not to cry.   

CCXXXV.  
Our concern for the loss of our Friends, is not always from a Sense of their Worth, but rather of our own occasions for them, and that we have lost some, who had a good Opinion of us.   

CCXXXVI.  
We are Easily Comforted for the Disgraces of our Friends, when they give us an occasion of Expressing our Tenderness for them.   

CCXXXVII.  
One would think, that Self-Love were Overreached by Good-Nature and Virtue; and that a Man wholly Forgets and Neglects himself, when he is employed in Promoting the Advantage of Others. But, when all is done, this is the most effectual way of compassing a Man's own ends; it is putting out to Interest, when we pretend to Give Freely▪ In a word, it is Winning over the Affections of all that know us, and gaining upon them by a more nice and dexterous way.   

CCXXXVIII.  
No Man deserves to be commended for his Virtue, who hath it not in his Power to be Wicked; all other Goodness is Generally no better than Sloth, or an Impotence in the Will.   

CCXXXIX.  
It is safer to do most Men Hurt, than to do them too much Good.   

CCXL.  
Nothing Imposes more upon our Pride, than the Intimacy and particular Confidences of Great Persons; for we look upon ourselves as admitted to these by Virtue of our own Desert; and never consider, that it happens much oftener, from a particular Vanity in their Humour, or the not being able to keep a Secret. For indeed a Man may observe, that the Unbosoming ones Self to another, is a kind of Release to the Soul, which strives to Lighten its Burden, and find Ease, by throwing off the Weight that lay heavy upon it.   

CCXLI  
If we look upon Agreeableness distinct from Beauty, we may call it a sort of Proportion, the Rules of which no body can positively define; a secret relation, and affinity of the Lines to one another, and of all these together, to the Complexion and Air of the Person.   

CCXLII  
A Cocquet Humour is the very Nature and Inheritance of Women. But all of them do not practise it, because some are restrained, either by Fear, or by better Sense.   

CCXLIII.  
We frequently bring others under an Inconveniency, when we think it impossible for us ever to do so.   

CCXLIV.  
There are but very few things Impossible in their own Nature; and we do not want Means to Conquer Difficulties, so much as Application and Resolution in the Use of Means.   

CCXLV.  
The Principal Point of Wisdom, is to Know How to Value Things Just as they Deserve.   

CCXLVI.  
It is a Great Act of Wisdom to be able to Conceal ones being Wise.   

CCXLVII  
What we take for Generosity, is very often no other than Ambition well Dissembled, that scorns Mean Interests, only to Pursue Greater.   

CCXLVIII.  
That which Most Men would put upon us for Fidelity, is only a Contrivance of Self-Love, to make ourselves Trusted. It is a Trick to set ourselves above other People, and get the Most Important Matters Deposited with us, upon a Confidence, that they are then in Safe Hands.   

CCXLIX.  
Magnanimity Despises all, that it may Grasp all.   

CCL.  
Eloquence is as much seen in the Tone, and Cadence of the Voice, as in the Choice of Proper Expressions.   

CCLI.  
True Eloquence consists in Saying all that is Fit to be Said; and Leaving Out all that is not Fit to be Said.   

CCLII.  
There are some Persons, upon whom their very Faults and Failings Sat Gracefully; and there are others, whose very Excellencies and Accomplishments do not Become them.   

CCLIII.  
It is as common for Men to Change their Palates, as it is unusual to see them Change their Inclinations.   

CCLIV.  
Interest is the Thing that puts Men upon Exercising their Virtues and Vices of All Kind's.   

CCLU.  
Humility is very often only the Putting on of a Submission, by which Men hope to bring other People to Submit to Them: It is a more Artificial sort of Pride, which Debases itself with a Design of being Exalted; and though this Vice Disguise and Transform itself into a Thousand several Shapes, yet this is never more effectually done, nor more capable of Deceiving the World, than when Concealed under a Form of Humility.   

CCLVI  
The Resentments of the Soul have each of them their Tone and Cadence, of the Voice, their Gestures of the Body, and their Forms and Air peculiar to them; And, as this Propriety is Well or Ill observed, in the same Proportion the Persons Please, or Displease us.   

CCLVII.  
Men of all Professions Affect an Air and Outside, that may make them Appear what they are thought to be. So that a Man may say, That the whole World is made up of nothing but Formalities.   

CCLVIII  
Gravity is a kind of Mystical Behaviour in the Body, found out to Conceal, and Set Off the Defects of the Mind.   

CCLIX.  
There is an Eloquence in the Eyes, and the Air of a Man, no less Powerful and Persuasive, than that in Words.   

CCLX.  
The Pleasure of Love is Loving; and a Man is more Happy in his own Passion for Another, than in that Another hath for Him.   

CCLXI.  
Civility is a desire to be Civilly Used, and to be thought an Accomplished Well-bred Man.   

CCLXII.  
The Breeding we Give Young People, is but an Additional Self-Love, by which we make them have a Better Conceit of Themselves.   

CCLXIII.  
Self-Love hath nowhere a greater share, nor is more predominant in any Passion, than in that of Love. And Men are always more disposed to Sacrifice all the Ease of them they Love, than to part with any Degree of their Own.   

CCLXIV.  
What we call Liberality, is for the most part only the Vanity of Giving; and we Exercise it, because we are more Fond of that Vanity, than of the Thing we Give.   

CCLXU.  
Pity and Compassion is frequently a Sense of our own Misfortunes, in those of Other Men. It is an Ingenious Foresight of the Disasters that may fall upon us hereafter; we Relieve Others, that they may Return the like, when our Own Occasions call for it; and the Good Offices we Do Them, are, in Strict Speaking, so many Kindnesses done to Ourselves Beforehand.   

CCLXVI  
It is from a Weakness and Littleness of Soul, that Men are Stiff and Positive in their Opinions; and we are very loath to Believe, what we are not able to Comprehend, and make out to Ourselves.   

CCLXVII.  
It is a Mighty Error, to suppose, that none but Violent and Strong Passions, such as Love, and Ambition, are able to Vanquish the rest. Even Idleness, as Feeble and Languishing as it is, sometimes reigns over Them; This Usurps the Throne, and sits Paramount over all the Designs and Actions of our Lives; and Insensibly wastes and destroys all our Passions, and all our Virtues.   

CCLXVIII.  
A readiness to believe Ill, before we have duly Examined it, is the Effect of Laziness and Pride. Men are pleased to find Others to Blame▪ and loath to give Themselves the Trouble of Enquiring, how far, and whether they are so, or not.   

CCLXIX.  
We refuse some Judges in Matters of less concern, and yet are content to have our Honour and Reputation depend upon the Judgement of People that are sure to be against us, for either their Jealousy, or their Prejudices, or their Ignorances' will incline them to be so. And we should never expose our Ease, and our Lives, so many ways as we do, if it were not to Bribe Men to give Sentence in our Favour.   

CCLXX.  
There are but few Men Wise enough to know all the Mischief Wisdom does.   

CCLXXI  
The honour we have already gotten is an Engagement upon us for that which we ought to get.   

CCLXXII.  
Youth is a continual Drunkenness, the very Fever of Reason.   

CCLXXIII.  
We love to spend our Judgements upon Other People's Destiny, but never care that they should spend Theirs upon Us.   

CCLXXIV.  
There are a great many Men Valued in the World, who have nothing to Recommend Them, but Serviceable Vices.   

CCLXXV.  
The Living Strictly by Rule, for the Preservation of Health, is one of the most Troublesome Diseases that can be.   

CCLXXVI.  
That Good Disposition which Boasts of being most tender, is often Stifled by the least Interest.   

CCLXXVII.  
Absence cools Moderate Passions, and Inflames Violent ones; Just as the Wind blows Cut Candles, but Kindles Fires.   

CCLXXVIII.  
Women often Fancy themselves in Love, when there is no such Matter. The Diversion of an Amour, the Little Commotions that an Intrigue Raises in their Breasts; the Natural Inclination to be Courted, and the Trouble of Denying, makes them Fancy that what they Feel is Passion; when, in Truth, it is nothing but a Coquet-Humour.   

CCLXXIX.  
The Dislike we commonly have for Men that make Traffic and Gain their Business, arises from their being generally apt to Sacrifice all the Interest of their Friends, for Advancing the Interest of their Trade; which they make their own, by the Credit of having Succeeded in their Undertake.   

CCLXXX.  
When we Enlarge upon the Tenderness our Friends have for us, this is very often, not so much out of a Sense of Gratitude, as from a Desire to Persuade People of our own Great Worth, that can Deserve so much Kindness.   

CCLXXXI.  
The Applause we give to Men, that are just Setting-Up for Reputation in the World, is often from a Spirit of Envy; and a Secret Way of Detracting from others, that have Established a Good Reputation to themselves already.   

CCLXXXII.  
Pride, that Inspires us with so much Envy, is sometimes of Use toward the Moderating it too.   

CCLXXXIII.  
There are some Counterfeits so very like Truths, that we should injure our judgements, not to Submit to the Cheat.   

CCLXXXIV.  
It is sometimes as Great a Point of Wisdom, to know how to make use of Good Advice from others, as to be able to Advise one's Self.   

CCLXXXV.  
There are some Wicked Men in the World, that would not be Able to do half so much hurt, if they had no Good Qualities to Recommend them.   

CCLXXXVI.  
Magnanimity is sufficiently understood, and defined, by its very Name▪ But yet one may say, That it is the Wisdom of Pride, the best and most Noble Method for the getting the Commendations of others.   

CCLXXXVII.  
No Man can truly Love a Second time the Person whom he hath once truly ceased to Love   

CCLXXXVIII.  
The Different Methods for compassing the same Design, come not so much from the Fruitfulness of our Inventions, as from the Weakness of our Understandings; which makes us pitch upon every Fresh Matter that presents itself to our Fancy, and does not furnish us with Judgement sufficient to discern, at first sight, which of them is best, and most for our purpose.   

CCLXXXIX.  
Affected Plainness is but a Nicer and more Laboured Cheat.   

CCXC.  
The Humour occasions more Defects than the Understanding.   

CCXCI  
Men's Deserts are like Fruits, for they have both of them their particular Seasons.   

CCXCII.  
One may say of men's Humours That they resemble the Generality of Buildings, they have Several Prospects, some of them Agreeable, and some much otherwise.   

CCXCIII.  
Moderation can never have the Honour of Contending with Ambition, and Subduing it; for they cannot possibly meet in the same Breast. Moderation is the Feebleness and Sloth of the Soul, whereas Ambition is the Warmth, and the Activity of it.   

CCXCIU  
We always Love those that Admire us, but we do not always Love those that we Admire.   

CCXCU.  
We are very far from always knowing our own Minds.   

CCXCVI  
It is a hard matter to Love those, for whom we have not a Real Esteem; and it is every whit as hard to Love Those, that we think a great deal better than ourselves.   

CCXCVII  
The Humours of the Body have a Constant Course, and Regular Motion, that Insensibly draws our Will after it; they take their Rounds together, and Govern us by turns: So that our Constitution hath, in Truth, a very considerable share in all we do, though we cannot always perceive it.   

