A MORAL PARADOX: Maintaining, That it is much easier to be VIRTUOUS then VICIOUS. By Sir George Mackeinzie.  JER. 9 5.— They weary themselves to commit iniquity. 
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 Sir ROBERT MURRAY, One of the Honourable Members of the Royal SOCIETY.  
Sir,  
THough I cannot but with much thankfulness resent your favours (wherein ye did both prevent, and outdo my wishes) yet it were a disparagement to them, that I should look upon myself as your debtor for them, seeing ye bestowed them so freely, that they appeared gifts, not obligations. And so in this Dedication, I design to pay, not them, but my respects. Neither intent I by it, to recommend you to Posterity, for in that I would disoblige Fame, which hath resolved, by speaking truth of you, to repair and atton its former guilt, in having so oft lied of others. But, Sir, I have chose you to be the Patron of this Book, because your practice is the strongest Argument, whereby I can evince what is undertaken in it, which is to prove, That there is more ease in Virtue then in Vice. And seeing to undertake the proof of this, were the next crime to the doubting of it: And since your Worthiness, and my esteem of it, are much raised above the frail helps of Compliment, or a wearying Dedication, let me assure you, and the World of both, by the innocent vanity I take in the title of  
Your sincere friend, and humble Servant, Geo. Mackenzie.   

It is easier to be Virtuous then Vicious.  
AS these Spies deserved ill of the Israelitish Camp, 
Numb. 13  who having inflamed their breasts with desires of conquering Canaan, by presenting them of its Vines, whose each Cluster was a Vintage, and each Grape a Bottle; did thereafter, by a cruel parricide, destroy these same inclinations which they had begot, by telling those their hopeful Brethren, that the Country was as unconquerable, as pleasant; And that its men were Giants, as well as its fruits. So by the same measures we have reason to fear, that these Divines & Moralists, are unhappy guides to us poor Mortals, who after they have edged our inclinations for Virtue, as the most satisfying of all objects, do thereafter assure us, that it is attended with as much difficulty, as it is furnished with pleasure: And that like some coy Lady, it possesses charms, not to satisfy, but to exact our longings. This infortunate error hath in all probability, sprung either from the vanity of these Bastard Philosophers, who having cheated the people into an esteem for themselves, as Virtuous, resolved by a second Artifice, to heighten that esteem, by persuading these their admirers, that Virtue was a work of as much difficulty, as it met with praise. Or else from the zeal of some Preachers, who, to make us antedate our Repentance, resolved to persuade us, that Faith and these other Spiritual Virtues, could not but be hardly attainable (as certainly they are) when Moral Virtue, which is a lower Story of perfection, was of so difficult an ascent. Or (which is yet most probable) our laziness, and Vicious habits being called to an account for these misfortunes, which they occasion, have run themselves under the protection of this defence, that Virtue is most difficult and uneasy, and is destitute of both pleasure and advantage: By which conceit, many are dissuaded in this age, from undertaking a resolution of being Virtuous, though otherwise they much honour it; and wickedness is not only furnished by this, with an excuse to detain such as it hath already overtaken, but with charms to entangle these who are yet stated in an indifferency for either. And though the heat of zeal in Preachers, should not be too much disproved in this age, where in the coldness of their hearers charity, needs those warmer influences, and though they may be allowed to bend our crooked humours to the contrary side of what they incline to, of design to bring them to a desired straightness. Yet if we consider that infallible Theology delivered by our Saviour, we may find, that he invited his Disciples, by assuring them, that his yoke was easy, and his burden very light, and by upbraiding them, for wearying themselves with their sins, and for troubling themselves about many things. And since the former Artifice, hath either by being too familiarly preached, lost its operation, with such as love curiosity, or by being too severely pressed, discouraged too much these who love too well their own flesh and blood, to welcome any Doctrine that stands so opposite to it: I wish these same Preachers would now endeavour to reclaim mankind, by assuring them, that Virtue is much easier, and much more advantageous then Vice. Imitating in this their great Master, who, after his Disciples had wearied themselves with catching no Fish all the night over, did, by persuading them to throw out their Nets upon the other side of their Boat, put them upon the way of catching more at one draught, than they had catcht in their former whole nights fishing. But leaving (with much resignation) my Ghostly Fathers to manage the course of our Devotion, as their knowledge and piety shall judge most fit; I shall endeavour to clear from reason and experience, that Moral Virtue is of less fatigue, and suits better with our natural inclinations, than Vice, or Passion doth. And although I fail in an undertaking which is too noble an enterprise, to receive its accomplishments from so weak a hand, yet if I shall excite others, out of pity to me, or glory because of the subject, to defend what I could not, or to love that Virtue which I recommend, I shall rest satisfied with a return, which because it will be above my merit, I have already placed above my expectation; and so I may meet with a foil, but cannot with a disappointment.  
All creatures design ease, 
Ease commended.  and for this, not only Bruits do toil, but inanimat things likewise show; for it so much of inclination, that they will destroy all intermediat objects, that hinders them from joining to their centre, to which they have no other tendency, but because there they find that ease, which is desired by their nature: and because all things find ease in it, therefore all things flee thither, as to the loveliest of all stations. And that happiness consists in ease, is clear from this, that either we want that we need as the accomplishment of our nature, and then nature most move towards the acquisition of what it wants; or else we want nothing, and then nature will enjoy itself without any further motion, nam natura nihil agit frustra; and it were most frustraneous for nature, to seek what it wants not: From which we may conclude, when we see any creature restless, and in motion, that certainly it either wants something to which it moves, or is oppressed by a surcharge of somewhat, from which it flies. This hath made Philososophers conclude, that all motion tends to some rest; Lawyers, that all debates respect some decision; Statesmen, that all War is made in order to Peace; Physicians, that all fermentation and boiling of the blood or humours, betokens some dissatisfaction in the part affected; (And to show how much happiness they place in ease, they term all sickness diseases) which imports nothing more, than the absence of ease, that happiest of States, and root of all Perfections; and that Divinity may sing a part in this requiem, Scripture tells us, that GOD hallowed the seventh day, because upon it he rested from his creation, and that Heaven is called an eternal Sabbath, because there we shall find ease from all our labours, there GOD is said, when well pleased, to have savoured a sweet savour of rest, and he recommends his own Gospel as a burden that is easy. That then wherewith I shall task myself in this discourse, shall be to prove, that Virtue is more easy then Vice.  
