THE DIVINE EPICURUS, OR, The Empire of PLEASURE OVERDO THE VIRTUES.  
COMPOSED By that Most Renowned PHILOSOPHER,  
Mr. A. Le GRAND;  
AND Rendered into English by Edward Cook Esq  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Isocrates in Nicocle. 
LONDON, Printed by H. Bruges for M. Widows at the Green-Dragon in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1676.   

Licenced  
November the 29th. 1675. ROGER L'ESTRANGE.   

TO ROBERT COKE OF NORFOLK, Esq A Member ●o the Honourable House of COMMONS.  
SIR,  
BEing sensible how prevalent the Censures of Envy and ill Nature are almost over every thing that once becomes public, I thought it my prudent'st Course before hand to provide myself such a shelter, as might, if not wholly keep off the effects of their Malice, at least render them little prejudicial to me.  
Immediately therefore I was carried away by a force of Nature impossible to be resisted, to beg leave that I might have your Protection for my Sanctuary, being very well assured your Name is Amulet enough against all the despiteful outrages of perverse dispositions.  
And indeed to whom could I with more reason Dedicate a Book composed by that Famous Philosopher Mr. Anthony Le Grand, and consequently of a most Elevated dignity, then to yourself, who not only most delights in the virtues of it, but at large possesses them.  
Persons of your Quality, Sir, can very seldom fix their virtue, and make it regular; the impetuous tumults of a giddy world are so violent upon their senses, that they are quickly Hurricaned out of course by them: but the Debauches of an Impious and degenerate Age have no influence upon your steady mind; You enjoy an undisturbed composure, notwithstanding all the Attacques of others to divert the Channel, and are not like those bodies, whose Complexions follow the nature of their Climates; for you live in the continual exercise of virtuous Actions, amidst those who make it the chiefest of their practice to stifle and oppress them.  
As Heaven has been very prodigal of its bounties to You, it has likewise instructed You how to enjoy them; and You do it in so noble, generous, and exalted a manner, that all Mankind who have heard of Your fame, are forced to acknowledge You best deserve them: and instead of envying your affluence, they have more reason to wish that You may daily meet with new Accessions.  
Your Greatness has not the power to make You superciliously haughty; you receive all addresses with such a familiarity and easiness of Nature, that plainly shows 'tis Virtue only magnifies you: and the qualities you have made natural to you are so excelling, that as evil men can find nothing in them to malign, so good men cannot see any thing but what they admire and dote upon.  
Let me then in all humility implore your Patronage of what is so much your own: there's none will doubt the value of any thing which shall have the happiness of pleasing You: and in it I shall not only have my greatest security, but shall find also my extremest Obligations to be all my life,  
SIR, Your most Devoted, most Humble, and most Obedient Servant, EDWARD COOK.   

THE DIVINE EPICURUS, Or the Empire of PLEASURE Over the VIRTUES.  

The first Treatise: of Pleasure.  

The first discourse. 
Sapientes pacis causâ bellum gerunt, & laborem spe otij tolerant.   
The Opinion of Epicurus concerning PLEASURE.  
PEace, 
Clemens Alex and strom. 2d.  when considered as the Reward of War, which returns with Usury the pains and toil of Conquerors, is the desire of all Soverains: even the most Barbarous as well as Civilised people give honour to her, and none will refuse her Entertainment in their Kingdoms, but who are reputed Savage, yea the very Antipodes and opposites of Nature.  
No Nation whatsoever will proclaim a War, but they propose her to themselves before any Engagement with their Enemies, whose promising results are so large and considerable, that they never scruple the hazarding whole States and Kingdoms for her acquest. 'Tis true, there is no affinity betwixt a quiet Repose, and a troublesome and bloody Battle, nor is it imaginable, that a Man should have thoughts of Peace at the very time he is Sacking of Towns, dispeopling Provinces, committing Murders, and laying all places in Ruin and Desolation through which he passes. Yet is this the language of all Soverains, who say they never begin a War, but upon the presumption and hopes of Peace, nor do they ever labour the subduction of their Enemies, but that their first amity and alliance may be more strongly renewed.  
What Peace is in the Politic, 
Voluptas in omnibus nobis in●levit, & circa volupt●●es & d●lores totum n●gotium 〈◊〉 & civilis versabitur. A●ist. Mor. Nicom. Lib. 2. cap 3.  that is Voluptie or Pleasure in the moral; she is the end of all humane actions, and when Philosophers do engage against Vice, making use of Virtue to combat with it, they propose not to themselves any other happiness than its Enjoyment: they account the difficulties of Virtue delightful, because of the pleasure she promises to them, the hopes of which cause all their resolutions and fidelity, and questionless they would be disengaged from the cares and troubles of being possessed with her, were they not transported with her charms and delicacies. Epicurus, who has openly declared himself as well the defender as lover of Pleasure, never had a thought to be injurious unto Virtue, when he presented her with it for a companion or a Mrs. For as he observed all our Actions inclined to Pleasure, that we had a natural aversion to grief and vexation, that the former concluded our desires, the latter opposed them; he was persuaded that Pleasure was our chief felicity, that we might enjoy it in Nature, and that it was an Innocent aspiring to the condition of the gods, to share with them in a quality which made them happy  
His Enemies, who either have not had a right conception of his thoughts, or have dissembled and put a false gloss upon his designs, on purpose to serve for an occasion to oppose them, have imagined that he has sided with the Body against the Mind, that he has established his felicity in the sense, and as if he had rejected the Immortality of the Soul, he had jumbled together in a mixed confusion the pleasures of mankind with those of the most infamous beasts. From which surmise have proceeded so many bitter invectives against Voluptie, that even all their writings are stuffed with his disorders, and that calling of it sometimes the pest of Mankind, anon the destroyer and Enemy of Reason, they have caused the greatest part of the Philosophers to have a nauseating and horror for it. I acknowledge, that that which only respects the body, and concludes all its dominion in the sense, is dangerous unto Man, often debauching his Reason, abating his Courage, darkening his Judgement, and making Virtue to be of no value in his breast, when that before hand is possessed of the chair. If some Philosophers may be credited, it is the cause of all disorders in the world, and is no less the destruction of whole Estates, than it is the Ruin of particular Families. 'Tis she has so often mingled the poison with the drink, made Subjects Rebels, caused Soldiers to keep secret correspondencies with their Enemies, and obliged children to give death to those from whom they themselves have received life. In short, Voluptie belies its name, since it never affords us true and real Pleasures, but hurts us in its flatteries, makes Martyrs of its slaves, and indeed bestows nothing less upon its votaries, than what it makes them hope for.  
I should be ashamed to defend the Opinion of Epicurus, did I seriously think it was the protector of so infamous a felicity, and that the Original of all its good things had their source from all our evil ones. But his Philosophy to me seems too rational to approve of such extravagancies, and he hath sentiments too Noble to authorise in public that which the most impudent and shameless themselves condemn in secret. Those, who will take the pains accurately to consider and weigh his Writings and narrowly search into his thoughts, may observe that he had no other intention, when he spoke so to the advantage of Pleasure, then to make his wise man happy, to lose his body from griefs and troubles, to fill up his mind with delight, and to render them both equally satisfied. Those who have thought otherwise, have scandalised his innocence, and can find no other ways to please his disciples, then in the publication of their malice or their ignorance. For what Stoic is there that does not desire to be exempted from cares and troubles? and what Philosopher thinks himself unhappy, because he enjoys a perfect health, sees his mind free from sorrows, and distempers at a good remove from all the parts of his body? what favourable opinion soever we receive of the merits of Virtue, yet would she be but little grateful to us, if always she appeared perverse and froward, only giving us an entertainment of her miseries, without ever rendering the enjoyment of her, pleasant and agreeable. She ought to make a discovery of her Charms, as well as Beauty, to oblige us to be in love with her, and to promise us full contentment and satisfaction, to engage our affections to an earnest pursuance of her.  
Though Good be the Object we are naturally most inclined to, 
Bonum nisi etiam delecter, non suscipitur. August. li de Spir. & litt●ra. cap. 3.  yet it never attracts our affections, but when it discovers unto us something particular of Beauty in it; and we look upon it as an indifferent thing all the while that it does not appear to us pleasant and agreeable, as well as Profitable, and of Advantage. This is the common Sentiment of all Men, and it is sufficient only to consult our own Inclinations to be persuaded of this truth.  
Now if this desire be Just, and it be permitted us to follow it, Since it is natural, why should Epicurus be condemned because he has advanced the glory of Pleasure, by the fastening it unto Virtue, and by rendering this Noble Habitude agreeable to procure her Admirers? If there be such ill persons in the world that make an ill use of her, and who leave the Mistress to pay their Courtships to the Waiting-Gentlewoman; this Mischief ought to be attributed to their disorderly temper, and should be no more wondered at, then to see Impious Men profane Sacred things, and Mercenary ones quit their adored Divinity, wholly to be taken up in her favours.  
There can be nothing more rational, 
Inclinavi cor meum ad faciendas justificationes tuas in aeternum propter retributionem. Psal. 118.  than the Passion and Love of Saints, who love the Almighty from the bottom of their hearts, who seek Him in their actions, who suffer all things for his love, and never do esteem themselves happier, than when they may testify to him their affections by their suffering. Yet it is permitted for these Jealous ones of their Master's glory, to consider the happiness that they wait for, to love under the hopes of Recompense, and regard the Laurels that must one day crown their Labours. This Mighty King, in whose Person both Valour and Piety are united, and who has as much Signalised himself by his Devotion, as his Victories; Professes loudly that he looks for the Reward of his Justice, that his hope begins and ends all his Actions, 
De torrente voluptatis ●otabis eos. Psal. 36.  and that he is never more animated to the Practice of Virtues, then when he sets before him that pleasure which must render him for ever glorious in Immortality.  
After this allowance, we cannot blame the Followers of Epicurus, but we must do an outrage to the innocence of the Saints, and make these unjust, as we would condemn the former as guilty. Both of them aspire after Pleasure, and look upon Virtue as the mean to arrive to it, and to have a different Faith, makes them not contented with the same aims and designs. If the Stoics have cried them down, and condemned their Doctrine in all their Works; we must attribute this Judgement to the severity of their Sect, who acknowledging no other felicities than those of Virtue, reject all things that may make it in the least suspicious. Though the Philosophy is more pompous, 'tis not therefore the more Plausible, and it would be easy for me to reject their Maxims, had I not been on their side in my Book Entitled The Man without Passions; and if I had not discovered according to their Sentiments, that the advantages of the Soul make all its grandeurs, that others are strangers to it, and that to render a wise Man perfect, it is but necessary to render him virtuous.  
But to make an Accommodation betwixt these Enemies, and cause them to enter into a good understanding and intelligence, we must acknowledge that their aims are at one and the same end, and both are Rivals to the same Mistress, though indeed it is under different Pretexts. The Stoics regard Virtue as an honest good, and the Epicureans as a Delectable; Those content themselves with possession of Beauty, these latter are taken up in the pleasures she creates in the hearts of those that are her Captives.   

The Second Discourse;  
That Voluptie or Pleasure is Natural to Man.  
NAture is so prudent in her Conduct, and so regular in all her Works, that we cannot be beside the cushion in our pursuit after her; She is the guide of the Universe, the Sovereign of Creatures, and the invisible Light that superintends all our Actions. All Philosophers approve her Inclinations, and as they are assured that she derives her Origine from Heaven itself, without any difficulty in the case, they make choice of her for their Mistress. All who observe her Laws are accounted happy by them, her hatred and her love excite all their passions, and they do not shun Evil, and embrace Good, but because She has inspired them with an Aversion for the one, and a ready Complacence for the other. Epicurus, who is rendered Famous in his School, by making a narrow Scrutiny into all her Secrets in his Remarks upon her Movements; has obliged us to revere Volupty, because she is 
* Natures.  her Glory, and that this Interessed Mother makes a general communication of it to all her Children. In short, all Animals are capacitated for it, they seek it as soon as they do come into the world, and by their Industry after it, they make a public indication how much they are inclined to her. The little Infants that are hanging at their Mother's Breasts, and whose reason as yet lies buried in the Flesh, are fearful of Grief, and in love with Pleasure, bemoan themselves when the former touches them, and are in an Expansion of Joy, when the other gives a flattery to their Senses. When a more ripened age has refined their faculties, and the objects they entertain themselves with, have discovered to them their Beauties, their thoughts are wholly busied after their Prosecution, their reason contrives ways how to acquire them, and following the instinct of Nature, they do what they can to satisfy their desires and give their mind's contentment.  
The Poets, imitating the Oracles by their frequent hitting upon truths in their Verses, have feigned that Orpheus drew Beasts to him through the sweetness of his voice, that those who shunned the sight of men were easily brought over by his elevations and cadences, that their wild and savage dispositions was forgotten by his melody, and that by this kind of mirth and pleasure he made those creatures become familiar which he could no ways reclaim by his address. The Politicians, acknowledging this secret, and Learning by experience the efficacy and power of Pleasure, have made use of it in all their designs; by it they have kept the people in Obedience, put a stop to Rebellion in States and Kingdom, and have kept off those dangers that have threatened Ruin. The Republic of Athens owes its conservation to the divertisments of her Poets, and their plays have won them over more subjects, than the happiness and success of their Arms. For combating with the people's passions, they have prettily stolen into their mind's duty with Pleasure, the same scenes which have diverted them, have taught them virtue, and they have carried away that from the Theatre, which they could never get from Philosophy.  
The Lawyers, 
Qui jura●vit cum muliere contrahere, potest eam r●pellere propter sup●●v●nientem de●ormitatem cap. quemadmodum de jurejur.  who are so expert in their decisions, and aught to know the properties of every thing to determine our differences, accord with the sentiments of nature, in saying that Man is always inclined to Pleasure, that the privation of it is sufficient to cause him to break his promises, and that he may permissively fail in his word to a young Lady, when sickness has spoiled the body, and left a visible deformity upon the face. It seems a shock to the inclinations of this common Parent, that a man should be obliged to marry her who ceases to be delightful to him, and that she should unjustly exact the continuation of his love, when she has lost that attraction which begat it in him.  
Almighty God, who prescribes an end in all his Actions, and who often makes known his designs by those circumstances that are attended upon them, has given us this assurance, that Pleasure to a Man is natural, since he created him in a place of Delicacies, and afforded him a Paradise for his first Habitation. If we may credit the ancient Fathers in their Descriptions of it, the Earth did never bring forth any thing more beautiful, since all things that was there placed conspired to his felicity. 'Twas the very Mansion-house of all imaginable Charms, the retreat in which all Happiness was circumscribed, and the enchanted Castle of the Poets. The Fountains that gently fell from the small declining Hills, the Streams which made their intricate but pretty meanders over the flourishing Meadows charmed his ears with the delightful and purling noise of their Waters, the Trees did charge themselves with Fruits for the pleasing of his taste, all things he could look upon ravished his sight, the Beasts were no less his Domestiques then his Slaves; and as the former was the agreeable supporters of his life, so these respected his orders, and showed their Obedience to his commands. All the Seasons were in a delicate confusion with the Spring, the Cold did never freeze up his members, the Sun warmed, but had no power to burn him, and the Stars were to surround him with their most Benign influences. 
Delectatio est mensura bonitatis actionis, quia illi●s sinis est, i● quo quiescit. S. Tho. 2. 2. q 30.  The Earth, from whose bosom He received his being, gave him a share of all her Treasures, She covered herself with Flowers to be a delight to him, and in her Verdant and Forest Tapestry, invited him to his repose, and if at any time she took away any of her Beauties, it was only to present him with a greater variety far more agreeble. In a word, Pleasure and Man are born together, it is the end of all his Operations, and he may be said to have obtained it, when once he comes to enjoy it.  
It would be needless for me to make use of other Arguments to enforce this truth, and as it would be to no purpose to prove the fire heats, the Earth is heavy, and all the Stars are encircled with light; so it shall suffice me to say that Pleasure is common to all creatures, that Man seeks it as his happiness, that Nature diffused it in all her parts, and that God himself did give him his creation in an Earthly Paradise, for his assurance that it was natural to him.  
But as no Maxim is so solid as not to meet with its adversaries, and that even those themselves who love the truth, yet do sometimes persecute it; they give out that this Sentiment is an enemy to Virtue, that it shocks Modesty, and is not to be defended without bringing Confusion into the World. For if Volupty be natural to us, and if we are permitted to follow its motions, who will not presently cry out, and think that we may lawfully commit Whoredoms, without any punishment carry away our Neighbour's Wives, and make Marriages the occasion of our Libertinage and Sensuality. This Objection, he, that speaks much to, will be Impertinent to very little purpose; Nature does not oppose herself to the Laws of God, she abhors whatever he forbids, and as all her Light springs from him, she adores his Will, and observes his Ordinances. All that displeases him, is an offence to her; and He has never yet forbid any thing, which she has not inspired into us an horror for, and aversion to do it. Does He detest the Adulterer, She looks upon him as a Monster, and gives all the Nations in the world an abhorrence of him. If he makes Pleasures unlawful, She condemns them likewise; She persuades all her Children to fly from them, and as she is Obedient, she observes all the commands of her Sovereign.   