CCXCVIII.  
A great many men's Gratitude is nothing else, but a secret desire to Hook in more valuable Kindnesses hereafter.   

CCXCIX.  
Almost every body takes a delight to return small Favours; a great many pay their acknowledgements for moderate ones, but there is scarce any body, but is unthankful for such as are Extraordinary.   

CCC.  
Some Follies like Diseases, are caught by Infection.   

CCCI  
Abundance of Men despise Riches, but few know how to part with them.   

CCCII.  
It is in Matters of no great Moment commonly, where we venture, not to believe Probabilities.   

CCCIII  
Whatever Men say in our own Commendation, they tell us nothing but what we knew before.   

CCCIU  
We often forgive those that have Injured us, but we can never Pardon those that we have Injured.   

CCCV.  
Interest, upon which we commonly lay the Blame of all our ill Actions, oftentimes deserves the commendation due to our Good ones.   

CCCVI.  
A Man seldom finds People unthankful, till he ceases to be in a Condition of obliging them any farther.   

CCCVII.  
It is as commendable, for a Man to think well of himself when he is alone, as it is ridiculous to publish his doing it in all Companies.   

CCCVIII.  
Moderation is represented as a Virtue, with a design to restrain the Ambition of Great M●n; and to persuade those of a meaner Condition, to be contented with a less proportion of Merit, and of Fortune.   

CCCIX.  
There are some Men cut out for Fools, that do not only make their Follies their choice; but are forced into them by Fortune, whether they will or no.   

CCCX.  
Such odd Accidents there are sometimes, attending Humane Life, that a little Folly is necessary to help us well out of them.   

CCCXI  
If there be such Men as were never thought to be guilty of any thing Ridiculous, it is only because they have not been nicely looked into.   

CCCXII.  
The reason why Ladies are easy in one another's Company, is because they never talk of any thing but themselves.   

CCCXIII  
What an odd thing it is, that our Memories should serve us to recollect all the little Circumstances that have happened to us; and yet that we should not remember, how often we have told them over and over again, to one and the same Person.   

CCCXIV.  
The exceeding delight we take in discoursing about ourselves, may well make us suspect, that we allow but very little Pleasure, to them that converse with us.   

CCCXU.  
The Reason why we do not let our Friends see the very bottom of our Hearts, is, not so much, from any distrust we have of them, as that we have of ourselves.   

CCCXVI  
Half-witted People can never be sincere.   

CCCXVII.  
The misfortune of obliging unthankful People is no very great misfortune, but to be obliged to a Knave, is one not to be endured.   

CCCXVIII.  
Some Remedies may be found to cure a Man of his Folly, but there are none that can reform a perverse Spirit.   

CCCXIX  
No body can continue long, to think so respectfully of their Friends and Benefactors as they ought, if they allow themselves the liberty to talk often of their Faults.   

CCCXX.  
To commend Princes for Virtues which they have not, is only to take a safe way of abusing them.   

CCCXXI  
We may sooner be brought to Love them that Hate us, than them that Love us more than we desire they should do.   

CCCXXII.  
No body fears being despised, but those that deserve it.   

CCCXXIII.  
Our Wisdom lies as much at the mercy of Fortune, as our Possessions do.   

CCCXXIV.  
Jealousy is not so much from the love of another, as the love of ourselves.   

CCCXXV.  
We oftentimes are comforted for misfortunes by the want of Reason and Judgement, which the strength of Reason could not comfort us under.   

CCCXXVI.  
The exposing of a Man and making him Ridiculous, dishonours him more than a real dishonour.   

CCCXXVII.  
When we own small Faults, it is with a design to make People believe, we have no great ones.   

CCCXXVIII.  
Envy is more capable of a Reconciliation than Hatred.   

CCCXXIX.  
Men fancy sometimes, they have an aversion to Flattery, when alas, it is only to the manner of expressing it.   

CCCXXX.  
As long as we Love we can Forgive.   

CCCXXXI.  
It is harder to continue Faithful, after good Success, than after ill Usage.   

CCCXXXII.  
Women are not sensible how exceeding Coquet they all are.   

CCCXXXIII.  
Women are never absolutely reserved, except where they have an Aversion.   

CCCXXXIV.  
Women can more easily conquer their Passion, than their Affectation of being courted and admired.   

CCCXXXV.  
Deceit goes generally farther in Love, than Distrust.   

CCCXXXVI.  
There is one kind of Love, where the excess of it prevents Jealousy.   

CCCXXXVII.  
Some good Qualities are like our Senses, those that never had the use of them, can never have any Notion of them.   

CCCXXXVIII.  
When our Hatred is too fierce, it subjects us to the Persons we hate.   

CCCXXXIX.  
Our good and our ill Fortune are both resented, in proportion to the Love we have for ourselves.   

CCCXL.  
Most women's wit tends more to the improving their Folly, than their Reason.   

CCCXLI.  
The Passions of Youth are not much more Enemies to a Man's Salvation, than the Lukewarmness of Old Age.   

CCCXLII.  
The Twang of a Man's native Country sticks by him as much in his Mind, and Disposition, as it does in his Tone of Speaking.   

CCCXLIII.  
He that would make a Great Man, must learn to turn every Accident to some Advantage.   

CCCXLIV.  
The generality of Men are like Plants, that have secret Virtues, which are found out by Chance.   

CCCXLU.  
Opportunities make us known to others, and much more so to ourselves.   

CCCXLVI.  
Women never can have any such thing strict Rules in their Mind, and Disposition, if their Constitution be but consenting.   

CCCXLVII.  
We seldom meet with any Wise Men, except such as are of our own Opinion.   

CCCXLVIII.  
When a Man is in Love, one Doubts very often, what he most firmly believes.   

CCCXLIX.  
The greatest Miracle Love can work, is to cure People of their Coquet Humour.   

CCCL.  
The reason why we have so little Patience with those that have Tricked us, is because they fancy themselves, to have more Wit than we.   

CCCLI.  
When a Man is out of Love with himself, he finds it the hardest thing in the World to break it.   

CCCLII  
We are generally weary of those Men most, whom we ought never to be weary of at all.   

CCCLIII.  
An accomplished Man may love Indiscreetly, but not Sottishly.   

CCCLIU  
There are some Faults, which when Dexterously managed, make a brighter show than Virtue itself.   

CCCLU.  
Some Men are more missed than lamented when we lose them; and others are very much lamented, and very little missed.   

CCCLVI  
We very seldom commend any body in Goodness, except such as admire us.   

CCCLVII.  
Mean Souls are exceedingly struck with little things, but great Souls see them, and are not moved at all.   

CCCLVIII.  
Humility is the sure mark of Christian Virtues, without this we retain all our Faults still, and they are only covered over with Pride, which hides them from other men's Observation, and sometimes from our own too.   

CCCLIX.  
Unfaithfulness ought to quench our Love quite, and we do ill to be jealous when there is Reason; no body deserves the jealousy of another, who will give any just occasion for it.   

CCCLX.  
Small Faults whereby ourselves were Sufferers, lessen the Committers of them in our Esteem, more than great ones committed against other People.   

CCCLXI  
Jealousy is always born with Love, but it does not always die with it.   

CCCLXII.  
Most Ladies lament the Death of their Lovers, not so much because they loved them, as that they may be thought the more worthy to be beloved again.   

CCCLXIII.  
The violences that other People use toward us, are oftentimes less painful, than those we commit upon ourselves.   

CCCLXIV.  
It is a Rule generally known, not to talk much of ones Wife, but Men do not consider as they should, that they ought much less to talk of themselves.   

CCCLXV.  
Some good Qualities, if they be Natural, usually degenerate into Faults, and others again, are never complete, if they be acquired. For instance, a Man should learn good Husbandry in his Estate and his Confidences, from Reason and Experience only, if he would keep this quality from being Vicious; and on the other side, Courage and good Nature must be born with us, or we can never have them in any good degree.   

CCCLXVI.  
Though we pretend never so much to distrust the Sincerity of those we converse with, yet still we think they tell more Truth to us, than to any body else.   

CCCLXVII.  
There are very few honest Women, but what are weary of their Trade.   

CCCLXVIII.  
The generality of honest Women are like hid Treasures, which are safe, only because no body hath sought after them.   

CCCLXIX.  
The force Men use to themselves to hinder Love, is oftentimes more cruel, than the severest usage from the party beloved.   

CCCLXX.  
Very few Cowards know the utmost of their own Fears.   

CCCLXXI.  
It is commonly the fault of People in Love, that they are not sensible when they cease to be beloved.   

CCCLXXII.  
Nothing is so unwelcome a sight as the Person we Love, when we have been Coquetting it with some body else.   

CCCLXXIII.  
There are some Tears that after they have cheated other People, carry on the deceit, and impose upon our very selves at last.   

CCCLXXIV.  
The Man that thinks he loves his Mistress for her own sake, is mightily mistaken.   

CCCLXXV.  
A Man may bear his Faults pretty patiently, when he is hardened so far as to own them.   

CCCLXXVI.  
True Friendship destroys Envy, and true Love breaks a Coquett Humour.   

CCCLXXVII.  
The greatest Fault of a Penetrating Wit, is not coming short of the mark, but overshooting it.   

CCCLXXVIII.  
Other Men may give us good Advice, but they cannot give us the Wit to make a wise use of it.   

CCCLXXIX.  
When our Merit lours, our Palate lours with it.   

CCCLXXX.  
Fortune makes our Virtues and Vices visible, just as Light does the objects of Sight.   

CCCLXXXI.  
When a Man forces himself to be constant in his Love, this is no better than Inconstancy.   

CCCLXXXII.  
Our Actions are like the last Syllables in Words, which every Man makes Rhyme to what he thinks fit.   

CCCLXXXIII.  
The desire of talking of ourselves, and showing our failings on that side we are content they should be seen on, makes up a great part of our Sincerity.   

CCCLXXXIV.  
There is nothing deserves so much to be wondered at, as that Men should live so long, and wonder at any thing.   

CCCLXXXV.  
Men are as far from being satisfied with a great deal of Love, as with a little.   

CCCLXXXVI.  
No Men receive more Injuries and Affronts, than those that can least bear them.   

CCCLXXXVII.  
A Blockhead hath not stuff enough to make a good Man of.   

CCCLXXXVIII.  
If Vanity do not quite over-turn our Virtues, yet at least it makes them Totter.   

CCCLXXXIX.  
We have no patience with other People's Vanity, because it is offensive to our own.   

CCCXC.  
Interest is more easily forgone than Inclination.   

CCCXCI.  
No body thinks Fortune so blind, as those she hath been least kind to.   

CCCXCII.  
We should manage ourselves with regard to our Fortune, as we do with regard to our Health; when good, enjoy and make the best of it; when ill, bear it patiently, and never take strong Physic without an absolute necessity.   