For clearing whereof, 
Vicious persons most dissemble Virtue, which is difficulter then to be virtuous.  consider, that all men who design either honour, riches, or to live happily in the World, do either intend to be virtuous or at least pretend it; these who resolve to destroy the liberties of the people, will style themselves keepers of their liberties; and such as laugh at all Religion, will have themselves believed to be reformers; and of these two, the pretenders have the difficultest part, for they must not only be at all that pains, which is requisite in being virtuous, but they must superadd to these, all the troubles that dissimulation requires, which certainly is a new and greater task than the other; and not only so, but these most over act Virtue, upon design to take off that jealousy, which because they are conscious to themselves to deserve, they therefore vex themselves to remove: Moses the first, and amongst the best of the reformers, was the meikest man upon the face of the earth; But jehu who was but a counterfeit Zealot, drove furiously, and called up the Bystanders to see, what else he knew they had reason not to believe; and the justest of all Israel's Chair-men, took not so much pains to execut justice, as Absalon, who is said to have stayed as long in the gates of jerusalem, as the Sun stayed above them, informing himself of all persons and affairs, though with as little design to redress their wrongs, as he showed much inclination to know them; and all this, that the people might be gained to be the instruments of his unnatural Rebellion; and such is the laboriousness of these seeming coppiers of Virtue, that in our ordinar conversation, we are still jealous of such as are too studious to appear virtuous, though we have no other reason to doubt their sincerity, but what arrises from their too great pains, from which we may conclude, that these who intent to be virtuous, have a much easier task than these pretenders have, because they have not their own conscience, nor the jealousness of others to wrestle against; and which is yet worse, these want that habit of Virtue, which renders all the pains of such as are really virtuous easy to them, and what is more difficult, then for these to act against customs, which time renders a second nature; and which, as shall be said hereafter, is so prevalent, as to facilitat to virtuous persons the hardest part of what Virtue commands: Besides this, these dissemblers have a difficult part to act, seeing they act against their own inclinations, which is to offer violence to nature, and the working not only without the help of that strongest of all seconds, but the toiling against it, and all the assistance it can give: which how great a torment it proves, appears from this, that such as have as much generosity, as may entitle them to the name of Man, will rather weary out the rage of torture, then injure their own inclinations. I imagine that Haman was much distressed, by being put to lead Mordecai's horse in compliance with his Master's commands; and one who is obliged by that interest, which makes him dissemble to counterfeit a kindness for one whom he hates, or emit an applause of what he undervalues, is certainly by that necessity more cruciat by a thousand stages, than such as intend upon a virtuous account to love the person, and really to praise that in him, which they are forced to commend; which is so far from being a torment, when it is truly virtuous, that that real love makes him who has it, hungry of an occasion to show it, and to pursue all means for heightening that applause, which torments the other consider what difficulty we find in going one way, whilst we look another, and with what hazard of stumbling that attempt is attended, and ye will find both much difficulty and hazard to wait on dissimulation, wherein we are tied to a double task, for we must do what we intent, because of our inclinations, and what we pretend, because of our professions; and if we fail in either, which is more probable, then where simplicity only is professed, (two tasks being difficulter then one,) then the world laughs at us, for failing in what we proposed: And we fret at ourselves, for failing in what was privately designed; and not only does dissimulation tie us to a double, but it obliges us to two contrary tasks, for we needed not dissemble, if what we intent, be not contrary to what we pretend; and thus men in dissimulation do but (like Penelope,) undo in the night, what they were forced to do in the day time.  
Dissimulation makes Vice likewise the more difficult, in that dissemblers are never able to recover the loss they sustain by one escape, for if they be catcht in their dissimulation, or dogged out to be impostors (which they cannot miss, but by a more watchful attendance, than any that Virtue requires) than they of all persons are most hated, not only by these whom they intended to cheat, but by all others, though inconcerned in the crime, and both the one and the other do yet hate it, as what strikes at the root of all humane society: and for this cause, murder under trust, is accounted so impious and sacrilegious a breach of friendship, that Lawyers have heightened its punishment, from that of ordinar murder, to that of treason; and the grossest of Politicians have confessed this dissimulation to be so horrid a crime, that it was not to be committed for a less hire than that of a Kingdom: Whereas virtuous persons have their escapes, oftener pitied then punished, both because these escapes are imputed to no abiding habit, and because it is not to be feared that they will offend for the future, seeing what they last failed in, was not the effect of any innate and permanent quality, but was a transient and designless frailty.  
Dissimulation is from this likewise more painful than the Virtue which it emulates, that the Dissembler is obliged not only so to dissemble, as that these whom he intends to cheat, may believe him serious; but so likewise, as that others may understand that he is not serious: Thus I have myself seen a Gentleman, who dissembled a love and fondness for one whom he was obliged to persuade that she was his Mistress, act so ccovertly that perfidious part, that his real Mistress, was really jealous that he dissembled with her, and not with the other: And to remove this, put the Gallant to as much new pains as his former cheat had cost him. And I have heard of the like accidents, though in different actions; As of a Rebel, who counterfeited Loyalty so, that his Complices did really distrust his fixedness to these damned Principles which he still retained. And in ordinary conversation ye will often find, that in dissembling with the one party, ye lose still the other; and it is impossible to regain them who are so lost, but by a shameful discovery of the former cheat: and after all that loss, this doubt is still left, How can I know but this man dissembles with me, who is so exquisite in that Art, as even to have made me jealous, that his dissimulation was not counterfeit? 
Virtue requires fewer instruments than vice   
Let us a little consider how few instruments Virtue requires, and we will find it easy to be Virtuous: It requires no Arms, Exchequer, Guards, nor Garrison; It is all these to itself, in every sense wherein it needs them: whereas Vice is a burden to its votaries, as well in the abundance of those attendants which it requires, as in the difficulty of those attainments which it proposes. And this is that happy Topick, from which our wise Saviour reproved Martha, when he told her, that she wearied herself about many things, whereas there was one thing necessary. By which, seeing he commended Devotion, I may well press from it the excellency of Moral Virtue. The ambitious man is obliged to have his House planted with a Wood of Partisans, as well to secure that condition which so many envy and rival, as to magnify himself by so unequalled attendance. This desire to command, made Hannibal force a passage through the Rocky Alps; Cesar to commit himself to the mercy of a stormy Sea, and so many weary Journeys. This obliged Xerxes to entertain vast Navies. And Darius such Armies, as reduced all mankind into one Incorporation. And so much doth Ambition tie its dependers, to depend upon such numbers, that though that Armies of Laquays which attend them, signifies no more than so many following cyphers; yet the substracting of any one of these, doth by so much lessen the value of what they follow. Doth not Pride require Flatterers? and these Flatterers Salaries, and the provision of these Salaries, much pains and anxiety? Doth it not require precedency, a suitable estate and applause? And are not these inattainable, without more toil and fatigue, than any thing that Virtue enjoins? Covetousness requires Assiduous Drudgery, and Mines as bottomless as the desires which craves them: It craves every thing which others have, and every thing which itself can imagine. Luxury seeks only after what is unusual, and what is rare. It must in Apicius, crave food from the Indies, fetched to Rome, in Heliogablus Fishes when far from the Sea, and more for one belly, than might enrich thousands of Nobler Creatures. Lust requires plurality of Women, abundance of strength, numbers of Pimps, and much Money. Whereas Virtue craves only what is fit, and persuades us to believe that only to be fit, which is absolutely necessary▪ Cato's Table is completely furnished with one Dish, and his Body with one Vesture. Huic aepulae vicisse famem. And the Philosopher going by well and rich furnished Shops, could cry out with pleasure, Oh! How many things are there, of which I stand not in need? Not only are these many Instruments troublesome, because they are superfluous, but likewise, because by their number they add to these natural necessities, under which even Virtuous men are weighted, as long as they are men. These who have so numerous Families, cannot remove when their necessity calls them, but they must expect till their retinue be ready, and when these are prepared, it is no easy clog to draw so many after them; or when any misfortune overtakes any of these many, they must suffer in these, as oft as each of these suffers in themselves; and their miseries are augmented by every new Increment that is added to their fortunes. A great Treasure is not only an incitement to make its Master be assaulted, or betrayed, but is likewise uneasy to be transported: And Croesus many Bags are overtaken, when Moneyless Solon escapes with safety. I shall then conclude, that Virtue is easier than Vice, because it requires fewer Instruments.  