The third Discourse.  
That Good, Honest, and Profitable, is inseparable from Pleasure.  
AS Qualities have their Oppositions, so have they likewise their Resemblances; Logic, which separates their properties, can never divide their Essence, and they agree in Unity, although they are composed of different Species. The Mystery of the Trinity which Astonishes all Theology, and has made all Ages sweat about the discovery of it, concludes in one and the same nature a Plurality of Persons; the Father is not the Son, and the Holy Spirit is different from them both. As they make divers species, their proprieties do no whit agree together, the Passive Generation cannot be attributed to the Father, nor the procession to the Son, without confounding the power of the Father, the wisdom of the Word, and the love of the Holy Spirit. Yet notwithstanding, they are all Three reconciled in one and the same Divinity, and the diversity of their Persons is no hindrance at all to the unity of their Nature.  
What appears so difficult to the conception in Theology, seems evident in the Moral. The Good that is the object of it, and which makes the Glory of all its instructions, is expanded in all its branches, its Division stands not in opposition to its Unity, and if it makes use of different Names, it neither changes Quality or Condition. 
Henestum cum utili convenit, atque jucundo in rebus, quae post earum absolutam acquisitionem jam possidetur. Leo Heb. de Amore. dial. 2.  It is every way agreeable, the Pleasure makes its principal difference, and it never does attract the Mind, before it has stirred it up by its surprising Charms. Utility which is as the soul of Politicians, appears always under its habits, and Philosophers are not such courtiers of Honesty, but that they hope from it to receive Satisfaction. But the better to mix this confusion, we must observe that the Desire is continually under disquietudes, that its violence keeps us in suspense, and its Languishing does often equal the vigour of the most rigorous Distempers. For it is as Shamefaced, as it is Cruel, and we ought to confess our Miseries, as ofttimes as we make any Wishes. Nothing, but their accomplishment, can afford us satisfaction, and put us into a Sedate and quiet temper. Indeed we swim in Pleasure, when our desires change into Effects, when we possess whatsoever we did propose for our Content, and when we see our Fears vanished, and our Hopes established. But this Joy is of no longer a continuance, then whilst we are engaged in the search of a Good; It lessens itself by its possession, and we cease to be satisfied and contented, as soon as we see our greedy desires in repose, and our ambitions have their satisfaction. He, who to secure himself from Poverty, passes the Seas, despises dangers, finds out Lands Incognito with the hazard both of his Safety and his Life, and all to get him Riches, is no longer affected with the pleasure of them, then whilst he is heaping them up, and as the profitable Gain does charm his Travels, so is his delight of them lost and gone, as soon as they are lo●k'd up in his Coffers. He languishes after the Treasures he has not, and disregards what are in his own possession, and only those good things which he hopes for can give his Thoughts contentment. The Ambitious Man is as much unhappy as him that is Covetous; for when he is sweeting with the pains he takes to get himself Honours, employing the credit of his Friend's hat so he may come to be above them, and often taking on him an undecent humility, that at last he may arrive at some Eminency in the World, the Glory only then appears delightful to him, when he beholds it as the recompense of all his Labours and Humiliations. But no sooner are his desires accomplished, and he has made his Inferiors of his Equals, but he languishes in the midst of his Honours, he only regards those that are yet wanting to him, and being pushed on by the inquietude of his desires, he does acknowledge no other happiness, then that which promises him the Dignity and Preferment he earnestly thirsts for. What is the joy of a Philosopher, when he is become conqueror of his Passions, and master of those slaves that would oppress his Liberty? he does no violence to himself but such as gives him Pleasure, all his pains are agreeable to him, and he reckons all his Combats happy ones, since they lead him unto Victory. But has he excluded Vice from his breast, is the object of his affection become that of his hate, and has he subjected that which before did Tyrannize over him? His virtue is forsaking him, his pleasures dwindle, and he must combat with new Difficulties, if he would procure to himself Delights.  
This Principle granted, it is no hard task to prove that honesty and Profit are in affinity with Pleasure, and it is only she that engages us in their pursuit. For the profitable good is not disireable only for its self sake, since that the possession of it is Sterile, and gives no satisfaction to those who are once made masters of it. It must be Pleasure that moves them to it, representing it under a form that is agreeable, and appearing beautiful as well as profitable, to make one be in love with it. Eating, which is so necessary to Man, is ever followed with pleasure, and I doubt whether we should be at the trouble of self-preservation if we were not invited to it by the contentment, as well as by the necessity. Riches, which are made the Divinities of the world, and which most Men idolise, would be in little esteem amongst us, if they did not discover the pleasures they give to those that have them, aye● and flatter them with an assured Felicity. For they display all that possibly can make them divertive; they show them stately Structures, rich Habits, Tables spread with all the varieties capable to please their Taste, advantageous Marriages, and a vast retinue of Servants, who attend their Persons, and observe their Commands. All this Pompous Gaiety ravishes their Affections, and makes them without any Difficulty, consecreate their cares and diligence in the Acquest of those goods which promises them so many advantages.  
'Tis true, the seeking of that good, we call Honest, is more pure, it is not beholding to strange ●avors to satisfy its Lovers, and it is to do an injury to its Merit, to desire any thing above its self. But yet it ceases not to have its Charms, as well as Profit, it is the Glory as well as the Ornament of those who possess it, all Mankind has a Reverence for it, and as it has the Wicked for its admires, so all good Men too load it with their Panegyrics. Honour is its Appanage and portion, all persons that regard it, give it their praises, and those spectators must become enemies to it, that can refuse it this recompense. Knowledge, which is one part of it, does it not create a abundance of delight and pleasure in the Learned? And can they mount up into the Heavens, make a discovery of the Stars, sound Nature, and penetrate into the Abysms of the Earth, without a transport? As she is the light of our Understanding, she with it infuses joy into our Souls, exalts us above ourselves, and without ever changing our condition, the seems to make us pass out of darkness into light, from a Prison unto Freedom, and from Death to Life. None, but those who are ignorant, can question this truth, and who having never been exempted from the phlegmy conceits of their dull and gross bodies, are not sensible of its Sweetness and Delight.   

The Fourth Discourse.  
That Pleasure is the soul of Moral Virtues.  
NOthing is so great a Scandal to the Stoics, as the low and petty Rate that is put upon Virtue, they look upon all those little less than Sacrilegious, that do dishonour her, and never think any punishment too rigorous to chastise their Insolence. As they are enamoured with her Love, they call her the Divinity of the Earth, they make her the Standard of all their Noble Actions, and they wish Monarches would as well rely upon her conduct, as the meanest of their Subjects. Epicurus, who is just of an opposite Sentiment, and who has given Pleasure the preference to Virtue, is reckoned among them no better than a Monster; they have thought a Man must quit his reason to side against her, and prostrate a Sovereign unto Her whom she disdained to accept of for a Slave. But without doubt those Philosophers are too severe in their condemnation, which makes me think they have not sufficiently conceived the meaning of their Adversary, in that they have charged him with so many Reproaches. For did they take the pains to examine Sovereign Good in its nature, they would find themselves in no disagreement at all with him, they seek that in effect which they blame in Appearance, and are no otherwise enemies to him, but in their way of expression. For if they affirm that Virtue is contented with her own perfections, that she despises all advantages that are foreign to her, and only to be possessed of her, is sufficient to make one live happy in the world. The Epicureans likewise will yield this Glory to her, and make their protestations, that they look upon her as the most profitable of all good things. 
Vi tus 〈…〉. Ci●.  But they will never acknowledge, her to be Man's felicity, since she only conducts him to it, and never makes herself desirable, but for the love of that pleasure which she promises. For that happy life which they would have begin from an enjoyment of her, is nothing but the pleasure which they establish, and which, separating the means from the end that leads to it, they are obliged to prefen● to Virtue.  
Indeed Pleasure seems Natural to the Virtues, the most severe of them do seek her, as well as the most diver●ive, and though their contentment is more reserved and hid, it is no whit the less true and real. As she is the chief and peculiar good of Man, clearing up his reason, and fortifying his will, she very agreeably slides into his soul, and if she sometimes amazes her Spectators▪ she still affords her admirers most plentiful Delights and Satisfaction. Those Heroes, who make Fortune their diversion, and laugh at it, contemning her power, and with an equal unconcern beholding her favours and affronts, have done well to acknowledge that there is a certain pleasure in the Virtue that charms them, since they prefer its injoynments to Riches and Honours: accounting themselves happy in their poverty, and extracting Glory from that which makes others Miserable. That Philosopher, who has made himself Tamous in History in his choice of a Tub for his Mansion house, and so as it were to bury himself alive in the midst of Athens, speaks but the satisfactions that he there received, 
Ipsum Diag●a●m quid iliud quam voluptas coniecit nam licet 〈◊〉 & 〈…〉 Tyr. Max.  and though he was deprived of all things, he did not forbear disputing his Felicity with the most pompous and lofty Sovereigns. His abode was more pleasant to him, than their Palace, he considered it as a Temple from whence he deliv●red his Oracles. and depising the Ornaments of rooms of Entertainment, he looked upon his own as very well accommodated, since it had virtue for its Hostess, the Water that quenched his thirst, and the dry parched Bread that satisfied his hunger, he thought, need give no place to to their Delicacies, and as they did purely satisfy Nature, they left no disgusts which are the usual punishments of their extravagant seeding. He got the conquest of all the passions that insulted o'er Kings; Fear and Grief were banished from his soul, and while these lament the loss of Battles, and afflict themselves with the revolt of their subjects, and groan under the weight of their Diadems, he enjoyed a sweet Repose, and lived in a profound and undisturbed Tranquillity. If he shunned the Courts of Princes, it was because he knew the troublesome cumber and distraction of them; if he refused public Dignities, it was because he counted them as specious Servitudes; and if he preferred the caelibate life to Marriage, it was because the name of Xanthippe was odious to him, and that he looked upon the society of Women as such, who would always be commanding, though they were born to obey. In short, this Philosopher enjoyed a perfect freedom: his miseries were only in appearance, and contemning the grandeurs of the World, he could boast in this of being the most happy Man amongst all the Philosophers, and the most puissant of all Kings.  
If Pleasure has triumphed over Poverty in the person of Diogenes, if its sweetness has overcome its cruelty, and has put an agreeableness into the most incompliant and unwelcome of all virtues; it has no less Empire over the rest of her companions. Those that seem to be the most disinteressed, do propound her to themselves i● all their erterprises, and though they would be tho●ght to shun her, yet they take their measures by her movements. Friendship, which derives all her Glory from the sincerity of her Affections, has yet a passionate earnestness for her, it loves it in the object it reveres, its presence contributes to her happiness, and she never makes her approaches to it, but to receive from thence satisfaction.  
There is nothing more pure than the virtue of the Ancients, who have exposed themselves to dangers, not valuing their lives, but choosing an inevitable death to preserve their Countries from those mischiefs which have threatened them. It seems those generous Spirits had no other Sentiments than those of Honour, they had only a regard to Virtue, when they made themselves Victims to her. Notwithstanding we may say that Pleasure was the life and soul of all their actions, they stirred not but as she did move them, and though they sought out miseries, they were not less the Slaves of Pleasure. They imagined that Posterity would give them Eulogies, that their Children would become the people's love, Histories would publish their Valour, their Statues would be Ornaments and Decorations of public places, and all Mouths expanded in the celebration of their Names, and all Pens employed in relating their Merits. Death, which is so terrible to the Cowardly did appear to them but a petty Evil in comparison of the honours they promised to themselves; and as they were animated by the desire of Glory, they only considered the Immortality that would crown their actions.  
Justice, which pleases itself with Rigour, and most of her time is taken up in the chastisements of Criminals, has not any Sentiments more pure and re●in'd. When a Father is enraged against his Son, and favours his Accusers, and becomes his persecuter as well as his Judge, making his natural affection give place to that of his country, and condemns him to a shameful death; one may well say he is enraged with himself, he punishes himself in the person of this Mallefactor, and he feels by Anticipation, those torments that should put an end to his life. For who can imagine that a separation so sensible, and touching, should be accompanied with contentment, and that any Man who has a Love for his Children, can become their Parricide with satisfaction. Yet we may be assured that he receives joy from it, that by taking away his Son's life, he renders himself famous in the World, that by this Rigour he acquires to himself the title of Just, that he has rid himself of a person that would have blemished his Reputation, and whose crime would have been an eternal Blurr upon his Family, had he not washed it away in his blood. As his interests are fastened to those of the public, and none can attack his Country, without entrenching upon his liberty; he studies its conservation in that of his Nations, he is satisfied that the one cannot be destroyed, but the other must lie grovelling under its Ruins, and that all those are his Enemies, who have a design at her overthrow.  
What has been said of Poverty, Force, and Justice, might with much more ease be attributed to the other Virtues, since they do more agreeably insinuate themselves into our breasts, without opposing the inclinations of Nature, to make themselves Masters of it.  
There is but therefore one difficulty behind to be removed upon this Subject, to clear up Epicurus, and to justify him against the reproaches of his Adversaries. If that Pleasure be so linked to Virtue, that she and it are inseparable, why does she oppose it, and declare herself its Enemy wherever she meets it? Temperance keeps her in awe and subjection, and will not suffer her to make any Sallies, and as if she was the shame of Nature, she condemns all her escapes and extravagances. Prudence blames the use of her, and discovering what disorders she causes in her Slaves, obliges us to shun all her approaches. This Objection stands in need but of a slight Answer; in saying, that Virtue does not reject all manner of Pleasures, but if she condemns those that are Infamous and Criminal, she permits on the other hand, all those that are Natural and innocent. She allows the temperate Man to take delight in his Sobriety, the Judge, to be pleased in the equity of his Decrees, the Philosopher, to extract his joy from the conquest he gets over his Passions, and the politic Statesman to hug himself in the happiness that favours his Designs, when he sees his desires accomplished. Evil is not always the object of our Hatred, and if it afflicts us when we feel its first assault, we are well pleased when we behold it flying away from us, and Discomfitted.    

The Second TREATISE Of Moral VIRTUES.  

