MORAL GALLANTRY. A Discourse, Wherein the Author endeavours to prove, that Point of Honour (abstracting from all other ties) obliges men to be Virtuous.  
And that there is nothing so mean (or unworthy of a Gentleman) as Vice.  
By Sir George Mackenzie.  Seneca. Though God could not know, nor men would not punish Vice, yet would I not commit it, so mean a thing is Vice. 
EDINBURGH, Printed for Robert Broun, and are to be sold at his Shop, at the Sign of the Sun, on the North side of the Street, a little above the Cross, Anno Dom. 1667.   

TO HIS GRACE JOHN EARL OF ROTHES, His Majesty's High Commissioner, Lord high Chancellor, Lord Precedent of His Majesty's Exchequer and Council, and General of His Majesty's Forces in Scotland, etc.  
May it please your Grace,  
MY obligations to you are such, as may excuse real passion in a Stoic, and seeming flatteries in a Philosopher; and my gratitude deserved not to aspire to that name, if it should not like them want measures. But, seeing your modesty makes you think even what is justice to your merit to be flattery, as the greatness of your merit keeps the highest Eulogies I can give you from being so; I shall retain my respects for you in a breast, which may dispute sincerity as to your Interests, with the first of those who pretend to it: With which I shall the sooner rest satisfied, because no paper nor any thing else except the heart, which sends you this, is capable to retain or express that kindness it feels for you. In the above-written enumeration of your Titles, I have neither designed to flatter you, or to contribute to your fame; but rather to remember you how much you are debtor to Providence for its kindness, and we to you for your repeated cares, that thereby ye may be thankful to it, and we to you. In order to which, I have presented you and my Country with these Discourses, which by inciting both to be virtuous, will not allow either to be ungrate: and therein if I evidence not abilities, I will at least kindness and respect; which cannot but far outvalue the other, seeing the last relate to you, and the first respects only myself. Since than holy Altars have not disdained to offer up Pigeons, and such like value-lesse things, which nothing but the sincerity of the offerer could render considerable, refuse not to accept and revise these, though unfiinsht Discourses: And if a man's last words may be believed, I (who am to make these my last words in print, and confine my thoughts for the future to my ordinary employment) do assure you, that they are presented with all imaginable respect and zeal, by  
Your Grace's most humble Servant, George Mckenzie.   

To the Nobility and Gentry.  
My Lords and Gentlemen,  
HAving lighted this, though the smallest and dimmest of Virtue's torches, at Honour's purest flame; I thought it unsuitable to place it under the Bushel of a private Protection, but rather to fix it upon such a conspicuous Elevation, as your exalted names, that Virtue might launce out from thence its glorious beams more radiently, and the better direct these who intent to be led by it. Narrower Souls than yours, have not room enough to lodge such vast thoughts, as Virtue and Honour should inspire: And that which raised you to that height, which deserves this compliment from Virtue, does deserve that ye should not, when ye have attained to that height, neglect its address, though sent you by the meanest of it and your servants.  
Ye may (My Lords and Gentlemen) make yourselves illustrious by your Virtue; and which is yet nobler (because more extensive) ye may illustrat Virtue by your Greatness, and as the Impressa of a great Prince, makes Gold more current, though not more pure; So your Patrociny and Example may render Virtue more fashionable and useful then now it is. Undervalved Virtue makes then its application to you, as to those whom, or whose Predecessors it hath obliged; And persecuted Virtue deserves your Patronage, as rewarded Virtue is worthy of your Imitation. And seeing it did raise your families, and offers still to raise monuments for your memory, ye do in that assistance but pay your debt, and buy fame from succeeding ages. And as what is ingraved upon growing Trees, does enlarge itself as the Tree rises, so Virtue will be serious to advance you, knowing that it will receive extension accordingly as ye are promoted. Virtue is nothing else, but the exercise of these principles which respect the universal good of others; and therefore, Nature out of kindness to its own productions, and mankind in favour to their own interests, have ennobled and adored such as were strict observers of those. The only secure and noble way then to be admired and honoured, is to be virtuous; this will make you as it did Augustus, the ornament of your age, and as it did Vespasian the delight of mankind. This is (though to my regrate) the way to be nobly singular, and truly great. For men follow you, when ye are vicious, in compliment to their own depraved humours, but when they shall assimulat themselves to you in your Virtues, they will show truly their dependence, and that they follow you and not their own inclinations. In Vice ye but follow the mode of others, but in re-entering Virtue into the Bon-grace of the World, ye will be leaders; by this your lives will become patterns, and your sentences Laws to posterity, who shall inquire into your actions, not only that they may admire, but (which is more) that they may imitat you in them. I intent not by this discourse (My Lords and Gentlemen) that all Virtues should shrink in to the narrowness of a Cell or Philosopher's Gown. No, no, public Virtues are in their extension as much preferable to private, as the one place is more august than the other, of which to give you but one instance (for the Principle is too well founded to need moe) there is more Virtue in relieving the oppressed, then in abstaining from oppression, for that comprehends this, and adds to it the nobleness of courage, and the humanity of compassion. The one is the employment of Philosophers, but the other of that omnipotent GOD, whom these Philosophers with trembling adore: In the one we vanquish, but in the other we only fly temptations. Virtue then has employment for you, Great Souls! as well as for retired Contemplators, and though Justice, Temperance, and these Virtues wherein none share with you, be more intrinsically noble, than the achieving the greatest Victories, wherein fate soldiers and accidents challenge an interest; Yet Virtue loves to bestow Laurels as well as Bays, and hath its Heroes, as well as Philosophers. Rouse up then your native courage, and let it overcome all things except your clemency, and fear nothing but to slain your innocence; undervalue your Ancestors no otherwise, then by thinking their actions too small a Pattern for your designs; and assist your Prince, till ye make the World (which is washed by the Sea on all quarters) that Isle which should acknowledge his Sceptre; your time makes the richest part of the publicks treasure, and every hour ye misspend of that, is a sacrilegious theft committed against your Country. Throw not then so much time away, (though some be allowable) in hunting and hawking which are not the noblest exercises, seeing they favour always the strongest, and do incline men (though surdly) to oppression and cruelty (for which reason (I believe) Nimrod the first Tyrant, is in Scripture observed to have been a mighty Hunter) and with Lucullus that glorious Roman think it the noblest hunting, to pursue malefactors by Justice in peace, and irreclaimable enemies by Armies in War. Raise siege from before these coy Ladies (I speak no● of the nobler sort, for to court such will oblige you to learn Wit, Liberality, Patience and Courage) who do heighten their obstinacy of design to make you lengthen your pursuites, and lay it down before these strong Cities, which are by no forced metaphor called the Mistresses of the world, levelly their proud walls when they refuse your just commands, with the ground whereon they stand, and leave it as a doubt to your posterity, when they see ruins, to judge whither your fury or the thunder has lighted there. But if ye will justify your compliments to deserving beauties, employ your courage, as well as affection in their service (for till than ye serve them but by halfs) And as Cesar at his parting told Cleopatra, think yourselves unworthy of them, till ye have raised your own value by such exploits, as courage has made great, and Virtue has made generous. Court them as he did her, with no other Serenades, than the pleasant noise of your Victories; and after ye have returned, covered not with perfumes, or tissue, but with deserved and blossoming Laurels, then that same virtuous Courage, which hath forced a passage through Walls and Ramparts (piercing where shot of Cannon languished, or gave back) will find an entry into the hardest heart, which if it yield not to those gallant importunities of fate and fame, it is certainly more unworthy of your pains than ye of its choice. But forget not amidst all your Trophies, rather to chastise pride, then to be proud of any your plumpest successes (which become cheats, not victories, when men are vain of them) for by so doing you shall become Vassals to it: Whilst ye toil to enslave others to you, endeavour rather to deserve, then to court Fame: for in the one case ye will make it your Trumpet, whereas in the other it will become your Imperions' Mistress; and ye will thus oblige it to follow you, Whereas otherways you may weary yourselves in following it. The noblest kind of vanity, is to do good, not to please others, or to expect a reward from them, (and Fame is nothing else) but do so of design, to gratify your own gallant inclinations, judging that the having done what is good and great, is the noblest reward of both, and scattering, like the Sun, equal light, when men look, or look not upon it. The noblest kind of detraction, is to lessen those who rival your Virtue, not by obscuring their light, as the dull earth eclipses the Moon; but by outshining it as the Sun renders all these other Stars inconspicuous, which shine, but appear not at the same time with it. Raise your spirits by these Heroic efforts, to so generous a pitch, that ye need not think Heaven itself too high for you: And as if all things here below were too unworthy a reward for that courage, to which all those things do at last stoop. Attempt Heaven (if ye will be truly courageous) which the Scripture tells us, is taken by violence, and the violent take it by force. And when Virtue hath made you too great for this lower World, the acclamations and plauditees of such as consider the Heroickness and justice of your actions, shall be driven upwards with such z●●l and ardour, that they shall (as it were) rend the Heavens, to clear an entry for you there. Where when ye are mounted, though Cesar, or Augustus, Alexander, or Antoninus, were adorning the Skies, transformed into Stars, as their Adorers vainly imagined; yet ye may with pity look down upon them as spangles, which at best do but Embroider the outside of that Canopy whereupon ye are to trample. Ye shall there have pleasure to see our blessed Saviour interceded for such as were Virtuous, and welcome such as come there under that winning Character; and shall from these lofty Seats, see such Terrestrial souls, as by their love to the earth, were united, and transformed into it, burn in those flames which took fire first from the heat of their lusts here: Which though it be an insupportable punishment, yet ceds in horror to these checks they shall receive from their Conscience, for having undervalved, or oppressed that Virtue which I here recommend.   

The Author's Design and Apology.  