CCCXCIII.  
The Air of a Citizen is sometimes lost in an Army, but never in a Court.   

CCCXCIV.  
One Man may be too cunning for another, but no body can be too cunning for all the World besides.   

CCCXCV.  
'Tis better for a Man sometimes to be deceived in what he Loves, than to be undeceived.   

CCCXCVI.  
The first Lover is kept a long while, when no body can accuse them of a second.   

CCCXCVII.  
We have not the confidence to say in general terms, that ourselves have no ill Qualities, and that our Enemies have no good ones; but when we talk of particulars, we are pretty near thinking so.   

CCCXCVIII.  
Of all our Defaults, we are most easily reconciled to Idleness; we persuade ourselves, that it sticks close to all the peaceable Virtues, and as for the rest, that it does not destroy any of them utterly, but only suspends the Exercise of them.   

CCCXCIX.  
There is a Sublimity of mind that hath no dependence upon Fortune. 'Tis a certain air of Authority, that seems to lay us out for great things, 'tis a value, which we insensibly set upon ourselves, and by this quality it is, that we claim the respects of other People, as if they were our due; and this it is commonly, that raises us more above them, than either Birth, or Honours, or even Desert itself.   

CCCC.  
There is Worth sometimes without a greatness of Soul, but there is never a great Soul without some degree of Worth   

CCCCI.  
Greatness of Mind sets off Merit, as good Dressing does handsome Persons.   

CCCCII.  
Love is the least part of a modish Courtship.   

CCCCIII.  
Fortune sometimes, makes our very Failings the means of raising us, and there are some troublesome Fellows, who deserve to be rewarded so far, as to have their Absence purchased by preferments at a distance.   

CCCCIV.  
Nature seems to have treasured up in every one of our Minds some secret Talents, and some one particular faculty which we are not sensible of; it is the privilege of the Passions alone to bring these to Light, and to direct us sometimes to surer and more excellent Aims than it is possible for Art to do.   

CCCCU.  
We come altogether Fresh and Raw into the several Stages of Life, and notwithstanding we have lived so long, are as much to seek sometimes, as if we had never had any Experience at all.   

CCCCVI.  
Coquettes pretend to be jealous of their Lovers, only to conceal their Envy of other Women.   

CCCCVII.  
Those that are overtaken by any Subtleties of ours, do not seem near so Foolish and Ridiculous to us, as we ourselves are in our own Opinion, when we have been outwitted by them.   

CCCCVIII.  
Nothing is more Ridiculous in old People, that have been Handsome formerly, than to forget, that they are not so still.   

CCCCIX.  
We should often blush for our very best Actions, if the World did but see all the motives upon which they were done.   

CCCCX.  
The boldest stroke, and best act of Friendship, is not to discover our failings to a Friend, but to show him his own.   

CCCCXI.  
The greatest part of our Faults are more excusable, than the Methods that are commonly taken to conceal them.   

CCCCXII.  
Though we have deserved Shame never so much, yet it is almost always in our own Power, to recover our Reputation.   

CCCCXIII.  
After having exposed the falsity of so many seeming Virtues, it is but reasonable I should add somewhat of that Deceit there is in the Contempt of Death. That Contempt of it I mean, which the Heathens pretended to derive from the strength of Nature, and Reason, without any hope of a better Life to animate them. There is a great deal of difference between suffering Death with Bravery and Resolution, and slighting it. The former is very usual, but I very much suspect, that the other is never real and sincere. There hath been a great deal Written, 'tis confessed, and as much as the Subject will bear, to prove, that Death is no Evil; and Men of very inferior Characters as well as Heroes have furnished us with a great many eminent Examples in confirmation of this Opinion. But still I am very much persuaded, that no wise Man ever believed so; and the trouble they are at to persuade others and themselves, shows plainly, that this was no such easy undertaking. There may be a great many Reasons, why Men should be out of conceit with Life; but there can be none, why we should despise Death: Even those, who run voluntarily upon it, do not reckon it so inconsiderable▪ a matter, but are confounded, and decline it as much as others, if it approach them in any other shape, but that of their own choosing. The great Disparity observable between the Courage of a World of brave Men, hath no other Foundation than this, That they have different Ideas of Death, and that it appears more present to their Fancy upon some occasions, and at some times, than it does at others. Hence it is, that after having slighted what they did not know, they are afraid when they come to be better acquainted with it. If a Man would persuade himself, that it is not the very greatest of Evils, he must decline looking it in the Face, and considering all its Ghastly Circumstances. The Wisest and the Bravest Men, are they that take the fairest and most Honourable Pretences, to avoid the consideration of it. But every Body that knows it as it really is, finds it to be a thing full of Horror. The necessity of Dying, was what the Philosophers owed their Constancy of mind to; they thought when there was no Remedy, but a Man must go, it was best to go with a good Grace. And, since there was no possibility of making their lives Eternal, they would stick at nothing to make their Names so, and secure all that from the wreck, which was capable of being secured. Let us put the best Face upon the matter we can, satisfy ourselves with not Speaking all we think; and hope more from a happy Constitution, than all the feeble Reasonings, that gull us with a Fancy of our being able to meet Death unconcerned. The Honour of dying Gallantly, the Hope of being Lamented when we are gone, the Desire of leaving a good Name behind us, the Certainty of a Deliverance from the Miseries of the present Life, and of depending no longer upon a fickle and humoursome Fortune, are Remedies that we shall do well to make our best of.  
But these, though they be no contemptible Remedies, yet we must not suppose they are infallible ones. They may help to put us in Heart, just as a poor Hedge in an Engagement, contributes to Encourage the Soldiers that are to March near, where the Enemy are Firing behind it. While they are at a distance, they imagine, it may be a good Shelter, but when they come up to the place, experience convinces them it is but a thin Defence. 'Tis a vain Imagination, and too fatal a Flattery, to think that Death hath the same Face near at Hand, which we fancy him to have, while we view him at a Distance; and that our Reasonings which in Truth are weakness itself, will prove of so hardened a Temper as to hold out proof, and not yield to the severest of all Trials. Besides, it shows we are but little acquainted with the Power of Self-love, when we imagine, that will do us any service toward the looking upon that very thing as a Trifle, which must of necessity be its utter Ruin; and Reason, in which we so often take Sanctuary, hath not the power upon this occasion to make us believe, what we wish to find true. So far from that, that this betrays us oftener than any other thing; and instead of animating us with a Contempt of Death, gives us a more lively Representation of all its Terror and Gastliness. All it is able to do in our behalf, is only to Advise, that we would turn our Heads another way, and divert the thought by fixing our Eyes upon some other Objects. Cato and Brutus chose Noble ones indeed. A Page not long ago satisfied himself with Dancing upon the Scaffold, whither he was brought to be Broke upon the Wheel. And thus, though in the Motives there was a vast difference, yet still the Effects were exactly the same. So true it is, that after all the disproportion between Great, and vulgar Minds, people of both sorts have given a World of instances, of meeting Death with the same unconcernedness. But still there is this difference observable betwixt them, that in the Contempt of Death which great Men express, the Desire and Love of Honour is the thing that blinds them; and in People of a meaner Capacity and Disposition, their Ignorance and Stupidity is the thing, that keeps them from seeing the greatness of the Evil they are to suffer, and leaves them at Liberty to take their thoughts off from this Subject, and place them upon something else.    

New Moral Reflections.  
PART II.  

I.  
A Man can never Please long, that hath but one sort of Wit.   

II.  
Fools and Coxcombs see all by their own Humour.   

III.  
Wit serves sometimes to make us play the Fool with greater Confidence.   

IV.  
Briskness, that increases with Old Age, is but one Degree removed from Folly.   

V.  
The first cure in Love is always the best.   

VI  
Young Women that would not be thought Coquett, and Old Men that would not be Ridiculous, should never talk of Love, as if they had any concern in it.   

VII.  
We may seem Great in an Employment below our Desert, but we very often look little in one that is too Big for us.   

VIII.  
We often in our Misfortunes take that for Constancy and Patience, which is only Dejection of Mind; we suffer without daring to hold up our Heads, just as Cowards let themselves be knocked o'th' Head, because they have not Courage to strike again.   

IX.  
Confidence goes farther in Company, than Wit.   

X.  
All our Passions engage us in Faults; but those are the most Ridiculous ones, that Love makes us commit.   

XI.  
Few Men know how to be Old.   

XII.  
We value ourselves, and take a pride in the Faults most distant from our own: when we are fickle and irresolute, we brag of being Obstinate and Peremptory.   

XIII.  
A Penetrating Wit hath an Air of Divination, which swells our Vanity more than any other Accomplishment of the Mind.   

XIV.  
The Beauty of Novelty, and the length of Custom, though so very opposite to one another, yet agree in this, that they both alike keep us from discovering the Faults of our Friends.   

XV.  
Most Friends grow weary of their Friendship, and most of their Vows.   

XVI.  
We easily forgive our Friends those Faults, by which ourselves are not offended.   

XVII.  
Women in Love can sooner forgive great Indiscretions, than small Infidelities.   

XVIII.  
It is with an old Love, as it is with old Age, a Man lives to all the Miseries, but is dead to all the Pleasures of Life.   

XIX.  
Nothing hinders a thing from being Natural, so much as the sraining ourselves to make it seem so.   

XX.  
When we commend good Actions, we make them in some measure our own.   

XXI.  
The surest sign of a noble Disposition, is to have no Envy in ones Nature.   

XXII.  
When our Friends have deceived us, there is nothing but indifference due to the Expressions of their Kindness; but still we owe them a tender sense of their Misfortunes.   

XXIII.  
Fortune and Humour govern the World.   

XXIV.  
It is easier to know what Mankind is in general, than what any one Man is in particular.   

XXV.  
A Man's worth is not to be esteemed, so much according to his good Qualities, as according to the use he makes of them.   

XXVI.  
There is a kind of Acknowledgement, that does not only discharge us of all past Obligations, but makes our Friends our Debtors for new kindnesses, while we pay what we are indebted for old ones.   

XXVII.  
We should desire very few things Passionately, if we did but perfectly know the Nature of the things we desire.   

XXVIII.  
The Reason why most Women have so little Sense of Friendship, is because this is but a cold and flat Passion, to those that have felt that of Love.   

XXIX.  
In Friendship as well as Love, Ignorance very often contributes more to our Happiness, than Knowledge.   

XXX.  
We attempt to Vindicate, and value ourselves upon those Faults we have no design to mend.   

XXXI.  
The strongest Passions allow us some rest, but Vanity keeps us perpetually in Motion.   

XXXII.  
The older a Fool is, the worse he is.   

XXXIII.  
Irresolution is more opposite to Virtue, than Vice.   

XXXIV.  
The pains we feel from Shame and Jealousy are therefore so cutting, because Vanity can give us no Assistance in the bearing them.   

XXXV.  
Decency is the least of all Laws, and yet the most followed.   

XXXVI.  
A good Disposition finds it easier to submit to perverse ones, than to direct and manage them.   

XXXVII.  
When Fortune surprises a Man with a great Preferment, to which he is neither Advanced by Degrees, nor raised before by his own Hopes; it is scarce possible for one to behave himself well, and make the World think he deserves his Character.   