The First Discourse.  
Of the nature of PRUDENCE.  
NO part in Man's body is acknowledged so useful, as that of the Sight, 'tis the Noblest of all the Senses, the Theatre of the Soul, the Inspiration of Passions, and the Instrument to instruct and help us in the discovery of all Arts and Sciences. Astrology, which despises the beauteous glories of the Earth, to take her full Contemplation of those higher ones of the Stars, and which infers so often from their Motions, the Symptoms of our Distempers, would have been unknown in the World, if the Sight had not given it its Birth and Origine, and if she had not discovered to her, all those Pompous principles from whence she draws her conclusions. The Eye which is the Organ of it, is a contraction of Miracles, and if we will give any Credit to the Anatomists, Nature never made any thing so full of Delicacy and Magnificence. 'Tis placed in the Head as in a Throne, its Palace is environed with Glass and Crystal, and the Water there, is so curiously mingled with the Fire, that its light is conserved in it without losing any thing of its substance. Nature, which knows the value and worth of all her works, has ordered all the members that are neighbours to it, to serve as Guards and bars, the Dust falls downwards to secure it from danger, the Eyebrows stand up for its defence, and the Tunicks are hardened that they might withstand the often changes of the Air, as well as the violence of Heat. But admit, the Sight should not have all these advantages, it would be sufficiently considerable in its discoveries of the wonders of the Universe, measuring the distance of the Stars, observing their motions, and Reading therein, as in a Book, all the Characters which become the Destiny of Mankind.  
If the Eye be the light of the Body, 
Prudentia recta regula actionum humanarum, & vitae anima. Arist. mag. moral. l●b. 1. cap. ult.  Prudence is that of the Mind; it is a Lustre that dissipates its Darkness, a flame that clears it up in all its designs, and which separating the Good from the Bad, creates in it, a Love for the one, and Honour for the other. As she is active, and interessed in her good success, she regulates all its motions, and will not permit it to take resolutions to its disadvantage. She prescribes such a comely Moderation to its Sallies, that it sets about nothing but by the order of Reason, her judgement is dependant upon its advice, and discovering to it the nature of every thing, puts it out of danger of choosing doubtful good things, for certain ones, and those which are only appearing for True and Real.  
The virtues, that are the Daughters of the Will, fetch all their light from this Sun, she is their perfection as well as guide, and as they are animated by her light, they are observant to all her commands. Those, who forsake her conduct, do easily change from being natural, and degenerate into Vicious, they become the shame or the punishment of their Slaves. Temperance ceases her Empire over the Passions, when she leaves off being ruled by Prudence, her moderation is turned to excess, and following the vain Fancies of imagination, she lets herself be carried out to extremities that are very hurtful and prejudicial. Justice loses its name, and takes that of its contrary, when it is abandoned by Prudence; all its sentences are either too remiss through Fear, or cruel; and not well weighing the greatness of the Crime and its merit, it often punishes the Innocent, and absolves the Guilty. Valour is converted into Weakness or temerity, when it has once left off to depend upon her succour, all that it attacques, does either injure or provoke it, it is always faint-hearted or insolent, and does nothing that is not a reproach to its Cowardice or its Presumption.  
This glory cannot be disputed with Prudence, without being ignorant of ●●s Puissance; for as she is the soul of the Active, civil, and politic Life, she is extended over all the actions of Mankind, she gives the lively and perfecting touches to what Science and Knowledge have but rough-drawn, 
Prudentia informat, actuat, & applicat quae Scientia & sapientia cognoscendo invencrum Cassian. coll. 1.  and making their general principles become particular, she discusses all the circumstances that may be either a ●●op or an advance to her Designs. That she may happily succeed in this purpose, she lets nothing escape her sight, she considers upon all the differences of time, and comparing the future with what is past, she judges of the event of affairs which she has been meditating on. Making use of the memory to learn the conduct of our Ancestors, correcting her Faults by their Errors, and taking advantage from their loss and damage. Things present, little touch her, for as they are easy to discern, and there needs but a mean Capacity to judge of them, she troubles not herself but with futurities, she thinks upon what may happen, though the events may sometimes betray her designs, we can't condemn either her Consultations or Fore ●ight. She is even-poised in all her Erterprises, the evil turns of Fortune do make not her alter her Advices, but she dares undertake to defend them though all the world condemn her of blindness. She is assured that her knowledge of things can't prove deceitful, since they are grounded upon so many Precautions, and she never undertakes any thing without having the judgement for her Arbitrator, Reason for her Mistress, and the Memory for her Warrant. The first discovers to her the nature of things, separating the false from what are true, and serving her as a light, and guide, will not permit her to be mistaken in her Choice. Reason instructs her in what she ought to choose, and pasting from discourse to actions, she applies the general Maxims to particular Accidents. The Memory makes her reflect on what is past, she presents to her view all that has any likeness to her erterprises, and consulting the actions of Predecessors, she draws from thence her examples and copies.  
But though all these particulars go to the making up of Prudence, she seems to have her most absolute dependence on the last, and is more redeveable for her clear perspection into things to the faithfulness of the Memory, then to the discern of Judgement, and the persuasions of Reason. For as the affairs of the world are as it were chained and linked one to another, and the last ordinarily depending on those precedent to them, she regards the things that are past and gone, and comparing them with these present, from thence gathers considerable advantages. Past Events are to her instead of premises, and she grounds her conclusions on their Evidence; as our understandings never make a judgement before they be cleared up and enlightened, so she never makes any Resolutions, but what she draws from those of former times. She consults the Annals, and remarks the accidents that fall out in them, she examines the Counsels of Princes, and Sovereigns, and according to the designs projected by her, approves or condemns them. In short, She runs through all the differences of time, and appearing as an Hieroglyphic of Eternity upon Earth, she regards past Ages, instructs herself of the present, and foresee what will be the future.  
Now, Epicurus having well known the merit of this Virtue, has made of it the principal instrument of Man's felicity, and would have her, as she is the Queen of Virtues, always to begin and end her happiness. We do not approve of the Medicine but for the Health's sake it procures to us: That Art which has instructed us to sail upon the Seas, is not commendable, but for its usefulness to us, and by giving an equal satisfaction to the greedy desires of covetous persons, and to the Ambition of Conquerors. So we esteem Prudence, adoring it as a Divinity, because it bestows upon us abundance of Delight and Pleasure, and bannishing from our breasts the ugly forms of Fear and Sadness, she is in a continual engagement about our happiness.   

The Second Discourse;  
That Prudence advises the wise Man to a Retreat.  
THough our own Interests commonly make us blind, and the love we bear ourselves is ofttimes pernicious to us; yet it ceases not to be Legitimate, and we are suffered to love ourselves without transgressing the ordinances of our Creator. This affection is born with us, it grows up with our age, and never leaves us till we come to our Graves. For as our perfections do dazzle us with their lustre, we are apt to look upon ourselves as the little Demigods of the Earth, we make every thing serviceable to our conservation, whatever is out of us does not at all affect us, and good or evil must make an impression upon our body or mind, if it would testify the Complaisance or the Aversion we have for either. The friendship we bear to our Neighbour, is grounded upon this natural Inclination, we love him in reflecting on ourselves, and as the ●ear● does not emit any heat into the other parts of the body till after that it is well warmed with it itself, so we have but little kindness for our Friends, before we have discovered that they have some for us.  
Prudence, which accounts it her glory to regulate our life, acts always according to this apprehension, she consults our inclinations when she would conduct us to some kind of living, and examining our ability and our desires, she invites us to undertake nothing that may oppose or jussle with them. She would have us follow our Genius in all our Erterprises, and that Nature should be as well our guide as Reason. From thence it happens that she persuades the Sturdy and Courageous to Warlike exercises, and causes those Men of blood to find abundance of pleasure in Carnages and Murders. And thus Husbandmen are in love with the toils and labours of the Cart and Blow, these happy slaves prefer their Thatched Cottages to the splendour of the richest Palaces, and their Plow-tail is before the Battoons of Marshals, and the Sceptre of Princes. From thence it comes to pass, that she stirs up the Ingenious to Learning and Sciences, and that according to their Inclinations she animates them to the study of the secrets of Nature, or to the clearing up to us the mysteries of our Faith.  
As she well knows that the Court is an enemy to Virtue, 
〈…〉  and that none can live there long, but they must either become Criminal or Unfortunate, she persuades the Wise Man to a Retreat, and courts him to get out of a place that may tempt his Innocence, alter his Purposes, and debauch his Purity. She makes him see that it is as inconvenient to represent the person of a Favourite, as that of a King and that he ought to avoid as well the Ambition of the one, as the Pride of the other. As he understands not the art of ●lattering, but his Tongue is always the interpreter of his Heart, 
〈…〉  and as little knows how to commend a Crime, as to blame a virtuous Action, she will not suffer him to expose himself to Danger, 
ver●ari a●las Regum, quia ibi nec veritas nec trq●●uillitas sed simulatio. Marsil. fi●i●us.  and run the risk of wronging his Conscience in playing the Courtier. She instructs him that Fortune is blind, and as unjust in her favours as in her outrages. That he must act below himself to submit to her Empire and Governance, and make a Divinity of an imaginary Idol. ●na word, He ought not to regard the Court but as the Enemy of Wisdom, and as a Theatre, whereon he cannot appear but he must lose his Liberty, hazard his Conscience, and abundantly derogate from his Honor.  
But his Labour will be still Imperfect, if after he has estranged himself from Court, he does not retire from the noise of the World, and if having disengaged himself from one Peril, he is abandoned to another. For the Populace is not more just than those of a Prince●s ●rain, their Sentiments though more generally received, are never the more Reasonable, and if we love our own Repose, we should most fear how we please many persons. The multitude is always dangerous, what ever Virtue we bring to them, 
〈…〉 aut imprimit.  we hardly ever carry away again Pu●e and Entire; our Manners alter by the company of Men, and either the ●vil infects those that come near them, or an i●●●nious Complaisance gives it is Entrance, we still go from them less Innocent or more disordered. Vice, there appears commendable, because it has always there some to approve it, 
Sen. Epist. 7.  the pomp wherewith it discovers itself, begets in us a high esteem of it, and judging its worth by the number or quality of its Authors, we receive it with satisfaction. It often steals into us without ever staying for our consent, all its approaches corrupt our heart, and only to present before it an Object that is agreeable and pleasant, is enough to engage it to an earnest search and diligence. On the other hand, there is little trouble in a shady Solitude, as one sees there, no rich Gaieties, so the Desires are kept regular and orderly. Impurity is banished where one can meet with nothing to entertain it, and Ambition ceases to be our torment, when Honours have left off dazzling our Eyes, and our actions are no more to have Spectators and Witnesses. As one cannot be near the ●ire, but the heat must be felt, so likewise cannot we be conversant with Mankind, but we must blurr our Innocence, and share in their Defilements.  
If they find they have Courage enough tooppose their charms or their Efforts, they scarcely will be able to shun their Derision, they think them Bruits when ever they divide from their sentiments, and we must resolve to become their Enemies, if we would not be their Picture to resemble them in imitation. The Wise Man, knowing his virtue cannot be in Safety amidst so many Dangers, 
Nihil sore, nihil● impo nihil 〈◊〉 〈…〉 de popule, im●● unicum negotium mihi est, nihil aliud n●●c ●aqu●m ●e●ar●m.  and that 'tis hard to converse with the Impious and Profane without contracting their Vices; flies their company, and mistrusting his own Strength to resist, thinks it better to make an honourable Retreat, than to hazard his Innocence. He seeks his felicity in his solitude, he retires from the World to enjoy himself, and his virtue being all his Treasure, he believes himself sufficiently happy in his having it for a Companion. He regards it as a Good that will never forsake him, 
Ter●u●●. 〈◊〉. de pal li●.  but be his Shadow when ever he is pleased to be the Substance, and which is never more faithful to him then when he is a Recluse to t●e world, to become her most humble and passionate Servant. The Volupty he receives from it, is an effect of Prudence, he is indebted to the sincerity of his Counsels for the tranquillity of his Soul, and it may be said that she is the cause of all his Happiness, since she discovers to him the miseries of the Court, and the injustice of the People to engage him to a Retreat.   

The Third Discourse.  
That Prudence instructs Men to rule their Families.  
IF Oeconomie be not the most Noble, she is the most Ancient of Empires, Fathers of Families were seen before Kings, and the first who have set themselves over the liberty of the People, were but as Prentices to them. Their Rules have served them for Instructions, they have got from these Sources wherewithal to govern their States, and have learned the Politics in observing the Maxims of particulars. If the conduct of Families has not so much of Pomp in it as that of a Kingdom, it has not less of Difficulty, and I question which is the easiest, to command Subjects, or to keep a Wife in her duty, and Children in their obedience? The ill humour of the one, and extravagence of the others, put a whole House into disorder, Correction and Chastisement are oftentimes little profitable to them, and the fear that assures their Estates, almost continually puts their Persons into danger.  
Therefore does Prudence boast of her assisting us in our Necessities, because she counsels us not rashly to engage ourselves in Marriage, but to consider well beforehand the dispositions of that person one designs for a Wife, and rather to be affected with the perfections of her Soul, than the charms of her Face. It tells us that Beauty is but seldom innocent, that Pride is inseparable to it, that the Fair are always scornful, and commonly despises the company of their Husbands to entertain themselves with that of their Adorers. That the Rich are imperious, that they love to command, but will never obey, that they must not be contradicted in their will without making them angry, and that we must resolve to bear with their Insolence, if we would be quiet in our house. To make our Marriage happy, she would have our conditions equal, our humours of a pretty near resemblance, our Love mutual, and she does not aim so much to unite our Bodies, as our Minds and Affections. When Heaven smiles upon our Choice, and we find all these qualifications in the Person of her we Court, she obliges us to consider her as our Spouse, and not as our Friend only, to receive her into our counsel, to make her share in our Secrets, and to conceal nothing from her that may give her a suspicion of our mistrust. 'tis to Solicit her to abate her Kindness, to doubt of her Discretion, and to reveal all that is not committed to her Fidelity. Love suffers no partage, all that divides it is its bane and ruin, and it changes its nature and languishes when it ceases to be communicable. The way to engage a Wi●e to silence, is, to think her faithful, to assure her of the good opinion we have conceived of her Virtue, and to testify to her that we believe our Secrets as secure in her breast as in our own.  
If there be some opportunities that dispense with this Obligation, 
Nemo sibi bla●diatur, de legibus hominum, omne stuprum adulterium est, nec virolicet, quo●● mulicrinon t●cet, eadem avi roqu●●e ab uxore deb●tu●, ca●●●monia. D. Ambrose, lib. 1. cap 4. de A●raha.  and suffers us not to declare our Secrets, there are none that disengage us from our Promises; the faith that knits the Marriage is sacred, and not to be violated without committing a Sacrilege. The Law that favours Men, cannot absolve them from injustice, when they defile the Nuptial Bed, and leave their Wife's company, to throw themselves into the arms of an Adulteress. Nature, knows no difference of Sex, what is forbid the one, is not permitted to the other, and he unjustly exacts ●idelit in his Spouse, who profanes that he has promised her by Illegitimate and blamable Conversations. Yea, he does as it were make himself the Bawd to his Wife, by his ill example, and solicits her to the Sin by the corruption of his own loose carriage, and authorises her flyings out and reproachful liberties, when he approves of them in his own person. He ought to be Chaste, if he would have his Wife Continent, and to have his life exempt from Scandal if he would with justice oblige her to an honest innocence.  
When Heaven blesses their Marriage, and bestows upon them Children to continue their Family, Nature charges them to take care of their Nurture, and to keep them after they have brought them into the World. 
Facilè l●nera conciliantur ingenia, ad honesti amorem.  When Age has loosened their Tongue, and Reason begins to discover its Vivacity, and renders them capable of Instruction, they ought to labour their Education, and imprint upon those young plants, 
Sen Epist 50.  Piety and Virtue. Those that are failing in this Duty, may very well pass for their Enemies, and it may be doubted if they think them Legitimate, since they so shamefully abandon them in their necessity. An Infant receives nothing from his Father, but his Body, his Soul is God's production, the Estate he ought to inherit, is often fixed to his Cradle, and that person does but imperfectly deserve the name of Father, that does not improve his Mind, and implant commendable Sentiments into his Understanding and Judgement. If Nature, has been niggardly in her favours to him, and denied him this address, which is so necessary to the Education of Children, he ought to have recourse to the Pruden●e of others, to make choice of Masters of whose conduct he approves, and whose life is as void of unworthy Imputations as are his Manners. 
Quo semel est imbuta recens serva bit odorem— testa diu. Hor.  Nothing, makes a deeper impression on our Soul, then that which is poured into it in our youth, whatsoever is then sowed takes root, and as the young twigs of Trees bend according to the motions of the hand which turns them either up or down, so without any Difficulty do we pursue the instructions of Masters who govern us. Their words we make our Oracles, we reverence all that comes from their mouths, and considering them as representing the persons of our Fathers, we imitate their Actions, and often become their Copies and Images.  
Though Servants are strangers in houses, and they may rid themselves of them when ever they become unprofitable, yet they make themselves a member thereof, as well as the Children, and though they are their inferiors, they may in some measure boast of being their equals. The Patres Familias are obliged to feed them, they are as well their Procurators, as their Masters, and they must provide for them necessaries, if they would get any service from them. Also those that consider well their conditions, look upon them as Men, and not as Slaves, they converse with them as with friends of an humble and contracted Fortune, and considering that their servitude is equal, and their dependence mutual, they do not so much make use of Fear, as Love, to keep them to their duty. They know that their birth, though more obscure, is not more vile than their own, and that those Parents who brought them into the world, might be as free and unrestrained, as rational. That they liv●d under the same Constellations, that Heaven is their Country, that Air and 〈◊〉 art are equally common with them, and that Death, which puts no differences between Princes and Porters, crumbles into Dust, the Masters and the Servants. Familiarity, makes them faithful, those who speak at their Tables are silent in their Troubles, and do not fear to expose their lives in concealing their Master's secrets. Too much Rigour abates their courage, and they will not be concerned in the interests of those who are too insulting and imperious over them, or who mistrust them of their Fidelity. But if they are found such as Domineer over their Masters, and abuse their Goodness to whom they owe Respect, they must repress their Insolence with address and cunning, and make them know they do not so much dislike their persons as their ill carriage. To rule and govern this sort of People by harsh and rugged means, except one has a recourse to Prudence, and takes its measures, one may easily fall into dangerous Extremities.   