THough I can by no other Calculation then that of my sins, be found to be old; yet in that small parcel of time which I have already transacted, I have, by my own practice, been so Criminal, and by my example adopted so many of other men's sins into the number of my own, that though I should spend the residue of my allowance without one error (which is equally impossible and desirable) yet that negative goodness being a duty in itself, it could atone my foregoing sins no more, than the not contracting new debts, can be accounted a payment of the old. The consideration of which prevailed with me, to endeavour to reclaim others from their vices, by discourses of this tenor, that in their prosolited practice I might be virtuous, as I have been vicious in the practice of such as have followed my example; And that I might in the time they should employ well, redeem what I myself had so misspent. In order to which, I did resolve to address myself to the Nobility and Gentry, as to those whose reason was best illuminated; and by prevailing with whom, the world (who imitats them as they depend upon them) may be most compendiously gained to the profession of Philosophy, and to such as have most leisure to reflect upon what is offered, and fewest temptations to abstract them from obeying their own persuasions: And as Physicians do judge their Medicaments will be most successful, when they rather second, than force Nature. So I resolved to use the assistance of their own inclinations in my discourses to them, laying aside an enemy, and gaining thus a friend by one and the same task. Wherefore finding, that most of them were either taken by an itch for honour, or a love to ease, I have fitted their humours with two Discourses; in the one whereof, I endeavour to prove, That nothing is so mean as Vice; and in the next I shall prove, That there is nothing so easy as to be Virtuous. I had, I confess, some thoughts of this Discourse, when I first undertook the defence of Solitude, but I thought it fit to acquaint myself with writing, by writing to private persons, before I attempted to write to such as were of a more elevated condition: And that it was fit to invite all men first to Solitude, which I prefer as the securest Harbour of Virtue. But if some would pursue a public life, as the more noble, I thought it fit to demonstrate to them, That there is nothing truly Noble, but what is sincerely Virtuous. I doubt not but some will out of mistake (I hope few will out of malice) think that the Writing upon such foreign Subjects, binds this double guilt upon me, That I desert my own employment, and invades what belongs to those of another Profession: But if we number the hours that are spent in Gaming, Drinking, or Bodily Exercises (at none of which I am dexterous) If we consider what time is spent in Journeys, and in attending the Tides and returns of Affairs, we will find many moe vacant interluds, then are sufficient for writing ten Sheets of Paper in two years' space, especially upon a Subject which requires no reading, and wherein no man can write happily, but he who writes his own thoughts. With which, pardon me to think him a sober wit, who cannot fill one sheet in three hours; by which calculation there needs go only thirty select hours to ten sheets: And his life is most usuniously employed, who cannot spare so many out of two years to his divertisements; especially where the materials are such daily observations, as are thrust upon me and all others by our living in the world, and are so orthodox and undeniable, that an ordinary dress cannot but make them acceptable. And so few (I may say none) have written upon the Subject, that I am not put to forge somewhat that may be new: But what ever others judge of this or me, I find that it is a part of my employment as a Man and Christian, to plead for Virtue, against Vice. And really, as a Barrister, few Subjects will employ more my Invention, or better more my unlaboured Eloquence, than this can do. And I find, that both by writing and speaking Moral Philosophy, I may contract a kindness for Virtue, seeing such as repeat a lie with almost any frequency, do at last really believe it. Neither is there any thing more natural, then to have much kindness, for either these Persons, or Sciences wherewith we are daily conversant: And by this profession and debate, I am obliged (though I fear that I satisfy not that obligation) by a new and strong tye to be Virtuous; lest I else be inconsequential to my own principles, and so be repute a fool, either in not following what I commend, or in commending so much what by my practice I declare is not worth the being followed: And therefore if I cannot pleasure others (which is my great aim, and will yield me great satisfaction) I will at least profit myself: Which, because it is more independent, is therefore more noble, and so will suit best with my Subject, though the other would suit better with my desires.   

A DISCOURSE, Endeavouring to prove, That point of Honour obliges Men to be Virtuous; And that there is nothing so mean as Vice, or so unworthy of a Gentleman.  
BY how much the more the world grows older, by so much (like such as wax old) its light grows dimmer; and in this twilight of its declining age, it too frequently mistakes the colours of good and evil, and not infrequently believes that to be the body, which is but its shadow. But amongst all its errors, those which concern honour, are the most (because conspicuous, therefore) dangerous; every fault being here an Original sin, and becoming, because of the authority of the offender, an Law, rather than an Example. Some conceive themselves obliged in honour to endeavour to be second to none, and therefore to overturn all who are their Superiors: Others to think every thing just whereby they may repay (though to the ruin of Public Justice) the favours done to their private Persons, or Fortunes. Some imagine that they are in honour bound to live at the rate, and maintain the grandour of their Predecessors, though at the expense of their starving Creditors (obedient to Nature in nothing ofttimes, but in this fantastic keeping of their Ranks) and there want not many, who judge it derogatory to theirs, to acknowledge these errors of which they stand convinced. Young Gallants likewise look upon Virtue, as that which confines too narrowly their inclinations, judging every thing mean which falls short of all the length, to which power or fancy can stretch itself: And as a Gentile Wit hath handsomely expressed it, they believe that  Honour is nothing but an itch of blood, A great desire to be extravagantly good. 
And thus whilst every man mistakes his Fancy for his Honour, they make Honour to be like the Wind (from which at that rate it doth little differ) than which nothing sounds higher, and yet nothing is less understood. To vindicate Honour from these aspersions, and reclaim persons otherways Noble from these errors, I have undertaken this Discourse: the nobleness of whose Subject deserves, that it had been illuminate by the victorious hand of mighty Cesar, and to have been Writ by a Quill plucked from the Wing of a Fame. But I hope the Readers will consider, that seeing I am able to say so much upon it, that more sublime Wits would be able to say much more. And as in refining of Metals, the first workmen require usually lest skill; so I hope that after I have digged up with rather pains, than Art, the first Ore, it will hereafter be refined by some happier hand.  
I have in great esteem these Honours which are derived from Ancestors (though that be to be great by our Mother's labours, 
Native Honour commended.  rather than our own) and to those which Princes bestow (though that be but to be gallant in Livery) and I believe that we may justly interpret Nebuchadnezars Image (whereof the Head is said to have been Gold, 
Dan. 2.  the Breast Silver, the Belly Brass, the Legs Iron, and the Feet Clay, to be a Hieroglyphic of this lower World, wherein Nature hath impressed the several Ranks of Mankind, with gradual advantages suitable to their respective employments; The meaner sort falling like dregs to the bottom, whilst the more refined Spirits do like the Cream rise above; these like sparkles flying upward, whilst the others do like the contemned ashes lie neglected upon the level. And seeing the Wise Former of the World, did design by its Fabric, the manifestation of His Glory; it is most reasonable to conclude, that He would adorn such as are most conspicuous in it, with such charms and accomplishments as might most vigorously ravish the beholders into the admiration of that Glorious Essence they represent. The Almighty being hereby so kind to such whom he hath deprived of the pleasure of commanding others, as to give them the pleasure of being commanded by such as they need not be ashamed to obey, and so just to those whom he hath burdened with that command, as to fit them for it by resembling endowments: And as by the Heroickness of these who represent him, he magnifies his own wisdom in that choice; So by their public spiritedness, he manifests his love to these who are to be governed. Thus as amongst the Spheres, the higher still roll with the greatest purity: and as in natural Bodies, the Head, is as well the highest as the noblest part of that pretty Fabric (from being vain whereof, nothing could let us, but that, as the Apostle says, it is given us, and is not our own workmanship) so amongst men (each whereof is a little World, or rather a nobler draught of the greater) the highest are ordinarily the more sublime; for such as attain by election to that height, must be presumed best to deserve it, such as force a passage to it, could not do so without abilities far raised above the ordinary allowance, and such as by their birth are accounted Noble, have ordinarily (like water) their blood so much the more purified, by how much the further it hath run from its first Fountain: Antiquity is an abridged eternity, and that being one of GOD'S Attributes, these do oft resemble him most in his other Attributes, who can pretend with greatest justice to this. And as in natural bodies, duration doth argue a fineness, and strength of constitution, so we cannot but acknowledge that those Families have been most worthy, who have worn out the longest tract of time without committing any such enorm crime, or being guilty of either such rashness, or infrugality, as moth away these their Lineages, which like Jonahs' Gourd, rather appear to salute the world, then to fix any abode in it.  
Yet there is a Nobility of Extraction much raised, above what can owe its rise to flesh or blood: and that is Virtue, which being the same in souls, that the other is in bodies and families, must by that Analogy surpass it as far, as the soul is to be preferred to the body, and this Moral Honour and Nobility prizes its value so far above all other qualities, that the Stoical Satirist following the Dogmas of that School, is bold to say, that nothing but virtue deserves the name of Nobility,  Nobilitas sola est atque unica Virtus. 
And in opposition to this Nobility, but most consequentially to that Doctrine, Seneca a Partisan of the same Tribe, doth with a noble haughtiness of Spirit tell us, that licet Deus nesciret, nec homo puniret peccatum, non tamen peccarem ob peccati vilitatem, though GOD could not know, nor man would not punish Vice, yet I would not sin, so mean a thing is sin. For proving of which, I shall advance and confirm these two great truths, that men are in point of Honour obliged to be virtuous, and that there is no Vice which is not so mean that it is unworthy of a Gentleman; and shall lead you unto that Seraglio of private Vices, of which, though the weakest, seem in our experience to have strength enough to conquer such who pass for great geniouses in in the World: A Philosopher will yet find, that these defeats given by them to noble Spirits, do not proceed from the irresistableness of their charms, but from the inadvertance of such as are captivat, and is rather a surprise then a conquest. For these great souls being bussied in the pursuit of some other Project, want nothing but time to overcome these follies, or else these vices and passions (which is a great Argumemnt of their weakness) do then assault such Heroes, when they are become now mad with their prosperity. But if we will strip Vice or Passion of these gaudy ornaments, which error and opinion lends them, or advert to our own actions, we will find, that these overcome us not, but that we by our own misapprehension of them overcome ourselves, as will appear, First, by some general reflections, to which in the second place I shall subjoin some particular instances, and shall by a special Induction of the most eminent Virtues and Vices clear, that there is nothing so noble as Virtue, nor nothing so mean as Vice.  
As to the general reflections, 
Virtue contributes more to advancement then Vice can do.  I shall begin with this, that if Advancement be a noble Prize, doubtless Virtue most by this be more noble than Vice, seeing it bestows oftest that so much desired reward. For further proving of which from reason, consider, that no man will cabal with vicious persons (without which no project for advancement can be promoved) for, who will hazard his life and fortune with one whom he cannot believe? and who can believe one who is not virtuous; trust fidelity and sincerity, being themselves Virtues? or who should expect to gain by favours, the friendship of such as by their Vices are ingrate to GOD and Nature? who have been to such liberal, infinitely far above humane reach (and thus likewise vicious persons are contemptibly mean seeing they are so infinitely ingrate) and in this appears the meanness of Vice, that it can effectuate nothing without counterfitting Virtue, or without its real assistance: When Robbers associate, they entertain something Analogical to friendship and trust, else their Vices would be but barren; and without humility showed to inferiors, the proudest men and Tyrants would owe but little to the greatness of their spirit: When Undertakers league together, either they trust one another, because of their oaths or because of their interests only; If the first, they owe their Success to Virtue; If the second, than they never fully cement, but assist each others by halfs, reserving the other half of their force to attend that change, which interest may bring to their Associates, and do such as fight for hire (interest being nothing else) acquit themselves with such valour? as those, whose courage receives edge from Duty, Charity, Religion, or any such virtuous principles? Vicious persons have many rivals, and so meet in their rising with much opposition: The Covetous fear the promotion of him who is such, and the Ambitious, of him who is of the same temper. But because, all expect civility from the debonair, and money from the Liberal; They therefore wish their preferment, as what will contribute to their own interest, and Princes are induced to gratify such, as knowing that in so doing, they transmit to their people what they bestow upon such Favourits, and that they preclud the challenges of these who repine at their Favours as misplaced when not bestowed upon themselves.  
If there be any thing that is noble or desirable in fame, 
Virtue is more conducive to Fame then Vice.  Virtue is the only (at least as the straightest so the nearest) road to it, Posterity taking our actions under their review, without the bias of prejudice, passion, interest or flattery, and of such as Story cannonizes for its Grandees. Alexander is not so truly glorious, for defeating the Indians, as for refusing to force Darius fair Daughters; for in the one, a great part is due to the courage of his soldiers, and the brutishness of his opposers, whereas in the other he overcame the charms of such, as might have overcome all others, and was put to combat his own youth, which had gained for him all his Victories: the meanest of his soldiers could have forced a prisoner, but fame reserved it as a reward worthy of Alexander in this chastity to vanquish a monarch and to gratify a generous Lady; to displease whom, was as great a crime as it was to ravish others. Nor was William the Conqueror more honoured, for subjecting a Warlike nation, then for pardoning Gospatrick and Eustache of Bulleign, after so many revoltings: For in the one he conquered but these who were less than himself, but in the other he conquered himself, who was their Conqueror. Aristides was esteemed more noble, in under-going a patient banishment, than these Usurpers who condemned him to it, whose names remain as obscure as their crimes are odious, whilst his is the continual ornament of pulpits and theatres: And all the Roman glories do not celebrat Nero's memory to the same pitch with that of Seneca's, who did (like the Sun) then appear greatest, when he was nearest to the setting. Alexander is only praised, when we remember not his kill Parmenio, and the famous Hugh Capet of France ends his glory, where we begin to talk of his usurpation: and (to dispatch) this is one great difference betwixt Virtue and Vice, in relation to fame, That Vice like a Charletan is applauded by the unacquainted; or like rotten Wood may shine in the dark, but it's lustre lessens at the approach of either time or light; whereas, though Virtue may for a time lie under the oppression of malice (which Martyrdom it suffers only when it is mistaken for Vice) yet time ennobles it, and light does not lend it splendour, but servs only to illuminat its beholders: and so to enable them to discover what native Excellencies it posesses.  