cause it cannot find them at home. Covetousness must scorch in the Indies its suitors; it must freeze them in Nova Zembla; it terrifies them at Sea, and Shipwrecks them upon the Shore. Whilst Virtue recommends to us, to seek our happiness in no foreign pleasures: And Diogenes finds without danger in his Tub, what these Sailors pursue in their dangerous Bottoms. But Vice might plead itself less guilty, if its designs were only difficult, but difficulty is not all, for Vice either requires what is impossible, or what by not being bounded, may very easily become so. Covetousness makes nothing enough, and proposes not only what may satisfy, but what may be acquired. Ambition likewise will have every man to be highest, which is impossible, because there cannot be many highests; and the first attainer leaves nothing to his implacable rivals, but the impatience of being disappointed, which not only disquiets their present ease, but begets in them projects of attaquing him by whom they conceive themselves vanquished. And these designs being form, by persons whose judgements is much disordered by interest (which like fired Powder, flees out, not always where it should, but where it may) and against persons already secured, by Power, Fame, Law, and other advantages, they ripen into no other issue, than a last ruin to these, who were so foolish, as not to satisfy their present humour with their present fortune.  
Philosophers have divided all Vices into these, 
Vice in defect and in excess are equally uneasy.  which consist in excess, and these which imply a defect, the one shooting as far over the mark as the other comes short of it; and if we compare Virtue with either of these, we will find it more easy then either, for as to these which overreach Virtue, they must be as much more uneasy than it, as they exceed it; for having all in them which that Virtue possesses which they exceed, they must require either in acquisition or maintenance, all the pains that the exceeded Virtue exacts. Thus prodigality requires all the spending, and pains that liberality needs, and running equally with it all its length; it begins to require more pains and travel where it out-shoots the other, and thus prodigality bestows not only enough as liberality does, but it lavishes out more than is fit, taking for the standard of its bounty, all that it hath to bestow, and not either what itself can spare, or what its object needs: Jealousy pains itself more, then true love, with all those extravagancies, which are so unsufferable to the party loved, and so disquieting to the lover himself, that Physicians have accounted this a disease, and the Law hath made it a crime. As to these Vices, which by being placed in defect, seem to require as much less trouble than the Vice they fall short of, as the others require more, because of their excess; yet so uneasy is Vice, that even these though they exceed not virtue in their measures, do yet exceed it in their toil: For nature designs accomplishment in all its productions, and therefore frets, and is disquieted at these immature effects; and is as much more wounded by these, then by virtuous productions, as the grafts are by being spoiled of their greener fruits, or as a women is by her too early birth. We see a miser more cruciat by his scanting penuriousness, than a noble person by his generous liberality, for these are obliged to keep themselves out of these occasions of spending (a task great enough▪ because all men endeavour, both out of envy, and out of humour and sport, to draw them unto these snares) and when they are within their own circle, they are forced by that restless Vice, to descend to thousand of tricks, which are as wearieing, as unhandsome. I have seen some so careful of their estates, that they brooked better to have their names and souls burdened then these, and to preserve which they were at more trouble than any can have the faith to believe, besides these who had the humour to do so: If to hold or draw with our full force be a trouble, both these are the posturs of covetousness, wherewith it is kept upon constant guard, and in continual employment; and if at any time they remit any thing of that anxiety, they repine at their own negligence, and imagine that they lost as much as they hoped once to have gained. Fear is the defect of courage, but yet it is more uneasy than courage, and really this alone has more uneasienesse, than all the fraterny of Virtues, for Virtue is at worst bussied about, what is; but fear bogls at what is not, 
Vices oppose one another, whereas each Virtue assists its fellow.  equally with what is.  
Vice likewise is therefore less easy than Virtue, because it proposes only an aim, which is fixed and stable, whilst vice and fancy leavs us to an indetermination, that is uneasy as well as dangerous, when it hath pressed us, to make Armies fall as sacrificed to the idol of our Ambition, and for humouring of that passion, to bring Cities as well as Men levelly with the ground: Then it will in the next thought persuade us, even to laugh at our Ambition, and to exchange it for love to a Mistress or Companionrie as it once served the otherwise Great Alexander. 
The practice of one Virtue facilitats other Virtues   
As Virtue makes good neighbours, so all the Virtues are ●o far such amongst themselves, that not only they interfeer not with one another, but the exercise likewise of the one, facilitats the practice of the others; thus whilst we practise temperance, we learn to be just, because temperance is the just measure of enjoying, and using all contingents; and we learn by it to be patient, patience being a temperance in grief, sorrow or affliction: Patience is likewise the exercise of fortitude, and fortitude is a just proportion of courage, and a temperate exercise of boldness. And this occasioned the Philosophers to term this noble alliance, the golden chain of Virtue, each being linked with, and depending upon its fellow. But if we turn the prospect, we will find that though dissension be a special Vice so charactered, yet all Vices, have somewhat of that ill natured humour in them; and agree in nothing, besides that each of them disagree with each other, which makes the practice of them both tedious and disagreeable, for all of them consisting, the one in excess, the other in defect; they cannot but disagree, excess and defect being in themselves most contrary: thus prodigality opposes avarice, cowardlieness courage, and fondness hatred; and as virtuous persons have a kindness for one another, because the object of their love requires, as well as admits rivals, so Vice endeavouring to engross what it pursues, makes rivals altogether unsupportable. Ambition pouses on each of its dependers to be chief, and yet allows only one of these many to enjoy, what it makes all of them desire. Thus avaric's task is to impropriat the possession of what was created, and is necessary to be distribute amongst many thousands: And envy will not only have its Master to be full of applause, but will likewise starve the desires, and merits of others, judging that itself cannot be happy if others be. Vice then must be less easy than Virtue, because it hath more enemies than Virtue; and because the Virtues are more harmonious amongst themselves, than Vices are.  
Vices not only make enemies to themselves, 
Providence resists vice  but by a Civil War (as a just judgement upon them) they destroy one another, providence intending thereby, to hinder the growth of what, though it prosper not well, yet is already too noxious to mankind; and upon the same principle of kindness to what bears his image, GOD Almighty, and His Providence, do design the unsuccesfulness of Vice, as being obstructive of his glory, as well as destructive to his creatures, being equally thereto engaged, by a love to his own honour and service, and by a hatred as well to these who commit Vice, as to the Vice which is committed. Thus GOD confounded those Tongues who had spoke so much blasphemy against him, whilst they were endeavouring to raise a Tower as high as their sins. And when David intended to spill Nabals' blood, GOD is said to have stopped him from being an unjust Executioner, whom he intended to make a most just Judge. And since Balaams' Ass opened its mouth to speak this truth, they must be more stupid than Asses, who will not believe it.  