The Fourth Discourse.  
That the Art of Governing States and Kingdoms has its dependence upon Prudence.  
WE can never see any thing more Illustrious in the world, than Kings; they are the Suns of the Earth, the Arbitrators of Mankind, the Rulers of their People, and the visible Divinities whom they Adore. Fortune, seems to betyed to their Wills, and according to the passions that animate them, they make their Kingdoms miserable or fortunate. Their Anger is constantly the forerunner of Death, and if they are offended, 'tis the sacrifice of some Life that must appease them. But their goodness makes the Subject's felicity, they esteem themselves happy under a Prince's conduct that is mild and courteous, they receive his Commands with respect, and his Words are no less sacred to them then his Laws and Injunctions. Nothing can be seen in their Persons, but what begets Veneration, and represents this Puissance primitive from whence they borrow their Authority.  
But to administer so absolute a charge, 
Qui regit, majestatem suam tuetur non tam severitate vultus, quam morum rectitudine. August. lib. 5. de civet. Dei.  as to render one's self worthy the name of a Sovereign, it is requisite that there be qualities more than ordinarily eminent in him, that he exceed the rest of Men in his Perfections as well as in Grandeur. The Examples of Princes is a light that shines into all their Subjects, a burning Mirroir that reflects upon their hearts, filling it with Virtue or Vice, as they themselves are, just or debauched. For what people is there that count it not their glory to imitate their Sovereigns? and reckon Lawful and Authoritative whatsoever they remark in His Person? As they believe he is the Soul of the Republic over which he rules, they admit of all his Movements, and count it an honour that it is permitted them to imitate his Actions. Do we not see the imperfections of Princes become the faults of their Subjects, what offends the one, wounds the other, the evil that gives the former a diversion, is agreeable to the latter, and not distinguishing between good and bad Actions, they think they may close with any thing that they authorise by their Example. It concerns Kings to be Virtuous, if they would not bring down upon their heads the curses of Heaven, and render themselves responsible for all the disorders of their People.  
But Piety would be little beneficial to them, if they were not Just and Upright, and did not observe the Faith given to their Nieghbor, 
Non decent Stultum verba composita, nec principem labium m●ntiens. Proverb. 7.  after they had paid their duties to their Creator. Perfidiousness, is the crime of base Spirits, never entering but into the hearts of infamous persons, and for any to be unfaithful to their promises, they must first absolutely renounce their Honor. Every time a Prince goes aside from His word, or finds out any circuitous Tricks and Evasions to null His Contracts, He shows a vanity that lesse●s His Grandeur, and discovers His Fear, or want of Power. Who will give any heed to Their Promises, that have once found them false and deceitful? And how can They assure Their People that They will support them for the future, if They are accounted faulty in Their Opinions? Truth is the Appanage of Crowned Heads, Kings ought to be the Lovers as well as the Defenders of It, and they no less hazard their Reputation when they are Unfaithful to their Enemies, then to their Allies. If They write Patents with Their own Hands, who will credit them? Or, who will receive them, if they send Ambassadors? 'Tis hard to deal with persons that have no Faith, and that esteem nothing honourable, but what is for their advantage. Fraud, is unworthy the Majesty of Kings, and they cannot make use of it, but they must betray their Fear, or else acquire to themselves the Ignominious title of a Liar. They must be of the Nature of Scorpions that hide their Venom in their Tail, and have their after Thoughts and mental Reserves when concerned to treat with Honor.  
If Princes ought to be true in their Words, they ought not to be less just in their Actions; their Authority does not exempt them from the Laws, and though they be the Authors of them, they cannot violate them publicly without incurring the Indignation of their People. The excess of their Power is a Mark of their Dependence, and if they may execute whatever they have a mind to, it is forbidden them to will any thing but what they ought. Justice, 
Qui regit, Majestatem suam tuctur non tam severitat● vult●●s quam morum rectitudine. August. lib. 5. de civet, Dei.  has an Excellence above that of Diadems, it judges of Kings as well as of their Subjects, and appeals always from their Tribunals to Themselves, when they have offended it. It behoves them to follow the Orders they have made, if they will command with Equity; to submit to the Laws that they have prescribed to others, and to establish them in their Hearts rather by their Example then by their Words and Writings.  
They would easily execute this Design, would they but reduce their Ordinances to a Reasonable Number, and not multiply them without an evident Necessity. Laws, are the Medicaments of States, and as the quantity of Remedies disorder the natural Bodies, so multitude of Laws bring Confusion to the bodies Politic. 'tis their excessive Number that begets all our Quarrels, which engages us in tedious Suits, and often causes our feuds to be perpetual. 'tis their Number that feeds the Avarice of Lawyers, and that furnishes these Bloodsuckers with Tricks and Devises to filch our Purses. 'tis their Number authorises Injustice in Magistrates, that stagger Judges, and makes them find in their Codes and Pandects matter enough to favour the most feeble and guilty Causes. 'tis their Number depopulates Countries, wastes Armies, decays and ruins Traffic to fill up the Courts of Justice, employs so many loose Fellows in Jarrs and Bramblements, and renders Tribunals, the Retreats of Pirates and Robbers. The excess of good things is not always wholesome, and I question whether Vice is more pernicious to a Commonwealth, than multitude of Laws. Both do debauch Consciences, corrupt Manners, trouble Society, and raise up Disorders and Enmities in States in the midst of Peace.  
It were well then that a Monarch suffered but few Laws in His Kingdom, if He would avoid all these disorders, and content Himself with those He has received from His Ancestors, if He would keep His Subjects in good Intelligence. But as Justice is the happiness of States, and Laws the more sacred, the less profitable to it, if not executed with Rigour and Severity, Princes ought to watch over their Magistrates, and see if those Subaltern Powers do act with Equity. They ought to bethink themselves that they are God's Ministers, that they hold His judgements in their hands, and are not exalted above the quality of other Men, but to chastise Offences and exercise Justice. This is an employment annexed to their Puissance, and they cannot discharge themselves thereof without renouncing their Dignity. They ought to fillet down their Eyes to have no respect to Persons, but whosoever should dare to sin against them, aught to be esteemed their Enemies, and they profane their Majesties in their partiality, by making one and the same Action in two different Persons, become both Innocent and Criminal.    

The Third TREA-TISE. OF TEMPERANCE.  

The First Discourse.  
Of the Nature of Temperance.  
THe inferior sort of People could never yet conceive that Wise Men got any Advantage by Afflictions, that they received any satisfaction at its approach, and that those which grieved the Body, could transmit Delight and Pleasure into the Soul. What● say they, have Contraries allied themselves in His Person, and do Torments cease being sensible, because they are supported and upheld by Virtue? Effects have still relation to their principles, and 'tis to mistake the nature of things, to make 'em depend on causes to which they are opposite. Some Philosophers have had the same Sentiments of Temperance, they can scarce comprehend that it produces Pleasure; since it is still opposing of it, and labours as much as can be to overthrow and ruin it.  
But yet these two Paradoxes are true, and it will be sufficient to give a Cursory Explanation of them, that their Evidence might be the more clear and manifest. The wise Man is sensible of Joy in the midst of Torments, because he is wholly retired in his Soul, does not at all communicate with his Body, and places all his Glory and Felicity in his Virtue. Temperance, gives birth to his contentment, in her resisting of Pleasure, retrenching of Disorders, and submitting herself to the Laws of Reason. For, Temperance is nothing else but a Controlling Power that She as Sovereign has over the concupiscible Appetite, which governs those passions that are most agreeable, and which gives us satisfaction from their Moderation or their Overthrow. She represses the Desires, and suffers not those Rovers to take their flights out of ourselves. She restrains Hope, and does not permit the ambitious seeking of Goods, which are prejudicial or unprofitable to us. She retains Love, prescribes Laws to that Tyrant, and qualifying its fury, she keeps it from raising up Tempests that might be a trouble to our Repose. But her chief work is to oppose Pleasure, to suppress its unjust Violence, and to hold the most dangerous of our Passions to its Duty. She is a Persecuter of infamous Pleasures, and knowing they are Scandalous, and dare not produce themselves, she chastizes them in the persons of their Slaves, she moderates the lawful Ones, and forbids the too frequent use of them, and prevents those things that are permitted us from engaging us in Sin.  
The Husband is not always in safety in the embraces of his Wife, the excess of his lo●e may render him criminal, and it matters little that Marriage authorises his Liberty, since that Intemperence may make him impudent, he ought to love her, but not to be her Idolater; it is fit his approaches be as respectful as they are free, and that he pursues in his entertainments, the Rules of Moderation, and not the motions of Lust and Concupiscence. He runs the risque of wounding his Conscience, when he is immoderate in his Pleasures, and of losing the name of a Husband, and taking up that of an Adulterer. Shame is nerver separable from Moderation; 'tis her Defence as well as her Friend, and she is easily turned into Stupidity or Impudence, when she is deprived of her Succour. A Civil Behaviour makes up a great part of her Glory, it inspires in her, an Aversion to every thing that offends it, and does not suffer her Lovers such pleasures as may oblige them to Repentance. So that we must be afraid of Infamy if we would be Temperate, and have an horror to do any thing in secret, which would shock our Modesty and orderly Deportment.  
As Temperance imitates Prudence in her conduct, showing us the good things we ought to choose, and the evil things it would become us to avoid; She would have our Resolutions firm, and not to make any Proposals to ourselves, but such as we fully purpose to accomplish. Many have engaged themselves in shameful Pleasures, because they flatter their Designs, and have made them Unchaste by being desirous to combat with Volupty. They have submitted to that they thought to conquer, and not foreseeing the Mischiefs that might befall them, they have made of their pretended Slaves, their true Lords and Masters. Distempers are for the most part the fruits of this Imprudence; 'tis that which fills Hospitals, and discovers there so many reproachful Martyrs, and which obliges all Men to detest their vi●es, and have a horror for their Persons.  
Reason, is the Directress of Pleasure, we must follow her rules to enjoy it without Regret, and look upon as unlawful for us, whatever she condemns or disapproves. The privation of Pleasure is often advantageous to us, and as there are but few reasonable ones, we dai●y find great satisfaction in conquering and subduing them.  
From all this Discourse it is easy to conclude, that we love Temperance, not because she is Austere, and in perpetual war with Pleasure, but because she is the Tutoress of Prudence, that cuts off those pleasures that are either Superfluous or Criminal, and instructing us how to stand out against them, she makes our joyful satisfaction arise from our victory,   

The Second Discourse;  
That Sobriety maintains the health of the Body with Pleasure.  
IF Eating to Excess be not the greatest of Vices, 
Hos ventr● obedientes, animalium loco numeremus, non Hominum. Senec. Epist. 60.  it is the most Infamous and Shameful; it brings Man to become Bestial, it takes away Liberty after it has robbed him of his Reason, and some have justly questioned, if that person still deserved to bear the name of a Man, who has taken upon himself the qualities of Irrational Animals. For as he is always bowing down towards the Earth, he has no other thoughts but for things below, his Belly is the Divinity he ●everes, and he counts nothing deserves his diligent search but what will glut and satisfy his sordid desires. But that which contents him, dishonours him also, the excess of his Eating and Drinking, renders him Stupid, and blinding his Reason, equals his condition to that of loathsome Beasts.  
Though these Reproaches are Shameful, he nevertheless would have them True, and that Man should be more irregular in his Inclinations, than the bruit Beasts in their Appetites. Those eat not but when they are oppressed by Hunger, nor do they drink, but when Heat has caused a Drowth in their bodies; and all Objects become indifferent to them, when they cease to provoke their desires. But Man is an unsatiable Monster, he is never wearied but perpetually Cramming, he is still calling for his Viands though he is but just before sated with them, and the Wine he is continually swilling himself with, does not so much serve to content his Passion, as to sharpen it. An Acre of Land is sufficient to nourish many Oxen, and those Beasts that are eating most part of the day, can find enough in one Field of a small compass to sustain their lives. One Wood keeps many Elephants, and those heavy lumps of Flesh, that have so vast a paunch, meet there with Food enough to fill them up. But nothing is capable to satisfy Man's Hungry appetite; after he has depopulated the Earth, forced its entrails to afford him Viands and turned its Excrements into Nurture, he is presently for the Sea, penetrates into the Abysms of it, and spares nothing of all that Nature has there hid, to satisfy and appease his insatiable Gluttony.  
Temperance, which Glories in attacking this Monster, instructs us to reform these disorders, and not to extend our desires beyond things necessary. She would have Nature be our Mistress in the management of our lives, not to set about any thing that she disapproves, but let her Conduct be our Instruction, and as she rejects those services of Meats that are superfluous, we should be contented with her Provision for us. She condemns Debauches, for they destroy the Health, change the Temper and Constitution of the Body, and cause disorders in all its parts. Impudicity, is, a thing annexed to this immoderate Feeding, those two Vices are never separated, and it is almost a Prodigy, to see a Man chaste that is a lover of Good-Cheer. Diseases proceed from the inordinacy of Feeding, the crudities of the Stomach, the pains of the Head, and the dizziness of the Brain, would be unknown in the world, if Feasts and Banquets were not the unhappy causes of them. On the contrary, Sobriety smothers these Vices in the Cradle, it prevents their disorders, and is equally the defence of Chastity, and the companion of an honest and virtuous Life. It keeps the Body in health, maintains a good Intelligence between its Members, and according to its humours, it makes its Passions become obedient and orderly. Maladies have only respect to those that live not according to its Rules; Grief and Pain is the partage of those that are Intemperate, and when Infirmities weaken Man's Body, the Gout torturing his Nerves, the Fever filling his Veins with burning fire, the Colic tormenting his Bowels, we may justly say, that he himself is the cause of all these Evils, or that he does derive them from his Ancestors.  
Wine is a gift from Heaven, as well as a present from Earth; the Poets make it the Parent of Pleasure, the enemy of Sadness, and an innocent Magician, that enlightening their minds, serves them as a Guide to discover the Wonders of Nature. It's Heat contributes to the conserving of our Health, its Spirits animate and enliven our Bodies, and moderating the qualities of those Elements of which it is made, keeps its strength with Delight and Pleasure. But the immoderate use of it o'erthrows all this Beautiful and Comely Order, it destroys the Memory, and causes this Guardianess of Sciences to lose the Deposita which it was entrusted with. It darkens the Judgement, perverts the Understanding, and those messengers which are so acquired to us then, give us but unfaithful accounts, when they are Obfuscated by those Vapours. The Blood that nourishes our Bodies, becomes then a Contagion, it corrupts all the members that it gives heat and warmth to, and leaves in it nothing that it does not weaken, if not consume. 
Monstrum habetur libido sine gula. Tertullian, lib. de jejunio.  Someties it begets in us such Flames as prove our Destruction, by engaging us into infamous Enormities that are not to be mentioned but with Horror. A Drunkard is the most unhappy of all Men, if sometimes he is exempt from Crimes, he is not free from the torments that accompany them. He is Agitated by Furies even when he sleeps, his Repose is interrupted by Phantasms and Apparitions, all that appears to him, affrights and terrifies him, and one needs not trouble themselves with Chastising his Intemperance, since that he bears his Executioner in his own breast.  
If the excess of Eating and Drinking alter the disposition of his Body, if Debauches do disorder his Temper, and produce all these Maladies to carry him to his Grave; the Delicacy of his Viands is not more Pernicious to him, and though it is the more to be excused, 'tis not the less dangerous. Those Dishes dressed with so much Cost and Sumptuousness, decay the natural heat, and spreading a malignant fiery influence into all the Veins, consume that Radical Moisture which is the principle of Life. Who is ignorant that the weakness of the Body, paleness of the Face, and stinking Breath are not the effects of Delicacies, which depraving the Stomach, leaves therein such Superfluities as do infect it? Health is the daughter of Abstinence, one ought to be Sober, to be full of Strength and Vigour, and he very unprofitably hopes to see the Heat agree with the moisture and coldness of his Body, who is never but filling it with curious and studied Rarities. How happy was the Age that knew no Cooks, but looked upon them as the Adulterers of Nature, as the enemies of Health, and the Sorcerers that inchant Men to destroy them. How pleasantly would he live that contented himself with the Provisions of the Earth, that made his Meals of common Viands, and that fed himself on what he found without Search and Difficulty, and what he might purchase without Artifice.  
As his body is disposed, that the functions of his Soul should be sedate, he wants no Potions to purge him, Sobriety is to him instead of Physic, and without any succour then that of Nature, it conserveses his Health, and cures him of all sorts of Maladies.  
That which advances a sober Man's Happiness, and puts him above the Powers of the Earth, is, that he is unapprehensive of the Disgraces of Fortune, and that he is as steady and assured in Poverty as when he does abound in Riches. For what has he to fear, that studies, but to satisfy the necessities of Nature, and in all places finds enough wherewithal to quench his Thirst, and appease his Hunger that is pressing upon him? None but the Effeminate are afraid of Misfortunes, and who never think themselves happy unless they swim in Delights and Pleasures.   