If Amphialaus or Orondates had been charged in these Romance, 
Au Argument from Romances.  ye so dote upon with drunkenness oppression or envy, certainly it had lessened their esteem, even with such as most admire, though they will not imitat these Virtues. And to show how much kindness Virtue breeds for such as possesses it, Consider, how though ye know these to but imaginary ideas of Virtue, yet ye cannot but love them (as ye can love them for nothing else) seeing they never, obliged you or your relations; and since abstract Virtue conciliats so much favour, certainly Virtue in you will conciliat much more: For besides that idea which will be common to you with them, some will be obliged thereby to love you, as their Benefactors, and others, because they know not when ye will become so. And at least they will honour your Virtue, as that which will secure them against your wrongs, and which will assure them of your good wishes, if you cannot lend them your assistance. Would not the most prostitute Ladies hate Statira, or Parthenissa, if they had been represented under any one of these their own Vices, whose number can find their account no where but in the moments they live, nor excuses no where but in the madness of such as commit them? And would not our Gallants think it ridiculous to see these Hero's brought in by or the Authors of Cassandra, or Parthenissa glorying in having made their Comrades brutish by drinking, or poor Maids miserable by uncleanness, and though Whoring be cried up as one of these gentile exercises, that are the price of so much time and pains; yet we hear of none of these, who are so much as said to have had a Whore, beside to glory in it. But to turn the medal, consult your own experience, and it will remember you of many hopeful Gentlemen, whose advancement hath been so far disappointed by these Vices, that they fell so low as to become objects of pity to such as feared them once, as their accomplished Rivals. And to let us see the folly of sin, I have known such as hated Nigardliness so much, as that to shun it, they spent their abortive Estates before they were full Masters of them; Brought by that excess to flee Creditors, starve at home, walk in rags, and which is worse, beg in misery, and so to fall into the extremity of that Vice, whose first, and most innocent degrees they laughed at in others: And when they begged from these who were both Authors and Companions in their Debordings, (expecting to be supplied, as well by their justice as their compassion) did get no return but that laughter which was a lesson taught by themselves; or at best, a thousand curses, for having bred them in a way of living, that did naturally occasion so much mischief. If then poverty be mean and ignoble, certainly Vice must be so too, seeing beside sickness, infirmity and infamy, 
Virtue railed the Grecian and Roman Empires.  it hales on poverty upon such as entertain it.  
When the world was yet so young, as to be led by sincerity, in place of that experience, which makes our age rather witty then honest. Its Hero's, who equally surpassed and ennobled mankind by their Virtue, were for it deified, even by these their contemporaries, who in possessing much more both riches and power than they, wanted nothing but this Virtue to be much greater than they were. And thus Nimrods' Kingdom could not build him Altars, though sincere Rhadamanthus had fire kindled on his, by the heat of their zeal, who knowing him to be mortal, could not, even in spite of his dying, but worship that Immortal Virtue which shined in him. And as Cicero informs, these gods of the Pagans were at first but illustrious Hero's, whose virtue, rather than their nature rendered them immortal, and worthy to be worshipped, even in the estimation of such undisciplined Bruts, as thought the Laws of Nature a bondage, and the Laws of GOD a fable. We find though Lycurgus in Lacedaemon, Aristides in Athens, and Epamenondas in Thebes, were not born to command, yet their Virtue bestowed on them what their Birth denied, and both without, and against factions, they were elected by their Citizens to that rule, which they did not Court, and were preferred to such as both by birth and pains had fairer pretences to it. And whilst Greece flourished, Reges Philosophabant, & Philosophi regebant: these Commonwealths being more numerous than their Neighbours, in nothing but their Virtues, and stronger than they in nothing but in the sincere exercise of Reason: And when Tyranny and pride had by wasting these Commonwealths, made place for the Roman glory, nothing conquered so much the confiners of that glorious State (whose Centre was Virtue, and Circumference Fame) as their Virtue. Thus the Phalerians are by Plutarch said to have sent Ambassadors to Rome, resigning themselves over to the Roman Government, because they found them so just and noble, as to send back their Children who had been betrayed by a Schoolmaster: when Pyrrhus was advertised by the Romans to beware of Poison from one of his own Subjects, who had offered to dispatch him, he did then begin to fear that he should be conquered by their Arms, who had already subdued him by their civilities. And such esteem had their justice gained them, that they were chosen Umpires of all neighbouring Nations, and so gained one of the opposites, first to a confederacy, and then to a dependency upon them. And Attalus King of Pergamus, did in Legacy leave them his Kingdom, as to these whose Virtues deserved it as a reward; which occasioned St. Augustine to fall out in this eloquent expression, Because GOD (saith he) would not bestow Heaven upon the Romans, they being Pagans, he bestowed the Empire of the World upon them, because they were Virtuous. And many have been raised to Empires, by no other assistance then that of their Virtue. As Numa Pompilius, Marcus Antonius, Pertinax and Vespasian, whilst the want of this, hath in spite of all the power with which vicious Governors have been surrounded, degraded others from the same Imperial Honours, as Tarqvinius Superbus, Domitian, Comodus. And generally there is but one Emperor to be seen in that long Roman List, who was unfortunate, 
Virtue hath made Philososophers to be admi red above Princes.  being Virtuous: And not one whose Vice was not the immediate cause of ruin to its Author.  
Antiquity hath also transmitted to us the memory of Socrates, Zeno, and other Philosophers, under as obliging Eulogies, as these of the most famous Emperors, whom Virtue (to let us see that Riches and Honours are but the Instruments of Fame, and not the Dispenser's of it) hath, without any assistance, raised to this pitch, above these Princes, that they have conquered our esteem, without the aid of Armies, Treasures, Senates, or flattering Historians; and cease not like them to command when they ceased to live; but by their precepts and discourses, force worthy souls yet to a more entire obedience, than the others did whilst they were alive, by their Sanctions and penal Statutes. For Princes govern but a short time one Nation: and by these Laws, they awe but such vicious persons, whom it is more trouble than honour to command. But these Illustrious Philosophers, and such as imitate their Virtue, have thereby attained to a Sovereignty over both the Wills and Judgements of the best of all such as are scattered amongst all the other Kingdoms of the World. And Marcus Aurelius, who was one of the greatest Emperors, doth recommend to Kings as well as Subjects, to think, that one of these Philosophers is beholding all their actions, as a most efficacious mean to keep men in awe, not to commit that Vice to which they are tempted.  
I have seen very great men shun to own even their beloved Vices in the presence of such as they needed not fear for any thing but their Virtue: 
Vice must Lurk, and is cowardly.  And it is most remarkable, that Nero, who exceeded all who then lived in power, and all who shall live (I hope) in cruelty, did still judge himself under some restraint, whilst Seneca was at Court to be a witness to his actions. And every vicious person must flee public, and the light (which shows the meanness and cowardliness of Vice) when he is to resign himself over to any of these Criminal Exercises, by which likewise when committed, men become yet more cowards; for who having spent his life at that unworthy rate, will not (if he be master of any reason) tremble and be afraid to venture upon such exploits? as by taking his life from him, may, and will present him before the Tribunal of that GOD whom he hath offended; and from whom (which will not a little contribute to his cowardliness) he cannot expect that success, whereof the expectation lessens, or heightens to its own measures, the courage of such as are engaged.  
We may easily conclude the meanness of Vice from this also, 
Servants equal Masters in Vice.  that Servants, without pains or Art, equal us in them; for these can Whore, Drink, Lie, and Oppress: But to be Temperate, Just and Compassionate, are qualities whereby we deserve, and are by such as know us not, judged to be Masters and well descended. And have not Servants reason to think themselves as deserving persons as their Masters, when they find themselves able to equal, or surpass them, in what they glory in as their great accomplishments?  
Seing what is imitated, 
Vice but copies Virtue.  is still nobler then what imitats, certainly Vice must be the less Noble, because it but copies Virtue, and owes to its mask, and our errors, what it possesses of pleasure or advantage. Cruelty pretends to be Zeal, Liberality is counterfeited by the Prodigal, and Lust endeavours to pass for Love.  
Is there any thing more ignoble than fear, 
All Vices imply fear.  which does as slaves, subject us to every attempter? And have not all Vices somewhat of that unmanly passion? In Covetousness we fear the want of Money, in Ambition the want of Honour, in Revenge the want of Justice, in Jealousy Rivals; and when we lie we fear to speak openly.  
Is there any thing more mean than dependence? and makes not Ambition us to depend upon such as have Honours? 
All Vices make us depend upon others.  Covetousness upon such as have Riches? and Lust upon the refuse of Women? Whereas Virtue seeks no other reward, then is paid in doing what is virtuous, and owes its fee only to its self, leaving Vice in the servile condition of serving for a fee even those whom it most hates. And generally in all Vices we betray a meanness, because in all these we confess want and infirmities: In Avarice, we appear either fools, in desiring what is not necessary and in dissoblieging friends, hazarding our health, and other necessars for what is not so it's self or else we confess that our necessities are both greater, and more numerous, than these of others, by heaping together Riches and Money, which serve for nothing, when they serve us not in supplying our wants. In Ambition we confess the want of native Honour and Excellency, In Lust want of Continency, In Anger we want Command of our selus, and in Jealousy we declare we think not ourselves worthy of that love alone, wherein we cannot fear rivals upon any other account; and in Jealousy men likewise wrong their own Honour, in suspecting that of their Ladies or Friends; Whereas Virtue persuades us, that our necessities may be confined to a very small number, and that these may be repaired, without any loss of friends, and but little of time: it teaches us that Riches were created to serve us; And that therefore we disparage ourselves, when we subject our humour to our Servants. And from it we learn, to rate so justly the Excellencies of that rational Soul, which is the Image of GOD Almighty, as to expect from it, and no where else under the Sun, any true and solid happiness: And to account nothing more noble than it, except the Almighty GOD, whose offspring it is, and whom it represents.  