XXXVIII.  
What we cut off from our other Faults, is very often but so much added to our Pride.   

XXXIX.  
There are no Coxcombs so troublesome, as those that have some Wit.   

XL.  
Every Man thinks himself in some one good Quality or other, equal to the Person he hath the highest esteem for.   

XLI.  
In affairs of Consequence, it is not a Man's Business so much to seek Occasions, as to make the best of those that offer themselves.   

XLII.  
Generally Speaking, it were a good saving Bargain, to renounce all the good Men said of us, upon Condition they would say no ill.   

XLIII.  
As much as the World is inclined to think ill of one another, we see them oftener favourable to false Merit, than injurious to true.   

XLIV.  
A Man of Wit may sometimes be a Coxcomb, but a Man of Judgement never can.   

XLV.  
We shall get more by letting the World see us as we really are, than by striving to appear what we are not.   

XLVI.  
The Judgements our Enemies make concerning us, come nearer to the Truth, than those we pass concerning ourselves.   

XLVII.  
Several Remedies are good to cure Love, but there is never a one of them Infallible.   

XLVIII.  
We none of us know the utmost that our Passions have the Power to make us do.   

XLIX.  
Old Age is a Tyrant, that forbids us all the Pleasures of Youth, upon pain of Death.   

L.  
The same Pride that disposes us to condemn the Faults we think ourselves free from, inclines us to undervalue the good qualities we want.   

LI.  
The bewailing our Enemy's misfortunes, is sometimes more the effect of Pride than of Good Nature; we express our Pity and Compassion, to make them know that we are above them.   

LII.  
It is impossible for us to love any thing without some respect to ourselves; and we only consult our own Inclination, and our own Pleasure when we prefer our Friends before our own Interest, and yet this preference is the only thing, that can render Friendship perfect and sincere.   

LIII.  
What Men call Friendship, is no more than Society; 'tis only a mutual care of Interests, an exchange of good Offices. In a word, it is only a sort of Traffic, in which Self-love ever proposes to be the Gainer.   

LIV.  
There is an Excess both in Happiness and Misery, above our power of Sensation.   

LV.  
Innocence does not find near so much Protection, as Gild.   

LVI.  
Of all violent Passions, that which does a Woman lest hurt, is Love.   

LVII.  
Vanity prevails with us to deny ourselves, more than Reason can do.   

LVIII.  
There are some bad Qualities, that make great Accomplishments.   

LIX.  
Men never desire any thing very eagerly, which they desire only by the Dictates of Reason.   

LX.  
All our Qualities are Doubtful and Uncertain, both in Good and Evil; and they are almost all at the disposal of Time and Opportunity.   

LXI.  
At first Women love their Lover, but afterwards they love the Passion itself.   

LXII.  
Pride as well as other Passions, hath its unaccountable Whimsies; we are shamed to own ourselves Jealous, when we are so; and yet afterwards we value ourselves upon having been so, and for being capable of being so.   

LXIII.  
As uncommon a thing as true Love is, it is yet easier to find than true Friendship.   

LXIV.  
Few women's Worth lasts longer than their Beauty.   

LXV.  
The greatest part of our intimate Confidences, proceed from a desire either to be Pitied or Admired.   

LXVI.  
Our Envy always lasts longer than the good Fortune of those we Envy.   

LXVII.  
The same Resolution which helps to resist Love, helps to make it more violent and lasting too. People of unsettled Minds are always driven about with Passions, but never absolutely filled with any.   

LXVIII.  
It is not in the Power of Imagination itself, to invent so many odd, and distant Contrarieties, as there are naturally in the Heart of every Man.   

LXIX.  
No Man can have a true Sweetness of Temper without Constancy and Resolution; they that seem to have it, have commonly, only an easiness that quickly turns Peevish and Sour.   

LXX.  
Cowardice is a dangerous Fault to tell those of that we would have mend it.   

LXXI.  
It ought to be agreed on all hands for the Honour of Virtue, that men's greatest Miseries, are such as their own Vices bring upon them.   

LXXII.  
True good Nature is a mighty Rarety; those that fancy they have it, are commonly no better than either weak, or complaisant.   

LXXIII.  
Idleness and Constancy fix the mind to what it finds easy and agreeable; this Habit always Confines and Cramps up our Notions, and no body was ever at the pains to stretch and carry his understanding, as far as it could go.   

LXXIV.  
We speak ill of other People, commonly not so much out of Malice, as Pride.   

LXXV.  
When the Soul is Ruffled by the remains of one's Passion, it is more disposed to entertain a new one, than when it is entirely cured, and at rest from all.   

LXXVI.  
Those that have had great Passions, find themselves perpetually Happy and Unhappy in being cured of them.   

LXXVII.  
There are fewer Men free from Envy, than void of Interest.   

LXXVIII.  
Our minds are as much given to Laziness, as our Bodies.   

LXXIX.  
The Composedness, or the Disorder of our Humour, does not depend so much upon the great and most considerable Accidents of our Lives, as upon a suitable, or unsuitable Management of little things, that befall us every Day.   

LXXX.  
Though Men are extremely Wicked, yet they never had the Confidence to profess themselves Enemies to Virtue, and even when they take delight in persecuting it, they either pretend not to think it real, or forge some Faults, and lay to its charge.   

LXXXI.  
Men often go from Love to Ambition, but they seldom come back again from Ambition to Love.   

LXXXII.  
Extreme Covetousness is generally mistaken; no Passion in the World so often misses of its Aim, nor is so much prevailed upon by the present, in prejudice to a future Interest.   

LXXXIII.  
Covetousness sometimes is the cause of quite contrary Effects. There are a world of People, that Sacrifice all their present Possessions to doubtful and distant Hopes; and others again slight great Advantages that are future, for the sake of some mean and pitiful gain in present.   

LXXXIV.  
One would think, Men could never suppose they had Faults enough, they are so perpetually adding to the number of them, by some particular Qualities which they affect to set themselves off with: and these they Cherish and Cultivate so carefully, that they come at last to be Natural, and past their Power to mend, though they would.   

LXXXV.  
Men are more sensible of their own Failings than we are apt to imagine; for they are seldom in the Wrong, when we hear them talk of their Conduct; the same Principle of Self Love that blinds them at other times, makes them quick sighted upon these Occasions, and shows them things in so true a light, that it forces them to suppress or disguise the least matters, that are liable to be Condemned.   

LXXXVI.  
When young men come first into the World, it is fit they should be either very Modest or very Heavy; for brisk Parts, and a composed Temper commonly turn to Impertinence.   

LXXXVII.  
Quarrels would never last long, if there were not Faults on both sides.   

LXXXVIII.  
It signifies little for Women to be young, except they be Handsome, nor Handsome except they be young.   

LXXXIX.  
Some Persons are so extremely Whiffling and Inconsiderable, that they are as far from any real Faults, as they are from substantial Virtues.   

XC.  
A Ladies first Intrigue is never reckoned, till she admits of a second.   

XCI.  
Some Men are so exceeding full of themselves, that when they fall in Love, they entertain themselves with their own Passion, instead of the Person they make Love to.   

XCII.  
Love, though a very agreeable Passion, pleases more by the ways it takes to show itself, than it does upon its own Account.   

XCIII.  
A little Wit with a good Disposition is less Troublesome at long run, than a great deal of Wit with a perverse Temper.   

XCIV.  
Jealousy is the greatest of Evils, and meets with least pity from the Persons that occasion it.   

XCV.  
Men of Indifferent Parts are apt to Condemn every thing above their own Capacity.   

XCVI.  
Most young men think they follow Nature, when they are Rough and ill Bred.   

XCVII.  
The Grace of being New is to Love, as the Gloss is to the Fruits, it gives it a Lustre, which is easily Defaced, and when once gone, never returns any more.   

XCVIII.  
If we look nicely into the several Effects of Envy it will be found to carry a Man more from his Duty, than Interest does.   

XCIX.  
Most men are ashamed of having loved themselves, when they leave off doing it.   

C.  
A Good taste of things is more the effect of Judgement, than Wit.   

CI.  
Men are obstinate in contradicting Opinions generally received, not so much because they are Ignorant, as because they are Proud; those that are on the right side have got the upper hand, and they Scorn to take up with the lower.   

CII.  
Prosperous Persons seldom mend much; they always think themselves in the right, so long as Fortune approves their ill Conduct.   

CIII.  
Nothing should be a greater Humiliation, to Persons that have deserved great Praises, than the Trouble they are Eternally at, to make themselves valued by poor and little things.   

CIV.  
Flattery is like false Money, and if it were not for our own Vanity could never pass in Payment.   

CV.  
The ungrateful Man is less to blame for his Ingratitude, than the Person that laid the Obligation upon him.   

CVI  
Our bad Qualities commonly take better in Conversation, than our good ones.   

CVII.  
Men would never live so long together in Society, and good Correspondence, if they did not mutually make Fools of one another.   

CVIII.  
What we call Passions, are in Truth nothing else, but so many different Degees of Heat, and Cold in the Blood.   

CIX.  
Moderation in Prosperity is generally nothing else, but apprehension of the Shame that attends an indecent Transport, or the Fear of losing what one hath.   

CX.  
Moderation is like Temperance, a Man would be well enough pleased to eat more, but only he is afraid it will not agree with his Health.   

CXI.  
All the World thinks that a Fault in another, which they think so in themselves.   

CXII.  
When Pride hath used all its Artifices, and appeared in all its Shapes, and played all the parts of Humane Life, as if it were grown weary of Disguises, it pulls off the Mask, and shows its own true Face at last, and is known by its Insolence. So that properly Speaking, Insolence is the breaking out, the very Complexion, and true Discovery of Pride.   

CXIII.  
We are sensible only of strong Transports, and extraordinary Emotions in our Humour and Constitution, as of Anger, when it is Violent, and very few discern that these Humours have a regular, and stated Course, which move our wills to different Actions by gentle and insensible Impressions. They go their rounds as it were, and command us by turns, so that a considerable part of what we do is theirs, though we are not able to see how it is so.   

CXIV.  
One considerable part of Happiness is to know how far a Man must be Unhappy.   

CXV.  
If a Man cannot find ease within himself, it is to very little purpose to seek it any where else.   

CXVI.  
No Man should engage for what he will do, except he could answer for his Success.   

CXVII.  
How should we be able to say what will please us hereafter, when we scarce know exactly what we would have at present.   

CXVIII.  
Justice with many Men, is only the fear of having what is our own taken from us. This makes them tender of their Neighbour's property, and careful not to invade it. This fear holds Men in, within the compass of that Estate, which Birth or Fortune hath given them, and 〈◊〉 it not for this, they would continually be making Incursions upon one another.   

CXIX.  
Justice in well behaved Judges, is often only the love of their Preferment.   

CXX.  
The first motion of Joy for the Happiness of our Friends, is not always the Effect either of Good Nature, or Friendship, but of Self-love, which flatters us with the Hope, that our turn of being Happy is coming, or that we shall reap some Benefit from their Good Fortune.   