The Third Discourse.  
That the Coelibate or Single Life is accompanied with Pleasure.  
THe World owes its Conservation to Marriage; 'tis that which began humane Society, which has populated Countries, filled Cities, form States, and given Inhabitants of the most remote parts of the Earth. Our first Parent was engaged to it a little after His Creation, his alliance preceded his consent, and no sooner was he established in his Earthly Paradise, but he saw himself obliged to have one part of him the Object of his Affection.  
Almighty God, who wrought this Miracle, fetched the Woman from his side during his Ecstasy, that so those two Persons should make but one and the same All, that their Bodies should be but one and the same Flesh, and that their Minds should aspire but to one and the same felicity. Marriage is an image of the Divinity, the Unity does not Derogate from the plurality of their Persons, they are but one though they be two, and though they are of a different Sex, they still have the same Nature. This advantage heightens the glory of Marriage, and there is no person but would boast that he resembled his Creator, if he was not pursued with so vast a retinue of Miseries, and if there was not an absolute necessity to be Miserable, because he was of the Number of those that were Married.  
The Wife is as it were, 
Mulieri quoque dixit, multiplicabo aerumnas tuas, & conc●ptus tuos; Sub potestate vi●i eris, & ipse dominabitur tui. Gen. 3.  the bought Servant of her Husband, she loses her Liberty in becoming his Spouse, and she obliges her self to serve and obey him, from the time that she promises herself to be faithful to him. As she makes but one and the same substance with him, she ought to observe all his Motions, be pleased in his Joys, grieved in his Afflictions, and be a faithful Mirroir to represent in her Person all the passions that influence him. The Portion she brings exempts her not from this Servitude. She is poor as soon as she renounces her Liberty, and unjustly usurps the name of Mistress, since she has nothing in her dispose. That which still increases her unhappiness, and renders her poverty more evident, is, that she is forbid to receive any Presents but in the presence of her Husband, and must not accept of any private Sacrifices without making herself suspected, and hazarding her Reputation. But though this Restraint should not be fixed to her condition, and this Alliance she contracts with her Husband should not prejudice her Liberty; yet she cannot secure herself against Troubles, 
Bini sunt cum uxore jucundissimi di●s, alter quo ducitu●, alter quo mortua essertur. Hipponactes, apud Stobaeum Se●. 69.  her being great with Child, is Incompatible with her Health, she is exposed to a thousand dangers during the time she carries her Fruit, she runs the ●isque of losing her own life as often as she gives it to her Child. The vows she makes for her deliverance, and the horror the name of Mother gives her, are the irreproachable evidences of her apprehensions, which make her often repent her wishes, and prefer Sterility to a fruitfulness that carries along with it so much both of Pain and Danger.  
But consider her in some estates, and she is never freed from the suspicions of her Husband; He narrowly pries into her actions, he examines the Sense of her words, he watches the motions of her Eyes, and often makes innocent Divertisements to pass for Criminal and unblamable Entertainments; Oh! what slavery is it to be obliged to live constantly with a Man who is possessed with the spirit of Jealousy, that mistru●●s her Fidelity, fears her being unconstant, and often teaches her to be unfaithful to him by his diffidence? That person must needs be an enemy to liberty that is in love with Servitude, and must hate herself, to be willing to be put into the Puissance and governance of another.  
Though the Husband take on him the Grandeur of a Sovereign, yet is he not in a more happy condition than his Wife; if he sets her Laws, he is often constrained to receive some too, and if he lays Commands upon her, he is forced to be subject to her humours, if he would have them fulfilled. Pride is natural to that Sex, and cannot be suppressed but by Violence, he must either become her Slave or her Tyrant, to render her obedient. Though her perfections are charming, yet to be constantly possessed with them, they become unattractive, and cease to be pleasing when the Man must be forced to have no other Entertainment. Whatever Beauty he brings into his house, he quickly spies some blemish in it, her Brisk and Airy humours proves troublesome, and he very indifferently looks upon her who before was the object of his felicity. Marriage is like old Age, all wish to arrive ●o it, and as they think that Wisdom is a Label fixed to the number of years, so they reckon that Pleasure is the Heritage of Married persons. But scarce have they committed Matrimony e'er they condemn their Vows, and are mad almost to see them change into Effects, and desire to be delivered from a society which is as disadvantageous to them, as it is importune and troublesome.  
Now Continence happily frees both Persons from these Miseries, and leaving them in a natural condition, she assures them against all things that may prejudice their Liberty or Repose. It discharges them from the concerned Care of bringing up Children, of providing Masters to instruct them, of finding them Callings according to their humours, and of keeping them in respect after they have left them to themselves. None doubts the Pleasure there is in being deprived from so many Disquiets, and that a Man may count himself happy, who has no Wife to please, no Children to bring up, nor Family to take care for.  
Some persons have thought that Viduity was a Martyr, that the pleasure which preceded it was its torment, and it was difficult to abstain from a Delight to which one was accustomed, 
Quid som nias teneros a●●us, & exquisi i●s edu●●tos d●lici●s longum 〈◊〉 s●r●e Ma●●imo ●um. 〈◊〉 Epist. 41.  without a great Affliction. That a Woman might pass for a Prodigy, that is Chaste after Marriage, who circumscribes her Affection to the Tomb of her Husband, and yields not herself up to the prevalency of her frailty, all the while that the blood runs warm in her Veins, and her age authorises a second Alliance. In short, it seems that Nature is her Tyrant, the pleasure she has tasted becomes her Enemy, her inclinations exercise the office of Executioners, and her most agreeable motions conspire to be her Torment. But the reasons that are brought to forbid a second Marriage, are but little better than insignificant and Nonsense, to give Epicurus satisfaction; This Philosopher condemns it in all his Writings and though he believes it may be permitted, yet he neither judges it honest or reasonable. He can never persuade himself that a Woman had any Affections for her former Husband, who engages herself to another, and he accounts her Infamous every time that she proves unfaithful to him. He instances to us in beathenish Women, who have preferred Death to the bonds of Marriage, and chosen rather to burn in the Fire, then to lose their Liberty a second time. 'Tis to be ignorant of the miseries of her first condition, to aspire at the same again, and to be insensible she has ever been unhappy to entertain the Addresses of her new Votaries after she has once been released from the grievances of Marriage. But peradventure her first Affections have been very Fortunate, and she found in the person of her Husband rather an Amorous Gallant than a Domineering Master: Who then can assure her that he who shall succeed him, will have the same passion for her? Since that which ought to feed it, will be dying daily, her Charms will diminish, her Beauty languish, and all the Pains she can possibly be at to conserve it, have not power enough to keep her from growing Old. A Husband looks not upon another's leave but with Disgust, and he without any Regret can see that Face decay, of which he has not cropped the Flower. If her Marriage has been Unfortunate, dares she venture her Person a second time, and run the risk of being miserable all the days of her life? Surely she must have lost her Senses that is in love with Slavery, and purchase the pleasure of a Beast at the expense of her Liberty.  
If Heaven has given her Children, let it be all her care to bring them up, and be afraid always to give them an Enemy instead of a cherishing and tender Father, and to make a Tyrant succeed her and their lawful Sovereign. Let her reckon that those she will have by a second Husband, will be continually making a division in her house, the former will be still an Eyesore to them, and she'll often be obliged to hate them for fear of being suspected that she has yet a kindness for the Father of them. How happy then is the Coelibate Life, if compared to Marriage, and how redevable are those persons to the goodness of Heaven, who are exempt from those Frailties which engage even the greatest part of Mankind to it! For if Virginity be a Grace, Continence is a Virtue, it is an aspiring to that Sanctity that prefers the Spirit to the Flesh, and to conte●n the Inhabitants of the Earth, to pursue the intelligences which the Hea●'ns are employed in. This happiness did seem so considerable in past Ages, that Women were seen to defend it at the peril of their Lives, who ha●e been less afraid of the company of Executioners, then of that of their Lovers, and who have chosen a shameful death, rather than fall into their Embraces. Marriage is the partage of those who are either Incontinent or Slaves, and that person must needs lose his Liberty, or his Reason, who will engage himself to it, without an unavoidable Necessity.   

The Fourth Discourse.  
That there is a great Glory and Satisfaction in forgiving Injuries.  
What high Opinion soever I have conceived of the Doctrine of Aristotle, and what Esteem soever I make of the Judgement of his Disciples, I cannot yet be persuaded that the Passions can be profitable to Man, and that those which so often make Revolts against Reason, can favour the party and side of Virtue. For as they have no other guide then Opinion, they easily slip into Disorders, and following the Counsels of this Fantastical and Hare-brained Mistress, they almost continually engage those whom they possess into dangerous Extremities. Love, even brings us to become Foolish, it seduces our Judgement after it has abused our Credulity, and overturning the order of Nature, it submits us to a Sex that is inferior to us, Griefs, are the abaters of our Courage, and Exasperating the causes of our Vexations, they insensibly conduct us to Despair. Envy makes us Miserable, it gives us our punishment in the prosperity of our Neighbour, and by an ingenious Tyranny, it makes the cause of our Grief to proceed from the occasion of his Love.  
But of all the motions of our Soul, none is more cruel than Revenge; it is an Aspic that gnaws our Heart, a Fury that bewitches our Spirit, and that makes us taste the greatest part of the Poison we prepare for our Enemies. Joy steals softly into our Souls, and we think ourselves happy when it arrests the violence of our Desires. Hope entertains us not but with good things to come, and it leaves off Soliciting us to their pursuit, when they cease to be further useful or agreeable to us. Jealousy and Grief, have Charms to draw us; if they afflict us, they likewise comfort us, and know so well how to flatter our Inclinations, that we become their Slaves with Pleasure and Contentment: But Revenge is always Fell and Cruel, it gets possession of our Soul with Violence, nor stays it there but with Despite and Spleen, and animated with the Fire that consumes it, it thinks of nothing but Murders and Homicides.  
The virtue that keeps Passions from taking root, and that represses these indiscreet Sallies which transform themselves so oft into Vices, arrests the fury of Vengeance, and equally condemns its Insolence and Baseness. It teaches us that Offences are but imaginary, and we must be very Weak or Proud to be sensible of the Outrages of Impious Persons, and though Injuries should be done us, and the authors of them should be our professed Enemies, yet should we be obliged not to hate them, but to stifle in us all thoughts of Revenge. Generosity invites us to Pardon; it is a mark of Courage to forget Outrages, and to do Voluntarily and out of Kindness, what Sovereigns often do by Constraint and Compulsion. They never punish an Affront done against their proper Persons without Infamy; the Judgement they give upon it, dishonours their Puissance, and they lose the name of Judges, to take that of Culpable, when they descend from their Grandeur to revenge themselves of particular Injuries. If they are Generous, they love their Enemies, their Virtue makes them respected, and with out any difficulty do they raise them up to public Charges and Employs, after they have treated them like Rebels. They judge of their Fidelity, by what they have testified to their Adversaries, and turning their aversion into Love, they recompense their Rebellion and their Infidelity.  
Porus had not obtained Alexander's Friendship but by this way, and he had not seen his Empire enlarged but because he had before opposed his Victory. This Conqueror let himself be wholly vanquished by his Valour, he lo●'d a Man that had endeavoured what he could to destroy him, 
Aegrum curavit, ac si pro 〈◊〉 pugnisset, mox don● vit ampliori Regao quam tenuit.  and following the motions of his Generosity, he made his Favourite of the most Opiniastre of his Enemies. This action we admire in this Conqueror, and which has procured him so many Eulogies in History ought to be the common practice of Christians, they should cherish those that persecute them, 
Curtius.  and look upon with the same Eye, both Favours and Outrages, and deceiving the Sentiments of Nature, make the object of their Hatred, the subject of their Love. The Gospel subsists but by the observance of this Maxim, we must forgive, to be imitators of the Son of God, and do good to his Calumniators, if we would hope to have a part in his Glory. Faith is unprofitable to us without this Perfection, its light serves but for our ruin, and if not animated with Charity, it is not so much our Guide as our Condemnation.  
But though the Gospel should be unknown in the World, and that this God-man, who came into it to establish Peace, should not have commanded us this Virtue, Nature ought to make it familiar to us, and to learn us that Revenge is nothing else but the vice of the Cyclops and Charybdis. Man naturally is an Enemy to Cruelty, he cannot enter into Choler and Rage without doing himself a Violence, and he degenerates into Bestial, and takes upon him those qualities every time he breaks forth into fury against his Neighbour. There is glory in pardoning an Offence, when it is Weakness and Cowardice to revenge it. This ambition is Commendable, and that person may boast that he is above his Enemies, who despises their injuries. It is true, this Perfection is not much relieved, and there wants but a mean Virtue to receive with indifference an Outrage coming from the mouth or hand of a Wicked Person: But Generosity goes further, it would have us do good to those that have hurt us, to oblige them to Repentance by our favours and kindness, and to make their Malice be the rule of our Liberality.  
Man aught to be a friend to Clemency, and to persuade himself that he labours his Happiness, when he remits an injury, that Pleasure is fixed to virtuous actions, and that none is more solid than that he derives from the love of his Enemies. That wise King who is so celebrated in the Scripture, for having triumphed over his Passions, and taught Moderation to His Subjects by His own Example, was of this opinion, when he recommended the life of Ab alom to His Soldiers, and forbade them to touch his Person in their re-encounters, 
Servate mihi puerum Absalon.  or in the Battle. This Insolent Son, after he had abused his Power, embrued his hands in the blood of his Brother Amnon, forced the Palace Royal, and obliged his Father to a shameful flight, had yet so much Temerity as to have designs upon his life, and to meditate a Parricide to set the Crown upon his own head. And yet David did command Joab the Leader of his Army to spare him, to have a care of his Life, and to put him safe again into his Arms. He had learned the great Advantage there was to be conquered by Mildness, that Revenge is always infamous, and one cannot be cruel to his enemy, without offending his Conscience or Reputation. Nature does not oppose this Sentiment but in the minds of those that are weak and cowardly, and notwithstanding some difficulties that may be met with, they are easy to be overcome by those who are lovers of Virtue, and who have proved its force and power.    

The Fourth TREATISE. OF FORCE.  