There is nothing more mean then to be cheated, 
Virtue allows us a just value of our selus.  and all Vices cheat us, Treason promises Honour, but leads to a Scaffold; Lust pleasure, but leads to sickness, and Flattery cheats all such as hear it, and such as are proud are doubly miserable, because they are both the cheaters, and the persons cheated. Thus Vice cannot please without a crime, and these are even then gaining the hatred and contempt of others, when they are enquiring, or hearing from flatterers, that the people seek no where without them objects of Love and Admiration. Whereas, Sacred Virtue allows us to admire ourselves, and which is more, to believe that all these things for which vicious men neglect the care of their Souls, are unworthy of our re-search; and certainly the Soul is a more noble creature than that earth, or metal, which we slain our Souls to get: for, our Souls do censure all these things; it finds defects in the noblest buildings, and shows by desiring more, an unsatisfiableness in all extrinsic objects; It determins the price of all other creatures, and like the Magistrate in this Commonwealth, assigns to every thing its rate; to day it cries up the Diamond, and to morrow it allows preference to the Ruby: these treats, and colours, which ravish this year, pass the next for no beauty. Red hair pleases the Italian, and our Climate hates it, and it is probable, that this change of inclination, is not a culpable inconstancy in man, but a mark of his Sovereignty over all his fellow-creatures. Virtue teaches him not to owe his happiness to the Stars, nor to be like some foolish Emperors, so fond vain, as to think that he shall have no other reward for his Virtue, than the being transformed into one of these lesser lights, which he knows to have been created only for a Lantern to him, or at best but to adorn, with their numberless Associates, that firmament which was created to be one of these least Arguments, whereby he was to be courted into a belief of, and love for that GOD, who thinks him so excellent a Creature, that he is said to be glad at the Conversion of a sinner, and to grieve at his obstinacy; And if we will consider the miraculous Fabric of our bodies, which though we be but dull, yet we may see to be all workmanship; and wherein the number of wonders, equals that of Nervs, Sinews, Veins, Bones or Ligaments, the curious Fabric of that Brain, which lodges (without crowd or confusion) so many thousands of different and noble thoughts, the Artifice of those various Organs, that express so Harmonious Airs and ravishing expressions, the charmingnesse of these Lynes and Featurs in Ladies, which like the Sun scorch as well as illuminat the beholders. We may conclude that our Soul must be a most excellent piece, seeing all this contexture, is appointed to be but a momentany tabernacle for it, when it is in its lowest and unworthiest estate; And which when the Soul deserts, is thrown out with all its wonders, lest it should by its stink trouble the meanest of these Senses, which servs the Souls of these who are alive. Consider how this Soul grasps in one thought all that Glob for which ambitious men fight, and for some of whose furrows, the avaricious man doth so much toil. Consider, how it despises all that Avarice has amazed, how it is pleased with no external object, longer than it fully considers it, and what a great vacuity is left in our desires after these are thrown into them; and by all this we will learn, that Vice disparages too much the Soul, when it imagines, that any finite thing can bond its thoughts, and we are but cheated when we listen to these proffers, which Vice makes use of Honour, Pleasure or Advantage: for who can be so mean, to think that all these faculties were bestowed upon our Souls? these featurs upon our bodies, and so much care taken of both by Providence, for no other end, then that we should admire that Wine which Peasants make, those colours which prostitute Whoors wear, that we should gain fortunes, which serve too oft to corrupt these for whom they are prepared, or respect from such, as bow not to us, but to our stations?  
Having thus overrun these general Considerations, whereby men who are gallant may be Courted to a love for Virtue; my Method leads me now to fall down to those instances of particular Vices and Virtues, wherein I may make nearer approaches to the actions of mankind: And seeing there is too much of ease, and too little of cogency, in writing full and tedious essays upon these common Themes, I shall consider them only as they relate to Gallantry, promising no other tract of Art in all this Discourse, but that I shall pursue my design so closely, as not to employ any Argument against Vice, nor assist Virtue with one thought, but such as may decry the one as mean, and cry up the other as gentile and handsome.  
We owe that deference to great men, 
Dissimulation.  that even their Vices should have the precedency of all others, and therefore I shall begin this invective with Dissimulation, which is peculiarly their sin, for when the meaner sort are guilty of the same thing, it is in them called falsehood, from which dissimulation differs nothing, but that it is the Cadet of a Nobler Family. And this evinces what an ugly and ungentile Vice Dissimulation is, seeing he is no Gentleman who would not choice rather to die, or starve, then to be thought false: All Dissemblers show an inability to compass without these pitiful shifts, what in dissembling they design, for this is the last refuge, and by this Courage becomes unnecessary, and we oft see that Cowards dissemble best, gallant men laying that weight upon their Courage, which the others do upon Dissimulation. And at this unworthy Game, it is not requisite to be gallant, providing men be wicked. Dissimulation is but a Courtly Cowardliness, and a Stately Cheat: and certainly, he is too much afraid of his own, either Courage, or Fate, and values too much his prize above his honour, or innocence, who can stoop to play this under-boord Game: Whereas a gallant and generous soul, will not fear any event so much, as to leave his Road for it; and will own what is just, with so much nobleness of resolution, that though Fate should tumble down upon him Mountains of misfortunes, they may perhaps overwhelm, but they shall never be able to divert him. Where are then these gallant resolutions of our forefathers? who scorned even victories gained by teachery, falsehood, poisons, and such other unhandsome means? Where is the Roman fortitude? which advertised Pyrrhus of his Physicians offer to poison him, though their greatest enemy, And which caused Marcus Regulus choice to return to be a Martyr for Virtue, rather than slain the Roman Faith? Where are these resentments of the Lie in frivolous cases, when great men magnify in their Dissimulation what is in effect lying and treachery? To deceive one who is not obliged to believe us, is ill; but to cheat one whom our own fair pretences have induced to believe us, is much worse, for this is to murder one whom we have persuaded to lay aside his Arms. And as Dissimulation thrives never but once, so to use it cuts off from the Dissembler that trust and confidence which is necessary in great undertake; for, who will depend on these whom they cannot trust? And after Dissemblers are catcht (as seldom they escape) the abused people hate and persecute them as violators of that without which the World cannot subsist. I appeal to the Reader, if he hath not heard enemies loved for their ingenuity; and if he hath not seen these Cutthroat Lights blown out, and end in a stinking snuff: And as if every man had escaped a Cutpurse, if every man did not bless himself, and rejoice to see these dissemblers fall. And I may justly say, that Dissimulation is but the Theory of Cut-pursing, and Assasination. Consider how unpleasant any thing appears that is crooked, and ye will find an natural argument against Dissimulation, and though it hath great Patrons, and can pretend to an old possession, and much breeding at some Courts (though all who are Gallant there hate it) yet it is never able to gain esteem, and can defend itself no other ways, then by a cowardly lurking, and shunning to be discovered. Neither can there be so much Wit in this Art as can justify its error; for Women, and the meanest Wits are ofttimes most expert in it: all can do it in some measure, and none ever used it long without being discovered; and such only are rendered its prey, as make it no great conquest, they being either our friends, who expected not our invasion; or fools, who are not worthy to be gloried in, as our Trophies.  
There are none of these Vices which rage amongst men, 
Envy & detraction.  more destructive to either their honour, or to the honour of that Commonwealth which they compose, than Envy, and (which both follows it, and aggravats its guilt) Detraction. Envy is mean, because it confesses that the envyer is not so noble or excellent as the person envied: for none are envied, but such as possess somewhat that over-reaches, or excels what is possessed by such as do envy. This Vice acknowledges, that he who useth it, wants much of what is desirable, and which is meaner, much of what another possesses, and as if we despaired of rising to another's height, it makes us endeavour to pull him down to the stature of our own accomplishments. Most men essay to imitate the actions of these whom they envy; so that in detracting from these, they leave others to undervalue what they themselves design ardently to perform. And thus, if these detractors be so much favoured by Fate, as to achieve any such great action, as that is which they undervalue in others, they get but a barren victory, and which is more insupportable, they see themselves punished by their own Vice. And to convince us how mean Vices, Envy and Detraction are, we may observe, that such as are victorious, judge it their honour to magnify these who were vanquished; and men wound extremely their own honour, when they detract from persons who are more deserving in the eyes of the world than themselves, for they force their hearers to conclude, that the Detractors themselves must be undeserving, seeing these who deserve better, are by their confession, cried down as being of no merit, which remembers me of this excellent passage in Plinius the Second, Tibi ipsi ministras in alio laudando, aut enim is quem laudas, tibi superior-est, aut inferior; si inferior & laudandus, tu multo magis; si superior, neque jure laudandus, tu multo minus. Thou serves thy own interest when thou praises others, for either he whom thou praisest, is thy inferior, and then if he deserves to be praised, much more thou, if he be thy superior, and deserves not to be praised, much less thou. All men are either our friends, or our enemies, or such who have not concerned themselves in our affairs. We are base, because ingrate, when we detract from our friends, and we assert our own folly, when by Detraction, we endeavour to lessen the worth of those whom we have chosen for such: we lessen likewise our honour, when we detract from our competitors, and enemies, because to contest with undeserving persons, is ignoble, and to be vanquished by them, has little of honour in it; Whereas, as all events are uncretain, if we be overcome by such as our detractions have made to pass for undeserving, our overthrow will by so much become the more despicable, and to detract from such as expected no wrong from us, and who are strangers to us and our affairs, is not only imprudent and unjust, but is as dishonourable and little gallant, as that is to wound one who expects not our aggression, and whose innocency, as to us, leaves him disarmed; and the word backbiting clears to us, that detraction is a degree of cowardlienesse, for it assaults only such as are unprepared, or absent, which is held dishonourable amongst the least of such as have gallantry in any esteem. He who praises, bestows a favour, but he who detracts, commits a Robbery, in taking from another what is justly his; and certainly to give, is more noble then to take. Envy is also most prejudicial to great undertake, seeing such as are engaged, must resolve either not to act, what is necessary for completing so great projects, or if they do, to fall under the envy of these for whom they act them, and the undertakers do obstruct by envy their own greatness, because they are by that Vice, persuaded to crop such as but begin to perform in their service, attempts worthy of the being considered: How destructive likewise this Vice is to the glory of Kingdoms, and Common Wealths, does but too clearly appear from this; that all who are in them, are either despicable, by not being worthy of the being envied, or else will be destroyed by that Vice, which levels its murdering engines at such only, who are the noblest Spirits, and who deserve most promotion from their Country. Carthage was destroyed by the envy which Hanno and Bomilcar, bore to Hannibal; who by denying him Forces, to prosecut his Italian Conquests, did involve themselves with him in the common ruins of their Country; which shows the dishonourable folly of envy in conspiring against itself, with these who being enemies to both the opposites, sides first with the one, in gratifieing his envy, and then destroys the other, whose passion it first served. Pitiful examples whereof, our own Age affords us, wherein many great men were by envy driven to oppose principles, whereon they knew the public safety, and their own private interest to depend. Flaminius' the Roman General endangered Rome, and Terentus Varro did almost loss it out of envy to Fabius Maximus; and such was the force of envy, that it did defeat the great Scipio, and banished him from that Rome which he had made both secure and great; and did by his example cool the zeal of such who retained their blood in its Veins, as in an arsenal, for no other end then the service of their Country, as a consequence of which envy, it was observed, that in the next Age most of Rome's Citizens declined rather to entertain that fame, which the former courted, then to be exposed to the cruelty of that envy, which did usually attend it. Detraction brings likewise these great disadvantages to our reputation, that it engages both these from whom we detract, and their friends partly out of revenge, and partly for self defence, to inquire into our errors and frailties, and to publish such as upon enquiry they have found, or to hatch calumnies, if truth cannot supply them: And in that case, rate of Game obliges us to favour the Counterer, for we defend what may be our own case, in favouring what is at present but the defence of others. It legittimats likewise these calumnies which are vented of us, by such as our detraction hath not yet reached, who will think it their prudence (like these who fear Invasion) to carry the War into the Territories of such, from whom they do upon well founded suspicions expect Acts of Hostility. If then our own Honour be dear to us, we should not invade the Honour of others: For, Revenge, the activest of Passions (when added to that love of Honour which is equal in us and them) will oblige them to do more against our Honour, than we can do in its defence.  