CXXI.  
As if the power of Transforming itself were small, Self-love does frequently transform its Objects too; and that after a very strange manner. It not only disguises them so Artificially, as to deceive it self, but it perfectly altars the Nature and Condition of the things themselves. Thus when any Person acts in opposition to us, Self-love passes Sentence upon every Action with the utmost Rigour of Justice; it aggravates every Defect of his, and makes it look Monstrous and Horrible; and it sets all his Excellencies in so ill a Light, that they look more Disagreeable than his Defects. And yet when any of our Affairs brings this Person back again to Reconciliation and Favour, the satisfaction we receive presently restores his Merit, and allows him all that our Aversion so lately took from him. His ill Qualities are utterly forgot, and his good ones appear with greater Lustre than before; nay, we summon all our Indulgence and Partiality to excuse and justify the quarrel he formerly had against us. This is a Truth attested by every Passion, but none gives such clear Evidence of it as Love. For we find the Lover, when full of Rage and Revenge at the Neglect or the Unfaithfulness of his Mistress, yet lay by all the violence of his Resentments, and one view of her calms his Passions again. His Transport and Joy pronounces this Beauty innocent, accuses himself alone, and condemns nothing but his own condemning her before. By this strange Magical Power of Self-love, the blackest and basest Actions of his Mistress are made White and Innocent, and he takes the fault off from Her to lay it upon Himself.   

CXXII.  
The most pernicious Effect of Pride, is, That it blinds men's Eyes; for this cherishes and increases the Vice, and will not let us see any of those Remedies, that might either soften our Misfortunes, or correct our Extravagances.   

CXXIII.  
When once Men are passed all Hopes of finding Reason from others, they grow passed all reason themselves.   

CXXIV.  
The Philosophers, and especially Seneca, did not remove men's Faults by their Instructions, but only directed them to contribute the more to the setting up their Pride.   

CXXV.  
The wisest Men commonly show themselves so in less matters, and generally fail in those of the greatest Consequence.   

CXXVI.  
The nicest Folly proceeds from the nicest Wisdom.   

CXXVII.  
Sobriety is very often only a Fondness of Health, and the Effect of a weak Constitution, which will not bear Intemperance.   

CXXVIII.  
A Man never forgets things so effectually, as when he hath talked himself weary of them.   

CXXIX.  
That modesty that would seem to decline Praise, is at the bottom only a desire of having it better expressed.   

CXXX.  
There is this good at least in Commendation, that it helps to confirm Men in the practice of Virtue.   

CXXXI.  
We are to blame not to distinguish between the several sorts of Anger, for there is one kind of it Light and Harmless, and the result of a warm Complexion; and another kind exceeding Vicious, which, if we would call it by its right Name, is the very Rage and Madness of Pride.   

CXXXII.  
Great Souls are not distinguished by having less Passion, and more Virtue; but by having Nobler and Greater Designs, than the Vulgar.   

CXXXIII.  
Self-love makes more Men Cruel, than natural Sternness, and a rough Temper.   

CXXXIV.  
Every Man that hath some Vices is not Despised, but every Man that hath no Virtue is and aught to be despised.   

CXXXV.  
Those that find no Disposition in themselves to be guilty of great Faults, are not apt upon slight grounds to suspect others of them.   

CXXXVI.  
Pompous Funerals are made more out of a design to gratify the vanity of the Living, than to do any Honour to the Dead.   

CXXXVII.  
In the midst of all the uncertain and various accidents in the World, we may discern a secret Connexion, a certain Method, and regular Order, constantly observed by Providence; which brings every thing in in its due place, and makes all contribute to the fullfilling the Ends appointed for it.   

CXXXVIII.  
Fearlessness is requisite to Bu●y up the mind in Wickedness, and Conspiracies, but Valour is sufficient to give a Man constancy of mind in Honourable Actions, and the Hazards of War.   

CXXXIX.  
No Man can engage for his own Courage, who was never in any Danger that might put it upon the Trial.   

CXL.  
Imitation always succeeds ill; and even those things which when Natural are most graceful and charming, when put on, and affected, we Nauseate and Despise.   

CXLI.  
Goodness when Universal, and showed to all the World without distinction, is very hardly known from great Cunning and Address.   

CXLII.  
The way to be always safe, is to possess other People with an Opinion, that they can never do an ill thing to us, without suffering for it.   

CXLIII.  
A Man's own Confidence in himself makes up a great part of that Trust which he hath in others.   

CXLIV.  
There is a kind of General Revolution, not more visible in the turn it gives to the fortunes of the World, than it is in the Change of men's Understandings, and the Different relish of Wit.   

CXLV.  
Magnanimity is a bold stroke of Pride, by which a Man gets above himself, in order to get above every thing else.   

CXLVI.  
Luxury and too great Delicacy in a State, is a sure sign that their Affairs are in a declining Condition, for when Men are so Nice and Curious in their own concerns, they mind nothing but private Interest, and take off all their care from the Public.   

CXLVII.  
Of all the Passions we are exposed to, none is more concealed from our Knowledge than Idleness. It is the most Violent, and the most Mischievous of any, and yet at the same time its Violence we are never sensible of, and the damage we sustain by it is very seldom seen. If we consider▪ its Power carefully, it will be found upon all Occasions to Reign absolute over all our Sentiments, our Interests, and our Pleasures. This is a Remora that can stop the largest Ships, and a Calm of worse consequence to our Affairs, than any Rocks, and Storms. The Ease and Quiet of Sloth, is a secret charm upon the Soul, to suspend its most eager pursuits, and shakes its most peremptory Resolutions. In a Word, to give a true Image of this Passion, we must say, that it is a supposed Felicity of the Soul, that makes her easy under all her Losses, and supplies the Place of all her Enjoyments and Advantages.   

CXLVIII.  
There are several Virtues made up of many different Actions, cast into such a convenient Order by Fortune, as she thought fit.   

CXLIX.  
Most Women yield more through Weakness than Passion; and this is the Reason, that bold daring Men commonly succeed better than others, who have as much or more Merit to recommend them.   

CL.  
The Sincerity, which Lovers and their Lady's Bargain for, in agreeing to tell one another, when they can Love no longer, is not asked so much out of a desire to be Satisfied, when their Love is at an End; as to be the better assured, that Love does really continue, so long as they are told nothing to the contrary.   

CLI.  
Love cannot be compared to any thing more properly, than to a Fever; for in both Cases, both the Degree, and the continuance of the Disease is out of a Man's own Power.   

CLII  
Most young People impute that Behaviour to a Natural and easy Fashion, which in Truth proceeds from no other Cause, than the Want of good Breeding and good Sense.    

Maxims and Mixed Thoughts.  
PART III.  

Maxims. I.  
AS nothing betrays greater weakness and want of Reason than to submit one's Judgement to another Man's without any Examination, or Consideration of our own; so nothing Argues a great Spirit, and true Wisdom, more than the submitting to Almighty God with an absolute and implicit Faith, and believing whatever he says upon the single Authority of his own Word.   

II.  
True worth does not depend upon Times nor Fashions. They that have only the Advantage of a Court Air, any where else are no better than their Neighbours. But good Sense, Learning, and Wisdom, are Qualifications that recommend a Man▪ and make him Valued every where, and at all times.   

III.  
Instead of applying ourselves to know others, we mind nothing else, but the making ourselves known. It would turn to much better Account, to hear and so get more Knowledge; than to talk all, that we may Publish what we have got already.   

IV.  
It is sometimes of great Use for a Man to pretend he is Deceived: For when we let a Subtle Fellow see that we are sensible of his Tricks, it gives him Occasion to play more.   

V.  
Men Judge of things so very Slightly and Superficially, that the most Ordinary Words and Actions set off with a good Grace, and some little Knowledge how matters go in the World, very often take more, than the most Profound Wisdom.   

VI  
To be very much dissatisfied with a Man's self is a Weakness. But to be highly pleased with one's Self, is downright Folly.   

VII.  
Men of mean Capacities, and ill Breeding, but especially your half witted Fellows, and dabblers in Books, are most apt to be Stiff and Peremptory. None but manly Souls can unsay what they have said, and forsake an Error when they find themselves on the wrong side.   

VIII.  
A Man's greatest Wisdom consists in being acquainted with his own Follies.   

IX.  
Honesty and Sincerity in our Dealings puts ill Men out of their Bias, it breaks all their Measures by which they hoped to compass their Ends; for Knaves commonly think, that nothing can be done, but by Knavery.   

X.  
It is a hard task upon Knaves to be perpetually Employed in concealing their own Want of Sincerity, and making amends for the breaches of their Promise.   

XI.  
They that do all by Tricking, ought however to consult their own Reason so far, as to convince themselves, that such a Behaviour cannot go long undetected where ●en ar● Ingenious, and always upon the Watch to discover them; tho' they may see fit to pretend they are imposed upon for a while, only to Dissemble their being sensible of the Cheat.   

XII.  
Our Kindnesses sometimes create us more Enemies, and the Ungrateful Man is seldom so by halves; for he is not satisfied with not paying the acknowledgement that is due; but is uneasy, that his Benefactor lives a Witness of his Ingratitude.   

XIII.  
Nothing can give us so just a Notion of the depravity of Mankind in General, as an exact Knowledge of our own Corruptions in particular. If we reflect upon our Thoughts, we shall find the seeds of all Vice within our own Breasts, and if we do not act it all, yet 'tis plain we are moved to it. For there is no kind of ill, but Self-Love offers to us to make Use of as Occasion shall serve. And few are so Virtuous as to be above Temptation.   

XIV.  
Riches do by no means teach us to be less fond of Riches. The possessing of a Abundance is very far from giving us the quiet, that there is in not desiring them.   

XV.  
None but little Souls are disturbed at having their Ignorance Reproved, and the Reason is, That being generally very Blind, and Foolish, they never trouble themselves with Doubts, and are fully satisfied, they see those things clearly which they have but a very Dark and imperfect Sense of, and see only through the thick Mist of a clouded Understanding.   

XVI.  
It is every whit as unreasonable, for a Man to accuse himself for his Faults extravagantly, as it is to excuse himself so. Those that blame themselves so very much, do it very often, because they cannot endure to be Blamed by any body else; or else out of a vain Humour, to persuade People that they are duly sensible of their own Failings.   

XVII.  
It argues great Wisdom own our own Faults and our Perfections sincerely. And is a weakness, not to allow both the Good and the Bad Qualities that we really have.   

XVIII.  
The World is so fond of every thing, that is fresh and uncommon, that Men take secret Pleasure, and find Entertainment, even in the sight of the Dismallest and most tragical Accidents; and that, partly because they are New, and partly from a principal of ill Nature that is in us.   

XIX.  
Men might come to a tolerable good Knowledge of themselves, but they seldom take the pains of enquiring into themselves, so much as is necessary for the attaining it; and they are more Solicitous to be thought what they should be, than really to be what they should be.   

XX.  
If People were but as careful to be what they ought, as to seem so and impose upon others, by concealing what in truth they are; they might show themselves boldly, and save a world of trouble which Dissimulation puts them to.   