The First Discourse.  
Of the Nature of Force.  
IF nothing in the World is more Bloody and Cruel, than Victory, there is not any thing more Splendid and Glorious. All Orators are busied in making its Panegyric, and those persons that are so lavish in their Praises, would be very barren and narrow in their Expressions, if they had no Battles to relate of, no Overthrows to describe, nor Triumphs to proclaim. Conquerors look upon it as the fruit of their Travels, they speak of it as the Masterpiece of their Courage, and of a good they bring clear away from their Enemies, through their Prudence and Conduct. Politician's consider it as the support of States, the glory of their Army, the defence of their Frontiers, and as the inhancement of their Reputation, and Wealth. But as this advantage is Pompous, so it is difficult to acquire, to deserve the name of Victorious, we must engage ourselves in Wars, expose our persons to infinite Dangers, and abandon to the Discretion of Fortune, both our Liberty and Life.  
Now Force and Magnanimity surmounts all these difficulties, it glories in seeking out the Enemy, in setting upon Afflictions, in faceing Death, and in making up to whatever appears Terrible in the world. I● we will credit a Roman Philosopher, it is a generous virtue exalting us beyond a capacity to ●ear: a Science that teaches us to beat back Dangers, contemn Travels, and provoke unto Sufferings and Calamities. For Evil is the object of this Noble Habitude, and it cannot be said to subsist in nature, if it has not Enemies to combat with, and Difficulties to conquer. Some have confounded Force with Valour, they have thought that Courage was reserved for Conquerors, and that one ought to be constantly in Battles, and gaining Kingdoms, to merit the name of Mighty and Victorious. But Certainly they have but imperfectly known the nature of Force; the most Glorious Actions are not always the most Dangerous. An affliction is often more difficult to get the master of, than an Enemy; and I question if a Man deserves not more to be Renowned for enduring Death with a firm resolution in his Bed, then for despising it in a Battle.  
Who is there but knows that the valour practised in Armies, is more ●ure and true in Beasts then in Men? that those of the Female kind are as capable of it as the Males? and that both of them do strive with as earnest a contention for the possession of a Meadow, as Kings do for the Conquest of a Nation? But there is this difference, that the force of Beasts is true and real, and that of Men ofttimes but in show and appearance, the one is Natural, the other is mixed with Artifice, the one purely regards Profit or Glory, the other engages us in Perils, but ●●ough the fear of Death, or apprel 〈◊〉 of the Poverty which threatens us. Who observes the addresses of Humane Valour, wilhite that it is but a Sage dejection and weakness of mind that foresee the Danger, so as to avoid it, that overcomes one Passion by another, and that suffers one Mischief to secure himself from a greater. To what purpose serve the managing of Horses, and the Hall of Arms, but to teach us how to turn tail with a good Grace, and to become an honourable Coward? there's no doubt but a Shop-prentice might overcome the most Courageous, if that Valour consists in taking his time, keeping himself in Posture, and in observing all those rules that teach us to beat back our Adversary. But true Valour despises Artifice, it considers it to be the evil, but not the means of escaping, and it is as little accustomed to ward off Blows as to fear them. The Lacedæmonians have banished all masters of Arms out of their States, and chose rather to be redevable for their victory to Nature, than Industry. There is none but will commend the valour of that person who dares engage with a Bear, cope with a Lion, and grapple with a wild Boar that is coming with full force and power upon him; because Art and Cunning has no part in this combat, but he makes an absolute Exposal of himself to the fury of his enemy.  
As Valour rejects all craft, 
Validum quid est veritas. & dolus imbecilis ubi.  so it is an enemy to all Circumventions; it will not have a victory that shall be Dishonourable, it fancies it derogates from its Grandeur when it has recourse to Fraud for the obtaining of it. 
Que. Theophilac. ad luc. 12.  It hopes to conquer, as soon as it begins its combats by Counsel & Arms, and looks upon itself inferior to its Adversary, to make use of Stratagems to subdue him. Fraud is a discovery of weakness, and we must confess ourselves conquered when we are fain to use shameful means to arrive at our designs.  
If Force should be without disguise, 
Fortitude est virtus justa contemnens: aut Scientia periculorum repellendorum, ex●●piendorum, provocan. lorum.  and if it should contemn those low subtleties that may give it advantage, it is also necessary that it should be illuminated in its Conduct, that it should know the danger it has to surmount the difficulties that may hinder its Victory, and that it find out ways of vanquishing, or at least diverting them. For Force is not a blind Temerity that loves danger, or that engages its self in it, but upon necessity; but a Science that teaches us to distinguish Evils, 
Sense. de ●●n●fic. lib, 2. cap. 34.  to separate them from their contrary, and to prefer the imaginary and apparent ones to those that are effectual and true. That Man is not to be accounted valiant, that's pushed on by the violence of his Choler, or relying upon the strength of his body, praecipitates himself into dangers, and seems to be afraid of nothing, only because he would be thought above the power of being frighted and shaken; but well may he, who, knowing the evil, and abhorring it, does yet attack it with Courage, and put himself in a posture of giving it a Repulse, according as it needs, and the occasion will suffer him.  
A valiant Man's engagements ought also to be Just, he should not fight but for the defence of Equity, and he should rather regard the subject of his Erterprises, than their recompense. Victory is not always the reward of Valour, the most Courageous are generally the most unfortunate, and ofttimes they are forced to yield to their Enemies, who have neither their conduct nor courage. To teach us that true Valour resides in the heart, that it is rather a product of the Soul than Body, and that he may call himself no longer Victorious, then whilst he is braving of Dangers, despising Death, and making head to his Enemies.  
From all that has been said, it is easy to infer that force as well as what accompanies it, is obtained for Pleasure, that it does not give Battles but to obtain it, that it is as well its end as its recompense, and that it never attacques Troubles but to procure us Pleasure. For Evil is odious, it shocks our inclinations instead of drawing them, and we should never resolve to destroy it, if we did not promise to ourselves joy and satisfaction from the Defeat, Death is the terriblest of all evils, it makes a separation between the Soul and Body, it breaks the most strict and perfect Friendships that ever were in the world, and taking upon it the state of a Sovereign, it brings down the goodliest works of Nature to the Dust and nothing. This snatches the dear Wise from the arms of her most affectionate Husband, robs the Father of his 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  only Son, and brings sadness into Families, and desolation into Kingdoms. But, have we overcome the fear of Death, then will this Monster appear to us as a favour from Heaven, and we shall look upon it as a way that leads us to Felicity. Our Repose begins from its contempt, and we derive our Pleasure and Contentment from having obtained a pre-eminence over an enemy that triumphs over Victors and Conquerors.   

The Second Discourse;  
That the sufferings of Martyrs are mingled with abundance both of Profit and Pleasure.  
THose that are Idolisers of their bodies, and think they offend a Divinity when they do any thing to hurt them, cannot be persuaded that Parricide can be innocent among Christians; that a Man may lawfully conspire against his own person, and expose his life for the glory of his Creator. They condemn all those of Simplicity and Folly, who render themselves up to this Generous Passion, and who abandon themselves to Executioners upon the hopes of Recompense. What, say they, is God become a Tyrant, since he has sent his Son upon the Earth? has he, who has Saved us, now a design to Destroy us? and will he have us die because he has given us our lives? he suffered for all Men, his Death procures their Happiness, and we but unprofitably aspire to be Martyrs, since he has expiated upon the Cross all our Offences by the sacrifice of himself. God is not delighted with Cruelty, he refuses the blood of Bulls and Goats, and he is satisfied when he finds Repentance in our hearts, and hears his Praises in our mouths.  
These Reasons, 
Sapi●ntia immo lavit victimas suas, vel fi ios suos, Sapi●nter jugulavit in vitam, & 〈…〉. advers Gnosticos.  though they have some semblance of Truth, only content base and abject Spirits, who have a horror for all things that may incommode them, and who reject the Martyr, because they know not his advantages and his pleasure. But those, brought up in the school of the Son of God, know that Martyrdom is a favour and not a cruelty, that if he is bleeding, yet he is dutiful, that he comes to help our weaknesses, that he wounds us but to heal us, and that he does not give us death, but to lead us to a life of Immortality. Tyrant's are the Ministers of Heaven, the blood they draw from our Veins, open to us the Gates thereof, and makes us enter into it with violence. Also God proposes Martyrdom to us under the name of a Combat, that so we may vanquish the Daemon that has overcome us, beat down him that has defeated us, and cause Glory to succeed Infamy and Servitude. Virtue is the Dispensatrix of Honour, she distinguishes the orders of the Happy, separates the Widows from the Virgins, and establishes the Martyrs in a throne above the Confessors. But where should be this diversity, if there was an equality of Merits in Heaven? and how would these Stars differ between themselves, if they had all one and the same beauty and lustre? Preference is the mark of Merit, not to be obtained but by Force and Sufferings, Life must be despised here on earth, if we will pretend to enjoy an honourable place in Heaven. So that Martyrdom is an ingenious Tyrant that kills us to save us, and an innocent Crime, that o'rwhelms us with Confusion, to crown us with Glory.  
If we will believe Tertullian, it is an obliging Cruelty that tears away our life to give it us again, that despoils us to make us Rich and that, making us to be the imitators of the Son of God, assures us to have a part in his felicity. In short, Tyrants rather deserve the name of Benefactors, than Enemies, since they oblige in persecuting us, and it is more for our advantage to have their hatred, than their kindness and their promises. For all the cruelty they can invent conspires to our happiness; Torments stifle our Passions, flames kindle our Charity, their rage is the beginning of our Merit, and carries us up to Heaven to receive its recompense. From thence it is that we call the passion of Martyrs their birthday, because it engenders them to Life, in engaging them to Death, and causes them to begin an Eternity, in ending their miserable life.  
But that which still he igntens the glory of Martyrs, and renders their death more Illustrious, is, that they seem to add a perfection to the passion of Jesus Christ, and to end what he begun on the Cross. 
Ad impleo ●a quae desunt passionum Christi in came meâi. St. Paul. ad Colloss. cap. 1.  St. Paul presumed to boast of this honour, he was assured that his afflictions were the accomplishment of his torment, and that his dejections and his miseries derived their Eulogies from his sufferings. He knew his actions were valuable only from the motives that begat them, that his passion might dispute pre-eminence with his, since the cause of it was more Noble and Lofty. St. Paul suffered for Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ suffered but for the World. St. Paul was persecuted for his Saviorus sake, but the Son of God endured death for the sake of Rebels. St. Paul combated for the glory of his Master, and Jesus Christ was exposed to infamy and death to give liberty to Slaves. 
Cicatrices illae utique invidiosae apud Christum. Ter. lib. de pudicit.  Tertullian likewise, whose Sentences are so Pompous, and weighty, has said, the passions of Martyrs might be desired by those in Bliss, that the Son of God might wish for them in Heaven, and that their wounds were capable of making him jealous, if he was susceptible of this passion.  
Then if Sufferings are so advantageous to Martyrs, they are not sure less agreeable to them, if they exercise their Courages, they charm their Wills, and if they cause pa●n and anguish in their Bodies, they fill their Souls with delights and pleasures. 
G●udent pati●ntes Apostoli, quia fidentes passion●s ad voluntatem Dei pertinere. Ter. lib. advers. Gnosticos.  They rejoice in the midst of Torments, because they rest upon their Sovereign's word, whom they know is as true as he is powerful, and that he who is a spectator of their combat, will be the glory and recompense of it. They know that what they endure, is nothing comparatively to what they hope for, that their Pain is short, and their happiness will be Eternal; that their torments are not of many moment's continuance, and the reward they look for, will be more lasting than all the Ages yet to come. This hope relives their Courage, charms their Griefs, confirms their Constancy, and renders them Victorious in the midst of all their afflictions. This pleasure than must needs be mighty, since it works such strange Effects, and makes these Champions contemn all the sentiments of Nature. For as if Pleasure had enchanted their minds, they still are preferring Infamy to Honour, they go into Prisons as into places of safety, they receive Stripes as favours, they are thankful to those Executioners that tear them in pieces, lie down on burning Coals as on beds of Roses, and with joy they suffer the plucking out of their Eyes, cutting off their Arms, and the distilling of their Bodies drop by drop upon flaming Coals. The grace that works all these Miracles, is a charm that elevates their minds, increases the strength, excites their courage, and causes them without Pain, to triumph over the cruelties of their Tormentors, over the malice of Demons, and over the extremity of their Tortures.  
Though the quality of a Martyr be so Illustrious, and that Almighty God hath reserved it for these Heroes whom he has brought into the world, to make his Power be admired and dreaded; yet notwithstanding all the Faithful may acquire it, every Christian is permitted to be his own Executioner, and without swerving from his duty, to be his own Tyrant and Persecuter. 'tis not a small torment for a Man to conquer his Passions, to pacify his Choler, to put out those impure Flames that consume him, to bring down and humble his Pride, and to stifle in his breast the desire of Riches and Honours. It is not the shedding of Blood only that completes Martyrdom, other Evils dispute this glory with it, and that person may very well boast his being in the List and Number of Martyrs, that afflicts his Body, that contends with Infamous Pleasures, that patienly suffers Pains and Miseries, and that readily submits himself to that Justice that punnishes him.   

The Third Discourse.  
That Patience conceals a real Joy under apparent Miseries.  
IF Patience be not the most attractive and glorious of Virtues, it is that which is most necessary; it gives Life to all the other, it assists them in their Erterprises, and those that cause Wonders in the world would be unprofitable or languishing, were they not aided by the power of this. Faith, which is the Basis of Religion, and which leads our mind to the first Truth, owes its discoveries to Patience; the Patriarches became faithful in suffering, and those Men, whose memory is so sacred to us, would have been unknown in the world, had they not purchased their Faith by their Travels. Hope charms Afflictions by her presence, and enjoys in some measure, the happiness she wishes for when she attends it with Resignation. Charity is grounded upon constancy, she has all her beauty and merit from it, and one may assure themselves of her faithfulness when she surmounts the difficulties that combat with her. Repentance slackens, when deprived of her company, and easily falls under the weight of its afflictions, when it is destitute of her succour. Chastity is indebted to her for her Glory, she only by her favour and indulgence triumphs over her Enemies, and 'tis not somuch an effect of Modesty as Patience, when she resists the weaknesses of the body, or rejects the shameful solicitations of the dissolute and wanton. So that Patience is the perfection of Virtues; and to possess it, is sufficient to make one Just and Faithful, Chaste and Penitent.  
But as Religion and a Holy life is almost continually miserable, and Calamities seem to be annexed to Virtue, its spectators have a horror for it, those who revere it, eat it likewise, and judging of its worthiness by outward appearances, they do suspect it of Hypocrisy or Superstition. It is a hard thing to make them believe that Man, whom Almighty God loves, should be the object of his wrath, that he should persecute an Innocent instead of obliging him, that he should turn his love into cruelty, and only heap up miseries and afflictions upon him, whom he consigns for happiness in Heaven. 
Superabundo gaudio in omni tribulatione nostrâ. St Paul. 2 ad Cor. cap. 7.  But those who are brought up in the school of Piety, know that the suffering of the Righteous are but in appearance, that their representation takes away their nature, and that they have nothing less than what they make the greatest outward show of. The wise Man glories in his afflictions, and terms those favours which others possibly call by disgraceful Appellations. That holy pride he discovers in his actions, and that Joy which almost continually possesses his countenance, is an evidence of the Tranquillity of his mind; Tempests do not disturb his repose, and he seems to be never more unshaken, then when most of all he is tossed up and down. All things have their changes in Nature, and those bodies which are so necessary to the Conservation of others have their Vicissitudes and their Periods. The Earth does tremble under our feet, and the Fire or Wind which moves its Bowels, puts divisions between its parts. The Sea is an image of inconstancy, it is scarce ever at quiet with its self, whether the Moon causes the motion of its Waters, or whether it be the Winds which it conceals that stir it, it never holds long in one and the same posture. The Sun has its Eclipses, and that Planet which is the parent of Life, is sometimes reduced to a Disappearance and an Agony. The Seasons of the Year are not always equal, if there be some fruitful Summers, there be those likewise that are Sterile and barren, and if there be very sharp and severe Winters, there are some also so mild, that they resemble the pleasantness of the Spring. We have never yet beheld any thing constant in the world, all that appears in it dissolves its self, and one need not much to wonder at it, since even the same principles that make them submit, conspires likewise to their ruin.  
But the Joy of a wise Man is stable and permanent, it is as equal in all Disasters, as in Prosperity; if that Accidents approach him, he is not much concerned, and what violence soever they exercise upon his Person, they do not so much move his Courage, as they strengthen and confirm it. He resembles those Stars that never change their lustre, but are as bright in the most Tempestuous as in the clearest and calmest nights, and which abate nothing of their beauty though they are berounded with Clouds and foggy Exhalations. Nothing is capable to trouble his repose but Sin, he looks upon Health and Riches, no otherwise then as goods that do not concern him, and as he does establish all h●● happiness in himself, so he derives the greatest part of his glory from their contempt and slight, Let Fortune force his Riches from him, let it reduce him to his Scrip and Wallet, and oblige him to beg his Bread at the gates of those that have been his Servants, he knows his Treasures are hid in Heaven, and that it is not in the possibility of Mankind to take them from him. Let a Tyrant banish him out of his Country, let him separate him from his parents and kindred, he has this assurance in him to meet with one more happy and glorious in Heaven, and there to have God for his Father, the Saints for his Brethren, and Angels for his Friends. Let Injustice condemn him to the Prison; and load his body with heavy chains and shackles, he knows his Soul has ample liberty, that it can get through Iron-gates and Chink-holes, and that all the diligence of jailers can never keep it from ascending up to Heaven. Let cruel Executioners dismember him by piece-meals, and tear away his life by exquisite tortures, he knows his body shall resume its former order, that he shall rise again with the Happy, and that Glory shall be the recompense of all his sufferings and afflictions.  
Who questions but that a Man is filled with Joy, 
Maior est re●●ibutio L●gen●is  when he does conquer such cruel enemies, and that it is Patience that renders him victorious over Misery, 
quam pauperis & mitis: plus enim gaudere in R●gno quam habere. St. Tho. Clo. sup. Mat.  Captivity, Sufferings, and Death. Virtue is inseparable from Pleasure, the evils which attack it were never yet capable to part them, but she is happy though judged most miserable. Those who fly from Affliction, very much resemble those Children who are terribly frighted with the sight of those they love, because they have got Vizards on, and not considering their persons, mind nothing but the Visage, which makes them tremble. Miseries are no otherwise then imaginarily Austere, they conceal the Pleasure under an appearance of Evil, and he is unacqainted with their merit, who looks upon 'em but as the enemies of his happiness. Infamous pleasures convert themselves into torments, and our nature must needs be under a great depravation, not to be sensible of their afflicting circumstances. But the Christian makes Sufferings become pleasurable, he esteems himself happy when he is accounted worthy to suffer any thing for his Saviour, and Patience animating him for enduring, gives him a fore●ast of that Joy he looks for in Heaven.  
When the Son of God sent His Apostles to the Conversion of the World, he called them his Sheep, and said He was their good Shepherd, he would have them receive this Mission as a favour, and not as they were for it so much redevable to their Merit as to his Goodness and Bounty. Yet notwithstanding he sent these Sheep among Wolves, he exposed them to the unmerciful fury of Tyrants, he promised them nothing but 
* des Croix.  Deaths and Tortures, and to encourage them in this office, he assured them that the executing it would cause the loss both of their Honour and their Lives. To teach us that persecution is not without its delights, that Miseries are the nourishment of the faithful, that Torments keep virtue alive, and in breath, and that Infamy makes up the happiness of those that are miserable.   