The Law likewise by its punishments, 
The Law makes Vice uneasy.  contributes all its endeavours to crush Vice, and to arrest its success, forbidding by its Edicts, any person to assist it, and making not only assistance, but counsel; not only counsel, but connivance; not only connivance, but concealment of it, to be in most cases so criminal, that all the honours which Vice promiseth, or the treasures it gives, cannot be able to redeem those who are found to have slighted this prohibition. Must it not then be difficult to be vicious? where Assistants and Counselors are so overawed, and the intenders so terrified, that few will engage as instruments? and these who do, are so disordered by fear, that vicious projecctors are as little to expect success, as virtuous persons are to wish it for them. And to evidence how much opposition the Law intends for Vice, it not only punishes Vice with what it presently inflicts, but it presumes it still guilty for the future, semel malus, semper praesumitur malus; and upon that prsumption many vicious persons have suffered for that whereof they were otherways innocent. Though Rebellion hath promising charms, to allure the Idolaters of Ambition and Fame, yet the Law doth so far stand against it, that few will concur with the contrivers, except such fools as have not the wit to promote it, or some desperate persons, with whom few will join, because they are known to be discontent, & though revenge relishes blood with a pleasing smack; yet the severity of excellent Laws cools much of that inhuman heat, and lessens the pleasure, by sharpening the punishment. Vice then must be uneasy, seeing the Law opposes it, and renders its Commission dangerous, 
Men are in interest obliged to oppose Vice and so it is uneasy  as well as odious.  
Men likewise join with GOD and the Law in a Confederacy against Vice, and though they too oft approve it in the warmness and disorder of their passions; yet in their professions and conventions they laugh at it, and inveigh against it; and though the pressure of a present temptation, overcomes them so far as to commit what they dissallow, yet they do it but infrequently and with so many checks from within, as that its commission cannot be thought easy: Consider, how amongst men, we hate even these Vices in others, which we are guilty of ourselves, and how we even hate these Vices in others, by which we ourselves reap no small advantage. Alexander gloried to destroy that base person, who had murdered his greatest enemy Darius; and David is commended, for having caused kill him, who but said, that he had killed Saul; who will employ one who is perfidious? and so uneasy is Vice, that much pains and discourse will not persuade us to believe one who uses to lie, whilst we will soon believe what is really a lie from one who uses not to abuse our trust; few Judges are so pointedly just, as not to think that they may favour a Virtuous person; good men do likewise reward such as own an interest so allowable, and wicked men own such as are virtuous out of design, thereby to expiate their former Vice, and to persuade the world, that they are not really vicious, though they be esteemed so: so that seeing reward as well as inclination, and just men as well as injust advance Virtue, and oppose Vice, Vice cannot be but be more uneasy than Virtue, which is all is to be proven.  
I am from reflecting upon the progress and growth of Vice, 
Vice mak● us fear all men.  convinced very much of its uneasieness; If we look upon Rebellion, Revenge or Adulteries, we will find them hatched in Corners as remote from commerce as those Vices are themselves from Virtue, and as black as the guilt of their contrivers, and almost as terrifying as the worst of prisons are to such who are but in any measure virtuous; none of the contrivers dares trust his Colleague, and which is yet worse, none of them hath courage enough to reflect upon what he is to do; he most be too ill to be successful who is so desperately wicked, as not to tremble at the wickedness he projects, and these blush which adorn the face, when they are the motions of modesty, become stains and blemishes, when they are sent there by fear, or a troubled conscience; and it is very pretty to observe with how much art and pains, such as are guilty of Vice, endeavour to shun all discourses, that can renew to them the least reflection upon their former failings, and how they most often times disoblige their own envy and malice, in not daring to vent or reproach others with that guilt, which might be easily retorted; and thus vicious men have as many masters, as their vices have witnesses: and though they are bold enough to commit vice, yet they often times want the courage to own it; and servants, if conscious to these crimes, become thereby necessary to their masters, nor do wicked and vicious persons fear only such as do, but (which is more extensive) such as may know their Vices, and tremble at 'tis memory, as if the Sun or Moon would divulge their secrets, and by accident they have oft confessed crimes upon mistakes, and have made apologies for that whereof they were not accused, which hath made the Confessors to be laughed at for their error, as well as hated for their crimes.  
Another Argument to enforce that Virtue is more easy than Vice, 
It is more natural to be virtuous then vicious  is, that seeing nature is the spring of all operations, certainly that must be most easy, which is most natural; and when we would express any thing to be easy to a person or nation, we say, it is natural to them, and miracles are uneasy and difficult, because they run the counter-tract of nature, being either above, against or beside its assistance: But so it is that Virtue is a more natural operation than Vice, both because it less infests nature then Vice does, and because nature discovers more of a bent to act virtuously then viciously, which are the only two senses in which any thing is said to be natural.  
That virtue of these two prejudges nature least, is clear from this, that sobriety cherisheth it, when it is run down by intemperance, murder kills it, gluttony chokes it, and jealousy keeps it not alive but to torment it; and generally when ever Nature is distressed, it flies to Virtue, either for Protection, as to Courage, Justice and Clemency, or for recovery, as to Temperance, Industry and Chastity: Few grey hairs owe their whiteness, except to that innocence whose Livery it is, Rapine, oppression, and these other Vices, hightening their insolence against man, to that point, that he must serve them in being his own Burrior, to be commended for nothing else, save that they rid the World of such who came only to it, to deface that glorious Fabric, whereof the Almighty resented so the pleasure of having created it, that he appointed a day of each seven to celebrat its Festivals. Are not some sins said to be sins against our own bodies? Not because all are not so in some measure, but because some are so in so eminent a measure, that the Apostle, who knew much of all men's inclinations, thought that there being so much such, was enough to restrain such persons from committing them, as were yet so wicked, as not to obey a Saviour who died for them. And why is it that Laws are so severe against Vice? but because it destroys and corrupts the Members of the Commonwealth? I have oft, notwithstanding of the Precepts of Stoicism, which forbids me to be so effeminate, as to pity any thing, and notwithstanding of the principles of Justice, which forbids me to pity persons who are flagitious, yet been driven to that excess of compassion for the state of vicious persons, that I have no more remembered even the wrongs that they have done me, to see the Pox wear out a face which had been so oft Fairded, and the Gout felter feet, that as the Psalmist says, were swift to do ill, are but too ordinary encounters to excite compassion: But to see the Wheel fattened with the marrow of tortured miscreants, and the Rack pull to pieces these Receptacles of Vice, are great instances how great an enemy Vice is to Nature; under whose ill conduct, and for whose errors it suffers torments, which are much sooner felt then expressed.  