XXI.  
There is no Man, but may find great Advantage from Learning; but than it is as true, that there are few who do not find great prejudice too, from the Notions they acquire by Studies, except they use them, as if they were natural to them.   

XXII.  
There is a certain Temper very nice to hit, in our Courage to Persons above us, so as to allow ourselves all the Freedom, that is necessary to divert and entertain them; and yet to take none that may be any way offensive, or break in upon the Honour and Respect due to their Quality.   

XXIII.  
Men are often more desirous to seem forward and busy to serve others, than to be successful in it, and had rather have it in their power to upbraid their Friends with an Obligation, than really to oblige them.   

XXIV.  
Men are sometimes beholding to want of Judgement for good Success, for a judicious Person would not venture upon several attempts, which mere want of Consideration frequently makes Men Fortunate in.   

XXV.  
Former times are sometimes cried up, only to run down the present, and we value what is now no more, that we may slight that which is.   

XXVI.  
There is a kind of commanding Power, in men's manner of Speaking, and in their Actions; some thing that makes its own way where ever it comes, and engages respect and attention before Hand. It is of use upon all occasions, and so great, as even to carry whatever one hath a mind to.   

XXVII.  
This commanding Faculty, so useful upon all occasions, is no other, than a graceful Authority proceeding From a Greatness and Elevation of Soul.   

XXVIII.  
Self-love is often cheated by its own self; for when it considers its own Interests it so wholly overlooks, the Interest of others, as thereby to lose all the Advantage, that might be made, by the Exchange of kindnesses between Man and Man.   

XXIX.  
All the World are so entirely taken up with their own Passions, and their own Interests, that they are Eternally full of them in all their Discourse, without ever concerning themselves with the Passion or Interest of the Persons they speak to, though they too have the same occasion for Audience and Assistance.   

XXX.  
The Ties of Virtue ought to be more Sacred and Close, than those of Blood. For one good Man is nearer of Kin to another by the Resemblance of their manners, than Father and Son are by the Resemblance of Faces.   

XXXI.  
One great Reason, why we meet with so few agreeable Persons, and that Converse like Men of Sense, is, That almost every Body is more intent upon what himself hath a mind to say, than upon making pertinent Replies to what the rest of the Company say to him. Those that are most Complaisant, go no farther than pretending to hearken Attentively, when at the same time a Man may plainly see, that both their Eyes and their Minds are roving, from what is said to them, and posting back again to what they long to be at themselves. Whereas we ought to know, that to seek ones own Pleasure so very Passionately, can never be the way to please the Company. And that Diligent Attention and proper Repartees are a much greater Accomplishment, than discoursing never so well, when this is done without ever attending, or answering to the matter then in Hand.   

XXXII.  
Good Fortune almost always altars the Proceedings and the Air of a Man, and makes him quite another thing in all his Behaviour and Conversation. This is a great weakness to trick and set one's self off with what is not our own. If Virtue were esteemed above all other things, no Favour, no Advancement would be able to change Men either in their Temper or their Countenance.   

XXXIII.  
We should use ourselves to other People's Follies, and not take offence at every Impertinence, that passes in our Company.   

XXXIV.  
A great Soul takes whatever Happens, and there is as much Wisdom in bearing with other People's Defects, as in being sensible of their good Qualities.   

XXXV.  
It is a great Argument of an extraordinary Judgement, when a Man is able to discover, what is in another's Breast, and to conceal what is in his own.   

XXXVI.  
Talking all is so great a Fault, that in Business and Conversation, if what is good be short, it is for that reason doubly good; and a Man gains that by Brevity, which would often be lost by being Tedious.   

XXXVII.  
We generally gain an Ascendant, and are Masters over those we are very well acquainted with; because the Man that is perfectly known, is in some measure subjected to the Person that knows him.   

XXXVIII.  
Study and the Enquiry after Truth, hath very often only this Effect, That it makes us know Experimentally how Ignorant we are by Nature.   

XXXIX.  
Men are most esteemed when the World does not know the utmost of their Abilities. For things that are understood but by halves, are always presumed greater than really they are.   

XL.  
The desire of being thought a Wise Man very often hinders one from being so, for such a one is more Solicitous to let the World see what Knowledge he hath, than to learn that which he Wants.   

XLI.  
Littleness of Soul, and Ignorance, and Presumption make People Obstinate in their Opinions; for Opinionative Men will believe nothing but what they can Comprehend; and there are but very few things that they are able to Comprehend.   

XLII.  
To disown our Faults, when we are told of them, is but to make them more and greater.   

XLIII.  
We should not Regard how much Good a Friend hath done us, so much as how much he Desired and Endeavoured to do us.   

XLIV.  
Though we ought not to Love our Friends, only for the Good they do us, yet it is a plain Case, they love not Us, if they do not do us Good, when they have it in their Power.   

XLV.  
It is neither any great Reflection nor Commendation to say a Man's Wit is, or is not in the Fashion. For if it be what it ought to be at any Time, it continues to be so at all Times.   

XLVI.  
The Love of a Man's Self is Generally the Rule and Measure of all our Friendship to others. It supersedes all Duties and Obligations, where Interest is concerned; and lays down all Resentments against our Enemies, how just soever the Causes of them were, when they are considerable enough to Promote our Honour, or our Fortunes.   

XLVII.  
It is but an idle and useless Trouble, to make great Inquiries what is done in the World, except all this tend to the reforming of one's Self.   

XLVIII.  
Circumstances and outward Appearances procure a Man frequently more Respect, than real Worth, and a good Bottom. An ungraceful Fashion spoils all, even Justice and Reason itself. The best part of things depends upon the How, and the Air we give them, Gilds, Accommodates and Sweetens the most Ungrateful Matters. All this is owing to the Weakness, and the Prepossessions of men's Judgements.   

XLIX.  
We should make the Follies of Others, rather a Warning and Instruction to ourselves, than a Subject of Mirth, and Mockery of those that commit them.   

L.  
The Conversation of Men that are of a Dogmatical and Governing Spirit is the troublesomest thing that can be. We should be always ready to submit to the Truth, and receive it readily, let it come from what Hand it will.   

LI.  
A Man may learn as much by other People's Faults, as by their Instructions. The Examples of Imperfection are in a manner as Useful towards the making a Man Perfect, as those of Wisdom and Perfection.   

LII.  
We are better pleased with those that strive to imitate us, than with those that Endeavour to Equal us. For imitation argues Esteem, but a desire of Equality argues Envy.   

LIII.  
'Tis a very commendable piece of 〈◊〉 to make a Denial go down well 〈◊〉 soft and civil Expressions, and 〈…〉 supply the Kindness we cannot Grant.   

LIV.  
There are a sort of Persons that say No so very Naturally, that their No always Ushers in whatever they are about to say. This makes them so disagreeable, that though they be prevailed upon with much Importunity to grant any request, yet all the Grace and the Commendation of such Grants are utterly lost by so very untoward a beginning.   

LV.  
All things ought not to be Granted, nor all Men to be Gratified. It is altogether as commendable, to deny upon a just Occasion, as to give in due Season. This makes some People's No better received, than other People's Yes. A Denial when managed with good Nature and softened with Civility, gives more Satisfaction to a Man of Understanding, than a Favour coldly and rudely Granted.   

LVI.  
There is a great deal of Wisdom required in the Choice of good Council, as well as in the being able to advise ones own self. Men of the best Judgement are always most ready to consult the Opinions of others, and it is one Eminent instance of Wisdom to submit one's self to the good Conduct of a Friend.   

LVII.  
The Doctrines of Christianity, which ought to be derived only from the Truths contained in the Gospel, are Generally represented to us, according to the Temper and Complexion of our Teachers. Some out of an exceeding tenderness and Good Nature, and others from a sour and rugged Disposition, form and employ the Justice and Mercy of God, just according to their own Apprehensions of things.   

LVIII.  
In the Study of humane Learning our Soul ought always to preserve its own Freedom, and not enslave itself to other People's Fancies. The Liberty of the Judgement should have its full Scope, and not take any thing upon Trust, from the Credit of any Man's Authority. When different Opinions are proposed to us, we should consider and choose, if there are such odds between them, as to admit of a Choice; and if there be not, than we should continue in suspense still.   

LIX.  
Contradiction should awaken our Attention and Care, but not our Passion. Those that oppose us aught rather to be heard, than avoided. For we must be of no Interest but that of Truth, after what manner so ever she happen to Discover herself to us.   

LX.  
Ostentation and Pride upon the account of Honours and Preferments, is much more offensive, than upon any personal Qualifications. It argues, Men do not deserve Great Places, when they can Value themselves upon them, if a Man would be truly Valued, the way to it is by being illustriously Good. For even the greatest Men are more respected for the Eminence of their Parts and Virtue, than for that of their Fortune.   

LXI.  
There is nothing so mean, but hath some Perfection. It is the peculiar happiness of a discerning Palate, to find out each thing's particular Excellence. But the malice of our corrupt Nature puts us oftentimes upon discovering one Vice among many Virtues, that so we may Aggravate and Proclaim that to their Disparagement. Now this is not so much an Argument of a Nice Judgement, as of a Base Disposition; and that Man hath but an ill Life on't, who feeds himself with the Faults and Frailties of other People.   

LXII.  
There is a particular way of harkening to one's Self, that is ever displeasing; for it is as great a Folly to hear one's self in Company, as to talk all, and hear no Body but ones Self.   

LXIII.  
A Man is but little the better for liking himself, when no Body else likes him. For an Immoderate Love of ones Self is very often chastised by Contempt from others.   

LXIV.  
There is always under the greatest Devotion, a proportion of Self-love concealed, great enough to set bounds to our Charity.   

LXV.  
Some People are so Blind, and flatter themselves to so great a Degree, that they always believe what they with, and think to make every body believe what they have a mind to; though the Arguments they would persuade with are never so poor and weak, their prepossessions are so strong that they think they need only talk Loud and Big, and be very positive, to make all the World of their Opinion.   

LXVI.  
Ignorance creates Irresolution and Fear, Learning makes Men Bold and assured, but nothing disturbs a Mind that is truly wise and knows how to distinguish things rightly.  
  

LXVII.  
It is a general Failing, that Men never think their own Fortunes too great, nor their own Wit too little.   

LXVIII.  
There cannot be a meaner thing, than to take Advantage of ones Quality and Greatness, to ridicule and insult over those of an inferior Condition.   

LXIX.  
When a Positive Man hath once begun to dispute any thing, his mind is barred up against all light and better Information, Opposition provokes him, though there be never so good ground for it, and he seems to be afraid of nothing more, than lest he should be convinced of the Truth.   

LXX.  
The Shame of being commended without any Desert, sometimes puts Men upon doing, what otherwise they would never have once attempted to do.   

LXXI.  
It is much better that great Persons should thirst after Honour; nay, that they should even be vain upon the account of doing well, than that they should be wholly clear of this Passion; for though the good they do, proceeds not from a principle of Virtue, yet the World however hath this Advantage, that their Vanity makes them do, what, if they were not vain, they would not have done.   