Whoring renders men contemptible, 
Whoring.  whilst it tempts them to embrace such as are not only below themselves in every sense, but such as are scarce worthy to serve these handsomer Ladies, whom they either do, or may lawfully enjoy. Doth not this Vice persuade men to lie in Cottages? with Sluts, or (which is worse) Strumpets, to lurk in corners, to fear the encounter of such as know them, and to bribe and fear those servants, who by serving them at such occasions, have by knowing their secrets, attained to such a servile mastery over them, that I have been ashamed to hear Gentlemen upbraided by these Slaves, in terms, which were the adequat punishment, as well as the effect of their Vice. Men in Whoring must design either to satisfy their own necessities, or their fancy; if their necessities, then as Marriage is more convenient, so it is as much more noble than Whoring; as it is more gentile for a person of honour, rather to lodge constantly in a well appointed Palace, then to ramble up and down in blind Alehouses; in the one a man enjoys his own, whereas in the other he only lives as Thiefs do, by purchase: If to satisfy fancy, certainly it should please more, at least it is more honourable to be secure against rivals, then to be sure to be equalled by them who will fancy a divided affection? and who can be sure? that she who destroys her honour for us, will not risign the same to a second, or third? for besides the experiment we have of her change, oaths, honour and obligations can be no convincing evidents of, or sureties for what she promises, seeing she is then breaking these, when she gives strangers these new assurances. And this makes me laugh to hear Women so foolish, as to rely upon such promises as are given by men who destroy their Nuptial Oaths, when they make them. And if Women be such excellent persons, as to deserve that respect, and these adorations, which are passionate enough to be paid before Altars; certainly every man should endeavour to secure the esteem of one of these rare creatures, which is more noble, then to rest satisfied with a tenth, or sixteenth part, like men sharing in a Caper. And therefore, seeing fancy nor honour allow no rivals, I am confident that no man can satisfy his fancy, or secure his honour, in preferring a Whore to a Wise, or in using Whores when he wants one. Have not Whores ruined the repute of some great men who entertained them? by causing them neglect to pursue their victories, as Thais did to Alexander, and Cleopatra to Mark Anthony? Have they not betrayed these secrets wherein their same was most interessed, as Dalila did to Samson? And there is nothing more ordinary, then to hear such (like Herod) swear that they dare not refuse their Mistresses, what ever is within their reach; and thus, they must either prove base, in perjuring themselves, if they think not what they say; are contemptible slaves, both to their passions, and to these who occasion them, if they resolve to perform what they promise: which makes likewise these to be dangerous masters, who depend upon the humour of a woman, and so concludes them unfit to be great. It were then a generous expiation of this Vice in such as are oppressed by it, to use it (not its objects) as Mahomet the Great, did his gallant Mistress Irene, whose Life and Head he sacrificed to the repine of his Court, and Jannisars, who challenged him justly, for loving rather to be conquered by one silly woman, then to conquer the World, wherein she had many, but he no equals. It is noble to deliver Ladies out of danger, but not to draw dangers on them, and to punish such as scoff at them, rather than to make them ridiculous; and what thousands of dangers, are drawn upon Ladies, by being debauched, when married, and if they be not married, are they not thereby made the Proverb of all such as know them: And to these I recommend Tamars' words, who when Ammon offered to lie with her, told him, thou shalt be as one of the fools in Israel, and I whither shall I cause my shame to go? And after this let them remember, that when he had satisfied his lust, than he instantly (as is too ordinar) despised her person. And since Ladies will not slain their Honour with this Vice, till they be married, I conceive they should much less after, for there the obligation is doubled. From all which it follows, that lust is equally base and ignoble, whither it discharge itself upon equals or inferiors, betwixt which two, there is only this difference, that it is brutal in the one case, and cruel in the other.  
There is no Vice whereby gallantry is more stained, then by breach of promise, which becomes yet more Sacrilegious, when Ladies are wronged by it. And of this, whoring makes men likewise guilty, when it robs from Ladies their Husbands, robbing likewise such upon which it bestows them, both of their Honour and Quiet. And thus, though it makes such as use it barren (GOD in this resistig the propagation of Sin) yet itself brings forth its faults in full clusters. And nathan's Parable to David, proves it likewise to be so high an oppression, that no man of Honour would commit it, if he would but seriously reflect upon his own actions; From which Parable, this new observation may be likewise made, that though David was guilty of murder and whoring, yet the Prophet made choice only of this last to astonish this Warlike Monarch, and raise his indignation against this Vice, when shadowed out under a foreign and borrowed representation. Though murder be so barbarous a crime in itself, that the Barbarians did instantly conclude Paul guilty of it, when they saw the viper fasten upon his hand. The unjustest caprice of lust is that whereby men contemn such as become their Wives, though they admired them when they were their Mistresses, for in this they confess, it is a meanness to be theirs; for since that time, the neglecters thought them amiable, they, sweet creatures have oft contracted no guilt, nor lessened the occasion of that esteem no otherwise, then by marrying their inconstant Gallants, who seemed to have so warm a passion for them. And it is strange, that men should admire their own Eloquence, Courage, Estates, and all things else they possess, for no other cause, then because they are their own; and yet should undervalue their Wives (the noblest thing they possess) upon this and no other account.  
I cannot think Nature such a Cheat, as that if Women had not been the excellentest of Creatures, it would have beautified them with Charms, and Armed their eyes with such piercing glances, that to resist them is the next impossibility to the finding a Creature that is more accomplished than they; And I confess, the love we bear them, is not only allowable in itself, as an inclination that is of its own nature Noble and Virtuous, but likewise, because it obliges such as are engaged in it, to despise all mean Vices, such as Avarice, or Fear, and is incompatible with all dissingenuous Arts, such as Dissimulation, or Flattery. And though such as are guilty of Whoring, do justify their debordings by a love to that glorious Sex, yet by this pretext they are yet more unjust and vicious than their former guilt made them; for by roving amongst so many, they intimat that they are not satisfied with their first choice; and that not only there are some of that Sex, but that there is none in it who deserves their entire affection. Or else, by dividing them amongst so many, they think their kindness sufficient to make numbers of Ladies happy; by both which errors, they wrong not only themselves by swearing otherways to the Ladies to whom they make love, but they wrong likewise the innocence and amiableness of that sweet Sex, in whom no rational man can find a blemish, besides their esteem for such persons, as these, who indeed admire them no where but in their compliments, and who are oft so base, that not only their society is scandalous, but they are ready to tempt, such as they frequent; or if they fail in this, are oft so wicked, that they, to satisfy either their revenge, or vanity, do brag of intimacies, and allowances which they never possessed. If then Gallant would be loved by their Mistresses, they must be Virtuous, seeing such love only these who are secret, many things passing amongst even Platonics, which should not be revealed. These who are courageous, seeing this is appointed to be a protection to the weakness of their Sex, and these who are constant, seeing to be relinquished, infers either a want of wit, in having chosen such as would quite them without a defect, or else that they were abandoned because of defects, by such as the world may justly from their first ardency, conclude, would never have abandoned them without these: What Lady without a cheat, will be induced to love one wasted with Pox and inconstancy? one whom Drunkenness makes an unfit Bedfellow, as well as a friend? and though some worship the Relics of Saints, yet none but these who are mad, as well as vicious, will worship the Relics of Sinners.  
Neither is the meanness of this Vice taken off, by the greatness of these with whom it is shared: which may be clear from this, that either affection, interest, or ambition, are in the design of these offenders. If affection, it should excuse no more her who is Whore to a Monarch, then her who is such to a Gentleman; for affection respects the person, but not the condition of such as are loved: And it is certainly then most pure, when it cannot be ascribed to, nor needs the help of either riches to bribe, or power to recommend it. But if riches be designed, than the committer is guilty both of Avarice and Whoring, and she is not worthy to be a Mistress, who can stoop to a Fee like a Servant. And she who designs honour and repute by these Princely Amours, is far disappointed: For though she may command respect, yet esteem is not subject to Sceptres: And I am confident, that Lucretia, who choosed rather to open her Veins to a fatal Lance, than her Heart to the Embraces of a Sovereign, is more admired than Thais, Poppaa, Jean Shore, and Madam Gabriel, whose obedience to their own Kings, was a crime in them, though it was loyalty in others. Blushes are then the noblest kind of Paint for Ladies, and Chastity is their most charming Ornament: And if these would send out their Emissaries, to learn by them how to reform their errors, as they oft do to inform their revenge, they would easily perceive, that loose men laugh at their kindness, virtuous men undervalue them, and it. And when ever any Judgement is poured out upon the Kingdom, or misfortune overtakes these Minions, than all is ascribed by Divines, to their looseness; and it is one of the allowablest Cheats in Devotion, to invent miraculous resentments from Heaven upon their failours. Young Ladies, to recommend their own Chastity, are obliged, in good breeding, at least to say they hate them▪ Such as are married, are bound by their interest to decry such as may debauch their Husbands; and these who are old, rail against them, as those who place all happiness in what, because of age, they cannot pretend to: Whereas such as are chaste, are recommended with magnifying praises, for patterns to such as are vicious, and are copied as admirable Originals, by such as are Virtuous. And I cannot omit this one reflection, that chaste Women are more frequently tainted with Pride, then with any other Vice; Nature, as it were, allowing to them to raise their own value far above others, whom they have (almost) reason to contemn, as persons who prostitute themselves (which, and the word humbling, are the lessening Epithets of Whoring) and as such who are nasty, spotted and unclean.  