The Fourth Discourse.  
That there is satisfaction in supporting one's self up under the deformities of the body.  
What invectives soever have been made against the beauty and comeliness of the Body, and whatever Reasons have been deduced from the writings of Philosophers to abase its Pride; it has been yet impossible to persuade the Women that it is dangerous, and that that which does appear as a Divinity to our Eyes, can be destructive and pernicious to Humane society. They have recourse to the commendations of their Idolaters to authorise its Empire, they say that it is an Emanation of the Soveraign-Good, it is the beginning of Love, and it has never yet met with any other enemies in the world, than those that are bizarre and blind. The Law allows its address, and obliges us in some measure to prefer Beauty to Deformity; if we will believe Plato who was its Panegyrist, Love is not happy, but because she is the object of its entertainment, and does pleasantly flatter the Senses by insinuating its self into the mind. 
Specios as personas accipere deb●mus Clarissimas u●riu●que Sexûs. lib. 100 〈◊〉. de ve●bor, sig●i●.   
But what praises soever may be given to Beauty, we must acknowledge that it is not without its blemishes and imperfections, and that the Philosophers were not altogether void of Reason, when they many times preferred even unhandsomness to its perfections. For not to instance that it is a frail gift of nature, which decays with time, deceives its admirers, and is in the power of the least Distemper to do it outrage: besides how it is fain to borrow the greatest part of its Charms from the opinion of the beholders, that its Puissance is malignant, that it makes impression only upon the purblind, and its possession is not so much a true, as it is an imaginary good. It persecutes the Subject whose glory herself is, and as if It had conjured his ruin, it troubles his repose, robs him of the greatest part of his life, and fills him with thoughts only after infamous or criminal things. It is an Enemy that accompanies him wherever he goes, that torments him in his retreat as well as in public, and that after it has hoodwinked his ●yes, will not suffer him to discern between truth and falsehood, nor to distinguish the vice that flatters him, from the virtue he ought to aspire to. Also those who are acquainted with its vanity, with satisfaction suffers its loss, and no whit are troubled to be deprived of an Ornament so prejudicial to their felicity. They judge their body ought to be without attraction, since it is the vilest part of them, every day tending towards Corruption, and that it is but justice it should be humbled, since it was born to obey.  
Reason is Man's only good, it is an advantage that he can dispute with all other creatures, and he may esteem himself happy, being reasonable. Beauty is a stranger to it, that gives place to Flowers and Birds, and we see even Infects dispute it with the most charming and powerful Beauties on Earth. As Homeliness is a remedy against Love, it puts out, and extinguishes Concupiscence, and by a wretched kind of happiness, makes us often disesteem those persons we cannot affect without doing violence to ourselves. The deformity of the body is not an enemy to the beauty of the mind, the most precious things are ordinarily such as are most hidden, and they are most valuable from the obscurity of the places where they lie in. Pearls are shut up in shells of Fishes, Crystal is buried in stones and Rocks, Gold is locked up in the barren ground, and the Earth produces nothing that is choice and curious, but what is emboweled in Dirt and Filth. The mind is ofttimes retired under a frightful deformity, and if we will take Antiquity for our warrant, the subtle Philosophers have made their Wisdom shine forth through the casements of most dreadfully hideous and deformed Bodies. He, who made the Beasts to speak, and who in one little Volume has coutched up all humane policy, was a Monster in appearance, and approached nearer the shape of a Bear then of a Man, and if his Reason should not have broke forth at his tongue, he might have been taken for the debauch of a disorderly Father.  
It does not depend upon us to be Handsome, but it is in our power to be good; Honesty is fixed to our will, and whatever defects may happen to our bodies, they cannot hinder us from being virtuous. That person who does aspire to this glorious Title, can easily laugh at the advantages of the body, and as he knows that the mind is above that gross and heavy lump, he contemns its imperfections, that he may seek his Sovereign. We have beheld some Virgins, who have disfigured their Fa●es to conserve their Chastity, and have chosen rather to make themselves hated by Men, then to get them be their humble Servants. If Nature has rendered us deformed, it has delivered us from this trouble, it was willing to be herself the Tutoress of our virtue, and to learn us Purity by depriving us of the means that might put it into hazard. It is always less glorious to be born Beautiful then to become so; since the one is only the work of Fortune, but the other is the production of our Industry, the one comes to us without any trouble, 
In Galham 〈◊〉 Eloquentia 〈◊〉, sed gibb● deform●m ita Lusit Laeli●●, ut dic●r●t i●ge●ium Gal●ae ma●è habitare.  the other is only valuable from the choice of our will. Virtue has the pre-eminence of Fortune, it does not relieve us from its empire, but it deserves as much respect in a diseased body, as in one that is sound and healthy. Laelius his raillery was unjust, when he said that the wi● of Galba was ill-lodged, since the house contributed nothing to the glory of its Host, and as a Robust and strong Man may come out of a sorry Cottage, so may a frail and deformed Body contain in it a firm and generous Mind. 
Thrin. i● Ap●fg.   
Wholly to be fastened to the Body, is to become too sensual, and to value one's self only upon these vain appearances which can do nothing but arrest our Eyes. Virtue stands in no need of Ornaments, it is August and splendid in what place soever it is to be beheld, and it is to be ignorant of its Merit to think it can borrow any perfections from the beauty of so vile a matter.  
Blindness seems to be most insupportable, and a Man may be said to be reduced to his last misery when he has lost the use of his Sight. What pleasure can it be for him to live in the world when the light does not affect his Eyes when he sees no Stars but in imagination, when his days are confounded with his nights, when the Sun warms him, but not enlightens him, and when more unfortunate than Moles and 〈◊〉, he sees as little in darkness as he does in the noonday-light. And yet there have been Men that have preferred Blindness to Sight, and who have looked upon it as a means that leads to wisdom. They have been persuaded that being not able to see Heaven, they could more freely contemplate upon its Creator, that this exchange was more advantageous to them, since they did cease from beholding these created things, to entertain themselves with the Sovereign of the world. They had questionless learned by experience that Folly is the Regent Queen of the world, that all one meets with in it, is nothing but Extravagance, and that it is a kind of Consolation not to be obliged to consider those actions which shock the maxims of Reason. Who knows not that vices have their rise from the Eyes? and that they would have a long time been banished from the Earth, if they had not been conserved in it by their means. Covetousness would never make Men fordid, but that they discover to them the pomp and splendour of Riches, and make them believe there is a world of satisfaction in keeping the preciousest of Metals close prisoners in their Coffers. Impurity steals in its poison throw the looks, and Women could never make the hearts of Men their captives, if the eyes did not plead the cause of the most fair and charming. Envy has its beginning from the Eyes, and could never torment the base and unworthy, but that the Sight furnishes them with occasions for their torture. In short, most Sins would not have the vogue and suffrage of Mankind, were they but blind; and they would be obliged to acknowledge the mercifulness of Nature, for having deprived them of a good which is the beginning of all their evils.  
It cannot but be a great satisfaction to be delivered from those things that are prejudicial to us, to be disengaged from any farther concern with those guides that have betrayed us, and to have the loss of those lights that have led us into places of darkness. Virtue has no need of light to produce its self, and if we will believe the Poets who have described them, even the most excellent among them all are blind. Faith sees not but by the Ears, Hope has no other Organs but the Hands. Love knows nothing but by the means of the Heart; and if Justice its self had eyes, they ought to be hard bound down with a fillet, to oblige its Lovers to despise the things of the Earth, and to exalt their thoughts to those of Heaven. If Nature has deny●d us the use of Sight, it is tomake us of the household of God, to rank us in the number of the Virtuous, and to make us partakers of the glory of happy Souls.    

THE FIFTH TREATISE. OF JUSTICE.  

The First Discourse.  
Of the Nature of Justice.  
THe profane Historians never give us more pleasing Charms, then in their descriptions of the Golden Age, and in making us to see the innocence and pleasure of that happy State. If we will take their words, the Earth was a Mansion of Delights, it produced all things without the trouble of Cultivation, the Laborers did not rip up its Entrails to get its nourishment from it, and it was so orderly and regular in its works, that it satisfied their necessities according to the Seasons of the year. Temperance was so natural to its Inhabitants, that they took for favours whatever the Sun and the Rain gave unto them; Their productions made them neglect the creatures of the Field, and they thought it a desilement to their Consciences to imbrue their hands in the blood of Innocents'. The waters of the Fountains supplied their thirst, and they as yet were unacqainted with that liquor which disturbs our Intellects, and makes those who drink of it to excess, become stupid or mad. All Men lived in a profound tranquillity; feuds and contentions had not as yet made a division in their Families, and as they were just in all their actions, they were fearless of Judges or Magistrates. Love had not yet corrupted their inclinations, they were faithful to their Wives as well as Children, and Adultery was as much abhorred by them, as Incest and Homicide. Every one observing the Laws of Nature was honest without Artifice, and as they never made any unjust Vows, so they were afraid of nothing to shock them.  
But as soon as this Community was driven out of the World, that Ambition succeeded Modesty, that the Rich made their attempts upon the goods of the Poor, and that Tyrants climbed over the heads of them that were their equals, it was then necessary for to have Laws found out, to conserve Right and Property to every one, and to maintain Humane society among so many divisions. So that Justice took its Origine from our disorders; and as first the Distempers ought to be known, before any suitable Remedies can be applied to them, so our outrages and irregularities have preceded our Laws, 
Justitia est per●etua & constans voluntas sus suum ●uique tribuendi lib. 10. de Just. & Jur.  and have obliged Men to make Edicts for their repression. For Justice according to our Civil Lawyers, is a constant and immutable Will of rendering to every one what of Right does belong to him: Or to speak more clearly, it is an Idea in the Soul, that prescribes things just, and forbids those that are dishonest. But as Self-love is the rule of that which we have for our Neighbour, this Virtue obliges us to begin at ourselves, every Man to be first equitable towards himself, and not to commit any thing that may trouble the repose of his Conscience. It would have reason to be our guide, and us to submit our passions to its conduct, and not to undertake any thing it does not command or approve of. It engages us to bring down our Flesh, to rebate its insolence, to submit it to the Judgement, and to keep it from such exorbitances that are disadvantageous to it. It teaches us to make our interest stoop to our duty, to prefer innocence to our Reputation, and more to be afraid of our own Conscience, than the presence of Judges and Sovereigns. It obliges us to be circumspect in what we choose, to make a good use of our Judgements to prescribe to us such objects as aught to employ them, and not to let them seduce us by their unfaithful relations.  
But as Man is not only born for himself, but Nature has allied him to his fellow creatures, and he ought to live in Community with them; Justice prescribes him different duties, and obliges him to satisfy every one of them according to his condition. It shows him the difference he ought to have for his Superiors, the love he should bear towards his Equals, and the Empire he ought to keep over those that are subject to him, the patience he should exercise towards his Enemies, the charity and consolation he ought to render to the Poor and Afflicted. From thence it came that a Philosopher did confound Justice with the other Virtues, and that he imagined it sufficient to be aquitable to become Prudent, Valiant, and Temperate. 'tis that wh●ch conserveses the harmony between the Soul and its faculties, which guides it in its operations, which submits the sensitive Appetite to Reason, and which shows to the will, the good it ought to choose, and the evil it ought to avoid. 'Tis that which procures the body health, which moderates the Elements that compose it, and that so exactly adjusts its parts that it causes the Astonishment of all its beholders. 'Tis that which governs the Universe, which gives Laws to Monarches, which maintains love between God and Man, and which obliges him to regard his Creatures as his Children, and them to revere God as their Sovereign. 'Tis that which continues Peace in Cities, which keeps Husband and Wife in perfect accord, which inspires that respect in Servants they owe unto their Masters, and which creates a union between People most remote and distant. The Master-Pyrates who live in a kind of War in the midst of Peace, and get their livelyhoods by the goods of their Neighbours, are constrained to keep it in their Thefts; and to be just in their distributions to their assistants. They hazard their lives every time they falsify their words, and withhold the recompense due to their toil & travel.  
But that which still advances the merit of Justice, and which exalts its Majesty, is that it imitates Almighty God in its procedure, that it admits of no distinction of Persons, and has as little consideration for Relations as Enemies. It would be thought to betray the truth it defends, if it loved the one and hated the other▪ or if it apportioned its favours with an inequality. It has a resemblance to the ●arth which upholds the Sick and Diseased as well as the Healthy, which nourishes he poor and oppulent, and which is as favourable to Salves, as to Princes and Monarches.  
It is not to be doubted but that a virtue so August and Splendid, should give a great deal of pleasure to the persons that possess it, and that labours to conserve Union and Peace among his fellow creatures. For what can stand in his way to oppose his happiness, who is right and at peace with God, who is afraid of none upon earth, and whose actions are above the surprises of his enemies. A Man esteems himself happy, so long as he lives honestly, that he gives offence to none, and that he renders to every one his proper due.   

The Second Discourse;  
That Piety has a respect to Pleasure as its last end.  
AS we have our Being from God, 
Totum quod est homo, & ●otum quod potest, & quod habet ordinandum est ad deum.  so we are redevable to him for all that we are. 'Tis to offend his Majesty to divide our affections, and to give to Creatures what is only due to their Sovereign. Love takes upon him the state of a Monarch, it suffers him not to have a companion in its Empire. But as Almighty God governs the World without any dependence, 
St. Thom. 1. 2. q. 2●.  so he has an absolute influence and regency over Man, who is the Epitome and contraction of it. He requires the affections of our hearts, because we are his Creatures, and obliges us to consecrate ourselves wholly to him, because he is the only good that can be our satisfaction and contentment. He looks upon him Adulterous, who inclines himself to profane objects, who quits Heaven to admire Earth, and who prefers a transient Beauty to that happiness he promises to those that love him.  
This Obligation seems but just and reasonable, since that God has no equal in the world, his Charity is infinite, his Power uncontrovable, and his Glory beyond both our Merits and Apprehensions. We must be ungrateful not to acknowledge his benefits, and doubt his greatness not to offer to him all its puissances. This Principle supposed that Almighty God is the Ultimate end of Intelligent Creatures, and that all our inclinations must terminate in him as in their Centre. If our love ought to be disinteressed, if all the movements of our hearts ought to be referred to him, and we ought purely to desire his Glory without any Reflections upon ourselves; who will presume to defend that Pleasure is the Term and Result of our actions, & that in loving God withal the extent and powers of our Soul, we may have designs for the Pleasure that we expect and wait for in Heaven?  
Never theless we must acknowledge that natural Piety is inseparable from this Sentiment, and Man never acts so purely, but has some respect to his own person. 
Laetentur omnes qui sperant in te, in aeternum exultabunt & habit abis in cis. Psa. 5.  The Scripture is pregnant with passages for the proof of this truth, which assures us that God is the Recompense of his Servants, that his favours are the motives of their affections, and they love him either because he has remitted their Sins, or made them to overflow with his Graces and benefits. Hope ofttimes causes the love of the Faithful; if they contemn hunger, suffer troubles and 〈◊〉, or expose themselves to death, 'tis because they know that Heaven shall give an end to their Miseries, that Life shall succeed Death, and that their Torments shall be changed into Ravishing Delights and Pleasures. If they exercise Charity, relieve the Poor, visit Hospitals, and enter into Prisons to get the miserable out of them, 'tis because they have regard to the Crown of Justice, which has been promised them from the beginning of the World. Christians are permitted to sigh after the Mansions of happy Souls, to have respect to those delights that wait for them in Heaven, and to desire to come to the enjoyment of Him whom they loved and served upon Earth.  
If 'tis objected that we are the Children of God, that the Eternal Father has admitted us into His family, and that it only belongs to Slaves and Hirelings to look for the price of their labours, we shall not offend the sentiments of Nature, if we say a Child loves his Father with so much the greater affection, as the favours he has received have been multiplied upon him, and as he promises himself after his death the possession of his Estate. A Slave would dispute this glory with him, had he but the same assurances from his Master, and possibly this Son, whose affections seem so sincere, would convert his love into hatred if his Father should drive him out of his house, and make a show of deputing another to be Heir in his place. In short, who would trouble himself with adoring God, if he did not take care of his creatures? why should we bestow on him our affections, since he neglects to take any cognisance of them? and why should we afflict our bodies, and curb our inclinations, and employ our whole life in the defence of his interests, if our combats were to have no rewards, and our victories no Laurels? Also Almighty God, who knows our weakness, and that we act but through interest, allures us by the hopes of Felicicy, he promises his glory to those who will keep his Commands, and he engages himself to make them partakers of his happiness. He assures his votaries that all the powers and faculties of their Souls shall be satisfied, that their understandings shall behold the truth of what they have believed, that their minds shall enjoy the good they have sought after, and that their memories shall be filled with the bounties they have been entertained withal, during the time of their residence upon Earth.  
But though we should have Sentiments sufficiently purified, as not to consider the glory that attends us in Heaven, that all our desires were terminated in God, and that we hoped for nothing from him, but only the honour of giving him our whole love, we could not deny but there was abundance of sweetness and contentment in this duty, that his commands are mixed with pleasures, and that He, who obliges us to render him our affections, does invite us to it by innocent and harmless Delights. He assures us that his Law is very agreeable, that there is great satisfaction in the doing of his Will, and that Peace and Glory ever do attend those who engage themselves in his service. The Charity he influences in our hearts, and the Grace whereby he prevents our desires, give a charm to the difficulties which are encountered by us, they make our Fear give place to Love, and thrust us on to embrace with eagerness and pleasure, that which Nature looks upon with horror. There is nothing able to Astonish us when we are seconded by his power, and can see him as Coadjutor in all the rencounters of our life.  
Martyrs do laugh at Tyrants, and contemn the cruelty of Butcherly executioners, when they are animated with his Spirit. They account their Punishments in the number of their greatest favours, and are so charmed with the pleasure it pours into their Souls, that they are often fearful, lest the mildness of their Passion should be a prejudice to their Merit. We see them likewise extended upon the Cross as upon a Throne, embracing their Tormentors as their Benefactors, acknowledging the indulgence of their Tyrants when they are sentencing them to death, and preferring the most violent Tortures to those that are most gentle and easy. 'Tis this same pleasure that takes away Children from the arms of their Parents, that makes them choose a Cloister, to be buried there alive, to be spoiled of their rich and costly Habits to cloth themselves with Cords and Sack-clothes, and to quit their delicate and sumptious Dishes only to feed upon Roots and Pulse. 'Tis this innocent satisfaction and pleasure that animates Christians against themselves, that obliges them to the mortifying of their bodies, to bring them unto the subjection of the mind, which stirs them up against their proper passions, and which forces them with much agreeableness to make an absolute and entire Sacrifice of themselves for the glory of their Redeemer.  
The Yoke of Jesus Christ is only uneasy to sinners, the hardness of their hearts makes the weight of it heavy to them, and they do not account his commands grievous, but because they are the vowed slaves of the Devil. But have they broken off with this enemy of Mankind, 
In eo quod amatu●, aut non laboratur, aut labor ●●se Amatur. August. de bo●. viduit.  has grace taken possession of their hearts, and are they left charmed by its attractions? then they perceive their Pains converted into Delights, what seemed before impossible to observe, appears now facile and easy, and they are amazed that they have stood out so long the bearing of a burden which gives them such Pleasure and Contentment. Love finds nothing difficult to be conquered, it charms the affliction that attacques it, and as if it had borrowed the secrets of Magic, it changes pains and miseries into very pleasing and agreeable Divertisments. It meets with sweetness in suffering, it treats its persecutors with the name of friends, and never reckons its self more happy than when it becomes passive for the cause that it reveres. It is delighted with difficulty, because it is a proof and trial of its Constancy, the labours and travel it endures, relieves its faithfulness, and the joy it looks for from its possession, shall complete and end its happiness.   