LXXII.  
They that are so Foolish, as to value themselves merely for their Quality, do in a great measure slight that very thing, that gave them their Quality; for, though they receive it by descent now, yet it was the Virtue of their Ancestors that first ennobled their blood.   

LXXIII.  
Self-love makes us impose upon ourselves in almost every kind of thing: We hear Faults condemned by other People; nay, we often condemn them with our own Mouths, and yet take no care to amend them; and that either because we are not sensible of the Ill that we carry about us, or else that we look upon our own Ills through false Glasses, and mistake them for something that is Good.   

LXXIV.  
It is no Consequence, that a Man is Virtuous, because we see him do virtuous Actions. We are grateful for a Kindness sometimes, only to serve ourselves; the Reputation of Gratitude and to gain an Advantage of being more boldly ungrateful for some other Favours, which we are not inclined to acknowledge.   

LXXV.  
When great Men hope to make the World believe, they have some Excellence which really they have not; it is a thing of ill Consequence to show that we suspect them. For when you destroy their hopes of passing upon the World, you at the same time destroy all their desires to do those good Actions, that are agreeable to the Virtues they would be thought to have.   

LXXVI.  
The best disposition when untaught is always blind and unsettled. A Man ought to take all imaginable care to inform himself, that his ignorance may make him neither Childishly fearful, nor Ridiculously confident.   

LXXVII.  
The mutual Society, and indeed the Friendship of most Men, is no better than a mere Trading Correspondence, kept up just as long as their own occasions make it necessary.   

LXXVIII.  
Though the generality of Friendships contracted in the World do by no means deserve the Honourable Name of Friendship; yet a Man may very well make his best of them as he sees occasion, as of a Trade that is not fixed upon any sure Fund, and where nothing is more usual, than to find ourselves cheated.   

LXXIX.  
Wheresoever Love is real, it is the governing of Passion. It perfectly forms the Soul, the Affections, and the Understanding after its own Model. It's being greater or less does not depend upon the Capacity of the Person, of whom it hath taken Possession, but upon its own Strength and Proportion; and in truth, Love seems to bear the same relation to the Person in Love, that the Soul bears to the Body animated by it.   

LXXX.  
Love hath such peculiar distinguishing Qualities, that it can neither be concealed, where it really is, nor counterfeited, where it really is not.   

LXXXI.  
All Diversions that are very Entertaining, are of dangerous consequence to Christianity; but of all that the World hath found out, none should be more cautiously used, than Plays. They give so nice, so natural a Representation of the Passions, that they really beget and inspire them, and especially that of Love, when it is described, as a modest and a virtuous Passion. For the more Innocent it appears to Innocent Persons, the more still they find themselves disposed to receive and submit to it. They fancy to themselves a Sense of Honour, and at the same time, that this is no way injured by so discreet an Affection. Thus people rise from a Play with their Hearts so full of the softnesses of Love, and their Judgements so satisfied of its Innocence, that they are in a perfect Disposition to take in its first impressions readily, or rather indeed to seek and court occasions of infecting some body else with it, that so they may receive the same Pleasures and the same Devotions which they have seen so movingly represented upon the Stage.    

Mixed Thoughts.  
PART IU.  

I.  
SElf Love, according as it is rightly or otherwise, understood and applied, is the cause of all the Moral Virtues, and Vices in the World.   

II.  
That Prudence, which is made Use of in the good management of Men's Affairs, when taken in its true Sense, is only a Wise and more Judicious Love of ourselves; and the opposite to this, is perfect Blindness and Inconsideration.   

III.  
Though it may be said with great Truth upon this Principle, that Men never act without a regard to their own Interest, yet will it be no Consequence from thence, that all they do is corrupt, and no such thing as Justice nor Honesty left in the World. Men may Govern themselves by noble Ends, and propose Interests full of Commendation and Honour. And indeed, the very thing, that Denominates any Person a Man of Justice and Honour is this just distinction of Self- Love, regulated as it ought to be. When though all things are done with respect to his own Advantage at last, yet still this is with a due Allowance and reservation to the Laws of Civil Society.   

IV.  
The Love of our Neighbour is the Wisest and most Useful good Quality in the World; It is every Whit, as necessary in Civil Societies for our happiness in the present Life, as Christianity hath made it in Order to that of the next Life.   

V.  
Honour and Disgrace, are but Empty and Imaginary things, if we take them apart from those real Advantages and Misfortunes that attend them.   

VI  
Those that give themselves a World of Trouble, and that tempt a World of Dangers, merely for the sake of trasmiting a great Name to after ages, are, in my Opinion, very Whimsical People. All this Honour and Reputation which they look upon as boundless, is yet confined within a little Room in their own Imagination. For this crowds all Posterity into one Age, by setting those Men before their Eyes as if they were all present together, which they shall never live to see nor enjoy.   

VII.  
This Maxim, That the most secret things are discovered at one time or other, is (to say the least of it) very uncertain; for we can only judge of what we do not know, by what we know already; and consequently what we do not yet know can give us no farther light into it.   

VIII.  
Nothing conduces more to the making our Life happy, than to know things as they really are; And this Wisdom must be acquired by frequent Reflections upon Men, and the Affairs of the World; for otherwise Books will contribute but little to it.   

IX.  
Almost all the miseries of Life are owing to the false Notions Men have of the World, and all that is done in it.   

X.  
True Eloquence is good Sense, delivered in a Natural, and unaffected way. That which must be set off with Tropes and Ornaments, is acceptable, only because the Generality of Men are easily imposed upon, and see things but by halves.   

XI.  
Maxims are to the Minds, just what a Staff is to the Body, when a Man cannot support himself by his own Strength. Men of sound Sense that see things in their full and just Proportions, have no need of General Observations to help them out.   

XII.  
The great Characters of being Men of Honour and Justice are very often grounded more upon Forms, and a knack of appearing to be such, than any true and solid Worth.   

XIII.  
Those that have the accomplishments Essential to the making a good Man, supposing they need no Art, neglect Formalities; Act more according to Nature, and consequently more in the Dark. For those that judge of them, have something else to do, than to examine them; and so they pronounce Sentence only according to outward appearances.   

XIV.  
No Man can be perfectly Just and Good without a great Measure of Sense and Right Reason, which will always carry him to Choose the juster side in every Action of his Life. And it is a Foolish thing to extol wicked Men, and Knaves, as the World commonly do, for Persons of Wit and Understanding. Such People have only one part of that Sound Sense; which is the reason why they are successful upon some Occasions, but imperfect and at a loss upon a Thousand others.   

XV.  
Courage in Men, and Chastity in Women, are esteemed the principal Virtues of each Sex, because they are the hardest to practise: When these Virtues want either that Constitution, or that Grace that should sustain and keep them up, they soon grow weak, and are presently sacrificed to the Love of Life and Pleasure.   

XVI.  
You shall scarce meet with a Master, but cries out, upon all Servants, that they are Rogues and the Plagues of a Family; and if Servants ever come to be Masters, they will say just the same thing. The Reason is, because generally, it is not the Qualities, but the Fortunes of Men, that makes the difference between them.   

XVII.  
People do not make it their Business to be in the right so much as to be thought so; This makes them stickle so stiffly for their own Opinions, even then when they know and are satisfied they are false.   

XVIII.  
Errors sometimes have as long a run, as the greatest Truths. Because, when these Errors are once received for Truth's Men admit whatever makes for them with an implicit Consent; and reject or overlook all that is capable of undeceiving them.   

XIX.  
Tricking and Lying are as sure Marks of a Low and Poor Spirit, as false Money is of a Poor and Low Purse.   

XX.  
When once Men, that are under a Vow of Devotion engage themselves in the Business of the World, without absolute necessity for so doing, they give us great cause to suspect the reality of their Devotion.   

XXI.  
All Devotion, which is not grounded upon Christian Humility, and the Love of our Neighbour, is no better than Form and Pretence; 'tis only the Pride and Peevishness of Philosophy, which thinks by despising the World, to revenge itself upon all the Contempt and Dissatisfactions, Men have met with from it.   

XXII.  
The Devotion of Ladies growing into Years, is frequently no better, than a little kind of Decency taken up to shelter themselves from the shame and the jest of a Fading Beauty; and to secure in every change, something that may still recommend them to the World.   

XXIII.  
Devotion is a Temper of the Mind purely Spiritual and derives itself from God. Consequently, it is a very Nice thing, and aught to be observed very narrowly, and with exceeding Caution, by those that would keep themselves from being deceived in it.   

XXIV.  
The highest Pitch of Perfection, that Men are capable of, is to be throughly acquainted with their own Weakness, their Vanity, and Misery; and the less Wit any one hath, the less he knows of these Matters.   

XXV.  
There is a sort of Ignorance, that knows nothing at all, and yet is not near so despicable, as that kind of Ignorance, which is full of Error and Impertinence, and passes upon a great many for Learning and Knowledge.   

XXVI.  
Too servile a Submission to the Books and opinions of the Ancients as if these were Eternal Truths revealed by God himself; hath spoiled many an ingenious Man, and plagued the World with abundance of Pedants.   

XXVII.  
If we set aside those Cases, in which Religion is concerned, a Man ought to measure his Studies and his Books by the Standard of his own Reason, and not enslave his Reason to his Books.   

XXVIII.  
Studious Men propose to themselves the filling their heads with Notions, that they may talk Fluently and Nicely, and be taken notice of in the World; more than their own real improvement, and better information, that they might be Qualified to make a right Judgement of things.   

XXIX.  
Such words as Sympathise, Je ne scay quoys, Occult Qualities, and a Thousand more of the same kind, have no Sense nor Signification at all. A Man is wonderfully deceived, if he Fancies himself one jot the Wiser for them. They were only found out to supply the want of Reason, and to be Used, when we would fain say something, but indeed have nothing to say.   

XXX.  
We attribute more to Reason, than is her due. She frequently Usurps what of Right belongs to our Constitution; and would have but few Advantages if she had no more than are strictly her own.   

XXXI.  
It is but very seldom, that Reason cures our Passions but one Passion is commonly cured by another. Reason indeed often strikes in with the strongest side. And there is no Passion so Extravagant, but hath its Reason ready to keep it in Countenance.   

XXXII.  
Good and Right Reason is a Light in the Mind, by which it Discerns things as they are in themselves. But in this World this Light is encompassed, and darkened by a thousand Mists and Clouds.   

XXXIII.  
Reputation would not be so highly valued, if we did but duly consider, how very unjust Men are, both in the giving and the taking of it away again. We should be sure to deserve it by doing well, and when that care is once taken, not be over anxious about the success.   

XXXIV.  
Too tender a Sense of what other People say ill of us does but entertain the Malice of the World, which desires nothing more than that it may disturb us.   

XXXV.  
The absolute want of such a Sense, so as to be moved at nothing they say, is a contrary extreme, that produces the same effect. This is such a sort of Contempt, as the World is concerned to revenge itself upon.   