Lust and obscenity in Discourse, 
Obscenity.  run in a Vicious Circle, and by an odious Incest beget one another; for as lust prompts men to obscenity, so obscenity pimps men in to lust; but in this, obscenity is more culpable than lust, that in the one, men allege a natural advantage, and some a necessity; but in the other, they have no temptation, and so fall under that curse, Woe unto them that sin without a cause. In the one, men sin covertly, making by their blushes, as by a tacit confession, some atonement for their guilt; But in the other, men divulge their sin, and by graceing it, with what, if the subject were honest, might pass for wit, do invite such as wish to be repute wits, first to admire, and then to imitat them in their sinning; and the best of such as use that eloquence, become thereby most ignoble, being in effect but Cooks, who prepare Sauces for provoking a lustful appetite in their hearers. And I admire, that seeing Comedians are hist off the Stage, when they attempt it, that such as are so far greater than these, as Masters are above Buffoons, should imagine they can magnify themselves by it. This Vice may well enough be ranged under one of the species of Sodomy, seeing such as use it, employ in their lust these members, which were so far from being destinat for so low uses, that the Psalmist in saying, he will praise God with his glory (which Interpreters render to be the Tongue) doth show us, that our Tongues are amongst the noblest parts of our Body. And when I consider how melodious it is in its harmonies; how eloquent in its expressions; how whole multitudes are reclaimed from their greatest furies by it; and how Cicero is in spite of all his other faults, so admired for it, that thousands sweat and toil daily, to make one in that number, wherein he is acknowledged to be by them all, far the first. When I consider how miraculously it expresses, with the same motion, so varying sounds, that though mankind be innumerable, yet each in it hath his distinct tone and voice, and how, with little different positions, it signets the same Air with words so extremely differing, that one may think that each man hath a spirit speaking out of him. I must fall out in regrates and wonders, that, and how, so excellent a faculty is so much abused! Neither must we conclude, that because such go away unanswered, that they owe this to the sharpness of their wit, but rather to the depravedness of its subject, wherewith the greatest part of accurate spirits are so little acquainted, that some know not the terms, and others know them only to hate them. We must not think that we admire for wits, such still, at whom we laugh: and I believe many laugh at such as are profane, as they do at such as they see slip and catch a fall, though never so dangerous. I regrate in this Vice, both to see sharp men so Vicious, and so much wit so missimployed; for though we may say here, that Materiam superabat opus, yet such is the abjectness and worthlessness of the matter, that it is not capable of ornament, no more than excrements are to be admired, though they were gilded, and carved out by the most curious hand; and their wit is at least to be charged with this error, that it choises not subjects worthy of their pains: for whereas the quaintness of fancy doth, when employed about indifferent subjects, beget its Master's respect; and when upon excellent admiration, all that it can do here is but to excuse the faults it makes, and so at least is so beggarly an employment, that it is scarce able to defray its own charges. I account him no wit, who cannot deserve that name, though he be barred any one subject, especially such a subject as obscenity is, wherein former Trafficquers have been so numerous, and so vacant from other employments, that as nothing which is excellent, so little that is new can be said upon it; and what is said, is transmitted from ear to ear, with so much of secrecy, that as no Historian will write it, so fewer will know it, then will know any of these witty productions of learning, or moral Philosophy, which all men indifferently desire to read and repeat, Whereas this will be altogether suppressed from succeeding ages, and of the present Ladies, Statesmen, lawyers, Divines and Physicians are not allowed to give it audience. I have heard Women, though loose, say, that they loved none of these who published their shame, though they satisfied their Lust; and that such did oft evaporat their Lust in these raileries, or design to supply their defects in such discourses. And I know that Lackeys, or Bawds, will be more accurate in that kind of eloquence, than the noblest of such as use it (if any who are Noble use it at all.) Men must either think Women great Cheats, in loving what they weep or blush at, or else they are very cruel, in tormenting their ears with so grating sounds. And if Women be such excellent Creatures, as men's Oaths and Compliments make them, certainly Obscenity must be a mean Vice, seeing of all others, such decry it most. For compliance with whom, it is strange that these who offer to die, will not much rather abandon a piece of imaginary wit; and which passeth not even for such, but amongst these who are scarce competent Judges. It is most ungentle many for such as frequent Ladies, to spend so much time in studying a kind of wit, that not only cannot be serviceable, but which cannot in any case be acceptable, or recreative to these lovely persons, for whose divertisement and satisfaction, even these obscene Ranters do pretend that they employ all their time and pains, and whom they will doubtless at some occasions offend, by slipping into one of these criminal expressions, which custom will so familiarize, that it will be as impossible for them to abstain, as it will be for these others to hear what is so spoke, without trouble and dissatisfaction. Such as have their noble Souls busied about great matters, find little time to invent expressions, or mould thoughts concerning such pitiful subjects; And I appeal to the worst of these, if they do not abominat such as are in History noted for Obscenity, and if they would not hate any, who would adorn their Funeral Harangue, with no other praises, but that they were so wittily profane, that they would force Ladies to blush, Debauchees to laugh, Statesmen to undervalue them, and chase Divines from their Table.  
Avarice is so base a Vice, 
Avarice and Liberality.  that the term Sordid is improperly used in Morality, when it is otherwise applied, and by terming one a Noble Person, we intent to signify, that he is liberal: This is that Vice, which by starving great designs, hinders them to grow up to their full dimensions. None will carry about dismembered bodies, and wear scars in their service, or to gain victories for these, whose avarice will so little reward their pains, that they ofttimes refuse to supply these necessities which were contracted in their own employments. No great man can have both the hearts and the purses of his inferiors: And few have been famous, or prosperous, but such as have been as ready to bestow riches upon their friends, as they have been ready to take spoil from their enemies. Themistocles finding himself tempted to look upon a great Treasure, blushed at his error; and turning to his Servant, said, Take thou that Money, for thou art not Themistocles. Rome then begun to be jealous of Caesar's greatness, when he begun to put the Army in his debt; It was said of that Noble Duke of Guise, that he was the greatest Usurer in France, for he laid out his Estate in Obligations; And Tacitus observes, that Vespasian had equalled the greatest of the Roman Hero's, if his Avarice had not lessened his other Virtues: Which is the observation made by Philip de Comines, upon Lewis the 11th of France. Perseus, out of love to his Treasures, lost both his Kingdom and these, being as a punishment to his Avarice, led in triumph in the company of his Coffers, by a Roman General, who gloried, and is yet famous for having died almost a Beggar. The World love, esteem, and follow such as are liberal; Historians celebrat their Names; Soldiers fight their Battles, and their Beeds-men importune Heaven for success to their Arms; but no man can have a kindness for such as will prefer to them a little stamped earth, or value no obligations, but these which bind to a paying of Money. And it is well concluded by the World, that no vast soul can restrict all its thoughts to that employment, which is the Task of Porters and Cobblers. In this Vice we make our Souls to serve our Riches, whereas in its opposite Virtue, Riches and every thing else (whose price these may be) are by such as are truly liberal, subjected to the meanest employment, to which the Soul can think them conducive: And the Soul is too Noble and well appointed an apartment, to be filled with Coffers, Bags, and such like trash; which even these, who value them most, hoard up in their darkest and worst furnished Rooms: And such as are liberal, are the Masters (for it belongs to these only to spend) whereas the Avaricious are in effect but their Cash-keepers, who have the power to keep, but not the allowance to spend what is under their custody. I am confident, that Zeno is more famous (and to be rich serves for nothing else) for throwing away his Money, when it begun to trouble his nobler thoughts, than Croesus, whose Mountainous Treasures served only to bribe a more valiant Prince, to destroy them and it. And Marcus Crassus, the richest Roman, was so far undervalved by Julius Cesar, that he said he would make himself richer in one hour, than these riches could their Master, which came accordingly to pass, when by his liberality he gained the Roman Soldiery, and they gained for him the Empire of that World, whereof Croesus' Estate was but a small one, though his Avarice made it a great spot in him. This Vice implies a present sense of want, and a fear of future misery, to be hoarding up what serves for nothing else, except to prevent, or supply us in these conditions. But Noble Spirits, who design Fame and Conquests, Virtue and Religion, raise their thoughts above this low Vice, and design not to gain Riches, but Men, who are Masters of these; and with whom when gained, thy can soon bring all things to their devotion: And therefore in point of Honour we are obliged to hate Avarice, and cherish Liberality.  
Though treason cheats with fair hopes of glory and advancement, 
Rebellion and perfidy.  and at least this Vice pretends to have whole Woods of Laurels at its disposal, yet the most ordinary preference it gains men, is the being first amongst fools and vicious persons; for they are then wronging both that honour they possess, and that to which they aspire, when they by their usurpation learn others how sweet it is to rebel against their Superiors. And such as employ the Commons against their Sovereign, must expect to allow them greater liberty than suits with the honour of Governors, and must style themselves the servants of the people; How meanly must these flatter that unreasonable crew? Swear friendship with such as have wronged their honour, lie, dissemble, cheat, beg, meet in dark corners with their associates, and suffer as much toil and misery, as wants nothing but the nobleness of the quarrel to make them Martyrs. It is not safe for any man in point of Honour, to undertake designs wherein it is probable he will fail, and wherein if he fail, it is most certain that his honour will suffer: And there is no crime wherein men are more like to fail, then in this, the rabble whom they employ, being as uncertain, as they are a furious instrument: And like the Elephant, ready still to turn head against such as employ them in Battle; And who will trust the promise of these Leaders, (for without large promises, Rebellion can never be effectuate) who in these promises are betraying their own Alledgeance? and such as these employ, will (at least may) consider, that how soon they have effectuate these treacherous designs, they will either disdain the Instruments, as useless, or destroy them as dangerous, and as such, who by this late experience, are abler to ruin them, than they were their Predecessors. And when such Traitors are disappointed of their designs, they are laughed at as fools (for nothing but success can clear them from that imputation) and exposed to all the Ludibrie, and thereafter to the tortures of Enemies, who cannot but be violent Executioners, seeing their ruin was sought by the Rebellion. Is there any thing more ignoble than ingratitude? And these Traitors are ingrate, seeing none can pretend to these Arts but such as have been by the bounty of these, against whom they rebel, advanced to that height, which hath made them giddy; and to that favour with the people, upon which they bottom their hopes. And do not Men and Story talk more advantageously of Footmen and Slaves, who have relieved their Masters, then of the greatest of such as have rebelled against their Princes? all mankind being concerned to magnify that wherein their own safety is concerned, and to decry these Arts, whereby their ruin is sought. That same people who cut Sejanus in as many pieces as he had once favourites, did raise a Statue to Pompey's Slave, for staying by the Carcase of his dead Master. And as Alexander hanged Bessus, who had betrayed to him his Master Spitamenes and Antigonus caused Massacre these Hygeraspides, who had betrayed the gallant Eumenes: So Charles the ninth of France, did refuse to punish such as had opposed him, when he was in Rebellion; for, said he, such as have been faithful to the King, against me, when I was but Duke of Orleans, will be faithful to me, when I am raised from being Duke of Orleans, to be King of France.  
Inconstancy is likewise an ignoble Vice, 
Inconstancy.  seeing it shows, that either men were foolish in their first choice, or, that they were foolish in relinquishing it; it shows that men are too much subject to the impressions of others, and small or light things are these which are soon blown off from their first stations: Whereas virtuous and constant persons do show their greatness in the impossibility of their being removed. This Vice likewise is unfit for such as design great matters, seeing no party will care much to gain such for friends, whom they cannot retain; and when they tell you that such are not worth their pains, they tell you how mean an esteem they put upon inconstancy. All affairs in the World are subject to change; and it is most certain, that some occasion, or other, will somewhat raise all parties: To be constant then to any one, will gain him who is fixed, the honour of being sure to his friends, which will magnify him amongst such as are indifferent, and procure him respect even from his enemies, who will admire him for that quality, which by ensuring their own friends to them, will advantage their interest more than they can be prejudged by him, as their enemy, how considerable soever he be▪ Augustine's greatness cannot persuade the World to pardon him this fault, nor can Cato's severity; nor self-murder, dissuade them from admiring that constancy, which had as much extraordinary Gallantry in it, as may be a remission for his crime: Besides, that it made Cesar (even when his Victories had raised him to his greatest height and vanity) regrate the losing an opportunity to gain so great a person.  
There is amongst many others, 
An Invective against unconstant friendships.  one effect of inconstancy, which I hate, as mean, and unworthy of a Gentleman, and that is, to alter friendships upon every elevation of Fortune; as if (forsooth) men were raised so high, that they cannot from these Pinnacles know such whom they have left upon the first level: but really this implies a weakness of sight in them, and no imperfection in their friends, upon whom they cast down their looks, and who continue still of their first stature, though the others eyes continue not to possess the same clearness. A generous person should not entertain so low thoughts of himself, as to think that what is the gift of another, can add so much to his intrinsic value, as to make him confess in the undervaluing of his former friends, the meanness of his own parts, and former condition: And he obstructs extremely his own greatness, who obliges his friends to stop, and retard it, as what may be disadvantageous to their interest, by robbing them of so rare an advantage as is a friend. Whereas the noblest trial of power is, to be able to raise these whom men honoured formerly with that Title: For by this, others will be invited to depend upon them, and they may thereby justify their former choice, and let the World see, that they never entered upon any friendship that was mean, or low.  
Friendship, the greatest of Commanders, hath commanded us to stay by our friend, and he who quites the Post assigned to him, is either cowardly, or a fool; and a Gentleman should think it below his courage, as well as his friendship, to be boasted from a station which he thought so advantageous, out of fear of either Fate, or Interest: Which recommends much to me that gallant Rant in Lucan, when after he had preferred Cato to other men, he, in these words, extols him above the gods,  Victrix causa diis placuit sed victa Catoni. The gods did the Victorious approve, But the great Cato did the Vanquished love. 
But lest my tediousness should make the constancy I plead for, seem a Vice, I shall say no more of a Subject, whereof I can never say enough.  