The Third Discourse.  
That Repentance is a chastisement very agreeable and advantageous.  
THere is no necessity at all to have a notable piercing and discerning judgement to find out that Sin is the greatest of all Evils, that it perverts the Nature, changes the Man to become bestial, and makes of a Child of God, the Slave of the Devil. Neither need we be learned in Theology, to know that Malice is prejudicial and bloody to the Soul, that it reduces it to nothing, and brings death to a Spirit that God hath made Immortal. Holiness, which is the form of it, quits it as soon as it receives this Monster, and makes a divorce with Grace, to fall into the embraces of its enemy. It's empire would be Eternal, if that Almighty God did not come to our succour, and furnish us with weapons to expel this Usurper. Oft by an excess of bounty, he adds his favours to our deliverance, and renders us happy after he has redeemed us from Servitude. For Repentance which abolishes our crimes, stifles our evil inclinations, and reinstates us into Grace and favour with our Maker, does contribute our felicity, and obliges us to call our faults happy ones, because it changes our Pride and Insolence into Modesty, causes innocence to succeed our malice, and equals our condition to that of the greatest things that ever have been upon the face of the Earth.  
The Holy Scripture observes none more famous then St. John the Baptist, according to its Language he was the greatest and most Holy of the Sons of Men, and though he was conceived in Sin, we have this assurance that he never bore the quality of a Criminal in the world. He was a Virgin to the death, and Impurity never made a breach upon his So●l. He was a Martyr, and lost his Head in the defence of Justice. He was an Anchorite, and past the greatest part of his life in Deserts. In short, He appeared as an Angel upon earth, and living amongst Men, he entertained himself with those in happiness. Repentance causes part of all these advantages unto Sinners; it changes their wantonness into continence, and teaches them to become Virgins after they have lost their Chastity. It makes them Martyrs, and causes them to feel the pains and miseries of those generous Champions, who are dead for the cause of the Son of God. It renders them Hermits in banishing them into Solitudes, and making them find a retreat in their Hearts in the midst of their Cumbers and troubles in the world. It exalts them to the quality of Angels, it teaches them Purity, sanctifies their dispositions, and gives them a foretaste of the pleasure of happy Souls.  
Though the Crime be always odious, and it is not permitted us to commit a fault that so we may reap advantage from it, yet it is certain Repentance gives a new birth to our former Virtue, derives good from our Sins, and adjoins a fresh sanctity to that which those had ravished from us. 
† S Math. cap. 9 v. 9  This Apostle, whose Avarice had fixed him to a table, who deceived almost all who came to him to enrich himself, who was reckoned as a public Robber, and who even sucked the blood of the poor by his extortions, has deserved the name of the first of the Evangelists, his penitence acquired him that honour, and he became as famous in merits, as he had been execrable in his usurious dealings. The Church Universal is redevable to his labours, his Writings are become her Oracles, she reveres all the words that are there recorded, and He, who was known for an Imposture among his Citizens, is become the assurance of the highest Mysteries of our Faith. His Repentance rendered him in some measure presumptuous, and made him aspire to a dignity which Faith and Hope could not dare to promise him.  
Who can believe Adam and Eve were Ambitious amidst their tears, and that those who had their Mouths open only to breath out sighs, who covered their shoulders with Sackcloth, who wet the Bread they did eat with their weeping, could have thoughts for grandeur? Yet those glorious Slaves had hankerings after Liberty, and remembering the honours they had lost, they essayed the utmost they could to recover them by their Repentance. The torments they exercised upon their bodies, the Sobs they sent from their hearts, made them hope to re-enter into their former Rights and Privileges; they assured themselves that Original Justice would follow their Repentance, and they should regain the good affections of that God whom unhappily they had offended. 
Consuevit Deus ho●o rare poenite●●es magis quam ●●nocentes P. Damian Serm. 56.  This Hope was not utterly Temerarious, since that Almighty God shows such favour and mercy to the Penitent, that he always hearkens to their Prayers, and does more usually honour the repenting then the innocent Person. When the Evangelists exhort us to appease divine Justice by grief and sorrow, and to punish upon our bodies the sin we have committed, he does not put us in the middle between Penitence and the Kingdom of Heaven, but inseparably unites this virtue to Glory, and seems to prefer the grace bestowed upon us through our Affliction, to that which we have conserved by our Innocence.  
But though Penitence should not work this Miracle, should add nothing to our first Grandeur, nor make us dispute with the Saints the qualities that render them famous in the Church, yet should we be obliged to acknowledge, that in remitting our sins, it puts us in a state above Calumny; and has freed us from the blame which consequently would have followed them. It makes us to hold up our heads in the midst of our enemies, renders us insensible of all their reproaches, and does not suffer us to pass for Criminals, though we have been culpable. Indeed it is to be unjust towards one's self to revive a Crime which we have washed away with our tears, and to refresh our memories with what God himself has passed over with forgetfulness. 'Tis to be severely malicious to ourselves to rip up a fault which divine Justice has abolished and cancelled, and to give an infamous name to that which has left off being in Nature.  
There is nothing more dreadful then to fall into the hands of the Son of God, the Scripture speaks of Him, as of an inexorable Judge, and as if it had a mind to enhance and amplify the severity of his decrees; it gives him all the qualities that may render him Rigorous. It calls him a living God when He punishes the guilty, and as if his justice exceeded his mercy, and that he was more set upon the chastising of Offences, then recompensing good works, it says he acts freely, that he is the absolute Master of his Creatures, that his Power is above all their Laws, and that he follows no other motions then those of his will in the exercise of his Justice: Yet his rigour does not extend its self but to actual faults, 
Discedite à me qui operamini iniquitat●m. Math. 7.  it condemns only those who persevere in wickedness, who seek still to offend him after death, and who still keep affections for Sin, though they are under a state of Disability to commit it. He will not be manful of past faults, for fear of being injurious to Penitence, and of reviving those offences which Grief has detested, Tears washed away, and Punishments abolished. From thence is it that the Prophet Esaias promises those who subdue and mortify the Body, and who by Repentance appease the anger of God whom they have provoked, that their sins shall be changed from their nature, they shall become white as Snow, and soft as Wool, and what ought to tumble them down to Hell, shall raise them up among the Blessed. For as all things cooperate to the good of those that love God, their Malice shall be turned into Piety, their sins which merited eternal Punishments shall bring upon them as Ample Recompenses, and Grace taking away what was horrible in them, makes thereof the occasion of their Felicity and Glory.  
There is no person but receives an extreme Joy and satisfaction when he finds himself clear from Servitude, that his Tyrants cease to persecute him, his vices are vanishing, and Innocence taking new possession in his heart. Who does not leap with joy when he sees his Safety arise from his Ruin? his Miseries to be the cause of his Happiness? and that his crimes which rank him in the number of those to be reproved, crown him in Heaven? Penitence still produces these wonders in the Church, and animating Sinners against themselves, it gives them a blessedness in Heaven, after it has made them Martyrs, and Anchorites, Virgins and Angels upon Earth.   

The Fourth Discourse.  
That Friendship augments the happiness of a wise Man.  
THe wise Man now is become so advanced above the dominion of Fortune, and the virtue which causes his happiness, is so little depending upon its empire, that he may very well glory in the contempt of all its favours. The brightness of Honours, the Pomp of Riches, the charms of Pleasures and Delights no whit concern him, and if at any time they strike his Imagination, they have never power to imprint themselves upon his Will. He is content with those Goods Nature has given him for his own, all his Glory springs from his advantages, and he esteems himself a happy Man so long as he has the liberty to converse with himself. But yet he does not reject the conversation of a Friend, the severity of his disposition does not render him rude, and Savage, and though he be satisfied with his own perfections, he will avow that the company of a person he honours, may enlarge and heighten his Happiness.  
Indeed nothing seems more profitable in the World, than I●riendship; 'tis the bond of Nature, the support of Humane Society, the sweetness of Life, and the most reasonable Pleasure we meet with here below. Nothing is more essential unto Man then Unity, 'tis the difference that separates him from all those of his Species, and according to the Language of Logicians, it ceases to subsist in the world as soon as it is confounded in their Community. And yet does Friendship every day overthrow this principle, it unites the Souls of those who are in Love one with another, distance of places does not hinder their approaches, and we may affirm they are inseparable though they are at a great remoteness each from other. Their number does not at all combat with their unity, 
In Societate & communion● posita est Amicitia. Arist Mor. lib. 8. c. 12.  and they do but one and the same thing, though they be of different Natures. Though their Riches do replenish their outward Man, yet have they no assured Master, those that share in their friendship, may pretend some kind of right in them, and presume to dispose of that which their affection has acquired to them. Their goods and their evils are common, what wounds the one grieves the other, and their Wills are in so strict a union, that even one and the same thing does equally both rejoice and afflict them.  
They are ignorant what Dissimulation is, their words are the interpreters of their thoughts, their Heart makes its residence upon their Tongue, and if they but conceal the minutest secrets to themselves, they believe that they betray that Virtue which unites them. Some have (most unwisely) thought that Friendship was the only consolation of reasonable and intelligent Creatures, that Darkness was preferable to its absence, and that they ought rather to desire they might be deprived of the light of the Sun, then to live and not be Friends. The malice of an Enemy may render them blind, Justice may banish them into obscure holes, and bury them quick under Earth. But Miseries can make friends flock together, they support and stay themselves in what place soever they find them, the diversity of their conditions does no whit alter their Virtue, but they do cherish them under misfortunes as well as in prosperity.  
What is there can befall a Man more to his heart's desire, then to have a confident to whom he may discover his thoughts? who knows his Secrets are safe in his breast, who less fears his friend's Conscience then his own, and who is assured that he as much interesses himself in his disgraces as happiness.  
Yet we meet with but a few of this sort of People in the World, and I dare affirm, it is long since that true affection has been banished from it, Orestes and Pylades are dead, and those who would succeed them to this day, are no otherwise then Apes and Imitators. Flattery now among us, keeps the place of sincere and loyal Friendship, and that Person seems to enter farther into our Interests, who can best accommodate himself to our Inclinations. As Vices are ingenious, 
Adulatio quam similis est Amicitiae, non imitatur tantumillam sed vincit & Praeterit. Sen, Epist. 45.  they are brought in among us under the guise of Virtue. Fear imitates Prudence, Temerity takes upon it the name of Valour, and Avarice covers itself under the mantle of Oeconomy; Flattery borrows the attractions of Friendship, it insinuates itself into the souls of those that hearken to it, and renders itself so much the more agreeable as the Venom that it infuses into it is dangerous. It is hard to know an enemy that carries himself towards us with an obliging respectfulness, and who makes it the greatest part of his study to please us. The Praises they give us are always dear and charming to us, we easily swallow the belief that we are Virtuous, that Honesty is born with us, and that Prudence is familiar and at home in us, and that no person comes near us but is sensible of our liberality, though we know their words belly their thoughts, and our Conscience reproaches us for our Injustice, our Indiscretion, and our Avarice.  
Fatterers, who may very well be called the Impostors and Pests of Humane Society, have corrupted even the justest Men, and have in sinuated into their hearts both Insolence and Presumption. Princes, who have harkened to them, have ofttimes changed their Empire into Tyranny, and engaging themselves in unprofitable Wars, have hazarded their Persons and their States. They have broken the Peace that was necessary to the conservation of their Subjects, they have attacked enemies, whom Policy has obliged them to respect, and have yielded themselves rather to be overcome, then forbear pursuing their Erterprises. To Conclude, the Flatterer is a Devil that troubles the Soul of all those he approaches, that disposes of their Wills, and inspires them but with the motion of Pride and Vanity. But the true Friend is Sincere in his words, he discovers his Sentiments without Constraint, he regards the Advantage of him He loves, and not his Pleasure and Satisfaction; and he should think himself unworthy of that name he bears, if he should rather have a consideration for his Fortune then his Person; He should believe he defended his faults, if he permitted them; and did render himself responsible for all the mischiefs that befell him, if He did not oblige him to follow Reason rather than the motions of that passion which possesses him.  
As he is a faithful councillor of the person he loves, and interesses himself wholly in his happiness; he rejects not his Advice, but becomes without trouble his Disciple after he has been his Director: and receives his Advertisments with the same tranquillity and ease of mind, as he had given them to him. From thence it is that Friendship is not found but among the Good, and there is nothing but Virtue can make one Soul pass into two different Bodies.  
As Love according to Plato, 
Ve●a Amicitia tantum inter bo●os prosicit, inter Optimos consummatur. Cassiod. Sup. Psal.  is the bond of the Universe, and causes that good Intelligence to arise, which is observed in each of its parts; Friendship has not its subsistence but through Virtue, it derives all its Glory from its Merit, and ceases being True as soon as it leaves off further Converse with it. The Ancients, whose Ignorance and Infidelity had buried them in darkness, had of it but an imperfect shadow, and the cause of its birth, being wanting to them, they could never engage themselves but into affections that were Illegitimate. But as soon as the Eternal Wisdom dissipated their darkness, that Faith began to cast its beams into their hearts, Friendship was reestablished in the World, Men lived in a Community, their thoughts were no more divided than their goods, and all agreeing in one and the same Principle, they discovered in their Republic the image and representation of an Eternal Peace. So that Virtue is the soul of Friendship, it is requisite that the knot which unites the Hearts should be sacred, and derive its Force from Piety, to become True and Real.  
FINIS.