Since than Nature is so opposed by Vice, it cannot be itself so unwise in the meanest of these many degrees which we ascribe to many creatures whom it makes wise, if it disposed not mankind to entertain an aversion for Vice, which is so much its enemy. Shall the Sheep, the silliest of all Animals, or the earth, the dullest of all the elements, flee from its oppressors? And shall Nature, which should be wiser than these, because it bestows these inclinations upon them, which makes them pass for wise, be so imprudent, as not to mould men so, as to incline them to hate Vice, which so much hurts it? Is there any Vice committed, to which we may not find another impulsive cause then Nature? And are not most Vices either committed by custom, by being mistaken for good, by interest, or inadvertence, as shall be showed in the close of this Discourse? And seeing Nature designs to do nothing in vain, it is not imaginable that it should prompt us to Vice, wherein nothing but vanity can be expected, or from which nothing else can be reaped. These who are so injurious to Nature (because it appears Nature hath been less liberal to them, of understanding, then to others) as to fasten this reproach upon it, of inclining men to Vice, do contradict themselves, when they say that Nature is satisfied with little, and desires nothing that is superfluous; whereas all these Vices which consist in excess, do stretch themselves to superfluity; whilst upon the other side, these Vices which consist in defect, are yet as unnatural, because in these the committers deny themselves what is necessary for them, and so are most unnatural: Nature desiring to see every thing accomplished in its just proportions, and satisfied in its just desires.  
All Vices have their own peculiar diseases, 
Each Vice brings a special disease.  to which they inevitably lead; Envy brings men to a leanness, as if it were fed with its Master's flesh, as well as with its enemies failings; Lust the Pox and Consumptions; Drunkenness Catarrhs and Gouts, and Rage, Fevers and Frenzies; which is a demonstration of their uneasiness, and incommodiousness: And I might almost say, that those Vices are like Frogs, Lice, and other despicable and terrible infects, generated and kneaded out of excrementious humours; Lust is occasioned by the superfluity and heat of the Blood; Drunkenness by a dryness of the Vessels; and Rage by the corruption and exuberancy of Choler. Consider how much the grimaces of anger disfigures the sweetest face, how much rage discomposes our discourse, and by these and its other postures, ye will find Vice an enemy to Nature: So that in all these, Nature labours under some distemper, and is distressed in its operations, and acts them not out of choice, but as sick men rise to hunt for what their Physicians deny them. And from all this it follows, that vice is neither natural in its productions, nor in its tendencies, not being designed by Nature in the one, nor designing to preserve Nature in the other.  
I confess there is a rank of Virtues, which are supernatural, such as Faith, Hope and Repentance, but either there could be no contradistinction of these from such as I treat of, else these of which I hear speak, must be natural; To deny ourselves, if we will follow Christ; and that flesh and blood did not teach Peter, to emit that noble confession of Christ's being the Son of the Eternal GOD, proves that some spiritual truths, are above the reach of reason, yet with relation to those other moral Virtues, that same inspired Volume assures us, that the Gentiles, who have no Law, 
Rom. 2. 14.  do by nature the things contained in the Law, these not having the Law, are a Law unto themselves, which show the work of the Law written in their hearts, the Conscience also bearing witness, and their Thoughts in the mean time accusing, or else excusing one another; and elsewhere the wicked are said to be without natural affection, 
Rom. 1. 31.  are not all sins even in the dialect of Philosophers and Lawgivers, as well as in the Language of Canaan termed unnatural? What is Parricide, Ingratitude, Oppression, Lying &c. but the subversion of these Laws, whereof our own hearts are the Tables? Doth not Nature, by giving us Tongues to express our thoughts, teach us, that to disguise our thoughts, or to contradict them, is to be unnatural: And seeing the not acknowledgement of favours, obstructs the future relief of our necessities, it must be as unnatural to be ungrate, as it is natural to provide supplies for our craving wants.  
I will not fully exhaust the miseries that wait upon Vice, 
The horror of Conscience makes Vice uneasy.  by telling you, that no man who is really vicious, sinneth without reluctancy in the commission; But I must likewise tell you, that though all the preceding disadvantages were salved, yet the natural horror which results from the commission of Vice, is great enough to render it a miracle, that any man should be vicious, our Conscience can condemn us without Witnesses, though we bribe off all Witnesses from without, or though by Sophistry and Art, we render their Depositions insuccessful: And though Remissions can secure us against all external punishments, yet the Arm of that Executioner cannot be stopped; and if ye consider how men become thereby inconsolable, by the attendance of friends, and the advantage of all exterior pleasures, ye cannot but conclude that Vice is to be pitied, as well as shunned, and that this alone makes it more uneasy than Virtue, whereby the greatest of misfortunes are sweetened, and outward torments, by having their Prospect turned upon future praise and rewards, rendered pleasures to such as suffer them; and are looked upon as ornaments, by such as see them inflicted, and draw praises from succeeding ages. 
— Hic murus ahaeneus esto.  
Nil conscire sibi, nulla palesscere culpa.  was the determination of a Pagan, who could derive no happiness from these Divine Promises upon which we are obliged to rely for rewards; which though they be too great to be understood by the Sons of Men, yet are not so great, but that they may be expected by us, when we shall be adopted to be the Sons of that GOD, whose power to bestow, can be equalled by nothing, but by his desire to gratify. After success hath crowned vicious designs, yet Vice meets with this uneasiness of remorse, wherein the souls of men are made to forget the pleasure of success, and are punished for having been successful: And these will either not remember their success, in which case they want all pleasure, or if they think upon them, that thought will lead them back to consider the guilt and baseness to which they owe it, which will vex and fret them. Virtue afflicts at most but the body, and in these pains, Philosophy consoles us, but Vice afflicts our Souls; and the Soul being more sensible than the body (seeing the body owes its sensibleness to it.) Certainly the torments of Vice must be greatest, and this seems the reason why our Saviour, in describing the torments of Hell, placeth the worm which never dies, before the fire that never goeth out; And that the rebukes of a natural Conscience, are of all torments the most insupportable, appears from this, that albeit death be the most formidable of all torments (men suffering Tortures, Physic, Contumelies, Poverty, and the sharpest of afflictions, to shun its encounter) yet men in exchange of these, will not only welcome Death, but will assume it to themselves, adding the guilt and infamy of self-murder, the confiscation of an Estate, and the infamous want of Burial, to the horrors of an ordinary death; and all this to shift the present gnawings of a Conscience. The horrors likewise of a guilty Conscience doth in this appear most disquieting, that those who have their Conscience so burdened, do acknowledge, that after confession, they find themselves as much eased, as a sick Stomach is relieved by vomiting up these humours, whose disquietness makes such as suffered them, rather sick persons, than Patients: Whereas what ever be the present troubles which ariseth from virtue, yet if they continue not, they are tolerable; and if they continue, custom, and the assistance of Philosophy will lessen their weight, and at best, the pain is to be but temporary, because the cause from which they descend is but momentany: If they be not sharp and violent, they are sufferable; and if they be violent, they cannot last, or at least the Patient cannot last long to endure them. Whereas these reflections that disquiet us in Vice, arising from the soul itself, cannot perish whilst that hath any being. And so the vicious soul must measure its grief by the length of Eternity, though Vice did let out its joys but by the length of a moment, and did not fill even the narrow dimensions of that moment, with sincere joy; the knowledge that these were to be short lived, and the fear of succeeding torment, possessing much of that little room.  