Drunkennels is so mean a Vice, 
` Drunkenness.  that I scorn to take notice of it, knowing that none will allow it, but such as are mad; and such as are mad are not to be reclaimed by Moral Discourses. Yet I cannot but press its meanness from this, that though Noah was a person of the greatest authority, his once being drunk, is remarked in Scripture, to have made him despicable in the eyes even of his own Children (whom he had also lately obliged to a more than natural respect, by saving them from that deludge, which drowned in their sight the remanent of mankind.) And yet he might have excused himself, more than those of this age, as not knowing the strength of that newfound Wine: And having been drunk but once, might have defended himself by curiosity, which too few now can allege. It is a mean and mad compliment, to requite the kindness of such as come to visit us, with forcing them (after the fatigue of travel) to drink to such excess, that they commit and speak such follies, as make them return home from that strange place, without being remarked for any thing else, than the ridiculous expressions they vomited up with their stinking Excrements. Why are Servants turned out of doors, and each man (which is very mean) obliged to serve himself, when men enter upon that beastly employment? Is it not, that Servants may not hear, or see, what extravagancies are there to be committed? And is it not an ignoble part in persons of honour, to do resolutely what they dare not own before the meanest who attend them? Men by this Vice bring themselves to need their Servants Legs to walk upon, and their Eyes to see by; but which is worse, they must be governed at that time, by the servile discretion of such (who will be emboldened by this, to undervalue both them and their commands) and these Masters are accounted wisest, who do most submissively follow their directions. Judge if that exercise can be Noble, which in disabling us to serve our friends, makes us uncapable to discern the favours they do us, and measure its disadvantages by this, that when men have their Senses benighted with the vapours of Wine, they are thereby unfit to lead Armies, to assist at Councils, to sit in Judicatories, to attend Ladies, and differ nothing from the being dead, but that they would be much more innocent if they were so. Men are then very ready to attaque unjustly the honour of others, and most unable to defend their own: And such as they wrong then, do with a scornful mercy pardon their failings with the famness of disdain, which makes them forgive fools, or furious persons: And that in my judgement should be the most touching of all affronts. And if we esteem Roots according to the prettiness of these Flowers they display (as if they would give a grateful account to the Sun, of what its warmness has produced) certainly we will find drunkenness (as the Apostle speaks of Avarice) the root of all bitterness. For this is that Vice, which keeps men at present from attending such of their own, and of their friends interests, as concern most their Fame: And as to the future, begets such diseases, and indispositions, as makes their bodies unfit instruments for great achievements. And seeing to talk idly, is the most pardonable of its errors (which is so unworthy a Character, that no Gentleman would suffer another to give it of him, without hazarding his life in the revenge) it's other madness must be beyond all remission. By this, men are brought to disgorge the deepest buried secrets, to reveal the intimacies, or asperse the names of Ladies, to enter upon foolish quarrels, and the next morning, either to abjure what they said, or fight injustly their Commerads; and Victory is not in that case rewarded with Fame, but is tainted with the aspersion of a drunken quarrel, and is ascribed not to courage, but to necessity.  
I confess, whoring is in this a more extensive Vice, than others; that it corrupts still two at once, for no man can sin so alone, but drinking (as if it scorned not to be the greatest Vice) does surpass it in another quality, which is, that one vicious person can force, or tempt whole tables, and companies to be drunk with him: and if great men should be known to love this Vice, all such as have need to accost them, would be in danger, either by complacency, or interest, to plunge themselves into this miserable excess. In other Vices, men debauch only their own rational Souls; but here men add to that, the ingratitude of employing against GOD, and Nature, these Rents and Estates, which were kept by providence, from more pious persons, that great men might by that testimony of his kindness, be engaged to a religious retribution. So that such as employ their Estates, in maintaining their Drunkenness, commit almost the same Sacrilege with Beltshazzar, who was terrified by a miraculous hand upon the Wall, delivering him his fatal sentence, for carousing with his Nobles in the sacred Vessels, that were robbed from the Temple of Jerusalem.  
My Employment, as well as Philosophy, 
Injustice.  oblidges me to implead Injustice as the worst of Vices; because it wrongs the best of men, and the best of things; the best of men, seeing they have still the best of Plea's. And so, Injustice can only reach them, and these will not by Flattery, Bribing, or Cheats, conciliat the esteem of such, as have a latitude to return them this unjust advantage; which good men neither need, nor will accept. Injustice likewise, debauches the Law, which is the best of things; and in affronting whereof, of all others, great men are (when guilty) most ungrate: because, it is their Guardian, & Fence by which they exact respect and treasures from others; and without which, such Magistrates are unjust, could not escape these hourly massacres, which a robbed and oppressed people would pour upon them. And though such, as are generously injust, intent thereby to compliment their friends, or repay old favours; Yet in effect, this requital, is as base, as if one should rob a Church, to pay his particular debts. He is not worthy of your friendship, who will expect such returns: And Virtue is not like Vice, so penurious or poor, as that it cannot build upon any other foundation, than the ruins of another. Such as intend by their injustice to gain esteem, from the party advantaged thereby, are much mistaken; for though, they should gain the esteem of one thereby, yet they would lose that of many thousands; and he who is wronged, will disclose the injustice done him, more than the other dare brag of the favour. And I have myself heard, even the gainer hate and undervalue his injust Patron, loving not the traitor but the treason: Considering, that by that precedent, himself was laid open to more hazard, than he thereby reaped of advantage; for that same injustice, which insured him of his late conquest, made him unsure both of it, and all that he had or should gain thereafter. And to be injust for a bribe, is as mean, as to serve in the worst of employments for a fee, it is to be as base as a thief, and less noble than a robber; and it deserves all these base reproaches, that are due to Avarice, Lying, Flattery, Ingratitude, Treachery and Perjury: All which, are sharers in this Caper when it prospers, and when it prospers not, it leads to these ignoble Ports, Infamy, Poverty, the Scaffold, Pillory or Gibbets.  
Though my having usurped so far upon the Readers patience, 
public spiritedness.  makes all I can say for the future, criminal, Yet such respect I owe, and such I bear, to the memory of these noble Patriots, who have by their public spiritedness, settled for us that peace, whose native product, all our joys are: that I cannot but recommend, that protecting Virtue to such as live now, for the noblest ornament of a great Soul, and if our actions be specified and measured by their objects, certainly these Souls must be accounted greatest, which centre all their cases upon the public good, scorning to wind up their designs upon so small a bottom, as is private interest. By this, the Heathens became Gods, and Christians do by it (which is more) resemble theirs. This is the task of Kings and Princes; whereas private interest is the design of Churls and Cobblers: who can so justly expect universal praise, as these who design universal advantage? and none will grudge, that riches should be carried into his treasurs, who keeps them but as Joseph did his corn in granaries, till others need to have their necessities supplied. These are deservedly styled Patres Patriae, and it is accounted moral Parricide, to wound the reputation of such as the Commonwealth terms its Parents. And when these Treasures which private interest have robbed from the public, shall, after they have stained the acquirer with the names of avarice and cruelty, invite posterity to recall them from his offspring, as not due to them; Then such as have like Providence toiled only for the good of their Country, and Mankind, shall find their Fame like Medals, grow still the more illustrious, by all accessions of time; and that the new born Generations shall augment the numbers of their admirers, more than following years can moulder away these heaps of Coin, which avaricious men raised as a Monument for their memory. Epaminondas is more famous and admired, than Croesus; and Fame may be better believed concerning him, seeing he left neither Gold, nor Money, to bribe from it a suffrage. And albeit he was so busied in raising the glory of his Country, that he had no time to gain as much Money, as to raise the meanest for his own; Yet we find him at no loss thereby, seeing▪ each Theban assisted at his Funeral, as a Mourner: And Nature lays it as a duty upon all whom it brings to the World, to magnify him who endeavoured to resemble it, in the universalities of his favours. That glorious Roman, who threw himself into the devouring Gulf, to avert the wrath of the gods from his Country, did, in exchange of a few years (which he but might have lived) add an eternity of Fame to his age; and by the gloriousness of that action, has buried nothing in that Gulf, but his personal faults. And Brutus, by dying for his Country, is not more justly called the last of Romans, than he may be called the first of men. And for my part, I think that he sacrificed Cesar, rather as a Victim to his injured Country, then to his private malice. For as Mr. Couley well remarks, the pretext of friendship▪ can be no reason, why a man should suffer without resentment, his Mother to be violated before his eyes. Paul likewise, whom grace had raised as much above these, as reason had raised these above others, was so zealous in this Virtue, that after he had known the joys of Heaven more intimately, than others, who had not like him travelled through all these starry Regions; Yet such was his affection to his▪ Country, that he was content, to have his name deleted out of the Book of Life, that room might be made for theirs. But if men will love nothing but what will advance their private interest, they will at least, upon this score, love their Country, because, when it becomes famous, they will share in the advantage: As the being a Roman, was sufficient to make one terrible, when Rome flourished. And I imagine, that it was sufficient to incite one of that glorious Republic, to undertake, or suffer the hardest of things, to remember him that he was a Roman: and at all times the unacquainted still esteem us, according to the presumptions they can gather from our Country, Race, and Education. For besides that a Hawk of a good nest is still preferred: We see, that example and emulation, are the strongest motives that can either induce, or enable men to be noble and valorous; and though some term this but a fancy, yet, granting it were no more, it is such a fancy, as tends much to our honour, because it heightens in others a fear of us, and lessens in us the fear of them. I may then conclude with this, that as the Rays of the Sun are accounted a more noble light, than any that is projected from a private Candle. And as amongst Perfumes, these are accounted noblest, whose emanations dart to the greatest distance; so amongst Souls, these are the most excellent, which respect most the advantage of others.  
I confess there are some Vices, 
Ambition is a mean, vice.  which by shrouding themselves under the appearance of good, do advance themselves too far in ill governed esteems, as we see in ambition, and revenge; Yet to our severer inquiries it will appear, that Ambition is ignoble, seeing such as desire to be promoted, confess the meanness of that state they press to leave. This Vice oblidges men to serve such as advance its designs, exchanging its present liberty, for, but the uncertain expectation of commanding others; and paying greater respects to Superiors for this expectation, than it will be able to exact from those whom it designs to subject. What is advancement, but the people's Livery? and such as expect their happiness from them, must acknowledge, that the Rabble is greater and nobler than themselves; and by exchanging their natural happiness, for that which is of its bestowing, they confess their own to be of the least value; for no man will exchange for what is worse. A Courtier admiring the Philosopher, gathering his Herbs, told him, that if he flattered the Emperor, he needed not gather Herbs; was answered, that if he could satisfy himself with Herbs, he needed not flatter the Emperor; and without doubt, flattery infers more dependence, then gathering of Herbs. And in the dispute for liberty, Diogenes had the advantage of the Stagarit, when he told him, Diogenes did dine when it pleased Diogenes, but Aristotle not till it pleased Alexander.  