XXXVI.  
There is a middle State, and a Temper to be found between these two Extremes, which inclines the World to make allowances for some Actions in one Man, which yet they condemn without any Mercy in others. This makes the mighty difference between Ladies, that yet have taken the same Liberties. So that some are run down and it is Scandalous to be seen in their Company, and others are esteemed as chaste as Nuns, and no reflections cast upon them.   

XXXVII.  
That pure Platonic Love which some Persons Fancy to themselves, is all imagination and delusion. The Body hath a greater share in this Passion, than the Mind.   

XXXVIII.  
It is no strange thing, that some Nations who wanted the Light of the Gospel should worship Love for a God: for indeed the Effects and the Resentments of it, are very odd, very extraordinary, and such as seem to exceed the Power of Nature.   

XXXIX.  
The Conversation of fine Women puts a Man's Salvation upon greater Hazard than the softest and most moving Plays. Those are the Original, these only the Image and Copy; Those kindle and inspire the Passions, these only awake and entertain them.   

XL.  
Plays and Music would have but few admirers, if one had never felt Love, nor any other Passions.   

XLI.  
It is a common thing to imagine we love a Man of great Interest and Fortune, with a very sincere Passion; But this is what we cannot be sure of till he be stripped of all the advantages of Power and Greatness. Than one quickly discerns what it was that engaged our affections. If Interest were at the Bottom of it, though Honour may keep it up for some time, yet it quickly grows weary, and lets it fall to the Ground.   

XLII.  
Gratitude is the Virtue of Wise and Generous Minds.   

XLIII.  
Ingratitude is the Fault of Fools and Clowns.   

XLIV.  
There are some sort of People, that never look into a Book, and yet with their own stock of Natural Parts, have a better Sense of things that depend upon clear and true Reason, than some great and Bookish Professors.   

XLV.  
Good Sense and Reason ought to be the Umpire of all Rules both Ancient and Modern; whatever does not agree with this Standard cannot be Sterling.   

XLVI.  
Nature was given to exercise the Philosophers, like some dark Riddle; every one makes his own Sense the Key, and out of that contrives his own System. He that by these Principles explains most difficulties, may be allowed thus far to Value himself, that he hath hit upon the most probable Opinion.   

XLVII.  
Bodily Pain is the only Evil attending humane Life that is Past the Power of Reason, either to cure, or to assuage.   

XLVIII.  
Fortune gives out the parts Men are to play upon this Stage of the World blindly, and just according to her own unaccountable Humour; This is the Reason, why there is so much ill acting; because Men very seldom hit upon those Characters that are fit for them. Or to speak in a more Christian Style, what we call Fortune, is no other than the Providence of God, which permits those disorders, for Reasons which we are not able to comprehend.   

XLIX.  
Reason and Experience ought always to go Hand in Hand in the Discovery of Nature.   

L.  
If frequent Meditations upon Death, do not make us better Men, yet methinks they should moderate our Passions however, and put some restraint upon our Avarice and Ambition.   

LI.  
Every thing in this Life is accidental, even our Birth that brings us into it, Death is the only thing we can be sure of. And yet we behave ourselves, just as if all the rest were certain, and Death alone accidental.   

LII.  
Life is good in its own Nature, the greatest good in the World, but the most unthriftily squandered away, and it is not of this, but our own Extravagance that we have reason to complain.   

LIII.  
Nothing is so hard to persuade Men to, as the Contempt of Riches, except one's arguments be drawn from the Stores of Christian Religion.   

LIV.  
The Wisemen among the Ancients were in truth very Foolish, who without any Light of Faith, or expectation of a better State, despised Riches and Pleasures: They endeavoured to distinguish themselves, by uncommon and unnatural Notions; and so to Triumph over the rest of Mankind, by an imaginary Elevation of Soul. Those that were the Wisest among them were satisfied with talking of these things in Public, but behaved themselves after another kind of Rate in Private.   

LV.  
There is a grave, contrived sort of Folly highly satisfied with itself, that carries an Air of Wisdom a Thousand times more Troublesome and Impertinent, than that Humoursome and Diverting Folly, which never thinks at all.   

LVI.  
The Contempt of certain Death, where there is no Christianity to support and justify it, does by no means deserve that Admiration or Honour that have been thought its due: In good earnest when one comes to take a closer and stricter view of it, it is rathar an Extravagance, that any greatness or constancy of Mind.   

LVII.  
The art of pleasing in Company, is not to explain things too particularly; to express only one half, and leave your Hearers to make out the rest. This argues you have a good Opinion of the Persons you converse with; and nothing is more agreeable to Men's Love of themselves.   

LVIII.  
The Ground of almost all our false reasonings, is, that we seldom look any farther, than one side of the Question. Whereas, if a Man would do his argument right, he ought to consider it in its utmost Latitude.   

LIX.  
There are so many excellencies, so many Beauties in Nature that if any be superfluous, it is not because there are too many, but because we choose, and use them ill.   

LX.  
The Circumstances of those, who are entrusted with the Treasures and the Councils of Princes, are much less fickle, than theirs that are to provide for their Diversions. Men are not always in the Humour to take their Pleasure, but they are always disposed to Honour and Riches.   

LXI.  
The highest Wisdom, is for a Man to be sensible, that he wants it.   

LXII.  
There is no such thing as true Wisdom in this World, except that which instructs us in Christian Morality. For this if we abstract from all the supports of Faith, and advantages of Religion, is of itself the most pure and perfect Rule of Life in the World.   

LXIII.  
The Vulgar value and cry up Actions and other Things, not only for their excellence, but more Generally for the uncommonness of them; and this gives occasion to all the false Methods Men take to gain the Approbation of the World.   

LXIV.  
The Court is the Peculiar where Ambition is Supreme. All other Passions even Love itself, and all Laws Truckle under her; and there are no sorts of Unions but she can both knit Together, and break asunder.   

LXV.  
Ambitious Men cheat themselves, when they fix upon any Ends for their Ambition, those Ends, when they are attained to, are converted into means, subordinate to something farther.   

LXVI.  
A Good Character, in which all the World agrees, and which continues a great while is seldom False.   

LXVII.  
The Opinion of those Philosophers, that will have Beasts to be in no Degree more than Machine's, which move themselves, is exceeding hard to conceive; but that of some other Philosophers, who assign them a Soul that is Corporeal, and yet not a Body neither, is altogether incomprehensible.   

LXVIII.  
A great Reputation is a great Charge very hard for a Man to acquit himself well of; an obscure Life is more Natural, and more Easy.   

LXIX.  
Diogenes, that made Choice of a Tub for his dwelling, was a Fool, but so much the more exquisite and refined, as he thought himself, and expected the World should Esteem him so much Wiser than the rest of Mankind.   

LXX.  
Great Offices and great Honours are most truly said to be great Burdens; their Slavery of them is but so much the greater, because it concerns the Service of the Public, and the People are a Master scarce ever to be satisfied.   

LXXI.  
They that are Eternally canting upon Virtue in all Companies, are commonly great Boasters, and great Knaves. The mighty pains which the Men of the Age take to commend Virtue, is sometimes a shrewd sign, that they take but very little to practise it.   

LXXII.  
Truth discovers itself to young Princes, no longer than while they are Young, and under Age. It flies a Crown, and vanishes out of Sight, as soon as they come to be invested with Power. If these first Years be not made Use of to give them good Advice and Instruction, there will be no retrieving it in the following part of their Lives. For all than goes off in mere Juggle and Disguise.   

LXXIII.  
The perfect Knowledge a Man hath of his Misery and Imperfections gives a great and just occasion for Humility towards God; but so it does also for the despising of others, who are not so Wise as ourselves.   

LXXIV.  
Raillery is harder to be born than Injuries, because it is an allowable thing to be concerned at Injuries, but a ridiculous one to be angry at a Jest.   

LXXV.  
Raillery is an Injury disguised full of Malice an Ill-nature, which is endured with so much less parience, as it shows, that they who use it, would be thought above us.   

LXXVI.  
Princes and Persons in Eminent Stations will do well to be exceeding reserved, as to this part of Conversation. The resentments of Their raillery are the more Dangerous, because kept more concealed, and that Men are ever contriving some private ways of Revenge for it.   

LXXVII.  
Raillery very often betrays want of Wit: Men call it in to their Relief, when they have nothing of Sense and Argument left, to say for themselves.   

LXXVIII.  
A great many People are fond of Books as they are of Furniture; to dress and set off their Rooms more than to adorn and enrich their Minds.   

LXXIX.  
'Tis the Infatuation of Misers to take Gold and Silver for things really Good, whereas they are only some of the means by which good things are procured.   

LXXX.  
Some People are so fond of being Subtle and Abstruse upon all Occasions, that they really overshoot the Mark. These refined Persons are as far from Truth, as the Vulgar, whose gross Ignorance makes them fall short of it.   

LXXXI.  
Truth is Plain and Natural, the great Secret is only how to find it.   

LXXXII.  
The great mistake of most Noblemen, is, that they look upon their Nobility, as a Character given them by Nature.   

LXXXIII.  
True Quality and that which comes by Nature is only the Noble Advantages and Endowments of the Body and the Mind.   

LXXXIV.  
The more Ancient that Nobility is, which we Derive from our Ancestors, the less Valuable it is, the more Suspicious and Uncertain. The Son of a Marshal of France, who by his own Worth hath raised himself to this Office, should in all reason be more Noble, than the Posterity that descend from Him. This Spring of Honour is yet fresh in the Son's Veins, and kept up by the Example of the Father; but the further it runs from the Fountain Head, the Weaker, and the Dryer it grows.   

LXXXV.  
We are sursprised every day to see some Men that are come from the very Dregs of the People, raise themselves to great Fortunes and Honours; and we commonly mention this with Scorn and Reproach; as if all the Great Families in the World had not as Mean a beginning, if we would but take pains to Trace them back to their first Originals.   

LXXXVI.  
The greatest part of those Complaints we make against our Neighbours are owing to the want of Reflections upon ourselves.   

LXXXVII.  
The Love of ourselves inclines us to look upon all the Pleasures, and Happinesses of Life, as things that we have a Right to call Ours; and upon all the Evils and Calamities, as things Foreign and Unnatural, and such as are Wrongs and Hardships upon us. This gives the occasion to all the Complaints we hear against Humane Life.   

LXXXVIII.  
Most Heroes are like some kind of Pictures, which if you would admire you must look upon them at a distance.   

LXXXIX.  
True and essential merit, is that of the good Accomplishments of the Mind; but the Art of making these Valuable, and Exerting those good Faculties is a second Merit: and much more necessary than the first, in all business of the World, both in Order to the raising our Reputation, and our Fortunes.   

XC.  
Many things are Valued, merely because they are uncommon, or hard to be come by, though in Truth and in their own Nature, they are neither amiable, nor useful.   

XCI.  
Every one Erects a Court of Judicature for himself. There he sits Supreme Judge over his Neighbour, and proceeds upon him in as Arbitrary and Authoritative a manner, as if he had some particular Prerogative over him. But methinks, we should be more modest and sparing in passing Sentence thus upon others; if we did but consider that they too will take the same Freedoms, and use us with the same Severity.   
FINIS.