The first objection whose difficulty deserves an answer, 
Virtue si more pleasant then Vice.  is that Virtue obliges us to oppose pleasures, and to accustom ourselves with such rigours, seriousness and patience, as cannot but render its practice uneasy; and if the Readers own ingenuity supply not what may be rejoined to this, it will require a discourse, that shall have no other design besides its satisfaction, and really to show by what means every man may make himself easily happy, and how to soften the appearing rigours of Philosophy, is a design which if I thought it not worthy of a sweeter pen, should be assisted by mine, and for which I have in my current experience gathered together some loose reflections and observations, of whose cogency I have this assurance; that they have often moderated the weildest of my own straying inclinations, and so might pretend to a more prevailing ascendent over such▪ whose reason and temperament makes them much more reclaimable: But at present my answer is, that Philosophy enjoins not the crossing of our own inclinations, but in order to their accomplishment; and it proposes pleasure as its end, as well as Vice, though for its more fixed establishment, it sometimes commands what seems rude to such as are strangers to its intentions in them. Thus temperance resolus to heighten the pleasures of enjoyment, by defending us against all the insults of excess and oppressive loathing; and when it lessens our pleasures, it intends not to abridge them, but to make them fit and convenient for us, even as Soldiers, who though they propose not wounds and starvings, yet if without these they cannot reach those Laurels, to which they climb, they will not so far disparage their own hopes, as to think they should fix them upon any thing whose acquist deserve not the suffering of these. Physic cannot be called a cruel employment, because to preserve what is sound, it will cut off what is tainted; and these vicious persons, whose laziness forms this doubt, do answer it when they endure the sickness of Drunkenness, the toiling of Avarice, the attendance of rising Vanity, and the watchings of Anxiety; and all this to satisfy inclinations, whose shortness allows little pleasure, and whose prospect excluds all future hopes. Such as disquiet themselves by Anxiety (which is a frequently repeated self murder) are more tortoured, than they could be by the want of what they pant after; that longed for possession of a Neighbour's estate, or of a public employment, makes deeper impressions of grief by their absence, than their enjoyment can repair; and a Philosopher will sooner convince himself of their not being the necessary integrants of our happiness, than the miser will by all his assiduousnesse gain them.  
There are but three instances of time, and in each of these, vicious persons are much troubled; the prospect of usual insuccessefulness, difficulties or inconveniences do torment before the commission; horror, trembling and reluctancy do terrify in the act, and conscience succeeds to these after commission, as the last, but not the least of these unruly torments. And as to the pleasures of Vice, it can have none in any of these parcels of time, beside the present, which present, is by many Philosophers scarce allowed the name of time; and is at best so swift, that its pleasures most be too transient to be possessed. I confess that revenge is the most inticeing of all Vices, and so much so, that a wicked Italian said, that GOD Almighty had reserved it to himself, because it was too noble and satisfying a Prerogative to be bestowed upon mortals; yet it discharges at once its pleasure with its fury, and like a bee languishes after it hath spent its sting, and when it is once acted, which is oft in one moment, it ceaseth from that moment to be a pleasure and such as were tickled once with it, are afraid of its remembrance, and think worse of it, than they did formerly of the affront, to expiate which, it was undertaken; Thirty Pieces of Silver might have had some lechery in them at judas first touch, but they behoved to have a very unresembling effect, when he took no longer pleasure in them, then to have come the next week to offer them back: and because they were refused, to rid himself of his life and them together.  
The pains of Vice may be conluded greater than these of Virtue, from this, that virtuous persons are in their sufferings assisted by all the world, vicious persons doing so to expiate their own crimes, and virtuous persons doing the same, to reward the Virtue they adore: and if these endeavours prove insuccessful, every man by bearing a share in their grief, do all they can to lessen it; but vicious persons have their sufferings augmented by the disdain, and just opprobries thrown upon them by such as were witnesses to their Vices; and such as had any inclination for them, dare not appear to be their wellwishers, lest they be repute Complices of their crimes.  
I need not fear so much weakness in this my Theme, as to bring up a thousand of these instances to its aid, that lie every where obvious to the least curious observation. What is more laborious than Pride? wherein by robbing from others what is due to them, the acquirers are still obliged to defend their new Conquests with more vigilance, than Virtue needs? The proud man must be greater than all others, and so must toil more than they all, his task being greater than all theirs jointly. And the jealous man must never be satisfied, till he know not only what is truth, but what he fears to be so, being most unhappy in this, that if he get assurance of what he suspects, than he is made really miserable; or if he attain not to that assurance, he must still toil for it, and must make himself miserable by his pains, till he become really so, by being informed of what at one instant he wishes to be false, and endeavours to make true. Revenge is most painful, both in persuading us that these are affronts, which of their own nature are no affronts, and then in bringing on us much more hazard than their satisfaction can repay: For one word spoke to us, which (it may be) the speaker intended as no injury, how many have by murdering the speaker, or some such rash attempt, deprived themselves of the privilege of seeing their friends without horror, or of coming abroad without imminent danger, skulking in dens like thiefs, imprisoned for fear of prison, and dying daily to shun the death they fear. Whereas Socrates, by laughing at him who spat in his face, had then the pleasure to see himself at present satisfied, and did foresee the hopes of future praises. Guiltiness must search out corners, it must at all rates secure favourites, it must shun to meet with such as are conscious to its guilt, and when ever two men speak privately in presence of such as are vicious, they persuade themselves that somewhat is there spoke to their disadvantage; and like one who labours of a sore, they must still be careful that their wound be not touched.  
To conclude then this Period, consider, that every thing that is uneasy must be unpleasant, and that Vice is more uneasy than Virtue, appears from the whole foregoing Discourse.  
I hope the preceding Discourse hath cleared off all these doubts that can oppose this (though new) yet well founded truth, 
Why most men are vicious.  leaving only this objection here to be answered. If Vice be less easy, and less natural than Virtue; why do the greater part of mankind range themselves to its side? leaving Virtue as few followers, as it professes to desire admirers? In answer whereto, I confess that this objection proves men to be mad, but not Vice to be easy; even as when we see men throw away their clothes, run the fields over, and expose themselves to storms, leaving their convenient homes, and kind family: we conclude such as do so to be mad, but are not induced to believe that what they do is easy. And certainly Vice is a madness, as may appear convincingly from this, that when we see others run to these excesses (which we thought Gallantry in ourselves, when we were acting the like) we ask them seriously, What, are ye mad? And Hazael, 
2 Kings 8. 13  when the cruelty he was to (and did) commit, was foretold him by the Prophet, did with admiration ask, What? am I a Dog, that I should do these things! And the Prodigal, when he freed himself from these vicious roaving, 
Luke 15 17  is said to have come to himself; by which word Madness is usually expressed: Men are said to be mad, when they offer violence to their Body; and it is a more advanced degree of madness, to offer violence to our Souls, which we then do (besides the ruining of our Bodies) when we are Vicious. And to such as prefer their Bodies to their Souls, I recommend the Survey of such Bodies, as have wasted themselves in Stews and Taverns, or have left Limbs upon the Field where they last quarrelled after Cups, for Vanity, or Mistresses. The second answer is, that men mistake ofttimes Vice for Virtue, and are enticed to it by an error in their Judgements, rather than any depravedness in their Affections. Thus Drunkenness recommends itself to us, under the notion of kindness; and Prodigality, under that of Liberality: Complacency likewise is the great Pimp of much Viciousness to well disposed persons, and many are by it enticed to err, to gratify a mistake in their friendship, for they are persuaded that friendship and kindness are so innocent and sweet qualities, that it cannot command what is not as just as itself.  