Vanity is too airy a Vice to be noble, 
Vanity.  for it is but a thin crust of Pride, and but a pretending cadet of that gallant sin; It is I confess, less hurtful than Pride, because it magnifies itself, without disparraging others, (for if we admire others when compared with ourselves; we are not vain, but proud) and it is oft the Spur to great actions, being to our undertake, what some poisons are to Medicines; which, though they be hurtful in a dose apart, yet make the compounds they enter, more opperative and pointed. And I have heard some defend, that Vanity was no sin, because, in admiring ourselves, at a greater rate than we deserved, we without detracting from our Neighbour, heightened our debt to our Maker, which might be an error, but was no fault. But Vanity, being an error in our judgement, it cannot but be mean, as all errors are ignoble: And he is avery fool (which is the ignoblest of names) who understands not himself. He who understands not his own measures, cannot govern himself, and so is unfit to govern others; and it is the employment of a great Soul, rather to do things worthy to be admired, then to admire what himself hath done; but leaving to pursue the crowd of its ill effects, I shall single out some of these I judge most enemies to true gallantry, amongst which, I scruple not to prefer inmeanesse, the being vain of prosperity, and derived power: which shows, that we prefer, and admire more what others can bestow, than what we possess ourselves. Whereas, virtuous persons, may justly think, that nothing can make them greater, and to be vain of prosperity, shows we cannot bear it; and so concludes us under a weakness: To take advantages of others, when we are more powerful than they, is as base, as it is for an armed man to force his enemy to fight, when he has no weapon: this is cowardlienesse, not courage, and who defers not his revenge, till his rival be equal with him, implys a fear of grappling upon equal terms. That one expression, of one of the Kings of France, that he scorned when he was King of France, to remember the wrongs done to the Duke of Orleans, makes his name grateful in history, and if great men would reflect seriously, how a word from him they serve (though but a man who must himself yield oft times to a mean disaster) or how the least error in their own conduct, can overturn the fixtest of their endeavours, and make them in being unfortunat, ridiculous withal, certainly they would call this presumption, rather madness, than Vanity; and would conclude it more gallant, to bear adversity, with a generous courage, then to be a fool or flattered by prosperity, which vanquishes as oft, these for whom, as these against whom it fights.  
Neither can I leave this Period, till I inveigh against that meannest of Vanities; 
The meanness of being vain of riches and eestates.  whereby, men are vain of Estates and Territories: For, seeing Man is born Lord of all the World, why should he retrinch his own right, by glorying in so little a part of it, that his share will escape an exact Geographer. I wish such would remember, that Pompey bestowed Kingdoms upon his slaves, and yet Epictetus, who was a slave, is more admired, than he; and yet admired for nothing, but his Virtue: and why should men be proud, of enjoying that, upon which the meanest beggar pours out his excrements If these be vain, because they may call it their own, what hath the Master but that (as Solomon says) he beholdeth it with his eyes, and at this rate, I may glory, in that the glorious heavens are spread over me, for I may behold the one, with as impropriating eyes, as he can do the other. And he who wants a tomb, which these have, have the Heaven for a vault and burial place— coelo tegitur, qui non habet urnam.  
But if the answer be, that these Rents will allow them the keeping of a table for their Grandour (which I wish, were the only excuse) that answers makes them Servants, and burdens them with a necessity, to provide for such as they entertain; and so they are vain of being Servants, and Servants to such, as will rise from their table, to read and admire above them, Plato, Socrates, or which is less, the author of a well contrived play; but to leave this folly, these may have some pretext, for preferring their own Estates, above these of others, but why should they admire themselves for their Estates? which is no part of themselves, and so they should not in reason think better of themselves then others for it. Under the same condemnation fall such, as are vain of these Horses, Lackeys, or such like things, which is most injust, except their Horses and they were all one.  
Such as crust themselves over with embroideries, 
The meaness of vainity in apparel.  and after they have divided their time, betwixt their comb and their mirrors, are vain of these silly toys, which are the creatures and workmanship of Servants, must be certainly very low, and mean spirited, when they imagine to add to their natural value, by things that have no value in them, but what our Fancy (which is the most despicable quality of that Soul they neglect) gives them. And do not they amongst the rest of mankind, disparage very much even these Mistresses upon whom they bestow these adorations? which they deny their mighty Maker, when they imagine by such contemptible means, to screw themselves into their esteem. How ignobly undervalue they their own thoughts, the noble conversation of excellent men, and accurate Books (to write some whereof, Cesar, and the greatest of the Emperors have laid aside their Swords) when they impend upon Ribbans, and Laces, that age of time, which would be missimployed, though it were let out but in moments, upon such Womanly Exercises. But if Ladies, or their Suitors, will magnify these handsome shapes and colours, which are too often bestowed upon them, to repair the want of these noble qualities, of which those who are Masters may be more justly vain: Why are not they afraid? by whoring, fairding, drinking, gluttony, or macerating envy, to blast these florid advantages upon which themselves do, and would have others to dote.  
I must here endeavour to subdue one error, 
Preferment is not still honourable.  which is by so much the more dangerous, that it wears the fairest mask of all other Vices: and this is that whereby men are induced to believe, that true honour is but an appanage of preferment, and that preferment is seldom without honour, but honour comes never without preferment; and not only are the Lees of the people taken with this opinion, but the gallantest of men, who are Spheared far above those, do in this, slide easily into the sense of the Neighbourhood. Yet it remains still an error, for true honour is an innat elevation of the Soul, whereby it scorns every thing which is more mortal than itself, and nothing is more frail than preferment; whose paint is washed off by the least storm, and whose being depends upon the fancy, or humour of others: Whereas true honour is independent, and as it cannot flow from any other, so cannot stoop to them. He is truly gallant, whose innocence fears not the jurisdiction of men; and who looks upon Sceptres, and such Gilded Trifles, as impertinent toys, when they are not swayed by the hand of Virtue; and who would not value power for any other end, but to be a second to these inclinations which are so reasonable, that they should not need power to make them be obeyed? Tyrant's can bestow the tallest preferments, but they cannot make men truly honourable; which shows that these two differ. And Heliogabulus cook was still but a base fellow, though his Masters doting made him as great, as were his own Vices; A Statue becomes not taller by the height of its Basis, nor a Head more wise, or noble, for being adorned with a shaggy Plummage. Julius Cesar, though no Emperor, has a more lasting glory then Tiberius who was so. And Cato gloried more in that the people asked why he was not preferred, than he would have done in enjoying the greatest honours these had to bestow. Preferment is but the creation of men, but true honour is of GOD'S own creation; and as we should esteem this last as a Piece done by the Nobler Master, so we should love it best, because it is more our own, than what rises from another's favour. Greatness, when most advantageously bestowed, can but produce love, or fear; to beget fear, is not noble, because the Devil doth this most, and these who come next to him in baseness, come nearest him in this Brutes, Savages and Madmen, have sufficiency enough for that undertaking; but to beget love, is peculiar to true honour: and so generous a passion is Love, that it is soon elicit, when least commanded. A virtuous person is likewise a greater Governor, than he who suffers himself to be commanded by a Vicious Woman; a thirsty appetit, than that King who suffers himself to be led by the ears with flatterers, and to be forced by his own pride to disobey his reason, by which alone he is truly great, and which when any man disowns absolutely, he is to be thrown into a Dungeon, or Bedlam: Preferment leaves and obliges us to bow to others, for satisfying our interest, so that interest is confessed by great men, to be greater than they. But Virtue and true Honour teacheth us to subject our interest to ourselves, and puts it in our own power to make ourselves happy. And what a Pilot is in the Ship, a General in an Army, the Soul in the Body, that is a Philosopher amongst these with whom he converses. Necenim nunquam in tantum convalescet nequitia, nunquam sic contra virtutes conjurabitur, ut non virtutis nomen venerabile & Sacrum maneat. Sen. Epist. 14. To which purpose I must cite Statin. Silu.  Vive Mide gazis, & Lido ditior auro, Troica & Euphrate supra diademate foelix Quem non ambigui fasces, non mobile vulgus, Spemq●● metumque domas, vitio sublimior omni. Exemptus fatis. 
In revenge, we must use instruments, 
The ignobleness of revenge  who exact more, and will upbraid us more than the Law will do, when it satisfies us our wrongs. And does not the Philosopher, who denys that he can be wronged more nobly? then he who confesses, that he is both subject to wrongs, and hath received so great a one, that he cannot but pursue its revenge? he who con●eals his wrongs, is only wronged in private; whilst he who revenges his wrong, is wronged in public: and certainly, the public wrong is more ignoble. And seeing we conceive ourselves concerned in honour, to punish such as would divulge an affront, that was smothered, as soon as given: we can not but be said to wrong our own honour, when we in seeking revenge, proclaim such wrongs, as had else either evanisht, or been lessened by the concealment; which remembers me of a Story, that goes of an old man, at whose bald head, a rotten Orange being thrown in the street, clapped his Hat upon it; and said, I shall spill that Villains sport, who expected to see me come showing my head all besmeared over, and complaining of the injury. It is one of the most Picquant revenges, to undervalue our enemies so far, as not to think them worthy of our noticeing, and we show ourselves to be greater than they, when we let the world see, that they cannot trouble us, when children and fools do us the same things, that we fret at in others of more advanced years, we pass them without a frown; which shows, that it is not the acts done us by our enemies, but our own resentment, which in effect injures us; So that it is still in our power to vex such as design to affront us, by laughing at, or undervaluing these, and such like little endeavours as what cannot reach our happiness. He who pardons, proclaims that by so doing, he fears not his enemies for the future; but revenge implies a fear of what we desire upon that account to lessen. Thus cowards, and none but they, are cruel, seeing they then only account themselves secure, when their enemies have lost all capacity to resist. In revenge, we act the Executioner, but we personat a Prince when we pardon; in the one, we bestow a favour, and so are Noble, but in the other, we disclose our infirmity, which is ignoble.  
I admire Passive Courage, 
The gallantry of patience▪  as a Virtue which deserves its Palms best of all others, because it toils most for them, Honours and Rewards are but gifts to them, but they are conquests to it: And it merits as much praise, as it meets with injuries. Avida est periculi virtus, & quò tendat non quid passura sit cogitat, quoniam & quod passura est, gloriae pars est: This Virtue hath rather a greediness for, than a desire to find dangers; and seeing its sufferings make the greatest part of its glory, it runs out to meet them, thinking that to attend them, is a degree of cowardliness. And if we remark narrowly, we will find that all other Virtues owe their Gallantry to this: And have no other title to that glorious quality, but in so far as they borrow excellencies from it. Friendship is then only gallant, when to gratify our friends, we expose to injuries for them, either our persons, or interest. Gratitude is then Noble, when we consider not what we are to suffer; but what we owe, or (which is more gallant) what is requisite for the service of such as have obliged us. Justice is always excellent, but is then only most to be admired, when we resist temptations, and when we resolve to suffer for having been just; the envy and rage of these, who consider only how much they have been prejudged, but not how much the public good hath been thereby advanced.  
By this it is that a virtuous person shows how great he truly is, and that power and command were the instruments only, but not parts of his former worth. He who yields to affliction, shows that those who inflicts it, are greater than himself; but he who braves it, shows that it is not in the power of any thing but of guilt, to make him tremble. It is easy for one who is assisted by power and fate, to urge these advantages, but to dare these, shows a pitch beyond them: And this induces me to think, that passive courage is more noble than what is active: For one who fights gallantly in an open Field, and in the view, or front of an Army, is assisted by the example of others, by hope of revenge, or victory, and needs not much fear that death which he may shun, as probably as meet: But he who in a noble quarrel, adorns that Scaffold, whereupon he is to suffer, evinces that he can master Fate, and make danger less than his courage, and to serve him in acquiring Fame and Honour. But this Virtue deserves a larger room, than my present weariness will allow it in this Paper: and therefore I will leave it for praises to its own native excellencies.  
I shall (My Lords and Gentlemen) leave these reflections to your own improvement, for I am confident that the heat of your own zeal for Virtue, will kindle in your breasts such noble flames, as that by their blaze, ye may see further into this subject, than I can discover: And in this essay I desire to be esteemed no otherways presumptuous, than a Servant is, who lights his Master up these Stairs which himself intends to mount.  
FINIS.