Custom also, as it is a second nature, so it is a Stepmother to Virtue, and whilst we endeavour to shun the Vice of being vain, and singular, we slip into these Vices which are too familiar to be formidable, and which we would not have committed if the mode and fashion had not determined us thereto against our first and pure inclinations; thus the Germans believe Drinking to be kindness, and the Italian is by the custom of his Country induced not to tremble at, but to love Sodomy. We have interest likewise to blame, for much of that wickedness, which we falsely charge upon nature: For this brib's us to oppose what naturally we would follow, but above all want of consideration, is the frequent occasion of many of these disorders, so that Virtue is not postponed by choice, but by negligence; neither would it be more difficult for us to be virtuous in many of our actions, than it would be for us to consider what we are about to do. And I may seal up this Period with the blunt complaint made by a poor woman, who after her affection and interest had forced from her many passionate regrates against her son's debordings, concluded thus, alace! my son will never recover, for he cannot think: therefore I must conclude, that seeing it is easy to think, it must be likewise easy to be virtuous.  
It is indeed hard for one who is drunk to stand upright, or for one who hath his eyes covered with mire to see clearly; and yet, standing upright, or seeing clearly, are not in themselves difficult tasks: Just so Virtue is easy in itself, though our pre-ingagement to the contrary habit, rather than to the Vice itself, renders its operations somewhat uneasy; whereas, if we had once imbued our Souls with a habit of Virtue, it's exercise would be far easier to us, then that of it's contrary; for it would be assisted by reason, nature, reward and applause, all which oppose the other. He who becomes temperate, finds his temperance much less troublesome, than the most habitual drunkard can his excess; who can never render it so familiar, but that he will be constrained to make faces when he quaffs off a tedious health, and will at some times find either his quarrels, the betraying his friends secret, or his crudities to importune him. No liar hath so much accustomed himself to that trade, but he will discover himself sometimes in his blushes, and will be oft distressed, to shape out covers for his falseness; whereas he who is free from the bondage of that habit, will always find it so easy, that he will never hear a lie, without admiring with what confidence it could have been forged.  
Whereas to know the easiness of Virtue, we need only this reflection, that every vicious person thinks it easy to conquer the Vice he sees in another: He who whoors admires the uneasiness and unpleasantness of drinking; and the Drunkard laughs at the fruitless toil of ambition, which shows that Vice is an easy conquest, seeing the meanest persons can subdue it.  
Though truth and newness do of all other motius court us soon to complacency, and that my present Theme can without vanity pretend to both; yet so studious am I of success, where I have a tenderness for the Subject for which I contend, that for further conviction of its enemies, I must recommend to them to go to the Courts of Monarches, and there learn the uneasiness and unpleasantness of Vice, from its splitting those in Oppositions and Factions, which afford the reasonable onlookers as disagreeable a prospect, 
These proves the uneasiness also of private quarrels and ill humours,  as that of a shipwrecked Vessel. And when Faction has once dismembered a Society, is it not strange to see what pains and anxiety must be showed by both opposites, to discover and ruin each others projects? Other men toil only to make themselves happy, but those must labour likewise to keep their opposites from being so; they must seek applause for themselves, and must stop it from their enemies; they must shun all places where these are entertained, and all occasions which may bring them to meet though inclination or curiosity do extremely bend them to go thither: they must oppose the friends of their enemies, though they be desirous and obliged upon many other scores to do them good Offices: they grow pale at their appearances, and are disordered at what praise is given those, though bestowed upon them for promoving that public good wherein the contemners share for much of their own safety: and it is most ordinar to hear such factious Zealots swear, that they would choice rather to be destroyed by a public Enemy, then preserved by a Rival. From all which it is but too clear, that all vicious persons are slaves; which as it is the uneasiest of states, so to shun a loss of liberty, most men refuse to be virtuous. If we go to Physicians we will find their shambles hung round with the Trophies of Vice: For Temperance, Chastity or the other Virtues send few thither, but wantonness repays there its one moments pleasure with a years cure, and makes them afraid to see that disfigured face, for whose representation they once doted upon their flattering mirrors. There lie such prisoners as the drunken Gout hath fettered, and there lie louring such as Gluttony hath oppressed. Let us go to Prisons and Scaffolds, and there we will see such furnished out with the envoyes of injustice, malice, revenge and murders. Let us go to Divines, and they will tell us of the horrid exclamations of such, as have upon deathbed seen mustered before them, those sins, which how soon they had their vizards of sensuality and lust pulled off, did appear in figures monstruous enough to terrify a Soul which took leisure to consider them.  Juvenal High sunt qui trepidant, & ad omnia fulgura pallent. 
And though the consciences of Soldiers have ofttimes their ears so deafened with warlike sounds or welcome applauses, that they cannot hear; and their eyes so covered with their enemy's gore, that they cannot see these terrifying shapes of inward revenge: yet, if we believe Lucan, neither could the wrongs done to Caesar so far legimate his fury, nor the present joy or future danger so far divert him from reflecting upon his bypast actions: Nor could the want of Christianity (which enlivens extremely these terrors beyond the Creed of a Roman, who believed, that gallantry was devotion) so far favour his cruelty, but that he and his soldiers were the night of Pharsalia's battle thus disturbed; Lucan, Book 7.  
But furious dreams disturb their restless rest;  
Pharsalia's fight remains in every breast;  
Their horrid guilt still wakes: the battle stands  
In all their thoughts; they brandish empty hands,  
Without their swords: you would have thought the field  
Had groaned, and that the guilty earth did yield  
Exhaled spirits, that in the air did move,  
And Stygian fears possessed the night above.  
A sad revenge on them their conquest takes,  
Their sleeps present the furies hissing snakes,  
And brands; their countrymen's sad ghosts appear:  
To each the image of his proper fear▪  
One sees an old man's visage, one a young,  
Another's tortured all the evening long.  
With his slain brother's spirit; their father's sight  
Daunts some: but Caesar's soul all ghosts affright.  
But that I may rest your thoughts from the noise and horror of these objects, 
The Character of a Philosopher and his ease.  let me lead them into a Philosopher's Cell or House (for Virtue is not like Vice, confined to places) and there ye will see measures taken by no less noble or less erring Pattern, than Nature. His Furniture is not the offspring of the last fashion, and so he must not be at the toil, to keep Spies for informing him, when the succeeding mode must cause these be pulled down, and needs not be troubled, to fill the room yearly of that contemned stuff he but lately admired. He is not troubled that another's Candlesticks are of a later mould, nor vexed, that he cannot muster so many Cabinets or Knacks as he does. He spends no such idle time as is requisite for making great entertainments, wherein Nature is oppressed to please fancy, and must be by the next days Physic tortured to cure its errors: His Soul lodges cleanly, neither clouded with the vapours, nor cloyed with the crudities of his Table; he applies every thing to its natural use, and so uses meat and drink not to express kindness (friendship doing that office much better) but to refresh, and not to occasion his weakness. His dreams are neither disturbed by the horrid representation of his last days crims, nor by the too deep impressions of the next days designs, but is calm as the Breast it refreshes, and pleasant as the rest it brings; his eyes suffer no such eclipse in these, as the eyes of vicious men do, when they are darkened with Drunkenness or excessive sorrow, for all his darknesses succeed as seasonably to his recreations, as the day is followed in by the night In his clothes, he uses not such as requires two or three hours to their laborious dressing▪ or which over-awe the wearer so, that he must shun to go abroad to all places, or at all occasions, lest he offend their lustre; but he provides himself with such as are most easy for use, and fears not to slain these, if he keep his Soul unspotted: He considers his Body and Organs, as the casement and servants of that reasonable Soul he so much loves; and therefore he eases them, not upon design to please them, but to refresh them, that the soul may be thereby better served; and if at any time, he deny these their satisfaction, he designs not thereby to tortoure them, for Gratitude obliges him to repay better their services (and a man should not be cruel even to his beast) but he does so, lest they exceed these measours, whose extent Virtue knows better to mark out then they; or else he finds that during the time he ministers to these appetites, he may be more advantageously employed, in enjoying the pure and spiritual pleasures of Philosophy. But leaving this utter Court, let us step into a Philosopher's breast (a Region as serene as the Heaven whence it came) and there view, how sweet Virtue inspires gentle thoughts, whose storms raise not wrinkles like billows in our face, and blow not away our disobliged friends. Here no mutinous passion rebels with success, and these petty insurrections of flesh and blood, serve only to magnify the strength of reason in their defeat. Here, all his desires are so satisfied with Virtue as their reward, that they need, nor do not run abroad, begging pleasures from every unkown object: And therefore it is that not placing his happiness upon what is subject to the Empire of fate, capricious Fortune cannot make him miserable, for it can resume nothing▪ but what it hath given, and therefore, seeing it hath not bestowed Virtue and Tranquillity, it cannot call it away; and whilst that remains all other losses are inconsiderable, and as no man is grieved to see what is not his own destroyed, so the Virtuous Philosopher, having always considered, what is without him as belonging to Fortune, and not to him, he sees those burnt or robbed with a disinterested indifference: and when all others are alarumed with the fears of ensuing Wars and Invasions, he stands as fixed (though not as hard) as a Rock, and suffers all the foaming waves of fate and malice to spend their spit and froth at his feet: Virtue and the Remembrance of what he hath done, and the hopes that he will still act virtuously, are all his treasures, and these are not capable of being pillaged; these are his inseparable companions, and therefore he can never want a divertising conversation: And seeing he is a Citizen of the world, all places are his Country, and he is always at home, and so can never be banished; and seeing he can still exercise his reason equally in all places, he is never (like vicious persons) vexed that he must stay in one place, and cannot reach another; like a sick man, whose disease makes him always tumble through all the corners of his bed. He is never surprised, because he forecasts always the worst; and as this arms him against discontents, So if a milder event disappoint his apprehensions, this heightens his pleasure. He lives without all design, except that one of obeying his reason; and therefore it is that he can never be miserable, seeing such are only so, who are crossed in their designs; and thence it is, that when he hears that his actions displease the world, he is not troubled, seeing he designed not to please them and if he see others carry wealthy pretences to which he had a title, he is little troubled, seeing he designed not to be rich. The frowns or favours of C●andees alter him not, seeing he neither fears the one, nor expects promotion from the other. He desires little, and so is easily happy, seeing these are without controversy happy who enjoy all they desire; and that man puts himself in great debt, who widens his expectations by his desires: Thus, he who designs to buy a neighbouring Field, must straiten himself to lay up what will reach its price, as much as if he were debtor in the like sum; and desire leaves still an emptiness which must be filled. He finds not his breast invaded (like such as are vicious) by contrary passions, envy sometimes persuading, that others are more deserving, and vanity assuring that none deserves so much. His passions do not interest him with extreme concern in any thing; and seeing he loves nothing too well, he grieves at the loss of nothing too much; joy and grief being like the contrary motions of a swing, or pendula, which must move as far (exactly) to the one side, as it run formerly to the other. He looks upon all mankind as sprung from one common stock with himself, and therefore is as glad to hear of other men's happiness, as others are to hear of their kindred and relations promotion. If he be advanced to be a Statesman, whilst he continues so, he designs more to discharge well his present trust, then to court a higher, which double task burdens such as are vicious; and having no private design, if the public which he serves find out one fitter for the employment, he is well satisfied, for his design of serving the public is thereby more promoved. And if he be preferred to be a Judge, he looks only to the Law as his Square, and is not distracted betwixt the desires to be just, to please his friends, to gratify his dependers, and to advance his private gain. The Philosopher is not raised by his greatness above, nor depressed by his misfortunes below his natural level: For, when he is in his grandeur, he considers that men come to him but as they go to fountains, not to admire its streams (though clear as crystal) but to fill their own pitchers; and therefore, he is neither at much pains to preserve that state, nor to heighten men's esteem of it; but considers his own power as he does a River, whose streams are always passing, and are then only pleasant when they glide calmly within their Banks. Injuries do not reach him, for his Virtue places him upon a height above their shot, and what calumnies or offences are intended for him, do but like the vapours and fogs, that rise from the earth, not reach the Heaven; but fall back in Storms and Thunder upon the place, from which they were sent: Injuries may strick his buckler, but cannot wound himself, who is sensible of no wounds, but of those his Vices gives him: And if a Tyrant kill his body, he knows his immaterial Soul cannot be stabbed, but is sure it will flee as high as the Spheres (nothing but that clog of Earth hindering it to move upward to that its Centre) and that from thence, he will great Pompey (in Lucan) smile down when he shall see with illuminat eyes his own Trunk to be so inconsiderable a piece of neglected Earth. And to conclude, the Philosopher does in all his actions go the straightest way, which is because of that the shortest, and therefore the easiest.  
When I have constellat all these touring Eulogies, which Gratitude heaps upon its benifactors, which foolish Youths throw away upon their Mistresses, and which Flatterers buzz into the depraved ears of their Patrons, when I have impoverished invention and emptied eloquence of their most floury ornaments. When I shall have decocted the pains of a whole writing age, into one Panegirick, to bestow a Compliment upon Virtue, for the ease it gives us, and the sweets of its Tranquillity; I shall have spent my time better, then in serving the most wealthy or recreating Vice; and yet I shall oblige Virtue by it less, then by acting the least part of what is reasonable, or gaining the soon reclaimable of such as are vicious. And therefore I shall leave off to write, that I may begin to act vetuously; though one of my Employment may find a defence for writing moral Philosophy, in the examples of Cicero, Du Vair that famous French Precedent, the Lord Verulam, and thousands of others.  
I have (to deal ingenuously) writ these two Essays, to serve my Country, rather than my Fame or Humour, and if they prove successful, Heaven has nothing below itself, wherewith it can more bless my wishes: but if these succeed not, I know nothing else wherewith I would flatter my hopes; and so whatever be the event of this undertaking, (as my resolutions stand now formed) Adieu for ever to writing.  
FINIS.